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s-4pphics · 5 months

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click! 2 (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: you need a roommate, and you love eggplant. [college au]

WORD COUNT: 5.7k

WARNINGS: photographer/roommate!ellie, ocs an artist with a rep, all ocs r black coded, crack, alcohol, arguments, more slut-shaming, bullying, disordered eating, brief mentions of sexual harassment/assault, sex for like a second, failed orgasms, masturbation, slight exhibitionism

one. three. four.

A/N: heyyyyy…. how yall doin🤭🤭 a little something before i go back to work kms

“So, lemme get this straight,” Abby pinches a lollipop stick between her fingers like it’s a blunt, adjusting the invisible glasses on her face, “The psycho just barged in?”

“With all of her shit! Didn’t even bother to say good morning or anything!”

It’s been hours since the squash-loving hermit took refuge in your home, and you’re sizzling with rage as you recall the events from earlier. You clocked out zoomed to Abby’s building in no time.

“Damn… why didn’t you call security… or the landlord? She can’t just move in without signing the contract.”

You pace around Abby’s rug-covered space, “Bitch, I don’t fuck with feds and rent’s due in two days!” You holler, “And she did sign the contract! I haven’t signed it yet because I didn’t know she was gonna show up and act like that. You’re not disrespecting me in my own house.”

Her head shakes, “What’d I tell you? If it were me… we wouldn’t have any problems.”

You point a scolding finger at the smirking blonde girl, “Yes, we fucking would. Don’t start.”

But she presses anyway, “I think we’d be a match made in heaven, actually.” She rises from the couch and hovers over you, the tip of your index connecting with her strong, covered chest. Your glare persists, but there’s warmth pulling in your gut from her scent.

Your skin is flaming; This is why you’ll never be able to have a serious conversation — or anything, for that matter — with Abby. Her raunchy remedies aren’t going to work in this situation; You’re too stressed.

“But anyway,” Her brow arches and she backs off. Slightly. “You’re an adult and main tenant. You gotta handle it soon.” She ponders for a moment, “But to be fair, you texted her first.”

“How many times do I have to say that I was lit as fuck! I don’t even remember— “

Abby’s taunting expression makes you pause, nails digging into the skin of your palms.

“Don’t.”

Your hiss makes her snort, “I didn’t say anything.”

“You don’t have to. It’s not funny.”

Abby knows you and Dina’s history better than anyone. Knows exactly how you got caught up in “situationship” nonsense, all with liquor and a phone. You can’t fault Abby for recognizing the familiarity, but a burning sting rests in your chest. Embarrassment spreads all over your cheeks, and you announce your departure in a rush.

Her regret is evident in the way she calls out for you, but you’re out the door in seconds, slamming it as hard as the frame can hold.

The winter air hits your eyes first… You try to convince yourself, hastily wiping the wet trails off your face. You’re not fucking crying over Dina. Not again.

You snatch your phone from your pocket to ask Amaya for advice, but your heart swells when you see her messages.

You think back to all the times she’s coddled you through your emotions: she drops everything to tend to your needs, no matter how big or small. Guilt would put you in the ground if she ruins her opportunity for your convenience; You can’t tell her. She deserves to enjoy herself. You match your best friend’s excitement all the way back to your car.

Abby called twice during the drive back home, but you didn’t answer. You know she wasn’t being malicious, but you’re sensitive, especially when it comes to anything related to Dina.

You rip your apartment door open and find Ellie lounging on your fucking couch with Love Island playing from her laptop. And eating peanuts… with Chick-Fil-A ranch?

You slam her device shut, words sharp as nails, “I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m telling you right now, you’re not fucking staying here.” You’re shredding through skin with your glare, but she’s not reacting. Just sitting there and crunching, eyes void.

“Don’t even think about unpacking. You’re getting out tonight, I can promise you that.”

“No, I’m not.”

“What.”

She merely shrugs, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“What the fuck— “

More cracked shells, more munching; Your eyelid is jerking.

“Rent’s on the counter, by the way.”

You hold back a scoff before marching into the kitchen, eyeing the envelope labeled fake ass mortgage. You hear the contestants from the reality show resume their dialogue, but you’re locked on how thick the letter looks to bother scolding.

It’s torn open… and filled with hundred-dollar bills. Way more than half of rent. Ellie might’ve covered the heat bill for the rest of winter.

“I thought you were a fucking photographer.” The shock in your voice is clear as day, mindlessly returning to the living room.

“I am.” She calls dryly.

“No, you’re not.” You toss the money on the coffee table. “The fuck do you do on the side? Sell drugs to freshmen?”

“Sure.”

When your arms cross over your chest with an accusatory stare, she sighs. “I told you. I take pictures.”

“Of who? The fucking councilman?”

Another shrug. “Whoever asks. It’s how I make money…” A light pause. “At least until I secure this job.”

You squint at her, “I thought you got evicted. You’re clearly fit to pay rent on your own.”

That seems to shake her a little, staring back with hardened eyes, “And who the fuck are you to question me? The reason I’m here is because of you!”

“Exactly! This...” Arms waving around the living room. “…is my fucking space! You’re a straggler at best.”

A weighted huff escapes her before she tosses her snack on the table and stands, leaning over the table.

“You would’ve been in the same position as me if I didn’t show up. No where to fucking go,” She spits. “If you want me gone, fine. But when your landlord comes knocking on your fucking door asking why you’re two weeks late, don’t say shit to me.”

You waver slightly and she notices, smirk darker than her pupils. You’re steaming; Smoke is going to come out of your ears soon.

“The same goes for you. I don’t wanna hear your fucking voice, and don’t touch anything that I paid for,” You command, “Don’t even breathe in my space. Stay on your side and I’ll stay on mine.”

A condescending grin plasters onto her face.

“Where’d you hide that lease?”

Your heart is too weak for hatred… or so you thought.

Abby, Amaya… everyone you’ve fucking talked to about the bitch right across the hall thinks that she’s dangerous and sick and out for blood.

They’re all wrong. It’s you.

Ellie is conjuring up something villainous deep inside you; Her childish antics started off small: bumping against the wall in the middle of the night, leaving her dirty ass shoes out of place by the front door, not laying the rugs that she slipped on flat… Incredibly annoying, but fixable.

You took the time to construct a new roommate agreement that fit your unique situation the morning after your argument. It was sloppily scribbled on a crumpled piece of construction paper, but it was a symbol of peace. You taped it to her door before you left for your shift, only to return and see it ripped up and scattered in front of your door.

It’s been five days since then. Five, and you can already feel a bald spot forming at the back of your skull. To think that Ellie was your first option as a roommate just days ago is laughable now. You know that none of the tricks she’s pulling are accidental. You pride yourself in being observant, and you always catch that prideful look on her face when she nails one of your peeves.

You try to be here when Ellie’s not, but she’s always home when you are. Music blasting in the wee hours of the night knowing you have three upcoming shifts to cover, on the couch rewatching the same episode of Love Island over and over while you make your breakfast, pretending to talk on the phone to friends she doesn’t have as loudly as possible. You’re fucking tired and you’re holding your hand back from slapping her.

But the worst part is that she’s stocked your fridge with fucking squash. Top to bottom in all colors there is. Filled the drawers with one called cucurbita argyrosperma. You were torn between curling in hysterics and beating it over your new roommate's head; The petty side of your brain wishes that you were allergic so you could “accidentally” eat some, die, and get her locked up, but you hushed it. She’s fucking with you, but rent and some bills are paid for the month. What a sick turn of events.

You’re plotting, though. Something’s brewing, and Abby’s helping you. It’s finally Saturday, and college kids are fiending for a rager.

The only quality that you respect about Ellie is that she’s clean. She washes her dishes, does her laundry (separate from yours, thank God), and she’s deep-cleaned the bathroom twice already. Ellie despises large messes more than you, though, since you’re willing to sacrifice your tidy abode to piss her off. Let the ruckus in!

You heard her leave early this morning, and you’ve noticed that when she’s gone, she’s gone, which gives you all the time to plan. You skip to the bathroom like a kid in a candy store, showering, brushing your teeth, doing skincare. You whip up the hardiest breakfast you can before your mall venture with Abby; It’s been days since you’ve last nutted, and you need a new vibrator. And new paintbrushes.

“… Why haven’t you beat her ass again?”

It only took Abby buying food for you to forgive her. You slurp down your strawberry milkshake, “Fear of permanent imprisonment.”

“Does Maya know what’s been going on?” Abby asks, shaking her head.

“Fuck no, and she’s never going to. Have you seen her Snaps?” You whip out your phone and show her Amaya’s stories; She’s exploring and meeting new people. “She’s having a ball! The second I tell her what’s been going on, she’s gonna drop everything and come back. I’m not doing that to her.”

“You’re the only outlet I have, so suck it up and listen to me bitch and moan.” You continue, “Who’s coming tonight?”

She smiles, “As many as I could get.”

“Please tell me Armani’s coming.”

“She is, for sure.”

Your heart flutters. Armani… She’s everything you could ever want and need. She’s kind, smart, drop-dead gorgeous, and she bench presses with Abby on the weekends. She has your clit jumping like a salmon in the freshwater, and you’re going to see her tonight.

You jump awake at your alarm, eyes stinging as you glance at your phone. It’s a little past nine; Pregaming hours.

You throw your lazy body into the shower and conduct your special-occasions ritual, blasting your music as loud as the speaker would allow, scrubbing your body with exfoliant to your heart's content.

You exit, water cascading down your shoulders and back, towel engulfed around your body. You have no idea what to fucking wear; What color does Armani like? Do lesbians qualify for the red nail theory or is that something heteros made up for TikTok followers? What if she doesn’t like eucalyptus scented body wash?

You swallow your doubts with a shot glass.

Outfit prepping takes longer than expected, but you’re dressed, titties are out, and your thoughts are swirling like the liquor in your gut. You should call Amaya and tell her you love her—

Another shot, more dancing. You’re spinning around your small room to the bass of the beat, sloppily pulling every shot that you can, back arching and hips throwing in any direction they can.

The bass sounds louder the more you dance, every thud rattling the poster-covered walls of your room.

It’s not until the bass surpasses the song that you realize it’s not bass at all. It’s knocking… on your bedroom door. You snicker; Abby’s here with your girl.

You don’t know why she’s boxing with your door, though. Beating the shit out of it. When you yank it open, you’re instantly annoyed at who appears behind it.

A… gray sweat clad Ellie propped against the door frame, arms crossed over her chest and red hairs framing her face. You force your eyes upward, right in between hers. The dots on her face look like skittles. Since when does she have a fucking tattoo? Are you hallucinating or is it a fat ass leaf with eyeballs?

You barely registered what she said, “Can you turn that off? It’s almost eleven.”

“Why, absolutely-the-fuck-not.” You slur, and she cringes, nose wrinkling at the scent of liquor on you. “Where’s Abby?”

Ellie’s biceps are… out on the prowl. And the veins in her hands are still there. Just checking. Right between her eyes again.

“Who the hell is that?”

“My bitch.” You chuckle.

Ellie’s eyes widen and you correct yourself.

“N-Not bitch like whore. Bitch like… like, that’s my bitch! She’s great, love her. BFF… not over Amaya, though.”

Ellie’s getting annoyed; Her nose won’t stop twitching. “… Is she coming over?”

“She should be on her way.”

“Is she stupid?”

“What.”

“Is your… bitch stupid?”

“Um, no, she’s not fucking stupid. What the hell are you on.” You snap, offended for your friend.

“Tell her to stay the fuck home before she gets buried.”

… Did Ellie just threaten to kill one of your sneaky-links? Before she gets buried?

“And what the fuck are you gonna do? Just so you know, whatever you do, she’ll double it and send it back! And I’m jumping in, so— “

Your roommate’s gawking in disbelief. “… I meant buried by the snow, you fucking idiot. There’s a blizzard outside.”

You’re flatlining, you can feel it.

“There’s a what.”

“Check the damn news.” She pushes herself off the wall and turns towards her room, “And go to bed. Looks like you need it.”

Her door slams shut. She’s definitely poking fun at your eyebags. You thought you did a good job at concealing them.

A fucking blizzard? December just started. You check your phone, reading the influx of messages from your dad, Amaya, Abby telling you to stay safe and indoors and the party’s cancelled because of the storm and you want to fucking die—

You tear a slit in your blinds and… yup. Pure white is pelting from the dark gray clouds in the sky, the formerly black street painted ivory with ice. Not a car in sight, and if they are, they’re covered entirely.

The harsh reality hasn’t even set in yet. The girl you want to strangle is trapped inside with you; She’s not going anywhere, either. You’re going to be forced to see her everywhere in your two-bedroom apartment. And you’re not having sex tonight.

Plan PISS-ELLIE-OFF was a bust. You’re drunk and hungry—

Your eyes bulge; When was the last time you’ve gone grocery shopping?

You clumsily rush to the kitchen, nearly ripping your fridge door off the handle. When you're met with the pack of cream cheese and mini croissants you bought last week and all of Ellie’s fresh groceries (including squash), you almost start crying. You slept away all your pre-storm chore hours.

Ellie pads in the kitchen with an empty ice cream carton and spoon, headphones blasting in her ears. She doesn’t acknowledge you as she throws away the carton and grabs the unopened bag of salt and vinegar chips. Your mouth waters.

You watch as she rips the bag open, the salty, bitter aroma traveling into your nostrils.

“Ellie.” She can’t hear you over the fuckery penetrating her eardrums!

You tap her shoulder harder than necessary. “Don’t touch me.”

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME THERE WAS A STORM?”

Her veiny hand — fuck — pushes one of her ear cups over to the side, not even bothering to look at you as she fills her bowl to the brim with the crunchy snack; You never noticed how heavily pierced her left ear is.

“Who are you again?”

Alright. Your tongue gets loose, “You know, you don’t have to act like a fucking cunt all the time! I tried to be nice to you and—”

“Yeah, ‘cause shit talking me with your friends is so fucking nice.” She scoffs and turns, pointed glare set on you. Your stomach drops. How the fuck did she know that?

“Drop the fucking act already. You’re also a cunt…” Her eyes drag over your appearance. “Amongst other things, evidently.”

Ellie’s eyes hold so much disdain, and you instantly feel exposed and gross. Your face sears with embarrassment, arms mindlessly crossing over your chest in attempts to cover up.

“… What the fuck does that mean?” You know what she means.

“You think I’m a fucking freak and a loser and a bunch of other shit I’ve been called since forever?” She sneers, “Then you’re a fucking slut. How’s that for nice?”

Your body locks up, freezes, and you fight back vomit. Ellie grabs her bowl and exits the kitchen, door slamming shut, leaving you to simmer in her spite.

You don’t feel hungry anymore.

You didn’t drink enough last night. You’re awake, and you remember everything. And you’re so fucking hungry.

Guilt festers in your chest like rats, and anxiety is building in your fingers. Your head hurts so bad and your mouth is dry, but you refuse to move from under your blankets to get water. You didn’t even have the energy to take your make-up off last night, mascara and small sparkles smeared all over your pillowcase.

You wallow, using the heavy wind outside as stress relief. People really think you’re a whore with no self-respect, even after a year. Your heart’s hitting against your ribcage at an alarming pace. Deep breaths, that’s all you can do.

Tears jerk in your eyes as you recall every unwanted stare, every cat-call, every grope and dirty text message you’ve received from people you both know and don’t. You freeze and… that’s it. You just don’t move and hope they can read that you’re scared.

Does Ellie feel the same way when people talk poorly about her?

Your breathing techniques aren’t working so you sit up, shaking your hands and digging your palms into your wet eyes. You’re suddenly too hot for blankets.

Your clock reads near noon; You’ve been awake for hours. Your feet plant on the cool wood and sigh in relief before standing and snagging your new paint brushes off your dresser.

Your hands tremble as you fill a water cup and grab a black canvas, setting up your workspace on the floor. You squirt hues of blue, green and white on a dried paper plate and let your brush do the work; You’re not thinking, just painting, smudging, trapping yourself in emptiness. The scene you’re creating is drying your tears; You wish you could escape into the grass field, even for a second.

Your water cup is brown by the time you finish; How long have you been sitting here? The needles in your legs tell you long enough. Your vision will have to wait.

You unlock and quietly open the door… It doesn’t matter, though. Ellie’s awake and silently sitting on the couch. You pay her no mind and venture to the fridge for your croissants and cream cheese, throwing your pastries in the microwave.

Eyes are on you. You feel them in your back.

When the microwave dings, you spread cream cheese all over the buttery dough. Ellie’s hoarse voice freezes you. Not again.

“The blizzard… isn’t stopping.”

You finally inspect your roommate: leg bouncing and brows furrowed, nails between her teeth, eyes locked on the window that shows the heavy snowfall.

“Usually how they work.”

Your sarcasm doesn’t move her, “They said it would pass after a couple of hours yesterday! It hasn’t let up yet!”

“Never listen to weathermen. They make shit up as they go.” You keep your voice curt while you make your plate. It looks a hot mess; You wish you had blackberry jam.

“They can’t make shit up when there’s money on the fucking line!” You hear footsteps from behind you; Ellie’s pacing. “I have a client today. Their photos were supposed to go in my portfolio before I submit it!”

Her statement makes you pause. You didn’t think about that; It’s impossible to travel anywhere at the moment. How the fuck are you going to get to work? You can’t afford to miss shifts. It’s almost that time of the month.

“This was one of the biggest bookings I’ve gotten and I’m gonna miss it because of the fucking weather!”

You don’t know why she's talking to you, so you cut the conversation short. “You’ll figure it out.” You enter your room without another word, slamming the door as hard as noise complaints would allow.

After a few minutes, Ellie’s door slams, too.

Hours pass and you’re covered in paint. Your one flower field turned into three, one with detailed butterflies, one with raining rose petals, one with your mother’s name spelled out with clouds.

Your fingers are sore, but you feel lighter. Those croissants wore off a long time ago; You’re starving. What you’d give for grilled eggplant and shrimp with Greek yogurt and lemon juice—

A soft knock lands on your door, and you stiffen. You stand, legs popping and arms stretching over your head as you wobble to your door.

The second it opens, you're hit with the smell of garlic and herbs and your mouth waters. Ellie stands over you, playing with her fingers. You don’t register that you’re missing pants until she gawks at your bare legs; Warmth spreads across your body and you maneuver so she can’t see them behind the door.

A moment of awkward silence before she chokes, “There’s, uh… there’s soup on the stove.” You scoff, ignoring the growling in your stomach.

“I don’t like squash, Ellie.”

The door slams in her face and she sighs behind the wood.

…

Later that night, you sneak into the dark kitchen, the big pot of soup still on the stove. You open the lid and inspect its contents: shredded chicken, carrots, fucking… green leaves of some sort. You grab a spoon and taste it to be safe. It’s good, and there’s no squash in it. You eat two warm bowls.

The storm calms when you wake the next morning. Thank God; You haven’t had coffee in days.

Ellie’s gone for the day, so you blast music while in the shower. You dry and dress in silence, yanking your underwear and jeans up your legs, throwing on a pair of earmuffs over your earphones and a puffer.

You almost slip on the ice from the sidewalk on the way to you and Abby’s coffee shop before heading to class like normal. You go grocery shopping before your first shift.

Work drags on like normal, legs numb from standing and throat dry from sale attempts at checkout. Who the fuck wants to apply for a credit card for a coffee machine website?

It’s not until your shift is on its last limbs that your heart stops in your chest. The bell rings to the hardware store, and you instantly rush to the back to retrieve your other coworker. It’s Dina. What the fuck.

You burst into the break room, “Raja, Raja, I need a favor.”

She slurps her ramen, exclaiming what around her soggy noodles.

You search for any heads and whisper, “There’s someone I used to fuck outside! Can you take care of her, please, I can’t— “

“Okay, okay, damn. I got it— “

The service bell rings, “Go, go! Hurry up!” Your coworker swallows her noodles and plasters her smile on her face. You hide behind the cracked door and listen to everything.

“Hey, ladies! Sorry about the wait!”

“No problem!” Dina’s laugh sends a pain in your chest, “I just needed a new bike lock. Someone tried to steal mine, like, what the fuck.”

There’s an unfamiliar laugh that melds with Dina’s. “No problem! Would you like to sign up for a Coffee Brewers credit card with your purchase? They’ll repair all filter baskets and decanters for 45% off!”

You almost smile; Dina doesn’t drink coffee. Raja checks them out, and you peer out the small opening of the door. Dina and… whoever the fuck that is are snuggled up behind the service counter, her head resting on the random’s shoulder. They’re whispering and laughing and you’re disgusted. And sad.

They depart with a small bag and Raja almost smashes the door into your face.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Mourning.”

“Damn… sorry, man.”

You shrug and thank your coworker before returning to your position. What could’ve been.

It’s late when you get home.

Ellie’s on the couch; You feel her watch as you unlace your boots and unravel your scarf. You set your bag on the floor and grab your Cheesecake Factory brown bread loaf for your grilled PB&J. Ellie clears her throat; You say nothing.

She coughs louder when you butter your bread.

“Are you sick or something?”

Ellie whips her head around, “No, why?”

“You’re coughing like you’re gonna die.”

Your roommate doesn’t reply, so you turn and toast your bread on the stove.

“How was the soup?”

Your eyes bulge, “Huh?”

“Did it taste… like, decent?”

You stare down at your sizzling toast, “I dunno what you mean.”

Voice flat as ever, she says, “The soup… you had some— “

“No, I didn’t— “

“Wha— I know what was in the pot when I ate. You had some—”

You face her, skin boiling, “Okay, and what about it? Yes, I ate some! I would’ve had three bowls instead of two if I wasn’t so fucking tired! It was good as fuck! I slept like a baby!”

She calls your name but you ignore her, “Sorry, I got my disgusting, slutty germs all over your stupid chicken noodle soup! Is that what you wanna hear! What, are whores not allowed food, either?! Why’d you offer it to me then?!”

Another rushed call of your name, but you press on, “Y’know, you’re actually weird as fuck! Who calls someone a filthy, bottom of the barrel gutter rat then offers them soup the next day! What kinda limbo fuckery are you playin’ at— “

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP… BEEP—

You gasp when the fire alarm sounds. When you turn, your toast is charred black and surrounded by dark smoke. You cut the heat off and push the pan over. Ellie’s running with a towelette, waving it around the beeping alarm.

You grab a washcloth and help her, and eventually it cuts off. Ellie rushes over to the front door and switches the ceiling fan on.

Your sandwich is fucking ruined. Great!

You don’t know why you’re sobbing, but it’s loud. You just want to go to fucking bed. Ellie’s just standing there with a towel in hand, fiddling with her earlobe. How embarrassing.

You push yourself off the counter and turn to go to your room, but Ellie calls for you.

“What?! What now, Ellie!”

She cringes, “I— You’re not a… slut?”

Your teary eyes squint at her. “Are you asking me— “

“No! No, I’m… Sorry? You’re not a slut.” This is the weirdest apology you’ve ever received in your entire goddamn life.

“Well, fuck me! Thanks!” You snark between sniffles. You yank your bedroom door open.

“You’re good at painting!” She shouts, and you stop.

For some reason, you sob harder, and she panics, “Uhh… I mean, like, for an amateur! Like, you’re decent enough!”

Now you’re… laughing? You need to sleep now. Ellie chuckles uncomfortably, and you snicker darkly to yourself, “Life is a fucking joke, oh my god.”

Your fingers dig deep into your wet eyes, and Ellie’s sock-covered feet pad closer.

“Look, I’m not… I don't know what to say.”

“Then don’t talk.”

“‘Kay.”

She stands there in silence and watches you wipe your face on your sweater sleeve, mascara smearing all over the fabric.

“Why didn’t you use squash in the soup?”

“Uh… you wouldn’t have eaten it if I did.”

You nod and stare at the wall. “So, what? That was a peace offering?”

Ellie contemplates what she should say.

“Not really… I mean, I was hungry, but I didn’t care if you ate… some of it, if that makes sense.”

It doesn’t. “Whatever, I’m going to bed.” Her lip curls like she wants to add something, but she doesn’t.

“… Alright.”

“Don’t worry about the pan. I’ll get it tomorrow.” And just like that, you shut the door on her again.

You don’t have the energy to shower, so you undress and tuck yourself in. Your room is warmer than usual.

Ellie’s been acting differently since then.

For the past three days, she’s been greeting you whenever you’re in her line of vision. She even mumbled hi before she took her seat in stats yesterday. It’s awkward and stiff, but there’s always a wave somewhere in her movements. You nod back at her every time.

You’re not sure where your relationship lies with your roommate, but it’s not as… bad? Seeing her doesn’t bother you as much as it did; You suppose it’s the same for her, too.

You’re exhausted; Finals are around the corner, and you’re busting your ass. You had to get another job for the holiday season since it’s you and your dad’s first Christmas together since you were little, and you want to get him something nice.

All you need is a good nut and you’re set for the next two weeks. You miss Abby. She’s been just as busy with nonsense as you have, but you found time to see her later tonight.

You’re stuck in the library trying to make the concept of categorical variables stick, but it’s not working. You’re in a block because you’re thinking about Abby. She should be here to pick you up soon.

You slam your book shut when your phone goes off, a message from… Ellie.

You set your phone down with a small smile. What a weirdo.

You force yourself to study for another hour. Heavy hands clamp down on your shoulders and you shriek, other students looking up in confusion, your hand clasping over your mouth.

Abby’s laughing behind you, warm breaths hitting your ear before she kisses your cheek.

“Hi.” She whispers.

“Hi yourself.”

“Pack that shit up.” Abby points at your books and messy stacks of paper. “Let’s roll.”

You don’t hesitate, shoving everything in your bag in anticipation of your nut. Your clit’s cheering; She’s finally happy.

You’re warm, well-fed, and Abby’s drilling the fuck out of you, but you can’t cum.

Your face is shoved into your friend’s pillow; She’s hitting exactly where you need her to, and it feels good. You’re tipping, but you haven’t tipped. You’ve been on the verge of orgasming for the past ten minutes and it’s driving you crazy.

Your voice is barely there, “Just cuuum, just cum, just cum—“ You’re begging… yourself into her pillow.

Abby sounds so sexy behind you; You’re shocked you’re not convulsing at the sound of her voice alone.

After some time, her hips slowed into a stop, tip nudged inside you.

“… You good?” She exhales.

You throw her two thumbs up. You’re not good at all.

Abby snorts and pulls out, gently patting your hip, “Sit up and talk to me.”

Your legs give out from underneath you and you lay flat. Abby hands you a washcloth and you wipe between your legs while she unstraps her dick.

“I think I’m broken.” You muffle into her slobbery pillowcase.

“You’re not broken, you’re just not feeling it. It’s fine.”

She’s too sweet. You want to cry, “I’m sor— “

“Don’t you dare. Finish your Wingstop.”

“Okay.” You grumble.

Abby drops you off after the movie finishes. The red string that connects her clit to yours snaps as you waddle back up to your apartment.

You enter your shared home and you’re instantly freezing; Ellie’s not here. She hates sleeping when it’s cold.

You and your pussy sigh in relief. Just five minutes by yourself; that’s all you need. Your shoes and backpack are thrown to the side in the nick of time, bursting through your bedroom door and rummaging through your drawer. Your cunt screams eureka when your vibrator turns on. You don’t remember charging the son of a bitch!

Your pants and panties are lunged across your bedroom and you leap into bed. Your toy’s buzzing in your hand, and your walls squeeze in anticipation. Foreplay be damned.

Your eyes shut the second the vibrations hit your clit, trying to imagine a sweaty Abby on top of you, fucking you deep, choking you out. Your orgasm is right there, walls desperately trying to milk the brisk air around you. You shove two free fingers inside, and your muscles latch onto them, pulling them in deeper. It’s right there, just a little more.

“Please, please, c’mon, fuck— “

Your pleas go ignored. Your imagination has never failed you, so why can’t you fucking cum?

Desperate sobs combine with your moans, brain filled with Abby, and Dina. Even Armani slips her way in there and you’ve seen her twice in person, but it’s useless. Your peak never comes.

You’re seconds away from shattering your window with your fucking vibrator. You and Ellie can’t afford to get that shit fixed—

Your clit jumps at the brief image of your roommate, pissed off and berating you about breaking a fucking window. You hate that you don’t fight it, the visions of her and her strong arms, her twitchy nose, her dot-covered face. It’s stirring something vicious in your tummy, and you can’t keep your mouth shut.

You see her on top of you instead of Abby, her short hair loosening from her bun and framing her blushing face. Pretty, moss-filled eyes stare back at you, annoyance and bother replaced with something darker. Needier; She wants you to take from her.

“Fuck, fuck, mmh— “

Your hips buck when your positions switch in your mind, a blushing, spent Ellie, reaching for you, pulling you close, begging to touch her.

You’re so loud when your orgasm splits your brain in two, your stress melting away in an instant, nasty, unspoken visuals of your pouty and weird housemate fluttering beneath your eyelids. You ride your high until you can’t, vibrator clattering to the floor, walls flexing around nothing.

You’re so tired that you don’t bother moving. You pull the covers over your trembling form and knock out, not even bothering to turn your shaking toy off as it rattles on the hardwood.

It’ll be dead by the time Ellie comes home. If she does.

…

Ellie lays on her side in her bed, knees pulled to her chest, her tattooed arm wrapped around her tummy and a hand covering her mouth. Her face is burning hot and her stomach is swirling. Whenever she blinks, she can see you, eyes rolled to the back of your head as you surrender to your release.

Her heart is racing and minutes away from crawling up her throat.

She completely forgets to put in that maintenance request for your broken heater; She’s warm enough under the covers for tonight.

A/N: hi again its finna pick up LEMME COOOOOK LEMME COOK

TAGGIES LOVE YALL MMMWAH : @starologist @hrtmal @ohlawdthebirds @villainousbear @timmy-27 @inf3ct3dd @aouiaa @shurisbigtoe @emothurman @lonelyfooryouonly @imelliesgf @baumbii @brackishkittie @littletinyladybugs @r1miese @horror-whoree @elsbunny222 @elliesatchel @makemescreamel @lav3nd3rhaze @elliezflower @ellieloml @ellies-princess @saverdelrey @womenofarcane @muthafuckingstargirl @mina-281 @yuckyfucky @aimformyheartt @elstoy @skylerwhitwyo @sawaagyapong @nil-eena @dewylittlestars @sakiigami @feelsoseencantdream @ellieslittlegf

#click! ☾⋆⁺₊📸✧#ellie williams smut #ellie williams au #ellie williams #ellie williams x you #ellie williams angst #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x black!reader #black!oc #black!reader #works 𖧧࣪#lesbian

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cupid-styles · 7 months

Text

silk and rope

the long awaited ddlg harry and yn pairing has finally arrived!!!

some general disclaimers: I've never been in a relationship like this myself nor have I experimented too much with proper bdsm techniques, so there may be some things that are wrong in this!!!! I did research and tried my best to make it as accurate as possible but pls don't come for me if something isn't right ok thank yoooouuuuuu!!!!!!!

word count: 10.6k

content warnings: daddy dom and sub/little yn relationship, big ol’ daddy kink, basically just a lot of smut (bondage, overstimulation, use of toys, dirty talk, f oral, penetration), discussions of subspace and crappy sexual experiences (nothing forced), yn in little/sub space

"Y/N, I just don't think this is working out anymore."

Normally, Y/N is able to see this coming.

In the past, she's had 20/20 hindsight, predicted when whatever man she was seeing — or rather, submitting to — had finally gotten bored of her, and been able to paste a smile on her face when it finally happened. She could bite her tongue hard enough to prevent the flush that would eventually warm her entire body with embarrassment, mumble out some nonsense response ("okay, that's fine, I appreciate the time we spent together", which was usually a lie anyway), give them a halfhearted hug and let them go.

Todd, however? The world's worst dominant? She seriously can't believe that Todd of all people is ending things.

Realistically, Y/N doesn't really care that Todd isn't interested in dominating her anymore. He was shit at aftercare and only paid attention to maintaining a sexual relationship, as opposed to an emotional one, too. (Y/N's profile specifically said that she was looking for a dominant inside and outside of the bedroom.) So, when it comes down to it, it's fine that Todd is putting a stop to their rather lackluster relationship, but Y/N is unprepared.

Typically, at this point, she already has a date with another dominant lined up for 24 hours from now. She's already talking to other people, listing out her hard limits and what she's looking for, maybe even switching her photos around to change things up after being on this god forsaken website for a year and a half.

And maybe she, too, was so unsatisfied with Todd that she wasn't paying enough attention to realize the end was coming.

But with her slightly squinted eyes and half-open jaw, it must seem that she's in some sort of immediate stage of heartbreak (she's not, she's just surprised), because Todd goes to sling his arm around her shoulders and presses a kiss to the side of her head.

"It's not you, babe, it's me," he says, and it makes Y/N want to elbow him in the ribs, "Really, you were great. Fantastic every time. Just think I'm looking for someone a little bit more... emotionally stable, y'know?"

That's what breaks Y/N out of her trance, so she quickly rises from her couch and wordlessly opens the front door.

"Thanks. You can go now."

With furrowed eyebrows, Todd stands up, as if he was expecting her to get down on her knees and grovel at his feet, begging him to stay.

"See, this is what I'm talking about, babe— one second you're all quiet and mousey, and the next you're trying to boss me around like I'm the submissive," he feens offense as he pulls his sneakers on, "I think you should probably get your brain together before you start seeing someone else, it's a real mindfuck."

"Okay," Y/N smiles tightly, gesturing outside to the chilly evening. "See you around, Todd."

The confused expression remains on Todd's face but thankfully, he leaves without another word. Y/N lets out a deep sigh as she shuts the door behind him and locks it up. She grabs one of the leftover muffins she made at work today, plops down on the couch, and turns on the TV to find a show to fall asleep to.

. . .

If Harry's being honest, the bar is the last place he wants to be right now.

And he would be at home if he hadn't blown his friends off for the past three weeks, and Claire hadn't stopped by his desk while he was packing his things up, threatening to kidnap him if he wasn't planning on attending this evening.

He feels bad, especially because he knows he has the tendency to prioritize work over his friends, so he shoots her a tight smile and tells her to lead the way.

So now he's at their usual booth in the corner, slowly nursing a lukewarm beer that he'd ordered an hour ago when they arrived. He's halfway listening to a story Lea is telling about her shitty on-again, off-again boyfriend, occasionally suppressing the urge to yawn. He glances down at the watch on his wrist to read the time and promises himself that he'll stay another 30 minutes before ducking out.

Truthfully, he's bored, and he's tired, and his bed is calling to him in a way that's almost painful. He occupies himself by people-watching, trying to guess who's on first dates or, like him and his friends, getting together for weekly drinks. It's only then that he zeroes in on her — Y/N, that is — sitting alone at the bar top, slightly hunched over as she taps on her phone, a glass of wine in the other hand.

Harry doesn't know Y/N that well. He knows that she went to college with Naomi, who started inviting her to things around a year ago, and now she's always just around. He's unsure if she actually likes any of them besides Naomi, though — she's quiet and introverted, which Harry respects and understands, but the one-on-one conversations they've had are few and far between.

But that's why his interest is piqued in the first place. He's never witnessed her sitting alone at the bar, and a twinge of concern fires through him as he watches her. He clears his throat and turns back to the table, unintentionally cutting Lea off.

"Is Y/N okay?" he asks, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the bar.

"What? I didn't even know she was here," Lea says as she peers over with a shrug, "Seems fine to me."

She continues on with her story and Harry rolls his eyes, grabbing his pint and striding over to where Y/N is sitting. He props himself up on the stool next to her and waves the bartender down, pointing to his glass.

"Hey, Y/N," Harry greets easily as his glass gets refilled. She looks up from her phone and immediately locks it, as if he's tearing her from some deep thinking, surprised that anyone would come to bother her in a busy pub. "How are you?"

With slightly parted lips, she looks a bit bewildered. "Um... I'm fine. How are you, Harry?"

He swallows, glancing down at the half-full glass of white wine she's drinking. He's never actually seen her drunk, despite near-weekly meetups at this pub. She seems tipsy, not fully under water, though decently buzzed.

"I'm good, thanks," he forces a smile onto his lips as an effort to seem as though he's not concerned for her wellbeing. "I saw you over here and realized I didn't even say hi to you."

Y/N shrugs. "I didn't really feel like socializing tonight. Naomi kind of dragged me here."

"Ah, Claire did the same to me," Harry replies understandingly, nodding his head, "Said she'd kidnap me if I didn't come out."

She scoffs at that before tilting the glass back towards her lips, taking another hearty gulp. He doesn't miss the thin wince she makes as the liquid touches her tongue, swallowing it down quickly.

"Is it 'cos you got broken up with, too?"

Harry's eyes widen at her question, but she's already looked past him, zoning out with a bleary look.

"Oh... I'm sorry, Y/N. Do you want to talk about it?"

He's not great at emotional conversations, especially with people he barely knows, but he supposes it's a decent explanation for why she's in this state. He's content with lending a shoulder to cry on, he decides, because he doubts Naomi had done the same.

"It wasn't really a breakup, it's fine," she mutters with a dismissive wave of her hand. "We weren't dating, is what I mean."

Although she attempts at some sort of explanation, Harry's still confused, but he nods as if he understands.

"Was it like a friends with benefits situation?" he guesses, and she shrugs noncommittally.

"Kind of."

"So it was complicated, then," Harry murmurs. He gets that — he's been there a thousand times over, and he understands the pain associated with those types of situations.

"It wasn't," she shakes her head, and now Harry knows she's just spewing out drunken nonsense, "He was my... dominant. Or tried to be. He was really fucking shitty at it."

Dominant?

The familiar word echoes through the chambers of Harry's mind. He's certainly not unacquainted with dominant and submissive dynamics, but he's shocked — more than, really — that Y/N refers to a typically taboo word in such a casual way. He chalks it up to the alcohol, but he's still surprised that Y/N even had a dominant to begin with.

"I met him on one of those stupid seeking arrangements websites, which honestly never produces good results," Y/N continues, making Harry's eyes widen even more. He's sure that she would never reveal this information to any of their mutual friends, let alone him of all people. "Every dom I've had from there has been... whatever. But he was particularly awful, and he just ended things out of nowhere. Normally I like to have someone else lined up, but... yeah."

Even in her alcohol-fueled state, Y/N realizes that she's rambling, providing far too many personal details to Harry, who she rarely talks to. She knows she'll be ridiculously embarrassed by the entire evening as soon as the wine drunk haze wears off, but for now, Harry's on the receiving end of her secrets.

Harry clears his throat and straightens his posture, sitting up a little taller. "Well, you said it yourself. Those sites are shitty, the dominants on there are usually just looking to experiment for the first time and they don't know what they're doing. The local BDSM community is your best bet... clubs and gatherings and such."

Y/N wrinkles her eyebrows and peers at Harry beside her. He's looking straight ahead and nibbling on his bottom lip, his hand firmly grasped around his glass. She doesn't know much about Harry besides the fact that he works at some large company with a relatively well-off position. He's gorgeous, of course, and has flings with people here and there but otherwise, her knowledge of what him is... well, almost non-existent.

It wasn't totally impossible — the likelihood that Harry, like Y/N, was involved in similar sexual dynamics. She wouldn't classify herself as part of the BDSM community, but perhaps it was because she'd never dove headfirst into learning about it outside of what she's interested in. She felt that what she looked for in a dominant was rather... specific.

"Do you... are you...?" Y/N doesn't quite know how to phrase the question, "are you a dom?" without sounding like a total creep, so she allows him to fill in the blanks. His throat bobs as he takes a sip of his beer, shrugging his shoulders tersely.

"Yeah," he finally answers. "Not very consistently, I guess, but I'll take on a sub a few times year. Usually for a few months."

She nods slowly, squinting her eyes a bit as she tries to picture it. She's not sure what type of dominant Harry is — whether he's sweet and soft, or tough and enjoys pushing his subs to their limit each and every time — but regardless, the mere thought of it is enough to make her squeeze her thighs.

"What about you?" he asks, shifting his position to face her. "It sounds like you go through doms kind of... quickly."

Y/N hums, "Kind of, I guess. I think I have kind of... like, particular needs, and not everyone is interested in it."

It's the most they've ever spoken to one another, and Harry doesn't even think before he's asking her what exactly she looks for in a dominant. He's immediately embarrassed — he doesn't know what made him question her so openly, but he can't help his curiosity.

She waves his slight exasperation off, clearly not offended by his press for details.

"Can I just ask that you don't tell anyone?" Y/N says, looking at the man sitting next to her. "It's like, a little embarrassing, and I've never told our friends about it. Not even Naomi."

"Of course," Harry quips. He's always been good at keeping those types of things under wraps — he didn't believe anyone had anything to gain by learning about someone's sexual interests.

"I... I guess I have some trauma stemming from childhood that I've worked through in recent years. It's not important to this, but I tend to look for dominants who fulfill more of a caretaker role. I like to be... taken care of. In certain ways."

Her cheeks flush as the words leave her mouth as he listens to her closely. He's not sure if he's reading between the lines, looking too far into her explanation, but he gets it. He thinks.

"So... a daddy dom?" Harry asks softly. Y/N rolls her lips into her mouth and nods curtly.

"That's nothing to be embarrassed about," he murmurs once he receives confirmation, "A lot of people like that type of relationship. I can understand why you'd be interested in it, especially if you have trauma."

She shrugs. "A lot of people think it's weird, too."

"Sure, but those aren't the people you should be seeking relationships out with," Harry replies easily, "What do you look for specifically? I'm sure we could find someone for you in the community."

Y/N lets a deep breath out, rolling her neck to each of her shoulders. She can't believe they're having this conversation in public, but she'd be lying if she said Harry wasn't easy to talk to. Plus, at the night went on, more people filed out of the bar considering it was a weekday.

"It's not necessarily age play I'm after, which I think a lot of people think is what I want," she explains, "Just like... a caregiver, I guess, that's there for me both in and out of the bedroom. I, um... on bad days, fall into a... headspace, and it's very difficult to navigate that on my own. If that makes sense."

"Makes perfect sense," Harry nods. "Are you looking for punishments and such?"

"Yeah." she breathes, nibbling at her lip as she crosses her legs, attempting to mitigate the dull throbbing in her core.

"Y/N, do you have my number?"

She swallows as she peers up at him through her eyelashes, shaking her head. He puts his hand out and she grabs her phone, placing it in his palm. He taps at the screen and she assumes he's putting his information in her contacts.

"Claire drove me here so I can't give you a ride home, but I'm gonna order you an Uber so you can head home," he murmurs lowly, handing her phone back to her. "Text me tomorrow. Can we get together after work?"

Y/N nods with slightly rounded eyes, making him smile gently. He realizes she must be more depraved than he thought if she's already slipping into her little space from an act as simple from that.

"Keep it together 'til you get home," Harry says with a quirked eyebrow, though embarrassment quickly washes over Y/N's body. He chuckles as she blushes, patting her thigh lightly. "I'll walk you out."

She grabs her bag and follows him out of the bar, welcoming the autumnal chill as it pimples her skin.

"Are you gonna slip on the way back?"

Y/N looks up to see Harry towering over her, a concerned expression on his face.

"N-no. I'm fine."

He continues analyzing her for a moment or two more before he finally nods once. "Okay. If you feel yourself getting there, call me."

"I won't. I promise."

Harry hums as a black sedan rolls up to the curb. He checks to make sure it's the correct license plate before guiding her to the car and holding the door open for her. She gets in the backseat and he nods at the driver, murmuring down at her, "seatbelt on."

She complies readily and he smiles, patting her head softly. "Message me when you get home. We'll talk tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay. Thank you, Harry."

20 minutes later when he receives a text from her stating that she's made it home safely, he already knows he'll do anything to be her dominant.

. . .

Harry half expects Y/N to pretend like last night ever happened.

He would understand it if she did. She was tipsy, revealing intimate details about her sexual preferences pertaining to BDSM. No one else from their friend group knew. It just ended up coming out for both of them — Harry doesn't parade his dominant role in the bedroom all around town, but if someone he knows asks, he's happy to admit to it and talk more about it. He's not ashamed by any means, but he can tell that Y/N is. She prefaced her explanation by stating that she has trauma — and really, who doesn't? — and hinted that dominants in the past have found her requests to be weird.

Harry doesn't think the whole daddy dom thing is strange. He understands it, especially pertaining to a psychological, healing level. He's never engaged in that sort of dynamic before, typically sticking to scratching the itch his submissives usually had, whether it be getting tossed around a little, orgasm denial, or being tied up. He was happy to do what made them happy, but he usually kept it in the bedroom.

The thought of taking up a caregiver role in Y/N's life made his spine tingle.

He's always been interested in her — not even in a romantic or sexual way, he's always just found her fascinating. She's quiet and shy, beautiful, and the definition of a wallflower. Naomi brought her in one day and she just never left. It's been a year since then and Harry doesn't think she's spoken more than 15 words to the others.

And so, with all of this knowledge under his belt, he spends his day at work worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and constantly unlocking his phone. When he gets home that evening, narrowly avoiding Claire's proposal at more social interaction, he's lost all hope, even though he did tell her to text him when she was finished with work. He's properly pouting as he sits on his couch, knees to his chest, when his phone lights up on the coffee table in front of him.

From: Y/N Y/L/N

hey harry:) first of all, im so sorry about last night. i was clearly having a tough day and i definitely took advantage of u being willing to chat with me, so im sorry if i revealed too much or took you away from everyone else.. i know u don't go out often and im really sorry if i ruined it

im also not sure if you still have interest in what we talked about last night w helping me find someone... its totally ok if you've changed ur mind or you were just drunk or whatever. again, i know i was being a lot so no worries!! sorry! just lmk :)

Harry's heart squeezes as he reads over her repeated apologies. In two texts, she said variations of "I'm sorry" four times. She thought she had ruined his night in some way when it was the complete opposite.

His thumbs hover over the screen as he thinks of a response. He's over the moon that she still decided to text him and that she'd avoiding the path of pretending nothing happened. In all honesty, he's unsure if he could live with himself when he had all those images and thoughts of her in his head, knowing that they'd just moved on from it.

Hey Y/N. Please don't apologize for last night, I had a really nice time talking to you. I'm definitely still interested. Are you available tonight?

She's quick in her reply, which makes him smile. He can imagine the way she's probably alternating between biting her lip and picking at the skin around her fingernails, both of which he assumed were nervous habits that he picked up on last night.

ok if you say so.. and yes im free! i was planning on ordering some takeout if ur interested, i don't really have any food here that isn't a baked good lol

Harry chuckles at that. Claire mentioned once that Y/N works at the bakery close to the park he does his morning jogs through. When he passes by at early sunrise, the windows are often illuminated with a warm glow, and he wonders if it's coming from her.

That's okay, I was planning on cooking if you'd like me to bring you some. I have ingredients for a stir fry. Would that be okay?

She replies with what he can only describe as a bashful but affirmative answer (only if you're sure!! but that sounds great!) and sends a second message with her address. He's beaming as he chops up vegetables and sautes them up rice noodles and homemade peanut sauce, indulging in the simple act of cooking for Y/N.

Last night, after he'd gotten home from the bar, he'd done some research on daddy dom relationships. He knew of them, but if he was going to offer being Y/N's, he wanted to ensure that he was knowledgable on anything she could want. He learned that there were many different facets of that type of dynamic, some of which he was comfortable with and some of which he wasn't. Like any other dominant and submissive relationship, hard and soft limits would be discussed, but this one, Harry realized, wouldn't just consist of kinks he had no interest in engaging in.

As he spoons the finished stir fry into a plastic container to take to Y/N's, his stomach brews with butterflies. He's never expressed interest in dominating someone he already knows in real life. Those relationships existed purely in the confides of the bedroom. It's a commitment, he understands, to engage in such an agreement with her.

So why isn't he scared?

. . .

"This is delicious, Harry," Y/N all but moans over her serving of stir fry, chopsticks in hand. He smiles before biting into a piece of broccoli coated in peanut sauce.

"I'm glad you like it. It's a go-to dish for me, especially on weekdays when I'm exhausted from work."

She hums, nodding thoughtfully as she chews. A temporary silence takes over as they eat, ended by Harry eventually clearing his throat and gently placing his bowl on the table.

"So, about finding you a dom," he says, and her eyes perk up slightly, as if she's an over-excited puppy. "I have a proposition."

"Oh, you found someone already?"

"Sort of," Harry answers vaguely, "I think— well, no, I know. I would be interested in taking that place."

Y/N raises her eyebrows. She sets her own bowl of food on the table and purses her lips as she chews the rest of the contents in her mouth.

"I don't think you want that." she says gently.

"Why?" he shoots back, a near immediate response, "I spent all night and day thinking about it. I do."

Y/N sighs, "Because it's more than just spanking me when I have an attitude with you or cooking me a meal. I can be a lot, Harry, and it's the reason why I've gone through so many dominants already."

"Has it ever occurred to you that maybe you go through so many because they're the problem?" Harry asks. "You lay it all out on the table, right? You tell them exactly what you're looking for. Everything you told me last night."

She nods.

"And they still agree. You tell them you want a dominant outside of the bedroom, too, that the 'daddy' role you're looking for is a caretaker," Harry continues, "So how does that make you the issue?"

"Because what I'm looking for is... unconventional," she fights back, convinced in her stance. "Guys think the whole daddy thing is hot until... until I actually need them."

"It's not unconventional, Y/N. I did a ton of research last night. There are a million sites explaining what a DDLG relationship is and what it can consist of. The things that go into it on both sides, but especially on the dominant's. I'm not saying I know everything about being one, but I've at least cared to learn."

Y/N sighs and rolls her lips into mouth. She'll admit, she's impressed. She's not sure any guy she's ever been with has done that.

"So... what would you want, then?" Y/N asks, her voice softened.

"Well, I definitely have limits, but it's mainly dependent on what you're interested in," Harry explains. She finds that he's far too nonchalant for his own good, and the casual nature of his tone makes her even more nervous.

"If you did some research then I'm sure you learned about the extents it can go to," she says thoughtfully and he nods, resting his chin in his palm, "I don't have a desire for the more extreme things. Diapers and pacifiers and all that."

"Okay."

She's taken aback by his lack of response — part of her expected some sort of "oh, thank god" — but she's starting to wonder if Harry just simply exists in a nonjudgmental space. One that she's very much not used to.

"I just want someone to take care of me," she eventually forced out, setting her gaze on her bare thighs, a pair of lavender sweatshorts hung around her hips. "I can be bratty both in bed and out. I like to be put in my place. I enjoy being teased and humiliated. I like punishments and being pushed to my limits, even if I give you a hard time about it. I've been described as a handful when I'm feeling... little."

Harry had read a decent amount about "little space" last night. He'd dominated some partners to the point of falling into subspace, but little space seemed to differ. With his base knowledge on submission, he was able to tell that she was slipping into hers last night, giving him the inkling that making decisions for her and taking away the guess work was something she liked.

"I'm sure you're not, but all of those things are fine by me," Harry replies easily, "What do you like when you're feeling little?"

"It depends on what put me there. If I had a bad day at work, I like a bath and you cooking for me... I get really touchy. If it happens from a sexual scenario, it can be quite difficult to pull me out. But I get really quiet... I'll be more pliable, allow you to throw me around. I'll usually cry, but if you're doing things correctly, they won't be bad tears. Just from overwhelm."

"What sexual scenarios put you there?"

She clears her throat, her tongue thick in her mouth. Thinking about these things is enough to make her slip, but she won't disclose that. At least not right now.

"A number of things... edging or orgasm denial, being tied up and gagged. Anal since it requires trust and prepping. Any type of punishment, but especially spanking."

Harry's nodding his head as she speaks, apparent that he's processing everything she's telling him. He's not surprised by anything, per se, considering he's open to different experiences and nothing seems undoable. It's as if he's making a mental list, adding a separate section to his brain with Y/N's name plastered over it, filing away the information.

"What about when you're not feeling little?" Harry proceeds with little befuddlement, "What does the ideal dominant look like for you then?"

"Um... still just loving and caring. I likely won't be as bratty. More... in control of myself, I suppose," Y/N murmurs in reflection. "I would still like to have scenes with you when I'm not in that headspace, if that's alright. I'm not sure if it would be crossing a boundary."

"Of course." he answers readily without a blink of doubt, "When I embark on a dominant and submissive relationship, I don't like to half-ass it. I don't think there's a point in only asking for me when you need me. You'll never find comfort in me when you're feeling small."

Her heart warms at that, flutters in her tummy making it difficult to hide the smile curling at her lips. She assumes that she should've guessed Harry would be good at this type of thing; she's witnessed how deeply he cares for people. Even when they barely knew each other, he always greeted Y/N like they'd known one another for years, asking about her job at the bakery (she doesn't even remember if she told him he worked at one) and what sweets they were creating nowadays.

She thinks Harry just has a way of making people feel special.

It's what makes her core tingle, squeezing her thighs together for a semblance of relief as she rolls her lips into her mouth. She can feel herself starting to dampen in her underwear and she glances down at Harry's lower half, peeking through her eyelashes to see if he has a growing bulge.

"Do you think we can do a scene tonight, maybe?" Y/N asks softly, glancing back up at his eyes.

Harry chuckles. "I take it you think I'd be a good fit for you then."

"Mhm."

"You're cute," he smirks and pinches her thigh lightly, "No scenes tonight though. I can come over tomorrow, but I want to properly feed you and make sure you're hydrated before we do anything."

Y/N nods as she nibbles on her bottom lip. If she's being honest, she wants nothing more than to crawl into Harry's lap, parting her thighs and grinding into him while he babbles dirty words into her ear. She's always found him attractive, but knowing that he's willing to cater to her own sexual desires lights a fire deep in her stomach.

"I'm gonna head home, but I'm looking forward to getting started with you," Harry says with a small smile, "Oh, one more thing — no touching yourself tonight."

Her eyes widen as he stands from the couch, ready to grovel; they haven't even begun doing anything yet and he's already telling her what to do—

"Y/N," Harry growls, reaching up to grab her face. He squishes her cheeks together and her pupils broaden, surprised by his sudden change in demeanor. "Nod if you understand."

She nods.

"Good girl. I'll text you when I'm coming over tomorrow. I'll bring you dinner again."

Again, she nods.

"Say 'thank you', Y/N."

"Thank you, daddy."

Harry's lips curl into a smirk, releasing his grasp. "Oh, we're gonna have fun together."

. . .

The next day, Y/N can't stop squirming.

It's to the point where her co-workers notice that she's jumpier than normal, clumsy in her icing and piping when she's normally spot-on and nearly perfect in her efforts. She hears from Harry a few times throughout the day — he texts her in the morning and during his lunch break, checking in to see how she's doing, and it makes her entire body swarm with butterflies. He asks if she's eating a proper lunch (she's not), scolds her for it (which she secretly enjoys), and then tells her he'll make her something for her to take to work tomorrow.

Thankfully, she doesn't have a closing shift today, so she's done at a little past 6 pm. It's to her surprise, though, when she's peeling off her flour-coated apron, she spots Harry standing outside the bakery, a cozy cardigan and a graphic t-shirt covering his body.

Y/N has to do a double take. He didn't say anything about meeting her at work this evening, but he has to be here for her, doesn't he?

After sliding her jacket on and grabbing her tote bag, she exits the bakery, closing the glass door behind her gingerly. Harry turns, his eyes lighting up when he sees her.

"Hey," he greets with a grin, "Have a good day at work?"

"Um, yeah, it was alright. Sorry, did we say you would pick me up? I must've forgotten—"

"Oh, no," Harry shakes his head as he jerks his head in the direction of his car, reaching out to slide her bag off of her shoulder. He takes it into his hand, his fingers wrapping around the canvas strap as she shuffles to keep up. "I finished making dinner a little early, figured I'd meet you here. Is that alright?"

"Yeah. Yeah, that's really nice of you, thank you."

Harry hums as they approach his car. He unlocks the doors and they both get in, but he leans over before she has a chance to buckle herself up, clicking her seatbelt in. It's a small act that makes the butterflies return, but she doesn't comment on it as he starts the engine and begins the short drive back to hers.

"I made us some veggie pasta for dinner tonight. Does that sound good?"

"Delicious," Y/N replies honestly as she watches blurs of warm-toned leaves go by. "Thank you again."

A soft smile appears on his lips as he pulls onto her road. "Of course. How are you feeling?"

"I'm alright. A little tired. Nervous, to be honest."

Harry chuckles and briefly glances over at her, "Yeah? Nothing to be nervous about. We'll take it slow."

She shuffles in her seat and wedges her hands between her thighs. "Just don't want you to judge me, is all."

"I won't, but we did manage to forget to have the conversation on hard sexual limits. Do you mind listing yours?"

She nods. She's done this dance enough times to know the importance of discussing this subject matter, though she doubts there's much Harry could do that wouldn't be a turn-on for her.

"Um, any bathroom things, fisting, foot stuff... I'm fine with anal as long as we agree upon doing it beforehand. And if you're going to inflict physical pain on me, that's fine, but I'd prefer it if we built up to it — so, like, starting with spanking then the belt or a paddle."

"Sure, that makes perfect sense. I like to have conversations with my subs after we do a scene, so we can see how you feel about what we did," he pulls into a parking spot outside of her home, yanking the key from the ignition, "And, just so you know — no anal tonight and no spanking unless you deserve it."

He taps her cheek gently with his spare hand and she flushes as she unbuckles her seatbelt and gets out of the car. She follows him up to her front door and fishes her keys from the pocket of her jacket, unlocking it and stepping inside.

"Are y'alright with the traffic light system?" Harry questions as he sets her bag down on the slim table placed in the entryway.

"Yeah. My safe word is yarn, just FYI."

He wrinkles his eyebrows and pulls a few to-go containers out from his own bag. He opens his mouth to question her but she puts her hand up to stop him.

"I like to crochet. Don't make fun of me for it."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Harry murmurs, traipsing in the direction of her kitchen, "Go change out of your work clothes and put something pretty on for me, angel girl."

She's happy to comply, immediately feeling giddy at Harry telling her what to do from the get-go. When she gets upstairs and to her bedroom, she meanders over to the drawer she has for evenings like this. It's filled with lacy bodysuits and ruffly underwear, knee high socks, and pastel lingerie. Eager to rid her body of the jeans and sweater she wore all day, she opts for a sheer pink bralette and matching shorts that barely cover her bum. It's a sweet set that she personally likes, but she can't help the slight worry that Harry won't enjoy it as much as she does.

She's already meandering into her little headspace as she heads back downstairs. Harry's already plated up their dinner, complete with small servings of a side salad. He looks up as soon as he hears her soft padding across the length of the living room, his jaw falling slack at her appearance.

"Look at you," he coos, standing from the couch and closing the distance between them, "You look beautiful."

Y/N licks her lips, keeping her gaze low. She feels herself slipping, but for once, she's not scared of letting it happen.

"What's wrong, little one?" Harry asks gently, pressing his pointer finger and thumb to her chin, raising her head, "Are you feeling small already?"

She nods, her eyes round.

"Mm, that was quick. Just from daddy taking care of you and putting on these pretty little clothes, huh?"

Again, she nods.

"Alright. Let's get some food in your belly and then daddy can play with you a bit?"

This time, she shakes her head.

"No? No scene tonight?" Harry guesses through furrowed brows.

"Wanna play now, please."

"Ahhhh," he nods, understanding now that she's looking to skip out on dinner. "Gotta eat first, baby. Then we'll play."

Y/N pouts and he chuckles, wrapping his fingers around her wrist and tugging her towards the couch.

"C'mon. You can sit in my lap, hm?"

Still in the trousers he wore to work today, Harry settles back against the couch. He pulls her body into his, wrapping an arm around her waist to keep her steady.

"Is this good?" he asks softly, catching the shell of her ear.

"Yes." she peeps, nibbling on her lip.

"Alright baby, grab your food for me. Gotta eat at least half before we do anything."

Wringing her hands in her lap, Y/N doesn't move. Harry runs his fingertips along the length of her arm, nosing at her shoulder.

"Would you... daddy, I..."

Her voice trails off and his heart squeezes, eager to coax whatever she's trying to say out of her.

"Ask, honey. Use your words." he encourages tenderly.

She forces the words out, even if they feel humiliating despite her clouded head. "Can you feed me, please?"

Harry hums. He won't say it in the moment because he can tell the request was difficult to muster out, but his entire body feels infinitely softer. He leans forward to grab her serving, scooping some pasta on the fork.

"Y'gonna be good and eat for me now?"

She nods, "I will. Thank you, daddy."

He murmurs out a you're welcome, continuing the quiet pattern of feeding her, watching her chew and swallow, and going back for more. He doesn't let her get off without eating a few bites of salad, chuckling gently at her quiet protests.

"Still feeling good?" Harry asks, setting her empty bowl back on the coffee table.

"Mhm. Playtime now?"

He smiles and nods, carefully shimmying her body off his lap. "Why don't you go upstairs and wait for me? Daddy needs to eat too."

Y/N shakes her head and sinks to the carpet, pressing her chin to his knee. "Wanna be close, please."

"Yeah?" Harry chuckles, grabbing his own bowl of pasta, "Okay, baby, you can sit there but no touching. I know you're nearly gagging for my cock."

He watches as she shivers, nibbling on her bottom lip and shifting her position slightly so her cheek is smushed against his thigh. He laughs quietly and threads his fingers through her hair, quickly eating his own portion. He can't deny that he's just as excited to get started — he, too, has been thinking about this all day, deciding what positions he'd fold her body into, if he'd edge her or overstimulate her with orgasm upon orgasm. He didn't want to fully push her limits so quickly — he wanted to create a foundation of trust between each other, but he couldn't help the inevitable daydreams that clouded his day.

He finishes his food quickly, tapping her head playfully to alert her that he's done. She lifts her head and he takes in her moony gaze, his heart thumping quickly in his chest at how sweet she looks.

"Upstairs, bunny. Hands and knees, bum in the air, okay?" He plucks at her bottom lip as he grants her guidance, her eyes fluttering shut, relieved to finally be getting instructions. She scurries up to her bedroom, listening to Harry putter around as he places their dirty dishes in the sink. As he asks, she lets her knees meld into the foamy texture of the mattress. With her cheek pressed against the pillow, she folds her legs and maneuvers her lower half into his requested position.

It feels like an eternity before Y/N hears Harry enter the room, shutting the door behind him. He doesn't move to remove any of his clothes, instead kneeling onto the bed behind her.

"You've been doing so good for daddy, haven't you, baby?"

She knows it's a rhetorical question but she nods into the plushy pillow, wiggling her butt. He chuckles and allows his palms to roam the expanse of her skin, from the bottoms of her thighs up to the swell of her ass. She keens at the feel of his touch, already obsessed with the way his large hands fit over her body.

"We won't be doing too much tonight, but I'll be asking for your color consistently. I want you to use your safe word at any point you deem necessary. Is that clear?"

Y/N nods her head and hums, though her answer is slightly muffled by the fluff of the pillow.

He continues rubbing slow circles into the globes of her ass, intent on getting her to feel as relaxed as possible. He can tell she's excited — he is, too — but above anything, he wants her to be calm.

"I brought some toys and things for us to play with," Harry continues, her ears perking up, "Can you tell me your color for each of them? It's perfectly okay if it changes at some point. I'd just like an idea of what you want."

Y/N has never had someone care this much — every time a dominant brought a toy to a session, he'd thrown it in there haphazardly. A vibrator turned up way too high, terribly knitted rope and, the worst by far, a butt plug that wasn't lubed whatsoever.

So she's keening over the care Harry puts into his role, her heart beating rapidly in her chest as he shuffles off the bed for a moment and slings the tote bag onto the comforter. She still can't see a thing that he's doing, but as she floats into a comfortable cloudy mindset, she becomes more and more content with letting him make the rules.

"Okay, baby. Know you want daddy to make the decisions but I need you to be good for me and tell me what you're comfortable with," Harry murmurs, his fingertips dancing along the soft material of her waistband. He doesn't dip below or tug them down; it more so feels like a reminder of what can come if she's good. "Tying your wrists with silk ties. Color?"

Her pussy pulsates at the immediate vision of her arms tied high above her head, unable to touch herself or him. "Mm. Green."

"And what about your legs? Are you okay with rope, or would you prefer silk down there, too?"

"Either one, daddy. Green for both."

Harry hums, dipping down to slowly press light kisses down the length of her spine. She shivers at the sensation of his soft lips making contact with her skin for the first time. "A vibrator for your cute little pussy?"

"Green," she whimpers as his hands find purchase on her hips.

"Can daddy use his mouth on you?" he asks, the low vibrations of his voice making her core leak with arousal. "On your pussy?"

"Yes, yes," Y/N nearly pleads, bucking her hips up against his grasp. He tuts softly, and she can imagine the way his tongue flicks up against his two front bunny teeth, a look of disappointment painted over his face.

"Be patient, bunny. Don't need you squirming around just 'cos you wanna be touched."

She wants to groan out when he removes his hands from her skin but resists the urge, especially because he just told her to be patient (something Y/N has never been good at). She feels like it's a punishment in and of itself — he's barely done anything, but she can still feel the phantom kisses he placed down her back, and the skin stretching over her hips somehow feels lonely without his large palms pawing at it.

"On your back." Harry suddenly instructs. She's quick to obey, rolling over onto the plush duvet. He's fast in his movements and already kneeling above her, wrapping her wrists together and fastening a bow with pink silk. "Have you used these before? Do you know how to get out of them if you need to?"

Y/N nods. She knows that she can simply pull her wrists apart to quickly dissolve the knot, instantly freeing herself.

"Good girl. Daddy's gonna use rope for your legs, okay? Use your safe word or red if you need."

She has to admit, she's immediately impressed with Harry's apparent knowledge of bondage. She's been tied up many times before, but if she had to guess how many times someone's properly tied her hands, breasts, or legs with rope, it would likely only be once or twice.

A wet gasp leaves her mouth when she realizes Harry isn't just tying her ankles down to the bed post. Instead, he's pressing her calves into the backs of her thighs, the slight burn of the rope pressing into her flesh in the most delicious way. Although she's able to close her legs, the knots still remove most of her mobility, especially with her arms tucked above her head.

After finishing with her legs, Harry stands from the bed, still in his tee-shirt and trousers. He admires his work from above with a devilish smirk on his face, making Y/N's skin warm.

"Aren't you just a wet dream?" he mocks lightly, trailing his fingertips up and along her knee, "All tied up and absolutely useless, hm? Can't even get out of bed, can you?"

Y/N shakes her head, her bottom lip beginning to wobble at his teasing. Everything about the scene is already so intense, the build-up so delicious and consuming and— fuck, he hasn't even touched her yet.

"You just need your daddy to do everything for you, don't you?" Harry continues, kneeling into the mattress. His hands find the insides of her thighs and he pushes them apart, but his eyes don't even fall to her core, instead keeping them square on her wide-eyed gaze. "Helpless little baby, aren't you? Say it. Say your daddy's helpless baby."

"I'm— I'm daddy's helpless baby." she stammers out, her tongue heavy in her mouth.

"Are you gonna cry already, bunny?" he asks, his lips curling up into a wicked smirk, "Haven't even fuckin' done a thing and you're crying over being tied up. This is what you wanted, isn't it? Wanted daddy to make all your choices? Get all cock dumb and drunk on my cum?"

She nods futilely. She doesn't even realize the wetness pooling in the corners of her eyes, but she feels tears leaking steadily as soon as he mentions it.

"P-please daddy. Wanna be touched."

"Ah, so you do have some thoughts going on up there."

It seems like maybe that's all it takes for Harry to finally cease his mocking, digging into the tote bag at the side of the bed to produce a silicone vibrator. It's light blue and long, with a bulbous head at the tip that she assumes is for stimulating the spongey spot deep inside of her.

He finds a spot between her thighs, kneeling back on his ankles. His hands move up her inner thighs and to the creases of where her legs meet her core, the sheer fabric of her pale pink shorts immediately giving way to the wetness seeping from her hole. Harry nearly groans out at that, the sight going straight to his rock hard cock being strained by layers of clothing.

With a feather light touch, he thumbs over her clit through the material. She immediately jolts and he chuckles, moving his finger to gently stroke over her mound.

"Desperate little thing. Begging for daddy's touch."

"Yes," Y/N mewls at the top of the bed, wiggling against the rough rope, "I need it daddy, please, touch me, I've been so good—"

"Have you?" he asks, retrieving his hand, "All you've done is do as I've asked. If anything, I'm the one that should get rewarded, don't you think? Picked you up from work, fed you, tied you up... sounds like you're just being greedy to me."

"I'm not— t-that is being good, daddy, I didn't touch myself like you said a-and I've earned it, please."

She's fully crying now, tears leaking from her eyes in steadfast streams that it actually makes Harry feel bad. She hasn't even stopped her begging by the time he's pulling her shorts down to reveal her weeping pussy, a soft tsk leaving his mouth.

"Stop pleading, bunny, I'll give you want you're so desperate for," Harry says, grabbing the vibrator. He'd initially planned to work her with his fingers before pressing the toy against her clit and pushing it inside, but he hasn't even spread her open and he can already see the creamy arousal coating her lips. He thinks that if he teases her for much longer, she may just disintegrate into the bed.

So instead, because he's him and he's not a nice dom, he cranks it onto the medium setting and nudges it up against her clit. She instantly gasps out and jerks her hips up at the vibrations, a near-yell leaving her throat. He's aware that every person is different and it'll take him some time to learn her body, but with the way that her legs are already shaking as he uses more pressure to press the toy against the bundle of nerves, he thinks he he's getting somewhere.

"Are you gonna cum already?" Harry asks, his eyebrows knitted together as his eyes rake over her body. Her own eyes are scrunched up, her lips parted as small whimpers escape her throat, beads of sweat beginning to tumble down the slopes and curves of her skin — it's a sight, and he wishes to commit it to memory.

"Y-yes," she admits, nodding quickly, "Can I? Please?"

In response, he transfers the vibrator to his left hand and slowly pushes a finger into her pulsating hole.

"Go ahead."

He strokes once or twice against her g-spot with his finger before she's crumbling, her chest concave with haphazard breaths and her back arched. Moans readily fall from her lips, her pussy squeezing his finger so tight it nearly makes him cum on the spot.

As Y/N comes down from her peak, she recalls Harry saying that they weren't doing anything too crazy today, so she wonders if that's it. If so, she supposes that's fine, but she thinks she'll over him a blowie, offering to let him fuck her face while she's still tied up with silk and rope.

Instead, he cranks the vibrator up another setting and pushes a second finger inside, eliciting a broken groan from her chest.

"Again." Harry instructs, curling his fingers deep inside of her.

"O-oh," Y/N whimpers with shaking thighs and a dizzy head, "Daddy, I—"

"Again, bunny." he repeats, quickening the pace of his fingers. "I want another one. Now."

She quickly realizes that she doesn't know if she'll ever be able to reject Harry, because it only takes a few more pumps of his digits until she's squeezing him again. She's never had two orgasms so close together and she finds that this one is more intense, her muscles not even fully relaxed as they contract around him once again.

Her eyes are still closed when he removes his fingers and she thinks she hears a faint sucking noise, though she can't be sure. He lowers the vibrator setting but keeps it flush against her clit, despite the way her pussy is all but begging for a break.

"Color." Harry demands, his hand finding the backside of her knee.

"G-green," she hiccups through tear-stained cheeks, "Can keep going, daddy. Please."

He nods once, lowering so his stomach is pressed against the mattress now. He finally clicks the toy off and pushes it to the side, pausing his assault on her core before spreading her lips open with his fingers.

"Jesus, you're fuckin' pretty," he mutters, watching as her hole pulsates from two back-to-back orgasms. He spits, the saliva landing on her spread slit, making her gasp. "Who owns this pussy, bunny?"

Y/N's chest is heaving, but she still manages his honorific through wet, splotchy cheeks.

"Say it again." he commands before leaning forward to lick a fat stripe from her hole to her clit.

"It's yours, daddy." she whispers, her hands forming tight fists above her form.

"Good girl. That's what I want you to say when you cum next, okay?"

She doesn't have a chance to question yet another orgasms as his tongue makes contact with her pussy, moaning deeply. He's already obsessed with her taste and she's sure she's never had someone go down on her with this much vigor. She's gulping for air when his tongue darts in and out of her hole before licking up to her clit, lips wrapped around the nub as he sucks harshly, whines sounding from her mouth at the sensitivity.

Y/N has never understood the phrase "making out with her pussy" until this exact moment.

She doesn't even know if he's coming up for air much, but he's quick to figure out the pattern that makes her thighs shake. Messy sounds come from below as he slurps at the arousal leaking from her, using the width of his tongue to lick upwards to her clit over and over again.

"Daddy!" Y/N squeals, jerking her hips involuntarily, only to be pressing her core even closer to his mouth, "Please, I— I think—"

"Cum." he mutters into her, suckling at her clit with such fervor that Y/N genuinely thinks she may pass out.

She doesn't, though, but the intensity of her orgasm claws up her body rapidly, loud cries bubbling up her throat as she repeats clamors of, "it's yours daddy, your pussy, it's yours."

She feels him press chaste kisses against her mound as he gently begins to untie the ropes, slowly easing her legs out of their angled positions. Once they're free, he helps her stretch them outward, continuing his trail of kisses up her body until he's straddling her waist between his thighs.

"Color," Harry murmurs, reaching up to release his wrists from the silk. Her eyes are set on the bulge in his pants and he gently taps her cheek, "Bunny, tell me your color."

"Green, daddy. That looks like it hurts."

She uses her newly freed hands to point at his crotch and he chuckles, shaking his head.

"I'm fine, lovebug. Are you sure you're still green? Looking quite floaty."

"I am," Y/N lulls her head to the side, leaning it against her shoulder as she circles her wrists, "Wanna keep going though. 'm okay."

"Do you remember your safe word?" he questions, grabbing one of her wrists and pressing soft kisses into the skin.

"Mhm."

"What is it?"

"Yarn. 'cos I like to crochet."

Harry grins, relieved that she isn't too far off the deep end. He finds her to be especially adorable when she's in her little space, the moony gaze in her eyes removing any traces of stress from her day-to-day life.

"That's right, baby," he replies, pulling off his tee-shirt. "Daddy's gonna fuck you now. Is that alright?"

"Yes, please. But I don't think I wanna cum again."

He hums and nods, unbuckling his pants and kicking them off his legs, "That's perfectly fine, bunny. You got daddy so hard that I don't think it'll take much for me to cum."

Y/N giggles at that and makes grabby hands at him, making him chuckle. "Off, please," she says, pointing to the briefs straining his cock.

"You're such a polite little girl, did you know that?" Harry asks as he pushes his underwear down, settling in between her legs.

"Daddy's polite girl."

If his cock wasn't painfully hard right now, he might've laughed at her repeating his words. Unfortunately, an hour of overstimulating Y/N and watching her writhe beneath his grasp, all tied up with no choice but to just take it — he's shivering at the images of it, and he knows he needs to cum within the next five minutes or his dick will surely fall off.

"Gonna push in, okay?" Harry asks softly, rubbing circles into her hip, "Remember, tell me if you need to stop. Daddy will always listen to you."

Y/N nods her head, blinking away the leftover moisture in her eyes from her bout of cries earlier. She knows that if she didn't feel so comfortable with him, there's no way she would be this far in her little space right now, where she just wants him to take and take until he's satisfied. It's maybe happened three or four times in the past with a dom she had that was actually pretty good, but she knows now doesn't even begin to measure up with Harry.

When his cock pops through her tight walls, it's a bit of a stretch, but she's wet enough with arousal from three orgasms that it barely burns. Instead, she finds herself enjoying the way her core adapts to his shape — not to mention, he looks gorgeous above her with his eyes squeezed closed and his jaw dropped in a quiet groan.

When she doesn't safe word, Harry starts to move. He takes it slow, knowing that if he immediately starts to pump the full of his length inside of her, it may cause her more pain than pleasure, regardless of how small she's feeling. Her plushy lips part as moans begin to fall from them, hooking her ankles behind his form to bring him closer.

"You're so big, daddy," Y/N breathes out, a strangled whimper coming from Harry. "I love it, I love having you inside me."

"Yeah? My little girl wants her daddy's cock in her all the time?" He pushes through grit teeth, his jaw flexing as he begins to quicken his strokes, "Tell me, bunny. Tell me how much you want daddy."

"Oh—," she mewls as he begins to brush up against her g-spot, "I want it always daddy, I-I need it— oh, god— please daddy, please—"

"Sweet little girl sounds so pretty when she begs," He says as he takes one of his palms and presses it against her lower stomach, "This pretty pussy is mine now. You hear me? It's daddy's pussy."

"Yes, yes— fuck, it's yours daddy!"

Harry growls — actually growls — and shifts his hand down to smack against her clit, a throaty moan falling from Y/N's mouth.

"Dumb little babies don't curse," he snaps, slapping her clit once more, "Or do you wanna be punished? Not get any of daddy's cum?"

She shakes her head quickly, her eyes nearly rolling back at the sting of pain radiating through her core. "I want it, please!"

"Yeah? Beg for it, bunny."

She does — she pleads and begs and all but grovels on her hands and knees until Harry pulls out and pumps his cock over her, ropes of warm cum painting the skin of her stomach all the way up to her chest. There's so much (like an impressive amount, Y/N thinks), and she wants to scoop it up and taste it, but Harry grabs her wrist and gives her a look before she can.

"If you do that, you will have to call out of work tomorrow."

She giggles and nibbles on her bottom lip, the little headspace she's swimming in telling her to disobey him. He sighs and shakes his head, grabbing the tee-shirt he was wearing earlier and swiping it over her body, ridding her of his cum.

"You're a naughty little thing," he mumbles, tossing the tee-shirt to the floor — he makes a mental note to throw her bedding and everything in the wash once she's out of her little space. "C'mon baby, up. Gonna take a bath now."

"With you, right?" Y/N mumbles with heavy eyes. He nods as he leans down to scoop her up in his arms, guiding them to the bathroom. He sits her on the toilet and she frowns, making him roll his eyes.

"You don't want a UTI. This isn't a sex thing, just pee while I run you a bath."

She does but only because he tells her to, and she knows she'll feel embarrassed about this tomorrow, but she's okay with it right now. He busies himself with turning the water and making sure it's warm before plugging the drain.

"I brought some bubble bath and epsom salts with me but it's in my bag. Can I leave you while I go get those?"

Again, Y/N nods wordlessly and he leans down to press a kiss to her hair. She flushed and wipes while he's gone, and he returns while she's washing her hands.

Harry knows it feels oddly domestic of them to be naked and prepping to take a bath together after an intense scene, especially since this is the first time they've done this. In the back of his mind, he wonders if they should've talked through the implications of them beginning this type of relationship — a ruined friendship being one of them — and he knows it was selfish of him to forgo that conversation altogether.

He ignores his worries and instead helps her into the bubble bath once it's ready, tucking his body in behind hers as soon as she's situated. It's silent between them for the first time in hours as he wraps his arms around her shoulders, lightly massaging her shoulders.

"How are you feeling?" He finally asks after a few moments of quiet.

"Tired," she mumbles, laying back against his broad chest. He can't tell if she's still floaty by her one-word response so he continues rubbing her back, allowing her to sink into the warmth of the bath.

They don’t speak again after that, not until the water goes cold and Y/N almost falls asleep in the comfort of his arms. In the meantime, he makes sure to gently swirl a clean washcloth over her skin, using his favorite lavender scented body wash, and wash her knotty hair. All the while he whispers how special she is, how she’ll never be too much, but especially not to him. He decides it’s okay if she doesn’t hear him because she’s too out of it, but hopes that his words at least seep into her subconscious so she believes the same.

#I will proof read this when I’m not so burnt out !#writing #harry styles #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #Harry styles angst #harry styles x you #Harry styles au #harry styles oneshot #one direction

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pigfacedbitch · 8 months

Text

Falling In Love With Leo Valdez

summary : title speaks for itself. reader is a daughter of Poseidon. timeline is from the lost hero to mark of Athena.

word count : 0.7k

type : imagines

pairing/s involved : Leo Valdez x Reader, Brother! Percy Jackson x Reader

warning/s : dealing with a loved one's disappearance, depression, and coping

here is my masterlist!

Percy is the amazing older brother anyone could ever ask for. He made sure that you were thoroughly trained and well-oriented on what it means to be a demigod.

The only downside? He is extremely protective, especially when someone is romantically interested in you.

"PERCY!" You see the camper who flirted with you earlier got knocked off of his canoe and almost drowned in the lake.

"What? It wasn't me."

But his face says otherwise. He can be insufferable.

You love him dearly anyway.

So when he vanished that summer, you are a mess. Chiron had to monitor your every move because you might try to find Percy on your own.

Annabeth told you she received a word of where he is and assured you that everything will be okay. Instead she brought back three strangers with her.

One particularly caught your attention with his elf-like features and scrawny build. You found him... cute.

As expected, Leo flirted with you right away. How could he not? You are hot! 😍

"Hey there, cutie. Are you a goddess?"

"No. My name is (Y/N)."

"Leo Valdez but you can call me anything you want-"

"How about dead?" Annabeth cuts him off, giving him an icy glare. That was enough to shut him up.

Leo uses all of his time to be with you. He is so in love, it's almost sickening.

At first, it's just harmless flirting.

Then he notices the little things— you don't eat that much, easily space out in conversations, lethargic, and has always a forlorn look on your beautiful face.

You, on the other hand, have repressed your emotions to look 'strong'. Annabeth tries to be there for you but she is suffering too.

That's why you bawled your eyes out when Leo asks you about Percy one night.

After that, he swears to you that he will be there to help you cope and look for your brother as well.

He lessens the flirting, shifting to jokes and funny stories that make you laugh.

Disobeying the rules in the dining pavilion, he eats his meals with you on the Cabin 3 table.

You're the first person he brings in Bunker 9, letting you use the place for your own leisure. You often nap there.

Despite the instant attraction, trust gradually grows between you and Leo.

You weren't some silly crush anymore but someone Leo can confide in, and he to you.

Those who observe see that you are becoming lively again. Your smile is no longer forced, you're now eating well, and looking forward to training and games.

The moment you realize Leo wasn't just a friend was because of some jerks who think you were out of his league.

"Come on, man. She wouldn't date you."

You quickly walked up to them and kissed him in front of everyone.

To say Leo is surprised is an understatement. He almost blew up right then and there. That was his first kiss.

You had to pull him to your cabin to confess properly. Let's just say Leo had more than his first kiss that night. 👀

You two aren't officially dating yet, probably because of the war that's about to come.

However, you act like you do— displaying affections, acts of service, and most importantly, keeping each other alive.

There were no need to exchange I love yous, actions were more than enough. Though, Leo loves saying that to you whenever he can.

Annabeth knows Percy will likely kill Leo but if he makes you happy then why not?

Flashforward to Camp Jupiter, you walk to Reyna with Jason and the others. By the distance, you see Percy running towards you with his hands reaching out.

He engulfs you in a hug that you're sure will break your ribs.

"How come my little sister got smaller?"

"Shut up."

You both feel the heavy weight of worry on your shoulders disappear, Percy tigtening his hug on you if that was possible.

Even with the danger looming over all of your heads, you felt safe and content in Percy's arms. Everything seems perfect.

Now, there's only one problem...

How can you tell Percy that you're in love with Leo without the chances of drowning him to death?

#percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #heroes of olympus #heroes of olympus x reader #heroes of olympus headcanons #heroes of olympus imagine #leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x reader headcanons #leo valdez x reader imagine #sibling! reader #hoo imagines #hoo headcanons #riordanverse

1K notes · View notes

savnofilter · 10 months

Text

Text Me Back | Katsuki Bakugo

Pro Hero!Katsuki Bakugo x [FEM]Reader

CONTENT WARNING(S): sexual content, sexting, sending nudes, crude jokes, mention of myspace™, p.o.v switches, established relationship.

WORD COUNT: 4k words [15 mins].

READ MORE: masterlist + [student masterlist].

A/N: gosh i wish i couldve done more with this but... i'll figure it out later. may revamp or do a part 2 but it depends on how motivated. anyways, enjoy. 🥹 also i just realized that reader did nothing the whole day LMAOOOO so ignore that pls omg. thank you, anon!

As spring rolled around, the air had a certain chill to it.

It was a crisp scent with sharp edges, the smell of growing plants clinging onto the molecules within the vicinity. As a result of the coolness in your room, you probably should turn on the heater in your apartment. Usually, you wouldn't have to worry about doing it yourself, but due to maintenance delaying another day later to fix the issue, you now find yourself in an internal battle to get up out of your bed for your comfort.

Of course, you didn't hate the spring atmosphere. You liked it. The nostalgic and tender feel it gave your body and mind gave a fake sense of comfort that you desired. But you would desperately love it more if you could bask in such ideals while in the comfort of your lukewarm sheets, temperature heightened by the air of the room.

You groan in disdain at the fact you had to get out of your bed. You begrudgingly roll onto your side and feel around for your phone on your nightstand. Once finding your device you click the button on the side to partially unlock it to see what you have missed from being asleep. Of course, regular things like Twitter notifications were present, Snapchat, Instagram, MySpace, etc… until a message stuck out the most amid your roll call.

Bakugo 🤭💕

Light schedule today, museum date?

I know you will wake up late, so I'll decide for you. Pick-up is at 7 p.m.

[✓] Sent 8:42 A.M.

You immediately perk up at the notification, a goofy smile spreading onto your lips.

Bakugo has been your boyfriend for about three years now. You had originally met years prior when you both were in school. Him being an intern for superhero-ing and you were an intern for hands-on training within the superhero management world. You were a little shit and he was an even more of a little shit… and that's what made you two click. Even with his calloused way of showing his emotions, he had still been pretty evident about his feelings towards you when you two were merely friends. In the same way, you two could work and piss each other off to no end, there was a great sense of duality showcased by empathy, love, and compassion toward each other. When you needed someone or something, you could always count on your boyfriend, Katsuki.

You chewed the inside of your lip as your brain racked your head at the things you needed to do today. Today was Friday so you were sure you wouldn't have anything on your schedule. But because you tended to let things slip your head, you still had to double-check to make sure. You light up once again as you realize today was only a busy day for yourself—chores, errands, and minimum job-related things you could finish at home. Nothing dire; just adulting.

You

and what if I said no????

how'd y'know i'd wake up late lol

[✓] 13:01 P.M.

After quickly adjusting your noise settings from silent to vibrate, you bring your phone back down onto the nightstand and properly sit up to avoid your back from aching at an uncomfortable angle. You stretch in delight, arms brought over your head and your eyes shut exerting all of the drowsiness within you. You coil back into yourself once the cold air you had forgotten about hits your skin as a rude reminder. You glare at the thermostat before swiftly throwing your covers off and trudge your way to the small dial and fix the dilemma yourself.

While fiddling with the switch, you hear your buzz behind you. Your brows scrunch in frustration as you can feel yourself start to get agitated at how it's acting, finally getting the stupid little compartment to work before walking off. You nearly trip on your way back to bed in an effort to get back to the warmth of your bed.

Bakugo 🤭💕

You always wake up in the evening, dumbass.

& you have a free schedule today.

[✓] Sent 13:08 P.M.

You scoff.

Your chat bubbles float up on the screen on his end as you try to think of something more annoying to combat him with. You fall short.

You

Damn.

[✓] Sent 13:11 P.M.

You think to yourself before pausing and sending another text.

You

shouldn't you be at work? why are you texting me

a kid is probably drowning rn bc Lord Explosion Murder Dynamight is sexting his girlfriend instead of doing his job.

did you change your name to your hero name AGAIN???

[✓] Sent 13:15 P.M.

If loving this kind of banter was something that you enjoyed, may the devil take you away. You couldn't help the grin mischievously as you waited for his correspondence. You were practically on the edge of your bed waiting for his reply.

A few minutes go by and he hasn't replied. There's a pang of hurt following your spiraling thoughts. Who cared if a kid was really drowning-

Bakugo 🤭💕

↳{replied to your text: shouldn't you be at work? why are you texting me}

Is work in the room with us?

[✓] Sent 13:25 P.M.

You're almost quick to reply before seeing his speech bubbles pop up again, eyes watching in interest. You can't help but feel nervicited seeing it disappear and reappear, proud to have stunned him. What you didn't know is what he was fixing himself to say.

Bakugo 🤭💕

↳{replied and highlighted: … Dynamight is SEXTING HIS GIRLFRIEND instead of doing his job.}

No pic, no proof

[✓] Sent 13:27 P.M.

You squint at your phone and pause. Did he just quote the way you talk AND send you a musty and memefied reply all in one go? You huff at his bravery, rolling your eyes but feeling a deep blush creep up on your cheeks. Your phone vibrates.

Bakugo 🤭💕

Don't tell me you folded that fast, babe.

[✓] Sent 13:31 P.M.

Oh, but you did. You weren't expecting him to fire back at you like this. Often when you made an innuendo of some sort he'd whine and brush it off as if he hasn't beaten your doonies down multiple times—sometimes all in one night. But you refused to let him win this. You need to think fast.

Again, the cool air caresses your exposed hand, the stroke of the uncomfortable chill making you hiss. You position yourself on your back where you can safely cover the backs of your hands as you held your phone. A few more minutes had passed than you had noticed, your screen growing dim as you were forced to look at your newly awakened and chilled state.

That's when it hit you.

No pic, no proof, right?

As you shiver feeling a stroke of air pass over again, a sign that the temperature in the room is actively changing, you look down at your chest. In your defense, they looked at you first. Your nipples are profoundly erect and poking at your shirt begging for attention. You purse your lips before looking back at your screen, contemplating your next moves. Sucking in a small breath you quickly awaken your phone and swipe your screen over to take a photo of yourself.

You angle the electronic to show your chest, your other hand dragging up some of your shirt to show little skin of your stomach. Your nipples were still very much the prominent part of the image. After realistically struggling a bit, you snap the picture and quickly hum in surprise at how good it is. If you were in any other state than your current one, you would've retaken it but you couldn't feel yourself to care knowing he's an ass anyway.

You decide to say something after the image as you bring up the chat and send in the picture.

You

(IMAGE)

is this proof?

[✓] Sent 13:40 P.M.

After setting your phone down and interlocking your fingers together, you stare up at the sky: now that you think about it, what possessed you to send such a scandalous picture all of a sudden? The hormone monster? When was the last time you sent him a proper nude? You rub your face and groan as you now really think about it.

No matter how many times you have sent spicy images, it was the mock post nut clarity after sending it off. Debating if the pic was good enough or hoping that it somehow didn't change sender at the last second. The vulnerable feeling starts to claw its way into your body… and yet you refuse to let it get to you. Just like how everything with Bakugo is, all the nervous feelings always filled you with excitement. You couldn't wait to see his response because you knew damn well he was your munch.

You hear your phone buzz once before turning your head to see it fade to black again. Deciding to not look at it straight away, you get up for the second time today. Fortunately, your room was starting to warm up which meant it was the perfect time to start your day (yes, nearing the second hour of the evening). Your phone buzzes again and you choose to ignore it.

Running through your routine is clockwork. Use the bathroom, brush your teeth, shower, facial, and the last part you hadn't reached yet was to get dressed. You had honestly forgotten about teasing your long-term boyfriend as you freshened up for the day. Typically, you did this as a way to relieve stress and rejuvenate yourself. You hum as you lotion up yourself, welcoming back the feelings of giddiness back to your body. There was no need to rush this; it was almost as though the teasing was for your enjoyment more than his. Again you wrap yourself in your robe and finally sit on your bed to go on your phone. His message reads:

Bakugo 🤭💕

↳Loved your message.

Fuck.

Is this how we're playing today?

[✓] Sent 13:41 P.M.

You bite the inside of your lip before a smirk pulls at the corners of your mouth as you type up a reply.

You

you don't want more? okay… ;( 💔

[✓] Sent 14:39 P.M.

He immediately opens your message and his speech bubbles become afloat.

Bakugo 🤭💕

You know damn well that's not what I meant, brat.

Another form of confirmation would be suitable.

[✓] Sent 14:39 P.M.

There's a pause before he sends his next text.

Bakugo 🤭💕

Please.

[✓] Sent 14:39 P.M.

You

I guess you can since you asked nicely…

[✓] Sent 14:41

He was a good boy you had to admit. When he wanted you, he certainly knew how to play the rules until he could be on top. You admired that about him.

You slightly turn your head to the mirror of your bed. You were currently out of sight in the reflection but had an idea of how you could use it. You scooch up to the edge of your bed, sitting with your legs on each side of the corner closest to the body mirror. Before you could even think about sending off a photo you pull your hair back and neaten it up whether it was with a bonnet or messy bun. Regardless you knew he wouldn't give a fuck but this surge in arousal made you want to look sexy in your most natural state. Skin glowing and thriving, you felt like a goddess.

Blessed that the room is warm enough for you to be naked, you partially undress; eyes watch your irresistible figure come to reveal itself. Of course, even with how much you loved yourself, you couldn't show all of yourself just yet. You pull your robe open enough to expose your chest, a small huff of discontent leaving as the air hits your naked skin again. A hum leaves your chest as you admire yourself a bit more, before positioning the camera in a way to show off your chest. You knew this would drive him insane. After a few awkward angles and shots, you deemed your favorite one and opened back up the messages app once again.

You waste no time uploading the pictures but grow a bit hesitant as you can’t help but feel nervous. You’d think after doing this with a trusted partner it’d be a breeze at this stage. You fidget on the edge of the bed as you type up, delete, then retype, decide to delete and then the process continues. ‘Why was this so hard?? Just send the damn pic!’ You sigh and type up your final draft, ready to send the first proper nude for the evening.

With a final decision, you decide to go with something simple.

You

how’s this?

(IMAGE)

[✓] Sent 14:57

You immediately close out the app once you send it off and fall back onto your bed. There’s a giddy smile on your face as you could only imagine what his reaction would be to see the photo. That was the whole exciting thing about this: the teasing that transpires and the adrenaline rush you receive from it. You don’t bother to check if he’s seen it yet as you think it would be best to let your heart rest. Luckily, it’s not long before you need to wait as your phone buzzes beside you.

After a few moments of waiting you sit up on your side to look at the message, your eyes immediately going for Bakugo’s text. You freeze upon seeing two messages in the same format as yours, a regular text followed by a photo to compliment the exchange. You raise your eyebrows as you prop yourself up on your hand now, tapping his notification and swiping up to look at what he has sent you.

You softly gasp as you open the image, something you were not expecting but will gladly accept. “More than perfect.” You read aloud and scrolled further down to look at the whole image. You grin upon seeing a picture of him palming his hard-on through his pants. It appeared by his scenery and clothing that he truly wasn’t out on patrol today, instead probably filming content to build his likability with his fanbase. Not only that, he was in a dressing room, by himself. He had more than enough time to do what he pleases.

Bakugo was more than ready to up the ante and your slow correspondence was killing him. He knew that this was a frequent way that you liked to tease and play dirty with him. He had been up since 5 a.m. and he was basically waiting impatiently for you to wake up.

It had been about a week or so since you two have seen each other and he was missing you badly. Your dumb jokes, your antics, the “arguments” and especially your touch. Apparently, the pre-planned date for tonight was the type of outing you needed as well. Bakugo sucks his teeth as he starts to feel a blush arise on his cheeks as he can’t help but think about you. And you weren’t making it better with how willing you are to toy with him.

Now it was the blonde-haired male's turn to be nervous awaiting your reply. He watched in expectancy to see your response, sitting up from his slouched position on the couch in his dressing room to read your reply.

#1 Brat

not too bad yourself, honey~

[✓] Sent 15:21

Katsuki is quick to start typing again, pausing when he sees your chat bubbles pop up on his phone.

#1 Brat

mind sending another one more… revealing?

(IMAGE)

[✓] Sent 15:23

He chuckles at your proposition. The laugh subsides as he takes in the new image, revealing more of your body in your lying down position practically mimicking the first photo you had sent for the day. The robe artfully covers but also shows your body and he can’t but groan as he longs to touch you. Your breasts, legs, and tummy are so fucking attractive to him. The fact that you have a pretty face tops it all off makes him feel as though he’s won the jackpot being in love with you. But there was one part that he was longing to see as well, the piece of heaven between your legs. The blonde-haired hero grunts as he starts to type up his message.

Bakugo 🤭💕

I could ask the same from you, beautiful.

[✓] Sent 15:26

You

ah-ah, you first!

[✓] Sent 15:27

“This…” Katsuki mumbles to himself but doesn’t stop from unbuckling his pants anyways. With how hard his length appeared in the earlier photo, it is no surprise at how confined it was pressing against his underwear. With a simple tug, he releases his cock from his briefs, a soft groan leaving his lips as he strokes his cock. The warmth of his hand certainly did not compare to yours at all.

He imagines your hot hands caressing every bit of his skin, your warm mouth that’s skilled with playing with his sweet spots, your plush thighs that wrap around his waist or squish his face. The way he could watch how your chest jiggle with each thrust, the way that your pussy never fails to take him in like it was made for him. Everything about you was cursing him and he needed you badly.

Bakugo tilts his head back against the top of the couch as he starts to speed up his thrusts, now fully getting into the thought of what he’d do to you if you were right next to him right now. How he could easily pick you up and pin you onto the couch as he pounds into you like no tomorrow, not giving a fuck if your moans were too loud and anyone passing by could hear the lewd noises coming from within the room. The way he could watch your face contort into the most erotic expressions all because of him, his touch, his mouth, and his dick most importantly. The moment his hips buck to meet his own stroking hand makes him realize he had distracted himself from his main task.

He fumbles around for his phone before setting it up the way you like the most when watching his videos. The angle is perfectly angled to showcase his impressive length, not tew much balls but enough to show the goodies. He made sure to be vocal as well, letting the camera show his stroking and his thumb rubbing his tip every so often to increase the pleasure. A few times you could hear his soft grunts of your name or an exploitive to release the building-up tension from his masturbation session.

He breathes out as he speeds up his strokes. It seems as though with his jerking that he's getting closer and closer to his climax, the only thing clouding his mind is only you. He softly pants and starts to collect perspiration of sweat on his forehead as he works up to his orgasm. He clenches his jaw as he finally finishes and continues to stroke, showing how much cum he can milk from himself. He hums in mere satisfaction and ends the video to clean up. Unfortunately, that in itself did not rid himself of the boner; a new one was already starting to grow once again.

When he processes the video through the messaging app, there is no cheeky remark or commentary. He is officially worked up and cannot wait any longer.

Bzzz Bzzz

Your eyes widen as you finally get your reply back. You tilt your head in curiosity and feel your heart skip a beat. It is a video. Katsuki sent a fucking video. You bite your lower lip and open the message. There was no other text to accompany it but you already knew what you were in for.

Your breath hitches as the video is straight to the point. You watched his perfectly manicured and clean nails skillfully play with his cock, his large hand almost struggling to wrap around his own length. You hear a small moan and you quickly raise the volume, your heart skipping a beat as you realize that you can hear the erotic noises come from him.

Your hand immediately shoots down to untie your robe, slick already starting to increase and your clit pulsing. You shamelessly moan as your deft fingers stroke at your vulva, your mouth in the shape of an, “o” as you use your fluid to play with your bundle of nerves.

“Shit!” You close your eyes with the image of him stroking his cock deeply ingrained in your mind. The noises he made were enough for you to get off on your own. Your middle finger rubs heavy circles into your clit while your other hand busies itself playing with your nipple, the feeling making you lightly shiver. The sounds of his heavy breathing and the silkiness of his hand rubbing his shaft were driving you crazy, and soon enough your petting wasn’t doing the job. You opt for fingering yourself instead, huffing out a whimper as your fingers barely fill your cunt but make up for it by finding your g-spot at the roof of your pussy.

You weakly open your eyes to watch the screen, your breath growing short and light as you meet your fingering with Katsuki’s stroking hand. Another buzz from your phone makes you sit up a little. Your confused and dazed attention span manages to catch the notification that rolls at the top of the screen.

Bakugo 🤭💕 — 15:45

You better not be finishing yourself off without . . .

You groan in annoyance as you remember why you were even diddling yourself in the first place. You slow your strokes down to properly set up your phone, hastily trying to find a proper angle that shows off your body in its entirety (which wasn’t that hard to do as you were in your bed). You spread your legs for the camera and look into the front camera lens as you insert both fingers into your cunt once again. You tilt your head to the side as you look down at your fingers and work a third finger into yourself.

You moan out his name as you work your right hand's fingers into you, building up to the same pace that you had before with the extra digit inside. “Need you so bad, baby--” You groan, looking back up at the screen. Your left-hand comes up to play with your tits again, the robe that still adorned you slipping off your shoulder as you got closer to your climax.

You whimper, finishing off with your fingers, your eyes looking at your cunt taking in your fingers before glancing back at the camera in lust. You repeated, “fuck” as if in a mantra, your eyes closing and your hips bucking to ride yourself to release. You smile as you slowly take out your fingers, your slick sticking to your fingers and your cunt glistening in juices. Your cunt was puffy and warm with arousal pumping through it and it was clear that you wanted him as bad as he wanted you. You scoot a bit closer to show off your sticky fingers, spreading them for him. You hit stop recording with your clean hand after your finished, wasting no time uploading it into the messenger app.

You

of course not, only for you~

(VIDEO)

[✓] Sent 15:55

As soon as you send it in, a text from him follows. You hop up from your bed as you read, heading back to your bathroom to clean yourself up even though the inevitable would have you in the same state as before.

Bakugo 🤭💕

000-0000 Tokyo-to

Be here in 10 minutes.

[✓] Sent 15:56

Hopefully, your newly scheduled meeting won’t delay his filming.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #pro hero!bakugo katsuki x reader #pro hero!bakugo x reader #bnha oneshots #bnha imagines #bnha scenarios #mha oneshots #mha imagines #mha scenarios #n/sfw #sav's saucin'

743 notes · View notes

emilicious0 · 2 months

Text

lucifer x gn!reader who is fascinated with his wings!

pt.1

a/n: it took me some time to make it, sorry! but anyway if you want more headcanons in this Au (can you call it an au?) just ask!

as you followed charlie to the first floor, your mind raced with thoughts of the moment on the balcony. the touch of lucifer's wings, the shared gaze, the unspoken connection—all of it left you feeling exhilarated yet uncertain.

when all three of you arrived on the first floor, charlie started to explain the recent suspicions about heaven, and you tried your best to listen. lucifer hovered nearby, his usual composed demeanor slightly shaken.

as the discussion progressed, you found yourself slipping into your role as a trusted advisor. despite the swirling emotions within you, you focused on the problem, trying to calm charlie down and maybe escape thinking of some events that happened earlier. but even with the occupational task, you couldn't help but steal glances at the fallen angel, who just so happened to do the same thing.

lucifer suddenly sees you in a new light... no, not a new light, but he finally realizes how he actually sees you. the soft and warm feeling he felt every time you were around and that strong need to protect you—it's all coming together now.

throughout the meeting, the man couldn't tear his gaze off of you, his expression filled with newfound warmth. you couldn't help but notice, your heart fluttering, but immediately stopping yourself to focus on charlie and not letting your hopes up.

he IS lucifer. the king of hell. him with you? that's not possible; you're imagining things... but the thought of it is so sweet.

"focus for hell's sake."

after the meeting concluded and charlie excused herself to meet with vaggie, you and lucifer found yourselves alone in the living room. the atmosphere crackled with unspoken words, tension mounting between you.

you felt like your mouth was glued shut, and because of the thick knot of emotions in your throat, you couldn't say anything. so, you found yourself slowly making your way to the stairs.

"wait!" lucifer grabbed your shoulder and turned you around. "I'm sorry."

"sorry?" you asked, focusing on his red eyes. "for what?"

"I made you uncomfortable..? didn't I?" the man sounded like a beaten dog, and you rushed to hug him.

"oh no, no, no, no! you didn't do anything. It's me, I'm the problem! you know, your wings, I saw them, and panicked and everything, and..." you stopped and released the breath you didn't know you were holding. "I don't know how I feel about you anymore."

lucifer's eyes softened, his hand reaching out for your cheek.

"interesting thing is... I think now I know how I feel about you now," he says.

"you do?" you ask, a blush creeping onto your cheeks.

"yes."

a kiss on your lips.

so faint and fast you could've imagined it, but it was real.

with even more anticipation, you kissed the man in front of you, now longer, enjoying the moment together.

when you both stop to breathe, you can see a hint of relief on his red face.

"I... love you."

a rush of emotions flooded through you—joy, relief, love. you gently took his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers with his.

"I love you too."

with that, you kissed again, but this time, his wings appeared, hiding both of you from others' eyes.

#hazbin lucifer #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer morningstar x reader

335 notes · View notes

bonny-kookoo · 6 months

Text

Jungkook

𝐒𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲 | Part 11

It's time to go.

Tags/Warnings: Game Designer!Jungkook, Brat Tamer!Jungkook, kinda himbo!Jungkook, Non Idol AU, established relationship, some Angst, he's trying ok[Tags will be different for every part!]

Length: 1k Words

There is no taglist for this fic.

Callob with @euphoricfilter ! 💜

-> Masterlist

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

He’s checking your bags again. He’s done that twice now, and he knows that he’s going to need you to look through them at least once yourself because he just doesn’t trust himself to not forget anything.

But it’s getting a bit.. Urgent.

He really doesn’t want to text you like the lost dog he is right now to tell you to come home right now- but he kind of has to, if you’re not back in the next half an hour or so. Your flights are booked and he’s sure that you’ll have to at least go pee before leaving because he remembers that last time you both took a plane somewhere, you’d complained the entire time saying that the toilets in an airplane terrified you too much to use them.

You deserve to spend time with the girls, and he knows it’s his own fault for telling you so short notice about the trip. But right now, he needs to make a decision.

Your phone rings twice before you pick up, busy mall heard as background noise while his name falls from your lips much clearer for him to hear. "Hey- I.. I know it's only been like, what.. three hours? But uhm, I kind of have a flight booked for us that's leaving in two and-"

"Jungkook fuck, I'm so sorry!" You gasp out, clearly surprised over the time as well. "I didn't even tell them yet.." you say a bit quieter now, and he falls quiet for a moment before he sits on the edge of the bed between the bags.

He should just cancel it at this point. It's his own fault for not thinking clearly anyways, and it's obvious that you're not fond of telling the girls you're not going to accompany them on their weekend trip. He shouldn't take that away from you, and now anything he says could be guilt-tripping you into canceling just because he planned something instead. He wants you to have fun too- this is all for you, after all.

"Jungkook?" You ask, and he laughs a bit uneasy.

"Ah no it's fine, just.. don't come back too late, okay? Or come back late, I don't know.. but let me drive you home then, okay? Or I'll worry-" He rants, getting emotional again as he swallows hard.

Fuck. The stress he's put himself through really took a toll on him to make him so mentally weak right now.

"No, I'll tell them. You've worked top hard for this." You deny, before you speak again. "I'll come home asap. Can you pack my bag already?" You wonder, and he bites his lip. "Jungkook. I really wanna go on this trip with you, promise. I just got lost in time." You urge, well aware that he must be contemplating right now to be so quiet. "Okay?"

"...I already packed our things. Just.. wanted to have you look through it to make sure I didn't forget anything." Comes his voice through the speaker of your phone.

"Okay, nice, I'll do that when I'm home!" You chirp, unbeknownst to him already waving a cab towards you. Expensive, yeah- but the fastest way home nonetheless. "Hey kook?" You ask, and he hums a reply. "I love you." You say, and he relaxes at that, unable to prevent himself from smiling.

"I love you too."

While you're on your way home he checks his own bag one last time, present for you safely tucked away between his clothes and toiletries, before he zips it all shut, ready to go. He remembers the first trip you've ever been on together, years back- a cheap summer vacation your father had partially funded, where you had your first fight. It was horrible, nasty, really- but you'd overcome it, and in a way, you came home from that trip stronger than ever. In fact, you finally moved into this shared apartment together after that- one of the best decisions ever made, in his humble opinion.

You're hurrying through the front door, barely kicking off your shoes as you dash into the bedroom where your bag is still open and ready to be inspected. You kiss him hello on the cheek once before you search through it, breath slowly calming down a bit as you raise an eyebrow at the choice of underwear he'd packed. "What?" Is his sheepish answer. "They look great on you."

"Kook we both know you're just gonna rip them!" You whine, already dreading the rough actions the poor lace will have to endure if you do take them with you.

"Not if you can get rid of them fast enough." He wiggles his brows suggestively, while you roll your eyes. "Come on, last time you said it was hot when I ripped your-"

"Okay yeah, fine!" You complain, throwing them back into the bag before zipping it up. "Do you know where my passport is?" You wonder, and he smiles, holding both of yours up. "Damn, you really are prepared. Who are you and what have you done to my boyfriend?" You frown, crossing your arms while he leans forward to peck your lips.

"I'm still me." He purrs, before he takes the chance to slap your butt. "Now go pee, or you'll have to use the scary plane toilet!" He teases.

"They ARE scary!" You whine. "Imagine if you flushed and it sucked out your balls or something! I can't believe you're terrified of microwaves but not of something potentially snatching your jewels-!" You rant in complaint while rushing into the bathroom to do just as he said, well aware that he's right. It's just that you at least need to prove some sort of point here, so his ego doesn't inflate too much.

And as you both rush into the car to make your way to the airport, it's clear that he's both excited, and nervous. About what, you're not sure, but you also don't question it much further.

Because Jungkook's surprises tend to be those things you can't really foresee anyways, no matter how hard you try.

And you wonder what he's got hidden in his sleeve this time.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook imagines

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marksbear · 11 months

Note

Could I request a Vance Hopper x Male reader (boyfriends)? Plays a few months after Vance got kidnapped. The reader gets kidnapped too (and gives the grabber a really hard time because he doesn’t back down) and Vance ghost uses the chance to properly say goodbye to his boyfriend and helps him to get out of there. A lot of angst and heartbreak (the readers usually a tough guy too and doesn’t show much emotion but completely breaks down in the basement after Vance called him the first time) the grabber could show him the spot where he killed Vance to mock him idk make it hurt 💔💔💔I hope you have a great day and thank you!! <3

Sorry this took a while I took a lil break! But I really hope you enjoy this and that I wrote everything you asked for!

And I write this in a way so you won’t get much spoilers.

Warning:Angst! Mentions a toxic home, evil stepdad, kidnapping,trauma, grieving, sad and emotionless reader, blood, stabbing, survivor guilt.

GHOST VANCE HOPPER X MALE READER.

Y/n was inside his room laying on the floor as the TV played. Y/n's eyes bore into the screen not noticing a muffled shout from downstairs. The TV screen played Y/n favorite show ever.

Sadly it was hard for Y/n to even pay attention to the show. Y/n kept glancing around his room looking at the pictures hanging around of his boyfriend.

Every time Y/n caught himself looking at the pictures he’ll whip his head around as his mind runs wild about his boyfriends disappearance.

“Vance… We we’re supposed to runaway with each other. Get out of this stupid town together.”

Y/n thought to himself knowing deep down inside that Vance would never leave him on purpose. Y/n knew it was a deeper meaning as to why his boyfriend disappeared. But sadly it’s been months and most people stopped caring for the missing teen. It wasn’t like many people was searching for Vance anyway.

The door swings open hitting the wall on impact.

“Y/n! Your mom has been calling your name for the past three minutes! Go down there before she starts getting on my ass!” Y/n’s step dad says staring at Y/n.

“There’s something wrong kid? All the sudden you can’t hear?” His step dad says with a mug on his face.

Y/n rolls his eyes and stands up from the floor walking up to his TV turning it off. “And good lord take your boyfriends pictures off the wall son he left you.” Once those words came out of his mouth Y/n shoved his stepdad out of his room before slamming the door shut.

“You brat!”

His stepfather calls out slamming his hand on the door before walking away.

After making sure his stepdad was completely away Y/n opens his door walking downstairs to see what his mother needs.

When Y/n made it to the bottom of the staircase his mom was already waiting for him.

“Glad to see your dad listens to me.”

“He’s not my dad… And I’m sorry for not hearing you earlier.” Y/n responds back crossing his arms as his mom rolls her eyes.

“I need you to go to the store. Get some groceries and then get you and your sister some snacks to eat. And after that go to the corner store and get me and your dad some cigarettes.” She says before grabbing Y/n’s arm using the pin in her other hand writing the list of groceries on him.

After she was done she gave Y/n the money and extra just in case.

Y/n grumbles complaints under his breath as he takes the money and go back up stairs to change.

After changing Y/n goes back downstairs and walk to the front door about to leave.

“And please Y/n, come straight home. No looking for Vance or clues for his disappearance. I know you miss him honey we both do. It’s just that he’s gone now Y/n. He ran away…” She says before giving Y/n a sympathetic look.

Y/n listens to her words before leaving shutting the door behind him.

Digging inside his pockets Y/n gets the Walkman out and puts on the headphones before putting it back inside his pockets.

TIMESKIP

Y/n was finally halfway to the store walking on the sidewalk as he blasted music through his headphones. Y/n eyes were glued to the floor as he walked not bothering to look up.

Suddenly tapped into Y/n's foot.

Stopping in his tracks Y/n looked to see what touched him. It was a can and a few other things behind it. Y/n looked up seeing a man in white face paint on the sidewalk trying to but clumsily picking up his things.

Usually Y/n would have just avoided helping. Like going to a different direction or just out right to ignore them completely. But this time Y/n couldn't just fake his way out of this.

Y/n crouched down picking up the items that were scattered around the sidewalk. The stranger puts the fallen nearby items inside his bag before walking up to the teen.

Y/n hands him the items while imagining how Vance would have picked light fun at him for helping calling him "soft."

"T-thank you so much! Please let me pay you back for your kindness." The stranger says grabbing the teen's arm forcefully trying to pull him to the van.

"Hey man get the hell off of me!" Y/n shouts as he yanks his arm back. The man lunges for Y/n wrapping his arms around him. Y/n tries to fight back by kicking and stomping on the man's foot and also by scratching his arms.

The man swung the teen around in his arms yanking him to the van.

Y/n swung his head straight back hitting the man with the back of his head causing his nose to bleed.

"You brat!" The man shouts as he uses one of his free hand to pry open Y/n's mouth before using his other one to spray something inside his mouth.

Y/n continues to fight and sway around until his own body gives up on him slowly becoming unconscious the man swings open the van door angrily tossing Y/n inside of it before slamming it shut.

TIMESKIP

Opening his eyes slowly Y/n raised his head from the dirty mattress he laid on. As he looked around the more his brain processed what just happened before he got unconscious.

The walls were dirty and rusty and so was the floor. The only thing that kept Y/n company was a black phone besides the mattress on the wall. Y/n sat all the way up leaning his back against the wall.

The only door insight began to unlock and twist open.

Y/n quickly stood up and clenched his fist. Sure Y/n didn't fight much, but all the times he did he won and thankfully his boyfriend was a fighter so he knew a thing or two about beating the hell out of someone.

With the door opening Y/n got into a fighting stance just as his boyfriend taught him.

A man stepped into the empty basement staring at Y/n menacingly.

"Step any closer to me i'll kick your ass." Y/n says not even trying to threatening him. The teen told the man as if he was stating a fact. The man only laughs and step a few feet closer.

"Kick my ass? How cute." The grabber teases.

"Trust me I've been doing this for a long~ time. You won't be the first kid I snatched who fought back." The grabber says before adding."hmm... You know you sounded just like a boy who I kidnapped a few months ago. That's right Vance Hopper."

Y/n's fist clenched tighter as his whole body went into a state of shock and pause. "Y-you what." Y/n says with his voice cracking slightly.

"Vance~ I remember the day I kidnapped him. When I was driving around in my van I saw you two hug and kiss outside of your house. Y'all two looked so inlove as you wished each other bye. Even after he left after walking you open he still had a dopey smile on his face." The grabber says as he smirked behind his mask.

When he thought he would get an outburst from the teen Y/n stayed silent and on guard not even flinching.

The grabber lets out a frustrated noise before turning away leaving slamming the door shut.

With the new information Y/n lets go of the breath he was holding as he laid back down on the mattress thinking. As he thought his eyes wondered around looking before landing on the telephone.

Getting up Y/n walked over to the telephone picking up the phone and dialing 9-1-1. Much to Y/n's guess it didn't work and Y/n put the phone back into its place before sitting back down on his mattress.

TIMESKIP

For the past few days it has been weird and scary for Y/n. For numerous times him and the grabber fought and argued. Y/n refused to eat and drink and even one point threw the tray of food at the grabber once he came to collect it.

And even one time Y/n had gained advantage on the grabber taking him to the floor, but sadly he sprayed the same thing that caused Y/n to be unconscious the first time in his mouth.

The teen even met the ghost of the Grabbers old victims. They taught and helped Y/n against the grabber. Giving the teen tips and how to avoid the same fate they met.

The grabber haven't checked on the kid all day, so Y/n was just in the basement looking at the open scars from the previous fight he and the grabber had.

*riiing* *riiiing*

Y/n head whipped around looking at the black phone that was shaking. The teen quickly got up and walked to the phone. Picking up the phone Y/n glanced to the door making sure the grabber wasn't there.

"Hello?" Y/n says into the phone.

It was silence for a while until...

"Y/n you still sound like a fucking dork."

That's what caused Y/n to freeze. From everything that Y/n went through for the past few days this is what shocked him the most. The voice that he loved and cried for months.

"V-Vance! Is that you?!" Y/n's own voice began to betray him as tears threatened to fall.

"Yes babe it's me!" Vance's voice rings out through the phone causing Y/n start to break down.

"Vance! I'm sorry! I'm sorry that I wasn't there. For months I used to believe that you ran away without me. I-I'm so sorry Vans." Y/n sobs out as he spilled out the nickname he used to call him.

"Babe, don't start crying. I don't like hearing you cry." Vance says as his own voice began to crack.

"I miss you so much...I-I *sniff* " Y/n couldn't even finish his own sentence as he cried leaning his body against the wall.

"I know... I miss you everyday. And I guess it's my fault that we couldn't run away with each other as we planned---"

"Don't say that. It's neither of our faults okay!" Y/n cuts him off as he tried to wipe away his tears.

The phone grows quiet.

Finally breaking the painful silence.

"Promise me Y/n that you'll kick this guy's ass. Do it for the other dumb asses here... Do it for me." Vance says softly.

"I promise. You have my word babe." Y/n voices crack out knowing that he'll have to hang up soon.

"You better god damn it! I'll be there with you okay!?!..."

The two grow silent once again.

“Don’t go…” Y/n breathes out to the phone clenching onto it tightly.

“I have to.”

“Don’t please…even if I— I survive I won’t be able to live without you Vance! You told me that we were soulmates!” Y/n begins to sob again.

“Goodbye Y/n…”

With those last few words the phone rings silently.

With tears blocking his vision he drops the phone letting it hang. Y/n began to cry and shout screaming and cry out for his boyfriend.

“So you do cry?”

Y/n’s head whips around looking at the man that stood by the door.

“After everything this what makes you break? You miss your pathetic boyfriend? Well your in luck because I feel a bit generous today.” The grabber teases before walking towards Y/n.

Once he was close enough Y/n tries to push him away, but the grabber was fast taking a fistful of Y/n’s hair yanking him to him.

The grabber pulls Y/n to the bathroom area.

“This is we’re he died.” The grabber says yanking Y/n’s head to the wall forcing him to look at the pool of dried blood on the walls.

“I took his head just how I am with yours and banged his head against the wall until he was bloody and limp.” The grabber says whispering into Y/n’s ear.

With the picture painted in his mind Y/n eyes started to water as the grabber went on and on about how he killed him.

TIMESKIP

Since his last call Y/n and the ghost began to communicate more and more.

Their calls became more helpful and strategic preparing for what’s about to come or really the day he’s supposed to be killed. Y/n had been staring at the door for the longest.

Y/n looked to the side of the room seeing all the ghost standing by the wall. Who really stuck out to Y/n was his boyfriend looking at him with so much guilt and confidence.

Vance’s eyes softened once him and Y/n met eyes. Y/n gave Vance a small smile before turning back around looking at the door again.

With the door slowly opening Y/n stands up from the bed.

Bracing himself Y/n gets ready to fight with everything he got. With the door opening Y/n’s eyes glare.

First a dog steps inside the room with a steel chain wrapped around his neck. The grabber walks inside behind the dog with a smirk.

“You really are just like your boyfriend. Never backing down from a fight.” The grabber taunts as the dog bark and growl.

“Keep his name out of your fucking mouth.” Y/n says with a straight face showing no emotion.

The grabber ties the chain around a pipe as he takes a knife from his back pocket.

“Too much of a little girl to fight me with your fist.” Y/n says as he’s the one who’s taunting now.

Out of nowhere the grabber strikes pouncing in front of Y/n before swaying the knife to Y/n’s arm. Y/n dodges just in time right before the grabber tries to stab him again.

As the grabber misses a swing Y/n winds up his own arm before giving him a quick hook to the cheek.

The grabber reacts fast using the closeness to his advantage giving Y/n a quick slice to the arm.

As the two fought the ghost watch in different parts of the room. Watching intensely.

Soon enough The grabber begins to play dirty by tackling Y/n onto the hard cold dirty floor. Raising the knife above his head The grabber swings his arm down directly at Y/n’s face.

With luck Y/n swiftly moves his head out of the way making the knife dig into the floor. As the Grabber tries to pull it back Y/n punches the man straight in the stomach causing the Grabber to hunch over and gasp.

Y/n pushes the grabber off of him before quickly climbing on top.

Similar to how Vance got arrested Y/n started to punch the living shit out of the grabber. The grabbers face quickly became bloody.

Once the man under the teen became weak Y/n stood up walking to the knife that was stabbed into the floor he pulled it out before walking back to him.

“You killed those innocent boys… More importantly you killed my boyfriend.” Y/n says as he crawled onto him.

Sitting in his stomach Y/n wrapped both hands around the knife handle bringing the knife above his head he angled the knife above his heart.

Without any more words Y/n plunged the knife deep inside the man’s chest. Y/n drive the knife deep before pulling it out and back inside stabbing him repeatedly.

“You killed my boyfriend you fucking asshole!” Y/n shouted as he stabbed him again and again.

Finally calming down Y/n dropped the knife before getting up and looked around.

With all the ghost staring at him Y/n knew what they wanted to do. Y/n ran up the stares leaving the basement before running to the front door that was surprisingly unlocked.

The only thing Y/n could do now was shut and find someone.

Sprinting out of the yard Y/n ran with all his might. What Y/n didn’t notice that his boyfriend was in the middle of the street watching him run away watching Y/n with a proud expression.

“Good job babe…”

THE END

#vance hopper x reader #vance hopper x male reader #the black phone #the black phone x reader #the black phone x male reader #x male reader #male reader #the bear club

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raineandsky · 3 months

Text

#90

tw: abuse

The hero’s drawn the short straw today. The agency’s gotten a little colder than anyone expected, and he made the mistake of putting his past as an engineer on his CV.

The boiler room isn’t big, really. The agency’s not big enough to warrant any more than two of the things, but one going caput is clearly enough to plunge the place into Arctic temperatures. An easy job, the hero hopes. A quick in-and-out.

He swings the door in, and takes three full steps inside before realising he’s clearly disrupting something. Someone’s sitting on the floor, in the dark, near one of the boilers. He fumbles with the lightswitch, vaguely concerned, and when it finally flicks on he finds that the person he’s disrupting is the villain.

Or the ex-villain, anyway. He’d come here in flurries of broken apologies and begs for mercy. Something had clearly gone wrong with villainy for him to turn up on the agency’s doorstep. They’d let him in, a little begrudgingly, on the pretence that his redemption would come in the form of information. And he did just that—they’ve learnt more about the villains in the month he’s been here than they have in the past year. An asset, and hopefully an ally.

The villain turns away from the lights to wipe at his eyes, and the hero realises he’s disrupted a lot more than he ever wanted to.

“[Villain],” he starts a little awkwardly. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” the villain snaps, but the way their voice catches traitorously tells the hero all he needs to know. The hero heard it, and he knows the villain knows that. “Piss off.”

He takes another slow step inside, letting the door swing shut behind him. He thought the agency had been working on the villain’s attitude—maybe not. “Is it something I can help with, at least?”

The villain shakes his head quickly, stifling a slight snivel under his sleeve. It’s a miserable sight. Maybe he just misses home. The agency probably isn’t much like what he’s used to.

The hero squats down in front of the villain as he tries valiantly to make himself as invisible as possible. The villain’s sudden burst of emotion is unnatural—he’s always so brash, so loud, so sure of himself. Even when he came to the agency for protection, there was an underlying certainty that they’d let him in. But this… this is raw. This is genuine.

The villain pushes the heels of his hands into his eyes with a sigh that’s a lot shakier than he probably intended. His sleeves droop with the motion, and the hero finally gets a hint of what’s causing this.

“Jesus Christ, [Villain],” he snaps a little harsher than he means to. He grabs the villain’s wrists before he can realise his mistake. “What the hell happened?”

Uneven splotches of blue and black rise up the villain’s arms, painfully dark against his ghost-white skin. More of them disappear under where his sleeves stop, and the hero has to resist the urge to push them back to look for more.

The villain looks horrified. He makes an attempt to pull his arms back, but the hero’s grip is so anxiously tight that all he does is tug the hero slightly closer to him. “I said it’s nothing,” he snaps. Or tries to, but his voice breaks on the last word and he devolves into tears.

The hero doesn’t know what to do. He simply settles on the floor in front of him and wraps his arms around his shoulders. The villain melts into him like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do, his face buried into his neck and his hands grasping at the fabric of the hero’s shirt.

The hero’s at a loss for words. He just runs his fingers over the other’s back, quiet comforts whispered between them, until eventually the grief-stricken sobs die down into distant sniffling.

The hero ignores how his heart is twisting at every slight tremble in the villain’s shoulders. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” he asks quietly.

The villain doesn’t reply for a long moment, and the hero’s starting to think he won’t at all when he finds his voice. “I don’t belong here,” is all he says.

“Of course you do,” the hero says without thinking. “Things have gotten better since you got here, [Villain], you’re not—”

“No—I don’t,” the villain interrupts sharply. His face shifts against the hero to dip his gaze to his arms again, and suddenly it makes sense. “No one wants me here, but I have nowhere else to go.”

Another sob threatens to claw up his throat. The hero tightens his hold on the other reassuringly, rocking both of them slightly as the villain fights off another wave of grief.

The heroes. Of course, how did he not see it? They’ve always sneered at the villain, said their shitty remarks and pushed him around a little. This though—this is a lot lower than the hero ever thought they would ever stoop. His mouth is dry at the obvious conclusion that he somehow didn’t catch this. That he let it happen.

“I want to go home,” the villain continues with broken words, “but I don’t think I have one anymore.”

The hero’s chest tightens uncomfortably at that. He cards a hand idly through the villain’s hair, the action a comfort for himself just as much as the other.

Nothing he can say can possibly alleviate the oppressive pain the villain’s been through here. He just tucks the man into his frame, rests his chin on the top of his head, and thinks about murder.

#creative writing #writblr #writers on tumblr #writing #writing community #heroes and villains #hero x villain #tw abuse

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runnning-outof-time · 8 months

Note

“I just need some quiet.” With Arthur 🧡💛

Congrats again friend!!

Thanks for sending this my way, Madelyn! I’m so excited to get some more Arthur in the mix here - I hope you like it! Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration - find more stories here!

Worth Much More

Arthur Shelby x Reader

Warnings: language

Word Count: 1077

Summary: (Y/N) offers some comfort to Arthur after he comes home distraught and thinking erratically.

The sound of the door slamming made (Y/N) jump, and she was sitting up straight on the couch within seconds. She quickly looked around, now acutely aware of her surroundings. Nothing seemed off in the sitting room, but the loud crash that came from the front room had her up and moving, her mind immediately going to the worst.

She was only slightly relieved when she saw what was waiting for her in the other room. Arthur stood only a few feet from the door, his palms pressed into his eyes as he heaved deeply. A quick glance to the floor told her that the loud sound she’d heard was the table that sat next to the door, which was now on the floor.

“Arthur,” she called out to him, hoping he’d lower his hands and acknowledge her. He didn’t. “Arthur,” she tried again, a little louder this time. Nothing. “Arthur!” now she was shouting.

“What?! Fucking what?!” Her raised voice did the trick, making him drop his arms and snap back at her, his eyes filled with rage. She didn’t need to ask to know something was wrong.

But she did anyway: “what’s happened, Arthur?” she spoke in a soft voice.

“Nothing, I…” he paused, clenching his hands into fists in hopes to curtail what he was feeling. His wife wasn’t the cause of his anger, she didn’t deserve to suffer from it. But at the moment, he felt like he couldn’t put it aside.

“Arthur?” she softly prodded him to continue, the stare he was wearing making her slightly more uncomfortable with each second that passed.

He squeezed his eyes shut as she spoke, using everything within him not to snap. She doesn’t deserve it, he kept telling himself, thankful that some rationality was still present in his mind whilst everything else was being painted over red. “(Y/N), fuck, I can’t, I…” his words came out through gritted teeth as he tried to convey his feelings in the calmest way possible. “Not right now, please, ok? I just need some quiet.”

(Y/N) blinked a few times, holding her gaze on him as she let the words sink in. She knew better than to continue at him for the information, and she was thankful that he’d so far managed to keep his emotions in check. So she nodded and softly said: “ok. Ok, Arthur. I’ll give you some quiet.”

Arthur nodded after hearing what she said. The two held each other’s gaze for a few moments longer before he broke it and moved to the steps of the home. (Y/N) watched him go, waiting until he disappeared upstairs to return to the sitting room. A heavy sigh left her lips as she sat down, her mind now running wild with the possibilities of scenarios that caused her husband to act like this.

She let him take the time he needed though and after waiting an hour, she slowly ascended the stairs. She listened for any sound as she walked down the hall, but was only met with silence. After three, quick knocks on the wood, she turned the knob and opened the door. Arthur was sitting on the bed, his head in his hands.

He didn’t notice her enter the room, so when he felt a hand on his knee, he sucked in a deep breath and lifted his head. Her kind eyes instantly met his, and something about them served to instantly quell some of the hurt he’d been feeling.

“Do you want to talk?” she asked him, her eyebrows lifting slightly. “Get anything off your chest?”

Arthur took a deep breath and held it for a moment, knowing that it would be good if he spoke about things instead of bottling them up. He began to speak as he exhaled, “my dad, he, uh…” he paused, running a hand through his hair, “he left town. He took the fuckin’ money I gave him and he left town. I caught him on the platform. He—he was lying about the plan he had…” he ended with another sigh, shaking his head as he dropped his gaze to the floor.

(Y/N) bit her lip as she mulled over the information. She instantly felt terrible for her husband.

Arthur Sr. had sought out his estranged family the second after sauntered back into Small Heath, hoping to put a bug in their ear. It worked with Arthur, and he was immediately roped into this grand scheme of opening a casino in Atlantic City. Tommy told Arthur not to trust it; not to buy into their old man’s schemes. But Arthur didn’t listen. He was determined to show that he also could make smart decisions and legitimate moves. Now was obvious that his choices had blown up in his face.

“I…I’m sorry to hear that, Arthur,” she offered her sympathy to him, gently squeezing his thigh.

“I waited for him, (Y/N),” he stated, pain clear in his voice, “I bloody waited for him just to find out he was takin’ our money and leaving town.”

“You’ll do better without him. You didn’t need his ideas to help you get ahead.”

“I’ve fucked things up for the business,” he sighed, not listening to his wife’s words, “and I ain’t worth much anyway.”

“Don’t say that, Arthur,” (Y/N) was disagreeing with his statement in seconds, “you are worth so much…much more than some money.”

Arthur lifted his eyes to meet hers, seeing that she had an assured look on her face. It was one that made his heart swell just upon seeing it. “Yeah, well…” he paused, a dejected chuckle leaving his lips as he shook his head at his thought, “it’s gonna cost me an arm and a leg to make things right after this.”

“I’m sure it won’t take that much,” she responded, allowing the slightest smile to form on her face as she picked up on the dry humor that was present in his statement.

Seeing her smile made Arthur smile, which in turn made her squeeze his thigh again.

The pain of the betrayal he’d been through that day would linger over the next few days, maybe even weeks; Arthur knew that. But he was thankful that he’d have (Y/N) there to help him through it. He didn’t even want to think of what he would have done if it weren’t for her being there for him.

Tagged: @the-anxious-youth @mystcldydrms @look-at-the-soul @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @shelbydelrey @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @stevie75 @dark-academia-slut @zablife @cillmequick @letal-y-poetica @depxiety @shelundeadxxxx @areyenotfondofmelobster @padfootdaredmetoo @crabat-the-queen @sebastianstangirl01 @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @papichulo120627 @brummiereader @adaydreamaway08 @kissforvoid @raincoffeeandfandoms @peakyltd @johannelis2302nely @just-a-blackhole @anotherblinder @christinasyellowflowers @insanitybyanothername @daisyblinder @wotcherpeak @call-sign-shark

MASTERLIST

#arthur shelby #arthur shelby x reader #arthur shelby x y/n #arthur shelby blurb #arthur shelby fanfiction #arthur shelby fanfic #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders blurb #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #k’s 3.5k celebration

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wolfjackle-creates · 1 year

Text

WIP Wednesday

So, here's a short excerpt for WIP Wednesday (963 words)! Thank you for everyone who followed my new writing blog, the response has been so unbelievable.

Trigger Warning: Discussion of parental death

Original Prompt Fill

1st Shared Segment

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IKnowYourSecrets: hey

IKnowYourSecrets: I know this isnt something weve done before

IKnowYourSecrets: you said you got a cell for your last bday

IKnowYourSecrets: can I call you?

IKnowYourSecrets: heres my number XXX-XXX-XXXX

-xXPolarisXx-: is everything ok?

-xXPolarisXx-: dont answer that

-xXPolarisXx-: obv not

-xXPolarisXx-: my phones in my room brb

Danny ran up stairs to grab his phone and return to the computer before anyone could close out of his chat. He checked the number and dialed it, closing out of everything and logging out as the call connected.

“Tim?” he asked as soon as the ringing stopped. “What’s happened?”

“Danny? I… this is weird talking like this.” Tim’s voice was rough and Danny couldn’t tell if that was from emotion or just how he normally sounded.

Danny laughed a little. “Yeah. It is. Give me a sec, let me get to my room and I’ll shut the door. Give us some privacy.”

“I… yeah. I might need a few minutes.”

“Are you okay?”

Tim made a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob and Danny all but ran up the stairs. “No, not really. Um. My mom’s dead.”

“What?!" What was the appropriate response to something like this? Sometimes he wished he had Jazz's way with words. "What happened?”

“She and dad were in the Caribbean." Tim let out a huff. "I didn’t even know they were in the Caribbean.”

Danny made a noise to indicate he was listening, but waited for Tim to continue.

“There was a local villain named Obeah man. He captured them and held them ransom. Gave them some water to drink at some point, but… it was poisoned. By the time Batman got there, it was too late. Mom died.” Tim gave another half-hysterical laugh. “And my dad is in a coma. He may never wake up.” His voice trailed off.

Danny swallowed. How does anyone respond to news like that? “I’m so sorry, Tim. How are you holding up? What’s going to happen now?”

“The funeral is in two days. Bruce is organizing it. And I’m going to stay with him, I guess. He said he’d be happy to foster me until my dad gets better.”

“Shit, Tim. Text me during the funeral if you need to.”

“I might take you up on that. You won’t mind?”

“Of course not. Every 5 seconds if you need to.”

“Distract me. What’s going on in your life? I don’t want to think about any of this anymore.”

“Oh, uh, all right. Are you sure?”

“Please, Danny.”

“If you change your mind, interrupt me anytime.” Danny chewed his lip. What on earth could he talk about in response to news like that? The test he had in English last week? That sounded so trite. “I did start karate training with…” he trailed off before he could say his mom. “Anyway, it’s going all right. I’ve basically only been taught basic moves. I only get lessons two or three times a month so it’s slow going.”

Tim’s voice was still shaky, but he seemed to latch onto the topic to Danny’s relief. “You really have to give it your all if you want to succeed. Have you learned the basic stances and things?”

“Some, I think.”

“Hold those positions. Stand in your room and just hold them for ten minutes at a time. And practice the same punch over and over. Even if your m—” Tim’s voice caught and he changed course “—instructor can’t make it. Would you be allowed to sign up for classes? Get something more consistent?”

“We don’t have the money.” Danny bit back the embarrassment he felt at admitting that. Tim was rich-rich and never had to worry about things like bills. “Ghost hunting doesn’t really pay. My parents are at least good engineers so they can fix our own appliances and vehicles. Sometimes dad or mom will fix stuff for the neighbors for some extra money.”

Tim hummed in understanding and didn’t push the issue. “How did they even get into ghosts to begin with?”

“If we ever end up in the same place, you are not allowed to ask that directly to my parents. Don’t mention ghosts at all. They won’t stop talking for hours. As for how they got into it… Dad’s always believed in the supernatural. He could’ve just as easily started tracking big foot or the Loch Ness Monster. But he met mom in university and she was stuck on ghosts. Dragged him in, too. And he’s obsessive. Once he decides on something, that’s it.

“They were both studying the supernatural and had to decide what to focus on for their doctoral research. Mom’s hated ghosts since she was a teenager. Apparently she and a friend were dared to go into a haunted house one Halloween. She doesn’t talk about it much, but her friend died that night. She blames the ghosts and has dedicated her life to hunting them ever since.”

Tim clicked his tongue. “Wow. It almost makes sense with that back story.”

Danny snorted. “Ghosts aren’t real. I dunno what killed her friend, but it wasn’t a ghost. Wish they’d decided to hunt Bigfoot instead.”

“Really? Why do you say that?”

Danny looked out his window and stared at the setting sun. “If they were hunting bigfoot, we’d probably go camping more often. And I like camping. You get the best views of the stars that way.”

“What’s your favorite constellation?”

“That’s like asking who my favorite Star Trek character is! There’s too many to choose. But do you know the folk history of Polaris? It’s why I chose my username.” Danny talked to Tim about the stars and space until Alfred called him away for dinner. They made plans to talk online again later.

-----

Now, I have a question for y'all. I was planning on finishing the entire work then publishing on a once a week basis until finished (or twice a week if I had more chapters than I expect). I've got the first chapter mostly done, just need to rewrite one section and change a few lines elsewhere. I also have the next 1.5 chapters mostly done on a first draft. I could start posting now, but I can't guarantee a posting schedule and I'll probably have to take a hiatus or two as I plan to get a new job and move sometime in the next few months.

So my question, do you want me to post now or wait? It'll probably be several months if not a year before I finish depending on how long I take and how many other projects catch my eye.

-----

In other news, the creator of the original prompt started their own fill, too! If you read mine, I am requiring you to check theirs as well because it is amazing 💕. Tumblr Link and AO3 Link

Tag List

@gremlin-bot, @bonebrokebuddy, @britcision, @lady-time-lord-, @welcometosasakiworld, @akikkobara, @phoenixdemonqueen, @dolfay, @skulld3mort-1fan, @we-ezer, @markus209, @sjrose1216, @onyxlightdragon, @dragonsrequiem, @jesus-camp-the-sequel, @spidey29phangirl, @kyrianclawraith, @evilminji, @introvert-even-on-the-internet, @emergentpanda-blog, @lexdamo, @v-inari, @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit, @longlivethefallen

I removed the names of some people who requested a tag back in November but didn’t interact with the last snippet I shared. Since it’s been so long, I wasn’t sure if you were still interested. I’ll be more than happy to add anyone else, re-add anyone I took off, or take off anyone who doesn’t want future tags! Or start a separate list just for after there’s an AO3 link. Just let me know!

#dp x dc #my writing #bring me home fic #danny fenton #tim drake #first phone call #not a happy day #but theyll get through it

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blegh-110 · 2 years

Text

Have I found you, flightless bird? (2/?)

Pairing: Soft!Dark!Tangerine x Fem!Reader

Summary: The night finally comes where Tangerine makes his move.

Chapter Warnings: Obsessive behavior, criminal activity, talk of nonconsensual drugging (let me know if I missed anything)

Word Count: 7.5k

A/N: Happy Monday! Hope this makes your day a little better! Just fyi, I got a job so the next chapter might take a while to come out. Anyways, happy reading!! :)

Tangerine was feeling stressed. Really fucking stressed and worried.

If anyone knew he was an assassin, a brutal one at that, they would have found his state comical. Who knew that someone who kills others as an occupation is feeling sick to his stomach because the girl he likes is no more than fifteen feet away from him.

Tangerine stares at the back of your head through the door for a few more seconds then goes into the bathroom to compose and settle himself down. Fixing any wrinkle in his coat, smoothing out his hair and mustache, as well as putting his rings and necklace into place. He needs to look absolutely perfect and presentable for you.

Before he walks out and makes his way back to you, he reminds himself that there is no way he could lose you. He and Lemon made sure of it. They both had bought all the tickets for the night, so there were no other passengers on the train but you two. This will give Tangerine some alone time with you, as well as the chance for you to know him. He had also bought a ticket that had his assigned seat directly across from you. Next, they paid the workers to help him keep you on the train, as well as some more to keep their mouths shut after tonight. The last thing they did was ask and pay the conductor, who controls opening and closing the doors on the train, to keep the doors closed and locked the entire night. There is no way you were getting off the bullet train until you two arrived at Tangerine's home, which will soon become your new home.

While these thoughts were bouncing around in Tangerine’s head, you were sitting in your seat waiting for the train to take off when you realize just how empty the carriage is. Which surprises you. There would usually be at least half the seats taken, so seeing it empty was a bit weird. Especially when you look out the window and see hundreds of people in the streets. The difference makes you feel just a little uneasy and you start to get bored, so to distract yourself, you dig into your bag and pull out a book and begin reading.

After the first few sentences, you start to get sucked into the story. It’s like the world around you slowly fades away and you are inserted into the novel. You eventually feel as though you aren’t even reading anymore because the words on the pages turn into a movie in your mind. You can clearly picture the descriptions of people and places, and feel what they feel, and-

“Excuse me, miss.” You hear someone say behind you, making you flinch in your seat at the sudden voice with an accent that sounded familiar. You place your book on the table before you turn around, and immediately want to disappear. It’s him again, you would’ve recognized that mustache anywhere. You feel a sense of deja vu as your cheeks heat up and your brain turns into mush as you stare up at him. God, he’s so handsome.

What makes this situation worse was that after being so immersed into a book, you would often get a little woozy because the world had a wiggle to it for a few seconds. So you were feeling extra disoriented.

“I think my seat is across from you, love.” He says gently, giving you butterflies once again, and points to his seat. And just in a short amount of time, seconds, you felt a mixture of emotions. One, that feeling when you can’t breathe or think properly because there is an extremely attractive person in front of you and he called you love again. Two, the feeling of terror because that said person is going to be sitting three feet away from you and you have to somehow act like you’re heart isn’t about to explode. Three, despite the fear, there was a small part of you that was thrilled to have someone so perfect be so close. Plus, he smelled good and you were pretty sure you had already fallen in love with this man.

Meanwhile, Tangerine genuinely cannot believe he is in front of you. After weeks of looking at you from a distance, he can’t help but stare down at you and take you all in. And he isn’t subtle about it either. He feels no shame when his eyes wander from your hair to your nose to your lips and all over tired face.

“Oh, okay.” You hope you sound normal and not like a nervous wreck. The man smiles at you and sits down. The sudden realization really sinks into you that he was going to be sitting across from you for however long. Could be twenty minutes, could be an hour. You just wish the burning in your face would go away, you were getting sweaty in such a short amount of time and it was uncomfortable. A part of you also curses him for choosing the seat across from you and not any of the empty ones all around you.

As he’s settling in his seat and taking off his coat, you quickly pick your book up again, right in front of your face so he doesn’t see you, but don’t even try to read the text. You’re in no state of mind to comprehend any sort of sentence but you just want to take a moment and pull yourself together. But Tangerine doesn’t want to wait anymore than he should. While he understands that he probably should take his time at this stage, he doesn’t want to wait ten minutes sitting in silence, then make his move.

He also thinks that at this point, you’re practically his and he’s yours now, so what’s the harm in speeding up the process just a little?

“My name is Tangerine, by the way. I’m gonna be here for a while, and I, uh, assume you are as well?” He made sure to talk quietly and slowly, not wanting to scare you off. Lemon had told him that he could be a little too straightforward, well, a lot actually. And to not dive straight into the abduction part of his plan. Tangerine was also well aware that you were a jumpy little thing, so he uses his tone and chooses his words carefully.

“Tangerine?” Your eyes peek over your book and Tangerine resists the urge to coo at your shyness. While your agitation doesn’t completely go away, some of it is replaced with confusion. You had never heard such a name, but it was cute. And strangely fitting how someone so intimidating and with a large frame was nicknamed something small.

Before answering, Tangerine decides he wants to mess with you a bit as he’s slightly entertained seeing you squirm in your seat and avoid any sort of contact. Although he isn’t as skilled as Lemon was with reading people, he can still see people’s true character and feelings to an extent. You also aren’t someone who is good at hiding their feelings, you’re an open book and that just made it easier for Tangerine to understand your personality more.

He nods then tilts his head in faux uncertainty, “You know, you look really familiar. Have we met before?”

“Uh, yes, actually. Like three months ago, I think.”

Tangerine’s heart drops to the pit of his stomach, feeling offended that you don’t remember. Two months ago, He corrects you in his head.

“It was only a few seconds though.” You continue.

Tangerine nods his head again, not putting away his confused expression and furrowed eyebrows which makes you nervous. He’s looking at you like you're doing something wrong, “You’re not stalking me, are you?”

Now you’re really at a loss for words. What could you say to that? The answer was obviously no, but the question and his genuine concern shocks you to your core. And you’re aware that your lack of a quick answer makes you look suspicious and you start to feel even more nervous as his eyes are dead set on you.

“I- no, I’m not I promise-” You shake your head and start but then cut yourself off when you see a smirk make its way on his face, one that makes your heart swoon but you also want to slap him for his “joke”. Even though this furthers you more into humiliation, you feel your lips curl into a smile that you try to hide by looking away outside the window.

“That was really funny.” You try to say with indifference but you can’t help but smile widely and let out a breathy laugh that Tangerine wants to remember forever.

He gazes at you for a little while longer. Which, at the moment, is difficult because you're facing away from him and hiding behind your hair. But through the strands, he can see a grin and you stifle a laugh. His concentration is soon broken when you both hear the sound of a door opening and Tangerine sees a woman pushing a cart with various colorful snacks and drinks.

You immediately sit up and dig back into your bag for your wallet, excited for your treats after another long and awful day at work.

“Hello, would either of you like a snack or a drink?” The kind lady asks with a smile. Tangerine nods to you, silently telling you to go first while he reaches into his pocket for his own wallet.

“I’d like a fish biscuit, please, and a…” You pause for a moment, inspecting the numerous flavored sodas and juices in front of you and trying to decide which one sounded good. Tangerine smiles adoringly at you. He finds your serious expression absolutely adorable, the way your eyes went from bottle to bottle with furrowed eyebrows reminds him of a small but angry kitten.

“I’ll have the mango juice. Thank you very much.” You say and are about to hand her the money when Tangerine speaks up suddenly.

“I can get that for you, darling. Here you go,” Tangerine gives the woman five times as much money making your eyes widen, “May I have four more of those biscuits and juices, please?”

“Oh, no, you really don’t have to-” You begin but the woman is already placing five biscuits and five drinks on the table before she states that the train will be going in about a minute or so, then she leaves.

“I really don’t mind, it’s nice to have a friend right now,” Tangerine wants to shoot himself after saying friend. Just the thought of you being anything but his lover makes him feel irritated. But that sweet smile and starry eyes you give him as he pushes the pile of snacks towards you is enough to make his heart slow down. You’re too cute for your own good… and my own good, Tangerine thinks. “Also, think of this as an apology for my joke.” He refers to him asking you if you’ve been stalking him.

“Oh, yeah. That was really mean.” You say in a teasing tone while smiling. You reach for a biscuit and mango juice, ready to eat but the plastic wrapping around the lid slows you down.

“And I’m truly sorry for it, love.” His tone is nowhere near sympathetic and there is a small smirk on his face.

“Well you’re forgiven, and thank you, this is really nice of you, Tangerine.” You look at him shyly then quickly back down to the cap you’re still trying to open. He is so gorgeous and kind that it’s overwhelming to look at him longer than three seconds.

You give up unwrapping the plastic from the cap with your hands and bring the bottle up to your mouth, ready to use your teeth to tear it when Tangerine stops you.

“No, don’t use your teeth. Give that to me.” He takes the bottle away from you and easily tears through the plastic, then gives it back. You let out a small thank you, once again, your heart fluttering at the smallest amount of his attentiveness he gives you. As you’re taking a sip, you watch Tangerine grab a fish biscuit and open it before placing it on a napkin and pushing it to you. Again, a small action that probably didn’t mean much to anyone, but it meant everything to you.

You can’t remember the last time someone showed you an ounce of kindness. And here this stranger is, treating you decently and raising your expectations of men in a blink of an eye. Even though you didn’t have much to offer, you want to repay his kindness back, so you do the same thing, minus the drink part because you struggle to open it.

“Well aren’t you a sweetheart, thank you.” Tangerine wants to lean across the table and kiss your warm cheeks when you push a biscuit and drink to him. You really were an angel, a silent dream. How you remained this way through your asshole coworkers and viscous parents, Tangerine does not know. He would have lost his shit long ago and taken his frustration out on anybody that crossed him.

Before he takes a bite, he takes his blue blazer off and rolls his sleeves up, revealing a couple tattoos and veins running down his forearm. You gulp and have to force yourself to look away, thinking how a man like him is real and attractive and at the same time, not insane or a jerk.

“You’re welcome.” You say timidly and begin eating, trying not to stare. Tangerine chuckles at your response, finding your manners incredibly cute.

“Also, sorry for having a seat so close to you, the guy selling me the ticket didn’t let me choose my seat.”

“That’s okay, I don’t mind.” You give him another smile that goes straight to Tangerine’s heart and he withholds himself from wrapping his arms around you and wiping away the crumbs on your lips.

For the next fifty minutes, it felt as though you and Tangerine were detached from the rest of the world. The two of you were completely caught up with each other, acting like little kids who liked one another. You listened intently to the stories Tangerine had about him and his brother, Lemon, when they were younger. You laughed at their silly antics and awed at how he talked about him like he was his whole world. And just by listening to Tangerine, you could easily tell that he’s the type of person who loves passionately. Growing up in a household where you saw your parents fighting more than anything, it was lovely to hear about their brotherly love. And you couldn’t help your mind wander off, wondering what it would be like to be loved by someone like Tangerine, or by Tangerine himself.

You guys also talked about your own hobbies, which he surprisingly liked as well. You brought up Jersey Shore being your comfort tv show, which made Tangerine laugh and ask you why. And you explained that it was just mindless and entertaining television. Then you gave him the full rundown of the infamous note Jwoww and Snooki gave to Sammi Sweetheart in season two, this engrossed him completely, which made you laugh.

Along with this, the books you read and loved, Tangerine did as well! You both discussed events and themes and different characters from different books. He even let you talk about ones you hadn’t read but wanted to. He listened to everything you had to say like it was the most important thing, because to him, it was. Tangerine had been on the sidelines watching you and doing nothing else for two months, and he was longing to know you. So he was more than content to sit back and let you ramble, he felt it was a privilege to hear you speak and know what you were thinking.

You were aware that you were talking a lot and surprisingly, you liked the attention he was giving you. You liked the look he gave you with his chin in his palm and liked that he gave his own commentary and thoughts. This was the first human interaction you had where you didn’t want to run away or were waiting for it to end.

It had not even been an hour, but for the first time in long while, you were happy. You hadn’t smiled widely for so long your cheeks hurt, or felt comfortable enough to want to tell Tangerine everything about yourself. It was overwhelming the emotions you felt, but at the same time it wasn’t enough. But even with this happiness, you felt it was only temporary. You knew that in about five minutes, the bullet train would be at your stop and you would have to get off and go back to your apartment all alone, most likely never seeing Tangerine again. These thoughts came up when the intercom announced that the bullet train will be stopping soon and you physically felt your high spirits evaporate.

“It was really nice getting to know you, Tangerine. Seriously, this has been the best part of my day.” You smile at him sadly as you get up from your seat when the train slows down.

Tangerine doesn’t respond, instead he’s waiting for one of the workers to show up and do their job. He starts to become impatient and irritable, wondering where they were and why the fuck they were taking so long. As you’re gathering your stuff and putting on your coat, you hear the door to the carriage open and one of the workers comes through.

“Hello, I’m very sorry miss, but we can’t get the doors to open at the moment. They seem to be broken.” The woman says apologetically.

“That’s okay, I can just go through the next door.” You shrug and start to walk away when she quickly blocks you from going through the door to the next carriage, “None of them are opening right now, miss. Please sit down and we’ll begin our ride to the next stop.”

Your eyes widen, “The next stop?”

“Yes.” She smiles at you like this situation is not a big deal, like this is a normal day for her, which baffles you. She is about to leave when you're the one stopping her.

“Wait, can’t you just-I don’t know, stop the train for now and fix it? I really need to get home” You don’t mean to sound whiny, but you were extremely tired and just wanted to lay down. You also have another early day at work and need all the sleep you can get so you’re not too inadequate.

While you try to convince the woman to talk to the conductor and ask him to not leave the station, Tangerine is sitting in his seat watching the whole thing, trying not to show any signs of satisfaction or excitement. He was only getting closer and closer to his plan being complete. But that goes away and is replaced with worry when another worker comes in and waves at him to come close. He sighs with annoyance and gets up, hoping something hadn’t gone wrong. The worker leads him to the next carriage.

“Um, mister Tangerine. We’re having trouble with the doors in carriage fourteen, they seem to be broken and they won’t close.” Although it seemed like a small issue, Tangerine was an assassin. And his job required that he think of every single thing that could go wrong in a mission. And right now his mind was immediately going to you walking further down the train, noticing the doors were open, and you slipping through his fingers. He needs to get back to you quickly and make sure you don’t wander off.

“Alright, what the fuck do you want me to do about it then?” His voice was quiet and calm, but the worker knew he was pissed because of his clenched jaw and intense eye contact. He also wasn’t sure what to say.

“Well don’t just stand there, you twat. Get someone to fuckin’ shut the door.” Tangerine doesn’t let the man speak as he walks back and he sees you slumped in your seat with a tired look on your face. He immediately wants to sit next to you and hold you in his arms and tell you to go to sleep, but he is not at that stage yet. But his patience is wearing thin, and he feels he is close to snapping.

“This doesn’t make sense, why are we even going to the next stop when the doors aren’t even working?” You grumble in your seat and look out the window. Tangerine finds your pout cute and has to look away so he doesn’t smile in adoration because he knows you're annoyed and doesn’t want to make you feel worse.

He understands that this is a huge inconvenience for you and that you had the right to be annoyed. But at the same time, he wants to tell you that you won’t ever have to work anymore and that he’s going to love you and take care of you from now on. As cute as your angry little face is, knock that attitude off.

With every station the bullet train arrives at and the doors don't open, the more infuriated you become. And when you become like this, you don't want to speak to anyone, you simply don’t have the energy or interest. And this is a problem for Tangerine, all he wants to do is talk to you. Because of this, his mood drops as well. He is ready to knock some sense into you and reveal that you were going home with him and staying there. He sees you look at your phone to check the time and you huff. This prompts him to check his watch. 8:49.

“You know what? I can’t just sit here and wait anymore. There’s fifteen carriages and two doors between each one, one of them has to work.” You say angrily and start to gather your stuff again. While on your small rampage, you don’t even look at Tangerine once. As far as he knows, you were talking to yourself. And when you’re about to walk away, you don’t say goodbye. And this really hurts and makes Tangerine angry. He’s too caught up in his emotions that he forgets about the doors at carriage fourteen. But he realizes at the last second

“Y/N, sit down!” His tone is a combination of his panic and anger, which causes him to shout and this scares you. It reminds you too much of your father screaming and you flinch, waiting for a door to slam loudly, but it never comes. You don’t move an inch, you’re frozen in your spot with your heart picking up and mind becoming hazy. Tangerine sees your uneasiness and quickly calms down, the absolute last thing he wants is to scare you and make you feel anxious around him.

“Love, I am sorry for my tone, but there is nothing you can do right now. The doors don’t even open until another ten minutes. So just sit down and relax, please.” Tangerine says in a softer tone, but it does nothing to soothe you.

“I don’t want to sit down and relax, I need to get home and sleep! And when they fix the doors, how am I going to get back to my stop?” Your frustration combined with your tiredness causes your voice to waver, indicating that you were close to crying. Tangerine sees your watery eyes and he feels his heart hurt.

“Oh, darling, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay, I promise. C’mere.” He very gently wraps his hand around your wrist and pulls you into his body. And you let him and it feels wonderful to be held so tenderly. Despite the rational part of your brain asking you why you’re letting a complete stranger touch you, you ignore it in favor of the warmest arms you’ve ever encountered. At the same time, it feels strange to have arms wrapped around you, you can’t remember the last time anyone has held you this close.

You close your eyes with your cheek resting on his chest, trying so hard to not let the tears fall and taking deep breaths to calm your beating heart. You feel your face heating up with embarrassment at the fact that you were on the verge of crying like a baby and a grown adult who you barely knew was trying to console you. So you try to swallow the lump in your throat and breathe through your mouth so he doesn’t hear you sniffle. Tangerine of course notices you holding back, and is quite impressed with how quiet you’re able to be, but he’s not going to let you continue with this, not anymore.

You feel a warm hand begin rubbing your back with a firm touch. Up, down, left, right, all around, slowly. You feel another hand stroking the top of your hair, it feels nice. And with his chin resting on the top of your head, you are engulfed and surrounded by Tangerine. All you feel and see and smell is him. Something about the way he’s holding you and making you feel safe makes your tears fall. This is all you ever wanted.

“That’s okay, I know. You can let it out, it’s no good to hold it all in.” Tangerine whispers into your hair when he hears the first sniffle. He doesn’t stop his hand movements when he feels you shaking in his arms and hears your sobbing, but he does tighten his arms around you.

Your cries and heaving breaths are reduced to sniffles and hiccups. You are suddenly aware of what you have just done, feeling like a nuisance.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened. I’m fine, I promise.” You pull away enough to look up at him and find him already staring at you with concern. Tangerine shakes his while gently swiping his thumbs across your cheeks, wiping your tears away.

“You don’t ever have to apologize for the way you feel. And I can very clearly see you are not okay, and there is nothing wrong with that. Sit down, please, let me get you some water, don’t want you feeling ill, do we?” You shake your head and sit back down, feeling cold and drained. It was strange that not even an hour ago, you were the happiest you had ever been. And now, your eyelids were feeling heavy and like someone had just thrown sand in them.

Tangerine sees that you’re close to falling asleep, he doesn’t think you even know you’re about to fall asleep. He quickly runs to the kitchen for some water, hoping to get you hydrated so you don’t get a headache. As he’s rummaging through the fridge he silently curses himself for buying you all those sugary snacks and drinks, that can’t be settling well in your stomach. But when he returns to you, you are fully leaning against the window and he can hear your snores.

He doesn’t know what to do next, so he decides to give Lemon a call for some advice.

When you wake up, you don’t feel any better. Your mind immediately goes to the fact that you are probably further away from your stop, and you’re still tired. The urge to close your eyes and go back to sleep is strong, but you sit up and feel something slide off of you. You look down and see that it’s a jacket, the one you saw Tangerine wearing earlier. You then realize that he is nowhere to be seen, but there is a bottle of water on the table that your dry throat is begging for.

While drinking it, you wait for Tangerine to return from wherever he is but he still hasn’t come. Feeling impatient, you get up and start walking up the train. But with every carriage you walk through, there is not a single person you see. There is a slow feeling of panic arising within you, it feels everyone in the world abandoned you and you were the only left. Before you enter the next carriage you hear Tangerine’s voice and you stop, feeling relieved that he was still on the train with you. You’re about to go back to your seat, but you hear him start to talk.

“Is this really my last resort?... Alright, how much do I give her?... The whole bottle? Lemon, are you fuckin’ insane?”

Many thoughts and questions are going through your head right now. Lemon? His brother Lemon? What are they talking about? What is he giving to who? Why does he sound so angry?

“I’ll give her half the amount, I only want her knocked out so I can get her in the car… She’s asleep right now.”

You feel all the air in your lungs disappear, your stomach is in knots, and a fear so deep in your bones that it’s difficult for you to think or move. You can only hear his side of the conversation, and with each sentence he says, the more terrified you become. If you’re hearing this correctly, Tangerine is talking to his brother about drugging someone, who is most likely you, and taking them to his car after. Then doing who knows what.

“I’ll pour it in her water or something and have her drink it, actually that strawberry soda she likes would be better.”

That was enough to confirm that he’s talking about you. You slowly back away from the door, being careful not to make any noise. When you’re far away enough, you take off to find the closest person who works on the train.

Your heart beats so fast and hard you feel like it’s going to burst out of your chest, not even hours ago you felt the same way for Tangerine, but it was for different reasons now. You run faster through each carriage, not knowing when Tangerine would get off the phone and continue with his scheme. But you feel relieved when you arrive inside the kitchen and see a woman filling up the cart with more snacks. But she looks horrified to see you.

“Oh, thank god. We need to get off right now. That man I was with is going to kill me, we need to go, please.” You grab her and try to drag her to the nearest door, but she’s shaking her head and looks at you apologetically.

“Miss, I am very sorry, but I cannot let you leave at this moment-”

“No, you don’t understand, you have to! There’s a man, his name is Tangerine, he’s trying to kidnap me, please help me-”

“Y/N?”

Your heart stops when you hear Tangerine’s voice. He’s fast.

You don’t look back, you continue to stare at the woman in front of you and silently beg for her to stay. She sadly pats your shoulder before turning away and walking out the same door Tangerine came from.

“Turn around please.” You do as he says, afraid that if you even step a toe out of line, he would pull a knife out and stab you. When you look at him, he doesn’t say anything, he only stares back. But that friendly face you witnessed earlier is gone, instead, a frown is settled on his lips and his eyes are showing dissappointment. You think it’s because of you, but Tangerine is really angry at himself for not putting a careful eye on you. He took his eye off of you for a second, more like an hour actually, and his plan has gone to shit.

“Y/N, I’m not sure exactly what you heard-”

“You were going to hurt me.” You whisper, mentally hitting yourself for interrupting him. You have no idea what he’s capable of, but if he has access to drugs that could “knock” you out for a few hours, then surely he has some sort of weapon on him.

“Not too much. Just enough to… leave you unconscious for a bit. I wasn’t going to do anything too crazy.”

“You think drugging someone without their consent isn’t ‘too crazy’?” You say this with just a smidge of anger and disbelief. You truly cannot believe what you are hearing. He’s fucking insane if he thinks what he was going to do isn’t extremely violating and fucked up.

“I really don’t appreciate that tone, love.” He says with irritation. And you’re back to being absolutely disturbed, that tiny amount of bravery is gone. He takes one step towards you.

“Tangerine, you’re scaring me.” You whisper while backing away slowly from him, afraid that if you went any faster he’ll pounce on you. While stepping back, you hit one of the carts that had the snack and drinks, and you grip it with tight fingers behind you.

“Love, that’s not my intention. I just want to be with you, that’s all.” Tangerine’s irritation is gone and he says this as gently as possible so as to not scare you, but the quick mood switch only increases it more. You're appalled at his honesty and bluntness, he isn’t even going to try and give a bullshit lie explaining what you heard.

“I don’t even know you, please let me go, I promise I won’t tell anyone, please.” Your voice wavers in fear and the image of him becomes blurry with your tears, cracking Tangerine’s heart

“I just want to take care of you-” He takes a big step toward you and you quickly bring the cart in front of you and, with all your strength, shove it towards him. Genuinely surprised by your actions and sudden strength, Tangerine stumbles back and watches you sprint out the other door. He looks at the clock and realizes it’s exactly 11 o’clock, all the doors in carriage fourteen are open.

You can't remember a time where you had run this fast in your life, everything in your peripheral was a blur. You’re slowed down each time you stop at each door, trying to open them then banging your fist on it in anger when it stays closed. Your thoughts go to Tangerine only getting closer, and this makes you run just a bit faster.

You cannot believe the turn of events. All of your infatuation and feelings for Tangerine were gone in an instant when you heard his plans to drug and abduct you. They were replaced with disbelief and terror. You also feel incredibly stupid, you fell for his charm and they way he made you feel special and cared for. You even let the man touch you and hug you. Now knowing he only did that as a way to make you feel comfortable enough to catch you off guard and snatch you makes you feel sick to your stomach. It’s such an uncomfortable feeling. You’re really about to vomit, your whole body is shaking, you’re lightheaded and can’t think straight.

“Shit.” You whisper when you’re in the second to last carriage. You doubt that the last pair of doors will open, which means that you were screwed if these ones didn’t open. You never prayed before, but this time you do as you ran to the doors and hope to god that they open. You barely stepped in front of them and the doors slid open. You felt a huge portion of worry lift off of you in exchange for relief, but you weren’t done yet. You step out of the bullet train and the first thing you see are two security guards

When you run up to them, they look startled. You think it’s because of the way you look, all out of breath and panicked.

“Please help me, t-there's someone on there trying to hurt me. I h-heard him say he’s-”

“Miss, you can’t get off the train at this moment, please get back on.” One of them says and tries to lead you back on.

“What? No, there’s a man on there that tried to hurt me-”

“Yes, and I understand, but you need to get back on.” The other one says.

“You understand? What the- no, you’re not listening to me- hey, what are you doing, stop!” Their hands are suddenly around your upper arms and they begin dragging you towards the train. You feel another wave of panic and confusion hit you at the same time, and the tears come back.

“No, no, no, let go of me! Stop! Help!” You scream and chant so loud that your throat hurts. You dig your feet into the floor as hard as you can and thrash around in their grip, this catches them off guard and you manage to escape, but only for a few seconds before they catch you again. Their hands around your arms is reminiscent of the two cooks that you worked with and you would much rather be with them right now.

When they have you in front of the train they still have you in their hands before you find yourself on the floor. Inside the bullet train. You feel a familiar pain in your knees along with some sort of liquid, you look down and see blood. You begin crying in pain, but you stand up on wobbly legs and try to escape one last time, but you're once again on the floor when they push you back in.

You don’t know how long you’ve been laying on the floor, but long enough to know that the doors have closed and won’t be opening soon. Then you hear the door to the carriage open, along with the sight of two shoes.

This is it. This is how I’m going to die.

“Oh, darling.” Tangerine sees your bloody knees and makes a mental note to “talk” with the two guards that did this to you. He kneels down beside you, making you flinch. Tangerine ignores your action and takes a closer look at your knee, that’s when he remembers your bruised skin. You’re probably still healing from your bruises and those two guards made it worse.

“C’mon, let’s get you up now.” Tangerine places one arm under your knees and the other under your back and lifts you up. This quick action surprises you and you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck so you don’t fall. Being so close to him makes you nauseous again, along with the copious amount of sugar you consumed and the running you did. You can feel your stomach turning and bile making its way up your throat. You start to cry again when you realize you are about to throw up.

Tangerine looks at you and very clearly sees how sick you look. He quickly takes you to the bathroom, places you on the floor, and lifts up the toilet seat. But you shake your head and lean away, you are absolutely terrified of throwing up. The thought of the contents in your stomach shooting back up in a hot, gross substance makes you gag again.

“I know you don’t feel good right now, but you’ll feel much better after, I promise.” Tangerine puts one hand on your back and pats it, while the other hand gently gathers your hair in a loose ponytail. His heartbreak when he sees your endless tears dripping down your face and hears your sobbing, it reminds him too much of when you would cry alone in your apartment. Only this time he’s here with you. And as much as it pains him to do this, he wants you to feel better. So he starts patting your back harder, starting from the bottom to the top.

You try to squirm away but he has a stiff hold on you. Then you moan in pain when you feel your stomach churning, it feels like it’s literally twisting inside your body. With Tangerine patting your back, you feel the contents shoot up your throat and you squeeze your eyes shut as it ends up in the toilet. You aren’t exactly sure what happens after that, only that Tangerine somehow got you in a private room on the train and you’re still crying.

“It’s done now, you’re all done now, love. You did a great job, I know that hurt.” It really shouldn’t, but the way he speaks to you calms you down and reduces your sobs to small sniffles. But there’s still a fear of the unknown of what he’ll do to you. You then become completely aware of your surroundings and find Tangerine with a damp towel in his hand and a first aid kit next to him. And he’s kneeling on the ground.

“May I?” He gestures to your injured knees. You might as well let him clean your wound, he’s got you trapped anyways and you’re sure if you try to escape again you won’t make it very far. You nod at him and look away. Tangerine carefully rolls up the bottom of your pants above your knees, quietly apologizing when you whimper when the fabric brushes against your cuts.

The complete silence kills you. You don’t know what to say. But you’re extremely confused and still trying to process the last two or three hours, or four hours. You have no idea what time it is.

You first meet Tangerine, and it’s nice and all, but too good to be true. You find out that the whole time, he was planning to kidnap you. You thought he would have killed you by now or done something else horrific, like sell you to a group of human traffickers. Instead, he’s on his knees in front of you, wiping the blood off your knees and bandaging them up with soft touches.

“Thank you for sitting still, did wonderfully.” He carefully pulls back down the bottom of your pants and puts your shoes on. You didn’t even realize he took off your shoes. And again, you definitely should not be feeling this way, but he’s being so gentle with you that it makes it hard to breathe. You want to kick yourself for feeling this way about a man that wanted to drug and take you away.

You watch his every move as he gets back up and walks to the bar, ready to take any harm he gives you. But he gets a bottle of water out of the fridge, opens it, and places it on the table in front of you. While you thought this was cute and gentlemanlike hours ago, you now know his true intentions and don’t want anything from him.

Even though your throat is burning and there’s a lingering taste of vomit in your mouth.

“Drink it, Y/N.”

You say nothing and look away, hoping that he’ll go away and never show his face again, or maybe the ground of the train will swallow you whole. That would be lovely. You hear Tangerine let out a frustrated sigh and you prepare for a smack or something physical.

“Y/N, please don’t make me ask you again. I understand you’re exhausted and have a ton of questions, but you’re not going back home. You’re coming with me and staying with me from now on. So just accept that and drink your water… please.” Despite Tangerine’s obvious frustration over the matter, his plan hadn’t gone his way, he completely understands where you are coming from. He knows what he’s doing and what he’s done is fucked up and deranged, but he couldn’t help himself. He knew if he ignored the urge then he definitely would have grabbed you off the street or dragged you out of your apartment into the trunk of his car.

And you do not deserve that. He wanted to ease you into his life, lure you in slowly and nicely, then pull the string and trap you in his cage. He wants to show you the wonderful and loving life he can give you, how much he can truly care for you. But with the whole door situation in carriage fourteen and you trying to leave, it’s all a mess now.

When he says this to you, you want to be angry and call him obscene names and ask him what gives him the right to take you like you're an object. But you are not that person, you were never that person to show your anger in a truly furious way. What you do when you become this emotional is cry, but with all the tears you’ve let out today, there is no more. You’re drained. And all the fight in you is gone.

You grab the water and drink from it. The cold liquid feels like heaven when going past your dry throat.

“You should sleep now, you’ve probably tired yourself out.” Tangerine says softly. You nod your head in complete defeat and close your eyes, hoping all of this was a nightmare and you’ll wake up on your old mattress in your tiny apartment. But you knew what had just happened was real.

The only thing you can truly wish for is that whatever he has planned for you, he doesn’t cause too much harm.

—-

What was your favorite part and what are you excited for in the next chapter??? Again, your comments really motivate me to keep writing!!🥰

#tangerine #tangerine fanfiction #tangerine x reader #tangerine imagine #tangerine x fem!reader #bullet train #bullet train imagine

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wrenwinchester · 2 months

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Poem three from Lazarus Rises (amongst other things) by Berklie Novak-Stolz (@icaruspendragon)

These words have been stuck in my head the past couple days. And I hadn’t read this poem in a while. I keep the book on my nightstand, a comfort that it’s there, but most of the time it goes untouched, not because I don’t love it, I have it highlighted and marked up the wazoo. But it’s so much easier to spend my time scrolling than to do other things I really want to do.

But anyway, I’m getting off track. This poem came back to me a couple days ago when I reblogged the post about which person in tfw 2.0 would be most likely to keep a diary. (X) and I used Berks words specifically for my analysis on Dean, because they felt right. And since then these words have been floating around my brain.

I have so much to say, so much I want or need to say, but in order to do so, I would have to pry myself open, lay myself bare in front of the people I care about most. And that’s. One of if not the most scary things I can imagine. Because the fear of being rejected for opening up. For saying what I feel and being shut down or told I’m not important. Or being made to feel like I’m not important again.

Emotions are hard, and finding words to explain them is even harder for me. It should be easy to explain that I’m happy or sad or why I’m feeling how i am but they all just get stuck in my throat. Clinging to my teeth and cutting my gums and my tongue. Choking me and taking over every ounce of entire being and it’s killing me.

I can’t get the words out, and I can’t pry them from my teeth. And I don’t even know what I would say if I could. I don’t know the words hiding behind my teeth. Hidden away from the world, and if I started talking I wouldn’t be able to stop. But I can’t start.

#poems #poetry #icaruspendragon #lazarus rises (amongst other things)#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #emotional #feelings #poetry book #there’s something wrong with me

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psychedelic-ink · 1 year

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𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬 𝑾𝑰𝑳𝑳 𝑨𝑩𝑰𝑫𝑬

** gif by the amazing @inklore who made this for me, love u bby thank you so much!!!

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

genre: smut, hurt/comfort

word count: 3.5k

summary: a retelling of the third episode but with you in it. Starts with Ellie reading Bill's letter.

warnings: spoilers for episode three, oral (giving), shower sex, piv, lots of emotions, hugging joel because he needs it, soft!joel

a/n: i'm still fucking crying tbh

“August 29, 2023,”

“If you find this please do not come into the bedroom. We left the window open so the house wouldn't smell. It will probably be a sight. I’m guessing you found this Joel. Because anyone else would’ve been electrocuted or blown up by one of my traps hehehehehehe Take anything you need. The bunker code is the same as the gate code but in reverse. Anyway, I never liked you. But still, it's like we're friends. Almost. And I respect you. So I’m gonna tell you something because you’re probably the only person who will understand. I used to hate the world and I was happy when everyone died. But I was wrong because there was one person worth saving. That’s what I did. I saved him. Then I protected him. That’s why men like you and me are here, we have a job to do. And god help any motherfuckers who stand in our way. I leave you all of my weapons and equipment. Use them to keep—”

Ellie’s voice trails off, making you look up from the corner of the wall your eyes were digging a hole in. She presses her lips together, eyes moving away from the heartbreaking letter. Joel’s eyes snap up, and without saying a word he snatches the letter from her hands and reads it for himself. You have the urge to come close and peer at the words as well, but you don’t dare. You zero in on his expression; the crease between his brows deepens, the corner of his lips pulling down. He swallows.

“Stay here,” he croaks, heading to the door.

It slams shut. Leaving you and Ellie inside, you turn to her, “What did it say?” you ask despite having a solid guess of what the answer might be.

Ellie doesn’t look up. Her stance is relaxed but the tension tolling over her shoulders is visible. She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth and answers, “Tess,” she says. “Bill was telling Joel to keep her safe,”

“Oh shit,” you whisper instinctively. Ellie nods.

“My thoughts exactly,”

You drop your bag, the sudden relief of it being gone making you feel lighter than ever. You know he’ll be mad if you try to talk about it. But you also don’t have it in you to leave him to wallow in his own self-pity. Joel is a protector. And from what you’ve heard, Bill was also one. Protector to protector. The message was abundantly clear and Joel had failed again and again. You hate to word it like that, but you know that’s what he’s thinking. He’s thinking about Sarah, about Tess. About Tommy who might be already dead. Now, he has to deal with you and Ellie. You, he found in Boston with Tess, covered in bruises and cuts, ration cards stolen and beaten to a pulp.

You turn to Ellie one last time, she’s already staring at you, it’s slightly unnerving. “Wait here, don’t touch anything that might kill you. Stock up,”

“Aye Aye Captain.”

And you leave.

The sun is shining, not a single cloud in the sky. Your eyes lock onto Joel as soon as you step over the threshold; his back turned, letter in hand, shoulders slumped. He looks around the neighborhood, then back down to the letter. He repeats the motion a couple of times as if he can’t believe what’s happening around him. You follow the path his eyes draw, looking around and back at him. You wonder if this neighborhood is similar to the one he used to live in.

“Hey,” you finally call out, your voice sounding scratchy. Joel flinches, he crumples the piece of paper and stuffs it in his pocket. “Are you okay?”

“We need to get out of here,” he answers, fingers tightening around the key, he heads to the garage. You follow.

When the two of you are inside, you see his resolve finally starting to crack. He pops the hood open, looks inside, and slams it shut. Pressing his palms into the smooth surface, his head falls, body shaking with his every breath. Your steps are silent as you approach him, your eyes trail over the roundness of his shoulders, the dip of his shirt.

You bite down the inside of your cheek, not stopping until you feel a sharp sting. Holding your breath, you place a hand over his shoulder, gently squeezing.

He flinches, it’s the most minimal reaction, something you only felt because you were physically touching him. “Is this okay?” you ask.

Joel nods, his swallow audible. “Yeah, it’s fine,”

“Can I hug you?”

He tenses under your fingertips. You don’t make a move until you feel the small nod he makes. “Sure,” his voice cracks. “If you want to,”

Some part of you wants to ask ‘do you?’ but of course, you don’t. Of all the months you’ve known him, he’s never once verbally asked anyone for anything. If you give it, he’ll take it. Your hand smooths a path down his arm, the other rounding his waist. You take a deep breath as you press your forehead between his shoulder blades, you feel the steadiness of his heartbeat.

Joel is still tense but less than before. Your fingers curl around his wrist, and your other hand lays right above his heart, nails softly biting into the fabric of his shirt.

Much to your surprise, his hand covers your own, thick fingers lacing into yours. It gives you courage. It gives you hope. You press further into him, hug him with your entire body hoping that the warmth you provide is enough to soothe him, even for a second.

“Sorry,” he grunts out, squeezing your hand, he brings it to his lips. His mustache tickles your skin, and he eases his lips into you, something between a kiss and a press of skin. “I don’t know what to do. I’m so angry all the time, there’s a weight on my chest that never leaves. You understand?” you nod and he continues. “I’m not like Bill. Not in the way he thought that I was. I’ve always been afraid—Even after…”

You feel him shaking his head, and your grip around him tightens. You do understand. You’ve felt it too, but he made it easier, help you lift that weight despite not being a man of many words, his presence gave you strength.

You want to stay like this forever. Holding him, feeling him. He’s incredibly warm.

“I’m not strong enough,” he lastly says, whispering your name right after. “I can’t keep you or Ellie safe,”

You feel the brush of lips over your knuckles. He allows you to cradle his scruffy cheek. It feels like a dream almost, which makes you acutely aware of how much he must be hurting right now. Your heart breaks.

“You are,” you whisper, fingers moving along his beard. “We’re going to stock up, find Tommy, and get Ellie to the fireflies. Then we’re done. Maybe we can even come back here,”

He scoffs, “How are you always like this?”

“Like what?”

“Hopeful,”

“It’s because I have you.”

You know he’s confused. You can feel it simmering under his skin, face heating up under your hand. He’s confused as to how something positive could be spurred from his existence. But it’s the truth. And he needs to hear it. He needs to know that it’s not only grief, and sadness, that follow his every footstep like a shadow. His strength gives those around him a chance to grow, a chance to be more human. Allowing them to live and relax while he carries the burden.

His methods might be brutal, and the words he says might cut deeper than a knife ever could, but it comes from a place of a twisted sense of love.

“We should head back inside,” he murmurs and pulls at your hand. “I’ll make the truck battery and we grab what we can while it charges,”

“Okay,” you take a step back, already feeling the ache of not feeling him against your person. “I’ll go check on Ellie.”

Joel doesn’t say a word, nor looks at you, he only nods.

You still can’t fucking believe it.

Hot fucking water.

You’re impatiently sitting in one of the guest bedrooms, Ellie is downstairs, already taken her shower and Joel is still inside, a soft slow of steam slithering its way out of the cracks of the door.

You sitting there and waiting for Joel to get out isn’t probably the most efficient thing to do but you can’t help it, you feel giddy. Your leg bobs up and down as you wait. The mere thought of having warm water rolling down your tattered skin makes your heart leap to your throat—

The running water stops and your eyes fly to the door. A couple of minutes later it opens. A wet, clothed, Joel makes his way through the steam. It looks mystical, almost.

He stops when he sees you.

“What are you doin’ here?”

“Waiting to use the shower,” you grin, not shying away from openly raking your eyes up and down his body. “Looking good, Miller,”

He rolls his eyes and pushes his hair back, your pussy bottoms out at the way his biceps bulge from underneath the flannel. “Well, I’m done now. Have fun,”

Joel moves towards the door and you jump up barely in time to catch his wrist. He raises an eyebrow, eyes dropping to meet yours. His skin is still damp, if you were a cat you’d be purring by now.

“Sit down,” you choke out. “I—fuck—This is hard. I want to—”

“Don’t hurt yourself tryin’ to come up with words,” he teases and you look at him completely flabbergasted. Joel Miller actually sounds amused. It’s a goddamn miracle. He twists his hand so it’s him holding you instead, locking the door, he moves towards the bed, urging you to follow him as if this was his idea from the get-go.

“What do you want?” he asks, sitting on the edge of the bed. You’re standing between his spread-out legs, a chill runs up your spine. He reaches out and touches your chin. “Tell me,”

Instead of telling, you slowly sink down to your knees, fingers moving to unbutton his jeans. He spreads his legs wider as you tug them down, you trail your fingers up his thighs, feeling the soft hairs tickling the pads of your fingers. Joel’s breath hitches, muscles tensing under your touch. He’s semi-hard when you take him into your mouth. His hips buck up as you swallow, swirling your tongue around the head.

He grows harder with every lick. Your chin strains as you attempt to swallow him whole. You manage to take only half of him, your eyes squeezing shut at the pressure. Pulling up, you gasp for air. You kiss the side and flatten your tongue against it. Joel cradles your head, thumbs drawing slow circles, he guides you back down to his cock, pushing you further down.

“That’s it,” he breathes out heavily. “Just a bit more, always so fuckin’ good to me,”

He forces your gaze up, and his cock twitches above your tongue. You whimper at the way he caresses your skin, so tender, so gentle. “You are too good to me,” he repeats his words from before. “I want you to know that. I ain’t the best with words but…yeah. I’ll try to make right by you,”

If it wasn’t for his cock in your mouth, you would’ve smiled. Your heart feels so full that it overflows, the muscles of your stomach taut as you sink down, taking him until you feel the soft curls against the base of your nose. Joel holds you there, flush against his pelvis, heavily breathing as you swallow around him again and again. Spit trails down the corner of your lips, nostrils flaring as it gets harder to breathe.

When he releases you, you pull away with a pop, your lungs burning at the sudden influx of oxygen. You wrap your fingers around the shaft and start stroking him, he moans loudly, hips thrusting into your hand.

“I want you to cum down my throat, Joel,” you purr. “Use me,”

And he does.

The more desperate he becomes, the more stifled his groans get. He thrusts into your mouth, the tip of his cock nudging the back of your throat. You can’t breathe, you can’t think. Joel fucks deeper into your mouth, balls heavy on your chin as his thrusts become shallow. Your eyes roll back, your consciousness teetering on the edge of blacking out completely.

With a moment of desperation, you cup your mound, rubbing at your clothed clit. The friction isn’t nearly enough and you let out a moan around his length, the reverberations making his hips stutter.

Joel spills down your throat with a grunt, he presses his molars together, rolling his hips into your mouth. You swallow greedily. He tastes bitter, but that doesn’t stop you from lifting yourself on your knees to push him deeper down. He hisses, cock pulsing between your lips.

“Jesus Christ,” he slurs, head falling back. “Jesus fuckin’ christ,”

He pulls you off with a sharp tug, looking down at you between heavy lids. “You good darlin’?”

You slowly nod, lips parting with a soft sigh. Your mind is in a deep haze of lust, your body aching to be touched, to be filled. You want to say something, anything, but you’re lost for words.

“Shit, alright come on— Up,” he grabs you by the arm, helping you to stand on your feet. You shoot him a confused look, which he answers promptly. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Is it alright if I help?”

It takes you a moment to understand the question and answer, “S-Sure.”

You stand in the bathroom naked with your arms crossed in front of your chest. Joel wraps his arms around you slowly, still hesitant to touch you. He rests his chin above your shoulder, his torso bare, you sigh blissfully at the skin-on-skin contact.

“What’s wrong?” he murmurs, moving his hand down your stomach. “I thought you were excited,”

“I am,” you shudder when he drags his nose up the column of your neck, his lips following the path back down.

“Do you want me to go?”

You shake your head, “No.”

He murmurs an ‘okay’ into your skin and gently nudges you forward so you get in. The tiles are cool and slippery. It feels absurd being in such a homey-feeling bathroom after so long. It smells like lavender.

You stand there, too stunned to move until Joel joins you. He stands behind you, leaning over, naked body pressing into yours, he turns on the faucet, playing with the degree of the water until it pours warm over your skin.

“How’s that?” he mutters.

“Good,” a giggle falls from your lips. “It feels so fucking good. Unbelievable,”

Joel starts washing your body, the touch of his hands has fear behind them. A fear that you might vanish at any second. His fingers trail over every inch of your skin, exploring every curve and valley. You close your eyes, relishing in the sensation of having him this close. He washes your hair, taking his time, massaging your scalp. He moves down to your back, running his hands over your spine, kneading out the tension from your muscles.

His hands move to your front, lingering over your breasts, sending shivers down your spine. He takes his time, leaving no spot untouched. The water cascades over your bodies, swallowing you and hiding you both from the tainted world outside. Wet lips trail the slope of your shoulders, fingers slipping between your folds. He drags them between your slit, circles your aching clit, and repeats. Your head falls over his shoulder, your soft moans drowned by the sound of water.

Joel holds your chin and turns you until you’re facing him, he closes the distance, molding his lips into yours. His wet tongue follows the seam of your lips and you open up for him, he moves his tongue over yours, licking the inside of your mouth. He swallows your moans and whines as you start to grind down against his palm.

His tongue presses deeper, and your legs tremble. He grinds the heel of his palm into the sensitive bundle of nerves, groaning into your mouth when slick gushes into his hand. His cock lays above the curve of your ass, hot and hard.

He grinds into you, his cock pressing insistently between your cheeks. His hands grab your hips, pulling you closer to him, and his mouth moves across your shoulder and neck. His lips find your ear.

“Is this okay?” he asks, his breath heavy and hot against your neck.

“It is. I want to feel you Joel, every inch of you,”

His hands reach up, cupping your breasts, massaging gently. His thumbs circle your nipples and they harden beneath his touch, your breath catching in your throat. You roll back into him, your body craving more of his touch— of him.

Joel’s hands move down your body, his fingers tracing every inch. “Turn around for me,”

You move without hesitation. He takes a step back, letting his hands trail over you. You take a step forward, closing the gap between you and he takes you in his arms, his mouth finding yours. His tongue slips between your lips and you moan into his mouth, lost in him.

You allow your own hands to explore his body as well. He’s firm, arms strong and thick, hips narrowing as your fingers trace a path down within the water droplets that cling to his skin.

Affectionately, you caress his stomach. You gently press the pads of your fingers into the soft flesh, loving the way his chest heaves.

The water continues to pour down, creating a soothing background noise. He pushes his cock between your legs, moving through the slickness and sending sparks of pleasure through your body.

You move together, bodies entwined and breaths mingling. He lets out a low moan as you press your hips against his. His hands move to your back, his fingers tracing the line of your spine. He pulls you closer, his lips claiming yours again and again and again— He moans as he fucks your thighs. The bulbous head of his cock catching against your clit, the corners of your vision fade to black. Your head buzzes.

Joel continues to roll and grind, cock slipping between your legs with ease. During it, he slips into you, stretching you enough that the pain easily bleeds into the pleasure. He holds you, cock twitching as your flutter around him. You’re dripping and making a mess of him, he feels it. You know that he does by the way he bites into your skin, his growl vibrating across your body.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet,” he says, licking the water off your skin. “Feels so good inside—Your pussy feels so fuckin’ good. I don’t think it’ll ever be enough,”

“S-Shit Joel,”

Your breath hitches in your throat, your hips meeting his with each thrust. He holds your gaze, fucking himself deeper, harder into you. Pleasure licks the bottom of your spine, heat rolling in your stomach. The water washes away the sweat but you still burn. Joel’s hand moves up to the back of your neck, his hand big enough to press his fingers into both sides of your throat.

You nearly go limp at his hold, knees bucking at the pressure. But you trust him, and you aren’t at all surprised when he keeps you up, pounding into you as his lips slither down your neck.

He moves his hand lower, skimming down your stomach and cupping your sex. His thumb circles your clit, and you gasp as wave after wave of pleasure wash over you.

You’re teetering on the edge, ready to come undone, when Joel suddenly pulls out. His fingers don’t stop, pinching your clit. You cry out his name as your orgasm rips through you, he holds you close as your body jolts. Your body is left confused, empty, yet still clenching as if Joel’s cock is still inside.

It’s so intense that tears roll down your cheeks, pleasure ripples over your skin, unfiltered whimpers falling from your lips. Your gaze drops to his cock, your eagerness to please loud in your mind. You notice that he’d already came, seed mixing with the water.

“I got you don’t worry,” he mutters, lips brushing your forehead. “You’re alright, you’re with me,”

You blink up, eyes finding Joel’s. A lazy smile spreads across your face, the water beating over your skin now cold. “Was that good?” you ask, kissing the bald spot on his chin.

“You know it was,” when you give him a knowing look, he sighs. “It was good, thank you, darlin’”

“I’m glad to hear that,” you grin, hands moving up his arms. “Now let’s get cleaned up one last time and get the hell out of here.”

#joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller #tlou fanfiction #tlou fanfic #hbo the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader

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bellaireland1981 · 1 year

Text

Starting Over | 1

Summary: You come home to work to find your husband of three years in bed with your supposed best friend. It’s the wake up call you finally needed to take your two year old daughter and get the hell out of Texas. With nowhere to go you head to your big brother in San Diego. The sagger squad takes you under their wings, and shows you what having a family means. You get a fresh start... will you find your happily ever after?

Characters: Jake “hangman” Seresin x Sister! Reader, Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Seresin! Reader (Eventually), Hangman x Phoenix (eventually) , Adorable OC Gracie! The Dagger squad

Word Count: 9457 ( I have zero chill)

Warnings: Angst, cheating husband, emotional abuse, eventual fluff, smut in later chapters, Sweet uncle Jake, Adorable Rooster with a toddler... if I miss any please let me know.

A/N: This will be another series. I don’t own the characters or storyline for Top Gun Maverick. All OC’s are mine. I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR ANYONE TO COPY OR REPOST MY WORK TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM! DON’T STEAL! Reblogs, likes and comments ALWAYS welcomed. THANK YOU @waywardodysseys as always for reading over my work and helping me flush out ideas!!

Taglist is open!

Your marriage was over. You’d come home early from work to find that your husband of three years had been cheating on you with the person you thought was your best friend. They didn’t even try to defend themselves, or cover up what they’d done. No excuses were made. Without even stopping to think, or to call anyone you’d simply walked out of the room, headed to your daughter’s room and an autopilot started shoving clothes and other necessities into a bag. While you packed your husband managed to pull his pants up long enough to come into your daughter’s room and make sure to let you know every way in which the affair was your fault, not his. He made sure to drill it home that you were inadequate and had you been enough he wouldn’t have had to step out. You paused to stare at him blankly. His words sinking in.

“Well then, I’ll make it easy for you, you piece of shit.” You said, firmly, finally finding your voice, “Consider the marriage over.You are now free to fuck whatever whore you want to. Not that being married actually meant anything to you. You won’t have to worry about being a father either, not that you were much of one anyway. Gracie and I will be just fine on our own.”

“You know I never wanted a kid anyway, Y/N.” He spat, “Only knocked you up to shut you up.”

“Thank you for making this so much easier.” You said. You hurried to grab the rest of what you thought Gracie would need. Your sweet little girl was at the sitter’s, blissfully unaware that her whole world was about to explode. At two you knew she wouldn’t remember any of this when she got bigger. You would do whatever you had to do in the divorce to ensure you got full and sole custody of your child. You wouldn’t allow her to be tainted by your soon to be ex husband.

Not even caring about any of your own belongings, nothing seeming important enough to go back into your shared bedroom, you gathered your purse and Gracie’s belongings, and slammed out of the house. After throwing everything into the trunk of your late model Toyota Camry you jumped into the driver’s side and backed out of the drive. You knew it would all hit you once the numbness wore off and that you’d probably be an emotional mess but all you prayed it wouldn’t be until you were as far from your hometown as possible.

You knew your parents would be of no help or comfort. Your dad was an asshole and your mom drank to numb the pain of being married to said asshole. Your only other family was your big brother, who was currently stationed in San Diego at Top Gun. With no other options or ideas, you knew that once you’d picked up Gracie, that’s where the two of you would head.

It was the middle of the night the next day by the time you pulled into your brother’s driveway. You hadn’t called to let him know you were coming, simply wanting to keep driving, putting as much distance between you and your hometown and broken marriage as you could. The further you got from Texas the lighter you felt, the easier you could breathe. Gracie had been amazing on the trip, seeming to know that her momma needed to get them to a better place.

Turning off the car, you quietly unbuckled and got out, stretching your stiff muscles. Knowing your brother it was a distinct possibility he had company spending the night, and you hoped he wouldn’t be mad by the sudden appearance of his little sister and niece on his doorstep. The two of you had always been close growing up, just you against the world. It sucked when he’d left for the Academy and then flight school, but he’d made sure to always make sure you had a way to contact him and he was there whenever he could be.

You carefully got Gracie out of the car, cradling her sleeping form as you made your way up the steps to the door. Juggling her in your arms to free a hand, you knocked as loudly as you dared so as not to wake the sleeping toddler.

The front porch light flipped on and you could hear the lock click before the front door opened and your brother was in front of you, hair disheveled from sleep, eyes squinting against the light of the porch.

“Y/N?” He said, voice rough from sleep, “Tulip, what are you doin’ here? Is everything ok? Is Gracie ok?”

“Jakey…” You choked out, all of the emotions from the last 24 hours bubbling over, tears starting to spill down your cheeks.

Jake carefully pulled you and Gracie into his arms, embracing you carefully, concern etched on his face. He didn’t know what had caused his baby sister to show up on his doorstep, but he knew whatever it was, wasn’t good.

He gently pulled you into the house, closing the door quietly behind you, locking it once more and shutting off the porch light.

“Here, let me take Gracie” He said gently, “I’ll lay her in the guest room and put pillows between her and the floor. Grab a drink or whatever you need or want from the kitchen and I’ll be right back.”

You blindly walked to the kitchen pulling out a bottle of water from the fridge for yourself and one for Jake, not knowing if he’d be thirsty. You walked back to the living room and melted down onto the couch, pulling your knees up and resting your head on them, your arms wrapped around yourself. You heard Jake come back into the living room shortly after, carefully sitting down on the couch next to you and pulling you close so you were resting against his side.

“What happened, Sweetheart?” he asked, “Where’s Trent?”

“I wasn’t sure where else to go…” You whispered, “I’m sorry for just showing up on your doorstep in the middle of the night.”

“Tulip, you can show up on my doorstep anytime, day or night.” Jake said, pulling you tighter against him. “But I’m not going to lie, you’ve got me pretty worried right now.”

“I’m sorry, Jakey.” You said, tears running down your cheeks again, unable to keep them in check.

“Sweetheart, stop apologizing.” He said, gently. “Talk to me. What happened?”

“I came home from work early yesterday… “ You started, staring straight ahead at the wall. “Trent had apparently also gotten done with work early as he was already home… in bed… with Stephanie.”

“Fuck.” Jake said, “I’m so sorry, Tulip.” He wasn’t sure what else to say, if there was anything to say. He knew that you knew he’d never liked Trent. Didn’t think he was good enough for his baby sister. Not many would be considered good enough…if anyone at all. “What happened when you found him?”

“They didn’t even try to hide it or apologize or offer any fake excuses.” You said, numbly adding “Trent said it’s my fault… I wasn’t enough to keep him happy. He said he never even wanted Gracie and that he just got me pregnant to shut me up.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill him.” Jake said coldly, “He doesn’t deserve you or Gracie. I’ll make sure he never sees either of you again. Nobody hurts my girls.”

“I didn’t figure mom or dad would be of any help.” You whispered, all energy and fight completely drained from you. You were with your big brother and knew you were safe to fall apart. “Can Gracie and I stay with you until I get on my feet again? I can’t go back. There’s nothing left there for us.”

“You don’t even have to ask, Sweetheart.” He replied, “You both have a home with me whenever you need it, however long you need it and wherever I am. Go on up and crawl in with Gracie. Get some sleep. We will sort everything out in the morning. I can run out and get whatever we need.”

“I only grabbed stuff for Gracie.” You admitted, “I couldn’t bring myself to step foot into my bedroom with her still in my bed. In hindsight, leaving all of my clothes was probably stupid.”

“Nope.” He replied, “Gives me all the more reason to spoil my baby sister. I’ve got tomorrow off anyway. I’ll call in some help and we’ll get it sorted.”

Jake stood up and pulled you up, leading you to the room he’d put Gracie to bed in and hugged you goodnight. He made mental notes of everything you’d need and decided he’d need to enlist some help tomorrow as he made his way back to his own room and fell back into bed. One thing he knew for certain, he’d do whatever he could to make sure nobody hurt his baby sister or sweet niece ever again.

The next morning you woke up to the smell of coffee and food wafting into the room, and the sound of your daughter giggling. You smiled, rubbing your eyes. Every opportunity Jake had over the last two years he’d spent with you and Gracie either visiting in Texas or flying you both out to see him. Gracie thought Uncle Jake hung the moon and stars and had him wrapped around her tiny pinky. You knew he’d already hatched a plan to start spoiling your daughter.

You quickly used the bathroom next to the guest room, before heading to the kitchen. Jake had Gracie sitting on the counter playing with measuring cups while he made breakfast. There was a plate of pancakes already made and he had moved onto eggs and bacon.

“Morning Tulip.” He greeted you with a bright smile, his dimples on full display. “Coffee is in the pot. There’s creamer and sugar if you want it. Breakfast is almost ready. My favorite little princess here has been keeping me company.”

“Hi Mommy!” Gracie beamed, happy and oblivious to the upheaval.

“I see that. Hi Baby Girl!” You replied, kissing her head before pulling a mug out of the cupboard and heading to the coffee pot. Jake had given you one of his old Navy shirts and a pair of cotton shorts to wear to sleep in. You had to roll the waistband over several times in order to make them fit without falling to your knees. Clothes and essentials were your top priority today. “Thank you, Jakey.”

“Sweetheart you’ve got to stop thanking me.” He replied, “We’re family. As far as I’m concerned you and Princess Gracie are the only real family I’ve got. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you two.”

You offered him a small smile, returning your attention to making your coffee. When he’d finished making breakfast he made a plate of food and pulled Gracie from the counter to sit on his lap and eat breakfast with him, sharing his food with the toddler.

“She can sit with me, Jake.” You offered, “You cooked, you should get to enjoy your breakfast.”

“I am enjoying my breakfast.” He answered, blowing a raspberry on Gracie’s cheek and making her erupt in belly giggles. “The circumstances for y’all being here suck, but I’ve missed my two favorite girls. I’m really happy you’re here.”

“Despite everything that’s happened, I’m happy we’re too, Bubs.” You replied, offering him the first real smile since arriving. “We’ve missed you too, haven’t we Gracie Girl?”

“Wuv Unko Jakey!” Gracie exclaimed, squirming around to plan a very sticky kiss on her favorite uncle’s cheek. You laughed, getting up to grab a wet napkin so he could wipe the syrup from his face.

“Unko Jakey loves you too Princess G!” Jake replied not minding the sticky kiss from his favorite little girl.

As you finished breakfast, you cleared the table. You got Gracie occupied playing with some clean pots on the floor while you tackle the dishes and kitchen clean up. You sent Jake off to the shower, not letting him argue about who got clean up duties.

Once the kitchen was set to rights again, and all the dishes were done, you scooped up Gracie and headed to the guestroom to dig through the bag Jake had already brought in and got her changed. You dreaded putting on the dirty clothes from traveling but it was literally all you had.

Jake, finished in the shower, and fully dressed, reclaimed Gracie from you, telling you to jump in the shower and get ready. He’d snuck your clothes to the wash last night after sending you to bed and got up to put them in the dryer earlier that morning. You had never been more grateful for being blessed with an amazing brother.

When you emerged from the bathroom, showered, hair down and clean clothes on, you almost felt like a new person.

“It’s amazing what a shower can do for someone’s spirit and mental well being.” You said, walking into the living room.

Jake had Gracie on the couch with him watching cartoons while he’d been on his phone texting his adopted family, the Daggers, for reinforcements. He knew the two of you would need help getting furniture and supplies, getting everything set up, and supervising a very active toddler. Rooster had surprisingly been the first to reply, saying he’d be there in twenty minutes. Mav replied back saying to let him know when you need help with getting stuff set up and he’d come over. Phoenix immediately had offered babysitting duties, saying the other guys couldn’t be trusted. Coyote and Payback replied they’d be over to help assemble and move stuff and would bring pizza and beer for everyone.

You and Gracie were his only blood family, but he had secured a spot in a bigger family that he knew would always have his back. Despite the rocky start, he hoped they knew he’d always have their back too.

“I’m glad you’re energized again, Tulip!” Jake replied, “Because we’ve got our work cut out for us today. I’ve called in help.”

As if on cue, there was a knock at the door, and two more car doors slamming. Jake jumped up to open the door.

“Thanks for coming.” Jake said, opening the door wide to allow his friends into the house.

“Of course, man.” A very tall, attractive man with a mustache replied, stepping in. He smiled at Gracie who was now peaking over the side of the couch, curious about the new people. Her green eyes that matched your and Jake’s watchful eyes. “You must be Princess Gracie.”

“The one and only!” Jake confirms, beaming like the proud uncle he is. “Gracie, this is my friend Rooster. Can you come say hi?”

Gracie, who was normally very shy, carefully crawled down off the couch and walked over to her uncle. She peaked her head around his leg, staring up at Rooster.

He crouched down closer to your daughter’s level, giving her time to warm up to him.

“Hi, Sweetheart.” He said, gently, a warm smile on his face. “I’m Bradley, or Rooster, you pick. Can I help you and your Uncle Jake set you up a princess room?

“Hi Woosta” Gracie greeted him, a smile on her face. “Pwincess Woom Pwease.”

“You got it, sweetheart!” He promised, winking at her before standing back up.

“Rooster, this is my baby sister Y/N” Jake said making the introductions, “Tulip, this is Bradley Bradshaw, or Rooster.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N” Bradley said, “I feel like we all already know you though from the amount Jake talks about you.”

“Uh oh.” You replied, cringing, “Maybe don’t believe everything he says. It’s nice to meet you too, Bradley.”

“Hey, I only ever talk about how amazingly wonderful my baby sister is.” Jake argues in mock indignation. “And how adorable and smart my little Princess G is!”

“He’s telling the truth.” A new, female voice added, stepping into the house. Followed by another man.

“Phoenix” Jake said, smiling brightly at her, “You’re a lifesaver, Darlin’”

“Hey! I made it over here first, am I just chopped liver now?” Bradley pouted, playfully. You could already see you’d like these people a lot. Something in the way your brother looked and talked to Phoenix intrigued you too. His whole demeanor changed when she’d walked in…he became lighter…almost brighter as soon as she’d stepped foot inside the house. It was making sense now too why she was the only one you’d ever heard a lot about from your brother. You made a mental note to investigate that further later.

“We all know this mission would be a disaster if you two are in charge.” Phoenix laughed, then turned towards you “I’m Natasha Trace, or Phoenix.”

“Nice to meet you, Natasha.” You replied, smiling, “I’ve actually heard a lot about you too.” Pink creeped over Jake’s ears and cheeks when you busted him out.

“And this is Bob.” Jake said, diverting attention, “He’s Phoenix’s backseater, and generally the one that keeps the rest of us out of too much trouble.”

“Well that’s got to be a full time job, Bob.” You laughed, “Just keeping Jake out of trouble would be a lot of work.”

“They have their moments.” Bob laughed, “It’s nice to meet you, Y.N.”

Gracie tugged at Jake’s pant leg, looking up at her uncle. Jake swung her up into his arms, holding her close. Gracie leaned into whisper loudly, in his ear.

“She pwetty, Unco Jakey.” She said, peaking at Phoenix from under her very long lashes.

Jake smiled widely, turning his face to whisper back in Gracie’s ear, “She sure is, Princess G.”

Phoenix smiled at your daughter, blushing at the interaction. She didn’t quite know how to handle Jake’s response.

“Ok, so we need a game plan.” Bob said, “We’ve got a room to make over, furniture to buy, and let’s be honest, we probably need to childproof this house.”

“And Y/N needs a new wardrobe.” Jake added, “And my Princess G probably needs some clothes too.”

“Jake.” You piped up, “You're not remodeling or making over your house to accommodate us. We just need a few things. Gracie and I are fine sharing a bed.”

“Nope. I said what I said.” He replied stubbornly, “The small room next to the guest room acting as an office right now is getting moved to the garage. Princess G will get that as her princess room. You can change, add to, or take out anything from the guest room to make it your own. We need a high chair, or booster at least, I need an extra car seat for my truck, we need a stroller…preferably a jogger so my favorite girl can go running with me… what am I missing?”

“TOYS!” Bradley said looking around at the room, “Princess Gracie needs toys!”

“Yes!” Jake said, smacking his head, “We need toys.”

“Jacob!” You said, eyes wide, exasperated with your brother.

“Y/N!” He tossed back, eyes stubbornly locking on your own before softening, “Tulip, y’all have been through hell. You’re getting a fresh start here. I wasn’t there when it all went to hell. Let me do this.”

“Fine.” You relented, shoulders sagging, “You win.”

“OK! So…a plan.” Phoenix said, “How about Y/N and I take Gracie and go get clothes and all of that kinda stuff. Then we can take Gracie to my apartment to nap while you all go get paint and furniture and that kind of stuff and start the room makeover.”

“You ok with that, Tulip?” Jake asked, making sure you were comfortable.

“Yeah, as long as you’re all ok with giving up your day off for us?” You replied, glancing at your brother’s friends.

“Absolutely” Bradley assured, his warm smile and honey gaze making warmth rush over you. “We take family pretty seriously in this squad, Y/N.”

“Rooster’s right.” Phoenix replied, stepping closer Gracie in Jake’s arms, tapping her playfully on her button nose and making her giggle, “and this cutie just inherited a whole lot of uncles and an aunt to spoil her rotten.”

Tears burned behind your eyes, suddenly overcome with emotions. The last three years of your marriage the only friend that your douchebag husband had allowed you to have was Stephanie, isolating you from everyone else. You now understood how she had made the cut. He’d even tried to drive you apart from your brother but was satisfied in just knowing he was stationed away from you so wasn’t a threat. Looking back, you should have seen the red flags, realized what his plan had been. Hindsight really was a bitch.

Phoenix sensed you were on the verge of breaking down. She turned, taking Gracie from Jake’s arms, your daughter going straight to her.

“Let’s go shopping and get you and Mommy some new princess clothes ok?” She said, “Uncle Jake will get your room all pretty for you and find you some new toys!”

“Yay! Toys!” Gracie cheered, “Mommy! We go bye bye!”

You laughed, blinking back the tears, choking down the emotions and memories.

“Ok, Baby Girl.” You said, “Let’s go bye bye.”

“Bye bye Unco Jakey, Woosta, and BOB” Gracie said, waving.

“Bye Princess G!” Jake said, blowing her a kiss. “Be good for Mommy and Nix ok”?

“Ok!” She agreed, “Wuv you!”

“Love you too!” He smiled at her, “Have fun, Tulip. No worries today, ok? We’ll work it all out.”

“Thank you.” You said, “All of you. Jakey please don’t go overboard, I love you.”

“Love you too, Tulip.” He replied, not promising to not go overboard.

“Let’s go get supplies and call in the rest of the Daggers.” Bradley suggested, “We’re gonna needs all hands on deck to get this done today.”

You opted to take your car since the car seat was already in the back. You quickly buckled Gracie in before getting into the driver’s side. Phoenix gave you directions to the nearest mall that would have the best options for clothing and stuff for Gracie. You’d hit up a Target on the way back to get the rest of the stuff you’d need.

Once at the mall, you rented one of the strollers since you’d left Gracie’s back in Texas. You were actually surprised your phone hadn’t been blowing up with calls or texts from Trent since you’d been gone almost 48 hours by this point. You knew it was only a matter of time.

“Let’s start with finding stuff for you.” Phoenix suggested. “I think you deserve a bit of a pick me up, Y/N/”

“It’s been one hell of a couple of days.” You acknowledged. “Shit, I no called no showed at work… won’t be getting a positive referral from them I suppose.”

“I’m sure we can find you something here without any reference from them.” She replied “and besides, most would be understanding under the circumstances.”

“Probably.” You agreed. “So… are you and Jake close? He’s talked briefly about the team, but really has talked about you the most.”

“We’re… complicated.” She replied, “I’ve known him since the Academy. We’ve always been competitive with one another. He pushes me to be the best pilot I can be… I’ve seen a few sides to Hangman, but I honestly can’t figure out which is the real him.”

“My brother is complicated.” You agreed, “He’s always been guarded with people…we kinda had to be growing up in our house. He is fiercely loyal to those who make it past the outer shell. I know my brother can be… a lot. He can be cocky and sometimes comes across as arrogant. I imagine that’s more in line with the “Hangman” you guys tend to see. Inside though… Jake…. He’s the guy you saw at the house today. He’s an amazing Uncle, protector, and fun loving guy. He is the best brother I could have ever asked for. He’s the guy who would do anything for his family…for his friends. He’s the one that would disobey orders and fly off a carrier to save his friends. He’s the Jake that lit up as soon as you walked into the house today. Happy that you came, happy that you were there.”

“The more I see of Jake… outside of work… and when he drops the front of Hangman…the more I genuinely like him.” She admitted, “Your brother is beyond good looking…more good looking that he has a right to be… he’s got lots of women turning their heads for him when we’re at the Hard Deck, Y/N, women a whole lot prettier than me…I don’t think he’d ever see me like that.”

“I thought you had to have pretty decent vision to be an aviator” You asked.

“I mean, mostly, yes… glasses are allowed… why?” She replied, confused.

“I just didn’t realize they let you fly if you were clearly blind.” You shrugged, smirking at her. “Because, you, Natasha… are blind.”

She laughed, ducking her head, before looking back up, “Let’s get you outfitted with some new clothes.”

Several stores and more money than you’d spent on clothing in probably your lifetime later, you had enough clothes to get you started. Phoenix had talked you into a few cute sundresses, saying you never knew when you’d need them. You’d also gotten several pairs of jeans and shorts, tops, bras, panties, a swimsuit and shoes. With your wardrobe squared away, you’d moved onto finding a few more outfits for Gracie and sandals before leaving the mall.

You decided to stop for a quick lunch before heading to Target to get toiletries, diapers, booster seat, new car seat, stroller and toys. Jake had texted while you were out telling you not to buy a bed for Gracie because he’d already found one.

Gracie ended up passing out in the car seat while you drove to Phoenix’s apartment. Thankfully hers was on the first floor so no carrying a sleeping toddler up stairs. She unlocked her door and led you to the bedroom where you laid your daughter on the bed, placing pillows around her in case she rolled.

After getting Gracie settled the two of you sat down on the couch with glasses of iced tea. Your phone dinged with an incoming message. Assuming it was Jake you pulled your phone out, opening your message.

Trent: You’ve had your tantrum. Get your ass home.

You had to fight down the bile rising in your throat while reading the text.

“Everything ok, Y/N?” Phoenix asked, seeing all the color drain from your face.

“It’s Trent.” You admitted.

“You don’t have to respond to him until you’re ready.” She said, “Hell you can ignore his ass completely and direct all communication through lawyers.”

“I can’t afford a lawyer, Nat.” You whispered, tears springing to your eyes. “What am I going to do?”

“Hey,” She said gently, grasping your hand in comfort, “Between all of us, we’ll get it figured out. There are lots of options. In the meantime, don’t engage with him… save any and all texts and voicemails.”

“Can I tell you something I haven’t admitted to anyone else?” You asked, knowing you could trust her.

“Of course, Y/N.” She assured you, “You can talk to me about anything. Whatever it is will stay between us.”

“It’s pathetic that after everything else that happened the last three years, it was him cheating with someone I thought was my best friend that woke me up and fueled me to leave.” You said, “But in reality it should have been the times he called me worthless, told me that I was lucky he felt sorry for me and married me because nobody else would want me…. Told me I was useless as a wife and mother. Isolated me from all my friends… made me dependent upon him. Convinced me on some level that Jake left because he didn’t want to be bothered with me…that he was lucky to be away from me.”

“Fuck.” She said, blowing out a breath. “There’s a lot to unpack there… Most importantly though, he was wrong. So. Fucking. Wrong… about all of it. You cannot blame yourself for anything he did or said. I know it’s harder said than done. If nothing else, you owe it to Gracie to show her that her mom is a badass, strong woman who knows her worth. Trent.. That his name? He is a spineless worthless piece of crap who doesn’t deserve to lick the dirt from your boots…if you had any… and he sure as shit doesn't deserve to be a dad to that sweet girl in there.”

“Thank you, Nat.” You said, tears streaming down your face. It felt really good to confide in someone. You knew if you told Jake he’d probably fly his f-18 to Texas and kill Trent. You also knew though that you would have to talk to your brother at some point because you had a feeling the divorce would be ugly. “I guess maybe I’m just meant to be single… I kinda suck at choosing the right man.”

“How about this…” She said, “When the time comes, you’re ready to get back out there and date… you let me and maybe Jake weed out the losers and help you find a good one.”

“If it were up to Jake, I’d remain single for life.” You said, chuckling. “He’s always been a little overprotective… I actually didn’t get to really date or get serious with a guy until he’d left for the Academy… hence Trent.”

“Let’s not tell him that.” Phoenix said, “One thing I do know about your brother is that he takes on guilt very easily when he shouldn’t. Blames himself for stuff that is absolutely not in his control.”

“Yeah…” You agree, he definitely did blame himself for things he had no blame in.

Your phone dinged again, several times in succession.

Trent: Grow the fuck up, Y/N. Bring the brat and your ass home.

Trent: You will regret running off. I’ll make sure you and the brat don’t see your precious brother again.

Trent: Are you fucking someone else? Did you run off to whore yourself to someone stupid enough to take you in?

Trent: ANSWER THE FUCKING TEXTS Y/N!

Having not gotten a response, your phone suddenly started ringing. Seeing it was Trent you immediately sent it to voicemail.

“Jesus” Phoenix said, “I’m going to text Jake and tell him to text or call me if they need anything. Turn your phone off, Y/N. You don’t need that stress.”

Knowing she was probably right you went ahead and turned off your phone and tucked it into your back pocket. You sighed, head falling back against the couch in utter defeat. Everything was catching up to you, and you were exhausted. Deciding to take a breather while you could, you closed your eyes, telling yourself it was just for a moment. Your body took advantage of you letting your guard down and you drifted off to sleep.

Phoenix called Jake, getting up to move to the kitchen where she hopefully wouldn’t wake you up.

“Hey, Nix” Jake said, “You ladies have fun shopping?”

“Yeah” She replied, “Gracie and Y/N are actually sleeping right now. Gracie passed out in the car and Y/N just fell asleep on the couch… Jake, I had her turn her phone off. You might want to take her and get her added to your plan and change her number. That douchebag sent her a lot of nasty texts then started calling her. She got really pale and had a broken look in her eyes.”

“FUCK!” He yelled, “I swear, I’m gonna kill that guy, Nix. I’ve always fucking hated him but I love my sister more and didn’t want to lose her.”

“She’s scared she doesn’t have options.” She said, “I told her we’d figure it out together. I’ll start searching for lawyers and stuff while she is sleeping. We will head back that way when they wake up.”

“I won’t let anything else happen to them.” Jake promised, “Did she say if he physically hurt her or Gracie?”

“I know your sister enough just in the little time I’ve spent with her to know that had he laid a finger on Gracie Y/N would have killed him.” Phoenix said, “I don’t know if he got physical with her though. Talk to her… she’s gonna need you.”

“She’ll always have me, Nix.” He said, “My sister and Gracie have always and will always come first.”

“You’re a good guy, Jake.” Phoenix admitted. “We should be back soon. Do we need to get food or drinks or anything on the way?”

“No, Coyote and Payback are bringing pizzas and beer. I already have juice and milk for Gracie, and sodas for everyone too.” Jake said.

“OK. See you soon.” She said.

“Thanks Nix.” He said before hanging up.

Phoenix grabbed her laptop and started to look for lawyers in the area that specialize in family law.

Jake’s POV

He had to take several deep breaths after hanging up with Phoenix to get himself back in check. It really was taking everything in him not to fly back to Texas and beat the living tar out of Trent. The fact that his sister and niece needed him was the only thing keeping him there.

“Everything ok, man?” Bradley asked, see how upset Jake was. “Did something happen while the girls were shopping?”

“Phoenix said Trent started sending harassing texts and calls to Y/N.” Jake replied, “Said she was visibly shaken by them. I swear to God if I ever find out he laid a finger on my sister I will make him wish he’d never been born.”

“What’s important now is that Y/N and Gracie are here, Jake.” Bradley said, “They’ve got you… and all of us to protect them now. He can’t touch them again.”

“I never liked him. He was too smarmy. Too smooth.” Jake said, “Y/N just said I was being overprotective when I told her I didn’t think he was good for her. I should have pushed harder… tried harder to protect her.”

“Jake.” Bradley said, putting his hand on Jake’s shoulder, “Had you pushed harder you might have pushed her away completely and then she wouldn’t have had you to come to now. You can’t change or fix the past. You can be there for her now and help her get back on her feet…. Help her to feel like she’s in control again.”

“Thanks Rooster.” Jake said, sighing. He knew his friend was right. All he could do now was help his sister get her footing back. “You’re right… My sister is stubborn as hell. She’s also the strongest woman I’ve ever known. She just needs help remembering she’s a badass Seresin.”

“There ya go.” Bradley laughed, “Now, come on… let’s finish Princess G’s room. Mav and Penny are on their way with the decor. Paint should be dry with all the fans we have going, and Bob said that the rest of the reinforcements just showed up to help assemble some furniture.”

“I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you all for this.” Jake said, “Seriously, this means the world to me…to my sister.”

“Hangman…we’re a family now, Man, remember?” Bradley asked, “It’s what we do.”

“Alright!” Bob said, coming back into the house, trailed by the rest of the team “Reinforcements. Operation Build a Princess room is a go!”

With Bob taking over, directing everyone, they managed to get all of the bedroom furniture assembled for Gracie, complete with the canopy bed Jake found at the local furniture store, in no time. They just finished moving it all into the room and setting it up when Mav and Penny arrived with the bedding, curtains, a few wall hangings and a princess lamp.

“Wow.” Jake said taking in everything they picked up, “You guys were thorough.”

“Amelia went through a princess stage when she was little so I’ve had practice.” Penny said, “It was nice shopping for a little girl again. It’s been awhile.”

“I was just along to carry bags and keep her company.” Mav admitted laughing, “Everything going ok? I can get you a few more days off if you need them, Jake.”

“Thanks Mav.” He replied, “I might need a couple of days to help her get the divorce going…and get her a new fucking phone number.”

“Consider it done.” Mav replied, “And let us know if there is anything we can do to help.”

“You’ve all already done so much.” Jake replied, “I’m really grateful for all of you.”

“Go get the living room cleared of the boxes and tools.” Penny said, “I’ll finish this room for Gracie.”

Your POV

After waking up on Phoenix’s couch you apologized for falling asleep. She quickly reassured you it was completely fine. Not long after, Gracie woke from her nap too. You changed her diaper before you filled a sippy cup with watered down juice, handing it to her as you put her shoes back on.

“I called Jake while you were sleeping and just let him know your phone was off and why. I didn’t share anything else with him though.” Phoenix assured you. “I told him we’d come back as soon as you and Gracie woke up.”

“Thanks, Nat.” You smiled, “I promise, as soon as I have a chance, I’ll talk to Jake. I don’t want you to have to keep secrets. It’s not fair to you. I haven’t been able to have friends for awhile and apparently the one I did have wasn’t really a friend… I could really use a friend.”

“You’ve got one.” She promised, hugging you tightly.

“Thank you” You said, hugging her back. “We should probably go make sure they’re not going completely overboard.”

“I’m gonna go ahead and guess it’s already too late for that.” She replied, laughing, “None of the guys on the squad are known for restraint… it usually takes Bob and me both to keep them in line.”

“Great.” You said, rolling your eyes. “Let’s go see your new kingdom, Princess Gracie.”

“Yay!” She replied, only understanding you were going bye bye again.

When you pulled back up at Jake’s there were considerably more cars than before. Thankfully though, they’d left the spot open next to Jake’s truck. You pulled in and turned the car off. The front door opened and Jake, Bradley and someone you’d not yet met came out.

“Princess G!” Jake said, making grabby hands towards you when you pulled her out of the car seat. There were bags piled in the backseat and in the trunk from your shopping spree.

“Unco Jakey!” Gracie squealed, reaching for Jake.

“I missed you my beautiful Princess!” He said, “Uncle Jake has a surprise for you!”

“Pwise?” She asked, eyes growing wide. Jake winked at you before carrying your daughter into the house.

“Here let us help Y/N” Bradley said, stepping towards you, smiling. His smile was starting to do things to you.

“I can get these bags, if you guys want to grab the bigger stuff in the trunk?” You said, returning his smile.

“We’re on it, Sweetheart.” He replied, walking around to the trunk and starting to pull out everything you’d gotten for Gracie.

Once inside, you took the bags to the bedroom to be sorted, while the guys stacked all of the bigger purchases in the living room.

You went to the room next to the guest room that had been designated as the princess room and peaked your head in the door.

“Mommy!” Gracie squealed, happily. “Pwincess Woom!”

“Yes, Gracie” You smiled in amazement, walking into the room. “You do have a princess room. Did you tell everyone thank you?”

‘Fank You!” She parroted, running over to hug Jake.

“You’re very welcome, Princess G.” Jake said, picking up the toddler. “What do you think, Tulip?”

“It’s amazing, Jake.” You said, once more overcome with emotion. “You did not have to do all of this.”

“Oh, we definitely did.” He assured you, “Come on, let me introduce you to the rest of the crew. “

You followed him out to the other room where there was an assembly line happening with some on setting up the food and the rest unboxing toys, the stroller, and the booster seat.

“Gracie girl! Wanna see your new toys?” Bradley asked, pulling one of the baby dolls from a box.

“Woosta!” She said, squirming until Jake put her down, running as fast as her little leg would carry her to Bradley. “Toys pwease!”

“Here you go, Sweetpea.” He said, handing her the doll. To his shock and delight, Gracie crawled into his lap and sat happily playing with her new doll. You melted at the sight of this sweet man being so good to your daughter. All of the men here had already treated her better and shown her more love than her own father had in her entire life.

To keep from breaking down in tears, for what felt like the millionth time in two days, you hurried over to help get plates and drinks ready for everyone so they could eat.

“Y/N, this is Penny” Phoenix said introducing you, “She came in clutch with the decor! Couldn’t leave that to the men. She also owns the Hard Deck, where we seem to congregate when we’re not in the skies or on missions.”

“It’s so nice to meet you.” You replied, smiling, “Thank you so much for making my daughter’s room so beautiful. It means so much to us.”

“Of course!” She replied, “I’ve got a soft spot for Jake. I’ve also done the single parent thing with a deadbeat ex. I get it. If you need anything, I am just a phone call away.”

“Thank you” You said again, taking a deep breath. “You’ve all been amazing… I can never repay the kindness.”

“That’s the beauty of family, Y/N.” Phoenix said, “Repayment isn’t expected. We take care of each other.”

“I’m starting to see that.” You replied.

“Hey Tulip,” Jake said, coming up behind you, his arm dropping over your shoulder. He dropped a kiss on top of your head, “You doing ok? Did you get everything you needed for you?”

“I’m ok, Jakey” You replied, “I think I got everything I needed.”

“Good.” He replied, “Mav said he’d help me get the next couple of days off too so we’ll tackle the other problems then ok? Try to relax and just enjoy tonight.”

“Jake.” You replied, “I feel bad enough for crashing your bachelor pad, interrupting your life… I don’t want to interfere with your career too!”

“His career is just fine,” A new, gentle voice added. “He’s earned a few days off… we normally have to force him to take some R&R anyway.”

“Y/N, this is Captain Pete Mitchell, or Maverick.” Jake said introducing you. Jake had a lot of respect for Maverick. He often talked about him when the two of you caught up. He’d become more than just a commanding officer to Jake, he was his mentor and almost a father-figure.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Sir.” You replied, “Jake has told me a lot about you. It’s nice to have a face to go with the stories.”

“No need for formality, Y/N” He laughed, “Pete or Maverick is fine. It’s nice to meet you too. Your brother is quite proud of his little sister and niece. He’s talked about the two of you as well.”

“We’re pretty damn proud of him too.” You said, smiling lovingly at your big brother.

“Mommy, I hungwy” Gracie said, tugging at your shorts. “I eat pwease.”

“Of course, Baby Girl!” you said picking her up, “Let’s get you some dinner.”

Later that night once everyone had cleared out and Gracie was bathed and sound asleep in your new room, you sat down on the couch with Jake.

“Starting over is exhausting.” You sighed, “Thank you, Jakey. I know you told me to stop thanking you, but I can’t. You are quite literally saving us. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out, Tulip.” He said, wrapping his arm around you and tucking you into his side. “It’s you and me against the world, remember?”

“We seem to have picked up a few more people since we were kids, hiding in the treehouse out back.” You replied, “You’ve found a great group, Jakey. A great family.”

“Yeah they are.” He agreed, “Getting called back to Top Gun for that mission… The Daggers forming… is probably the best thing that’s happened to me. I found a purpose finally. I don’t feel the need to always have to prove myself…I don’t always have to be Hangman, I can just be… Jake.”

“You should let them see Jake more often.” You replied, nudging him. “I know a certain female pilot that would probably love to see the softer Jake more often.”

“Staaaahhp” He groaned, “I already have Coyote and Rooster up my ass about Phoenix. It’s… complicated, Tulip.”

“The best things in life usually are.” You pointed out.

“Anyway… “ He said, his green eyes playfully glaring at you, “First thing tomorrow we’ll go get you a new phone number and I’ll add you to my line. Actually… it’s better if we get you a whole new phone and number… then we can keep this one and keep saving texts and voicemails.”

“I don’t even want to know how many messages have come through since I turned it off.” You groaned, “Jakey, this is all becoming too much. You shouldn’t have to add me to your line or be spending so much money. I don’t want to be a burden.”

“Y/N Y/M/N Seresin.” He growled, “I am your big brother. I will always be here to catch you when you need it. I don’t give a flying fuck about money, in fact, I like getting to spoil my baby sister and niece. You and Gracie will never be a burden to me. Do you understand? You. Are. My. Family. Now, hand over the phone, Tulip. I want to see what we’re dealing with.”

“I want to be a Seresin again.” You replied quietly, you hated that you carried that asshole’s name. You’d actually never wanted to take his name, but he’d insisted. “I want Gracie to be a Seresin too.”

“Then we’ll make it happen, Sweetheart.” He smiled gently, then held his hand out, making ‘gimme’ fingers. “Phone.”

You reached into your back pocket and pulled out the phone, handing it over to him. Jake turned it on, and waited for it to power up. Not surprisingly your phone started to ding with notifications in rapid succession. You felt your stomach knot instantly.

“I don’t suppose you know any amazing lawyers that would work for next to nothing do you?” You asked, “All of my money went to the joint account… and I don’t have access to it.”

“What do you mean you don’t have access?” Jake asked,“Like…you left the debit card back in Texas?”

“Trent took care of all of the bills and said I didn’t need to have access. I gave up fighting with him about it. He gave me cash to go get groceries and stuff that Gracie needed.” You replied, ducking your head, unable to make eye contact with your brother.

“Tulip.” He said gently, tucking his hand under your chin to pull your head back up. “Baby girl, why didn’t you tell me things weren’t good? I would have gotten you out of there… long before this.”

“I don’t know.” You whispered. You knew now was probably the time to tell him everything you’d told Phoenix earlier. “I guess I felt stupid. I let myself get backed into a corner and was too helpless to get out of it.”

“You are not stupid, Y/N.” Jake said firmly, “You aren’t helpless either. Anyone can find themselves backed into a corner, Tulip. In the end, you did leave. You got yourself and Gracie out. I need to know, Y/N… I need you to be honest with me.. Did he hurt you? Did he put hands on you? On Gracie? Judging from some of these texts I’ve read, I wouldn’t put it past him. It’s taking everything in me not to fly to Texas tonight.”

“No…never physically hurt me.” You confirmed, “And I’d have killed him had he laid hands on Gracie.”

“That’s one less crime against him I guess.” Jake said, his eyes an eerie cold green. You knew his anger wasn’t directed at you, but it was slightly intimidating nonetheless. “I’m guessing the same isn’t true about emotionally hurting you…”

And there was your opening. You unloaded the three years of emotional pain and turmoil right there on your brother. You told him about everything Trent had done and said, every negative belief he’d tried to engrain in you, the feelings of inadequacy, worthlessness, hopelessness. By the time you finished, Jake’s fists were clenched so hard his knuckles were completely white. Anger rolled off of him in waves. You’d never seen Jake this upset before…this angry. You knew that vast majority of the anger was solely placed at Trent’s feet. But you knew your brother too… you knew he was now blaming himself. Which, honestly, was why you’d never told him what was happening.

“Jakey.” You said, putting your hand on his clenched fist, pulling him from his head. “I can read the thoughts rolling over in your head. I need you to hear me right now… are you listening?”

He looked up at you, his eyes finding your own. You could still see the anger, but you caught a glimpse of pure anguish in his eyes. It nearly broke you.

“I’m listening, Tulip.” He acknowledged, his voice thick with emotion.

“I need you to really hear me.” You repeated, “You. Are. Not. in any way shape or form to blame for anything that has happened in my life. NOTHING has ever been your fault Jake. You protected me and took care of me when our parents didn’t. You were my biggest cheerleader, giving me the courage to try new things. You had every right to go live your dreams, to escape what would have been a dead end life in Texas. You are not allowed to regret that. I am SO proud of you. You turned into an incredible man, Jake… DESPITE the example set for you from our father. You rose above all that and are such a sweet and caring soul. I am responsible for the choices I made and kept making. Trent is responsible for being a horrible human being and a piece of shit husband and father. YOU were here to catch me, Jake. Do you understand me? Please… do not place the blame for any of this anywhere but on Trent and me.”

“Tulip.” Jake said, his voice rough, tears falling down his cheeks. “I hear you… But, I’m your big brother. It’s always been my responsibility to keep you safe and protect you. I feel like I failed miserably at that job. I didn’t see through a situation I should have seen through. I should have picked up on the warning signs. I can’t promise to not blame myself for not getting you out sooner. I can promise to place the blame for the situation 100 percent at that rat bastard’s feet though. YOU, my sweet baby sister are not to blame either… Do you hear me? You are a victim here. Gracie is a victim. I will promise you though, and promise on my life… I will do everything in my power to get you and Gracie free from him. And no matter where I get sent in the future, I will always make sure you’re taken care of and have a safe place to land whenever you need it.”

“I love you Jake.” You said, tears falling down your own cheeks now. “I am the luckiest girl in the world to have you as my big brother.”

“I love you too, Y/N.” Jake said, pulling you over into a tight hug. “I’m the lucky one, Tulip.”

“I didn’t have being a divorced, jobless, single mom at 26 on my BINGO card.” You remarked dryly.

“Nothing wrong with being divorced,” Jake said, “Our lives would have been better had our parents split. The rest is easy enough to fix. We find you a job you like, get you set up with a bank account and as for being a single mom… you’re young, Tulip. You will meet someone great that loves you and Gracie. I’ll be vetting them this time… sorry, not sorry.”

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem, Jakey.” You replied, “I think I’m just going to focus on being a mom to Gracie and providing a great life for her. I’m a little gun shy with relationships. Not the best track record…”

“Give it time, Sweetheart.” He cautioned, “Don’t be too quick to slam doors. One step at a time though. I’m gonna wade through these messages. You go get some sleep.”

“Don’t engage with him though Jake.” You pleaded.

“Not planning on replying to anything, Tulip.” He said, “I promise.”

“Ok. Goodnight, Jakey.” You said getting up. You turned and dropped a kiss on his head, “I love you.”

“Love you too, Sweetheart.” He smiled, “Sweet Dreams.”

After you went towards your room, Jake spent a half hour going through all the messages, forwarding them to his own phone as back up. The more he read, the angrier he became. He got up to grab a beer from the fridge to take the edge off. Since he had the next day off, he didn’t feel guilty drinking.

Sitting back down on the couch, he pulled out his own phone and called Bradley.

“Everything alright?” Bradley asked as soon as he’d answered.

“I’ve been looking at the texts and listening to messages that Y/N’s soon to be EX husband is sending her and I’m so beyond angry, I just needed to be talked down.” Jake replied, “I sent her off to bed to get some sleep.”

“I don’t know how good I’ll be at talking you down from that man,” Bradley admitted, “Just spending the little time with her today that I did, I’d be right behind you in line to beat the shit of out of him.”

“Well shit, man, we can’t both end up in jail.” Jake laughed, “I just feel like I should have picked up on this much sooner and gotten her the fuck out.”

“You know it’s not your fault, Jake.” Bradley said, “The only person to blame in the entire scenario is that piece of shit.”

“That’s what Y/N said too” Jake admitted, “But I’m her big brother and have always been her protector.”

“She’s a smart woman. You should listen to her.” Bradley replied, “She also seems to be pretty damn tough so don’t discredit that. It sucks when you can’t protect the people you love from life. I get it. But you’re here now, you can protect them now. Plus you have a whole squad ready to throw down.”

“Thanks, Rooster,” Jake said. “She is tough… sometimes too tough. I’ll definitely make sure they’re protected at all costs now.”

“Your niece is probably the cutest kid I’ve ever met.” Bradley said, “Did she love her Princess room?”

“She is so perfect.” Jake gushed, “She went right to sleep, all snuggled into the blankets.”

“You should take her to the zoo while you’re off.” Bradley suggested, “I bet she’d absolutely adore that.”

“Good idea, man.” He said, “She would love it. So would Y/N. She’s always been crazy about animals. Would take her mind off things too.”

“No doubt about that.” Bradley agreed. “You good now?”

“Yeah.” Jake said, “Thank you. I might bring the girls by the base tomorrow, show them around.”

“Sounds good.” Bradley said, “Call me if you do, I’ll make sure everyone is available and we can show them all the planes.”

“Perfect. Goodnight Rooster.” Jake said.

“Goodnight, Hangman.” Bradley replied before hanging up.

Jake quickly finished his beer then headed to bed. He wanted to get as much accomplished tomorrow as possible and now he needed to plan a zoo trip.

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