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pacifymebby · 8 months

Note

I cry when people yell at me(parent issues™️) and I was wondering how the peakys would react to that, like I can handle most things but yelling is like a big nono for me, would they be concerned or tease me for that, I don't think they will but I'm interested on how they'll react to it for the first time it happens, or if I yell back for the first time? You just do a great job at writing these characters💛

( im sorry if this is too personal or whatever)

AN: not too personal my lovely dw, here at Pacifymebby dot Tumblr dot com we (me) totally specialise in ✨ fanfiction as therapy ✨ haha. Sorry these have taken me ages to do. I'm also a crier when men shout at me so I hope I've written this how you wanted!!!!

Tommy

🌿 Is genuinely very shocked when, mid argument, you start crying. You've seen so much worse than this, you've witnessed some terrible things because of him and his brothers, the fights they get into every week. Only last week you'd watched with as calm a demeanour as one could manage, whilst Arthur had a violent breakdown and smashed a chair up at the dinner table. You'd not shown a shred of fear. But now, here you are, silent, heartbreaking tears streaming down your face and why?

🌿 because Tommy raised his voice at you.

🌿 you couldn't even remember what you'd been arguing about now. You'd seen red and blue fear in your mind the second he'd raised his voice. You'd watched him lose his temper with you, his jaw tense, his face going red as he yelled at you, his expression so angry, so cold and unforgiving. And it had shocked you. Tommy had never raised his voice at you before. You'd seen him shout at his brothers but he'd never shouted at you.

🌿 and the sight of you suddenly drained of colour, your skin taking on that strange bloodless translucency as you starred back at him wide eyed and fearful... it shocks him. You're looking at him like you don't recognise him and suddenly there's a lump in his throat.

🌿 He reaches out for you but you flinch away from him, backing away slowly and then suddenly fleeing, running away, vision blurred by your tears. You don't really know where to go and you can here him calling after you, but his voice raised shouting down the hallway for you only makes it worse. Only adds to your fear.

🌿 you're certain that you're in trouble so you don't stop even when he calls after you. Thing is he hasn't even said he's sorry. Hasn't realised why you're running from him.

🌿 "Y/N love for fuck sake what're you doin... we need to talk about this... Y/n stop!"

🌿 He's chased you out to the gardens, still shouting, still not getting the hint... it's only when he shouts again, louder this time, screaming your name across the lawn that you freeze. His voice seems to shake the whole world and it strikes the fear of god into you. So you stop. And he thinks thats the problem solved, that you've stopped running away from him now so he can return to you and you can talk like grownups.

🌿 but when he gets closer to you you back away some more, and even when he warns you to wait for him you edge away. Every step he takes you take one back until you find yourself backed up against a tree, looking at him with all this fear in your eyes.

🌿 He's careful as he approaches, one arm out to you, trying to coax you back to him... he can see that something has absolutely terrified you but it's only when he gets close enough to touch you, only when he brings his hand up to fix your hair that he realises what you're scared of.

🌿 "Don't hurt me!" You gasp, eyes squeezed shut, your body rigid with fear as you bring your hands up to protect your face. And it's that which makes him realise. That movement, that fragile tremble in your voice as you beg him not to harm you that breaks his heart.

🌿 and the realisation hits him like a freight train, chokes him. He can't believe you're frightened of him. He can't believe it's him who has caused you all this terror. You're trembling, your hands shaking the way a rabbit shakes when it knows it's being hunted.

🌿 He let's out a sigh, closes his eyes and tried to steady his own shaken nerves. He doesn't want to scare you anymore.

🌿 "Y/n, angel listen to me girl, I'm not going to hurt you..." he says, his voice a gentle caress as he takes your trembling hands in his, draws them away from your face and places them on his chest. He holds then both to his heart underneath his hand and with the other he cups your cheek. Makes you look up at him, catches your tears with his thumb and brushes them away.

🌿 "I scared you," he says looking at you ever so mournfully, he feels so guilty and you can see the hurt in his eyes. It just makes you feel worse and you shake your head trying to apologise. You can feel his heart beating beneath your hands, it's racing, his adrenaline too high and you feel guilty yourself because you made him angry.

🌿 "I'm.. I'm so sorry Tommy I made you angry I shouldn't have pissed you off its not..." but he cuts you off, finger pressed to your lips to hush you as he steps closer to you, his body so close to yours that you have to tilt your head back to look up at him. His head is bowed to look down at you.

🌿 "Shh now angel I'm talkin yeah, my turn to talk now eh so listen to me..." he's being ever so gentle, his hand holding your hip, the other tucking your hair behind your ear and stroking your cheek. He doesn't look harsh or sharp anymore, instead of anger his eyes are full of love. "Don't you apologise to me sweetheart, please don't do that... I'm sorry I shouted at you angel, shouldn't have done that but listen to me now eh cause this is important..."

🌿 You can't take your eyes off him, you're still shaking, still crying, your hearts still racing, but you're not frightened anymore. He's looking down at you with such an intense honesty, you can see the remorse in his eyes when he talks to you in that sweet gentle voice.

🌿 "I will never hurt you alright, I promise... even if I'm angry yeah, even if we're havin a blazing bloody row, I won't ever lay a finger on you like that sweetheart, I won't ever hurt you.."

🌿 You'd probably start crying all over again, burying your face in his chest, feeling his arms wrap around you and hold you tight. His hand stroking your back as he bows his head to place a kiss on yours. He'd cradle your head against his body and rest his chin in your hair. Close his eyes, hold onto you tight and treasure the feeling of you in his arms.

🌿 "You really fuckin scared me Tommy..." you'd sniffle struggling to calm yourself down.

🌿 "I know angel, I know and I'm really fuckin sorry alright..."

Alfie

🐻 He didn't mean to shout, Alfie's never raised his voice at you before because he doesn't believe in shouting at women and girls. He has a very firm, traditional view on that and he's stubborn about it too. No swearing, shouting and hitting women and girls.

🐻 The only reason he shouted is because he panicked, you were wandering around in a daydream so you hadn't noticed the tension in the bakery when you'd entered through the back door on your way to see your beloved. Tommy Shelby had just left, informing Alfie that he'd set up a trip wire to ensure his safety, that if he tugged on the string in his hand he would pull the pin from a grenade which would blow up half the bakery, starting a monstrous fire which would probably kill all inside. All those barrels of rum would go up in flames.

🐻 And you were one step from tripping that string which Tommy had tied to the leg of Alfies desk all, "I'll let you deal with this, have a think about what I've said whilst you work eh, careful though, its a delicate procedure..."

🐻 So when he'd seen you Alfie hadn't thought twice, shouting "Y/N stop! Stay there, fuckin don't move!" and luckily you'd frozen. Your body going rigid as the fear struck you like lightning.

🐻 He'd startled you for sure but more than that the sound of his voice ricochetting around the room, the voice of a man who was usually so tender and gentle with you, always so protective of you.. He'd never spoken to you like that and hearing it now struck ice cold fear into the very bones of you.

🐻 Alfie doesn't even notice at first, doesn't notice how you've gone white as a sheet, can't even move, he's too worried about that wire, too busy trying to work out what to do. Hoping there's a chance Tommy was bullshitting him. Hoping that actually there's nothing to fear.

🐻 And poor you, you're just stood there, hand clutched over your mouth starring at your love in shock. You don't know what to do because you don't want to embarrass yourself by bursting into tears over a little shouting, but you already know it's too late. Alfie really scared you, and he's never scared you before.

🐻 So you can't hold it back, you're trembling all over with the effort of fighting your tears, some have already escaped, you've swallowed down a sob already but it's the fact that Alfie's not even looking at you. The way he shouted at you so sharply, so harshly, and he isn't even looking at you now. You're struggling to reason with your own anxiety, convinced that you've done something wrong, that he hates you...

🐻 but then he hears it. The sound of your choked sob, one you'd tried and failed to hold back. And once the first escapes the damn breaks and you're in floods of tears. You don't move, frozen to the spot but your hands are over your face and your crying so mournfully that the sound sends an icy shard through Alfie's heart. Suddenly the hidden explosive is the least of his worries.

🐻 "Fuck," he grumbles to himself, telling himself off for snapping at you, "gentle Alfie what have I fuckin told you man, sometimes yeah you have to be fuckin gentle..." he's grumbling to himself as he reassesses his predicament. He knows he needs to get to you and get you to safety but he knows he can't get to you without risking your safety.

🐻 So he sighs. "Ziskeit, my dear, y/n poppet I'm sorry yeah, didn't mean to shout at you ziskeit, didn't mean to shout.. that was just me you know... panickin right, but I shouldn't have shouted at you yeah lovely girl I'm sorry..." he's making his way towards you very slowly and very carefully, talking soft and gentle, hands out because he doesn't want to startle you. His eyes flickering with concern between you and the wire you almost tripped.

🐻 "See my ziskeit, down there right by your feet yeah, there's a wire right and I need you to be very careful cause it's very dangerous yeah..." he doesn't want to scare you more than he already has but he also doesn't want you to move and accidentally set it off.

🐻 When he finally gets to you he doesn't hesitate to wrap his big arms around you and give you the warmest, tightest bear hug. He holds you firm against his chest, strokes your hair and cradles your head, burying your face in the crook of his neck. His beards tickley on your cheek and you're all wrapped up in the comfort of his musky scent.

🐻 "There, there my little ziskeit, s'alright now yeah, your Alfie's got you my darlin an he ain't lettin you go.."

🐻 He takes your hands from your face, won't let you hide and then he wipes your tears away with his thumbs. You can't just turn the waterworks off though and the tears keep coming.

🐻 Alfie feels so guilty.

🐻 But he'd hold your face in his hands and put his forehead against yours, looking down into your watery wounded eyes with such an intense devotion.

🐻 "Didn't mean to scare you poppet, please don't be scared now yeah, I'm here, I love you... I didn't mean to shout."

🐻 He'd probably call Ollie or one of his trusted men for help, he'd be instructing them on how to undo and disarm Tommy's trap, all the while still holding you and hushing you. The contrast between the way he barks orders at his men and then turns to you with the most tender, soft voice, shushing you and stroking your hair.

🐻 Promises he'll never shout at you again, but also, because he knows what he's like he also promises that if he does raise his voice at you, it won't be because he's angry and it won't be because he hates you. It'll be because he'd a stupid old man who forgets himself sometimes.

🐻 You'd sniffle, this shy smile on your lips as you tell him "you're not a stupid old man..." and he'd just chuckle, kiss your nose and brush your hair away from your tear stained cheeks, probably catching another tear on his thumb. "I am for making my ziskeit cry, but, you have my word now don't you girl, ain't ever gonna make you cry again..."

🐻 It's a big promise but Alfie is truly devoted to you and so protective of you that he really does hold it against himself forever. He's always viewed himself as your protector so the idea that you were scared of him is horrifying to him. He really does intend to keep his promise.

🐻 Will set a rule in the bakery and the warehouses that if you're around nobody is to raise their voice for any reason. He'll spin some bullshit about how it's very fucking rude and inconsiderate to shout when there are women and children present. If anyone breaks that rule Alfie will not hesitate to silence them in his own special way.

Arthur

🍂 It's probably not the first time this has happened let's be real here, this is probable not even the first time this has happend this week...

🍂 Arthur's emotions aren't exactly the easiest thing to endure... for either of you. He has a quick temper and he doesn't know how to express himself. If he's scared he turns to violence, if he's upset, he turns to violence, if he's angry, violence... even when he's happy or excited something usually gets broken, he usually forgets himself, talks too loudly... shouts...

🍂 And even though you're used to Arthur and his loud, uncontrollable and often unpredictable ways, you've never been able to get used to his yelling. You've always been easily startled and people yelling, raised voices has always set you on edge. And when someone shouts at you well, you always cry. You can't help yourself and you feel so stupid for it sometimes too... especially when it's Arthur who has made you cry because you know you should be used to it by now. You know what he's like... when he shouts and you start crying you always feel like a stupid child who can't control her own emotions.

🍂 But Arthur understands how that feels. It's not like he can control his either...

🍂 So of all the Blinders Arthur is the most sympathetic. It's not just that he feels terribly guilty for making you cry, it's that he hates how bad about yourself it makes you feel too and he wants you to learn not to be so hard on yourself.

🍂 So, he's always trying his best not to shout, for whatever reason... sometimes he comes home ecstatic about something that happened at the Garrison, he's half way through shouting through the house for you when he cuts himself off.

🍂 "Nah what have I fuckin told you Arthur Shelby, indoor voice for y/n, nice, gentle indoor voice..."

🍂 But of course this is Arthur and no matter how hard he tries he forgets himself and loses control on the regular. And when he does you also lose control... Arthur is an intimidating man at the best of times and when he shouts he is so fucking scary... especially when he's shouting because he's angry, and especially if he's shouting because he's arguing with you...

🍂 When that happens you probably don't just cry, you burst into tears, really dramatically... you'd shrink away from him, curl up on the floor crying your heart out, shaking, sobbing into your skirts and then when he realises what he's done it hits him in the gut and he does cold, panicks. He feels so guilty for scaring you again and rushes to try and hug.

🍂 Gets down there on the floor with you and bundles you up in his arms. His whole demeanor changes in an instant, all the fight knocked out of him in seconds as he rushed to comfort you.

🍂 Cradles you to his chest, rocking you to sooth you as he apologises over and over again. "For fuck sake darlin come here, fuckin 'ell I'm such a bloody idiot, I'm sorry my darlin I'm fuckin so sorry alright... didnt mean to scare you girl, y'know I love you don't I, ain't gonna hurt you, didn't mean to scare you just forgot meself that's all, you're alright my girl, I've got you eh, your Arthur loves you very much an he's very fuckin sorry for being such a fuckin dinlow eh..."

🍂 You'd be clutching at his shirt, sobbing into his chest, doing your best to calm yourself down, mentally chastising yourself for being so stupid because you know he didn't mean it, you know it was an accident, that you're safe with Arthur, that he won't ever hurt you... but even so, he scared you so much...

🍂 you'd push yourself up in his lap and try to wipe your tears away, probably trying to pull away from him and act as though everything was fine even though all you want to do is nestle deeper into his embrace and hold onto him until your heart stops racing.

🍂 And Arthur knows you well enough to recognise what you're doing so he isn't going to just let you go and pretend you're fine.

🍂 "Right now where dya think you're goin darlin..." he'd start, catching your hand and tugging you back into his lap, his arm locking around your waist, the other hand using his sleeve to dry your eyes. "Look at me yeah, got all the time in the world eh so I don't know what you're rushin off for darlin..."

🍂 "S'alright I'm alright now Arth was just being stupid wasn't I, you didn't scare me it's fine just bein..." but he'd cut you off shaking his head, giving you that frown which means 'dont give me all that rot y/n, I know you.'

🍂 "Nah," he'd say, "now don't start with all that shit now darlin, not wi me eh, I did scare you and you ain't stupid for bein scared neither... you ain't stupid at all..." "but..." when you try to argue he holds your face in both hands, your nose pressed up against his, his scruffy hair tickling your cheek as he gets right up close to you. His eyes are so intense when they lock with yours. "No buts now sweetheart, I fuckin scared you, I know I did and I'm fuckin sorry for it too... I'm the one who lost control so I'm the one who has to apologise right love, so I'm fuckin sorry yeah sweetheart, I hate scaring you an I never wanna do it again yeah... need to start using me fuckin brain eh love..."

🍂 But you hate seeing him put himself down so you're there holding his face in your hands too, looking up at him with such intensity, such stubbornness, it would be infuriating for him if he didn't currently feel so guilty. "You're not a fuckin idiot Arthur... don't call yourself stupid alright..."

🍂 For you and Arthur these scenes always end in the most loving of embraces, him holding you tight against him, you sitting in his lap on the floor, the two of you holding onto one another so carefully, so lovingly, your eyes locking as you tell eachother again how much you love one another. Your lips meeting in a desperate adoring kiss. One neither of you want to pull away from.

🍂 "Fuckin love you my darlin, don't even mean to upset you eh, I'll try harder yeah, Indoor voice from now I promise..." he says in as close to a whisper as Arthur Shelby can manage, kissing your face all over. Kissing away the last of your tears.

🍂 He always promises he won't shout at you again, you always promise you'll stop crying when he does. Both of you know that in a couple days time you'll be going over the whole routine again.

John

🌼 For all that John is a very laidback man, he has a temper on him and he has a very strict sense of morals, right and wrong (despite all of his moral activities) and when he feels strongly about something he will argue about it... and he has a temper on him.

🌼 When he loses his temper things can get messy, too emotional... He doesn't usually lose him temper with you though and so when he does it comes as even more of a shock.

🌼 He doesn't mean to start shouting at you, he already knows you don't deal well with it... Your voices have both been raising slowly as the arguments been escalating and when he finally starts really shouting you shout right back...

🌼 He didn't even realise he'd shouted until he heard your voice shouting back... suddenly cracking because you're trembling, because you've been fighting back your tears and they've just escaped.

🌼 He sees the tears streaming down your face and realises that you aren't even shouting because you're angry, your shout was one of fear. A "Stop it! Stop fucking shouting at me John fucking stop it!" Your hands over your ears as you shout at him from across the kitchen table, your eyes desperate with heartache and fear.

🌼 For a second you're looking at him with real upset and shock, like you don't recognise him at all, like he isn't your John anymore...

🌼 He feels terrible. He's gripped with guilt, a pain in his throat squeezing and aching, he's choked up by tears in his own eyes. Sometimes feelings are too big and John can't handle them.

🌼 Views himself as being the good family man, a loving, caring husband, a protective father, the man who looks after everyone, provides for them, so the idea that he could have done to his wife the one things she really can't handle, disgusts him. He's really disappointed in himself and he's determined to make it up to you.

🌼 He'd raise his hands up in surrender, his eyes full of guilt, his cheeks a little flushed as a tear escapes his eye, he's stepping away from the table, approaching you cautiously.

🌼 "Am sorry flower, I'm sorry..." his voice is wobbling but he's talking quietly now, as if lowering his voice like this is going to make up for the violence of his shouting at you moments before... and it does a little, or at least, his sudden effort to be gentle and careful calms you, lets you know you're not in danger.

🌼 He'll wrap his arms around you carefully, waiting for you to come to him, waiting for you to let him hold you. But when you feel the outline of his embrace you crumble, throwing your arms around him, sobbing into his neck as he closes his hold around you a little tighter, keeping you secure.

🌼 He'll hush you and rock you, doing his best to calm you down, all the while apologising for losing his temper.

🌼 "I'm so sorry little flower, I shouldn't have shouted at you, shouldn't have lost me temper that was fuckin stupid of me wasn't it..."

🌼 Lots of kissing your hair and your forehead. Will hold you as long as you need to calm down.

🌼 Will wipe your tears and tap your nose. Will hold your face in both his hands, thumbs brushing over your cheeks, forehead to forehead promising you very passionately that he'll never shout at you like that again. You can see it in his eyes how strongly he feels, he's got tears in his eyes and he's perhaps crying a little too. He's talking but his jaw is clenched and the words are forced through his teeth so they come out really shaky but certain.

🌼 You catching his tears on your thumbs and brushing them away. The two of you eventually smiling at that, making a little joke about how over emotional you both are.

🌼 If you try to apologise for having cried, or if you try to joke about your tears, how silly it was of you to cry just because he shouted at you he will shake his head, cut you off all "no, no... no way flower, you ain't silly for cryin, you ain't supposed to like bein shouted at and your husband definitely ain't supposed to be shoutin at you like that neither..."

🌼 He'll be extra sweet to you for many days to come, bringing you flowers, talking particularly gently to you too. Lots of affection, hugs, kisses, holding your hand whenever he can, layering it on thick so that you know he still loves you... he knows how sensitive you are and knows that you'll still be worrying about the argument days later, so he'll do as much as he can to show you he loves you.

🌼 Once during a particularly heated family meeting Tommy shouted down the table at you for something you said, John was livid, white as a sheet with rage as he put his arms around you and stood protectively behind you. He was glaring so sharply his stare could have sliced Tommy open. Later you heard them scrapping when everyone else had left.

Bonnie

🍀 Bonnie is such a calm lad, he never shouts even when he's threatening other people. He's not the kind of man who raises his voice unless he really has to, he's usually the quietly threatening, controlled anger, spitting his threats through gritted teeth, not yelling...

🍀 It would take one hell of an argument, you'd both be feeling fragile and desperate, both of you shaking with he strength of the heartache and distress you're feeling.

🍀 Whatever you're fighting about it's been brewing for awhile so you both have so many thoughts, so many troubled feelings you need to get off your chest...

🍀 And when he does shout its because he feels a sudden panic, has a sudden fear that he will never be able to explain himself, never be able to make you understand... it's a truly desperate shout, almost a plea... "Would you just listen to me for a second love I'm trying to..."

🍀But he doesn't even finish the sentence, the second he realises he's yelled at you he feels a wee bit sick, his hands shaking and suddenly he can't speak at all. He's watching you, you're frozen, starring back at him with these terrifyingly sad wide eyes...

🍀 he can see he's just broken your heart.

🍀 For a moment theres silence, you're just starring back at him in shock, he's watching you, scared to move or say another word because if he does he's worried something between you will break. That you're both hanging on by a thread.

🍀 And when the thread snaps and you come back to life, your hand rising to cover your mouth and catch your sob, your eyes closing as your whole body shivers with the effort of fighting back tears, Bonnie watches you with this hollow weight in his stomach, this cold lump of guilt.

🍀 Swallows a lump in his throat, his voice quiet and shaky when he speaks again.

🍀 "Fuck, fuck I'm so sorry dove... don't cry, don't cry dove I'm sorry," he's speaking softly, hesitant to try and hug you because he saw the fear in your eyes and he's not sure you want him to come any closer now. "Please forgive me y/n I'm sorry, can I..." he trails off reaching for your hand, tugging you gently into his arms.

🍀Whatever you were fighting about it simultaneously ceases to matter to him and also becomes completely unsolvable...he's scared youre never going to look at him the same way again. He's supposed to be your man, your protector, the one person you can always trust and now he's let you down, he's scared you... he really resents himself for that, can't forgive himself for scaring you.

🍀"I'm sorry little dove," he'd whisper, his voice soothing, his breath brushing your cheek as he promises he won't shout like that again, "s'okay sweetpea, s'alright..." but he doesn't feel like its alright.

🍀 He'll hold you as snug as he can, but carefully too, treating you extra delicately, he's really hesitant to hug you too tightly or kiss you in case you're scared of him now.

🍀 "Don't be scared of my dove, you're breakin me heart," he says it with a teasing little smile, trying to get a giggle from you or something but you can hear the heartbreak in his voice and you know he's really telling the truth.

🍀 When you settle down a little you nuzzle into him, "Sorry Bon..." you sniffle trying to dry your eyes, caught out and speechless when he catches your hands in his and, strokes his thumbs over your palms. "What you sayin sorry for eh sweetpea? Am the one whose sayin sorry now..." he chuckles, holding your palm up to his lips and kissing your hands.

🍀 Even if you feel better quickly, soothed by Bonnie's sweetness, he won't feel better about it. The guilt will stick with him for a long time, one of those memories that comes back in the middle of the night and makes him cringe.

🍀 He's extra soft with you for the rest of the day and the morning after too, treating you like he's scared you're going to break. He speaks quietly and gently and he'll treat you with such tenderness, holding you at every opportunity, holding your hand even if you're just sitting together. Any excuse to kiss you or tell you he loves you.

🍀 Because he knows how upset you get when someone yells at you, if anyone else ever makes you cry by raising their voice at you Bonnie's fierce protective side will snap and he will be raring to defend you. You have had to talk him down from fights because of this.

Isaiah

🐀 He'll be so shocked when you start crying... he's seen you witness so much "worse" than shouting before... so he really wasn't expecting you to burst into tears when a drunk man at the bar raised his voice at you. He turns with a frown, brows tugged in in confusion as he blinks at you struggling to process the sight of you with tears streaking your face. He honestly didn't think anything could phase you...

🐀 For a second he's stunned but he soon snaps into action... "For fuck sake man now look what you've done!" He groans turning to the man behind your tears, "gone and made me girl cry ain't you... now I have to hurt ya..." he says with a cruel grin, as if he hadn't been intending on hurting the stupid cunt who'd been eyeing his girl up with lecherous eyes all evening anyway. "Don't get me wrong like... I wanted to anyway yeah, you've just given me a good excuse..."

🐀 Once he's satisfied he's fucked the stupid bastard up enough, he turns his attention back to you. He's not expecting to see you still crying, in fact he'd kind of been hoping he'd just imagined it, been hoping he was just going crazy like Arthur... but he isn't, and you are still crying.

🐀 And Isaiah isn't good with crying girls, doesn't know what to do about all those tears, feels totally at a loss.. especially because he's never seen you cry before.

🐀 will try to joke about it, not teasing you harshly, just making a little joke about how 'easily' scared it turns out you are... "You had me fooled mousy..."

🐀 This earns him a pretty firm slap from Ado who's jaw has just hit the floor... "Fuck sake dinlow whatre you doing making it bloody worse!" She'd be all arms crossed and shaking her head, muttering about how men these days are all the fucking stupid same.

🐀 but her slaps gotten through to Isaiah at least who is looking at you now with a somewhat more awkward smile, but he takes your hand and offers you a hug. This is the most stunted a conversation with Isaiah could possibly be and you're beginning to feel a whole different kind of anxious.

🐀 "Right for fuck sake, I've had enough of this.." Ada cuts in, "you.. give your girlfriend a fuckin hug alright," she'd say pointing at Isaiah and then pointing at you, "and you.. god sake girl get yourself a better fuckin boyfriend eh?"

🐀 "Alright Ada piss off yeah I've got her, she's alright now ain't you mousy..." Isaiah would groan, he's embarrassed by Ada pointing out his flaws but hes showing it as frustration instead. He will take her advice onboard however, he isn't that stupid.

🐀 He'll put his arm around your shoulder and squeeze you into his side steering you outside for a cigarette and some cool night air. He knows you'll be embarrassed about crying so he wants to take you somewhere quiet.

🐀 "Sorry for laughing at you doll you just took me by surprise... ain't like you is it... crying..." he'll say gently, he's sharing a cigarette with you, taking a drag or two and then placing it between your lips carefully. This is something he only does when he's trying to make you feel extra close and cosy with him.

🐀 He's quite curious about it, wants to understand why you cried, wants to know what it is about raised voices that you just can't deal with. And this curiosity isn't so that he can mock you, it's so that he can help you. He never wants to see you cry like that again so he wants to help you get over your fear...

🐀 He will offer you lots of reassurance, "you know I'm always here for you love, won't ever let anyone hurt you yeah... so even if someone does shout at you you ain't got nothin to be scared of yeah?"

🐀 He'll remind you that now you're with the Peaky Blinders you're always going to have someone near by to protect you. That men like "that cunt inside" will think twice about raising their voice at you...

🐀 Will hold your hand for the rest of the night, giving it reassuring squeezes at seemingly random moments. His affections will be subtle but constant all night and he'll make sure you feel safe.

🐀 If ever he shouts when you're nearby he'll remember himself quickly, apologising to you as soon as he can, making sure you're alright. If other Peaky lads chastise him for this he'll sock them round the back of the head no hesitations.

🐀 He's too easy going and because he doesn't want to shout at you, he avoids arguments like the plague, he'd rather just let most things slide until an issue absolutely has to be addressed because he's worried that if he gets swept into a row with you he won't be able to stop himself from losing his temper. He isn't sure yet whether this tactic is going to serve him well.

Michael

☘️ Its a heated argument, one which really give meaning to the phrase "blazing row." You and Michael are both furious with one another over a disagreement which has been stewing and bubbling away for weeks. One about Tommy Shelby and the unreasonable pressure he puts on his younger cousin.

☘️ When the row started it was because you wanted Michael to stand up to his cousin, you'd tried to encourage him to put his foot down, to start saying no every now and then when Tommy's demands crossed boundaries, but Michael didn't want to. he said you didn't understand the family, that you were sticking your nose into something which doesn't concern you.

☘️ And because you care so much about Michael you can't let go, won't back down. And because he cares about you and doesn't want you winding up in trouble Michael refuses to back down too. And thats how you end up screaming at one another in the middle of breakfast one morning.

☘️ He's so angry he doesn't notice that you aren't just shouting to match his fierce temper. He doesn't notice that you're trembling all over, that your cheeks are flushed and your eyes are wide and white - more like a deer in the headlights than a dragon.

☘️ The argument would peak with you unleashing all your fear and hurt, all your desperation into one shattering scream, "Leave me alone Michael for fuck sake leave me alone!" you shout over your shoulder when you go running off into the garden and he follows. HE doesn't listen however and it takes you picking a rock up and throwing it in his direction for him to get the message and let you go.

☘️ You run away for the rest of the day, go disappearing down the lane storming into the park up the street, finding a bench or a tree to sit beneath, hugging your knees to your chest and sobbing into your skirts.

☘️ Meanwhile at home Michael is pissed off, pacing, getting angry, damaging furniture as his temper gets the better of him. He's fuming, he can't get his head around why you ran away. Why you were so upset. . He thinks you behaved childishly and doesn't understand why you ran off like a little girl...

☘️ It takes you both a long time to calm down and when you do you really don't want to go back to the house, so you go to Polly's instead, you don't tell her about the row but you drink tea with her and wait for Michael to turn up. (Pol assures you he always comes to her when you've been fighting)

☘️ And when he does show up that evening he's been drinking whiskey and his mood is bitter and self pitying.

☘️ "Let me guess Michael my boy, you and y/n had a row... she got upset, she ran away, she..." "Came here," he smirks shaking his head with a small self deprecating smile, "hiya love..."

☘️ He won't apologise for shouting because you were shouting too, and because Michael never apologises for anything. But he will pour the two of you some tea and try to talk to you a little more softly than before.

☘️ "You worried me love, running away from me like that...gave me a scare..." "You were shouting at me," you shrug sullenly. He would be struggling not to let his temper flare again. "You were shouting at me too to be fair love... and anyway, you're not a little girl are you, you don't run away from someone just for shouting..."

☘️ You'd bristle, getting defensive, fresh tears glossing your eyes then, a painful lump in your throat when you realise he doesn't understand and maybe isn't going to.

☘️ "No," you say, voice catching in your throat, "but what kind of man likes screaming at his girl?" When you ask him that he won't be able to ignore the guilt he feels. He'll be struggling to swallow down the lump in his throat too and he'll reach for your hand across the table, brush his thumb over your knuckles as he looks you in the eyes, tries to find an unspoken equilibrium between the two of you. Something to two of you can hold onto despite your differences.

☘️ "Alright," he says finally, let's out a little sigh and squeezes your hand. "No more shouting eh how does that sound?"

☘️ When you nod your head, your smile forming slow but wide, he mirrors your warm expression and leans back in his chair, tugs your hand across the table so that you'll stand and come sit down in his lap.

☘️ "No more shouting it is then y/n," he says holding your waist in his hands, feeling closer to you at last, enjoying the comfort of your familiar shape beneath his hands. He'll point to his cheek then all, "come on love, give us a kiss eh? Forgive me?" and he'll wait until you do lean in to place a kiss on his cheek before he catches yours in his palm and steers your mouth towards his.

AN/ hope these were what you were hoping for lovely, I honestly am not sure I've done your request justice but I don't think I can write much more so sorry about that :/

Taglist:

@jomarch-wannabe @zablife @call-sign-shark @marwwfairy@toddlerbodybag@mollybegger-blog@inalovesrabbits-blog @elina-777@impossibleheartflower@liliac-dreamer@everysage@itsghostgirlyo

#tommy shelby x reader #arthur shelby x reader #peaky blinders imagine #bonnie gold x reader #john shelby x reader #peaky blinders headcanon #peaky blinders imagines #isaiah jesus x reader #alfie solomons x reader

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malertop · 8 days

Text

Steve Rogers x TonyStarkSon!Male Reader

THE WHINY ACCIDENT

Gif is not mine!

Genre: Smut

Warnings?: bad bad bad writing,since english aint my first language and this is like my fourth or fifth fanfiction the writing may or just isn't the best..or great!,please forgive me if it's just BAD.

1 PM: MONDAY

"Are you sure you're ready for this Y/N?" Tony Stark asked.Tony Stark was and is known as the one and only Iron Man but also as a highly intelligent playboy who is also a billionaire man."Yes dad,can you calm down now and just trust me!" Y/N said.Y/N Stark is the son of Tony Stark and the big brother of their second child named Morgan Stark.Y/N Stark is a smart guy just like his father,but one thing that made him special is that he was gifted with powerful magic,and because he was ready to do anything to save people.Y/N magic was something powerful,so of course he had to join the Avengers but what happened is that he got a super big crush on the leader of the Avengers who is also known as the one and only Captain America a.k.a Steve Rogers."Oh c'mon,this is dangerous and you're just a kid,MY KID.I am sorry that I am worried for my son's safety!" Tony said dramatically again,scared and worried for his son's first actual dangerous mission "Dad oh my god don't worry I am going to be just fine!" Y/N insisted,he tried telling his dad for the 50x time probably already that he is going to be okay "Okay no,I am done!" Tony said as he put his hands in the air "What do you mean now?" Y/N said as he rolled his eyes as he sighted "I am sending Steve with you so he can watch you." Tony said with a serious voice and face "...I AM NOT A KID!" Y/N said as he yelled "ohmygodohmygodohmygod!" Y/N yelled in his mind "GOD PLEASE TELL ME HE IS JOKING!PLEASE PLEASE DAD TELL ME YOUR JOKING,I CAN'T BE WITH HIM ALONE" "Oh you are a kid kiddo,you're my kid and i don't want anything bad to happen to you." Tony said as he pointed at me as I just gave up.As I looked up I saw him starting to walk towards the door "Where are you going?" Y/N asked him as Tony turned to face the kid "Where else do you think?,You know what just stay here and wait." Tony said as he opened the door and then left.After 20 minutes Tony came back but with someone Y/N didn't exactly expected to see right at the moment "Okay Steve are you sure your fine with going with him?" Tony said before entering the door,with Steve next to him "I got no problem with that,and we can get along kind of more" Steve said with a smile "Are you saying you want to be friends with my son?" Tony asked as he pointed at Steve "what wait n-" as Steve started to panic Tony interrupted him "just kidding,I don't care" Tony said as he opened the door and let himself and Captain America enter where they saw Y/N already sleeping on his chair since as a hero he didn't had much time to sleep.

—————————⍟————————

7 PM: MONDAY

"Okay I am going to take a shower..." Steve said quietly as he put you in a bed "this kid is really heavy,I am really swea-" but as Steve was staying he noticed something that caught his eyes immediately,his eyes winded as he saw Y/N's bulge through his pants,he started to slowly move his hands towards Y/N's bulge as you were sleeping,just wanting to feel it but stopped himself and instantly backed away "okay Steve...just go to the shower." he said quietly as blush appeared on his face,he instantly rushed towards the bathroom leaving Y/N's unconscious body on the bed.

7:15 PM: MONDAY

"ugh" Y/N mumbled as he started to open his eyes.Seeing the light hurted his eyes for a bit but then his eyes got used to the lights,he got up and started looking at the room wondering where he is "where am I?..." Y/N said confused as he started walking but then bumped into a person "Oh your awake kid?" Steve said as he stood In front of Y/N,his perfect body still being wet and dripping some water,his big pecs which are better than any tits,his abs,his muscular arms,and the towel that was the problem right now because it was the only thing he was wearing."Oh-I-" "oh my god oh my god,please please stop i am going to get hard" Y/N stood there with blush on his face,frozen and not being able to say anything while standing in front of the muscular adult "M/N?...are you okay?" Steve asked as he put his hand on Y/N's shoulder,Y/N turned his head looking down and seeing he is starting to get turned on,Steve noticed Y/N looking down and he decided to see what he was looking at,he slowly turned his head down just to see Y/N's cock jumping and twitching through his pants,he instantly turned his head up and saw Y/N looking at him "...Did I make this?" Steve asked as he touched the bulge which made Y/N flinch for a second.

Steve looked at the shorter young boy who was blushing and all shy,Y/N couldn't move or do anything,and Steve couldn't risk what he desired,to get dumb fucked by the boy.Steve started to stroke the cock through the boy pants as he kept looking at him "tell me Y/N..do you want to have some fun,since some people think i am boring..but i can make real fun~" Steve said with a seductive voice as he kneeled down to the floor,seeing the boy face clearly made him even more turned on by the situation that he and the boy was in right now."W-What kind of fun?.." Y/N said stuttering while watching the older men that was on the floor stroking his dick through the pants,"oh you will see~" Steve said and instantly took down the pants revealing Y/N's big cock,the guy didn't even wait a second and took the dick inside his mouth,making himself already gag on it.Y/N moaned from the unexpected move Steve made as Steve started to give the shorter guy a blowjob.A gag after another fag followed from the older guy and moan and moan from the younger guy,Y/N couldn't help it but grab Steve's hair and push himself deep inside of his throat making the older men choke,Steve rolled his eyes as saliva was all around Y/N's cock.Y/N throw Steve to the ground as Steve began breathing for air,Y/N grabbed him by the hair and threw him on the bed as the towel fell."So Captain was a little bitch huh..then let me handle you like one~" Y/N said as he grabbed Steve's legs and pulled them towards him,splitting them apart wide open and looking at the breathing shaved white soft hole "W-Wait M/N it may not fit without prep-" "Don't worry Steve..your saliva made my cock wet enough to be used as a lube~" as Y/N said that he spit in his hand and brought it towards Steve's hole,he felt the soft skin of the older male turning him on even more as he couldn't wait anymore.

*slap* a slap was heard,Y/N slapped his hole teasing the older men with his dick as he watched the expression "Please M/N..just put inside of me already!~" Steve begged as he couldn't wait anymore,Steve was needy and that was well known for anyone now."What if it doesn't fit,Captain?" Y/N teased "then either we or I will make it fit" Steve teased back as he made Y/N blush,after hearing those words Y/N instantly put his whole cock inside of Steve's hole which made his eyes go wide open as he moaned by the unexpected move.Steve became a mess as Y/N thrusted more and more "Oh yeeeessss!" Steve said as he moaned "Destroy my hole M/!N,~~" Steve moaned as his hole was getting destroyed "Fuckkking god!~~~" Steve cursed out of enjoyment "What happened Captain,i thought we should watch our language and not curse?" Y/N teased as he continued to thrust every second,his balls hitting Steve's ass,his cock being buried inside of his whore hole "T-The language doesn't matter n-now~~" Steve said with cracks in his voice,Y/N started thrusting faster as Steve act like himself anymore "you like that Captain,making you my little bitch?" Y/N teased with a smirk as the slaps could be heard from miles away "yeeeeeesss~~" Steve said as his eyes rolled back which suprised Y/N making him stop for a second "wait why...why did you stop?" Steve asked as his eyes we're making eye contact with Y/N "i-" "Please M/N don't stop,look what you did to me already~" Steve cut Y/N off,as he finishes his sentence Y/N looked down at his hole and for a second pulled out revealing the wrecked hole of the older man "see..so-so don't stop!~" Steve said with smile and the next second his eyes rolled "Fuck yeah that pussy!" Y/N said as he shove his whole cock inside of Steve's hole and began thrusting again but faster than ever,slaps could be heard miles away as they were made every 1 second "FUCK M/N DESTROY MY LITTLE PUSSY~!!" Steve loudly moaned as he put his hands on Y/N's back "DESTROY MY PUSSY M/N,OWN IT,MAKE ME NOTHING BUT A MESS!" Steve continued as Y/N started to feel himself getting close "PLEASE M/N JUST MAKE ME YOUR BITCH AND OWN ME ALREADY,JUST DESTROY MY LITTLE CUNT AND O-OH-OHH FUCKK~!" Steve finished his sentence with eye rolling again as Y/N hit his spot "RIGHT THERE!,RIGHT THERE M/N! GAPE MY PROSTATE AND MAKE ME YOUR TOY~!" Steve moaned "fuck S-Steve..I..I am feeling really close~" "CUM INSIDE ME M/N!,PLEASE FILL THE INSIDES OF MY PUSSY~!" as Steve finished his begging that made Y/N completely out of control "fuck you pussy is sucking my dick S-So bad!~" Y/N said as he did his final thrust,cum started filling up Steve's soft wrecked hole.

1 PM: WEDNESDAY

"I am so proud of you son" Tony said as he hugged Y/N who of course hugged back,after like 1 minute Tony finally pulled back and looked at Y/N "you grow up so fast,just like how fast you were able to defeat them" Tony smiled "Dad c'mon!,I ain't a baby" "well in my heart you will always be a baby" Tony said as Y/N chuckled "Now you can go,I have to take a call" Tony said as he started walking towards his desk,while Y/N out of the door,he came to his room and as Y/N opened the door and entered,closing it and as he turned around he was stunned "Hello Y/N" Steve said as he came closer to younger guy,Steve was wearing nothing but a towel,he dropped the towel as he revealed himself wearing Captain America jockstrap "you dealt so good with the villains that I think you deserve an award" Steve said with a smirk on his as Y/N looked at him.

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anundyingfidelity · 10 months

Text

THE SCENE — Will Poulter x fem reader

Summary: you're in a romantic comedy with Will Poulter and kind of develop a small crush on him. After a hot make out scene, you can't stop thinking about him.

Pairing: Will Poulter x fem!reader.

Word count: 2.8k.

Warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, handjobs, couch sex, semi clothed sex, overstimulation, usual dirty language and dirty stuff.

Notes: Reader is around 38 (in my head) and Will is 30 because I fucking need some Will with an older woman and I need him in a romantic comedy so bad right now and this is me trying to fulfil my fantasy as well. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this filthy shit. Anything is welcome.

>> disclaimer: i totally respect the private lifes of the actors and celebrities i use for my fanfictions, and of course their personal relationships. this is only fiction written for fun and nothing more.

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

Finally, he kissed you. But it wasn't just a simple kiss. It was a hungry, needy kiss. Something you longed for since you both met on set.

He pressed his body against yours, his big frame over you, his fingers caressing your cheek until he reached the skin of your neck. His touch made you ache, and he wasn't even down there, where you needed him the most.

As you gasped between kisses, his hands traveled down your hips, until he grabbed your ass, in a harshly way. His big palms squeezing your skin through the pencil skirt. Will broke the kiss, scanning your swollen lips and big eyes, before he pulled you up from the floor only to sit you on the kitchen island, and him now standing between your legs.

It was your turn to kiss him. You pulled him for a sloppy kiss as your lips crashed together again, inviting his tongue to taste your mouth. He started to take off the buttons of your blouse, leaving it open to see your covered breasts, and hungrily you invite his hands to feel your exposed skin. He touched, under your guidance, and felt the heat of your body against him.

Your hands then moved to his trousers, undoing them as fast as you can between kisses. Will pulled you closer, if that was even possible, pressing your bodies together. You grinded against him, and felt his increasing arousal. His growing erection wasn't something he could hide; and this made you crazy, for him and his touch.

His hips moved, thrusting into you, feeling your heat against his clothed crotch, and his lips moved to your neck, placing soft kisses on your skin. It made you gasp and whimper softly, and you thought you'd come just by the friction your bodies were creating...

"Cut!"

The director's voice made you stop.

You almost forgot you were actually acting a heavy make out scene with Will Poulter.

"Are you okay?" you asked sweetly once you stopped, trying to keep it professional.

Will nodded and breathed out. "Yeah, are you alright?"

"I am," you smiled.

He helped you to get on your feet and the staff quickly came to fix yours and his clothing, while listening to the praising from your director and the crew on what you just did. The blonde, tall man blushed a little.

The film was a new romantic comedy, with you and Will on the lead. You played a prestigious boss of an important magazine and Will was the new, naive intern on the company. Will's character was younger than the your character and he fell for your character in an instant. So this scene was the peak of their relationship, where both finally give in to each other.

Unlike you, you fell for Will in real life.

Will's character was clumsy, cute, really kind and hardworking, exactly like him. He was shy when you met at first but as time went by you learned to enjoy each other's company and, in fact, you got along very well.

You sighed, finally this was your last scene for the day, so the crew and the director wrapped up everything, and you finished another long shift of filming. After the scene, you left the set saying thank you to everyone and smiling a lot more than you pretended to Will. God, you were so into him.

The crew took you to hair and make up to take off the clothes for the scene and clean your face. It was late at night, so after that, you went back to your hotel. The only thing on your mind was him. Him touching you, him kissing you, him adoring and worshiping your body in just a few minutes was driving you crazy.

Maybe it was just a mere coincidence, but once you waited for the elevator to arrive, Will appeared by your side. A shy smile on his lips. Your cheeks heated and your body ached, the images of his hands roaming your figure appeared on your head again.

"Almost over," Will said. "The filming, I mean..."

"Yeah, thankfully," you responded almost immediately.

The elevator doors opened. Will let you get in first and he followed behind. You were the only two people inside the elevator and in silence you arrived to your floor. It wasn't good that you were staying on the same floor, only a room apart. At least, not for you.

You started to walk away, with a smile, and suddenly felt like you had to do something. Anything to talk to him, to have him closer.

"Actually, I was wondering if you'd like to have a drink or something?" the question came out of your mouth without thinking twice, and it certainly caught Will out of guard, judging by the look on his face.

He was standing a couple feet away from you, ready to enter his room, but he stopped from doing so.

"That would be lovely," he said.

"Then, wanna come in?" you asked, playfuly, knowing he would follow.

Will chuckled and you let him in your room. It was a small suite, with a living room and a bedroom. The moment Will entered the place, he thought it had all your aura in it, a proper hotel room for a star like you. Someone whom he really admired a lot from afar, and you had no idea about it.

"Anything special you'd like?" you asked Will, after saying he could sit on the couch. You opened the fridge and his answer was a little weird for you.

"Water will do, thank you."

You glanced at him, your brows furrowed.

"Really, water's fine," his lips put on a pretty, shy look on his face. But you said nothing, grabbing a glass of water and if this was going to go his way, you took water for yourself too.

You offered him the glass and he gladly accepted it as you took yours and made yourself comfortable in the couch, leaving just a little space between both of you.

"I can't believe we're only a couple of days to finish here," Will broke the silence first. God, how much you loved hearing his voice.

"Me neither, hasn't been that long..." you replied. I wish it never ended, at least not yet, you thought.

Suddenly, Will called your name and it slipped from his mouth like the sweetest thing you've ever heard him say. He started to think perfectly his words. "Um I really enjoy working with you," he said. "And you're awesome, and I'm your fan- sorry if it's weird."

A wide smile was on your lips and you felt heat rising on your face. "I enjoy the time with you as well."

The chat went smoothly, with him praising your work and you did the same with Will. He respected you a lot since you were older than him and you had a prominent career he followed closely before. It was nice to have him in your place, alone, without the pressure of doing a perfect scene or your crew around. Even when the british man was just being sweet and making some jokes through your conversation, all you could think about was the heated scene you shared today. On the way his hands traveled down your skin, how his lips felt soft, and the way he was pressing your body to his... A new wave of silence filled the place as you finished your glass of water and placed it on the coffee table, his empty glass was already there.

"You know, I couldn't stop thinking about our scene today..."

"Oh, yeah? Why's that?" you asked, curious. You could swear you were closer to him now, your legs almost touching. A small blush appeared on his face at the way your eyes looked at him.

"Well, you're you," he mumbled. "And you're wonderful and beautiful..."

"Well, you're beautiful too, and I like you," you didn't mean to say those last words but it was done now. His eyes went wide. Well, now he knew. Will barely gasped and licked his lips. And you just wanted nothing more but kiss him. Now.

He remained quiet, so you decided to make your first move and slowly, you leaned in to kiss his lips. It was short but he closed his eyes and enjoyed the warm feeling. It started soft and delicate, until his hand tangled in your hair, playing with it gently. You whimpered in the middle of the kiss.

"God, you're so gorgeous," you breathed against his lips, taking in every inch and detail of his face. His plump lips and his darkening eyes filled with lust and his furrowed brows were everything you wanted to keep on your mind forever.

You moved until you finally were sitting on his lap, each leg on his sides, and kissed him, this time, you were impatient. Gladly, Will followed your pace, letting you guide him through it while your hips moved slowly, grinding against his crotch.

Will gasped against your mouth, his big hands went down on your sides smoothly. His erection was evident and he found himself not able to control the rolls of his hips, your core already aching and dripping for him. Your small moans were swallowed by his mouth and you continued with the friction your now heated bodies created.

Suddenly, you broke the kiss to get some air and studied the look on his face. It was pure lust. Just exactly how you felt.

"Why you accepted my invitation if you wanted just water?"

"I wanted to be with you," he answered, biting his lip.

"Well, then undress me."

And he did as you ordered. You got on your feet and Will took off your blouse and your pants swiftly but gently at the same time, your bra ended up somewhere on the carpeted floor along with your panties. Finally exposed, you climbed on top of him again with such confidence, that his blue eyes wandered in every inch of your skin. He thought you were perfect like this.

Taking his hand you guided him to your core. And how wet you were by now. He rubbed your folds and your clit, as he left soft butterfly kisses on your neck, inhaling your scent. Your skin was heating and your heart racing. And his touch felt like heaven. His fingers teased your slit and you rocked your hips to feel him where you needed the most.

You didn't care he was still fully clothed, all that mattered was his digits playing with your cunt and his other hand running from your leg to one of your breasts to squeeze your flesh gently. Quickly, you found his belt and undid his trousers. Will breathed against the crook of your neck as your hand ghosted over his now tight boxers, throbing for you. You moaned as one of his long digits entered you, your spine curled. The feeling of getting stretched and ready was too much, and his agonizing slow rhythm made your body ask for more.

The heat between your legs ached and you met the thrusts of his hand rolling your hips, your hand palming him hardly through the fabric while he increased the pace of his finger, adding a second one soon enough. Will used his other hand to hold your waist, fucking your pussy with his fingers, clearly saying he wanted to guide the flow of what you were starting.

"Oh, Will, please," you whimpered, and leaned down to kiss him, eager. Your hands released his cock from his boxers and your palm worked on his hard dick, using the precum of his tip to create friction. Once you pulled away from the kiss you met with his flushed face, scrunched eyes, licking his lips with his tongue... he looked so pretty like that, under your touch and the small control you gathered before was back.

So you continued pumping him, the living room of your suite now was filled with the obscene noises of your pussy as his fingers thrusted into you and your hand pumping him. His eyes opened slowly and met your dark gaze, Will did not stop fucking your cunt, until you grabbed his wrist with your hand, his hard cock now free from your palm. He pulled out his fingers, glistening because of your juices and you took them in your mouth, tasting yourself. His muscles tighten, he felt like he would cum right there just by the licks of your tongue on his fingers, until you cleaned them good.

"I felt you getting hard today..."

You started to take off the buttons of his dress shirt, exposing a little of his well-built chest, hands ghosting over his soft skin.

"I- I couldn't help it," Will gasped, his big hands grabbing your sides.

You smirked. "I know."

And with those words, you sinked down on his cock, your walls pulsed around him as he filled you little by little, until the curve of your ass met the fabric of his trousers under your bare flesh. He let out a low moan and your pussy clenched around him. You were more than ready to take him.

"Oh, fuck," he moaned, hypnotized on how good you felt.

So you ride him, holding yourself on his shoulders, with his hands gripping your hips, and you feel his dick deeply every time you sink down again into him, your tits bouncing, and both your moans and his groans mix together. And you realized then that you're finally connected, just as how you fantasized, exactly how you used to dream wide awake.

You realize you're riding him, fully naked, on the couch of your suite, while he was almost dressed. And you loved it. You loved the way he let you fuck yourself on him, and how his big and strong hands remained on your skin, how his fingers moved to cup your breasts. He felt like heaven.

A familiar sensation starts building down your belly, and your walls squeeze his cock as you bounce repeatedly. So close. So fucking close to the sweet end. Your body was desperate to reach the edge and release the tension you had saved for so long, just to have this moment with him. His grip grew rough on your hips, but Will remained still, and you knew it was taking a huge amount of self-control to buck his hips and thrust into you.

And finally, you exploded cursing under your breath, leaning your forehead against his. Moans and whimpers escaped your lips, your pussy clenching around his shaft, but you took a while to slow down and you held tightly on him. The wetness of your cunt sliding down your inner thighs.

"Fuck me," you gasped, still riding out your orgasm. "Fuck me like this until you cum."

And without a word, he did. His hard grip made you remain still, his hips rocking at a brutal pace, you were still sensitive from your orgasm, but it truly didn't care. He was already twitching inside of you and your whole body trembled. Your fingers tangled on his blonde, soft curls, while biting your lip to hold back your moans.

Will was so close to his own peak, his thrusts became erractic and breathy moans left his lips. You were also sure his grip would leave marks on your body, but that was more than okay. It would be perfect to remember how good he was making you feel and how hard he made you cum... Everything was more than perfect and every thrust made you crazy, aching for more of him and how deep he felt inside of your spasming walls...

With a last powerful thrust, he emptied himself inside you, spilling his seed deep inside of your cunt with a shattered breath against the crook of your neck. You just wished to stay like this forever, with him moving you on top of him gently, milking every drop of him.

Your body felt weak, but you smiled, panting and moving to see his beautiful sweaty face. He was completely spent, as much as you were. His hands caressed your thighs in a gentle way, and you pecked his nose, tasting the salty sweat running down his skin.

"This was so good," you mumbled.

"You feel good," Will answered, now he kissed your lips. "You feel better than I ever thought..."

You chuckled. "So you also imagined something before."

"A lot, in fact," he nodded, smiling and kissing your cheek, lips tracing the features on your face.

"Mind sharing some of them later? Maybe in the shower?" you suggested.

"Darling, you don't even have to ask."

The sweetness of his deep voice and the dark meaning of his words sent shivers down your spine. This was going to be a long night.

#will poulter x reader #will poulter smut #will poulter x female reader #will poulter x you #will poulter imagines #adam warlock x reader #will poulter imagine #the bear #will poulter fanfiction #luca the bear

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esteljune · 5 months

Text

Some more {P x reader} rambling

I just can't stop thinking that Pinocchio was born a mere artisanal work, a puppet though amazingly detailed and human-like made to obey. Even if he's not subject to the grand covenant, his duty is to be a good boy so he never experienced nor understood fully feelings towards him.

So, when you'd cry for him, for the injustice he suffered during his brief existence, when you'd sigh of relief seeing him coming back in one piece, instinctively wrapping your arms around the tense and cold line of his shoulders, Pinocchio would stay perfectly still, puzzled. Your warm soft body pressed against his tall hard shape, your heart beating wildly on his chest would be almost unphatomable for him.

Gaining humanity though P would start to understand, slowly but still. Slowly he'd start to think he can deserve kindness and love, that he needs them, to feel the warmth of a body, the gentle stroke of loving fingers.

So he would not remain impassive, short-circuited anymore. Pinocchio would return your hug, goofy at first, suddenly self conscious of that freezing hard body of him.

But still he doesn't want to let go. Now the hammering in your chest reflects itself in the pounding machinery inside his body.

Pinocchio never was very much of a chatterbox. Since you two met he would pretty much nod, hum and say a word or two from time to time in the flattiest voice and a blank expression.

But in time he'd start asking you questions. That's pretty much the way he uses to express trust and closeness. He does not simply seek for knowledge, he wants you to answer. Same goes for feelings.

P could be giving you a hard time with that, because he's pure and clueless. You might fall SO hard for his look: confused and somewhat pained.

"Tears... Are you crying for me?"

"Your heart is pounding. It's me?"

_______________________________

And yet again this turned out sooooo long. I'm sorry 🙏

I hope this whole thing makes sense. I'm desperate for some content on P. I really need to start writing a fanfiction.

Ps. That screenshot gives me so much life OMG

#lies of p #lies of p pinocchio #lies of p x reader #p x reader #pinocchio x reader #pinocchio #lop #my stuff #my writing #lies of p headcanons #lies of p headcanon

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eloravaleria · 5 months

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♡ missed you • draco malfoy ♡

cw // 18+, smut, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering

a.n // this is my first time writing fanfiction, especially smut, and english isn't my first language

It was the last day of winter break. Many students were coming back from their time away. Draco's eyes immediately lit up when she entered the Great Hall. She smiled when she saw him. She approached him and his friends, greeting everyone kindly.

As soon as they finished eating, Draco and Elora left together. They walked through the halls of Hogwarts, arm in arm. Since Elora was the Head Girl, it meant that she had no roommates, something Draco and her took advantage of a lot.

When they arrived in her room, Draco immediately pushed her against the door and kissed her. "I missed you so much," he said in between kisses. He leaned down to kiss her neck, pulling sweet noises from her.

"I missed you too, Draco," she said, her voice trembling with pleasure. "I needed this," she said, panting between kisses. Her voice was so soft and sweet that he could have listened to her all day. "Please don't stop."

Draco didn't plan on stopping anytime soon. He was eager to have Elora to himself, having not seen her since winter break. He kneeled down in front of her and raised the skirt of her dress. He grabbed her thighs gently and kissed them.

Elora's cheeks were flushed, and her breath was shaky. Draco was doing everything right, making her feel good before moving forward, but she was getting impatient. She wanted more. Much more.

"Please," she gasped, looking down at Draco. "I want you right now." She was bold. She knew what she wanted, and she wasn't afraid to take it as soon as she could.

He grabbed the hem of her panties and slid them down her legs. Draco was eager to please her. He put her legs over his shoulders and kissed her inner thighs. She moaned softly at the feeling. His tongue darted out to lick a strip of her folds. He loved the noises it pulled from her.

Elora felt like she was in heaven. It was as if time had stopped and everything else in the world didn't matter. Only Draco and her were the important things at the moment. She couldn't stop making noises of pleasure.

Her hand went down to his head, holding him as he kept eating her out. She gasped when he pushed his tongue inside her. He held her thighs tightly as she squirmed against him. He pushed his tongue in and out of her, his nose rubbing against her clit as he did so.

He started sucking on her clit as his finger teased her entrance. "Please," she whimpered. He grinned slightly against her skin and slowly pushed his finger inside. He pushed it in and out for a moment, before adding another finger.

He switched between licking and sucking her clit as he fingered her, the pace gradually increasing. He knew exactly what she liked. He turned his head to kiss and nibble at her inner thighs, as he thursted his fingers inside her.

He sped up the pace when he felt her tense up, getting closer to her climax. He leaned in and started sucking on her clit again, wanting to bring her over the edge.

"Come on, love. Cum for me," he mumbled against her skin as he curled his fingers up, touching her gspot. Her head fell back against the door, mouth open wide but no sound coming out, as she finally climaxed. Her legs shooks in his hold as she tightened her grip on his hair. He kept licking her folds and fingering her, prolonging her orgasm.

She finally gasped loudly as she came down from her climax. "Draco!" She whimpered as she pushed on his head slightly, feeling overwhelmed by the pleasure.

He eventually stopped, pulling his fingers out and licking them clean. He set her legs back down and stood up. "I can't get enough of the way you taste," he said as he gently wrapped his hand around her neck to pull her in and kiss her softly. She moaned against his lips as she tasted herself on them.

#draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x oc #harry potter smut #harry potter fandom #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco smut #draco malfoy imagine #smut

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reginaaxxwrites · 1 year

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Almost a Regret (Sebastian Sallow)

I'm back!! This is not Harry Potter Fanfiction but rather a Hogwarts Legacy. I just watched the gameplay and immediately fell in with Sebastian Sallow. So I decided to write a fanfic about him because why not?

*****

Sebastian Sallow x Fem!Reader

*****

"Avada Kedav--" The timing was perfect. She blasted a spell on him before he could kill his uncle.

"Anne! Go. Now!" She commands her. Anne was next to her uncle. She was angry and hurt, so she decided to destroy the book.

"Bombarda!" She cast. The book was completely burned and destroyed.

"Goodbye, brother," Anne said to her twin brother before disapparating together with Solomon.

They went silent for a few moments before she went closer and grabbed him by his robes. MC decided to leave so they could give them privacy.

Sebastian was still leaning between the wall and the floor. His hand was on his stomach while enduring the pain because Y/N cast her spell on him too strongly. But she didn't regret it.

"Y/N..." He started. But she glared at him. Her fists turned white from gripping his robes. She was starting to cry. And he could tell that she was restraining herself.

He knew that she had every right to be mad at him. He was about to do something he'll regret for the rest of his life.

This was different. Sebastian knew this was the worst he was about to receive from her. She was always a woman of words. But this time, she was quiet, glaring at him.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't." Her voice was shaking from anger. "What the hell were you thinking?! You could've killed him! Your own uncle, Seb..." She was hurting. Sebastian couldn't look at her. It was because he can't control his emotions. It was letting him do things he'll regret.

"I know you love your sister. And I do too. Merlin knows how much I cherish the two of you. And I know whatever happened to Anne pains you, pains all of us." Her tears started to fall. She hated it when she cries.

"I can cure her. I know I can." He said, looking at the book that his sister destroyed.

"Please, just stop..." She whispered. Her hands left his robes. Sebastian could feel his anger. Stop? How could he stop? His sister is sick. She might die and he won't let that happen.

Y/N was her sister's best friend. Why is she giving up on her?

"This is Anne we're talking about, Y/N! Why is everyone giving up on her?!"

"I'm not giving up on her!" She defended. She was really not. But Anne was rather the one who was giving up.

"This is about what Anne wants, Seb. This is about giving her what she wants. Have you ever thought of that? Maybe even asked her?"

"Then, what does she want?"

"To end this madness! To stop you from getting yourself into trouble that'll ruin you. To stop you, to save you from your obsession with finding a cure!"

Sebastian didn't know what to say. After all this time, they still have each other's back. They were saving each other and it was starting to hurt both of them.

"Anne... Anne already accepts her fate. It pained me, truly. I tried to talk and convince her that we'll find another way to save her. Nobody wants her to die. I do not want her to die." She tried to look at him. But he couldn't.

"I don't want her to die." His voice was starting to crack.

"I know."

"I'm sorry." He tried to apologize again.

"Not to me. To Anne and Solomon." She was about to wipe her tears but Sebastian beat her into it.

He fixed his position to face her properly.

"I owe you an apology, Y/N. I am truly, deeply sorry. If you hadn't blasted a spell on me, I could've done something horrible. And--"

"Anne will never forgive you."

"Precisely. I'm already losing her. I can't do something she'll hate and curse me forever." He pulled her closer to him for a hug.

"Thank you. Thank you, Y/N." He kissed her temple while caressing her body.

"What for?"

"For everything." He slowly let go of the hug. His hands found their way to her waist. Their heads were getting closer. They can feel their breath, exchanging as if they breathe for each other.

"Guys," MC realized they came at bad timing. Y/N immediately pulled away from Sebastian. But he didn't remove his hands from her waist.

"I'm really sorry." They apologized.

"It's not necessary, really." She said. Sebastian stood up and helped her to get up on her feet.

"Could you turn your back for a bit?" Sebastian politely asked his friend. They nodded and did what they were told.

Sebastian immediately grabbed her waist and pulled her into a kiss. She was surprised but continued to kiss him back anyway. The kiss was short yet it calmed their aching hearts.

"You just got yourself detention, Sallow. And do not forget to apologize to Anne. Especially to your uncle. As well as you." She called MC, who just turned to face them again and nodded at her. They almost forgot that she was a prefect.

"Will do, ma'am." He answered and then kisses her forehead.

*****

How did I do? After months of being on hiatus. I'm not sure my writing skills improved. But then again, it's good to be back. Thank you for your support. I love you guys!

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #slytherin #sebastian sallow fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy mc #sebastian x mc #hogwarts legacy sebastian

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leilani-lily · 3 months

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~Oh Deer~ (Chapter 1)

... So this idea for an Alastor x reader (kinda?) story popped in my brain, and has refused to leave me no matter how hard I try.

Have I written fanfiction recently? Hell no.

Do I even know how to write for an AroAce character? No but I'm gonna do my damndest to represent him properly (and also relying on outer sources so I'm not offending anyone).

Do I feel like a complete fool for being sucked back into the fanfiction world and re-entering with a freakin Hazbin Hotel fic? ABSOOOO-FREAKIN-LUTELY.

But here we are. The writing gods have spoken. And they have declared that I write this story out so my poor brain can focus on other things like work.

Figured I'd share so it's just not on my computer all lonely. Will be a slow burn so fair warning. Let's be real, the deer boi needs love. But not overly romantic love. Just, someone he ends up really caring about and becoming his favourite.

SYNOPSIS: AroAce! Alastor x Chef!Singer! Reader. The hotel is looking to hire a chef to prepare meals for the staff/guests. Somehow you're hired and you begin your new life. And somehow end up becoming close to a certain Radio Demon. Word Count: 1.8 K

Chapter 1 under the cut. Enjoy I guess? ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Ok, deep breaths y/n. Remember to smile.

You felt your lips curl up into a strained grin as if to fight off the nerves in your chest, your grip tightening on the flyer in your fist. This could go either two ways. One, you get the job and are able to live a life of somewhat normality. Or two, you get hung from the tippy top of the building by your own intestines. With your legs chopped off. And one of your arms sticking out of your ass.

Gotta love Hell and it’s creative subjects.

You shake your head out of those terrible thoughts, surely it wouldn’t be that bad?? When you saw the original broadcast on the 666 News, you couldn’t stop thinking how nice the Princess of Hell actually was. And building an entire hotel to help her subjects reform into something better was, perhaps a little optimistic in your opinion, but it made you admire her gumption and her love for her subjects.

So later when you found the flyer in search of a chef at the very same establishment the princess was hoping to fill… well, it somehow managed to get you all the way here. Standing at the doorsteps of the very lonely looking hotel on the hill.

You had to admit it wasn’t the look you had imagined, but hey, this was Hell. You had seen worse. And everyone has to start somewhere. Including yourself, arm still poised ready to knock yet not yet making the motion.

You felt so stupid, you had been standing here for almost 10 minutes now just trying to get the courage to enter the damn building. You sigh to yourself and shake out the jitters. Alright, let’s just do this. Once again, you smile, puff out your chest and raise your arm high in the air, ready to strike with a newfound courage.

“Well folks, looks like the little lady is finally ready to take the leap! Will she follow through with her actions? Or will she choke and back out of the fight? Let’s tune in and find out~”

You felt your heart nearly leap out of your chest as you whip your head around to look behind you. A tall demon clad in red and ruby eyes stood behind you, a wickedly wide grin filling his face as he points what appears to be a microphone in your direction. You stare at it dumbly, then make eye contact with him again. He remains poised, half lidded eyes seeming to hold a sparkle of impish joy. His eyes flicker from you, to your raised arm, and back to you. After a embarrassingly long time of connecting the dots, you finally extend your arm closer to the door, never breaking focus on the demon behind you (you can't help but notice he raises his microphone even closer to you), and give the door a good solid knock.

“AND SHE’S DONE IT FOLKS, what a display!!” He pulls the microphone back to himself, as you continue to stare dumbfounded “The form, the elegance, it could almost make a grown Imp cry. Let's give her a hand people.” He begins to clap as a roar of applause plays from… somewhere.

You couldn’t tell if this guy was being sarcastic or genuine, but the whole absurdity of it all, plus the bundle of nerves you were feeling earlier, seemed to bubble up inside of you and you couldn't help a little snort escape. The red demon’s grin widened as he ceases his clapping, stepping closer to you as you continue to giggle.

“Ahhh now isn’t that better. A much nicer smile than the one you were faking earlier. Besides, there’s no need to be so shy my dear. This hotel is always happy to accept wayward demons looking for reformation!”

Upon hearing his words, you turn to face him and put your hands up “Oh nono, I’m not here to-”

“Ohoho~! and what’s this you have here?” Before you can finish your sentence, the tall demon ripped the flyer out of your hand and inspected it quickly, before turning back to you. His half-lidded gaze was now round with surprise, his grin becoming even wider (which you didn’t even think was possible).

“So THAT explains the nerves from before! And here I was just thinking you were a timid little thing. But a business woman! Now that I can admire.” He smiles at you almost impressed and leans in closer, your noses almost touching.

“Tell me my dear, can you make a good jambalaya? Or perhaps a hearty gumbo with cornbread on the side~?”

You were so flustered with the speed of everything happening (plus the close proximity of this demon you had just met certainly didn’t help). All you could manage was a jumbled “Uhh, well yes I-!”

“WONDERFULLLL~!" He straightens up again and you sigh with relief. “I’ll be sure to test you on such skills. But for now we should-”

The front doors of the hotel suddenly burst open and a short gray female stands before you, with long silvery hair and an eyepatch. She looks at you for a moment, before turning her gaze at the red demon and giving him a scowl.

“Alastor, what the HELL took you so long, you should’ve been back ages ago. And quit creeping out new potential clients.” Her gaze adverts back to you, expression softening ever so slightly, “Seriously, if he’s bothering you-” “Oh Vaggie my dear, no need to be so hostile. I was simply going over business with our newest chef!” he brings his long fingers up behind your shoulder and pulls you in close against his chest, making you yelp a moment before regaining composure. You could sense this so-called 'Vaggie' demon tense, eyes flickering between the two of you. You felt as if your brain was sputtering to catch up with the current conversation (he WORKS here??!) before finally realizing what he had just called you. You sneak a look at him, and he gives you a quick wink before focusing back on the female before him.

“Now be a doll and have Nifty tidy up one of the rooms, preferably one of a reasonable size and close to the kitchen. And call upon Charlie as well, she’ll DEFINITELY want to meet our newest addition!”

The female in front of you shot a glare at Alastor (you quickly noted these two did not seem to get along), but then flicked her gaze back at you. After a moment, she sighed and turned back into the building as she followed the male demon’s orders. You couldn’t help but notice how Alastor’s grip on you tightened ever so slightly as a chuckle escaped his lips, static humming ever so louder in amusement. He himself began to walk into the hotel, guiding you along with him.

"Now then. We’ll have to introduce you to everyone, as well as get you to fill in the proper paperwork, give you a proper tour of the place and-!”

“Wait wait,” you stop walking, causing him to halt. You notice a slight twitch in his eye and his hand squeezes you for a moment. He doesn’t like to be interrupted, duly noted. You take a breath.

“Sorry, uh for interrupting” That seemed to please him. “But does this mean… I got the job?? You don’t need a resume or a test or…?”

Alastor let out a guffaw of amusement “Why of course my dear! As long as you remain true to your word of being able to cook a good New Orleans dish, that’s all the proof I’ll need! There hasn’t been many a demon coming here interested in the job, so I say your timing couldn’t be more perfect!”

Well that was the easiest damn interview you’ve ever done. You felt yourself exhale a sigh of relief as you smile up to the tall demon.

“Wow, that’s… that’s amazing, thank you so much.” He gave you a half lidded smirk, clearly enjoying being praised “So… does this make you my boss, Mr…?”

You heard the sound of a record screech as his eyes widened in surprise. Hand finally leaving your shoulder and placing it on his own chest he began to laugh heartilly, a laugh track playing in the background. You stood there confused for a moment before he finally responded.

“Ohhh my goodness me, my mother would be rolling in her grave if she ever heard about this. How rude of me to be so forward without properly introducing myself!” One minute he was standing right beside you, and then the next he had sunken like a shadow into the floor, only to appear in front of you a few steps ahead. With grace and suave you didn’t realize he possessed, he gave a small hand flourish before bowing in front of you.

“I am Alastor, also known as the Radio Demon. I happen to be the Hotel’s Facility Manager, but you’ll find Miss Morningstar is the real ringleader around here,” You notice the corner of his lip twitch at that last remark, but you pay no mind to it. “If you ever have any questions or concerns, do not hesitate to reach out to me.” You smile and dip yourself in your own little curtsy as he straightens up.

“My name is y/n, and I’ll be sure to do my best to serve you and this hotel, sir.” Alastor seemed to hum with approval as he looks down at you. “I guess I just have one more question for you, if that’s alright.”

“Why of course dear y/n, whatever would it be?”

“Well, I uh…” You feel yourself becoming flustered at the question, and the radio demon seemed to notice. Cocking a head to the side, he takes a step forward, opening his arms into a friendly gesture.

“Come now dearest, you can ask me anything! If we’re going to be working together, we have to be honest with each other~” You look up at him and sigh, knowing he was right. With a gulp you straighten your back and wear a serious expression.

“How long did you see me standing by the door?”

Alastors face didn’t waver, it was hard to tell what was going on in his mind. Then his smile grew into what looked like an amused, smug expression before answering.

“The whole time.”

You groaned and felt your head slap against your hand, making Alastor burst into laughter yet again at your expense. He was there watching the entire time?? Satan’s Ass you felt like such an idiot. Was he waiting for you to move so he could get in the building?? The more you thought about it the more you wanted to sink into the floor and die, for a 2nd time. The radio demon wiped a stray tear from his eye.

“Ohhhh y/n, what a riot you are. I can already tell that this is going to be fun~”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

First chapter hoorayyy ♡〜٩( ˃▿˂ )۶〜♡ Not sure how often I'll be updating, hopefully soon as I'm currently inspired. Thanks for reading thus far!FIRST (You're here!) PREVIOUS (Doesn't exist ( • ᴗ - ) ✧) NEXT

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #oh deer #leilani-lily

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moonystoes · 2 months

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Nurse? - Elisa De Almeida x reader (highschool students)

Summary: When the school has never felt this empty, you decide to escape the students by helping out the nurse. Only to find out you can't escape her.

Warning: yap sesh I'm sorry, confusion??(girl me too idk), an annoying guy x

Wc: 5.670k

A/n: Ugh writing the summary is worse than the whole fic wtf. Also finding pics and trying to make the coloring match is shit I'm sorry LMFAO. Apologies for the late post, I've been going through it in school. and as I said again, im pretty new to writing so constructive criticism or advice is needed :)

Part one

This is FANfiction. Please don't view Elisa this way.

“Do you know who you're going to prom with?” You turned to look at Sam, walking down the school hallway to your shared class. Prom has been a topic of conversations since they first revealed it two months ago. Now, prom will happen in two weeks, and all the young teens are procrastinating to look for partners.

“Ugh, no! I don't even know why our school decided to add this thing. We don't have to copy Americans, let them do their thing and we will do our thing.” She groaned loudly. You looked around you, noticing people glancing at her weirdly.

“Okay… but the students voted for it, not the school. So technically it's our fault.” You whispered, tugging her closer to remind her to lower her voice. You thought about who might ask you out. Xavi has been eyeing you for a while, but he was caught creating fake Instagram accounts to catfish girls. So there is no possible way of you agreeing to go with him. Edward was a year older than you, and you've been chatting with him at lunch. As much as you enjoyed the conversations with him, you didn't feel anything with him. He was the most attractive guy in his grade, his hazel eyes and dark skin made the girls swoon around him. For you, his personality isn't as attractive as his face, therefore you aren't crazy about him.

Then there is Paul, your childhood friend. You've known him since first grade, sitting together at the school park. In your head, you had imagined your friendship to stay forever, until you both get jobs and live close to each other. But after the both of you hit puberty, he started to act weird and felt uncomfortable around you. You hated it, but you knew it was bound to happen anyways.

It also didn't help you how attractive he grew to be, his short dark hair matched his brown eyes but also contrasted with his pale skin. His soft smile and attentive personality made many of the girls attach to his hip. You were never insecure about your looks, but now you started to question yourself. Did he stop our friendship because I was too ugly?

At some point, some of the girls came up to you and asked what he likes so they can ‘buy him a gift’. Your response was an easy lie, ‘I don't remember, it's been years.’

That doesn't make you guys strangers, he still comes and talks to you every once in a while, just like now.

“Hey y/n… can we talk privately?” Paul startled you. You turned to look at him with confusion, the last time you talked to each other was last month when he asked for the English homework (which you reluctantly gave to him out of kindness… and because you're a people pleaser). You glanced at Sam to check if she's okay with you leaving her, she gave you a small nod and left the both of you alone.

“So… have any plans for the winter dance? Or prom I don't even know what it is.” He awkwardly grabbed your arm and pulled you to the side of the corridor to not interrupt the people walking.

“Are you asking me out as your date?” You questioned slowly.

“What! No…i mean yes. Do you want to come with me?” He shook his head, obviously distracted with something. You stayed silent for a few seconds to think about it. You aren't a ‘party’ person, but the winter prom is a new thing and you wanted to experience it for once. Paul was a complicated guy, he wouldn't talk to you for months and then approach you like nothing happened. At least when he does approach you, he treats you right, or that’s what you thought.

“Sure…do you have any planning? For the dress or just the day as a whole?” You asked. Everytime you watch an American teen movie, you imagine yourself and Mr. Perfect together at a shop buying a dress, the shocked face when they see you going down the stairs all glammed up, going to dinner before prom, and having a soft kiss at the dance…. Although now you don't really feel like sharing your first kiss with Paul.

“Oh?... What thing for the dress? And no, I didn't volunteer for the dance so I didn't plan anything with the organizers,” And just like that your hopes were crushed, of course a 14 year old boy wouldn't know a thing about romance. He clearly didn't care about what dress you'll wear, or what the both of you would do before the event. You shook your head with a sigh, faking a smile and walking past him to your class. “Ohhh! I did vote for you for prom queen… you know? So we both can be like ‘famous’. You should vote for me, if that's what you mean.”

You felt disappointed, pretending not to hear him and walked into your first class. Great. He ruined your day and it just started.

Your parents were excited when you told them about Paul asking you. Of course, they've known him for years and his parents are in touch with yours. You were at the store trying to look for an ‘age appropriate’ dress. Your father is staying in the car, obviously fed up with the indecisive behaviors from you and your mom.

“Look, this is great!” You heard your mom cheer from the back of the store, she came up to you with a flower print dress and a bright smile on her face.

“Mom, it looks like I work on a farm.” You sighed, turning to the other side where there are dresses lined up.

“Are you serious? It looks amazing. I like it!” Yeah, you like it. You turned to look at it again, but the sadness in your mother's face caught you off guard. So you decided to lie. You grabbed the dress from her hand and turned it to see it ‘from every angle’.

“You know what? I think it's great. And it's not expensive like the other dresses here.” You faked a smile and looked at the cashier that was standing uncomfortably close to the both of you. You handed her the dress and both went to the checkout.

For you, making decisions isn't something you care about. Everytime you think of something, you'd agree with the others because at the end of the day ‘it's not that serious’. Sometimes, your friends end up scolding you for choosing people's happiness over yours. But when you turned to glance at your mother's happy smile, it was worth it.

Wed 19th of December 2012

The next week, Paul had thrown your prom ticket into your locker with no message or any indication. At least he bought you the ticket. Sam has gotten sick as well as the other two girls close to the both of you. She had sent you a message saying she probably won't be at prom, explaining in great details of her vomit and sickness.

You felt all alone and the class has never felt emptier. Fleur had a major knee injury from football practice, two guys were suspended for a fight. Students are calling this week a curse, considering that it's wednesday and prom will just be in a few days. The filled class now is almost half empty, making the class feel quiet.

“Okay…since most of the students are absent, we won't take a lesson today,” Cheers erupted from the class, happy to not have biology. “I'm not done! You will be partnered up to discuss prom preparations.”

The atmosphere changed from cheering to groaning in a second. You glanced at Paul, wondering if he would be your partner. You hoped that Paul would realize he has responsibilities for prom today when the both of you discuss it. But as the teacher started labeling the partners, you realized that it doesn't matter who is your date, she is randomly assigning them.

“Elisa and Marie you don't need to sit at the back anymore, the class is practically empty. Elisa, you sit with y/n. Katoto, sit with Adam.” You sighed frustratingly, why her? During the two months of school, she has been treating you like dirt. Ignoring you and always avoiding you. Whenever teachers put you in groups, she'd ask the teacher if she can be partnered with Fleur instead.

But she's been more open and relaxed now, and it's somehow freaking you out. She has made some friendships there and there with the other girls. She laughs louder, jokes more with her side of the class. And even if her ignorance towards you confused you at first, it wasn’t why you were freaked out. It's how she treats the girls in class. It's like the guys…but gentler? She stares at Amy the same way the guys do, with heart eyes. And all of this frustrates you, because why is she looking at Amy like that? She's not supposed to like Amy. And why is she treating every girl in the class sweetly except you?

Everytime you catch her looking at Amy, you remember that Quora comment. Admittedly, you've been thinking about it everyday for the past 2 months. When you’re near her, you stutter and avoid looking at her eyes. Because when Elisa looks at your eyes, she can read you. And although you know you're not necessarily hiding anything, you don't want Elisa to know how she affects you.

Elisa rolled her eyes in annoyance when the teacher told her to move to sit next to you. Of course it would be you. Your bubbly and nice personality makes her sick, because right when it comes to her, you become mute. It feels as though her sitting next to you makes you feel grossed out and disgusted. It doesn't help how Sam glances at the both of you everytime Elisa walks past you. It's like you have told her something about her, that elisa is some sick joke you told her about. Growing up, Elisa realized that not many people liked her. But she didn't care, until it was you.

You were kind and sweet to everyone. Whenever anyone asks for help, you're always there. Whenever you have to be surrounded by people you don't even like, you're still respectful and treat them well. But why is it when it comes to her, you ignore her? Every time she's near you, she sees your uncomfortable glance, she’s already used to it by now, but it still breaks her.

Homophobia isn’t something surprising, it’s everywhere. But again, the most non-judgemental person… you, she didn’t expect you to be just like everyone else.

She threw her bag next to your seat as she sighed. Of course she’s already groaning around you. You rolled your eyes at her dramatic reaction, pulling open your notes to write anything you need for the prom. You wrote ‘dress’ check, ‘hair’... you’ll just straighten it, ‘make up’ you’ll ask Sam to help you with it. You glanced at Elisa, a blush ran through your face when you saw the sketch of a woman on her notes. Does she have a date? Did she get asked… or did she ask a girl out? There is no way she’d go with a boy… just the idea of Elisa with a boy makes your stomach churn, and you don’t know why it would feel better if she would be with a girl, a person like you.

“Um… so, do you have a date?” You stammered, trying to act casual about the question, as if it hasn’t been on your mind all month.

She looked away from her sketch to glance at you, “no.”

“Why not?”

Elisa was silent for a moment, “Fleur tore her ACL so she won’t come with me.”

Fleur? Why Fleur? Your kind smile slowly turned to a frown, fuck I know I said it would make me feel better if she would ask a girl out but Fleur? Does she like her? No way.

Elisa noticed the way your smile turned into disgust. At first, panic started to get into her head, would you tell everyone that she wanted her date to be a girl? It’s okay, right? A lot of girls go with their friends? Fleur is her friend. But her panic turned into anger, fuck you and your disgusting beliefs. Of course you wouldn’t like the fact she’s into women, and although she never said she's gay out loud, anyone who glances at her knows about it.

“ACL injuries are really serious, tell her I wish her a speedy recovery.” You mumbled, you didn’t know why you’re acting this way, and why does it happen every time with Elisa. Elisa ignored what you said and continued to draw. You were looking at her sketch from the corner of your eyes, what else would she add? Big boobs? Blonde hair? Is her type in girls the same as the boys’? But suddenly Elisa stopped drawing for a second and took a deep breath, then she scribbled all over the drawing, ripping the page away from her notebook and standing angrily to throw it away in the bin.

When she sat back, she moved her seat slightly away from you. You lowered your head feeling shame, what did you do to deserve this from her? Your heart did the fluttering thing again around her, but now it’s because of the heartbreak of rejection. Elisa kept on tapping the pencil on the paper, writing nothing on her notebook. You glanced at Paul, realizing that he was partnered with Amy. Because of the panic of Elisa sitting next to you, you didn’t even think about Paul. Great, Paul is with the hottest girl in class and Elisa here hates your ass, you already knew Sam would be tired from the phone call this evening.

You glanced at the teacher quickly to make sure she's not looking at you. You grabbed your phone and opened the chats between you and Sam and sent her a message.

“Sam I'm sorry for the monster I'd be when we call today.”

Elisa noticed you using your phone, slightly surprised since you've always been the ‘good’ girl of the class. She saw you texting Sam, quickly diverting her eyes away from your phone. Are you texting Sam about the drawing? Is she seriously that grossed out by a silly drawing? Elisa's frustration has faded, now filled with sorrow. How can someone be filled with that much hatred? How can you sit here and act all cute and innocent to everyone but react this way over a drawing?

Right when the bell rang, Elisa grabbed her bag and left first, not even waiting for Katoto. You breathed out slowly, glad that she's not sitting next to you anymore. The rest of the school day was miserable, feeling all alone. At lunch, you sat on the ‘loner benches’, which are placed behind the school buildings near the football pitch. It's called that because nobody usually notices it, so it's always empty. For once, you were too tired to be friendly and socialize with people you can't stand.

When you were watching the football game, you noticed Elisa playing. Sighing, you got up and walked to the building, deciding to help out the nurse in easy tasks like bandages. She likes you, and had previously written notes to the teachers for you ‘to skip’ their classes. And after what happened in class with Elisa, you really didn't want to face her again.

When you reached the nurse office, you saw Ms. Eugene frantically running around her office to grab things into her giant bag. When she turned to look at you she gasped, “oh thank God! I was about to call the office to bring you,” She grasped your arm, pulling you to sit in her office. “My daughter… she's sick, they called right now. Can you please take over my place? You know we don't have other nurses, and I trust you. You're very smart, y/n. If anyone came here with something more serious than a cut, don't hesitate to call the ambulance.” She rambled, her face filled with stress as she grasped her keys.

“I can stay here, just let the office know so I don't get counted as absent,” You were getting more worried about her daughter the more you looked at her. Ms. Eugene is a single mom of a 3 year old girl, having to carry the responsibilities of both parents as one. She nodded at what you said, and pulled the door open. “I hope everything works out with baby Lee.”

She turned to look at you with grateful eyes, and left you alone. You were stressed about the new ‘job’ you got, but excitement started filling you when you looked around. The posters, the small medications, the tapes and bandages. You can now pretend to be a nurse! You pulled out your phone to text Sam about your new adventure, until a knock made you flinch.

You glanced at the door, yelling out a ‘come in’. When the door opened, you heard Elisa's pained voice, “Nurse Eugene?”

When Elisa glanced at you, she rolled her eyes and limped outside, making sure to shut the door as loud as possible. Usually, you would be hurt at this. But by the way Elisa was limping, you jumped up from the big chair and ran out to see what happened.

“Elisa, are you serious?!” You pulled the door open, finding her limping down the stairs. She looks up to see you and asks, “What are you even doing here? Where is the actual nurse?”

“She had a family emergency,” You followed her down the stairs, “Elisa you're limping! I'm just going to tape you and you will not see my face again.” Your voice cracked as you said the last part. Usually you're good at masking your feelings, but Elisa's pained face in front of you and the way she ran away from you broke you.

Elisa groaned loudly and took a step forward, holding onto the stairs’ railing and following you back into the nurse's office. When she got in the room, she limply sat on the bed. Glancing at the wall in front of her instead of you.

She had heard the neediness from your voice, and it made her heart throb quicker. Even when you clearly feel disgust around her, at least you were worried about her right? Did you do this because you cared about her? Or because you didn't want to get in trouble?

You brought disinfectant wipes, a cotton ball, pre wrap, and a tape. You placed them near her on the bed then turned to look at her to see what actually happened. Elisa lifted her foot up to show that the injury was there, and when you looked down you saw a trail of blood and a cut on her lower shin.

You pointed at the bed as your face scrunched in worry. Awkwardly, Elisa twisted her body towards you and layed down, resting her upper body on her arms behind her. You sat on the bed too, making sure the tapes were near you.

You grabbed the wipes packet, glancing at Elisa to make sure she knows it will be painful. But she was already looking at your face, so you panicked and just placed the wipe directly at the cut.

“Fuck!” She pulled her leg away and threw the wipe away. But you grabbed her foot and pulled it to your lap, using a different wipe and attempting to clean up the cut again. Elisa’s hiss was loud, and it involuntarily made your breath hitch and bite your lip for a second. You had to stop being inappropriate and dirty minded. It's disrespectful, so you tried to ignore it and continued cleaning up the wound. But when her defined and thick calf tensed up, you froze. Of course she will have muscles… She plays football!

“Can you be quick? It's burning me.” Elisa's frustrated groan pulled you out of the daydreams, so you quickly placed your right hand on a piece of cotton there and awkwardly tried to place the pre-wrap over it with your left hand. Elisa saw you struggle so she placed her fingers on yours over the cotton pad.

You quickly removed your fingers from her warm hand, and started wrapping her shin tightly with the pre-wrap. It was easier now to be completely focused on the injury in front of you instead of Elisa’s gaze or warm hand, it was your dream to major in a medical field and you didn’t want to harm Elisa or tape it wrong.

All Elisa was doing while you were taping her shin is look at your face. She was intrigued on how you knew how to do this. For her, she plays football and it’s mandatory for all of the players to know how to tape and deal with certain injuries. But for you, she wasn’t sure on how you knew how to do this… or how you’re good at so many things, you were just perfect in everything in her eyes.

She shook her head at her thoughts and looked at your hands instead, watching you bring the sticky white tape and securing her shin just like the physio at her academy. When you were done, you softly tapped her foot, indicating that she can lift it now. She removes her foot from your thighs and twists her body to sit on the bed instead, forcedly turning her head to look at you with a thankful smile, “you taped it well, thank you.”

You shrugged and looked down at both your feet, dangling them around as you bit your lip in embarrassment, “Thank you, I’ve always wanted to do this in the future so…”

“Be a school nurse?” Elisa asked.

“No, just anything with the medical field.” You replied. Elisa didn’t realize how close you were both sitting next to each other until she accidentally nudged your foot when she started moving her feet like you. She stood up, making sure not to put her weight on her foot, and walked to the door.

“Good luck with that, you’re smart and I think you’ll be able to do it.” You looked up to see her at the door, heart slightly warming at what she said. You smiled gratefully at her and nodded, before mumbling a short, “good luck with football.”

Elisa giggled with a shrug at your comment, and closed the door behind her delicately this time. You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding and hid your face in your hands. Why was it comforting to you that she thinks your hard work will actually get you to your dream major? Did she lie to make you feel better?...Elisa hates lying, you have noticed that because everytime she doesn’t like anything she’d stay quiet…not lie.

But the door was opened shortly, Elisa appearing again with a flustered smile, “I forgot to ask you for a nurse pass.”

You raised your face from your hands and nodded in her direction, standing up from the bed to the desk and writing a note. When you reached ‘time:’ on the notes, you turned to look at Elisa, “Hey Elisa… Do you want to go to class now or walk around the school? I can lie about the time and basically give you free time.”

She looked away from a random poster and turned to look at you with a bright smile, the ones kids do when they get offered candy. “Will you actually do that for me?”

You giggled at her reaction with a nod, she skipped happily and sat on the bed again. She turned to look at you with a grateful smile and pulled out her phone from her pocket, “thank you, I can’t stand the PE teacher or any of the students.”

You hummed in agreement as you sat there awkwardly. Elisa continued scrolling through her screen, while you were just looking at her. “If the teacher asks you why it took you so long you should say that you were dizzy and almost passed out because it is mandatory for nurses to keep students in their office for a minimum of 20 minutes.”

She looks away from her phone to look at you for a second before returning her eyes back, “yeah thanks.”

You didn’t like how she wasn’t really talking to you, even when you knew she didn't like you at all. For a second, it felt like all the tension that was there in the morning had oozed away, but you soon realized that you had to accept that the discomfort Elisa felt toward you will always be the same. As you thought of a topic to talk with her, there was a knock on the door.

You glanced back at elisa to signal for her to hide her phone, before calling out a ‘come in’.

When the door opened, you saw Elisa visibly grimace and you realized that it's Paul the moment he said your name, “y/n! Or should I say Nurse y/n?”

You turned awkwardly to Elisa with a confused look. Nobody knew you were there other than the office, how did he know? Your minutes of peace were frustratingly disturbed now that other students know. Elisa shrugged to show you she didn't know how he knew, but she didn't want to admit that she did text Katoto about you helping her skip.

“Hey Paul, do you need a bandage?” You fake smiled at him. After the whole prom planning that happened, you really didn't want to be around him.

“What? No, I'm just here so you can write me a note to skip class.” He laughed as he sat at the seat near you, grabbing a note from the desk and giving it to you so you could write him one.

“I'm not allowed to do that Paul, you know that.” You looked at him disappointedly and returned the pack of excused notes back to where they were. Paul groaned in frustration. He glanced at Elisa on the bed and pointed at her, “what about her?”

“Elisa is dizzy and has to stay here for a while.”

“Y/n do you seriously believe that! C'mon, I'm your prom date! She fell and bled a little, that's all. I was there. Look! She can stand and walk normally with it taped.” He cried out, pointing at Elisa's taped shin.

“Calm down weirdo,” Elisa calmly said. She didn't like the way he was yelling at you, and she was slightly worried if you couldn't think of an excuse to tell him about how she was dizzy so she tried to waste time.

In fact, Elisa didn't know why you were doing this in the first place. Taping her shin is understandable, but helping her skip class? Memories of first period hit her, and now she doesn't understand you.

Paul turned to look at Elisa after what she said, “weirdo? Did you just call me that?”

“Paul, stop acting childish!” You groaned. “Elisa got dizzy…when girls are in their…you know what, they can feel dizzy. Especially when they lose even more blood.” You mumbled to him as you pointed at her shin. It may not be the smartest excuse, but Paul doesn't know a single thing about women's bodies and you know he's going to feel weird and awkward when anyone mentions ‘periods’.

Paul looked down in embarrassment after what you said, turning to look back at you. “Um…sorry I forgot you guys get that, I'll just leave.” He talked under his breath, before opening the door and leaving you both alone.

Both of you and Elisa exhaled in sync, before turning to each other with a soft smile.

Elisa looked away from you to the door, “he's a dick.”

You sighed as you relaxed into the seat, “Yeah I don't know what else to do with him,”

You looked at your painted nails, avoiding Elisa's glance. You wanted to speak about this with someone, but you didn't like to put your problems into someone even if it was your best friend. “He didn't even…bother to ask me out properly like the movies.”

Elisa noticed the deep frown on your face. She never expected a day where the both of you are sitting down and talking about boys, but it felt slightly better to know that you're opening up now especially after the two months of ignoring and distancing yourself from her. Maybe you weren't as mean as she made you seem in her head, and she liked this vulnerable side of you. “Well… he's a guy, what did you expect from him?”

You let out a scoff, “it just feels like no guy is good enough. We always put the effort in everything, he couldn't even care about what dress I'll wear or flowers or anything.”

Elisa wanted to make a gay joke, but she still didn't trust you enough to joke that way. And considering the way you behaved around her drawing just a few hours ago, she didn't think it would be a good idea. “You're too pretty and smart for him anyways.”

You looked up to glance at her, but she was looking at her taped up shin. Did she mean it? A deep blush ran through your face, and you let out a soft giggle at the thought of her thinking you deserve better than the most handsome guy of your class.

“Yeah? Like who?” You questioned. Maybe Elisa knows someone she can set you up with for the next prom, or maybe she can help you find the love you always yearned for but the boys are too immature and inappropriate…Or maybe she'd say she's the one for you.

Elisa glimpsed at you and stayed quiet with no response for a few seconds. She shrugged, “none of the guys here for sure. Maybe somewhere else.”

Elisa didn't like the attention you just gave her. You turned a compliment into a questionnaire she can't answer. But who is there to blame but herself, she's the one who said you deserve someone better. Elisa loved the small giggle that came out of you. No matter how much she hated your behavior towards her, she always liked making girls realize guys are trash.

You crossed your hands in front of you as you rested your head on them, looking up to Elisa from your seat. She was deep in thought, and you started wondering if she'd ever date a girl in your school. Would she give her flowers every week? Would she receive flowers?... She's still a girl no matter how different she dresses, and she still deserves them. Would she be a physical person like the students that do PDA? Or would she pretend she doesn't know her girlfriend to not gain attention?

Elisa noticed you staring at her weird, the same glance she'd see Katoto has when she looks at Adam. Her ears turned pink and she pulled out her phone to complain to Marie about the ‘Voldemort guy’ interrupting what could've been your first ever sane conversation.

You were probably thinking about Paul, right? Maybe your ‘dream’ man since the both of you were talking about it.

You realized your thoughts were drifting too much, so you closed your eyes tightly and hoped sleep would come and take you somewhere away from Elisa. You shouldn't be thinking about her that way. And you also shouldn't assume her sexuality, like what that Quora response said…even after what she said about guys.

Elisa had noticed you sleeping, so she concluded that your dreamy stare at her was probably sleepiness making you tired. She sat there and scrolled on her Facebook and Instagram.

When she realized that it had been over an hour of her time in the office, she knew she couldn't use that excuse anymore and needed to focus on the other classes. She stood up and approached you, whispering your name.

When she didn't see you react, she knew she had to touch you. But she didn't know how, childishly afraid of tapping your arm. Your fringe had been covering your face, so Elisa lightly moved them away and placed them behind your ears, hoping you wouldn't feel her touch. Elisa always had short hair and she never wanted to grow it out, but she still loved the feeling of hair in her fingers. Fleur gets frustrated whenever Elisa plays with her hair, and Katoto has braids so Elisa was ‘not allowed’ to touch her hair no matter what (she tried one day and Marie yelled at her).

Your eyes scrunched at the feeling of soft fingers on your forehead, and when you opened your eyes you saw Elisa's horrified eyes. You sat up looking confused, worrying about why she looked like she had seen a ghost. “umm… sorry for touching your hair I tried to wake you up but you didn't wake up from my voice.” Elisa rambled quickly, stepping away from you towards the door.

“Wait,” you groaned out, “You're leaving me?”

Elisa smiled at your confused face, slowly speaking so you could understand, “I spent too much time here already, I can't miss more classes.”

She almost laughed at the way your face contorted, something deep in her is warming up and now her whole body is burning. She knows she needs to leave this room before her thoughts start spiraling, so she gave you a small wave and left the office.

Maybe it was the sleepiness talking, but for once, you finally knew that Elisa is a sweet person… and your heart break from the morning today came back, when you realized that what happened today was only a one time thing.

___

~ yes, the next chapter will be prom

~ fun fact, there are some countries in Europe that do prom nowadays. Maybe not back in the 2010s but this is fanfiction so xx

~ did you guys notice something about Paul's looks? yeah y/n has a type ;)

#nel's writings #elisa de almeida #élisa de almeida #woso x reader #nel recommends fanfiction #elisa de almeida x reader #woso #psg feminines #woso community #woso fanfics #woso soccer #womens football #woso one shot #frawnt fanfics #wlw fanfic

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sixofpomegranates · 2 years

Note

Would you write a one-shot where the girl is Spencer's student and somehow he hears a girl talk that she's a virgin (and also that she writes FICS about him), and something happen between them? I'd like her to be inexperienced, but not dumb about sex, nor bratty ❤️❤️ thank you so much for your fics btw, they're amazing

Fanfiction

Pairing: Professor!Reid x Virgin!Student!Fem!Reader

Word count: 14.4K (it's a long one | That's what she said.)

A/N: Quick PSA: A real person might not be a fan of you writing fanfiction about them... But writing this was fun! It never crossed my mind to have one of Spencer's students write a FF about him.

CW: Smut, Fluff | Mentions of Age Gap/Sexual Experience/Fanfiction/academic pressure/financial struggles/Parents not supporting your dreams, Oral (F), Fingering, Masturbation, Virginity/Loss of virginity, Penetrative Sex (unprotected, creampie), Nicknames (Bunny, Daddy, Sweetheart, Good Girl)

"The cold rain made the clothes cling to our bodies as we ran into the faculty building. I should've never agreed to interview my professor for the college paper. His class schedule was all over the place, and I struggled for weeks to find a place in his calendar to do it.

Stupid stubbornness had made me insist on him taking time for me tonight after classes. I had sat there through all his stomach-turning lectures and then waited for him to pack his stuff.

"Professor Collins, you said I was supposed to wait for you to find a free day on your schedule." I looked around the empty class. "Now seems to be the time."

"Miss Rivera, it is past eight, and I'd like to go home now. Why don't you do the same, and I'll send you a mail with dates that would be convenient for me."

Handsome but unattainable. He was known to be the most attractive professor on campus, clothed in secrecy and a need to keep his private life hidden. No wonder, a man working part-time as a teacher and part-time as an FBI agent needed to keep his secrets, I assume.

But tough luck. He'd been voted to be the most popular professor in our college, and therefore, this man was going to, at least, give me something to write about him.

"With all due respect, Professor, I have been running after you for weeks. I need this interview."

A loud thunder interrupted his try to back out of it, making him brush a hand through his hair.

"It's starting to storm soon. I assume you're taking the subway, just like me. I'd like the come home at least semi-dry, don't you?"

He tried to push past me, his hand on the strap of his leather satchel. I stepped in his way, his firm chest bumping against mine. I hadn't realized he was so much taller than me.

Another thunder made me jump. "I- I have a car."

He nodded, taking a nervous step back. We had stood too close. "That- That is good for you. The streets and public transport aren't safe for a young woman alone at night."

"I can drive you," I offered without thinking.

"Pardon?"

"You give me my interview, and I'll drive you home. We don't even have to have the interview here. I can drive us to a cafe. You once mentioned you never turn down the chance for coffee."

He raised his eyebrow. "You're not going to stop bothering me with this interview, am I right?"

I shot him a smile. "My persistence is one of my greatest assets, Professor."

He sighed, nodding. "Okay."

Clapping my hands, I lead the way to my car. I searched for my keys.

Pockets, handbag, bookbag,jacket.

"Is everything okay?"

I nodded, shooting my professor another smile.

Now, where were my keys?

"Are you sure?" He asked me, making me hear a smile in his voice. "It seems like you can't find your keys."

"No, no, no, I know I put them in here somewhere," I rambled, going through my bookbag again.

That was when one of its straps snapped and sent my books flying.

"Fuck!" I exclaimed, quickly sinking to my knees and picking my books up.

Of course, it wouldn't be my type of luck if I didn't also dump my handbag's contents in the same move. Perfect. Just perfect.

"Here," Professor Collins handed me one of my books. He had kneeled down next to me, helping me pick up my things.

Okay, maybe I saw his appeal. He was good-looking, his hair long enough to run your fingers through it and play with his curls and cheekbones that could cut glass. Kneeling down on the dirty floor for me, dirtying his always perfect suit, even when he detested everything that could suggest bacteria.

"Thank you."

As I took my book, our hands touched, and an electric shock ran straight through me. The sky opened, and it began to pour. Right, Professor Collins had predicted that it would rain...

A stupid laugh escaped me at the sudden decision the universe had made to make all of this look like a stupid rom-com.

Stuffing all my things into the bags, not carrying what I put into which, I looked at his now wet hair.

"I assume my ride home is canceled?" He joked, and my face became hot.

"Right..." I mumbled. "I'm so sorry."

He waved me off, standing up and lending me a hand. By now, we were both soaked.

"Let's go to my office. Maybe you'll find keys once we're dry and in a well-lit environment."

I nodded. "Please.""

*****

☀︎ POV: Spencer ☀︎

"Penelope, explain it again, please," I asked of her for the third time now.

My bubbly, blonde friend sighed. "A fanfiction, Reid. Or should I say, Professor Collins?"

The clear question mark on my face made Luke laugh. "Some girl from college has the hots for you and writes about a fantasy world in which you both are an item."

"No," I shook my head. I did not need to hear that. "Not interested in hearing about that."

This would only make the relationship with my students more complicated than it already was. The young women in my classes, especially those auditing them, made me nervous. Their looks were inappropriate, to say the least. And now I was supposed to have a head for one of them writing erotica about her and me as well?

Where would this nonsense end?

"But you should. Its publishing level good. Like, I read this in one night, and now I am constantly checking my phone to see if she updated her story," Penelope continued, gushing. "And honestly, except for a few quirks and that he works for the FBI, Professor Collins does not sound like you at all. He's such a dreamboat. Seriously. A man written by a woman."

"Thanks," I spat, taking the hint at my undateablility. Of course, a real person couldn't compare with a completely made-up man. Written ones never truly struggled with their problems in a way that would ruin the romance.

"Oh, boy. I didn't mean it like that," Garcia said.

Luke stared up from Penelope's rhinestone-covered phone. "Honestly, that story is spicy. Hey, from man to man, do you like BDSM?"

What the hell? What was this lunatic writing about me?

Penelope looked at her phone and smiled. "Oh, that isn't even the best one. Right now, there is this just hooking-up thing going on. The real fun starts once he falls for her and finally tries to have a real date with her."

Luke shook his head. "No chance. The alley scene where he tells her he can't touch her because it would be unethical, and they still have this absolutely animalistic-"

"You are making me uncomfortable," I exclaimed before I could hear any more of this.

"Sorry, man, but that stuff is good. And the side plots? How Adriene becomes a journalist, and they keep running into each other?"

Tara came in, coffee in her hand. "We talking about 'Paper Hearts & Printer Ink'?"

Ridiculous name. Stupid story. How old did I need to get, and how many titles did I need, to finally be taken seriously?

"Please tell me you're not reading that garbage," I practically begged, but Tara started laughing.

"That you call it garbage shows that you haven't read it. The author writes made-up cases that sound so real; I was convinced they were until I asked her on Tumblr."

Maybe I could ban auditing my classes, but what if this obsessive fan of mine was a student of mine? This story needed to vanish as promptly as it appeared.

Standing up, I fixed my tie and grabbed my satchel. "I'd be very thankful if you guys stopped reading it. Penelope, please take the story down."

*****

Which one of them?

The classes this week had me spinning. Every single one of them could've been the one writing in these indecent ways about me.

I knew all their faces and remembered all their available information. I was able to figure out which one of them wrote this garbage.

"Professor Reid?"

My head snapped up from my notes. "Yes?" I looked at [y/n], one of my thankfully normal students of mine.

"I just wanted to bring you Mrs. Perkins's invitation to the charity library sale. We were sorting out the books when she realized she forgot to hand you yours."

The girl handed me my invitation and smiled as I studied it. The college's library hat previously got a lot of new editions donated and now sorted out its stock. The books no longer needed would be sold for a bargain, and the money would be used to repair some of the old shelves.

I lacked the space for any more books, but how could I resist this feast? I made a mental note to ask Morgan to help me build another bookshelf for my apartment.

"Mrs. Perkins also told me to tell you that she would hold back some first editions for you."

I nodded thankfully. Helena Perkins was a little old lady in her eighties. The librarian and somebody I regularly brought tea and borrowed books from in my free time.

"Great. I can't wait," I smiled at [y/n] [y/l/n], who was one of the volunteers for this event. "Have you already got your eyes on something?"

This girl was almost as obsessed with books as I was. I often met her in the library. We never really talked, but we would smile at each other and then go on with our book hunt.

"Totally. I already have a box I'll have to figure out how to take home."

I furrowed my brows. "The sale is two days away."

She nodded. "That's the perk of helping organize it. I get to call dibs on the books I want."

I chuckled. "So that's why you helped."

She shook her head, laughing. "No? I help because Mrs. Perkins asked me to. The books are literally just a sweet bonus, and how she bribed me into helping."

"Yeah, she really knows how to bribe. I sponsor the buffet at the sale because of those first editions she's holding back."

"You know, since I started helping, I actually had to get rid of my dining table so I could fit in more books ins my apartment. I mean, I never have any visitors anyway, but still."

I nodded. "I'm having to ask a friend to build me a new shelf. Given the amount of books I own, I should really consider opening my own library."

Playing with her hoodie strings, [y/n] smiled. "See it as a positive thing. 'Doctor Spencer Reid's Library for the Book Addicted' has a nice ring to it."

"I might be going to steal that name," I joked back, loving how she bit into the pillow of her bottom lip while laughing.

She waved me off, pulling the hood of her hoodie back over her head to cover herself from the rain outside. "No need to steal; I gift it to you," she said sweetly. "Okay, I'm gonna leave now before Mrs. Perkins breaks her hip again, climbing around on those ladders."

"Have fun. Don't buy too many books," I called after her, hearing her yell back through the hallway, "You're not my boss!"

Silly girl. I liked her.

*****

""You are my student, Adriene!" He almost yelled. Only seconds before, he'd taken me on his desk, and now he shut me out again. "You can't seriously believe that this can be more than some random hook-ups."

I shouldn't have let it slip that I love him, but as he had looked into my eyes, it had been all I could think about.

I shook my head while fixing my disheveled clothes. "I- I am not your student. I am studying journalism. I only audit your class to-"

"You're still in my class," he insisted. "We can't meet anymore. This had been going on for too long anyway. You're having your exams soon, and they're more important than whatever this is anyway."

"But- It's not just a random hook-up for me," I admitted, feeling my heart sink as his face turned to stone.

"I'm sorry you caught feelings. I should've been more open about my intentions."

He didn't mean that. He couldn't. How were his intentions solely to fuck me? What a lie.

He could've done that and left, but he came back every time. He took me out to fancy dinners, watched movies with me, took me to bookstores and museums, and showered me with gifts and the stories of his past.

I thought there was more. There had to be more."

*****

God, that was a lot of drama.

Couldn't the two of them just finally get together and be happy? It wasn't that hard. Even if it was unethical at the moment, they only needed to wait a month. Adriene was soon going to finish college and get a job as a journalist.

I hated that I was able to understand where Zane came from, though.

She was so much younger. She had the chance to become a great journalist and see the world. Adriene deserved better than having a boyfriend who would probably get shot on a case.

She would understand and be thankful that he tried pushing her away over and over again once she was older. But right now, she clearly loved and accepted Zane.

I would've loved to have someone like Adriene.

She was caring and funny. She was addicted to books. Dreaming big but always counting Zane in.

Fuck. I wasn't falling in love with a fictional character, now was I?

*****

""Do you have any idea how angry I am with you?" He growled, while I only nodded.

"I'm sorry," I whispered while he made me stop by the car and helped me out of my kevlar vest. He ran his hand over the bullet hole in it and withdrew his hand as though he had burned his hand on fire.

"You could've died. Did you think even one second about that?" With anger, he tossed the vest into the backseat. "And this fucking vest is way too big for you."

"I'm sorry," I whimpered, flinching at every single one of his words.

"How could you be so reckless? A stunt like this could've cost my team or me our lives, and worse, it could've cost yours. Are you aware of that?"

I nodded, but that didn't seem to be enough.

"Adriene, I swear to god, you better answer me," he hissed, and I looked up at him, tears finally running down my face.

"I'm so sorry," I repeated, making him sigh and look me up and down.

"Are you hurt?" I shook my head, my whole body still trembling.

That was when Zane pulled me into a hug. "Thank god," he whispered. "Don't ever do that to me again. This story isn't worth your life.""

*****

She had daddy issues. Definitely.

The author was a girl with daddy issues that needed an outlet for her fantasies about an older man that could care for her.

She was most likely not in a relationship—if she had ever even been in a real one before.

I was nothing like Zane.

Just a little like him.

Okay, Zane was a carbon copy of most of my characteristics, even my bad ones.

The author had a talent for analyzing me.

At least our names and my hair and eye color were different. However, that seemed to help very little to hide my identity. Penelope had caught up on it in a heartbeat.

*****

"No. I am sick of this cat-and-mouse game, Zane," I yelled between tears and sobs. "You keep pushing me away, saying I'm too young for you. Yet, you are the one always coming back and never making up your mind. I may be young, but you're the one of us acting like a child!"

"Addy, please just listen to me."

I wiped my tears away, trying not to scream and wake my neighbors. "No, I am done listening. That's all I did until now, and it brought me nothing but heartache. It was always, 'Come here, Sweetheart.', 'Stay away.', 'Please come back.', 'I love you.' I'm done."

Zane took a step towards me, hand running over his stubbles. "You have the chance to become a great journalist and see the world, Adriene. You deserved better than having a husband who will probably get shot on a case."

"Then why are you always coming back?"

"Because I am selfish. I can't live without you."

I looked at him. His ocean-blue eyes were filled with tears he refused to let out. Where did this confession leave us?

"Can I please come inside, Sweetheart?"

*****

Wait, that was it?

Where was the rest?

The fuck did the author mean by 'To be continued'?

No. No, it was good that there wasn't any more of this. I didn't like how the author portrayed me anyway.

Pulling out my phone, I called Penelope. It rang a fair share of times before she picked up.

"Hello?" She sounded like she had a mile sprint behind her just to get to her phone.

"Garcia, it's Reid. I need you to tell me which of my students wrote the story."

"Why? What are you planning?" She asked suspiciously.

"I'll ask her to stop writing this and spare me from any more humiliation."

After a while of silence, Garcia answered simply, "No."

"Why not?"

"I'm not going to let you be mean to this talented girl!"

Was she for real?

"Penelope, if somebody's mean, then it's her. This is humiliating. She literally wrote about my dick and the many uses I seem to have for it in her fantasy," I told her with a hoarse, aggravated voice.

The call of reality seemed to have finally reached Garcia. I knew I was right, and now, so did she. This girl was openly projection this picture she had of me on the internet. Openly displaying me being called 'Daddy,' manhandling her like she was nothing more than my little toy.

I wasn't a man like that, and I surely didn't need somebody to think I was.

"Okay, fine. Take away one of my hobbies and crush a girl's spirit," Penelope huffed, annoyed. "Her name is [y/n] [y/l/n]."

"No, it's not," I replied almost instantly. "She- No. You're wrong."

"Genius boy, I am a lot of things. I am beautiful, sassy, a wonder woman, a natural talent in anything technology, but I am not – and I can't stress this enough – never, ever wrong about something so simple as uncovering the person behind a username."

I thanked my friend and hung up.

[y/n]. I had already crossed her from my list of suspects. She was sweet, quiet, and a good student. She never stared at me like the other woman in class, and she never seemed distracted or daydreamy.

She shared jokes with me, and I liked her... This annoyed me.

[y/n] was a wolf in sheep's clothing, and I had fallen for it.

Why did it have to be one of my good students? One that even was respectful and well-behaved when coming to my office or wrote me a mail when she wouldn't be able to make it to my class.

Somehow it would've been less insulting if it would've been a girl auditing my lectures.

Shaking my head, I looked at [y/n]'s user profile.

Her username was 'SixofPomegranates', an innuendo to Hades and Persephone. The king of the underworld had made his wife eat six pomegranate seeds to ensure she'd have to return to his side for six months of the year.

Her profile picture was a digital drawing of a little jackalope bunny surrounded by flowers. The little bunny reminded me of her, sweet and innocent looking.

She had the same look on her face coming to my office one day, as it had rained, and she was soaked, freezing. After handing her the materials she had missed, I'd made her stay until the rain had stopped, giving her my jacket as she started her way home.

The next day the coat had been returned to my office, a coffee from Starbucks next to it and a little flower-shaped sticky note on it thanking me.

I had kept that stupid sticky note in my wallet. It still was in there. It had this stupid joke on it that always made me laugh.

"*knock knock* Who's there? Thank you! Thank you, who?

Thank you for lending me your coat! Enjoy your coffee! — [y/n] ♡"

If that had been the day she started fantasizing about me?

Even if it was, it didn't give her the right to post erotic stories about me online. However, I hated the feeling those scenes now gave me, knowing that it was her.

Her profile's bio solely held a quote:

"My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary."

Wuthering Heights. Did she see the book as dramatic or romantic? Did she see Catherine and Heathcliff as star-crossed lovers and soulmates or co-dependent fools who couldn't get over each other even after death?

Why did she have to write this fanfiction about me?

I kicked my desk like a disgruntled child. Now I could never ask her for an answer. Could never look at her again without thinking about her fantasies.

These lusting, needy fantasies I shouldn't relate to.

I never had any normal fans.

Seriously, was it me? Was I the problem?

*****

"Miss [y/l/n], can you stay behind, please? I'd like to have a word with you."

I had just excused the rest of my students fifteen minutes earlier than usual. I couldn't seem to focus, my eyes always falling back to [y/n].

She had an astounding poker face. What was she thinking about while writing her little notes?

Was she thinking about me, asking her to stay behind after class?

About me, throwing her onto my table and fucking her on the assignments handed in by her classmates?

As she walked up to me, her side bag thrown over her shoulder, books clutched in her hands, she looked at me with a smirk.

"What is it, Professor Reid? I'm sorry to tell you, but you're not getting the Wuthering Heights copy we both hunted for from me. I got that one fair and square." She bit her bottom lip.

The night I learned about her alter-ego 'SixofPomegranates', I had been at the charity sale before. We had both reached for the same book, her beating me in Rock-Paper-Scissors and having me back off from the copy.

The rest of the night, I had thought of her fantasies, her being the subject of my desires, pulsing cock in my hand as I masturbated to the idea of playing those fantasies out with her.

The fact that I was mad at her had only fueled my longing for her before the feeling of post-orgasm clarity had brought me back to my senses.

I licked over my lips, checking if we truly were alone. "That's not what this is about. I-" I cleared my throat. "It had come to my attention that you wrote a little piece of... fanfiction about me. Us."

I hadn't thought it to be possible, but her eyes became even bigger. She looked at me like a frightened little bunny. Her big eyes filled with worry, and mortification was written all over her face while I was able to hide mine quite well.

Looking down at her feet and back up at me, she played coy, "I- I'm sorry?"

"A little story called 'Paper Hearts & Printer Ink'. Sound familiar?"

She swallowed harshly, "I- I- I don't- I didn't..."

As I, just like her, didn't know what to say, I decided to go with the truth. "See, I thought a lot about how I would handle this situation yesterday, and I've frankly got to admit that I am in unknown water here. I never thought about the possibility of a student of mine falling for me and certainly didn't think about one writing erotica about me and sharing it online."

Our eyes met, and I ignored the little infinite universes that formed between them.

"Listen, I would like to tell you that I feel flattered, but I don't. It is humiliating and makes me extremely uncomfortable. My colleagues at the FBI caught wind of it."

A frown popped up on the little bunny's face. "I- I'm sorry. I didn't- I didn't think-"

I nodded, going for the kill of this crush. She shouldn't think of me in any other way than me being her teacher. "Yes, you didn't. And it's very apparent."

She raised her eyebrows, looking like she was building momentum to talk back at me. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," I snarled. "Nobody with at least the rarest bit of common sense would do something as stupid as this. Your little amateur work has the power to ruin my reputation on campus. Have you thought about what this weird little fantasy of yours could insinuate?"

"This is a little harsh, don't you think?" She asked, bottom lip shivering. "I changed enough that nobody would ever draw any connection-"

I interrupted her. "And yet it wasn't enough. Else neither my colleagues nor I would've realized your little obsession with me."

"Obsession?" She mumbled.

"I am asking you politely to remove your work from the internet and keep those fantasies in your diary – where they belong. Should I catch wind of something like this happening again, I'll need to report you to the dean. I cannot have my character ruined solely because of a horny young girl."

She nodded, "Okay. I'm sorry for the inconvenience I caused you, Professor. I didn't mean it."

I turned away so I wouldn't see her little bunny eyes. "Just don't let it happen again."

[y/n] nodded a couple of more times and hurried out of my class. Hopefully, I had been condescending enough to have her leave those feelings behind and be a normal student again.

Maybe then, I could pretend this whole ordeal never happened. Maybe then, I wouldn't feel like running after her and apologizing.

*****

☁︎ POV: [y/n] ☁︎

On an idiot-scale from 1 to 10, I definitely was a 14.

"Yeah, I am just going to write about my hot criminology professor and all my kinks and post it online."

"I just change names and hair colors. Nobody's gonna know."

"How will they know? Impossible."

Dumb, dumb idiot. Stupid. No brain.

I'd known that I would never have a chance with my professor and therefore had created a world in which we shared more than just a smile at the library.

What was wrong with me? Professor Reid wasn't even that handsome... I mean, yes, he was, but he had been very clear about being uncomfortable because of me and somewhat called me a dummy.

Humiliated and on the verge of either throwing up or crying, I crawled into bed, ready to let the day end before I could embarrass myself any more.

But I still had to do something. I opened my notebook, opened my social media – the one I decided to use to embarrass myself and Professor Reid with – and opened 'Paper Hearts & Printer Ink'.

I really liked the story. Yes, I had thought about my professor when writing Zane Collins, but after a while, the lines between fiction and reality had blurred so much that the story had developed a life of its own.

It had no longer been Professor Reid and I in my head; it had been Zane and Adriene. Two fictional characters I had made up and related to so much during their adventures that it was therapeutic to write about them. It had become my comfort activity.

Well, either deleting this or kissing my academic career goodbye.

Such stupid bullshit.

My mouse cursor hovered over the delete button.

Yeah, no chance. I couldn't do it. Deleting it was so final—such a waste.

Instead, I decided to just archive my story. I would be able to keep the comments I had gotten on it, but it wouldn't be viewable anymore—a good middle ground.

I just couldn't upload any more stories. Not even the ones without my crush in it. He would see it and think of me as a crazy stalker, a yandere that was obsessed with him... He probably already thought of me like that.

But okay, I wouldn't let that ruin my semester. Two more weeks until my finals, I would just not take criminology with Professor Reid as professor next semester.

Yes. That sounded sensible. I'd write my finals and then ditch.

I'd hope Professor Reid would forget about it, but that guy had an eidetic memory. If asked, he'd probably be able to tell me what he had for breakfast ten years ago and what weather it was.

Well, no sympathy for dumbasses – That was me. I was the dumbass.

*****

☀︎ POV: Spencer ☀︎

She'd taken it down. No more 'Paper Hearts & Printer Ink'. Yet, it didn't really feel like a win for me.

Now I would never find out if Adriene and Zane got back together. Penelope and Tara definitely had given me their peace of mind about it as well.

And [y/n] didn't smile at me anymore. She stayed away. It was sensible given what happened between us, but still. I missed the smiles and short conversations.

I wondered if the little bunny would return to my classes next semester. She had amazing grades. It would've been a shame, although I probably scared her far enough away to never see her again.

Maybe I should've just stayed quiet about the story.

The last couple of free days I spent in Vegas, visiting my aunt, and now sat there in the hotel's restaurant eating dinner. I had read a book, so I hadn't noticed it right from the beginning, but as I put it down when the waitress appeared to bring me my soda, I saw her.

[y/n] was sitting there, playing with her phone.

What was she doing here?

She was dressed in this tight-fitting black dress, her hair and makeup all dolled up. She was clearly dressed to impress somebody, yet she sat alone. Just like me.

What a suspicious coincidence that she was at the same time in Las Vegas as I was, in the same hotel, eating dinner at the same time, and only a few tables away from me.

I didn't like the feeling in my gut. Not at all. Too often had I been the victim of insane women. I didn't want to – I couldn't – go through something like that again.

Sitting there and watching her for over ten minutes, she still sat there on her own. Why get dressed up like that if you're all on your own? And even if clothes didn't matter, why didn't she already order?

No. That was it. I would confront her. I grabbed my phone and sent her a mail.

***

"Miss [y/l/n],

I don't know what is going on inside your head, but following me to Vegas is undoubtedly not going to help you to get anything other from me than a restraining order.

– S.R."

***

I watched her looking at her phone, frowning. Then she looked around, and her big eyes met mine, looking like a frightened bunny. She shook her head and typed something on her phone. Then mine rang.

***

"Professor Reid,

I can assure you that this is merely a coincidence. I wasn't aware that you'd be here.

– [y/n]

***

Shaking my head, I replied.

***

"[y/n],

Are you sure? Because this seems like a rather substantial coincidence, don't you think?

Almost seems a little too much like a romance novel.

– S.R"

***

An angry sigh left her lips.

***

"Professor Reid,

I'm lacking the time, interest, money, and skills to stalk you.

Trust me, I won't pull an Annie Wilkes on you.

– [y/n]"

***

A reference to Stephen King's Misery. Macabre little thing. I missed her jokes.

***

"Adriene,

So you're trying to tell me you're not my number one fan?

– Zane"

***

I watched her roll her eyes and lick her lips.

***

"Very funny. I'll laugh next week.

Now please leave me alone. I am waiting for my date.

– [y/n]"

***

My fingers were faster than my common sense.

***

"Your next victim?"

***

An angry gaze now burned itself through my clothes. I seemed to have been crossing a line with my teasing. Only fair since I had pushed her away as far as I had and now seriously started to pull jokes.

***

"Dear ostentatious prick,

'He felt as he always did when he finished a book — queerly empty, let down, aware that for each little success, he had paid a toll of absurdity.'

I liked you. I was crushing for you harder than I thought possible and childishly wrote a story I didn't figure would hurt anybody because I knew I'd never stand a chance with you.

I apologized for it and took it down. I am not going to visit another one of your classes ever again. I even planned that we'd never have to see each other again.

Tonight, that we met, is a coincidence since – surprise! – those happen to exist.

I now regret all the months I spent fantasizing about you and falling for you since I clearly was wrong about everything I thought about you. I feel silly, dumb, humiliated, and I'm clearly braindead.

Apparently, the only thing nice about you is your looks.

So now please leave me alone, as I told you before, I am waiting on my date. And no, it is not a man I needed to stalk, kidnap, drug, or anything else. It's somebody who I met online, who's interested in me, and asked me to come here to meet.

– [y/n] [y/l/n]"

***

Message gotten. Loud and clear. Great, now I felt like an asshole.

***

"Apologies, [y/n],

I did not intend to hurt your feelings. I'm well aware that you don't need to commit crimes to get men to be interested in you.

Have a nice evening.

– S.R."

*****

☁︎ POV: [y/n] ☁︎

Ten more minutes later, I still sat there alone. Kyle had clearly stood me up. I came all the way to freaking Las Vegas, and he didn't even have the balls to write me a text.

If he would've, I could've just... I don't know. I wasn't a big fan of Vegas. I had only come here because Kyle told me to.

I probably looked like a hooker waiting for a customer to approach and ask for my prize, dressed up like I was. I had been so sure he'd been interested in me.

This had been a waste of money, make-up, time, and shaving.

As my phone rang, I quickly looked at it, sighing as I noticed that it was only my professor. He probably thought I made up my date, so I had an excuse to stalk him.

***

"He stood you up, didn't he?"

***

I put my phone aside. I couldn't reply because I'd probably start crying. That's what I got for having expectations. Concentrating on my hands resting on the white tablecloths, I noticed a tear dropping onto one of them.

"Now, don't cry because of that guy, little bunny." I looked up at my professor standing there with his drink. Little bunny? "It's his loss that he didn't show up."

He sat down across from me, telling a waitress to bring a lighter for the candle in the middle of the table.

"What are you doing?" I asked him. "I'm not in the mood to force you to write a novel right now."

He looked at me, sighing jokingly, "Don't be silly; you're the author of us both, [y/n]."

As the waitress returned, she lit the candle between us, and Professor Reid ordered a bottle of wine.

"Seriously, now, what are you doing?" I asked him again. "You were pretty clear about your opinion of me, and I don't need a pity dinner with you."

"It's not a pity dinner. I just thought we'd both look less pathetic when not having to sit and eat alone."

"Aren't people in Vegas usually meeting up with escorts when they want company?" I asked sarcastically, staring at my phone and still hoping for a text.

Accepting the bottle of wine he ordered, the professor started to fill our glasses, chuckling, "Well, I am from Vegas, and although lonely, I've never chosen that type of company."

I looked at the menu the waitress had brought and at the wine bottle. One glass of wine already cost enough; I couldn't even imagine how expensive an entire bottle was.

Shit, I definitely seemed like a hooker.

"The bottle looks expensive," I mumbled, staring at the shiny letters on the label.

Professor Reid nodded, chuckling, "I hope it does. It's a two-hundred-dollar bottle."

My eyes went wide. "Two- Two. Hundred. Dollars?"

He waved me off, "Don't worry, I'll pay for it."

Running a hand over my head, I sighed. "People will think I'm a hooker or your sugar baby."

A pretty smile spread on his lips, paired with his cheeks starting to become pink, "I- I didn't intend it to appear like that. I- I've been stood up more times than I can count and just thought-"

I laughed at the way he started to fidget with his fingers, trying to explain himself. "So we're lying now?"

"I- How am I lying?"

"You have three PhDs, Professor," I reminded him. "I'm pretty sure you can count the times you've been stood up."

He nodded, smirking, "Yeah, true. I also don't date a lot, so the number is so small, they would revoke my Ph.D. in mathematics should I not be able to remember it."

Lifting his glass, my professor held it up.

"To your idiot of a date. If he would've shown up, I'd have to eat on my own."

He made it sound like a light-hearted joke, and I honestly believed there wasn't even any ill intent behind it. Still, it upset me.

"I thought he liked me," I mumbled, lifting my glass as well and clinking our glasses together. While taking a big sip, I hid my disappointment and hurt face behind the glass.

"If he loved with all the powers of his puny being, he couldn't love as much in eighty years as I could in a day," he replied, taking a sip as well.

"Quoting 'Wuthering Heights' to me does not make me feel better," I said, yet smiled because as we both had reached for the book weeks ago, things had still felt normal between us.

"Then what would?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. Uhm... You're here to visit family?"

"My Aunt and her husband," my professor answered. "What about you?"

"You already know about my date."

His hazel eyes widened. "You really just came to Las Vegas for a man you've met online?"

"Wow. I wonder how you feel about that?" I snorted sarcastically, taking another sip of wine. Judgemental bitch.

He chuckled at my pout, "Come one, Bunny. Don't look at me like that."

There it was again, this pet name. "What?"

"Huh?"

"You just called me 'Bunny.' And I'm very sure you called me 'little bunny' earlier," I confronted him.

Professor Reid began to blush, looking around to avoid my gaze.

"I- I- Uhm... Yeah. I did," he admitted stuttering, and I nodded.

"Okay?" I replied. Now, who seemed a little like Joe Goldberg?

"You remind me of one," he explained after taking a sip of wine. "A little bunny, I mean. Your profile picture was a jackalope bunny; since then, I can't help but make that connection all the time."

He had seen my entire profile. No wonder he thought I was nuts. Still, I liked the nickname. I'd never been given one before, and he said it with so much adoration I could almost think he liked me a little.

"I guess there are worse nicknames," I whispered, making him chuckle in reply.

"Like ostentatious prick?"

I nodded and deadpanned, "Among others."

Staring at the candle between us, I reached out for its flame, playing with it without burning myself as long as I stayed focused.

"Can I ask you a question about... what you read?" I asked, avoiding his eyes while my face burned as hot as the candle was bright.

"Of your works?" I nodded. "Well, I read all chapters of our little story. I didn't read your others, though. Are you planning on becoming an author?"

"God, no," I snorted, self-deprecating. Looking at my phone, I repeated my parents' words, "Can't feed a family with childish dreams."

"Those are definitely not your words," my professor noted, and I frowned.

"How'd you know?"

"Profiler. And your gaze went down to your phone while saying it. I assume your family is your screensaver?" I nodded. "What do they want you to be?"

Thinking of all the pressure on my shoulders, making me shorter than I was and my dreams even duller, I started counting, "Doctor, nurse, lawyer, CEO... Do I need to go on?"

He shook his head. "So you're studying to please your parents?"

"And to make sure I'm in deep debt before ever even fully starting to live."

"Would you want to be an author if there wasn't all that pressure on you?"

That was the first time somebody asked me that. Asked me what I wanted in general.

I gifted him a stupid grin. "Can you imagine holding a book in your hand and knowing that you're the one who wrote it and can live off of it? I mean, I wouldn't do it for the money or the fame, of course, but it would be nice not to feel the urge to cry every time a bill arrives in my mail."

Professor Reid stopped my fingers from playing with the flame. Holding my hand instead. "If you're really serious about it, you should pursue this hobby and make it your job."

"And if I fail?" I asked him, my eyes probably giving away the fear of taking that risk.

"Stephen King is one of the best-selling authors of all time, with a net worth of 500 million dollars. Yet it took years of countless rejections before 'Carrie' was published, and as it was made into a movie the following year, they didn't even write his name right in the credits."

But Stephen King didn't write fanfictions about his professor fucking him. I assumed. "So, I should risk becoming a writer because I could be the Stephen King of embarrassing, obsessive little stories I write, although they should stay in my diary?"

I pulled my hand away and wrapped it around my glass instead.

"I- [y/n], I needed to be harsh so you'd understand the troubles your fanfiction could cause us. It had nothing to do with your talent."

Why the hell was I doing here? I couldn't sit here any longer with the man I was head over heels for and listen to him giving me a pep talk about how my fanfiction wasn't as bad as he initially had said.

"I need-" I grabbed my phone and threw it in my purse. "I really should-"

I stopped trying to explain myself and stood up.

Professor Reid stood up as well, hand running through his curls. "Please don't leave. We haven't even ordered yet."

I shook my head. "I- I need to get a hotel room. It's getting late and- Yeah. I- Thanks for the wine."

As I bolted to the elevator, I could hear quick steps behind me. "Hey, [y/n]. Wait," he called after me. "God, your fast in those shoes."

As he reached me while I frantically pushed the elevator buttons, his hand touched my arms. "Hey, what did I do wrong?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. I- I'm awkward, and you're nice to me, and telling me my writing didn't suck, and I really can't crush on you anymore. So I'm running."

The elevator doors opened, and I quickly got in, pressing the button for the lobby and then the one closing the doors.

Just as I thought I had officially ended this strange meeting, Professor Reid reached between the doors, holding up the elevator and getting in with me.

He pressed the buttons again. What was he doing?

"What- I- Go back to the restaurant. Did you even pay? Oh my god, did we just dine and dash?"

He began laughing, shaking his head. "It's added to my bill, don't worry. I just..."

"You just, what?" I asked before he could actually finish his sentence.

"Wanted to make sure you're not running off and... Do you really not have a room?"

I shook my head, watching the floor numbers go down. "I was planning to stay with Kyle," I admitted.

"You- Bunny, you didn't know that man. You can't just stay with a stranger from the internet. Even if you'd hit it off from second 1, this is rushing things and risking your health," the professor lectured me.

"Please don't call me Bunny," I mumbled, feeling like crap. As always, when I got lectured.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

As we reached the lobby, I got out, Professor Reid grabbing my arm again and sighing. "[y/n], I- This is going to sound so condescending, but I don't think you'll be able to afford a room here."

Yeah. Condescending was a fitting word. Like, I'm sorry, I'm a broke student, but it's not like I can't afford the broom closet for the night.

I raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think that?" "You said you want to cry when having to pay your bills, and you almost threw up because of a two-hundred-dollar price tag on a bottle of wine. The cheapest rooms here cost 300$, and they're most likely all booked."

Oh. Okay. Yes, maybe he'd been right. 300$ was a lot of money in my world. I didn't even think my credit card would work at such a high price tag.

"Oh, okay. I- I'll just- I'll find a motel," I almost whispered to myself, grabbing my phone and opening a booking site.

I wasn't helpless. I was capable of taking care of myself. Worst case, I would change my flight home and sleep at the airport.

Taking my phone from me, my professor sighed. "This is ridiculous, [y/n]. Please just come upstairs with me. I have a suit. I'll sleep on the couch."

"You have a suit?" I asked, astounded.

This man had at least five COMME des GARÇONS cardigans. Of course, he could afford a two-hundred-dollar bottle of wine and a suit here.

"I rarely travel, so I like to spoil myself every once in a while," he explained himself, and I nodded in broke-bitch.

"Thank you, but I can't take you up on that offer. It's- I- This-"

Professor Reid interrupted me. "I promise I would never try anything indecent. I simply want to know you are safe."

The indecent had been exactly what my mind wanted. I thirsted over this man since I had first seen him ramble about stressors and aggressors. He was so passionate about everything he talked about. I liked that passion dangerously much.

Even thought about how passionate he would be about sex, would he be with somebody that caught his interest and was worth his time.

But now he stood there, trying to ensure me that I was safe, almost like I was made from glass.

"The whole bunny thing, huh?" I asked, and he nodded.

"Innocent, fragile, little thing. If you feel too uncomfortable to share the suit with me, I fully understand, but then at least let me pay for a separate room for you."

I shook my head, having to giggle. He was so oblivious. How was he so oblivious? It was kind of cute, to be honest.

"I think, in general, we both have a very different impression about why I'd be uncomfortable sleeping in the same suit as you."

His lips formed a little o, "It's because of the crush?"

"Obviously," I giggled.

"I- I'm sorry. Sometimes things like that fly right over my head."

I nodded. "Yeah, noticed."

"I'd enjoy your company, though, and maybe we could order room service, and you'd tell me if Adriene decides to give Zane another chance?"

Rolling my eyes, I looked at him. "Now you're teasing me again."

He shook his head. "No, I really want to know. See my invitation as a bribe."

I'd been willing to sleep at a stranger's place who I saw as a rebound for my crush on Professor Reid. I could might as well stay with the man I knew I wouldn't have gotten over in the first place.

"Kay. I'll get my bag."

*****

☀︎ POV: Spencer ☀︎

Opening the suit's door with my key card, I stepped aside and let [y/n] walk in first. She looked around, mouth open and astounded.

I had judged her and called her obsessed, yet here I was, thinking about how I could spoil her with everything I had to give just to see her in this state of awe some more times.

Stepping out of her heels, she shrunk a fair bit. She let her bag fall to the floor and began looking around. The view over Vegas had caught her interest.

She instantly walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows and looked outside.

"Wow," she mumbled. Turning around to look at me, she asked, "Have you seen your view?"

I nodded. "Since I came here a couple of days ago. If you like that, you're gonna love the bathroom."

Raising her brows, she darted away, only to storm to my side again. "Holy shit. You have a jacuzzi bathtub. I- That thing is bigger than my bathroom."

"Feel free to take a bath later on," I offered.

She nodded. "Oh, don't mind if I do."

I took off my suit jacket and threw it over a chair. Grabbing the room service menu, I sat down on the couch.

"What would you like to eat?" I asked [y/n], jumping a little as she hopped over the couch's back to sit next to me.

*****

Dinner and dessert later, I found myself still captivated by this little bunny. She had been, as always, herself. The girl that made me laugh with her sarcastic tone and bad jokes.

"You should publish that book after reviewing some of the changes again. It has potential," I now told her, making her shake her head and giggle.

"You're just saying that because you enjoy the high praises you get throughout the story."

"That's only a little true." I grabbed the bottle of champagne, pointing at her flute. "More champagne?"

Emptying her glass, she shrugged. "I already feel and look like a hooker, so sure. Hit me."

How often was she going to make that joke?

"Stop saying that. You're extremely beautiful," I told her.

A sassy grin appeared on her face. "I didn't say I wasn't beautiful. I'm just saying that I am dressed extremely provocatively – more than I'd like to – and am drinking champagne in a hotel suit more expensive than my entire apartment's furniture, while sitting there with a man almost twice my age. These jokes write themselves."

"You can go change into your pajamas if you'd feel more comfortable," I offered her, rolling up my sleeves and opening the first few buttons of my dress shirt.

"Yeah..." she mumbled, looking away and biting her lip.

Did she forget to pack them?

"You didn't bring clothes to sleep in? Seriously, what did you plan on—Oh." Realization set in my bones. She hadn't brought them because she'd planned on sleeping naked or in the clothes of this other man.

Clearing my throat and ignoring the picture of her naked in my bed, I offered, "If you want, I'll get you some of my clothes to sleep in?"

She shook her head. "You don't have to. I'll just sleep-"

"Naked?" I interrupted her with a grin.

She rolled her eyes, correcting me. "In my dress."

I shamelessly stared down her figure and then snickered, "You have to admit that I wasn't that far off then."

"Prick." She hit my arm playfully before laying down on the fuzzy carpet before us, staring at the ceiling full of gold accents.

She was so beautiful, eyes shining brighter than the Las Vegas strip.

"Can I ask something that will definitely cross the line?" I asked, making her look at me.

"You read erotica I wrote fantasizing about you. I think we're long past crossing a line."

She said things with so much character I always had to chuckle. "You came to Las Vegas to sleep with this guy, didn't you?"

Her intentions had been very obvious by now. An internet date that had made her come all the way to Vegas dressed like a daydream, no pajamas... I didn't judge her, she was a young woman that had a right to explore her sexuality, but I also detested the thought of this man running his hand all over her.

He would've probably didn't even know what she liked.

Propping herself up, she looked a little surprised, proofing that I was right with my assumption.

"Huh, I was wrong. There's the line." She still spoke with humor in her voice, laying back down, hand in the air, following the folding drawings on the ceiling.

"I'm sorry. I just- I just really don't understand that. He's an asshole that didn't even care to cancel your plans, and you flew out here, probably spending more money than you can afford, just to give him a night he would most likely not even know to appreciate," I explained myself, voice laced with envy.

"We talked for a while and got along. I think I was just getting sick of only ever fantasizing about things and thought he would do."

"You came to Vegas to give that guy your virginity?" I blurted out in disbelief, and she looked at me again.

"Virginity is a social construct made up by man," she told me, then shrugged. "But yeah, kinda."

"You-" My brain struggled to function a little. It surely didn't change my opinion of her, but the way she had written, leaving these fantasies in my brain for weeks... "You write pretty well about sex for somebody you never had it before."

She nodded, a smile on her lips. "Well, I'm not stupid. Also, it's not like I have zero experience, and I read a lot too."

That loser had almost taken her virginity, absolutely undeserving of it.

Looking into my face, she giggled, "You look so shocked right now."

"N-Not shocked, just... really, really glad he didn't show up," I stuttered, making her raise her eyebrows.

"Why?"

"I- I don't know," I lied, and she saw right through it.

Of course.

"Back with the lies again, Professor?" She smiled, and I was certain she knew I'd been envious.

The most interesting thing was that she didn't care about it. I wondered just how deep her feelings for me were.

Feeling the urge to join her on the floor, I backtracked. I didn't want to lay on the floor. This carpet was probably dirty.

I hid my longing to be close to her behind a topic-changing question. "How did you come up with Zane's backstory?"

She shrugged. "Made it up."

"Yes, but how did you get inspired?"

"I watched you and thought of why you do the things you do."

I chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "So you profiled me?"

"The amateur version of it."

"Do it again. Tell me what you profiled," I urged, leaning onto my knees and watching her.

"Well, You have lots of PhDs and BAs. That made me think, why? Yes, having them is nice, but it seems more like you have to prove something.

"You're not talking about your parents, but you're very protective and respectful of the women around you, which made me think you're close to your mother and-or grew up in a very female-dominated household.

"Yet you're single and have no children, although having told us before that you're the godfather of your friends' children. Given these facts, I assume your father left you and you're mother, and since then, you try proving to yourself and him that it's his loss and that you're worth sticking around. It's just hard believing it yourself at times, and the thought of being too much like him messes with your love life because what if you run away too?"

I nodded, hiding behind my poker face how close she came. "Go on."

"You got very passive-aggressive as you saw me at the restaurant. You feared being stalked by me, which made me think of trauma a woman forced upon you since she was obsessed with you.

"You realized your reaction to me being here was too much and backtracked with awkward humor. You blush at times, which makes me think you're shy, were even shyer when you were younger, and women, sex, and family became interesting for the first time when you were in your mid to late twenties.

"You're still nice to me, very sweet actually, which tells me that somehow I did not embarrass you as much with this story as I recognized you in a very weird way. You're just very caught up in norms and uncertainty about this situation, so you do what you do best, and that is removing yourself from the situation."

So she saw me – just like Adriene saw Zane – and still, her pupils dilated, and she was interested in me.

"You're good at that. Are you sure you didn't stalk me?" I joked, and she giggled.

"I'm a writer. I can't even watch a movie without being able to predict the ending."

Maybe I would test that theory sometime and take her out for a movie. If she were up for the challenge, maybe even a Russian one.

"Want to even the square and profile me?" She offered.

"I have an unfair advantage since your fanfiction let me into your head and what you already told me," I told her, but she shrugged.

"It's okay."

Taking a deep breath, I started. "You're a young woman that clearly has a thing for older men. I'd say, growing up, you were always more mature than the boys in your classes. Everyone else around you began dating, but you couldn't find the idea of those drama-ridden boys entertaining enough to do so too. Instead, you read, maybe even more adult books than somebody your age should've."

Her big eyes captivated me, and so I sunk to my knees, crawling towards her while continuing.

"It made you realize that once boys became men, meaning they no longer were as childish as to solely think of a woman's looks and were ready to take care of someone and be responsible, they become interesting to you."

Her breathing became heavier as I leaned over her, one arm holding myself up, the other's fingertips dancing on the skin of her upper arm.

"Dating men older than you is, however, difficult since most of those who use dating apps are the same boys you didn't like in your teenhood, only older. Yet, you're somebody who depends on dating apps since you are too shy to ever see a man in public and just flirt. Some hard rejections while growing up, I assume.

"So you stopped looking for somebody for a while, and when coming to my classes, you found the type of man that spoke to you. I was your professor and therefore off-limits, I also blame some insecurities for your thinking, but that didn't stop you from fantasizing about it, so you began writing about all the little what if's.

"The fantasies felt good because, in them, you could develop not only me in the way you wanted it but could also write yourself to be the truest you there is. Adriene has a dream she can follow without struggle because she has the support of her family and the means to pursue it. [y/n] has a dream and talent, but your family has plans for you, and the academic pressure they put on you keeps you from pursuing what you actually want.

"This fanfiction is actually a very genius form of self-therapy for you. Whenever Adriene or another character struggles, it's actually yourself, and by resolving the struggle in your story and reading the comments that relate to it, you start to understand that you're not alone with them."

Now completely on top of here, I could see every micro reaction she had to me and my words. Had I crushed on her so badly myself before the fanfiction that I didn't realize how obviously she felt for me?

"I'm sorry I took that away from you," I whispered, knuckles brushing over her cheek and feeling the heat of embarrassment on them.

"You probably think I'm pathetic. Come on, say it. I can handle it," she urged for my rejection, but I wouldn't give it to her.

"I think you're the most real person I've ever met, [y/n]. People, including myself, hide their guilty pleasures away from everyone. We're taught who we can and cannot be and how much we are allowed to dream by society without feeling guilty.

"You just continued to dream with a username and a little jackalope bunny profile picture and decided to share your pleasures with others so they can dream as well. Without feeling guilt."

"You're romanticizing how weird our situation is," she mumbled, thinking I didn't notice her back arching so she'd be closer to me.

"It's a guilty pleasure of mine, then. Because I also enjoyed your fantasies more than I should've," I admitted, her eyes searching her face for a lie she wouldn't find.

"That almost sounds like you enjoyed reading about us being together," she whispered.

"What if I did?" I exhorted.

She swallowed thickly, licking her beautiful lips. "Then you're really playing with my fantasies right now."

I stood up, giving her her personal space back. I was not manipulating more of this situation. I knew my words and the effect they had on her. The next step had to come from her.

And if it wouldn't come, I would accept it as well.

Grabbing my jacket, I used it to hide away just how badly I wanted this situation to turn into more and walked to the bathroom.

After a cold shower that only barely helped, I dressed in my pajama pants and an old shirt, laying out my too-big, oversized hoodie for her to wear.

If nothing else, hopefully, it would smell like her in the morning.

"You can have the bed. I'll sleep on the couch," I told her, putting a blanket and pillow on the couch. Before she could protest, I told her, "It's only one night on the couch. No big deal. Take the bed."

She nodded, eyes gliding over my body, goggling a little since she'd never seen me dressed in less and as casually as this.

"Okay, Uhm... Thank you for the food and drinks," she said, taking in one last look and leaving me alone in the living room.

*****

☁︎ POV: [y/n] ☁︎

A quick shower later, I was dressed solely in panties and my professor's hoodie. It smelled like him, the bed as well, making me clench my thighs together.

I grabbed my phone, opened my emails, and began typing.

***

"Dear, Professor,

I think I've been wrong. You are a nice guy, after all. Thanks for the shirt.

– [y/n]"

***

"Little bunny,

You should go to bed. And please call me Spencer, at least for the moment.

– Spencer"

***

My breath hitched at the pet name and the fact he called himself Spencer Insisting I should do the same.

I was so desperate for this man. I didn't think he was aware of what his innocent words did to me.

***

"Spencer,

I am already in bed. Are you sure you're comfortable on the couch?"

***

"Why? Would you let me sleep in the bed if I wouldn't be?" He called through the closed bedroom door.

"Of course, I would sleep on the couch instead," I called back, a laugh in my voice.

The ping of a message from an unknown number made me look back at my phone.

***

UNKNOWN: "Well, then, I am perfectly fine here."

***

What the hell?

"How did you get my number?" I asked through the door, making Spencer chuckle.

"FBI, Bunny."

He had used his advantages at work to get my number, but I was the one getting teased. Biting my bottom lip, I saved his number.

***

ME: "Now, who's the obsessed stalker?"

SPENCER: "I am not obsessed. I am interested."

***

I was interested as well. More than I thought I would've been allowed to be, yet he continued to play on the same page as me.

***

ME: "That does almost sound like you're flirting, Professor. Do I need to remind you that I humiliated you in front of your FBI colleagues?"

SPENCER: "That's right. Maybe I should humiliate you back."

ME: "By all the things you know about me that are embarrassing, you wouldn't even have to try."

***

I was getting hot. This conversation's undertones had me all over the place. Stripping off the hoodie, I threw it aside, the cold air making my nipples pucker, which in return, egged on the heat between my legs.

***

SPENCER: "There's something I'd like to know about you."

ME: "What?"

SPENCER: "Are all the things in your story based on fantasies of yours?"

ME: "Wouldn't you like to know, Spencer?"

SPENCER: "Answer the question, and I'll answer one of yours."

***

Through my humiliation, I gave him the answer he wanted. Only getting rewarded with wetness pooling between my legs.

***

ME: "Okay. Yes. My fantasies."

SPENCER: "Interesting. Go ahead; it's your turn to ask something."

ME: "Why did you want to know?"

SPENCER: "Because I want to know what going on inside your head."

ME: "Why?"

SPENCER: "My turn to ask a question. Is your obsession with calling Zane your daddy based on your fantasies about men in general, or is it because he's a substitute for me?"

ME: "Are you asking me if I'd like to call you daddy?"

SPENCER: "Yes."

***

My eyes rolled into the back of my head, and I sighed. Clasping the covers between my legs, I couldn't help but rock against them to ease some of the pressure I was feeling.

If I was going to answer him, I really needed to substitute his name.

***

ME: "I thought it was strange at first, but Zane has certain aspects of himself that make it hard not to want to call him daddy when thinking of sex with him."

SPENCER: "Do you often think about it?"

ME: "Counter question: Do you ever?"

SPENCER: "I'm afraid that this story of yours tapped into fantasies I didn't think I had."

ME: "That's no answer."

SPENCER: "Fine. At first, I was weirded out, but it finds its way into my head over and over again."

SPENCER: "Why that guy?"

***

In which universe could I have the luck of my professor being jealous over my choice to have sex with another man?

Grinding harder against the covers, I wondered if he felt like me, wanted it as badly.

***

ME: "I'm tired of waiting, and romance clearly doesn't work since my taste in men is unattainable authority figures that are almost old enough to be my father."

SPENCER: "I'm not unattainable."

ME: "You are. It would hurt your reputation to fuck one of your students."

SPENCER: "You're no longer my student, though."

***

A whimper escaped my mouth, and for a second, I watched the door to make sure Spencer hadn't heard me.

He hadn't, which made me cocky enough to kick the covers away and spread my legs. The cold air felt good against my hot body.

***

ME: "Did the idea of my date make you jealous?"

SPENCER: "I have no right to be jealous, little bunny."

ME: "I would like you to be."

SPENCER: "I'm afraid you're making me lose my mind if I let jealousy take over."

***

One hand wandered down into my underwear. If nothing else would happen tonight, I could at least indulge in this feeling.

***

ME: "Do you wanna sleep in your bed?"

SPENCER: "Don't tempt me like that."

ME: "Why not?"

SPENCER: "Because I'd take something from you that I have no right to have."

ME: "Isn't that for me to decide?"

***

I let the offer stay right there. I wanted him, and I knew he knew it anyway. If he decided to act on it, I would be welcoming him.

As he didn't reply, however, I placed my phone on the nightstand and continued to rub my clit, now more eagerly since there was nothing more to wait for than the glorious feeling of a so desperately needed orgasm washing over me.

My breathing became louder as I tried not to moan, hips lifting. I closed my eyes, inhaling the scent of Spencer and imagining him administrating those touches that lit me on fire.

"Does your offer still—" Spencer asked and immediately stopped in his tracks when coming in.

"Fuck," I gasped as I lay there on full display, quickly scrambling myself up, pulling my hand out of my panties, and covering my breasts.

Staring at me for a long while, Spencer's eyes became darker, his breathing heavier.

"Now, don't let me stop you from what you were doing, little bunny. You seemed to enjoy yourself," he told me predatorial, stepping closer with me caught in his gaze like a helpless rabbit.

Crawling onto the bed, he made me realize the full extent of his pet name for me. "So that's what you're doing when you're all alone in bed?" He asked, and I let him back me down onto the mattress.

He grabbed my hand, forcing it to let go of the try to cover my breasts, and chuckled darkly as he inspected the wetness on my fingers.

Inhaling sharply, he brought them to his face and took them into his mouth, cleaning them from my arousal.

"Please," I whimpered as I thought I would die from excitement.

"You really want that?" He asked teasingly, and I began nodding.

"Since that stupid day, you borrowed me your jacket. I- I kept it on when I..." My words got caught in my through, and another whimper left me.

An animalistic groan escaped Spencer as he growled, "You fucked yourself wearing my coat?"

"It smelled like you," I explained, hips trying to invite him to come closer. "I- I closed my eyes and imagined it to be you touching me."

"Can I kiss you?" He questioned, eyes carefully searching for my consent.

I nodded eagerly. "You can do whatever you want to me."

The second his lips collided with mine, I thought I had died and gone straight to heaven. He was careful at first, but it wasn't long until he couldn't hold back his lust anymore.

As his tongue swapped over my bottom lip, I allowed it into my mouth. Meanwhile, he gently pressed me against the mattress, one leg between mine, putting pressure exactly where I needed it so desperately.

"Oh my God," I whimpered into the kiss, and he backed away. His lips were flushed from our kisses, but that didn't stop the cocky smile of his from spreading on them.

"And there I thought you'd just call me Daddy," he chuckled, moving a hand between my legs, touching me over my soaked through underwear. "Oh, wow. You're dripping, my little bunny. Is that all for me?"

I nodded, rubbing myself against his hand. "All yours."

Spencer got off me, grabbing my underwear, waiting for me to lift my ass and allow him to take it off. As I did, he pulled it down with such a hurried force the flimsy material ripped, making us both laugh gently as he threw it over his shoulder.

"Did you ever have somebody go down on you?" He asked, pressing a kiss onto my knee and lowering himself between my legs.

Propping myself up on my elbows, I shook my head. "You- You don't have to. I know it's more of a women's fantasy that-"

Spencer interrupted me, kissing my inner thigh, "Don't stop me unless you don't want me to touch you, okay?"

I nodded, letting him guide me back down. He began placing kisses on my inner thighs, and his curls tickled between my legs.

The anticipation was driving me crazy, making a loud moan escape me as he finally dragged his flat tongue through my folds.

Liking my reaction, he did it again and again. Then began focusing more on my swollen clit. Spencer's tongue played with it, flicking from side to side and drawing circles onto its sensitive skin, which made my eyes roll back.

"That idiot would not have known what to do with a woman so gorgeous," he said, fingers moving towards my slit, coating themselves with my natural lubricant.

As he carefully entered me with one, I gasped. The instruction was new, filling me with excitement.

"Is that okay?" He asked, cautious of my reactions, and I nodded while he gently began moving his digit in and out of me at a slow pace.

Tongue back on my clit, he began moving his finger faster. The pleasure I received left me breathless, helplessly clawing my hands into Spencer's hair to make sure he'd stay right where I needed him the most.

As he added a second finger, my hips began moving more frantically, making him start to hold me down while eating me out. I moaned and cried in pleasure, trying to stay alert enough not to smother his head between my legs.

With a final swipe of Spencer's tongue, I came, crying out his name, deliciously humping against his mouth as he fucked me through my high.

As my breathing became more normal again, he chuckled against my skin, sitting back on his knees and taking off his shirt.

I hurried myself up as well, hands quickly all over him. Wrapping his arms around me, he let himself fall onto the bed, pulling me with him.

As I lay partially on top of him, his hand moved under my chin, bringing me closer and kissing me softly. The faint taste of myself on his lips drove me to the rim of madness.

Greedily gripping the waistband of his pants, I tried to remove the final barrier keeping him from me. Spencer chuckled, helping me with it and catching me as I almost fell off the bed while throwing his clothes across the room.

"You are so fucking eager," he laughed as I claimed onto him, straddling his lap.

Kissing him roughly, I rocked my his against his hard cock, feeling the precum rubbing itself between my folds and adding to the wetness there.

"Wa- Wait. We need a condom, [y/n]," Spencer spoke breathlessly. His arm wrapped around me so I couldn't move anymore and make his rationality sign out.

"I'm on birth control. We- We don't have to use one," I suggested, knowing I'd dreamed of this moment in so many facets, yet it was always raw, with him claiming me.

Staring into my face, he became stern, lecturing almost. "I hope you didn't plan to be so reckless with the loser you wanted to fuck," he said, almost like a question.

I quickly shook my head. No. Never. Only with him, I wanted it to be this way. "I have a whole box in my bag but- but I'd like..."

As embarrassment killed my voice, he nodded, placing kisses on my cheek and neck. "It's okay, Bunny. I know. I read it."

Before I could feel any embarrassment due to his words, he grabbed my face and pulled me into a rough kiss.

As he pulled away, he growled with a dangerous smirk, "Daddy's going to come inside you, so you fucking know who you belong to."

A high-pitched moan left my mouth. He'd just quoted my story and looked like it had been the greatest thing for him ever to say.

"You wanna stay on top?" He asked, and I thought for a second and nodded.

"Yes, please," I said, lifting my hips.

Letting a hand glide between us, Spencer dragged his cock through my folds, coating it in my wetness. As his head then placed itself at my entrance, I felt the earlier nervousness rush through me again.

I sank down on him, becoming too eager to think of how much I could actually take.

As he was completely inside me, I realized my mistake, the burning between my thighs making me inhale sharply and whimper, "Shit."

I hid my face in the crook of Spencer's neck. I would've jumped off him and rolled into a crying ball on the bed, but I was too afraid to move. It burned.

"Are you okay, Sweetheart?" Spencer asked worriedly, and I sat back up properly, hissing at the stinging feeling between my legs.

"Hurts," I mumbled. "Didn't think it would be that bad."

Wiping away a tear that had freed itself and ran down my cheek, he kissed me gently before resting his forehead against mine.

"It's different for every woman. We can stop if it's too much."

I shook my head abruptly. "N-No. I wanted this for so long. I- I just need a second."

Spencer nodded. He moved one hand to my lower back and the other to my hair, holding me close. "It's okay. We have all the time in the world," he whispered softly. "Just try to relax. You're doing so well already."

The more time passed, the more the pain ebbed away. I became aware of his length and grid stretching me, how he pulsed within me, his head resting firmly against my cervix.

He was so close to me, stroking over my hair, kissing me, and letting me feel him.

I moved a little, bringing his hand down between my legs. His forehead rested against mine as he slowly started to rub my clit in circles.

"You like that?" He asked quietly.

I nodded breathlessly. "Uh-huh."

We smiled at each other softly, stupidly. And as the lust returned, the pain was nothing more than a faint memory that was already blurred.

I began slowly rocking my hips, his hand still working on me.

As I picked up more pace, Spencer searched for my eyes. "Does it still hurt?" He asked, concerned, but I quickly shook my head.

"So good."

Bouncing on him like a little bunny, my moans became unhinged, fed by his low grunts. I threw my head back just to let it rush forward against his lips or his shoulder, kissing him roughly or nibbling on his skin, marking him with my bite marks.

"Keep your eyes on me, [y/n]. Eyes on me, Baby," he ordered after a while, grabbing my face and forcing me to look at him while he began thrusting up into me.

"Is this what you thought it would be like?" He asked with a hoarse voice.

I shook my head, squealing excitedly. "It's so much better."

With one swift motion, he turned us around, having me lay on the bed. As he began pounding into me, my delirious mind slipped up. "Fuck, Daddy," I moaned loudly, not knowing how he'd feel about it in all seriousness.

His hips staggered for a second, and he met my gaze with a praising smile. "Good girl. Such a good fuckin girl."

He growled deeply, arms caging me in underneath him as his pace picked up again, our skin slapping loudly against each other, my thighs hurting most deliciously due to the impact.

"Fuck, fuck," I cussed, rocking against him as I felt my second orgasm approaching. "Daddy, please, I-" I interrupted my own, begging for release with loud moans.

Spencer's hand moved down between us, rubbing me again. "That's it, come for me, Bunny. Come for Daddy."

The crashing wave hit me suddenly with an unstoppable force. I threw my head back, arching into his final thrusts as he came inside me.

Dropping to his elbows, he kissed me softly, and his thrusts came to a halt. His knuckles brushed over my cheek as he looked at me. "Are you okay?"

I let out a deep, satisfied sigh, "Fuck, that felt good."

He pulled out, laying down next to me. "I know virginity is just a social construct created by men, but thank you for letting it be me."

I nodded, deadpanning, "Charity work for the elderly."

He gasped in fake appall. "What?" He asked, starting to tickle me. "What did you say?" He asked again, not stopping as I laughed. "I think I didn't hear you correctly."

"Stop it," I begged through my giggles. "Stop, Spencer." As he finally stopped, he pressed another kiss on my lips.

"You wanna try out the jacuzzi tub?" I asked, and he sat up.

"How many bubbles do you want, little bunny?"

I pushed myself up, declaring, "A lot."

*****

"How do you feel?" Spencer asked once we lay in the tub, me between his legs, his arms wrapped around me.

I shrugged. "Strangely enough, the same as before. Except that I now know how it feels to fuck you."

He leaned forward for a second to kiss my cheek, then made himself comfortable again.

"Are you mad at me for writing that story?" I asked, not daring to look at him. Should his face give the answer away, I didn't want to see it.

"No," he sighed. "I was never mad. At first, I was extremely uncomfortable, not knowing how to react, but now, I'm actually glad for it."

"It's still weird, though, right?" I asked, making him chuck and pull me closer.

"Yeah," he admitted. "But I can live with a little weird. Normal would be boring."

I pressed the button on the side of the tub, turning the jacuzzi function on. Turning it up some more, I sighed relaxed, stretching. I was sore—a nice kind of sore.

For a while, we just lay there, listening to the sounds of our own breathing.

"Should you ever decide to turn 'Paper Hearts & Printer Ink' into a novel, I'd love to proofread it, do some of the jobs you'd need an editor for, or answer your questions about working for the FBI," Spencer spoke into the silence between us.

I chuckled, "You're not just being nice now because we had sex, right?"

I practically heard him shaking his head. "No. I- I guess I just like your type of weird. The way you wrote about Zane and Adriene... If being with you is like being with Adriene, I'd like that."

"So you're crushing on the fictional character I created?" I asked, turning around.

"I love how she loves Zane, although he's an idiot at times. If you're anything like her, I need you."

The shit-eating smirk on his handsome face said it all. He knew it was a self-insert. He just wanted to play it cool. Dork.

"Who says I'd need a Zane, though?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

He shrugged. "Wishful thinking."

"Now, wouldn't I just make an amazing profiler," I giggled.

"What makes you think that?"

Laying back against his chest, I simply said, "I was right about us fitting together."

"I'm in Vegas until Thursday. If you'd like, I'd want you to stay with me," Spencer offered. "We could go on a couple of dates, I show you around, and we'll test your hypothesis."

Okay. This was a permanent thing. No one-time thing. If I was dreaming, I definitely didn't want to wake up.

"I'd love that," I said, adding sassily, "But I don't get why people love coming to Vegas, though. So I hope you're not planning on taking me to a casino."

He was silent for a second, then reluctantly said, "I'm banned from casinos in Vegas. I- I might've pushed my luck when I became a young adult."

"You counted the cards?" I snickered, hearing him snort behind me while trying to defend himself.

"In my defense, it came naturally to me." As our laughter ceased, he added, "I hope you're okay with boring museum and bookstore dates."

He had read my story, so I answered, "You know I am."

Turning on the bubbles some more, I looked out the big bathroom window while Spencer figured out how to turn on the bathroom TV, putting on an old black and white movie with Marilyn Monroe.

He sighed happily, handing me my water bottle since he insisted that I needed to stay hydrated. Taking the bottle from me, he kissed my cheek and cackled, "And all of this because of a fanfiction."

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hughessdemon · 9 months

Note

pls can i request first time with jack hughes but its smut and fluffy? i love your writings

Here it is

Warning ⚠️: smut + fluffy ?

The fact is that, even though their relationship had grown - touching and kissing was not a problem anymore -, they hadn't have sex yet. It's not that she didn't want to do it with him. She just couldn't. Just. A million things would come to her mind when she started thinking about it. Her lack of experience, her self-confidence. She was really afraid of not knowing what to do. Not knowing how to do it. And the fact that this amazing boy, who seemed to love her enough to let sex off the table... well, it was simply overwhelming.

And there she was, again, reading him one of her fanfictions. Jack was sitting behind her, back against the wall. His nose was burried in her hair. It felt so good, she thought.

It was amazing how he could make her relax. She felt safe around him.

While she was reading, he gave her some soft kisses on her neck and was good. Jack also played a little with her ears, just for fun (he liked the way she laughed when he did that).

As she finished reading her story and closed her laptop, he opened his eyes and asked her:

"Is it over?"

"Yes" she said with a short smile on her face.

"But I was enjoying it... the story can't just finish right now"

"It isn't finished yet... I have to write more chapters to it. Relax." she said, making a funny face.

"Hmmm... So, why don't you put that laptop away for a while and give me a kiss, baby ?"

"I'll think about it" She turned her back and kissed him, softly. Then, she got up and put her computer on the sofa. She had some water and got back to his bed, sitting on his lap and kissing all his face, on all of her favorite spots. How was it possible that he tasted so good?

Jack pulled her body closer to his. With a hand on her back and the other on her head, lost among her hair, he kissed her lips deeply. It didn't matter how many times he had kissed her, it always felt like the first. He smelled like coffe. She loved that smell. It was almost hypnotic.

She stoped breathing for a moment. His hand touched the skin on her stomach and softly moved to her back, making her shiver. She was scared and her heart was beating so fast she could feel it. She didn't know what to do. She turned to face him. Jack was giving her that cute grin, like a child who's about to have a candy before dinner. She let him kiss her more passionately... even though her head was telling her to go back to her dorm room. As they broke apart from the kiss, he looked at her and she realized he saw the fear in her eyes. He understood what was going on in her head and, before she could say anything, he put his finger on her lips and said:

"It's ok, baby. If you don't feel confortable with anything just tell me and I will stop. I told you it is completely off the table until you're ready for it... I don't intend to do anything you don't want to." And he kissed her again. This time closer to her, holding her. Passing his hands all over her back .

And he smelled so good.

"I am ready" she whispered, closed eyes. "I wanna do it with you. Here. Now." she said, opening her eyes, finding his face so close to hers she could actually feel his heavy breath on her face.

At first, he seemed astonished. He definitely was not expecting for her to say that. She never saw jack with that face. He was looking into her eyes, trying to understand what had just happened. As if he couldnt believe what he had heard. She then realized she had said it aloud and started blushing.

"I don't want you to do it just because I wanna do it... or because you feel that you have do it" he whispered at her. His breath still heavy.

"No, Jack ... I mean it" and kissed his lips, a little smile on her lips. "I wanna do it with you"

"Are you sure?"

"Yep"

He smiled at her. Not any smile... one she hadn't seen until that moment. His eyes were sparkling... like she was the most beautiful woman in the world. She took a deep breath and kissed Jack .

She let him kiss her neck and pass his hands under her t-shirt. Big warm hands. They felt so good in her skin, she thought. She was so lost in her thoughts that she forgot to actually do something. When she realized she was there, just being kissed and touched, she started exploring Jack’s body as well. Don’t worry, I’ll go slow, but you need to tell me to stop if you get uncomfortable. Okay?”

“I promise,” your hands lifted his shirt up slightly, “can I?” He nodded, raising his arms so you could remove the material. You let your hands wander along his chest, trailing your fingers along the ridge of his arm.

“Does it hurt?” His breath hitched when you kissed the ridged skin tenderly. He shook his head in response, letting out a quiet reply.

“Not all the time, but your kisses make it better.”

You shrugged back at him, wrapping your arms around his back, leaning your head back to look up at him, “Tell me what you want me to do, baby.” He said, grazing his thumb on your cheek.

“Kiss me again.” He smiled and leaned towards you, you met him halfway. But you weren’t paying much attention until you accidentally butted heads with his. The both of you groaned and rubbed where your heads met. He looked at you, then the next moment you both burst out laughing.

“I’m sorry (Y/N), what a mood killer.” Shaking your head, your hands brush his hair away from his face.

“No, it’s not, it just means you get to do it again.”

This time was more successful, as his mouth began to wander. He traced kisses down your chest, taking a nipple into his mouth as his left hand cupped the other one. You gasped when he pinched the hard bud between his fingers. Your hands tugged at his hair, pulling him back up to kiss you. He groaned when he felt your hands trail down his chest and past the bands of his shorts. Reading your message, jack stood up from the bed and removed the rest of his clothing, then resuming his place above you. Your eyes grew wide when you took in his length.

You’ve seen it before, but this time it was actually going to go inside you. How the fuck was that supposed to fit? It was going to tear you in half!

“Hey, it’s alright,” he said, resting his forehead on yours, “we still don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

You shook your head, pulling on his hair slightly, “No, I want to do this. J-Just go slow, okay?”

He leaned down and kissed you tenderly, “Let me prep you first, okay? Just so it hurts less.” You nodded quickly, shivered when his hand made his way down to the apex of your thighs until he reached your entrance. He leaned forward and kissed your mouth softly, swallowing the moan that slipped past as he slipped the first digit in.

“You okay?” You answered him by pushing your hips against his hand. He slowly added another finger, continuing to pump them in and out slowly as to not to hurt you.

“Jack, please…I-I need you.” He pulled out and grabbed a condom from the nightstand. He was about to rip it open with his teeth but then dropped it when your nails trailed up his thighs. He shuddered at the touch, so focused on how soft your hands felt against him.

“Your hands…fuck they’re so soft.” He watched you intently through glazed eyes as you ripped the package open.

“Let me.” Without taking your eyes off his, you grasped his member and pumped your hand experimentally.

“Oh, fuck, (Y/N), s-stop. If you keep that up, I’m going to finish before you.” You removed your hand and slid the condom up his length as he held your head in his hands, kissing you sweetly. He pushed you back, so you were both laying down. He slipped his tongue past your lips, wrapping your legs around his waist. Your hips bucked up to his, using your legs as leverage to pull him down towards you. He grunted when his cock made contact with your ass. He pulled back shortly after, eyes locking with yours again.

“Let me know if I need to stop, okay?”

“I promise. Make love to me, Jack.” He pressed his lips against your temple, bracing himself on his arms , while his other hand slid up your chest to cup your face.

“Oh, Rowdy .” You gasped as Jack slowly slid into you.

“You feel so good baby,” groaning as he slid in the rest of the way, waiting a few moments as you adjusted to him, “y-you’re so tight.”

“No s-shit, Sherlock, glad to know your brain still works.” You replied, chuckling slightly as Jack glared at you. “You’re such a boner killer.”

“You mean this one?” Pushing your hips against his, squeezing your walls around him in the process. Now it was his turn to gasp, his hand losing its grip on the sheets as he jerked against you. A few seconds passed, then he got his bearings back together and pulled out slowly, pushing back in. He did this a few times before setting a steady pace.

“Fuuuck, (Y/N),” Jack groaned into your neck, the vibrations shooting straight towards your core, “you’re so perfect.”

#jack hughes #jack hughes nhl #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes game #jack hughes x reader #nj devils #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes insta edit #jack hughes wife #jack hughes smut

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ddejavvu · 10 months

Note

Congrats on 20k!! 'Finger lickin' good'--Can I get Steve Harrington, smitten and taking an equally smitten reader home from a party? Could it even get a little spicy 👀?

join my 20K celebration!

'it's finger lickin' good.' - send me a request for a baby blurb! give me a character, and a plotline, and i'll write you a little fanfiction :)

baby i'm sorry i had a vision for this and then it veered completely off course! it's still the same general plotline but it's a lot more giggly than it is sexy and i'm sorry about that </3 i hope you still enjoy!

You nearly giggle yourselves off of the steps of the porch, landing hard on your feet so that your ankles ache for a second. Steve sways into you, his arm around your shoulders as he drops his empty cup on the lawn.

"Steve! Litterbug," You accuse, and he snorts like it's the funniest thing in the world.

"This is Andy's house," He explains, like that makes it okay to throw trash on the ground, "He deserves it."

"Is that your car?" You point at the first one you see, and he shakes his head.

"No, mine's red."

"That one?" You point at the next red one down the street, but he reacts the same.

"No, I'm in a beamer."

"Is that... that one?" You point across the street, at a brown car that's parked in a house's driveway. Steve isn't sure why you think it's his, it's not a BMW and it's not red, but it strikes his funny bone again, and he laughs higher-pitched than normal.

"No," He pinches your side, and you shriek, nearly collapsing into his hold. He catches you, and it's all the more funny now, meaning you're stumbling down the sidewalk trying not to tip into the street.

"I'm down there," He points behind you two, then seems to realize, "Wait- we're- we're going the wrong way."

You have to sit down to stop yourself from falling over with laughter. Everything is funnier after four full cups of jungle juice, and you clutch at Steve's ankle as you feel a tear escape your eye.

"Shut up!' He urges, swatting gently at your head, "Don't- don't laugh! You didn't know either."

"I want- I want you to carry me, Stevie~," You croon, giggling up at him with tear-lined eyes from how hard you've been struck by the situation, "Please? I might fall down."

"What-? I'm drunk," He grumbles, like you don't know it, "Okay, just don't- don't fall, okay?"

"Okay." You nod, letting him wrestle you into his grip. It's hard not being in complete control of all of your limbs, but you manage to get your uncoordinated arms wrapped around his neck, and your legs around his waist.

Steve starts back down the road towards his car, but evidently you'd strayed too far down the street for the neighbor's dog's liking, and he manages to slip through a gap in the fence to head for Steve.

At first, you think he might be territorial and angry. You yelp, tightening your grip around Steve and trying to hoist yourself up his torso. But Steve scrambles to balance the both of you while also darting away from the animal, and it means his hands land directly on your ass. You don't admonish him, because you really don't care, and the dog is still trotting your way.

Upon a second glance, he's relaxed, merely curious as to why there's so many people in the house next door. You decide you want to pet him, though, and you lean over Steve's shoulder to do so. It means that your ass is in his face, and the skirt you'd elected to wear is giving him quite the show.

"Puppy!" You coo, reaching eagerly for the dog that leans into your hands with several giddy wags of its tail. Steve's having the hardest time keeping the two of you steady while also being considerate enough not to ogle the thin strip of fabric just barely covering your butt beneath your skirt, and he's sure you can feel how flushed his cheeks are from how one presses into the left side of your ass.

"Steve," You laugh, as the dog licks the palm of your hand, "He's friendly! Pet him with me, please?"

"Honey, I can't," Steve grits his teeth as you lean further towards the animal, nearly pitching yourself off of his shoulder, "Can you- can you stand up?"

"No, I'm okay!" You report happily, like he was asking for your comfort's sake, "Keep going, Stevie! Let's see if we can lure him into the car."

"He's not yours, is he?" Steve muses, trekking down the street with more difficulty than he'd like to admit. A pair of guys pass the two of you, and he nearly drops you in trying to smooth your skirt down to a reasonable length so that they can't stare.

"He will be once we get him in the car, c'mon, puppy!" You kiss at the animal, speaking to Steve in your normal voice afterwards, "Finders keepers, Stevie. Oh, but you have to keep him at your house. My parents don't like dogs."

"Oh, really?" He's panting slightly as he sets you down with your back against the window of his car, and he finally gets a good look at the yellow lab you're lured away from his home. He looks happy to be there, eagerly accepting a pat on the head from Steve.

"Yeah. And- um, do you know how to get to my house? I forgot."

"No," He breathes, "You'll remember tomorrow. You said you'd come to mine, remember?"

"Oh, yeah!" You brighten, "But I don't know the way to your house, either."

"I do," He laughs, scratching the dog behind the ears when it noses at his fingers. But he sends him off with a pat to the side, "'Kay, g'home, dog. Let's go, okay?"

"But- my puppy!" You watch aghast as the dog follows orders, tucking his head down towards the ground and trotting back home, "Steve, you're mean."

"It's not- no I'm not!" He urges, "That's not your dog!"

"I wanted him to be," You lament, "Can we stop by the animal shelter on the way home? I wanna get a dog."

"You said-" Steve can't quite remember what you said, actually, he just knows there's a reason why that won't work, "Uh- sure. Yeah, but they're- I think they're closed."

"Tomorrow?" You ask hopefully, and he nods, completely on board with whatever will make the slight pout to your lips disappear.

"Yeah, tomorrow," He unlocks his door, popping the lock on your own side up just after, "Just hop in, we'll do whatever you want, babe."

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katsukiizmoon · 11 months

Text

Fanfiction Writing / Reading

Hi everyone, I wanted to make a little post on general fanfiction writing and reading etiquette etc for everyone. For reference I've been writing fanfiction since I was 12, I'm now nearing 23 and I've been on tumblr since 2013. There's links to resources for those that would like them.

-> GENERAL ADVICE

Color Coding Dialogue On Tumblr: While using color can create visual contrast in things like titles or description, using it to color code dialogue can cause problems for those who are neurodivergent or vision impaired. For instance, I have trouble reading things where the dialogue for one character is bright in color. This means I miss out and can't read and support many new writers.

Showing support for your writers: I don't think demanding reblogs is an appropriate response. However, as someone who has been here for a long time, it's important. You can show your support by commenting, liking, reblogging (and reblogging with tags gives brownie points). Generally : liking will be lost in a sea of likes over time making it harder for you to find that fic again but shows you thought it was good, reblogging shows you enjoyed the fic enough to share it with those on your blog (you can even have a side blog dedicated to fics) and would like to find it again, reblogging with tags or comments says that you enjoyed it enough to share it, push it higher in the tags and that you had thoughts. This helps motivate writers ! Feel free to send them an anonymous ask if you're shy, expressing that you really enjoyed their work.

Use of italics and bold in works: Italics and bold should be used to indicate stressing or importance of certain words. EX: "no you did it!" vs "no you did it" ! You don't need to italic entire dialogue unless it's in certain situations (flashbacks, memories, whispers, etc)

Plotting & Timing: Plot and timing can be a really useful tool! Understanding what your characters are doing and having the plot move smoothly is important when writing. It prevents gaps and promotes interest. Even some of my works move a little too fast, and it can sometimes cause confusion.

READ, READ, READ: Reading is probably the fastest way to increase and broaden your horizons as an author. It allows you to gain a larger vocabularic range and new metaphors. And it helps you find what could be plot holes and more.

SMUT ; Cum Timing: I've written this before, it can happen but it's unlikely. I'll make a whole post dedicated to.. smut. But for now. Here's some other scenarios and miscellaneous notes: -> bottom cums really early on, then the top cums later -> top cums extremely early on, proceeds with oral on bottom -> top can't get it up (this happens a bit with drugs involved) for a while and gives pleasure to bottom, then stops and gives up on an orgasm

Those are a few of my main, overall tips but I'm going to link you to a bunch of resources, too. I understand more than anyone what it's like being new to this. But one of the biggest pieces advice I'm going to give you is:

Allow your writing to be objectively "bad" at first. It always comes with practice. My first fanfictions I used "~" like it was a goddamn period. It's okay.

-> RESOURCES

"writing resources : words are hard"

"describing feelings, emotions, and tone"

"au prompt list"

"how to write medieval smut"

"starting a new paragraph"

"writing resources: world building"

"writing fight scenes"

"ways to further develop main characters"

There are tons of writing blogs on tumblr. You can send them an ask anonymously if you have any questions and they may respond with some good resources. Being a little more on the accurate side, even if you accidentally fuck up a bit, gives you brownie points a LOT.

Have a nice day OwO !

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ykiwrite · 1 year

Text

letters to wednesday

"Don't even think about it."

You didn't even had a chance to say anything before she cut you off.

"What? I didn't make a noise-"

"You want me to dance with you, correct?"

It would be a lie if you said no and she would by all odds saw right through you. The dancefloor was overflowing with people, couples every now and then, teachers, even soloists. The observer she is, Wednesday must have caught you eyeing everyone and everything, smiling to some or dying in embarrassment.

Two of you occupied the farthest table possible in the dance hall because she insisted it's for the best and she has zero interest in watching this nonsense so it's better not to witness at all. Neither did Enids convincing help, it only added fuel to the fire when she said you two looked like a black hole in the corner ready to draw in anyone from afar due to matching black dresses no one dares to glance, let alone look at you for too long. That was the best compliment she got today, other than that it was dreadful. Too much of bright colors, lights way too bright, music was obnoxious and she regretted everything leading to this point. All she did was silently count the minutes until it's acceptable to leave without looking too rude which was unusual for her. Since when did she care? Would hate to admit it but ever since you came along she noticed the unusually big number of situations she found herself in if it weren't for you she would avoid.

"How did you- okay well, maybe? Would it kill you to dance with me?"

"Yes, i'd rather take death as an option."

"Come on, it doesn't have to be long. Just a few minutes."

"Absolutely not, it's humiliating and the song choice is beyond acceptable."

"We didn't move from this table ever since we arrived. Plus, look at us. We both match and you can't deny we look the best out of everyone there. Let me remind you this black dress i had to wear because you wouldn't come to the dance if i didn't equals you owing me."

"The only thing i can agree with you on is the reason why we look so stunning is because of me. Otherwise you would pick some rainbow colored dress Enid made you wear."

"Wednesday please. It's not every year this happens."

"Good thing it doesn't. It shouldn't even happen at the first place."

Just like that you realized it's probably not worth it chasing after her stubborn self. Taking a glance once again for hundredth time around the room, leftovers on every table, alcohol of which you have no idea how it got imported, Enid most likely gathering a new gossip worthy stories in the corner, teachers talking with new faces you never seen before, it was starting to get dull and boring. Wednesday could recognize that face of yours clearly, it's her most known one after all. Except when she's with you but only she knows that.

"Where are you going?" Wednesday questioned as you got up from your loyal seat you swear left your figure on it from how long you've been sitting.

"Just outside for a bit. It's getting hot [in] here anyway. I'll come back in a few."

Cold, almost freezing stone did justice outside. Although not being as comfortable as that chair from the inside it was bearable for a quick stop. Pulling out your phone thinking Wednesday is not completely crazy when she says humanity is too dependent on it nowadays. She has her own way of thinking and you did appreciate the dynamic of you two. Somehow and for whatever unknown way you two work together. It was never a plan, much less expectation to fall in love with someone. Your only goal was to get out of this legal prison as soon as possible. Now you're not coming out alone after all.

As she writes her novels on the old fashioned typewriter, you are not far behind following her with a laptop on your lap making frequents visits to AO3 and Tumblr doing your own writing. She's not interested in that fanfiction stuff anyway. If anything you two certainly excel at together is shared, concerningly over detailed knowledge of serial killers. You are convinced that's on top of the list of reasons what made her adore you.

"This is not what a short break looks like."

Turning around only to be met with Wednesdays far better expression than it was looking at that dance inside. You must have lost track of time once you checked your phone.

"It's getting to an end anyway."

"Enid told me i should give this a chance. Precisely, you a chance. According to her we could ‘close off this dance in a style’ or whatever's the meaning behind that" she said taking a empty seat next to you.

It was your out of the ordinary silence Wednesday made a remark of. Out of everyone in this school you are record holder for most spoken words with her that are not necessary life threats or morbid and existential philosophical quotes. That's something to be quite proud of. Which also means she can read you well.

"So, do you not want to go back inside?"

Shifting your gaze that found a spot on the moon to her, you were about to answer but stopped the moment your eyes met hers. Is this the thing Kafka wrote about, you wondered. All those letters made sense.

Wednesday was ethereal. Too shallow word to describe her. Yet you didn't allow yourself to let it be known out loud. What would she think, probably another saying of yours that caught your attention amongst all the things internet offers. No depth behind it, no genuine emotions, thrown into the sentence just because with no backing whatsoever.

You weren't aware Wednesday grew to love it. You weren't aware your cold and frightening girlfriend took interest in your ramblings over the months. You didn't know you were far better therapist than that woman she escaped from ever was. What do you think the main topic of her parents calls was?

"You can say it" broke the silence.

"What exactly?"

She sighed as she took your hand, surprisingly warm hands that saved the warmth from inside intertwined with yours lifelessly cold.

"Shall we go?"

"Dorms?"

She nodded, overly prepared and ready to leave this place once and for all.

"Yeah. Let's go watch some documentary on unsolved murders." you proposed. Few steps ahead of her, hands never changed the positions from before when she tugged you to a halt.

You shot her questioning look as she shortened the distance to the point of her breath hitting you as she whispered "This is an exception, for you only."

Gently grabbing you before pulling you in for a embrace. It felt comforting, enough, odd gesture but all you can wish for. With your eyes shut tight it felt like eternity passed.

"That's all i'm getting for sitting 5 hours straight today?" you said through laughs.

"Maybe more at the dorm but don't be too greedy."

lack of wednesday fics is wild

#wednesday imagine #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x reader

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ladystarksneedle · 7 months

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What happened to Liv? 😭 I know you two are close I can’t find her blog anymore 😭😭😭😭

Hey anon! Thank you for reaching out. Liv decided to deactivate or delete her blog after all the hate anons she received. It was a pretty pointless debate, if you'd even call it that at this point, with her getting very vile and personally attacking anons to the point where she felt this wasn't a happy place to be sharing her thoughts, to which I absolutely agree with.

Since you've brought up the topic that was the shortest answer I could give you above. If you are interested in reading more I'll expand below the cut, as I have a lot to say.

This whole thing started about a fictional character, Michael Gavey, who hasn't appeared on screen or will appear for 64 seconds and sparked a debate on whether you should write or read or plainly consume fanfiction about a character who hasn't been properly defined.

Now it could have remained that. A debate and I personally see things from both povs

This is a post I agree with as a writer.

Here

I'm an amateur, I've just begun writing but my style or whatever I'm finding, matches the one mentioned above. I need visual cues and I need to see and analyse a character more if I ever consider writing about him so yes, I personally would not write about a character I haven't completely analysed or who hasn't appeared on screen yet.

As a reader however, I have a different perspective. I love spoilers. I like knowing things beforehand and going through them in my head before reading a book or consuming media. Its fun to go "oh what I pictured turned out to be quite close to what's being shown here". The accuracy or near accuracy gives me a boost. I'm happy when I feel like I analysed or thought about a character similar to what I see later on. It shows me I understood the creator and what they were trying to portray even before seeing it. Gives me a "we are maybe on the same wavelength" feeling and thats fantastic.

That's why I can see a similar perspective to authors and creators already writing fanfiction for him before they've seen the movie. They have an image in their head and they want to be creative and show you how wonderful their imagination is. What's wrong with that? I have many moots who've written lovely stories that I want to read and I probably will.

Coming back to the point, what I don't understand is why people decided that these were such drastically opposite views and decided to sling hatred at whoever didn't conform to their idea of consumption and creation of media.

Why was there a need to send hate to a creator who said she didn't want to read or write as yet just because she wanted to get to know him better before doing so?

Why was there a need to harass writers who wanted to write and express their feelings being all gatekeepy over their work instead?

And why was there a need to constantly continue this anon responding and giving them traction all over again. It should have been shot down long before a fellow creator was forced to leave this site for good. We're all friends here why can't we be civil and respect each other's opinions.

A post stating your preference is not calling the other out. It is simply that, stating your preference and we as a fandom need to stop clinging to crumbs and overanalyzing stuff like this and use them for call out games.

Look at his pretty face and analyse those crumbs instead.

This is supposed to be fun, please continue to letting it be fun for others too.

That's all.

#asks #fandom bs

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imonthemoonitsmadeofcheese · 7 days

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Hello! Me again, back to pester you about lore.

So what's going on with The Drifter? For once I know a little about the character, I read 'A Man With No Name', but I still have questions. From how the book read, Drifter convinced Felwinter to get revenge for the destruction of the village. Did that go anywhere? And what did Drifter get up to for the (unspecified very long) timeskip between the book and the game?

And with the modern day, does the Vanguard know he's running a fighting ring out of the basement? Or does every single guardian look away when Zavala tries figuring out where people keep getting these weapons? I guess first rule of fight club and all that. What's he even trying to do? He seems to be pretty against most of the Vanguard's leadership.

Anyway, another invitation to infodump about your other blorbo. I hope you don't mind XD

If you thought I was long-winded about Eris... She's maybe 400 years old whereas the Drifter may be 900... get comfy... this will not be quick.

"Dark Age was wild times."

I adore the Drifter and a good chunk of how and why I adore him is his voice - both the voice acting and the syntax/diction/phrasing used in the writing, but voice alone does not cover why I find his character so utterly enthralling and fantastic.

I wrote a short piece consisting of Eris telling Ikora what she sees in him in my story Finders Keepers. It's basically a personality analysis and some people have (I think probably accurately) accused it of being a love letter to that character. (Reminder: that link is fanfiction - I wrote it - it is not lore, but it is based on lore. However, everything else I list after this is actual lore.)

But, personality aside, ultimately the Drifter's story is what I find most compelling about him and makes him so empathetic. You mentioned you've read A Man with No Name, but there's more. A lot more.

To start, the Drifter is D2's most violent pacifist.

He doesn't want to fight and when he does, it's vicious. The Emissary of the Nine, formerly Orin (his ex-best friend and/or ex-lover, depending upon how you read it) aptly says "He hates violence. He hates it so much he'll murder anyone who tries to inflict it on him."

In A Man with No Name, we see him go from hiding in a town and having it obliterated by warlords, to running a bar at the bottom of Felwinter peak, to getting Lord Felwinter himself to avenge the town. Drifter doesn't fight anywhere in there and gets other people to do his fighting for him, which is a pretty standard tactic for him. And yes, it is strongly implied that Felwinter does indeed murder the fuck out of Lord Dryden when he says "Call Lord Dryden. Prepare my Iron Banner arsenal."

But then we get Dark Age Drifter entries where he's gunning down Fallen attackers with quotes like "He had never brought himself to shoot a human. Or anything even resembling a human. Risen included." (Bonus mention: notice "Alright" repeated here and compare to his standard Gambit opening of Alright, alright, alright...") Where he's slipping away from non-violence, specifying, in particular, that he won't shoot a human but will defend himself from aliens.

And then he becomes something else entirely in these amazing entries with what I've been calling his Breakneck crew:

Now Otto's a Sword man. He's all about "craft." Technique. Precision. It's disgusting, but I don't care how he does it, as long as it gets done, so I just let him do it. And Otto does it so beautifully that, when he's done, you're standing there holding your guts in your hands and thanking him for the show.

Never touches a gun, that girl. She likes to get close. Likes to look right in their eyes and be the last thing they see.

The chumps that run out to stop us are babies. That's the kicker with Warlords—other than ours, there's not a Ghost in sight here. Just civilians who can barely hold their guns without wetting their pants, who can't aim worth a damn, who stick their necks out for the bad guys with eternal life. Real geniuses.

Cenric stood up. That vein of his looked about ready to pop. Drifter let his feet down as he reached for his rifle, asp-quick. "And you know what we do with rats, don't you, brother."

And the thing I love about this is the character development this speaks to where he goes from pacifist who won't fight at all... to someone who will use a machine gun competently, repeating "Alright" and getting himself used to killing, but not humans, never humans... to stone cold vicious murder-Drifter talking about the lightless who die to his crew in ways that make them (and himself) seem no longer human, to gunning down his own crew, people he felt were a perfect team, when they make deals with warlords behind his back and lie to him about it.

The Drifter started out adhering to an ideal of nonviolence and it destroyed him and everyone he cared for. His sense of self, his principles, everything he believed in is eroded until he completely loses all hope and in order to survive the cruelty of the world he lives in he becomes a ruthless monster.

Either before or after his Breakneck-era crew (it's not clear), the Drifter (under the name Eli) joins the Pilgrim Guard, a group of Titans protecting lightless people as they travel to the Last City. He does this out of a desire/need to be near Orin, a Titan with a complicated past and strong ties to both Queen Mara and the Nine. But then after spending time with Eli/Drifter and the Pilgrim Guard, Orin, the one person Drifter's ever had a deep human connection with, the person he considers his best friend, leaves without a word.

It's very telling that the green snakes, the jade coin, and the red string on those same coins that form such profound parts of the Drifter's symbolism and identity all come from Orin. When the Drifter truly cares for someone, he incorporates part of them into himself, into his identity, making them part of who he becomes, so they live on inside of him.

After his time with Orin, we get into the extremely confusing, contradictory mess that is the Drifter's intersection with Shin Malfur-related Rose/Thorn/Lumina lore. And by this I mean that the Drifter, after fighting alongside people doing genuinely noble good work, in the wake of losing Orin, leaves the Pilgrim Guard and eventually ends up joining the evil cult of evil: following in the footsteps of one of the most reviled risen to ever exist - the guardian-killer: Dredgen Yor.

If you're gonna hang with me, you need to know about the Shadows of Yor. They follow the edicts of a very bad man named Dredgen Yor. And what're his Shadows after? Everything the Light can't provide. I thought they could help me find an answer to the battles of Light versus Light that raged during the Dark Age. But the longer I flew with them, the more I saw they're blind as all those who follow the Traveler. One albatross for another. I was done with 'em.

And while in the cult, in some sort of ritual, he communes with the Darkness directly and gets some sort of Darkness powers (possibly Stasis, possibly something else - it's super unclear) and the Darkness whispers to him his Dredgen name: Dredgen Hope, which is particularly brutal in context with this quote from Dredgen Yor himself:

I care only to give hope to the frightened, huddled masses so that when I come upon them they will have more to lose. Their pain will be greater. Their screams more pure… Nothing dies like hope. I cherish it.

But it is also particularly pointed because hope is the thing the Drifter doesn't have. Trust is the thing he doesn't have the ability to do any more because of his experiences (and is also the name of the hand cannon he wears shoved into his pants). He is the most jaded (literally - constantly fidgeting with a jade coin) character in the D2 universe. He loses everything and leans in on it and follows that path to full evil.

And then he walks away. Because evil doesn't work for him either.

But also (either before or after he's completely left the cult - it's ambiguous, but possibly when he's still entangled but it's already fracturing and falling apart) he finds Orin again (he's using the name Wu Ming at this point - either having returned to it, or because he hasn't changed it yet from Felwinter Peak, or perhaps this happens before Felwinter Peak - the order and timeline is somewhat fuzzy).

Orin does not remember who he is when he finds her the second time (she's pretty nuts at this point - her story is filled with madness and tragedy), and is going insane with grief over losing Namqi (the person she left with when she disappeared the first time) as well as her obsession with the Nine. And the Drifter is once more drawn to her and once more connects deeply with her:

Wu Ming leaves his questions by the wayside as he is drawn inexorably into the gravity well of her desperate honesty. Her confessions lower his defenses. He talks of himself. Of his fear. Of his loneliness. How he feels he is one fingernail away from plummeting into an abyss. How he feels vicious resentment every time he is brought back from the dead: He never asked for the gift of the Light... They make excuse after excuse to meet again. Every conversation is colored by excavated truths; every day they feel they will reach some bedrock that will break them to pieces. It is as frightening as it is intoxicating.

But then Orin finds out about him being a Dredgen, terminates their relationship, goes off to become the Emissary of the Nine and, as someone I was talking with once referred to it: 'it was a breakup so bad he had to leave the solar system.'

Things go very poorly the first time the Drifter loses Orin but the second time is far worse. He has a full-on Lovecraftian 'At the Mountains of Madness' style horror-movie-plot experience with a crew he calls his 'best friends' (which may or may not be all ex-Dredgens but there's at least evidence they might be) out on a frozen planet being stalked and driven to insane levels of paranoia by Darkness creatures able to snuff out their light:

I think I mentioned we're all raving psychos at this point. Well, we did what all measured raving psychos would do. We thought we each had been betrayed by the others. We drew on each other.

The Drifter kills them all to keep them from killing him (at least, that's what he says - no one else is alive to argue). Then his ghost, who up until now has been kind of a moralistic asshole, suggests he hunt down the ghosts of his former crew and Frankenstein them together in order to survive:

And the craziest thing happened. My Ghost snapped... But we would need parts. Ghost parts. And we knew where we could get some... The Ghosts of my former crew all fled as soon as their charges hit the dirt. So me'n mine, we hunted them... "Hey. There's always hope. For what it's worth, I'm proud of you." It was the last thing my Ghost ever said, and the last lie it ever told.

The Drifter's ghost is rendered mute from the experience (either mechanically or due to the trauma of hunting down and murdering other ghosts - it's not clear) but the plan works, they survive, and the Drifter builds the Derelict out of scrap, returning to the Tower where he sets up Gambit.

It's super unclear (again, the Shin-related lore is just a mess and deliberately confusing) but it turns out that Drifter going on about how the Man with the Golden Gun is out to get him is actually a deal he made with Shin to set up Gambit (because, spoiler: the leader of the entire Dredgen cult, Dredgen Vale, turns out to be none other than Shin Malphur, the Man with the Golden Gun, who hunts Dredgens and who the Drifter has been saying is out to get him this entire time) to draw out the truly Darkness-corrupted guardians so Shin can kill them. (And this is ultimately why the Vanguard lets him run a fighting ring in the basement - because Shin convinces them it will help find the truly bad guardians so they can be eliminated).

If you find that confusing, that's because it is. Anything to do with Shin Malphur/Dredgen Yor/Rose/Thorn/Lumnia is pretty much an acid-trip, continuity-wise. It hurts my brain.

As for where the Drifter gets the weapons he gives us for Gambit? To the surprise of no one, he's stealing them. Because of course he is. It's him.

While running Gambit, he ends up visited by the Emissary of the Nine (formerly Orin - same body, different person) and has the Haul attached to the Derelict as a 'gift' in this amazing cutscene: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wFtmr___dSw

And he pretty much stays in "shifty morally ambiguous guy in the basement" mode until Arrivals when the pyramids show up on Io and we get one of my favourite lore tabs in all of D2: Whispering slab.

The two sit. They speak. They listen. Linkages forged in Light and Dark of traded secrets as the Derelict hangs in orbit around the Earth. Pacts are made. Soon, there is only the silence of knowing left between them.

"Next time you fly over the Moon, dust your boots. Tracking that crap all over my floors."

Both of the Drifter's deep emotional entanglements with Orin happen when he really genuinely talks to her, and now in Whispering Slab, he's genuinely talking to someone else, plus we get the origin of why he calls that someone else Moondust.

Then, during Arrivals, we get the amazing banter between him and Eris, and in Beyond Light they learn to control Stasis together with the result being (in my highly subjective opinion) the best cutscene in all of D2 : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IQAB-sSi6P0

At the end of Haunted we get Eris' message to him about healing and finding joy , he has this line in Plunder "What we do now matters more than who we were", we end up with the Kept Confidence lore tab during Season of the Witch where the person who previously insisted he trusted no one now is saying: "He didn't trust them. He trusted her" and then in the Gloaming Journeyer tab, he pulls her into a hug and reminds her of what she told him once (in the Prophesy dungeon dialogue): "That we'll live in the night if we have to. We do it for what comes after." (What comes after is dawn, hope, the continuance of existence after the darkest point.)

Someone in a chat I was in once summed up the core dynamic of the Drifter and Eris' relationship perfectly as "He gives her trust. She gives him hope."

There are people online who are very frustrated with the Drifter's character development, feeling that the Drifter has 'had his teeth filed off' and that he 'got his depression cured by getting a goth girlfriend' but I feel that's just people who don't like change. The Drifter has, throughout his entire storyline been constantly changing who he is. Change is part of his many self-constructed identities which he re-creates over and over as his old sense of self is destroyed and remade. Gritty vicious Drifter is still in there and he will be just as brutal as ever if he needs to be.

He doesn't want to be, though. He never has. And as someone who deals with medical-grade depression and who found themselves in a situation where they needed to reconstruct a sense of self to replace the one that was lost, the Drifter finding a way to hope and trust again after all he's been through is an extremely powerful and poignant narrative which speaks to me on many levels.

It's not trite, thoughtless happy fluffy rainbows, friendship-fixes-everything-whee! It's painful and slow and beautiful as the Drifter learns to have healthy relationships with other people. We need stories like this to speak to us at an unconscious level and tell us that even if you're not Eris Morn and you failed, and you gave up, and you didn't make it out of the Hellmouth, and you in fact gave in to despair and completely lost all hope, your experience erasing who it was you were and having that old you replaced with someone else, you can still find hope again. Even if you've been burned so severely by so many, many, negative human interactions that you cannot trust anyone, if you find the right people, you can slowly learn how to trust again.

The Drifter's story has been called a redemption arc, and I guess in a way it is that too but, for me, the essential quality of the Drifter's narrative isn't redemption: it's healing.

Stories have power. We incorporate them into who we are. Dredgen Hope ultimately does live up to his name. Within D2 he is finally starting to heal. I find that idea, of healing in spite of being so altered by one's experiences as to have had to become an entirely different person in order to survive, of being unable to trust and still finding a way to learn how to trust again, to be important and beautiful to have in my subconscious as something to draw from. It is a story that is very much needed by a lot of people. We need to be reminded that we can be irrevocably changed and have everything taken from us and still find a way to trust and hope and love again. That might seem a bit much for a shooty game, but I maintain this is why D2 has some of the best storytelling of any game I've ever played and that the character of the Drifter is a huge part of what makes that storytelling so compelling.

Sorry this took so long to answer. This seriously was as short as I could make it and still say everything that I felt needed to be said. There's more, and more detail, of course, but this is my treatise on why the Drifter is as awesome as I think he is.

That is all.

#the drifter #destiny 2 #ask me more things!#lore dump of doom #damn this was long #but so is drifter's life - dude is one of if not the oldest one!#drifteris #eris morn #drifter/eris #the drifter/eris morn

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