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#so I was like whatever I’ll go and I even bought her and her man a couples gift EVEN THO I DONT KNOW HIM and clearly don’t know her
getting-messi · 11 months
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:(
#so I haven’t been on Instagram since that day I mentioned I’d stop#but I was on Snapchat and this girl that I was super close with was posting a bunch of stuff cause it’s her bday#after years of wishing her a happy bday publicly and getting her gifts and her not even sending me a message on mine or even remembering -#I stopped going out of my way for her since she has given me no energy back#but anyways it’s her bday today and a bunch of people were posting her#and what’s crazy is that she got married recently but she didn’t even tell me when she got engaged I had to find out through someone’s story#and then she had the audacity to just send me a link of an invite to her bridal shower and I was like……I thought we were friends?#like I just don’t know I don’t care that she didn’t tell me she was talking to a guy but she didn’t tell me about her engagement#had a party to celebrate and didn’t invite me to that either#and then barely acknowledged my existence to send me ONLY A LINK to her bridal shower? cause she wanted gifts that’s all#so I was like whatever I’ll go and I even bought her and her man a couples gift EVEN THO I DONT KNOW HIM and clearly don’t know her#but it was a big winter storm so she had to cancel and said she’d let us know when she reschedules#she didn’t bother rescheduling and had the wedding last month#and now on her bday I’m seeing everyone post pics from the wedding and I’m like……#ouch#she couldn’t even invite me to her a wedding#it just feels like a slap to a face#I’m really in my feels recently about not having a single friend#and it’s like I still have her dumb gifts because I couldn’t return it#and it’s like okay people lose touch with each other but every single one of my ‘old friends’ cut me off so harshly#I have way more stories about the other ones#like I truly PRAY that I could just have A SINGLE good friend that I could text and hang out with#but it gets harder and harder the older I get#I saw a tweet that said stop putting energy in your relationships and see how many last if the other person cares they’ll seek you out#and look at that - I was the only one holding onto flimsy friendships that stopped the moment I stopped putting effort#:(#social media sucks
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some-bunniii · 3 months
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My Charming Red Savior [1]
・❥ You’re harassed by a man following you down the street. Luckily, a rather smiley demon swoops in and claims to be your husband.
| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |
x: no use of y/n. i said this was going to be short and I lied, it’s about 6k words.
warnings: mild swearing
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Warning! Battery at 1%! Device will power down in 3..
You stared down at the phone in your hands as the message lit up on the screen. Eyes widening, you quickly tapped the screen, trying to bypass the pop-up and get another glimpse at the digital map you were using. 
2…
“Hold on now! Just let me see where I'm going, please!” You begged the small device, your grip tightening around it as you tried to figure out what direction you needed to go. 
1..
You peered around the small pop-up. Okay.. Pete Ave was that way, which meant you needed to take a right after the stoplight and go-
Device powering down! Have a nice day :) 
“Damnit!” You growled as the screen flashed once, and then faded to black. You squeezed your eyes shut, face lifted to the sky as you took a deep breath to center yourself.
“Move it, won’t ya?” A demon woman chastised as she hurried around you. Lowering your head, you realized you were standing in the middle of the sidewalk, your spot interrupting the flow of pedestrian traffic. Quickly, you backpedaled until your back hit a brick wall of a building. 
It was getting late in Pentagram City, and that meant you needed to hurry to get to your friend's place before the worst inhabitants of Hell came crawling out. 
She had just gotten married and moved into a rather quaint little home, and you were very happy for her. You had not seen it yet, just in pictures she had shown you on her phone and the one time you drove past it.
“Oh, pleaseeee won’t you come over tonight? I can’t wait to show you all the renovations we’ve done! It looks so much better since we bought it.” She had begged over the phone that afternoon. 
You had stood there, your nails clicking against the countertop in your kitchen as you thought. You had nothing important going on, just some light cleaning and shopping. What was the harm in going over there and visiting? 
“Okay, sure. Yeah, I can come over.” You finally spoke.
“Ahh! I’m so excited, we’ll have a big dinner and everything. I can even rent a movie for us to watch, what are you into again? Those sappy romance flicks?”
“Whatever you want to watch, it’s your milestone we’re celebrating. I’m not the one picking.” 
“Geez, you know how hard it is for me to decide things like that! But, i’ll do it. Oh! Before I forget, could you stop by the store on your way and get some Cajun seasoning? It’s for the meal!” 
“Of course. I’ll see you soon.” You had told her, before hanging up. Eyes moving to the clock, you realized you two hours before needing to arrive. Which meant you had to get moving on those dishes and errands. 
It didn’t take long before you were out the door. Wearing a nice outfit and new shoes, you strolled down the street. The digital map on your phone guiding you across the city as you moved.
Being so close to the city center, you didn’t have a personal vehicle. Instead, you took public transport all the way past the Entertainment District, your eyes gazing up at the rather tall VoxTek building as the bus sped by. 
You didn’t know much about the Vees, other than they were very powerful Overlords with a lot of influence in the media industry. In fact, you didn’t know much about Overlords at all. Were they nasty demons? They must be, if they bartered in souls.
But there had to be better ones, right? You knew of the cannibal, Rosie, and despite her, well.. dietary choices, she seemed to be a rather motherly and courteous demon. In such a way that the residents of Cannibal Town held very high regards for her, which proved her ability to lead in a just manner. She couldn’t be the only one with a more ethical moral code.
Your mind lingered on that train of thought, before you were pulled back into reality by the bus driver’s call for your stop. Quickly, you had hurried out of the vehicle, before continuing your directed path forward.
You arrived at the large storefront, a cozy cottage-like building that whispered of deliciousness as the scents of spices and other meal-making goods wafted through the open door. 
Taking a step inside, you quickly darted through the aisles, searching for the Cajun seasoning. What was your friend making tonight? You weren’t too familiar with these kinds of ingredients. Hopefully, it was going to be tasty.
When you found it, you turned it in your hands, inspecting the product. Yep, you’ve never seen this before in your life. 
After paying for the item, you quickly departed. Your next destination set on your phone.. but not for long.
Just a few more blocks, and you’d have been welcomed by the two love-birds with open arms. A nice, hot meal and a good movie to finish the night. 
Except, how were you supposed to get there now?!
Your phone was useless, and the digital displays around you showed nothing but advertisements and the latest news. 
Frantically, you looked around for any familiar landmarks, hoping to rely on your memory to guide you. But the streets of Pentagram City, with their twisting alleys and repetitive buildings, all looked eerily similar in the dimming red light of dusk.
Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you tried to recall the route from memory. Pete Avenue, right after the stoplight, then… was it a left or a right at the next intersection? You berated yourself for not doing a better job at memorizing the way before you left.
Turning, you raised a fist at the VoxTek HQ building, cursing them for your suffering. Stupid technology and their shitty battery life.
Slowly, you started walking again. Past the neon signs beckoning you to take a glance at what they had to offer, past the girls on the corner who were calling out to you to come have a ‘good time’.
Sometimes, you wished you had someone else to lend a hand at times like these. But, your heart and your home were unimaginably lonely when it came to a romantic partner. It was something that others around you couldn’t stop pestering you about.
“You really need to get out more,” another friend of yours had said one day, while you two dined at a cafe, “there’s this new dating app, called ‘Ozzie’s Love Link’. Everybody is buzzing about it. You should totally give it a whirl!” 
You had rolled your eyes at her suggestion, a dating app? Those things were practically a fraud. The demons on there either wanted sex, or their idea of a relationship was twisted and foul. You even had heard stories of people playing into sick traps of the perfect first meet, only to be murdered and left in an alley to rot.
“I want something real, not some.. temporary escape. Have you ever met anyone that’s actually found ‘The One’ through one of those things? And, who knows, maybe the demon of my dreams will just walk right into me one day.” 
She had laughed at your words, holding a hand to her mouth to contain her giggles.
“Oh, you. You’re still hanging on to those silly stories of a Prince Charming, hm? C’mon now, this is the real world. Nobody is going to swoop in and save you, and then fall hopelessly in love with you. That's a fairy tale. You need to put in the effort.”
You shrugged. Maybe, she was right. Maybe, those stories you had digested were just fairy tales, meant to enrapture you with promises of the perfect life. You were in Hell, after all.
‘She just doesn’t understand,’ you reminded yourself, ‘all her relationships have been toxic. She doesn’t know any better.’
You weren’t going to let her judgments get to you, you could live your life however you wanted, with whatever dreams you chose.
As you walked down the bustling streets, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. It was as if unseen eyes followed your every move, sending shivers down your spine. 
‘Stop freaking out,’ you told yourself, ‘it’s just your imagination, there’s people all around you. They have their own lives, they’re not watching you.’
Nearing the curb to an intersection, you glanced up at the street sign. Pete Avenue, finally. Now, think. Left? 
Looking left, you peer down the rows of strip clubs and bars. The crowds only got bigger from there, and there seemed to be no residential streets. You turned your head to the right, and it began to branch out into more domesticated buildings and neighborhoods. The farther your gaze traveled, the quieter the sidewalks became.
So, right it is. 
You turned the corner of the block and kept moving, your pace quickening as you checked a large digital clock on the side of a building. It was getting closer to the time you had promised to be there.
But, now where were you supposed to go? You turned your head, until your gaze landed on a small imp standing near an alley, a cigarette between his lips. 
Walking forward, you raised your hand up in greeting. “Excuse me, do you know where Magdalene Drive is, by any chance? I’ve just gotten a little turned around and would greatly appreciate some guidance.” 
The imp regarded you for a moment, his eyes squinted in thought. He pulled the cigarette from his lips, and exhaled a large breath. A plume of gray smoke vented from his lips, and he coughed harshly.
“Yeah, I do. You see that big statue over there?” He pointed to your left, the cigarette hanging between his fingers.
Turning your head, you leaned slightly backwards. Off in the distance, a large marble statue depicting an unknown owl demon practically glowed against the darker backdrop. It seemed to hold resemblance to an Ars Goetia family member, but you couldn’t put a finger on who. 
“Right when you pass it, take a left. Go two blocks straight, then take another left. One more block, and another right, and you’re on Magdalene Drive.” 
Jeez, that was a lot of directions thrown at you in one sitting. Not wanting to pester the man any further, you waved a thanks and walked away.
How far have you come, exactly? You turned your head behind you, looking down the sidewalk of where you had just come from. Something flickered in your peripheral vision, a dark figure skirting from your gaze. Was someone watching you? 
You shook your head. No, it’s just your imagination. Keep moving.
Slowly, you turned back and started walking. The sidewalks were practically empty now, the glow from the street lamps above you illuminating your path as you strolled up the large statue. 
Twisting your head to get a better look at it, your gaze skimmed across the royal figure. The owl-demon was staring up at the sky, one arm raised with what seemed to be a ball of energy in his grasp. Swirls of gold marble laced the pearly white sphere. He was holding up, like it was an offering to Heaven. 
Maybe, you’d come back later and take a look at the plaque below the statue. There had to be some significance, although you didn’t see yourself as a master of the fine-arts to te-
Crunch
What was that? That sounded like someone crushing a twig beneath their feet. You twisted to face behind you, and saw nothing once more. 
‘Alright, this is getting a little freaky.’
You weren’t going to stop now though, you didn’t want any potential onlookers seeing you stalking the perimeter like a weirdo simply because your paranoia was having you hallucinate things.
Keeping your pace, you took a sharp left on the corner and continued down. How many blocks did that guy say? Two, if you could recall correctly.
That’s how many blocks you traveled, before stopping in your tracks. Which way did he say to go? Right? Left? 
You rubbed your face with a hand, why did you suck so badly with directions?! If only you had charged your phone before you left, you wouldn’t be in this predicament. 
Turning your head, you tried to figure out which way could be the correct one. There was nothing, though. It didn’t remind you of anything you’d seen when you had driven past her house. 
“Hey, you lost?” A gravelly voice came from behind you. Eyes widened, you spun on your heel to face the stranger. He was tall, much taller than you. He sported scars running across his face, one eye half-lidded permanently from some kind of nasty wound. 
He sported a dark leather jacket, with a thin sweater underneath. His hoodie was up, masking most of his features like a shadow. His skin was a dark red, and his eyes were a pale yellow. He seemed to be a Succubus demon, being too large for an imp.
There was no kindness in his tone or in his smile. Your brain screamed danger, you needed to get away from him. Quickly, you shook your head, trying to give him a well-meaning smile. 
“No, i’m not! I’m just uhh- waiting for someone, they’ll be here soon anyway.” 
“People that aren’t lost usually don’t ask strangers on the street for directions,” he chuckled darkly, “why don’t you tell me where you’re trying to go? I can give you a lift.” 
As he closed in, you could smell the bitter taste of alcohol on his breath. You had to steel yourself not to recoil at his looming figure. Widening your smile, you attempted to not display any fear as he got closer.
“No, thank you. I would hate to bother you, my.. partner should be here soon, so you can continue on with your day!” 
“Don’t you know this place ain’t safe for sweet dolls like you to be roaming alone? C’mon, let me take you to where i’m parked, i’m sure you’ll enjoy my company.”
You quickly stepped backwards, trying to widen the distance from this creep. It wasn’t until your back hit the wall of an abandoned storefront, did you realize you were trapped. 
“I said no. I’m not some damsel in distress. Now, if you can excuse me, I need to keep going before it gets too late.” 
You turned away from him, trying to break any kind of contact with the demon. Maybe if you kept your cool, he’d abandon his little mission.
That was until you felt his hand snake around your wrist, his grip tightening and pulling you to face him. In your state of shock, you dropped the bag containing the Cajun seasoning. You tried to tug your wrist free, but his yellow nails were practically digging into your skin, preventing your escape.
“What’s the rush, Doll? Scared i’m gonna bite or something? Don’t worry, I ain’t gonna harm you. I just want to show you a good time.”
Your eyes narrowed, gaze heated at the stranger. You frowned, glimpsing at his hand on your wrist in disgust.
“What are you doing? I don’t want anything to do with you, now let go of m-!” 
“There you are, my dear!” A masculine voice exclaimed next to you. You felt the creep’s grip on your wrist loosen suddenly. His hand yanked away by another, and your gaze traced the light touch of unknown dark-red fingers gently taking your hand instead.
You snapped your head to the unfamiliar voice, taking in the sight of a second demon standing right besides you, a large grin on his face. He was tall, and he stood a little bit higher than the creep in front of you. His hair was styled in a cropped, angled bob, with an odd pinkish-red shade. Two small antlers protruded from the top of his head, and were those.. ears next to them too?
He was dressed rather formally, with a red pin-stripe coat adorned with a large black bow-tie. Over his right eye, you took note of the small oval-shaped monocle. He held a cane, with an odd looking end. The small oval in the center of it reminded you of an eye. He looked very dapper, like he was from a much older era. 
His gaze was soft, as he looked at you. It wasn’t until his eyes snapped to the stranger in front did they take on a cold, dark glare. That smile never faltered, though. 
Who was this guy? Why was he touching you? You felt the need to tear your hand from his grip as well.
Except, when he turned back to you, his eyes sent you a hidden message. Something like, ‘Go along with it, if you want to get rid of him.’
Seeing as you were stuck between two strange demons, with no idea what this new guy had in store for you, maybe it was a good idea to follow his silent command. Your hand went limp in his grip, and the deer demon raised it to his chest, patting it lovingly.
“Goodness, I leave for ten minutes to go pick up your favorite herbal tea and poof, gone! You are a slippery one, my sweet.” Static dripped from his voice, seemingly connected to the cane at his side. Was it some kind of microphone?
“Who are you?” The stalker questioned, backing up a step as he regarded the new face.
The red demon laughed, an audible ‘ha ha’, as if the creep just told a rather good joke. He extended his free hand in greeting, and the succubus only eyed the gesture with suspicion.
“The name is Alastor! Pleasure to be meeting you, sir, quite a pleasure. It’s rare for people these days to not recognize my face, although i’m sure it’ll become familiar soon enough.” 
That ‘soon enough’ sounded quite ominous to you. And, was he some kind of celebrity or something? You didn’t remember him from anywhere. 
“Well, do you mind? Me and the lady were in the middle of a conversation.” The succubus retorted, a slight growl in his tone. 
“The better question is, do you mind, my good sir! Here I am, searching for my dear wife, only to see you bothering her on the corner!” 
Wait a second, did this guy just call you his wife? You stood there, shocked, as you listened to the two bicker. Never would you think you’d hear that uttered from a man. 
“Not only that, but touching her without her consent? My word, what degenerate behavior!” The demon, Alastor, continued. He shook his head in disapproval, an audible tsk-tsk coming from his lips.
“There was no harm in it, we were only having some fun. Ain’t that right, Doll?” The stalker turned to you, fire in his gaze as if daring you to speak.
You shook your head, your gaze snapping to Alastor. He watched you for a moment, before turning his attention back to the succubus.
“It seems your mother neglected to instill in you even a modicum of respect. If my wife weren’t here to witness, I'd be more than obligated to educate you on proper decorum.”
Something flickered in the creep’s eyes, and for a moment he looked almost afraid. After a moment, He sneered, eyeing you up and down. "I don't see a ring on her finger."
Alastor smirked, and gently lifted your hand forward for the demon to get a look at. His grin was that of triumph, as though he was showcasing a prized possession. 
Your eyes widened at the sight, a gasp almost escaping your lips. On your finger, was a small gold ring. It was snuggled nicely around your digit, a perfect fit. 
The Succubus leaned in, and so did you. Where the hell did that come from? That was not there a few minutes ago! 
On closer inspection, you noticed something about the small band. Engraved in a tiny rose-gold font, was a single letter.
A.
"There, now do you see?" Alastor's grin widened, his demeanor playful yet menacing. His eyes narrowed, as he waited for the demon's response. You felt the air crackle with some kind of energy, it was dark and cold. The hair on the back of your neck began to stand on its end, like static. Which one of the demons was doing that?
The stalker’s expression shifted from arrogance to confusion, then to frustration. He furrowed his brow, studying the ring intently as if searching for some kind of flaw.
Was he going to try and argue? The proof was there, albeit fabricated. Alastor dropped your hand, and instead snaked his arm around yours, locking you in place. 
There was no argument didn’t, instead, the succubus took another step back. The demon straightened himself and shrugged, like the scene before him was not a bother, like his filthy plan wasn’t thwarted by the appearance of the powerful deer man. 
“Whatever, I ain’t got time for this anyway. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Lovebirds.”
As the man turned away, Alastor’s grin widened as he nodded his head. “Farewell, and may your endeavors be as futile as your manners!”
He turned to you, that dark look gone from his eyes as he gently tugged at your arm, still laced with his. “Now, my dear, shall we continue on our evening stroll?” 
You nodded slowly, and together, the two of you turned away from the creep and began to walk. You had only made it a few steps before you heard the soft knocking of Alastor’s staff hitting the cement walkway. What was he doing?
Behind you, a strangled cry filled the silence, before a loud thump hit your ears. You jolted at the sound, did something just happen? It sounded like someone got hurt! 
Right as you were about to turn your head to look at where the noises had emanated from, Alastor’s head snapped to you and you felt another gentle tug on your arm to turn your attention back to him.
You looked up at him, a smile forming on your lips as your nerves settled. “Thank you, for saving me, kind sir. I could have been a goner.” 
“It was no trouble at all my dear, and please, call me Alastor. I was simply in the neighborhood and couldn’t just stand by and let that rapscallion manhandle you like that! Now, where are we off to, if I might ask?” 
“Oh, well, Magdalene Drive! It’s a house right at the end of a street, my friend's place actually. She’s expecting me for dinner, that’s why I have this bag of…”
You became suddenly aware of the empty feeling in your hand. Did you forget to pick up the seasoning after you dropped it?! You groaned internally, your head hung in defeat. After all that, you didn’t have the one item you had taken this route to get. 
Alastor raised an eyebrow at your reaction, and you quickly explained, “I needed to get Cajun seasoning for the meal they are making, but I dropped it when that.. man was harassing me! I’m terribly sorry, I have to go back and get it.” 
Alastor only smiled, as usual, and shook his head. He waved his hand in a sweeping motion, brushing off your attempt to turn around.
“Nonsense! We don’t need to bother that poor soul any longer. Here, let me give you one from my personal collection!” 
He lifted his free hand, and snapped his fingers. In a flicker of green light, a small spice jar landed in his palm. Your eyes widened, an amused smile gracing your lips as you watched the little trick. That was pretty cool. Was that the same kind of magic he used to secretly place the ring on your finger? 
“Here you are! The best Cajun seasoning you can find in Pentagram City, my personal favorite. I was going to use it for something special, but it seems you are in need of it more than I.”
He lifted his hand toward you, and you took it gratefully. Lifting it to your nose, you inhaled deeply. It was an odd scent, one you couldn’t quite place, but it smelled quite delicious.
“Not many dishes require such flavoring, what is the meal you are having tonight?”
You shrugged, “I'm not really sure, to be honest. She didn’t say.” 
“Hm, a pity. Have you ever tried Jambalaya? It is a rather magnificent dish, my personal favorite actually! My mother was quite the cook, indeed, and her craft would never miss when producing such delicacies.”
“No, I've never tried it before. What does it taste like?”
“It is hard to put a description on it. It’s almost like.. fireworkings popping off in your mouth! Ha ha, that is a good way to put it. You really must try it sometime.” 
You smiled at Alastor as you listened to his words. Perhaps, you would.
“What got you into this pickle, anyway? Surely you didn’t actually feel like taking a stroll so late in the evening, hm?” He questioned as the two of you continued your pace, “a pretty face like yours will cause quite the stir amongst the filthy rats that like to inhabit this place.”
“Oh, well, I was using my phone for directions. It died on the way here, unfortunately I'm not familiar with this area and couldn’t find my way forward.”
His words finally processed in your brain. Did he just call you pretty? You didn’t get to think about that for much longer as his static-laced voice filled the air once more.
“Ah, of course. This new.. modern technology is nothing short of a fraud, if I do say. What ever happened to the old fashioned paper map? If it were up to me, we wouldn’t be so reliant on such faulty equipment.”
“Is that what your staff is? It looks like a microphone.” You said, pointing to the cane in his other hand.
Alastor glanced down to his cane, and then back to you. “Aha, a clever one indeed! Yes, my dear, I use it for my radio broadcasts!”
You perked at that. Radio? You had one of your own at home. Although it was quite dusty, you did occasionally turn it on to see what latest hits were circling around in the music industry.
“You do radio? That’s actually kind of interesting! Do you have a big audience?”
“Yes, indeed! Back when I was at my highest with it, I had many listeners. Unfortunately, my absence from Pentagram City has led to other forms taking the spotlight. I plan on rectifying that once I've settled in. Perhaps, you could listen in as well to see what I have to offer?”
You nodded at that, perhaps, you would listen in. He had a nice, pleasant voice. It felt like you could sit there for hours and just listen to him speak. Even if the words that came from his mouth was nothing but gibberish, you’d still let his voice drown out your thoughts.
“What about you?” The static dripping from his voice causes you to turn your head, “what do you do for a living?” 
“Oh, well, I work at a men’s formalwear store. So, like tuxedos, dress shirts, and all that jazz. I help assist with fittings and greet guests, basically the doorgirl. Nothing too important.” 
His ears perked slightly as he listened, and he turned his head to you. “Well, isn’t that interesting! Just recently, I had an awfully rude encounter with another demon, who had torn a piece of my suit. That slippery little serpent got away before I could.. question him about his antics.” 
“That’s awful! Who was it?” 
Alastor chuckled, rolling his eyes as he recalled the event. “Oh, nobody of importance, I assure you. Just some pretentious upstart fancying himself as an Overlord, with a knack for building rather ghastly creations of destruction. Since that encounter, I've been in the market for a fresh look. If a place of formal employs such splendid characters like you, I think it would be in my best interest to take a look in your establishment for a new coat”
Your eyes widened, he wanted to buy a new suit at your work because.. you were there? How charming.
Taking another glance at him, you realized he was rather good-looking. His red hair popped out against his much paler skin, it shined against the streetlights above. It looked rather silky and smooth, like you could comb them with your fingers and not find a single knot. 
And those ears? They were pretty cute, actually. They stuck up from his head, and every so often they would twitch or shrivel in the direction of sudden noises. They seemed so soft too, would they feel as good as they looked if you were to squish them between your fingers?
He was a well-mannered gentleman, a pretty rare specimen in Hell. Not only that, but he stepped in to defend you from that creep when he could have simply walked by. He didn’t, and that made your cheeks heat up. Especially with the fact he called you his wife, instead of something simpler like ‘friend’.
What about when he called you pretty? Did he actually mean that? You never regarded yourself as such, but if Alastor thought that, maybe you cou-
“Is this the house?” Alastor’s words pulled you back into reality. You blinked, before looking up at the pale blue cottage snuggled nicely between two large Victorian homes. The talks you were having must have kept you from noticing the large distance.
“Yes! This is the place!” You exclaimed happily, finally, you were here. You turned to him, before looking down at your arm, still laced with his. Slowly, you pulled your arm free. The cold that replaced his touch was unwelcomed. Which felt odd to you, why did you want him touching you still? 
You had only just met him, but perhaps his way of speaking and heroics swooned you enough to miss the warmth of his grasp. Lifting your head to meet his gaze, you tried to see what he was thinking behind that constant smile. 
His eyes were unreadable, but the cold stare he had given the succubus, and to the other onlookers that you had occasionally passed was missing as he looked at you. There seemed to be a smile in his eyes, one that was meaningful and true.
“Well, I'm glad I could assist you in finding your way home, my dear. I quite enjoyed our chat, it is refreshing to hear from a new face once in a while. Especially one as eloquent as yours.”
You had to keep yourself from visibly blushing. He really was a gentleman in all regards. You bowed your head respectfully, before meeting his gaze again.
“The only reason why I'm here is because of you, Alastor. Thank you, and I do hope to run into you in the future. Our conversation was very interesting, I'd love to hear more of it sometime.”
He tilted his head at you, as he regarded your words. “Indeed, perhaps we will. Maybe, the next time we cross paths, I can give you a glimpse into my mothers recipe of Jambalaya. I’m sure your friend would be interested in trying something new the next time you sit down for dinner.”
You smiled at him, before waving goodbye. Turning towards the door you lightly rapped your knuckles against its wooden frame. It was then that you realized you never properly introduce yourself.
“Oh! I’m sorry, I never got to tell you, my name is-”
The words halted in your mouth, as you found the space in front of you empty. Alastor had vanished, not a single trace of his presence remained.
He was gone already? Damn, that guy moved quickly. Maybe, he was just a hallucination, a dream too good to be true. You stood there for a moment, before closing your mouth in thought.
Suddenly, the front door was flung open and a hand reached out and grasped your top. You turned your head just as you were yanked inside. Before you had time to blink, the door was slammed shut behind you. The window near it was shielded by curtains in seconds.
In front of you, your friend stood there. She was breathing heavily, a hand to her heart as if she just witnessed the scariest thing in her life. She quickly held your shoulders, scanning your body for any injuries.
“Oh my gosh! You’re lucky I pulled you in here quickly,” She exhaled a breath to calm her nerves, “You could have been that guy’s next meal!” 
“What are you talking about?” You asked, an eyebrow raised at her strange demeanor.
“Alastor! The Radio Demon! Y’know, the guy that murdered all those overlords years ago?” 
You raised an eyebrow as her words settled in your head. That demon was the Radio Demon? No way! He was such a gentleman, and rather pleasant too! 
“You’re kidding.” 
“I’m not! I don’t know what happened between the two of you, hopefully not a deal, but you need to stay away from him. He’s nothing but a bad omen!” 
You smiled, shaking your head at her antics. She was just being silly, Alastor saved you from potentially being kidnapped. You doubted he’d lay a finger on you in a harmful manner.
“Well, I brought that seasoning. Why don’t we go take a tour of the place, hm?” You said, pulling her away from the doorway and down the hall.
She nodded, her face lighting up instantly. “Yes, a great idea! I can’t wait to show you the kitchen, we replaced practically everything. The flooring is a beautiful marble tile and…“
She trailed off as her gaze shot to your hand, her eyes widening at the sight. Quickly, she grasped it, and pulled it closer to inspect it. You tensed, what was she doing?
“..what is that on your finger? I didn’t know you wore this kind of jewelry!” 
Following her gaze, you turned your hand slightly to see what she was so enthralled about, and your eyebrows raised in surprise at the sight.
Still perfectly snug on your finger, was that gold ring Alastor had magically placed on you. You assumed that it would have dissolved or vanished when he left, but that small A still glimmered in the overhead light.
“I’ll explain it over dinner.” You simply replied, pulling your hand out of her grip and beginning to walk further into the house. 
Your eyes kept landing on the golden band, though. Alastor not far from your mind as you listened to your friend fill you in on all the renovations. It was quite pretty, and it seemed to look great on you. For a moment, a rather odd thought crossed your mind, causing your cheeks to heat as you lamented over it. 
Would it be so bad if you just.. kept it on? 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
woah, first fic of Alastor! I thought he’d be the perfect guy for this scenario. i wrote the reader as sort of a hopeless romantic bc it’s the complete opposite of al and i thought it was funny
EDIT: Part 2 is coming!!
lmk what you think! :)
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explicit-tae · 4 months
Text
Ungodly Hour (7)
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While having dinner with your family, you begin to see Jungkook in a new light.
Series Masterlist
Word Count: 4.962
Warning: kissing, simp jk, tsundere reader duh, baby fever, shower sex, creampie, fingering, dirty talking, unprotected sex, biting,
“Ah, Y/N.” your mother looks over her shoulder at you, her eyes glazing behind you for a moment. “You’re alone.” she notes matter-of-factly.
You scoff humorlessly. “Jungkook had to visit his family before coming here.” you respond, kicking off your shoes. “He should be here soon.”
You should have known coming here without Jungkook would result in your mother questioning you - curse Jeon Jungkook and his personality that has your mother loving him already.
Your mother makes her way towards you, wrapping you in an embrace. “I’m happy to hear that. I can’t wait to see him again.” she says. 
You roll your eyes.
Deep down, it’s nice knowing that your mother liked Jungkook. Her opinion on whoever you dated is important.
However - this was Jeon Jungkook you’re talking about. Everything he had said has come to life - even from the very beginning. You acknowledging him due to needing streaming services, you and him dating, your mother loving everything about him and to the worst of them all  - you liking him. The man revels in the fact that he was winning whatever challenge you and he had and he wasn’t even doing anything but being himself. 
Fuck Jeon Jungkook. 
“Why didn’t you go with him?” your mother asks when she releases you from her embrace. “Have you met his family already?”
You shake your head, glancing away. 
You didn’t want to admit that you were nervous because you were you - you never got nervous But you were new to this; meeting the family. 
That, and Jungkook didn’t necessarily ask if you wanted to come. “I’ll be having breakfast with my parents.” he said, putting on a jacket. “You can come if you’d like.”
That wasn’t an invitation - and besides, you didn’t want to intrude on a holiday. Jungkook doesn’t see his parents as often as you do yours.
“Think they wouldn’t like you?” your mother murmurs in a low, gossiping tone that you choose to ignore.
You greet your father silently - he was on a business call and appeared utterly miserable doing so. He hated talking, and each day you begin to realize that maybe you took more of his traits as you grew older. 
You and your mother speak as she continues to cook - about anything that the conversation brings. It began with small talk - work and family gossip. She asks how you and Jungkook are and you answer as honestly as you could - she gushes how you appear to be “glowing” and that it’s Jungkook’s doing, but you’d never give a man that much satisfaction.
It was another 20 minutes when Jungkook did arrive. He had knocked softly on the door and you instantly knew it was him. You were ready to retort snarky towards him when you swung the door open, but you stopped in your tracks. 
“Sorry I’m late.” Jungkook speaks, a smile on his lips. The piercing slightly shines in the evening sun. He’s dressed casually, a dark shirt with dark jeans that are ripped at the knees. 
You notice Jungkook’s change immediately - his hair. His once long locks that sat on his shoulders have now been cut - the sides slightly shaved, and the top of his head, though longer than the sides, have but cut, as well. There’s a loose hair that falls slightly on his forehead and you swallow thickly. 
In Jungkook’s hands are flowers - this time bought and not yanked from his neighbor's garden. They’re assorted - lilies, sunflowers, gerberas and more. 
“You’re late because you stopped and grabbed flowers.” you deadpan, opening the door wider. Jungkook steps inside your home and goes to kick off his shoes. “Of course.” he chuckles. “Everytime we go to the bakery besides the flower shop, I notice you look inside.” Jungkook explains.
Jungkook extends his arms to hand you the flowers, a soft look in his eyes. Your stomach begins to churn and your heart thump. “Oh,” you murmur, glancing down at the bouquet of flowers now in your hands. “I didn’t know you noticed that.”
You’re embarrassed - you never knew Jungkook paid attention. It wasn’t anything worth being embarrassed about - flowers are pretty and you’d often admire them whenever you could. You just never knew Jungkook had been observing you do so. 
“Of course I do.” Jungkook responds. He steps closer to you to wrap an arm around your waist to bring you closer to him. He inches his face closer to yours. “I watch you a lot.”
“Stalker.” you retort with a lick of your lips, your eyes darting from his eyes to his lips for a split second - a second that Jungkook catches. 
“I’d prefer admirer.” Jungkook responds right before kissing your lips. “What lipgloss are you wearing? Tastes sweet…” Jungkook kisses you once more, deepening it. 
“It’s,” Jungkook interrupts your speech to kiss you once more. “mango,” and again, Jungkook kisses your lips. “Kook-” Jungkook hums into the next peck of your lips.
You manage to push Jungkook away from you, your body rushing with heat. “You’re so obsessed with me.” you roll your eyes, a smile forming onto your lips.
Jungkook chuckles heartily, embracing you tighter. “I’m your number one fan.” he says. “Just missed you is all.”
Your heart leaps once more - this time at his words. You push yourself away a bit more so you wouldn’t fall into the rabbit hole that was Jeon Jungkook - you were in your parents home and you didn’t need anyone seeing how truly down bad you were for Jungkook when he spoke so nicely to you.
Despicable, you think, a few nice words from Jungkook has you ready to be out of your panties. How far you’ve fallen.
“You cut your hair.” you say to change the subject, eyes darting up to the new cut. Your hand reaches for it, touching the sides with interest. 
“I did.” Jungkook nods, leaning his head into your hand. “You like it?”
You nod slightly, then huff. “It’s alright.” you shrug. You needed to regain your control over the situation - and the overall relationship. You can’t keep falling for Jungkook and his traps.
Jungkook smiles widely. He wouldn’t tell you, but you were the reason he cut it. He recalls you telling him once on a random occasion that he would look nice with a cut you have seen while scrolling on your phone. It was a side comment that you didn’t think he’d take into consideration - and even now, he’s positive that you didn’t even remember. 
“What made you cut it?” you then ask, and Jungkook’s cheeks flushes. “What?” you say, snickering at the look on his face. “Did your little girlfriend suggest it?”
“My little girlfriend?” Jungkook raises a brow, unsure what you were about to say next. 
“Yeah, Sia.” you say teasingly - but your eyes zone in on Jungkook as you wait for a reaction. Jungkook scoffs. “Ah, we’re bringing up the girl that doesn’t cross my mind in the slightest.” he says and it’s the truth. He would forget about Sia entirely if she didn’t attempt - keyword: attempt - to speak with him.
“Just kidding.” you laugh. Your hand drops from his hair to his cheek. “I really do like it.” you murmur to him, a soft moment that you’d allow him to have - just this once.
Jungkook’s smile widens slightly, but there’s a glint in his eyes. “You want to sit on my face so bad, baby.” he murmurs.
“Ugh,” you push Jungkook away. “as if.” You do - and Jungkook knows it, too. But you’d have to deny it until it was time to actually do the deed. 
Jungkook is quick to wrap and arm around your shoulder, bringing you in for a side-ways hug. “We’ll worry about that later.” there’s a quick peck that’s placed on your forehead. “Let me greet my in-laws.”
“You’re not my husband.”
Jungkook doesn’t let up. “Yet.” he says, sending you a wink. 
Your mother is first to greet Jungkook, appearing far too excited to see him than she was seeing you prior. She wraps Jungkook in a hug. “You’re so handsome with your haircut!” she says.
You roll your eyes hard, placing the bouquet of flowers down on the kitchen table.
“Thank you.” Jungkook beams at the compliment. 
“Doesn’t he look handsome, Y/N?” your mother then turns to you.
You glance at Jungkook whose eyes are looking at you along with your mothers. His eyebrows wiggle - he was enjoying this entirely.
“I seen better.”
Your mother gasps at your words and Jungkook only laughs because he knows your true feelings. 
“It’s not like she had a lot of boyfriends. She was always so mean to the opposite sex.” your mother tells Jungkook with a shake of her head. “I don’t know how you deal with her.”
You’re taken aback for a moment, your ears perking at the conversation. 
“Y/N knows she can’t run me away.” Jungkook says to your mother. “I know how to deal with her just fine.”
Your eyes widen slightly at Jungkook’s words, your lips forming into a thin line. You shake your head at Jungkook - you didn’t need him insinuating anything sexual.
“You have to treat him right, Y/N. He’s such a sweetheart!” your mother turns to look at the bouquet of flowers with a huff, trying to rack her brain and remember when was the last time she received one.
“Jungkook’s not going anywhere.” you snort. “Is dinner almost done?”
“Yes!” your mother rounds the corner to go towards the stove. 
“Right.” you turn to Jungkook. “I’m gonna go wash my hands.”
“I will, too.” Jungkook follows close behind you, his eyes glancing around the walls as you walk down the hallway - there’s pictures of you and your brother from different stages of life and some family pictures.
You open the door to the bathroom and venture inside, flicking the light on. “Don’t let my moms words get to your big ass head.”
Jungkook follows behind you, closing the door slightly. You turn on the water and begin washing your hands. “I will. She called me handsome.”
You roll your eyes. “She makes it seem like you’re trapped.”
“Never!” Jungkook wraps his arms around you, his eyes on your reflection in the mirror just as you were finishing drying your hands. “I’m here willingly.” Jungkook’s lips place themselves on the nape of your neck and he kisses it. “You already said it. I’m not going anywhere.”
You bite your lip and turn off the faucet and wave your hands a bit to get the excess water off. You know what Jungkook is doing - you aren’t a fool. Him kissing your neck in this exact spot isn’t something innocent. “My parents are literally in the other room.” you sigh. 
Jungkook now has his arms wrapped around you, him standing directly behind you. One hand holds you in place by your waist while the other roams upwards. He grips your breast teasingly before placing it on your neck. 
“I just want a kiss.” Jungkook responds innocently - and you know it’s all a facade. 
“It always starts with you wanting a kiss.” you grumble. Jungkook’s breath is warm against your neck. “Then it ends with-“
“You sitting on my face. I’m aware.” Jungkook presses another kiss against your neck. “I just want a kiss, Y/N. That’s all. I promise.”
The hand that lays on your neck rises to your chin and gently, Jungkook pushes it to the right. “Just one.” you murmur, your defensive walls crumbling yet again. You curse yourself because of course Jeon fucking Jungkook was winning the battle.  “Then you have to get the fuck off of me.”
Jungkook laughs at your response. “Of course.”
Jungkook connects your glossy lips to his own and lowly, he groans. He was positive he kissed all of the gloss from your lips - but maybe you put more on when he wasn’t looking. 
The hand on your waist tightens and you know just what Jungkook was thinking. 
“That’s enough.” you murmur weakly, but Jungkook only kisses down your jaw to your neck again. 
“Okay.” Jungkook sighs. “You smell so good.” he compliments. “Taste good too…”
“Stop.” you respond firmly. You were a whore for praises - and Jungkook knows this. Even if you would insult him or call him a simp, it wouldn’t faze the man because he knows that deep down, you enjoy it.
“Stop what? Complimenting you?” Jungkook snickers. 
“I know what you’re trying to do.” you argue. “You want to-“
The door to the bathroom - which was never closed to begin with, just cracked - slams open. Immediately, you and Jungkook are startled, jumping away from one another and turning around to see just who had made their presence known.
“Is that your boyfriend?”
Immediately, your shoulders relax at the sight of your niece - for someone so young and only the age of 8, she was a lot to handle. Oftentimes you’d forget that you were the adult in the situation, bickering with her whenever and would be confused to be her older sister when out in public instead of her aunt. 
“Why are you here?”
“Rude.” she murmurs, crossing her arms. “My dad says we’re here to meet your boyfriend.”
Jungkook looks at the small child and instantly, he sees you. He blinks between the two of you, slightly amused at the sight and also afraid to speak.
“How does-” you sigh, already knowing the answer. You’re sure your mother had told him about dinner, invited not only him, but his children - especially his oldest child - to torment you further. “-this is Jungkook.” you sigh, waving lazily. She was going to pry into your life until you gave her what she wanted. 
“Jung…kook…” she says his name, looking up at the taller man. “Okay.”
Jungkook watches as your niece turns away and skips down the hall.
“Wow she’s-” Jungkook begins.
“Annoying?” you snort, turning towards him. 
“I was going to say just like you. So cute.” Jungkook snickers.
Fuck Jeon Jungkook.
There’s something about the way Jungkook looks right now.
Of course, the hair. The cut looks amazing on him and somehow appears even hotter than usual. The tattoos and piercings are always a plus - but that wasn’t it.
Jungkook’s holding your nephew. He’s only one and in the stage that he’s learning how to walk. Your mother and father are chatting amongst each other and your brother and you had just got done having a heated debate about if tomato was a fruit or a vegetable.
Somehow, your niece managed to sit directly beside Jungkook and talk his ear off about everything and nothing at the same time, and the man appeared entirely too intrigued about her meaningless conversation. And with how interested his sister looked with Jungkook, only made your nephew be, as well, crawling over and demanding to be picked up and sat in his lap.
Maybe that was it - the way Jungkook looked holding your nephew. He wasn’t a baby, but he looked smaller than he truly was in Jungkook’s arms. He appears utterly content being held by the stranger and Jungkook allows him to play with the rings on his fingers while he listens to your niece talk.
You glance away from the scene for a moment to collect your thoughts, grumbling something under your breath.
“He must really like you.” your mother’s words have you coming back to reality. “He doesn’t really like being held.”
You frown at the sight of Jungkook and your nephew now because it was causing a weird pull in your heart that has your mind racing at what in the world it could be. 
Your brother and you make eye contact, both knowing where your mother was going with this.
“Do you want kids, Jungkook?”
You groan with a roll of your eyes. “Mother-”
“Yes, I do.” Jungkook answers immediately. He bounces your nephew on his leg, his hand being tugged by the toddler. “Maybe two one day.”
Don’t entertain her, you want to tell Jungkook. Your mother would never stop digging deeper and asking more questions. 
“Oh, really? When do you two-”
“I’m gonna have to stop you right there.” you intervene, body flushing with heat. You take a sip of your water before continuing. “Mother, please.”
To your mother, the sooner you and Jungkook started a family, the better. She was growing to like him and that meant that she would be pushing the act of marriage and having children with you more often - even before you finished college. 
“I’m just saying,” your mother is quick to defend herself. “Jungkook looks like he’s amazing with children.”
Fuck Jeon Jungkook because now you were never going to hear the end of this.
Your brother is amused with the interaction as it reminds him when he was in your shoes with his current wife that his mother had adored similarly to Jungkook. 
“I’ll have to ask Y/N to marry me first.” Jungkook chuckles. “Getting her to be my girlfriend was a challenge alone.”
“Good luck getting me to say yes.” you grumble, crossing your arms. You try to be as offish as you could be to get the thoughts out of your head - the thoughts of Jungkook holding a cute baby that possibly looked exactly like him.
A baby with big doe eyes…
A baby with squishy cheeks…
A baby with a wide toothless grin smiling up at you…
Oh fuck, you think. This feeling couldn’t be baby fever. That could not be what you were feeling while watching Jungkook and your nephew - surely not. The last thing you ever wanted was a child - especially not with him. No, you need to push out all the thoughts of that. There’s no way you’d imagine how good of a father Jungkook would be; how attentive and kind and loving - 
You want to gag and your eyes glare at the culprit - Jungkook’s eyes already on you and his lips twitching upward as if he knows what you’re thinking right now.
“Fuck Jeon Jungkook.” you say aloud accidently, fully intending on saying it in your mind and hoping it would telepathy transfer to the man.
“Y/N!” Jungkook only laughs as your mother goes to scold you, your brother following suit.
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“Y/N, I have to buy it for her!” Jungkook pleads with wide eyes. “She called me Uncle!”
“Can’t you tell she’s playing you?” you sigh with a shake of your head. “She’s 8. She doesn’t even call me her aunt.”
“Maybe if you bought her a Barbie dream house she would.” Jungkook says, turning his phone around to show you said dream house your niece had asked for at dinner. 
You blink a few times to process Jungkook’s words and then you shake your head once more. “You already bought it, didn’t you?” you ask suspiciously. When Jungkook doesn’t respond, your eyes widen. “You’re unbelievable. How could you let a child play you?”
Jungkook places his phone onto his bed and follows you into the bathroom. “But she called me Uncle…” he trails off. 
“She did that because she knows how soft you are.” you roll your eyes, kicking off your clothes and begin to turn on the shower. “She already has one.”
Jungkook isn’t fazed. “I know. She told me.” he says. “But this one is bigger.”
You should have known Jungkook would fall victim to your niece. She could be sweet when she wanted to, and cutesy. Of course, that was before she ran your pockets dry with whatever doll, dollhouse or slime she desired.
And all she had to do was call Jungkook uncle - she could smell the weak ones a mile away.
“When we have a daughter, Y/N, you can’t be jealous when I buy her things.” Jungkook says jokingly - it’s only done to get a reaction out of you. 
You turn around hastily to glare at Jungkook, body heating up. “I’m not-”
“I don’t want to hear anything else you have to say.” Jungkook interrupts. “Let’s take a shower without you denying me our future.”
Jungkook proceeds to strip as you enter the shower and goes to do the same. “Does the water have to be this hot?” he murmurs. 
“Yes.” you respond without saying anything further. If he wanted to shower with you it was something he was going to have to deal with.
Jungkook stands behind you, hands on your shoulders. He begins to rub them, enjoying how close he gets to be to you. “You have work tomorrow?” he asks after a moment.
“Yeah.” you respond, eyes fluttering close. The water burns heavenly against your skin as Jungkook’s hands work on your shoulders. “I don’t wanna go.”
“You don’t have to.” Jungkook suggests, working his hands to your neck. “We can just stay in bed together.”
You snort. “There you go again trying to get me to leave my job.”
“You constantly talk about the co-worker twice your age arguing with you.”
“Because,” you turn around so fast that Jungkook flinches. “the bitch had the nerve to tell me that I was wrong when I was told to stock the shelves!”
The water is burning Jungkook’s skin and he contemplates if he should have showered with you today - but nonetheless, he places his hands back onto your shoulders, you now facing him. 
“Yeah.” Jungkook nods quickly, because if he didn’t then you’d revert your anger towards him for losing track of what you were saying. “Fuck her. I bet she’s just jealous of you.” it’s always safer to agree with you than disagree.
Your shoulders relax and you close your eyes. Jungkook watches you, just wondering how your body can stand such hot water trailing down your skin.
Naked skin…
Such soft naked skin, gentle to the touch. Warm skin that he loves touching and rubbing…
“Is that your dick against my thigh?” you ask without opening your eyes because you know the answer. 
“I can’t help it.” Jungkook quips. “You look so beautiful…” he trails off, slightly embarrassed that it doesn’t take long for him to get hard.
You open your eyes and look at Jungkook, blinking away the droplets of water. You would usually say something snarky - how obsessed he was with you. But in the end, you and he already knew as such - and he would always agree with your words.
So instead, you smile - a genuine smile that has Jungkook’s cheeks burning and his cock hardening even more.
“You’re so cute.” you tell Jungkook, placing your hands on his chest. You rub up and past his shoulders, to his neck and then his cheeks. You gently pull on them. “So, so, cute.”
“I’m a man.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, but he allows you to tease him as much as you’d like. “Men can’t be cute.”
“Sure they can.” you snort. “You’re cute.” you place your hands on his shoulders once more. “Like a little puppy always humping my leg.”
Jungkook releases a deep laugh at your words. He brings you closer to him, wrapping you into an embrace. 
“I got you a gift.” you say after a few moments of being in Jungkook’s arms. “I hid it under the bed since you don’t look under there often.”
Jungkook hums. “You got me a gift?” he asks. “I wasn’t expecting one.”
“Of course you weren't.” you retort. “You always buy me things…I figured I should get you a little christmas gift.” you say, suddenly nervous.
Jungkook nods his head. “Thank you.” he murmurs. “I got you something-”
“You have to be kidding me.” you groan, pushing away from him slightly. “I told you not to buy-”
“I didn’t!” Jungkook shakes his head hastily, chuckling at your reaction. You had insisted on Jungkook not wasting any more money during the holiday season - even if he never truly listened to you. “I actually made you something.”
You furrow your brows and tilt your head. Jungkook’s not lying, you note. “Made me something…?” you’re skeptical of what Jungkook had made you. He’s artistic you know, very creative in his own right - it was one of the reasons as to why you got him the gift you did.  “Thank you.” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck. “My mom’s convinced that I’ll have you running away soon if I don’t treat you right.”
“You treat me just right.” Jungkook hums, pressing his lips to your forehead. “I know how to handle you.”
Jungkook’s hands hold your waist. 
“Besides, I promised your mother that I’ll give her adorable grandchildren-”
“You always know how to ruin the moment, huh?” you grumble. 
“Don’t be like that, baby. I saw the look in your eyes…” Jungkook turns you around, your back to him. He holds you close against his body, hands roaming your own. “...I know baby fever when I see it.”
“Fuck you.” you hiss - that comes off more like a moan. Jungkook’s hands are now groping your breast in his hands, the hot water burning your skin and causing even more arousal to run through you. 
“It’s okay to admit, baby. I think I’d be a hot dad.” Jungkook jokes, his lips on your neck. “But that won’t happen until after we’re married.”
“As if I’d say yes.”
“You will.” Jungkook hums, teeth grazing the skin of your neck. “That won’t be until we’re both ready, though. Until then…”
Jungkook’s hand trails between your legs, fingers rubbing gently onto your clit. His free hand places itself onto your neck to lean your head back against him. “You’re so pretty.”
“Thank you.” you moan, Jungkook’s fingers twirling around your clit. He forces your legs apart so he can feel even more of you. “You are, too.”
“Pretty?” Jungkook chuckles, licking his lips. “Thank you.”
“...’want you.” you moan, your hand gripping his wrist.  “Don’t wanna wait.”
“You’re always impatient.” Jungkook snorts.
“We still have the entire night.” you say, removing Jungkook’s fingers from your clit.  You bring Jungkook’s hand towards your lips and bring his fingers into your mouth. Your tongue swirls onto his fingers, knowing that the act would drive Jungkook wild. 
Jungkook groans and without warning, presses you to the shower wall. You yelp at feeling the cold tile, but don’t complain. You just needed Jungkook inside of you now.
“You’re so pretty.” Jungkook whimpers, entering his cock inside of you. “So perfect for me.”
Your hands hold onto the tile walls for support as Jungkook goes deeper into you. 
Jungkook shudders, one hand on your waist and the other above your hand on the wall. He starts slow, enjoying the way your pussy takes him so good. There’s something about how tight you always are that drives him crazy - how wet and warm and willing you are for him. He could never get tired of it.
“Feels so good.” you whimpered and it’s enough for Jungkook to pick up the pace. 
“Yeah?” Jungkook presses his lips against your shoulder blades. “I love the way you feel.”
Jungkook plunges deeper inside of you, his only thought right now was to cum and make you cum with him. 
Jungkook’s teeth lightly bite down on your shoulder blade, short breaths releasing from his lips.  He places his fingers back onto your clit - he loves giving you double the pleasure. 
You bite your lips hard - fuck Jeon Jungkook and his hands never staying off of your clit. He always made it difficult for you to remain snippy with him, especially when he fucks you so good. 
As for Jungkook, his fingers never cease their rubbing. There’s something about your moans that often sets him off - to always want to pleasure you until the very end of it all.
Jungkook thrusts into you a little harder; more needily. Over the sound of the running shower water, Jungkook’s thrust is heard. Skin slapping echo throughout the bathroom, the burning sensation of the water he has since grown accustomed to.
“My pretty girl,” Jungkook breaths. “I’ll have to propose to you in the middle of fucking you.”
“Shut-” your words are interrupted with Jungkook removing his cock out of you to crash right back inside, pressing you firmly against the wall.
“Eventually you’d admit just how much you like me, baby. But I’ll never be going away.”
“S-Shut up.” you hiss against the wall, feeling Jungkook’s palm tighten its hold onto your hand. “I do like you.”
Jungkook snorts. “I know, baby.” is all he says before he continues to ram deep inside of you, his focus now fully on cumming - the quicker he did, the quicker he and you could do this again later.
Your walls, so humid and velvety, are preparing to milk him for everything - and he was preparing to give them to you. They twitch around his cock so lovingly and he knows you want him to cum in you like he always does.
“Please,” you whimper, pussy clenching tightly around his cock that Jungkook couldn't help but choke. “please cum in me.”
Jungkook doesn’t know when the last time you begged him to cum in you in such a way, but that didn’t matter to him. He was going to give you what you wanted like he always did; it never took much convincing. He closes his eyes, mind wandering in how full he could make you with his cum.
How beautiful you’d look full of his cum…
How your skin would have a flushed glow to it…
How perfect you would look with a rounded stomach…
“Fuck…!” Jungkook cums the hardest he’s ever had, surprised with himself at his own thoughts of you. He twitches, unable to let you go and fully unaware that his hand that once cupped your waist instead cupped your stomach.
Fuck Jeon Jungkook, Jungkook thinks himself.
Series Masterlist
@minaamhh @suciedad-divina @satisfied18 @y2k5bby @petalsofink @swga-ficrecs @rrrapmonste-rr @xtrataerrestrial @bangctans @danielle143 @taekritimin123 @thelilbutifulthings @jksjx @tasha-0795 @busanbby-jjk @joonlover1207 @hollowtree11 @amberpanda99 @parkinglot-nights @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @hoseokteardrop @jingerbreadoutofstock @subtaegguk
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moonstruckme · 6 months
Note
Could I request poly marauders x reader who was always judged at home on what she ate when she was little, and now subconsciously hides her food from the marauders (like she doesn’t even realize she’s doing it) I completely understand if you’re not comfortable doing this req!
Thanks honey!
cw: reader experiences shame around eating "bad" foods
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words
“You know what I could use right now?” Sirius asks about halfway through the film, right on schedule. “A little treat.” 
You smile, and James hops up gamely. “I’ll see what we have,” he says. Remus chuckles as you and Sirius both turn around on the couch, watching eagerly as James goes into the kitchen. “Ice cream?” he asks, as if he doesn’t know already. 
“Obviously,” Sirius confirms. 
James opens the freezer. “Alright, we have rocky road…half a pint of mint chip…rum raisin—Remus, you’re an old man.” Remus shrugs with a little smile. You think that he’s probably just glad no one else wants anything to do with his flavor of choice. “Also plain vanilla, and…” James pauses, moving things aside and reaching into the back of the freezer. “...chocolate cherry. This yours, angel?”
You’d forgotten you’d bought that. “Yeah,” you tell him, “but it’s open to everyone, of course.” 
James sends you an odd look. “Why’d you have it back behind the frozen peas?”
“I didn’t know it was back there,” you say with a shrug. “I just put things there automatically, I guess.” 
There’s a crinkling sound as James moves more bags of frozen vegetables aside. “There’s also a box of thin mints and an ice cream sandwich.” 
“Ooh, can I have that?” Sirius asks, giving you a pleading look. 
You smile at him. “Course you can. And Jamie, would you bring me the chocolate cherry, please?” 
James still has a funny look on his face as he shuts the freezer, bringing you and Sirius your frozen treats. You turn around once he hands it to you, finding Remus watching you with a similar expression. 
“What?” you ask, popping the lid off your ice cream. James squishes between you and Sirius, the four of you barely fitting on the couch. 
Remus looks like he’s turning something over in his head. “Why was all that back behind the frozen vegetables, love?” 
You shrug, happily sucking ice cream off your spoon. “I dunno. I just put it there, I guess.” 
“It just…” Remus shrugs, and he’s wearing that tiny smile he does when he’s trying to make light of something he doesn’t consider light at all. You tilt your head bemusedly. “It makes it seem like you were trying to hide them or something.” 
“She’s always hiding food,” Sirius says airily, munching on his dessert. “Like the oreos behind the soup cans.” You all look at him, and he stops chewing. “Was that not something we all knew?”
“I don’t…I didn’t think I was hiding anything.” You cross your arms, feeling defensive without really knowing why. There’s a whole number of things you don’t know about yourself, apparently. 
“It’s alright, darling,” Remus says soothingly, placing a hand on your thigh, “just so long as you don’t think you have to hide anything from us.” 
“I don’t,” you say, but you’re looking at your lap and your face feels hot. You don’t, right? Why would you? 
“Sorry for calling you out like that, babe,” Sirius says through a mouthful. “I figured it was intentional, and you just didn’t want us to eat your food. Nobody here cares what you eat, y’know.” 
“I know,” you promise him. “I guess…I just get a little embarrassed sometimes. Like, if I pig out, I don’t want everyone to know because suddenly a whole box of oreos is gone or whatever.” 
“First of all, as if we would even notice,” James scoffs, giving you a friendly shake by the shoulder. “And second, it’s like Sirius said—we don’t care what you eat, sweetheart. Or how much of it. If you want to eat a box of oreos, that’s your business. That’s not even that many oreos.” He shakes his head like you’re silly. “No one’s going to judge you for it.”  
It’s not surprising to hear him say that, and yet you can’t make yourself believe it’s true. Your boyfriends may not say anything about your eating habits—to your face or even to each other—but there’s no way that if they knew every detail, they wouldn’t think it was shameful. 
“Also,” Remus says, arching an eyebrow, “I don’t love the phrase ‘pig out.’ There’s nothing wrong with having a treat—”
“Duh,” Sirius cuts in, toasting with his half-eaten ice cream sandwich. 
“—and you shouldn’t feel like you have to hide things like that from us,” Remus finishes with a nod to appease Sirius. “If you don’t mind me asking, did you put your food in hiding places before you moved in with us?” 
You gnaw on your lip as you think back to pints of ice cream stowed in the ice cube dispenser when you lived at home, eating before your parents got back from work and quickly putting it away again when you heard cars approaching. Back then, you’d hidden dishes in your room too, evidence of food you knew wouldn’t be approved of crusted onto plates and bowls you were keeping stashed there until you could wash them without anyone noticing. 
“I guess so,” you say, and you can feel Remus’ eyes on yours but can’t bring yourself to meet them. You don’t know whether your shame is for your love of junk food or the odd habit of secrecy you’ve fallen into because of it. It might be both. “I used to do it when I lived at home, but I didn’t realize I was doing it here.” 
“That’s alright, sweetheart,” James says hastily, panicking in the face of your solemn change in mood. “So long as you know we don’t care, it’s not like you hiding it is hurting anyone.” 
“It’s hurting me,” Sirius protests. “We had ice cream sandwiches, and I had no idea!” 
You laugh, and James visibly relaxes. “Alright, I’ll try to stop putting things way in the back so that you can find them. I’m not trying to hoard, I swear.” 
“Keeping all the good stuff for yourself.” Sirius shakes his head at you. “That sweet face hides some pretty selfish tendencies, huh?” 
“Actually, could I grab a few of your oreos?” Remus asks before you and Sirius can really get into it. “That sounds pretty good right now.” 
“Yes!” you say. “Yes, please, have as many as you want. Sorry I kept them to myself, it wasn’t on purpose.” 
James takes your jaw in a big hand, pressing a slobbery smooch to your cheek. “You’re forgiven, sweetpea.” He raises his eyebrows. “If I can have some of those thin mints.”
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The Better Man
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~1.1k
Warnings: fluff, minor angst
Summary: You're a single mom who hates bringing men into your life only to have them leave. Your daughter deserves better than that. You're currently dating Spencer, and you're wondering if it's the right time to bring him into her life. Will it be worth it?
Square Filled: “you want? you want? you want? what about what I want?” for @anyfandomgoesbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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I can do this. I’m more than capable of getting breakfast ready for both me and my daughter. Even if she is screaming her head off. Oh, please be quiet. Please make it stop.
“Gemma, please stop crying. I am getting your food.” She continues to cry. “Baby, please. I’m working as hard as I can right now.”
If anyone were to look in your kitchen window, they would see a woman who is just trying to feed her child while looking like a raccoon with messy bedhead hair. The bags under your eyes don’t help your case, either, but you haven’t gotten much sleep this past week. Gemma has been sick and has been keeping you up at all hours of the night.
Sometimes you feel like a shitty mom because it seems like whatever you do isn’t enough. Being a single mom is hard. No one told you how to do this. No one gave you a rule book and said, “Here you go! Study for the final exam!” where the final exam is actually having a kid. You’re doing the best you can do even if it doesn’t feel like it.
Before you can start crying because Gemma is crying, you plate some bananas, cereal, and small strawberries on a plate for her. She immediately stops crying when the food is in front of her, and she digs in. You chuckle tiredly and kiss the top of her head. She is getting so old. It seems like yesterday you birthed her when really, it’s been eight months.
Your phone rings and you light up at seeing Spencer’s name.
“Hey,” you answer.
“Hey. I’m off this weekend if you want to hang out.”
“I don’t think I’ll be able to get a sitter,” you sigh. “I’m pretty low on money right now.”
“That’s fine. I don’t mind if you bring her along. I understand if you don’t want to, but I’m really great with kids. I’d love it if she came along.”
You and Spencer have been seeing each other for a few months but he hasn’t met your daughter yet. You don’t want to introduce her to someone new if they’re not going to be in your life for very long. You really like Spencer and you hope he’s going to be in your life for a long time. He’s been very patient when it comes to your daughter, and maybe it’s time they meet.
“Why don’t you come over? I’d feel more comfortable having a date here.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I think it’s time you meet Gemma.”
“Okay, yeah! I’ll bring some food over and we can cook together.”
“That’d be amazing,” you smile.
“I gotta go. I’ll see you Friday.”
“Okay. Bye.” You hang up with a huge smile on your face. “You hear that, Gemma? You get to meet Spencer. He’s a sweetheart. You’ll love him.”
She squeals in response but it’s mostly because she wants more bananas. You’re not worried that she will love him, it’s if Spencer will love her. You can’t think about that. You have work to get to. The call center you work at has a daycare attached to it for parents who can’t get someone to watch their kids, so every day is Bring Your Daughter To Work Day.
The weekend comes faster than you expected but that means Spencer gets to come over. He might even spend the night if all goes well. When Spencer comes over, he is nothing but sweet towards Gemma. She is playing in her playpen but as soon as Spencer walks in, she squeals and crawls over to him.
“Spencer, this is Gemma. Baby, this is Spencer.” Spencer grins and picks her up once she gets to him. “I’ve been trying to get her to walk lately. She turns eight months next week.”
“Hi, Gemma. Do you want to walk for Mama? Yeah, I can see it. You’ll get there,” he chuckles.
Spencer brings in the groceries he bought so you two can cook lunch while Gemma plays and watches Spongebob. While you don’t know how to be a single mom, and learning every day to be better, you’d rather do this than be with the ex who knocked you up. He left you when you were pregnant so it’s just been you and Gemma for a long time now. It’s hard to let men in your life, especially with a kid so young, but Spencer has been nothing but a complete gentleman to you. He takes things at your pace, never does anything to make you uncomfortable, and always puts you and Gemma first.
Dinner is spent talking about your week and the plans you have this weekend and afterward, Spencer goes to the living room to play with Gemma some more. He’s really warming up to her. Maybe this is going to be a good thing. Your phone rings and your blood runs cold when you see who is calling you. You excuse yourself and step off to the side while Spencer tosses Gemma in the air a few inches only to catch her. Her laughter makes this night all the better.
“What do you want?” you ask when you answer the phone.
“Hey, you got any money to spot me? I’m in a bit of a pickle,” your ex asks.
“Are you kidding me right now? You call me up after how many months only to ask for money?”
“Can you do it or not?”
“Fuck no,” you hiss on the phone. “This might be in your grand plan, but I want you to actually start acting like a dad and be there for Gemma. You know, the daughter you have?”
“You want? You want? You want? What about what I want?”
“You’re a piece of shit.”
“Fuck this. I can’t believe calling you was ever a good idea.”
He hangs up after those harsh words, and you try your hardest not to cry. He’s fucking lucky you’re not going after him for child support, but maybe you should.
“Y/N! Look!” You look at Spencer and Gemma to see her walking toward him on wobbly legs. “She’s walking!”
“Gemma!” you gasp and rush over. “You’re walking, baby!”
Before she can fall to the ground, Spencer scoops her in his arms and kisses her cheeks. She has no idea what is going on but she loves the attention. Spencer looks like he doesn’t want to be anywhere but here. Seeing him with Gemma today has only made you realize that he’s the only man you ever want in Gemma’s life.
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Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)
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yanderelionwrites · 6 months
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Trick or Treat (Male!Yandere x Reader)
A Halloween one-shot for spooky season 🎃 I didn't want it to be too long so it's a little rushed, but here it is. Enjoy!
Content Warning: yandere, breaking and entering, assault/grabbing, manipulation
Word Count: 1.9k
“Are you sure you don’t wanna come to the party with us? I have a spare costume you could borrow that I know you would look great in!” Your roommate asked, adjusting the faux dog ears that were sitting atop her head as she walked into the kitchen.
You pulled a candy bowl out of the cupboard, dumping the sweet treats you had bought earlier today and filling it up to the brim. You smiled politely at her, but shook your head.
“Nah, I’m good. You know parties aren’t really my thing. Besides, somebody’s gotta watch over the house to make sure it doesn’t get TP’d or egged or whatever.”
“Still, though, I feel bad leaving you here by yourself. Are you sure you’ll be okay?”
“You sound like such a mom, Mallory,” Your other roommate, Tristan, snarked, coming down the stairs clad in a black cat costume. “(Name)’s been home alone plenty of times before. They’re not a kid.”
“I know, but it’s Halloween! The holiday just makes being alone feel more scary…”
“I’ll be fine, Mal,” You sighed, though you were still grateful for her concern. 
“We should probably get going now,” Tristan said, checking his phone. “Come on, Mal, let’s go,” Tristan grabbed ahold of her wrist, dragging her out the front door. “Don’t have too much fun without us, alright?” He winked at you.
“Bye, (Name)! We’ll probably be back around midnight! Call us if you need anything!”
After waving them goodbye, you took a small table and placed the candy bowl on top, leaving it out front with a “take two” sign. You had only bought one bag so if it ran out, it ran out. Locking the door behind you, you made your way upstairs to your bedroom, excitement coursing through your body. You loved your roommates, but there was just something about having the whole house to yourself that made you giddy. A true introvert at heart.
Plopping down on your bed, you turned on your TV, scrolling through streaming sites to decide what to watch. In honor of the holiday, you naturally chose a horror movie, something you’ve never seen before but heard good things about. Cuddling up with your favorite plush, you get comfortable as the film starts, ready to experience the same dread and terror alongside the main characters.
That feeling never came however, because you quickly fell asleep not even 30 minutes into the movie. An hour had gone by by the time you woke up, with the credits rolling and the obnoxious sound of the doorbell going off. You stuffed your face into the blanket you were wrapped up in, hoping and waiting for the visitor to go away. The candy bowl was probably empty and some greedy brat was outside demanding for more.
You were forced to jump out of bed and stomp down the stairs when the ringing only continued, followed by loud knocking. Damn entitled kids. You thought bitterly, undoing the locks and yanking the front door back without even checking who was outside first.
“Look, I don’t got any more candy, so just-” You barked, but stopped mid-sentence when you were met with a tall figure dressed head to toe in black clothes. He had a hood covering his eyes, with a mask obscuring his nose and mouth. He stood eerily still, staying completely silent, only the sound of his heavy breathing being heard. It felt like an eternity before he said, “...Trick or Treat.”
Your eyes widen, backing up a bit and closing the door enough to shield yourself from him. You definitely were not expecting a grown-ass man to be outside your door asking for treats. Chuckling awkwardly, you stutter, “U-Uhm, sorry…we unfortunately ran out of candy…”
“Darn…that’s too bad,” The man’s voice was husky, but muffled by his mask. “I was really looking forward to having something sweet tonight,” He flipped his hood off before pulling his mask down, giving you a hungry look. “You’re wrong, though. The sweetest piece of candy is standing right in front of me. I could just devour you in one bite.“
Slamming the door shut, you quickly locked it again, disgust and slight fear taking over you. The audacity he had to just start flirting with you was downright deplorable, the creepiness of it all causing your hair to stand on end. Maybe this could be a prank? A stupid Halloween scare that would rack up millions of views online, with poor you being one of the unfortunate victims. 
Yeah, that’s probably what it was. You wouldn’t expect any less from this neighborhood, after all. Your heart was still pounding as you tried to convince yourself that it was just a joke, however, and you headed into the kitchen to grab something to drink. A glass of water was needed to calm your nerves.
After gulping down the cool liquid, you searched for a snack to chow down on. Hopefully if you eat something while watching your movie, you won’t fall asleep this time. Deciding on microwave popcorn, you popped a bag in and waited for it to be ready. 
Only a few seconds went by when you heard tapping on a window. It was coming from the sliding glass door that led out into the backyard. At first, you wanted to believe you were just hearing things, but the next taps were louder and incessant. The last thing you wanted to do was investigate, having had enough fright for one night, so you stayed where you were.
Good thing you did, because immediately after the tapping stopped, came a loud crash. You screamed, watching in horror as you witnessed a brick fly through the glass door, shattering it to pieces. Reflexively, you quickly grabbed a knife from the knife block, just in time to see the man from before casually stalking into your home. He turned to you, an eerie grin on his face as he approached. You pointed your weapon towards him, making sure he kept his distance.
“Stay the hell away! The fuck’s your problem, why are you breaking into my house?!” You shouted, putting on your nastiest glare.
He cocked his head to the side, as if he couldn’t understand why you were angry. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m here for my candy,” He said matter-of-factly. Smirking, he curled his pointer finger at you. “So put that silly thing down and c’mere.”
“You’re insane! Get the fuck out of my house!”
“So rude,” The man huffed, pouting like a child as if this was all a game to him. “Well, if you’re not going to give me my treat, I’ll just have to give you a trick. That’s how this works, hm?”
Before you could even process his words, he lunged forward, twisting the knife out of your hands with ease. He was stronger than he looked, and within a matter of seconds, he had you pinned against the counter. You winced as your stomach dug into the marble surface, and you desperately tried to move your hands from out underneath his iron grip. They wouldn’t budge.
“Don’t struggle too hard, darling. It’ll make this easier for the both of us,” The man breathed into your ear. Chuckling, he added, “You’re cute when you’re scared, you know. God, I can’t wait to taste you.”
Your fear only worsened at that, struggling even harder even though it was useless. “W-Why are you doing this? Who even are you?” Your voice wobbled as tears pricked the corners of your eyes.
“Who I am doesn’t matter right now. And maybe you’ll find out why this is happening to you if you do some digging later. A little detective work, if you will.”
What the hell does that mean? You couldn’t dwell on it for very long, though, because the man was pressing into you even closer now. You squealed when he dragged his tongue along the shell of your ear, anger getting ready to burst when he only laughed at your reaction.
“Get off me, creep!” You snarled, and you actually managed to jerk your arm back and elbow him in the stomach. Hissing, his grip loosened, allowing you to push him off. He stumbled back, and while he was vulnerable, you promptly kicked him in the groin. The intruder yelped in pain as he fell to the floor. You took this chance to run, practically throwing yourself at the front door and fumbling with the locks so you could get the hell out of there.
“Yeah, you better run…while you still can…” The man groaned, but his threats hardly fazed you considering he was just a pathetic heap on the ground now.
Flinging open the door, you sprinted out of the house, planning to find safety with one of your neighbors. You couldn’t get far, however, as you ran into someone quite familiar.
“Tristan?” You panted, hands on your knees as you tried to catch your breath while looking up at your worried roommate.
“(Name)? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Tristan asked, putting a hand on your shoulder to try and comfort you. “What are you doing out here?”
You sucked in a few more breaths before explaining the situation to him. “There…someone….some guy broke into the house… He was after me…he tried…tried…” You couldn’t even finish your sentence, it was too terrifying to relive. 
“Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe now,” Tristan hushed you, pulling you into a surprising embrace. It was something you never expected from him, but you returned the gesture anyway.
“He’s still in the house, Tristan… We need to call the cops and get away from here,” You pulled away from the hug, eyes now focused back on the house. “I left my phone in my room, so can you call them?”
“Yeah, I will,” He nodded, whipping out his phone to start dialing. “Let’s go back to my car and stay there until they arrive, okay?”
The two of you made yourselves comfortable in the warm car, and you listened intently as Tristan called 911. After he hung up, he told you that they were on their way and would be there as soon as possible. It was able to calm your beating heart only a little bit. There was a beat of silence between you two before you decided to speak up.
“So where’s Mallory? Is she still at the party?”
Without missing a beat, Tristan said, “Yeah, she is. I just had to come back cuz I forgot something. The last thing I expected was to see you in such a panic, though. Good thing I got here when I did.”
“Yeah… I wasn’t sure what neighbor would answer the door to help me, so I’m glad I ran into you,” You confessed.
Tristan laid a comforting hand over yours and smiled. “I’m just happy you’re not hurt. That guy’s gonna pay for what he did.”
You gave him a weak smile in return, before leaning into his touch. Seeing Tristan being so soft was new, but you found it sweet and appreciated how hard he was trying to soothe you. You closed your eyes as he wrapped an arm around you, glad that you were finally away from that creepy intruder.
Tristan let you rest, pulling out his phone when it buzzed with a text alert. Opening the message, it read:
I’m out of the house now. Sorry I couldn’t keep em pinned for longer, I know u wanted to look like the hero or some shit. Though it looks like it still worked out in the end
Trying to hide his smile, Tristan replied:
Thanks man. I’ll send the rest of your payment over in a bit, after the cops leave and things settle down.
Stuffing his phone away, he squeezed your arm gently, smirking at the way you moved in closer. You were so easy to scare.
Right into his arms.
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Part 8 - Romance Isn't Dead
Slasher Handler Masterlist
NSFW under the cut.
CW: Bones, flashback, high anxiety/panic, violence and gore, brandon being brandon (assholery), crying, manic pixie dream ghost (assholery), MREs, descriptions of knives/multi-tools (not in use)
You can’t fucking breathe. It’s like your diaphragm is frozen and you can’t pull air into your lungs. Your vision is tunneled onto the skull in the box, the bright blue scrap of painters tape with Simon’s messy scrawl. Behind and under you, you know he’s saying something. All you can hear is the blood rushing through your ears.
The last expression you’d ever seen on Brandon’s face flashes before your eyes.
A big hand closes over your mouth and nose.
You flail. Before you even know you’re doing it, your elbow comes up to slam against the man behind you. The hand disappears. Using the momentum of your swing, you pitch yourself sideways. But a huge arm wraps around your waist. You’re trapped. You’re trapped. The killer is at your back and you’re trapped.
Simon’s voice cuts through the panic. “Stop squirmin’ before you hurt yourself, precious. Or I’ll make you.”
Every muscle in your body locks up. You burst into tears.
It’s awful, the way he coos at you. But when he gathers you in this arms and cradles you, you can’t help the way you cling. You’re torn between burying your face in his neck and being too terrified to close your eyes.
Images from that night at the ski lodge flash behind your eyes. Finding Stacy bleeding out from her shoulder, already too weak to stand. Your manager, propped against a wall with his guts spilled in his lap. Amber, her throat slit long before you and Brandon stumbled across her. Brandon, who’d followed you downstairs as you looked for matches and candles. The same Brandon who had been trying to convince you to share a bed with him when the power went out.
“To conserve warmth,” he’d said, with that that stupid smirk on his face as he followed you into the kitchen area.
“No, Brandon,” you’d finally hissed at him, whirling on him with a long, unlit white candle in your hand. You poked him with it as you whisper-shouted, sick of his shit. “No. No. Fucking no. What do I need to say to get you to get it? I don’t sleep with my co-workers. And even if I did, I wouldn’t sleep with you because you’re an asshole who can’t take a hint. Go find Amber if you’re so hard up. She’s actually interested in you.”
“Amber’s a slag,” Brandon said, not bothering to whisper. “What, you’re not actually fucking Riley, are you? Won’t fuck a co-worker, but you’re fine shagging a neighbor.”
“I’m not fucking Riley,” you’d snapped, still at a whisper because you weren’t about to be goaded into shouting.
“Then what’s the problem?” Brandon’d snapped right back. “Stop being so stuck up. I bought you drinks, I walked you home more than once-”
“I told you not to!”
“-I’ve brought you flowers and chocolates. I got you coffee from your favorite spot, and a pastry-”
“You think I’m interested in dating you because you picked up a danish on your way to work?” You’d wanted to pull your hair out. Wanted to wrap your hands around his throat and shake. “Brandon, I fucking hate cherries and you-! No, that’s not even the point. I’m not interested. I’ve never been interested. Leave me alone.”
His fingers closing around your upper arm, tight, had made you push him away. Not as hard as you could, just enough to startle and put some distance between you. But he’d slipped in something on the tile and fallen to his knees.
“Shit,” he’d yelped. “What the fuck? Ugh, the floor is wet. You’re lucky I didn’t break something.”
You had snorted, turned your back and picked up the matches that were laying on the counter. Lighting one, and then your candle, you’d turned back as you heard him getting up. You’d opened your mouth to say something scathing, but… “Brandon, what… is that?”
There’d been something dark and wet on his hands, his sleeve. Whatever it was, he’d slipped on more than a trickle of it, coming from under the table. And when you rounded the table, there she was. Amber, in a pink pajama set and a pool of her own blood.
Yours was the first scream of the night. Brandon’s had been the last.
And now the man that had killed both of them is petting your hair and shushing you. You gasp as you pull yourself from the flashback, teeth chattering with remembered cold. A wave of goosebumps sweeps over you. You’re very aware of the gloved hand that rubs up and down your calf.
“A couple of deep breaths now,” Simon murmurs. You can feel his lips on your forehead through the cloth of his balaclava. “Deep breath in, there you are, precious. Let it out. Slow yourself down. That’s it. There’s a good girl.”
Another memory flashes through your body. Simon’s hands holding your hips steady as you rode him, just last night. His voice smoky and soft, “Easy, easy. There’s a good girl. Let me do all the work, yeah?”
You’re wracked by another wave of sobbing.
Eventually, you tire yourself out. Your limbs are suddenly just so much dead weight. Your eyes are so sore it hurts to blink. Every hitched breath shakes your whole body. You don’t fight it when Simon makes you tip your face up so he can see how puffy and red your face is. Only let out a shaky breath when he lifts the bottom of his mask just enough to let him taste the tears on your face.
“That was the worst night of my life,” you rasp.
Simon hums at that. “Worse than the hospital?”
“I thought I could trust you,” you say. You sniffle, then continue. “I knew you weren’t safe. But I thought I could trust you.”
“Can’t you?”
You think about that for a long moment. Have to concede, “Don’t think you’ve ever actually lied to me. Well… you lied about your name. Fae rules.”
He chuckles at that. “Callin’ me a fairy?”
“Equal opportunity serial killer,” you murmur. If you weren’t so tired, it might have been funny. Right now, it feels like the words are all that carry you from one moment to the next.
“Cute.”
He lets you sit in his lap for a little while longer. It reminds you of being locked in his apartment that first week after the lodge. You’d sobbed yourself empty so many times. Felt hollowed out just like this. You’re going to need water, soon.
Finally, you put your feet on the ground, so you’re perched on Simon’s knee. He lifts a water bottle to your mouth, tips a mouthful at a time for you until you feel ready to hold it yourself. When you look at him, the skull is less menacing than in your memories. But his eyes are just as cold and dead.
“You’re fucked up,” you say to him. “You know that?”
The way his eyes crinkle at the edges means he’s genuinely grinning. “You think so?”
“I know so.”
“That’s good, clever girl. Can you tell what I’m thinking?”
You shrug. “Any time I try, I get it wrong. So tell me.”
“I’m thinking,” he says, leaning in to kiss your cheekbone. “That you have eleven minutes left.”
Everything in your body freezes. “What?”
“Haven’t found the key,” he says, kissing your cheek again before pulling his mask back down. “Clock’s still ticking until you’re out of the cuffs.”
The urge to burst into tears again wars with the urge to scream. You take a deep breath, hold it, and let it out slow. “Why are you like this?”
“Probably all the trauma,” he drawls. His hands lift you to stand and he pats your ass. “G’won then. Key’s in the box. You have plenty of time.”
Looking back at Brandon’s skull makes you feel ill. “Can I have the key you have?”
“Too late for that, precious. Don’t have enough time left to trade.”
“You fucking fucker,” you mutter around a hitching breath. A few deep breaths and you make yourself look at the skull again. Try to look at it as an object, a pile of shapes, not the remains of a person.
It takes you longer than you’d like to admit to step closer to the box. But you do. And you realize that the skull is on top of something. Cloth is folded up under it. On the left side of the box is a small, black hard case. You step over to that side, crouch down to pick the box up. Avoid the profile of the skull as much as possible. It has simple clasps. You take a deep breath and hold it before you open it.
Inside, surrounded by foam lining, are what look like three folding knives.
“It’s not in there,” Simon tells you. “Once the timer stops, you’ll have plenty of time for those.”
You don’t bother to answer, just put the case down next to you on the ground. The only other option for looking for the key is to move the cloth and, by extension, the skull. You clench your hand into a nervous fist, take a deep breath, and let it out. The cloth, when you touch it, is stiff. A gentle tug wiggles the skull a in place, just a bit.
You put your hands on the edge of the box and close your eyes for another few deep breaths. Fight the urge to vomit. Try to think.
Simon put it there to get a reaction out of you. Labeled it so you’d panic and cry. He knows you, so he probably knew you’d have to interact with the skull with a time limit. The key is in the box, somewhere, under all of that cloth and the skull.
The key… is under the skull.
Before you can let the nausea set in, you open you eyes and reach out to poke the skull hard with one finger. It tips, the bulk of it falling away from the jaw. And there’s the key, taped to the palate. A tiny metal cylinder, just like the one around Simon’s neck.
Even though you know the answer, you ask, “Do I have to touch it?”
Simon, of course, doesn’t say anything. You tug the cloth closer to yourself so you don’t have to reach too far and lay your fingers on the cheekbone. It’s cold, solid, and dry. You’re not sure why you expected different. You use your thumb to pick at the tape, focusing on that and nothing else. It comes away remarkably easily. The key falls from its spot with a soft clack against a tooth and lands on the cloth.
Unlocking your cuffs feels anticlimactic after all of that.
“Three minutes to spare,” Simon says. He sounds impressed.
You sniffle a bit as you rub your wrists. “New personal record.”
“You did yourself proud, Precious.”
The truth bubbles out of you before you can think better of it. “I can’t think of a reason not to hate you right now.”
“That’s because you’ve got some sense in your head,” Simon says. He stands, turns his back to you to go to the table. He picks up two of the MREs, reads off, “Chili with Beans or Mexican Rice and Bean Bowl?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Gotta eat more than crackers,” he says. “Might as well have some while I tell you about the rest of our little adventure together. Come sit at the table.”
You stand, look at his back where he’s picking grapes from the bag. “What’s outside the door?”
“The not-so-safe zone,” Simon says, without turning. “You go out that door, the next part of the game starts.”
Hunting trip three-point-oh. You sigh and walk across the mattress to the chair at the table. “Mexican rice, please.”
He passes it over. “Good choice.”
He’s quiet while you reacquaint yourself with the heating element and examine the rest of the package. He opens his own MRE and cracks open a bottle of water, offers it to you first. You use it to start the heating process, watch him do the same.
“So,” you huff, crossing your arms. There are a few minutes until the food will be hot. “What’s the next part of the game?”
“We’re gonna play a bit of capture the flag,” he says. “You ever been paintballing?”
You stare at him, jaw dropped. A headache starts to form under your left temple. “Have you lost your mind?”
It’s not often that Simon looks affronted. “Paintball is fun.”
You can’t help the disbelieving laughter. “Then why didn’t you take me to paintball?”
“Gotta train you on gun safety first,” he points out. “And most places make you play on teams.”
“And the guns aren’t real,” you counter. “That’s the real reason, right?”
He shrugs, “I prefer knives. But yeah, I’d want you to have something real.”
That reminds you. “What are the knives for?”
Simon goes to retrieve the little carrying case, snags his chair on the way back. He places the box on the table, turns it toward you and opens it. He picks up the leftmost blade and flicks it open with a quick motion. He hands it to you, black handle first as he takes a seat.
The handle is thick and the whole thing is a bit heavy. You turn it in your hand and realize that it’s a multi-tool.
“This is a Leatherman Free K4,” he says. “Decent multi-tool, lots of uses. How does it feel in your hand?”
How are you supposed to know? “Fine? It’s a knife.”
“Show me you can close the blade?”
You find the mechanism pretty easily, close the knife without incident. Simon nods, presents his hand, so you give him the knife back. He fiddles with it for a moment, and out pop a pair of scissors. And he hands it back.
“This one,” Simon calls your attention to the second item. It has a black handle as well, but the frame is open so you can actually see the tools. “is a Leatherman Skeletool CX.”
It’s impossible for you not to poke around. There are 8 little tools attached the the knife, including the scissors. A few you don’t really understand, but there are three separate screwdrivers and a bottle opener. You can think of a few times in the last couple of years a multi-tool like this could have come in handy.
You snort. “Skeletool?”
“Hush,” he chides you, smile audible in his voice as he hands it over. “This one has pliers, and a few other tools the other one doesn’t. Shorter blade, a bit lighter.”
“I can kind of feel the difference?” you offer.
“Don’t worry too much about it. Open and close it.”
You do. Pliers first, because you can. Then the blade. “Cool.”
He hands you the last one, a tiny thing that’s all silver, as he takes the second from your hand. “This one is the Skeletool KBX.”
You flick it open and closed without him asking. “Itty bitty.”
“That one’s very straightforward. Just the blade and a bottle opener on the handle.”
You pick up the little package of pretzel nuggets that came with your meal and cut into it. The plastic splits like butter. “Dangerous.”
“I dunno,” you admit. “I haven’t used them yet. You gonna tell me what they’re for?”
Simon hums, a noise you secretly have categorized as one of his “happy tiger” noises. You look up to see he’s got those eye wrinkles that mean he’s pleased. He’s looking at the little blade in your hand.
“Do you like them?”
“They’re gifts,” he says. “One for your usual purse, one for your backpack. The little one for the next time you want to go out dancing. After lunch, I’ll show you how to hold them.”
Staring at him, you think that you’d call the way his shoulders come up toward his ears bashful if he was anyone else. “Did you get me romance knives?”
“Skull’s got me in the doghouse,” he mutters, picking up his now-hot food. “Gotta give you something nice to balance it out.”
“Drugging and kidnapping me got you in the doghouse,” you correct him. “The skull has you under it.”
“I’ve got experience digging myself out,” Simon says with a shrug. “Eat.”
You grab your food and start extracting it from the heat pack. “You want to get back into my good graces? Tell me what the fuck happened in 2007. What the fuck does Roba mean?”
Simon chuckles. “That’s not a story you want to hear while you’re eating, sweet thing.”
“You made me touch Brandon’s skull,” you point out as you tear the packaging open. The smell of hot food makes you suddenly aware of how hungry you are. “So you had better start talking.”
“Promise I’ll tell you more when we’re home, Precious.”
“Swear it.”
“Cross my heart,” he says, flat blue eyes staring into yours. “Hope to die.”
“The whole story.”
“Promise you a summary that won’t make you vomit more than once,” he offers. “And I’ll rub your feet.”
You scoop a spoonful of rice and pop it in your mouth. “You’re going to rub my feet regardless.”
Simon gives a dry little laugh as he pushes his mask up over his mouth. “Yes, ma’am. Now eat. I’ll tell you the rules of capture the flag.”
195 notes · View notes
billskeis · 2 months
Note
heyyy how are youu? can you do 2009tom x reader fluff,where tom meets reader’s family for the first time,he meets her niece and nephew,also her brother and etc🥹
ᡣ𐭩 tom meeting your family
“come on tomm, it’s really cold..!” you exclaim to your boyfriend as your shivering in your spot at the front door of your parent’s house.
“wait babe i gotta grab the cake i bought,”
he slammed his car door to reveal a somewhat fancy paper bag that presumably carried the cake he was talking about.
“you bought cake? you’re so cute, they’ll definitely love you with or without it though,”
“i know—i just—first impressions y’know?”
you kiss him on the cheek to watch his face turn a rosy palette, knocking on the front door the both of you await for someone to let you in sooner than later.
as the door swung open, you were immediately met with your loving mom.
“hey baby—mwah—” as she kisses you on the cheek, “this must be tom! hello hii welcome to the fam it’s so nice to finally meet you!”
“it’s great to finally meet you too..”
“call me mom!”
“o-okay..! i bought a cake, i hope it you’ll like it,”
“oh how kind of you sweetie, i’ll take that from you! come in come in you guys must be so cold,”
the two of you enter the house you once remembered to love so dearly before you moved out with tom. looking in his direction, you can see him smile ear to ear as his cheeks tint a nice pink.
he’s shy, and nervous, but secretly so happy over the fact that your mom already loves him.
as the two of you converse, you find that tom get’s along with everyone. he met your dad, loves him. your brother and tom both play the guitar, tom offering to even give one of his own to him to which your brother jumps in joy.
aunts and uncles and grandparents treat him as their own, pinching at his cheeks, spoon-feeding him, giving him immense amount of compliments, hugging him as if he were their own blood and the overall coddling of your 20 year old boyfriend.
however, it seems as though one particular individual isn’t so fond of him.
“who the heck is this!? and what’re you doing with y/n??” it appears to be a small boy, probably around the age six or seven, gap toothed and seems to be in a sour mood at the appearance of your boyfriend.
“sammy, this is tom! my boyfriend!”
his face contorts in disapproval, tom pouting to retaliate your nephew’s foul mood.
“no—i don’t like him..”
“hey! you don’t get to talk to my boyfriend like that..”
“tch, whatever.”
you click your tongue and decide to just go prepare and grab plates of food for tomorrow and yourself to eat.
you had to leave before you actually strangled the kid.
“i’ll be back baby i’m just gonna go grab us something to eat ‘kay?” tom nods as you kiss his cheek to leave him in the room with sam.
silence. absolute silence, as they both stood there staring at each other.
“do you love her?” sammy asks.
“i do love her.”
“what do you love about her?”
“everything. she’s my whole world to me, i was hoping to get along with her family, she says it means a lot to her that we do,”
sam twiddles his thumbs within his hands, had he made y/n upset? was he being immature?
one cannot help but feel protective over the aunty that cared for her since he was born.
“you like—really really—love her??”
“really really, sam,”
“ew don’t say my name, but i guess.. i guess i can get to know you,”
“yeah?”
“yeah.”
“but if you ever break y/n’s heart.. i’ll come for you,”
“alright big man, whatever you say,”
tom holds out a fist, sammy hesitates to reciprocate the gesture, with a big cheeky smile, the little boy punches tom’s arm and runs off to god knows where.
“ow..”
as tom rubs his arm to relieve himself of the pain, standing alone, he feels a tug on the jeans he calls pants, way too baggy for him to even touch his legs, but enough that he felt the sensation of pulling at the bottom of them.
he looks down, he spots a little girl, seemingly younger than sammy. in pink frills and two low pigtails, she looks up at tom with beady eyes.
“well hello there child,”
she doesn’t respond. not yet verbal enough to actually make out the words she would’ve wanted to say to him, if there were any at all.
letting go of the pant leg, she makes grabbing motions at tom. to his surprise, it seems as though stranger danger isn’t really a concept to her as it is for sammy.
picking her up in his arm, he carries your niece holding him up to his chest as she sit on his forearm comfortably.
he jumps her up and down in his arms to see her smile, also smiling on his own.
“why aren’t you cute??”
he coos, holding out a finger in front of her, for her to wrap the totality of her hand around his index finger.
tom could feel his heart melt at the sight of how adorable she was.
coming back, you hold two plates in both hands to witness the site of your boyfriend getting along with your niece.
“aren’t you two the sweetest?? seems like you’ve meet lily!”
“she’s so.. cute!”
the little girl cannot help but shy away, hiding her face in tom’s neck.
it doesn’t explicitly show, but it seems as though your niece has taken a very big liking to tom, she definitely thinks hes the cutest boy she’s ever seen.
“hey! don’t go stealing tom from me now, that’s my boyfriend,” you rush to put the plates full of food on the table to tickle at your niece.
she giggles and jolts in tom’s grasp as he attempts to securely hold onto her, lily wrapping her small arms around his neck.
you sulk and cross your arms, she won the battle, but you also cannot help but gawk at the sight of seeing tom hold your niece so lovingly.
“she stole my boyfriend from me,” you scowl as you playfully hit tom’s arm.
chuckling, tom cannot hide the wide grin plastered on to his face, smiling ever so brightly.
“jealous?”
“…yes”
“awww don’t be like that, you’ll have enough of me later,”
your mouth agape as he smirks at you, clearly intending something behind that, you feel anxious, but impatient.
you need to give him a child.
149 notes · View notes
naughtystiel · 3 months
Text
“Hello, Dean.” A familiar voice sounded behind him. Dean had to close his eyes and inhale deeply through his nose to stay collected. His thumb played with a ring on his finger, rotating it.
Had it really been ten years already?
Dean had never wanted to live like everybody else, he knew this even as a kid. Their house was one of twenty, scattered around in between fields. For one it could appear appealing, perhaps idyllic.
Not for Dean.
When he was sixteen years old he bought himself a guitar; playing it made his heart sing. With the village being small, he pulled on the strings every night, the stars and vast meadow his only audience. There were no standing ovations though; he knew he had to leave.
Years had passed and the devil on his shoulder kept whispering to him to go, abandon his life of stillness, search for something that would help him rip out the thick roots he had grown there.
His mother’s tears made her rosy cheeks shine in the light of a candle when he told her it was time. A rosary in his small suitcase almost burned, her parting gift that he would never use. And from his father? Well, a pocket knife in his hand was all he left.
Dogs howled loudly, but the devil on his shoulder kept whispering to him sweetly as Dean walked for hours, following a sandy path, golden wheat on both sides. The sun threaded on his heels, up high in the sky. That particular summer was so hot Dean wondered if he hadn’t walked all the way to Hell to roast until there was nothing left of his flesh.
At last, his eyes could make out crossroads getting closer and closer, his steps quicker now, synchronised with his heartbeat. He had no clue if he should go left or right, but a silhouette stood in the middle and so Dean decided to ask them for help. The scorching sun was about to touch the horizon when the man turned around to face him. His striking blue eyes made Dean forget to question the long black coat he wore in such unforgiving temperature.
Come to me, boy. He said, his voice smooth like aged whisky, making Dean’s head swim.
You have free will, so I can’t help you to make the choice, but I can show you the available paths. I can show you the road to fame, career, to whatever your heart desires. He spread his arms and smiled widely, before he nodded his chin to the guitar hung over Dean’s back. You could play in the best possible venues.
Dean wet his lips, wishing he hadn’t drunk all his water earlier, his dry throat begging for something to soothe it. Just like his heart. He wasn’t a man in the middle of a desert, but the person in front of him was like a tall sign directing him towards an oasis.
I warn you though, you have to think about it. Really think about it, because once you follow this path… There will be no turning back.
Well, good. Dean didn’t want to look back at the place he had once called home. To him it was nothing but a bucket that kept taking and taking from him, and the well was now almost dry.
You can have all of this, but in return…? The man bit down a smile. I need your soul.
Dean wiped at his forehead, the sweat smudging dust on his fingers. Did the devil from his shoulder finally decide to show his face? The whispers filled his head with sweet temptations and so he listened, sold his heart and gave his soul away.
The man took a step towards him and with a charcoal covered finger, he lifted Dean’s chin up. Blue eyes ripped a wound into his heart before lips were pressed to Dean’s chapped ones.
I’ll see you around.
164 notes · View notes
sofs16 · 4 months
Text
let you break my heart again—2
series link #SOF: biggest thank you to @rocksanneig for helping with the translations 🤍🤍
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“hello! ”charles said to the (y/h/c), giddy that yn came.
the big part of him knew yn would come. she was always there. but he told himself not to be too confident and maybe there was a small chance she wouldn’t come. he told himself maybe she just needed a little more time.
but there she was, standing tiredly in front of him with her pillow hanging to her side, the pillowcase charles had gotten for her was hanging in between her finger tips.
yn had been complaining about the itchiness of her pillowcase and the next day charles was handing her a bag of soft pillow cases he had bought with some of his racing money.
“salut hi” she whispered, subconsciously using french as the language whilst she shivered from the sudden wind. “come in! ” charles opened the door wider, making sure she got in before closing the door behind her. he took her other hand gently and hurried to the living room. her heart rate had quickened at his touch.
all the leclerc’s were aware of them occupying the living room, pascale made sure arthur and lorenzo wouldn’t disturb the two teens. she had always loved yn as her own daughter and wanted nothing more for them to stop fighting — maybe even a confession.
“i am very very sorry, yn. i can not apologize enough but thank you for coming.” he sat her down the couch “ouais yeah” she mumbled, still unease with her paced heart rate and the situation.
“y/n/n, dis quelque chose say something” charles sighed, nudging her after a while of silence and she shook her head “'tu sais ce qu'on dit dans le code des filles -ou le code des garçons, charles ? on met pas ses amourettes avant sa meilleure amie. you ever heard of girl code— even boy code, charles? you don’t put ‘flings’ or whatever before your best friend”
“je sais, je suis désolé- i know, i’m sorry-”
“'Non tu sais pas ! T'es même pas amoureux de Lacy. C'est qui pour toi ? La troisième fille avec qui tu sors cette année juste parce qu'elle trouve que t'es beau et qu'elle t'aime bien ? C'est pas comme ça que ça fonctionne. no you don’t know! you don’t even like lacy. what is she? your third girl of the year just because they say they think you’re hot and they like you? it doesn’t work like that.”
“Tu te mets pas avec quelqu'un parce qu'il t'aime et que tu apprécies le fait qu'on t'aime; tu te mets avec quand c'est réciproque. Ça fait souffrir l'autre personne! you don’t get with someone just because they like you and you like that someone likes you; you get with them when you actually like them. it hurts the other person!”
“i.. i am not with lacy anymore” he mumbled, fiddling with the knit blanket. she raised a brow as if she had proven her point.
‘don’t expect anything’ yn quietly reminded herself
“she broke up with me” she looks at charles. what kind of an idiot would leave him? sure, charles had his flaws, but to yn he was the only man who she considered ‘perfect’ even in his own way.
she gave charles a hug. charles always found comfort in her hugs, an indescribable feeling to him.
“i’m sorry charles but that doesn’t excuse what you did. it may be small to others but the one day i asked for us to have, you leave me waiting for hours.” she whispers
“i know, i will never do it again! i promise!” and he stood by that. “sorry about your breakup though” she mumbles, pulling away from the hug “It is okay, at least we get to spend more time together, like before!” charles smiled “got any upcoming races?” she leaned back on the couch, changing the topic. she did not want a fight, she wanted him to understand, maybe a little too naive at the time.
“one next next week.” charles leans over to open a bag of chips, offering her some. “i wish i could go but i’ve been slumped with work” yn sighs, munching on her chips “don’t worry! i’ll ask maman to video it all so we can watch it together”
“i can’t wait for you” she says with a small smile before they fall into their usual chatter, forgetting to even watch a movie.
pascale finds them both sleeping on the couch, charles embracing yn. she takes a photo of them on the polaroid camera lorenzo recently got for the family. she puts it in a memory album charles doesn’t know exists. It has pages of them growing up together.
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1 month later, october, is the peak of senior prom talk. the schools in monaco aren’t as large as others, meaning word spreads fast. charles recently got with another girl, heather, who he thinks is the one. but he’s 15, what does he know?
yn hasn’t bothered to speak about it since the last argument… rather, the lack of argument. she hangs out with charles once or twice a week and to her, that’s enough.
during a usual leclerc- yln dinner, charles mentions him going to prom with heather. the others indulge in that topic as pascale turns to look at yn. she sees the young girl looking down at her food, keeping her eyes trained on the pasta.
“what about you, yn? any cute boys?” lorenzo asks, making yn look up. charles looks at her as well.
charles hadn’t thought about that.
“um.. a few have asked but.. i didn’t really say yes” she shrugs.
“why not”
“how come”
“are you going alone?” the others push more follow-up questions. “i don’t really know... besides, shouldn’t we be talking about lorenzo’s girlfriend?” she smiles and tries to shift the conversation, which thankfully works.
ironically, the next day at school, one of the few boys yn may actually think is cute, asks her to the prom. “sure” she smiles. a little company can’t hurt anyone.
as mentioned, word travels fast in their school. hence charles storming into yn’s room at 9 in the evening. “you did not tell me” “charlie, it doesn’t hurt to knock sometimes” she says, putting on some moisturizer.
“you did not tell me you were going to prom with— what is his name? philus ?” he repeats “it’s philippe” she cocks her head to the side, setting the moisturizer down
“why did you not tell me?” “charlie, he asked me out today”
“and?” “charles, you literally just got home from your date with heather. why do you think?” she said, exasperated
“you could text me!” he bickers “why is this so important? i would have told you yesterday!” “Because we do not talk as much and I— I just want what is best for you” “And whose fault do you think that is?” she whispers
history repeats itself, another girl, another argument.
charles quietly leaves the room with a muttered apology but comes back, just as quickly, to hug her and wipe the tears away.
“stop ditching me for girls, its pathetic of me to cry over this” she mumbled in his sweatshirt “i am stupid, do not cry over me, please”
he then hasn’t understood the layers to the argument, yet again, but there was an unspoken rule to him that he couldn’t go to sleep with you two being in an argument, not again.
the next week, charles takes yn out for a joint birthday dinner. she ends up paying for it after multiple quarrels on who pays. it was his birthday, after all. she ends up giving him a bracelet she bought for him. he told her that he would never take it off.
november strolls by and charles has never been more enthusiastic for yn’s birthday. she deserved a good one. he spoiled her that day and dragged her away for a moment to give her a necklace with a friendship ring, both their initials engraved. she thanks him with a tight, bone crushing hug.
january break is spent supporting charles’ races, being present in all of them.
february, prom finally happens. it would have been much memorable to yn if she wasn’t still hung up on charles. her date was kind and good for her. charles and her would subconsciously both look at each other.
though, that night, they all get home with little giggles, yn and charles saying good night to each other as they enter their houses. and just before charles can shut the door, he notices a letter sitting under the door mat.
he picks it up, paying no mind, until he sees your name. his first thought of his, to return it to you, is stopped when he sees the stamp of oxford.
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— INSTAGRAM FILE
yn.yln.16
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liked by charles_leclerc, and 394 others
yn.yln.16 little dinner plans for birthday boy here! #16!
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charles_leclerc How come you get the good photo? ⤷ yn.yln.16 my face isnt even seen charles… you always get it at horrible times 😅
⤷ charles_leclerc I guess I will learn photography for you so you stop complaining 😝
october 16, 2013
yn.yln.16
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liked by charles_leclerc, and 502 others
yn.yln.16 Finally my favorite number!!! #16! view all 121 comments november 3, 2013
charles_leclerc
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charles_leclerc Happiest birthday to my constant, yn.yln.16! It has been a tough year for us but I always knew we would make it through! :) Thank you for always sticking by me even if I can be very stupid at times and always supporting me, you are everything to me. I love you! And also, 16 is my number 😠
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facebookmom1 Cutest couple! ❤️
yn.yln.16 charlie :,) I’m tearing up. yn.yln.16 Thank you so much !
yn.yln.16 16 Is my number! I’ve had it since we were 3, back off!
november 3, 2013
yn.yln.16
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liked by charles_leclerc, and 439 others yn.yln.16 last semester!!!!!! #senior view all 21 comments
charles_leclerc So well deserved! ❤️
january 12, 2014
yn.yln.16
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tagged: lorenzotl, arthur_leclerc, charles_leclerc, and leclerc_pascale liked by charles_leclerc, and 549 others
yn.yln.16 Boys insisted on a pre-prom drinking night to see my soda drinking tolerance😒
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leclerc_pascale 😍
charles_leclerc Nice necklace 😅🤪
⤷ yn.yln.16 Nice bracelet 😝
february 5, 2014
yn.yln.16
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tagged: philippe_1996 liked by charles_leclerc, and 683 others
yn.yln.16 Prom 🤍
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philippe_1996 Beautifulllll❤️
charles_leclerc 😍😍😍
february 9, 2014
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TAGLIST : @1655clean @uuzhanggggggg
@cmleitora @annie115
let me know if you want to be part of the list and your thoughts🤍
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darnell-la · 3 months
Text
pairing: dark!stepbro Rafe Cameron x reader
Warning: if you do not like anything to do with assault, do not read this book!
WE DO NOT CONSENT TO ANY COPIES IF OUR BOOKS!
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3rd person pov
“Where’s mom and dad?” Y/n asked Rafe after coming out of her room to the music blasting downstairs and people shouting and talking. “Gone for the weekend,” Rafe said, standing in front of y/n. She could tell he had more to say.
“Sarah?” She asked. “Out with her Pogue friends,” he said, making y/n feel away. She’s always hated the way he treated other people under him. Even her.
“Okay, well, I’ll get dressed and come down soon,” y/n said about to turn around but Rafe spoke. “No, this isn’t your party. It’s just at the house you stay at. You’re staying up here,” Rafe said, sounding very serious like he’s her father.
“Rafe, I can come downstairs if I want to. I’m old enough and I’ll snitch,” she said. “So that shit, and see what happens,” Rafe got close to y/n’s face. “You’re not even blood family. You think he’ll believe you anyways?” He genuinely asked.
“Whatever,” y/n said as she went into her room. She went to shut her door but he pushed it open because he wasn’t done talking. “Stay up here. If I see you downstairs, you’ll regret it, do you understand?” He asked.
“Whatever, Rafe,” y/n walked to her bed and sat down. “That’s what I thought,” the buzz-cut man said before slamming her door shut, almost breaking the hinges. He has no respect for her, yet wants her to respect him.
Y/n laughed to herself, knowing she’d show up downstairs in a couple of hours once he was outside relaxing and smoking with his friends.
She goes down to have a few drinks or so, maybe smoke but she won’t touch any coke. She’s not into things like that and never will be.
It’s been a good two hours, and y/n slowly got ready. She did light makeup picked a nice tight dress and slipped on her platform heels she had bought a while ago.
“Didn’t Rafe tell you not to come downstairs?” A familiar voice spoke behind y/n. The tipsy girl turned around slowly, stumbling a little at that. She started by looking at the man’s feet, seeing his expensive shoes.
Y/n trailed her eyes upwards, checking the boy's outfit out before finally getting to his face. “Hey Top,” the girl said. Topped licked his lips at the nickname she gave as she focused on his face.
“You know, he’ll kill you if he sees you down here,” Topper said, making y/n roll her eyes. “He doesn’t own me,” she said. “I don’t know about you, but everyone knows how serious Rafe is about his things. There’s no other reason for him to not let you down here,” Topper tried giving Y/n a message, but she wasn’t getting it.
“I don’t care,” y/m shrugged whatever Topper said before grabbing a bottle of alcohol and pouring it into her empty cup. “You’re not gonna mix that, princess?” Topper asked.
“I don’t mix,” the girl said before she chugged her drink. “You’re a bad one, aren’t you?” Topper asked, feeling like the step Cameron is just like the rest of the kids. Not all perfect.
“Just a normal girl,” she said as Topper got closer, now towering over her figure, making the girl feel way smaller than she actually was. “I’ve always said you were pretty. You’ve only been here for a few months and I feel things I’ve never felt before,” Topper slowly grabbed y/n’s waist.
“Oh,” she giggled as she turned so her back was up against the counter. Topper’s body pushed up against the smaller girl as he checked her whole figure out. “He’s gonna kill me,” Topper said right before he smashed his lips into y/n’s.
Y/n was initially shocked but gave in, knowing she wouldn’t go further. A kiss isn’t so bad, right? And plus, Topper is hot and from what she can see, a damn good kisser.
“Where the fuck is he!?” You could hear Rafe yell through the party. It took a few seconds for Topper to realize who it was. Someone had seen Topper and his actions and ran to tell Rafe.
“Here he comes,” Topper smirked at y/n, not caring if Rafe yelled at him tonight. He had to risk it and take advantage of y/n in this moment.
“What the fuck did you do with her!?” Rafe had approached the two and grabbed Topper, pulling him away from y/n by the front color of his expensive golf shirt.
“Nothing we all wouldn’t do, bro,” Topper said trying to keep a smart look back because he knew, Rafe would punch him right here and there and he couldn’t sue his best friend.
“Don’t fuckin’ touch her again. I already told you about that shit,” Rafe slightly spat on the boy. Topper has never seen Rafe this angry. “If I see you anywhere close to her again, I’ll drag you under the stomach of my boat until your lungs fill with water,” Rafe threatened before pushing him off.
“What’s up with you?” Y/n giggled as Rafe walked up to her. He kept his mouth shut and grabbed y/n’s arm, pulling her through the ground. If he spoke a word to her, everyone would know what kind of man he was.
“Ow, Rafe!” Y/n felt her wrist ache as he pulled her upstairs against her will. “Rafe, stop! I’m upstairs now. I won’t go back down-“ y/n spoke but got cut off by Rafe’s hand wrapping around her throat quicker than she could have imagined.
“You shut the fuck up! I gave you a chance, but you brought your ass downstairs and opened your slut legs right open for my best friend,” Rafe face began to turn red. “I didn’t open my legs, Rafe,” Y/n said, a bit hurt by what he called her.
“Oh, really? So this right here isn’t opening your legs?” Rafe asked as he began grinding on y/n. “Rafe, stop,” y/n tried pushing Rafe back by his stomach but he kept grinding as he tightened his grip on her neck.
“No, no, this isn’t opening your legs, so we’re good, right?” Rafe said as y/n fought harder. “What’s wrong now? You don’t like it all of a sudden?” Rafe asked as y/n struggled.
“Oh, but you love dry-humping my best friend in front of the whole party to embarrass me, huh? To give him what’s mine!? Is that what you did? Give up your pussy for some wannabe me?” Rafe asked in y/n’s ear.
“I-I’m not yours a-and I didn’t even fuck him, Rafe! I-I just made out with him,” y/n tried helping herself, but Rafe wasn’t having it. “Yeah, making out? Do you think that shit’s cute? You think being known as a whore is cute?” He asked.
“I’m not a whore!” Y/n yelled in his face. Seconds later, Rafe turned the girl around, disconnecting his hand around her neck to her hair. “We’ll see about that,” Rafe said as he began tugging at his belt and Jeans.
“Rafe?” Y/n asked, knowing something going wrong. “Rafe, what are you doing?” She asked. The girl stayed confused until her dress was lifted and her underwear ripped off smoothly.
“What the fu-“ y/n went to complain but Rafe pulled her face back by her hair and then slammed the side of her face into the wall. “Don’t make this worse,” Rafe tried warning her.
The girl began yelling and cussing the man out as he helped himself grow harder than he’d ever been. She began threatening him and telling him how she’ll beat his ass if he doesn’t get off of her, but he couldn’t care less abt her lies.
“Listen to me, and you wouldn’t be in this situation,” Rafe said before he thrust his cock into his step sisters cunt until his knees bucked. “No!” Her cry cracked as she placed her hands on the wall to brace herself.
“Tightest pussy I’ve been in,” Rafe growled in the poor girl's ear before thrusting his hips repeatedly against her ass. “S-Stop,” she begged, but Rafe wrapped his free hand over her mouth just so he could fuck her harder and not get caught.
“Keep your pretty ass upstairs next time, away and hidden from all these horny fucks. All they want is what I have,” Rafe’s hips moved like a dog, feeling every inch of her walls rub against his cock.
“As soon as you were introduced to me in those tight-ass jeans, I knew I had to do something about it. Can’t have my sis out here soaking another man’s cock when you’re supposed to soak mine “ Rafe dug his nails into this girl's skin, making her whimper.
“P-Please,” y/n’s words were muffled. “You’re close?” Rafe asked, feeling her walls tighten around his cock, almost causing him to cum right then and there. “What did I say?” He chuckled as his ace leaned close down her ear. “A fuckin’ whore,” he spat then began slamming into her whole, loving the way she gripped him.
Y/n cried in pain and pleasure as the knot in her stomach grew harder to hold. He knew this. He knew what he was doing to her body, and couldn’t stop. He won’t stop.
“What would they think if you got pregnant by your stepbrother? Would everyone still think you’re an innocent cute little girl? Or will they see you hoe I see you?” Rafe got into the poor girl's head as her legs started giving out in her.
“Let’s see,” he said. It didn’t take long for y/n to cum around Rafe’s cock, and didn’t take long for him to fill her up right after. He’s been dreaming about this moment for too long. Now he finally has her where he wants her.
“I-I’m on birth control,” y/n sobbed low. She’s now on the ground, legs tired while he was fixing himself up. “Hmm, maybe I’ll get that fixed, but for right now, go to your room, and don’t let me catch you downstairs again tonight,” Rafe said before walking off and downstairs with her cum stains on his shorts.
Y/n slowly got up and limped to her room, thinking to herself. She knew something would have happened if she went downstairs, but she didn’t know this. She didn’t know he was capable of something like this.
He fucked her against the wall so easily and with no remorse. He enjoyed it and fucked harder when she let out a too-loud cry.
Now she’s in her room, feeling his cum leak out of her hole in discussion. There was no way she could wash him off, and even if she did, she didn’t know that Rafe would come back again and again just to rub himself all over her just another time.
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butdaddyilovehim-hs · 7 months
Text
Stars Around My Scars: Part I
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Summary: Y/N and Harry meet by chance on the street and Harry just so happens to be Y/N's longtime crush. Sparks fly between the two but there's just one problem... Harry has a girlfriend. Featuring our favourite 1D boys and soft Harry <3
Word Count: >1k (super short to set up the story) Warnings: none
Based off this ask
"Liam you forgot the candles!” 
“They weren’t on the list Y/N.”
“But it’s a PARTY, of course we need candles?!”  Y/N rolls her eyes at her roommate who sits unbothered on the couch, stuck in the latest round of whatever new game he had bought.
 “They. Weren’t. On. The. List.”
 “Ok. Fine.” Y/N sucks in a deep breath before grabbing her keys. “I’ll go get them. You’re lucky we still have time before the party tomorrow.” 
Liam groans in response and Y/N rolls her eyes again before heading to the store. Party planning is not for the weak. She isn’t quite sure why she’s taken on such a large responsibility especially because it’s Niall’s 30th so she can’t mess it up. But he’s one of her best friends so obviously she had to throw him a party. And then her idea of a small gathering spiralled out of control and now it’s a surprise party with over 100 guests. It’s not like Liam and Louis have been much help because well… Liam would rather be doing anything else than helping her plan the decor and Louis can’t keep a secret to save his life so he doesn’t even know about the party. Y/N has over a million things to prepare before tomorrow and getting these candles was definitely not on her to do list for the day. 
She rushes out of her car and into the party store, grabbing the first packet she sees, pays for them and rushes back out to her car. However in her rush, (and due to the fact that she was looking at her phone) she slams into someone. Hard. Said someone grunts softly at the impact before reaching out a hand to steady her.
“Oh my goodness, I am so sorry I wasn’t looking where I was going, I didn’t mean to- holy shit.” 
“No worries love. You alright?” The man in front of her smiles, making sure she’s regained her footing before gently letting go of her. 
“Oh I’m fine… it’s just. Well. You’re Harry Styles.” Y/N can hardly believe her eyes. Her first thought is that his eyes are even greener in person. Her second thought is that he’s even more attractive in person and that’s saying something because he was pretty damn good looking in his pictures. And in the posters Y/N used to have (still has) on her wall. 
“That would be me. You look really familiar love. Have we met?” His voice is low and slightly raspy and it sends a flurry of butterflies to Y/N’s core. 
“Um well no. But I’m Liam’s roommate so maybe you might have seen a picture of me on his instagram or something? It’s really lovely to meet you. You’re… taller than I imagined.” Y/N wants to die. It’s like she’s forgotten how words work all of a sudden because her childhood crush is standing right in front of her and he’s smiling at her like that and Y/N doesn’t really remember how to breathe either. 
“You’ve imagined?” He sends a smirk her way and Y/N’s knees almost give out. 
“I didn’t mean it like that.” She blushes and Harry chuckles at how flustered she is. 
“Well anyway, it’s nice to properly meet you… I’m so sorry love, I don’t remember your name.” He winces as if it’s something he should have committed to memory. 
“Oh. It’s Y/N.” 
“Y/N! That’s right. Pretty name.” He tests it on his tongue and she shivers slightly. Y/N decides she only wants Harry to say her name from now on. It certainly sounds pretty coming off his lips. 
“The boys mentioned you were living in LA? What brings you to London? Just visiting or…?” 
“I’ve moved back actually. I bought a new place and my uh girlfriend and I just moved in a few days ago.” He runs a hand through his hair and Y/N can’t place the slightly sheepish expression on his face. Girlfriend. Of course he has a girlfriend. He’s Harry fucking Styles. She’s probably a model, Y/N thinks to herself. Blonde, skinny, legs for days. 
“Oh that’s… wow. I’m sure the guys will be thrilled to catch up with you. I’ll have to let them know I saw you.” Y/N offers him a weak smile. She isn’t exactly sure what she was hoping for. For him to fall in love with her on the street and whisk her off to his apartment to have his way with her? Actually that’s exactly what she was hoping for. 
“I’m throwing Niall a surprise birthday party.” She blurts out, filling the silence. 
“Oh really? It’s his 30th yeah?” 
“Yeah it is. You should come. If you like. No pressure. You could bring your girlfriend?” 
“Sure we’d love to. It’ll be nice to see the guys again.” Harry perks up at the invitation. 
“I’ll get your number off Liam and text you the details if that’s ok?” 
“Nah, I’ll give it to you now. I’ll surprise all of them by showing up.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket. He rattles off his number and Y/N quickly enters it into her phone before sending him a text so he has her number too. They say their goodbyes and Y/N finally makes it to her car, sitting in silence in slight disbelief as to what just happened. She’s staring, slightly dazed out of the window when her phone buzzes.
 (1:05pm) Harry: Send me the details! Lovely to meet you :) 
Harry Styles is texting her. 15 year old Y/N would have passed out by now and current Y/N isn’t really sure she’s got function in her limbs.
A/N: This is something just to tide you guys over until I can get part 2 of obsession out!! My laptop died on me so it's taking me a bit longer I'm afraid. BUT I adore you all for loving that series so much, and I hope you enjoy the start of this 😘
If I haven't added you to my tag list because I've missed your message or forgotten, please message me or comment! Reblogs and feedback are always appreciated xo
Tags:
@lukesaprince @harryspirate @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @lilyrmason12 @styleslover-1994 @stylesfever @kathb59 @indierockgirrl @bxbyysstuff @gills-lounge @lomlhstyles @opheliaofficial07 @stylesmoonlight12 @babyiamperfectforyou @velvetballaspark @harrys-flower @macy-tpwk @mema10 @jerseygirlinca @daphnesutton @rafaaoli @allthelovehes @lovrave @tenaciousperfectionunknown @namelesssav @hsonlyangelxo @smartcookee @laurenstears
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justagalwhowrites · 7 months
Note
HI BESTIE !!! 🫂
i was wondering how Joel would react to Doc spoiling him ROTTEN after she got that big girl money 🫦 (in the lavender au)
(because i know she will spoil him so much as a thank you for his unwavering support throughout her career 🥹)
OMG Hi Bestie!
I love this ask so so SO much. Joel is so soft with his girls and he deserves all the good things, including his wife treating him to all the best things once she's a big time surgeon.
This is just the perfect prompt for our favorite man's birthday, too! I hope this is just what you were hoping for. Love you!
Spoiled
After years of Joel taking care of you, you take care of Joel. A one shot set in the Lavender AU timeline.
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Yes I know it's not a Joel gif but it fits the fic so well I had to.
Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader (Joel and Doc from the Lavender AU)
Warnings: Fluff and smut, smut and fluff. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only.
Length: 4.4K
It started with a shopping trip in Houston for Sarah’s wedding. 
She needed a dress for the rehearsal and her bachelorette party and the malls in Austin just weren’t cutting it. 
“I’m telling you,” she said after coming up empty handed on another Saturday spent shopping as the two of you ate salads and drank sweet tea at a patio cafe. “We need to go to Houston. We haven’t found anything for you, either.”
“I can just…” you began, but Sarah cut you off. 
“Mom,” she raised her brows. “You do not get to say ‘just’ anything about my wedding, come on.” 
You rolled your eyes a little but smiled. 
“Alright,” you put your hands up in surrender. “I’ve got the weekend off again in two weeks, I’ll get us a hotel room in Houston and we can shop til we drop.” 
“I’m going to get you comfortable with spending some of those big surgeon bucks one of these days,” she said. “You need to treat yourself! Live a little!” 
“I live plenty, thank you,” you replied. “And I do it just fine in my Goodwill jeans.” 
“Whatever you say,” she smirked a little, flagging down the server and grabbing the bill before you had a chance to fight her on it. 
Sarah might have had a point. You’d been an attending for the better part of a year now and the jump in pay had been staggering. You were making more now in a year than you had your entire life - or it felt that way, anyway. You’d already made good progress paying off your student loans but you made quick work of the rest. Joel had asked if you wanted to move - something bigger or better somehow - now that you could easily afford it but you’d just frowned at him, almost hurt. 
“This is our home,” you said. “I fell in love with you here, Sarah grew up here, we made Evie here. This is the first place I ever really felt like I belonged, I don’t want to leave.” 
Joel just smiled and kissed your forehead. 
“Then we’ll stay,” he said. “Moving’s a fuckin’ hassle anyway.” 
You’d just been saving money, not really sure what to do with it. You donated some of it, stopped spending time clipping coupons, finally bought a car that was from this decade (but still used). But actually spending it made you anxious. You’d never had money before. You weren’t poor, exactly. You’d always had enough to eat and a roof over your head but you almost never bought new clothes, had never really traveled outside of places that you could easily get to by car. You were pretty sure you’d never even been in a car that wasn’t at least 10 years old before you came to college and your friend Cassie gave you a ride to the store in her new BMW. It was hard to get used to the idea that money could be spent at all, that it wasn’t already earmarked for some bill or, if there was any left, that it had to be saved for a rainy day. 
“You gotta actually spend some of that hard earned money on yourself, Baby,” Joel said as you headed outside to meet Sarah for your weekend in Houston. “Buy some ridiculously expensive dress that I’m gonna want to rip off you in seconds or some purse that’s $1,000 for reasons I don’t understand.” 
“That’s two mortgage payments,” you said, eyes wide. 
“Baby.” 
“Right, right,” you nodded. “On a mission, spend money. Got it.” 
“On yourself,” he added. “Not Sarah. Or not just Sarah, anyway. You two have fun.” 
“You too,” you said, stretching up to kiss him goodbye. “Don’t let Evie con you into giving her candy when she gets home from school.” 
“What wild thing and I get up to when you’re not around is none of your business,” he gave you one last peck on the lips. “Now go, stop worryin’, live a little.” 
The mall in Houston was almost overwhelming. Not in the crowds way malls sometimes were for you, thank goodness, but with the kinds of stores. There were names you recognized from Cassie’s closet and from some of the trust fund girls in your med school program but you realized quickly you had no concept of what things like this actually cost. 
Sarah picked a dress for the rehearsal that was nearly $600 and you choked on the champagne the sales person had given you to sip while Sarah tried on options. 
“You really buy $600 dresses?” You gaped at her as you wandered back into the store from the dressing rooms. 
“Not all the time,” she shrugged. “But we make good money and sometimes it’s fun to buy something nice.” 
She held up a floor length gown to you, the bottom pooling on the ground. 
“That’s too long,” you said. 
“Well we’d get it tailored,” she laughed a little. “Come on, try it on.” 
Another sales person wandered over and offered to set up a fitting room and you snuck a peek at the price tag. Your eyes went wide. 
“That dress is $1200!” You whispered at Sarah as you trailed after the attendant. 
“And it’s for my wedding,” she replied. “And don’t you have that gala thing every spring for work? You can wear it for that, you need a new dress for that anyway. Plus I’m the bride and I say you have to try it on. You can’t disappoint the bride.” 
You sighed and went into the fitting room, feeling utterly out of place in your second hand Levis and vintage top you’d picked up on a shopping trip a few weeks back that felt much more your speed. 
But the dress - outside of the length - looked like it had been made for you. The silk hugged your every curve, the neckline dipping just low enough to display just enough cleavage to be sexy but not so much that it would be scandalous. It was simple, no embellishments beyond the structure of the dress and the deep emerald green of the fabric. Normally you’d have scoffed at something so basic fetching such a high price but, now that it was on your body, you understood it. It was like you’d put on a work of art and, in doing so, become art yourself. 
“OK you can’t laugh,” you said. “But I’m coming out.” 
Sarah was waiting patiently in the little show room attached to your fitting room and you had to hold up the hem of the dress to not trip but she gasped all the same. 
“Oh Mom,” her hand went to her mouth, her eyes wide. “You look incredible.” 
“Yeah?” You asked, turning in the mirrors to look at yourself from every angle. “I don’t look like I’m playing dress up?” 
“Not at all,” she spoke with almost a sense of reverence, looking you up and down. “You’re getting that dress. I’ll buy it for you if you won’t…” 
“No, Sarah,” you protested but she pulled out her phone and snapped a picture before you had a chance to really realize what she was doing. “What was that for?” 
“I’m sending this to Dad…” her voice trailed off and she took a sip of champagne just as her phone rang. She smirked and answered, putting it on speaker phone. “Speak of the devil. Hey old man, your wife is trying to tell me this dress costs too much.” 
“I don’t care if that dress costs $200,000 she’s bringing it home,” Joel said. “She hear me?” 
“Yes,” Sarah smiled, a shit eating grin if there ever was one. 
“Good,” he said. “Baby, you look so damn amazing I’m about to jump in the truck and drive over there just to see you in that thing in person sooner. Save me a trip, bring it home, alright?” 
“Alright,” you sighed. 
“Didn’t quite hear that,” Joel said. 
“I said alright you dork,” you said a little, grinning in spite of yourself. 
“That’s my girl.” 
You bought the dress. And a bag that Sarah insisted you needed for work because she was tired of seeing you haul around a canvas tote. And shoes for the dress. 
When you passed the jeweler window, you were on the way to the car after spending so much money you were surprised you hadn’t fainted. You stopped, the hanger with the garment bag for the dress hooked in your fingers over your shoulder, and looked at the watch sitting in the window. 
It was large and silver but not too ornate, no diamonds or anything like that. The face of the watch was black with elegant white roman numerals on the face. 
“What?” Sarah asked, stopping next to you. 
“Do you think your dad would like that?” You asked, head cocked a little, still looking at the timepiece through the glass. 
“Yeah,” Sarah said after a moment. “Seems like a him watch, if he were going to wear a nice watch, anyway.” 
Joel did already have a watch. A simple one with a green strap and silver colored case and a black face. You and Sarah had picked it out together for his birthday one year. She’d been giddy about it, you had to all but beg her to keep it a secret for a few days until it came time to give it to him. He loved the thing, wore it every day, even more than a decade later. 
But your career wasn’t the only one that had advanced. Joel was no longer doing the manual labor of a contractor every day. More often than not, he was going to meet with clients and arrange contracts and make plans. For a lot of those meetings, he wore a suit and, for a lot of those meetings, you saw him stick his watch in his pocket before leaving the house instead of putting it on. 
“Hard sometimes,” he said when you’d asked him about it. “Fittin’ in with these clients.” 
“Let me just…” you doubled back to the entrance to the store and went inside. 
The watch was more than you thought it would be. A lot more. So, so much more. You watched as the sale’s person’s eyes went from encouraging and hopeful to let down when you reacted to the price. 
“One second,” you smiled sheepishly and pulled out your phone, going into your banking app. Even after spending an arm and a leg on yourself that day, the number in your personal checking account seemed obscenely high. More money than you’d ever had at once until very, very recently. You could afford the watch. You looked at the sales person and smiled. 
“I’ll take it.” 
You had several very strong cocktails when out to dinner with Sarah that night to make yourself feel a little better about spending thousands of dollars on things like clothes and a watch and she just smiled. 
“See, Mom? You spent some money on yourself and the apocalypse did not happen, I think you can actually buy yourself things from time to time.” 
“And things for your dad,” you said. “Because he needs nice things, too.” 
When you got home, Joel insisted that you model the dress for him. 
“It needs to be tailored,” you tried to protest. 
“Not for me to take it off you it doesn’t,” he smiled from his spot on the couch, beer in hand. 
“Fine,” you said. “But only if you let me model everything I bought and you can’t return any of it.” 
“Deal.” 
You went to your bedroom and put on the dress and the shoes and took the watch out of the bag, the face almost comically large on your wrist, before going back to the living room, hem of the dress in hand. 
“Jesus Christ Baby,” he looked at you, his eyes wide. “You look… fuck me.” 
“That is the idea,” you winked. “You like it?” 
“Like is a fuckin’ understatement,” he said, getting up and walking around you slowly, his eyes going up and down your body. “You know, Evie’s at a friend’s for two more hours…” 
“So you’re not going to make me return anything I have on?” You asked. 
“Fuck no.” 
“Not this dress?” You started unzipping the side before sliding the straps down your arms. 
“Dress stays,” he said, gently tugging it down and exposing your chest, kissing the swell of your breasts. 
“What about the shoes?” You asked, putting a sandaled foot out from below the hem. He glanced down, eyes ranging over the straps. 
“Those stay, too,” he said, going back to kissing your chest. “Everything you’ve got on stays, already agreed to that.” 
“Good,” you said as he made it to your neck. “Even this?” 
You held up your wrist, the watch sliding down your arm. 
He frowned, looking at it. 
“Don’t look like you’re style,” he said. “But if it makes you happy, Baby, keep it.” 
“Never said it was for me, Joel,” you smiled a little. You watched him piece it together, taking a moment for him to dawn on him. 
“No,” he shook his head, looking from your arm to your face. “No, you were supposed to get stuff for yourself for a change not…” 
“I did get stuff for me,” you said. “And I got this for you. Because you’re wearing suits more now and I wanted you to have the watch for that. So really, it is for me.” 
He took your wrist gently in one hand, elbow in the other, tilting your arm this way and that to look at the watch in different lights. 
“Baby, this…” he shook his head again. “This is too much, this is…” 
“Not for you,” you cut him off. “Not after everything you’ve given me. This is not enough. But it’s a start. Besides, you said I got to keep everything I was wearing. You already agreed to it, Miller.” 
“Baby,” he sighed. 
“Joel,” you smiled a little. “You’re my husband. Let me give you something nice. Please.” 
He brought the inside of your wrist to his lips and kissed you there, making your pulse flutter against his mouth. 
“Already gave me the best thing there is,” he said. “Anything more feels like I’m stealin’ it.” 
“Steal whatever you want, Miller,” you teased. “But you’re keeping the watch.” 
Joel ended up wearing the watch often. Not as much as the Sarah watch - and he stuck with the Sarah watch for her wedding - but at least once a week for meetings where he needed to dress up for. Every time you gave him a little knowing smile and every time he rolled his eyes a little before kissing you goodbye. But you had yet to get him to accept anything like it in the years since, Joel trying to dodge everything every time you spent money on him. 
So when his birthday was around the corner, you were bound and determined to get him something good. 
“Anything you want for your birthday?” You asked as you, Joel and Ellie wandered around a street fair, meandering towards the car show. “Anything you want to do?” 
“S’not like it’s a big one,” he shrugged. “Just 56. Would love to see all my girls, of course. Could use some new tongs for the grill.” 
“Tongs?” Ellie said, brows raised. “Seriously? Old people are so WEIRD.” 
“You know what kiddo?” Joel smiled a little, faking exasperation. “We’ll see how you’re doin’ when you’re pushin’ 60.” 
“Ew,” she crinkled her nose and wandered to the first car in the row of vehicles on display. You laughed, strolling along with Joel until he stopped at a beautiful old convertible, giving a low whistle. 
“What?” You asked. 
“Just a pretty fuckin’ car,” he said, his hands in his pockets as he walked slowly around it. “Always wanted one of these when I was a kid.” 
“Yeah?” You asked, getting an idea. 
“Neighbor had one,” he nodded. “Let me ride in the back once. Coolest fuckin’ car.” 
He looked over every inch of the thing and Ellie caught up with you while he did, pouting a little as she leaned on the door of the car, her chin propped on her folded arms. 
“I’m starving,” she groaned. “Can I go get some fries at least?” 
“Sure,” you laughed a little, pulling some cash out of your pocket. “Grab me a lemonade, too?” 
You watched as she went to the food stands and you and Joel moved on, walking slowly down the row of cars when Ellie caught up with you again, passing you the lemonade. Joel stole a fry from her cup. 
“Hey!” She protested. “Go get your own!” 
“Might have to,” he said, giving her a wink. “Back in a sec.” 
You waited until he was out of earshot before you grabbed Ellie. 
“Do me a favor,” you said. “That car we were looking at? The blue one? Can you go talk to the owner and find out what make, model and year it is?” 
“I guess,” she frowned. “Why?” 
“Because,” you said. “I found something your dad wants besides tongs.” 
You went and stood in line with Joel, keeping him distracted while Ellie did recon. She took some pictures of the car and texted you all the information which you texted to Andrew as Joel drove home from the fair. 
“Can you help me find this car?” You asked him. “One that’s for sale?”
“Becoming a collector?” He texted back. 
“Joel’s birthday,” you added a smilie face emoji. 
“Excellent,” he replied. “I’ll find you something, don’t worry.” 
It took a few weeks but Andrew found the car. A blue 1967 Mustang Convertible that was being sold down in San Antonio. He went down with you to help you test drive it - you didn’t know a damn thing about cars - and you bought it on the spot. 
“He’s going to freak the fuck out,” Andrew said, driving it home since you couldn’t drive stick. “Seriously, you might give the man a heart attack…” 
You rolled your eyes but laughed all the same. 
“I really hope he loves it,” you said, running your fingers over the dash. 
“I’ll take it off your hands if he doesn’t,” Andrew smiled. “Just don’t tell Jess.” 
Tommy agreed to store the car in his garage until Joel’s party at his house in two weeks and you were giddy as you drove home, feeling like a kid at Christmas as you tried to keep the car a secret. 
By the time the party rolled around, even Ellie was excited and having a hard time holding it together. 
“It’s really just a cookout at Tommy’s,” Joel said as the three of you piled in the car to head over. “Not sure why you two are actin’ like we’re going to fuckin’ Six Flags…” 
“Tommy’s cooler than you,” Ellie said. “Nice to spend time with someone who isn’t a total dinosaur…” 
“Alright, in the car kiddo,” Joel smiled and shook his head a little. “Can’t take you anywhere ’til seatbelts are on, let’s go!” 
You texted Tommy that you were on the way and he responded with a picture of the car, shiny in his driveway with a big, red bow on the hood. 
“He’s going to lose his mind, Kid,” he texted back. “Please tell Maria I want this same treatment when I’m old.” 
“Better put in some work to deserve it, Miller,” you replied, smiling a little. 
Joel parked on the street, frowning at the car in Tommy’s driveway. 
“When the hell’d Tommy get a Mustang?” He got out, his frown deepening. You almost laughed. 
“He didn’t,” you smiled, so big it was like your face was going to crack. 
Joel looked confused for half a moment before his mouth dropped open in shock. 
“No,” he shook his head. Ellie leaned between the front seats, grinning hugely, “No, no that’s… Baby. No.” 
“Suck it up, old man,” Ellie smirked as Sarah and Brandon came out of the house, little Carson making a beeline for the car. Sarah and Brandon waved as Tommy and Maria joined them in the yard. Ellie pulled the keys out of her pocket and dangled them between you and Joel. He took them, staring at them in his hand for a second.
“Should take it before I do,” Tommy hollered and you laughed as you got out of the car and followed an almost dazed Joel toward the Mustang. 
He walked, in awe, around the car twice. 
“I…” he said but stopped, staring at the convertible for a moment. “I don’t….” 
“Do you like it?” You asked, coming up beside him and wrapping your arms around his waist. 
“Fuckin’ love it,” he said, immediately looking at you. “But Baby, this is too much, way too much, I can’t…” 
“Yes you can,” you smiled up at him. He looked down at you, the awed expression still on his face. “After everything you’ve done for me? For us? Everything you’ve sacrificed, all the ways you take care of me and our girls? The life you gave me? Still not enough, Joel. Not for you.” 
He pulled you tight to him and kissed the top of your head. 
“I love you,” he said, his voice wet. “So goddamn much, Baby.” 
Tommy set up chairs and a table in the front yard so everyone could sit near the car while celebrating Joel. He kept looking over at it in disbelief before looking at you with eyes filled with gratitude and wonder. You couldn’t remember the last time your heart felt quite so full. 
You drove Ellie home, following slowly behind Joel in the new convertible. 
“OK I know what this shit means,” Ellie said, gesturing between you and Joel after you got home, your husband clutching you to his side. “Try to keep it down and not be gross about it because ugh.” 
“Was actually going to see if you wanted to take the car for a spin,” you smiled up at Joel. “Just you and me. Assuming Ellie will behave herself and actually go to bed at a reasonable time.” 
“Anything to get away from whatever that is,” Ellie said, smiling a little as she went to her room. You laughed. 
“So,” you said, once she closed the door to her room. You looked up at Joel, smiling. “Care to take me for a ride, Mr. Miller?” 
He grinned.
“Whatever you say, Mrs. Miller.” 
He took you through town slowly, down quiet side streets filled with sleeping people and past businesses that had closed for the night, until the two of you ended up at a large park on the edge of town where things were a little darker and you could see some of the stars. 
“I can’t believe you got me a car, Baby,” he said, his hands running over the steering wheel. His smile was so big you could see it even in the dim light of the moon. “It’s really…” 
“If you say it’s too much again, Joel, I will go and buy you a second one on principle.” 
He laughed at that. 
“I was gonna say it was the best gift I’ve ever gotten,” he said, turning to look at you. “Besides you and the girls of course.” 
“Oh, of course,” you smiled. 
He leaned in and kissed you gently. 
“Not sure what I did to deserve you,” he said. “But I sure am grateful for it.” 
Your kiss shifted and you started climbing over the center console, Joel taking a second to move his seat all the way back. You bunched your skirt around your hips and settled over him, kissing him harder, more eager. 
“I’m pretty damn grateful for you,” you whispered against his mouth, his hands going to your hips. You ground down on him and he moaned, pressing his hard length up against you through his jeans. “And I think the birthday boy should get laid in his dream car.” 
“Dream car,” he said, kissing you. “Dream woman.” He kissed you again. “Perfect fuckin’ birthday.” 
You unzipped his fly as you kissed him and tucked your panties to the side, notching his cock against your entrance. He moaned as you sank slowly down onto him, taking all of him inside of you, savoring how he filled you. 
You started slowly, just grinding him deeper into you as you kissed him, his tongue licking into your mouth. 
“You feel fuckin’ amazing Baby,” he moaned, kissing down your throat until he reached your breasts, cleavage bared in your v-neck top. “Always feel so damn good…” 
He was thrusting up into you, trying to set his own pace, and you decided to allow that, matching him stroke for stroke as he groaned below you. His hands ranged up your back, pawing at your shirt until be was able to raise it enough to slide below it and get at your skin with a satisfied moan. He clutched you close, so close that you could hardly move over him anymore. Instead, he fucked up into you, making you whimper and your channel tighten around him. 
“C’mon Baby,” he grunted, voice strained. “Want you to come for me. All I want now is you to come for me, come all over me, fuck Baby…” 
You bit down on his shoulder to keep quiet, the sounds of crickets and cicadas on the air as you came, your sex throbbed around him. You whimpered against him as you came down from your high and he kept working you, his grip on you tightening. 
“Fuck Baby,” he gasped. “Feel too good, I’m gonna… fuck… I’m…” 
He cut himself off with a groan, thrusting deep and filling you, his grip on you relaxing enough that you could sit up a little. You looked at him in the moonlight his eyes closed, a blissed out look on his face. You smiled a little, brushing his more unruly curls back from his forehead. 
“I love you so much, Baby,” he smiled a little, eyes still closed. 
“So I did alright for your birthday?” You teased lightly, his softening cock still buried inside you. 
He laughed. 
“Did perfect,” he tugged you close enough that he could kiss you again, careful to not push you back against the horn. “Perfect fuckin’ birthday, perfect fuckin’ woman, perfect fuckin’ wife.” 
“Good,” you smiled, kissing him. “You deserve it, Joel. You deserve the world.” 
203 notes · View notes
klausysworld · 1 year
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can you make a fluffy klaus imagine where he takes reader on a shopping trip to designer stores and spoils her and the reader sheepishly tells him that he doesnt have to do so much which makes him spoil her more thx
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I enjoy spoiling you
Klaus has been encouraging me to pick out as many different outfits as possible. Since we had been together he was nothing but eager to throw his money at me but I wasn’t exactly used to this kind of spending and the price tags were making me feel sick.
I nervously checked how much the little sundress that had caught my eye was. My lips parted in surprise, i could get the exact same looking dress for £12 in a different shop. I quickly walked away back to Klaus, his arm circling me instantly and pulling me close
“Did you find something you like?” He asked softly with a smile and i shook my head timidly
“I don’t think i need anything else, we’ve already gotten loads” i told him glancing at the man who was carrying our things, apparently it was his job and Klaus would be paying him
“Sweetheart you’ve barely chosen anything, remember you can pick anything you like, formal, casual, you can get some pyjamas too?” His voice was encouraging and i felt silly, like a child. He must’ve noticed my frown as he took my face in his hands
“I want you to be happy and comfortable love, i enjoy spoiling you, i never know what to spend my money on, let me buy you something to make you smile” he kissed my lips gently before pulling away and petting my hair
“Klaus, i like that you want me to be happy but i can be comfy in much cheaper clothes- even if it’s just a but cheaper! But please don’t spend a ridiculous amount on a summer dress” I practically begged and he glanced over my shoulder
“That one over there?” He asked and I followed his eye line and nodded reluctantly. Straight away i was being pulled to where it was, his arm around my waist nearly dragging me as I protested that i didn’t want it. He checked the price and picked it up passing it to the man for the ‘buying’ pile
“Klaus-“
“Hush love let me” he muttered and kissed me again to silence me
“But-“
“You’ll look gorgeous in your new outfits” he whispered
“Can we go home now?” I asked shyly
“Without accessories? Of course not love, Rebekah may scream. Now tell me would you rather be shopping with me or my sister?” I blinked at him for a second. Rebekah would have me trying everything on and buying the entire shop
“You…” I uttered and he nodded
“Exactly, now come we have many other shops in this area, we can drive anywhere you’d like” his eyes were hopeful and i nodded slowly
“Okay but this can’t be a regular thing” he grinned like the cheshire cat and hurried me to the till
“Special occasions- an average Tuesday whatever you like, for today just see what you like and you can have it”
I found myself smiling at him as he brought me to the many jewellery shops, i managed to convince him to try on a range of brightly coloured necklaces- tiaras and such. Eventually we got home and i collapsed on his bed with a groan
“My feet hurt” I muttered and he breathed a laugh as he slid my shoes off for me
“How about we try the new bath salts we bought? Then you can get into your fluffy clothes” he lifted me up as he dug through one of the bags to grab the salts
“We didn’t buy anything, it was all you” I reminded
“My money is your money now my love, that is why you have this-“ he tucked a black card into my hand and i gaped up at him, still held bridal style in his arms
“No-“
“Yes”
“But-“
“But yes”
“What if-“
“Just say yes” he breathed with a toothy grin
“I’ll just say okay and slip it back to you later” i mumbled and he growled in his throat
“I can be very creative in ways i get you to accept this” he whispered to my ear and a shiver ran down my spine
“Is that a threat?” I asked and he hummed
“Don’t worry love, it’s one you will most certainly enjoy”
(Wish he would shower me in money ngl)
756 notes · View notes
darkbluekies · 1 year
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Just found your account, love it, now am gonna spam with asks about your OC’s hope you don’t mind <333
First of all, how would your character’s be with a reader who likes being babied and receiving the Princess treatment? Like reader just loves being spoiled and pampered and taken care of
(Can I be 🦇 anon?)
[Absolutely you can be!! And spam away, I saw the other asks I'm working on them too!! Welcome <33]
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Silas: 
He’d often joke that he is your sugar daddy, but he’d never complain. You will of course get whatever you want. He locks you in the bedroom for most part of the day, the least he can do is to make sure you have whatever you could ever need. Silas, being the busy man he is, wouldn’t have the time to pamper you physically, but he’d try to make up for it with his money. When he comes to bed during the night, he’d hold you in his arms and give your forehead kisses. 
“Do you like it when I call you ‘my little baby’? You do? Then I’ll do it more often from now on. My spoiled little baby who loves to be treated like royalty. You need me to do everything for you. And I will.”
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Dr Kry:
The whole reason behind why he even poisoned your air purifier from the start is because he wants you dependent on him and to never leave the hospital, so he’d feel more than happy if you wanted him to take care of you. He has quite some money because he works so much and never spends it, but he’d still spoil you with books, food and other things to keep you occupied during your long stay. He’d even buy you a Switch and games. As we know, Dr Kry isn’t the biggest fan of physical affection, but he’d baby you with his voice, talking to you as if you were a little child. He'd pat your mouth dry with a napkin after eating and brush your hair for you.
“You’re a little princess/prince, aren’t you? Getting everything you want. But it’s not your fault that you have to stay here against your will, so I’m not annoyed by it. Besides, I like reading for you and playing games with you … so it benefits me too.”
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King Edmund:
He doesn’t expect anything else. You are the queen after all. You should get everything you want and be treated like royalty. He loves to baby you and treat you like a precious little diamond. You love to be babied. Perfect match.
“You want another necklace? The same one? A similar one? Okay, I’ll get it for you, my sweet queen. Anything else you’d like? New clothes? More jewels for your wonderful tiara? Just name it and I’ll give it to you, my dear. You want a kiss? Then come here!”
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Jerry:
Baby you? Never. Treat you like a princess/prince? Maybe. Spoil you? Absolutely. Jerry loves to show how you can only survive as long as she’s here. Her plan is that the more she buys you, the more in debt to her you’ll be and if you ever leave … you will never be able to pay her back. You’re trapped in her world, strangled by expensive necklaces and chained by fancy bracelets. If you enjoy it, it’ll only give Jerry more motivation to pull you deeper down into her twisted wonderland. 
“Here you go, baby doll. I thought it’d fit you. Yes, I know it’s bold, but I like that. I saw it while I was out and I thought it’d look good on you. Don’t show it to anyone else though. It’s meant to be hidden and only shown to me, got it? I will know if anyone sees you in this, trust me. I'll see you tonight ...”
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Hedwig:
She’s rich. That’s all that needs to be said. She loves spending money on you and treats you like her own little baby. Everyday is a birthday for you. She has either baked you pastries, bought something for you or given you money for something you’re saving up for. During class, you lean onto her shoulder when you get bored and during the evenings when you’re at her house, you let her play with your hair and shower you in kisses. 
“My pretty Y/N. You love being taken care of, don’t you? I love taking care of you. What was that? You want a massage? Absolutely, let me give you one.”
468 notes · View notes
angelbaby-fics · 2 years
Note
stucky x little!reader
What if during the night someone breaks into their home…daddies were up anyway in the bedroom with little one that was sleeping in their bed. but when they hear the commotion downstairs, it wakes up little one and she starts tearing up because she’s scared….but one of the daddies goes to call back up while the other one stays behind to calm little one down…
You can do really whatever you want with this story 🤍
Safe Room
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Word Count: 2k
Pairing: Mob!Stucky x Little!Reader
Warning: Slightly darker than my usual fics due to the mob AU! Nothing too scary I hope!!
A/N: Sorry I changed it up a little!! :O if you want something closer to your original request I’d be happy to write it!! This is just what came to me while I was writing so I went with it lol <3 I'm very excited to see The Gray Man soon and it inspired me to try writing some Mob!Stucky, a trope I love but have never written before!! Also the paci is a reference one I just bought from @princeminnow and I highly recommend you guys check out his blog! Anyways, I hope you all enjoy!!
You had your own bedroom, painted your favorite color with a big comfy bed and lots of blankets. Shelves lined the walls, filled to the brim with stuffies and toys, as well as your ever expanding collection of little gear. The closet doors almost couldn’t close over the amount of both practical clothing and dress up costumes you had. Despite all this, however, your bedroom was not your favorite room in the house. It’s not that you weren’t thankful or that you didn’t like it - you loved it after all! But if you got to choose, you’d spend every moment you could in Steve and Bucky’s room, engulfed in their scent and aura. 
That's where you found yourself on this particular night, one hand tangled up in Bucky’s fingers, the other around your stuffy. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep there, only meaning to get some evening cuddles while Bucky read his book, but when your eyes started to feel heavy, you didn’t fight it. Your mouth hung open, having fallen asleep without a paci, and Bucky didn’t want to risk waking you by getting up to get you one. Besides, Steve would be home any minute now, and not only could he go retrieve a pacifier for you, but would also get the treat of seeing you curled up with Bucky. He needed it after the day he’d had. 
Bucky heard Steve unlock the door and hoped he’d enter quietly, but when the closing of the door was followed by a harshly whispered curse word, Bucky immediately knew something was wrong. He heard Steve climb the stairs, two or three at a time, as fast as he could towards the bedroom. Steve didn’t even have time to take in the adorable sight in front of him, nor Bucky the time to ask Steve what was wrong. Steve scooped you up as gently as he could, hoping not to wake you. If the change in position didn’t wake you, he feared his rapid heartbeat or the quake in his voice would.
“Someone’s in the house.” He said quietly, hoping to convey the urgency of the situation to Bucky as quickly as possible. “We need to get her to the safe room now.”
Bucky nodded, immediately getting up out of bed and crossing the room to the closet where he kept some weapons. 
“You take her, keep her calm. I’ll take care of this.” Bucky said in his stubborn way.
“No, they already know I’m here, they don’t need to know anyone else is home.” Steve replied, trying to hand you to Bucky.
“I’m not letting you face this alone.”
“We can’t leave her alone!” Steve countered, knowing Bucky couldn’t argue with that.
Bucky took you from Steve’s arms, grateful that you hadn’t woken up in all the commotion yet.
Then a crash came from downstairs. Your face scrunched up as you debated whether the noise was worth waking up over, but another curse word from Steve’s lips made your eyes shoot open. 
“Daddy what?” You muttered, voice heavy with sleep. 
“Shhh angel, everything’s alright,” Steve whispered to you, “just go back to sleep babydoll.” 
You wrapped your arms around his neck, clinging onto him as the commotion downstairs continued.
“Daddy what’s goin on?!” You cried, starting to panic.
Bucky and Steve exchanged a glance.
“Take her. I’ve got this.” Bucky said, coldly and quietly so as to express his urgency to Steve without scaring you further. Steve nodded as Bucky got dressed, hiding a gun in his waistband.
“Hey honeybear, we’re gonna go on a little late night adventure, okay? But you gotta stay really quiet and be a good girl for Daddy, alright?”
You knew Steve well enough to know that he was trying his hardest. Even though he protected you from the truth, the big part of your brain knew that your daddies dealt with dangerous people. Even though they kept their business as far from you, their little girl, as they could, you still noticed every time one of them came home with a black eye or blood on their shoe. You learned it was best not to question it. And even though Steve focused every cell in his body to keep you calm, you knew even in your sleepy little state that whatever was going on was very, very bad. 
You stayed quiet, just as Steve commanded, but you couldn’t stop the tears filling your eyes and dripping down your face. You were too scared to even sniffle as Steve ran through the halls of your big house, pressing you into his chest so hard it almost hurt. Steve stopped at a bookshelf, in which room you couldn’t tell as all the lights in the home had been turned off. He checked his surroundings to make sure the two of you hadn’t been followed before tugging on the edge of a book and pulling the hinged bookcase away from the wall. He hurried inside with one arm holding you to him and the other shutting the secret door as quietly as possible. Once he heard it latch, he pressed a code into the number pad on the wall and continued through the snaking hidden hallways of the house. He reached a sturdy locked door, punched in the code for that one as well, and once inside, attempted to set you down. But you weren’t having that. 
Your breathing turned to panting as you desperately clung to Steve’s torso like a koala. 
“Shhh baby it's okay. You’re safe now, I promise.” He said softly to you, rubbing his large hands up and down your back in an attempt to soothe you.
You looked up at him with giant, terror-filled eyes before he realized what you were likely thinking.
“It's alright, honey, nobody can hear us from in here. It’s soundproofed.” He reassured you.
You slowly stopped fighting him, allowing yourself to be set down on the ground. You looked around with wet eyes at this room you hadn’t even known existed. The walls were painted a calming lavender, and though the room was small, there was a big comfy couch and a plush rug on the floor. A shelf against the wall held books, a radio, and a collection of movies, presumably to be played on the large TV on top of a chest of drawers against other wall. Steve guided you gently to the couch, pulling a giant cozy blanket off the arm and wrapping it around you.
“Please Daddy, what’s happening?” You asked, choking on the sobs you’d been stifling since you’d heard him swear.
“Oh sweetie. Daddy accidentally brought a bit of work home with him, didn’t he? Silly Daddy, huh?” He joked, hoping to cheer you up at least a little bit considering the circumstances, but you continued crying. 
“But thankfully, Baba is being really brave, and he’s gonna fix it all while you and I hang out down here, alright?”
“Is Baba gonna be okay?” You asked, trembling.
“Oh, of course baby. You know how strict Baba can get when you break the rules? Well he’s gonna use his scary voice to make these men go back home.”
Big you knew better; big you knew Bucky was down there killing those men, those men who had likely come to kill him, or Steve, or worse. But little you didn’t have to worry about that. As far as little you would ever know, these men had really come just to talk. Steve’s explanation calmed you down enough that he was no longer afraid you’d pass out from hyperventilation.
“How long is it gonna take?” You asked.
“I don’t know, baby. Hopefully not long. But look! Baba and I filled this room with tons of activities for whenever we need to come play down here!” Steve pointed towards the shelf, and upon closer look you noticed that all the books and movies were for little kids like you. The bottom shelf even held a stack of coloring books and a box of art supplies. As much as you loved to craft and color, you shook your head before nuzzling back into Steve’s chest.
“Oh, I understand, baby. It’s a lot right now, isn’t it? And it’s way past your bedtime! Now hang on, I know I put some in here somewhere…” He muttered the last bit to himself as he rose from the couch, with you still attached to him. He strode over to the drawers under the TV, opening one, the other, and finally finding a collection of brand new paci’s in the third drawer he checked. Your eyes lit up, you hadn’t even realized you’d been without your comfort item for so long.
“Check that out angel,” Steve smiled. “Every time you come down here, you get to pick a new paci to use. You like that?”
You nodded softly before pointing to a blue paci featuring an illustration of a big daddy bear hugging a little baby bear.
“Like me an’ you…” You whispered as Steve picked it up and popped it into your mouth, unable to resist pinching your chubby cheek, and you giggled. Steve carried you back over to the couch, intending to cuddle you as long as you needed him too and then even longer after that. But just as soon as he lowered the two of you onto the overstuffed cushions, Steve’s phone rang in his pocket. You tightened your grip around him slightly, looking up with wide eyes as he fished the phone from his pants. “It’s just my phone, baby, look.” He said, holding up the screen with Bucky’s contact photo displayed on it. “Baba calling?” You asked around your paci, reaching up at the phone.
“I’m gonna answer it first, okay? And then you can talk to him, is that alright? Can you be patient for Daddy?” He asked, and you nodded solemnly, playing with the hem of the blanket while Steve answered the phone. 
Even if you could make out the words on the other end of the line, you doubt you could have made sense of them considering the state you were in at the moment. 
“I love you too. See you in a minute.” Steve finally spoke, before hanging up the phone. You gasped. “I wanted to talk to Baba!” You said, beginning to tear up, but Steve scooped his arms around you and picked you back up. 
“You can, angel, in just a minute! He said the coast is clear, we can go back out and see him now.” He said, walking you towards the door, and he felt you tense around his body. 
“‘S it safe now, Daddy?” You asked cautiously. 
“It is, baby, I promise.” Steve replied, unlocking the sturdy door and carrying you out into the long passageways within the house.
“Pay attention to this, baby, I need to make sure you can come down here by yourself if you need to.” Steve commanded, and then sensing your anxiety rising again, he added “Don’t worry, angel, it's just in case. Daddy and Baba will try to be with you always.”
You watched your path, taking note of how many turns there were and when to take them, before you and Steve reached the back of the bookcase door. 
“This is the password, baby, see?” He demonstrated putting the numbers into the keypad, the code was your birthday, which made you smile. The door opened to reveal Bucky on the other side.
“Baba!!” You cried, reaching out towards him.
“Hey angel,” Bucky smiled, accepting you into his arms while Steve embraced the two of you, your little family at long last reunited after a brief but stressful night. 
When Steve pulled apart from you, he turned to the door, shutting it behind him. He placed his hand on a book and looked you in the eye.
“If you ever have to go down there, you pull on this book, alright?” He said, and when you squinted your eyes against the dim hallway, you noticed it was a book of your favorite fairy tales. Of course it was.
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