#so I wasn't sure how to go about the first one of this

[coff33andb00ks]

Rule Breaker - Pt 1

max verstappen x single mom!reader face claim: none, random pinterest find warnings: cursing, max is broody, jos is an asshole, fluff, barely proofread, idk red bull team aside from Max, Checo, and Horner... (y/n's bestie is named after my irl bestie bc she told me to write this, and y/n's son is not named after Magnussen i swear) Summary: Max has it all...right? Besides, he's too busy collecting trophies and completing side quests for anything else. Until... You moved across a whole ass ocean to start over, uprooting you and your son's lives to become social media admin for cars that drive in circles. word count: 4293 auth.note: hiii new to writing for f1 so I'm posting this in the middle of the night and hiding in bed - feedback greatly appreciated. also this is forbidden love/he falls first/friends to enemies to lovers

"Hey Max, come meet the new social media admin."

On his way out, he barely heard the words. But they registered and he immediately turned, knowing how important it was to have a good rapport with the social media personnel. He only had to meet them, then he could leave and go to the team apartment and… He didn't know. Pass time in his sim until he couldn't hold his eyes open. Maybe he'd go for a run until he was close to exhaustion. Or see if Lando was in the country and they could go out together. It was only when he was about to pass out that he was able to sleep and not be plagued with dreams.

His eyes swept the small office, swiveling to focus on the new face. She smiled, giving him a little wave as she set down her slice of pizza.

"Max, this is y/n. Y/n, this is Max."

"Hello," he said, watching as she wiped her mouth with a napkin.

"Hi, sorry." She took a sip of her drink and wiped her mouth again. "Sorry – It's so great to meet you."

She was American. Walking over, he extended his hand. "Where are you from?"

Shaking his hand, she smiled up at him. "Well most recently I was with—"

"No, no, where in America," he corrected.

"Oh! North Carolina. I try to keep the country accent to a minimum but sometimes I slip up." She motioned to the pizza box on the desk. "You want a slice?"

No, he had to leave. His work was done, he didn't need to hang around and kill his precious down time. Besides, his diet was strict for the next few days, what with the race coming up. He had to focus on… Within fifteen seconds he was sitting across from her, holding a slice in one hand. One slice wouldn't hurt, he decided as he took a bite. "How long have you been in England?"

"About three weeks?" She glanced at her watch and nodded. "Three weeks tomorrow. I was staying at an Airbnb until a week ago when I moved into my apartment."

He nodded. "Are you going to be based here or go to the races?"

"Races. Gonna be living the glamorous life of travel and hotels and surviving on caffeine and sugar," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"It's not so bad."

"I'm sure I'll get used to it. You've been doing it for, what, half your life now?"

Shrugging, he took a sip of his water. "More than that, really. Are you saying you don't travel?"

"Not like this. I lucked out with my last job because I was able to do it mostly from home. I think I went up to New York or out to Cali maybe six times total? But I know I can do it," she added when his eyebrows lifted. "It'll just take a little getting used to, especially with a little one in tow a lot of the time."

That surprised him. His eyes immediately moved to her hands, which were completely bare of rings. "A little one?"

Y/n nodded, her eyes lighting. "He's three."

"What's his name?" Max asked. It was none of his business about the boy's father, anyway, so he wasn't going to ask about him. And he didn't even care.

"Kevin." Her smile was both shy and sparkling.

His chest tightened. Kevin, he knew, was one of the most loved children in the world. "What's he like?" The words came out and only after saying them he realized he wanted to know.

"He's… He's Kevin." She laughed. "He asks a million questions and will talk to anyone about anything. He's high energy but has laser focus when it's something that interests him – Like the other day I took him to the park. I expected him to be running around and trying out all the swings and stuff, but he spent an hour crawling in the grass following a caterpillar."

"Laser focus can be good at times," Max told her, earning a warm smile.

"I know. He comes by it honest because I do the same thing when I'm working."

"Will you be bringing him to the races?" Finished with his pizza, he shook his head when she nudged the box towards him and sat back to finish his water.

"Yeah. Not all of them, but to the next few. I already talked to Mr. Horner and Wanda about it," she said quickly, as though expecting him to be upset about her bringing her child to work. "He won't be in the way. My best friend – Ellie, she's his godmother – is traveling with me to Imola and Monaco to watch him for me. But her new job starts the first of June so I have to make arrangements before then."

"Does he like racing?"

"He's three," she deadpanned. "He loves anything with cars or trucks."

"You'll have to bring him to the track—"

"He also loves fart jokes and bugs."

Max blinked at her, snorting on a laugh when she grinned at him. "Fair enough."

"I do have to warn you, though," she said carefully, standing to gather the napkins and throw them into the trash. Closing the pizza box, she used a clean napkin to wipe off the desk. "He likes McLaren."

"It's the orange livery isn't it?" Max sighed. When she nodded, he shrugged. "I'll do my best to not hate him."

She giggled, letting out a snort.

And, for the first time in six months, Max felt lighter.

*-*

"There's my lil doodle bug," Viv cooed as Kevin leapt off the couch and ran towards her. Dropping her purse and work bag, she scooped him into a hug. "Hi sweetheart. How was your day, hm?"

Her son grinned, squeezing her tight. "I fell in poop!"

Viv froze for two seconds and leaned back a little. "What kind of poop?"

"Dog. Yes, it was fresh. Yes, he had a bath. Yes, I washed his clothes," Ellie announced as she came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. "Your dinner's almost done – How was work?"

Viv kissed her son's cheek and set him down so she could pick up her bags. "I spent the day reading protocols and policies and signing contracts. Oh, and getting my uniform."

Ellie took the knapsack stuffed with team shirts and jackets. "Good thing you love blue huh?"

"No kidding." She glanced over to Kevin, who had climbed back onto the couch and resumed lining his hot wheels along the back. "How was he today?"

"He was fine. You worry too much, mama," Ellie said gently, following y/n to her bedroom. Setting the knapsack down, she took the work bag and reached inside to switch off y/n's work phone. "Ah, ah, you're off now. You don't officially start work until Monday, so they can't expect you to be on call."

"Yes ma'am." Y/n held her hands up in surrender. "I'm gonna change and get him tucked in then I'll eat, promise."

"Perfect. Bridgerton tonight?" Ellie asked on her way out the door.

"You know it!" y/n called after her.

Once she'd changed into sweats and an old t-shirt she went to the living room. "C'mon, doodle bug," she said softly, smiling when Kevin slid off the couch without hesitation. She helped him pack his cars into their cubby, telling him about her boring day at work while she led him to the bathroom so he could brush his teeth. Then to her bedroom, wishing she had been able to afford a larger apartment so he could have his own space. But he didn't seem to mind, and more often than not he ended up crawling into her bed during the night. Something she treasured, because she knew that all too soon he would be "too big" to share a bed with his mama.

Three storybooks and a rambling made up tale about a one-eyed dragon and the princess that saved him from the evil knight later, she pressed a kiss to his cheek and turned off the light. "Good night, sweetheart. Sweet dreams," she whispered before she left the room.

"So I met Max Verstappen today," she told Ellie a few minutes later while fixing her drink.

"Ooo Mr Tu Tu Du Du himself?"

Y/n snorted. "Yeah, that one." The chicken alfredo with a side of broccoli looked so much more appetizing than the greasy pizza she'd had for a late lunch, and she almost felt like she'd cheated on her best friend for ordering takeout.

"What's he like?" Ellie asked, scooping a little more sauce over the noodles.

"He's nice."

"Just nice?"

"I mean, he asked me surface level questions and laughed at my lame jokes? Yeah, nice." Y/n pulled her plate away before Ellie could push more food onto it and sat down to eat. "Everyone's been so nice, Ellie…"

Her friend squeezed her shoulder. "I'm so glad. I have good news, too."

Y/n lifted her eyebrows, unable to speak because her mouth was full.

Ellie sat down, smiling brightly. "I spoke to HR today and Kev will be able to use the daycare."

Gulping down her mouthful of food, y/n gasped. "Oh that's great!" she cried, feeling the weight of worry that had been plaguing her for three weeks lift. "They're sure?"

"Yep, you just have to come in with me before the first and sign a document giving me permission to take him from the premises."

"Excellent, we can go in the morning? I have to go in after lunch to get my kit. Camera, laptop, all that. And Wanda told me to get more shirts so I don't have to worry about laundry while on the road – Oh and I'll be getting our passes."

"Kevin is so excited about Italy. He wants to see the leaning tower of pizza."

"Bless his heart, maybe I can take him one day."

Plans made, she finished her late dinner and did the washing up then changed into her pajamas before settling on the couch to watch Bridgerton. They were rewatching the series so she didn't feel guilty about scrolling her social media, finally biting the bullet and following all of the RedBull people she knew from headquarters.

"You are the bane of my existence… and the object of all my desires."

"Ugh," Y/N and Ellie whined in unison.

"So much nicer than you've had me hard since we met," y/n muttered.

"Let's be real, practically anything is better than that," Ellie agreed.

They finished the episode and y/n headed to bed, keeping as quietly as possible even though she knew her son could sleep through anything. Digging her work phone from her bag, she powered it on to check for any missed messages, smiling slightly when she saw Max had added her on WhatsApp. Adding him back, she was about to turn the phone off again when a new message popped up.

👋🏻

Rolling her eyes, she replied with the same emoji and waited a few seconds before plugging the phone in and turning on do not disturb. She wasn't going to have a late night chat with Max Verstappen of all people. He was probably just being nice, she told herself as she brushed her teeth and did her skincare. Wanda had told her that Max added everyone but rarely messaged anyone aside from Mr. Horner or the engineers.

Besides, she wasn't there to make friends, she reminded herself as she climbed into bed. She could be friendly, but she was there to do a job.

And no flirting with him either, she thought, immediately wondering why the idea had popped into her mind. She would never – okay, she might, if unintentionally. She knew it was a protective thing, knew it was because she had the undesirable need to have everyone like her. But she couldn't do it. Not with him, especially. He'd probably laugh in her face. He was younger than her and probably had a never ending line of gorgeous women waiting to please him.

Before she switched off the lamp she glanced over at her sleeping son. A living, breathing, very real reminder of what she'd gone through just four years ago. And she knew she couldn't go through that again. She wasn't strong enough. She refused to endure that torture and heartache. Kevin needed her, so she had to be strong for him.

Not to mention there was a no hanky-panky clause in her contract?

She had barely closed her eyes when she heard his toddler bed creak. Lying there, she listened to his feet whispering against the rug, smiling in the dark when he slowly slid the covers back.

"Mama," he whispered, and she reached for him. He snuggled close, tucking his head under her chin as she pulled the covers over them.

"Love you, sweetheart," she murmured, pressing a kiss into his hair.

"Love you, Mama."

*-*

"I think it's good, yeah," Max said, eyes scanning the screens of data from the upgrades. "It'll be great for turn seven." Nodding, he listened to the engineers as they went over potential upgrades for Monaco. Once the meeting was finished he grabbed his water bottle and left the room, ignoring the almost immediate phone call from his father. He knew it was his dad without checking, and strode down the hall, intent on leaving and heading straight for the airport to go home. Where he could ignore everything and everyone until Sunday when it was time to fly to Italy.

Rounding the corner, he lurched to a stop as a small child darted in front of him, his giggles echoing down the corridor. The little boy stopped and looked up at Max, blinking slowly.

"Hi!" He waved.

"Hello." Max heard rapid footsteps and glanced up to see y/n iquickly approaching.

"Kevin Scott—"

"I've got him," Max told her with a quick wave, squatting down to the boy's level. "So you're Kevin?"

The boy nodded, light blonde curls bouncing on his head. "I'm Kevin. That's Mama."

"I'm Max. I heard a lot about you."

Kevin's eyes widened. "You know Mama?"

"About this much." Max held his thumb and index finger barely a centimeter apart. He quickly looked to y/n, who was walking up behind Kevin. "I work with her."

"Ohh… She's gonna take me to see cars. D'you like cars Mister Max?" he asked seriously. As though cars were the most important thing in the universe.

"More than I like myself some days," Max quipped, reaching to check the miniature car the boy was holding in his hand. "I drive one like this."

Kevin gasped. "Do you got it here?"

Max chuckled. "We have a lot. Do you want to see them?"

"Please," the boy said, and Max couldn't have said no under any circumstances.

"You have to ask your mum," he said gently. "And maybe say sorry for running away from her?"

Kevin immediately turned to his mother. "Mama I sorry. Can Mister Max take me to cars?"

She sighed, squatting down to fix his shorts. "We've gotta be more careful, sweetheart. And yes, Mister Max can take us to see the cars."

Kevin spun to face Max again. "She said yes!"

Grinning, Max nodded and stood.

"Thank you," y/n said softly. "I'm sor—"

"He's three, yeah?" Max reached to place his hand on the boy's head, gently guiding him closer when he started to wander off. "Don't apologize for him being a child."

She tipped her head at that, then nodded, grabbing hold of Kevin's hand as Max turned to lead them back down the hallway he'd just left. "I only came by to get my kit, and his aunt had paperwork at her new workplace to finish up, so I had to bring him."

"I'm glad you did." Max gave her a gentle smile, using his card to open the door leading to the back of headquarters. "Have you been back here?"

"Only on my tour the other day."

"Just stick with me," he said. They wouldn't be entering the engineer or design areas, only taking the corridor to the garage. Otherwise they'd have to travel all the way to the main entrance and walk around to the back, which would be tedious for her son.

"I'm under contract and signed an NDA, and it's not like I'd know where to go to sell team secrets," she told him. "And I wouldn't even know what I overheard."

"Not a car fan?" he asked, accepting the model car Kevin was shoving at him. Slipping it into his pocket, he guided them along the curving corridor.

"Eh… Kinda? I like racing. I don't understand all the mechanics to it, I just like the adrenaline of watching twenty guys drive really fast. And I can admire good craftsmanship, like a Bugatti or a McLaren, ya know?"

"What do you drive?" Max asked, using his card to open the door to the garage. Met with the faint aroma of rubber and asphalt, he inhaled deeply, catching with it a lighter, more pleasant scent.

"Nothing at the moment. I've been taking an Uber to and from the apartment," she explained. "I'll probably get a used car after my first paycheck."

Max furrowed his brows, stopping on the catwalk. "You haven't gotten paid yet?"

"No? Well, only my signing bonus, and that's gone to household necessities like rent and food. It's fine, Max, I don't need a car right now."

What are you going to do, give her one of yours? he thought, reaching to Kevin and lifting the boy to his hip so he could carry him down the stairs to the main level. Kevin was already oohing and aahing over the neat rows of cars. "It's just me, Brandon," he called, seeing the member of the security team at the other end of the garage. "A quick tour for a new friend, yeah?"

Brandon waved and disappeared around the corner.

At the bottom of the stairs, Max set Kevin down, ushering him to the nearest car. The boy's excitement was contagious, and Max gleefully told him about each one that he'd driven, helping the boy climb into each and press buttons on the steering wheel. Laughing when Kevin made racecar noises, he pulled out his phone to pull up some videos for sound effects. Swiping away the notifications from his dad, he turned up the volume so the engine sounds echoed in the garage, enjoying Kevin's childish glee.

"This one you know," he said, guiding him to the most recent addition. Lifting him into the seat, he squatted down. "This is a car I drove last year, which—" He pulled the model car from his pocket and set it on top of the steering column. "—is just like the one you have."

"Wow." Kevin looked at him with pure awe. "Did you win?"

"I did. And I won the championship too."

"You're a champ-een, Mister Max?" the boy gasped.

"I am."

"Like Lightning McQueen?"

"You could say that," he chuckled, affectionately ruffling the boy's curls. Glancing over at y/n, he paused when he saw she was holding up her phone.

She peered at him over the top. "Is it okay to take pictures?"

"Of course." He had a feeling she'd already taken dozens. He stepped out of the way so she could get photos of Kevin in the car, then lifted him out once she tucked her phone away. "Have you seen the trophies?"

"No. Can we see 'em, Mister Max? Please?"

"You have to ask your mum." Turning, he sent y/n a pleading look as Kevin asked permission.

"As long as Mister Max doesn't mind," she said, rolling her eyes when Kevin squealed yay.

"It's a long walk, do you want me to carry you?"

Kevin squirmed, wriggling so he was piggybacking. "Thank you Mister Max."

His chest tightened, and he reached to adjust the boy's legs around his middle. "You're welcome, Kevin. We do have to make a stop on the way to the trophy case, though."

Next to him, y/n cleared her throat. "I can take him if you've got something to do."

"No, it's fine, a quick stop," Max assured her, motioning for her to go up the stairs first.

"A pit stop?" Kevin asked, giggling as Max jogged up the steps.

"Exactly that. No more than ten seconds," he promised.

Fifteen minutes later, he was squatting down to fix the collar of Kevin's new shirt. "There you go, mate. What do you think?"

Kevin grinned and gave him a thumb's up.

Max looked up at y/n, who rolled her eyes. "He has to be Team Red Bull," he explained with a shrug, adjusting Kevin's new cap with a grin. Thanking the merch manager, he handed over the bag of goodies he'd grabbed and motioned for Kevin to climb onto his back.

"Thank you!" Kevin called, waving enthusiastically as he was carried out.

"Thank you, Max," y/n murmured while they walked towards reception. "But please don't get him anything else."

"I won't," he said softly. "If I overstepped—"

"No, no, it's fine. He'll wear the shirts until they're too small and he'll play with the models until they fall apart. I just don't want him to think he'll get this type of treatment all the time."

"I understand." He nodded. She didn't want her son to be spoiled. Which he found admirable. "…So giving him one of my old cars is out of the question?"

She halted, jaw dropping. "Max!"

"A joke!" he promised, flashing her a grin as he jogged ahead.

"Not funny," she scoffed behind him, and he heard her huff as she ran to catch up. "Those things cost probably a million—"

Max swung around, easily catching Kevin and swinging him back onto his back. "The car for Miami was about sixteen million."

Her eyes widened. "Sixteen—" She pressed her hands together right in front of her mouth. "Million? As in sixteen then six zeroes behind it?"

Nodding, he started walking backwards, amused at her reaction. She was staring at him in shock, and her son was giggling. "It's hard to pinpoint an exact cost, because we reuse some components from race to race. A chassis, or wings, yeah? If you really wanted to know I can pull up the data and get the price for each part—"

"No," she said, shaking her head slowly. "Please don't. I'd probably faint."

"It's an expensive sport, y/n," he reminded her.

"Yeah no shit," she muttered, exhaling harshly. "I've got so much to learn."

"You'll be fine." He'd meant it to come out in an offhand manner. A generic it's okay so feelings wouldn't be hurt. But it came out gently, laced with reassurance and promise. And, before he could stop himself, his mouth opened again. "If you have any questions you can ask me."

"I can Google," she told him.

"I can change my Wikipedia to say I'm eighty-six. Doesn't make it true," he quipped.

To his relief, she laughed. "Fair point. I'll be sure and ask you."

He turned his attention back to Kevin, swinging him from his back to his hip. Reception was empty, and he set the boy down so he could explore the various displays. "He can't hurt anything," he reassured her, knowing she was watching carefully as Kevin ran over to a wing displayed on the wall.

"I just worry," she sighed.

"Why do you sound like you're apologizing?" Folding his arms over his chest, he watched Kevin walk around the large room, drinking it all in. "You're his mother, you're supposed to worry. If you didn't you would have to apologize."

"Thank you."

"He's a good kid, y/n," he said softly.

"I think so too." He could hear the smile in her voice and turned slightly to see it on her face.

Every other time he'd been in this room the weather outside had been cloudy or rainy. He couldn't remember the sun ever shining as he'd stood there to soak in all the history. Until now. It poured through the windows, causing the trophies in the cases to sparkle and the polished floor to gleam. It shone into her eyes, and he could only stare at her as she squinted a little, a tiny dimple appearing in her left cheek.

God, she was lovely.

She glanced at him and his breathing kickstarted. Unconsciously licking his lips, he cleared his throat. "You seem to be doing well, for a single mom."

Her smile faltered and he mentally kicked himself. She looked to Kevin, who was studying the Red Bull logo on the wall, and looked at Max again. "I didn't have a choice."

"I'm sorry," he said automatically.

"Oh he's not dead." She watched her son, her smile gone. "Just dead to us."

"Then I'm sorry for bringing it up." It had ruined the day. Well, alright, not the day but the moment. They'd been having fun, he'd been having fun.

You always fuck up don't you?

His jaw clenched as the angry voice from years ago echoed in his mind.

"It's okay, Max." Her gentle voice cut through the echoes of the past and he forced his jaw to relax.

Nodding, he uncrossed his arms and called to Kevin, taking him by the hand and leading him to the towering trophy case. "Come on, y/n, time to learn some history."

She snorted on a laugh but joined them, and he could tell she was paying attention as he rattled off years and races and drivers to Kevin.

You're going to fuck this up too, the voice sneered.

#f1 #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #max verstappen #max verstappen fic #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #my writings > mv > rulebreaker

[pearlzier]

Matt and Reader are fwb and reader gets impatient and fucks someone else. Matt finds out and bends her over the nearest surface, taunting her by asking “who fucks you better?”

⊹ 🦴 ࣪ ✶ ˖

"greedy, fuckin', girl," every word is punctuated by a forceful thrust of matt's hips, and followed, after, by the pitiful whine slipping from your lips. you're wrecked, lashes fluttering against your cheeks with every blink as you try to maintain some sense of dignity. fuck dignity, you thought, when you return back to the sensation of his hips slamming against your ass with every movement.

"takin' me for granted, huh?" he coos into your ear, sliding his hands roughly over your chest and groping at your tits, squeezing to grab your misplaced attention. you'd spent enough time not thinking about him, had you not? so he'd make sure the only thing you could think about was him. only think about the way you whimper pathetically when he pulls out only for him to pound back into you moments later.

"after everythin' i've done for you," he may act like you don't affect him, like he isn't obsessed with you, but the way he whines low under his breath as he's got you bent over the arm of the couch, buried deep in your cunt? tells you everything. you know better than that, that he is obsessed, that he wants you to be his despite the whole arrangement. the thought makes you giggle, and you do, causing a groan from matt.

"gigglin' 'n' shit, baby? thought you were too dumb to speak.. maybe i needa' fuck you harder," he grunted quietly as he hiked you forward, fingers grasping at your head gently to let you plant your head in the couch cushion. a soft smile plays on his lips at the sight of your fingers grasping for dear life on the couch. "who fucks you like this? who fucks you better?"

your response was simply wordless whimpers and incoherent mumbles, the sound of skin slapping againsg skin making your brain fuzzy.

the entire, and only reason you were being bent over the couch at this very moment was because you'd been needy and impatient. instead of waiting for matt to get your release you so desperately craved, you'd gone and fucked someone else. you knew it wouldn't be as good as matt and surprise surprise, it wasn't, but you didn't know that matt would find out. or—respond like this. "i asked you a question, baby, c'mon," despite how annoyed he was with you, you could feel how much he wanted you.

"no one fucks me better," you manage, gasping softly when his angle changes and he thrusts even deeper, pathetic sounds escaping your mouth now. "no one, no one.. no one!" you cry out with a whine.

"there we go, there she is," matt wraps his arms around your waist and tugs you back against him, grunting with the movement but also smiling once more at the sight of you. "dick too good to run your mouth? that's it, that's what i thought. no one else," he whispers into your ear with a coo, "just me. say it for me? wanna hear it."

he knows exactly what he's doing—pounding into you like that and expecting you to speak coherently. but he played dirty. very dirty. "just you," you mumble out, "only you."

a smug chuckle slips past his lips, head cocking to the side. the bastard. "just me? only me? you spoil me, baby."

a/n ☆ first time writing smut lolz ! lmk how this is

taglist ★ @onlynextdoor , @junnniiieee07 , @st7rnioioss ۫ .

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo fluff #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo drabble #chris sturniolo blurb #chris sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo drabble #matt sturniolo blurb

[deebris]

The Mysterious Visitor III

Batfamily x batsis (platonic!)

Synopsis: Bruce begins to suspect that Damian is hiding something after the two of you finally see each other, and the father-son trust between them is shaken. Tim finally sees your face, and something strange happens. The meeting between siblings was not successful, and to their dismay, Bruce will need to confront Talia face to face once again.

Warnings: The reader is 13 years old and is Damian's twin sister; the tone of the story is somewhat sad; Bruce is intimidating; Hugo Strange mentioned; family discussion; maternal overprotection.

Word count: 3.6k

Note: I'm sincerely sorry if I didn't include someone on the tag list or if I made any mistakes. This part took longer because it's a bit longer.

Part I Part II Part III

"Forgive me for not offering anything sooner, miss," Alfred said, watching you carefully pick up the hot chocolate he had given to you. He found it curious how you ignored the handle of the mug, instead holding it with both hands, making sure wouldn't spill it.

You diverted your eyes from the brown liquid and looked at the old butler, now knowing his name, licking your lips after the sip to clear the excess drink. "It's okay," you responded, unaware of the chocolate mustache that had formed.

Bruce, still in the room, watched the scene from the side while patiently awaiting Damian. He traced circles with his index finger on the rim of the whiskey glass he had poured for himself, trying to keep control of how much he drank. Bruce would never admit it, but he needed to calm down, and perhaps a bit of moderate alcohol might help. He knew it wasn't appropriate to drink in front of someone as young as you, but he couldn't stop himself.

He was caught looking at you with a suspicious gaze that didn't waver. The room was filled with a palpable discomfort, and you, embarrassed, went back to staring at your own drink again, focused on listening to the crackling of the fireplace.

"Here, take this," Alfred said gently, extending a napkin from the tray. You accepted it and wiped around your mouth, finally realizing you'd made a mess.

Your mother would have scolded you for your lack of manners, you thought to yourself. And, for the thousandth time that night, you worried about how she would react to discovering you weren't in your bed. Maybe she had already noticed and was preparing a furious speech along with your punishment.

"What are you thinking about, dear?" Alfred asked, noticing your quietness as you rested the hot chocolate mug in your lap and started staring into nothing.

You snapped out of your stupor upon hearing the question, fiddling with one of the charms on your bracelet, the "T" specifically, Bruce couldn't help but notice. His mind was in turmoil, much like yours, with a thousand different thoughts arising every second. He felt strangely betrayed, questioning how much more his son hadn't told him—important things like the fact that he had a sister.

"I was just thinking that..." you trailed off, swallowing hard as the nervousness grew. Letting out a shaky sigh and with visible tears forming in your eyes, you continued, "My mom's going to be mad at me."

"And are you afraid of your mother?" Alfred insisted, trying to sound gentle upon seeing your distress.

"It's not quite that," you replied, trying to ease the situation so he wouldn't jump to conclusions.

You weren't exactly afraid of her, but you knew that rummaging through your mother's belongings, stealing a letter, and sneaking out in the middle of the night would disappoint her. You worried about her reaction and, above all, about Damian's reaction. If he was still the same, he certainly wouldn't be happy with the circumstances.

You tried to calm yourself, convincing yourself that you had the right to be angry for the first time in your life, not them, even knowing that your family would see you differently. It was as if you were perpetually a five-year-old in their eyes, always needing to hear lectures about every dangerous step you took.

Even though you and your brother were the same age, he was more responsible, smarter, stronger, destined to be a leader. And it annoyed you so much, but no matter what you said, your mother wouldn't change her mind about your upbringing.

When Damian left, Talia had said he would spend some time in a different place to learn new things and improve himself. For the first few weeks, it was even liberating not having him on your neck all the time, but then you realized it was because of him that you could do simple things like take a walk around the neighborhood alone.

Without Damian at home, your mother had no one to contradict her decisions, and her constant protection began to suffocate you. Then came the longing, and what was supposed to be a few months turned into years, and you never saw him again. You never stopped thinking about him. Every day, every birthday, and every Christmas, you would wait near the entrance of your apartment before going to bed, hoping that he would open the door again.

"Where is your mother?" Bruce suddenly interrupted, feeling Alfred's cautious gaze on him. You hesitated to answer, after all, although Mr. Wayne was a very popular man with a good image, you didn't know him. "I don't intend to harm you, but I need to know to take you back home," he justified, looking directly at your face, but Alfred knew this was Bruce's way of telling him that he wasn't interested in Talia, but rather in ensuring your safety.

"I'm not dumb, I know how to get home by myself," you tried to defend yourself. And though the words might sound arrogant, you said it calmly, not wanting to offend him.

"The point is not that. This is Gotham City, you shouldn't have gone out alone in the middle of the night." Bruce tried to reason with you, and it seemed to have worked because you fell silent.

"You need to trust us, miss," Alfred tried to encourage you to respond, but you remained silent. Bruce turned the glass to take a big sip of his drink and both gave up, not wanting to pressure you further.

The following minutes were silent, interrupted only by the sound of you drinking the hot chocolate in a few sips. Unexpectedly, Titus, Damian's German Shepherd, seemed to have taken a liking to you. He entered the room from the kitchen and stopped by your side to smell the new scent in the house. The relatively gentle dog sniffed around you, appreciating the head pats he received while you were enchanted by the furry animal.

Bruce couldn't help but compare you to his son since he began to analyze you. Damian had his mother's cunning personality and an arrogance that Bruce couldn't deny he had too, but it was more pronounced in Talia. He clearly remembered the first meeting with Damian. The first thing the boy did was make a ridiculous joke about his height, and he never seemed shy when meeting Bruce or the other boys. Also, when he arrived at the mansion, he felt comfortable analyzing every tiny detail of the house, unconcerned if his opinions were unpleasant.

You, on the other hand, although in different circumstances, limited yourself to a small space on the couch, responding only when asked and gladly accepting the kindness of Dick and Alfred. Bruce wondered how Talia could have raised a daughter like you. She and her sister, Nyssa, were sharp women, trained to be natural-born assassins, despite having a traditional father like Ra's. It was hard to believe that you, an apparently ordinary and shy girl, could be her daughter.

"Do you like dogs?" Bruce asked, deciding to stop being grumpy.

"I do, but I think I prefer cats." You continued to stroke Titus's cheeks, who began to want to climb onto your lap. Unfortunately, he was too heavy, and you had to push him back to the floor. The animal seemed to interpret that as a game because he kept trying to climb several times. "Mom gave me one for Christmas last year."

"Titus." Bruce's voice caught the dog's attention, patting his right thigh, calling him to sit on his lap. His gesture, although meant to stop the animal from bothering you, made you a little disappointed that you couldn't pet his soft fur anymore.

"What a coincidence. It seems you and Damian share something in common." Alfred was smiling while talking to you, which was rare for him. "Last Christmas, he also brought us two stray cats. The black one lives with us, but unfortunately, I don't know what happened to the other one. Curiously, the cat has my name." The butler tried to make a face at you, pretending to be unhappy. A Cheshire smile spread across your face, followed by the most contagious laugh he had ever heard, and he couldn't help but widen his own smile.

"The cat's name is Alfred?" You asked incredulously, seeing him nod positively. "Mine is an orange cat. He's cute but very troublesome; he even scratched one of my ballet shoes." You commented, much more at ease in Mr. Wayne's presence.

"An orange kitten?" Bruce's eyes widened slightly, just like Alfred's.

An orange and a black cat, both mentioned on the same date. Your seemingly trivial confession revealed to both of them that Damian had indeed kept in touch with you. Perhaps not directly, but it showed that he hadn't forgotten your existence and cared enough to have given the other cat to his sister as a gift. Now, because of you, they both finally knew what had happened to the other furball.

"Your brother also raises a cow here on the property." The butler thought it would be of interest to mention the funny fact, given that Damian was too irritable to raise something like a cow. And it seemed to have worked, as you laughed with genuine surprise in your eyes.

Bruce couldn't help but let out a muffled laugh when reminded of the cow, and unlike how he had been so suspicious of you moments ago, he was now more relaxed. He wondered when was the last time he saw Alfred so cheerful with someone new here at the mansion. The butler was a man full of tenderness for the family, but he was difficult to deal with for outsiders, although he always presented himself in a polite manner.

But the pleasant moment was suddenly interrupted by a series of voices coming from the top of the stairs, making Bruce and Alfred frown. Both stood up to see better what was happening and saw Damian pushing and shouting at his three brothers while struggling to descend the steps without being hindered by them.

Jason saw that Bruce and Alfred had already noticed them, failing to prevent the boy from confronting you three, and let go of his arm. Dick and Tim followed suit, defeated. The events of the night were revealed to him by his brothers, who told him everything from you being here to the fact that you had had some sort of contact with Strange. Damian went berserk at the last part and stormed out of the room in a flash.

Seeing his son in the Robin uniform, Bruce thought of reprimanding him, knowing he had gone on patrol alone again, but decided that was a matter for later.

"Damian," Bruce called out, calming him down a bit from his excitement. "We have a visitor." There was no view of the stairs from the living room, so you couldn't grasp that Bruce was calling Robin by your brother's name.

Damian descended the steps slowly, as if it were a very difficult task for him, and then finally looked at you, then at Bruce, and back at you, completely ignoring anyone else. He took a deep breath, trying to process the situation. Dick had told him that his father didn't know anything about you being his daughter, but he was sure this secret wouldn't last much longer. And honestly, he preferred that both of you knew the truth, even knowing that his mother wouldn't be happy.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, surprise evident in his voice.

You slowly got up from the couch, gripping the hot chocolate mug tightly. The truth was, Damian hadn't realized he was still dressed as Robin, and that's why you didn't recognize him. You stood there, paralyzed, not understanding why he was in Bruce Wayne's house, and why would he talk to you? Or maybe this was some kind of joke, and you still hadn't figured it out.

Damian was silent for a moment, his expression serious. "You were supposed to stay with Mom. It's not safe for you here."

"Master Damian," Alfred spoke, signaling to the mask on his face. Damian quickly tore it off, feeling stupid for forgetting about it.

You almost let the mug slip when you saw him. Your brother had grown a lot since he was ten. His face was thinner, more defined, and his eyes smaller, plus his voice was deeper. That's why you didn't recognize him at first. Before, you would have known who he was just by the sound of his voice, but it wasn't the same anymore.

You were happy and surprised at the same time. That moment was shocking, and the bitterness you felt a while ago was forgotten. Your anger at discovering Damian ignored you for two years for the people in this house didn't cross your mind now, too busy trying to memorize each of his new features. The superhero world wasn't new, after all, but how could your brother be Robin? And if he was Robin, did he know Batman?

"I wanted to see you," you replied, your voice trembling. "I missed you."

Damian sighed, approaching. He wanted to argue but fought against it, knowing the last thing he should do was yell at you after so long. "I missed you too, but you shouldn't be here, S/n. Things are complicated here." He responded tensely, calculating his words and trying to find a way to get you away from Bruce as quickly as possible before something slipped.

Bruce watched your interaction, unsure of what to do. He didn't understand the depth of your relationship, wondering if he should intervene or let you talk alone. It seemed too personal to discuss in front of so many eyes.

In a brief exchange of glances with Dick, in a kind of silent conversation, Bruce signaled for him and the others to leave.

Understanding as always, Dick nodded, indicating they should leave but not before approaching Bruce with something. "Bruce, promise me you'll only read this card when you're in a clearer state of mind," he asked in a whisper, placing a piece of paper in Bruce's hand, careful to put the written part facing his palm. Dick rarely asked for promises, so Bruce reluctantly agreed.

"Can you at least tell me what it is?"

"It's a clue about Hugo Strange," was the simplest response he could give. "But let's leave that for another time," Dick emphasized, looking at you and Damian, who, to their surprise, were watching them.

"Let's go. This is no longer our business," Dick tried to pull Jason and Tim along, but Tim was stubborn:

"Did you give it to him?" Tim said just loud enough for Dick to hear.

"Yes, Tim," he replied, not wanting to give him more room to argue, going up the stairs two steps at a time, followed by Jason who climbed more calmly, holding onto the railing. Tim gave one last look at Bruce, then at Damian, Alfred, and then you, who was now watching the three. You already knew Dick, but the other two figures aroused your curiosity. How many more people live in the mansion?

The boy you didn't know was called Tim started staring at you with an intrigued expression. He hadn't managed to see your face closely before, but now, looking calmly, he couldn't avoid noticing how familiar you seemed. He felt he had seen you somewhere, but where? You examined him with the same perplexity, and for a moment he parted his lips to say something, maybe to ask if he knew you, but Bruce's voice made him jump:

"Tim, you should go to bed, just like your brothers." He asked in a gentle tone.

"Sorry, Bruce." He responded quickly, going up the stairs in same style as Jason.

"Do you have any idea how long I've been looking for you?" Damian took advantage of the fact that the three had left and angrily threw it in your face, but trying to disguise it at all costs to avoid sounding too harsh. His eyes were frantic, looking at every part of your face.

He wasn't sentimental, and he refused to go through the humiliation of showing any weakness at seeing your grown-up figure, even if it caused him heartache. "Why did you disappear like that? Mom's been worried for hours."

"I already told you. I wanted to see you." Your voice rose a bit, desperately trying to justify yourself. You wanted so much to hug him but felt too embarrassed to do so, finally realizing that the intimacy you had before no longer existed. It was as if he were a stranger.

"Let's go. I'll take you back." He grabbed your wrist, wanting to disappear from his father's sight at all costs, but you pulled away, surprising him.

"Why are you so eager to get rid of me?" You asked indignantly, trying to swallow the sob due to your wounded pride. The warmth in your heart rose to your head, finally feeling that old anger again. "I haven't seen you in years, and the first thing you do is want to keep me away again!" You were distressed, feeling rejected.

"Maybe it's because you only cause problems!" He exploded.

"I had forgotten how irritating you are!" You shouted at the top of your lungs, trying to push him back as you did in childhood arguments. Back then, you two were equal in strength, but now Damian was becoming a man, and he barely moved.

You didn't notice when you dropped the mug on the floor, which luckily didn't break as the impact was cushioned by the rug. But the little liquid left had spilled and stained it, and seeing Alfred pick it up to clean made you feel awful. You should have done it, but he stopped you when you made a move to bend down, saying it was okay. Alfred felt he shouldn't participate in this conversation and used the mug situation as an excuse to go to the kitchen.

"Stop." Bruce intervened between you two, separating both and giving his son a challenging look. He knew this kind of attitude was typical of him, but seeing how loyal and obedient Damian was to Talia, he thought he would at least show some sympathy to his sister. "S/n, why don't you go sleep a bit? It's late, it would be good to rest." He offered as a truce and also as a way to interrupt your meeting, seeing how bad it was going.

"Do you realize the danger she got into? Talking to strangers, no less." Damian spoke again, his voice dangerously calm, ignoring Bruce. "Do you have any idea who that guy was, S/n? Do you have any idea?!" His voice began to rise a few octaves.

A solitary tear rolled down your cheek, recalling the man who had helped you on the street. At that moment, he seemed like a good person, but the way your brother was talking, apparently he wasn't. "How many times do we need to tell you not to talk to strangers? Not to leave the house without telling anyone? It's always been like this since we were kids, you never change!"

You had no reaction. That single tear had turned into two, then into several others, as you shrank into your own shame. You felt ridiculous for coming here because of him.

"Damian, who are you talking about?" Bruce held him by the shoulders to stop him from continuing to spew anger at you. His voice was much deeper than the boy's, and although it didn't intimidate him, it was enough to make him look at him at least.

"Hugo Strange, Dad! Damn Hugo Strange!" Damian lost control of his own mouth, speaking without thinking and not realizing the slip he had just made. "Because she's too stupid to have the slightest notion about anything!"

"Hugo Strange?" Mr. Wayne asked out loud. You knew exactly who Strange was, just as you knew other villains, although you might not recognize them by appearance. But that didn't matter to you now, as you spoke right after:

"Why did you call him Dad?" You looked your brother in the eyes, expecting some kind of explanation, not noticing how his body hairs stood on end.

Suddenly, a realization hit you. This was his new family now, and this man was his father. That venomous jealousy returned once more, and you didn't know if it was because Damian now had someone to call 'Dad' or because it meant how close he had become to these people. Damian swallowed hard, sweating and standing still like a statue.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Wayne. I didn't mean to cause trouble." You apologized, deciding to completely ignore Damian from now on.

"No need to apologize." Bruce felt uneasy, and like you, he drew a wrong interpretation from it. He thought Damian hadn't told his sister who his real father was, which was possible considering he also hadn't told her he moved in with him. The fact that you two were twins was also still unknown to Bruce. The most logical idea, though not spoken or thought, was that you were Talia's daughter with another man. "I'll ask Alfred to show you a room."

You looked one last time at Damian before disappearing into some wing of the mansion. It hurt to see him watching you leave without even saying goodbye. A 'good night' would have been hopeful, even though you hated him now.

"Come, miss." You felt Alfred's hands on your back, guiding you. "I'll show you the guest room," he explained, and you looked back, seeing Bruce watching the two of you.

"Thank you, Mr. Wayne," you said, trying to sound as grateful as possible, while wrapping one arm around Alfred's waist affectionately. Bruce gave you a slight smile, uncrossing his arms to wave goodbye, which you returned with your free hand.

"You and I now have a lot to talk about." Bruce's aura had become cold again. The trust he had built with Damian wasn't broken, but it definitely had a crack.

"Mom is coming," he said in a low voice "I called her as soon as Dick started told me everything," he confessed, knowing Bruce would be furious, watching him run a hand through his hair to relieve the tension.

Following his example, Damian also sat in one of the armchairs in the room, analyzing his father's movements. Whenever Talia and Bruce were in the same room, even if they didn't do it openly, they fought for some kind of dominance.

Bruce made a move to take out the card Dick had given him to see its contents and maybe pass the time while the second storm of the night was yet to come. The first had been you, of course. He ran his fingers along one of the edges of the card, without taking it completely out of his pocket, and then remembered his son's words:

'Promise me you'll only read this card when you're in a moment of clarity.'

The last thing Bruce had now was clarity. So he sighed heavily and pushed it back into his pocket, staring at the boy beside him. "Why do I feel like your sister should be a secret, Damian?"

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Credits for the divider: @cafekitsune

#imagine #x reader #angst #batman #batsis #batfam #batfamily #bruce wayne #damian wayne #dick grayson #sister reader #daughter reader #child reader #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x sister reader #batman x reader #batman x daughter reader #batfam x batsis

[tojisun]

hockey player simon pt 03 // part of this plot // mlist

i swear it was just supposed to be a drabble w no plot

jo heaves a sigh the moment you slide in front of her, and you would have been insulted if it wasn't for the gentle smile she gives right after. still, she's staring at you with that teasing tilt of her lips and her eyes narrowed in humour, one that you're not privy to.

"what?" you finally bite out, fiddling with your iced coffee, feeling self-conscious.

you fleet your eyes to yourself and, yeah, sure you're wearing the same pants as yesterday’s but c'mon? you didn't get to go back to your place after, well...

at least you didn't repeat your top, and is instead wearing a sweater you've stolen from simon's closet. cashmere, cream and soft, and the material comfortable, if not a little bit loose in the arms that droop past your fingers.

you thought you at least looked like those typical college students in the movies—effortlessly chic in a boyfriend sweater, if not a little haggard because who is not when in university?

she finally chuckles, the thrum of her voice easing up the frown that tugged your brows together. “don’t sweat it, superstar. it’s just that i’m still not used to seeing you be a sugar baby.”

you choke mid-sip, her words devouring you like an angry tide. you feel your eyes water in protest, the feeling burning as you sputter.

“i’m not–!”

“you’re not what?” tim asks, sliding into the seat beside yours.

you grumble, wagging a finger as you wipe your stained chin with your other hand. jo snorts and fills him in, chuckling all the while as she gestures at your sweater because she knows it couldn’t possibly have been yours.

tim’s smile turns cheeky, teasing, and he wiggles his brows at you.

“shut up, oh my god,” you whine, rolling your eyes at them, almost shyly, and you feel your cheeks warming. “i’m not– simon’s not my–”

“oh c’mon, babe,” jo says, playfully throwing her mechanical pencil at you. you huff before chucking it back at her, giggling to yourself when it bounces off her arm and rolls into the floor.

tim picks it up for her.

“he buys you expensive things—” her eyes flit to the new promise ring that you’re wearing. you unconsciously hide it behind your palm. “and pays for your tuition which i’m so, so jealous of.”

“doesn’t he fly you around too? in a private jet or something?” tim pipes up, shamelessly snagging away your iced coffee now that you’re too preoccupied to drink it.

“he doesn’t!”

twin brows quirk up in silent judgement.

“…he buys us first class tickets, not, like, a whole jet.”

see? they seemed to say with the way they cock their heads to the side.

you sniff. “it’s for work,” you mumble, remembering the first time simon flew you for his games.

“i mean, for him, maybe. but you? tell me what business do you have in winnipeg?” tim chirps and you almost want to jump him just to make him shut up.

“sugar baby,” jo finishes, singing. “but i mean, who can blame him, huh?” she grins, her voice dipping into a faux southern accent. “i’d spoil you too, sugar.”

“oh, you flirt,” you trill, taking the opening she offers to change the topic.

tim takes the bait and whines about how jo doesn’t do all those things for him, but jo is unmoved, eyeing you knowingly, but thankfully drops it too.

it’s just—

there’s a whole stigma to athlete’s girlfriends. for god’s sake, they even have a whole label—puck bunny—which is honestly just a dig made up by really shitty men who burn with jealousy . and you know that, but—

you can’t help but wonder if some, not all, of simon’s love for you is because of what you do to him. of what you give him in return. especially since he’s so busy all the time, either flying during the season and is rarely home, or packed with training and other physical regimen during the offseason.

so you wonder if this—flying you with him on the days the official WAGs are not being flown by the franchise, bringing you to vacation spots on the other side of the ocean, buying you everything you used to only dream of ever having—was his way of paying you back for your support and patience and care and love.

tim knocks his shoulder with yours, worry now lining his boyishly charming face.

“y’alright?”

“of course.” you lick your lips. “so did you ever get a copy of the lab sheet from rayan?”

.

you watch from the front seats as the team wrap up practice tonight, their coach looking pleased at their performance. it was still difficult to follow the game, but the players all look content too despite the sweat and their ragged breathing.

they never did know how to hold back even during a practice.

you say your goodbyes to the other people who came to watch, shooting simon a text that you’ll be waiting for him in the parking lot, and walk out.

the cashmere sweater, thankfully, is enough to fight off the cool air and the gentle breeze while you make your trek to simon’s distinct range rover, all sleek and pure black like he’s got the damn royals for a passenger.

it’s locked so you hover outside, stuffing your hands in the pockets of your pants, and entertained yourself with making puffs of air like you’re ten again. it’s honestly not too bad to be alone, if it weren’t for the sudden swarming of your doubts—the very same ones you thought you already shrugged off before taking the cab to the rink.

fuck.

“hey, love,” simon’s voice pierces through your thoughts and you jump, barely smothering the yelp that almost tore itself from the base of your throat.

you swivel, heart pounding, and simon’s beautiful face creases into one of concern.

“are you��”

“si!” you greet, jogging to him.

he laughs and opens his arms for a hug, one that you excitedly give him. you tuck your cold face in the crook of his neck, breathing him in, taking in the antiseptic scent of rink soap and the faint smell of his shampoo.

his body is so warm against yours, and you can’t help but melt in his hold, body relaxing at the comfort he brings you.

“you ready to go home?” he asks like the insinuation that his home is also yours is not heart-stopping and world-changing.

you nod, unable to trust your voice right now.

there’s something different whenever it’s just you and simon—your thoughts, for once, are quiet and your confidence in yourself peaking like simon is the only place in this world where you can truly be yourself. it’s not just indulgence, nor tolerance, but it’s pure unadulterated acceptance.

and maybe it’s because of that realization, that flipped switch, that in the lull of your conversation with simon, you bring it up.

“did you know? my friends think that you’re my sugar daddy.”

you feel him freeze, body going rigid as your words spill into the space between you two. you continue to hide your face away from, avoiding a serious conversation as regret begins to build, shame licking up from your fingertips to your ears.

stupid, you think to yourself. why the hell did i bring it up? fuck—

then, simon laughs, soft and sputtering, his whole body shaking as he giggles, choked wheezes uncontainable. you tip your head up just enough to catch his eyes, questions filling your tongue, waiting to be spilled, but simon cups your cheek so tenderly before you could doubt anything any more.

“do i need to be one to spoil you rotten?” he asks like he didn’t just shaken the foundations of your doubts.

do i need to be one to spoil you rotten, he said like spoiling you was the norm. like showering you with expensive gifts and booking you expensive flights and helping you with your expensive necessities was something that boyfriends typically do. like your friends are the odd ones for thinking he had to be anything other the man you’re dating to be able to splurge for you.

“no,” you say, dizzy with the weight of your affections.

simon’s smile droops, his eyes clearing. “was that something that honestly worried you?”

“i–”

the humour leaves him, and simon straightens up at seeing the gravity of the turmoil in your heart. his hands fall to your sides, thumbs hooked in the dip of your hips. he leans forward until his nose is brushing against yours.

“you know i love you, right?” simon asks, his voice quaking in desperation.

“yeah,” you sniffle, honest because god you mean it. “yeah, si. i know.”

“okay,” he says after a while, still intensely looking at you like you aren’t surely anything but a blob in his eyes with how close you two are pressed to each other.

then, his lips brush with yours, so faint, you almost missed it. you shudder at the feeling of it—how could a chaste kiss feel so intense?—your lips wobbling as something in your heart bloats.

you feel simon’s lips stretch into a grin from where they’re ghosting above yours, and then he’s kissing you again, this time deeper and longer. you curl your arms around his neck, feeling like you’re being swept off your feet all over again.

because simon is not good with words, truly, but he’s managed to swing an axe to the cornerstone of your self-doubt and made it crumble.

.

“oh god,” jo sobs in your arms, the two of you snuggled up under your sheets. “that was a joke! i promise!”

“i know,” you say, giggling. “i swear jo, it’s not you, it’s me.”

she looks up at you, eyes shimmering with tears. “are you sure?”

“yeah,” you croon, bumping foreheads with her. “...‘sides, simon’s taking me somewhere to make up for, and i quote, ‘making you doubt how serious i am about you’.”

she sniffs. “…permission to make a joke again?”

you grab your plushie from somewhere behind you and smack her ass with it.

“ow!”

“stop being dramatic—that didn’t hurt.”

[giggles nervously] so uh. 🏃🏻

#hockey au #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #cod x reader #f!reader #suns #guys. guys forgive me for my super self indulgence again 😭 #this ones long-ish again whew boy

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 8 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley has to preserve your dignity in the most awkward way possible. He's ready for a relaxing few days off at Christmas with your parents, but their visit gets off to a rocky start. But by the end of their trip, Bradley is once again feeling as hopeful for the future as you are. 

Warnings: Fluff, smut, titty fuck, swearing, angst, pregnancy

Length: 5300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

It might have been amusing if it was happening to someone else, but it definitely wasn't. It was happening to him. Bradley looked at the time as he backed his Bronco out of the driveway at top speed and took off down the street. You and he should have been leaving now to get to the airport on time to pick up your parents, but that was just going to have to wait.

"Jesus Christ," he growled, barely pausing at the stop sign after he made sure nobody was coming. Bradley Ross was still packing up his truck not five minutes ago, so he couldn't have gone far. Through polite conversation, Bradley knew that the contractor lived a little further south in Coronado, so hopefully he could catch up to him quickly.

Bradley loved you with his whole being. You were the smartest, most capable person he had ever met. You also had pregnancy hormones on the brain, and if you weren't currently forgetting full conversations you'd had, you were falling asleep on a whim. Getting dirty photos from you was always a welcome distraction, but right now, you needed to focus a little extra on everything. Apparently having two Bradleys around was not the best idea.

"Yes," Bradley gasped, hitting the accelerator even though he was approaching a red light. The white Ross Construction pickup truck was stopped and waiting, and he cut into the other lane to pull up right next to it. "Shit," he groaned, realizing he couldn't roll his passenger side window down from the driver's seat. He started honking his horn before the light turned green, and the other Bradley turned to look at him in surprise, but his expression immediately melted into apprehension. It was obvious he'd seen the pictures. "God damn it."

After gesturing wildly for him to pull over, the light turned green, and Bradley was relieved when the truck moved through the intersection and then stopped in front of the first house. He pulled the Bronco over in front of the truck and hopped out as soon as he killed the engine. This was about to be one of the most awkward conversations of his life, and he'd had his share.

"Hey," he said as calmly as he could as the other man put his window down. Then he cleared his throat and sighed. "You may have received a text message from my wife in error."

He was met with bright red cheeks and guilt ridden eyes, and Bradley felt his hands curl into fists at his sides as his nostrils flared. Fucking hell, this man had seen your tits.

"Uh, I'm assuming that the mix-up occurred because of our names?" he asked. Bradley could see his phone sitting in the cupholder, and he wanted to snap it in half. 

"That's right," he replied through gritted teeth. How the fuck was he supposed to proceed here? He needed to make sure your dignity was as intact as it could possibly be at this point, and if he had to get a little aggressive, he would. "Mind letting me see your phone?"

The other man reached for it slowly, and Bradley watched him unlock it as he said, "I only saw the message preview when I started driving."

"But you saw it," Bradley snapped, rubbing his temple as he held out his other hand palm side up.

"Yeah."

Once the phone was in his hand, he confirmed that the message was still unread. At least there was that. While Bradley Ross may have seen your glorious breasts for himself, at least he'd only have his memory to rely on from here on out. He took his time and deleted each of the three photos. Then he emptied out the trash folder. Then he double checked that there was no trace of the photos anywhere before he deleted your contact information from the man's address book. After one more quick sweep to be sure his wife's tits were nowhere to be found, he handed the phone back to the abashed looking man.

He wasn't going to apologize for chasing him down, and he wasn't going to threaten him for something you started. Instead Bradley merely muttered, "Happy holidays," before returning to his Bronco and sliding into the seat.

He didn't realize how much his heart was pounding until he was sitting there in the silent interior, watching the Ross Construction truck pull away. He dug your phone out of his pocket while he started to calm down. When he entered your pass code, he saw that you had a new text from Cam but nothing else. Out of extreme caution, he blocked the other Bradley's phone number before deleting it from your address book, and then he started up the engine.

"What the hell am I supposed to do with her?" he muttered to himself as he pulled a u-turn and headed home. He thought about spanking you, but he was certain you'd just enjoy yourself. Frankly he would too. He wanted to lecture you about always checking the recipient before trying to send him something dirty, but he knew you probably already felt badly enough. When he pulled into the driveway, he saw you peering out the front window, waiting for him. Then he walked inside with his fingers wrapped around both phones and found you standing in the middle of the living room.

"What happened?" you asked, worrying your hands in front of your pregnant belly. Your eyes were wide, and you bit down on your lip, clearly beyond concerned to hear what he had to say. All thoughts of scolding you fled his mind, and when he opened his arms, you rushed toward him. 

"I took care of it. Deleted everything from his phone."

"On my god," you moaned, your belly pressing against him as you sighed in relief. He wrapped his arms around you as you settled against his chest and looked up at him. "Did he see the photos?" you asked softly. When he nodded, you winced. "I'm so sorry, Roo."

Tears filled your eyes as he sighed and looked around the room. The house was spotlessly clean, and the mostly undecorated Christmas tree was standing tall in the corner by the window. Everything was ready for your parents to get here, but neither of you made a move to leave. 

"I'm not mad at you, Sweetheart. It's not like you sent them to him on purpose," he whispered.

"I would never," you replied, voice filled with conviction. "These are all yours. And soon to be Rosie's." You patted your chest, and Bradley smiled.

"She's the only one I'm dividing my time with." He kissed your forehead. "We should leave to get your parents before it gets any later."

You agreed, and Bradley got you all buckled into the red Bronco. Of course there was a ton of traffic now that it was the peak of rush hour, and shortly into the drive you told him, "My dad texted me. They already landed."

"They're just going to have to wait," he replied, trying his best to merge onto the highway.

You were silent for a few minutes while you messed around on your phone, but finally you asked him, "Did you at least like the pictures?"

Bradley glanced at you from the corner of his eyes. "Of your tits?"

"Yeah," you whispered. "You didn't say anything about them."

He was practically ramming into other cars to try to find a spot in the parking garage at San Diego International after chasing down another man and forcefully demanding he hand over his phone, and you were honestly worried about whether or not he liked the way your boobs looked in the photos. He barked out a laugh as he swung the Bronco into a spot and parked. 

"What?" you asked, frowning at him. "You've been very vocal about them!"

He gestured for your phone, and you handed it to him before crossing your arms over your chest. Even though the two of you were late, he took a moment to really look at the photos in question again. He liked the first one where it looked like you were about to spill out of your bra. The second was just as nice since you were showing off your breasts and your wedding rings. And the third one was the main event, literally a vivid depiction of where he currently most enjoyed letting himself unload after he fucked you.

"Yes, Baby Girl. I like the pictures. In fact, I love them." He texted them from your phone to his, making sure he had the correct name selected before he gave your phone back. "And I'd love to see them in person when we get home later if you're in the mood."

You rolled your eyes and squeezed your thighs together. "I'll almost certainly be in the mood," you informed him as you opened your door.

"Oh, one more thing," he said, and you glanced back at him as he smirked. "How about you let me be the resident photographer for the time being?"

---------------------------------

Your mom and dad looked annoyed when the two of you showed up late to retrieve them from the airport after weeks of assuring them that you'd pick them up without issue, but as soon as they saw your belly, they calmed down.

"Look at you!" your mom gushed, rubbing her hands together before placing them on your bump. "How's our sweet granddaughter?" she asked as Bradley started to collect their luggage.

"Very active," you told her with a smile. "She'll start doing somersaults if you wait there long enough."

"Really?" your dad chimed in, coming to stand with your mom after helping Bradley. That's how you ended up with four hands plastered to your midsection while your husband stood behind you and kissed your ear.

"Want to tell them her name?" he whispered, his lips brushing your skin. You had to assume he wasn't too upset about Bradley Ross and the boob photos if he was still just as loving as always. 

Of course your mom heard every word he said and practically shouted, "You picked out a name?"

You nodded as your parents both stared at you. "Rose."

"Rose!" your mom gasped like she'd just won the lottery.

"That's pretty," your dad mused, and that's when the baby started thumping in what seemed like delight. "I feel her!"

"So do I! Hi, Rose! It's your Nana!"

You desperately wanted to go home and eat dinner, but you stood there until your parents wore themselves out asking questions and trying to feel the baby move. Eventually Bradley said, "You must be tired and hungry. There's food at the house, and the attic renovation is done and ready for you."

"Perfect," your mom replied. "You can just tuck us away up there, and we'll be out of your hair."

"That's the idea," Bradley muttered, and you elbowed him hard in the ribs as he led the way outside, pulling the massive suitcase behind him. "Watch it, Sweetheart, or I'll tell them why we were late."

"You wouldn't," you whispered.

He just shrugged. "You think I care if they know you tried to send me dirty pictures? Really, it just shows how much you love me."

You rolled your eyes as he smirked while your parents chattered away about how crazy it was to spend Christmas in California for the first time ever.

-------------------------

Bradley thought your parents would be exhausted and in bed as soon as he started cleaning up from dinner, but your dad headed for the nursery to inspect the new furniture which was still in the boxes, and your mom started unpacking your childhood Christmas ornaments from her carry on bag.

"Oh!" you gushed as she handed some to you. "I forgot about these! Bradley, look! It's my handprint from when I was four!"

You were holding up a seriously hideous green and purple Play Doh blog that Tramp was trying to lick, but he couldn't help but smile. "Maybe we can make one with Rosie each year," he mused as you hung it on the tree.

"We have to," you told him as you unwrapped another homemade ornament. You got lost in conversation with your mom, so he wandered to the nursery to see what your dad was up to.

"Hey," he said from the doorway with a little chuckle. Your dad was sitting on the floor with all of the crib parts laid out around him.

"Just checking to make sure everything's here," he muttered, counting a handful of screws. "We're probably going to want to get started on this project first thing in the morning so we have time to get it all done."

"Sure," Bradley agreed. "Thanks again for agreeing to help me with it."

"Happy to help," he murmured, adjusting his reading glasses to peruse the instruction booklet. "Happy to help." Your dad stood and rubbed his back before following Bradley out of the room. They found you and your mom out on the back patio with the lights on, looking at the massive playset.

"It's so cute!" your mom said.

"It's over the top," you responded. "Bradley just had to have it."

"He's going to be a good dad. Give him a break. I can't believe he built this thing by himself."

"Jake helped him," you told her.

"Jake helped a tiny bit," Bradley announced, and you turned to look at him with a little smile. "You know what would be fun?"

"Hmm?" you hummed, and your parents both turned to look at him.

"We could put strings of lights on the playset."

"That's a great idea, Roo!" The three of you were immediately discussing whether the lights should be white or colorful, and you were clapping your hands in excitement. Having your parents out for a California Christmas, especially with the Nugget coming soon, just felt right. The tree he picked out already looked better covered in your ornaments, and your dad was going to help him knock some of his projects off his to-do list. 

He didn't feel awkward in his own skin like he did on occasion when he missed his mom so much it hurt. She would have loved every second of your pregnancy. She would have been on the phone every night, bugging the hell out of him, but Bradley would do anything to have her back. When you slipped your hand into his, he pulled you closer and said, "I'm happy your parents are here."

You kissed him right in front of them and wrapped your hand around the back of his neck. He vaguely heard your parents say they were going to head up to bed and to have a good night which was convenient, because after everything that happened today, he was ready to be alone with you.

"Come on," he whispered when you broke the kiss. "I want to snuggle with you and Rosie." He called Tramp inside, and you led him toward the bedroom with your hand held loosely in his. But you didn't head for the bathroom or climb into bed. Instead you pulled his shirt off and tugged down his gym shorts and underwear before pointing to the bed.

"Have a seat," you told him, his cock shamelessly responding to you, already bobbing excitedly in anticipation of what was to come. Wordlessly, he took a seat at the edge of the bed and watched you pull your shirt over your belly and all the way off. His lips and hands were on your bump, and when you pulled your sports bra over your head, his mouth found your breasts. 

"I've got a little treat for you, Roo," you told him, brushing your fingers through his hair as he pulled your nipple between his lips. You moaned softly and added, "For being the best husband earlier and chasing down the man I accidentally texted dirty pictures to."

He grunted and grinned as he let your nipple pop free. "This is all mine," he said as he gestured at your body, and you nodded vigorously. 

"Absolutely." When you took a step toward your nightstand, he whined softly, but when you returned to him with a small bottle of lube in your hand, his eyes lit up.

"What are you doing, Baby Girl?" His voice sounded excited even to his own ears, and he had to reach down to stroke himself as you drizzled the clear lube onto your own breasts before tossing the bottle aside. "What are you gonna let me do to you?"

He swallowed hard as you ran both of your hands slowly along your tits until they were glistening. "I'm going to do all the work," you told him. "Just relax." When you went to kneel in front of him, Bradley helped you get down with his hands on your biceps. And then you took his cock between your lips as your silky, slick fingers glided across his balls.

"Fuck," he sighed, enjoying the sight of your shiny breasts, and a second later his length was sandwiched beautifully between them. "Oh my god."

You smiled up at him as you squeezed your tits together until he was grunting loudly, and then you moved your body slowly up and down. He watched his own cock disappear between your breasts and then reappear over and over. He was mesmerized by the smooth glide and the immaculate view he had of your face and chest. 

"Feel good?" you asked, and he nodded like an idiot as he ran his thumb along the perfect curve of your cheek. "You can touch me, Daddy."

"Oh hell." He let his thumb drift down to your nipple as you held him in place and fucked him with your tits until his balls were tight and his leg was shaking. You started kissing at his tip each time it was near your lips, and he had to grab at the bedding to keep himself in check.

After a few more slow movements, you reached for his hands and placed them where yours had been, on the outside of each breast. He squeezed himself in there tight as you said, "Go for it, Roo." Once you were holding onto his thighs to keep yourself steady, Bradley fucked your tits and played with your nipples until he was whining your name. 

He knew the attic renovation had been a great idea, but he was surprised it was paying off so soon. Your body felt magical as he went a little faster, and then he was spurting his cum everywhere. Your chin, lips and chest were painted white with his seed, and it dripped down to your belly as your tongue darted out to taste him. 

"Holy shit," he panted, looking everywhere for his phone. "I need a picture of this."

You reached into the pocket of his shorts which were on the floor and handed it to him. He took pictures of the pretty mess he made, including one where you were rubbing his cum along your skin. The swell of your belly was beautiful with his baby inside, and Bradley moaned as you licked the bead of cum from the tip of his cock. 

"You ready to snuggle?" you asked him, turning to kiss the inside of his thigh.

"Yeah." He really felt like he had it all.

----------------------------

In the days leading up to Christmas, Bradley and your dad managed to get the furniture built for the nursery with time to spare. "Can you pick a paint color, Sweetheart?" Bradley asked you on the twenty-third, holding up your final two favorites. "Your dad and I can probably get the room painted tomorrow if we go to the store today."

You looked back and forth between the sky blue sample and the rosy pink sample. "I love them both," you whispered, chewing on the tip of your thumb, indecision washing over you.

Bradley turned them around to look at them and seemed to have the same issue. "I have an idea. Will you let me make the decision?"

"Absolutely," you sighed, pleased that you didn't have to pull that trigger. "Whatever you want."

They sent you out for lunch with your mom and Nat on Christmas eve, which actually turned into a stop at the mall with all of the last minute shoppers. You didn't need to buy anything else, but you helped Nat pick out a few things, and your mom seemed amused. 

When you got home, all of the windows were open because the house smelled like paint, and your dad and Bradley were assembling something on the living room floor that you didn't know had even been purchased. "What's that?" you asked, eyeing your husband who couldn't seem to help but go overboard. "Bradley, I thought I put a cap on your spending for the baby!"

"It's from us," your parents said in unison.

"Oh."

"Oh," Bradley said, jokingly mimicking your voice. "I told you I was going to behave, and I have been behaving."

You leaned down and kissed the top of his head. "It is a chair?"

"Merry Christmas," your mom said. "It's a glider chair for the nursery. It'll be easier to feed her next to her crib so you can put her right back in bed when she's done. Not that my granddaughter will be anything but the sweetest little girl and most amazing sleeper."

Your eyes welled with tears as you hugged her. "Thanks for the overpriced chair. I love it."

Bradley stood with a soft grunt and reached for your hand. "If the smell isn't bothering you too much, can I show you the paint?"

"Yes," you said, wiping your eyes on his undershirt. You were suddenly so overwhelmed by how your parents came out for the holiday, but more than anything they were helping you get things ready for the next stage of life. Bradley led you down the hallway to the closed door and turned the knob. When he flicked the light on, you gasped. Three walls were blue, and the fourth wall was the dusty rose color you liked so much.

"I was thinking we could get the cloud decals for the blue walls and make the rosy wall look like a sunset," he said softly. "That could be pretty, right?"

You were fully crying now as you hugged him. "I think that sounds beautiful."

He kissed you as his hand settled on the sweet spot on your belly where he could usually feel a kick. "I just want my girls happy."

"We're happy with you."

The two of you spent a few minutes looking at the crib and the new dresser and the changing table. The bedding still needed to be washed, but it was folded on top of the dresser, and you ran your hand along the pastel airplanes and clouds. "I can't wait to meet her."

Bradley held you close and said, "I hope she's just like you."

When you finally walked back out to the kitchen, you were still swiping at your tears. Your mom was putting together some simple finger foods for Christmas Eve dinner, and your dad was putting the finishing touches on the new chair. There were Christmas carols playing softly through your wireless speaker, and you just didn't think the tears were going to stop.

You turned to your husband and quietly sobbed, "I wish your parents were here. I think about them so much, and I hate that I never got to meet either one of them."

"Shhh. Don't cry, Sweetheart," he crooned pulling you to his chest again. "I don't want you to cry." He was quiet for a moment as you looked at the tree, your tears turning the lights into a streaky mess. "My mom would have loved you. And she would have been over the moon for the baby. Just like your parents are. I know it's not fair. I think about it every fucking day, but I don't want you to cry when we still have so much."

You clung to him a little tighter as Rosie did a somersault. "You're right."

Your parents didn't seem concerned when Bradley held you a while longer. Then the four of you ate dinner, and you dipped literally everything into your favorite hot sauce. Then you brought the presents out from their hiding spot in the bathroom closet and set them under the tree while Bradley cleaned up the kitchen. Your mom and dad were already fast asleep by the time you climbed into bed and yawned.

"Can I read to you from the Nugget Notebook?" Bradley asked as he pulled the covers back on his side and got in as well.

"Of course," you whispered, tossing your glasses on your nightstand and snuggling up next to him.

He cleared his throat and you drifted off to sleep to the sound of his voice. "Hey, Rosie. Your mom is so funny. She thinks I've been buying you an exorbitant amount of stuff. She's completely correct. I have been. But you know who's even worse than me? Your grandparents."

-----------------------------

Bradley never let his expectations get ahead of himself on holidays. He spent two decades mostly on his own, doing very little celebrating. But that was before you. By seven o'clock in the morning, you were yanking him out of bed. When he tried to reach for your belly to say good morning, you swatted his hands away and gave him a quick kiss. "Rosie says Merry Christmas. Now let's get up."

"Jesus," he grunted. "What's the rush, Sweetheart?"

You kissed him again and said, "I promised your cousin Brenda we would FaceTime with her, and it's already late in Virginia."

He just stared at you. Somehow you always remembered everything and everyone. He knew you sent cards to his family members, and he knew Brenda would appreciate talking to the two of you. "You're the sweetest thing," he said as he climbed out of bed. 

He pulled on his gray sweatpants before following you out of the bedroom. Your parents were already up wearing their matching pajamas, and the whole house smelled like cinnamon rolls and coffee. "Merry Christmas," your mom greeted, giving him a kiss on the cheek, and Bradley did a double take when he saw the tree. There were at least twice as many presents there now as when he went to bed. 

"What's this?" he asked. "It actually looks like Santa came."

"Oh, we just brought a few things with us," your mom said. "Things for Rose. And some treats for Tramp."

"Jesus," he muttered as you handed him the iPad. "The baby isn't even here yet, and they just keep getting worse."

You nodded as you dialed Brenda's number, and when she answered, you asked how she was and showed off your bump before handing the call over to Bradley to have a few minutes alone with his mom's favorite cousin. Then he ate six cinnamon rolls and gave himself a stomach ache before it was time to open the enormous pile of presents.

There were onesies and pacifiers and bibs. Toys and a crib mobile that matched the bedding. Bottles and diapers and teething rings and little floral bath towels. Bradley was completely overwhelmed, and he kind of felt terrible when he handed your parents the set of cutting boards and the laser level you and he picked out for them.

"This is for you." He looked up as you held out a box with a smile on your face. "Well, it's for you and for Rosie."

Bradley's heart skipped a beat as you and your parents watched him unwrap a box, and when he pulled the lid off, his face broke out into a huge smile. You and he had matching shirts, and now he'd be able to match with his Nugget, too. "I love it," he said softly, holding up a large shirt and a very small one. The pink floral design was the same color as the bedroom wall he'd just painted yesterday, and the fabric was very soft. "Thank you, Sweetheart." 

He kissed you and handed you the tiny box he had tucked back behind all the others. He felt a little nervous giving it to you with your parents here, but it didn't really matter. They would see it eventually anyway. When you opened the little jewelry box and met his eyes, you said, "Help me put it on." He leaned in closer and unclasped your necklace chain. You wore the airplane charm and the little dog tag that said Baby Girl every day, and now you'd have another one with them. "It's absolutely perfect," you whispered as you slid the gold rose onto the chain.

"Just like my girls," he promised. "When she's old enough, I'll buy one for her, too, so you can match."

"I love you." You mashed your lips against his as you crawled to his lap, and Bradley didn't stop your parents from making a detour to the kitchen to start prepping for dinner.

-------------------------------

After Christmas dinner, the four of you drove around in the red Bronco to look at lights. You made a quick trip to drop off presents for Jeremiah, and then you and Bradley stopped by to say goodbye to Bob. He looked like he was glued to Maria, so you took that as a good sign.

"I'll never get over the palm trees covered in lights," your mom remarked from the backseat while Christmas music played on the radio.

You played with your new necklace charm as you said, "I think there are a lot of things here that will always look weird to us."

"We're hardy east coast people," Bradley murmured as he turned back onto your street. "Look, they decorated a cactus," he said in disgust, and you started laughing. 

"Is that house for sale?" your dad asked, pointing out the window. "It's hard to tell in the dark."

"Yeah," Bradley replied. "It's been on the market for a few weeks. It looks like it needs a lot of work."

"The last thing we need is a fixer upper," your mom told your dad, and your heart beat a little faster. 

"Dad, are you going to retire?" you asked, too afraid to even ask the more pertinent question on your mind as you played with Bradley's fingers on your lap.

"It's within the realm of possibilities," your dad replied. "Your mom wants to move a little closer to the two of you."

"Three!" she said. "Rose will be here before we know it!"

"The three of you," your dad corrected.

This wasn't the first time this topic had been discussed, but you didn't want to get your hopes up. "Are you still thinking California?"

You dad laughed. "Your mom is obsessed with the Coronado housing market."

"Obsessed is a strong word," she said, and you gave Bradley's hand a little squeeze.

"Tell me we just finished the attic for nothing," your husband mumbled as your parents argued in the backseat, but you just leaned in and kissed him.

"Aww, come on, Roo. Rosie can make one of those rooms her bedroom in a few years," you told him. "You know, so there's separation."

He grunted in approval, and then your dad asked, "Could you leave the car keys out for us to drive around a bit in the morning before you take us to the airport? The two of you can sleep in while we check out the area a little bit more."

"Absolutely," you told him as Bradley pulled back into the driveway of your cute Craftsman with all the extra bedrooms and the strings of lights around the windows. Your parents climbed out of the back, but you tugged on Bradley's hand to keep him in place. "Can I have another one of my million orgasms while they're driving around tomorrow morning?"

He ran his rough thumb along your cheek and kissed you. "My Baby Girl can have absolutely anything she fucking wants."

-------------------------------

Roo gives the best gifts. The nursery is virtually finished and so is the playset. Now we wait for the Nugget to finish cooking. A shower and a babymoon and trouble are on the way soon. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[obae-me]

Happy Birthday to my favorite boy who I love with my whole soul!

He's ostentatious, yes. It's hard to think otherwise with his title of Pride, his extravagant clothes, his dramatic entrances, and his peacock-like aura; always strutting about with his head held high and his metaphorical and oftentimes literal wings held out fluttering behind him.

So, it's easy to forget how much he loves simplicity. How he craves normalcy.

You'll fully admit you had misjudged him when his first birthday with you rolled around. Rumors forced visions of Diavolo putting a screeching halt over the whole kingdom, making everyone come out of their homes and business in droves just to celebrate. He'd have a limo or flying carriage take him to an exclusive five-star restaurant, drinking millennia old Demonus so expensive, one drop could have Mammon rolling in money for months. All the while decked up to the nines- the tens, even.

But, you quickly learned that those symbols of opulence were not what he wanted.

However, this year, you still found doubt clawing at your insides. Was this enough? His brothers assured you that what you all had planned was more than adequate, but it was still difficult to think so. You wanted to give him the world... Now you knew Diavolo's struggles firsthand when it came to the fallen angel.

After he had fallen asleep, you'd rolled over and disabled the timer on his phone. Mammon had already somehow snuck in and stolen Lucifer's alarm clock, eliminating his backup (which might already be sold at this point). He could sleep in now. Diavolo had already given Lucifer the day off, but old habits died hard, and everyone assumed he'd be up before he needed to.

The plan was set. He'd wake up to already-made coffee he could sip in bed before lumbering down to breakfast in his pajamas. There would be no arguing, the house would be clean, and everyone was ready to participate in a historical museum tour that was showcasing demon adaptations of human technologies. One of which was the first magical rendition of an assembly line.

Then you'd head out to have tea and snacks in the Royal Gardens. It would be just you, him, and Diavolo (with Barbatos serving of course) while the others set up a party at the House. The only ones attending would be family and close friends. It would be then that he opened presents, ate his favorite homemade dinner, and drank a little in the company of others while playing different games. Then while the night was fairly young, you'd offer to take him away.

As you rolled over in bed, listening to his light breathing as he slept soundly, you couldn't help but feel both nervous and excited for what you had planned for him. For months, you had tried scouting for the perfect gift. Was this...enough? It deviated from what you would normally plan to get him. It wasn't a cursed record or a set of cufflinks or a tie or anything like that. This year, you'd managed to find a music box. It played a lovely little tune that had the sort of melody that forced you to go quiet, chills running down your spine. But this wasn't just any music box. No. Under certain conditions, it would show the listener the memory that would make them the happiest in that moment. And the conditions were easy, one only needed to turn the winding key exactly six times.

Thinking about presenting it to him made you all giddy inside, knowing that he could use it whenever he felt particularly stressed...but also more anxiety allowed itself to flood your nerves. What if it had somehow broken in the spot you'd hidden the gift in?! Did you check it twice last night? Yes. But stranger things had happened in this house, broken things were actually quite common. So, you'd check on it again...just to be sure.

You eyed Lucifer as you slipped out of bed, keeping the mattress from bobbing too much as you tip-toed your way out of his room. Straight to the planetarium you went, assured by the youngest sibling that he'd keep it safe by shooing Lucifer out of the area if he got too close, which was so common already the eldest shouldn't get suspicious. Slipping your way into the room, you rushed over to the specific chair you had hid it behind. The ground was cold as you sat down on it, your legs crossed over each other as you sighed in relief as the intact music box was pulled into your lap.

"Might as well give it a test run," you muttered to no one but yourself as the key clicked six times. Music poured out into the room as you opened the lid. Mist seemed to shimmer a little in the air, a scene projected into the magic. Faint voices played into your mind, syllables almost twinkling in time with the notes.

"You worry too much." A familiar voice had you smile a bit sheepishly, an old memory of Lucifer shaking his head at you being the music box's memory of choice. "I've told you time and time again that you don't need to fret over impressing me, or whatever that silly word you said was." Ah, yes...you remembered this now...it was some time ago, worrying over some kind of RAD gala. Even now you weren't exactly sure what the specific thing you had panicked so grievously over was, but you had been so anxious over letting everyone down, especially the one who you held so close to your heart. In the image, Lucifer grabbed your face, looking so deeply into your eyes, it was as if he were reaching through the haze to assure you all over again. "And if I must, I will continue to tell you time and time and time again, even if my jaw must break from the strain. So take a breath, relax your shoulders, and remember that--"

"I love you," something echoed. You jumped, your arms pulling the music box close to your body instead of launching it in the air. You shut the lid as you glanced over your shoulder.

"L-Luci..."

The demon chuckled a bit as he tucked the fabric of his robe tighter against his body as he came up behind you, getting on his knees and resting his chin sleepily on your shoulder. "Should I be offended or pleased that you're sneaking off in the middle of the night to meet up with another me?"

You audibly sighed. So he saw... "Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"Answering a question with a question are we?" As he mused he wrapped his arms around your torso.

"Answering my question to your question with another question?" you quipped right back.

Even without fully seeing him you could feel his eyes roll. He gave you a squeeze and pressed his cheek right next to yours. "Am I to assume...perhaps rather selfishly...if all the secrecy is to imply that this interesting little thing is mine?"

A long pause settled between you. Was this...a bit of disappointment bubbling inside you? "It was supposed to be a surprise..."

If anyone knew the tragedy of derailed plans, it would be him. He hummed in apologetic understanding. "I can pretend like I didn't see it."

That actually had you chuckle a bit, shaking your head. You scooted on the floor to turn around to face him. Grabbing one of his hands, you placed the gift inside his palm. "Happy birthday, Lucifer. May this uplift you in those darker moments when I can't be there. May your birthday this year add to the pool of happy memories to choose from. May I be by your side for another birthday, and the birthday after that, and so many more to come." You leaned forward and kissed his cheek, chuckling at his slightly wild bed-hair that you were just now getting a good look at.

He went a bit silent, and you could've sworn as his eyes shut for a moment, a little bit of color came to his cheeks. He set your gift off to the side of himself as his arms wrapped around you once more, pulling you into a tight embrace. "And may I get to tell you time and time and time and time again...how much I love you."

#giving him so many smooches #Is this any good or not? who knows but I needed to do something for my husband this year #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x mc #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines

[lea-russo333]

I Don't Think I Can Walk

kerstin casparij x reader

warnings: 18+ smut

word count: 1200

proof read: sort of? not really

summary: Kerstin makes you squirt for the first time.

a/n: hi! I haven't posted in a while and this has been in my drafts for a bit, so I thought why not post it.

anyways, I have been working on the requests that have been sent through, but I have hit a little bit of writers' block so I'm not sure when they're going to be posted (they will be at some point). but here's a Kerstin smut for everyone in the meantime! (the end is alittle rushed not gonna lie).

You through your head back, squeezing your eyes shut as you felt her tongue run through your folds again. You tried to shut your thighs, trying to push her head away from your aching core, feeling too sensitive from the two previous orgasm she’d already given you. She wasn't having it though, pushing herself closer to you, latching on to your puffy clit. 

“Fuck Kerstin!” you moaned, hips snapping upwards into her face.  

“Yeah baby” she said pulling away slightly, her lips glistening with your juices, her calloused finger moving to rub soft circles on your abused bud. 

“I can't-” you gasped out, fingers grasping tightly at the sheets “too much”. 

“Oh, my poor baby” she removed her fingers from you, crawling up from the space between your legs, kissing away the trail of tears that began to fall from your eyes. 

“You can give me one more, can't you baby?” she said, her lips finding their way to your own, kissing you passionately. She pushed her Tongue into your mouth, swirling it around with your own before you softly sucked on it, tasting yourself. She pulled away, eyes searching for your own, her hand coming up to stroke your face. 

“See how good you taste baby?” she leaned down to kiss your neck, smirking slightly as you let out a small moan when she sucked particularly hard at your sweet spot. 

“Wanna taste you again” she voiced, her body leaving a trail of kisses along your body as she made her way down to her original position between your thighs, kissing the plush skin before looking up at you. 

“Are you gonna let me baby?” she questioned her hands slowly inching closer to your core. “You gonna let me taste you again?” her hand reached your core making you gasp, her fingers gliding over your hole, finding the new arousal that had gathered there. 

She looked up at you again, seaching your eyes for an answer. She looked so beautiful between your legs, eyes blown, your wetness covering lips and her hair sticking to her forehead, sure you found her beautiful all the time but moments like this had to be one of your favorites. 

“You still with me, pretty girl?” You were brought out of your daydreams by her soft voice and the slight tap to your left thigh. You nodded at her, bring your hand to your mouth, biting on the delicta skin around your nails. 

“Whatcha thinking about love?” she said, tracing soothing patterns along the marks shed left of your thighs. 

“you” you replied honestly making her chuckle slightly. 

“Do you want this?” she asked, waiting for your consent before she went any further.  

You nodded your head at her again, watching her shake her head in reply, opening her mouth up to speak again. 

“I need you to use your word for me baby, do you want this?” she asked again, pleased this time as you let out a verbal answer. 

“Yes, I want you Kerstin” she smiled at you, placing one last kiss to both your thighs. 

“there's my good girl” she said before diving in. 

You moaned at the praise, hands quickly coming down to tangle in her hair, pushing her further into you as she lapped at your cunt. She moved her mouth upwards, taking in your clit and sucking harshly, moaning when you tugged her hair after.  

You felt that familiar coil in your stomach start to grow as she continued to eat you out like a starved woman, switching between flicking and sucking at your clit.  

“Mm, fuck! K-Kerstin" you through your head back, arching your back as she slipped two fingers inside of you, moving them at a fast pace while she lapped at your clit. 

“You doin so good for me baby” she mumbled into your throbbing bud, sending vibration through your core. You moaned loudly, untangling your fingers from her head, reaching out in search for her other hand. She grabbed your lacing your fingers together. 

She looked up at you, watching the way your chest rose and fell with each jagged breath, the way your stomach began to tighten, she knew you were close. 

“You close baby?” she said, pulling away from you slightly, curling her fingers into you, smirking when she watched your back arch up when she hit that spot inside you. “You gonna cum for me love? Gonna make a mess on my fingers f’me” she breathed out, quickly going back to sucking at your clit. 

“Yes, I'm so clo- please don't stop baby” you replied, rutting your cunt into her face, trying to gain for friction. You could feel the coil in your stomach getting tighter and tighter, your legs begging to tremble. 

“Come for me baby”  

That was all you needed to hear, your thighs clamped around her head as white-hot flashes of pleasure ran up your spine and through your body, moaning her name loudly as you came. Kerstin's fingers struggling to move as your pussy tightened around her, eyes stuck on your core, watching with a cocky smirk as liquid squired out of your sensitive cunt, soaking her hand and the bed sheets. 

Your legs began to tremble as Kerstin continued to fuck you through your third orgasm of the morning, the feeling quickly becoming too much as your orgasm died down, the feeling over overstimulation kicking in.  

“Too much baby” you said while grabbing her wrist. A groan left your mouth as she pulled her fingers out of you, moving them up to her mouth and sucking them clean. 

“You taste she good baby, did so well for me” she crawled her way up to you, laying down on the other side of the bed and pulling you into her side. 

“You made me feel so fucking good” you said into her neck, kissing the skin softly. 

She chuckled at that, pecking the top of your head whilst tracing patterns along your hip. 

“I should hope so, you fuckin squirted baby”  

You shot up at that, looking down at the large wet patch that sat in the middle of the sheets. Your face heated up in embarrassment, eyes shutting before you mumbled an apology towards your girlfriend. 

“Sorry, I don-” you paused “I've never done that before” you looked down, fiddling with your fingers. 

“Hey, none of that okay” she grabbed your face, Turing you to meet her eyes “It was so fucking hot baby” she was quick to reassure you, pulling your body back into hers. 

“But what about the sheets” you said, looking up at her. 

“We can change them, I have more” she looked in your eyes “you did so well more me love” she pulled you in for a kiss, gentler than the others that were shared between the two of you this morning. 

“Come on let’s get your cleaned up, we’ve got to be at training in an hour” she pulled away, getting out of bed and walking towards your shared bathroom. 

“Babe!” you called out, stopping her in her tracks as she turned to look at you, raising her eyebrow at you. 

“I don't think I can walk”  

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #wsl #kerstin casparij #kerstin casparij x reader #kerstin casparij imagine #manchester city #wlw #womens football

[gffa]

The Acolyte's first two episodes were a mixed bag imo. The scenery and costumes and fight sequences are absolutely gorgeous, the show is visually stunning and feels a lot like Andor did, but there's something missing in the heart of this show. The entire first episode, with every reference and familiar point, I just felt like this was a show where someone had read a Wookiepedia article, rather than that they were actually that familiar with Star Wars. I'm not sure I could put my finger on everything why, it wasn't just one thing, but the worst thing for me was the way Vernestra was written. Nothing of her scenes felt like herself from the books, despite that, yes, she's reserved and a little uptight in the books, there was a warmth to her that barely came through here, she was very focused on how the Jedi would look politically or how they needed to discuss things instead of acting on the information they had--neither of those are bad things! She's not wrong! She just doesn't feel like Vernestra. The second episode was a lot better, when Sol and Mae had their conversation about her grief and he urged her to let it go, because what she wanted was revenge, and look what revenge had done to Mae, that felt like, yes, this scene nailed it! This scene understood the assignment. Sol is a great character so far, Osha is a great character so far, I'm vaguely intrigued by the mystery they're setting up about what happened 16 years ago, and while I wouldn't say it's a must-see series, you're fine to skip it so far, but I liked it well enough. It was fun to see Jedi in live action looking like they came straight out of the Clone Wars, just with fancier clothes, and I love that the Jedi are allowed different personalities and I like all of them. Sol is fantastic. Osha loves the Jedi, even after she left them. Indara was hot as all get out and went down like a Jedi badass, by saving someone. Jecki is pure delight. Yord is an uptight disaster whom I love, he's wound pretty tight but when push came to shove, he stood up for defending what was right, when he could plainly see Osha was innocent. The makeup is a mixed bag--Vernestra looks like she spent an hour in the makeup chair, meanwhile Jecki's Theelin makeup looked gorgeous. Some of the Jedi robes look a little stiff, a hint of high end cosplay to them, but Indara's looked great. So, watch it if that's you're interested in! I thought it was fun, visually stunning but lacking some heart in the opening episode, it leans a little fanon more than canon, but not intolerably so (some off-kilter but not horrible use of The Attachment Discourse), and I don't think it'll set Star Wars on fire or anything, but it's a fine addition to the collection.

#star wars #the acolyte #the acolyte spoilers #meta

[edgeray]

Hi there!

I just finish to read the rules for Arlecchino request, and I saw no specific illness/disease, so I will try to make my situation for everyone:

I have horrible knee pain to the point I'm close to faint because of it sometimes.

But to put it more accessible to everyone what about that:

Reader hurt themself during a mission but it was an intern injury, they hide it but Arlecchino noticed how they start walking weird and many other sign.. until Reader faint from the pain? How will Arlecchino react and what would she do?

Sorry if it disobey the rules and for any grammar mistake since English is not my first language ^^ (and I'm writing this while it's 12 am where I'm from ;/ )

Thank you if you are making this request, if not I still thank you for reading it until the end :)

I Am Fine in Your Arms

(Arlecchino x GN! Reader)

A/N - Hi, there anon! If you choose to request anon again, give yourself a name/emoji 🫶! I really appreciate you pertaining to my rules; not only do I want to make my x Reader's accessible to as many people, but I also don't want to misrepresent anyone or their experiences with that illness/condition especially since I myself most likely won't have them, so thanks for the consideration. I'm assuming by ‘intern injury’ you mean ‘internal injury,’ so that's what I'm writing based off. You're not breaking any of my rules but your concern is appreciated! Don't worry about it though. Your English is good, especially since it's not your first language :). Little bit rushed because I am tired and ti's 12AM. Thank you for your request! Content warnings / info - reader goes by ‘mother’ but gn! reader, semi-graphic details about injury, this weirdly had actual plot for some reason, 1.5k words

Although the vast majority of your duties was primarily serving the House of the Hearth and the Fourth Harbinger, as a member of the Fatui, it was mandatory for the Fatui to ensure you still held loyalties to the Tsaritsa. Typically, proof of your fidelity was through completing the occasional reconnaissance mission assigned to you every couple of months though this time you were given a different type of operation: direct action, specifically, assassination. 

Assassination wasn't necessarily your forte, but it was doable. In a few weeks, you'd stop scrubbing your hands incessantly in hopes of washing away the stained blood, and you would stop receiving dreams painted in red. At least, with reconnaissance, blood and violence could be avoided. Why you were assigned this particular assassination mission when there were much more suitable candidates, you could only assume. You had an inkling it had to do with some of the other Harbingers’ grudges and suspicions of your husband, and perhaps the chink in the Knave's impenetrable armor  would be you. Failure in this mission could quickly spiral into considerable consequences for you and Arlecchino, regardless if the designation was influenced by more untrustworthy Harbingers, so you couldn't afford to fail this anyways–not with how high profile this target was. 

You return to the House of the Hearth, splatters of blood still visible on your appearance despite your best attempts of cleaning up. At your arrival, some of the children rush to greet you, only to pause as they take in your exhausated form. You give them a weak smile, bending down and extending your arms to accept their eager embraces.

“M-mother!” the children exclaim as they swarm around you, their curious and anxious minds surely brimming with many questions. You hadn't told any of the children where you've gone to for the past few days, believing that there was no need to stir up such worries when the mission was going expectedly. You were wrong, however; no mission like the one they had given you should have been done alone, and yet the only one you could depend on was yourself and your vision. It was undeniably a test for you, and you had only scraped by with your life and the mission's success. Now, all you wanted to do was collapse in bed and hibernate for several weeks, your head filled with a dense fog and senses dulling.  

“Mother, there's blood on–” Barely able to hear the statement, you shake your head, dismissing the little girl's distress. “Don't worry, dear… it's not mine.”

With some effort, you pull away from the children and you hobble your way towards the living commons, your bruised ribs impelling pained grunts from you. 

“Someone…” you pant, placing your hand over your forehead. Leaning against the nearest wall, you shut your eyes, breathing in deeply as an attempt to relieve the ache. “Someone go get your Father.” 

Multiple feet scurry away after your command, but the remaining children around you overwhelm you with their burning questions of what they can do to help, what did you need, whether or not you needed medicine, and much more that you couldn't bother processing.  Gently, you push past them, making your way to you and Arlecchino's shared bedroom. 

“I'm sorry, children, I just need to lay down in private for a little bit, okay? Then I promise that I will be up soon, and we can make cookies. How does that sound?” You say to them in an effort to quell their anxiety and it works for the younger children. The older ones, however, you can tell they still carry some distress but they nod along for your sake.

Such good children. 

You enter your bedroom and shut the door, immediately peeling away your clothes caked in blood, not even bothering to go into your adjacent bathroom. After chucking the articles in the direction of the laundry basket, you dig through the wardrobe for your much more prefered uniform, the one you wore as ‘Mother.’ By that time, the door clicks, and your husband enters.

Arlecchino wastes no time in appearing by your side, her blackened hands wrapped around your hips, and guiding you to sit on the edge of the bed. You hoped that you were able to hide your wince in time when she touched you. You know your husband far too well to know that, despite her stoic expression, she is just as worried for you, if not more, than your children. There's that small knit in her brows, and her lips are curled the slightest bit more. She had always been fiercely protective of you. 

“My love, there's blood–” she starts, but you cut her off with a chuckle. “I know, one of the children already pointed it out.”

Then, your tone hardens. There's no need to wait to let her know. “I need to tell you something.”

“You should rest.”

You shake your head. “This comes first, Arlecchino.” 

“You just came back.” 

“Peruere,” you enunciate, quickly silencing the Knave. “I am fine,” you assure her with a stern tone but fond eyes. You let out a defeated huff, resorting to wrapping your arms around her and leaning your head against her shoulder to ease her and to conceal your pained expression as your body protested the movement. 

Remaining in that position, you brief her on your mission and every single detail to it. From the process of researching and finding the opportune time to, to the actual execution of the assassinatin, which proved to be much more complicated and difficult than you were able to account for. This was due to the lack of information given to you once you were assigned. With the absence of partners and the omittance of crucial details, it is, undoubtedly, an attempt to sabotage you and cause you to fail. The two of you discussed what to do, going forward in cases like this, as well as potential suspects, their motives, and wouldbe gains. With each growing minute, Arlecchino held you tighter and you leaned in closer. 

After the conversation finished, your husband quietly held you, without uttering another sound, for around half-an-hour, the two of you indulging in one another's company. You pull away with a kiss to her forehead.

“I promised the kids I would make cookies with them. Would you like some?” 

Arlecchino knows better than to say no. She gives you a curt nod. You hum with acknowledgement to her answer, standing up from sitting on the bed. Almost instantaneously, the moment you stabilize yourself on your feet, your vision grows black and an abrupt throbbing comes to your head. You stumble forward, but catch yourself. 

“Love–”

“I'm fine. Just stood up too fast,” you gruff, staggering your way towards the door but the limp is far too obvious. You only make it a few steps before you stumble over again, nearly hitting the floor if it weren't for Arlecchino’s quick reflexes. Stabbing pain surrounds you, and paired with your fatigued state, you no longer have the energy to ignore the agony. She cradles you in her arms and you glance up at her. Your sight swims, and her appearance keeps distorting before you. Clinging onto consciousness seems to be a losing battle. 

“The cookies…”

“Forget about the cookies. You said you were fine,” Arlecchino scolded through gritted teeth, with some frustration and anger in her voice. Placing her arm underneath your back and underneath your legs, she carries you bridal-style, already rushing towards the medical bay. 

“Stay awake for me. Stay awake,” it is a harsh demand, but you know it is nothing more than a desperate plea. Your eyelids droop and you close your eyes.

Arlecchino lets out an expletive under her breath, quickening her pace as she barges into the room. The specialized doctor for the House of the Hearth is startled, but the Harbinger's intense glower tells the doctor all she needs to know. 

“Find out what is wrong with her, and fix it. Now,” the Harbinger orders, and the doctor goes into work immediately once your body is placed on the bed. 

The Knave soundlessly watches the doctor's each and every action, refusing to budge by your side. Although she knows that medical treatment is not her expertise, Arlecchino cannot help but critique her doctor in her thoughts. Not fast enough, not effective enough, not enough for her darling who could be experiencing unbearable pain now.

The doctor works until she assures the Harbinger that everything that could be done is, and that you will wake in the following morning. Arlecchino wordlessly thanks the doctor but her hand that clasps yours doesn't move for even one movement. Eventually, night falls. Climbing into the small bed, she tenderly wraps her arms around you, unable to be pulled apart from you until she knows your safety is guaranteed. Underneath her skin, seething rage boils for the coworkers who try to deprive her of her authority and power, but most of all, for causing you in this state.

The next morning, Arlecchino's eyes flutter open when she feels the warm body next to her stir. She awakens to your soft smile.

“I said I was fine, didn't I?” You greet her with a twinkle in your eyes. 

Arlecchino's heart swells.

#arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x you #arlecchino #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact fic #genshin impact fanfics #genshin fics #edgeray.writes #edgeray.requests

[lovelytsunoda]

purple haze // charles leclerc

summary: writing a novel is a long an arduous process. luckily for y/n, she has a very supportive partner in crime, and when it all works out, he's the only person she would want by her side.

pairing: charles leclerc x author reader

warnings: alcohol consumption, talk of deadlines, book referenced is a good girls guide to murder by holly jackson. gets a lil steamy towards the middle but nothing comes of it. still not sure how i feel about this one, but i havent written for charles in forever and i got an idea i really liked but i don't know if it worked out when i put it on paper.

by the time y/n closed her laptop, she felt like her fingers were going to fall off. she leaned back in her desk chair, gutted to find that the monaco cityscape outside her living room window was now pitch black, as might had fallen on the city.

her first book had been a red-wine and oasis fuelled fever dream, the last three chapters being written to ‘don’t look back in anger’. and now, the final edits were done.

“I’m so proud of you, mon tresor.” charles gushed, bringing her another glass of wine.

“the last three years are finally paying off. a good girls guide to murder is done, and the world is ready to meet pippa and ravi.” she grinned, clinking her glass against her boyfriends.

she had poured three years of her life into that book, and Charles had been by her side for all of it. through numerous rejections, edits and late night idea-vomit, nobody was prouder than charles was so see it work out for her.

and now he knew she needed a break.

taking her hand in his, he gently dragged her out of the desk chair and towards the couch, placing their wineglasses on the coffee table as he urged y/n to sit on the ground between his legs.

his hands were warm as he began to massage her shoulders, attempting to release the tension caused by the last round of edits, which she had worked on almost from sunup to sundown.

“there’s still so much to do.” she whined, tilting her head back to look up at her lover. “now there’s arcs and extra promotions and finding advance reviewers and-“

charles cut her off with a kiss. “none of that right now. right now, you and me are going to finish this bottle of wine and watch something pointless on tv.”

smiling to herself, y/n got up from the floor and moved to the leather couch, slipping seamlessly into charles' lap and nestling against his chest. his body was warm, and his sweater soft. even if his cologne was a little bit too strong, he made her feel safe. treasured.

"that sounds perfect." she hummed, gently turning his face so she could kiss him. "thank you for supporting me."

"always, my love." charles smiled before kissing her again.

SIX MONTHS LATER

it was half past five in the morning when the phone rang. charles could sleep through just about anything, but it was the vibrations of the phone against her side table that woke y/n.

she looked over at her sleeping lover, pressing a gentle kiss to the smooth skin on his shoulder blades before slipping out of bed and creeping into the hallway to answer a call from her agent, cecelia.

"cece, its five in the morning. couldn't this have waited?"

ceclia cleared her throat. "i've just heard from the american office. the preliminary numbers for the new york times list are in."

"fuck. how did we do?" she closed her eyes, holding up her crossed fingers and praying to every god she wasn't sure she believed in.

and when cecelia spoke again, she almost dropped her phone.

"okay. thank you for letting me know, cece."

she slipped back into the bedroom, bare, dry feet sinking into the plush carpet at the end of the bed before she sat down at the end of the bed, gripping the phone so tightly that her knuckles had gone white.

"mon amour." charles rasped, exhaustion in his voice as he rolled over onto his back. "what's wrong?"

"i just got a call from cecelia." she started, trying not to let her emotions show through. "she's just been on the phone with our american agent with the new york times numbers."

charles sat up, one of his warm hands going to rest on her thigh. "and?' he asked hesitantly, his piercing eyes meeting her uncertain ones in the dark.

"i made the top ten." she shouted, grin spreading all across her features.

making the new york times list had made everything worth it. all the sleepless nights when she had woken up with an idea she was scared to lose, all the rewrites, the weeks of writers block. the rejections, the aggravation, the insecurity.

this was it.

she had done it.

"i'm so proud of you." charles beamed, folding her into a hug. "i knew you could do it, my brilliant girl."

she dropped her phone on the bed, red-faced and giggly as she kissed him, allowing her hands to wander across his toned chest. "wanna show me just how much?"

THREE YEARS LATER

the theater was almost silent when the lights came up, the end credits of the final episode fading out on the screen. she held her breath, fingers gripping charles' hand so tightly that she thought she might break the fragile bones in her husband's fingers.

oh, yeah. they had gotten married about a year after her book had come out, while she was in the middle of writing as good as dead, the conclusion to the series.

since a good girls guide to murder had come out, her life had changed for the better. she felt more secure in herself and her talent, and the words had never come easier when she started writing the sequel, eager ton continue the story. she had since written two more books to complete the trilogy, as well as two standalone novels: five survive and the reappearance of rachel price. around the time that rachel price was announced, she had gotten another call from cecelia, asking if she and charles could come to london and meet with representatives from the bbc.

they wanted to turn her first book into a tv series.

she had been hands on from the beginning, throwing herself into her work and doing her best to make sure that the version of the story the readers saw on screen was the version that she had visualized when she'd first explained the storyboard to charles, the driver helping her connect everything on their living room wall with red yarn.

and now was the time. the time to see if it had all paid off. the theater was filled with minor celebrities, influencers, and the tiktokers who had made her book blow up in popularity.

it all came down this night.

"it's okay. whatever happens, you know you did your best." charles whispered in her ear, running one hand up and down her bare back. underneath the flimsy straps of her red dress.

she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath when the roar off applause began to drown her.

she rode the rush of emotions, allowing the tears of gratification and relief to ruin her mascara as she let her body go slack, resting against charles as she watched the room rise in a standing ovation for pippa and ravi.

"we did it. we made it, charles." she laughed, tilting her head up to kiss him.

"no, cherie. you did this. they're all here for you."

she watched as the event's host, a former spice girl that charles knew through his paddock connections, stepped out into the middle of the small stage set up at the front of the theater.

"and now, the moment i'm sure you've all been waiting for, a few words from y/n /y/l/n-leclerc!"

she wiped her eyes and fixed her hair, taking a deep breath before she walked across the stage, taking the microphone from geri halliwell, and turning to face the crowd.

in the front row, there was charles. her one true love. her biggest supporter.

and in that moment, she truly allowed herself to believe that she had made it.

#charles leclerc x reader #formula one x reader #f1 iagine #f1 x reader #f1 one shot #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #Spotify

[devoutekuna]

Getting given a drawing from their child

Includes- Toji, Sukuna, Nanami, Gojo, Geto

Sukuna-

He receives mail from one of his servants, from the same address he was at, maybe it was a prank? But who would dare joke with him? Ripping the letter open, revealing a messy handwriting, instantly being recognised as his daughter's. Sighing as he hid his smile. 'To my favourite person!' He scoffed, surely he wasn't her favourite? It would be more plausible if it was directed towards you. Flipping the paper to see a drawing of them out on the field, her wearing a pink frilly dress which she loved because it matched his her hair colour, and him stood next to her, with a mischievous grin on his face, even getting all of his four arms and marks on them.

Nanami-

Nanami's daughter makes alot of these letters or drawings, to the point where he has a box dedicated to them. But it was an issue always finding them since she hid them in various locations, one of them being stuck to the back of his blazer, even stuck inside his pants, always having to inspect his clothes before he left for work since he was so paranoid.

Taking out his phone only to receive a piece of paper stuck on it. 'To daddy' he read out, ripping it off to reveal a picture of the blond and her. With a bunny next to them? She had been talking about wanting a pet bunny to keep her company but he always refused cause another member would stress him out even more.

Geto-

"Here you go daddy!" Handing him the paper, making sure if was faced down so he couldn't see the art she made. "Thank you baby" patting her head before she ran into the school building. Upon arriving at his cult's headquarters, he flipped the paper around, a perfect picture of him and his daughter sat on the balcony watching the stars, sure it wasn't the best of drawings but it was something. "Awh, that's cute" his personal servant said. "I know, my daughter drew it" noticing the stars spelling out the words 'I love you'

Gojo-

Gojo takes pride in his personal life, especially after marrying such a beautiful woman and having a son. See normally his son never gave him gifts but recently he gave him a letter that was decorated in blue stars. Ripping it open Infront of his students to see the picture of him and his son with ice-cream in their hands. He was about to cry from how thoughtful he was, much to his students annoyance. "See what my baby boy got me!" He wasn't even a baby anymore, he was a toddler, but in his eyes he'd forever be a baby.

Toji-

Toji cherishes anything you give him, especially the first gift you got him, he still carries the keychain around with him, it being the picture of you two on your first date. So when his daughter slips a letter into his worm, he finds it whilst sat down on the grass. The worm gaging up the letter, much to his disgust, picking it up, fortunately it was dry. Reading the note. 'Good luck daddy!' some of it spelt wrong but it was the thought that counts, a small drawing of you, him and her at the beach. Smirking as he saw how much she put effort into the letter. He most definitely has it framed and shows it her on her graduation.

#geto fluff #gojo fluff #sukuna fluff #nanami fluff #toji fluff #geto x reader #gojo x reader #sukuna x reader #toji x reader #nanami x reader #geto suguru #gojo satoru #nanami kento #toji fushiguro #sukuna ryomen #jjk drabbles #jjk x reader #jjk #𝙳𝚎𝚟𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚎𝙺𝚞𝚗𝚊

[epiphainie]

why do you think bucktommy has been "hitting differently"? i love them don't get me wrong, but i don't think it's been written much differently than buck's previous love interests (yet)

Hi anon, 

I don't think I agree with you there. Well, first of all I think talking about all of Buck's previous romantic relationships as one thing is doing injustice to those different arcs and Buck's character journey. All served different purposes, all were written differently from each other. When I make the distinction that BuckTommy has been "hitting differently" what I mean is that it has what worked in those previous relationships as well as what was lacking. And I think the reason is twofold: the writers being intentional with their choices and how it's all been executed. 

Intention:

Just to be clear, I don't mean anyone has had endgame BuckTommy intentions. Tim has been very clear about how he doesn't plan that far ahead and it's hard to talk endgames with a procedural format like this. But we know they wrote the bi Buck arc with more care, hence being more intentional with their choices than some of his previous relationships. We know that their first kiss had taken multiple shapes before it ended up being this gentle, surprising but still mutual kiss. We know that they wanted to create a story where Buck felt connected to this guy but also safe and light. We know that they wanted to make Tommy a character who can be understanding and lead Buck as he stumbles. We know that Tim thought Lou's buy was important because he didn't want to repeat the same mistake of creating a LI who didn't fit with the rest of the cast etc.

Now you can say some of these fit previous LIs one way or another but it brings me to execution:

Many people talked about this before me, obviously, but I think the execution of everything they planned with Tommy has been great. I mean before their first kiss, this guy goes out of his way and shows up at Buck's to "clean the air" with this virtual stranger because he believes he caused bad blood between him and his friend. Not just that, he reassures Buck about his place in his friend's life and apologizes for making him feel excluded. Now as the audience we know Buck is the kid who'd get hurt on purpose so his dad would pay him attention, he's the guy who sued the fire department because he felt pushed out and isolated, but Tommy doesn't. I think an LI addressing one of Buck's core insecurities in such a direct and reassuring manner before even knowing him is a great way to set up why Buck would feel safe with and understood by him.

Another is that Tommy immediately meets Buck at that vulnerable place when he admits to being jealous of the 118's bond and Buck reassures him back. This for example, is something Abby had done with Buck imo but Buck back then didn't know himself enough to embrace his own insecurities and at a maturity level to address Abby's despite his best intentions. With Taylor, their whole issue was that they couldn't be honest and vulnerable with each other. BuckTommy in this aspect feels different because from the get-go as they're being honest and are on the same frequency when it comes to this.

Episode five, we see them on their failing date, then we see Buck being nervous that he fucked it up in the coffee scene. We've seen this Buck before, when he got into that anxious mode to make sure Abby knew he wasn't cheating on her. Obviously, the context and the stage of the relationship are very different and they both reassure Buck about it not being his fault. Great on both Tommy and Abby.

But then, the immediate follow-up in Abby's case is that she's leaving for abroad. I don't think Abby is being evil or mean with this decision (where I have a problem with is when she starts ghosting him and doesn't just end it, but that's another topic) but again knowing what we know about Buck as the audience, we know this is a big deal. We know this - and later Ali leaving - adds on his issues of feeling like he's not worth it, we know it leads to him basically trapping Taylor because he's so afraid she'll leave. Again, Tommy doesn't. But Tommy gives him a second chance and then shows up at the wedding.

You can say showing up on one date is not proof that Tommy will always be there for Buck, but I think the execution is so good in painting Tommy as very reliable concerning this. Because Tommy doesn't just show up. If the writers' only concern was to write Tommy out of the A plot of episode 6, he could just come to the ceremony and be like "my shift just ended". No, Tommy says he'll try his damnest to make it to the wedding and then he enters the hospital all rushed, haphazard, covered in soot, hair a mess. The dramatique of that entrance immediately validates in the audiences' mind that yeah this is a guy who will do his damnest to be there for Buck. It, again, addresses a core insecurity of Buck's.

Back half of the season doesn't do anything different but we again see Tommy notice Buck's emotional state, meet him in that vulnerable place, and also match his flirty vibe. They're comfortable; it feels earned even in such a short span because of the well execution of their initial arc. This to me what Buck said about Natalia when they thought the show wasn't coming back (and before that relationship was recontextualized as being a dud), about how he feels seen and comfortable etc. Only this time, there's intention, effort, and execution.

One final note in execution - and this is very ymmv because I've seen even from some BuckTommys that they wished they did this differently - I genuinely love how little BuckTommy there is in 7x03. More specifically, I love that Tommy's reintroduction to the series is not through being Buck's potential love interest. He's there in that episode for Hen, Chim, and Bobby. In 10 mins screentime he's quickly established with motives and personality quirks, is involved in the main plot, bounces off of other characters. Again, great execution of a thing Tim intended to do: a love interest who can fill more roles than just the love interest. This basically makes him in his own category in how purposeful and functional he can be as a character in the greater narrative. So yeah I think both as a person in-story and a character, Tommy has been hitting different.

#very long answer lol couldnt stop yapping about tommy sorry my bad #mimi talks #bucktommy #911 #tevan #kinley #also ill get to all the other asks i promise

[lee-laurent]

Summer Boy - Quinn Hughes

Summary: When Jack brings his best friend to the family lake house for the summer, Quinn realizes the crush he's been harbouring for years may not be one-sided, the only issue his youngest brother is already making moves.

Content: slight angst, fluff, heated make-out

notes: let me know what you think!! this is my first fic on here and i def need to work on getting back into writing :D def not my best work, i don't love it but here we go. def can do a part 2 if anyone wants

Elwyn leaned her head against the cold window of the car, feeling the vibrations reverberate through her body. Jack had fallen asleep about half an hour into the drive, and Elwyn wasn't sure how to join Cole and Trevor's conversation without it being awkward. Quinn, Luke, and some of Luke's college friends were driving up in another car, leaving Elwyn alone and bored for the last few hours.

"You doing alright back there, Winnie?" Cole smiled, catching the brunette's attention from the back seat.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Jack's snoring is getting on my nerves though."

Cole chuckled, catching a glimpse of his friend in the rearview mirror.

"Well, you better wake him up; we'll be there in ten," Trevor laughed.

Elwyn nodded, pushing her best friend as hard as she could while restrained by her seatbelt.

"Ahhh! What the fuck, Winnie? I was sleeping"

Winnie just shrugged. Jack rolled his eyes in response, pouting at her.

"I was having a really nice dream."

"Yeah, what was it about?" she mused.

"Oh, it was amazing. Just me and the boys went on vacation, and I didn't have to bring my stupid best friend named Elwyn. It was pretty much paradise on earth."

Elwyn gasped, "You invited me, you cocksucker!"

"And I'll regret it every day for the rest of my life."

"If Jack didn't invite you, I'm sure Lule would have. He basically loves you," Cole laughed.

"That's not true. Luke doesn't love her, Q-" Trevor started, but was cut off by a slap to his chest from Cole.

Elwyn rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. Jack smirked at her in victory, before turning his attention to his phone. The rest of the drive was mostly silent. Jack on his phone, Trevor driving, Cole pointing out the occasional thing he saw, and Elwyn watching as they sped past the lake, the blue looking almost endless.

"Ellie!" Dylan shouted, throwing his arms around the girl. They rocked back and forth, bright smiles plastered on their faces.

"Why does Elwyn get a bigger hug than I did?" Luke questioned, "She doesn't own the house."

"I love Elwyn so much more than you," Dylan joked, narrowing his eyes at his past roommate.

El snatched her duffle bag out of Jack's hands, dissappearing into the house. Jack sighed, grabbing his bag and following her inside.

"You know I love you, Winnie?" he whispered.

"I know, Jack. I love you too," she giggled, flopping down onto the bed in the room that she had claimed, between Luke and Quinn's.

"I still don't get why you don't want to share a room with me. I'm like the best roommate ever."

"Jack."

"Yeah?"

"You snore and steal all the blankets. You're a terrible roommate."

Before Jack could protest, a snicker came from the doorway. Luke was standing there, his body leaned against the frame. Elwyn offered him a small wave, which he gladly returned.

"What's up?" Jack asked.

"Oh, um, Quinn needs help with something out back. Wanted me to ask you to help, Rowdy."

"Why can't El do it?" he groaned.

"Cause if El did it, Quinn would - never mind. Just go help him, dipshit."

"Fine. You coming, Winnie?" Jack sighed.

"I guess," she shrugged, letting him drag her into the backyard.

A few of the guys were playing spikeball, but Quinn was desperately trying to get the boat cover off. It seemed like it had been superglued on. He looked up when he heard two new voices enter the yard. His breath caught in his throat, and he stopped what he was doing when he saw Elwyn walking in step with Jack. He had specifically told Luke not to send her hout, why couldn't he follow simple instructions?!

"Hey, Quinn," Elwyn smiled, twisting one of the rings she had on.

"H-hey, Elwyn. How's it going?"

"Would be better if your brother wasn't so annoying?"

"Who? Luke?" Jack smiled, earning a punch in the arm.

Quinn chuckled nervously, turning his attention to his brother, "Can you hekpl me with this, Jack? I think Dad fucking superglued it on."

"Sure," Jack sighed, climbing up onto the boat with his brother.

Quinn tried his best to keep his attention on the boat, but that was proving difficult with Elwyn there. Quinn had had a crush on Elwyn for as long as he could remember. It was hard with her always being around because of Jack. And it was going to be even more difficult now that she was spending the next two weeks of summer with them.

"Quinn! Quintin! Hello?" Jack waved his hand in front of his brother's face.

"Huh?"

"You zoned out. Elwyn's going to help Luke with something inside."

"Oh, uh, okay."

"Are you okay, dude?"

"I'm fine, Jack. Just help me with the boat."

Jack raised his hands in defence as Quinn rolled his eyes.

Elwyn laughed as Luke splashed water from the sink at her. He had asked her to clean some of the dishes that the boys had used for lunch before she arrived with Cole, Trevor, and Jack.

"Stop!" she giggled, flicking some soap at him.

"Sorry, sorry. Didn't mean to get you all wet," he winked.

"LUKE!"

"Sorry, sounded funnier in my head," he rubbed the back of his neck, his face flushing.

"It was funny, Luke. No sweat."

Just as he was about to open his mouth and make things worse, Trevor walked in slapping him on the back.

"Mind if I steal, Lukey boy. We need another person to play pool."

"Sure. Leave the only woman to do the dishes," Elwyn shook her head.

"I- I can stay, Winnie. Mark or Ethan can play for me."

"It's fine, Rusty. I'm just kidding around."

Luke gave her a thumbs up, drying off his hands and disappearing with Trevor into the other room. Elwyn giggled at Luke's awkwardness, wondering where his sudden flirting had come from. She thought it was endearing almost. She was used to Jack's friends flirting with her, but his younger brother... that was new. It intrigued her, although Jack would shoot Luke on the spot if he overheard.

Elwyn sat cuddled up next to Jack in a deck chair, a blanket thrown over her legs that were propped on Jack's, one of his many Devils hoodies swallowing her frame. She choked on her beer as Trevor continued his story about striking out terribly at a club a few days before.

"What do you think, El? Who's got the best moves here?" Cole cackled.

"I- um, Quinn? Maybe? Like the quiet, mysterious type? Girls like that."

Quinn could feel his face heating up as the group of guys broke out in laughter.

"Quinn?! Are you kidding? Quinn's too busy thinking about-"

"Trevor! What were you saying about beer pong?" Cole cut him off.

"Oh, right! Me and Cole versus Elwyn and.... Luke!"

Don't be jealous. Don't be jealous, Quinn repeated in his head.

"Are you any good, Ellie?" Dylan asked.

"Oh, I mean, I'm okay... I guess."

"Don't be humble, Winnie! She's a pro! Whenever she comes to Jersey, we destroy everyone!" Jack claimed, smiling brightly.

"We'll see about that," Trevor smirked.

Elwyn sighed, getting up from her comfy spot next to Jack. Luke wrapped his arm around her shoulders, directing her towards the table the boys had set up not far from where the fire was. This way the group around the fire could still watch the game, while enjoying the warmth.

Trevor and Cole went first, both missing. Elwyn dipped the ball in a cup, before tossing it. Luke cheered as it landed in the cup, pulling her into a side-hug by her waist. Quinn gripped his drink a little tighter.

The game continued similarly, although Trevor and Cole sunk a few balls, leaving Elwyn feeling pretty tipsy. She sunk the last ball and Luke picked her up, spinning her around. She laughed, her anxiety from earlier being wiped away by the alcohol in her system. He placed her back down on the ground, staring into her eyes. She giggled, watching his eyes flicker to her lips. Jack, however, also noticed. He quickly walked over to the table, slapping Luke on the back, breaking him from his Elwyn induced stupor. Quinn was thanking whatever god was watching over him, because he felt like he was going to puke watching the moment between his youngest brother and the girl he was hopelessly in love with.

"Alright, I think it's time we head in," Jack said, a fake smile on his face.

"Why? We're having fun," Elwyn slurred, placing her hand on Luke's chest.

"Because... you've had too much to drink, Winnie."

"What? No, I have not. I'm fine, Jacky. You worry too much."

Jack could see Elwyn wasn't coming in without a fight, however he was starting to feel like if he left her out here any longer she'd be making out with Luke. He was not about to let that happen.

"Come on, El. If we go to bed now, we'll be able to wake up early and spend more time on the boat. And you can wear that swimsuit you were telling me about."

Her eyes lit up at the mention of the new bikini she had purchased for this trip. It was beyond cheeky and the cutest shade of red. Deep down she was hoping it would grab the attention of one of Luke's friends. Didn't matter which one, she just wanted to get laid. It had been a while and it was starting to get to her. She nodded in excitement, letting Jack intertwine their fingers and walk into the house.

As soon as she was gone, Luke's friends hopped out of their seats, hollering and playfully slapping the boy.

"Damn, Hughesy! Tryin' to make a move on Winnie in front of Jack! Ballsy as fuck!" Ethan laughed.

"I see you, Luke. Get the girl!"

"Okay, Rusty! I see you!"

Quinn had heard enough. Elwyn was not some object to win over. He stood up from his chair and stormed into the house. Passing Elwyn's room, he peered in to check on her, but she wasn't there. Confused, he peeked into Jack's room. On Jack's bed laid a very drunk Elwyn and a tipsy Jack. He was attempting to get her to change into some of his clothes, but she was already half asleep. Jack looked over at his door when he heard the floor creak, noticing his brother looking in, he got up and pushed the door shut in his face.

"Come on, El. You don't want to sleep in jean shorts. You'll wake up and complain. I know you."

El just whined and started pulling her shorts down her legs. While it wasn't the first time she'd undressed in front of her lifelong best friend, it still caught him off guard. He turned around and faced the wall, laughing when he felt the shorts hit him on the back.

"Happy?" she mumbled.

"Yes, now get under the covers. I'll join in a minute."

"Night, Jacky."

"Good night, Winnie."

Jack sighed, climbing in next to Elwyn. He knew she wouldn't remember anything when she woke up, but if Luke did he was ready to kick his ass. He could feel the anger bubbling in his chest, when suddenly a leg swung over his and a sigh came from next to him. He laughed, pulling Elwyn into his chest. He'd kill Luke later, right now he needed sleep.

Elwyn groaned, shoving her face further into Jack's neck. At least, she assumed it was Jack's neck. She didn't remember much of the night before after beer pong started. Slowly, she peeled open her eyes. Yep, it was Jack. Thank god. Jack muttered something, his grip on her waist tightening. There were no blankets on El, as she had predicted, Jack had stolen them all. Where were her shorts? Carefully, she moved Jack's arm off her, climbing out of the bed. She slid on her shorts and ran across the hall to her room.

God, she needed a shower.

Next thing Elwyn knew, she was out on the boat surrounded by boys. The boat was pretty full, so she found herself perched on Jack's lap, listening to the boys talk about hockey. She couldn't help but notice Luke's gaze that kept falling on her, she'd just flash him a tight-lipped smile every time their eyes met. The boat stopped and most of the boys jumped into the water, Elwyn however was going to use this time to tan. She slipped off her shorts and lay down on the bench of the boat, basking in the feeling of the sun on her skin.

Quinn, who was treading water next to Luke, was trying not to stare. It was proving difficult though, seeing the girl in her barely there bikni, reading a book. He felt like a hormonal teenager, especially when she started applying more sunscreen to her body. He could have sworn that his gulp was audible, as she trailed her hands over her chest and shoulders.

"Someone needs a cold shower," Ethan laughed, patting Luke on the back. Quinn's head whipped in the direction of his brother. Had Luke been staring too? Since when was Luke interested in Elwyn? Was his little brother his competition now?

"Winnie! Get in!" Jack complained from the water.

"No. I'm tanning."

"You've been tanning for an hour. Join us!"

She groaned, pulling her claw clip from her hair. She climbed up on the side of the boat, plugging her nose as she jumped.

"AH! IT'S SO COLD! Holy shit!" she shrieked as soon as she resurfaced. She swam over next to Quinn, placing a hand on his shoulder to stay afloat. Quinn thought his skin might have been on fire in that moment despite the cold water.

"Hey, Winnie," he whispered.

"Hi, Quinn," she smiled, "Your boat driving skills are quite impressive."

"Thanks. Was trying extra hard just for you."

She giggled, "Wow, I'm flattered."

"Yeah, precious cargo. Had to keep you safe." Where had this confidence come from? Maybe talking to Elwyn was easier than he thought.

"You're cute, Quinny," she smiled, swimming off towards Jack.

"Oh my god, she thinks I'm cute," he mumbled.

"Did you say something, Quinn?" Luke asked.

"Huh? No, no. Just thinking about tonight."

"Okay?"

Little did Quinn know that night was going to change everything.

Once again, everyone was gathered around the fire, cooking hotdogs over the flames. Elwyn was chattering away with Jack, explaining to him how to cook the hotdog correctly.

"No, it'll still be cold on the inside now. You have to give it more time. You're like a child, so fucking impatient."

"It won't be cold; I've been holding it over a fire."

"Are you kidding around? You're so dumb."

"Fine. I'll just burn it."

"Just because it's charred on the outside, doesn't mean it's burned. I actually cannot stand you. I'm going to sit with Quinn."

"Whatever. Have fun with that."

Quinn prayed that the darkness would shield Elwyn from seeing the blush that covered his face as she sat on the arm of his chair.

"Your brother was pissing me off."

"Not surprised. Not sure how you've put up with him for so many years."

"Me neither. You're clearly the better Hughes boy."

"Ha, yeah..."

A couple drinks later and Elwyn had moved from the arm of the chair to Quinn's lap. Jack hadn't noticed, too busy playing spikeball. Quinn's fingers drummed mindlessly against her exposed side, her head leaning on his shoulder.

"Quinn."

"Hm?"

"Have I ever told you that you're like the cutest guy ever?"

"What? No? Why?"

"Then I'll do it now. You're like the cutest guy ever."

"Where is this coming from, El?"

"My mind? My heart? I'm not sure. I thought you were cute when I was 16. But you were too cool for me."

"Too cool for you? No, you're too cool for me."

"Funny. I like your nose," she smiled, running her finger over the slope of it.

"Thanks. I like you."

"What?"

"I- I like your nose too."

"Thanks, Quinny."

"Do you want another drink?"

"Sure. I'll come with you."

The two walked off into the house unnoticed, going to find more alcohol. Elwyn perched herself on the counter as Quinn dug around in the fridge.

"Is Ultra okay?"

"Mmhm."

Quinn handed her the can and went to walk back outside, when her hand caught his collar. She pulled him closer, spreading her legs to slot him inbetween.

"Can I kiss you?" she whispered like someone would hear.

"I-" Quinn stopped himself, leaning in and capturing her lips with his. Her arms wrapped around his neck, trying to pull him impossibly closer. He swiped his tongue against her bottom lip, quickly being met with her open mouth. He slid his hand up her side, tucking it under the thin string of her bikini top.

"Upstairs," she mumbled against his lips. He nodded, allowing her to jump off the counter and drag him to his room. Their lips met again as she backed them towards the bed. He caught himself before he could crush her, trailing a hand up her thigh.

"Shirt."

"What?"

"Take your shirt off?" Elwyn offered. Quinn nodded enthusiastically, grabbing the back of his shirt and pulling it over his head. She wasted no time trailing her hands over his pecks, pulling him back in for a kiss. Quinn trailed his hand back under the string of her top, before she redirected it under the small bit of fabric covering her chest. Before Quinn could comment on how amazing she was, her name was called from downstairs.

"ELLIE? YOU IN HERE?" Jack's voice echoed from the bottom of the stairs.

"Ignore him. He'll go back outside," she whispered, kissing Quinn's neck.

"ELWYN? YOU OKAY?"

"Fuck. We should go, Winnie."

"But I'm having fun."

"I am too. But Jack will come up soon."

She sighed, sitting up. Quinn squeezed his hand under her shirt one more time, smirking as she narrowed her eyes at him.

"Don't start something you can't finish, Hughes."

He laughed as she sped off to go back to Jack. Maybe this summer would be better than he thought.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #jack hughes #luke hughes

[exhaslo]

Hi! Could I ask for a short request if you have the time? I'm just imagining reader in Corruption getting pregnant with twins and Miguel just goes crazy for it. She's too tired to do much - because she's quite small and fragile - but he just follows her around and is just always finding ways to touch her and kiss her and just admire her body because it's become so obediant to him that it's produced two babies in one go?! 😱

I just want to see Corruption Miguel absolutely whipped for his pregnant little wife 😍.

Omg Villain!Miguel will go nuts! Also, LOVING the love that Villain!Miguel is getting!!

Warning: None, just fluff, twisted thoughts, manipulation

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Yes! Yes! Yes!

The moment that Lyla, not you, announced that you were pregnant was the best day in Miguel's life.

Miguel was sure to always have your states on his watch, making sure that you were always healthy. Lyla was your nurse, to a point, always checking up on you and reporting to Miguel. Miguel was not going to lose this chance.

Miguel was always with you for every doctor visit. The mad scientist himself, needed to understand the process of child birth. Miguel made sure to get the best doctor in the city to watch and care for you.

When it was time for your ultrasound, Miguel was over the moon. His own eyes staring at the child in your belly. The child that he worked hard to create. The child that you were finally giving him.

"Oh, there is a second head. We have twins," The doctor hummed.

Miguel's eyes widen. Unable to control his excitement, he gave you a deep and passionate kiss. You were in a daze from the sudden kiss. Miguel withheld his laughter throughout the whole visit. By the time you got home, Miguel was all over you.

"Mhm~ Miggy~" You cooed. Miguel kept his hands against your waist, kissing your neck,

"My good girl. Such a obedient, perfect, girl. Giving me twins. I must reward you." Miguel hummed. You felt your face fluster as you couldn't help but smile,

"It's just our luck~"

"No. Your body was made for me. Wants to prove how much it loves me and my seed to give me twins,"

You whined, covering your face from embarrassment as Miguel kept showering you with kisses. This wasn't like him, but you were loving every second of it.

--------

Miguel was being so overprotected. He kept you at home, taking you out only when he cleared the city of every criminal. For once, Miguel was playing a hero, but only for you.

Miguel made sure that nothing came to your harm. Hell, he even killed and used those bodies as a warning to not ruin his day. You came first.

You always came first.

As the months flew by, your body was growing weak and tired. The pregnancy was draining you and constantly making you hungry.

Miguel was always prepared. He made sure that you always had everything you craved, gave you all the vitamins you needed, and even gave you massages.

His hands were always on you. Miguel wanted to make sure he could always feel you caring for his child. Whether it was giving you a foot massage or just touching your belly. Miguel was just excited to have twins.

You were giving him twins.

"Miguel...what about work?" You asked tiredly as you tried to get off the bed.

Miguel glanced up at you, carefully pulling you down. His head buried against your neck as he rubbed your belly. Soft kisses against your neck as he tried to feel the baby.

"You come first. The baby comes first," Miguel whispered, "Today is going to be about you."

"Awe, Miguel~" You cooed, "Can we...get breakfast first? I'm hungry,"

"Of course,"

Miguel was careful to help you up, staring at your large belly. His lips twitched into a smirk as he saw the babies kick. His hands roaming your stomach, wanting to feel. You were carrying the future of humanity.

"Hehe, who would have thought you'd be so loving~" You chuckled, putting your hands against his, "I'm a little jealous~"

"Don't be. Once our children are born, I'll be sure to give you more attention. How else are we to give them siblings?"

"Eep! Miguel!" You whined, covering your face against his chest.

Miguel rubbed your back, finding you adorable. You had already agreed to carry as many children as possible for Miguel. You had to be a good girl and give him everything he wanted. He had to wait so long for this...

And you were going to give it to him.

-------

When it was time for you to give birth, Miguel made arrangements to have the birth at his place. He hired the personal doctor and some nurses and got all of the equipment that they needed.

It was too risky to have you give birth at a hospital. Miguel didn't want to risk anything happening to his children or you. With all the enemies he had...Miguel made sure to keep you a secret.

"Ah!!" You cried out.

Holding your hand, Miguel watched as the doctors helped you. Your grip was tight, it almost hurt. If Miguel were a normal human then you might have broken his hand. Oh, how great it was to have you give birth to his babies.

His super human babies.

Listening to you crying as you pushed, Miguel tried to comfort you. After a few more pushes, you were a panting mess as the room was filled with crying.

"That's my girl," Miguel kissed your head, more focused on the twins.

The doctors and nurses cleaned the two babies before giving them to both you and Miguel. Miguel's eyes sparkled as he stared at the two crying children. You were laughing tiredly,

"Look, Miguel. Our babies~" You cheered. Miguel gave you an honest smile, placing the two children in a special crib,

"Yes. Our babies. Now rest."

Dismissing everyone, Miguel finished taking care of you. He cleaned the bed and everything and washed you. You were sleeping soundly beside the crib with your two children. Miguel stroked your hair, staring at the twins.

"This is only the beginning, (Y/N)."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hope you enjoyed!!!!

#spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #miguel x you #miguel x fem!reader

[atlasmoonglade]

Joost Klein x OC!single mom

Warnings: divorce mentioned, smut in later chapters.

Summary: this takes place pre Eurovision. Joost meets Ria, a single 32yo mom. Probably will be a slow burn. Multiple chapters.

This is just for fun, don't take too seriously.

the night we met it was supposed to rain. the night we met i was supposed to stay home.

Chapter 1

"Please!" my friend begged me.

"I already told you, I am not going out tonight. I have a horrible headache, plus look at the weather forecast." I complained while putting on the kettle.

"Oh c'mon, when has a little rain ever ruined our plans."

"A million times." I laughed. "Let's just stay in this time. This is the weekend when Elliot is staying with his dad. You'll meet with your mystery man tomorrow."

"Ok," Brianne, my dear friend who is head of over heals for a man she met online, sighed. "what I forgot to mention - he is in town only for a week and I can't meet him any other day. Please come with me. It's a bar, if it rains, it won't be an issue."

I am not a fan of spontaneous plans, I need everything planned and agreed 5 business days in advance. There is no place in my life for sudden changes, but I look at her realising I will have to brave my headache and hate of impulsiveness to go out. I love her to pieces and couldn't bear the thought of her going alone.

"He is bringing a friend, so it will be like a...double first-time-meeting-a-guy-you-met-on-instagram type of date. Please come." she is making puppy dog eyes at me. "We won't stay too late and you will still have plenty of time for yourself, I promise."

"Ok." I said. "How could I miss a double first-time-meeting-a-guy-you-met-on-instagram type of date. Maybe he will be cute."

He is not. I am in a bar listening to the most boring man on earth talk about finance and crypto, having to nod and smile because Brianne on the other hand is having a grand-ol time with her instagram guy. How do people even meet on social media, a mystery to me. Though they seem to be a match made in heaven, she is talking non stop and he actively listens with appropriate reactions right when she expects it.

"I will order myself another drink. Anyone want anything?" I stand up to head to the bar.

"Yes, another Martini." Brianne said with a wink.

"I still have my beer, thank you."

"Want me to come with you?" finance guy, whose name I didn't even bother to remember, asked.

"No, it's okay. I will be right back." I am happy to have a minute of silence.

I send a quick text to Nicholas, my ex-husband, asking how Elliot is doing. They are having a Cars movie marathon eating as many sweets as a 6 year old can muster, which is probably infinite. As I hit send, I walk straight into someone's back, which knocks the wind out of me.

"Woah. What happened" the guy, whose back apparently is like a brick wall, exclaims.

"Sorry, I wasn't looking." I say rubbing my forehead.

Mister broad shoulders turns to face me. "Are you okay?" he asks with an accent.

"Yes, sorry again. Didn't mean to crash into you like that" I look up to take a better look at him. A good looking blond man wearing tinted glasses inside. "Usually I don't head butt people at first sight." I drop my hand from the forehead.

He doesn't say anything, just smiles at me, I smile back. It seems so natural.

He turns to say something to his group of friends, who have been eyeing our collision, then turns back to me. "I was going for a smoke. Want to join me?" he points his head to the exit, reaching for his pocket.

"Uh, sure." I say.

He takes a lead, I follow. I send a quick text to Brianne: went for some fresh air. brb

Fresh air feels nice indeed, boring conversation with a crypto man long forgotten.

"What's your name?" my new acquaintance asks while he lights a cigarette and offers me one from the pack.

"Ria" I fold my arms over my chest to protect myself from the chilly evening wind. "I don't smoke."

"Ria" he repeats my name as if trying it out. "I'm Joost."

"Where are you from?" I ask while taking in this stranger who almost knocked me out. He is wearing a white t-shirt with a hoodie over it, loose denim pants which seem too long for him and those sunglasses.

"the Netherlands. I'm visiting a friend here." he says while blowing out the smoke facing away from me.

"Is it your first time here?" I keep the conversation.

"No, I come here from time to time. Have to culture myself." he smiles.

"Yes, a lot of culture in the US of A."

He laughs throwing his head back, which makes my heart flutter. What a strange turn of an evening.

He finishes his cigarette, stubs it out and we head back inside.

"It was nice to meet you, Joost." I smile at him.

"Likewise" he doesn't return to his friends yet as if he wants to say something more.

"I need to get back to my friend. Don't want to leave her alone for too long."

"Don't walk into someone else, that role is reserved for me." he jokes again and heads back to his group.

"Sorry, they ran out of Martinis" I say as I come back to Brianne and our companions.

I can't help but glance in the direction of Joost, right as I catch him looking too. He notices the seemingly double date that is happening. Am I imagining or does he look upset. I give a small smile, which he returns and goes back to his conversation. Am I imagining or do I want him to look back again. It is an unusual feeling for me to long for someone I barely met, will definitely have to unpack that later.

I also notice the absence of a headache, must have been the breath of fresh air.

I woke up the next day feeling not my best. Even a couple of drinks isn't an easy task after 30 - something I have yet to accept.

My phone buzzes. A text from Nicholas: Getting ready to go to Disneyland. Elliot wants to wish you good morning. ☺️

I text back Good morning! Have a fun day you two! ❤️ give him a hug from me.

I place an online order in my favorite coffee shop and decide to walk there instead of driving. I need to clear my head, yesterday's events still fresh on my mind.

As I walk I try to think of why Joost made such an impression on me. I was secretly craving his attention the rest of the night. Am I ready to be dating again? The idea of how complicated dating is while having a kid scares me, that is why I haven't pursued that idea in so long.

But the few times our eyes met from the different parts of the bar felt electric. I need to be careful.

I walk into the coffee shop, the usual place of orders already having a Coldbrew I ordered ready, I head straight to it. At the same time a hand reaches for it too, as we both grab the drink. I turn "I am pretty that is m-", and see non other than my blond friend from yesterday.

"Joost!" I exclaim.

"Ria?" he looks as confused as me.

"Now I should ask if you are following me." I say and notice we are both still holding the coffee.

"I start to believe you are the one following me and stealing my drink." he doesn't let go of it.

I check the name on the drink, it spells "Youst".

"They did spell my name wrong, but close enough." he laughs and at the same time barista announces a Coldbrew for Ria.

"Ok, so I loose, it was not mine." I take my order.

"Honestly it was a matter of seconds, I was about to give up mine." he says.

"Really? I was ready to fight, I really need it this morning." I say taking a sip, a moan slipping my lips.

"Wild night?" we head outside.

"No, I actually went to sleep rather early. Drinking at my age doesn't go down well."

"Went to sleep early? Wasn't a fun date?" he looks at me through his yellow tinted sunglasses.

"If you consider someone mansplain crypto to you for 3 hours to be fun, then yes, it was a thrilling experience." I look up at him. "My friend made me go."

"Oh." he seems relieved. "You were listening to him so intently, wouldn't have guessed it wasn't intentional."

"So you are following me. Thought I felt someone's stare burning into my head." I tease.

"Only a little." he smiles and takes another sip. "So, you said it's not easy at your age. Couldn't think you are older than 27, how old are you? If you don't mind me asking. Definitely not for my following purposes."

I laugh. It feels so easy to talk to him, but I have to rip off the bandate.

"I am 32 and I have to be honest with you. I am single but I have a kid."

This seems to have taken him aback. Which is often how it goes, I try not to seem hurt, already coming up with an excuse to leave.

"Can I get your instagram, Ria?" he asks.

My head snaps to look at him, this is the last thing I expected to hear.

"You are a funny guy, Joost."

He hands me his phone to type in my name in the search.

"I have to go now, but I do believe in fate. It is trying to tell us something making us meet again." he stretches out a hand for me to shake. I take it. Here is that feeling again.

As I walk back to my apartment, I get an instagram notification.

joostklein just started following you.

Chapter 2

#joost klein #my writing

[takes1]

p.2 one night stand aftermath with needy!tsukishima

this boy is gonna get whinyyyy in the next one. sorry i haven't been posting like everyday anymore, i'm either hitting a wall or i'm exiting my manic creative fever

warnings. sfw-ish, conversation/narration about sex. minors DNI

info. fem!reader / smut build-up / flirting / one night stand aftermath / needy!tsukki / timeskip!tsukki / museum setting / miscommunication / 1.6k words / reply to be added to taglist for part 3!

haikyuu collection. part one here.

more links. masterlist. my ao3.

"Are you sure they're not in your bag?"

You did not want to bother somebody at their job because of your nephew's inconvenient tendency to leave his eyeglasses around.

The six-year-old stopped and you watched him search through his little Indiana Jones-themed bag. No glasses. Just the sandwich you packed for him, a coloring book, and pencils to go with it.

"Shit," You sighed under your breath. You had already been in the museum for an hour and a half.

They could've been anywhere. You rubbed the back of your neck and looked at the reclined worker behind the service desk in the lobby.

"We'll... we'll ask if they've seen any, alright?"

"Okay!"

You approached, hoping the man would break the ice first when he noticed you.

All he did was keep tapping away on his phone.

If anything, he shrank lower in his seat when you came up to the counter so you couldn't see him as easily.

"Hi, um- Excuse me, we just wanted to know if you've seen any glasses around- Or if anyone had come by to turn some in."

It was difficult enough to muster the courage to speak. But to make matters worse, the worker peeked out from around his shoe with the rudest 'Go away, I'm busy doing nothing' stare that he could muster.

Pressured frustration built in your chest and you readied yourself to speak louder, be more assertive so he could understand this wasn't a problem that would just go away.

It fizzled at a flash of short, fluffy blond hair.

Your fingers twitched from the memory of how soft it was against your shoulder, between your legs, against your palms.

His eyes widened with recognition. He took his legs back down, a lanky hand setting his headphones to rest around his neck.

You realized you had forgotten his name, so you couldn't express that you knew him so easily-- it left you speechless, grabbing at something to say.

Thankfully, it was a problem for later, because he confirmed that he heard you after all.

"You wear... glasses?" He asked.

His face worked, soaking in every new detail of your natural features he didn't get to see the last time you were together.

"No, I don't," Was all you could say.

You motioned to the child hiding behind your back, clinging to your shirt.

A nearly open-mouthed look.

"Oh!" You covered a small laugh at his unnaturally wide-eyed stare, "He's not mine!"

You held your hand to your heart, then placed it atop your nephew's head and ruffled his hair.

"Just babysitting my nephew. He wouldn't stop asking me to come here,"

The kid leaned all his weight to the side and squinted around, using you as an anchor to hold him up. He couldn't be bothered listening to you.

"He loves the museum."

He spared a glance to the little one rubbing his eyes behind you and, to his own surprise, found sympathy in his heart.

It was a quiet and incredibly uncomfortable search. You remembered his name along the way, thankfully.

It didn't help that it was nearly empty besides your small group making a sloth's pace throughout the vast, never-ending halls. Frequent stops at places you lingered at earlier to read plaques or marvel at figures put some occasional ease on the tension.

Tsukishima walked slow, with his hands in his pockets, and looked at anything but you.

Simply by his wordless agreement to help you, you could tell this job wasn't something he took very seriously. If he didn't already know you inside and out, he would've turned his music up to drown out your plea for help.

His calculated, but somehow yet disinterested gaze stood as strong evidence that he wasn't warm.

You held yourself to silence a shiver.

So, why did he look so heartbroken when you left his bedroom?

A quiet, toneless voice wrenched you out of your inquisitive thoughts.

"You do this often?"

You didn't understand how comfortable you actually were with the quiet until you had to come up with something to respond with. What was he referring to? The museum, or the sex?

"Um-?"

His face was so intense when you tried to look at him for more elaboration. Like you had stepped on the back of his shoe.

You quickly looked down.

"With the kid," He muttered.

"Oh, yeah," You blew a breath of relief, "Yeah yeah, I see him every couple weeks. We usually come here."

He hummed.

It was getting quiet all over again. You felt an obligation to try, now.

"Do...you like working here?" You winced. A dumb question you already knew the answer to.

His response wasn't as cruel as you expected. He even pretended to consider it.

"It pays for my tuition."

A generous nugget of information- your nephew began searching on his own accord around this old, interactive archeological sand table and you lingered next to Tsukishima for a minute.

"Tohoku University?"*

He nodded at your question as you both sifted through the sand in front of you.

"Me, too," You smiled, "Kinesiology major."

There was a small laugh on his lips. He smoothed the display back out when it was obvious there were no glasses here and you continued on your way.

"What, are you some snooty med student?" You scoffed at his perceived pretentiousness.

It wasn't rare to come across people who discriminated based on major when you interacted with so many aspiring nurses and surgeons. You liked the student athletes at your university better.

"No," He shook his head, "I- Just- yeah. It's nothing."

You believed him, but he left you confused and hanging on by a thread by his odd mannerisms and avoidant speech. It was difficult to make any lasting judgement about him.

Regardless, he stuck around and, though not enthusiastically, helped you search for the next twenty minutes.

There was the chance he could've been doing it all to repeat that night. If he gave you any indication that he was interested in a round two, you were prepared to take him up on the offer. But you had a feeling he would've already tried to flirt, or talk more, or just flat out tell you instead of dancing around, exhausting your politeness if it was the case.

Another room, another few minutes spent searching.

When nothing came up again, you got his attention with a frown, "You don't have to keep helping. I know this is pretty dull."

His face grew a bit warm. You both looked away.

"I'm not just gonna leave," He managed to work around your invitation to go away and reference your night together.

At first, you trailed behind him on the way into the next hall, but shook your reaction off and caught up to his side.

"So, why did you?"

He cut the niceties and put it all on the table, but you weren't at all expecting it to be laced in guilt, or shame, on his end.

Maybe if he had a sweeter resting face, or didn't kiss you so fast, or wasn't so handsy in the Uber back to his place, or didn't fuck you on the floor because he couldn't wait to get to his room, or didn't talk to you like he owned you, or didn't tell you to scream his name-- maybe if he just had an ounce of patience at the start, you would've foreseen his cuddly side and stayed a bit longer.

Honesty was probably best.

"I just," There was difficulty in your voice, "I just didn't peg you as the type to want more than-,"

His eyes were narrow and focused, fixated on your glossy lips as you spoke. It forced you to end your sentence short.

A minute passed and you were back to the skeleton displays.

As you watched him across the room, leaned under a bench to help search despite it being well over his paycheck, your heart squeezed.

He was a pretty boy- and kind where it counted, as far as you could tell. The most obvious trait of his was how much he liked you, even at the very start.

The way his face worked when he looked at you; intensity in the form of longing you'd never been the subject of before.

You'd be lying if you said it didn't make you feel pretty special to make a guy like that crumble.

"Found them." He called.

You groaned out a yes, excited you didn't have to pay an arm and a leg for a replacement. You jogged over to watch him wipe off the lenses on his shirt and hand them to your nephew.

"Glasses are expensive," Tsukishima placed his hands on his hips, unaware of how intimidating he was to a small child, "You should keep better track of those."

The kid apologized at a barely-there whisper and quickly clung to you again, embarrassed.

After all the searching, you were both tired and relieved to be able to go back home. Part of you weighed your legs down to this spot, though.

"I- suppose I owe you an apology, too," You admitted.

The double meaning was not lost on him. His chest swelled with a tentative, slow breath and he bit the inside of his cheek.

"You don't have to do that."

You were almost certain he was about to invite you back to his place. Just when you thought you had him, he slips away.

It was risky, but as you watched your nephew sprint over to a display he didn't see earlier, you decided it was more appropriate to try again.

"I'd love to make it up to you," You placed your hands on the back of your hips and tried to emulate the same look you passed to him in the club. Through your lashes, real casual, but unwavering eye contact.

His jaw worked at your not-so-subtle request to be invited back. It gave way to a hand rifling through his short, bouncy curls and red-tinged ears.

He looked over his shoulder to check you weren't being listened to.

A familiar sound was his low, interested mutter, "Are you free tonight?"

taglist.

holy shit tsukki gets so much love on here. thanks for supporting and tuning in! part three will be hornier

@little-stitious-studios @sunshinesx-264

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reply to be added!

masterlist. requests closed.

*the uni mention: idk what the fuck i'm talking about lmao fan wiki failed me i tried to find out where he actually goes to college don't burn me at the stake

#takesone #haikyuu #haikyu x reader #haikyu fluff #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu tsukishima #haikyu tsukishima #tsukki #tsukki x reader #haikyuu tsukki #haikyuu angst #enemies to lovers #enemies with benefits #kei x reader #kei tsukishima #kei tsukishima x reader #x reader #reader insert #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq smut #hq angst #tsukishima x y/n #tsukishima x you #tsukishima x reader smut #hq fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x you #tsukishima x reader fluff