#this is the only one i ever managed to catch as a kid. so two things making me attached to suicune | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hairmetal666 · 4 months

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Eddie's a mechanic, has a shop in Indy. It's only got two bays, but he owns it, he saved up the money, it's his. He runs it with Wayne, is building up a customer base. He loves it.

Within the year, a bakery opens up next door, separated from Eddie's shop by a narrow alley. He has a perfect view into the bakery's kitchen from the shop's office, and almost immediately catches a glimpse of the drop-dead gorgeous guy behind the mixing bowl. He's got sun-golden skin, swoopy brown hair, wide puppy dog eyes, the poutiest mouth, and a face dotted with freckles. Eddie gapes at him for a solid two-minutes, salivating over the bunch and pull of his muscles as he kneads a ball of dough. A wet dream come true.

Eddie's always sneaking glances at the shop next door, can't seem to keep his gaze off the most beautiful man he's ever seen. Over the next few months, he becomes familiar with this herd of kids that hang around the bakery at all hours. There's one, curly-haired and mouthy, who often makes the baker frown with his hands on his hips, but as soon as the boy walks away, the baker smiles all wide and fond.

It's a silly crush, no big deal. He has a weakness for brown-eyed pretty boys, so what? It's not like he's going to do anything crazy, like make a move.

It's past midnight, a few months after the bakery opens, and Eddie's in his little office, doing the monthly accounting. He's exhausted, tired of calculators and numbers, when a flash of light catches at the corner of his eye. He blinks a few times, sure it's the exhaustion setting in, but it doesn't go away.

Instead, there's a light on over at the bakery. It's a kitchen light, and the baker is standing at the stainless steel counter, looking unlike Eddie's ever seen. His hair is a soft wave, swooping onto his forehead. He wears grey sweatpants and a yellow sweatshirt. Tonight, his movements are less precise and practiced; he's slow and contemplative as he gathers ingredients and mixing bowls.

It's been long enough Eddie should look away, but he forgets that it isn't a dream, that he's actually watching the baker roll up his sleeves as he whisks. It's inevitable that, eventually, the baker catches Eddie staring. He just smiles, though, and waves. Eddie manages to return the greeting before awareness smacks him in the face, and he flees the office and the building in acute embarrassment.

They share waves after that. Smiles. Laughter once when Eddie's reading over an invoice and walking, smacks face-first into the doorframe. Eye rolls after the baker gets into an impassioned argument with the curly-haired boy, one that involves a copious amount of thrown flour.

They exchange waves and smiles and goofy expressions, and it shouldn't escalate further, but one day Eddie steps into the shop's waiting room to find the curly-haired boy sitting behind the reception desk, flipping through Eddie's new dnd guide.

"What." Eddie says.

"You," says the boy. He's pointing and glaring and Eddie is a little scared.

"Me?"

"You like dnd?"

He hopes his sigh of relief isn't audible. "Best DM this town has ever seen." He postures and smirks.

"Doubt it," the boy says.

Eddie lets out an offended squeak, dramatically smashes his hand over his heart. "Insulted! Maligned! In my own place of business! Oh!" He falls into a dramatic swoon.

The boy snickers. "I'm Dustin," he says.

"Eddie." They shake hands and Eddie does not laugh at how overly serious this is all is. "Sir Dustin, what brings you to my fine establishment?"

Dustin shrugs. "Steve."

"Steve?"

Dustin rolls his eyes. "The bakery."

"Oh," Eddie says. Steve. The baker is Steve.

He's having a little trouble breathing, sure he's done something wrong, a distinct feeling of doom settling on his shoulders. "Why?"

"He won't stop talking about the mechanic next door but refuses to introduce himself. Plus, I saw your D20 tattoo the other day."

Eddie's barely hearing him, reeling over the knowledge that Steve talks about him to his gaggle of children. He barely hears the rest of the conversation, but the next day Dustin shows up with the rest of the kids, Lucas, Mike, Max, El, Erica, Will.

They're loud, chaotic, wild, and somehow--before they leave--they've coerced him into running a one-shot for them. They come by in twos and threes for the rest of the week, eating all the snacks in the waiting room mini-fridge and talking at him and Wayne as they work.

It's Friday, it's sweltering, he's closing the shop for the night with the top of his coveralls hanging off hips, his sweat soaked undershirt tossed behind a tool chest. He steps into the waiting area and nearly jumps out of his skin to find a man there, holding a plastic container.

Steve.

"H--hi," he stutters. And fuck, he's shirtless. He's standing in front of Steve for the first time and his nipples are out. This is it, the moment he finally dies of embarrassment.

Steve's eyes are locked on Eddie's torso for a few seconds too long, cheeks flushing. He blinks, finally looking at Eddie's face. "I'm Steve. From the--the bakery next door?" He points. "I--uh--I wanted to stop by and apologize?"

"What?" Eddie asks. There's too much happening for him to keep up.

"Um, the kids?"

And Eddie can't fathom why he needs to apologize, can only stare at Steve in confused disbelief.

"It's just. They can be kind of a handful. I used to babysit Mike and the whole group of them started following me around, and--Anyway, I think Dustin took it upon himself to try to introduce us. I've been wondering where they keep disappearing off to, and Max told me today that they're here with you, and I thought I probably owed you an apology. You're trying to work and I know they can be a bunch of shitheads, and oh my god, I'm rambling, I really am turning into Robin, Jesus Christ."

Eddie is fucked. Oh he's so fucked. He's charmed, endeared, can't stop smiling at Steve who is somehow even more beautiful up close.

"I forgive you," Eddie says. "They're nice kids."

Steve lets out a hard breath. "They are, huh?" He smiles. "Don't let them hear you say that. You'll never get a moment's peace. And they shouldn't have been over here bothering you, anyway."

"It wasn't a bother. Though, they did eat all my snacks and swindle me into running a one-shot for them. Still not sure how that happened."

Steve laughs and his eyes crinkle at the corner. So fucked. So fucked. "I should've known that you play that game of theirs."

"Aw, not a dnd fan, Stevie?"

Steve blushes. "It's--there's a lot of math."

Eddie laughs, already knows he's never getting over this one. "You bake professionally."

"It's different?" Steve laughs. "Fine, fine! You got me, it's not my thing."

"Bet I could change your mind," Eddie says. He doesn't mean to be flirting, can't stop himself.

"I bet you could," Steve agrees. He moves his hand, like maybe he's going to run it through his swoop of hair, then seems to remember he's holding baked goods. "Oh, uh, please take these cupcakes as my apology for accidentally saddling you with my group of semi-feral children."

"You're already forgiven, but I'll never say no to a cupcake."

"You should stop by the shop tomorrow, then" Steve says. "On the house."

"You've already given me these." He wiggles the cupcakes in Steve's pretty face.

"I only save the free samples for the hottest customers." Steve does run a hand through his hair now, and it's dorky as fuck, but Eddie still feels like he's died and this is heaven. "See you tomorrow?"

Eddie can only nod as Steve backs out of the office with a cheeky little wave.

He goes to the bakery the next day, sure he just let his crush get away from him and imagined the entire interaction with Steve. Except, when he walks in, Steve smiles all big and pretty in his little blue apron, invites Eddie back to the kitchen.

And if they share their first kiss against the stainless steel countertops, it's between them, Wayne, and all the kids who spy on them from the shop's office window.

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #mechanic eddie munson #baker steve harrington #ficlet #fluff #meet cute #mutual pining #matchmaker dustin henderson #longing glances #dustin is sick of hearing steve talk about the hot mechanic next door but never making a move #dustin makes it for him #the party are a bunch of well-meaning menances #for some reason insomnia is an intrinsic part of steve's character even in an au

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swiftlyinlove · 4 months

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Santa Doesn't Know You Like I Do

pairing: Spencer Reid x f!reader

summary: You and Spencer are best friends, but there's always been a little spark between you. When he cancels your plans for Christmas, you're determined to prove that you know him better than anyone else.

warnings: idiots in love, christmas fluff, a little angst if you squint??

word count: approximately 4.5k

a/n: Hi! It's been a long time since I wrote much of anything, but writing this for Christmas has been an absolute joy. I love Spencer so much, and this poor boy just suffers... I wanted to give him a happy ending for Christmas - or a happy beginning. I hope you like it.

The first thing you realized after the beep signaled the end of the phone call was how weird Spencer was acting lately.

To be fair, you two had an unconventional friendship. Due to the nature of his job, Spencer was often busy and therefore you couldn’t communicate as much as you'd like to, but you'd set up a base rule to make sure you never lost touch with one another: mandatory Friday night video call.

Every Friday, without fail, you would Facetime. Spencer wasn’t fond of technology, you were aware, but he’d gladly face his prejudice and lack of knowledge of anything digital if it meant talking to you. It didn't matter if he was home or if he was in another state for a case; come nine pm on a Friday, you two would be catching up about your lives.

That, of course, meant that you'd grasp at every opportunity you could to be with each other. He was in town for a case? You would meet up and have dinner if he had time; if he was doing something important and couldn’t finish it in time for dinner, he would drop by your place at the craziest hour in the morning and lie down next to you, gently shaking you awake to reveal he had gotten take out from your favorite restaurant.

Despite being awakened from your slumber, you would greet him with the brightest smile he’s ever seen - well, after letting out a little shriek of surprise, to which Spencer would respond with an “It’s me, little menace” and a chuckle that would make your heart flutter every time.

The nickname had originated from your childhood. Spencer didn’t have many friends in middle school, and the fact that he was much smarter than kids his age didn’t help. His classmates either made fun of him or avoided him altogether, but you were… different.

When you first moved into town, you were very nervous for your first day of school. Making friends was never easy for you, as your peers would deem you rather weird for always having your nose stuck in books. However, you quickly realized you had nothing to worry about - it took one look at little Spencer Reid, reading Crime and Punishment at the lunch table, for you to know you had found your place.

You sat next to him, ignoring the snickers from the so-called “popular kids”. He hesitantly lifted his gaze from the wrinkled pages - you reckoned he had probably read that book many times before -, expecting to see someone with a mean scowl ready to taunt him.

Instead, his wide eyes were met with your bright smile, your rosy cheeks, and your adorable ponytails, and he frowned in confusion. “Hello…?”

“Hi. I’m Y/N.” You greeted him excitedly. There was something about him that made you feel confident, so you continued. “I’m new here and I noticed you were sitting alone. And that seems like a really cool book if you don’t mind me saying, and I just thought you-”

You cut yourself off, realizing you were rambling. You could feel your cheeks warming up, and you were sure you looked as flustered as you were feeling. Before you could even dwell on how embarrassed you felt, Spencer’s lips broke into a smile.

And that was it. From that moment on, you had been inseparable. Well, perhaps not physically; after all, he was academically way ahead of you and everyone else, and he even managed to graduate from high school at only twelve years old.

That didn’t stop you from hanging out every moment you could, nor from exchanging letters every single day when he went to college. To this day, you still had those letters, safely tucked into a charming wooden box you kept on your bookshelf, but you’d never tell him that (although you were sure he knew, as the great profiler he was).

So, despite being separated due to your busy jobs - his more than yours - and living in different states, it wasn’t a surprise when you started arranging to spend the holidays together.

Since his mother was still institutionalized, Spencer didn't really have anyone to celebrate the holidays with and therefore didn't care much for the traditions. You, on the other hand, loved the holidays, but since your parents had passed away when you were in college, you were also alone during the season.

Thus, you cut a deal. Every year, he would use his extra vacation days to take a week off around Christmas and you would take turns visiting each other. Usually, you were both very excited about this occasion – it was one of the rare opportunities you had to be together in person, and you missed each other terribly.

This year, though... You had just called Spencer to confirm the date so you could book your flight to Quantico, and he had simply managed to say he couldn’t take time off before hanging up on you.

You were confused by this but chalked it up to it being one of those days for him. Working at the BAU, Spencer had to deal with a lot of gruesome cases often and, after a really bad one, he didn't find any energy to do much of anything.

While he'd never avoided you per se, when those days coincided with your phone calls, you would try to comfort him the best you could, and sometimes even managed to cheer him up a little.

This time, you didn't even have the chance to, and that threw you off. Still, if Spencer was in a bad mood, maybe he just didn't feel like talking. Not even to you.

Deciding to not push it any further, it's only a few days later that you brought up your trip to Quantico, this time via text. You spent the entire day nearly jumping at your phone each time it vibrated, expecting a notification with his name on it.

It was only later that night that you'd get your answer in the form of an ‘I can't this year’. You read the text over and over again, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. Perhaps it had been wishful thinking, but you had hoped that, once he was in a better mood, he would be just as eager as you for your shared holiday season.

It occurred to you that perhaps something happened, perhaps he couldn't file for a vacation because he had a big case that he couldn't step away from.

But if that were the case, he would've told you so. He would've explained, apologized even, and tried to schedule another date for your trip to make it up to you. So, you concluded, he just didn't want to see you.

That thought haunted you for the entire week.

Finally having enough of feeling blue and not getting any work done, you decided to go straight to the source in search of answers. Well, source adjacent - Spencer was still replying rather coldly to your texts, so you couldn’t ask him directly. Penelope Garcia was the next best thing.

You had met the members of the BAU after a particularly successful case in your city. Their flight would only leave in the morning and Spencer thought he could take the opportunity to take you to the cinema for a late-night movie, just like the good old days of your adolescence.

However, Penelope and Rossi had other plans. To properly celebrate their hard work that led to saving multiple women who had been kidnapped a few weeks prior, they decided to take the team out for dinner in a nice restaurant.

“And it’s mandatory. It’s not like we have anything else to do tonight, so no excuses.” She had warned in a playfully threatening tone.

Spencer shifted in his spot while putting away his things in his satchel. After all the years he worked at the BAU, he still hadn’t told his coworkers - his found family, really - about you. It was the one thing he kept close to his chest, the one secret he wanted to keep forever.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he brushed his hair behind his ears, not daring to turn and face the team while he spoke. “I sort of already have plans.”

His voice was so quiet that the team wasn’t sure they had heard him correctly. After a moment of silence, Derek’s lips curled into his (in)famous smirk and he gently nudged Spencer’s side, making the lanky boy turn around to face his friends.

Spencer’s cheeks were flushed and he kept his eyes trained on the ground, not wanting to face the curious expressions on their faces. But when Derek nudged him again, asking him “Who’s the girl?” with such a teasing tone, he couldn’t help but look up.

“She’s just a friend.” He blurted out, eyes immediately widening upon the realization of what he admitted.

While the rest of the team just shrugged it off and dived into their conversations, Derek patted him on the back - the force of which sent Spencer stumbling a few feet forward -, and Penelope lit up like he had just told her that he won the lottery.

“You have to bring her!” Penelope begged, grabbing his arm as they walked towards the door of the local precinct they had been working on for the case. “I want to meet this mystery woman.”

Penelope didn’t say it to him then, but she was sure you weren’t ‘just a friend’. She might’ve not been a profiler, but the look in his eyes when he spoke about you and his hesitation to cancel your plans for the sake of the team made her think that perhaps you were much more special to him than he realized.

Her suspicions were, of course, confirmed when he showed up at the restaurant a few hours later with you in his arms, wearing an elegant black dress and a radiant smile on your face as you whispered something to him, immediately breaking into a fit of giggles.

Spencer tried to feign indignation at your comment, but he couldn’t help but smile as he led you to his friends, who were all watching the interaction with surprise and disbelief. Your laughter calmed when you reached the table, but the smile never fell from your face as Spencer introduced you, looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky. That’s when Penelope knew.

You clicked rather well with his friends. They were, naturally, very curious about you, and you did your best to answer all their questions. Meanwhile, Spencer, who was sitting next to you, placed a hand on your lower back, making sure you didn’t feel overwhelmed under the attentive eyes of his friends.

Penelope and you were a match made in heaven, Spencer reckoned. You quipped back and forth the entire night, even swapping numbers by the end of it, and Spencer even joked that you had found a new favorite FBI agent as you made your way to his car.

Chuckling at his statement, you stopped in your tracks, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning up to place a tender kiss on his cheek. “You’ll always be my favorite. But she’s a close second.”

Spencer was sure his heart had stopped right then and there and that he had gone to heaven.

Since that night, you frequently called Penelope to talk about numerous things - from the latest TV shows you were both hooked on to recipes for dessert -, but you rarely talked about Spencer. Until today.

“Penny, I need your help.” You blurted out as soon as the blonde answered your call.

“Woah, woah, calm down my friend,” Penelope answered, amused and slightly worried about the urgency in your tone. “What’s on your pretty little mind?”

All it took for Penelope to know something was wrong was two words. “It’s Spencer.”

“What about boy wonder?” The technical analyst questioned, trying to make sense of what you were saying.

“He’s been acting so cold lately.” You explained, sighing in exhaustion as you plopped down on your couch. “Well, you know how we always arrange to spend the holidays together?”

Penelope hummed in agreement - every year when Spencer would put in a request to take time off during the holidays, she would make sure it was at the top of Strauss’ paperwork, knowing he was doing it for you.

At her approval, you continued. “This year I was supposed to come to Quantico, but every time I try to bring it up, he shuts me down and just says that he can’t. I don’t understand why he’s acting like this and it's been driving me nuts all week.”

The blonde’s eyebrows furrowed as she looked at your image on the phone.

“Are we sure we’re talking about the same person? Because he seemed pretty excited last week. He wouldn’t shut up about how he found the perfect gift for you and how he couldn’t wait to see your face when you opened it.”

This confused you even more, and you frowned as you processed her words. “Yeah, well, this week he can barely text me back. I don’t want anything crazy, Penny, I just want to be with him for Christmas.”

“I don’t know what happened. As far as I can tell, he did put in the request for a vacation.” Penelope replied. Then, her face lit up in realization and she cursed under her breath. “Morgan.”

“Morgan? What does Derek have to do with this?” You asked, more disoriented than ever.

“Wait here,” Penelope said, quickly getting up from her chair and leaving you to stare at her empty office. She returns a few minutes later, looking pretty annoyed, to see you making a cup of coffee in your kitchen.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, sweet cheeks.” The blonde said apologetically, making your gaze return to your phone, forgotten on the counter as you waited for her.

You quickly picked it up, registering her distressed expression. “What happened?”

“I found out why Reid’s acting like an ass to you.” She replied, her voice softening as she saw the glimmer of worry in your eyes. “It seems like Morgan has done quite a number on him.”

“What do you mean Morgan has done a number on him? What did he do?” You questioned, growing irritated by Penelope’s ability to beat around the bush. You loved her, you really did, but you just wanted to know what happened.

“I’m not sure I should be telling you this, but since you’re so upset…” Penelope trailed off, pursing her lips. “Morgan better pay me back.”

“Penelope, just spit it out.” You interrupted, your impatience reflected in your tone.

“Fine. I told you Reid wouldn’t shut up about you, and Morgan may or may not have teased him about his feelings for you and it may or may not have caused Spencer to clam up in his shell.” Penelope rushed through her words and you blinked, unsure you had heard her correctly.

You could feel your heart beating in your ears as you asked her, “Spencer… Has feelings for me?”

Penelope looked reluctant to answer your questions, clearly not wanting to violate Spencer’s privacy. Ever since she met you, she knew you and the resident FBI genius were destined for each other, but she wanted you to discover on your terms.

“Penny, please.” You sounded out of breath, and it cleared any sign of hesitation on Penelope’s mind.

“Baby girl, I can’t be the one to tell you that. You have to ask him.” She responded, her voice full of empathy. “But between me and you, I’m pretty sure you know what the answer is.”

Spencer was certain that he was in the 9th circle of hell.

Ever since Morgan’s comment, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He always knew what you two had was special. You knew how to make him laugh; Spencer didn’t consider himself to be difficult to entertain, but he could be quite oblivious to his coworkers' jokes sometimes, especially if they were about him. But you? Oh, you managed to make him laugh hysterically with a simple comment, and it endeared him.

You had been with him through the good and the bad, after all. You were there at his graduation, celebrating his first Ph.D. - and the two that came after that, too - and you were right there by his side when he watched his mother be dragged away to a mental institution, holding his hand in an attempt to comfort him.

That was what he loved most about you. He could always count on you to be there for him. He recalled the first moment he realized you were much more than a friend to him.

It had been after the Tobias Hankel case. Spencer slipped in and out of consciousness as the doctors dragged him through the hospital, murmuring to themselves about testing the drugs in his system and checking his vitals.

His life wasn’t in danger anymore, but he was oh so tired. He had spent days upon days of captivity without a wink of sleep, locked in an empty cabin where he was tortured by two of Tobias’ personalities, and all he could think about between getting tormented and getting drugged was you.

He was sure he was going to die then, and his main concern was that he wouldn’t be able to see your pretty smile again. He would tell you this when you appeared at his bedside a few hours later, claiming that you received a call from the hospital - unsurprisingly, you were each other’s emergency contacts - and had threatened a stewardess to get a ticket to the next plane to Virginia, and you would call him ridiculous for it.

It was only when you were sitting next to him on his hospital bed, his head leaning against your chest as you combed your hands through his hair, that he allowed himself to cry, to reveal how truly scared he had been under Tobias’ hands.

You whispered sweet nothings in his ear as you softly lifted his head, making sure he was looking at you when you softly kissed his tears away. His arms had tightened around you, a silent sign of his gratitude, and he knew then, he knew, you were everything to him.

How could he have not fallen for you after all that?

But he could never tell you. He had been rejected many times in his life, but if he was to get rejected by you? He was sure his heart wouldn’t be able to take it.

So he tried to bury his feelings deep inside him, keeping you a secret from the people who knew him best and, when the time came, introduced you to them. As a friend. Because that’s all that you were. Friends.

When Morgan teased him about his feelings for you, Spencer entered panic mode. If Morgan could see Spencer was madly in love with you, then you could see it too - you could always read him like a book, after all.

And if you hadn’t brought it up… You didn’t want to. He knew you’d never want to hurt him, so the only logical conclusion he could reach was: you don’t feel the same.

He tried his best to avoid you. Cutting you off whenever you brought up your plans for the holidays, replying to your texts with short answers, and even refraining from watching Doctor Who in his free time, because it only reminded him of how you two used to lie on your couch during summer break and watch it together.

What he didn’t count on was opening his door in mid-afternoon on Christmas Eve and seeing you standing in front of him, coat covered in the snow that was falling outside the comfort of his building and a small smile on your face.

“Merry Christmas, Spencer.” You said bashfully, not sure how he would react to your presence.

“Merry Christmas.” He replied, his breath knocked out of his lungs at how beautiful you looked standing there. He might have fallen in love with you all over again.

After a beat of silence, he wet his lips, looking at you with the same wide-eyed gaze he greeted you with when you were kids. “What... What are you doing here?”

Your lips curled into a sheepish smile. “What, you thought I was gonna miss Christmas?”

Seeing you in front of him, hearing your voice without the faint static of the phone for the first time in a while… it was surreal to him. He couldn’t help but cave in and wrap his arms around you, pulling you closer into a tight hug.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders just as tightly, your body finally relaxing against his. You could feel his nose nuzzled into your neck, and you smiled against his shoulder.

“I missed you.” You whispered, letting your words linger between the two of you.

“I missed you too.” He whispered back, and you knew he was sincere. “I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you.”

“I know.” You breathed in his scent, pressing a soft kiss against his shoulder before pulling away. He reluctantly let you go, a remorseful smile on his lips.

Spencer guided you into his apartment, and you took note of how he put up your usual Christmas decorations. “You managed to set up the tree by yourself?” You teased him.

He chuckled, watching as you settled on his couch and patted the space next to you. He promptly followed your lead, sitting down beside you. “Yeah, it was a real challenge.”

Before you could even reply, Spencer reached out to grab your hand, his thumb softly caressing your knuckles to calm his racing mind.

“Look, I’m so sorry. I’ve been stuck in my head lately, and it’s not fair that I treated you like that. We’ve had this tradition forever and I feel like I disrespected it and-” Spencer rambled, and you pressed your lips against his to shut him up.

Your sudden action stunned him, and he couldn’t help but succumb to your spell. Placing his hands on both sides of your face and closing his eyes, he kissed you back as gently and tenderly as he could, feeling you melt against him.

Once you pulled away, his eyes fluttered open, looking at you with a lovestruck, surprised gaze. He seemed to be speechless, which made you giggle.

“I hope that was on your wishlist this Christmas.” You joked, leaning your forehead against his.

Your gaze softened as you took in his expression. “Penny told me everything. In all seriousness, I understand why you did it. I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t just tell me.”

He gulped, feeling vulnerable under your loving stare. He always got the impression that you could see right through him.

“I know. It’s just… I’ve been in love with you almost my entire life, and when I finally realized it, I was afraid that if I acted on them, you wouldn’t want anything to do with me.” He murmured, his tone growing sadder.

“And when Morgan joked about my feelings for you, I just realized that maybe I hadn’t been as discreet as I thought and perhaps you already knew and didn’t talk about it so you wouldn’t hurt me.” He continued, closing his eyes again as if the mere thought was too painful to bear.

He took a deep breath, his thumbs starting to slowly brush against your cheekbones. “I didn’t want to face you and find out if it was true, because… Because my heart couldn’t take it.”

You listened quietly to his words, his touch on your skin grounding you and sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach. It broke your heart to hear him speak like that, as if the mere thought of you feeling the same never crossed his mind, as if it was absurd.

You knew he had low self-esteem, a permanent scar from all the times he was bullied throughout his life, but his self-deprecating view never ceased to shock you.

“Spencer…” You whispered his name like it was sacred, like he was something to be worshipped, and it made his heart skip a beat. “I know all your favorite songs, how you take your coffee, and your favorite books. In order. I know you. I’d be crazy not to love you.”

You could feel him exhale in relief at your quiet confession, his racing mind finding solace in your words. “Really?”

“Of course.” You replied with a chuckle, leaning forward to press a feather-light peck against his lips. “I’ve been in love with you since we were, like, sixteen. All I ever wanted was to be the one to give you everything you want.”

He smiled as you pulled away once again, thinking about how much time you two had lost while dancing around your feelings. Although, he supposed, it wasn’t lost time - you had spent those years giving each other love, even if it wasn’t necessarily romantic.

“We’re both idiots.” He replied, making you laugh once more. You stood up, grabbing both of his hands and guiding him to the kitchen. He followed you with a bright smile on his face; he would follow you anywhere, he suspected.

“I was thinking I could make those cookies you like and, afterward, we could perhaps… snuggle by the fireplace?” You suggested, giving him your best puppy dog eyes.

He pretended to think for a moment, before he finally gave in, pressing a delicate kiss against your temple. “Anything you want, little menace.”

Spencer hummed, burying his face further into his neck. “I was thinking of reading a few books. Santa was going to keep me company.”

Later that night, when you were both snuggled up against each other in front of his fireplace while eating the gingerbread cookies you both made, you asked him curiously, “What were you planning to do for Christmas, if I hadn’t shown up?”

You laughed quietly at his admission. “Well, Santa doesn’t know you like I do.”

“No, he doesn’t.” Your genius agreed, peppering little kisses onto your skin. “You’re the best Christmas present ever, do you know that?”

“Yeah? Wait until you see what I actually bought for you.” You replied, a playful smile on your face. “Besides, a little birdie told me you got me the perfect Christmas gift.”

“I’m gonna kill Penelope.” He muttered under his breath, sending you into a fit of laughter.

Well, maybe this Christmas time

You'll finally realize

That I could be the one

To give you everything you want

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #penelope garcia #derek morgan #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid cm #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid one shot #fluff #best friends to lovers #criminal minds oneshot #Spotify

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angeldreamsoffanfic · 1 year

Text

“What’s the deal with you and Harrington?”

Robin Buckley glanced up toward the question asker, her brows slightly furrowed as she cast an inquisitive look toward Eddie Munson. He’s leant up on one of his elbows, chin cradled in the palm of his hand. His eyes are on her, large and curious, instead of the usual half-lidded expression he wears during the “adult” hangouts.

They’d all started hanging out ever since Vecna was destroyed, taking time away from the younger members of The Party to spend time all together. Herself, Eddie, Steve, Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle. Sometimes, every once in a while, it led them all to feel normal. As if they hadn’t all been dealing with more Upside Down crap just a few months prior.

“What do you mean?” Robin instead asked, her eyes moving from Eddie’s to dart out toward the Harrington’s pool. Steve is sitting on the edge of it with Jonathan, the two boys heads bent together as Argyle watched on- a dopey almost lovesick expression curled on his mouth. A spliff dangled from Jonathan’s fingertips, rolled by Eddie but the weed supplied by Jonathan.

“You’re… not together.” Eddie’s voice is soft, and barely spoken above a murmur. Robin nodded slowly, and turned her head towards him to try and indicate him to continue. “Nancy and the kids all repeat platonic with a capital P, but I just… how did you and Harrington even happen?”

“Scoops A’hoy,” Robin grinned wide, barely able to stifle the laugh that’s on the backend of her words. She was able to catch the widened look that Eddie threw her way, before his eyes darted out to look towards Steve, before his eyes moved back to her own. “He and I worked there back when the mall was open.”

“And… what? You instantly became best friends?”

“No, actually.” Robin shook her head with another soft laugh, before she paused so she could rub her palms together. She allowed herself to twist one of her rings around her finger, brows pinched for a moment. “I actually thought he was like the worst, y’know?” Robin scoffed to herself, before she sent Eddie a look. She knew what she must look like, her eyes wet with tears and her gaze all permanently soft.

“You know how he was in school, King Steve and all that.” Robin continued on, and she flicked her tongue out of her mouth to wet the corner of her lips for a second. “And when my manager told me that I’d be working with a Steve, well… there was only one Steve in Hawkins I could think of.”

“So how did your opinion of him change then, Buckley?” Eddie cocked his head again, one of his hands coming up to twirl a strand of hair around his pointer finger. His brows were furrowed taut, creating a worry line in between them. “The kids told me about the Russians-”

“It was sort of before then,” Robin admitted with a small shrug, and she twisted the corner of her lip into a shy smile. “He raved to me, y’know? About uh, these kids. These five kids he’d babysit and shit, and it was so… soft?” Robin watched as Eddie mouthed out names to himself as he ticked his fingers, before he cast a look to her. “But he always talked about this one, Ellie, who he’d call his little sister.”

Eddie drew in a sharp breath, eyes wide as Robin let out a soft hum.

“Yeah, and I don’t know if you submitted yourself to Harrington family lore-” Robin gestured behind her toward the Harrington house with a flick of her hand, before she continued. “But I knew that Dick and Helen Harrington didn’t have more than one kid.”

“Supergirl?” Eddie asked softly, and Robin let out a soft confirming hum as she watched Eddie’s eyes dart toward Steve. Steve was still talking to Jonathan, though Argyle had shifted forward so he was able to join in the conversation.

“And then imagine my surprise when one day our stupid sailor ice cream shop is visited by none other than the Chief.” Robin shook her head with a small laugh, before she continued on. “And he was so excited to see Steve, Eddie. Like genuinely excited to see him, ordered a couple tubs of ice cream togo and then said he’d see him at home.”

“Fuck.” Eddie breathed out, and Robin let out another sigh of a laugh.

“And I asked Steve why the Chief of the Hawkins police force was visiting him at work, and Steve just…” Robin shrugged slowly, shaking her head to clear her thoughts before she continued. “He just gave me this look, like… like he didn’t actually know either.”

“Then later, he told me why he watched all of the kids. He told me that he would’ve given anything for someone to just… to just care about him when he was their age. That all he wanted was for just a person to give a shit about his wellbeing.” Robin shook her head again, before she carded a hand through her still chlorine sticky hair. “And after that my opinion just… it just changed about him.”

“Then the Russians?” Eddie asked softly, and Robin hummed as she dipped her chin in a curt nod.

“Then the Russians, and he didn’t… he didn’t even hesitate to take the attention onto himself when they started questioning us.” Robin shook her head again, sniffling. “And after I asked him why he would do that, and he told me it was because he knew I had a family waiting on me to come back home.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, and then afterwards when we were getting seen by the EMTs? He didn’t have anyone to call Eddie. Because Hopper? Hopper was just… just presumed dead.” Robin let out a soft bitter laugh, and she twisted a strand of her hair around her finger. “My parents decided to take us both home after, and he stayed with us for a couple of days- until his concussion was okay enough for him to sleep through the night.”

“And that’s when you became best friends?”

“That’s when I decided that, Steve? He deserved way more from people than he seemed to ever fucking get.” Robin shrugged, before she cast a soft smile toward Eddie. Eddie’s eyes were glassy, wet with tears and Robin just patted her hand soft against his forearm. “That’s when I decided that he was my best friend.”

“Platonic with a capital P?”

Robin cast a look toward Steve, where the older teen already had his eyes on her. He had a hand extended, fingers wiggling toward her in a small way to beckon her toward his side. Robin stood without responding to Eddie, and she left her towel on the lounge chair she’d commandeered as her own. She took a moment though, cast a softer look toward Eddie- even as the corner of her lip twitched into a nervous smile.

“He’s not exactly my type, y’know?” Robin kept her admission soft, even when Eddie’s eyes were quick to flood with confusion. She instead cast a look toward the sunbathing Nancy Wheeler, who had one of her arms strewn over her face across the backyard where she laid in the grass.

When Robin let her eyes move to meet Eddie’s again, he has a look of pure understanding on his face.

“I think I get what you mean.” Eddie murmured and Robin simply flashed Eddie Munson a shy smile.

Eddie Munson watched as Robin Buckley walked away from him, quick to tuck herself into Steve’s side once she reached him. Steve threw his arm around Robin’s shoulders, tucking her further into his grasp- though the flow of conversation that he was having with Argyle and Jonathan didn’t even pause.

It’s in that moment when Eddie Munson realizes something extraordinarily fucking crucial.

He’s in love with Steve fucking Harrington.

---

this is gonna become a multipart fic i think btw! it will probably be on here / ao3, haven’t fully decided yet but hope you enjoyed nonetheless!

now with a part two! click here

#angeldreamsoffanfic #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fanfic #platonic stobin #background jargyle #background ronance #but it’s pre every relationship #steve harrington and robin buckley are bffs #robin would die for steve #steve harrington has bad parents #but jim hopper adopts him because i said so #steve and eleven have a sibling bond #he’s the only one allowed to call her ellie by the way #this is gonna become an ao3 fic i think

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teatoptony · 7 months

Text

For All the Mary Janes

summary; 'in every other universe, gwen stacy falls for spider-man. and in every other universe, it doesn’t end well'. what about the mary janes, then?

or, in which you're the mary jane to miles's spider-man

pairing(s); e-1610! Miles Morales x reader, e-42! Miles Morales x reader

warning(s); i didn’t have any specific gender or race for r in mind while writing, but rio calls r ‘mija’ once and i think that’s ab it

maybe some incorrect usage of Spanish? Spanish speakers who can respond to my weird questions pls hmu

maybe ooc but it’s been in my drafts so long i just wanted to get it out tbh

implied/mentioned parental issues with reader, not proofread, written (mostly) at ao3 hours

You and Miles were always joined at the hip. Your parents knew each other well, so your families were together a lot. Mr. and Mrs. Morales saw you like their own daughter, often joking that you and Miles would be engaged when you got older with the way he could never leave you alone.

At least, up till around two years ago.

You and Miles started to grow apart when you got into Visions Academy. He thought it was a stupid school full of stuck-up rich kids who only cared about making connections that would help them along further down the line. You thought it was a good school that had a good track record of producing students that had a lot of success in what they wanted to do.

Some things were said the day before your transfer.

Since then, the two of you rarely texted or called. Mrs. Morales would often come by for coffee with your mom, tell you about how her son was doing and gush over 'how much you've grown' from last Tuesday, but that was about the only way you knew the vague outline of what he was up to.

You'd admit you felt lonely for a while. After all, Miles had been your best friend ever since you could remember. But you also weren't going to go running to him after everything he'd said.

I mean, was it really that bad to want a good future?

Soon enough though, you felt like yourself again. You met new people, made new contacts, and actual friends. Because contrary to popular belief, the people there weren't all mini business men and heartless CEOs in the making. They were just kids, after all.

And then, Miles won the draw. Just a few weeks before the start of the new semester, your parents mentioned that he'd be going to your school from now on in passing.

You didn't think much of it at first. I mean, everyone has that one childhood friend that they fell apart with, right? For the first week or so, you didn't even see his face much. In fact, you didn't see him at all, not even a glimpse in the halls.

That was about to change drastically.

Short story shorter, you caught a glimpse of him walking on the side of the school with pigeons stuck to his hands. A month or two later, Spider-Man climbed through your dorm window, ripping off his mask and ranting about some villain of the week.

"I couldn't even catch the guy-"

"Miles?"

"...You're not Ganke."

The two of you made up that night. He apologized, admitting he was being unfair and was upset that you were leaving his school. It didn't exactly clear everything, but it was a start. The two of you caught each other up on everything they had missed. In the end, the sun was about to come up and the both of you realized you hadn't gotten a minute of sleep on a school night.

From then on, the two of you get closer again. He went to you for the occasional rant or patch up, and he actively sought you out in school now, relieved to see a familiar face in the halls. Gradually, you got close to the point you'd call him one of your best friends and vice versa after around a year of radio static.

Everything was great. He was cute, funny - in an awkward way, but hey, he made you laugh - he looked out for you, and when he talked to you he did this cute little thing where he would play with the strings of his hoodie which he somehow always managed to layer on with like two other jackets and—

Oh yeah, did we mention the crush you had on him?

Because there was one.

Big huge one, right here. Materialized out of thin air looks like.

Which should have been fine. You were perfectly capable of hiding a crush. I mean, come on, it's high school. You would've been eaten alive if you couldn't.

Normally, you would even be confident that you could make your crush like you back. I mean, why wouldn't he?

Two words. One person.

Gwen Stacy.

It was like he could never go even one conversation without mentioning her.

Slight exaggeration? Maybe. Maybe not.

"Oh yeah, that's cool! Y'know, Gwen told me one time that—"

"You got an A, I knew you could do it! I told you so. Did you know Gwen got A's in—"

"Oh hey, you got your hair cut! Reminds me of that time when me and Gwen—"

At first, it was bearable. Sure, she came up annoyingly often whenever you talked, but she had just left this dimension, never to be seen again. Of course he was gonna miss her.

You laughed at all his stories, listened to every one even though he told the same six or seven ones over and over again. You even grew to like Gwen, as if you'd known her for the short amount of time Miles did, too.

But then two months passed. Then six. Then a whole year. Before you knew it, a year and four months had passed since the departure of Gwen Stacy.

And he still. Wouldn't. Shut. Up.

You had tried to understand. You really did.

But you can only hear the same damn jokes so many times before you get a migraine.

Pick any story. You could list off every variation of how Miles would tell it off the top of your head.

Gwen Stacy became the daughter of one of your mom’s friends, so to speak. That one girl in the neighborhood you couldn’t help but envy.

And worst of all, it was like he wished you were her.

Whenever you did something, he would tell you how Gwen could do it better. He would ask you whether or not you thought Gwen would like certain trinkets he found around town, and kept a collection of them in one of his drawers so he could give them to her one day. He was even studying quantum physics instead of art so that he could make his own multiversal gateway - a safe one, so that he could unlock the multiverse, possibly for good.

It hurt when he zoned out while you were telling him about you, thinking about her; your day, what you wanted to study, how your parents were fighting a lot again lately and you were struggling because of it, how you'd joined a new band—

"A band, huh?" Miles suddenly perked up, finally looking up from his sketchbook. "Did I tell you Gwen's in a band? It's called the Mary Janes—"

"Miles would you please stop?"

A pause, both of you mildly surprised at how you'd snapped at him.

The two of you were at your dorm, seated side-by-side on the bed with your legs folded in front of you. It was Friday, the day before Mr. Morales’s pre signing-in party.

The boy looked at you, a questioning look on his face. "What's wrong?"

And that tilt with his head - he really didn't know, did he? You couldn't decide if that was better or worse.

"Miles, I know Gwen's in a band," He tried to say something, but you didn't let him speak before you continued. "I know she's a drummer, I know she does ballet, I know she had to shave half of her head because you couldn't control your powers - hell, the whole school knows that—"

"C’mon, don’t bring that up—"

"—I know every single story she told you while she was here, and I know every single detail of what you two did and how you did it. And I know she does everything I can do and she does it better. I’m tired of hearing it, Miles." His eyebrows furrowed, a slightly hurt look flashing across his face. "I’m sorry you miss her and I’m sorry she’s gone, but I just can’t be around you if all you’re gonna do is compare me to her."

A moment of silence settled in the air. You hoped Miles would understand. Surely, he’d see how tedious this was getting.

"All I’m asking is for you to tone it down."

Another beat passes without a word from the boy. He’s looking into your eyes, but it doesn’t seem like he’s all there. Like there’s a world past your irises that he’s seeing for the first time.

"I- I’m sorry, y/n, I can’t do that." Miles finally says, his gaze turning away from yours and to the sketch he’d been working on for the last hour. You glanced down at it as well, the bright blue eyes of the one and only Gwen Stacy meeting yours.

"You’re the only one I can talk to on this," he said quietly, softly closing the sketchbook and tapping a finger nervously on the cover.

"Ganke?"

"Ganke’s fine, he’s great, he’s just.. not someone I can go to for these things."

You took a deep breath, the guilt of having to tell him ‘no’ building up in your chest. You knew his relationship with his parents were complicated at the moment, and he didn’t really have friends outside of you and Ganke. But still.. it was like he wasn’t at all interested in what was going on in your life ever since your initial reconnection.

It wasn’t like you expected a complete 50:50 give-and-take in relationships, but honestly you felt like you were talking to a robot with very limited audio cues.

"Miles, you don’t listen to me anymore. The only time you actually respond to anything I say is when it’s something even remotely related to Gwen."

"That’s not true!" Miles protested. You watched as he tried to find something to argue his point, only to come up empty. His shoulders sagged a little.

"But you gotta understand, Gwen - I’m not gonna see her again, at least until I figure out.. everything." He said in a quiet voice. "I need to talk to someone. Can’t you understand?”

"I’m not trying to shut everything down, I’m just asking you to pay attention to me every once in a while." You sighed. "And if you’e not willing to do that… do you even think of me as a friend?"

Miles left your dorm not long after that little talk, sneaking out the same way he snuck in; through the window. You dug your nails into your palms, breathing in and out in a steady rhythm to push down any sadness you may have felt. It was the second time you and Miles had grown apart, this time maybe your fault a little more than his. It felt like it, anyway.

Still, you felt like you’d done the right thing.

You hoped so, anyway.

It was an hour before Jeff Morales’s technically-not-captain-yet-but-will-be-soon celebration. Your dad and yourself had come early to prepare everything and set up all the decorations. Your mom apparently ‘couldn’t make it’. It was the third time in the last two weeks she cancelled on plans that your dad was involved in.

You stacked red plastic cups on one of the tables, a cooler full of ice and two-litre soda bottles to your left. Miles’s parents had insisted they didn’t need any help, but your dad had insisted right on back that the two of you wanted to. You didn’t mind. You’d cleared your evening for the event anyway, so it’s not like you had anything better to do.

The one thing that made you kind of regret coming was your lack of a jacket. It’d been really sunny in the morning, so you’d figured it would be a warm night. A breeze picked up and sent a light chill through your body, causing you to just barely shiver.

"Mija," Mrs. Morales called, coming up from behind you and laying a hand on your shoulder. "You’re freezing."

"Oh, I’m fine, mama," you replied, smiling at her. She gave you a look that said ‘we both know that isn’t true’.

"Miles might have something in his room," she suggested, "I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you borrowed one of his clothes."

You thanked her but refused, claiming it might get warmer once the guests started to arrive and the party was at full swing. She must have noticed something was off when she mentioned Miles, because she raised an eyebrow and shook her head lightly before asking,

"What did he do now?"

Either you’re really bad at hiding things from her or her motherly sixth-sense worked on you too. You hesitated, but decided it wouldn’t hurt to tell her. After all, Rio had always been like a mom to you.

"We had a fight - if you can even call it that, anyway, about a girl," you said, fiddling with a plastic cup. "We’re not on real good terms right now, I don’t think…"

Rio looked slightly surprised for a moment, then something seemed to click into place. She sighed and put her hands on your cheeks. "He’s a little bit slow," she said, giving you a sympathetic smile. "But he’ll get there. Eventually."

She then squished your face before immediately letting go, making you laugh. "Now go get yourself a jacket. I don’t want my only daughter to freeze to death."

You held your hands up in surrender as she pointed to the stairs, swiftly making your way down to the Moraleses’ flat. You had a spare key that Miles’s parents had given you a long while ago, when your parents used to have full on screaming matches in the middle of the living room every other day.

Within a couple minutes you’d grabbed one of the dozen coats, hoodies and jackets strewn about Miles’s closet, pulling the soft material over your shoulders as you took a glance around his room. Everything was about the same as you’d seen two or three weeks ago, save for a few new stickers laid about the desk.

There was an all-too-familiar sketchbook on the bed, one similar to what Miles had been scribbling in last night in your dorm, just in a different color. This one looked a bit more used, so you supposed he’d gotten it and packed it full of Gwen Stacy just after she left this reality. The thought put a bitter taste on your tongue.

A half an hour into the party, Miles still hadn’t showed up. He was supposed to be here at least twenty minutes ago, and you could tell his parents were getting both worried and annoyed. Rio asked around for her son as Jeff chatted with some colleagues. Suddenly, an auntie shoved a mic into Mrs. Morales’s hand, drawing everybody’s attention to her by clinking her glass. Jeff looked away in what could only be described as complete horror.

"Um, hi…"

You grinned as she continued with embarrassing stories about her husband, from little anecdotes from when they were dating to how he was almost 10lbs as a baby. It was then that Mr. Morales jumped in, quickly taking the mic away from her and giving his own speech.

"—And to my son…"

You grimaced as he raised his cup, looking around for someone who wasn’t there. The two of you met eyes instead, and you shook your head to tell him he hadn’t showed with an apologetic look. He turned to his wife, only for her to do the same. He cleared his throat before continuing.

"…The reason I do any of this in the first place. So.. I love you Miles."

Afterwards, the DJ put the records on again. People are talking, laughing, congratulating, creating a warm, buzzing atmosphere. You’re dragged away by a few little kids to play with them over by a small cluster of barrels, which they’ve decided is their ‘lair’. You play make believe with them for a little while as their parents stand a bit away with your own dad, occasionally glancing over at you to make sure the kids are behaving.

It’s then that Miles finally shows up, pushing the door open with two boxes in his arms. You follow him through your peripheral vision as he tries to avoid his parents, ultimately failing. You’re not sure what they’re saying, but it doesn’t seem to be going that well. He shows them the contents of his boxes, which doesn’t seem to impress them too much.

After a couple more words, Mr. Morales raises his voice, the DJ trying to divert people’s attention away by upping the volume but ultimately giving up.

"What do you got to tell me so bad?"

"You know what? Never mind."

Miles walked away, pulling his hood up as his dad yelled after him about him being grounded for two months. Must’ve been really bad, huh?

You waited for the music to come back on before you made your way to the exit, ruffling one of the little kids’ hair as he skittered away with his sister. You’re just going to check on him for a minute, just to see if he’s okay. You can do that… right? I mean sure, it might be awkward since things had ended like that last night, but still.

No one else was going to.

You let yourself into the flat once again, approaching Mile’s room with soft footsteps. You’re just outside the door when—

"Are these your drawings?"

You stop dead in your tracks. Your heart freezes right along with you. For a moment, you felt like a deer in headlights.

A feeling crawls its way under your skin, cold and slippery. You don’t know how you know, but you’re absolutely positive.

"Missed you too."

Gwen Stacy.

You’re on your way home, your hands rubbing up and down your arms to try to warm yourself up during the walk. You lived a little while away from Miles’s place, but it’s nothing you can’t walk.

You’d left the jacket on the Morales’ couch, turning on your heel and leaving the moment you heard her voice.

Damn it.

When had she gotten back? How had she gotten back? What was Miles’s reaction?

What were they doing now?

…Did you really want to know?

As your brain clouded over with questions, you took a wrong turn. Maybe two. Or three. Honestly, you didn’t know. Once you realized that this definitely wasn’t your neighborhood, you stopped yourself mid-step, looking around to see if anything was familiar at all.

Your eyes settled on a building, as there really wasn’t anything other than that around here other than some roads and bridges. One of the windows were glowing.

Then the whole structure began to rumble.

The ground beneath your feet started to turn… black…?

Wha—

You fell.

Not for too long, but you did.

You dropped around six feet onto hard concrete, twisting your ankle in the process. You cried out in pain and surprise.

"What the—?"

"Y/n?"

You looked up at that. You knew that voice.

Except, you didn’t.

The first thing you noticed is that this definitely was not the place you were in before. This place was more narrow, more dark. Light rain pattered on your skin as your hands supported your sitting position, wondering what the hell was going on.

The person who’d said your name was at the entrance to the alley you’d been.. teleported? to.

They took hesitant steps over to you, and, for some reason, you didn’t feel scared that this complete stranger had cornered you in a place you’d never even seen before.

Maybe the voice is what made you think it was alright.

Or maybe it was his face, which made your heart stop its primary function for the second time today.

"Miles?"

But he wasn’t Miles. At least.. not your Miles. This one was skinnier, just a little shorter. His accent had more of a Spanish touch to it and, most of all, his hair was braided into two sections that reached just below his shoulders.

No. He was very much not your Miles Morales.

Nevertheless, you knew he wouldn’t hurt you. There was something in his eyes — regret? Happiness? Sadness? Anger? Confusion? Probably all of the above.

He got closer, and closer, and closer. Once he reached where you were half-laying, he crouched down and tilted his umbrella until it sheltered your body more than his.

"…Are you hurt?" He asked, giving you a once-over. You just nodded, still putting all the pieces together.

Had you—

Did you—?

The boy in front of you studied your face for a little while, but then ultimately shook his head and shrugged off his jacket, handing it over to you.

"Come on. It’s cold outside."

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denileisariver · 2 months

Text

pairing: batman aka bruce wayne x f!reader

summary: you move into wayne manor, but not everything is as it seems.

warnings: dark!bruce, established relationships, male and female masturbation, descriptions of male and female genitalia, voyeurism, another age gap fic cuz i love dilf!bruce, reader is described as a vigilante and being dicks friend, some non-consensual touching kinda, no piv unfortunately :(, reader is also described as having hair long enough to pull, one tiny use of the word 'baby', size kink if you squint, some overall darkish batfam? not rlly but I'll tag them as yandere anyway.

a/n: tbh i jus pulled this outta nowhere and have no idea where this might lead but fuck it we ball.

you had no idea what you'd gotten yourself into.

your new life at wayne manor was fast-paced and quite absurd. the transition from living in a cramped dorm with one girl to an ancient mansion with a bunch of other heroes whose lives you could barely keep up with hit you like a ton of bricks, it gave you whiplash.

you'd been friends with dick grayson ever since the two of you were teenagers. he was always someone you could easily bond with. whether it was about school, relationships, or being a vigilante the majority of the short time the both of you had been on this earth, he was always there for you. he was your best friend.

you never really had anyone you would consider family. orphaned at such a young age, you grew up to be cautious of other people, always wary that they would abandon you or find ways to exploit you.

at the beginning of your friendship with dick, you had honestly been quite jealous of the older male. you knew it was a bit selfish, but you couldn't help it. there was always a small part of you that despised him for being taken in by a wealthy man who could support him at his every whim, his newfound family that seemed to only grow bigger and bigger each time you saw him. how despite all the terrible things he had been through, he managed to find happiness, or at least content in his life.

and you wanted that, too.

but you always buried those feelings deep down. it wasn't his fault, and you couldn't blame him for it either, so you pretended it was never there in the first place. instead, you put on a brave face. it wasn't too difficult, and for some short moments, you did truly believe that you were happy, regardless of how out of place you felt sometimes around dick and his brothers and sisters.

brothers and sisters. those words were so foreign to you, that when you looked over the relationships you had with dick and his family, you almost had a sort of epiphany. none of them were blood related at all, but they went through thick and thin together no matter what. and a small part of you hoped, wished, that maybe you could be apart of that too.

maybe it was all just irrational.

dick and you had spent a lot of time together. at school, at the justice league headquarters, fighting side by side at unholy hours of the night, or just casual hangouts. you knew him well enough to catch that subtle look in his eyes whenever he looked at you. pity. it was there whenever he brought up what parties bruce was throwing for one of the kids' birthdays, or how tim and jason got into another petty fight that he had to resolve, damian getting awards at school that the family had to attend.

all experiences and problems that you never had, and probably never would. at least, that's what you thought, up until now.

"why don't you come stay wayne manor?"

at first, the question caught you off guard. sure, you spent countless of sleepovers at the place, and you'd known a decent amount about it to get around by yourself with ease, but still. you never considered the possibility of actually staying there. and by the look on dick's face, he seems to notice that too. "i meant- if you want. i just know how lonely it can be for you sometimes, and it would just be easier for us, y'know with our nighttime activities and-"

your eyes roll at his quick rambling, internally cringing a bit at the prospect of him mentioning you being fucking lonely. you flash him a weak smile, your tone dripping with sarcasm.

"sheesh, dick, thanks." you don't mean to sound so harsh, but it's difficult when all of this is so personal to you.

"i didn't mean it like that. and it's no big deal, really. we have plenty of space, and im sure bruce won't mind. maybe alfred, since he has to pick up after your ass but-" dick continues, shrugging it off like it really didn't mean anything. like he wasn't asking you to pack up your shit and move in with him and his family. "you're always welcome there."

and at that, your heart softens a bit. of course, you knew that, but even when you stayed over for a weekend or two, you never wanted to feel like you were overstaying. "i'll think about it, dick."

and you did. you thought about it quite a lot actually, even before dick had asked you that ludicrous question. and he was right. it would make things easier. you'd have a stable roof over your head, instead of the cracked ones that leaked like your dormatory back in gotham. you'd be able to spend more time with the people you cared about. you'd have people that cared about you too, look after you, and defend you if needed. it couldn't be that bad, right?

that's how you ended up here.

in a room that was bigger than all the shitty squats you lived since you were a kid combined. there was so much space you didn't know what to do with it. but the rowdiness of the boys and girls outside your door brought a smile to your face. life at wayne manor would call for some serious adjustment, but you felt like you could power through it. plus, it was only a bonus that you'd always thought jason was cute, much to dick's disgust.

the first couple of weeks staying here were honestly going great, much to your surprise. the family had welcomed you with open arms, some of them not even batting an eye when you regularly attended dinner with them, or walked around in your pajamas, or were quick to be in the cave once it was time for patrol. like you were supposed to be there all along.

your friendship with dick was more of the same, only now you lived with him. jason and you had gotten closer, but you didn't trust calling whatever feelings you had for him enough to call it a crush. you didn't always understand whatever nerd stuff tim would ramble about, but you listened to him anways. you appreciated how much stephanie and cass involved you into their movie nights and gossiping. well more you and stephanie gossiping than cass, but it still felt like you had the girl best friends you had always craved for. damian took some time to warm up to you, but you could still bond with him over his art and love for animals. alfred loved you already, so there wasn't much there to add. and then there was bruce.

you couldn't quite place your finger on bruce. even when you were younger, his stoicism and broodiness was something you couldn't get past, only in rare moments. there was always something about him that you found off-putting. granted that he was always kind, if that's even the right word for it, he never made you feel unwelcome, but you always felt uneasy around the man.

maybe it was how he seemed to be able to read you like an open book, how he could disappear in a room full of people, how he never quite matched the energy in the room, his incessant staring. god, you hated how much he stared at you. bruce's gaze made you feel small, when you usually were confident and assured of yourself. you could feel his eyes burning into you across the room, and you didn't know how to say anything about it or do much for that matter besides distract yourself.

you thought that by now you'd be able to get over whatever it was about him, that you'd known bruce long enough that you could just play it off as him being strange in his own way, but those feelings had only intensified ever since you moved into the mansion.

chills would run down your spine whenever he'd place a heavy hand on your waist, seemingly as casual touch, but it always lingered too long. held on too tight. this look in his eyes, but you couldn't tell what it was. you had brought it up briefly to dick, but he didn't think much of it, laughing it off, saying something along the lines that's just bruce, you'll get used to it.

but you didn't. you couldn't.

especially now that bruce was inviting you to spar with him. to make sure you're prepared, he said. prepared for what exactly, you're not so sure. but you reluctantly agreed, trying to see it as something useful and educational that you could actually use while fighting against whatever villain of the day thought about creating mayhem in gotham.

bruce was strong and brutish compared to you. every time you tried to throw your best at him, he always managed to get the upper hand, and you'd be flat on the sparring mat in a matter of seconds. it had almost seemed like childsplay to him, and if you didn't know any better, you'd think that maybe deep down a part of him enjoyed it.

he'd roughly grab and contort your body in uncomfortable positions, to test your flexibility, as he so called it. your hair would be pulled unforgivingly, and he'd place his weight on top of you, telling you to try and escape from him, much to your avail. you felt like he was taunting you, "you think those criminals in gotham are gonna be easy on you like i am?"

it didn't fucking feel like he was going easy. bruce would place his hand on your neck and choke you out till you were clawing at his skin, only letting go if you tried to beg or actually managed to use your own skill to get him to stop, but that had only happened once and never again. and when you writhed and struggled in his bruising hold, you'd notice that damn look in his eyes again.

no, this wasn't normal sparring.

you'd seen him spar with the other boys and girls, and it had never been like this. and although he was still ruthless, he'd given them actual advice. advice that you'd seen them use out in the field on multiple occasions.

you'd been wandering around gotham long enough to know when someone had it out for you. whether it was sex, crime, or something else, you knew that distinct look in a persons eyes.

a predator hunting down prey.

☆☆☆☆☆

you tried to wash off whatever the hell that was with bruce down the drain. everytime the eery thought of him having less than good intentions for you came up, you pushed it away. whether it was out of guilt for even thinking of him in that way, cause he saved so many people each night without expecting anything in return, or because he was your best friends father, and no he'd never hurt you. that's just unreasonable.

the whole situation just made your head hurt. maybe it's just an overreaction. dick said that whatever this behavior was is normal of bruce. and so you foolishly continue to believe it.

you search your drawers for a fresh pair of panties, too tired to realize that some of your favorite pairs had gone missing. the room, which you personalized after your couple of weeks here, feels suddenly strange to sleep by yourself in.

when you first moved in, you slept like a baby. you felt safe, like this was a normal thing because you'd slept well in these walls ever since your sleepovers with dick. now, it just felt like something was watching you. a feeling that sometimes left goosebumps on your skin, and you couldn't understand what it was.

there's bruises on your skin from how tightly bruce held onto you. some as big as the shape of his hands on your wrists, and as small as the tips of his fingers on your neck. you're completely oblivious to the camera that's watching you closely, placed strategically so you'd never find it. you're oblivious to the man whose behind them.

even if you had just taken a shower, you decide to get yourself dirty again, in other ways. your favorite thing to relieve stress. playtime. so you trace your fingertips down your body with a feather-light touch, gently tweaking and rolling your fingers between your nipples to get yourself excited. you allow your mind to go blank for a while.

you have no idea that bruce's breathing only gets heavier when he realizes what you're about to do. don't know how his cock is hardening beneath his joggers when you push your panties to the side, gathering up your slick and finding your clit to pleasure yourself. don't know that he's stroking himself too, between the layers of his pants and boxers, with your panties in his hand.

how he wishes there was better light in the darkness of your room, so he could get a better look at your glistening pussy, and swearing to himself that he'll get a good look at it upclose one day. he matches your pace, making sure he only gets to cum at the same time you do.

you seem frustrated. he thinks that maybe he can fix that for you. you lick at your middle and index finger, using your own saliva as lubricant, teasing yourself by slowly rubbing along your wet folds. torturing him. the soft pads of your fingers find your clit, setting a medium-slow pace. and bruce tries his best to mimick your actions. pulling himself out of the constraints of his clothes, teasing the fat mushroom head of his cock, gliding a thumb over the tiny slit where his pre-cum dripped out of him, then moving it down his shaft to gently pump it with his hand.

and when your fingers pick up the pace, so do his hands. his eyes intently watch the screen before him, admiring the way your body arches up off the bed, head pushing into the pillows. your chest heaves a bit, and by the way you're biting on your bottom lip, he can tell you're struggling to be quiet. he doesn't want you be, but he'll take what he can get, for now.

your hips writhe a bit, almost like you wanted to fuck back at your fingers, desperately needing something thicker than your petite hands. you move both hands down to your cunt, so you can play with your clit and finger fuck yourself at the same time, and the action makes your pussy cry at the attention.

bruces muscles flex with each jerk of his hand, his free hand going down to gently cup his balls. his eyes hone in on your tiny digits, moving in and out of your cunt with one sole purpose, your juices creating a filthy sound that's like heaven to bruce's ears. he wants to be there so he could get a taste of that sweet pussy, but he suffices with your panties in his mouth, biting down on the fabric.

he could see the markings he left on your delicate skin in the moonlight that peeks into your room, possessiveness coursing through him. he feels pathetic for even doing this, but he can't help himself. bruce's cock twitches in his hand at the sight, knowing your orgasm was coming quickly by how sloppy and rushed your movements were becoming.

it's been so long since you've touched yourself. too long in fact, that your cunt spasms and gushes, completely soaking your hands and the sheets beneath you in the process. and bruce allows himself to cum too, his cock jumping a bit with every rope of the sticky substance, covering his happy trail and abs.

you seem too tired to care that you're laying in your own pussy juice, darkening the fabric below. bruce's eyes are soft, watching you roll over on your side, not even bothering to clean up afterwards. that was a tomorrow's problem.

bruce makes sure to save the precious evidence that the camera caught, knowing it'll be hidden away for his eyes only. he watches you fall asleep in your own mess till his cock begins to soften, placing himself back into his boxers.

he knows you pretty well, he'd like to think. knows you well enough that if you knew what he'd just done, you'd probably slap him across the face. another part of him hopes it turns you on just as much as it turns him on, but maybe that's just him feeding into his delusion. he trails his eyes over your sleeping form just one more time, a small goodnight baby whispered from his lips, even if you can't hear him.

he shuts off the computer for the night, hoping that he'll soon be lucky enough to watch you touch yourself again tomorrow. or maybe even get to fuck you. soon. really fucking soon.

he'll have to remind himself to be a bit grateful for dick inviting you to stay here, in his home. bruce hadn't been too proud when he suggested it to dick, bringing up that you'd easily accept to their request of moving into wayne manor. and he was right.

if dick or anyone else was suspicious about what bruce was doing, or planned on doing, he wasn't too worried of it. he also knew his adopted children well enough that they wouldn't tell on him, and loved you too much to allow you to leave, and for that, he was also grateful.

he had you right where he wanted you, and he'd give you a really hard time if you even thought about leaving now.

#batman x reader #bruce wayne x reader #smut #batman #bruce wayne #batfam #dick grayson #yandere batman #yandere batfam #yandere bruce wayne

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magics-neptunes-things · 4 months

Text

Part Of Me

Alexia please come back, the kids and I miss you 💔

No request for this one, only from my imagination. Enjoy!

TW : Mention of abusive relation, a little of angst I guess

______________________________________________________________

Since joining FC Barcelona a few months ago, you have become the biggest plot for your teammates. Before signing in Barcelona, you were under contract with PSG but you had not set foot on the football fields since months because of an injury. Your signing with the Barcelona club surprised a lot of people since you had not proven yourself for a long time, your absence falling at the worst time, just before the eventual renewal of your contract in the French capital.

But it's now in Barcelona that you evolve and your discretion foolproof intrigues your teammates a lot. You are almost never present at organized parties and if you didn't arrive late at regular intervals, you would probably be almost transparent. Not in the field that said and fortunately. Since you're goalkeeper and a turn is made between the other goalkeepers and you, you don't participate in all the matches and you are not called every week. This undoubtedly adds to the shadow that characterizes you.

Alexia cannot tell if it's this part of the mystery that draws her gaze irremediably on you. But still, she regularly surprises herself by letting her eyes slide on you during training, something that Mapi hasn't missed. She doesn’t hesitate to tease her best friend on the subject, Alexia standing up to her every time by telling her that it’s just that she's intrigued by the shadows around you.

It's the truth, but but there is more. When you aren't officially summoned to the matches, you nevertheless attend them in the stands. This is where you exchanged your first words with Alexia, first turned on football before the conversations became lighter. You’ve noticed that Alexia sometimes tries to learn more about your private life, but you’ve always managed to avoid her questions.

********

"Sorry, sorry, I’m late" you apologize to Jonatan, coming running into the weight room, jumping on one leg to put on your second shoes.

Mapi bows an eyebrow towards Alexia who shrugs her shoulders, when your coach apologizes you with a vague wave of the hand before asking you to join Ona to be her training partner. She greets you with a little smile and Alexia can hear her ask you if everything is okay. You answer her with a positive smile, before focusing on the requested exercises.

"It’s so weird. No one ever scolds her" mumbles Mapi towards Alexia. "When I'm late I have to run at least five laps."

Alexia shrugs her shoulders without answering, turning her gaze on Mapi when she elbows her.

"Stop staring at her for two seconds, everyone will catch you"

"Leave her alone, Maria" Ingrid scolds her, triggering a little cute argument between the two.

Alexia takes advantage of the exchange between the two women to shift her attention back to you. You look tired this morning and she wonders what made your night complicated. Do you suffer from insomnia? She doesn’t know anything about your life, doesn’t know if you have a boyfriend or girlfriend.

"Did you offer to come tonight?" Ingrid asks Alexia nicely.

"She received the message about the Whatsapp group like everyone else, but I don’t think she replied"

"Go ask her directly. Maybe she’s just shy?"

Alexia bites her lip as she hears Ingrid’s attempt to guess your behavior. It’s true that if we compare you to Mapi or Lucy, you are rather the opposite of them in terms of character. Alexia herself doesn't participate in parties when it involves going to a nightclub, but comes willingly when it comes to film evenings organized at someone's house.

"I can try" ended up answering Alexia thoughtfully, her eyes on you again.

As usual at the end of the training, you are the first to be dressed and ready to go. You are always polite and smiling with everyone, but you give the constant impression of having hundreds of things to do outside of games and practice.

But Alexia beat you in speed this time and she catches you when you walk along the corridors to return to your car.

"Hey, Y/N?"

You turn to her and smile at her when she arrives at your height, giving her an interrogative look.

"I was wondering if you were coming to Aitana’s tonight? You didn’t answer in the groupchat."

"Oh… no, I don’t think I can, I'm sorry"

You feel a little guilty about saying no, but you don’t really have a choice. Your regrets are sincere and it seems to have caught Alexia’s attention. The blonde bites her lip when she resumes speaking, playing nervously with her bracelet.

"It’s sad. I just… I mean, I’d really like you to come."

This surprises you and you look at her for a few seconds as you continue to walk, wondering if she's mocking you. But no, she seems sincere and you even find yourself blushing a little.

"I’ll see what I can do to free myself if that can makes you happy" you end up answering in a low voice.

"Really?"

"Yeah"

You are surprised by the big smile that appears on your captain’s face, but it's nothing compared to the one you feel when she approaches you to put a kiss on your cheek. Alexia turns her heels and in a whirlwind of blonde hair, she disappeared.

"So?" Mapi asks Alexia when she drops by her side, back in the locker room, putting her head in her hands.

"It’s a disaster. She’s gonna think I’m the weirdest person in the world."

"What are you other than that anyway?" snorts Mapi, before receiving a slap behind the head from her girlfriend.

********

When you arrive in front of Aitana, you find yourself hesitating before pressing the bell. You have never participated in this kind of party and even if everyone is very nice to you, you don't know if you will feel comfortable with them outside the field.

"Can’t find the doorbell?"

Lucy’s amused voice sounds behind you and you turn to see her arrive in the company of Ona. You find yourself mumbling some excuse, but you are quickly diverted from what you want to answer by the quick embrace that the English offers you before ringing. You also greet Ona and finally you are happy not to arrive alone.

Aitana comes to open you shortly after and greets you in turn with an embrace to each. A big smile spreads on her face when she sees you and you find yourself having the right to a full visit of her home. This allows you to see those who are already present and until you enter the living room, you feel a slight disappointment not to see Alexia. But the blonde is installed on the sofa in the living room, next to Irene, when you get there.

Your eyes cross quickly and you respond timidly to her smile before answering Aitana that you want to drink anything as long as it's not alcoholic. Your Fanta in hand, you return to the living room without really knowing where to sit. But you don't hesitate long since you suddenly find yourself facing Alexia, also a drink in the hand.

"It’s great that you could come" smiled Alexia looking at you

You nod, not being able to stop yourself from realizing that Alexia is as beautiful off the field as in her football kit. Her blonde hair falls out of cascade around her face and her dress look is particularly attractive to your taste.

"I wouldn't have wished to grieve my Captain" you answer with a slight smile.

Alexia doesn't answer and an emotion that you cannot describe passes through her eyes, before she continues on another topic of conversation. Some of your teammates will come to mingle with you, Cata and Sandra in particular, as you train together as goalkeepers, but you will mainly spend your early evening with Alexia. The rest too, since you find yourself sitting next to her when the film you have gathered for begins. Usually, you don’t allow yourself to think about any attraction that you might have for someone else, but you have to admit that if you have to put someone at the top of the list, it would be Alexia. You find yourself struggling with sensations that you shouldn’t feel when her knee grazes yours, making you feel like a teenager experiencing her first crush. At the end of the film, you get up to join Aitana in her kitchen, embarking on the passage of dirty dishes to facilitate her task. "I’m sorry, but I have to go" you announce with a slight smile. You don’t like the idea of leaving first, but you don’t really have a choice. "Don’t worry, it’s good that you could come. It’s a pleasure to have you with us" she assures you before offering you an embrace. "Are you leaving already?" Alexia’s voice resounds behind you and you turn in her direction, to explain to her too that you have no choice. "For once it's not you who leaves first" Aitana laughs in the direction of Alexia. The Spanish woman smiles and puts dishes in Aitana’s sink before resuming speaking. "I’ll leave too. I have an interview tomorrow before practice." With that, you find yourself saying goodbye to your teammates at the same time and leaving Aitana’s home together. When you find yourself outside, you offer a hug to Alexia to say goodbye, finding you troubled by her smell. You shiver when you feel her stroking your back and you suddenly realize the warmth of her body against yours, the softness of her skin, her hair that pleasantly caresses your face. And more intimately her chest against yours.

"It was nice to spend time with you outside the stadium" says Alexia.

Her mouth is right next to your ear since she still hasn’t released you. You quickly detach from her, feeling how disturbed you are by her closeness. But Alexia doesn’t release you completely, as if she wanted to enjoy this embrace a little longer. Your faces are only a few inches apart when your eyes cross and you wonder how you could never get lost in her honey-hazelnut eyes before that.

You don’t know how long your eye exchange lasts or what Alexia can read in yours. What you know is that when she slowly approaches her face from yours, you can’t resist the call of her lips. The kiss is sweet and delicate, Alexia gives you the impression that you are made of glass and ready to break into a thousand pieces. Which is probably the case.

You are breathless when you end the kiss, amazement taking precedence over the rest. Alexia Putellas has just kissed you.

"I.. I have to go" you stutter before you run away to your car.

The implicit rule asking everyone to send a message about the group when they come back, you simply send a "Home!" when you are, but you hurry to ignore your phone after that.

********

"It’s been three days and she never came back to training"

Sitting at the kitchen table of Mapi and Ingrid, Alexia ruminates her mixture of despair and questioning. She doesn't understand why you reacted in this way to your kiss, especially since you answered it and even extended it. She doesn't understand your disappearance after that and how you can be so traumatized that you simply decided to skip training.

Thanks to her title of captain, Alexia knows that it's officially for illness reasons that you didn't put a finger in the Barcelona stadium. But she can’t believe it.

Alexia is seated facing Mapi in front of a cup of coffee that she has not touched while Ingrid prepares a meal for them to regain strength after their training. The couple take Alexia here, touched by her distress.

"Maybe you're a very bad kisser?" laughs at Mapi, before abruptly shutting up when she receives a slap behind the head from her girlfriend.

"Stop doing that!" whines Mapi.

"Stop teasing your bestfriend!" answers back Ingrid

"Do you think so?" asked Alexia, ignoring their little fight, turning her head sharply towards the tattooed woman.

"Of course not, I'm sure it has nothing to do with it" intervenes Ingrid by raising rolling her eyes.

"How can you know that?" Mapi sulks, crossing her arms on her chest.

"I should never have kissed her" sighs Alexia before letting her forehead go against the wooden table in an alarming thud.

Mapi rolls her eyes in front of her best friend’s despair as Ingrid puts three plates on the table.

"What is done is done, you cannot change anything. On the other hand you can move your ass a little to make things better" replies the blonde, grabbing her cutlery.

"What do you mean?"

Alexia’s curious gaze rises on her best friend, but it is once again Ingrid who answers, the other blonde now having her mouth full of food.

"Go to her. You don’t need an excuse, just tell her the truth. That you’re worried about her."

Mapi simply agrees with Ingrid’s proposal and points to the Norwegian with her fork, nodding harshly. Basically, Ingrid isn't wrong, at least that’s what Alexia says when she looks out the window. "It’s still strange this behavior, to want to go home as soon as she finished training or matches." Alexia sighs thoughtfully before widening her eyes. "What if she’s married? You think I kissed a married woman?" "Oh god" sighs Ingrid as Mapi stands up on her chair abruptly. "Imagine she’s married to someone abusive? That would explain why she has so little freedom." "Okay, stop now" Ingrid intervenes again. "Alexia eats and goes to see her. And you, shut up" Mapi groans and shifts her attention to her plate, but nevertheless obeys quickly. Alexia also grabs her fork, thoughtfully thanking the brunette for her cooking. A few hours later, Alexia finds herself in front of an apartment on the ground floor of a residential area, where you live. It’s a bit out of town, but that doesn’t surprise her. In her opinion, it fits well with the discretion that characterizes you. After hesitating for a few more seconds, Alexia finally presses the doorbell button. It takes you a few minutes to answer, your surprise displayed on your face when you find yourself facing Alexia. You don't open the door entirely, sliding only your face by the interscice, which once again intrigues the blonde. She runs through your face with her eyes and it's true that you look tired. You have dark circles, drawn lines and your hair is styled in a messy bun. "Ale?" "Sorry to barge in like this without warning but uh... can we talk?"

You bite your lip while looking at her, apparently hesitating how you will answer her. This again makes Alexia mad with worry. What if Mapi was right? But you end up nodding, before going out the apartment after taking a look inside and gently closing the door behind you. It wasn’t what Alexia expected.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay"

Alexia talks nervously, realizing that you will not speak first.

"Oh… yes, I'm okay. I mean… the disease, all that" you mumble and shrug.

La Reina remains silent for long seconds, so long that you end up looking up at her face. You see her looking at you attentively and you find yourself foolishly blushing. The memory of your kiss has stuck in your head all these days and you have to use all your concentration capacity not to look at her lips.

"Listen Y/N, if your absence is related to what happened at the end of the evening…"

"Oh… no, I… it’s nothing to do with that, I promise"

You find yourself stuttering again and you hate yourself for it. If you wanted to give Alexia a good impression, you can hardly do worse.

"So what is it? To be honest, I can’t believe you’re sick. If something happens or you need help, you know we’re here for you? The others and myself, too"

You find it hard to support her gaze and you find yourself looking over her shoulder again. Without knowing what to say.

"Y/N"

The way she says your name in a mixture of tenderness and affection would have been enough to give you chills, but the fact that she touches your cheek with her fingers supports the sensation. That works though, your eyes quickly turning over on her face. But you step back, remembering that you can’t let go with her that way.

Which is terribly frustrating. Alexia seems to think the same, her eyes letting pass a burst of disappointment or rejection before she recovers. "I can’t. Not yet." You speak as well of any rapprochement with her as of a confession on your part. But Mapi’s assumption quickly comes back to Alexia’s mind and she gently takes your arm in her hand. "Is someone hurting you?" The surprise that appears on your face is so sincere that Alexia quickly understands that they have gone wrong. But it’s a relief and it’s comforting a few seconds before the frustration comes back. What would stop you from confiding in her if it wasn’t that? "No one is hurting me" you answer softly, though touched by Alexia’s level of worry. "It’s just that I don’t think I’m fit to get into a relationship right now, Ale. It wouldn’t be interesting for you for one second, much more annoying and constraining than anything else." "You can’t or you don't want to?" Alexia asks, almost ignoring what you just said. The answer you’re going to give Alexia will probably change a lot what she’s going to tell you in return, you know it perfectly. You could lie to her, but when you find yourself once again immersed in hwe eyes, you are incapable. Sighing slowly, you decide to tell her the truth. "I can’t." Obviously, this is the answer Alexia was hoping for, you realize it quickly when she steps in your direction. As delicately as before, her fingers stroke your face and you briefly close your eyes to reopen them when you feel her forehead leaning against yours. "Whatever it is, Y/N. I’m sure you’re worth it." When you shake your head in a negative way, it doesn’t seem to impress her. "Let me decide?" adds Alexia.

The seconds that pass while your brain turns a thousand an hour are torture for Alexia, but for you too. You know perfectly well that Alexia will leave when she understands. But the blonde adds a "Please" begging and you can no longer stand up to her.

So you finally accept, gently opening the door of your apartment to invite Alexia to enter. From your point of view, your apartment isn't exceptional, but you surprise the captain to look around in an intriguing way. However, this is not where she will understand what keeps you in many things in your life.

Without really thinking about your gesture, you take her hand to take her upstairs and open the door of a room. And the least we can say is that Alexia didn't expect that to be in front of her.

A children’s room in beige and sky blue colors in which there is the complete necessary for a baby. A changing table, a wardrobe, pictures of animals and a cradle with a mobile installed above. The cradle is occupied, Alexia realizes it quickly. She looks at you to ask your permission to approach and you smile at her to confirm that she can do so.

You will never forget the first time Alexia laid eyes on your son. A mixture of wonder and tenderness that takes your breath away. Deeply asleep in his bed, unlike the previous three nights, his stuffed rabbit tight against his face and thumb in the mouth, your baby seems particularly relaxed. Alexia spends long seconds looking at him before shifting her attention to you.

For your part, you didn't leave her sight for a single second, regretting not being able to read her thoughts. You signal her to follow you outside the room with a nod and Alexia obeys without being asked.

Back in the living room, you feel like you’re hearing her brain scrambling.

"I guess you have questions?"

Alexia sat in front of you on one of your sofas and looked at you thoughtfully for a few moments. Her fingers mechanically caress her lower lip, which you’ve noticed she does when what she thinks is intense.

"You have a child"

"Yes"

"And you’re married?"

You’re just shaking your head negatively this time.

"In a relationship?"

"Nope"

"I don't understand"

You sigh softly and let yourself go against the back of the sofa on which you were installed on the edge so that you can better observe Alexia. The situation is complicated and that’s partly why you didn’t tell anyone.

"His father left as soon as he learned of the pregnancy. It was not planned at all and my former club agreed to mask my pregnancy with an injury. My contract was coming to an end and it was the deal we made. I was thinking about quitting my career after giving birth, but Barcelona contacted me to offer me a contract before the summer. I refused without explaining why and they insisted" you explain, slightly frowned. You still don’t understand their interest. "So I finally told them the truth. The leaders and Jonatan are aware and they offered to help me rather than give up"

Alexia remains silent throughout your explanation but a small smile is drawn and accentuated as your story. You deduce that it's because of the behavior of her club who is in line with her own personal values, until she resumes speaking.

"Well thanks for sharing this with me, but that’s not what I don’t understand" she said without masking her amusement, before getting up to sit next to you. You follow her with your eyes, in turn a little lost. "What I don’t understand is why you think the fact that you have a child would stop me from being interested in you"

So this one, you didn't expect it. You remain frozen on your sofa, blinking at her.

"Well… I barely have time to come train with you, I can never join you for evenings… How could I have time for you?"

"Is it now that I remind you that I am the most homebody of the team and that I am called Grandma because I go to bed early?"

You smile softly as you hear her answer punctuated by a touch of humor. Her amused smile increases your own fun and you feel a heat wave spread throughout your body as she mixes her fingers with yours.

"What’s his name?"

"Romeo" you answer

"It's cute" she smiles before resuming speaking. "But I'm sure we can make it work. I don't mind if our dates are in your house and I can still pass time with you when your son is here... If you're ok with that of course"

When she sees you bite your lips, Alexia take both of your hand in hers, searching for your eyes.

"I really like you and I don't think that your son will make things complicated. I can't wait to meet him. I'm serious with it, if you let me in, I won't let you down. Never."

"Just kiss me again."

Alexia looks shocked for two seconds, before leaning in and obliged. People always talk about the first kiss, the sensations it gives. But you find that the second one is underestimated too much. That of the confirmation. The second kiss Alexia offers you is as tender and delicate as the first, without the fear of being pushed back. Which you obviously don’t do this time, even shyly sliding a hand on his neck to prolong your exchange.

This lasts a few minutes, before baby crying sounds upstairs, interrupting your moment.

"I hope you’re ready, because it’s only the beginning" you smile maliciously against his lips.

********

alexiaputellas

liked by ingrid_engen, yourinstagram, ona.batlle, marialeonn16 and 260 202 others people.

alexiaputellas We fell in love in October 🤍🎶

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YourInstagram ❤️

irene.paredes amo a ambos

fan1 Who's hand is it? ↳ fan3 it's me don't worry ↳ fan5 I feel like it's Y/N, they seems really close in the lasts after games ↳ fan6 she put an heart in the comment section too ↳ fan7 So is Mapi ↳ fan5 Mapi is with Ingrid, don't be stupid ↳ marialeonn16 Yeah, don't be stupid

fan2 I thought she was single?!

fan4 Alexia you naughty secret girl

yourinstagram

liked by alexiaputellas, lucybronze, janafernandez, __cata13 and 250 197 others people.

yourinstagram You look so pretty and I love this view 🎶❤️

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marialeonn16 please send thanks to your photographer ↳ alexiaputellas muchas gracias Mapi ↳ fan1 OMG WAIT WHAT ↳ fan3 I TOLD YOU I FUCKING TOLD YOU FDKSFHJAFKJAL

alexiaputellas 🤍🤍🤍

fan4 Not Y/N and Alexia breaking the Internet

ona.batlle ❤️

yourinstagram and alexiaputellas

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yourinstagram The loves of my life 💙❤️

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alexiaputellas te amo mucho 🥹🤍 liked by you

ingrid_engen 🫶❤️

elialexiaalba mis corazones

alexiaputellas

liked by yourinstagram, claudia.pina, ona.batlle, marialeonn16, lucybronze, __cata13 and 473 154 others people.

alexiaputellas Ready to watch Mami and Mama tonight ⚽👀

yourinstagram 💙❤️

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jenni.hermoso he's growing up so fast 😭

marialeonn16 remember me to offer him a Maria Leon jersey for his birthday ↳ alexiaputellas He won't wear it ↳ marialeonn16 of course he will, I'm her favorite ↳ lucybronze We all know that it's Ingrid

______________________________________________________________

For real it was in my draft for so long because I wasn't able to find a name for this baby 😭

#woso x reader #woso imagine #alexia putellas #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader

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cherry-leclerc · 3 months

Text

back to you ☆ cs55

genre: fluff, oldmoney!reader, strangers to lovers

word count: 3.1k

Fixated from the moment he first saw you, Carlos stays missing someone whom he never even properly met. But that all seems to change one night when you unexpectedly show up to a business dinner.

req!... i'm such a liar lmaooo (iykyk). hope you enjoy, my lil anons :) hope this heals some of the heartbreak we all endured today !!(*bashes head against keyboard*)

It almost seemed like you had something up your sleeve, a tactic to retrieve all of his attention away from the camera shoved right in front of him - media duties.

“Hello guys, just wanted to come on here to say that I think we gave it all we could during today’s race but there is definitely always room for improvement…” Blah, blah, blah.

He can’t quite figure out what he’s saying because his brown eyes are attached to the pretty girl walking right in front of him. Not behind him, trying to catch up. Not besides him, begging for a photo. Nope, right in front of him as if you could care less that you have one of the most popular drivers to ever exist almost chasing after you.

He could hear you mumbling about God knows what to the girl walking besides you. The Spaniard feels like a total creep when it comes to him becoming more alert to possibly catch your name. As you were saying? The media team manager stares back expectantly once Carlos blanks out. Though it wasn’t that unusual.

The 29 year old flickers his gaze back to the camera and then back to where you were, only except, you’re gone. Out of sight and his heart stops for a nanosecond.

“Onto the next week. Vamos.”

“So then, you have your upcoming shoot for the new fireproofs, testing, stimulator - if we have time, interview at…”

Carlos tunes out as he blinks at the never ending list as if it were just another Monday. Charles nods attentively, though he also looks far too uninterested. They were exhausted.

“And dinner tonight to meet our new sponsors.”

“Another one?” Charles asks, a slight crack in voice as he tries to pretend he wasn’t at all annoyed. “We just had one last night.”

Maria musters up a stern look. “Yes, again. They’re a lovely family, so we want to impress them with two well-behaved drivers.” The Ferrari boys swallow their laughter as they nod their heads. Got it.

It takes all of Carlos’ remaining willpower to get ready for dinner that night. On the way to the small Italian restaurant, he second guesses even showing up. He could fake a fever. A sore throat. Shaking his head, he curses as he steps out of his custom Ferrari.

“Oh good, I thought it was just going to be me,” Charles jokes as soon as he spots the Spaniard. Carlos chuckles before greeting the team. About 10 minutes go by before the Monegasque grows impatient as a child. I could have finished watching my movie.

“Shut up,” Fred murmurs before abruptly standing up from his seat. “Ah! È così bello rivedere finalmente te e la tua famiglia!” Choking on his champagne, Charles scrunches his nose before flying up and introducing himself. Carlos bites back a smile as he follows his lead.

And there he sees you, standing elegantly with a silk dress that looks as soft as your skin. You’re smiling sweetly at everyone, stepping in to not just shake their hands, but also go in for a small hug. Your mother and father repeat the same action, though they later focus all of their attention on Fred and Maria.

The Monegasque kicks his teammate’s shin. Carlos winces as he shoots fiery daggers. “We hit the jackpot.”

“What?”

Charles' shoulders drop theatrically. “Are you kidding me? Are we looking at the same girl right now or are you just blind?”

But he did see you, and he never quite forgot about you since that day. He could feel the tips of his ear burn bright red as you made your way over to him and his teammate. Charles, so nice to meet you, the green eyed boy beams before going in for a hug. You smile from ear to ear.

“Nice to meet you, too! I must admit; I’m a little starstruck right now.” Charles blushes fast as he stutters his way around such a compliment, even if he’s received thousands of the same one before. “Ah, this is Carlos.”

“Hello,” he feels himself saying. “Carlos, nice to meet you.” As soon as you look up at him, his breath hitches and fears you might feel his sweaty palms flourishing against your soft ones. And if you do, you choose to ignore it as you share a small smile, the kind you share when you see someone after 15 years.

The kind that seems forced.

“Ditto.”

With one last glance, you excuse yourself before making your way over to where your parents and Fred chatter about upcoming plans. Carlos blinks. “Wow. No hug,” Charles points out. “That’s weird. She was basically giving them out for free.”

“Be quiet.”

The remainder of the night you kept to yourself, occasionally inputting your own opinion with a polite smile drawn onto your fruit punch lips. Very well mannered, Fred would approve as you would bow your head with shyness. Carlos quirked a brow of curiosity.

He wondered what he might’ve done wrong. Had he been too forward? Cold? Often, his parents would claim he could be like that sometimes, so maybe? He wasn’t clinging onto the fact that he was the only one who didn’t receive a warm greeting from you, but he was left with questions.

“E tu, tesoro?”

“What about me?” you repeat, hair fanning along your face like a shiny curtain. Maria chuckles. How do you feel about being a part of this new chapter? You think about it for a second before settling with the safest answer. “Very proud, there’s nothing better than tying links with such a superior team.” Fred roars with genuine laughter as he pats your father’s shoulder. Smart girl.

“Why fine jewelry?”

“Pardon?”

The inquiry was directed towards your parents - who would clearly have the answer - but his eyes were trained on you, leaving you to fend for yourself. Lips part slowly as you connect with Carlos’ intense attention. “I’m curious, that’s all. I’m delighted we have you as our sponsors, but I was just wondering what made you dive into the business? Must be hard.”

Squinting your eyes, you click your tongue. It’s in our blood, your father’s voice cuts your train of thought. It’s what we do, what we love. But his warm gaze sticks to you like hot glue. You clear your throat before returning to your wide smile.

“I think it’s safe to say that diamonds are beautiful. They are scarily so crystal clear that for a moment one might search for a trace of color. And then they do come in other colors, so it’s really no problem,” you say, soft chuckles circling the table. “But I believe it’s also safe to say that we don’t often think about how they got here, shining around many ring fingers.” Your mother approves as she shows her mind-blowing diamond cut.

“Miners are the answer. They work hard - get their hands dirty - because they know that while it may not be easy to find such precious things…” His eyes roam your lips before dancing back up to your orbs. “It’s very well worth it.” Taking a sip from your glass of wine, you raise a brow. “That’s why.”

“It doesn’t even feel that tough to wear these pieces,” Charles squeaks as he slips on a white gold bracelet around his wrist. “They’re breathtaking.”

Clapping, you squeal at his words. For a moment, Carlos thinks about punching his teammate for getting to see your good side. They’re great, thank you again. You just tip your head towards him to confirm you heard, and slide away. Carlos sighs.

“This is ridiculous. She can’t even look at me.” The Spaniard bites his cheek. “Do you think she hates me?”

“For doing what?” Charles asks, face pinched with confusion. Carlos huffs, arms flying up.

“I have no idea!”

“Well…I don’t think so, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask, right?”

“No.” He groans. “Can you picture how awkward that would be? There’s no way.”

“Suit yourself.”

Pouting, the brown eyed boy zigzags his way into the studio, mentally preparing himself for hours of blinding lights. “Buongiorno, Carlos!” Spotting your father with his arms wrapped around his wife, he walks over with a tired smile. How are you guys? “We’re fine, son, thank you for asking. Tell me, are you excited for this weekend?” He instantly stands up straighter.

“I am. The Tifosi are always great to be around. Gets hectic, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“I can imagine. My wife and daughter are always amped up when it’s finally Monza’s turn.” He hums, almost as if he’s reminiscing. “Tell you, my baby would beg for us to take her to cheer on her favorite drivers. It’s kind of a full circle moment so don’t mind if my wife gets emotional.”

“Stop,” your mother sniffles as she shares a grimace. Told you, your father mouths. Carlos laughs.

“I completely get it, it must mean a lot to all three of you. Maybe that’s what makes this partnership work all the more.” Your fathers winks, large fingers wagging over at the Spaniard. Working over time. I respect it.

“I see why my daughter likes you.”

Carlos halts. “Sorry?”

The older man pants, seeming comedically defeated. “Are you kidding me? She adores you! You've been her favorite driver since you joined Formula 1.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Her love towards the sport had a huge impact on us to join as sponsors, but to be fair, we probably still would have done it. Like I said, it holds a special place in our hearts.”

“Buongiorno,” your soft voice echoes, skipping happily to greet the Ferrari team. Everyone’s energy quickly picks up as you flow with such easiness, skirt wrapping around your waist, making you seem like the only flower in an empty garden. Talk to you in a bit, you cheer as you make your way up to your parents. You stop dead in your tracks as soon as you spot the grumpy brunette. Like always, he can physically see you create a wall around yourself, keeping you from him. He felt like the Beast drooling over the rose inside the glass. “Good morning, Carlos. Logo looks good,” you hum, dark red pedicure pointing at your last name printed onto his fireproof. “Can’t wait to see how it looks on Charles.”

His jaw ticks. “Why don’t I call him then?”

“That would be lovely.”

He’s jealous. Of course he fucking is. He might have found out your whole act is a facade but that didn’t stop him from feeling this way. He could have been your favorite at one point, but what about now? It sure as hell didn’t seem like it.

“She wants to see you.”

The Monegasque furrows his brows. Who? But as soon as he notices his teammates' sour face, he registers the reason for his bad mood. “Stop pouting. You look like you just sucked on a lemon.” Carlos shoots a deadpan expression. “This has gone too far. It’s obviously bothering you.”

“What? You nagging?”

“Okay, ouch.” The green eyed boy takes a small step towards the Spaniard. “You don’t like it that she’s ignoring you because you like her.”

Carlos jumps off the couch. “I do not!” Charles hums.

“Oh shit, good, then I could ask her out.” He beams. “I wouldn’t want things to get weird between us.” Carlos' heart almost jumps out of his chest as he grows nauseous at the thought of you saying yes. He continues. “I’m telling you; I have a good feeling.” The brown eyed boy clenches his jaw. “It’s like this - I could see myself marrying her, having a baby heiress-”

“Okay fine, I like her!” He pants. “She drives me so fucking crazy. Whether she looks my way or not, she makes my head spin. Ever since I saw her at the Canada GP, she’s been imprinted into my brain like a lecture I’ve been told over and over, time and time again. It makes me sick that she seems to almost get sad when she’s around me. The way she can never look at me the way I’ve always looked at her. And I’m…” He looks down at his race boots. “I’m too afraid of ruining something that I don’t even have a chance at.”

The Monegasque pats him on the shoulder, lips stretched out into a teasing smirk. “Now, was it that hard to admit your feelings?”

It was that hard to admit his feelings. He thought about it for the first time since he met you. Confess everything that’s been locked away deep inside of him; claim his feelings like some kind of gold medal. But then he saw you radiating pure perfection and he would turn the other way. You hated him, he’s sure.

“Alright Carlos, push, now push.”

He could taste it - sweet victory that he badly craved. If he played his cards right then he could get second place, which was pretty good in comparison to past results.

The Spaniard tries to not feel too upset about coming in third and waves up at the Tifosi who let out blood curdling screams. Pride rushes through his veins as he walks onto the podium, he didn’t even mind all the attention. Especially the kind you were gifting him with.

The way you smile so big that your perfect teeth shine up at him, eyes crinkling like a love letter. Cheekbones slightly pink from cheering so loud but also from the bright sun. He swore he was on some kind of drug.

Making his way back into the motorhome after all the interviews, he bumps into you and your parents. “Like it?” he asks as he displays his trophy.

“Definitely,” your father beams. “You deserve it, son, enjoy it.” After a few more affirmations, he and your mother walk away. Brown orbs find your own.

“Have fun?” He tries to ease his deep voice, to appear more outgoing, to not scare you away. And yet, you nod, looking down.

“He’s right. You totally deserve it.” And for what seems like the first time, you bless him with your warm stare. “Felicidades, Carlos.” Pink paints his cheeks. You speak Spanish? Your eyes grow wide as you feverishly shake your head. “I-I- I don’t, but I’ve picked up on a few things here and there…”

“From me.” He tilts his head. “You actually pay attention to me.”

You can’t help stutter like a broken record. “Of course-e, I ha-ave ears.” You show them off like a weak justification. “See?” you squeak. Playing with the hem of your dress - that had him swallowing a string of moans the moment you walked into the garage that morning - you slowly started backing away. “I should go now…” You point towards the sliding doors. “See you later?”

But he knew there would be no later. Fuck, this was the most you’ve spoken to him since, well, ever. He wouldn’t let that slip away so easily. Even if his heart got bruised along the way.

“Did I do something for you to hate me?”

Your brows narrow like a little kid. “You think I hate you?”

“It’s okay if you do, I suppose, but I’m just lost as to where that happened? Did I-”

“I don’t hate you,” you softly speak up, eyes shut in disbelief that you’ve made him feel that way. You blink back at him. “I promise you, you’ve done nothing wrong.” Okay, he confirms.

“Why can’t you talk to me then like you do with everybody else? Why can’t you even spare me a passing glance?”

His voice sounds desperate now, he knows it, but he was desperate. Now you were embarrassed that he continues to bring up more and more of your poor behavior - but it was never intentional. You twirl a strand of your hair before releasing it.

“You intimidate me.”

The Spaniard squeezed his fist around the trophy. For a moment, he thought he would dent the steel. Your stomach drops at the sight and he feels guilty for proving you right. He lets out a shaky breath.

“I’m not a bad guy, y’know? I’m sure it may seem like it, but…” He licks his lips. “I’m not.”

Doe eyes flutter like butterfly wings. “I believe you, Carlos.”

“Good. Now, would you please tell me why you always escape when I’m around?” You softly curse as you pinch your hand for a second.

“I wasn’t lying; you do intimidate me. But not in the way you might think.” Like an angel, you make your way closer. “You’re my favorite driver, you know that?” The Spaniard’s brown eyes grow wide. You laugh. “Ever since you-”

“Joined Formula 1.”

Your jaw drops. “My father ratted me out?” Panicking, you pace the room back and forth. You could only look at him for a couple of seconds before planting your stare at anywhere else that isn’t him. “I told him not to say anything! Oh God.” You let out a maniatic chuckle. “I swear it’s just a tiny crush, it’s not even that deep - I’ll get over it!”

Now it’s his turn to geek out. “You have a crush on me?” Crap, you groan, biting down on your nail. He didn’t mention that part, did he? Brown strands of hair shake back and forth as you sigh.

“Forget I said anything, I am so sorry for making things awkward-”

“I’ve seen you before.” What? The 29 year old winces. “At the Canada GP. You were walking with a friend.” Synthia, you whisper to yourself. “I was being filmed for feedback on the race and you were about 5 steps in front of me.” You counted? “I said about - and for months, you were all I could think about. You sort of stuck to me like a nostalgic scent. I don’t know why I felt the need to talk to you, I mean, it’s never happened to me before. I looked away for a second and you were gone.” He shares a lopsided smile. “Then I saw you again.”

“And I blocked you out.” You bite your lip. “Shit, Carlos…I had no idea you felt this way.” He shrugs.

“It’s my fault. I never told you.” Still, you try to reason but he only brushes you off. “It’s not your fault.”

“But it is,” you whimper. “I acted like a complete snob and belittled you.” Your heart breaks at the image. “And you’re telling me it’s been mutual all along?”

“Looks like it. This is good though.” How? The brunette winks as he pulls you in. “Because now we do know and I can take you out sometime?” You quirk a brow.

“It works just like that?”

He hums, comfortable with the two trophies pressed up against him. “Only if you want it to be like that.” You can practically hear your crazy heartbeat with the way he’s looking down at you - as if he’s just discovered a previously nonexisting star. With soft hands pressed onto his suit, your eyes twinkle.

“Just like that, then.”

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youtellmeman · 3 months

Note

Hello ma’am 😈 I am here to request 😈 I’m thinking neteyam and reader are like enemies😡 they do not like each other okay but somewhere somehow they accidentally perform tsaheylu with each other and then they bang 😦

Yuh first request done-zo I really enjoyed writing this so i hope you like it.

Neteyam Sully x Fem!Na'vi!reader

Rated R

includes- smut, ma as a pet name, baby as a pet name, fingering, p in v, dirty talk, fem genitailia, accidental tsaheylu

In this tsaheylu is only explicitly erotic the first time around and it can be used to simply better understand what your mate is thinking/feeling.

Na'vi word translations

tiwan- love, wiya- damn, tewng- loincloth, knalu- fuck, Uvang- damn, skxwang- moron,imu’ta- bitch

italics= spoken in na'vi

Hating Neteyam, had been easy. After all it was all you'd ever known when it came to the blue boy. You’d always seen him as so, so irritating.

He always thought he knew better, better than his siblings, better than the other kids in the village, and better than you. That being eldest son to the Olo’eyktan made him so much smarter than those his age and unfortunately it seemed that trait would follow him to his grave as even now, after being accepted into the clan as an adult,he held himself to be so all knowing.

“What are you doing out here?” the voice came from behind you, his voice. “This area of the forest is dangerous, you should have someone with you.”

“Why, because I am incapable of taking care of myself?” It's a loaded question,but you can't help the way he is so quick to get under your skin. Whipping around to meet his citron eyes, raising a brow when you hear him scoff to himself.

“Why must you make everything into conflict?”

“Why must you be an imu’ta who refuses to let me live in peace.” I bite back and the air between us grows tense, eyes boring into eachothers waiting for one of us to break.

“Damn it, you are so difficult for what? I am simply looking out for you, it is dangerous, we both know this.” he huffs angrily out his nose and his tail thumbs against the ground with his growing anger.

“Have you considered that perhaps I don’t need anyone looking out for me? Especially not you, now leave me be and let me hunt in peace.” You roll your eyes and without waiting for a response you start to walk. Slinging your bow over your shoulder as you search for a new, quiet place to hunt.

“How dare you turn your back to me!” You can hear his steps speeding up after you resulting in your pace speeding as well until he manages to catch you. His slender fingers wrapping around your wrist spinning you face him. “You dare disrespect the future-”

“Future! You said it yourself!” You cut him off hissing the words at him angrily, “You hold no authority over me Neteyam so cease this useless display of power. Power that you do not have.” You spit. And maybe if you’d been less focused on the current shouting match you were having you would’ve noticed the small hand wrapping around your queue.

“Regardless of whatever you may think I am owed respect!” He snarls back and before you can you feel a sudden rush through your system, something so new yet familiar and immediately your eyes leave Neteyams face to focus on finding what's caused this surge of energy and what you can only describe as feeling. You find it immediately, honing in the little blue hand wrapped around your queue, your queue that was currently connected to, to…

“Tuktirey!” It's Neteyams voice that cuts through the silence though you can barely hear him,you can barely hear him with the wave of shock that flows through your body clogging your ears like water.

You can tell he's scolding her for a minute or two before she's shooed away, leaving you two alone still connected and you can feel it starting to ebb its way to the surface, the lust. Pupils blown wide as you find Neteyams eyes once more.

You can't find the words to ask why in the world Tuk would think that it’d be okay to connecther brother and yourself. All you can do is search his face and body for any sign he’s feeling what you are, and boy do you find it. Whether it be the rapid rise and fall of his chest or the tent in his tewng growing by the second.

Opening your mouth trying to find the words but you fail once more, or really you're cut off by the feeling of lips against yours as his hand finds its way to the base of your neck holding you close while the other pulls you in by the waist. And as his hips slot themselves so perfectly against yours you try to find some sliver of restraint, a tiny ounce of strength that will let you rip yourself away from him. You come up empty handed.

Hands finding their way to his hair pulling at the roots as you press him closer, pulling a heavenly groan from his lips.You find yourself pulling him back with you until your back meets tree, pulling back for a ragged breath.

“Holy mother.” You huff out in between breaths, Neteyam on the other hand has let his mouth wander from your jaw to neck, sucking dark purple marks onto the sensitive skin about your collar bone intermittently letting his fangs drag against the new purple markings, before coming back up. Neteyam kisses like he wants to consume you completely, it's a mess of teeth and spit as you both battle for dominance, it’s when he bites at your bottom lip that you give up on grasping at the reins letting him take complete control.

As your mouths clash Neteyam gets busy with his hands pulling the knot at the side of your loincloth before hoisting one of your legs up into his hip. Letting the arm that's not holding your leg slide between your bodies, finger sliding down your slick dampened lips, moving between tracing around your clit to moving downward to tease at your fluttering entrance. He does this a few times before you grow tired of his teasing. Pulling back to let your head rest on the bark of the tree.

“Quit it and do something, or are you just as incapable of pleasing a woman as you are at leaving me alo- ohh!” A surprised moan escapes your lips before you can finish the taunt.

“Wiya, you talk a lot.” The smug look that covers his face would have you rolling your eyes if you weren’t so focused on trying to keep them open enough to see anything at all. The annoying bastard had slipped in a finger while you were mouthing off, curling it to hit that spongy sweet spot within while letting his thumb rub lazy circles on your bud. “If I knew all it’d take to shut you up would be to stick a finger in you I woulda done it long ago.” He’s the one taunting now.

“Shut up you skxwang- hah- For you to think I would’ve ever let you touch me like this before. You clearly don’t know everything you claim.” You bite back best you can, and while you know your words hardly have any merit while you’re literally humping the palm of his land looking for more.

“Such a smart fucking mouth, lets see how that changes after I have you cumming around my fingers, hmm?” He leans close while growling out his retort, sliding in another finger as he speaks. And god, it should be criminal that it's him making you feel so incredibly good.

“Fuck Neteyam.” You whimper out and his fingers speed up their unrelenting attack, consistently hitting that sweet spot and thumb moving so quickly against that bundle of nerves it has your knees ready to buckle. “Shit, I-I need more.” You're whining against his neck now, head resting against his shoulder as he continues his assault and you can feel his chest rumble with the groan that leaves his lips.

“You want my cock baby? You want it real bad?” You can only imagine the pride on his face , but none of that matters right now, not when you really really do. So all you can do is nod as moans and groans slip from your lips at the thought.

“No, need to hear you say it. You had so much to say earlier ma , what happened?” It’s the smugness in his voice that leads you to fight against what he wants from you.

“Fuck you.” It’s practically a pant as you pull your head back from the crevice of his neck and rest it against the tree that has you sandwiched between Neteyam. Peering at him from your lidded eyes.

“Tsk tsk, not what I asked for.” He shakes his head and the small grin he wears is nothing but predatory. “You want to cum by my hands, you're gonna do what I say. " The pace he's picked up at the point is unforgiving, his fingers barely even thrust the tips simply rubbing against your most sensitive spot in a way that has you seeing stars and you can feel the coil in your stomach growing dangerously taut. But it's like he can see it on your face that you're growing close, and unfortunately he stands true to his words because as soon as you feel yourself about to teeter over the edge he stops. Leaving you withering against him.

“Nete-”

“Say it.” There's no room for negotiation in his tone, “Say it or you don’t get to cum and if you dont cum on my fingers first you sure as hell aren't getting my cock.”

It's almost pathetic how quick your resolve crumbles.

“I want you, please. Neteyam I want you please.”

“Say you need it.” Now he's just being mean cause he can.

“Fucking hell, need your cock so bad Neteyam, please.” Your breathing is ragged as you practically beg and he can hear the aggravation behind your voice.

“Not so hard is it, Tiyawn?” He quips as his fingers start to move again, thumb finding your clit as his index and middle continue the assault on the inside. And with you being so close prior it doesn’t take nearly anytime at all before your ether again, on the edge of complete euphoria just needing one last push. Push coming in the form of the third finger that ends up slamming into you, filling you up so completely and sending you crashing into waves of ecstasy. Hands finding his shoulders, nails leaving crescent marks in the blade of it as you ride your orgasm. Neteyam helps you through it, paying attention to your complete reaction while his fingered pump inside of you.

Sliding out once he's sure you’ve enjoyed the best of it,dropping your hip to your side, giving you one more openmouthed kiss before spinning you around leaving you to brace yourself on the tree that was once digging into your back. His hand finds the small of your back pushing you to be bent, arching subconsciously, readying yourself for what's to come.

You look over your shoulder just in time to see him rip the string of his tewng in a rush to move it out the way, letting his length spring up and hit his stomach.

To say that Neteyam was well endowed would be an understatement, youd heard rumors before but holy mother they didn’t do him justice. He made eye contact with you as he grabbed himself by the base getting ready to line himself up with your core.

“Like what you see?” And of course he’s cocky about this too. Neteyam raises a playful eyebrow.

“Thought you'd be bigger.” It's a lie, but you can't let his ego go unchecked. Though it doesn't seem too much as he simply sucks his teeth in response, letting a toothy grin spread across his face.

“Mhm, that’s why I can see you clenching at the sight of it then?” He retorts, still smiling as he moves, letting his tip slide between your lips, catching at your entrance. A move that has both of you shuddering in anticipation.

“Neteyam!” you whine out tired of waiting, pushing your ass back with a wiggle in anticipation and to hopefully get him to act sooner.

“Fuck, yeah okay i'm coming.” You can hear him mutter behind you. Properly lining himself this time before pushing in slowly, the girth of his head alone has you gasping for air. He’s slow to work himself in, not wanting to let his desperation for release lead to you being hurt. Eventually however he does bottom out and once he does the both of you let out sighs of relief. He gives you a moment to adjust before beginning to move, pulling back to grind back into you.

Usually this soft caring pace would leave you purring, but this is Neteyam and the fact that he just spent his time finger fucking you so good you see stars just to treat you like glass has you grinding your teeth in want for more.

“More.” You demand throwing a lust filled glare over your shoulder.

“Uvang, you feel so tight around me.” You're not even sure Neteyam heard you, his brows are pulled together and eyes scrunched in pleasure.

“Knalu Neteyam, harder!” You snap, punctuating your sentence by pushing back onto his cock which seems to break his trance.

“Eywa, why can't you let me enjoy this in peace?” His nostrils flare and eyes snap open boring into your own. Leaning forward he braces holds you by your shoulders. Sliding out till only his head is left inside of you before slamming back into you with enough strength to bruise. Switching from his heart shatteringly slow movement to thrusts that could shake Pandora itself. Thrusts that leave you gasping for air that's being knocked out of your lungs with every slam of his hips into yours.

“Oh Eywa! Neteyam fuck, yes!” Your moans are practically prayers as they fill the air around you, Not that he's being any quieter than you are. Moaning and groaning as he leans down to press wet kisses to your spine.

“Shit you feel so good Ma, fucking hell. Its like you were made to be wrapped around my cock, my perfect fucking pussy for the taking ain’t that right. ‘M gonna ruin you baby, mold this cunt to my cock. No one else could make you feel this good right Ma, c'mon tell me i'm right.” It’s hard to make out most of his rambles as he ruts into you like something feral, but you manage nonetheless.

“Fuck, yes Neteyam no one’s as good as you. No one could make me feel- oh my- feel half as good as you, shit!” You say back telling him whatever he wants to hear, telling him the truth. And it has him speeding up at which point you thought was impossible as he continues to ramble on and on about how good you feel around him against the skin of your back. One of his hands manage to find their way around your waist and to your clit, rubbing tight circles while his noises grow more animalistic by the minute and it has you fluttering around him causing him to twitch within you. The both of your peaks growing increasingly closer.

“I'm gonna cum, Net, fuck dont stop!” you warn him of your upcoming release and you can feel the way the knowledge fuels him, his grip on your shoulder tightening as he drills into you with fervor.

“Cum for me tiwan, wanna feel you cum around me, cmon.” He urges you on and soon enough it comes. Surginging through you like electricity, punctuated by a high pitched whine as your legs tremble. Neteyam fucking you through it fighting to hold off his own upcoming orgasm in lew of making sure you can enjoy yours to the fullest and soon enough you start to come down, the way you clench becoming softer and more spaced out as you begin to take deep breaths in order to ground yourself.

It only takes a few more pumps before the euphoria is hitting him like a splash of cold water and he’s quick to pull out and spill his seed on the curve of your ass and back, groaning your name slowly as he works his way through it.

Eventually you both restore enough air in your lungs to disconnect yourselves and get cleaned up. Finding a small and unoccupied pond to wash his essence of yourself along with the sweat you'd worked up along the way before slipping your clothes back on and helping him repair the string of his loincloth well enough that it would not fall off on his trek through the village.

Still once you're both clothed you both take a few moments to be together and fully grasp the fact of what this connection means for the both of you. It's then that you finally find the words you’d lost earlier.

“Why did tuk do it? Why did she connect us?” You ask, your eyes finding his in confusion.

“Our parents.” He starts, “ Sometimes they fight and sometimes when they do they perform tsaheylu. In order to better understand what the other is feeling. She thought it would help us ‘get along’” he finishes explaining and you can't help but laugh at the childlike innocence of it all.

“How sweet in theory I suppose.” You smile up at him stifling a few laughs.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “Remind me to thank her when we get back.” At that you roll your eyes and smack him in the shoulder. “Hey!”

——————

Let me know what you think

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#avatar neteyam #neteyam #neteyam headcanons #awow neteyam #neteyam hc #neteyam x reader #neteyam atwow #neteyam avatar #neteyam smut #neteyam awow #avatar smut #avatar x reader #avatar na'vi #awow #awow imagines #awow smut #awow x reader #way of water #neteyam sully

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dont-touch-the-phlebotinum · 11 months

Text

The first time Eddie calls Wayne 'Dad' he's three years old. He's been staying at Wayne's for a few days now; dropped off by his parents without warning and with the vague promise that they'd be back for him soon, already screaming at each other before they're back in the car and speeding off out of sight. Wayne doesn't even have a change of clothes for him, doesn't have any toys or books or much of an idea how to take care of a toddler. Luckily the kid seems happy enough getting into every nook and cranny of the trailer, and toddling around watching Wayne clean up in Eddie's wake like a particularly rambunctious shadow.

Right now he's sat on the kitchen floor, one of Wayne's baseball caps hanging off his tiny head, bashing happily at the array of pots and pans he's dragged out of the cupboards. It's one hell of a racket, but after three days of this either Wayne's headache can't get any worse or he's starting to get used to Hurricane Eddie. Besides, it's good to see the boy having fun, unbothered by whatever chaos has been going on at home.

The crashing comes to a sudden stop, silence ringing through the trailer, and Wayne looks over to see Eddie swaying in place, blinking like he's having a hard time keeping his eyes open. The boy's like a puppy, Wayne's learning. Either he's bouncing off the walls or he's asleep, not a whole lot of in-between.

"You tired, kid?"

"No," says Eddie, even as his head droops and a yawn near bigger than he is shakes its way through him.

"Uh-huh. Come on, Charlie Watts; let's get you to bed."

Eddie lets Wayne scoop him up into his arms with only a half-hearted whinge in response. He doesn't even have the energy to fight off Wayne's attempts to brush his teeth and scrub away the grime Eddie somehow manages to accumulate over the course of a day, already drifting off against Wayne's shoulder as he carries Eddie down the hall and tucks him into bed.

"Night, Eddie."

"Goodnight, Dad," Eddie murmurs as Wayne's about to turn off the light.

He freezes in place. The hell's he supposed to say to that? Your dad's not here, kid; God only knows when he's coming back? There's no need to upset the boy. But there'll be hell to pay if Wayne's brother comes back for Eddie only to find out he's taken to calling Wayne 'Dad' instead.

Luckily for Wayne, Eddie's fast asleep before he can figure out what to say for the best.

He presses a kiss to Eddie's mop of curls, and closes the door behind him.

Eddie's nine years old now. He's still short, still so skinny he looks like he hasn't had a decent meal in his life, close to bald 'cause the kid can't go two weeks without catching lice, but he seems happier these days than he has in a good long while. That's all that matters to Wayne.

It's his first birthday since Wayne officially became Eddie's guardian – probably the first birthday anyone's ever given a shit, considering the way Eddie's eyes turn to saucers when Wayne hands him his gift.

"Holy shit!" Eddie says as he opens the case and pulls the acoustic guitar from inside. It's not much, just a beaten up old thing Wayne bought off one of the guys at work, but Eddie clutches it reverently, pulls it into his lap like he's amazed he's being allowed to touch it.

"Watch your language," scolds Wayne. He doesn't have the heart to be stern, though. Not when Eddie's staring down at the guitar as if it's the greatest thing he's ever seen.

He watches with a smile as Eddie plucks tentatively at the strings. Maybe he'll come to regret giving Eddie a way to make even more noise than usual, but it might at least manage to hold his focus, maybe even keep him still for more than five minutes at a time.

And God knows, after the past couple years the kid deserves something special.

"You like it?"

"Yeah! Thanks, Dad." Eddie's head snaps up, and his grin falters as he looks over at Wayne sat beside him. "Uncle Wayne, I mean," he says quickly. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it." He gives Eddie a gentle pat on the back. It's enough for the kid to brighten up again, his attention already back to his guitar, the moment forgotten. "Now how 'bout you take that to your room and start practicing while I fix us some breakfast?"

"Birthday pancakes?" says Eddie as he follows Wayne into the kitchen with a hopeful grin, still clutching the guitar against his chest.

"I don't remember promising birthday pancakes."

"I remember, old man."

"Who're you calling old, you little punk?" Wayne says, and shoos Eddie back out of the kitchen. "Go on, get out of here."

He watches Eddie bound down the hall to his bedroom, and after a moment the first clumsy notes fill the trailer.

When Eddie's fourteen Wayne gets a call from the sheriff's office, and he arrives at the station to find Eddie cuffed to one of the desks, sullen and stubborn and looking too much like Wayne's brother for comfort. It's not the first time Eddie's landed himself in trouble, but it is the first time the cops have been involved.

He just prays it'll be the last. Wayne's seen this story play out enough times to know how it usually ends.

When he catches sight of Wayne waiting for him, Eddie just rolls his eyes.

"I 'spose you're about to tell me it was all Jeff's idea," says Wayne once they've piled back into the truck and put the police station firmly in the rear-view. He's not expecting an answer, doesn't expect Eddie to grunt more than a few words at a time to him lately, but the awkward silence is still too alien for him to let it sit.

"It was my idea."

"So you're stealing cars now, huh?" He keeps his tone light, as if they're just talking about Eddie's latest obsession, like always. As if his newfound hobby isn't breaking into cars over in Loch Nora.

"I wasn't gonna steal–" Eddie starts, before he's clamping his mouth shut like don't talk to cops extends to Wayne as well now. He glares back out of the window.

"You know next time it happens the sheriff ain't gonna be so lenient."

"Thanks for the lecture, Dad." Eddie lets out a bitter laugh that can't quite mask the hurt behind it. "Oh, wait a sec…"

Wayne sighs. The subject of Eddie's dad has come up enough times these past few months they're gonna have to have a good long talk about him sooner or later. "That what this is about?"

"No."

"But he's been on your mind, right?"

He glances over at Eddie. He's slumped even lower in his seat, arms folded tight across his skinny chest, and determinedly not making eye contact.

"Trust me, kid, he ain't anything worth looking up to."

"Yeah, well what if I'm a screw up just like he is?"

"You're not."

Eddie scoffs. Wayne watches him until the light up ahead turns green.

"The way I see it," he says, "your life's 'bout to fork in two different directions. You keep on down this road, you end up either dead or in a cell right next to your old man's."

Eddie's quiet beside him, but Wayne can tell he's listening, can see the little furrow to his brow as he turns the words over in his mind.

"Or, you take all that pain and anger you got inside you, and you turn it into something worthwhile."

Finally, Eddie looks back at him. "Like what?"

"Don't have to be big. Don't have to be important. All that matters is it means something to you."

They slip back into silence for the rest of the drive, but it's a more comfortable kind this time, a thoughtful kind of silence. Wayne kills the engine and they climb out onto the dirt in front of the trailer.

"Uncle Wayne?" says Eddie, his voice small. He's still lingering by the truck when Wayne peers back at him.

"Yeah?"

"Sorry," he says. "For being an asshole."

"You're not an asshole, Ed. And you ain't about to turn into one. Not on my watch."

Eddie's mouth twitches. It's not a smile, but it isn't far off. "Promise?"

"Yeah, kid. I promise," says Wayne with a smile of his own, and he curls an arm around Eddie's shoulders, hugging him tight as he steers them inside.

At nineteen, Eddie's lying in a hospital bed.

Wayne's been sat at his bedside for God only knows how long at this point – the days have blurred into a steady stream of doctors and beeping machines, hours and minutes fallen to the wayside. The only time he leaves Eddie's side is when Eddie's friends come by to keep their own vigil.

They're all still waiting for him to wake up.

One hand clasping Eddie's, Wayne reads the paper to him to pass the time. He knows Eddie doesn't much care about what's happening out in the real world, and nor does Wayne right now, but any books of Eddie's are lost in whatever mess the quake left of their trailer, and Wayne needs something to keep his eyes from the angry red bruises circling Eddie's neck.

He looks like he's been strung up. The way the town has been baying for Eddie's blood, it wouldn't be much surprise. The rest of his injuries, though – well, no-one seems to have any explanation for those.

Maybe one day Eddie will be able to provide one himself.

There's a tiny noise above him, and Wayne's head snaps up to Eddie's face. He's watched every flutter of Eddie's eyelids, every twitch of his fingers, heart in his throat until the moment passes and Eddie sleeps on. But this time, Eddie stirs.

"Eddie?"

"Dad?"

He frowns with the effort of cracking his eyes open, struggling under the weight of his own body.

"It's all right," Wayne says. He brushes his thumb over Eddie's cheek, careful to avoid the stitches, and squeezes the hand tucked in his tighter. Eddie grips him back. "I'm right here."

Eddie's bleary eyes focus on Wayne, crinkling at the corners with the smile that spreads across his face. "Dad," he rasps again as tears spill down his cheeks.

Wayne's face is wet with his own as he presses a kiss to Eddie's forehead. "Welcome back, son."

#wayne is eddie's dad i don't make the rules #eddie munson #wayne munson #munson family feels #stranger things fic #stranger things #my writing

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darlingshane · 4 months

Text

Professor Castle

Frank Castle x F!Reader

Summary: Frank has a weakness and it's named after you. No matter how much he tries to push you away he always returns to the same point.

CW: 18+. Explicit, Smut, Angst, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Fingering, Making out, Professor/Student relationships, Age Gap, Reader is an undergrad student in her early 20s. [I know this is very problematic. Don't come at me. It's just fiction.]

Word Count: 2.8k // AO3 Link.

A/N: This was inspired by this picture of Jon in Origin. I couldn't write for that character in particular, so I thought Frank was the best choice for it, even if it's a lot OOC.

As you muster the courage to enter and confront Professor Castle, you observe him through the cracked door of his office. He looks as good as ever, freshly shaved, in one of his Bexley plaid shirts in white with blue plaid lines, and a dark tweed blazer on top. His hair has slightly curled from the humid weather. His glasses slip a little over the bridge of his nose when he looks down, and he pushes them back in place before tucking a folder in his leather case. You haven't seen him in a few days. Even when you submitted the form to drop his class you managed to leave it on his desk yesterday after he left home. And just early this morning before getting to campus you got an email from him from his uni account, formally denying your request to drop. You don't give a fuck about failing and having to take another course with a different teacher but after what he told you last weekend, you can't stay in his class any longer. It'd be like torture having to see him and not being able to be with him like you desire to.

Of course, you don't ever want to get him in trouble either, he has a lot more to lose than you. But if he doesn't want to see you anymore, then so don't you. So, after a moment of consideration you just clench your fist as hard as you can, set your jaw straight, and storm into the office without announcing yourself. The door slamming the door behind you is what alerts him of your presence. The loud sound makes his head snap up to look at you, standing as tall as you can.

“You can't force me to stay in your class.” You say firmly without raising your voice.

His brow knits behind the thin frame of his glasses as he processes your intrusion.

“No, I guess I can't force you. But I can't let you drop either. You missed the deadline. Unless you have a good excuse like a serious medical condition or emergency the school is not going to let you withdraw at this point. It's out of my hands.”

“Does dying of heartbreak count as a medical emergency?”

“Jesus Christ, you theater kids are really dramatic.”

“Hey, you're the one who told me to join a club.”

“Yeah, but I meant something else like uh… the debate team, the honor society, the newspaper, or the fucking model UN.”

“Well, I made my choice and so did you. I can't just keep showing up at your class and pretend that nothing happened. Can you just think of something? If I meant anything to you… just give me this, Frank.”

You never said his first name before on school grounds. It sounds like a curse word as it slips out of your mouth.

“There are only two months left. That's nothing. Are you telling me you're willing to throw all of that away for me?”

“Yes, because if I can't have you then I can't see you either.”

You catch when his Adam's apple anxiously goes up and down as you say that.

“This is all my fault. I should've never… I should've put a stop to it when I had the chance.”

“Frank—” You take a step closer to his desk, but he promptly holds a placating palm in the air to push you to a stop.

“Don't. Please. Don't throw away your future for me or for anyone for that matter. You're smart and young and strong enough to endure a few more classes. You'll be getting your bachelor's next year, sweetheart. After that… you won't even remember I was ever part of your life.”

“I won't ever forget. I'm begging you. Just let me go or take me back… but…” your frustration knots in your throat. “Stop pushing me away. I know you love me.”

“It doesn't matter if I do. We both have a lot to lose if they find out.”

“Nobody will. We'll be more careful… We could just start over somewhere else, just you and me.”

“Life is not a movie. It doesn't work like that. I know it feels like a matter of life or death right but when you're older—”

“Don't patronize me. I know what I feel. Just take me out of your class or don't. I won't show up either way.”

You turn around to leave the room at once but Frank quickly shuffles behind you and as you reach to grab the handle, he holds the door closed and secures the lock before your eyes.

“So help me God, you're gonna be the end of me, sweetheart.” His tone changes to an octave graver that sends a chill through your spine.

“What are you doing?” You turn around as he steps so awfully close you can capture the strong scent of his aftershave.

“You're going to stay in my class. Front row. Every Wednesday at 10. Then, you're going to ace your final in May. I don't ever wanna hear you again saying otherwise. Is that clear?” He states as a matter of fact, as if you had no choice but to comply with his demand.

“Why are you so convinced I will?”

You watch him up close as he takes off his glasses and lifts his opposite hand to frame your jaw. With conflicted thoughts he pushes your back against the wall, as his face leans to seize your mouth. Professor Castle slowly spells with his tongue all the secrets kept between you in just one beautiful kiss that leaves you breathless.

“Is that enough?” His head pulls back as he sets his glasses back over his eyes as you smooth the lapels of his blazer.

“I'm not sure,” you draw a breath and let the bookbag hanging on your shoulder fall to the floor. “I think I'm gonna need a bigger incentive.”

“There's never enough for you, huh?” he holds your jaw again and tilts your head to the side as he buries his mouth in the crook of your neck.

His lips hold some sort of spell that enchants your body with just a few nips on your skin. The tip of his tongue is laced with poison that intoxicates each and all of your senses as it juts out to leave a wet trace from your collarbone to the back of your ear before pulling back. His eyes turn darker behind the glass as he locks eyes with you. Your pulse picks up in your chest as he licks his lips and allows lust to take over. He watches his thumb trace the shape of your mouth before fiercely succumbing to the temptation of your lips once more, with feeling.

As your arms curl around his neck, his hands travel beneath the hem of your striped, knitted sweater to bask in the warmth of your skin. The sloppy sounds of your kisses sound like sin in this room. You should stop. He should too. But neither of you have enough strength to push the other away.

One of his hands stays pressed on your spine while the other travels down your denim skirt and slips underneath the hem. Hiking it up, his large palm shamelessly grabs your ass, molds your flesh to the shape of his fingers over your panties. Your skin quickly heats up and your mind swirls along the maddening rhythm of his tongue. He presses himself so hard against you, it feels like he's already fucking you, but it's the illusion of his fingers bluntly sliding between your legs and pressing over your opening, stirring a good moan out of you.

“Sh, sh…” he breaks the kiss and whispers a millimeter away from your mouth. “Gotta be quiet now, yeah?”

You simply nod, having his eyes gauging your expression changing as his hand viciously massages your pussy.

“Like that?” His lips pull up at the corners, and you mirror his expression as you softly pant.

“Fuck yeah.”

Then, you close your eyes and press your forehead to his shoulder, keeping your hands anchored to his arms as your juices stain the fabric of your underwear.

“You're dripping, sweetheart.” His voice echoes in your ear. “Is this what you want?”

He presses harder as your grip on him tightens.

“Yeah.”

For a second you think he's going to finish you right there but all of a sudden he stops.

“C'mere,” he locks your arms around his neck before lifting your ass in his hands without much effort. You tuck your legs around his hips as he takes turns around and walks toward the desk.

Keeping you secured in one arm, Frank blindly moves the stuff in the middle before carefully lowering you down on the wooden surface. While you lay on your back, he sits on his chair and brings your ass close to the edge. Instead of letting your legs dangle, he places your feet on each arm of his chair as he kisses one of your knees.

“God, you're so beautiful,” he mumbles against your skin as he rolls down the fabric of one of your thigh-high stockings to uncover your leg. He does the same with the other stocking before letting his lips get his reward.

The inside of your thigh leads a straight road down to hell. After last weekend, he promised himself he would never cross that line again, but he has a weakness, and it’s named after you. It's taken him through a dangerous path that puts everything he ever believed into question. He could lose his job and his reputation if someone were to cross the door to his office and find you spread like a meal ready to consume. It's lunchtime after all, and he can't think of anything better to feast on other than you. His lips trail that perdition-paved road on your thigh as his fingers softly brush the back of your leg. Your skin sticks out as you pull your knees further apart to make room for his face as it gets closer to your center. The corner of his glasses gently pokes the top of your thigh when he reaches that crucial point. You bite your lip and stare at the broken fixture on the ceiling and try to keep yourself from moaning when he pulls your panties to the side. He stretches the fabric as far as it goes, it makes a tearing sound, but it doesn't break. You couldn't care less if he rips them apart. It wouldn't be the first time either. He’s ruined two pairs already. Professor Castle has a wild side that only comes untamed when he’s with you. But this is different. He's never gone down on you right in his own office on campus like he's about to do. You both know the implications of that, but rules be damned right now. All that worry floats out of your head as his tongue makes first contact with your pussy. He draws a line from your opening up to your clit ever so softly before pulling your outer lips apart and diving in. He has just an ounce of restraint himself from going too hard and making you scream out in pleasure, even though he wants so badly to suck on your clit to hear you pleading for more. To stir out of your voice call out his name and title out of sheer joy. But he holds back. He presses an array of kisses and nibbles all over your folds as you close your eyes to focus on the torturing slow pace of his tongue. Your nipples are hard as a rock under your bra, your legs strain to stay in position when Frank slowly laps around your clit, collecting your arousal as your breathing hollows. He places a palm on your stomach, right under your sweater and catches the effects of his mouth in the way your body reacts. There’s an added edge to doing this right here, it makes his cock throb in his underwear as you mumble his name.

“Frank.” It comes out as a murmur, and he hums against your tender skin before going a little harder. There’s only so much he can do to up the pace and make you come without alerting anyone behind that door of what’s happening inside.

We'll be more careful, you said. He eats out your words straight out of your sex.

To speed up the process uses his other hand to slip two fingers into your opening and press on your g-spot. Your back arches in response. Frank has to press that hand on your abdomen a little harder to keep you from squirming too much. It feels like an eternity until you reach the point of no return, once you're there you can feel that fire burning bright at your core as a mind-numbing chill settles at the back of your head. You've never felt that intense jolt sparking your body like fireworks before. Then again you don't have much to compare him to other than the one and only boyfriend you had when you started college.

You grip at his hair as he cues your orgasm. With a strong flick of his tongue and that adamant pressing of your walls you finally come undone. You bury a moan in your throat as every cell of your body is touched by that wildfire that travels from your center out in every direction. It curls your toes in your shoes, your eyes shut, your knees clench together before he can pull his face away. As the orgasm ebbs he sets himself free from your thighs and watches you descend from cloud nine. He uses a tissue to clean up your cunt and fixes your panties to their former position. Then, Frank settles your legs down as your body goes completely limp, and straightens your skirt over your thighs with such love it almost makes you cry.

“Frank,” your voice comes out watery.

“Sh, it's okay, baby. I know. Come here.” He helps you up and pulls you onto his lap.

“I missed you.”

“I know.” He smiles against your hair as he snuggles you against his chest. “I’ve missed you too, sweetheart.”

You clear your throat and stay still for a minute while his hand soothes your back before noticing he’s still hard.

“Do you want me to take care of this?” You fondle his bulge over his pants.

“No, that’s okay. That’s my punishment for hurting you.” He takes your hand away, brings it up to his lip to kiss your knuckles.

“You really have a thing for punishment, huh?” You quip, lifting your head to look at him. It’s then that you notice his messed up hair and send our fingers to fix it.

“Not as much as you do.” His hand pats your ass reminding you of all those times you've begged him to spank you when you were being a brat.

You laugh as you take off his glasses and use the hem of your sweater to clean them.

“Can I come over this weekend?” You ask putting his eyewear back on.

“I have that wedding I told you about. Can't get out of it, I'm the best man.”

“Right. Of course. One of your marine buddies. Florida, right?”

“Yeah.” His stare goes down as he massages your hand thinking that maybe… “You could come with me if you want.”

“I uh… I don't think I'm ready for that.”

“No, you are. Nobody will know you there, and I don't wanna keep lying about you, at least not to my friends. They won't give a fuck, you know? I'm tired of being set up for blind dates and shit.”

“Oh, it must be really hard being you.” You mock.

“Don't laugh. Just think about it. It'll be something casual at the beach. I'll get you a ticket if you're worried about that.”

“I really changed your mind, did I? That's a full 180 from what you said the other day, Frank. Are you sure you want this?”

“Yeah, I was only fooling myself thinking that I could stay away from you. Which I would've if you hadn't shown up here with a fucking attitude. But you're right, we'll have to be more careful from now on.”

“And we can do whatever we want in Florida.”

“Yeah, you wanna come?”

“Only if you really want me there.”

“I wouldn't be asking if I didn't.”

“Then I'll go with you.”

You press your lips sweetly against his and let them bounce together for a moment before getting back to reality. You pull up your stockings all the way up and fix up your clothes before collecting your bag from the floor. But Professor Castle can't help but stall for a bit longer to kiss you once more until you have no choice but to run to your next class.

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle fanfiction #the punisher fanfiction #frank castle smut #jon bernthal #jon bernthal fanfiction #jon bernthal smut #angst #smut #darlingwrites

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clockwayswrites · 5 months

Text

A Broken Sort of Normal- Part 19

WC: 2134, Masterpost

Danny sit up straighter in his chair as he states his name, but Wally can see the wince that Danny tries to hide. Absently, Wally runs through Danny’s schedule of care and when the other will be able to have more pain medication.

“Were you born with powers?” Bruce continues.

“No.”

Wally wants to go to Danny. He wants to tell him that it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter that Danny has powers. It doesn’t mater how he got them. It doesn’t matter that Wally didn’t know. None of it matters to Wally; he’s just glad that Danny is still here.

“Are you comfortable explaining how did you got your powers?”

Danny runs his hand through his hair. He’s nervous. “Some of it. The broad strokes. It was a lab accident, because of course there was. My parents are ecto scientists, they study ghosts. They’re not… let’s just say don’t read their research into ghostly behavior. They are brilliant engineers though. They managed to build a portal to the Infinite Realms—”

“Minging knobheads,” John curses quietly.

“—and I was sorta in the portal when it turned on. Which, um, killed me and revived me at the same time. I was electrocuted while my system was flooded with ectoplasm.”

Killed.

Danny had— Danny had died. Again, before, Danny had died. Wally closed his eyes and swallowed around the catch in his throat. He almost never got the chance to know Danny. A hand fit into his and Wally knows instantly that it’s Dick’s. He grips it back tightly. At least he isn’t listening to this alone.

“It’s not so much that I got powers, as that because I’m half dead, I’m half ghost and I can do the things that ghosts can do. Invisibility, intangibility, flight… things like that. Long story short, someone had to stop the ghosts that the portal let through—”

John is up and pacing now. Zatanna doesn’t even try to stop him.

“—so I sort of became the town hero. I went by Phantom. It was… well, you’ve all been there.”

God, Wally wishes Danny didn’t know how that was.

“Kid… did you even have anyone to help you?” Barry asks.

Danny shrugs. “Two friends and eventually Ja… my older sister.. There are a few ghosts that were sometimes allies but ghosts…”

“Ghosts aren’t good or evil, they’ve got obsessions,” John explains into the silence. “Sometimes those obsessions motivate the ghosts in a way that seems one way or another. It only works out for you as long as your needs aligns with their obsession.”

Wally’s mind spins.

“Danny,” Bruce asks with very careful words, “do you have an obsession?”

He searches back through his memories of Danny.

“Yes.”

It couldn’t be anything anyone would see as bad or dangerous.

“Protection. My obsession is protection. It’s not as compelling to me as it is for a full ghost. For me it’s more like a hunger craving or itch, but it is there. It’s a good part of why I became a paramedic.”

Oh. That made so much sense.

“That’s our Danny,” Danna says, softly, from in their group.

“Why did you not simply join us as a hero?” Diana asks.

“Before, well, things were… complicated? There’s this government agency that considers ghosts non-sentient and—”

Danny jerks back in his chair at all the exclamations that rang out in the room at that. It isn’t just a reaction to the sudden noise, Wally realizes, Danny looks startled at being defended.

It breaks Wally’s heart.

“It’s okay!” Danny says over the din. “They were always pretty incompetent, really, even when working with my parents. I never even ended up vivisected or anything!”

Gar clamps a hand over his mouth and mutters. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Danny,” Dianna says his name gently, “have your parents ever attacked you?”

“They don’t know I’m a halfa. They don’t know I’m Phantom,” Danny says. There’s a pleading note to his voice that makes Wally agree with Gar; he’s going to be sick.

“But they’ve attacked Phantom,” Dianna says. It’s not a question, but Danny nods anyways. “Danny, do we need to set up protection for you from your parents?”

“They don’t know—”

“Kid,” Barry interrupts, “what you did was on the news. Like, every news station across the world. I think they know now.”

Danny sits back in his chair. He picks at the already frayed edge of the hoodie. Suddenly he looks small in a way that Wally’s only seen when Danny’s been in the middle of a panic attack. Any strength Danny’s gathered the last few days seems to leave him as his shoulders slump. “Maybe. I guess… I don’t know how they’ll take the news. It’s… maybe. We’ll, um, more than that someone needs to make sure the portal stays closed down. If the ghosts start coming through again…”

The hand Danny presses against his chest shakes. “I’m not as strong as I used to be. I don’t know if my powers will come back still or if this… is what I am now, but my core is weaker than it used to be. If this the way I’ll be now, I won’t be able to fight them off.”

“Are they dangerous?” Bruce asks. “Beyond the morality of their obsession, are they actively dangerous to you?”

“That’s not an easy question. Mostly the ghosts used Amity Park as a new way to fulfill their obsessions. Lunch Lady wants to feed people, which is good, but if you don’t want to eat things can get nasty. Obsessions are like that, they can twist quickly. The ghosts also just like to brawl, a lot of them at least. Some of them would understand if I can’t and back off, but there are others… take Skulker,” Danny says with a wave of his hand, “his obsession is hunting rare game and, well, I’m rare game. He wants to mount my pelt to his wall.”

With an unpleasant noise, Gar dashes from the room. It makes Danny wince and mumble an apology.

Wally is already mentally calling favors to call in to safeguard their apartment, not that he thinks anyone will say no to protecting Danny.

“We’ll make checking on the portal a priority as soon as this meeting is done,” Bruce assures Danny.

“Thank you. I don’t want anyone to be hurt if it gets turned back on.”

“Why has it been off? If it’s off, why would they turn it back on now?” John asks, still pacing.

Danny looks away from the table again. “Because they remember now.”

“The curse?” John asks at the same time Bary asks, “What do you mean remember?”

“I mean they forgot, because, yeah, the curse,” Danny says. He’s back to picking at his sleeve. Everyone gives him time to try and find his words, which he does with a wet laugh. “I was stupid. I mean, I was young, but I still should have known better. I was just… I was having a hard time. My parents were working on a new GIW contract and my friends… team were going off to college… I was going to be alone to deal with the ghosts. I still should have known better. I just wished I could be normal.”

“That’s not wrong, Danny,” Barry says. “We’ve all felt that sometime…”

Danny’s shaking his head. “You don’t understand. You don’t wish in Amity Park.”

“Because of this Desiree?” Zatanna asks.

“Because of Desiree,” Danny confirms. “Some ghosts have very specific powers and those are usually strong powers. For Desiree, it’s… it was reality altering based on wishes. I forgot to never say ‘I wish’.”

After a moment of comprehending silence, Diana asks, “She had the power to make you fully human?”

“No, even borrowing power like I think she did, Desiree couldn’t do that. But that’s not what she needed to do. Normal isn’t a real thing, it’s just societal, you know? She just had to make sure no one remembered I was half dead and, tada, I had a normal life.”

John finally stops pacing and leans against the back of his chair. His cigarette is a mangled mess dangling from his lips. “What was the catch?”

“I wanted to be normal, so I had to stay normal. I couldn’t be noticed using any of my powers or being too ghostly or tell anyone I had died or what things used to be like. If I did— well you all saw what happened,” Danny looks up, finally, right at Wally. “It’s why I couldn’t tell any of you, even if I wanted too. It’s why I couldn’t use my powers to help. As soon as I did, I was good as dead.”

More than ever Wally wants to rush over to Danny’s side. He wants to let Danny know it’s alright that he kept this secret. It doesn’t matter. He settles for what he hopes is a reassuring smile.

“I still don’t know how I survived. As soon as Desiree appeared and took my powers, that should have been it for me. My ghost half can’t survive without them and my human half isn’t alive enough to last by itself. It would be like cutting off a normal person’s oxygen. I should have been ended.”

“We overloaded her,” Zatanna explains.

“Forced all your power— which there was a fucking lot of it— into her at once,” John finished. “She popped like a balloon with too much air.”

“Did you have to describe it that way?” Hal grumbles.

“Oh.” Danny blinks a few times as he took that in. “I guess, okay. I mean, yeah, I was more powerful than a lot of ghosts; something about being a halfa and my state being mutable still. I didn’t think though… right, okay. But how am I still here?”

“When she popped,” John says with a smirk towards Hal, “the air was full of ambient ectoplasm. Flash zapped you, re-started your heart, and the cloud went up like a match in a fart.”

Danny’s face wrinkled up at that. “Ew. But, alright. I mean it was my power first. I guess that…” Danny’s hand comes up to press over his sternum. “I guess that means this is my power level now.”

“And the rest of the curse?” Zatanna asks, leaning forward in her seat.

“Gone. People remember now.”

Wally thought to all the phone messages Danny had been getting in a new light.

“That’s why we need to make sure the portal is closed.”

“As well as that the GIW are shut down and that your parents do not try to harm you,” Diana says with that firm certainty of hers.

“Right,” Danny says after a beat. It’s hard to see how clearly Danny doesn’t consider himself a priority. “And… for the rest of it all?”

Diana tilts her head in question. “The rest of it?”

“I didn’t tell anyone my status. I lied to some of you. Is that…”

“You did what you needed to stay alive and hurt no one.” She holds up a hand to stop any protests from Danny. “While I have no doubt with your heart as it is you do not wish you could have done more, it would have never been asked of you at the cost of your life. You are a hero, Danny, and have been since you joined the Response Team in Central City. You have only continued to prove it by your willingness to act and the honor with which you did so. The Justice League is proud to still have you as your post, as soon as you are recovered.”

Finally the last of the tension drains Danny’s shoulders. “I’ll be happy to get back to it.”

Wally tunes Diana out as she wraps up the meeting.

“I’m going to ask him,” Wally says to Dick, who still has his hand.

“What? Now?” Dick hisses.

Wally watches as Danny shakes Clark’s hand. “Why not? Everyone’s here, like you said had to be.”

“Because it’s a debrief! That’s not exactly the most romantic moment.”

The other Titans are standing around them, waiting for their chance to see Danny. Even Gar is back.

“I almost missed my chance, N. I almost never got to ask,” Wally pleads. “I don’t want to miss it again.”

Dick just sighs and pulls a small case out of his belt. He presses it into their clasped hands before releasing his grip

Wally can feel the smile stretching across his face. “You know me so well.”

Dick just shoves Wally off his chair. “Go get your man. Ghost? Man ghost.”

Laughing, Wally fumbles to his feet and towards Danny.

“Danny!”

Danny who’s still here and alive.

Who smiles like the sun as he turns towards Wally.

“Yes?”

---

AN: I don't know, is it too cruel to end right there? 😇 Don't worry, we'll get an epilogue to hopefully tie the loose ends up in a bow! But this is the last half of the last full chapter! They know! And they still respect and love Danny. He can stop worrying~

You can subscribe to the masterpost here.

#dp x dc #abson #quick death ship #danny/wally

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moon-tell-me · 4 months

Text

Them having a crush on you...

The outsiders (separate) x GN! reader

Warnings: nothing I don't think :))

DARRY CURTIS

It's been a reaalllyy long time since he's felt this way for anyone

So a small part of him is excited when he realizes it

But the majority of him..?

Well.. that's a different story

He's very busy with work and the family

He just doesn't have any time for love or romance

You understand ://

So it's unlikely he will do much of anything on his own

He will probably even avoid you a bit in hopes of making himself feel better

That being said, if you realize what's going on, and decide to pursue the relationship, he may manage to fit you in his schedule :))

"Hey, Darry.. uhm, could we talk for a second..?" You asked, as you popped up from around the corner, completely catching him off guard. It had been almost two weeks since you two had a proper conversation, and you weren't gonna let it go on any longer.

SODAPOP CURTIS

Okay so this is gonna come as a surprise to no one, but..

Throughout his life he has consistently gotten girlfriends and boyfriends with no issue

Again, no one's surprised

I mean, look at him, he's beautiful

Anyways-

He immediately knows that he likes you

And he very quickly starts planning out how he can go about the situation

It won't take very long for him to make his move, however if you beat him to it, he would definitely be over the moon

There you are, looking as good as ever. He's already decided that he's gonna ask you out later, an- wait.. your walking over to him..?

PONYBOY CURTIS

Poor kid doesn't know wtf is going on at first

All he knows is that he suddenly enjoys your company more then before

It wasn't until you interlocked his fingers with yours one night that he finally became fully aware of his feelings

He is not nearly as subtle about these feelings as he thinks he is.

He's so obvious, you'd have to be pretty inattentive to not notice anything

Based on this, you will likely be making the first move

With a dramatic sigh you let your head fall against his shoulder. The two of you have been studying together for about two hours and your in desperate need of a break. "C'mon, you need to focus." He said, sounding more annoyed then he really was. You grabbed his hand, interlocking your fingers and looking up at him pleadingly. "Pleease.?"

DALLAS WINSTON

Ohh boy

Out of allll the guys in Tulsa, you caught his attention?

Lucky 🙄

I love him sm istg

In all seriousness, this is very new to him

He's not used to genuinely caring about someone

Besides Johnny, he's never really loved anything

He's gonna start off with his typical flirting

That won't change until he realizes his feelings

After that, he switches to being a total jerk to you

Mans does not know how to process his feelings

Just give him time tho, he'll figure it all out

Here you are, sitting on the porch of the Curtis house. It's late and everyone is inside the house, save for you and Dal. He's been real difficult lately, although tonight his attitude has noticably improved. As you watch him struggle to light his cancer stick you can't help but wonder, what did he want to ask you.?

JOHNNY CADE

My sweet, respectful boy

He falls head over heels immediately

Everybody realizes his feelings rather quickly too

Including himself

He's not stupid

He notices how his cheeks get all warm

His hands get all sweaty

His knees feel like they might give out

It's a new feeling for him

For once he has someone touching him without causing him pain

I'm gonna fight his parents- WOAH! Who said that!? 😅

If your the type of person who is really affectionate with your friends (me fr) then you might actually kill the poor kid

He asked Dally for advice only to completely ignore it

Turns out Dally sucks at giving good advice, who woulda known?

He was thankful for how dark it had gotten, otherwise you would be able to see just how red his face had gone. For some reason you had decided it would be a great idea to hold his hand out of nowhere. Why can't you see what your doing to him?

TWO-BIT MATHEWS

You guys prolly met in middle school

He pulled some dumb shii and put gum in your hair or something

After that he often teased you

Referring to you as his girlfriend/boyfriend

You better expect a lot of playful flirting with this one

He pretty much confesses his feelings on the daily tbh

Albeit in a way that makes you think it's a joke

Eventually you just kinda realize that hey, maybe he isn't joking

"See, I always knew we were perfect for each other, ever since that day in sixth grade." He teased, throwing his arm around your shoulder only for you to immediately push it off. "Get off of me, would you?"

#the outsiders x reader #darry Curtis x reader #sodapop x reader #ponyboy x reader #Dallas Winston x reader #Johnny Cade x reader #Two-bit Mathews x reader #Spotify

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goldenbuckyyy · 2 years

Text

YOU ARE IN LOVE

Summary: Confessions of love lead to a place you never thought you’d be.

Pairings: Draco Malfoy x fem!Reader

Word count: 6.6kish

Warnings: Idiots to lovers, SMUT (over 3k of it), oral sex (fem!receiving), raw sex, cream pie, multiple orgasms, undertones of Dom!Draco, pretty much making love

A/N: hi!!!! Omg, it’s finally here! Yay!! Here’s PART 4 of my Heather series. 🥺 my baby!! I’m so happy for this part. Hopefully you all enjoy. Please let me know what you think at the end!! I love them so much 😭💚 please read the first three parts before this one (linked below) Song for this fic: “You are in love” by Taylor Swift

Also hit 400 followers recently 🥺🫶🏻 thank you!!

All mistakes are my own. Please do not repost or translate my fics on any other side nor this one.

I appreciate any likes, reblogs, messages, and interactions.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

The cold November chill felt welcomed on your skin as you stood in the Astronomy tower. You overlooked Hogwarts with a smile, knowing this is the last Thanksgiving you’d ever spend here, but you didn’t feel sad right now.

You felt grateful for your experience here because not many were that lucky. You had stayed for Thanksgiving break once back in your second year and it was magical. So beautiful. You loved it. Draco had stayed with you then. He never left you alone.

But you were alone now. You knew he was back at the Malfoy manor. You watched him leave to catch the train just days ago. You pretended to forget something at the castle as your friends went to the train, but it was just an excuse so nobody would know that you were staying for the holiday.

You didn’t want Draco finding out. You wanted to be alone.

You slowly let your fingers run along the railing, the cold metal against your warm skin making you shiver slightly, and you tug your orange sweater over your palms to warm you up again.

Today was Thanksgiving. One of your favorite holidays. You mostly enjoyed it because of the food. But truthfully, who didn’t?

You were going to miss your mom's homemade Thanksgiving dinner. Especially the apple pie you and your dad always made for the holiday. But Hogwarts is going to have to make do. You’re sure they won’t disappoint. They never do.

You had noticed there were a bit more students that had decided to stay. You were surprised to see so many students in your class. They probably wanted to enjoy their last Thanksgiving here as a student at Hogwarts. You were surprisingly happy to have chosen to stay.

You start making your way down to the Great Hall for Thanksgiving dinner. Your belly is begging for food already. You only drank a warm cup of hot chocolate this morning because you loved to wait to eat until dinner time. That way you had more room for the feast.

You had chosen to dress up today either way. You had paired your orange oversized sweater with a black skirt, it was one of those fitted ones that you really liked, black sheer leggings, and your pair of black booties. It was simple, but you felt pretty.

You had even applied some makeup and styled your hair to your own liking. You even managed to find your cute pair of thanksgiving earrings. They were two little pumpkin pies. You thought it was hilarious when your mom gifted them to you when you were a kid. You’ve worn them every year since.

You enter the Great Hall with a smile on your face, the different foods filling your space, you inhale deeply, almost moaning at the thought of eating already, and look around to see where you can sit.

You spot the Golden Trio sitting down at the Gryffindor table. Talking amongst themselves enthusiastically and laughing. You noticed all the different students from different houses had all gathered at the same table. You smiled at that and made your way to Harry.

Ron notices you first, his elbow shoving Harry suddenly, Harry whimpering an “Ow!” He's about to shove Ron when Ron raises his eyebrows towards you, you’re still smiling as you walk towards them. Harry does the same thing he always does when he sees you.

He sits up straighter, fixes his glasses, and smiles at you.

“Hi, Harry!” You say as you reach them, standing next to Hermoine. Who has an empty seat next to her. She looks up at you, smiling, they all welcome you, “Is this seat taken?”

“No, of course not!” Harry blubbers out with a rush.

Ron and Hermoine snicker at his reaction, Hermoine places her hand on your forearm, “Sit, Y/N. You’re more than welcomed to join us.”

You beam at her as you sit next to her. You both fall into conversation, completely forgetting about Ron and Harry, and gush about different topics. It was so incredibly easy to talk to Hermoine. Even Ron and Harry.

They had even admitted to you a couple days ago that they were scared of you because of your friendship with Draco. You laughed loudly when they told you and teased them about it. You had even told them that Draco only puts on a front at them, but was truthfully a nice person. They were hesitant to believe you, but you didn’t force your words at them.

Ron watches you and Hermoine with wide eyes, he looks at Harry, who looks about the same, “It’s like we don’t even exist, mate.” Harry hums in agreement.

Soon enough, the long table is filled with the Thanksgiving feast.

You gawk at the food in front of you. All the classics. The delicious looking turkey, the honey glazed pineapple ham, sweet potato casserole with brown butter on top, extra cheesy Mac and cheese, mash potatoes, corn casserole, and everything pumpkin flavored.

Pumpkin pie, pumpkin juice, pumpkin cookies, pumpkin topping. It was overwhelming.

You noticed your favorite butterbeer cookies eyeing you already. You reached over to grab some before they finished.

You all start digging into the food, you enjoy a little bit of everything until you feel satisfied.

The talks and laughter around you never stops. You feel happy with a belly full of food and a mouth filled with laughter.

The Great Hall starts emptying slowly and you feel someone sit down next to you, you turn with a smile, and it doesn’t falter when you see Cedric. Dressed in his favorite Hufflepuff sweater and scarf combo along with a dazzling smile.

You turn to face him, tilting your head on your arm, “Hi!”

“Hi,” he chuckles out with crinkling eyes.

You were happy that thankfully Cedric was okay with being only friends with you. It was a slightly awkward conversation the next night after what had happened she tween you two. Or what had almost happened.

He had caught you on your way back to the Slytherin quarters, you had both gone to sit at one of the benches in the hall, and spoke openly about the past events.

You apologized profusely about what had happened and he stopped you midway so he could apologize. He repeatedly asked you if you had felt he had taken advantage of you. With careful reassurance that you had consented to what had happened, every step of the way, and explained to him how you didn’t think it was fair to either of you to pursue something when your heart was truthfully with someone else.

He didn’t ask who, but you knew that he knew.

“How are you doing?” You ask him, nibbling on a butterbeer cookie.

“I’m doing alright, are those good?” He questions curiously, you had him a piece, and he chews on it and rolls his eyes back, “Bloody brilliant, yeah?”

“Indeed,” you hum back with a chuckle.

Easy conversation flows between you two about the end of the semester and how lovely it is to be here for the Holidays. You both agreed that it was the right choice to stay here and that maybe you’d both stay again for Christmas. You had never stayed for Christmas and the Trio said they were going to stay as well.

“I’m staying then,” you state happily, sipping on your pumpkin juice, and laughing at Ron’s comments to Hermione about something ridiculous.

Hermoine nudges you suddenly, you look at her confused, her face falling as she’s looking towards the Great Hall double doors, and you turn quickly to see what’s she’s looking at.

You feel your heart drop to your stomach when you see Draco standing there. He’s wearing his sweater, your favorite one, black slacks, and you notice his hair is loose and framing his forehead in curls.

His eyes are already on you.

You furr your eyebrows in confusion as you wonder what he’s doing here. You look around at your friends, who are looking at you in confusion, only knowing the bare minimum of what you had told them. But they knew something was going on between you two.

“Excuse me,” you say quickly, grabbing your extra butterbeer cookies, and walk towards Draco.

He waits for you at the entrance and immediately follows you as you walk out.

You stop in the empty hallway, “What are you doing here?” You question him as you try to keep your voice steady.

You fumble with the cookies in your hand, not wanting to look up at him, and he sighs deeply above you.

“My mother told me you were spending the holiday here. Why didn’t you tell me? You could’ve come home with me.”

You huff, “No, I couldnt.”

“Why not? Because we’re in a fight?” Draco’s tone is not harsh, but in disbelief. You avoid his gaze and look to the side.

“It doesn’t matter if we’re in a fight. You’re my best friend and I don’t want you to be alone on one of your favorite holidays.”

“I’m not alone…I’m with my friends,” you reply quickly, brushing your hair away from your face, and trying to keep your heart from racing.

“And what am I?”

You finally look up at him when he says that. His gray eyes peering at you, his lips turned down into a frown, and he waits for your reply. You notice his fingertips are itching to grab your wrists. His hands go into tight fists to keep them to himself.

Your heart skips a beat because you miss him so much. It’s only been over a week that you’ve spoken to him. Been in his bed.

But it feels like a lifetime and it’s slowly killing you.

You tilt your head to the side as you watch him, the corners of your lips frowning, your eyes taking him in, “You’re… you’re my Draco.”

You both start casually walking down the hall, you both on instinct go towards the peach three in the courtyard, and you both sit down on the bench under the tree.

You shiver slightly as the cold wind brushes against your warm cheeks and Draco silently curses at himself for not bringing a coat with him to the Great Hall.

You turn to face him, still holding your cookies in your hands, and look at him. Your heart feels heavy as you both stare at each other.

His eyes look into yours with such sadness in them that it makes you want to curl into a ball and weep. You feel yourself starting to shake slightly because of how nervous you feel.

Is this the end? The real end between you two?

“Hey,” his voice startles you, soft and sweet, his hands finally inch towards you, and he takes your free one into his warm palms. His big hand covering yours completely.

“Why are you shaking? It’s just me,” he whispers as he pushes a stray hair away from your face, his thumb caressing your cheek slightly, you feel yourself flush underneath his gaze, and you shuffle on the bench.

“I feel this way because of you,” you admit, not breaking eye contact with him.

“I…” Draco starts to say, but quickly stops talking when he notices a couple people walking around the halls and chatting in the corridor as well.

He doesn’t let go of your hand, “We should go somewhere more private.”

“Like where?”

He opens his mouth, but closes it. His jaw locks, his eyes slowly avert from yours, but then he looks back. Your eyebrows raise in confusion as you wait for him to speak.

“What about my room?” His voice filled with uncertainty.

You still. You haven’t set foot in his room since the argument you last had in there. You hadn’t even bothered to go and get your things that you had left there. You hadn’t wanted to face him yet.

A part of you wants to go back in there. You miss the warmth and comfort you felt there.

Lately, all you’ve felt is loneliness as you sleep alone every night in the empty bed in your big room.

The emptiness of his side next to you never left your mind. You find yourself nodding, he gets up, you follow, and he leads you towards his room.

He stops in front of the door after walking up the steps, you behind him, and he whispers his password to the painting in front of the door.

He whispers your favorite spell.

Your heart tugs a bit that he didn’t change it. You know it hasn’t been that long, but it’s been the longest time the both of you have gone without each other.

He opens the door and the sweet smell of apples mixed with cinnamon and vanilla fills your senses. You let your eyes close slightly, inhaling the mesmerizing scent, and you follow him inside his room.

He walks around the room and you stand near the door, feeling a bit awkward, not knowing what to do anymore in this room, and you watch him.

He peers at you as he sits in his emerald green loveseat, he gestures to the matching chair in the corner of the room, and you start walking towards it. You glance around the room, taking notice that all your belongings are still in the same place, and you wish they weren’t.

You secretly wish he had already packed up your belongings into a box to make this easier. You sit down and set your cookies onto the table in between you two.

“Do you want some tea or coffee?” He asks as he’s about to stand up to make some.

“No, it’s okay.”

He pauses and sits back down. He turns his body towards you, his leg bouncing up and down, and he lets out a deep sigh.

A couple minutes pass with you both sitting in silence. You gulp down your nerves and open your mouth to speak.

“Draco?” You ask.

Your voice fills his ears like sweet honey. “Yes?”

“Why am I here?” You question him as you let out a sigh.

“I’m a coward,” he blurts out, turning his face to look at you, you frown.

“What?”

“I am a coward. Draco Malfoy is a coward.”

You adjust yourself into your seat, placing one leg underneath your bottom, and fully face him.

“Draco,” you say, reaching over to him and taking his hand in both of yours. “What are you talking about?”

His hand grips yours, “The last time you were here… You, uh, you asked me if I ever thought about doing.. what we do… with, umm, someone else.” Your eyes furr because Draco is fumbling with his words and he never does.

“I remember,” you tell him, a pang in your chest when you remember what he said after you asked him that last time.

“Well.. I.. I, uh, I lied to you.”

You sit up straight. His eyes racing over your face, taking in your different expressions, “I know I insinuated that I thought about doing that with Heather, but I lied. I’ve never thought about doing what we do with anybody else. Ever.”

You scoff at him, not believing him, “What are you going off about, Draco? You’ve fancied Heather since the day you met her.” You try to pull your hand out of his, but he grips onto it.

“I told you that day that I never thought about doing this with someone else and I meant it. I know I said I fancied Heather, but I swear.. I… I never have.”

“You lied to me?” You say in disbelief. A part of you wanting to be happy that he never fancied her, but why did he lie to you?

“I… I did.”

“Why? What are you saying?” You pull your hand out of his with force, standing up quickly and starting to pace around the room, as the memories of that conversation fill your mind.

Draco sits up in the loveseat, facing you, and pouting.

“I asked you if you felt anything for me! I asked you if I was more than just your friend! You didn’t say anything! I gave you a chance to say anything, to say something, and you bloody stayed quiet! You never said anything! And then I’m with Cedric that night and you burst into his room, demanding I go with you, and for what? For you to never say anything else to me? Then we didn't talk for almost a week and now… now… now you want to say something? Why?”

You continue to pace the room, confusion filling you, and you stop in front of him. Hands on your hips, chest raising angrily, and you watch him.

He doesn’t say anything, biting the skin around his fingernails, and he bites his lower lip with nerves.

“What’s going on, Draco? You’re confusing me,” you cry out at him.

“I am a coward that didn’t see what was in front of him until it was too late,” he stands up, towering over you, taking his hands in his, and you both look into each other’s eyes.

“I am in love with you,” he confesses in a whisper. You suck in a gasp, your world stills at his words, and you start shaking your head.

You frown deeply, “Stop it.”

Draco grips your hands in his tightly, “This… this thing between us started in fifth year.. we were barely fifteen years old. We both decided to do this, but a part of me only agreed because I wanted you to want me the same way I’ve always wanted you,” you mouth parts in shock, “A part of me has always loved you. I… I think I’ve always known that I have, but I’ve always been a coward at admitting it to myself. That was almost four years ago next year… And… my-my love for you has only grown.”

You feel tears welling up in your eyes as you stare up at him, trying your hardest to wrap your mind around his words, and you let the tears fall down your cheeks.

“Please, don’t cry,” he whispers as his thumb wipes away your tears gently.

Your lips quiver, “I… I’m having a hard time believing you, Draco.” Your confession stuns him, he looks at you with confusion.

“Wh-what?” His voice is shaky.

“What about Heather?”

His eyes darted away from your face for a second, “I… I, um, I made it up.”

“You what?” You feel different emotions filling your body. Confusion at his confession. Anger that he lied to you. Happiness because he feels the same way. Guilt for what you had done with Cedric.

“I didn’t lie when I said I met Heather because of my mom in the summer. But I’ve never felt anything towards her. Ever. I only said that to you because I was hoping to make you jealous,” another confession slips his lips.

“To… make me jealous?” You repeat his words, feeling distress.

He nods, his body language showing you he’s ashamed of his actions, and he sighs. “I… I know my actions are confusing you.. and I know you might need some time, but…” he pauses and his palms cup your face gently, “I am in love with you.”

Your breathing is picking up, you’re looking at him in shock, everything you’ve ever wanted to hear… he’s saying it right now.

“I’m so in love with you that I was deeply afraid of letting you know because of the fear that you didn’t feel the same way about me. But if I would have just looked deeper… I would have seen and heard what you were trying to tell me…”

“And what was that?” You whisper out, your hands slowly moving to palm his hands on your face.

“That you’re in love with me too,” he pleads, voice wavering with hope.

“Draco,” you whisper, tears falling down your cheeks, closing your eyes as you let a whimper fall out between your lips.

“Do you not believe me?” He questions, hurt filling the room.

You sniff as you lean your face into his palms, crying out, “Can you blame me?”

Before you know it, you feel Draco’s hands leaving your face, you look for his hands, and he’s kneeling in front of you.

“What? Draco, what are you doing?”

He holds your hands in his, his knees touching the floor, he lets out a quiet cry.

Your heart breaks at hearing him cry.

“Y/N…” he begins, “Its always been you.” He looks up at you with tears in his eyes, “I have always loved you, never anybody else. I swear it. I have never once felt the way I feel for you for anybody else. Never.”

He grips your hands in his, kissing the palms of your wrists, “You are the only one I’m ever going to want.” His voice is shaking, “It’s you who I want next to me. Warming my bed, forever. You’re everything I want. Everything!”

You both are staring at each other, crying together, he continues, “I know I’m a bloody fucking idiot for not saying this sooner and I know it’s hard to believe me right now after everything… but I’m so in love with you that merely thinking about anybody else… It sickens me. You are the only person that matters to me. You’re the only one I see in my future.”

You fall to your knees in front of him, your arms wrapping around his neck, his hands gripping your waist so your knees don’t hit the floor as he tugs you into him, and you cry.

“Draco, I…” your lips quiver, “I’m so sorry for what I did with Cedric. I… I thought you didn’t feel the same way and I just wanted to forget about you.”

Draco shakes his head rapidly, “Don’t apologize. You did nothing wrong. I was a coward and you were just trying to move on from my bloody dumbass.”

You let out a giggle at his words, you wipe his tears away from his face as he wipes away yours, “I’m in love with you, too.” You confess, your heart rate accelerating at saying those words out loud. Finally.

His eyes lighten up at your words.

“I’ve always loved you. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. It has been hell without you since our last argument and I never want to go through that again.” You lay your head on his shoulder, sniffing and whimpering into him, and he holds you in his arms tightly.

“It won’t ever happen again, I swear.”

“I love you,” he whispers into your ear as his hands tangle into your hair. You scruff your head onto his shoulders, taking him in, and breathing in his warm scent all around you.

You both lean out, his forehead on yours, your eyes are closed, you can feel his heartbeat against you, and his breathing increasing slightly.

One of his hands grasp your neck, you lean up to look at him, his eyes wander your face and land on your lips. Your hands are holding onto his biceps as one of his free arms wraps around your waist, gently and with hesitance. As if he’s scared to touch you.

“I’ve missed you terribly, my love.”

You lick your lips, “I missed you more.” You let your gaze stop on his lips, he parts them open, and you both start leaning into each other.

You met in the middle, your lips centimeters apart, you can smell his mint breathe, and you shiver at being this close to him again.

“Draco,” you whisper out as you close your eyes, letting your body melt into his, and he pulls you into his space with his arms.

His lips touch yours gently, you whimper at the feeling as fire erupts in your belly at the contact, goosebumps breaking out over your skin, and your eyes flutter closed.

You move your arms to wrap around his neck as your lips move against his, it’s as if you’ve never been apart, and you feel fuzzy like you always do when you kiss him. You feel your body already reacting to his touch and you cry out for him.

Draco’s tongue slowly lines your bottom lip, you part your mouth open for him, and your tongues meet in the middle. You both moan simultaneously, one of his hands gripping your waist, the other on the back of your neck, and you grip your arms together around him. You lean up to kiss him harder and he bites your bottom lip which causes you to whine loudly.

You pull away from him, his mouth sucking on your lip, and you groan against him. His hands move towards the end of your sweater, you feel him hesitate, and you look at him with a small smile. Feeling your skin flushed.

“I trust you,” you breathe out, his eyes flutter, and he smiles sweetly at you. He wraps his lips around yours once more, his hands inch underneath your sweater, and your skin feels as if it’s on fire. His big warm hands on your skin making your belly erupt with butterflies.

“God, I’ve missed your skin.” He starts to kiss down your neck with big open mouthed kisses, leaving love bites down as he goes, his eyes looking up at you with pleasure, and you moan with every kiss. You grind your hips against his, your hands clinging onto his shoulders, and you pull away from him.

You stand up quickly, pulling him up with you, and you both stand in front of each other.

You take one step back, letting yourself take him in, the big dent in his slacks making your mouth water, and you reach down to tug off your sweater.

You throw it to the side, letting him look at your chest, your breasts are covered with a lacy black bra, and you're both breathing heavily. You kick off your boots with ease, he follows your lead by tugging off his sweater, and unbuckling his belt.

You both hold eye contact as you lower down your skirt and him his slacks. You lick your lips once you see him in only his tight black briefs, your mouth feeling dry when he palms himself to try and relieve the pressure he’s feeling, he hisses at his own touch, you tighten your legs together for a second to slow down the throbbing you feel, and you slide your hands into your sheer leggings.

You bend down slowly to pull them off your legs and you stand in front of him, holding the lace of your panties in between your fingers.

Draco's eyes are taking you in, every single inch of you, and you don’t feel insecure under his stare. You missed the way he ate you up with his eyes, he’s biting his lips as his eyes go down to your breasts, your navel, and land on your most private area.

You feel yourself wet with anticipation and want.

“Lay down,” Draco orders, chills run down your spine at his tone, and your body follows before your mind can. You lay down on the bed, with your arms underneath you to hold you up, and Draco moves to hover over your body.

You feel him against your thigh, hard, and you moan when he kisses your neck.

His arms are caging you underneath him, “Can I touch you, baby?”

You nod at him as you reach up to kiss his lips, slowly.

His hand slips underneath your torso, he unclips your bra, you let it fall over your shoulders, pulling it off your chest, and his mouth immediately meets with your already perked nipples.

You gasp when his warm tongue laps on your nipples, he moves between both of your breasts, his hands cupping each one of them, the moans you let out only fuels him, and he starts moving down your stomach.

He lets his tongue swirl around your belly, licking your naval, and his hands grip onto your panties.

He swiftly pulls them down, he sits on his knees with your legs on his shoulders, he pulls off your panties, he kisses the inside of your ankle, and you open your legs for him.

Your hands grip your breasts as he admires you. You’re soaking and he knows it.

He watches your glistening pussy underneath him, all for him, he moans at the sight, and curses.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” he licks up your calf, bitting the inside of your thighs, and you whimper. His eyes are locked on yours, he’s making sure you’re watching him, and you bite your bottom lip when his mouth hovers over your pussy.

“Dray,” you whisper, hitching your hips to him, and he tsks at you.

“Always so inpatient,” he says with a chuckle, he lowers himself down flat, and spreads your legs wider. His mouth latches onto you, you moan out loudly when you feel his wet tongue on you, his tongue laying flat on your folds, then flicking up to your clit.

You gasp sharply, your breathing increasing with pleasure, and you tilt your head back as your hands grasp onto his almost white locks.

Your hips move with his mouth in sync, he licks and slurps your wetness, your clit throbbing against him, “I’ve missed your taste, princess.” His breaths on you, you move your legs onto his shoulders, and pull him down to you again.

He continues to eat you up, he slowly lets a finger enter you, you cry out at the sensation, feeling yourself tight around his digit, and he works you open slowly.

He groans against your pussy as he feels how tight you are around him, he couldn’t believe he had gone so long without you, and he inserts a second finger without warning.

You gasp again, feeling yourself burning up as he opens you, his fingers curling inside of you is something you hadn’t realized how much you had missed, and Draco starts moving his hips into the mattress.

Your mouth parts with pants as his fingers find your sweet spot, “Draco!” You breathe out with a moan, his tongue lapping your wetness faster, his lips wrap around your clit, sucking on it, your legs are starting to shake as you near your orgasm, and he increases his speed inside of you.

His fingers keep fucking into you, his tongue licking you in the right places, and playing with your clit at all the right moments.

“You’ve always tasted amazing, sweetheart.” Draco quickly says to you before he continues doing what he does best.

You whine out, hands locked into his hair, your back arching up with pleasure, and he moves his free hand to play with your nipples. You tug onto his locks feeling yourself getting closer and knowing that’s the signal you use to tell him.

Draco moans against your pussy, sending vibrations to your clit, and you feel your lower belly start contracting with your anticipating orgasm.

You feel tears in the corner of your eyes, your hips grinding against his mouth, and he curls his fingers inside of you one more time.

“Draco!” You yell out in pleasure as your orgasm takes over you suddenly. His mouth latches onto your clit, sucking on it, your entire body shaking with euphoria, and Draco only slurps up all your wetness.

Draco moans against your pussy, licking you slowly as you come down, your chest raising up and down to catch your breath, and Draco slowly pulls away from you. His fingers inside of you exit slowly and you bite your lip looking at him.

Draco’s lips are swollen and puffy, he licks them and sucks his bottom lip, you reach down to him, pulling at him from his arms, and wrapping your lips around his. Moaning as you taste yourself on him. His hand wrapping underneath your neck, pulling your naked body into his, his warm-flushed skin feeling hot against you, and you both lean your foreheads together.

You look down at his still covered dick and look into his eyes again. He waits for you to say something, his gray eyes looking beautiful, and you reach down to shove off his briefs.

Draco moves one of his hands to help you, you feel his big dick hit your thighs, and you know he’s absolutely throbbing against you.

“I can’t wait to feel you,” Draco whispers into your neck as he pumps himself quickly, you spread open your legs, placing your hands on his face, he aligns himself with you, you both stare into each other’s eyes, he rubs his dick up and down your wetness, hitting your clit gently, you moan, and then you feel him at your entrance.

You’re both breathing deeply, his dick entering your folds, and you bite your lower lip. One of his hands underneath your waist and the other holding your face. It’s as if the world stills around you both. It feels as if it’s just you two at this moment. Just you two in this world and nobody else.

Draco's eyes never leave yours as he slowly moves himself to enter you, you gasp at the feeling, he moans at your tightness around him, and his tip moves deeper inside of you. Slowly.

You pull him closer into you, your pussy stretching around him, feeling so full once again, and you cry out to the missed feeling.

His lips connect on yours passionately, “Always so fucking tight for me.”

You nod at his words, kissing his lips, clenching around him, his mouth parting open on yours, you both letting out moans against each other’s lips at the pleasure, and he starts moving his hips against yours.

“I’ve missed you,” you whisper against his lips, licking the inside of his mouth, rocking your hips against his, your noses nudging together, and he lets out a whimper as he bottoms out inside of you.

“I’ve missed you so.. so, fuck, so fucking much.” His lips kiss your face, down your chin, and your neck. Leaving sloppy kisses all over you.

He sucks on your collarbone, leaving more love bites because he knows you love to see them, and you roll your hips against his.

His tongue swirls around your breasts again, your bodies moving together in sync, sweat already coating your skin, and his thrusting gets deeper inside of you. You feel so full right now. Feeling so full of Draco.

Tears prick your eyes as you realize you are making love to Draco Malfoy. He’s making love to you. Maybe this isn’t the first time you make love, but it’s the first time you do after confessing your love to each other.

Draco notices your tears, he kisses them away without pausing his motions, and whispers sweet nothings into your ear.

“You’re perfect, baby. So fucking good for me. Like always.”

He praises you, licking your earlobe and sucking on it, you grip the back of his neck as his words consume you, and you let the tears fall down your cheeks slowly.

You moan out when he wraps one of his arms underneath your waist to hitch you up higher, his angle making his dick go in deeper, and all you feel is bliss. Blissfulness and love all around you. The room smells like vanilla, caramel, and sweet sex.

His lips wrap around yours once again, your pussy squeezing around him, wanting to make him feel you, and he moans into your mouth.

Draco swiftly switches your positions as he’s now sitting down on the bed, his legs parted open, you sitting down on him, hovering over his dick, and you align yourself again with him.

Draco holds your hips with his big hands, looking down at himself as you reach down for him, you hold him steady while you lower yourself down into him. He’s watching himself enter your sweet pussy.

“Fuck,” he whispers at you, admiring the view.

His hands grip your hips while you take him in, squeezing your walls around him, “Fucking shit.” He curses as he watches you take him in deep.

You moan out, eyes rolling back at the sensation, setting your hands down on his shoulders to get a good rhythm, his hips moving into yours, and once you both get a good rhythm.. he pulls you into his lips once more.

You kiss him, mouth open, both moaning together, your hips grinding down on his, feeling him everywhere, he’s filling you up so nicely, your breasts against his chest, his arm wraps around your waist holding you, and his forehead is against yours.

In this position, you could feel him so deeply. Your walls contracting on his dick with every thrust, his moans as your clench only makes you wetter, and you both cry out at the feeling.

His free hand moves in between the space of your bodies, his fingers inch towards your clit, and you whimper when you feel him touch your sensitive bud.

“Draco,” you cry in a whisper, he slowly moves his fingers against you, kissing your neck, and you tilt your head back to let him.

“Look at me,” he says, your body immediately reacts to his words, and you’re facing him. You look fucked and he loves it. He finds the most pleasure in making you feel this way. He loves it.

You make eye contact with him, he licks his lips, and you don’t look away. You’re both panting together, bodies moving as if they are one, and you slowly start feeling the orgasm coming again.

“I’m close,” you whisper, “Are you?” You ask him because you won’t come again until he does. He knows this.

His hips are still meeting yours, soft and slow, but with so much passion. His dick hitting your soft spot inside of you, getting you closer to your release.

He nods, kissing you slowly, and he increases his speed on your clit. You both keep staring at each other, panting only getting louder, whines getting closer together, your legs are shaking slightly, his hips are moving faster and sloppier, and you’re waiting for him to reach his orgasm.

You feel your orgasm at the brink of taking over you when Draco orders, “Come for me.”

Instincly, both of your hands intertwined together tightly.

You cry out as your orgasm takes over your body, shaking entirely, his hips moving into you as he releases into your pussy at the same time you do, and you pull him into a kiss to ride out both of your orgasms.

“I love you,” he whispers into your mouth, his hips still moving underneath you as you both ride out your orgasms, he’s filling you up deep with his cum, and you kiss him harder.

“I love you. I love you. I love you,” you repeat into his mouth, tears running down your face, and you feel tears running down his as well.

“It’s always been you. Always.”

You cry at his words, you both pull away from each other, foreheads leaning together, still connected, and feeling the post-orgasm bliss.

You look into his eyes, wondering how you could never tell how much he loved you, and you smile at him with tears in your eyes.

“You’re my best friend,” he admits with a smile.

He’s so in love with you.

You cry out a giggle, placing your hands on his face, kissing him slowly, “You’re my best friend.” You never thought you’d be in this situation.

Finally.

You can feel it all around. All you feel is love. Love between you and Draco. There’s nothing but silence in this room, but you know he feels it too.

You’re in love with Draco Malfoy.

And he’s in love with you.

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