#She'd kick you out if she ever、ever knew
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Slow Ride
Jake saves her from a creep at the bar. She repays him in the best way she can think and rides him to his favourite song
Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected sex, hand job, fingering, riding, car sex, creampie
There was nobody she hated more than Jake Seresin. Ever since he'd come back to North Island, she hated him. But she hated him because she couldn't hate him.
Working behind the bar in The Hard Deck, she met her share of navy pilots. They were flirts, yes, but they were harmless flirts. But they knew what would happen if they push things, knew the consequences of disrespecting her.
Jake Seresin knew, too. He approached the bar with his usual charming smile and ordered a round of beers. She didn't say much as she got him the round of drinks. But still, even once he had them, Jake stayed to flirt with her.
She didn't flirt back, didn't want him to get the wrong idea. It had happened before, and the guy had flirted with her. He'd taken it too far and had gotten himself kicked out (well, Jake had been the one to throw him out).
There was one thing she liked about Jake, though. The fact that he protected her from the few creeps that had coming into The Hard Deck. He always had an eye on her, even when he was playing pool, making sure that nobody ever made her feel uncomfortable.
That was the thing. Although she hated Jake, he looked out for her. There was a time she was considering quitting her job at The Hard Deck. She loved her job, loved working for penny and loved how polite most of the aviators were. But there were a few guys that made things unbearable.
Until her knight in shining armour stepped in.
Jake didn't always have to step in and save her, but she loved it every time he did.
Like tonight. Cory was a regular, and a regular creep. He'd been kicked out more times than she could count, but he always found his way back in. Always slipped through the cracks and made it to the bar.
Thank God Jake saw him before she did. Even as Cory sat at the bar and whistled for her, Jake was there. He stood beside Cory and cleared his throat. "Can I help you?" He asked, trying to stay between Cory and herself.
Cory rolled his eyes and looked away from Jake. He turned his attention to her, wearing a smile that made her sick to her stomach. "Hey, pretty darlin'," he said, reaching across the bar towards her.
But Jake caught his hand before he could get it any closer. "You're not allowed in here, Cory," Jake said with a sneer as he pushed Cory away. "Get out before I make you get out."
Cory let out a laugh and shook Jake off. "Piss off, Bagman," he said, using the nickname that Jake normally didn't mind.
But Cory hadn't earned the right to use it. And it infuriated him. "Say that again," he challenged.
"Jake," she said from behind the bar, trying to grab his attention. As much as she liked Jake being there, protecting her, she didn't want it to get out of hand.
But Cory ignored Jake. He turned his attention to the poor woman behind the bar. "C'mon, pretty darlin'," he said as he leaned forward. "Let's say we get out of here after this."
The moment his hand reached out and touched the bottom of her skirt, Jake had him out of his seat, holding him up by his collar as he pressed him against the wall. "Fucking try it," he pretty much growled, spit flying into Cory's face.
Everybody in the bar had stopped what they were doing to watch. They watched as Jake dropped him, following Cory out of the bar. He made sure he was gone, too scared to come back before he returned to the bar.
"Sorry about that, sweets," said Jake as he sat on the bar stool and looked at her.
She placed a drink in front of him, one he hadn't ordered. "On the house," she said. "For being my hero."
Jake took it gratefully. He didn't return to the squad, instead staying at the bar with her until she closed up. Even then, even once she'd kicked everybody out, Jake stayed with her. He stayed with her as she cleaned and closed the bar and waited while she locked the doors.
But still, he didn't want to leave her. So, Jake walked her to her car. It wasn't creepy, no. It was comforting.
"I still feel like I should pay you back somehow," she said as she leaned against her car.
Jake let his typical charming smile come onto his face. "That beer was thanks enough, sweets."
Before she knew it, she was opening the back door to her car and gesturing for him to climb in. Jakes heart thundered in his chest as he did just that. He climbed in and scootched over to the furthest seat, giving her space to climb in beside him.
She did just that. Placing her back into the front seat, she climbed in beside Jake. "I wanted to give you a proper thank you," she said almost sheepishly as she leaned forward and grabbed a hold of her phone.
The music that sounded from the phone was a song Jake immediately recognised. She dropped her phone on the dash and climbed into the back. But she didn't sit beside him. No, she settled onto his lap, her arms around his neck.
"Fuck," Jake hissed as he looked at her. There was no telling how much he'd wanted this. "Are we gonna fuck to Slow Ride?"
She played with the hair at the back of his neck as she ground her hips against his own. "I dunno, Hangman. Do you want me to ride you to Slow Ride?"
He swallowed thickly and nodded his head. That was all she needed to hear. Her lips hesitantly attached to his own and his hands settled on her hips. Jake let her take control. He let her set the pace, let her decide how the kiss was going. Before too long she was kissing down his neck and undressing him in the back seat of her car.
Jake couldn't believe it. Here he was, fucking her in his car. He let out a hiss at the feeling of teeth against his neck.
Suddenly, she removed her hands from around his neck and reached between them. She popped the button on his jeans and immediate freed his cock.
Fuck, he was big. But, compared to the rest of him it was unsurprising. She wrapped her fingers around his shaft as she returned her lips to his.
The way Jake was gripping her hips, it was bruising. He reached under her skirt, touching her ass. Squeezing and groping, listening to her little whines and moans as she jacked him off.
The moment her thumb swiped over his tip, Jake ripped the material of the tights covering her ass. He hadn't meant to, just want to pull them down. But he couldn't help it. It was just so fucking good.
As soon as her tights were ripped, it was easy enough to slip his fingers beneath her panties. She was so goddamn wet. And those noises! They were music to Jakes ears.
"Goddamn, sweets," he grunted. The moment he touched her folds, her movements stopped. "So fucking wet f' me." His finger touched her clit and her body fell against his own. "Gonna ride me to Slow Ride?"
Her whines were desperate as she frantically lined his cock up with her entrance. She sank down onto him, eyes rolling back. "Holy Fuck," he grunted.
"Jake," she mewed desperate, her body against his own. He was so goddamn big, she didn't know how she was taking all of him. "Wanna move."
Jake immediately understood. She wanted to ride him, but she couldn’t move. He gripped her hips once again and began moving her, bouncing her on his cock.
It wasn't a slow ride. Not in the slightest. Her cunt just felt too good squeezing him, he couldn't slow down.
When Jake got her moving at her own rhythm, he pulled her shirt over her head, revealing her chest. Jake kissed her. He kissed down her chest until he got to what wasn't being covered by her bra.
As Jake got closer and closer, he wrapped his arms around her moved her body, her body limp against his. Her cries and whines were continuous, unbroken against the skin on his shoulder. She clenched around him, eyes shut as she came. But she was so out of it, so drunk on his cock, she hardly noticed.
"That's it, sweets," Jake mumbled as he kissed the side of her head. "I'm almost there."
And, seconds later Jake was cumming, his climax taking over him as he gripped her tight. "Fuck, fuck," he grunted, stilling her.
But he didnt pull out of her. He kept his arms around him as she laid against his chest, kissing the sweaty skin there. "That was incredible," she whispered as her body began to shake and shiver.
"We'll have to do that again, uh, sweets? He asked abd she nodded in agreement.
#jake seresin#jake seresin imagine#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin fluff#jake seresin smut#jake seresin x reader smut#jake seresin x you#top gun#top gun maverick#jake hangman seresin#hangman imagine#hangman x reader#hangman smut#hangman x you#top gun hangman#top gun imagine
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exactly what he needs, pt. 1 ♡ ⋆｡˚
— pairing: nate jacobs x fem!reader
— type: ficlet (going to be multi-chapter)
— summary: nate asks you for private tutoring, using the excuse that no one can find out, due to who his father is—the über perfectionist & king of east highland. you agree, since you've tutored others, and do so through a school program, at that. as such, he'll be no different than the rest who've needed your help. as time goes on, though, and the gifts, phone calls, and texts begin to pile up, as well as him driving you to and from school, and his near-constant insistence on "hanging out", you wonder if nate ever really needed academic help in the first place., or if it was all a ruse for something more troubling to take place.
— tags: homework, studying, tutoring, nate lusting after/fantasizing about you & wanting to make you wholly his
— tw: misogyny, lying, dollification, sexualization
— word count: 4,144
— a/n: this is going to be part of a series, as indicated above. this post will serve as part 1. i promise it will get juicier going forward, i just needed to lay some groundwork for the reader & nate.
After McKay's party and Maddy's fucking another guy in his pool for all to see—completely humiliating and emasculating him—Nate was done with her. No, beyond done. He'd wasted how much time, money, and effort on her? All for her to turn out to be the whore he'd always known her to be.
She was always too loud. Too attention-seeking. Too selfish and spoiled. The kind of girl who used the excuse of being "brutally honest" and a refusal to "take any shit" just to be a bitch to whoever she pleased. And she always got away with it, too.
Well, not this time. Not with him. She was going to learn what being on her own finally felt like.
Besides, she'd never been his type. Not really.
She was nice to look at, sure, and he'd thought her loyal. How fucking stupid he'd been to do so. But that was all she'd had going for her in the end.
And then there had been Cassie—one of the biggest mistakes he'd ever made had been hooking up with her. He'd thought her different than who she turned out to be. She pretended to be so pure and wide-eyed, when in reality she was fucking psychotic and obsessed with him. He couldn't stomach that level of desperation from a girl.
The night she had completely lost it in his bedroom, screaming about how "crazy" she was had been the last straw.
And the fact she'd so easily betrayed Maddy? Who knew how long before she did the same to him. That was the last thing he needed to worry about.
Nate leans back, barely paying attention to what Ms. Clark is teaching the class at-present. His attention is instead focused on you.
You, who's been there since Nate was five-years-old and in kindergarten. You, who's always been quiet and soft-spoken, reserved and smart, sweet and shy, and who has no reputation whatsoever to speak of—he'd even gone so far as to check for you on SlutPages, and you'd been, unsurprisingly, nowhere to be found. You were the very definition of innocent.
You, who didn't dress like a slut or go out of your way to get attention. Hell, you didn't even go to parties or football games. Not that he'd ever seen you at either, at least.
He may've looked for you in the stands last Friday night, for whatever reason, despite knowing you wouldn't be there. But he had hoped, even for a moment.
Personality-wise? You were perfect for him. Exactly what he needed; had needed all along. He could kick himself for not seeing it sooner. But better late than never that he did so now.
The way you dressed? He wasn't sure how he felt about it. It suited you well-enough, sure, but he liked to imagine you in cute babydoll dresses, with your hair down and softly curled, a pair of ballet flats on your feet, as opposed to your usual sweaters or blouses, with plaid or high-waisted skirts, your hair typically in a high-ponytail or bun.
He saw your potential, your beauty. Your potential beauty, even.
He knew he needed an excuse to talk to you again after all these years, as he couldn't remember the last time he'd done so—the beginning of middle-school perhaps? He knew you tutored, so he chose the subject you seemed most passionate about—history—and his plan was set.
He spends the remainder of class watching and admiring you. Your delicate handwriting, the soft look in your eyes, your dainty hands, slim shoulders, and your perfect posture. He becomes so engrossed that he jolts when the bell rings, signaling the end of class, ripped from his daydreams of walking down the halls, your hand in his, soft feminine dresses hanging from your frame, your hair falling in soft waves down your back as every guy sees that you're his now.
As every guy realizes that they can look, but never touch, as he presses kiss after kiss to your pink lips, your soft body pressed between his and the lockers, you quietly giggling as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear as he walks you to your next class.
Ever-polite, you wait until nearly everyone else has rushed out of the classroom before you follow suit.
Nate's already standing behind you and notes how cute it is—your complete obliviousness to his presence. It was refreshing, actually, for a girl not to be throwing herself at him for once.
"Y/N," he says, softly.
You jump, nearly dropping your books. Before you can speak, wondering why he's wanting your attention in the first place—as the two of you never speak—he reaches out, gently taking your books from your arms. He then nods his head toward the door. "I'll walk you to your locker. There's something I'd like to talk to you about."
Completely bewildered, you simply head in the direction of the door and go to your locker. You fumble with the dial for a moment, screwing up the combination the first time, but thankfully getting it on the second.
You take your books from him, placing them all back where they belong before turning to him. "Thank you"
He immediately likes how polite you are. "Welcome," he replies.
As you ready your materials for your next class, you speak again. "So, what did you want to talk about?"
He leans his side against the locker next to yours. How had he never noticed that you were just a few rows down from his own before?
"Before I tell you, I need you to promise me it stays between us. I don't want other people finding out."
It was both a truth and a lie. The lie being that it was, more than anything else, a test. A test to see if even this early on, you'd simply make yourself agreeable to him, if you'd keep a secret simply because he asked you to.
He wants to know how much you'll prod before just caving and giving him what he wants.
You look at him, then. "I..." You trail off for a moment. The first time he speaks to you in how many years and that's the first thing he says to you?
He smirks in understanding of your hesitation. "It's nothing bad, I promise. I'm not about to ask you to hold drugs for me or something."
A bit of reassurance—that much he could offer without issue.
"Okay, I promise."
He fills with satisfaction. Already he can tell you're easily submissive. He hopes for as much, at least.
"I'm uh...I'm not doing too well in history. I got a D on the last test, and I'm close to failing the class as a whole. I was wondering if you'd be willing to tutor me?"
You turn fully toward him, then, filling with understanding. He's ashamed.
You give him a kind, sympathetic look and he adores you all the more for it.
"You don't need to be embarrassed about asking for help, Nate. It's why the school has a tutoring program. You're doing the right thing for yourself." You remove a flyer for said program from your locker, placing your heart-shaped magnet back where it goes. "Here, there's a list of resources and tutors for—"
He immediately cuts you off, shaking his head, placing the flyer back under that same magnet. Because of course you have pastel-colored magnets of hearts and clouds and flowers on the inside of your locker.
He looks at you. "I asked you for a reason. It needs to be kept a secret for a reason. I mean, you know who my dad is: King-Asshole-of-East-Highland. If he found out that I'm almost failing one of my classes, and much more asking for outside help, instead of just taking care of the problem myself..."
He shakes his head again, hoping the my-dad-is-too-tough-on-me-and-expects-nothing-less-than-perfection routine has worked.
You shift from one foot to the other, unable to understand how anyone could see their child taking the steps to actually get help as a bad thing, as a failing, or short-coming. But Cal Jacobs did seem to be nothing if not perfect. Perfect image, perfect job, perfect business, family, home—you name it.
"Why me?" You ask, genuinely curious. There's a whole roster of tutors signed up with the school, not to mention a couple teachers who also offer academic help after-hours a few times a week.
"I've known you my entire life. I trust you to keep this just between the two of us."
Simple enough answer, you think.
You close your locker then. "What subject?"
"History."
Your favorite one, at least. You'd never been the best at math. Had he said it instead, he'd be finding someone else, whether he liked it or not. You'd just get him worse grades in the end, if nothing else.
"Ok, we could um...we could meet at the library. They have study rooms for—"
He interrupts you again. "No, it needs to be your place, if that's ok. I don't want to risk anyone seeing me getting help in public."
Once again, a truth and a lie. More than anything he just wanted—no, needed—to get you alone and all to himself.
"Oh." You hesitate for a moment, but don't really have an excuse as to why you can't do it at your house. So, you relent. "That's fine, I guess. When did you want to start?"
"Today, if that's cool with you."
That soon, you think.
You nod. "Today is fine." Your brows furrow. "Do you know where I live? If not, I could give you my address?"
He smirks. "Or I could just drive us there. I have my truck. You won't have to take the bus."
Won't that arouse suspicion among his friends? The two of you suddenly being seen together? "Your friends won't ask questions?"
He'd not thought of that. Stupid. He simply shrugs, pretending not to care. "If they do, I'll just tell them to mind their own business."
You raise a brow for a moment, doubting they will, but suppose it doesn't really matter to you either way. It's his secret that he's desperate to keep, not yours.
The bell rings, letting you know you have two minutes to get to your next class. "Ok, I'll see you after school then."
"See you then," he replies with a smile.
Once school has let out for the day, you nearly go to get on the bus, then remember just before walking up the first step, that you're being driven home by Nate today.
It's strange to think about: you, with Nate Jacobs, in his truck.
Even when you were little the two of you had never exactly been friends. But you suppose that can always change. Not that you're sure that you want it to.
It seems like wherever Nate goes, drama follows. First with Maddy and whatever had happened weeks ago at McKay's party. Something had happened the night of the fair—something bad—but no one would talk about it. And then he'd apparently gotten with Cassie, which was...a recipe for disaster, to put it plainly.
You don't like drama. Don't like the people who seem to thrive on it. And he certainly seems to be one of them. Someone who's always in the middle of it, at least.
Then you tell yourself you're just being silly. You're going to be tutoring him, that's all. You doubt it will ever even build up to friendship.
Once you've made it into the parking lot proper, you begin to scan it, looking down row after row of vehicles until you see Nate watching you, a smirk on his face as he leans back against the front of his Dodge pickup.
You wait as a car passes, then finally come to stand in front of him, suddenly feeling nervous.
"You ready?" He asks.
As he looks down at you, you only just now realize how much of a disparity there is between your heights. You look up at his towering form, suddenly incredibly self-conscious of how short you are. Somehow it makes you feel childlike...
Meanwhile, Nate absolutely eats it up. It'd be all too easy to toss you around on a bed like a ragdoll, he thinks.
Finally, you nod.
You both walk around to the passenger side, but before you can ask him—your brows now furrowed—what he's doing, he opens the door for you to get in. "Oh, thank you," you say, climbing into the oversized truck.
Who needs vehicles these big...
"Welcome," he says, shutting the door.
As you buckle yourself in, setting your backpack at your feet, you watch as he walks around the front of the truck to get in and internally cringe, wanting to try and climb down into the floorboards to hide, when you see Cassie staring directly at you. If looks could kill, you would've been dead instantly.
You want to get out and tell her it's not what she thinks it is, but you're broken from your staring straight back at her when Nate closes his door and the truck revs to life. After buckling himself in, he looks at you, noticing you've now gone pale.
No way you considered him opening your door as him having already gone too far.
"Everything okay?"
You look at him. "Cassie is staring at us. I think she might think that we're-"
He puts the truck into gear, pulling out of the lot. "Who gives a damn what she thinks."
Once the two of you are on the road, you clear your throat. "Do you know where I live?"
In truth, he doesn't. "No, sorry, you'll have to give me directions."
And you do, until, finally, he pulls into your front driveway.
You're not sure why your stomach is full of butterflies. Perhaps because no one comes over to your house. Ever. You're almost always here alone. Your dad is the only parent you have left—your mother having signed over full-custody of you to him when you were too young to even remember her, and he's always away for work—so hosting company isn't exactly a regular thing.
The house is clean, and you'd also recently been grocery shopping, so it isn't as if you have anything to worry about.
The two of you exit his truck and you make your way to the front door, quickly unlocking it.
Once you've both entered the house, you watch nervously as he takes in the living room.
Your house isn't anything special. It has all the necessities for living and comfort, but it isn't like something out of a magazine.
You tell yourself you're fine with that.
You silently slip off your shoes and Nate does the same, following your lead. You then step onto the plush carpet and turn back to him, still standing before the door. "I'm going to go change and then we can start. The dining room is this way," you say, nodding your head to the right.
You walk through the entryway, into the aforementioned room. You set your backpack down on a chair, then walk straight ahead, through the kitchen, and into your bedroom around the corner.
It's only a moment, but while you change, Nate snoops.
He notices how little your house seems to be lived-in. How neat and tidy and damn-near spotless it is.
And that the two of you are alone.
He silently unzips your backpack, quickly rifling through it. A couple textbooks, some fantasy novel, and your binder. He wants to go through every folder, but refrains, knowing he doesn't have the time and it's too big of a risk. He's fairly certain he won't find anything interesting in it anyway.
Finally, he sits, pulling his history book and tonight's homework out of his own.
When you finally enter the dining room again, Nate looks up. He isn't sure what kind of outfit he'd been expecting, but sweatpants and a light-purple t-shirt hadn't been it.
He wishes you'd worn something that shows off the beautiful body you have instead. Not...that.
He mentally shrugs. You're in your home, trying to be comfortable. He actually really likes that you hadn't put on something meant to impress him.
You aren't fake. Another thing he really likes about you. Not that he's making a mental checklist, or anything.
He sees you eye the other side of the table, but before you can take another step toward it, he pushes out the chair next to him with his foot.
You stop for a moment, then decide sitting next to him is fine, too. So you take the seat he's offered you and notice he's already pulled out his history book and the worksheet you'd both been given for homework as well.
You'd already done yours during your free period.
You slide the book over to yourself and flip it open to the chapter your class is currently working through.
"You're in luck, because the period of history we're going over right now is actually my favorite."
He rests an arm on the wooden dining table, turning toward you. "Oh yeah? What's that?"
You raise a brow. "You don't even know what time period we're working through?" You ask with a smile.
He grins in response. "To be completely honest, I don't really give a shit about history. I know, I know. The whole, if you forget, you're going to repeat it shit. I guess I just don't believe any of that."
"I don't think it's that serious. But if you hope to pass and get past junior year, having the credit for this core class is imperative. And it's the Dark Ages, by the way. Also known as the medieval period."
He snickers. "Imperative, huh?"
You withdraw into yourself. He's making fun of you.
He quickly notices the smile disappear from your face and realizes how he'd sounded. "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to mock you. It's just... Nobody talks the way you do. Not at East Highland, at least."
You pretend to take interest in the book sitting before you. "And what way is that?"
"I don't know. Intelligently, I guess." He says it with a shrug.
You give a small smile at that, and he knows he's off the hook.
He sets the worksheet Ms. Clark has given for homework between the two of you.
"Do you know all of this?"
You look at him and nod. "I already got mine done."
"Of course you did. So," he looks down at it. "What is the name of the English civil war fought between the years of 1455-1487?"
He looks at you then.
You glance down to the book. "I don't know, what was the name of it?"
He shakes his head, a playful look on his face as he begins to skim through the pages. He looks up to you, then. "I could just Google all of this."
You lean back in your seat. "You could. But the point of reading the material and studying it, is so you have a chance of actually remembering it when there's a test. Hopefully for even longer, like, once you've graduated as well."
He shrugs again. "It's not all bad, I guess. Also gives me an excuse to talk to you."
He was putting his motives right out in the open now. But instead of you seeing this study session, this request for tutoring as exactly that—a motive to get close to you and make you his—you blush.
You don't know what to say in response, so you just give him the answer. "It's the War of the Roses."
He stares at you for a moment longer, then writes down what you've said.
He leans back. "So, why is this your favorite period of history?"
You look at him. "I guess the romanticism of it, even if it wasn't an entirely romantic time period. Civil war, the plague, men beheading their wives... Did you know most high-fantasy takes its inspiration from medieval Europe?"
He shakes his head, content to continue listening to you talk about something you're passionate about. He likes the way you light up when you do so.
You grow quiet. "Sorry, that sounded stupid."
He shakes his head, resting his arm on the back of your seat. "I don't think so. I may not care for history, but I think it's sweet that you do. I mean, I'm into football. But I'm sure that, just because you're not into it, you'd never call me being on the team stupid."
You look at him. "No, I wouldn't."
He looks over the next question. "Have you ever been to any of our games?"
You shake your head. "Sports aren't really my thing."
"Not everybody comes for the actual game. Some just come to have a good time; get out of the house." He looks at you. "We have another game next Friday. Think you'd be interested?"
He can just imagine it now: you in the stands, your hair in pigtails, wearing one of his old jerseys, cheering him on. And then you running into his arms as he scores the winning touchdown, wrapping your legs around his middle as he lifts you, you bringing your lips down to his.
You telling him how proud you are of him.
You shrug, now feeling awkward at wanting to tell him no. So you don't. "Maybe."
Better than a no, he thinks. He has nearly two-weeks to convince you into a yes.
Once Nate has completed his worksheet and you've checked it for any wrong answers—he'd surprisingly only had a couple—he packs up his things to head home.
You walk him to the door. "You did really good today. Only two wrong answers."
He slips on his shoes. "Well, I have a good teacher."
You smile, letting out a small laugh. "We'll see just how good after our next test."
He clears his throat. "So uh, I was thinking, maybe I could pick you up tomorrow morning? I could start driving you to and from school as a whole. I'm sure my truck beats riding a bus twice every day."
You blanch. "N-no, it's fine, really. I don't mind. And not that you have to continue doing it, but driving me home is more than enough. I don't want to be any trouble."
He shakes his head. "No trouble. It's on my way, really. I'd like to."
He dislikes your hesitancy, even if he understands it. He knows he's coming on too strong right now, but he feels like he can't fucking help himself.
After sitting there with you for the past hour, listening to your voice, smelling your sweet scent, you blushing and laughing at the things he said—not to mention him having to excuse himself to the bathroom at one point to get the erection you'd given him to go back down—he knew he needed more of you. Afternoon study sessions weren't going to be nearly enough.
He leans against the doorway, refusing to leave until you've given him what he wants—how little do you know that's soon to be your future as a whole. Him not stopping until you've caved to him. "Listen, I'm the one who's the burden here. I know tutoring is a thing you do anyway, but not like this. I really appreciate it; you have no idea how much. This is just some small way of me trying to say thank you. Of trying to repay you."
You shift from one foot to the other. "Only if you're sure..."
"Positive."
He fishes his phone out of his pocket. "We should probably exchange numbers, just incase something comes up one morning and one of us is sick, or a I get a flat, or whatever. Or if one of us has to leave school early."
You nod. "Ok."
After you give him your number, he shoots you a text. A simple 'hi'.
You smile at him. "I got it."
He puts his phone back away, determining that today was full of small victories, bringing him a step closer to making you his. "I can pick you up a little after seven. That work for you?"
You nod, your stomach now full of butterflies again. Not because of some crush you'd suddenly developed in the last hour. No. You were worried about vile rumors being spread around the school.
You getting into his truck today, you were sure, had probably already bred one or two of the vicious things.
What the hell have you gotten yourself into?
You nod. "That's fine."
He gives you a smile. "See you then."
"See you," you reply as he leaves.
You watch from the front door as he drives away.
#fic: euphoria (nate jacobs x reader)#nate jacobs x reader#nate jacobs x you#nate jacobs x y/n#euphoria x reader#nate jacobs imagine
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good days aren't easy to come by
#simblr#ts4 legacy#valentine gen 4#fun fact for context on why i care so much abt him finally choosing to play the piano on his own#but it's gonna get Long so strap in#basically. the guitar he used to have had been with him since he was like...... my god. probably about 15#he bought it at a yard sale for pennies from an older woman#it belonged to her late son originally and it wasn't even . supposed to be a part of the sale in the first place. she just took a liking to#devin and figured that really it's better in the hands of someone who would use it than for it to collect dust in her garage forever#and he couldn't really practice at home. his parents... are not exactly the kindest people you've ever seen#he was too afraid of them destroying or throwing it away so he'd sneak off to god knows where and learn how to play it from old#youtube videos on his busted up phone#it quickly became Everything to him. his most prized possession. and it wasn't a shitty guitar either. the son was a professional musician#that's how ellie and devin met in the first place. he was playing at the market she used to sneak out to in the evenings to#and she instantly knew . this boy is going places and really they might as well go together#enough backstory of the backstory. long story short: he was struggling to make rent eventually and was out of vinyls to pawn off#so he had no choice left. it was either that or he'd get kicked out along with his sister. who was still struggling a lot w/ addiction#so he sold it. and it broke him. he's literally just not been the same since losing it#his sister stole him a guitar from a music shop she'd go to sometimes but it just wasn't the same and he had not played an instrument since#until now anyway#still not a guitar. but maybe someday#or he can find his old one and buy it again.........#lmfao if you made it here congrats. you win nothing bc im broke but i do respect you
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discussion of transgenderism with mother 50 people injured 29 in critical condition
#sam smith is one of her favorite artists so uh#she was talking to me about them winning a grammy and kim petras' speech#she said that she watched the speech and that kim petras said that her mom supported her and believed that she was a girl#she was like she's transgender right? I was like yep! what uh.. what do you think about that#she was like. about what#I said about her being transgender#she was like oh it's cool! I don't mind at all#OKAY? GOOD???#I didn't know she uh. knew about that stuff. this is rich coming from someone who told me she'd kick me out and disown me if I ever said I#was a guy. but you know what. maybe it's positive character growth#for the record I don't... think she knows sam smith is non-binary. romanian doesn't really have a gender neutral singular third person#pronoun#I don't think I have it in me to explain non-binary identities to her. not tonight. maybe in like 10 years when she comes to visit#but she really likes sam smith so I'm really glad we're making these strides. where maybe she can okay with someone who's gnc
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Calling For Help - LN
Summary: Max F's little sister is sensible and responsible. Or at least that's what Lando thought till he gets a phone call asking for help.
This isn't the redemption request of my mess up, I had the idea before the request got sent in. I will start that request correction soon.
Lando being back in England isn't really unusual since McLaren is still based there and he has to go back to the tech centre quite often due to that.
Not many people know when he's back.
Few to say the least.
But when he gets a call from y/n's phone at nearly 3 in the morning, which he'd ignore if he wasn't awake playing Halo anyway.
"Lando?"
"Hey, y/n. What's up?" Lando asks while still partially focused on his game.
"Umm...I'm in a bit of trouble and I need your help. But you can't tell Max, like you really really can't tell him." Y/n states clearly very nervous to even be testing to see If Lando would betray his friend.
Now usually Lando wouldn't abuse his power in these situations, but there's been something he's been wanting to do with.
"I'll agree on two conditions. I don't think your reason for asking for help is ridiculous, and you agree to a date." Lando states earning a grumble that he knew was coming. "So spill what happened and we'll see if I'm feeling generous."
Lando knows there's a risk of Max not being impressed that his life-long best friend wants to date his little sister. But Lando could always come up with the argument that they'd officially be family if her and y/n get married which might help in his favour. He just has to stay away
"You are an utter twat." Y/n grumbles before another stern voice chimes in. "I need you to pick me up from the police station. My friend was driving drunk and I'm...not entirely sober, but I was in the passenger seat but allegedly I was drunk and disorderly."
Now it shouldn't be funny and no doubt if Max every discovers this happened, she'll be in so much trouble, she'll regret ever trusting Lando. But she'd not resort to him if he wasn't trusted.
"So the date?"
"Yes!"
"Alright, just tell me the station or get the officer to tell me and I'll be there soon." Lando chuckles before the phone is handed to a very unimpressed sounding officer who gives him the address of the station.
Apparently she's just getting a warning since she is young and never offended before, but because of how drunk she is they don't just want to let her walk out without there being someone there to get her home safely.
"Hey, princess." Lando greets mockingly as she's uncuffed. Certainly not an image that Lando thought he'd see in his lifetime.
Y/n has always been the sibling who didn't risk passing the limit. She even stopped Max going beyond it a couple times. But to say the least, she was always the least like to end up in a jail cell in handcuffs.
"You sobered up a little?" He asks while placing his jacket over her shoulders since she's really not dressed for the cool night air.
"A little. I'm so sorry, Lando...I just didn't know who else to call. I tried a couple other people but they didn't pick up." Y/n sighs making him nod a little before he smiles at her.
"I'm actually happy to hear you're living a little. I mean maybe don't get caught by the police while you friend drives drunk-or call me next time if you don't have a safe way of getting home."
"Safety wasn't at the forefront of my mind...I'm not sure anything was really at the front of my mind. Aside from getting to bed." Something that is now so overdue she feels the hangover kicking in. Definitely not something anyone should have to endure with no sleep whatsoever. "Can we get something to eat? I think my stomach is trying to digest the rest of me."
"Let me guess. Chicken nuggets happy meal and a double cheese burger." Lando grins since he's known her hungover order for years now after having witnessed Max try to nurse her hangovers ever since she turned 18. Though Lando does suspects she did actually break the law like most underage teens.
"It's annoying that you know that." Y/n states while Lando just turns to look at her.
"So what happened? You guys didn't get into crash, did you?" Lando asks making her sigh softly before she shakes her head quickly. "Ok, food is clearly a priority."
He makes quick work of finding a McDonald's which is open and he buys her the food, which he knows she'd usually fight about if she wasn't so hungry and just flat out exhausted. She does offer him some fries which he excepts.
"So Y/n Fewtrell, what would you like to do for our first date?" Lando asks making her groan and shake her head.
"Can this wait till I'm not so destroyed? I feel like shit." Y/n pouts while reaching for the burger. "Actually where are you taking me?"
"We'll just go back to my place and get you setup in the spare room. It's late and dropping you off at home is only going to make people wonder where you've been." Lando sighs while actually checking their surroundings to make sure they are on the right road since he did sort of zone out.
Once they arrive at his place, Lando does give her some clothes to borrow before he sort of just tucks her in.
"I'll see you later."
"Lando...thanks for picking me up and helping me out. You didn't have to but it means a lot to me. Really."
"You know I'd help you out whenever you need."
-
Y/n doesn't reappear from the room until nearly 6pm the next day and while Lando did have plans, he's cancelled them to make sure he is there when she wakes up.
"Morning, sunshine." Lando grins while she walks into his gaming room, clearly in search of him. "Did you sleep well?"
"Better than I deserve." Y/n pouts before Lando moves back in his seat and pats his lap earning a look from her but she sighs and accepts sitting in his lap. "What you are playing?"
"Spider-man 2. They let me have early access for promo." Lando smiles while she seems already invested. "Yeah, we can play together."
"Really? I'm not going to get in the way?" Slight side effect of her brother being a bit of a dick when in the heat of the moment.
"No. You won't get in the way." Lando promises while she smiles as he hands her a controller.
The two of them play the game, really beginning to enjoy it. But an interruption comes in the form of the one person who maybe shouldn't see them in such a position.
"Oh fuck off. Fuck off!" Max exclaims moving back out the room when he walks in and finds his sister on his best friend's lap. "Stop it."
It takes a couple minutes but he reappears to find Lando looking very proud and y/n looking very terrified.
"Why?"
"I'm sorry...I got arrested for being drunk and disorderly when y/f/n got pulled over to drunk driving. I called Lando to come get me and as part of it, he said I'd have to go on a date." Y/n rambles out, not leaving out a single detail to save either of them.
"You got arrested?!" Max exclaims with laughter, apparently seeing that as the main focus of the whole thing. "And for the record, so long as I don't have to hear evidence of what happens between you and not witness anything more than a hug. We'll be on good terms."
"We haven't even been on a date yet." Y/n murmurs while Lando looks at me for a moment.
"But we have his blessing anyway." Lando grins wrapping his arms around her and hugging her tightly before laughing at Max's annoyed expression. "Want to play Spider-Man 2?"
"Yes. But I get first choice-oh and if you ever blackmail my too-honest-for-her-own-good sister into going on a date with you, I'll tell your parents and your sisters."
Lando's sisters, also known as y/n's life long best friends and another hurdle Lando had to consider when pretending that he wasn't attracted to y/n all these years. He's only a couple years younger than him being 21, but Lando has had a crush on her since they were kids and he didn't even know what a crush was.
Thankfully he's covered it well.
"Got it." Lando nods while he smiles at his best friend then handing him a controller. "I'll let the two of you play for my affection."
"I wouldn't-"
"I'm not fighting your future husband for your attention." Y/n states with her more sober personality peeking through while Max nods knowing that was coming. "But I am not moving from this position because you're surprisingly comfortable to sit on."
"Awww...Sorry, Max." Lando jokes as Max finds his own seat to join in.
#f1#fanfic#formula 1#lando#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris x y/n#lando x reader#norris#ln4 fluff#ln4 imagine#ln4 x reader#ln4#mclaren formula 1#McLaren
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kiss me, try to fix it - alexia putellas x reader
pairing: alexia putellas x lioness!reader
warnings: mentions of cheating, angst (like you guys wanted, i hope)
notes: this is pretty much just a blurb but i do have a pt2 in mind if you guys wanted it? lmk :)
Alexia awoke to a distant noise of things being thrown and landing on the carpet of your hotel room with soft thuds.
You knew that she would have a banging headache, that she would be full nausea and regret in her stomach, but you didn't bother to be quiet as you packed your things with anger cursing through your veins.
The plan for this morning had been to mend your girlfriend's hangover. Alexia wasn't a drinker and you had been shocked when you'd first seen Ona's story, which showed Alexia happily sipping on whatever alcoholic drink. Another thing about your girlfriend, however, was that she didn't do things halfheartedly, and so you had promised her yesterday, via very confusing, drunken text messages, that the rest of the Spanish girls should get her to England's hotel so that you would be able to soothe her in the morning, hold her hair, massage her scalp - whatever she needed.
Now though, the plan had changed. When you had seen those pictures surfacing on Twitter, half asleep, of Alexia kissing Jenni during their party, you had practically jumped away from your girlfriend's sleeping body. You had looked at her for a bit, mesmerized by her beauty even when her makeup was slowly coming off, staining the white pillow, her hair disheveled and her snores far from pleasant. Then, the realization had kicked in. Alexia had cheated on you. The Alexia who was so full of love for you, who was so soft for you and no one else - the Alexia who had promised to never hurt you had cheated on you. That's when the throwing had begun.
"Amor? What are you doing?", she mumbled into her pillow, eyes barely open. You huffed. Of course, she was confused. She hadn't expected you to know. The fact that she had even had the nerves to climb into your bed and snuggle up to you after what she'd done-
This Alexia, she wasn't the Alexia you knew.
"I'm leaving", you chuckled in disbelief. She couldn't possibly be surprised at this, could she?
Despite your desperate attempts to compose yourself, tears were dwelling in your eyes. How had the woman you'd loved for so many years just... crushed your relationship in her fists? Did you mean nothing to her?
Just a few hours prior to her infidelity, she'd been on the pitch with you, comforting you as best as she could after your dream of the World Cup trophy had slipped through your fingers. She'd held you as tears washed down your face, rocked you back and forth as you'd tried to catch your breath, she had asked you to swap shirts, dressing you in the fabric she'd just won the World Cup in, just because her perfume from before the match still lingered somewhere beneath her sweat and tears, knowing that it would bring you comfort.
And then, when you had turned down her offer to come to the afterparty, wanting nothing more than to be with your fellow lionesses as you dealt with the night's loss, she had gone to kiss her best friend. She had gone to ruin your relationship - your happiness, all the while wearing your England shirt, your number, your last name on her back.
It left you wondering. Had you ever meant anything to her?
You halted in your moves for a second, desperate to blink away the tears threatening to escape. Alexia moved from the bed, rubbing her eyes in confusion, crouching down beside you. Her hand landed on your shoulder, but you shook it away as though it burned your skin through the fabric of the Spanish jersey. At the realization that you were still wearing it, you stood up, pulling yourself out of the shirt and throwing at her angrily. All the while, Alexia stood, watching you in disbelief.
"Amor, what is going on?"
"Don't call me that!", you yelled back at her, grabbing the next best shirt you could find from your almost packed suitcase and tugging it on.
"Hey, whatever it is, we can fix it!", Alexia pleaded, her hand landing on your chin as you stared at the carpet beneath you. You allowed yourself to melt into her touch just this once, wanting nothing more than to dwell in her comfort, to let her hold you once more, to hear all of her excuses and just forgive her, because that was the easy thing to do. Her other hand cupped the other side of your face, gently lifting it for you to stare into her eyes. The only emotion you could read in the soft green was love.
Slowly, she inched closer towards you until her soft lips landed on yours. The taste of alcohol lingered, along with that of toothpaste. It almost made you chuckle. Had the girls made Alexia brush her teeth last night? Just after-
When you realized whom these lips had kissed last night, you pulled away.
"Ale, what the fuck?!", you yelled, and allowed the tears to fall this once. She was making your head spin. Dumbfounded, the both of you stood staring at each other, Alexia's hands retrieving from your cheeks immediately.
"Amor, what is going on?"
You barely noticed the way that Alexia actually didn't have a clue of what you were on about, to blinded by fury to realize her confused expression, her genuine worry, the fact that there wasn't a trace of guilt.
"Don't call me that!", you yelled once more, but it came out as more of a plea. You weren't one to beg in arguments, but you knew that if she kept this facade up, if she kept this close to you, if she kept telling you how the two of you could fix this, you would actually believe her, melt into her touch, do whatever she asked of you. You would take the easy route, because it meant staying with Alexia. Staying with the woman you loved more than yourself. But you couldn't. You knew, somewhere in the back of your mind, that you deserved better.
So, you packed your last things together, not bothering to pack the jersey of your first tournament final as England captain, knowing Alexia had stained it with infidelity, possibly the only mark your washing machine couldn't ever get rid of, and left her there- confused, hurt, possibly angered at your lack of explanation. But it didn't matter to you. It was early still, but you banged the door closed, only to find Lucy standing in the hallway.
"What's all this yelling about?", she mumbled, still dressed in her pajamas. When she noticed your packed luggage and the pained expression on your face, her expression changed from annoyed to-
Pity.
That was all it took for you to break down in her arms.
#woso imagine#woso one shot#woso writer#barcelona femeni#barca femeni x reader#barca women#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas#alecia putellas one shot
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Hi cute! how are you? I hope you're well! You could write about Az returning with Feyre from training and they are talking and Az is so unfocused that he doesn't notice that there is another person in the room besides the ic, so y/n screams and runs out to hug Az and they're over. falling to the ground haha they are best friends who have feelings for each other. Y/n had been away on a mission and didn't know Feyre but she knew her from EVERYTHING Az had been telling her jandjsmcjsldk thanks baby
First request! Super sweet ask and a great idea :)
Gadzooks - Azriel x Reader
masterlist | part 2
Summary: After weeks away on a mission, Y/n returns to her family in the Night Court, with the addition of a new member. And thanks to Azriel, she feels like they've known each other forever.
Meaning: "an exclamation of surprise or annoyance"
Word Count: 658
Warnings: None.
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"A letter has arrived for you, m'lady."
Y/n's head drifted from the paperwork before her, to the Peregryn male situated at the door. She motioned for him to come forward, receiving the envelope swiftly.
Once the male had left, Y/n tore into the white paper.
Dear Y/n
So much has happened since you left for Dawn. Feyre is officially living in Velaris, and I've taken over her training regiment. Let's just say her technique could use some work.
She's great though, perfectly suited for Rhys. If only the stubborn bastard would finally confess to her that they're mates.
I miss you. Cassian is as annoying as ever, and Rhys is so busy fretting over Feyre, so there isn't anyone to really talk to.
I hope everything is going well in Dawn, and I can't wait to see you again.
Your loyal friend, Azriel.
Y/n smiled as she finished reading through the letter. Over the many weeks that she had spent in Dawn Court, Azriel had kept her up to date on all things Feyre-related. From their first meeting, to the trauma she'd endured, Y/n knew it all.
Perhaps it was time she returned home. It was coming up on three months since she'd left, and Thesan seemed to no longer require her services. Yes, it was time to return to Velaris.
-------------
"You did well today," Azriel said as he and Feyre strode through the halls of the House of Wind.
"I feel like I'm getting stronger. The regimes no longer hurt so much," she laughed.
"Well then, maybe they could do with an upgrade," Azriel stated, lips twitching upwards into a smirk.
"Don't you dare, Shadowsinger."
Azriel was about to open his mouth in retort, when a solid object collided with his body, propelling him towards the floor.
Azriel would have been concerned regarding his shadows' lack of vigilence, or even his own instincts having not kicked it, had it not been for the warm vanilla scent that filled his nose.
"Y/n..." he mutter, arms wrapping around her warm body. "When did you get back?"
"A little while ago," she muttered into his neck, hot breath hitting his skin in the most delectable way.
"I missed you," he whispered.
"I missed you too, Az."
The heartfelt moment didn't last long, courtesy of his brother.
"If you two lovebirds are done, I believe introductions are in order."
Azriel glared daggers into Cassian's skull, doing his damnedest to keep the blush that crept up his neck, at bay.
He helped Y/n up, hands lingering on her waist for a second longer than what just 'friends' would do.
Rhysand cleared his throat, stepping towards the female at his side.
"Feyre, meet Y/n, the last member of our inner circle, and my most trusted emissary. Y/n meet Feyre..."
"I've heard all about you," Y/n stated, mouth spread wide in a smile. "All good things of course."
Feyre's face grew warm, and her eyes met Azriel's.
"Is that so?"
Y/n nodded, taking a cautious step forward, before wrapping an arm around Feyre, guiding her towards the kitchen.
"Indeed it is, and what better way to get to know me than over a cup of tea. Has Azriel mentioned I make a mean cup of tea?"
"He has not," Feyre stated, raising an eyebrow in his direction.
"Hm, how rude," Y/n huffed, smiling at Azriel as the pair disappeared from sight.
He felt his stomach flutter at the sight of that beautiful smile. It had been too long since he'd last seen it.
"You know, you complain about me not confessing to Feyre, but I've had to watch you tiptoe around Y/n for over a century," Rhys drawled, a teasing smirk on his obnoxiously handsome face.
"No one asked you," Azriel grumbled, heading in the direction the two females had gone, in hopes of escaping more of his brother's playful jabs.
------------
And I'm back!
it feels so good to be able to write again, and to be able to bring your requests to life. A reminder that my inbox is open to all your dreams and wishes ;)
Until next time lovelies :)
#acotar#azriel#azriel shadowsinger#azriel x reader#azriel x you#rhysand#cassian#feyre archeron#dawn court#thesan
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closed-door policy || p2
Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem!Reader
Summary: You were more than friends but less than lovers. Where does that put the both of you in the spectrum? You were friends-with-benefits, sure, you guys are anyway, but a part of you wanted something real.
Words: 2.8k
Warnings: light smut
a/n: so sorry for very late update! i got caught up in work and school. its kicking my ass. but anyway, here it is.
part 3 || masterlist.
Love.
Oh, how Wednesday loved to hate it.
A meaning that only rang true to those who were foolish enough to commit to another's heart. To those who were foolish enough to cling to the elusive hope of happy endings, to those who were foolish enough to believe in the existence of soulmates, and to those who depend their happiness on someone's mercurial heart.
It was odd. How she hated love. She grew from a family destined to fall in love with their other half or they'd simply perish from a broken heart and their own woe, the people who showed their love to another in such unique ways others can't even fathom. However, she does have the characteristics.
Loyal? She'd forever be clung to a typewriter than a phone in the 21st century. Committed? She'd stop her heart if she ever needed to elaborate on it for her novel. Devoted? She spares at least an hour or two every day for her literature. Loving? Maybe not so. She'd rather drink a gallon of caramel drizzled with honey and sweet chocolate out of someone's eyesockets before having a committed relationship with someone.
Wednesday closed off everyone from her life, built walls hard to tear down even if she met another version of herself, and kept everything locked in a safe where no one knew the code. Her heart will forever be closed, and her soul will forever be overgrown with thorns with curses and cries from those desperate enough to fall for her.
But then you came along.
Ever since then, she hated love even more.
But most importantly, she hated you.
The way you entered her life in more ways than one, the way you smiled everytime you looked at her knowing you'd just receive a glare back, the way you were considered as that one girl who always got into trouble because you just couldn't accept losing, the way you run your hands through your hair, the way it just falls back gracefully down to your shoulders, the way your nose scrunches up when you find something funny, the way your eyes shimmer in the sun, the way your face looks in the moonlight, the way you laugh, the way everytime Wednesday looks at you she's reminded that she has a beating fucking heart that she knew she closed off.
Wednesday hated all of it.
She often pitied those who willingly fell in love with her more than those who pleaded for mercy.
She often pitied those who fell in love in general.
So, why did she feel pity for herself when she met you?
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"We're friends."
No, you couldn't say that. You'd be lying to yourself.
Friends don't look into their friend's eyes as if they created a whole galaxy for them in their hands. Friends don't kiss each other behind closed doors, friends don't have this weird feeling to outright propose to them, and friends definitely don't dream of absolutely ravaging the fuck out of another.
But lovers don't wake up the morning after pretending that nothing happened either.
So, what were you to Wednesday?
You were more than friends but less than lovers. Where does that put the both of you in the spectrum? You were friends-with-benefits, sure, you guys are anyway, but a part of you wanted something real.
A tired sigh escaped your lips. The cold breeze and the familiar setting of being awake at 5:00 finally hits you. You didn't even notice you were sitting up, the creak of the bed echoing in the silent room alongside your breath. The headboard pressed against your back and that stupid pain in your chest that never seemed to go away no matter how much you yelled at your body to just stop. Or maybe that wasn't much of a treatment.
As you looked towards your left, you found yourself sighing yet again, but out of relief. Wednesday.
A calming sight, you'd think. You always found it endearing when you first saw Wednesday sleep with her arms crossed around her chest as if she's inside a coffin. Okay, maybe at first, you were creeped out and you were debating if you should wake her up. But now, it felt like even if you took a hundred photos of her, it still wouldn't be enough to capture her at peace.
After a few minutes, you found yourself in the bathroom. The sound of water running filled the closed room as you splashed your face, trying to wake yourself up.
Leaning against the sink, the cold material seeping against your skin, you stared at your reflection. Your hands going up to cup your face, your fingers tracing the marks and the scars you carried.
You were always known for being that one girl who got into trouble, it didn't matter whether it may be from your actions or the actions that were caused by others, who thought it'd be funny to put the blame on you and the explanation would be your reputation. But it didn't matter, you think, atleast you were known for something.
You loved Wednesday. But you truly couldn't.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The room felt smaller. Smaller than it ever did.
"I just can't fucking deal with your bullshit anymore." They spat out, you yourself standing across from them with eyes that cried for nights. "It's like you expect me to bear it with you, why can't you just stop putting me in your own damn mistakes!?"
Your eyes mirrored hurt, but your body reflected with anger, replacing it as a shield for the shouts that were shooting to kill. "I'm—I'm not expecting you to bear anything," you stuttered, "I just need you to understand, to be there for me I—"
They let out a bitter laugh, "Understand what, y/n? Who would want to be burdened by your constant need to be loved?" They got closer to you, backing you into a wall, "You're unlovable, y/n. I can't keep fucking pretending that I can fix you or some shit. Why can't you get the simplest things through your head?"
"I thought we loved eachother."
"We didn't!" They shouted, "we never loved eachother, I never loved you, no one fucking did."
"But I loved you."
They stepped back to you, going over to their own place to pack up. "But I didn't alright? I never did, and I never will."
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, just please don't leave me—" You reached out, desperation in your touch before they pushed you away.
"I can't give you what you deserve, y/n. You don't even deserve half of it."
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Each time your gaze hovered over a mirror, the memory played over and over again, to the point you couldn't even tell what was real in that scene or not. You warped it into something you fear, into something you'd use as an excuse if you ever found yourself getting attached to another.
It came back to haunt you, it always did, but now, it didn't fear you as much as it did.
Maybe you were numb to it at this point, you'd think, but a part of you wanted to think that it was because of Wednesday. That she was the one, the one that would never be a relapse of the memory. The one that would erase it.
You let out a sigh—probably the 100th one all week—with the immense tiredness you were having overthinking. But it was fine, you'd say to yourself, you loved her.
"Y/n."
"Y/n!"
You didn't realize you were daydreaming a daydream until someone shouted your name across the sea of people, your body slumped over a wall holding whatever your friends poured you into a plastic cup, the bass-boosted music meeting your ears.
"Y/n! You okay?" You looked up, almost wanting it to be Wednesday calling out for you, but why would Wednesday be at a party in the first place? You'd have better luck escaping this party unscathed.
Your mind snapped back, took a while, and you managed a weak smile. "Yeah—" you hic, "Yeah, I'm fine." You wiped your mouth with the side of your hand, squinting your eyes to figure out who was talking to you with a fucked up brain.
She offered you a smile—actually, you didn't know at this point. You were too zoned out. "So sorry, who are you again?" you slurred, your free hand roaming around your pockets to make sure your phone was still intact.
The girl laughed, a sound that your thoughts didn't pick up at something familiar. Or Wednesday. "I'm Kary. I'm in your class; biology." She offered you a handshake, which she voluntarily lowered when you offered to toast instead.
The two of you were never close, not even spending two years together couldn't be enough for a friendship to start. You always seemed to notice that Kary was quiet in class, never really speaking to anybody. Even the teachers don't pick her even if she sits in front of the board; you on the other hand was always called to recite, leading you to believe you were the opposite of a teacher's pet.
Ever since transferring to Nevermore, you were always the number one attendee at parties, even if you admitted they were not your style. You always told her how they're "filled with hormones", "a competition to see who gets knocked out passed out on the cold floor first," or just "simply for teenagers to drink their troubles away."
Despite your critiques on the matter, you were always there.
The night went on, and your mind was starting to feel hazy. More cloudy than it should be with the alcohol you're drinking. Kary's touched lingered longer on your arm, her body getting closer to yours, and she looks at you with half-lidded eyes.
She leaned in close to you, her lips almost going to yours if you hadn't slightly backed away. "Where's Wednesday? I thought she'd be here after that whole thing happened."
The mention of Wednesday definitely caught you off guard, your heart skipping a beat while the empty drink in your hands kept fumbling in your grip as you stuttered over your words. "Wednesday—She's… She isn't really that fond of parties. You know the gist." You laughed, awkwardly, your hands trying to push her away from undoing your belt.
"Kary, I don't—" was all you could say before you were interrupted, "Don't what, Y/n? It's a party, enjoy it a little—"
"Kary, please, I said I don't—"
"I must say, y/n would rather be entertained by pigsty doing acrobatics to save their souls." A sharp voice cutting through the haze you were so desperately pleading your body to get rid of it.
Kary's hands withdrew from your belt almost immediately, her eyes widening in surprise. You turned to see Wednesday there, arms crossed as her gaze pierced through yours. But more on Karys. The party lights illuminating her presence.
"Wednesday! Why—Why are you here?"
"You've left me a string of incoherent messages that I would not like to decipher if not for Thing becoming a translator." She reached into her pocket, pulling out her phone that had a dozen of text messages—most if not all of it from your contact—flooding her homescreen begging for her to come to the party.
"I assume you needed my company."
"I didn't expect you'd, you know, come." You fumbled, your hand almost crushing the cup that was offered to you.
Before you could even respond, Kary interjected, "We were just having some fun, Addams." She spoke, for you. "Y/n was getting plenty of company."
"I assure you, having at least a dozen men falling under your belt should be much company for you. Not if you keep it hidden, I suppose," Wednesday stated, her tone cool and composed, but her fists were clenched under her arms and her jaw was locked.
You didn't know Wednesday was even calling your name out for the last 40 seconds, the alcohol finally taking a toll on your body as you just looked at the both of them.
Before anyone could say another word, Wednesday took your arm, her grip firm, tugging on you as if to call you back. "We're leaving. Now."
You stumbled alongside her, wondering where the hell did she even get all that strength to push you around. You shot a glance back at Kary, looking at you with crossed arms. You could almost feel sorry for the girl, you feel sorry for anyone who Wednesday decided to darken their footsteps. But you couldn't think of anything. Not when Wednesday had the most tight grip on your heart at the very moment.
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You barely had a moment to catch your breath before Wednesday pushed your back firmly against the door, her cold hands lingering on your chest, the click echoing through the room. Her eyes locked onto yours, dark and intense.
You couldn't hear a thing, every sound that entered your ear was distorted and meshed. "Did you even see the way she looked at you?" Wednesday's voice was low, a hint of possessiveness in her tone, her hands going to your throat.
Your breath hitched, your mind wandering through places as your hands sought freedom in her hips, your fingers gently sliding into her waistband. "I never pegged you to be the jealous type, Wednesday." You teased. A smile appeared across your lips, your eyes taunting Wednesday's serious ones, blinking. A falter in her gaze, you noticed.
Wednesday's grip on your throat tightened just enough to send a shiver down your spine, your mouth opening to let air out as she let her hands roam up to your face, her thumb grazing your lips. "Because I never am," she whispered, you whimpered.
Your smile turned into a foolish smirk, slightly laughing, "Then is there another reason why you're tearing my shirt apart?" you asked, your gaze drifting down to where Wednesday's free hand was frantically unbuttoning the blouse you had.
Her eyes followed yours, a faint red tint painting her cheeks as she huffed a puff of air, stopping her actions. "...That would never change my desire to slit her throat in half."
"Oh, aren't you a romantic?"
"Some would call it demented, I'd say effective."
She grabbed you by your collar, feeling your lifeless body obediently following her every move, staggering as you do so.
Soon enough, Wednesday let go of your collar and pressed you against the bed, your body fell and she followed suit. You feel dizzy, zoned out even, your hands going up to cup her face as she looms over you.
"You know, romantic or demented, it doesn't matter," you breathed, your voice rasped as you brought her face closer to yours as you allowed her fingers to unbutton your blouse, "it still won't help the fact I want you to fuck me."
Wednesday pulled back, a raise in her eyebrows, you couldn't see it if not for her messy fringe and hot breath on yours.
Her fingers, now paused onto the last button of your clothing, she traced a tantalizing trail on the edges without continuing, waiting for something.
You almost rolled your eyes, if not for the pleasure building inside you.
"God—fuck, please, Wednesday." You whimpered, pleaded out of desperation, running out of patience.
"Wasn't hard, was it?" She pulled you into a kiss, her tongue slipping into your mouth. Fuck, how she was so addictive. Her fingers roam freely around your chest of your body, letting your blouse fall open, while your hands wander down her back, caressing her curves as she perfectly arches her body against yours.
Every touch brought you to ecstasy, every silent whimper Wednesday gave brought you to heaven, everything about Wednesday made you feel as if you weren't alive.
You break the kiss, letting your lips fall to her neck. You let out a moan as you feel her body shudder against you, your chest rising and falling against hers while your hand slid through her hair, your fingers wrapping against her messy strands.
"I never thought you were into this." You look up to her, smirking.
"And I never thought you'd be attracted to someone like her." She fumed as if her name was taboo.
You sit up, an eyebrow arched in amusement. "You're still onto that?"
"I'll take it to my grave."
"Jealousy fits you, baby." You teased, a smirk playing on your lips as you pulled up your thigh, tracing lines against her clothed clit.
"It's—It's horrid." she stammered, her breath hitching as she shut her eyes and shuddered at the endearment, her jaw clenched to prevent anything from coming out of her.
You couldn't retort back, a sly comment was about to escape your lips until Wednesday took both of your wrists and pinned them together, her body adjusting and going up to your chest.
"Behave."
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a/n: damn i realized i do not know how to write atleast a tiny bit of smut to save my life. also probably going in more about how Wednesday feels about their rs next chap!
#wednesday addams x reader#wednesday addams x you#wednesday addams x y/n#wednesday addams x female reader#jenna ortega x y/n#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega x you#jenna ortega
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Miracle
Aitana Bonmatí x Baby!Reader
Summary: You're a miracle
Aitana didn't take days off.
That was something Keira knew.
Aitana refused to take days off even when she was sick and injured. She always arrives ready and willing to train even though everyone knows that she'd just be sent home.
It's why this past week has been strange.
Aitana didn't come into training once. There was no hide or hair of the girl. Her phone immediately went to voicemail. The lights in her house were always off.
If there weren't still Bonmatí shirts in the kit room then Keira could almost believe Aitana never existed.
It was strange and off putting, especially because whenever she asked, Jona would respond that Aitana was off for personal reasons.
None of it made any sense until all of a sudden it did.
Keira was running later, tripping over her own feet as she hurries out of her car. She slams the door shut as she hefts her training bag over her shoulder.
The sound of another door slamming shut shocks her and she whips her head up to see which of her teammates would be having to run laps with her.
She spots Aitana though.
Aitana who is juggling three different bags and a baby.
"Aitana?" Keira asks," Are you okay?"
Aitana looks half to tears as one of the bags fall. She shakes her head.
"I've got it," Keira says," Come on. Let's get you inside."
Aitana doesn't speak as they both make their way to the empty locker room. She doesn't really do anything apart from occasionally holding you closer, breathing in your soft baby smell and pulling back with tears in her eyes.
"So..." Keira feels awkward. This wasn't how she thought her day would be going. "Are you babysitting?"
Aitana's bottom lip wobbles as she glances at you, shaking her head and Keira doesn't push about it anymore.
"Are you training today?" She asks instead," Or is this just a visit?"
"Training." It's the first word Aitana's said to her all morning and Keira counts it as a small victory.
Her friend looks distraught but you seem fairly happy on her hip.
You're sucking on your fingers and looking around, eyes wide as you garble out half words and sounds. Your happy smiling face changes though when you notice Aitana isn't smiling.
Your whole face scrunches up and you recklessly lean towards her to press what is more an open-mouthed breath than an actual kiss to her cheek.
That causes the tiniest of smiles to appear on Aitana's face. "Sí, thank you, estrella."
You giggle, kicking your little legs as Aitana moves to exit the locker room, Keira hurrying to trail behind.
Jona welcomes them both warmly and seems to forget Keira being late in exchange for greeting you.
"If you still need time," He says to Aitana," Then you're welcome to take more time off."
"No," Aitana says," I need to be back on the pitch. I...We need normalcy. The books said I need to establish a routine."
"If you need help-"
"Jona, I'll be fine."
"Of course you will but you're not alone in this. I'll help. Irene will help. You only need to ask."
"I know."
There's already a space made up for you in the shade. Aitana doesn't question who brought out the playpen to keep you enclosed but she's thankful regardless.
You'd just begun to learn how to get around by rolling and she doesn't want to have to keep one eye on you for the whole of training.
She doesn't have to do it but she finds herself doing it anyway, like she can't bare to be separated from you.
"Hey," Irene says during a little break," I heard what happened."
"From Jona?" Aitana can't help be annoyed. Jona shouldn't be airing out her personal business to anyone.
"Alexia, actually," Irene says," She said you might need some help."
"I don't need help!" Aitana snaps, fists clenched at her side," It's not the first time I've had her! I can cope!"
"Babysitting is different from being her mother."
"I'm not her mother!" Aitana insists," Her parents are going to wake up! They are!"
Paredes look tells Aitana that she thinks it's unlikely and Aitana regrets ever informing the club about what had happened. She should have known they would tell Alexia who, trying to be the ever-helpful captain, would pass on the knowledge to whoever she felt could offer the most support.
Of course, she went to Paredes, the ever-experienced mother of the group. She could have easily gone to Marta too but with her working out how to introduce Caro to her Conejita, she would be too preoccupied to offer help.
"Aitana-"
"Thank you for the offer," Aitana says through gritted teeth," But I don't need it."
She storms off then, turning on her heel. She barges past Alexia who was hovering nearby, intent on giving her a piece of her mind.
Her mouth is already open to hurl an out of character insult at her captain when she catches onto your wailing. It seems you're a bit out of character too today.
You'd slept horribly last night and the night before. You didn't eat well this morning either and you had cried all through the car journey to training. The happiest you'd been was in the locker room with Keira.
Aitana knew it wouldn't last.
But she couldn't work out what was wrong with you. You're weren't hungry. You didn't need a change. You weren't hurt.
You were just sobbing when she picks you up, hiding your face in her neck and wiping your runny nose with her training top.
"What's wrong, estrella?" She coos," What's wrong? What's happened?"
You sniffle a few more times. "Ta-Ta."
"Hmm." Aitana runs a soft hand over your hair. "You just wanted me, huh?"
"Ta-Ta."
"I understand." She sways you side to side until your sobs have turned into little hiccups of emotion and you're looking up at her with wide, teary eyes.
"Just Estrella and her Ta-Ta," She coos," This is very different, isn't it?"
Aitana sits down on the grass, digging around in one of the bags she brought for your bottle. Your parents had begun to try to wean you but the past week has been so stressful already and she doesn't want to do more to unsettle you.
You suckle aimlessly, one of your hands moving to cover the one of Aitana's that's holding your bottle.
She stares ahead as a familiar face sits down next to her.
By now, she knows that her strange behaviour has spread all over the team. Paredes and Alexia both hover uncertainly nearby like they want to offer help again but don't want to wind her up further.
Across the pitch, Aitana can spot Marta and her Conejita doing arts and crafts together.
It sends a stabbing pain into her chest and the words spill out of her mouth before Keira can even ask.
"She's not mine. I mean, she is but not really."
"Aitana, I don't understand."
"Her parents...my friends..." Her throat closes up. "I was babysitting last week for date night and they...A drunk driver hit them."
"I'm sorry. Are they-?"
Aitana shakes her head. "They're in comas. They put me down as Estrella's guardian. I...They...I'm trying my best."
"I'm sure you are. You must love her a lot."
"She's mine," Aitana chokes out," Biologically. She's mine. They-They couldn't get pregnant and I offered to donate an egg and we agreed I'd be fun Tia Ta-Ta..."
"Oh, Aitana..."
The tears are running down her cheeks now and she's can't stop them.
"They were going to have date night with her last week. They said that they'd find something baby friendly but I insisted. It was so close. She could have...Keira, she could have died."
Keira glances at you. You're so comfortable in Aitana's arms and, now that she's really looking, she can see the similarities between the both of you.
You both have the same crying face.
"But she didn't," Keira says," You were looking after her, Aitana. You had her. You kept her safe."
"Ta-Ta?" Your tone is questioning and your little pudgy hands come up to touch her cheeks.
"I'm fine, estrella," She says to you as her phone rings. She already knows who is calling. Somehow, she already knows what they're going to tell her. "Why don't you hang out with your fun Tia Keira? I'll be back in a second."
"Ta-Ta!" You whine as you're shuffled from Aitana to Keira.
"Just a minute. Then it's Ta-Ta and Estrella time."
As she answers the phone, Aitana knows that's it's going to be Ta-Ta and Estrella time forever now.
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she broke her own heart
Summary : Just a short story about how Wanda broke her own heart.
You didn't cheat.
You learned at a young age that when you loved someone, you should be solely and deeply committed to that person. You were strongly against any sort of betrayal.
You hated your father for that. You thanked the heavens he got sick with something close to cancer because you knew he deserved it. But you hated him more for making your mother miserable who still took care of your father after he got sick most of the time. You pitied your mother. She shouldn't have to live that way, especially when she was the one cheated on. But she loved your father still.
That was why you had cursed him and swore to yourself you wouldn't ever do what he did to your mother.
You couldn't handle the guilt if ever you'd commit such a cruel act, wondering how some people could ever do such in the first place. Even some of your friends have cheated or have been cheated on. It made you sick to the stomach just to think of it.
You couldn't ever ever cheat and wouldn't attempt to in your lifetime.
You didn't cheat.
That was what you were trying to tell your girlfriend of four years when she caught you with a naked woman in your apartment.
Wanda. Sweet, innocent, ever kind Wanda. With red hair and green eyes, she'd part the crowd like the Red sea whenever she entered a room.
You met her during your last year in College and dated ever since. It was a funny encounter — an enemies turned into lovers type of story. It was when Wanda accused you of being the other girlfriend of your now ex-bestfriend, Vision.
It took her a whole month to figure out you were gay when you both got drunk and made out in your dorm. It only took her five seconds of your tongue in her mouth to find out she liked girls too.
You and Wanda had been inseparable since. The relationship grew more intense, making you both commit yourselves to each other. Your friends became her friends. Her friends became yours.
You considered yourself so lucky for having her in your life. Wanda was always there through your ups and downs. And you were also there for hers.
So why would you cheat on her? How could you ever cheat on her?
You didn't cheat. But Wanda didn't believe you.
Wanda witnessed it front row.
It was a normal Thursday afternoon, or at least it was supposed to be normal, when Natasha, your bestfriend, dropped by your apartment, carrying with her her bag of art supplies, a blank canvass and a lady wearing high heels who looked like ten years older than the two of you.
It was honestly your fault in the first place. You were too nice to deny Natasha a place to do her painting when she was kicked out of hers. But you were also too late to realize it was going to be a nude work when the lady suddenly took off all of her clothes, leaving only her red stilettos on.
Amidst your complaints about how Wanda wouldn't approve of such a thing if she only knew, Natasha had managed to persuade you that it would only take her an hour to finish.
But bad things were meant to happen.
If only you allowed Natasha to use the toilet when she needed to relieve herself earlier, you wouldn't have to wait for a couple of minutes for her to come back when she immediately headed towards the toilet the moment she had finished the painting.
You wouldn't have to endure an awkward moment alone with the lady as she slowly dressed herself. You wouldn't have slipped on Natasha's paintbrush that she left on the floor in a hurry and tackled with the lady as you both fell down on the floor.
And Wanda wouldn't have seen you two in a weirdly sexual position in the apartment that you and Wanda shared.
No. Wanda didn't believe you. She saw it with her own two eyes.
"It's not what you think it is," you told her. Yet, you couldn't move. You found yourself frozen, million of things running inside your head, reasons why you were suddenly on top of this half naked stranger.
Wanda scoffed, then bit back a cry as she said, "I thought you were different. I was wrong."
When Wanda hurriedly left the apartment, a switch turned on in yourself, making you finally move from your spot.
"What did I miss?" was what you thought you heard Natasha ask in a distance when she finally came out of the toilet. But you were too focused to follow Wanda out of the building and into the parking lot.
"Wanda!" you called out, knocking the windows of her car as you tried to get in. "It was not what it looked like. I swear!"
Then you made a run towards her side of the car because the passenger's side was locked.
"Wanda, please!" You were hysterical. Especially when you saw how red and defeated Wanda's eyes looked like. As if she had accepted her fate. That you were a cheater, just like her ex boyfriend.
"I didn't! We didn't—" A sudden honk made you jump away from the car before Wanda stepped on the pedal and drove fast. Away. Far from you.
You tried to run for it. But after a couple of blocks, you ran out of air to breathe.
Endless visits in Pietro's apartment became your routine. You knew Wanda was staying at her brother's place. You saw her car parked outside. But Wanda wouldn't give you the time or the ear to listen.
Wanda's friends became your enemies, despising you for betraying their friend. You could talk them through it, made them believe you didn't do what they thought you did. But you only cared for Wanda to believe you.
Pietro almost didn't believe you until Natasha talked to him.
"Give it time, Y/n," Pietro always said to you whenever you dropped by. "You know how she feels about cheating. Maybe tomorrow, she'd finally listen to you."
So you hoped and hoped that tomorrow will come. That one day she'd finally hear you out and your valid excuse.
But that day turned only into weeks. And weeks turned into a month. And a month turned into two. Until you couldn't bear it any longer and visited Wanda in her office.
Amidst the protests from Wanda's secretary, saying she was in a meeting, you still managed to get to her office.
Wanda wasn't alone. She was with her officemate who was also her friend, Jarvis. A friend who had become surprisingly close after your so-called breakup.
You were out of breath. Not because the secretary was so fast in trying to get you, but because you swore you saw Jarvis' arm around Wanda's shoulders just a second ago, and how their faces were so close to each other, it almost looked like they were kissing or something.
"Y/n, what are you doing here? How did you get in?" Wanda bitterly asked. You could tell she was still mad about what she thought you did.
"I'm sorry, Ma'am." Her secretary bumped into your back as she managed to catch up. "I tried to stop her—"
"It's okay. I trust it Y/n doesn't need help to exit this building as well," Wanda replied.
"You didn't answer to any of my calls or messages," you began. "If you could only hear me out just this once. Natasha brought—"
"I don't think we have formally met," Jarvis interrupted as he walked towards you, his hand held out for you to shake. "I'm Jarvis Stark, the CEO of Stark Industries, along with my brother Tony. And. . .," he made a look towards Wanda before he looked back at you, "Wanda's boyfriend."
You laughed. It was a slow chuckle at first, before you burst into a loud laughter.
"I see," you said, ignoring Jarvis' hand as you made your way towards Wanda. "You don't have to do this. Pretending he's your boyfriend when months ago, you despise the hell out of him."
Wanda stepped back. "You don't know me, Y/n. Maybe, I do want him after all."
"Wands—"
"Besides the fact that at least he wants me unlike you."
"You know that's not true—"
"Tell me, Y/n, was she really that good in bed? Good enough to throw all those years away?!"
"Wands." You tried to step a bit closer, arms extending for a hug.
"Stay away from me!" Wanda screamed, making Jarvis drag you away from her. You pulled out from his grasp as you stared at Wanda. She looked like a mess, but you couldn't really blame her if she had gone through a heartbreak.
After all, she was the one who broke her own heart.
"Don't make me call security," Jarvis warned.
You took a deep breath before you finally left.
You would have come back the following day. Or the day after that. If only you didn't get sick.
You would have visited Pietro's apartment the next day if you didn't just collapse on your way to work that day.
You thought it was just fatigue, what with the restless nights you had spent trying to win Wanda back. But you were wrong.
It turned out you were cursed with your father's illness too.
That was why you were drinking in a bar on a Tuesday afternoon, even when the sun was still up. If Natasha weren't there to get you to go home, you would have ended in God knows where.
"I don't deserve her," you softly murmured when Natasha had managed to get you in her car. "I don't deserve Wanda."
"Hey, don't say that."
"She's in good hands now. He'll be good to her. Promise me, Nat, you'll look after her."
Natasha cupped your face. "She just needs time, Y/n. She'll come back. I promise you that."
But time was something you had until now. Until you finally received the medical report from your doctor, telling you that you'd end up paralyzed one day. Just like your father.
And you couldn't do that to Wanda — making her take care of you as you both grew old. No. You couldn't do that to her. You were not your father.
Even when she finally realized that you didn't really cheat. Even when she would finally talk to you and accept you back into her arms. Even when Wanda made it known that Jarvis and her weren't at all true and she was just angry at that time.
Even when she finally came to Natasha's party after countless invitations in the past months, knowing you were there too. Even then.
You knew now you're not your father. You wouldn't cheat. And you couldn't make her give up her dreams just to take care of you.
So when yours and Wanda's eyes met at the party, with her talking to some of your friends, and you drinking from a distance, you knew you had to finally let her go.
"I cheated," you said when Wanda came to follow you in the balcony. "I had intentions that day to kiss her and more."
Wanda shook her head. "You're lying." Even her voice was trembling.
"It's true. The only lie I ever told you was to make you believe I didn't do it, that I didn't cheat. But I . . . I want to come clean, Wanda," you went on. "I'm sorry I led you on, I'm sorry. I slept with her that night. And on the following nights too—"
Wanda snapped, her hand hitting your left cheek with a force. The sound echoed through the night. That hurt. But your heart was already hurting.
"Why can't I be enough, Y/n?" Wanda finally asked after a couple of seconds of complete silence.
Then you looked at her, saddened that she didn't realize how perfectly enough she was to anyone.
You wanted so badly to tell her she was enough. That you were even lucky she was talking to you. That it was you who couldn't be enough for her.
But you stopped yourself. You had to let her go.
"Don't you ever let me see your face again," she said, gritting her teeth, before she left.
And that was the only thing you could promise Wanda from that moment on.
#wanda maximoff x reader#elizabeth olsen x reader#wanda maximoff#wanda x reader#wanda#wanda angst#elizabeth olsen#one short
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Angel
real!dad leon kennedy x afab!reader
tw: incest
short yip yap, 100% filth // related to: My, Penitence
an: i felt like yapping about just some sex between leon and the reader in the tl of my last story in between working on the actual second part of the story & some other stuff >_<;;; it isnt much but hehe
"Somedays I'm convinced your dad is more of a boyfriend than this 'mysterious' guy. You're always with him but I assume it's cause you're such a daddy's girl. He can't let you go, huh?"
Your friend jokes while blowing out the smoke from her cigarette.
"Probably just as overprotective now since his only child is having a kid. Must be a big thing for him."
You chuckle in response but you knew the truth. You knew all of what truly was happening. The sexual relationship with your father had went on for a while now. But she'd think you're insane, right?
"— I really wish I could meet the guy who got MY best friend pregnant!"
"My dad."
You respond softly, hearing a light cough. She choked on the smoke from your response.
"What?- You're fucking with me. Right?"
You gaze over, that warm smile remained on your face.
"Of course I'm fucking with you."
You lied, gently ghosting your fingertips over your belly. You felt the gentle kicks in response as your smile widened more. You were having his child. Your father's child.
You couldn't be any happier.
_
What was normal? You don't exactly remember what it's like to be a normal person like everyone else around you was. You adapted back to your roots and all the shit your father dragged you into.
Your first time, second time and yeah.. Whatever time by now wasn't as ideal. But you slowly but surely gotten back into that headspace you had a while back and enjoyed when he came up from behind to touch you or fuck you. You loved your daddy in a sick way all over again. You made the most sense out of it though even when he had spiraled from drinking and would smack you around, beat you till you saw nothing but darkness but you enjoyed finally being intertwined with him. You finally were close with him like the way you wanted it to be.
If anything, he molded you into what you originally wanted to be in the first place.
"Daddy.."
You're obviously mentally gone in the head, busy nuzzling against him like a needy dog while he has his arm wrapped around you, watching television with you. He glances over, a warm smile etched on his face - seeing you all up on him. He found it cute and amusing.
"Yeah sweetheart?"
"Need you.."
"Now?"
"Noooww.."
You thought you'd be past this when you were in your so called "healing" phase but that was short lived after he had you all to himself after the divorce — he seemed to have forgotten all about that, didn't even speak about your mother ever again and only spoke about you or ranted about work. The usual.
"Huh, alright. My pretty angel wants her daddy, yeah?"
"Mh.." You shift around, crawling right onto his lap while staring into his eyes lovingly. He enjoyed the sight of you, all bubbly and needy. It's exactly what he wanted out of you.
So with that, he didn't waste anytime in pulling his pajama pants off and his boxers, letting his cock fling out. You notice it and bite your lower lip with excitement; glancing towards him again with an ecstatic look on your face. This night was gonna be a long one.
_
You two were at it for a while, loud moans and begging filled the room. The scent of sex pooling throughout as you felt yourself in a new state of bliss. For the longest, you tried to get him to stop whenever he stopped by your bedroom at night. After he had taken your virginity, he couldn't get enough of you. Kept mentioning how you were like your mother but better.
At first it was weird then it turned out to make you smile when he said that. You craved for those compliments, hence why you started doing the things you did when you felt him slightly straying away from doing things with you. Changed your attire, purposely did the cliché thing of bending over with skirts or short dresses on so he could see your panties. All of those had brought him further into this taboo relationship. It never was meant to get out of hand but you both couldn't help it. If he was sick in the head, then you were too.
"Daddy's cock feels so- Good!!~"
You cry out, grazing your nails along his back. Your breasts brushed along his chest as he groans, gazing up at you. He was happy himself even if somedays he sat there with a concerned expression whenever he was laying there in bed with you.
"Oh?"
He replies, gripping to your hips before he decided it was time to take charge. He moves his hands up in a better position before grabbing you and pinning you down to the couch, slamming his cock back into you. Your moans are strained out while he stares down at you with a smile. He enjoyed seeing you like this regardless of the doubt in the back of his head that was faintly there.
"I'm gonna cum soon.."
He grasps your hip with one hand while his other hand was in yours, intertwining the both of your fingers together. It was bittersweet and you squeezed at his hand while looking up at him. His movements progressively gotten rougher and faster — nothing but the sound of skin slapping against each other and the loud squelching noises were heard through the room.
"I-inside?..Please.. Please inside!"
To his surprise, this was the first time you begged for him to cum inside. Surely, you expected him to do this on his own but he always pulled out of you each time in the past but this day was different. His cock throbbed from your pleads — only moving rougher than before as a low growl left his throat.
"Inside? You want daddy's cum inside, huh? Dirty girl.."
He wasn't gonna turn down your plea, if anything he was all for it. He tensed up, quickening his pace while you both made eye contact with eachother. The way you stared at eachother made butterflies go crazy in your stomach. Before you knew it, you both had leaned closer to eachother, sharing a passionate kiss that a father and a daughter shouldn't share, but you two were different.
It felt good, so it didn't matter if it was wrong or right.
You muffle moans into the kiss, slipping your hands away and wrapped your arms around his neck. Your legs naturally remain wrapped around his back as his thrusts gotten rougher and deeper while time passed.
Seconds later? You both are crying out moans into the long-lasting kiss, you made a mess all over the sheets and his cock that was twitching inside of you — filling you to the brim. This might've been the most he's ever come..
You both laid there, out of breath while you felt his weight ontop of you. His embrace was warm and it kept you at ease after the session you both shared.
"Ah.....I..I love you, angel."
He rasps out, nuzzling into your neck. You could feel his stubble scrape at your skin as you gazed at him with a faint smile.
"I love you too, daddy.."
You truly did replace your mother. You weren't his daughter anymore.
You were his wife.
#realdad!leon#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy#leon kennedy x y/n#leon kennedy smut#dead dove fic#dead dove do not eat#🕊️ — drabs
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We need to see some early little content of baby gabi, like first time parents! Like them figuring out the routine and dealing with diapers, throw up, crying, and some new firsts!
A Series of First With Baby Gabriella ~ (Pt. 1)
Warning: Mild mild angst, rotting fluff.
His baby girl, his firstborn, Gabriella had been born. He'd spend hours to no end watching her. Little waves, a reminiscence of him, perched over her tiny head.
She had been hours since she came to this world, finally fulfilling one of the deepest and hidden yearnings that came as soon as he knew he loved you. Being a father.
He was scared. Miguel out of everyone knew his childhood had been anything but easy. Even to this day, things were hard and some days they were too overwhelming to ignore. But now, a new purpose had been added to his list. Be everything he didn't have for his baby girl.
Be the best father a girl could ask for. And hopefully one day, the best example of a husband many men would strive to imitate.
The coos and little cries of his girl returned all the attention back to her, her whole hand wrapped around his finger. But in truth it was the opposite.
She didn't need to make anything outrageous to have his whole attention, Gabriella had him wrapped around her tiny and squeezing fingers, ready to make a wonderful father out of him.
You were asleep, on bed, exhausted. Gladly giving into your body's whims to rest. Delivery was a bit tricky, but with the doctor's and nurse's help you were just fine and his daughter in perfect conditions. Like he had been longing for.
"Mírate no más, igualita a mí" (Look at you, so like me)
His eyes softened as his thumb stroked ever gently at her hair. She stirred and grunted while she stretched. The little yawn and her almost nuzzling in his chest made his chest to swell up in pride.
His lips pressed softly over and over against her forehead, he felt like hallucinating, since Gabi's lips twitched in a little shy smile.
----
The first night back at home you had to drag Miguel out of Gabi's baby room. A baby monitor in her crib had given you both enough reassurance for the night. It had been only a couple of months since you moved into your new house and bit by bit, everything started to be full of baby things. Preparing for the arrival of your baby.
And now, it's owner had finally came, the room was complete. His house felt complete with Gabi in it.
A pale lilac adorned the walls, the crib white andk sturdy, a whole Sunday had been spent assembling it. Meaning, you'd watch Miguel doing so, giggling whenever he cursed or crumpled the instructions. Your routine was based on her first feeding she had back at the hospital. Meaning ten pm.
The next one was at 1 am, then at four, seven and so on. She ate every three hours. Sometimes, Miguel would come home and find you curled up on the couch or any other surface cushioned enough for you to rest.
And when you'd wake up, you'll always be in your bed, tucked in. Sometimes, you'd find yourself startling out of nowhere when you heard Gabi's door opening up. Only to find Miguel changing her diapers if needed and sharing time with her.
You'd kiss his cheek and held his hand, pulling him away even though his feet refused at first. "C'mon, let her rest. You need to sleep and so do I."
"I know." He kissed in return your forehead, "Thank you."
---
If he could get a picture of his baby girl, every day, he would. But nothing compared to experiencing meaningful moments right there next to her.
The first laugh you got from Gabi was when she nibbled your nipple, the soft nub was nothing against her gums.
"Oww"
She giggled again as she slapped your breast softly. Your fingers caressed her head lovingly, gentle voice lulled her to sleep.
"Glad you're happy chewing my nipple, princesita"
With Miguel things were different, she'd burst into the loudest laughing fit when he'd blow raspberries into her tummy. Excited and kicking feet moved playfully, her hands latched on his dark waves.
"Gimme a smile"
Gabi stared at him as he yawned, too interested in the pair of fangs that peeked out of his plump mouth. Seeing no effect in her, he tried a little growl.
She cooed, the smile creeping up in her little lips. Miguel roared, or at least attempted to roar, Gabi's laugh soared through the room, but quieted down once your steps approached.
"Whose there?"
Miguel taunted, Gabi's expectant eyes darted towards the door, a coo accompanied her.
"Es tu mami." He mumbled with a smile. (It's your mommy)
Gabi smiled, shook her hands and kicked her legs upon seeing you. Her little pony tail swaying.
"Where's my little chomper?"
"Pa pa!"
You gasped as Miguel took Gabi excitedly.
"Dilo de nuevo, Solecito. Whose that?" (Say it again, Sunshine)
"It's Mama, Gabibi"
"Pa pa!"
You couldn't help but gasp audibly, faking betrayal as Gabi squealed while Miguel smothered her in kisses.
Miguel 1, Mama 0.
"I'm switching you to bottle!"
Gabi gave a feisty grunt at your words as if saying 'You wouldn't dare!' But Miguel's laugh made her to cup his face and grin.
"Pa pa"
"Yes, Solecito?"
A bubbly laugh erupted from her, as she tried to bite his cheeks. Her first words had been dedicated to none but him. Another little milestone added to his personal list.
Nothing however had prepared him for another milestone the both of you feared, yet unavoidably happened.
Gabriella fell sick.
Fever had made a fussy and crying mess out of her. Guilt only grew as you had ignored the signals of her eventual illness. She was restless through her feeding hours, and ate in between breaks. She cried and ate.
And no matter how much you tried to make her less fussy, she'd only cry harder before breaking into a fever.
Her wailing only made you scared and anxiety soon took over you, in between tears you called Miguel and explained. He'd ask permission for work to then fly home and take you to the pediatrician with Gabriella.
Nothing more than an ear infection. Even though antibiotics had been given to her, Miguel would rock her slowly, rubbing her back in soothing circles,
Gabi would rub her eyes, and the outer of her ear while exhaling a little pained whimpering
"I know, mijita. You'll feel better ok?"
He whispered while kissing her forehead. It distressed him greatly to see his baby in such discomfort. She slept longer than usual, fed a little before going back to sleep. You both missed her laugh and usual feisty attitude.
He'd be always welcomed with a little squeal or a gurgling mumble. But now it was everything but silence.
But eventually the infection went away, leaving room for her health to be back.
---
Gabi was now seven months, Her urge to crawl had been stronger, only to fall into her butt. But her perseverance made her to crawl faster and climb things with such agility it made her almost an unstoppable force you'd often been reckoned with.
You'd have startles like getting her last minute before she crawled up or down the stairs. Sometimes you'd burn food to chase her, and when you'd get her she'd squeal and drool over your cheek while trying to kiss you.
"You'll kill me in one of these jumpscares, mi amor. "
She'd giggle and mumble a clear Mama
"Yes, bebita? You're hungry?"
Your little princess would screech, and point at the boiling pot. It always amazed her to no end to see the lid clattering and seeing bubbles underneath it. Or see you dance at the beat of cumbias, merengue and punta.
The latter had her squirming at the beats of the drums while clapping.
As she reached her ten months, she'd surprise you both and Miguel that had your hearts racing.
You were on the living room, playing on the floor with her, Miguel sat across you.
"Solecito, come here" Miguel urged as he motioned her to come, which she followed to a T. She crawled to him but stopped midway
"Come, come" Miguel kept ebbing her to follow him, but Gabi's eyes were set on him.
You helped her to stand and even though her steps wobbled, she didn't stop. Miguel and you shared a complicity look before you let Gabi go.
Big and loving hands motioned her to get to him. A steady step followed by a wobbly one, Gabi balanced herself and cooed, toddler eyes filled with wonder and joy as she followed Miguel's voice, occasionally looking back to you, as if asking 'Like this, Mama?'
"Go to Papa, mi amor!"
Miguel crouched and opened her arms to her, ready to catch her if she fell. But she didn't. In fact, as she approached Miguel her feet took speed.
Her dear Papa took her in his strong arms and thew her in the air, happy for another meaningful milestone he got to witness.
But that would only bring new and near heart attacks experiences.
Ever since she started walking, Gabi would run after Miguel and hold onto his ankle, crying a loud and maudlin Papa, No!
She wanted him to stay, she wanted him to hold her and put her to sleep, but he had to go.
"Solecito, I'll be back"
She'd cry a harder "No!"
"Gabi, mi amor, come here."
"Papa!"
She'd climb to her and who was Miguel to say no to his baby?
He cradled her and kissed her chubby cheek.
"I'll be back, okay? Se buena con tu mamá, 'ta bien?" (Be good to your mom, okay?)
She nodded in between little hiccups and whines as Miguel handled her over to you after kissing her forehead.
"Wanna go shopping with me, princesita?"
She pointed at a leaving Miguel.
"I know, mi niña, he'll be back, okay? Let's get you ready to go."
As soon as Miguel came through the main door, Gabi ran to him and clung to his leg with a wide beam.
"Papa!"
He picked her up and smooched her cheek, "Hola mi chiquita, God, I missed you." He came closer to you and smiled, "I missed you too."
The two most important women of his life were always waiting for him and his return. Finally, his dream had come true.
#miguel o'hara#t writes✨#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x you#atsv miguel#soccer family ⚽🕷️#gabi o'hara#mama o'hara#miguel o'hara fluff#miguel o'hara fanfiction#miguel o'hara imagine#T's Mail 💌
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General Mizu headcanons
-Mizu x fem!reader
-sfw and nsfw headcanons + my thoughts :], kinda long? but aye, more content
-pls, reminder these are my takes, and I would love to hear your in the comments <3
-comments and reblogs are appreciated <3
Sfw:
took her awhile to open up fully to you. Like about everything- probably hide her fav food from you too
speaking of food, she probably is a terrible cook and would love if you can cook for her
I can imagine Mizu burning a pot of water
I tried to do my research and look into this, but I think Mizu is about 5'4
if you're shorter than her, she'll definitely have a confidence boost and feel she has to protect you always- she already does but...you're short and tiny...so she must
If you're taller, she's putty in your hands when you two are alone but she will still kick someone's ass for you
If you're not trained in the martial arts or any good with swords, she'll teach you
If Mizu is teaching you before you two are official, she'll be rougher and stricter with her teaching. She wants you to be the best and have a good chance to learn to protect yourself
Now if she is teaching you after you two are dating, she'll still be strict but definitely a bit more gentle
"Do it again...You almost had it, try again I know you can do this"
Nicknames for you? I feel she would mostly call you by your name, but she would also call you "my pearl" or "my dove"
Pls play with her hair plsplsplsplsplsplspls
She's a sucker for a massage due to her battles and training but only from you
but!!!!!
The first time you saw her without her male persona/ identity sent her in panic mode. You knew her as this strong, tough masculine man...but here you are, happening to stumble upon her wearing nothing and seeing her...lady parts
She already started to develop feelings for you by that time and so have you, but at the knowledge you think she's a boy. Gay stuff is already a 'no-no' to a lot of people, so would it be a 'no-no" for you??
of course not- doesn't matter if they're male or female, it's still Mizu at the end of the day
once you accept her, she truly feels seen for once
This woman will and always lay down her life for you.
She'd probably die then come back to life for you cause she loves you that much
I do feel she would be distant in the beginning. We all know how her last marriage went...She doesn't want to be hurt again
Once you show her you're in for the long run, she'll become lovable and clingy
LET HER BE FEMININE PLS PLS
She barely got to explore her feminine side with Mikio (rat bastard) cause of what happened
Dress her up and make her feel pretty <3
I have a feelign she can be really childish when comfortable with you- play wrestle with her to burn off some energy
She will want to duel with you, but never lets it go too far
If she ever pulls that same shit she did with Mikio, and she has the sword to your throat...I feel she will get flashbacks and get nervous how you'll react
but is soon pulled out of those memories when you laugh and say she wins and you kiss her <3
Nsfw
now the yummy part lol
IDC SHE'S A SWITCH
no one will change my mind, no one could ever think of changing my mind
In the Edo period of Japan, sex toys were there to use and have fun. Now, I actually looked it up and ruined my web history for this because of the shunga I saw
STRAP ON- either Mizu using it on you or you using it on her, either way it's a good time
She definitely can and will be rough and dominate. She's used to be taking control to getting what she wants
Doesn't mean she can't be soft and sensual, you are her love after all, and sex is something for both to enjoy. She would love to just be soft with you
She will spank that ass, idc
Now, like I said, I actually looked a lot of this stuff up...
Double sided dildo for the both of you to use. For her, it's almost embarrassing cause you are seeing her reactions but she also LOVES this since it's so intimate to her, so hold her hand while you two do it
Going off the last one, I feel she would be trying to cover her face or her mouth sometimes...don't let her
With that one episode, we know she's loud and her eyes roll back...it's canon...so hit her with that dumb dick and make her roll her eyes back
Tie her up...that's all
Her fingers are long and slender, good for fingering your cunt and rubbing your clit
Loves having you in her lap and fingering you late at night, especially if there are other people around. Gives her the chance to cover your mouth and whisper in your ear to tease you
"You like that?...You like the fact anyone could catch us right now, and they'd see my fingers fucking this pussy..?”
Dw you'll give her the same treatment
When you finger her, she's whiny, holding onto your other hand tightly
Praise her breast- whether you have bigger breast or not, still show love to her peaches
Kiss them, suck on them, whatever..love on them
I don't think she would ever consider sharing you with another person like ever
I can imagine her talking a big game, but your first time? She’s a wreck, she wants everything to be perfect
Yeah technically she's not a virgin but she doesn't want to mess anything up with you
Favorite position? I think she likes taking you in missionary but likes to be bent over when she subbing
After you give her sum backshots, pls give her the softest aftercare
She will be clingy after, so let her cling to you like a koala
In the end, Mizu is the best girlfriend boyfriend ever <3
#mizu x reader#blue eye samurai x you#bes mizu#blue eye samurai x reader#mizu x you#mizu#mizu blue eye samurai#wlw#bes
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Intertwined
Author: xxwritemeastoryxx
Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x Fem!Reader - Soulmate Au!
Word Count: 6.1K
Warnings: Angst, arguments, Elijah being overly protective but denying himself happiness as always, canon typical violence, a bit of fluff at the end.
Author’s Note: Because I'm apparently on a sequel kick, here's another. I promise I'm getting to the requests that I have and all the things I still need to work on from last year. I'm going where the muse takes me in my writing flow. So there's that. Also please note that you need to read Hidden Marks before reading this one.
I do not and will not ever give permission for my fics to be copied and posted on other sites. Don’t do it. Don’t be that person that ruins it for me and everyone else.Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. While likes are appreciated, reblogs are gold. Seriously, if you enjoyed this in the slightest, please reblog ♥
Hidden Marks || TVDU Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Taglist
It had been months since Elijah had seen the three intertwined circles on the middle of Y/N’s back that made up her soul mark. The first and only time he'd seen it, he'd been pulling a wooden bullet out from her back when she asked for his help. From the moment Elijah helped to remove the bullet, the mark haunted him.
Seeing her mark should have been a great thing. It should have brought him some peace and happiness to see her mark. That her mark matched the very one he had just below his left clavicle. A perfect pair that made sense for how close they had become as friends over the century. If anything, since seeing her mark he's been conflicted on his feelings.
Part of him wants and tries to be protective of her. His soulmate that had come into his life when he least expected it. The woman that had become his best friend over the century had been the one thing he never actively searched for. He now knew why she stepped into his life and never left. But it was the other part of him that caused him to fight daily with his feelings.
Y/N would be in danger because of him. She would soon become a target if even the slightest word had slipped about who his soulmate was. An endless cycle he'd force her into if an enemy ever came knocking. Threats and being captured for the sole purpose of being leveraged against him.
Not to mention if his brother had ever lost his temper with him. Klaus wasn't one to spare the women in Elijah's life before. What difference would it make this time? All it would take was one action that made Klaus feel the slightest ounce of betrayal and he'd take it out on her.
Elijah was willing to take on the devil himself if Y/N was in danger. He was reminded of it any time she recklessly put herself in harm's way. An argument he had with her plenty of times during their friendship, but held a deeper meaning as of recently.
He was also reminded daily how easily she could bend him to her will with a simple smile as she walked into the room. Or the occasional knowing look she'd give him when he or his siblings said something she didn't agree with that would almost instantly change his mind about the situation. Especially if she added in her details that would make it reckless on her part.
But no matter how many times that feeling of comfort and love started to grow for the woman he believed he could only care for platonically, he could never voice it. He could never bring himself to mention the details that he knew. And because he chose to keep it to himself, it began the yoyo effect of wanting to keep her at a distance and keep her close for his own sanity.
It hadn’t gone unnoticed by Y/N either. From the moment she offered him a night out to deal with the humans who had put the bullets into her back, she noticed something different. She noticed the way his demeanor changed around her. He grew worrisome over the smallest of things he never had before. And even fought with her longer over details of plans to help take down the threat the Mikaelsons had been faced with.
She found herself frustrated on the days that he brushed her off and all but ignored her. He had never once been cold to her in the time that she had known him. They had pushed each other’s buttons on occasion, but Elijah had never once pushed her away like he had been doing now. Every time he did, it hurt more than Y/N had ever expected it to.
They were close friends, she knew that. She knew there would always be moments that Elijah would pick his family over her. That there would be moments where he would keep his family safe and do anything he could to also keep her safe. She knew she was not the highest priority. But why did it feel like someone had staked her when he walked away from her when she felt she really needed him for a few moments?
That's when the thoughts of doubt had been planted in her head. Doubts that were formed and fueled to drive her insane for most of the night that made it almost impossible to sleep. What had she done to earn such coldness from someone that she was close with? Had she crossed a boundary that she had suddenly been unaware of?
The final straw that broke her had been moments ago when she offered to go with him to deal with the beginning of a threat. It was always something they had done together. A way to have Elijah’s calm and calculated approach and her glimmer of chaos that would always work out in their favor. But when he told her to stay behind, she could no longer keep anything at bay anymore.
The moment Elijah had told her to stay behind, her face fell at his words. And as he walked past her to leave his expression hadn’t changed. And as she turned to face him, she let it all out.
“What have I done?” She asked, causing him to stop in his tracks. “Have I wronged you in some way that makes you no longer want to be around me?”
Elijah heard the way her voice cracked towards the end. He had hoped that his actions wouldn’t hurt her. But here she was asking what she had done to him when in reality it had been him to do it. He turned to face her and shook his head slightly.
“No.” His voice was composed in comparison to hers. “You have done nothing at all.”
She shook her head as she crossed her arms. “I’ve known you for over a century, Elijah. I know well enough to know you are lying to me. If I’ve done nothing wrong there wouldn’t be this shift between us where it feels like you suddenly want nothing to do with me.”
“I assure you that if I had wanted nothing to do with you, you would not still be standing here.” It was as close to the truth he could go to without coming out right with it. “We are facing a potential threat that I feel as though I need to do this with my siblings. We have no idea what they are fully capable of and the last time I checked, you are not as indestructible as you believe.”
Elijah had no idea how this threat would continue to play in their lives. He had no idea what knowledge they planned to use against them in an attempt to try and take him and his family out. That was why Elijah wanted to do this without her. He wanted to make sure that she would remain safe.
He didn’t want to take Y/N with him with the possibility of allowing them to get an inkling that Y/N had now meant more to him than he let on. He didn’t want her in danger from something he didn’t fully understand. This was the part of him that was willing to do anything to protect her. He just had to slightly push her away in order to do so.
“That never stopped you before.” She noted as she took a step towards him. “I may not be an original, but I am still a whole lot older than a majority of the threats that walk into the city. I have proven myself over and over that I can handle my own. I’m even better by your side. But ever since you’ve seen my mark, it’s like you don’t want to be near me. All I want is the truth from you. Did I do something or did my mark tell you something that you haven’t told me?”
Elijah looked at the ground for a moment before looking back up to her. He could see the hurt in her eyes as she expressed everything. But he couldn’t bring himself to tell her even though every part of him wanted to. To bring some peace to her mind on his reasoning instead of making her feel as though she wasn’t wanted.
“I’m going to try to make this as clear as I can." His voice was still even, almost void of any emotion. "This threat is not to be taken lightly. While we do not have the full specifics on who they are or why they are here, I do know they have come close to harming the people I care about." His eyes met hers. "While our normal plan pairs perfectly with the riff raff we deal with, at this moment it does not. So no, you will not accompany me tonight. I need you here."
After taking in his words, all she could manage was a nod before he was gone from her sight. He didn’t even give her a chance to respond or fight him on what he was telling her. And it left Y/N feeling defeated.
Her mind still tried to make sense of the changes that had come over the last few months. Every push and pull that happened between the two being analyzed as if it had been some rather important document or experiment being worked on. She was trying to find something, anything, to show what caused Elijah’s sudden change. No matter how many ways she thought about it, it only came back to one starting point: the night Elijah saw her mark.
Had seeing it really thrown him off to not want to be near her like he had used to? Not showing them their marks had been a preference they decided on early in their friendships. If there was ever a day they felt comfortable in showing what it was, they would have. And that night, with a bullet in her back, it hadn’t mattered if Elijah had seen it or not.
She ran a hand along her face, trying to shake off the thoughts that had kept her pacing her room for hours after he had left. She no longer cared about the mark or who she may have possibly shared it with. Why did that change now that Elijah had seen it?
It made her wonder if he had seen the mark on someone else. If there was a possibility that he felt guilty in some way after seeing it. There had been plenty of enemies in his existence. At some point he could have easily come across it and not realized it until he saw it on her back.
Did it belong to someone who had betrayed him? Had he seen it on someone that he had taken their life out of necessity? Or had this person been a victim of the many spells he had endured?
Deep down she knew it was the fear of losing Elijah. Something she had thought about over the century and a half she had known him. Friendships can only last so long before one reason or another comes along. She knew plenty of people who had left her on the back burner after finding their soulmate, even during her human years.
She had grown used to having Elijah in her life. It would take her longer to find a memory that didn’t involve Elijah versus the ones with. Over the years she had become dependent on the fact that Elijah had always been there for her just as she was for him. He was a constant and part of her hated the thought of her ever losing that.
At the thought, Y/N had felt her heart sink. A simple thought putting everything into perspective to her. The idea may have been formed from past experiences, but it all made sense. Elijah must have found his soulmate. And if that was the case, she was sure this was the beginning of being put further back on the burner.
“Y/N?!” Rebekah’s panicked voice had broken her from her thoughts, causing her to move quickly to find Rebekah.
Upon reaching the courtyard, a gasp left her lips as she found Rebekah dragging a half standing Elijah towards the couch. The majority of his clothing had been covered in blood. Parts of the fabric had been torn in several places. It was as if Elijah had picked a battle he couldn’t win.
“What the hell happened?” Y/N asked as she moved to help get Elijah settled on the couch. Her eyes had still been taking him in, accessing his injuries.
“Witches.” Elijah breathed out as he tried to get a hold of reality. He had lost enough blood and his mind had been a distorted mess from the magic he had been subjected to.
“Everything had been going according to plan but whatever spell they used on him, it threw him off course.” Rebekah took the moment to leave the room to get items they needed to help Elijah for the time being until Freya could get back there. The moment she was back she continued. “The others are still there dealing with them.”
Seeing the items Rebekah had brought, Y/N reached for the towel that had been sitting in a bowl of water and began cleaning off the blood from Elijah’s face and neck. “I can understand the disorientation, but what the hell ripped into him?”
There was panic rising within Y/N. She hated that he had made her stay behind. She could have been there to help him in some way. Been there to help prevent him from being hurt as he was now.
"Between the spell and some of the wolves within the vicinity, he couldn't watch his back." Rebekah said as she picked up another towel and folded it before placing it on Elijah's forehead. Afterwards she began picking up little containers of what Y/N could only assume were herbs and salves that Freya had instructed her to use for the time being.
As Y/N ran the towel over his neck, Elijah lifted his hand to her hand, stilling her movements. It caused her to look up at him. His eyes had been looking over her face, before they settled on her eyes.
"You're safe." His voice was barely above a whisper.
She nodded her head. "I am safe. You made sure I was." She wasn't sure if that was what he needed to relax more as she attempted to help clean him. "Freya will be here soon."
With that, Elijah seemed to relax his hold and it allowed for her to continue wiping up the blood. So far it looked as though any of the injuries he sustained were healing. It may have been at a whole lot of a slower pace, but his wounds were healing. But the moment her hand moved to remove the shredded fabric stuck to his skin along his left shoulder and chest, his hand grabbed a hold of her wrist, not wanting her to continue.
"I need to make sure your wounds are healing Elijah." She said softly as she brought her eyes up to his once more. "Or to at least give me the peace of mind that this looks way worse than it is."
"For once let someone take care of you." Rebekah added and pulled his hand away from Y/N. It had been too easy to remove his hand. His strength is almost non-existent given what he'd been through.
Elijah hated that he couldn't get his mind to process the protest he wanted to give. He hated that he couldn't give a strong enough response to say he'd deal with it later. But the spell within his mind made it difficult to think clearly for more than a second or two at a time.
Elijah’s eyes never left Y/N’s face as she began to move the fabric away from his chest. He didn't care about the wounds he was facing. He didn't even care that Y/N and Rebekah were caring for him. It was what laid just under the layers of fabric she was removing, that had him worried.
Quickly dipping the towel into the bowl of water between her and Rebekah, Y/N brought it back up to his chest and began to rid him of the drying blood. There was a part of her that was relieved to not see some gaping wound that he was trying to prevent her from seeing.
That relief soon turned into curiosity as the blood was being wiped away. The beginning of Elijah's mark became clear as day. With each wipe of the towel the mark continued to grow. And as last of the reminisce of blood was removed from the mark, she all but dropped the towel.
Just below his left clavicle had been three intertwined circles. It ran horizontally across his skin in the exact same way it ran across the middle of her back. And for a moment she fought herself on reaching out just to run her fingers along the mark. A need to make sure it was really there.
Elijah had watched her the whole time. Even through his hazed mind he could see the way relief had flooded her eyes before her brows began to furrow. The curiosity in her eyes had been evident and there was nothing Elijah could do to fully protest in his current state. All he could do was watch her as she learned what he had months ago.
Her soulmate had been right there in front of her for over a century.
Her eyes snapped to him and Elijah could see several emotions flash through her eyes. He could see the way there was a sliver of excitement before hurt filled them as she tried to stop the tears from welling up.
"What is it?" Rebekah asked as she caught on that Y/N had stopped her movements.
Y/N shook her head slightly before looking away from Elijah. "Nothing worth noting." She said as she went back to wiping the blood.
She kept her eyes away from the mark and as best as she could from keeping them from looking up at Elijah. She could feel his eyes on her. But she refused to look his way.
All of her wild thoughts that had been going through her head earlier had only been partially right. She honestly never thought this was the case. And if she was being honest with herself, this felt worse.
He had found his soulmate like she thought. But she hadn't expected it to be herself. Not with the way he had pulled himself away from her during the course of the last few months. Not with the way she felt that she was losing her best friend.
Elijah knew that he was her soulmate and he didn't tell her. There wasn't an excitement at knowing that the person they spent decades with had been the one person they both chose not to actively look for. Their life had been great just as it was. Until Elijah saw her mark.
She tried to stop the spiral of thoughts that began to form. It was already too late to try to spare her heart the pain it was currently feeling. No matter how hard she tried to focus on helping Rebekah take care of him, one single thought played in her mind on a constant loop.
He knew they were soulmates and he tried pushing her away.
The moment Freya came running into the courtyard with Klaus and Kol behind her, Y/N pulled herself slowly away from the side of the couch. It was a way to not only keep the now unwanted attention of her facial expressions away but to give the necessary space Freya would need.
When she moved a little too far for Elijah’s liking, his hand grabbed a hold of hers. This time his grip was tighter in comparison to earlier. He was getting better, stronger. The venom from the wolf bites was leaving his system while the spell kept a tight hold over him.
Y/N's eyes met his one more time. She could tell he was pleading with her to stay there with his eyes. Almost to say that once Freya helped him he'd explain everything to her. That he needed her to stay there.
There was something in her eyes that changed a moment after his words had pierced the air. “Would you tell me if you saw the mark on someone else?”
“Of course.” He said even though it had been a lie. He knew he wasn’t going to speak of the very mark that was on his chest.
Her heart ached at the sudden memory that filled her mind. She wanted to break down. She wanted to run to get fresh air. Do anything that would allow her to process the information she had been given in the last few minutes.
Freya came over and knelt down beside Elijah, giving Y/N the chance to pull her hand away from Elijah. She took several back as she tried to decide if she wanted to stay or leave the area. But a heartbeat later she was mumbling some excuse and left the courtyard.
It was only when she was safely behind the door of her room, she felt more clarity than she had downstairs. The wave of emotions she felt calmed in comparison. While silent tears had begun falling, it hadn't felt like her world had come crashing to a halt as it had.
"For as many times as I've come here to hide away, there's never been another person here." Y/N said as she took in the stranger. "Might have to find a new one if this one is compromised."
"I can assure you, I've known about this place for a lot longer than you." The stranger looked towards her. "I may have been out of the city for some time, but I will know more about the history than you ever will.”
A laugh passed her lips causing a smile to form on his lips. “What if I told you I watched that town in the distance be built?”
His eyebrow raised slightly before he looked towards the town she had been speaking of. “I’d then ask if you knew what was out there before the town was built.”
“A small village.“ She responded. “One that was destroyed just a few years after I was born. There are stories of a creature that roamed the woods that surrounded that village. A creature that was hunted but never killed.” She shrugged her shoulders before looking back towards the stranger. “Though I’d love to hear what you have that can top that.”
He laughed for a moment before he placed his hand out between them. “I’m Elijah. And I assure you, I can surpass any story you’ve been told about the area.”
“That’s a challenge I’m willing to take.” She said as she placed her hand in his. “I'm Y/N.”
That year Y/N needed to get away from the life she had found herself in after being a vampire for a few centuries already. The mountaintop just above the town she was born in had always been her go to place to reevaluate her life as a human and as a vampire. That night, Y/N had been debating on watching the sunrise for the last time.
But Elijah had been there to pull her thoughts away from the sunrise and into a life that she had now thrived in. Elijah had been there when she needed him the most. Her soulmate had been the one to pull her back from the edge and she never knew it until now.
Elijah had saved her that night. He saved her and it wasn't long after he paid off a witch to create a daylight ring for her. A friendship shouldn't be had just in the dark. Those had been his words as he held up the daylight ring for her to take a few minutes before sunrise a few weeks later.
Her heart picked up in pace as her mind continued to accept everything that happened. The details of their meeting to this current moment made sense from a soulmate perspective. No matter how many times the flashes of memories played through her mind, there was no changing the facts.
"What if I don't want to marry my soulmate?" A young Y/N asked as she kicked her shoe at the dirt.
Her mother's laugh filled the air. "You don't always have to marry your soulmate. Sometimes it depends on what best suits the both of you. Your soulmate can be a best friend or even a lover. Sometimes they're both." She knelt down to Y/N's height. "There's one thing I know though. Having them in your life in any form is a whole lot better than not having them in your life or losing them. So when you are able to meet the person that knows your soul without needing to try hard, fight as hard as you can. Fight with them, for them and alongside them as needed." She ran her hand along Y/N’s cheek. "I know this doesn't make a lot of sense right now, but I promise one day you'll understand. "
The sound of the knock on her door followed by the door slowly opening had pulled her out of her thoughts and memories. Without even looking she had already known it was Elijah. She quickly wiped at her cheeks before she turned towards the door.
The moment she had, Elijah could see that the whirlwind of emotions he saw earlier in her eyes had shifted. Even as her eyes welled up, he could see the hurt along with acceptance. And if he was being honest with himself, the acceptance is what scared him.
He took a few steps further into her room before he came to a stop. "What I've done was-"
"Cowardice?" She finished for him before he got the chance to even form the next word. It made him raise his brow. "Because whatever reasoning you have for not telling me was the worst decision you have ever made. And I know there have been plenty of questionable decisions you've made."
"I know I should have told you that night." He gave a slight nod. "For a brief moment I wanted to. But then I realized the danger you would be in because of me."
She had already begun shaking her head before he finished speaking. "Danger that I haven't already been in from just being close with you. Or to your siblings for that matter." She watched as he opened his mouth to speak but she quickly continued to stop him. "I know it's not the same. Putting it out there makes it more real and practically puts a target on both of us. I know what that target looks like. That just means we'll be better prepared for it."
She knew from experience how easy it was to use a soulmate as leverage. How easy it was to threaten them to get someone to bend to their will. There was a dark decade in Y/N's existence where she had once toyed with humans and their soulmates. A time where her humanity had been switched and she hadn't cared.
She knew the tricks that could be played. She knew how much damage someone could take before they snapped. The emotional torment that could be played on both parties to get the point across was something she lived for during that dark decade.
At least that was until her humanity had been forcefully switched on. She tormented herself afterwards on how she could carelessly manipulate people by using the one weakness they all had. It was part of the reason she found herself heading back to the mountaintop.
"If today has taught me anything it's that you were safer without me near." He watched as her eyebrow raised before he continued. "While having you by my side would have been beneficial for many reasons, I watched as my worst fear played through my mind because of a spell. A spell that provided sufficient reasons on why I was right on my decision to not say anything."
"A spell that was used to distract you.” She noted. It explained why he had seemed so relieved at seeing her safe. "And a fear that we could have worked out beforehand if you simply had told me. I spent the last several hours wondering how and when I had become the problem. Part of me knew that you had found your soulmate and that was why you were pushing me away. That maybe you were trying to distance yourself from me to make room for them." Her eyes began to well up. "I just never thought you'd be pushing me away because I am your soulmate."
Elijah shook his head slightly as guilt filled him. He could see in that moment how hurt she had been by it. The emotions she had displayed when he first came into the room broke down bit by bit. And the thought that she believed she was the problem stung him in ways he never believed it would.
"I don't know if I can be what you need me to be." He said a moment later. "It has been proven time and again that whenever I let an ounce of happiness into my life, it's quickly taken away. I refuse to have the same thing happen to you. And if that means keeping you at a distance or even you leaving the city-"
"Nothing has to change!" She cut him off as she shook her head. "We have been by each other's side for over a century without even knowing we were soulmates. We have been through hell and back together without even questioning how it was possible. I have fought by your side not caring if I died in the process." She wiped at her cheeks as more tears escaped. "I will continuously be by your side even after this. I don't care if it is as something more or keeping things as it has been. But don't you dare for one moment think that I would be safer with you pushing me away or even deciding that it's better without you in my life."
He sighed softly before taking a few steps to close the distance between them. "If anything were to ever happen to you because of me, I'd never be able to forgive myself." His hand came up to her cheek before using his thumb to wipe away more of her tears.
"It's going to happen with or without you in my life." Her eyes met his. "I am no stranger to being threatened by your family. I have had Klaus's hand on my heart and I'm still here in front of you." She placed her hand on top of his as she leaned into his touch slightly. A way to prove that she was there. "I am not even a stranger to having a witch use me as leverage or even used to fight against you. I can leave tonight and what's to stop anyone from coming after me once it's actually figured out?" She watched as he took in her words. "This isn't just one sided either. I am afraid of what each new threat could mean for you. I want and need you to be safe, maybe even for my own selfish reasons. But I will not let you push me away without at least fighting to stay. I will continue to be by your side no matter how much you push. I will stand there by your side and face the enemy with you and die there with you if it comes to it. I will continue to be your friend or more if that is what you need and you'll never have to worry that I'll leave you. But I will not let you try and push me out of your life for the fear of what could possibly happen to me just because you're afraid to let yourself be happy."
Elijah's eyes never left hers as she spoke. He couldn't bring himself to look away from her. Not when he was seeing everything play through her eyes. Every emotion, every piece of history and hopeful future had been displayed within them. And he could no longer ignore what he'd been trying to avoid.
He knew everything she said was right. He would hate himself if anything happened to her while she was gone. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how it would feel if he ever learned the news that something had happened to her. He couldn't ignore the fact that throughout the years and even now she was fighting for her place to stay no matter how hard he tried to keep her at bay and safe in his eyes.
The same safety that he had been trying to provide her since the night they met. How broken her eyes had looked from the moment she took a seat next to him on that mountain top. And how everything within him had told him to protect her from anything. Even himself if it ever came to it.
But as he looked into her eyes now, he could see the woman that had become his best friend. The woman that stood there beside him as threat after threat came. How she cared for him in his moments of need even though he fought her on it. The one person he couldn’t go more than a few days without speaking with. It was why the thought of losing her scared him even more than he ever believed.
After a moment, Elijah nodded his head. “I give you my word that I will not push you away or ask you to leave.” His thumb gently moved along her cheek. He watched as something changed within her eyes. “I don't believe I could actually watch you leave, let alone be alone out there in the world. Nor can I picture a day where you are not in my life in some form or another. You have your selfish reasons and I have mine. But I have never wished for you to look so hurt as you have today and I will spend as much time as needed to make up for it. ” He looked elsewhere for a moment before looking back at her. “I just don’t know how things will change from here.”
The part of Y/N’s heart that expected the worst had felt relief. Relief that he wasn’t going to continue to push her away. Relief that he was willing to accept that they were soulmates and that she wasn’t going to go down or leave without a fight. And if anything, there was a small tug of a smile at her lips at his words.
“We continue as friends, just as we have.” She offered. “If in the future things change, we’ll go from there.”
A hum of agreement passed his lips as he pulled his hand away from her. As he did, He maneuvered his hand to take a hold of her’s, finding comfort in just holding her hand within his. Her offer of nothing needing to change played in his ears.
There was something within him that agreed with that. Mixed within the agreement was the hope that things would change for the better. But for now this was a step in the right direction. A step that meant he wasn’t going to push her away as he had planned to. It was in a direction that he strongly believed he’d never lose her in the way that he feared.
“We’ll handle things as we always have.” He nodded his head, a small smile pulling at his lips.
“Together?” She asked as a small hopeful smile pulled at her lips.
She could joke about how they would work together as she always had in the past. She could have added in how reckless they could be. How the calm and chaosbetween them would keep things interesting. But at that moment, she only needed the confirmation that it would continually be them against everything else that came at them.
“Together.” He promised with no intention of ever breaking that promise. Even when the world learned of the mark they share, he’d keep his promise and keep each other close to their sides. As a friend, as a potential lover, but most importantly as soulmates that would never have to live without the other.
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#The Vampire Diaries#The Originals#Elijah Mikaelson#Elijah Mikaelson fanfiction#Elijah Mikaelson imagines#Elijah Mikaelson x reader#Elijah Mikaelson x Fem!Reader#Elijah Mikaelson x y/n#Reader insert#x reader#Female Reader#Hidden Marks#Intertwined#The vampire Diaries imagines#The vampire Diaries fics#The Originals imagines#The Originals fics#TVD#TO#xxwritemeastoryxx writes 2023
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Shoko Just Can't be Right [2]
a series of snapshots of your life with geto and gojo
-> this part: what if shoko's convinced and maybe she's just right?
a/n: finally wrote the second part.... hehe.
pairing: satosugu x f!reader, shoko x f!reader
read the other parts here: one - two - three
-
"There is no way."
"Uh, yes, there is."
Sending Shoko a blank look, you scoff.
But, as per her style, she doesn't relent.
"Y/N," she deadpans, reaching across the desk to take your hands in her own, squeezing them enough to pull your gaze on her's once again. "I say this with complete and utter confidence, they're in love with you."
"Shoko," you call back, mimicking her tone; "they're in love with each other."
"True," she offers with a light shrug. "But also you."
Your mind blanks with the utter disbelief and ridiculousness of it all. "Is that even... possible? I mean, to be in love with two people at once?"
You didn't think so.
"Probably," she shrugs, "I mean with love anything's possible, right?"
And you can tell with the shit-eating grin on her face, she's finding this all too funny. Honestly, if you were on her side of things, you'd probably get a kick out of the whole thing as well but alas, you weren't and it wasn't easy to ignore the crushing of your heart as the hope you're desperately trying to hold back tries to sliver it's way past.
Ugh. Hope. What an entirely stupid and ridiculous--
"They do say that."
Back straightening, every muscle in your body tightens at the sound of Gojo's voice. It was, honestly, the last person you wanted to hear right that second; by default just because it was, well, him, but also because with Gojo, Geto was usually trailing behind...
A glance over your shoulder tells you you're correct.
Just as you thought.
You catch Shoko perking up out of the corner of your eye, and instantly a sense of dread floods you; this cannot be good.
"What are you two talking about?" Geto asks, coming to a stop next to Gojo, hands shoved leasurely into his pocket, brow raised with curiosity.
"Well—"
"Nothing!" You cut in sharply before Shoko can finish, sending her a glare over your shoulder (to which she rolls her eyes), pushing yourself to your feet. "Actually, we should be going because we—"
"Awehhh!" A loud whine cuts you off, eyes flickering over to Gojo whose slumped over dramatically; "but I was hoping you'd wanna hang with us."
Hang with them?
Alone?
That sounds like both a blessing and absolute nightmare. Especially with the thoughts that Shoko has invested in your mind—you could barely look at them now without thinking about her words; they're in love with you. God, why did she have to go around telling you that?
Making you think—for even just a second—that that could ever be true.
Because it wasn't. Obviously.
Geto and Gojo loved each other. That was true. Yes, that had been true since the very first moment you'd laid eyes on the both of them. The last to join them in their first year. The two of them, including Shoko, had already gotten aquainted with one another (some more than others). The three of them had spent four whole months with just them and no one else and had been able to bond.
And then you came in.
Clueless about the jujutsu world and about what a jujutsu sorcerer even was. Your whole world had been turned upside down and you were far outside of your element.
And yet, despite all that, you'd walked into that classroom that day and amongst Gojo's rather cocky greeting, Geto's simple one and Shoko's enthusiastic one (she'd expressed her fondness quite plainly for no longer being the only girl), you'd seen how much Geto and Gojo loved each other.
They were pretty obvious about it, even if at the time neither of them had known about the other's feelings.
So, yes, Shoko couldn't be right. She knew she wasn't saying it all to be mean, she wasn't like that—clearly she'd seen or heard something that had lead her to this incorrect assumption.
Because that's all it was.
An assumption.
One you wouldn't let yourself be swayed by for one second.
"Y/N?"
Blinking, you're pulled from your thoughts with a snap, focusing in on Geto who's leaning down to meet your gaze, concerned, with a baffled Gojo slightly behind him, the both of them looking at you rather intensely.
And, when you turn your head to the right, Shoko's gone.
"Are you okay?"
"Where..." Your words trail, in disbelief.
"Oh," Geto mumbles, pulling back as he realizes where you're looking. "She left for a smoke, said that she didn't mind rescheduling your plans. I do believe she added to the end of it, 'anything to get Gojo to shut up'."
"Hey!"
That sneaky little—
You turn to face both boys, quite honestly dumbstruck.
But then Gojo is shoving his face in yours, grinning; "so? Let's go!"
You sputter; "wh-where?"
-
To a sweets cafe. That's where.
Gojo all but drags you there, ignoring your protest to at least let you change, simply calling over his shoulder that; 'you look adorable!' which absolutely was not true. You hadn't worn your uniform that day since it wasn't a school day, and you and Shoko had had plans to spend the day together campus which had lead you to wear a simple skirt with an oversized sweater over it. You weren't expecting to leave or go out or least of all be going out with both Geto and Gojo or else you would've probably dolled yourself up at least a little.
Which, yes, Gojo's words, albeit simple, did leave you even more flustered, cheeks flushed and stuttering for a response all whilst Geto chuckled lightly behind you, clearly amused to himself.
But both Geto and Gojo are dominating of your time and don't allow you even a second of an escape, chatting your ears off happily whilst Gojo goes to the counter to order an array of sweet, leaving you and Geto to find a table.
You have to admit that the cafe is quite cute and the sweets you'd managed to grab for yourself (with the help of Geto, who promptly slapped Gojo's hand away when he tried to steal one of them) were delicious. Geto had gone back to the counter to order you a drink and although you weren't always used to be with either of them alone, the two of them were chatty enough that you didn't feel awkward or tense with silence.
It wasn't that you didn't get along with them. You did. Despite your rocky first impression of Gojo, you got along with the both of the extremely well.
But that was at school. In class. Or, at the very least, with Shoko. You weren't used to having to fend off the both of them and although you cared for them both greatly, they were both intimidating in different ways.
In ways you weren't.
Shoko always said you were too quiet. Too easy. You said yes to anything someone asked you of and you didn't often argue even if it wasn't something you weren't comfortable with. It had taken Shoko months before you properly opened up to her, but Geto and Gojo were confident and skilled and people seemed to bend over backwards for them just because, well, they were them.
People treated them differently than they treated you because you were quiet where they were loud, nervous where they were confident, and soft where they were hard.
(Little did you know that Geto and Gojo absolutely adored this about you—despite how incredibly self-conscious you were about it yourself).
Still, the day goes on well. And you find yourself rather enjoying their company.
You've all been there for just over an hour when you excuse yourself to the washroom, slipping past Geto in a way that has your cheeks burning red and flustered as you make your way to the ladies room.
It's on your way back that things take a bit of a downward shift.
A firm hand wraps itself around your upper arm, halting you in your tracks and pulling a surprised gasp from your lips as your world is tilted on it's axis briefly.
Then, suddenly, there's a group of boys surrounding you.
"Hey," one of them smiles at you, though it's all cold and no warmth. "Do you go to school around here? Don't think we've seen you before."
"And I think we'd remember a face like yours." Another one pipes up, your head shifting to the right to find him towering over you.
The one on your left steps closer, smirking down at you. "Noticed it as soon as you walked in here," he grins, wide and menacing. His eyes drift across you, low in a way that makes your chest tighten uncomfortably, then back up to your eyes. "You new?"
They're too close.
"N-No," you force out, shaking your head as you try to push them away. "Sorry, my-my friends are—"
"Yeah, those two guys, right?"
A hand falls on your back, and you tense.
"We could show you a far better time, you know?"
"Yeah," a laugh, "why settle for them, when—"
Another hand falls on you. But it's different. Warmer. Familiar.
You're pulled away and tucked against a chest, glancing up to see Geto's familiar figure looming behind you, his gaze threatening but it instantly softens as he glances down at you.
Gojo steps in front of you, blocking you from their view.
"I do believe you're making Y/N uncomfortable," Gojo grounds out and his voice is so unlike anything you've ever heard. It's dark, cruel, all trace of his usual goofiness and teasing gone.
You can't see his face, but if it's anything like Geto's, you're sure the face matches his tone.
"I would fuck off now." Geto growls from behind you, low enough you feel his chest rumble in reaction. "Before we make you."
You don't see it. Geto doesn't let you. But none of the three boys even get a word out before they're scampering off with paled skin and pleading cries of mercy, racing out of the cafe and not sparing another glance back.
What—
Gojo spins to face you and he's grinning, wide and bright, stepping towards you. "Sorry about that darling," he calls out, ruffling your hair. "We got worried when you took a while to come back."
"Should've called for us," Geto mumbles, squeezing your shoulder in a soft, reassuring sort of way. "Let us know you were in trouble."
Gojo's hand falls on your cheek, cupping it, face suddenly serious but not in the same menacing way as before but concerned. "We'll always come when you're in trouble."
Geto nods; "so, don't feel afraid to rely on us."
They're in love with you.
Shoko's word taunt you in the back of your mind, completely stunned by Geto and Gojo as they move to walk, neither of them letting go of you, Geto's hand on your back and Gojo's hand wrapped around yours, leading out of the cafe.
They're close. They still close. Refusing to slip away.
I mean with love anything's possible, right?
Shoko just couldn't be right. She just couldn't...
Could she?
#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#geto suguru x reader#satosugu#satosugu x reader
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cold nights // part four
summary: all the stars aligned, and it was you.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 2.9k
masterlists / nav / requests
tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.
a/n: this is your reminder to reblog and comment on fics you like!! it helps us writers out a TON the girlies who get it get it. thanks!!
series masterlist // playlist
"I just have to ask you a few questions... is that okay?" Coriolanus asks, sitting across from you at the small table you find yourself chained to.
"Please." You nod, grinning at him. You were so tired, the bags under your eyes were evidence enough of that. Screw getting you food- Coryo is worried if you don't sleep you'll be all but useless in the games, even if all he needs you to do is run and hide.
"It's just so people can get to know you a bit better. Okay, so..." He looks down at the sheet in front of him, tapping the pencil against the table as he tries to focus on reading. "First, nice and easy, what is your full name?"
"Y/N M/N L/N."
"Great... Okay, and where are you from?"
"District Twelve, born and raised."
"How old are you?"
"Seventeen. I'll be eighteen next week." You smile.
"Oh, really?" He asks, pausing mid-sentence as he starts writing it down.
"Yeah." You smile. "Hopefully I'll live to see the day."
"You will." He tries to be reassuring as he scribbles the finished answer on his sheet. God, you got unlucky. Not that his eighteenth was a big celebration like some of his classmates, but Tigris made him a cake with ingredients she'd been saving up for and she refit his school uniform for him. You wouldn't even have that- you would be spending the day fighting for your life, if you even made it that long.
"And who is in your family unit?" He reads directly from the slip as he forces himself to move on.
"Well, there's me, my brother, he's fifteen, and then my ma and pa." You nod. "Well, my pa isn't home much. Lots of work in the mines; usually has sixteen-hour days. I hardly ever see him." You admit, sadness laced into your tone. "Saw him, I mean."
"My father died in Twelve." Coryo says, catching you off guard. He doesn't even fully understand why he felt the need to tell you this. "About ten years ago, it was rebels."
"I remember that." You reply quietly, recalling the lockdown placed on the District after the murder of a peacekeeper general. "He was the general. Crassus Snow, I assume?"
"Yes."
Everyone was forced into their homes at gunpoint, and in search of the responsible parties everyone you knew had their home destroyed by peacekeepers. Yourself included. Your bed was torn apart, and your mattress shredded for any hidden weapons or plans. Since then, you have shared a bed with your brother. A new mattress was hard to make, and your ma never got the free time or materials again.
Up until this week, that was the scariest day of your life. Just before the peacekeepers kicked in your door, your mother had grabbed the two of you and shoved you into an opening under the floorboards- a crawlspace made from a faulty foundation. You were in there for what felt like hours, listening to shouting and your home being ruined as you held onto each other with a hand pressed over your brother's mouth to keep him from crying too loud. Your mother's cries that day never seemed to end.
"It's a small world." You say after a solid few moments of silence, and Coryo can see it in the way you're staring at his paper that you're not reading it. You're zoned out completely. "I'm sorry that happened to you. It must have been scary."
"The war was hard on all of us." He responds. "What... what do you remember?" He had never heard anything about it besides the bare bones of what happened, he had never considered that the people of Twelve would remember it as well. And judging by the look on your face, it wasn't a good memory.
"I was about six, maybe seven, and I was playing with my brother, and I didn't hear anything but my ma must have because she grabbed us and hid us under the floorboards so fast I could have got whiplash. Peacekeepers came into our home, tore the whole thing to shreds, hurt my ma, then took off. Onto the next house. I didn't find out until a while later that rebels killed the peacekeeper general, they were looking for any evidence of conspiracy, I guess. The people who did it."
"Sounds like it was scarier for you than for me."
"But I want you to know," You speak so quickly you almost cut him off. "My parents had nothing to do with it. My pa is an honest, good man. All he ever wanted was to keep us safe. We're not rebels, I promise you that."
Coriolanus almost wishes you were, so he wouldn't be so hurt by what his people were putting you through. "I know. I wouldn't blame you for that."
"Thank you." You whisper, picking at your nails now as you look down at your shaky hands.
Coryo clears his throat, forcing himself to look away from you. "Uh..." He chuckles at the next question, making you look up at him again. "Are you married?"
"No." You reply, having almost completely forgotten about the worksheet in front of him. "I'm not."
"It's just... I just, I have to ask." He says, clearing his throat as he writes it down.
"Of course." You nod in understanding.
"Boyfriend?" He asks, and as you squint at the sheet you can see it's not there, and he quickly covers the next lines with his palm, cheeks flushing pink.
"Yes." You giggle as he snaps his head up to look at you.
"You do?" He asks, voice catching as his curls fall back onto his forehead from the sudden movement.
"Yes, what is so wrong in that?" You raise an eyebrow at him, trying not to laugh.
"No, no, I mean, of course you do, you're beautiful, I just, you never mentioned-"
"Relax, Coriolanus. I'm kidding." You smile at the panic in his tone. "No, I don't have a boyfriend."
"Oh, right. Thanks, it's just for, yeah..." He mumbles, pretending to write something down behind his cupped hand so you couldn't see.
You shake your head at him while he's not paying attention, smiling to yourself.
"So, uh, do you have a job?"
"Not formally, but my ma is a seamstress. I help her lots with that. Fixing people's work clothes, stuff like that." You answer, getting back on topic.
"Did you make your dress?" He asks.
"Now I know that question's not on that form of yours." You laugh. "But yes, my ma made it for me when I was five. It's been my favourite ever since."
He looked the parts of it over that he could see above the table. It was well worn down, but well cared for. Similar to a lot of his own clothing.
"It used to be this big, flowing thing. Too big for a five year old- I would step on the bottom of it, just tore it right up." You recall. "So we trimmed the bottom, and as I grew, it grew right with me. I stitched up the bottom when I was old enough to enter the reaping, so now it's got shorts instead. But I still love it, lots of good memories held in the pockets of this old thing."
Shorts instead. So it's easier to run in. The thought haunts Coryo for a moment. The idea that you, at twelve years old, decided this is what you would want to run in, to die in, and took the liberty of sewing up the crotch in it yourself. Every stitch possibly sealing your fate.
"It's nice. I like it." He responds.
"Thank you." You smile, nodding proudly to yourself as you look down at the fabric. "It's real comfy, too."
"It looks it. Not very... restricting." He chooses his words wisely. No wonder you had kept it so many years. It still fit, so why not? Especially when it looked so good on you. The typically plain, neutral tone of the fabric complimented your skin tone so well. Even in bad lighting, it seemed as though you were glowing where the cloth met your skin. Glowing everywhere, now that he thought about it. Maybe you just lit up every room you walked into. Maybe it wasn't the clothing that was made just for you and hugged your form so flawlessly, maybe it was just you.
"Yes, it is not." You agree. "Now, our time is limited. Next question." You interrupt his thoughts, gesturing to the sheet of paper in between you.
"Yes, sorry." Coryo chuckles, shaking the distraction from his head. "Any hobbies?
"Reading."
"I did know that." He smiles to himself. "Anything else?"
"Well..." You think about it for a moment, chewing your lip. "I have a cat, and I like to play with him and take care of him, does that count?"
"I'll count it." He nods, quickly jotting it down. "What's your cat's name?" He asks, purely out of curiosity.
"Tybalt." You giggle.
"Tybalt?" Coryo tilts his head at you and you nod, bottom lip drawn between your teeth.
He nods slightly, prompting you to explain. "He's named after a character from Romeo and Juliet."
"That's your favourite, I remember."
"Good king of cats, nothing but one of your nine lives." You quote. "Mercutio calls Tybalt the king of the cats, so I named him after that."
"That's clever. Very funny."
"Thank you. I thought so." You smile proudly, watching him write down your cats name in his notes. "What is this for, if I can ask?"
"Uh, there's going to be an interview you'll have to do the night before the games. It'll be aired live on Capitol television, and people will be able to send in donations so I can send you things in the arena. Just like I told you." Coryo explains.
"An interview?" You ask. "What does that entail?"
"Well, I'm not sure yet." He answers honestly. "But we'll pass this sheet onto the host, Lucky, if you remember him, and he can ask you questions about your family, your life, any of this stuff. I think really whatever we want, though, so if there's anything in particular you want to say or talk about I can write that down for you."
"Oh, I'm really not sure." You reply. "Nothing in particular, but if you need me to talk I can talk about books for hours on end." You smile.
"Could you do a monologue?" He suggests. He had discussed this with Tigris before, and he was hoping you would, but knowing you, you would be dropping quotes in your interview anyway so you might as well commit to it and display how smart you are with something well-planned.
"Maybe, if you could find me a copy of Romeo and Juliet." You smile. "I think I know it, but it would be nice to have a refresher. Just to make sure I get it right. Would be awfully embarrassing if I made a mistake."
Coryo nods, quickly writing that down in the margins of the page. Considering he had never even heard of this book, it may be hard, but he would certainly try for you. "That would be great. Your goodbye was very moving, although quite confusing for most, but it had people talking about you and that's what we want."
"Okay. I'll practice."
"Thank you." Coryo smiles. "And I just have one more question on here to fill out... Do you have any special skills that you think will be helpful in the games?"
Your smile fades slightly and you just shake your head.
"That's okay. We'll figure it out."
That night, Coryo came to see you again. You were curled up with his blanket, draped half over yourself and half over Jessup as he lay next to you. It was a small blanket, obviously meant for a child, but it helped anyway. Maybe it was just a placebo, but for you, that was more than enough.
As you got up, hearing him call your name in a familiar tone, you draped the blanket more fully over Jessup before making your way over to the bars of the enclosure. "Good evening, Coryo. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"I brought you some things." He whispers, digging in his bag.
"How kind." You smile, watching as he pulls things out, handing you a napkin with some bread wrapped inside and tucking whatever else he brought under his arm to give to you after you've eaten. "Can you sit for a few minutes?"
"Of course." He nods, sitting down with you as you cross your legs and unfold the fabric carefully as not to drop what's inside. "I was hoping to talk to you anyway."
"Let's talk; it is not day." You smile, leaning toward him more.
"Should I be asking what that's from?" He jokes, but is surprised when you shrug.
"You could, but I wouldn't want to bore you." You giggle, shaking your head. "Take a guess, though. I believe you'd know it."
He smiles, watching as you take a bite out of the bread. "Romeo and Juliet?"
"Yes." You nod in confirmation, covering your mouth while you speak. "You're a real fan, now, aren't you?"
"I guess so." He chuckles. "The fact that I've never read it is unimportant."
"Completely irrelevant." You agree with a quiet laugh. His smile fades as his eyes land on something behind you, and you turn to follow his gaze over your shoulder. "What are you looking at?" You whisper, looking back at him again.
"Are you sharing everything I bring you with Jessup?" He asks, voice stern as his brow furrows at the question.
"I try to." You nod, taking another bite. "He's not well. I think something bit him the first night we were here."
"You can't." Coryo insists. Of course, he wants you to win, and you handing over every bit of sustenance or help you receive is only lessening your odds. Making Jessup stronger and you only weaker. "I know you're a good person, but once you get in that arena you won't have any friends. Not even him." Coryo explains, strategically skipping over the part where it makes him ill to see you sleeping with your head on the boy's shoulder and sharing the blanket that he gifted to you.
"Oh..." You say, so quietly he can hardly hear. "But-"
"Y/N." He cuts you off, a serious look on his face. "If you keep feeding him, keep helping him, and it comes down to you and him in the end, who do you think will win in that fight? If you had all the same nutrients and sleep, who do you think will win?"
"I- well..." You stutter, looking back at your friend. "It won't come to that. I think we both know that."
"We have to assume it will." He pleads, eyes now locked on yours. "Don't make it easier for him."
"Coryo, he's got a family, siblings, his ma to get home to. They need him." You protest, leaning closer so no one else could properly hear.
"So do you." He reminds you. The look of guilt that crosses your face indicates to him that even though you had your own family, something about Jessup makes you willing to give that up for him to get home. "What about Tybalt? He'll never know what happened to his own mother. Or your brother losing his sister. Y/N, please..."
Your eyes widen at the mention of your cat and your brother in particular. Clearly, Coryo is so desperate for you to listen that he's pulling strings he shouldn't. To make you hurt. To make you pay attention.
Tears fill your eyes as you speak. "I know." Your voice cracks, and the pit in Coryo's stomach tells him he's gone too far. "I'm sorry, I just- I don't want to be afraid anymore. It's selfish of me, I know, but I won't last long and I know that so I just want to get it over with." You cry quietly, reaching up to wipe your eyes on your wrist. You hadn't been so candid with him before, he almost doesn't recognize you without a smile on your face.
"Hey, no, don't be sorry. It's not selfish." He whispers, without hesitation reaching through the bars and resting his hand on your knee. Your skin is cold to the touch, even for him after he had just walked all the way here in the same air. "But it'll be over soon, and I'll get you home. I'll do everything I can."
You sniff and nod, hesitating before placing your hand over his. "I promise I'll do my best in the interview. I want you to win your prize."
Coryo's mouth gets dry at the insinuation. You didn't think you could win, you won't even consider it even with all the encouragement he tries to feed you every day, but you want him to win. "That's not important." He says, shocking himself with the sentiment. The Plinth Prize is his only hope at a viable future, at saving his family. But right now, he doesn't even care.
You don't respond right away, just sliding your hand under his to hold it. His skin on yours feels warm, comforting, the same way it did when he held it when you were first dumped in the zoo. You don't know if it's more comforting to you or him.
"I'm sorry to cry at you, I just sometimes realize what's going to happen to me and spiral over the possibilities and no matter how hard I try to accept it..." You shake your head, looking down at your hands. "I'm still fearful." Your voice drops below a whisper.
"Then don't accept it." Coryo grasps your hand tighter, leaning closer to you and looking at you through the bars. "Fight. Try to win."
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#tbosas fic#tbosas#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#tbosas x reader#coriolanus snow#hunger games#the hunger games#thg fanfic#thg series#thg#thg fanfiction#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus x you#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus fanfiction#coryo x reader#coryo snow#snow x reader#snow lands on top
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