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violetrainbow412-blog · 10 months

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Decoy [S. R.]

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 6.9k

summary: when you go after an unsub who catches students making out, the unit is called upon to resort to desperate measures. Or in other words, where you and Spencer become the decoy to catch a voyeur.

warnings: +16. Making out, mentions of alcohol, mentions of violence, insinuation of smut, sexual tension

Do yourself a favor and imagine Spencer in these clothes during the case

You sighed, completely frustrated, while you looked for the thousandth time at the blackboard with some information from the profile that you had made for the criminal in this case.

You believed that the unsub was a Caucasian man between 30 and 35 years old, whose motive was to spy on and photograph university students who were escaping in their cars to make out at night, then force them to have sex in front of him and finally kill them cold-blooded. You imagined that he was a person with a mediocre job, that he felt insufficient, and that his voyeuristic behavior probably came from sexual frustration, something that could be corroborated by the violence that he inflicted on the genital area of the students whom he stalked using a knife, his mark on all homicides. You also believed that perhaps the rejection or abandonment of his last partner (preceded by a bad streak from his youth) due to his impotence had been the triggering event for all his repressed impulses to come to light.

All the psychological analysis was fine, it wasn't something you hadn't seen before, but the hard part of all this? Because he only threatened and killed people, he didn't rape them, at first it was almost impossible to tell who it was. He already had 20 victims in total and you weren't even close to catching him. In the last scene he had made the mistake of leaving a fingerprint and Garcia had been able to trace his true identity: Oliver Davis, a guy who fits the description perfectly. Unfortunately, this turned out to be useless because beyond the accusations of being a pervert, the man didn’t have much information that would give a clue to his whereabouts, you had even called the job that he had registered and all you had obtained was that he had several months without working there, which coincided with the beginning of the murders. After that Rossi suggested that he probably lived in a trailer (old, due to his lack of employment) where he developed the photographs and kept his trophies. That only made more sense when you thought that it would make it easier to transport or escape in case things got messy.

But words on paper and intelligent conclusions were of absolutely no use to you. You needed a plan to catch him.

"Do you have something, Reid?" Hotch had asked. You had already interviewed some students, you had set up guard duty to look for any suspicious behavior and you had even shared the photograph of the suspect in the media, but nothing had worked; The only thing left was to carry out the geographical profile to know the area in which he was attacking and thus be able to search for possible targets.

“I triangulated the locations we have of his previous homicides and I'm guessing he hits in this specific area,” he muttered, pointing to a space on the map he had on his blackboard with his middle finger. “Considering it's an area frequented by the age group due to its proximity to the universities and that it has several parks that the students told us they use to drink or go out as a couple”

"So what?" Morgan said from his spot. "We just wait until he kills someone else and hopefully we're near the scene to hear the screams?"

“Maybe we can ask the cops to patrol the area for the unsub's car,” JJ suggested.

“He's smart, there's a trailer park right here. It wouldn't be strange to find one on the streets as well.” Reid was visibly frustrated like everyone else and he ran a hand through his hair with some despair.

Your options were running out and frankly you couldn't think of anything else.

“And if we give him a target?” Emily murmured. Noticing that none of you said anything, she went on to explain her plan, “We ask police officers to send any young people they see around to home so we force our unsub to get close to who we want”

"And what are we going to do? Hire a couple of college kids to stalk them?”

“We can use our own team”

"Not to offend you, Prentiss, but we are no longer in the prime of youth"

"We don't, but Y/L/N and Reid do" when you heard your last name you were surprised, but when you heard your friend's you practically froze. First you looked at her and then at the doctor, whose gaze reflected the same stupefaction as you "You two are young, you might look like students"

"Are you saying you want to send us straight into the hands of a sexual predator?" you couldn't be offended, after all, those risks were part of the job, but you did feel somewhat reluctant about the idea.

“Do you have a better suggestion?”

“It doesn't sound so bad” Rossi murmured “It's a smart move”

“Besides, we would be watching around and we would intervene before that madman got close to you. Once we catch him, the photographs and personal items that he probably has in his trailer will be enough evidence, in addition to the fingerprint from the last crime scene” to your surprise, Derek was also pretty convinced of the plan that Emily had just devised.

"Reid, Y/L/N, would you guys be up for it?" Hotch exclaimed with his usual serious tone, looking at you and then at your partner.

Thinking objectively, the suggestion was very good. But thinking about it personally, you felt worried about the danger you two would be running into… oh, God. It wasn't until then that you realized that the plan to catch the suspect involved the two of you making out like a couple of hormonal college kids.

You knew that the options that remained wouldn’t be as opportune as that and taking into account the temporary nature with which Oliver operated, in addition to the fact that he was already deteriorating as a murderer, it was most likely that he was already looking for new victims, so if you did that same night the chances of success were quite high. You were between a rock and a hard place and all you could do was look at him while the gazes of the rest of the room were divided between the two of you.

“I… I'll only do it if you say yes” you exclaimed in his direction, with a cautious voice and a fearful look. You knew your friend and you didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable in any way, even though you knew that both you and he knew that your personal interests would take precedence against the possibility that another couple of victims would lose their lives if you refused. It was your job, you had to do it.

"Are you sure you guys are going to catch him before something happens?" Spencer asked your boss. You thought that with his background the last thing he wanted was to end up kidnapped or seriously injured again, even though the truth was that he was caring just as much about himself as he was about you. He had seen the photographs and knew that women were the most affected by the murder weapon… he didn't even want to imagine something like this happening to you.

"Of course. You will have communication with us and if something goes wrong we will get you out of there immediately" Aaron answered and your friend sighed nervously and then looked for your approval. You nodded slightly and he delivered the verdict, to which everyone agreed.

He was still standing, but after that he slumped into the nearest chair as he listened to everyone brainstorming ideas for setting up the scene, distributing the crew, and what they would tell the local police to do to make the decoy effective.

At some point you lost the whole point of the conversation, to start thinking about what was implied by what you were about to do.

The feeling of attraction for your co-worker had been latent in you for a couple of years, but you had never confessed it to anyone to avoid creating tension in the team or suffering the humiliation of certain rejection. Also, you knew that a crush meant distractions from what was truly important and you had tried, in vain, to eliminate it completely. But even if it hadn't completely gone, you had known how to control it, only allowing yourself to look at him with loving eyes from time to time and avoiding being too confident with him during group drinking outings. You even limited physical contact, not because you didn't like it but because you knew your greed would demand more and more of you until it became inevitable to beg for his touch. But now all that good work holding you back was screwed because in a few hours you would have to be passionately making out with him.

Still with the internal crisis, you raised your head to look at him and realized that he too had been submerged in his own tide of thoughts, which you hoped would be more positive than yours. At some point Spencer felt you watching him and when his eyes met yours he gave you that tight-lipped smile that was strangely comforting, to which you responded with the same gesture. After that it didn't take long for everyone to leave the room to fulfill their respective tasks, but you stayed seated because you honestly didn't feel enough energy to move. Besides, you had nothing entrusted to you, you were the bait.

"Hey, are you sure you're okay with this?" Spencer asked you, once everyone else had left. He looked so tired of everything, but at the same time there was a kind tone in his voice about him that made you smile.

“It's just kissing, Spence. I think we'll be fine" you assured him, trying to swallow all your embarrassment and nerves "And you?"

"I agree. I just hope we get lucky today or we'll just have to keep trying”

"Reid, I need you to tell the cops what area we'll be in," Hotch interrupted you from the door. "You still have time to regret it," he added, looking at the two of you.

You immediately denied and after that Spencer withdrew from there in the company of Aaron. When you were about to drop you exhaled, completely concerned about the last thing your partner had said.

We will just have to keep trying. You didn't know if the idea excited you, or terrified you.

As night fell, Spencer drove the old pickup truck the unit had managed to rent for the two of you to drive into the park, with you in the passenger seat and a six-pack of beer in the backseat.

Although you were sure that it would be cold, you had decided to wear shorts and a button-down shirt that you normally wore for work, but that you had adjusted to make it look more youthful. Spencer was wearing an outfit that Morgan had gotten for him from a department store, simple jeans with a rather baggy cotton shirt and some nice boots that you didn't know where he got from, since in Quantico you had never seen him wear anything like that.

Both of you had showered at the hotel (separately of course) and you had made sure to brush your teeth and put on a good amount of deodorant and perfume before getting in the car. You had paid special attention to your appearance, not because it was necessary, but because you wanted to look perfect for him. Even with all this, you were a nervous wreck next to him, not saying a word along the way and only soft music from the radio filling the air.

When you stopped, the two of you put your headphones on to the channel the team was supposed to be on, and Morgan answered in the affirmative.

"Remember, he doesn't have to see the communicator or your weapon," Rossi spoke, who was also in the van, along with Prentiss and Hotch. "García will be watching with the security cameras and he will warn us if the trailer is coming"

"And meanwhile what do we do?"

"Pretend to be a couple, sit on the tailgate and drink beer, laugh, I don't know"

“Did you ever run away like that in college?” you asked, directly at Reid.

“Do you remember that I was like 16 when I studied at the university, right? I wasn't even old enough to drive, much less a car" he muttered and you gave a short laugh "I guess you did"

“I was too busy being the best in the institution to even think about going out and making out with idiots,” you replied, proud of yourself for that. “I mean, it's not like you're an idiot, but they were. You're very smart," you rambled, still twiddling your fingers, "Hotch, you guys will tell us when we're going to start kissing, will you?"

“When the suspect approaches, yes”

"Okay, well... then we have to go out, huh?" you muttered to him as you reached for the beers and tried to open the door to get out. You turned, expecting to see Spencer do the same as you, but noticed that he had lingered in the car for a moment, checking himself in the mirror and applying his lips with chapstick.

My God, could that man make you more nervous?

When he finally caught up with you, you went to the back of the pickup, where you opened the tailgate to sit down with a little hop. Spencer was tall enough to keep up with you just by leaning over the edge, where you watched him cross his arms. You were silent for a few moments, listening to the sound of crickets and cars in the distance.

"Do you think it's a good idea to drink?"

"Only a little. I'm having a hard time thinking while sober, I don't want to ruin the little reasoning I have left” you exclaimed as a joke. Or maybe you weren't joking so much "Just empty a couple of cans and leave them on the floor so he'll think we're really drunk." Spencer was about to do what you said when you noticed an important detail and called him over to look at you "Come here, let me fix your hair."

"What's wrong with my hair?"

"You're very well combed, it's not the image we expect" you carefully took his hand until it was close enough to pass the other through all his golden locks, messing them up enough to give him that relaxed touch that he should have. He looked so handsome, but not in the style of a fancy FBI agent but just like a young intellectual who went to parties and smoked weed “Like this. Perfect"

“Do you think we have to think of some backstory?” he asked and you looked at him with a frown. “You know, something about us. What degree are we studying, what are our names…”

"This is not a play"

"It's rude to eavesdrop on conversations, Prentiss," you said visibly annoyed, although looking at your partner that expression softened "As you wish, Spencer. Although being honest, I would say that you study… literature”

"Really?" he exclaimed with slight enthusiasm. You knew that his mother had been a teacher in the subject and you wondered if he had ever considered it.

“Morgan wasn’t wrong to choose those clothes for you. It suits you” you complimented him and Morgan whistled from the other end of the line. You felt like you were having too much fun for the situation you were in, but you needed to talk about something else to put off the reminder of what you had come to do for as long as possible. “I think you would have that hopeless philosopher/romantic vibe who flirts by whispering memorized poetry in your ear.”

“I actually know some good ones”

"Sure you do" you smiled gently, suppressing the thought of him sighing close to your neck at Bécquer "I'd probably study science or something."

"The unattainable scientist with whom the captain of the soccer team has a secret crush, but she is completely unaware"

"Where did you get that? From a 90s movie?

Spencer's laugh was one of your favorite sounds and today that was precisely not helping your situation. You felt intoxicated by how handsome he looked, like you'd discovered a side to him that no one else had, and the thought of kissing him made you tremble a little with anticipation.

“Do you want to share a beer?” he murmured, carefully opening the can and offering it to you first. You knew your partner wasn't the most enthusiastic about doing anything that involved germs, so it made you feel good that he took the lead. You took a big gulp of the drink to gather something of value and when it was his turn to drink he kept looking at you intently, you would even say that he seemed entranced.

You had made sure you were in a strategic position, with enough light for the unsub to see you and quite lonely, except for the patrol cars and the van that had been positioned at a safe distance.

“How does voyeurism develop?” you asked quietly, with genuine interest, as you shifted a bit to get closer to him.

“Voyeurism usually begins in adolescence and since during that age it is usually seen with greater tolerance, there are people who continue with these behaviors until adulthood. When voyeurism is pathological, they spend considerable time looking for opportunities to watch, often at the expense of not fulfilling important responsibilities in their lives, and people reach orgasm by masturbating during or after watching. Although if you think about it a bit, everyone is a bit of a voyeur."

"Why you said so?"

“Many men and women enjoy viewing pornography, which can be classified as voyeuristic behavior. It's not a worrying thing, but it's interesting to think about it” he explained, with those expressions on his face that he had every time he shared knowledge with you. He liked that about you, that you were always willing to listen to his data and statistics even at the most inopportune moments.

"I'm still a little scared that Oliver is trying to do something to us."

“I have my gun. If he tries to do something to you, I'll use it" you knew that killing the unsub was always the last option Reid considered, so you widened your eyes a little to show your surprise "All lives are worth, but when that life has already taken so many and it puts you at risk, I would not doubt it. You have nothing to worry about” he assured you and your heart warmed a little at feeling so protected.

"Do you know if Oliver attacks at a specific time?"

"No, he doesn’t. Just as we can be here for ten minutes, we can also be here all night."

You exhaled loudly, before taking another gulp of beer.

“Drink some, boy. I feel kind of selfish around here."

"I am nervous"

"And why do you think I'm drinking?" you exclaimed wryly, still holding out the can to him, and when he finally agreed he drank a little more than you expected “Have you ever…” you started to say, but suddenly remembered that literally the whole team was listening to you. If the answer was embarrassing, you didn't want to hear Morgan and Emily taunting you all week, so you covered your microphone for a moment and spoke again, but so quietly that only he could hear you. "I suppose you kissed someone, did you?"

"Yes," he said quickly and you sighed with relief. It comforted you a little to know that it wasn't his first kiss, because you didn't want him to have such a bad memory “Do I look so inexperienced?"

"No, that's not what I meant" you smiled "You're handsome, I know you've probably kissed a couple of girls"

"You don't need to tell lies, you know I'll kiss you anyway"

"But it's not a lie. I really think you're handsome" you confessed, gathering all the courage in you, while you smiled at him in the most serene way possible "And if we weren't literally waiting for a murderer, you know I'd be happy to do this with you"

"Smooch me?"

"Having this bad date attempt, Reid," you hissed, flushing red, as you slammed your palm into his forehead with just a little bit of force. Spencer seemed quite pleased that he made you nervous, rather than the other way around, so he grinned, “Though I think we should have brought food. I'm starving,” you pouted, swinging your dangling legs back and forth.

"That's not a picnic, Y/N"

You hated for a second that everyone was so intent on the conversation. A part of you wanted a moment alone with the brunette, even if it was in the midst of such a strange situation.

You began to talk pleasantly about things completely unrelated to the case for a couple of minutes, staying where you were, until Hotch's interruption made you jump a bit in place.

"Garcia intercepted an approaching trailer, get ready” your heart immediately sped up and you noticed him tense beside you, too, probably with the same thought flooding his head.

"Okay, come closer," you exclaimed, trying not to panic, as you spread your legs a little to allow the man to step into the space between. He wasted no time and just as you wrapped your hands around his shoulders you heard the sound of another car pulling up.

"Is that our unsub?"

"It is"

You were about to turn your head to peek when Reid grabbed your cheek and stopped you.

"He's smart. If you look at him, he'll realize it” he reminded you with a serious voice. You were so worried about everything that you were forgetting about your training “Okay, so I… Is it okay if I put my hands here?” he asked with a different tone, nervously placing both hands on your waist. You had always admired the size and anatomy of those hands, but until now you had not had the pleasure of feeling them on your body in this way.

“Tonight everything you do is fine. I promise"

"It would be a good time to start, he'll see you" Emily reminded you and you could only sigh shakily.

You two were adults, why were you so scared about kissing?

"Close your eyes" Spencer whispered to you, masking his nerves better than you "I'll kiss you, just close them," he asked you and you did.

You felt his body lean against you a little until his chest almost touched yours and then his lips shakily pressed against yours. You would always remember your first kiss, which in essence was such a brief caress that you didn't even know if it could be counted as one, the one where he wordlessly asked your permission to explore your mouth. Still with your eyes closed, you pulled him by the neck towards you and started a new kiss, a little more confident and deep this time, allowing you to savor the beer mixed with strawberries and that strange flavor that each person has.

“We…” you started to say, once you separated “you have to do it slowly, what he wants is a show” you exclaimed. Spencer felt unable to say any words and your hands caressing him so deliciously wasn't helping at all “Slow,” you repeated.

You arched your back a little to get even closer and when you finally looked up you met his caramel eyes. You needed a moment to recover and you unconsciously licked your lips, as if you needed to pick up and savor his presence in your mouth again, something that didn’t go unnoticed by his attentive look at your movements.

It didn't take long for you to give up, as beginning the third kiss you felt that you no longer had any control over your body, your heart, or your mind. And while it was true that neither of you were experts on the subject, you guys managed pretty well as the seconds ticked by. Spencer gasped as he simultaneously felt you pull the hair from his neck and caress his lips with the tip of your tongue, while you were taken by surprise when his hands left your waist and lowered to the height of your hip, where his thumbs gripped firmly on the clip of your shorts.

There was a kiss, then another and another; they became too many to count. You didn't want to touch him anywhere and at the same time you wanted to touch him completely, in the grip of the fantasy that this was real and not just a performance. And even if you were aware that it was all fake, that would probably only have encouraged you to enjoy something to the fullest that you knew would never come back. Amid everything you didn’t know which of the two situations would be worse.

The sound of your lips colliding became so obscene that you were embarrassed, but you had no plan to stop. Your hands slid gently down the length of his neck until you reached his chest and cupped the soft cotton of his garment in your fists to make sure he didn't move away from you. The heat of the moment just went up and up, but a voice on the intercom brought you back with a jolt.

“He started the trailer. He's going to go"

Spencer closed his eyes in frustration, and you sighed. From the position he was in it wasn’t possible to get around him without being seen, so keeping all his attention was on you and him.

Maybe you weren't doing it right? You wondered what the hell this man wanted to see if you were practically eating each other, but suddenly you remembered that his motivation was even more sexual than a couple of wet kisses. Maybe he was getting bored because he needed to see that you were about to… well, do it.

"Take off my shirt," you said immediately, still too close to his swollen lips and looking right into eyes that seemed to be pitch black.

"Take... what?"

"Take off my shirt" you repeated, with a tone that made the man shudder completely. With the hands that were still holding his shirt you pulled him to you and he held his breath “And kiss me better. Like you really want me"

But Spencer didn't need to pretend that he wanted you.

He made you completely dizzy when he began to kiss you so hungrily and you managed to keep enough composure when you felt one of his warm hands travel under your blouse, limiting yourself to letting out sighs that were drowned against his lips. But what finally caused you to let out an indiscreet and unwelcome moan was when he pulled you by the hip until you were on the edge of the tailgate and you could feel the growing bulge in his pants pressing against you. Spencer had almost managed to suppress his, but in the end, you having your own situation down there didn't help one bit.

His trembling fingers fussed with the buttons on your shirt until it ended up somewhere on the floor at incredible speed, leaving you half-naked before him and the collection of FBI agents standing around. You might have been embarrassed if your brain could connect two coherent thoughts, but you'd lost that from the moment Dr. Reid first dared to kiss you.

You carefully guided his hands to the beginning of the curve of your breasts and now you both sighed in unison, feeling goosebumps on every inch of your skin. You pushed yourself forward just for the satisfaction of hearing that guttural sound again and your prayers were immediately answered, for it was enough for him to feel the slightest friction and he would go crazy. It was inappropriate to need him like that, but you couldn't help it.

Holding your lower back, he leaned over you and at the same time pulled you towards him until your breasts collided with his chest. In that position, your neck was exposed and your partner’s hot lips didn't hesitate to go down there, while you sighed agitated just at the height of his ear. Spencer asked you, between each kiss, to look in the direction of the trailer to see if he was still there and as you could you answered yes, which was victory enough for both of you.

As he could, he maneuvered to lay you down carefully on the cold metal of the truck without stopping kissing your neck, and by inertia you wrapped both legs over his hip. When you were hidden by the panels of the pickup he finally looked at you.

"I hope it's enough to get his attention," he said, sounding as agitated as expected, and although the circumstances meant that you two would be taking a break you flatly refused, pulling him back to kiss him.

That kiss did take Spencer by surprise and it was perhaps the sincerest of the night. It wasn’t as passionate as the previous ones, but rather it was loaded with softness and you would even say that a hint of supplication. You were begging for him not to stop, for the night to get stuck in an infinite loop where the two of you could kiss for eternity. And suddenly you felt how he, who had been so tense the whole time, completely relaxed against you, as if he understood exactly what you wanted to say. His hands came to rest on the sides of your head to be able to kiss you more comfortably and you dared to take him by the waist with the same care that you were kissing him, feeling even above the cloth the softness of his skin.

And then he broke up with you. You feared you had done something wrong due to the suddenness of the movement and your frightened eyes searched his gaze for a sign of the reason, without finding anything. He just looked at you with something you couldn't describe, but that made you feel butterflies fluttering all over your stomach... and he stayed like that for a few seconds: just looking at you, as if he wanted to memorize all your features.

You opened your mouth to say something, but your words were drowned in a new kiss, totally different from the previous ones. Spencer was taking time with him, trapping your lower lip between his and sucking on it gently, pressing himself a little more against your body, sighing heavily into your mouth.

Your hand was already running up his side to make its way to his cheek just as screams filled the silence and you hugged him reflexively. The screams had come from Morgan, who had already moved across the park to take down the unsub and was now wrestling with him to get the knife out of his hand. Spencer hesitated for a moment if he should come over to help, but he preferred to hold you better against his body to protect you and wait for Emily to place the handcuffs on the man under her partner's knee.

From a distance you saw that he only brought with him, in addition to the knife, his camera, and a small backpack with some other murderous instruments that they managed to confiscate without any problem.

"All clear, we've got him," Hotch spoke over the radio. As you exhaled in relief too many emotions washed over you, combined with the adrenaline coursing through your body and the arousal still flowing into your crotch.

"Are you okay?" Reid's gentle voice called to you, as he pulled away to check with his eyes that everything was in order. His hair was messy and his lips were so swollen that it was almost painful to look at the image without launching yourself to kiss him again "My God, your shirt..." he said, completely embarrassed, as he bent down to pick up the garment. You looked him up and down and blushed when you noticed how tight his pants were, feeling your stomach turn a little. When he got up, he took the opportunity to look at your chest covered only by the black lace bra and a big gulp of saliva went down his throat.

You thanked him quietly and put your shirt back on, feeling the sneaky glances Spencer was giving you, just before Hotch walked up to you.

"How are you?"

"Very good, excellent" you stammered.

You could perfectly feel your swollen lips, the light sheen of sweat on your face, the heat flowing from all the places Reid's fingers had been, and the abundant moisture between your crossed legs.

After Hotch congratulated you on your performance, the two of you walked as best you could toward the rest of the agents, who were already placing Oliver on patrol. Another group was analyzing the trailer and they managed to pull out enough evidence about the murders that would be very useful in prosecuting the man.

"All good?" Emily asked in your direction, once things had settled down and the rest of the team had gathered in a circle by the van. You and Spencer just nodded at the question.

“I honestly think I'm going to need therapy after what I heard,” Dave murmured, so serious that you couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"Don't you even dare make fun of this"

“No, we won't. I'm just saying you guys seemed to be enjoying it there."

"That's supposed to be the plan, right?" Spencer said nervously, finally daring to look at you and looking away almost immediately as he smoothed his hair back.

Once your boss said you could retire you escaped in a patrol car as fast as you could, wanting to get home so you could take a cold shower and soothe what wasn’t satisfied by the man. You could hardly sleep that night, still haunted by the ghost of the kisses you received from your gorgeous coworker, and the next morning you hoped that double coffee would do the trick. But apparently you weren't the only one who thought so, because at the same time that you arrived Spencer Reid crossed your path.

"Hey," he said, in that high-pitched voice that came out when someone caught him off guard, "How are you?"

"Fine, and you?"

"Fine too"

You knew that the two of you wanted to talk about what happened, but it only took one of you to have the courage to speak first. At the same time your phones rang indicating a message and you mistakenly assumed that it was JJ contacting you to announce a case. What was your surprise when you opened the file and found a collection of photos from the night before. You knew from Spencer's face that he had received the same thing.

"Garcia did you… did she send you the same evidence?"

"That's right," he said nervously. You had to admit that if Oliver had one quality it was that of a photographer: you were sensual and perfectly captured the desire that had existed between you. Well, the one you had pretended to feel… right?

Spencer held his breath as he came to a picture of you topless in which his hand was practically on your breast, immediately remembering how that had felt. He just hoped his memories didn't affect him too much or it would be embarrassing enough to walk into the boardroom with a boner.

"They're good," you said to the air and he suppressed a laugh "But I can delete them if that makes you feel uncomfortable"

“No, no, I… I think I want to keep them too. After all, the bureau will have them in the files as evidence of the case, I prefer to have access too”

"I just hope she doesn't send them to anyone else, I wouldn't want to see my bra photos going around."

“I'll tell Garcia, don't worry,” Spencer murmured, rushing to type something on his phone.

While you waited for him to type you took another look, feeling your whole body heating up again at the memories. A part of you was grateful to have such material in your custody.

"I never thought of being the protagonist of an erotic photo session and here we are," you said ironically.

“Speaking of which…” Spencer started to say, “Not the erotic sessions by any means, don't think I'm planning on inviting you to one or that, because it would be super weird and inappropriate, but I was thinking if… huh…”

“Sell them online? I thought so too, but it depends on how much profit there is. Garcia can help us find the highest bidder and not get charged for tampering with evidence."

"What? No!" he said, completely shocked, and you laughed because you got the reaction you expected with your joke "Why would we do that?"

“Just kidding, Reid. Those photos are something I prefer to keep to myself" you clarified and your smile made him feel shy "Seriously, sorry for interrupting you. What did you want to tell me?"

"What…? huh, yes, right. It's just that this morning I was thinking about what you said yesterday, about how under normal circumstances you would have liked to have a bad date with me, right? and it just kept spinning in my head, so I was asking if you wanted to go for a drink sometime. Not like a date, of course, I'm not saying it is if you don't want to. I can just be like… well, go get a drink. As friends"

Yesterday Spencer had practically eaten your mouth and now he was nervous about asking you out. So adorable.

“You're not doing this just as compensation, are you? because you know that it is not necessary…”

“I do it because I want to. And I want to believe that… that I didn't misunderstand what happened yesterday."

You no longer even cared that it was unethical to date team members, or that if things went wrong, you would probably go into the worst of depressions. What mattered to you was that Spencer was interested in you, even if he had implied it, and that he was asking you out alone with him. Just the two of you, with fun and alcohol involved, without gossipy colleagues or mortal danger.

"Then I'd love to, Reid."

“Wow, excellent then” he smiled, feeling lucky that you agreed “I know a great bar near here, the atmosphere is generally calm, I like it because they don't play loud music. What day is right for you?"

“I'm available any day you want” you responded genuinely, grinning from ear to ear just being around him. That was the effect Reid had on you.

It was stupid to try to deny that you were still attracted to him, especially since now you had a taste of what he could do with you. You wanted to kiss him again, of course, but you were also anxious to earn that completely adoring look you'd received the night before.

“Today?”

"Yeah, why wait?" you responded, more excited than you wanted.

“Hey, I didn't ask you, but I wanted to know if I didn't go overboard with you last night. I mean… did something bother you?”

It was a smart move, you could see it clearly. It was obvious that Spencer cared about you, but you also picked up on his intentions to find out if you were interested in him too. Well, that's how it was from your perspective, because that probably would have been your motivation being in his place.

Even if it wasn't the case, you weren't going to miss the opportunity to take a little advantage of the situation.

"The kisses on the neck were something he definitely didn't expect, but they weren't unpleasant at all," you assured him, feeling your cheeks heat up again. "Did it feel good to you?"

"It did"

"So everything's perfect," you murmured, shrugging off the matter. But you both knew you couldn't see each other in the office and acted as if nothing had happened.

Something had happened. Those kisses had only fueled the tension that had always existed between you but that you wanted to ignore.

"Do you want to go after work, then?"

“Sounds good to me”

Spencer gave you one last smile and then went to prepare his usual cup of sugar with a dash of coffee. All day you were thinking about him and more than once he caught you looking at him, but you didn't even care.

So, at nightfall, with a few drinks on you and more courage in your body, you finally confessed that kissing was something you had wanted to do for a long time. You almost didn't believe it at first, coming from him, but when you finally accepted it, it wasn't hard at all to rush at him and kiss him feverishly. And this time there did not impede for you to give free rein to your desires, which led you to the soft mattress in your friend's house and kept you awake until a few hours before dawn.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #jason gideon #JJ #penelope garcía #david rossi #emily prentiss #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut

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wife-of-all-dilfs · 6 months

Text

rosé | f. odair

(final part of red wine)

part one, part two

summary: in the final part of the red wine series, secrets are revealed, and miscommunication threatens to tear you and finnick apart.

pairing: finnick odair x reader

warnings: angst, fluff, blood, minor injury, mentions of forced prostitution, swearing,

notes: i’m sorry this took so long to come out y’all. thank you to everyone who read and enjoyed this mini fic <3

word count: 4.1k

Finnick believed he had made a lot of smart decisions in his life—like rigging a net made out of vines to ensnare tributes in the arena, accepting secrets as a form of payment from his patrons rather than material goods, and mastering the art of seduction to manipulate his way out of various difficult situations. However, shutting you out was not one of them.

Half an hour had passed since the incident on the staircase landing. He lingered within the mansion’s extravagant walls, where other guests mingled and dined on a range of bizarre delicacies. He couldn’t eat a thing. His stomach churned at the image of your hopeless expression as he walked off. The expression he caused.

It had to be done. That is what he had been telling himself. It had to be done, otherwise, everyone in the Capitol would learn of his feelings for you. Snow would find out and most likely punish you for interfering with the arrangement he had—the sale of his body. And Finnick was very aware of what happened to people who disrupted the president’s plans.

Partygoers would have already begun to spread rumours of the scene in the courtyard. Hopefully, it would just be chalked up to a simple argument between friends. Friends. The label borderline disgusted him. You don’t fall asleep to the thought of someone and think of them the moment you wake up if you’re just friends. Nor do you look for them in every room you walk into.

Even now, Finnick was scanning the lavishly decorated banquet hall for a glimpse of your pure white gown, despite being the one who walked away. It was an instinct at this point. But there was no one in the room wearing white but him; his matching half was still outside, blending in with the winter snow. Or maybe gone home.

One colour did catch his eye though. A vibrant, almost tacky red, worn by a woman who was strutting towards him, her chin held high with pride. Finnick noticed the material of her floor-length gown. Silk. She was wearing your old dress, only the colour was incredibly off, and each hem was lined with red fur, conforming with her implanted whiskers. That was when he realised who the woman was.

Her ensemble was entirely made out of fur that clung to her body, complementing the whiskers that were embedded in her face which made her look feline.

“Where’s your dancing partner tonight?” she asked, her voice low and seductive.

The bright saturation of her dress was almost blinding as she stopped in front of him. He held back a grimace and plastered on a smile even faker than her voice. “She wasn’t up for it this time,” he lied.

“Well, everyone knows she’s out of touch with our way of life,” she said. Finnick ground his jaw, struggling to maintain his façade. Words could not explain how condescending these people were. “This dress is an adaptation of one she wore quite a while ago. Such a plain thing. I only liked the colour and bodice. The only way I could wear it in public was if I spruced it up.”

He thought back to the dress you had worn. Nobody had even come close to how phenomenal you looked. Where others needed extravagance and flounce to stand out, you only needed a simple red dress. Yet here this woman was, thinking she had the audacity to call you plain.

“I noticed. It’s very… striking.”

“Thank you, darling,” she purred. There was a predatory gleam in her eyes, like that of a wild cat about to pounce and devour its meal. “I was waiting for the perfect occasion to wear it.”

His forced smile twitched. “You’re certainly turning heads.”

“Did I turn yours?” she asked, batting her eyelashes.

Truth be told, Finnick hadn’t even remembered her existence until she walked right up to him. Obviously, he couldn’t tell her that, so he told her that she did. For a long period of time, they bounced back and forth, complimenting and flirting with each other, never dipping below the surface into a real conversation. Not that he wanted to anyway. Not with her. The only person he longed to conversate with was now out of reach.

The woman started talking about colourless topics such as the latest fashion trends in the Capitol and her opinions on the victor of the 72nd Hunger Games, all of which made Finnick wish she would just gouge his eyes out with her sharp claw-like fingernails. He couldn’t do anything but stand, smile, and agree. Doing anything else would result in Snow staying true to his very detailed threats

As the conversation continued, his attention began to drift. He surveyed the outfits of everyone in the room, amusing himself by deciding whether or not each person was making a fashion statement or tragedy. Only one person claimed the former title—the one in white.

Finnick watched as you entered the room. The giant golden chandelier cast down a bright light which caused your skin to glow with radiance; its glare enhanced the brilliance of your white dress. This brief moment ignited a fear in him that you had died in his absence because there was no way a mere human being could look so angelic.

“Finnick?” the feline asked, but her voice barely registered in his brain.

Captivated. He was utterly and completely captivated. One after the other, sudden realisations conjured in his mind. The first—there wasn’t a life worth living ahead of him if you weren’t by his side the whole way, and not as a friend or a fellow victor, but as his partner. His lover. The second—he would never let any harm come to you. He would keep you safe from Snow’s clutches, from the Capitol, from anyone who would put you in danger, even if it meant the two of you had to disappear into the vast forests of Panem.

And lastly, he was now absolutely certain that the woman in front of him could never compare to you, nor could anyone else in the ever-expanding universe. You were a basic human necessity to him. Without you, his heart might as well stop beating. Your laugh, your smile, your kindness, your unwavering support—every part of you kept him alive.

“Finnick?” the voice that went disregarded hissed again.

With a half-empty wine glass in hand, your anxious eyes searched the room. Finnick wanted nothing more than to sprint over, pull you into his arms, and cast away every trouble plaguing your mind. He couldn’t. Almost all eyes were on you, yet you hadn’t even seemed to notice. Only one person finally seemed to gain your attention, and that was Finnick, standing in the middle of the room, his eyes locked on yours.

The neurons firing in his brain signalled him to move and he did. But just as his legs started to walk, a forceful hand jerked his face to the side and a pair of harsh lips were crushed to his. Glass shattered on the marble flooring. Momentarily paralysed from shock, Finnick stumbled backwards, briefly catching the twisted triumphant smirk on the woman’s face before whirling around.

Your face was frozen with devastation; his heart dropped. Splatters of red wine had stained your gown, pooling in a crimson puddle of glass shards by your feet. Quiet mocking chuckles and whispers echoed around the room. Oh, if only he had his trident; they wouldn’t be laughing then.

An Avox rushed forward, attempting to clean up the mess, but you had crouched down with them.

“No, please,” Finnick heard you say to the Avox as he strode toward you. “Please don’t. I can do it.”

But delicate hands and glass shards never mix well. You gasped in pain. A jagged fragment you collected had sliced into your palm, creating another crimson pool in your hand.

Finnick’s strides quickened, eventually leading him to stop and kneel beside you. He wordlessly took your hand in his, cradling it as he inspected the damage. Blood coated his fingers, but he didn’t care. He might as well have cut your hand himself. None of this would have happened if it weren’t for him.

Pink blush overtook your face. For once, it wasn’t because he made you flustered or bashful, but because you were humiliated. He knew how much you disliked attention; now you were at the centre of it. Beside you was the Avox, tending to the mess of broken glass.

“Could you bring me a first-aid kit, please?�� he asked with a polite smile.

They nodded and silently left. Finnick returned his attention to you, applying pressure to your wound. Your gaze was lowered, unwilling to meet his own. There was more to your demeanour than just embarrassment. There was sadness. Disheartenment. Neither of which were present when you walked in, only appearing after the feline woman had kissed him.

His brows furrowed in confusion. “Y/N—”

“Don’t,” you whispered, eyes unmoving.

The Avox returned holding a medical kit; Finnick thanked them, taking the box into his hands. He climbed to his feet, hesitating before offering you a hand up. Much to his relief, you accepted his assistance. And then, without a word, you began walking towards the nearest exit with apparent indifference to the engrossed eyes following you.

Finnick didn’t bother to conceal his icy glare toward the crowd as he trailed behind you and exited the room.

*******

Pain of a thousand unrelenting bees stung the broken flesh of your palm. Even the slightest movement of your fingers sent waves of throbbing agony up your arm. But it was nothing compared to the brutal ache of your heart.

You had entered the mansion in search of Finnick, determined to mend the crack in your friendship before it crumbled completely. What you got instead was humiliation and heartbreak. What you saw was another woman kissing the man you loved, whilst wearing a horrible adaptation of your red gown no less.

The air had been sucked from your lungs. Believing he would kiss you on the dance floor in the courtyard was nothing more than a fantasy, a dream, a pathetic fool’s wish—every term under the sun that defined something not real. At least now you understood why he was acting so differently. Because he had found someone else and that someone wasn’t you.

A lump formed in your throat and you knew tears were approaching. As if your night couldn’t get any more embarrassing.

Your feet carried you down a long corridor, far enough away from the banquet hall that listening ears and prying eyes were unable to reach. Finnick still followed behind you, though you weren’t sure why he bothered. How could he explain what you saw with your own eyes? Plus, the last thing you wanted was for his new romance to think something was going on between you and him. Only in your dreams.

Unsure of your destination, you decided to enter the first room you came across. It turned out to be a lavishly decorated library, walled with large wooden bookshelves which were filled endlessly with novels and historic paraphernalia. Sitting within the bookshelves was a stone fireplace.

The door closed as Finnick entered behind you, the silence so loud that the crackles from the fireplace reverberated through the room. Your hand still throbbed something awful so you looked down, taking in the gruesome sight of your dress. A stranger might have thought you had just murdered someone. If it were televised, it would have been deemed acceptable.

You sniffled, wearing a small bitter smile. “I ruined Snow’s pretty white dress.”

A few moments passed before Finnick replied. “Red always was more your colour,” he said, his tone anything but playful.

Ahead of you was a great wall of windows; in the reflection, you saw him staring back at you with an unfamiliar expression. His brows were pinched upwards, pronouncing the lines in his forehead, and the corners of his mouth drooped in a slight pensive frown. He didn’t look like the Finnick you knew. This Finnick looked pained. Anguished.

You dropped his intense gaze and ambled across the room. By the lit fireplace was a cushioned stool which you sat down on, eyes staring into the flickering flames. If you were lucky, maybe your dress would catch alight and whisk you away from your troubled life. Okay, perhaps the thought was a little morbid, but so was a broken heart. Of all people, why did you have to fall in love with Finnick Odair?

Cautious footsteps followed behind you, coming to a stop beside your feet. Without your acknowledgement, Finnick crouched down, eyeing the bloody mess of your hands with concern. His gaze lifted to yours, which was still on the fire, and he sighed.

“Let me take care of your hand,” he murmured.

Before you could refuse, you realised contracting an infection was worse than giving in to your stubbornness. So, you nodded.

Finnick opened the first-aid kit and began tending to your wound; his touch was so gentle it was like he was piecing together a broken china cup. Using an antiseptic gauze, he attempted to clean the damaged skin, whispering apologies whenever you winced in pain. After carefully applying a dressing, he began wrapping a bandage around your hand.

You stared into the orange flames, wondering how he would explain to that woman why he left her behind. You wondered when their relationship started and why Finnick continued to shamelessly flirt with you in her absence. You wondered if their relationship would be the end of your friendship.

“Are you in love?” you quietly asked.

His hands stilled at your sudden words, then he continued wrapping the bandage. “Not with her.”

He secured the binding with medical tape and climbed to his feet, placing the supplies back into the kit on a small side table.

Brows drawn together in confusion, you turned to look up at him. “But I thought—"

“Things are much more complicated than they seem,” he interrupted. There was a clear vase of white roses on the table. Finnick toyed with the petals, caressing them between his gentle fingertips. “No one understands me better than you do, and there is no one in this world I trust more. But… there are still things I’ve been keeping from you.”

The troubled expression on his face melted into one of vulnerability. This was a new appearance for him. Finnick was known nationwide for his radiant confidence and charm; he never let his guard down. You have had difficult conversations before, such as discussing each other’s hardships and innermost secrets, but none of them seemed to affect him like this.

“Everyone knows about my visits to the Capitol,” he continued. “How I spend nights with different people every time as if it’s all a game for my pleasure. But it’s not true. It’s not my game I’m playing.” He began walking over to the wall of windows, overlooking Snow’s gardens. “There’s a part of it that no one knows about.”

You rose from the stool, beginning to take slow steps towards him. “Which is?”

The fire flickering behind you deepened Finnick’s features. It intensified the shiny bronze of his hair and enhanced the defined contours of his face, making it easy to see the muscles in his jaw clench with apprehension. He stared out the window so intensely that you were sure his usual green eyes were blazing with their own inferno.

Even full of angst, he was painstakingly beautiful.

His chest inflated with a deep breath. “President Snow… sells me to the Capitol.”

Horror washed over you in monstrous waves. Sells? Only one explanation appeared in your head as to what he meant. You remained silent, praying he would prove your assumption wrong.

“After I won my Games, he saw my success as an opportunity to please his citizens. He began offering me to potential buyers—'admirers’ is what he called them—who soon became my regular customers. They would use me however they liked. Some would pounce on me the second I stepped through the door. Others were relatively tamer. Kinder. They would have me take them on dates or watch a movie with them, but one way or another, it all ended the same way at the end of the night.” He sucked in a sharp uneasy breath before continuing. “Then there were the rare few—the ones who treated me like I was nothing more than a ragdoll for their amusement. They did things that were… unspeakable.”

Nausea churned in your stomach as your mind conjured sickening images. It couldn’t be true. You refused to believe that human beings could stoop to such levels of atrocity to make one person endure so much cruelty. Then again, you lived in a world where children were sent into an arena to fight to the death on live television.

Finnick looked like he was holding himself together by a thread. Every word he confessed shattered your heart into a million pieces. How could this have happened to him?

“I’ve tried to refuse but Snow threatened to harm the people I care about—my family, my friends. After I met you, I knew you were added to that list.” He finally turned around to face you, his eyes filled with such anguish, it shook you to your core. “The Capitol owns me, Y/N. Body and soul.”

Despair riddled your entire body. As you stared at him, the image of a teenager appeared in your mind—eyes sea green and hair a fiery bronze. He was just a boy when it started. A child.

“I’m—I’m so sorry,” you managed to whisper. “I didn’t know.”

“I didn’t want you to know.” His eyes dropped to the floor. “I didn’t want you to think less of me.”

“Less of you? Finnick,” you said softly, stopping in front of him. Your eyes beckoned for his; you needed him to look at you, to really take in your next words. “There isn’t a single person alive I think more highly of than you. No one even comes close. Can’t you see? Just having you in my presence makes me feel whole. You make me whole.”

Tears glistened in his eyes as they flickered between your own, absorbing every reassuring word you said into his mind, his bones, his entire being.

“You have brought so much into my life,” you continued. “So much good. And I would never have made it to where I am now without you. So please, don’t ever distance yourself from me because you think I will judge you. I won’t and I never will.”

As the room stilled with silence, a lone tear rolled down Finnick’s cheek. His Adam’s apple bobbed, revealing the sob he was keeping restrained within his throat. And then a smile started to grow on his face, small at first, but then it stretched wider and wider, deepening those dimples that you adored so much.

You knew that your words had touched the deepest parts of him. That you had managed to convince him ‘less’ could never be a word used to describe him. He was more. More kind, more genuine, more caring than almost all of Panem.

“You’re incredible,” he whispered in awe, looking at you as if he were witnessing the birth of the universe. “Sweetheart, you’re incredible. Do have any idea how rare that is for a person to be? I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve someone like you in my life, but I swear I’ll do whatever I can to keep you. And if—” His gaze drifted, seemingly wrestling with a decision in his mind— “if that means I have to share all my secrets with you, then I will.”

“Have you got any more secrets, Finnick?”

He returned his attention back to your face. The indecision from moments ago had disappeared and was replaced with certainty, which was underscored by a sort of tenderness that settled in his features.

“Just one,” he murmured. He paused, observing the universe before him and wondering how on earth he got so lucky to have the privilege of having it staring right back at him. “I’m in love with you.”

Electricity shocked your heart like someone had placed a defibrillator over your chest and hit charge. Love? You? He was?

“What?” you asked, dumbfounded.

“I should’ve told you sooner,” he said, shaking his head. “I should have told you everything. Even if saying this means I’m risking everything between us, I can’t keep it from you any longer. God, sweetheart, I love you so much it fucking hurts. I always will, even if you never feel the same.”

Somehow in the span of twenty minutes, everything you thought you knew came crashing down. First, your heart was broken by the thought of Finnick kissing another, and then it was healed. And then it broke again as he voiced his arrangement with Snow. It could never fully heal again while Snow was alive, not with what he was forcing upon Finnick.

But Finnick pieced together every piece he possibly could with his confession, one heartfelt word of declaration at a time.

The weight of his confession hung in the air. His eyes held a mixture of anxiety and hope for your response. Time seemed to stretch out as you tried to find your voice. How do you declare your love as powerfully as someone who just bared their soul to you?

An emotional laugh bubbled up your throat, your eyes brimming with tears. “You idiot,” was what you said, the words spoken with utmost adoration. “I’ve loved you this whole time.”

Finnick’s eyes widened in amazement and a brilliant smile broke across his face. Before you had a chance to react, he had moved towards you in one swift step, pulling you into his arms and crushing his lips to yours in a powerful, passionate kiss.

Your hands were quick to cling onto him, desperately terrified that if you let go, he would vanish into thin air. Every ounce of yearning and hidden affection from the past year poured into this one single moment, into the movement of your lips against one another, and the feeling of your hands cradling each other’s bodies.

Emotions were running high. You could taste both your own and Finnick’s tears as they streamed down your faces, salty and palpable with affection. The sheer relief of finally being free to express your love was so unimaginable that you felt like you would be crying with happiness your whole life.

Finnick’s hand cupped the side of your jaw and he lowered his head, deepening the kiss as much as he physically could to make up for all the time he wasted. His lips were soft and adoring, savouring the sweet taste of your lips on his. His other arm tightened around your lower back, pulling you even further against him.

You felt like you were melting into his embrace and happily, you would have. It felt so right, so safe to be held by him. The world outside the library no longer existed; there was only Finnick and you. Your hands settled on either side of his jaw, staining his skin red from your blood-soaked bandage. You knew he wouldn’t care—the blood belonged to you.

And that is how you spent most of the night. In the library, in that one spot by the windows, in each other’s arms. At some point, you ended up sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace, both covered in red and feeling blissfully content. Your back was leaning against Finnick’s chest, his arms wrapped around your middle as he occasionally pressed his lips into your hair.

You toyed with the fabric of his sleeves, your head leaning against his collarbone as you watched the flames once more.

“If Snow ever finds out…” you murmured.

“He won’t,” he reassured quietly. “I won’t let him. He’s taken too much from me; he won’t take you too.”

You turned your head to peer up at him, wearing a teasing smile. “Can’t live without me, Odair?”

He grinned, leaning in closer. “Never without you, sweetheart.”

Once again, Finnick’s lips were on yours, conveying every ounce of immense love he felt for you through his kiss. The only time either of you broke apart was to whisper sweet declarations of your devotion and reverence before returning to each other again. This was when you felt most complete.

When you felt whole.

tags: @queenofspades6 @powellssaturn @bellamybellamyblake @heroinhchicblog222

#wife-of-all-dilfs ✍️#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair smut #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair fluff #sam claflin #the hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen

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ma1dita · 11 days

Text

pushover

luke castellan x dionysus!reader

a/n: usually you’re the one stitching Luke up but the one time he gets to do it for you, he knows you’re milking it. no trouble!verse tags, can be standalone -> she’s an ACTRESS okay? who tf wouldn’t want luke to kiss a booboo; this was a forgotten draft for my partners in crime series feel free to read

wc: 1.2k

“OWWWW!”

The sun shines again on Camp Half-Blood peeking through Luke’s dark curls as he towers over you, laughing from his position above. Your knee is scraped after cushioning your fall, or perhaps your attack, after Luke thought it’d be funny to push you again as he walked past.

Well, today’s been kind of boring, so might as well make the most of it right?

As a daughter of Dionysus, you do love to put on a good show.

There’s a glimmer of mischief in your eye as you do your best to convince him that he’s maimed you but as his eyes fall to the slightly aggravated skin, Luke sighs at the way you look like a kicked puppy, lower lip jutting out as you squint up at him.

“Stop being so overdramatic. It wasn’t that serious.”

“YOU SHOVED ME INTO A BUSH!”

The howl that leaves your throat catches the attention of other campers, who are familiar with your dramatics and your penchant for picking a fight with the son of Hermes. Luke sighs and runs his hands through his hair, groaning in embarrassment.

Gods forbid he look like the bad guy.

“Seriously, trouble— you're acting like I pushed you off a cliff,” he grumbles finally crouching down to reach for your leg to check how serious it is.

It’s not.

“You're a barbarian. Just because you think it's funny to push me around doesn't mean it actually is! Luke.... I can't walk! It feels like my bone is coming through. And I have so much work to do today, and now I'm gonna have to walk super slow…” you groan, still on the ground. Luke rolls his eyes and once he's checked the injury (the whole menacing palm-sized scrape) his expression softens the tiniest bit. He’s still kinda pissed off at you for being a drama queen though.

“Alright, it's not life-threatening so you're going to be fine. Look, I can carry you if I have to.”

Batting his hand away you roll your eyes, “Like I'd let you. You'd probably toss me into the lake again.”

Luke smirks, “Probably, but I swear to the gods that I wouldn't do anything to maim you. Not on purpose at least.” It’s almost criminal how easy it is to get on your nerves—he thinks you’ve finally shut your trap until he watches you fake crawl away to get a reaction out of him. Quite frankly, it’s embarrassing to everyone watching so he scoops you into his arms like you weigh nothing. Luke chuckles softly, wrapping his arms tightly around your squirming frame so you won't fall as he begins walking.

“So difficult. I swear…”

“Me? Never!” you groan, flopping in his arms like a dead body. Your dead weight makes his arms strain a little but his muscles are fun to look at from any angle, so…

You miss it when he starts speaking again, “You're too much, you know that?” A smirk grows upon your face, “And you can't get enough. The infirmary is the other way, Castellan....” Luke huffs as he turns 180 towards the infirmary, sighing softly at the way you are sprawled in his arms. But he keeps quiet because he knows how to pick and choose his battles. Something about the realization that he’d only do this for you makes him bite his lip in thought. But you think he’s trying to not laugh at you.

“What? You maim me and then you make fun of me? Haven't you done enough?” The words slip by as you peek at him through one open eye, his cheeks flushed and rosy. Hopefully, his brawn won’t expire on the short trek to the infirmary.

“You're lucky I don't drop you right now,” Luke jostles you with a lopsided grin he can’t hide anymore and it steadily gets bigger at the sound of your surprise.

“Don't you DARE, Luke Castellan!”

Grabbing onto his mop of curls, the boy winces as his nose brushes against your wrist, and the shockwaves it sends through your system are enough to send you reeling. Maybe it’s the way you almost sway with each step he takes, smooth and steady like a sailboat even when he’s carrying you like this.

He ends up having to carry you inside the infirmary and the Apollo kids on shift stop and stare at their two best counselors in the doorway. Luke tries to ignore them, setting you down on an empty cot and getting the medical supplies he needs to treat your wound. He looks at you propped on the bed like a little princess, cross-legged and fluttering eyelashes waiting for him to clean you up. It's not serious enough for ambrosia, he thinks, so he grabs an alcohol wipe instead.

Luke looks like he's trying his hardest not to smirk as he grabs your leg and begins carefully cleaning the scrape.

“Ow! Gentle! When I patch you up after you spar I don't do it maliciously!”

“I am being gentle, stop wriggling!” Luke grits his teeth as he continues to wipe the drying blood away. He's trying to be careful, but he's clearly irritated that you're not making this easy for him.

Tossing your knee over his lap and getting closer, suddenly you go quiet at the proximity. There’s something intimate about being tended to so delicately in a room filled with people. A quiet in the chaos reserved for only the two of you.

“So what, you think I'm too good for ambrosia? Sending me off to heal like a mortal— what type of nurse are you?”

“You drunk on ambrosia for a scrape would definitely make your dad thrilled and have the both of us cleaning the stables for the rest of the week,” Luke lets out a brief snicker as he meets your gaze, rolling your eyes as you lean against the wall. His hand unconsciously rubs circles into the skin above your knee, featherlight yet firm at the same time. You try to ignore the goosebumps that rise in its wake.

Luke doesn't say anything about it while he continues to look at you. He realizes that you look quite pretty even with windswept hair and dirt on your cheek, but he can't let you see that he's noticed. Something shifts in the air of the infirmary, more overpowering than the smell of antiseptic and it bubbles in both of your chests, overflowing and seeping into the small space between you.

Not bad for a boring day, you suppose. You make him piggyback you for the rest of the day in an attempt to guilt-trip him. But the huge smile on his face has all of your campers thinking otherwise.

—

The next day, he sees you walking perfectly fine. In fact, with the way you’re rushing to scold a Hephaestus kid for almost setting the armory on fire, he’s not sure he’s ever seen you move that fast in your life.

Warmth settles on your cheeks as your eyes dart between the kid you’re yelling at and Luke’s narrowing eyes from afar, and you can’t quite tell if the rush of emotions is from what you’re doing versus who you’re really looking at.

Maybe the next time he pushes you around he’ll find out.

#made by ma1dita ♥︎#trouble!verse #luke castellan x reader #pjo x reader #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan x dionysus!reader #percy jackon and the olympians

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cloudybarnes · 8 months

Text

Busy Bee

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x slytherin!reader

Summary: you may have accidentally fallen asleep on draco, but in your defense, he was really comfortable to sleep on! now, though, you're forced to face your feelings for him and do something about them

Word Count: 2.6k+

Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰

“Blaise, move your big arse away from my comfy spot.”

You had a tiring day of classes, and wanted nothing more than to just relax for the rest of the night. You had gone back to the Slytherin common room to hopefully see some of your friends and just wind down for the night.

Everyone in Slytherin knew there was one special spot on the lounge couch that was reserved for you. You had spent countless hours and dozens of nights in that exact spot either studying or just hanging out with friends. That was your spot, and when you came into the common room, everyone knew to make way for it.

Blaise chuckled and raised his hands in surrender. “Sorry, (Y/N), didn’t realize you’d be back so early.”

“Early?” You exclaimed as you jumped into your spot. “I’ve been busting my butt all morning for these stupid exams. I’m exhausted.”

Pansy groaned from her spot on the floor. “Why don’t you just cut yourself a break once in a while? It’s no fun when my best friend is too busy for, like, anything anymore.”

You frowned. “I’m not too busy for you! I’m here now, aren’t I?” You grabbed a blanket from the stockpile you kept in the common room, and wrapped yourself tight in it.

Pansy rolled her eyes with a smile. “Yeah, yeah. You’re just in time to hear about the latest shit with Emma.”

Pansy had a wild grudge against this poor Hufflepuff girl who didn’t even know that Pansy was beefing with her. It was quite funny, honestly, but you loved Pansy enough to let her moan on about what annoying thing Emma does everyday.

“Oh goody.” Draco came out from the stairwell into the common room with a roll of his eyes. “Another go round of how insufferable you think that Hufflepuff is.”

He glanced over to see you cocooned in your blanket and let out a soft laugh. Draco took his seat next to you and laid his arm over the back of the couch behind you.

Draco intrigued you. Over the last year, the two of you had grown quite close. You considered Draco a good friend, but you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t wish it were more. Draco was kind. He was flirtatious and charming, but he was sweet and gentle with you as well. Sometimes you thought Draco may have feelings for you in return, but you were far too scared to confront him about it.

“Well, for starters, we already know how much of a know it all she is, but for some reason she has to showboat just how smart she is. You’d think she was a Ravenclaw what with how obsessed she is with being correct.” Pansy said.

Blaise started to respond to her squawking when Draco shifted closer to you. Blaise’s voice drifted away as you focused your attention to Draco.

“You alright, Dray?” You asked.

He smiled slightly. “Yeah, just trying to get comfortable. Salazar knows Pansy will be talking about this nonsense for hours.”

Draco dropped his arm from the back of the couch to wrap around your shoulder and pull you into him. You could feel your heart beating out of your chest, silently hoping Draco couldn’t feel the intensity of it.

You tried to hide the grin threatening to break out on your lips as you snuggled closer to his chest. This was definitely a first for you guys. Though you and Draco had been quite flirty, he’d never been so open with his physical touch before.

“Then she had the nerve to choose me as her partner. Like I would ever consider her!” Pansy glanced over at you and did a double take when she saw you wrapped up in Draco. Her eyes grew slightly, but she averted them with a clear of her throat as to not make it obvious.

“And then, she had the audacity-“

“She really is quite obsessed with this hufflepuff, huh?” Draco whispered to you, quiet enough for Pansy not to hear.

You looked up at him. His face was so close to yours, your noses were practically touching. You bit your lip as a smile threatened your face.

“Yeah,” you whispered back as you stared into his eyes. “Leave her be though, it keeps her entertained.”

Draco chucked, his minty breath hitting your face due to your close proximity. Your own breath caught in your throat. You hadn’t realized just how close you were to him. You could feel your stomach doing cartwheels as you took in all of his glorious features up close. The glimmer in his eyes, the point of his nose, the curve of his lips.

“I didn’t see you earlier,” Draco shifted the conversation, pulling your gaze from his lips back to his eyes. “What were you doing all day, busy bee?”

You blushed at the nickname. “I was just in the library writing up essays and study guides for our finals.” You let out a yawn, the reminder of your morning making you realize just how exhausted you were.

“Sleepy?” Draco murmured in your ear.

You nodded your head with a mumbled ‘yes’, then rested your head on his shoulder. Draco wrapped his arm tight around your waist, pulling you as close to him as possible. With his other hand, he softly combed his fingers through your hair.

You hummed as you closed your eyes. “You’re comfy,” you sleepily mumbled.

Draco chuckled. His fingers brushed against your cheeks every once in a while as he gently continued combing through your hair.

As you felt yourself falling asleep, you could hear Draco shushing Pansy and Blaise to ensure they didn't wake you.

✰ ✰ ✰

The next morning you wake in your bed, unsure of how you got there. You must have gone up sometime in the night and just not remembered.

With a shrug, you stood up and stretched your arms over your head. Pansy was snoring in the bed next to you. You tiptoed over to her and gently shook her awake.

“Pansy,” you called as you shook her some more. “Come on, babe, time to wake up.”

She just grumbled and swatted your hand from her shoulder. You huffed. Pansy was terrible in the mornings, and for some reason unknown to you, she didn’t believe in alarm clocks so you got stuck waking her up every morning.

A mischievous idea came to mind, and with a smirk you jumped on top of her sleeping body.

“Ahh!” She shouted as you frantically shook her awake.

“It’s wake up time, Pans! We’ve got to get ready for our charms exam this fine, beautiful morning.” You said with a laugh.

Pansy sat up and pushed you off of her so you laid on the bed instead. “Geez,” she grinned as she rubbed at her sleepy eyes. “Who knew a night with Draco would make you so chipper this morning.”

You sat upright in crisscross as your smile fell. “Wait, what?”

You had spent the night with Draco? But that didn’t make sense, you woke up by yourself in your own bed. Plus, you would have remembered if something had happened between the two of you.

Pansy saw your confused expression and chuckled. She grabbed a pillow and gently swatted you in the face with it. “Not like that, you silly. Salazar knows if you slept with Draco you’d have probably died of happiness.”

“Hey!” You whined as a blush started creeping on your cheeks. “I’m not that crazy for him.”

“Oh, please,” Pansy scoffed with a slight smile. “I saw the way you cuddled up with him last night. I almost had a heart attack for you when I saw how close you were! Go (Y/N), go (Y/N)!” She cheered.

You laughed and pushed Pansy away from you. “Shut up!” Your giggles died down as you recalled how you laid with him last night. “Was it really that obvious?”

“Girl please! I thought Draco was gonna scoop you up and run away with you. You should have seen the look on his face when you fell asleep on him. He looked at you like you hung the damn stars in the sky.”

Your heart fluttered. You knew there was something going on with you and Draco, but by the way Pansy was talking, though she had a knack for exaggeration, it sounded like he really did have a thing for you.

“So, what do I do now?” You asked as you slightly rocked back and forth on her bed.

“Are you joking?” Pansy deadpanned at you. “(Y/N/N), you gotta go get your man! I’m tired of watching you two drool like little puppies over each other just for nothing to come out of it.”

Your cheeks flushed. It had been a long time of this back and forth with Draco, and you decided you were ready to see where it got you.

“Okay, I’m gonna tell him next time I see him.” You said.

Pansy cheered. “Yes, finally! Now hurry up, I’ll help you pick a cute outfit that has ‘date me’ written all over it.”

You chuckled as Pansy eagerly jumped up and ran to your closet. She grabbed your shortest skirt, a white button up top, and your Slytherin robes.

“Pans, how is this any different than my usual outfit?” You asked as you stood from the bed and joined her near the closet.

“Ah, my sweet (Y/N), it’s not about the clothes you wear, but how you wear them.” She grinned as she threw the clothes into your hands. “Put them on so I can work my magic.”

You chuckled and stripped out of your pajamas to put on your school outfit. Turning back to Pansy, you said, “Okay, now what?”

She devilishly grinned. Pansy pulled your skirt even higher up your legs to expose just a bit more of the skin there. She unbuttoned the top two buttons of your shirt and fixed your boobs so they popped out a little bit more. She wrapped the robe around your shoulders, but let the front open so you could see everything underneath.

“And no tie,” she added, “that way your shirt can stay that way.”

You chuckled. “You get me into all these crazy shenanigans, you know that right?”

“You know you love me.”

“Yeah,” you added wearily, “but what if it’s too much? I mean, we still have to go to class. It’s not like I'm only going to see Draco.”

“Who cares?” Pansy asked as she started to dress herself in a similar manner. “Let the other boys stare and show Draco that you’re a hottie who other boys can get at if he decides he’s gonna be a wuss today.”

You laughed. Pansy always knew just how to make you feel better. “Alright, let’s get out there, then. Don’t wanna keep all the boys waiting.” You winked at her.

Pansy smirked and wrapped her arm with yours. You walked out together and down to your first class that you shared.

Luckily for you, Draco did not share the same period for charms as you. You thought if Draco was in the class you would have surely failed your final.

You felt pretty confident in your answers, and soon enough class was dismissed.

Your heart beat out of your chest as you said your goodbyes to Pansy and walked to your next class: one you shared with Draco.

Nervously, you picked at your clothes as you walked to potions. On your way there, you couldn’t help but notice all of the random students staring at you. Boys, and girls, sneaked peaks at you as you walked past them.

It felt nice to be noticed, you just hoped Draco would react in a similar way.

Speak of the devil.

There Draco stood in all his glory. He leaned against the wall outside of the potions room looking you up and down. Draco’s lip was trapped between his teeth and he sized you up.

“Bloody hell, (Y/N).” Draco mumbled, just loud enough for you to hear over your rapidly-beating heart.

Draco pushed himself off the wall and started walking towards you, meeting you halfway. He didn’t say anything. All he could do was stare. Draco knew you were gorgeous; he’d be a bloody fool to not have noticed it before, but there was something about the way you looked that made his head spin.

While he shouldn’t say it, Draco had always imagined how you would look after he’d had his way with you. He didn’t ever want to seem like a creep, you were too sweet for that, but that just made him more curious.

In all honesty, he didn’t know you had this in you.

“Uh, Draco?” You asked. Draco had zoned out as he stared at you. You could feel your cheeks getting warm and you took in how awestruck he looked.

“Hm?” He glanced back up into your eyes. “Sorry, sweetheart, you just- you just look incredible. Well, you look gorgeous everyday, just you look gorgeous and sexy if that makes sense.”

You raised an eyebrow almost teasingly. “Oh, so you think I look sexy now, huh?” You don’t know where this newfound confidence came from, but you liked the way Draco’s eyes widened as you crossed your arms over your chest, pushing your boobs out ever so slightly.

Once he recovered, a smirk adorned his handsome face. “I always think you look sexy, now I'm just seeing it in person rather than my dreams. And speaking of dreams,” Draco grinned devilishly, “how did you sleep last night, darling?”

You had almost forgotten about the confusion of the night. “I slept well. I think.” You chuckled as you pushed a piece of hair behind your ear. “I don’t exactly remember getting to bed, though. Care to enlighten me?”

Draco chuckled, “You fell asleep, quite adorably I might add, and I as the gentleman I am had the privilege of carrying you up the stairs and tucking you in for the night.”

You smiled, “how come you didn’t just wake me?”

Draco’s cheeks tinged pink. “I, uh, I just knew how tired you were from your morning and I didn’t want to disturb you. Hope that was okay.” Draco rubbed the back of his neck a little awkwardly.

You grinned and reached up to squeeze his arm. “It was really sweet of you, Draco.”

The two of you stared at each other for a minute, the silence held some tension, it had some longing imbedded into it.

“Draco…”

“Do you want to go out sometime?” Draco cut you off.

You gaped at him. “Like a date?”

Draco smiled, “yeah, exactly a date. I knew I’ve liked you for a little while, (Y/N), but when you cuddled up against me last night, I had this thought that I wanted to do it again. And then again after that too. You held onto like you needed me, and, uh, I really liked that.”

Draco blushed a little at his confession and shuffled his feet around nervously.

You couldn’t help but grin and wrap your arms tight around his neck. Draco was a little taken aback by your quick movement, but surely sunk into your hug and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“I’d love to go out with you, Dray,” you whispered as you were pressed so close to him. “I’ve been hoping you would ask me out for a long time.”

Draco pulled away, but still held his hands on your waist. “Sorry for keeping you waiting so long, darling.”

You giggled and grabbed Draco’s hands to pull him towards the classroom. “Come on, Slughorn doesn’t wait for anyone and I need to do good on this exam.”

Draco chuckled and let you pull him along to class. He couldn’t wait to finally take you out on a date.

#draco malfoy oneshot #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #harry potter #harry potter x reader #draco malfoy x slytherin!reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #ron weasly x reader #ron weasley #cedric diggory #cedric diggory x reader #fred weasly x reader #george weasley

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hp-hcs · 2 months

Note

OKOKOK SENTENCE 9

maybe theres a party in the slytherin common room and reader gets absolutely shitfaced

so being a flirty drunk they start chatting up a random dude (lets just say cormac bc hes always the bad guy) and boyfie theodore <3 gets jealous nd pulls them into his dorm nd hes all like

"I'll carve out your tongue if it’ll stop you from flirting with anyone else."

but reader still being drunk asf is just like :] snd gives him a kith and tells theo how pretty he is

poor baby just cant stay mad

HOW DARE YOU (be so cute?) — yandere! theodore nott x gn! drunk! hufflepuff! cutie patootie! reader

warnings: underage alcohol consumption, teen partying and drinking, threats of violence, aggression, possessive/obsessive behavior, jealousy, general yandere tendencies

please enjoy my attempts to see how many ridiculous near-rhymes to ‘cormac’ i could come up with

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Yeah, yeah. Gryffindor’s playing Ravenclaw this weekend, you know. Maybe you can come out and…show your support.” The boy you’d been talking to all night leaned in close, resting one hand on your hip and letting the fingers of the other brush over your collarbone.

You honestly couldn’t be bothered to remember the boy’s name when you had a plastic cup of White Wyvern in your hand. It was something dumb, you remember that. Cognac, Corsac…?

“Y/n?” CarMax asked, trying to regain your attention. “You gonna cheer me on, sugar?”

“Huh? Oh- yeah, yeah,” you grinned, taking another sip of your drink. “I’ll get all decked out in red ‘n gold, jus’ for you.”

Tarmac grinned back and tightened his grip on your hip, tugging you a bit closer. “Maybe I oughtta give you my spare jersey to wear to the game then, huh? Wouldn’t you like to have my name across your back, little badger?”

(You shrugged noncommittally at that, not quite sure how to express to Shellac that literally no one wants the name Cornsack written across the back of their shirt.)

“Oh, I see. You want me to be your good luck charm, huh?” You teased, resting a hand on Callback’s forearm.

Rickrack smirked and opened his mouth to reply when a heavy hand clapped down on his shoulder from behind.

“McLaggen. You’ve got two seconds to get your hands off my partner before I cut them off.”

Trashbag paled, hurriedly snatching his hands back and holding them up in surrender as he whirled around to face the newcomer. “Woah, woah- calm down, Nott,” he chuckled nervously. “We were just talking. No harm, no foul.”

Theodore stared back at him with an unamused, dead-eyed expression.

Hackeysack swallowed nervously. “Uh…yeah. Yeah. Well, I uh…I think I’m gonna get going now, Y/n. See ya at the game.”

Theo interrupted you before you could even respond. “I assure you, they won’t.”

And with that, Theodore wrapped an arm tightly around your shoulders and dragged you away from Radioshack.

~~~

“What the fuck was that?”

“What was what?”

“Don’t play dumb, darling, I’m not in the mood.” Theodore pushed you up against the wall of his dorm, one hand with a possessive death grip on your hip, and the other tightly grasping your jaw to hold it still. “I swear to Salazar, Y/n, I’ll carve out your tongue if it’ll stop you from flirting with anyone else.”

Whatever reaction Theodore was expecting you to have to those threatening words, you drunkenly giggling and kissing the tip of his nose was not one of them.

“You’re so pretty when you’re jelly, baby,” you gave him a dopey grin, reaching out to fix his rumpled shirt collar and smooth your hands across his chest. “You’re always so pretty.”

His heart melted and he let go of your jaw with a sigh, running his fingers through your hair and leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “Merlin- what am I going to do with you, love?”

“Cuddle me?” You asked hopefully, a sweet pout on your face.

Theodore whined. “Shit, darlin’- I’m trying to be mad at you right now.”

“But cuddles, Teddybear!” You pouted further, tossing your arms over his shoulders to pull him into a hug. “Why would you wanna be mad when cuddles are an option?”

“I guess I can’t argue with that logic.” He conceded slowly, resting both hands on your waist and rubbing small circles into your sides with his thumbs. “Alright, fine. We can cuddle.”

You grin proudly at your incredible drunken convincing skills, disentangling yourself from your boyfriend to clamber onto his bed. “C’mon!”

“Hold on, hold on,” he laughed. “I need to find you something to sleep in that isn’t your party clothes, love. Here,” he tossed something at you as he finished digging through his dresser.

You caught the item, unfolding it to reveal his Slytherin quidditch team captain jersey, complete with NOTT written out in a big bold font. You snorted and glanced up at him.

He gave you an innocent smile as he stripped out of his own clothes and climbed under the covers next to you. You rolled your eyes fondly, changing into his jersey and lying down beside him.

“Goodnight, darling,” he murmured against the top of your head as he wrapped his arms around you.

You grinned into his chest. “G’night, Teddybear.”

You fell asleep cuddling Theo, in Theo’s bed, in Theo’s clothes, with Theo’s name written across your back. And as long as you didn’t think too hard about how your boyfriend was absolutely going to kill Hazmat McLovin tomorrow, then all was quite well in the Slytherin dorms that night.

#harry potter #hp #fuck jkr #x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #hp x gn reader #theo nott #hp x male reader #x male reader #yandere theodore nott #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x male reader #x gn reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #yandere harry potter imagine #yandere harry potter

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highvern · 6 months

Text

Discovery

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem reader

Genre: smut, friends to lovers, established relationship

Warnings: kissing, groping, dry humping, oral (m. receiving, f. implied), dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics but they’re both actually switches (Mingyu is a service top), multiple orgasms (m. receiving), cumshot, mentions of butt stuff, Mingyu is obsessed with titties, pearl necklace, spitting, cum eating (kinda), minor hair pulling, praise kink and strength kink go burrrrrr, Mingyu is a simp that loves his gf, his gf is a gremlin though he does threaten to lock her in a closet at one point but he kinda has point, they’re both horny that’s all I can say

Length: ~2.5k

Note: not a direct part 2 of Drunk Goggles ! but same couple set a few months in the future :) they’re in love and obsessed with each other. If there are any spelling errors ignore them, I don’t respect the English language <3

MDNI! if I look at your blog and there isn’t an age indicator you’ll be blocked read more here

“Permission to be horny?” Mingyu mutters, lips still connected to the spot on your neck he likes to claim whenever granted the opportunity.

“Hmmmm,” You pretend to think. “I’ll allow it.”

“I really, really, really want to fuck you.” He punctuates his statement by trailing his hands down to your ass, palming the plush flesh and pulling you down harder on his clothed cock.

“I’ll definitely allow that.” You sigh, hand twisting in the short locks of hair on your boyfriend’s head.

His hips cant against yours when you arch into him, pulling the seam of your jeans just right against your clit. Mingyu is good at this. He’s good at most things, but sex is something he excels at; especially when it comes to sex with you.

You’ve never had a partner so open about their desires. Mingyu has no shame, bursting at the seams to let you know how much he wants you, needs you in moments like these. His forwardness makes you blush like a schoolgirl with a crush, and it certainly doesn’t help that he looks like that.

But as hot and sexy as your man is, he is still an incredibly huge klutz. You realize you’re falling off the couch before he does, mostly due to the fact Mingyu is planted firmly below you with his face buried in your chest. His obsession with your boobs is almost comical (and has gotten you out of more spats than you can count when you flash him in the heat of an argument) but it shuts down his brain.

“Oh shit!” You squeal, tumbling to the plush carpet. Nothing bruised except your dignity.

“What the fuck?” Mingyu calls after you, confused to find cool air rushing in where the heat of your body occupied.

All you can do is laugh, eyes covered by the crook of your elbow. You don’t see the way your boyfriend looks at you with love filling his eyes (and his dick). Or the way your chest shakes as you laugh, causing your tits to bounce with the sound of your cackling.

Your laughter dies in your throat, transforming into a hum when you feel Mingyu’s body cover your own, picking up right where he left off by taking your left nipple in his mouth, torturing the flesh with his tongue and teeth.

“Fuck, babe.” You whine pathetically. Hands moving to the waistband of his pants, fisting the material in an effort to get him naked.

His hips are cradled between your thighs, his erection hot and hard in his pants. When you plant your feet on the ground and grind against him, Mingyu sucks harder and uses a free hand to snare your wrists and trap them above your head.

“Be good.” He warns. Mingyu's attempt at domination falls flat because you know the only promise on the other side of it is that he’ll cream his pants before he gets his fill of you.

“I can be really good if you let me go.” You whisper, pushing your chest up into his face.

“Yeah?” He questions hopefully, unable to help that he’s a sucker for everything you do.

“Mhmm, want you in my mouth Gyu.”

Mingyu doesn’t respond sans the slow grind of his hips against your core, letting you feel all of him. He detaches from your nipple to bite across your chest once more, the echo of burning kisses left in his wake.

“Please, baby.” You press. “Wanna taste you.”

He might be the man of your dreams but Mingyu is still a guy. So when a beautiful woman (you) begs to suck him off, who is he to deny that experience? It’s a selfless act of him really.

Mingyu slides off you, giving you room to prop yourself up. You take him in. His hair is wild from your pulling, short tufts pointing every which way. His naked chest is flushed and heaving like your own. When your eyes trail south, his abs clench under your heated gaze. It's impossible to ignore how the movement makes his dick bob in his sweatpants, leaving nothing to the imagination.

“Sit on the couch.” You demand when your eyes meet again.

Having you boss him around gets Mingyu hotter than he’ll admit (to anyone except you). He knows most people assume he’s the one who calls the shots in the bedroom; Seungcheol had cracked one too many jokes about it for him to be unaware. And occasionally Mingyu does, twisting you into whatever position is stuck in his head or telling you to touch yourself while he watches from the end of the bed and jerks off. The glint in your eye when he bends you over the kitchen counter to stuff you with his cock tells him you like it too. But the second you command him to do anything, Mingyu folds like a house of cards.

You’re not unaware of how much he likes it but it leaves you in awe every time he scrambles to do what you say. Right now, he’s tripping out of his pants and underwear as he hops on to the cushions. You thank whatever powers may be that you don’t have a roommate to consider when fucking your ridiculously hot boyfriend on every surface of the apartment (especially when Mingyu’s attempt at fucking you in the bathroom ended with cum on the mirror on several occasions but thats a story for another time).

The hand circling your jaw distracts from your goal as mouths meet. Mingyu is bent over at the waist above you, tongue tracing hotly against your lower lip. You subtly push him back into the plush upholstery, propping yourself up on your knees, hands gripping his thighs to press further into his space. With Mingyu distracted, you let one of your hands drop to circle the scorching rigid flesh at the base of his cock.

“Fuuuu–ck,” he groans into your mouth but doesn’t breakaway. As much as he wants your mouth on his dick, Mingyu really does love kissing you. Probably because he spent months thinking about it and now he actually gets to do it as much as he wants.

“Yeah?” You echo his previous words. When your thumb traces the leaking tip to spread his pre-cum he moans again.

“Yeah.” he mumbles, nodding his head in affirmation.

When you’re finally able to pull away from his lips without protest in the form of him chasing you, you descend to mouth down his neck and chest. Your boyfriend is all hot skin and taunt muscle under your ministrations, shaking breath causing his chest to lurch when your teeth scrap his nipple. Your breasts brush purposely against Mingyu’s cock as you sink lower, his head goes fuzzy and tips back. The soft pass of skin plants ideas in his head about the day you’ll let him cum on your chest. You’re already enthusiastic when he comes on the swell of your ass or in your mouth. But the visual of you covered in his spunk, chin and nipples glistening white and skin flushed flashes in his vision. Mingyu opens his eyes and starts tracing patterns across the ceiling in hopes it prevents him from making it a premature reality.

You're not much better off. The contrast of his rigid length against the soft flesh of your chest has arousal gushing from your cunt. The thought of Mingyu finishing on your skin always makes you wet. Something about your incredibly sweet and polite boyfriend being incredibly filthy with you makes your chest heave. The first time he came on your ass you had him fuck you again while it cooled between your cheeks. It was also the first time Mingyu played with that hole, found out cum and spit made decent lube, and how you cum insanely hard if he thumbs the taunt ring of muscle while he fucks you stupid on his cock.

If you had lube you’d entertain the idea of letting him fuck your tits but you know the chaff without it isn’t worth it for either of you. Instead, you let the tip of your tongue trace the bulbous head of his cock, the tang flooding your taste buds. You’re doing nothing more than teasing him but the way he’s leaking against your tongue tells you he loves it.

When you back away just enough to spit on it, a rush of breath leaves his nose as your saliva dribbles across his frenulum and you smirk. Mingyu is so fucking easy.

Since the first time you two fooled around, you’ve discovered all the ways to get him whiny and desperate, memorizing his favorites with impressive speed. Mingyu likes it wet and messy, spit and cum glossing your lips and chin, dripping in his lap to pool at the base of his dick. He prefers when you use your mouth to focus on the head of his cock, but he’ll never complain if you use a hand to jerk him off in tandem. When you’re going to play with his balls, he moans when you fondle and whimpers when you give a gentle squeeze. If you meet his eye when your lips are stretched around his cock, he’ll blush like a virgin who hasn’t fucked you six ways from Sunday. And if you let Mingyu cum in your mouth, he’ll go down on you till you're shaking and he’s hard enough to fuck you right.

Tonight you try your best to give him a top notch performance. It helps that every detail about having Mingyu like this gets you hot in the best ways. Enjoying giving as much as he enjoys receiving. Having him wrapped around your finger makes you whine along with him, sharing in his pleasure like it’s your own.

The vibrations from your soft moans and whimpers do nothing except stretching Mingyu’s resolve thinner and thinner. Tangling his hands in your hair, he gently guides you back and forth, mostly taking the strain off your neck rather than enforcing your rhythm. The tug against your scalp satisfies you all the same.

“Fuck, baby,” he cries. “So good, fuck. So fucking good.”

A harsh suck causes his dick to exit your mouth with a lewd pop before it smacks against his tummy. Mingyu is quick to grab his cock, fisting himself before tapping against your lips for re-entry. You just stare from under your lashes, eyes wet from the prodding against the back your throat, only allowing gentle kisses to the soaking flesh.

“Open your mouth.” His words may seem dominant, but the whiny tone betrays his desperation.

You continue to sit there, allowing your nails to dig into the skin of his thighs, mixing a volatile cocktail of pain and pleasure. When his other hand unravels from your hair to pry your jaw open with his thumb, you can’t help the whimper you release in response to his manhandling as he forces his cock back between your lips.

“Gonna cum?” Your question is garbled from the way he stuffs your mouth full but Mingyu puts two and two together with his limited brain capacity.

“Wanna cum in your mouth,” he begs. “Please, baby.”

When your eyes flutter shut, Mingyu knows he has permission to do what he does best. He starts fucking your mouth in earnest, soaking in the sounds of you gagging and choking around his cock as practically humps your face. If you want his come he’ll give it to you in spades, he’ll drain himself until he’s on the verge of passing out if that’s what’ll make you happy.

It only takes a minute before you feel him twitch against your lips and the hot rush coats your tongue, dripping down your throat as you swallow around him. Mingyu’s hips buck up as he gives you his load, cum seeping out of the corners of your mouth and down your face just the way he loves. You pull away just enough that some of the spray hits your chin and leaks down onto his shaft allowing you to continue to jerk him off as he sings you praises.

In your opinion, the best part about Mingyu is if you keep sucking after he comes, he’ll come again.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” he bites. Mingyu loves you (not that he’s told you) but when you do this he thinks he might have to take away your dick privileges.

You pop your mouth off his cock but your hand doesn’t stop. Thumb swiping at the pearly slit right below your mouth, pushing the remains of his release across the spongy head.

“What baby?” Your brow is furrowed in mock concern, like you have no idea the torture you’re inflicting. “Just want you to cum.”

You’re evil. Pure evil sent from a past life to punish him.

“I have!” He winces. He grips the couch cushions for dear life as stars cloud the edges of his vision.

“But I want you to cum again. Don’t you wanna give me it?”

He can’t breathe.

“Please, Gyu? For me?”

You’re playing him like a damn fool.

“Just wanna feel you to cum on my tits, baby. Please!” You cry.

He’s drowning.

Mingyu’s second orgasm is less dramatic than his first. He’s writhing and shaking from the sensory overload, ass leaving the couch as his hips jerk wildly. His cum is more of a dribble than the sizable spurts you’re accustomed to but you take what he gives you with glee. You jerk him off over your chest, allowing him to paint your skin in white streaks, redden tip rubbing against the puckered flesh of your nipples to get every drop. Mingyu can barely keep his eyes open to enjoy the way you cover yourself in him, how you claim yourself as his in such a primal way.

It’s the gleam in your eyes as you pant below him, nearly drooling at the mess you’ve made that has him giving you one last sputter to trickle between your breast down to your navel.

When you go to mouth at his balls, Mingyu grabs a fist of your hair in reflex to keep himself out of your reach. He gently tugs until you slide your eyes away from his softening dick to his face.

“I will lock you in a closet if you try that again.”

Mingyu knows he sounds ridiculous but you’re insatiable and might actually kill him if you try to touch his dick again.

“You’re no fun.” You pout, unable to hide you’re disappointment when Mingyu refuses to let you play with him.

“Get your ass on this couch and I’ll show you how fun I am.”

Tonight, Mingyu discovers you really like when he collects his cum off your chest with his tongue and spits it in your mouth. You like it even more when he holds you down, pins your wrists at the dip of your spine, and eats it from the back like his life depends on it.

#svt x reader #svthub #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #kim mingyu #svt smut #seventeen smut #kim mingyu smut #🫡 highvern #svt #dghe couple

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eddiesxangel · 3 months

Text

Need You Now | Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Requested by @mmunson86 : Eddie and Reader were best friends who secretly liked each other, but then they went their separate ways after high school and kind of lost contact. one day, Eddie runs into Steve, who still talks to Reader, and after five years he realizes that he should’ve taken his shot and I don’t know maybe he has the urge to call her and instead he just shows up at her doorstep in the pouring rain he’s drenched in water, and he tells her how she feels and hopes that she does and well she does feel the same (Eddie finally asks her to be his girl) & well it gets smutttty 🥹💗 included the song Need you Now by Lady A

Cw: angst, mutual pining, friends to strangers to lovers, fluff, no use of y/n reader is referred to with nicknames (Peach, sweetheart, baby) smut, p in v, dirty talk, one mention of birth control, no use of condoms, creampies? Alchohol.

wc: 7.6k

comments and reblogs are always appreciated and encouraged <3

August 1984.

"So this is it, huh?" Eddie was completely taken aback by the suddenness of it all. He had known deep down that this day would eventually arrive, but it had always felt like a distant threat. Now that it was here, he struggled to come to terms with the fact that you were leaving him. You had always been ambitious, and he was incredibly proud of everything you had accomplished. But the thought of being left behind while you went on to bigger and better things was a tough pill to swallow. Despite his own feelings of loss and sadness, however, Eddie knew that he couldn't stand in the way of your dreams - he would never be the kind of person to hold someone back from reaching their full potential.

"Y-yeah." you sigh with shaky breath.

How could you leave him? The guilt gnawed at you because, even after everything, you never got to tell him how you felt. Now you are standing in the airport, feeling lost. It's too little, too late for confessionals.

Since you can remember, going to school in England has been your dream. You made it a mission and are now attending the University of Cambridge. You got in on a scholarship and scrapped up every penny working at Family Video for your four years of high school.

"You better write to me and all that shit" he pointed.

This made you giggle. "Of course, I'll even call once in a while. Hopefully, the long-distance charges won't be too lethal." You play with the chain hanging from your neck. You never took it off.

"Oh! I almost forgot... here!." Eddie rummaged around his pockets and pulled out a small wrapped gift. "Uh, open it when you get there, okay?"

"Teddy, you didn-"

"I wanted to. Please? Just take it." Eddie’s heart fluttered at your name of endearment.

You reach for the gift, fingers brushing, and you swear you feel sparks fly. You instantly jump into him, arms wrapping around his neck, taking in his feel, scent, and touch. Fuck this hurts more than you thought it would. But you kept telling yourself it wouldn't be forever, only four years; you could survive that. And you would be home in the summers. It wouldn't be so bad.

Tears threaten to fall as they rim your lashes. "I'll miss you," you sniffle, and your voice cracks.

It breaks Eddie's heart to see you like this. You were his girl, well, not technically, but you had his heart. You had it from the first moment he saw you in ninth-grade science when you were assigned to be his lab partner. From then on, you were as thick as thieves; if only you felt the same way...

"All passengers for flight 739, please make your way to gate 67; you are now boarding." Your heart sinks at the announcement; that was you. No more stalling.

You turn to your parents, giving them another tight hug, then quickly turn to Eddie again. You hug him once more, as tight as you can this time.

"You're squishing me, Peach. Can't. Breath." He jokes, and you look up at him with glossy eyes.

You reach up to your tiptoes, kiss his stubbly cheek and mutter the words he has been waiting to hear for the past four years. "I love you, Eddie."

Eddie was stunned, did he hear you correctly? You don't give him time to answer because you quickly turn without another word, not giving him a chance to speak, and you run. You run to the gate and don't look back.

For most of the flight, your mind was racing. You couldn't help but feel like a coward. Your mind was racing with questions and doubts. What if Eddie misunderstood your words as just platonic love? Or would he understand that you were actually in love with him?

You sat on the plane, staring at the gift box Eddie handed you. It was a small black square box with a red bow. Nothing fancy.

Once you were over international waters, you decided you couldn't wait anymore and opened it up.

As you slowly lift the lid, the tears start to well up in your eyes again. Your heart is pounding as you peer inside the small box and handwritten note and a silver mood ring were nestled inside. You reach in and carefully pick up the note and begin to read.

Dear, Peach

I am going to miss you so much, so here is a small token to remember me by…

Your Teddy.

You sniffle as you pick up the ring and hold it up to the overhead light to get a better look.

You turn it over in your fingers, examining every detail, trying to confirm whether or not this was Eddie's ring. It looks exactly like the one he wore daily, but you can't be sure. You had never seen him without it before? You try to think about if he had it on at the airport.

As you examine the ring, memories of Eddie flood your mind. You remember how he constantly fiddled with it, absentmindedly twisting it around his finger. You remember how he told you it was his mother's ring and how much it meant to him. But now, as you hold it in your hand, you can't believe he did this.

You try to slide it onto your fingers, but it's too loose to stay in place. You don't want to give up on the ring, though. It's too precious to lose. Suddenly, a thought strikes you, and you take off your necklace. You carefully latch the ring onto the chain, ensuring its security. You can keep it close to your heart as you wear it around your neck...

Now, 1991

"Peach?!” You jump and turn; you were startled when browsing the chips section at the Dollar Store. “Holy shit, it is you!"

"Steve?" You smile brightly and embrace him in a hug when you realize who is speaking to you. Not even twenty-four hours back home, and you’re already bumping into old friends. You had forgotten how small Hawkins really was.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" he asked with a bright smile across his face.

"Brian-you remember my brother Brian? He's getting married, had to come back for the wedding." You smile.

"When did you get back?! Have you seen anyone? Oh god, everyone is going to be thrilled." He hugged you again for good measure to make sure it was really you.

"I got back late last night; I'm still jetlagged, so I haven't seen or reached out to anyone yet... I don't think I have anyone's numbers anymore; it's been so long..." You felt so guilty. Your life in Hawkins was worlds away. You had been so busy once you graduated. You hadn't been home in about four years; visiting you was easier for your folks.

"I'll alert the media; I'll be the town crier! Let everyone know Peach is back!"

"Thanks, Stevie," you giggled.

"How long are you in town for?"

"Ummm, that's the thing; I think I am back for good?" Sure, you loved being overseas, but seven years was so long you missed your life back home, your family, your friends, and your visa was running out.

"This is amazing! Oh, we have to all get together to celebrate!"

"How um- how is everyone?"

"Good! Robin and I are roommates, Nancy and Jonathan are still going strong, Dustin, Mike, Lucas and Will, El and Max are off at their different colleges..."

"What, uh-what about Eddie?" You hadn't mutter his name in years. Things fell off like they did with everyone else. You used to write almost every day, but then school, friends, and boyfriends happened, and eventually, the letters stopped altogether.

The two of you never spoke of the "I love you" statement you made at the airport. You tiptoed around it like it didn't happen. Sometimes, you wished you had stayed to hear what he would have said, and other times, you were glad you ran. You took the hint that he didn't feel the same way when he never said anything back in his letters or the few times you called him.

"Oh, Ed's is great! Yeah, he has his own shop downtown; you know how good he was with fixing cars and all that. He got promoted a few months back when Richards decided to retire..." You smile at the thought of Eddie finally owning up to his potential.

"Oh, well, um, that's amazing! I really missed you guys." You sighed, subconsciously playing with the ring attached to the chain around your neck. You hadn't taken it off in the seven years you had been away.

"Well, I better get going, but I'll call you, ok?"

"Yeah, I'm with my folks for now until I find an apartment, so same number,” you smiled.

When you leave Steve, your mind can't help but race with thoughts of seeing Eddie again. Seven years is a really long time; would he still have his long hair? Would he have a girlfriend? Oh god, what if he has a girlfriend? Of course, he would have a girlfriend. He's Eddie. He is the most flirtatious guy out there; there is no way he would be sitting around waiting for you. Not that he would be waiting for you... he never said those three words back.

It's been less than twenty-four hours since you've been back in Hawkins, and yet your thoughts are consumed by memories of him. The sound of his voice echoes in your mind as if you had heard him yesterday... The way he laughed, the way he walked, and the way he used to look at you. His presence has left an everlasting mark on your psyche, and you can't help but wonder what he's doing right now, whether he's thinking about you too, or if you'll ever see him again.

Your stuff was all over the new apartment. You managed to score a place not too far from everyone, and it only took about a week and a half to find, sign and finalize a place to live.

The living room was filled with countless cardboard boxes, each one crammed with different items from your childhood home and England.

As you rummaged through them, your attention was suddenly grasped by a photo album that had been buried deep inside one of the boxes. It took you by surprise - I had completely forgotten about it. As you held it in your hands, you couldn't help but feel a rush of nostalgia and curiosity, wondering what picture-perfect memories were inside.

You grabbed your drink from the side table and crawled on the messy couch covered in old newspapers and bubble wrap. Pictures of you with the gang, in the Wheelers basement, at lovers lake, in the trailer…

Memories of late nights, early morning school pick ups, dnd creation sessions, forcible study sessions that ended up just you two talking for hours on end, Eddie making you fall for him and him you with neither of you were the wiser.

The phone ringing breaks you out of the trance. You scramble up off the couch the photo album falls off your lap and onto the floor as you scurry over to the phone mounted on the wall.

“Hello?” Nice to know the phone company installed it correctly.

“Hey! It’s Steve, how are you?”

“Good, just settling in; my place is a mess,” you giggle.

“Good, good. We are all getting together on Friday; maybe you can take a break from unpacking? We thought it would be nice to meet at my folk's place, old time's sake.” you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Yeah, that sounds good.” You hesitated. “Is, um, everyone going to be there?”

"Yep! Folks are out of town; we can use the pool to put advantage. Everyone is so excited you're back" emphasis on everyone.

“That’s great, Steve; I’m happy to be home, glad no one hates me," you chuckle uncomfortably. "I was kinda worried since I fell off the face of the earth...”

“Nah, we could never be mad at you.”

“Okay then! I’ll see you guys Friday,” you smile. Oblivious to the fact that none of your friends knew you were in town…

“So Stevie, what’s got you bouncing off the walls?” Robin asked.

It was Friday, and Steve had everyone already over for an hour before your arrival.

They had no idea you were back because Steve wanted to tell everyone simultaneously. So he invited Nancy, Jonathan, and Eddie so he could share the big news.

“Yea, you’re killing us, man,” Jonathan smirked.

“Okay, okay, okay! Everyone sit down.” Steve instructed. “So I was out running some errands, and you’re never going to guess who I ran into!”

“Vicki?” Robin asked.

“Nooo.”

“Chrissy?”

“Nope.”

“Max?”

“Nope, guess again.”

“Lucas?”

Amidst the incessant guessing, Eddie's mind drifted away to a memory of you. He pictured you walking through the front door with that enchanting smile you always had on your face. The sound of your voice was etched in his mind as if he had heard it only yesterday. His heart yearned for you, how you used to take over his whole world and light up his day with your infectious energy and captivating aura.

Just as Eddie is about to get lost in his thoughts of you, the doorbell snaps him back into reality.

“You uh expecting anymore else man?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah, you uh mind grabbing the door for me?” Steve was up to something, and Eddie could sense it. Maybe Dustin was home early?

“Why? Are you busy or something?”

“Yea, 'bout to get the pool ready..” he winks.

With his suspicions, Eddie tentatively stands and reaches the door. Behind him, in the distance, he hears Nancy, “Oh my god, shut up!” He must have shared the mystery person while he was out of war shot… jackass.

With his heart racing, he took the last few steps towards the door. His curiosity was piqued, and he felt a sense of anticipation building up inside him, wondering who could possibly be waiting on the other side. As he jogged, he could hear his own footsteps echoing in the hallway. Finally, he reached for the doorknob, ready to discover the mystery person on the other side.

You rang the doorbell once again… what had been taking so long?

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, hold your horses-” Eddie swung open the door without any hesitation as he was in the middle of his sentence. However, his words trailed off when he saw you standing on the other side.

“Hey, Teddy” you smiled as your heart pounded. It was pumping so hard he could probably see it beating through your chest.

“Oh my god.” Eddie looked like he had seen a ghost. The blood drained from his face. His eyes are wide with shock. Did Steve not tell him? “Oh my god!” You were suddenly knocked off your feet as Eddie's weight collided with yours.

“Hi,” you giggled, wrapping your arms around him.

"Peach?" It took him a second to process. “Holy shit, you’re here!” He spun you around before putting you down.

“Did Steve not tell you?” As you slowly stepped back, your eyes fixed on his face.

His once baby-smooth skin now bore a few fine lines, a testament to the life he had lived. Life was never kind to Eddie, but he held on to hope. His facial hair added a more mature rugged charm to the baby face you once knew. You couldn't help but admire the beauty that was Eddie Munson.

You also couldn’t wipe the stupid grin off your face and Eddie was so thankful because he had never been witness to something so beautiful.

“No! Oh my god! No, he didn’t tell us anything.” He couldn’t let you go; he needed to feel you to convince himself he wasn’t seeing things. You smelled just as he remembered, but also sweeter.

“She’s back?!” You hear Robin's voice coming from far inside the house. That made you giggle, and Eddie heard angels singing.

The loud sound of footsteps fills your ears, and you see Robin running towards the door. She bulldozes her way past Eddie and engulfs you in a suffocating hug.

“How long are you here?!” She squealed.

“For good!” You smile as you see Nancy and Jonathan run out after Robin.

“What?! You’re back forever?!” Nancy came running out the door

“Yes, forever!” You smile, glancing over at Eddie.

Eddie needed to process everything and stepped back so everyone else could say their long-awaited hellos.

He missed you so badly; of course, he tried to move on, but nothing was the same. Feeling overwhelmed by the avalanche of information he had just received, Eddie needed a moment to gather his thoughts. With a smile, he excused himself from the room and went through the house to the backyard.

The warm afternoon breeze hit his face as he leaned against the deck railing. Taking a deep breath of the fresh air. He reached into his pocket for his pack of cigarettes, and with a flick of his lighter, he lit one up. As he took a long first drag, he closed his eyes and let his mind wander, hoping to find clarity amid the chaos because you were back.

He hadn’t been out there for two minutes, barely making a dent in the cigarette, when he heard the sliding glass door open and close behind him.

“Hey, you okay, man?” It was Steve.

“Yeah, yeah, just in shock, I guess...” He took a long drag of the cigarette and blew the puffs of smoke in the other direction, away from Steve's face.

“She looks good, huh?.” Steve smirked as he also leaned back against the railing next to Eddie.

"Yeah, uh yea really good" He tried releasing his tense shoulders, but it was of no use.

"I didn't see a ring on her finger… but I did see one around her neck… looked familiar too.”

"What?” Eddie’s head snapped up.

“See for yourself.”

You were now in the kitchen, facing him through the window. Clear as day your exposed chest dawned his ring.

What did this mean?

"Looks like now's your chance." Steve clapped his back.

"It's been so long… things are- I don't know, things just won't be the same. Too much time has passed."

"That's why I say seize the day!"

"Don't Carpe Diem me," Eddie scoffed.

"Well, you better because there is no way I’m going to let someone else swoop in and snatch her up because you’re too dumb to say you love her back." In a swift motion, Steve reached out and plucked the cigarette from Eddie's lips, brought it up to his own mouth, took a long drag, and savoured the taste of the smoke. As he exhaled, he brought the cigarette back down and carefully stubbed it in the ashtray, snuffing out every last bit of ember. The two friends sat silently for a moment, lost in their thoughts.

"Don’t fuck this up again,” he smirked before slipping back inside with the others.

Your gaze automatically finds Eddie as you make your way out the door and into the yard, it was a pool party after all. You even bought a new swimsuit for the occasion because you wanted to make an impression on Eddie. He hadn't seen you since you were no more than a few weeks older than eighteen, when you were still awkward and pimply. Now at twenty-five, you’ve come into your body, and you looked fucking good.

You knew that your body had changed considerably since you were a teenager, and you wanted to look your best.

So when you went shopping you settled on a navy blue option with little white anchors, cute without trying too hard, or so you hoped. It accentuated all of your best assets.

Confidently, you let the shawl slip down your shoulders. Eddie felt like you were moving slowly as he watched you bend over to remove your jean shorts.

If Eddie didn't know any better, he'd think you were doing it intentionally. His hands were getting sweaty, and he needed to tighten his grip on the beer bottle so it wouldn't slip. You made him nervous; you were beautiful, elegant, and not to mention sexy, even more so than he remembered.

As you reach out to grab the drink from Robin's hand, you can sense Eddie's intense gaze fixed on you. Robin, who seems oblivious to the brewing tension, turns around and walks towards the pool chairs where Eddie, Steve, Jonathan and Nancy are lounging. You watch as Robin joins the trio, leaving you standing alone, wondering what Eddie's piercing stare could possibly mean. With a deep breath, you take a swig and join your group of friends.

Like a flip of a switch, Eddie's face softens when he sees you coming towards them. He takes in your body the closer you get. As soon as he caught a glimpse of you, his heart began to race uncontrollably. He couldn't believe how stunning you looked, and his eyes were immediately drawn to his ring that adorned your necklace.

You watched as Eddie gazed at you with admiration. It was like he was noticing every detail about you. Memorizing you - the way your hair cascaded over your shoulders, the sparkle in your eyes, the curve of your lips as you smiled. Eddie always knew how to make you feel special, even with just a look.

"Here, you can take mine." Eddie gets up. Alwasy the gentalman.

"No, it's okay. They are big enough we can share." You smile as you lay out your towel to sit at the end of the long white chair.

Conversations about everyone and how they have been lasted about an hour before you decided it was way too hot to not take advantage of the pool. While living in England, you have had to endure the cool and damp weather. It's such a contrast to the hot and humid summers that you grew up with in Hawkins. The scorching heat can sometimes get unbearable, yet a refreshing change from the gloomy weather back in England.

"I'm going in if anyone wants to join me." You set down your sweaty glass and walk over to the pool. Nancy and Robin follow closely behind before you glance back at the boys.

“Hey, come in with us.” You offer with a smile.

You hear a splash from the pool and see the two other girls' heads bobbing up from under the water.

Steve and Jon nod their head while Eddie shakes his no.

“You sure?” You offer once more, raising your brow.

Once again, Eddie shakes his head no before the other two boys grab him by the arms and drag him to the water's edge.

You giggle before taking a graceful dive in to join your girlfriends. The three of you tread water as you watch the boys struggle from land.

"Hey! Come on, I still have my shirt on!" Eddie protested.

"Take it off!" Robin yelled, pulling another giggle from you.

"Oh you think seeing me shirtless is funny, Peach?" He quipped. He was kidding, of course, but you couldn't help to fight off the blood rushing to your cheeks.

Too flustered to reply, you don't say anything; however, the boys save you by throwing Eddie in the pool. You flinch away from the splash of water that gets in your eyes and wait for Eddie to come back up for air. You stare at the spot that he was thrown in, but he doesn't come back up.

"Eddie?" you ask, feeling a bit worried. However, as you are standing in the water, a feeling of terror fear overtakes you as something grabs your waist from below the surface and pulls you backwards. You let out a small scream, but quickly cover your mouth as you feel strong arms wrap around you, holding you close to their chest.

"Teddy, you idiot!" You play scream but also can't hold back your laughter as Eddie pops back up for air, trying to swim off with you in toe.

"What? I'm saving you from sharks." He shrugs like he is doing the most obvious thing in the world.

"God, you haven't changed a bit, have you?" You gaze into his eyes as he pinned you against the pool wall. You can’t help but take in his beauty.

"What is that a bad thing?" He cocks his head.

"N-not at all," Your breath hitches.

For a fleeting moment, you lose the sense of your surroundings. You forget about group's presence that is intently observing your and Eddie's every move. It's as if you are in a bubble, separate from the rest of the world. Your attention is drawn to the black t-shirt that now clings tightly to his wet body, accentuating every contour of his muscles in a way you hadn't noticed before. During your high school days, you remembered him as a lanky teenager.

Now, you noticed he had put on a lot of muscle mass. His chest was broad and well-defined, his biceps looked like they were about to burst out of his shirt, and his forearms were thick and veiny.

You couldn't help but feel a slight tingle through your core as the thought of running your hands over his muscular chest crossed your mind…

"I like what you did with the ring." He flicked your necklace with his index finger, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

"Oh yeah, I, uh, it didn't fit, so... Had to keep it safe, you know." You chuckled awkwardly. "Never took it off."

"Never?" He was shocked.

"Never," You whispered back.

"Your boyfriend okay with having another man's ring around your neck, Sweetheart?"

"I-I-uh- no, no boyfriend." God, why was it like you had forgotten how to speak.

"Noted." You can't help but want to kiss the stupid gin off of his face.

You reminisced about the countless hours you had spent lost in your own thoughts, daydreaming about kissing his lips. Maybe, just maybe, a new beginning would allow Eddie to finally see you in the same light that you had always seen him. Little did you know Eddie also daydreamed about your lips. Especially the memory of watching you say those three words in the airport. It plagued his dreams day and night. He should have said them back, but he was too shocked to react, and before he knew what was happening, you were boarding the airplane to take you far far away from him.

"Okay, love birds, enough of this. We are playing macro polo!" Robin announced, popping the bubble that was you and Eddie.

You were suddenly embarrassed by your behaviour in front of your other friends. You were there to see everyone, not just Eddie, but you can’t help yourself, you have missed him so badly, sometimes you felt like your chest was in physical pain from how much your longed for him.

He still was the last person you thought about before going to bed many nights. Even the times when you had a boyfriend…That’s why none of your relationships worked, because he was right. You wore another man’s ring on your neck and refused to take it off no matter your relationship status. You were forever his, even if you technically never were, but your heart belongs to him.

The rest of the day was filled with laughter and catching up on old times. You tried your best to divide your attention to everyone but somehow you and Eddie were drawn to one another. He needed to be sitting next to you, to touch you whenever he could. To convince himself that you were in fact real and not going anywhere.

To Eddie you were the one that got away. The endless nights he stayed up thinking about you, the day you left, the days and nights spent, platonically, wishing he had just made a move… but maybe that would have made your move all that harder?

The ring was a spur of the moment decision that he was glad he made. He always caught you looking at it. He loved that you loved it and that you would have a piece of him while you were gone. He knew you would protect it and cherish it because he knew how much you knew it meant to him. It was one of the last things that he had left of his mother, and he felt that it symbolizes how much you meant to him…

Saying goodbye to every wasn’t half as painful as the last time you had to do it because it really wasn’t ‘goodbye’ but ‘see you later’.

Eddie offered to walk you to your car, before you left. He wanted to speak with you alone.

“It was really good seeing you” you lean against the door of your car.

“Yeah it really was… Um, hey… look can we talk?”

“Of course, what’s up?”

“I just need to know, why?”

“You gotta be more specific there Teds” you giggle.

“You tell me you love me then run away to England for almost a decade!.”

“Oh.”

How was it that this conversation was happening now, in Steve’s parents driveway? Things were fine a minute ago back in the house?

“How was I supposed to process that? What was I suppose to do with that information? Tell me Sweetheart because let me tell you it really fucked with my head.”

“Teddy I’m sorry, I was so young and scared but I had to let you know… I couldn’t stand the thought of you not knowing.”

“You didn’t even give me the change to say it back…”

“What?”

“ I said you-”

“I know what you said Eddie but you had plenty of chances! We wrote every week and we phone once a month what about them!”

“I can’t do this again…”

“Wh-what?” Your words betrayed you as your voice wobbled.

“It’s good to see you, but I don’t think I can go through all of this again.” Eddie couldn’t stop the words. He didn’t know why he was saying these things? This was not how this was suppose to go. But he was so mad you left him and he never got closure.

“Go through all of what?”

“You left. You left me here in Hawkins while you went out and became someone! I was held back two years, a fucking super senior as you were out in the world without me.”

“Oh I see. So this is my fault?” Now you were pissed. How dare he pin his mistakes on you.

“Forget it.”

You didn’t know what to do. You and Eddie never fought before? Now he’s a perfect stranger and yelling at you because you had left him. But he knew you were to leave eventually. How could he expect you to not go to your dream school? Why did he give you his ring?

“Well if that is how you feel.” You reach up to unlatch the chain from your neck and let go of the thing that had been attached to you for the past seven years.

Without a word you hand it to Eddie, and get in your car and drove home.

You cried the whole way home. It was a miracle you were able to see through the burning tears that stained your cheeks. Fitting that it should start to thunderstorm the second you get out of the car; at least it will hide your tears from your nosey neighbours.

As you stepped inside your apartment, the weight of the day's events pressed heavily on your mind. You reached for the nearest bottle and poured yourself a glass, savoring its amber color and the warmth it brought to your throat. The first glass went down quickly, followed by another and then another, each one helping to ease the pain of disappointment and frustration.

After a few hours of wallowing in self-pity and letting the alcohol work its magic, you finally gathered the courage to walk over to the phone. You braved the hallow ringing as it seemed to go on forever.

There's a fat chance he will answer, but you had to get this off your chest. You still love him.

"Hey, sorry I missed your call, just leave a message after the" beeeeep

"Hey, yeah, it's me... Peach. Just been thinking about everything tonight…And I don't know,” you sniffle. “I just miss you so much. I thought about you all the time… did you think about me? -shit- I’m a little drunk I uh…just ignore that last part. Give me a call back if you can?"

Shit, this was so stupid... could you sound any more desperate? “Did you think about me?” God, you wanted to crawl into a hole and die. He’s already shot you down twice, but at this point, you would rather be hurt than feel nothing at all. He has found a permanent home within your heart, and the eviction notice has been shredded and burned.

After you hung up the phone, you went straight to bed. You did nothing but toss and turn for two hours. Thinking about Eddie and the words he spoke. You had to do something; you regretted giving him the ring back. Your neck felt bare without it like a part of you was missing.

As the rolling thunderstorm rumbled in the background, you heard a knock on the front door. At first, you were sure it was just the storm playing tricks on your mind. But then, you hear it again - three distinctive knocks that make you freeze in place. You couldn't help but wonder who could be knocking at your door at this hour and in the middle of a storm? Your mind raced with thoughts of potential intruders, lost travellers seeking shelter, or even a neighbour in need of assistance. With a sense of caution, you waited another minute, hoping to hear something that would help me identify the person on the other side of the door.

Again, three more knocks.

You let out a string of curses under your breath as you nervously glance towards the door, wondering who could be knocking at this ungodly hour. The darkness of the night envelopes you completely, with no one else around to offer you any comfort or protection. So you flick on the hallway light for some semblance of comfort.

The howling wind outside only adds to your anxiety as it whips through the trees with a mournful wail. The rain pelts against the ground with a relentless force, creating a deafening crescendo that echoes through the stillness of the night. You feel as though you're trapped in the middle of a horror story or some twisted nightmare.

“Peach, it’s me!” You hear a deep voice coming from the other side of the door as you slowly approach it. You peer through the peephole to double-check, but as soon as you see who is on the other side, you wrench the door open so fast that you almost take it off its hinges.

“Eddie?” You look at him with swollen eyes. "It's one in the morning."

"Quarter after, actually." His heart sank a little when you called him by his actual name.

"Okay?”

"You cheated me out of the chance to say it to your face! That's the least you and I, for that matter, deserved!" Eddie barged his way past you and into your home, not caring that he was leaving a puddle from the relentless downpour. He was drenched from the tips of his hair to the soles of his shoes. "You didn't even let me say it back!"

“You loved me?” The realization of his words sunk in.

“Not loved, sweetheart.”

“Oh,” the disappointment was evident on your face. Eddie could always read you like a book.

“Love, present tense.”

Your heart rate at this point should have been concerning. After all this time?

"and to answer your question, I thought about your every goddamn minute of every goddamn day."

"Please, I didn't mean any of that stuff I said back at Steve's. I don't know what came over me; I'm an idiot, forgive me? I take it all back!"

"You love me?"

"Yes, oh god, yes, I have since the ninth grade and never stopped!" Eddie's heart pounded in his chest as he awaited your reply. Maybe this was stupid? Perhaps he fucked up so badly that it was irreversible. Never did he ever think you would give him the ring back. He knew he fucked up the second you placed it in his hand, but he was too hard-headed to apologize.

When you exited the driveway, he immediately snapped out of his foolishness and started chasing you down the street. No way he was losing you again because of past hurt feelings and pure stupidity on his end. He can't believe he was about to let you walk away from him. Again.

"Please say something?" Eddie pleaded, stepping closer to you.

"I don't know what to say, Eddie? You've been sending me mixed signals all day."

"What is it you need? Space? Time?"

"No."

"Then what?"

"You!"

"Me?"

"I just need you now." With a surge of courage, you stepped forward and closed the distance between you and Eddie.

Heart racing, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his, feeling the cold, wet rain residue and softness of his mouth against yours. It was a moment of pure bliss, leaving you breathless.

After years and years of imagining, dreaming, and picturing, this moment finally came to fruition. Some may say it was a manifestation; others might say it was destiny.

An overwhelming heat bloomed from your core and spread throughout your whole body as Eddie’s strong hands explored your exposed skin. Your burning need to overpower the feeling of the coldness of Eddie’s wet, damp clothing. You had been wearing an oversized shirt and underwear when you opened the door, but that only aided him.

His hands trailed up from your hips and slid under your shirt so he could hold you by your waist. As he tasted you, he pressed his body further into you, pushing you back further down the hall towards the bedroom.

"You have me." He pulled away breathlessly as he took you in. Your once dry white shirt was now damp and translucent, sticking to your body. Eddie couldn't help but groan at the sight of your peaked nipples trying to pierce their way through the thin material blocking you from him.

You could feel the pool of arousal collecting in your panties. Never had you been so turned on in your life than in this moment.

“I have you.” You mumble before taking his lips once again. You let his tongue part your lips as he explored your mouth. You tasted like mint toothpaste and a hint of whiskey.

"Baby, I need you now." He moans.

Baby. A plume of butterflies erupted deep within you at the name. There was no going back now; you and Eddie were destined to be together like it was written in the cosmos.

Despite the tension between you two, somehow, you managed to break apart just enough to lead him to the bedroom. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation as you both stood there, breathing heavily, staring into each other's eyes.

"You're perfect," Eddie whispered as he backed you up onto the bed that stood in the middle of the room.

You willingly fell back onto the soft sheets below as his lips met yours. Needy hands pulled at the fabric that separated you.

Lightning lit up the room as your silhouettes danced on the walls. Eddie, atop your body, melted into your plush bed as you both stripped fully.

“Please, Eddie,” you whined as he was taking too slow; the wet fabric clung to his clammy skin. He needed warming up, but you knew just the cure. “I’ve waited for so long.”

“Me too, Sweetheart.”

Having been confined for what seemed like an eternity, he was finally able to break free from the shackles of his own clothes that had become a wet and cold prison for him.

You are both now fully naked in your room. You take in the sight of the man before you and what a man he is. Drinking in every last detail your eyes could see in the dim light. He had more tattoos than when you had left, and you were right about his body being more filled out than you remembered. And his cock, so beautiful you could almost cry at how perfect it was.

“God you’re beautiful.” Eddie whispers as he did the same thing.

"So are you." You reach up to take his rough cheek in your palm, gently pulling him down towards you. You sigh into the kiss as you feel Eddie’s weight fall on you.

You can’t help but grind your hips up into his throbbing cock. It’s rock hard as it rests on your soft middle.

Eddie reaches between your two connected bodies and finds your wet pussy with his fingers. A feral moan leaves your lips, and his calloused fingers brush against your swollen, sensitive clit.

The lewd sounds of lips smacking and Eddie playing with your wet pussy fills the room with the pounding of the storm in the background.

“Please, Eddie, I can’t wait. I just need you now.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, please I need your cock so bad.” You begged. There was no time for foreplay; you’ve waited long enough for this moment.

Eddie couldn’t believe this was happening to him.

“I don’t-I didn’t- shut I don’t have-”

“I’m on birth control,” you blurt out.

“You sure?”

“Please, Eddie, I need to feel you… to fill me. All of you.” You craned your neck to reach up and kiss the side of his. You marked him, leaving a significant bite mark that would let everyone know he’s taken. He is yours. Always has been.

“Shit, okay,” he moans as your mouth explores his throat. Eddie would do anything you asked of him at this point.

Eddie slowly guides through your folds, collecting your slick on his shaft, and glides into your pussy.

God, you felt amazing, so wet, so warm, so tight. His perfect girl.

“Oh my god,” you arch up into him so you could feel every inch of him.

“You look so pretty like this.” he mewled as he slowly ground his cock into your needy pussy.

“Fuck fuck fuck” Eddie rambled as he hit the hilt. He slowly dragged his cock back and rocked gently back into you like he didn’t want you to break.

You captured his lips on yours once again, muffling your throaty moans.

Eddie was tender; Eddie was sweet. He wanted to make sure you knew he wasn’t just fucking you; he was making love to you.

God, he loved you, even though all those years separated you. He still loved you.

“Eddie, feels so good!” Your mind was captivated by him. Everything in this moment was eternally Eddie.

Eddie’s hips never stopped, they sped up only a little to gain momentum as the sticky heat between you only grew more are more delicious.

“You feel that baby?”

“Oh god, yes.” You hook your ankles around Eddie's back, pulling him in deeper. His cock hit your g spot with each grind and roll of his hips.

His hands find yours, and he laces his fingers between your own, bringing your hands above your head.

“You make me feel so good; oh god, your pussy is taking me so well, fuckin’ made for me.”

“Mmmmhmmmm,” you agree, “made to be with you,” you moan.

“Yea, baby, you think we were made for each other?”

“Yes,” you answered, too fucked out to be self-conscious about what you were saying.

Your orgasm was quickly building and building as Eddie’s hips continued to grind into yours.

“I love you,” you let slip as Eddie continues to make you feel like you’re floating.

You’ve died and reached heaven. You swore nothing could make you feel better. But you were mistaken; Eddie proved you wrong with the next words that were uttered out of his mouth.

"I love you." He sealed his declaration of love with an emotional kiss.

Your head spun with his words. Did he really just say that? Are you really here? The reality of where you are hits you hard as your orgasm rips through you. You were in bed with Eddie, your Eddie. Eddie, who makes you feel safe and loved and important and worshiped.

“Oh my god, oh my god!”

“Shit-fuck” your cunt clamped down on Eddie so tightly as he tried to hold on a little longer, savouring the moment, trying to hold out as long as possible.

“Where do you want it?” He breathlessly asked.

Still making love to you for as long as he could hold off until you told him you loved him again over and over, totally overcome by the serotonin washing your brain, you don’t even know you’re speaking.

“Inside,” you look up into Eddie’s eyes, and he cums immediately. He swore he never heard more beautiful words.

Eddie slowly pumped himself inside of you as he rode out his orgasm, and you kissed every inch of his face.

“I’m never letting you go.” He sighs as he collapses his body weight on top of yours.

“Good, because I’m never going anywhere without you again.” You incase him in a bear hug as your legs and arms wrap around his body one more.

“I love you, Peach.”

“I love you more, Teddy.”

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kurogxrix · 10 months

Note

omg stark!reader n Peter in stark tower flirting and tony teases them (hopefully mutual pining and like they haven’t confessed to each other yet)

Dedicate Your Heart

Peter Parker x Stark!reader

A/N: reader can be seen as Tony’s biological or adopted daughter :)

“To your left Spider-Man!” had been the last thing that Peter had heard before getting shoved to the side, quite painfully so be the stack of boxes that you had been carrying. The tower of cardboard threatened you with a stagger as you bumped into Peter, before peacefully settling back in place.

Despite it being a mid saturday morning, you found yourself in your father’s lab instead of in the comfort of your dear room. Though you’d already agreed to help him, so there was no way you could turn back on him now. Admitively you weren’t here totally by your own will, you’d solely done it because Tony had teased you about being some edgy teenager that sticks in her room all day. And while you were, admitting with no shame that staying slumped on your bed while blasting some old school rock through your headphones was definitely a vibe, you decided to prove to your dad that there were many other things that you could do to render that brain of yours utile.

It wasn’t like your father was a stranger to your accomplishments, far from that.

Setting the boxes down on the countertop, you couldn’t help the heavy groan that escaped your mouth. You didn’t have super strength like most of the other people living in the tower, and damn could a few boxes make your backache go crazy. Nevertheless, throughout your struggle, you failed to notice the way that a certain curly haired brunette had his eyes stuck on you for the duration of your time here.

Peter had not even said anything after you had brutally (in his dictionary. You’d argue and say that it was playfully) shoved him away with your boxes. Instead, his eyes lingered on your form. He nearly had to slap himself after his iris laid on your torso for a little too long, but could you blame him?

The skin-tight black tank top that you often wore while working in the lab was just so attractive to Peter.

He watched as the shirt slid up a couple of inches as you stretched, exposing a sliver of your stomach and rippling the muscles in your arms. Sure you weren’t as bulky as Thor yet alone Hulk, but fighting crime alongside the avengers and training with them did flatter your physique. God, Peter was sure that he must’ve been drooling by now. What a fool.

“You want a picture too or are you too busy engraving the sight in your mind?” your voice shook Peter out of his stance, a bright red colour raising upon the back of his neck as you caught him checking you out red handed. The sole sound of your assertive tone had him doubling over, at least in his head, because he could avoid being humiliated furthermore.

“Hey, wasn’t it you that chose my outfit for our last gala? Heard from a little birdie that it was because you thought i’d look handsome in it?” Peter retaliated, though his voice held more diffidence than yours did. You froze upon his admission, the metallic parts of the gadget that you were working on released a loud ‘thud’ as it came down to hit against the countertop. You winced at the sound, internally cursing your mother figure, Pepper, for exposing your secret.

It was true though, and there was no point in denying it now that it was out in the open. You could still remember the exact moment that Tony had informed you all about some gala that you had to attend alongside him, some rich guy thing. Although you protested, he insisted. So that’s how you’d ended up in this position, having to choose a partner that was actually your age to accompany you there. It wasn’t that you necessarily needed one so badly, but every other avenger already had someone to accompany them, but the age gap between yourself and the rest of your team already made you feel sort of excluded in most things, so bringing a date it was.

Beyond everyone else, your first thought was to ring Peter up and ask him about it. After all, he was perfect for the job. He already knew your father and he was always so enthusiastic for whatever journey you’d reserve for him. Only problem was, well…Peter was broke. So given that you were the daughter of a billionaire, you might’ve as well dressed him up. Though as soon as you thought about Peter in a specific suit, you felt your brain short circuiting in awe.

It took you a moment to recover from your lone embarrassment. How could the mere thought of a man get you so riled up? It was those kinds of questions that you’d always bring up to yourself when it came to Peter, and on that night, you came to the fact that you might’ve had feelings for the boy. Naturally, as a teenage girl, you would’ve firstly ran to your phone to text your friends about it. Though you ran short on these, being a Stark, you knew how people could get once they indulged in another’s’ money and clout. The ideas of having friends apart from the avengers had completely been wiped clean out of your mind after a few failed attempts.

You thought about telling Natasha, and as much as you loved the older woman, you dreaded the way she’d tease you if you ever opened up about your feelings for a certain Spider-man. So, telling your mother it was.

“My mom is such a snitch.” you mumbled under your breath, supposedly to yourself but the chuckle that escaped Peter told you that it came out a little

louder than expected. The lab was relatively quiet after that, other than the sounds of you piecing things together and Peter’s loud thinking as he made a virtual maquette of what he was planning. To the both of you, the secret glances that you were exchanging might’ve gone over your heads, but not to a certain billionaire playboy that stood by the elevator door. Well scratch that, ex-playboy.

Once again, the lab was quiet. Almost too quiet for it to be containing the both of you teens in there, Tony thought to himself. He was no stranger to Peter’s feelings towards you, neither were the other avengers, nor yourselves at that. The flirting was nothing new to the obscene things that the poor heros were bound to see, and it was almost too much for them to handle. It was like a constant war between teammates that was happening in the tower. One side would agree with the fact that you were both oblivious to each other’s feelings, while the other half believed that you were both very aware, but undeniable cowards when it came to outwardly confessing.

Your dad fell in the team of people who believed that you both knew you liked each other. How could he not? He had to suffer through your endless flirting and playful banners everyday. Plus, he knew admiration when he saw it. He is Tony Stark after all, he’d received many lovestruck looks in his youth, and they’d only multiplied as he aged.

Amidst his work, Peter couldn’t concentrate for any longer with the amount of noise that you were causing. Your patience ran short as you tried to forcefully shove a metal piece against another, not understanding why it wasn’t fitting together. One look at you and he could tell that you were frustrated. Your creased eyebrows, that slightly disgusted look that you wore on your face, it all told the same exact story. Narrated through your eyes that were piercing daggers at the poor gadget before you, Peter knew better than to just leave you alone. Mainly because he feared for the poor object, a woman’s wrath is not to be played with.

“I mean, kiss me if i’m right but, this piece most definitely goes here.” Peter took the piece from your hand, startling you slightly as he appeared out of thin air. His words rang inside your head for a second, the thoughts of kissing Peter making you feel dizzy after so long of chasing one another. The endless nights spent awake just to text Peter and the amount of time that you’d sneak out just to meet up with the curly haired boy. It all meant more than it would let off, and that was much considering nearly everyone thought you two were already dating.

You allowed Peter to take the segment of your father’s work from your hands, placing it in a slot that was laid idiotically close to the one that you were trying to force it in. Without hesitation, you hurriedly plugged in the machine, and with enthusiasm, you watched as your father’s project lit up successfully.

In the midst of everything, Peter could barely makeout that time that it had taken you to turn around and engulf him in your embrace. Warm and familiar arms welcoming him as they latched behind his neck, he nearly doubled back at your force.

“I’d kiss you but that’d just destroy everything that we’ve built throughout these years now, wouldn’t it?” you bat your eyelashes up at him, the side of your face flushed against his chest as Peter looked down at you with those doe eyes of his. You could’ve sworn that it wasn’t you that was trying to soften him with that sweet look, but quite the inverse.

You both indulged in the moment, guilty of relishing the other with nothing else but your eyes. Though what lied in your iris told another story than one that’s platonic, your mouths just couldn’t allow yourselves to confess. It wasn’t that you both were oblivious to the other’s feelings, you both just feared the change of dynamic that’d come with altering this relationship into a romantic one.

You feared that your teasing texts would turn into unceasingly mushy ones. And Peter feared that if anything bad was to happen between you two, he’d lose you forever, even as a friend. Though you both were young and understanding, you set asid the thought of making anything official for now.

As you continued to stare into Peter’s eyes, you couldn’t help but lean further into him, closer up. He reciprocated your motion, pupils never straying away from your own as his breath hitched under the circumstances. Sure you weren’t ready for a relationship with Peter now, but what harm was there with a little kiss? You could always be all up in eachothers faces one day and fist-bump like highschool best-friends on the other.

“Oh and cut it to the wedding scene already, we’ve been through too much foreplay!” there came the clap of his hands before his words, and soon was your father’s cover blown. You both froze at the teasing tone of his voice, familiar so, it was impossible to escape the Stark banter. You almost scoffed audibly before remembering the position that you were currently in. Peter felt his heartstrings being tugged at once he felt you parting away from him, but yet again, you guys were nothing more than just friends.

The rise of crimson colour upon Peter’s cheeks was a cute sight to see, and admitively you’d spend more time admiring him in his flustered state, but for now, you had an irritated attitude to put on for your father.

“For how long have you been stalking us, old man?” you rolled your eyes at your father, crossing your arms above your torso as you stared him down. The smirk that played on Tony’s face irked you, and you wanted nothing more than Pepper walking in and telling him off. God only knows how much a husband fears his wife, and Tony more than feared his own. He laughed shortly, throwing his head back as though you had said the funniest thing ever heard by men. Peter just stood there in all of his awkwardness, moving his head to gaze at your father and you relentlessly like some cartoon character.

“Long enough to know that your little flirting in my lab is disgusting, get your own to do that crap over there.” he responded sarcastically, a Tony Stark trait.

“I was not flirting with your daughter, Mr Stark!” Peter retaliated nervously, his words coming out faster than his mind could comprehend. He felt even more stressed as he watched his superior stare him down with an amused expression on, feigning comprehension before opening that mouth of his once more.

“Right and that explains why you were just about to kiss her? Cmon kids, I was anything but born yesterday.” Tony laughed at you both once more, and clearly, he was enjoying this way more than the two of you.

Before any of you have the time to respond, your father was already on his way out. With his back facing towards you, he plucked his iconic sunglasses from the pocket of pants, the arc reactor peeking through the fabric of his thin summer shirt.

“Be sure to be safe, your kids could end up just like my lovely daughter, and I'm sure none of you guys are ready for this!” your father turned around swiftly to wink playfully at you, sending the pair of you finger guns as he walked backwards towards the elevator. Lord, how much did you wish for him to slip and break his saunter, but a man such as Tony was too smooth in his ways. With the humiliation of his words running thick through your veins, and your head in your hands in shame, you’d promised yourself that you’d get your revenge on your dear father. Somewhat, someday.

The sound of the elevator’s ‘ting’ sent relief coursing throughout Peter and you, now that your father is gone, you’d have to deal with the other situation at hand.

“We weren’t flirting right? Just talking as friends?” Peter nervously rambled as soon as you turned back around to face him. His words were the opposite of what he wanted, of course he wanted you both to flirt as more than friends, but he didn’t want to scare you if anything. His hand was itching a spot behind his neck, where nothing irritated him, it was just an anxious habit that he had. Trying to surpass a chuckle, you sauntered your way towards the brunette.

Peter’s eyes widened comically as you raised a hand towards him, and his thoughts ran wild with anticipation. Was this it? Were you finally going to surpass this fear of commitment and just kiss him? His shoulders dropped visibly when your hand came to remove his own from his neck, saving him from the rash that he was bound to develop after itching the same spot repetitively like he always did.

Peter’s heart did an nearly audible ‘oh’ in disappointment. Though on the outside, he was all shiny smiles and full set of teeth on display. He was ready to move past what you had, but if you couldn’t meet him halfway, how could he act on it?

Peter observed with keen eyes as you walked back to your spot, sending a curt notice to F.R.I.D.A.Y, asking to press play on your playlist.

Suddenly, Peter’s disappointment was replaced with something else. With dedication, perhaps. He vowed to make a change in what you had by the end of this year, promising himself to prove to you that maybe a relationship with him wasn’t so bad. That you could work things out like two responsible people if anything were to happen. He just urged to get a taste of you, of what it was like to wake up and be more than just your best bud.

i wrote this with a swollen thumb and i half-asleep mind so please don’t judge😭

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #spiderman #spiderman x trader #tom holland x reader #stark!reader #mcu!peter x reader #mcu!peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker oneshot #peter parker x stark!reader #tony stark x daughter!reader

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mei-sm · 2 months

Note

Could I request Dan Heng and reader playing with Ruan Mei's creations? Those little cats have my heart.

pairings - dan heng x reader

not proofread (yet)

hihi! it's my pleasure, i find those cats very cute as well :3

finally finishing up your mission, you walk through the express doors, wanting nothing more than to be in your lover's arms.

however, fate seemed to have different plans for you. you walk into the express to see complete chaos. chaos as in a threatening amount of cats everywhere. there was a ton on the couch, three on the coffee table…and one somehow managed to get on top of a door??

“(name), you’re back?” said a calm, low voice, you recognize the voice instantly. your head turns quickly, and you see dan heng. and he just so happens to be the person you’re looking for.

you warmly smile as you walk towards your lover, “after oh so long,” you say in a melodramatic manner. you open your arms, practically dragging your feet against the floor to embrace him.

“come on, it wasn’t that long—“ the moment you land in his arms, before you could savor the feeling, you suddenly feel a small little gap. or a small little animal in between you two. looking down, you see the small creatures you saw earlier around the express.

ah you almost forgot about those.

looking down, you see one of the little cats. one that resembles dan heng. it’s cute, but it was getting in the way of your hugging time. slowly, you try to remove the cat. your attempt? unsuccessful. the little creature kept hanging on to your partner’s black turtleneck. this time, you try a little bit more forcefully. still, to your dismay, the cat still clings itself onto dan heng.

at this point, you thought you saw dan heng nearly laughing. your stoic, distant lover, laughing at this stubborn cat that was getting in the way of your cuddling time. how could he? you absolutely deserved that hug and that creature was simply being bothersome.

one more time, you think. you’ll try one more time before you decide to just go for the hug and squish the animal flat. you begin to remove the cat, this time with dan heng’s help (though you start wonder why he didn’t help earlier). carefully, the two of you slowly remove the cat, placing the little creature on the carpet floor. having removed the hindrance, you go for another hug.

then you feel the same gap. lo and behold it’s the same small cat.

…you should tell the others to clean up the cats later.

notes. little changes might happen to this since my proofreader died on me, but hopefully this is to your liking :D now onto the next request!

#( bzzz.writing )#・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#dan heng x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader

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jethrowest · 5 days

Text

let me see you stripped down to the bone…

- stripped by depeche mode

congratulations! you’ve been hired as homelander’s entire glam squad! what an opportunity! now let’s try real hard not to let the fumes get to you, okay?

pairing : homelander/afab reader

word count : 5.6k

warnings : homelander in and of himself, toxic workplace environment, something akin to stockholm syndrome, fingering, smut. 18+, mdni

special thanks to @blindmagdalena @sehtoast @homeb0ys and @clockworkzeppelin for letting me scream at you about this!

writing tag

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Homelander is an asshole.

That doesn’t bother you much. You’ve dealt with plenty in this field, which means you’ve learned how to make life easier for all parties. That particular learning curve includes when to stand out and blend in, at times concurrently depending on what variety of asshole they happen to be.

As a whole, the makeup artists and hairstylists at Vought take care of The Seven and go where they’re needed. And as a cosmetologist, you were hired to provide both services for Homelander and Homelander only, which you consider to be one of the most prestigious stamps one could add to their professional passport.

Before you became official, you were colorfully threatened by a Ms. Ashley Barrett, who, after the fact, had no qualms throwing you into the lion’s den to figure your own shit out.

In no uncertain terms were you told that if you fucked any part of this up, your sparkling resume would look best as something to sit her smooth, bare ass on while getting fucked on top of her desk. No lube or protection. It would then be tossed exactly like her salad.

Not an image you could have ever predicted crossing your mind. Honestly, you should have stopped her right there and walked your happy little ass out of her office toward pastures that might have not been greener (you were being handsomely compensated), but certainly not as toxic. While the red flags were a color you couldn’t quite ignore, you were also curious about why they stood out so much more than they did regarding previous employers.

None of this is to say you live under a rock. Anyone who has access to the internet is ambushed daily by these Supes’ personal lives. Homelander’s track record as far as choice in partners went hadn’t been ideal, so you understand that made him less popular at the time. That of course has nothing to do with you or your capabilities.

You opt to wear gray-colored glasses, seeing everything with a neutral blend of black and white. As much as possible anyway.

Nevertheless, curiosity killed the cat. But hopefully not your career.

The first day was awkward to say the least. Immediately, you knew you weren’t going to like your coworkers.

Glints of sympathy changed how they perceived you. A target, whether they intended for this to happen or not, was nailed to your forehead, and it made them buzz around you like avid, greedy wasps keen on seeing how rapidly the honeybee will be brutalized. You didn’t much care for going cross-eyed while staring at that target whenever you crossed paths. They didn’t know you, yet because of who you were working under, deemed you helpless. They didn’t give you a chance to establish yourself before branding you a victim.

Why should you respect them?

Small talk wasn’t entertained either, as their judgment tarnished any future encounters. They ostracized you once you showed no interest in engaging with them. That didn’t disappoint you. You weren’t here to make friends.

You do wonder how those before you fared: if they were jaded when they arrived or if they couldn’t help but succumb to the pressures of being at the top rung of a very unstable albeit sought after ladder.

Ms. Barrett quickly introduced you to Homelander, her parting gift before leaving the two of you alone.

You weren’t completely nervous in his presence. He wasn’t any different to you than the other celebrities you’d worked on, except he could rip you in half like a piece of paper if he was so inclined. But he’s the hero of this country’s story, so really, you should have nothing to worry about.

His demeanor, you noted, suggested arrogance, annoyance, and boredom. All things you’re used to. So you offered your hand to shake, which he eyed with a slightly upturned nose before grabbing, told him it was a pleasure to meet him and got straight to business.

Looking back, he was clearly expecting more out of you. Maybe not a display as excessive as getting on your knees and professing your undying love, but close enough. Somewhere in the middle, perhaps.

Part of you believes he might have also counted on fear. To you, he’s not anything or anyone unknown. Another big name in a fancy suit with impossible demands.

You were given a routine to follow and products to use. You did as you were instructed and found the process to be simple and, as Homelander’s expression revealed, uninspiring.

While you were utilizing a face brush to apply powder, he must have decided he was done enduring your lack of enthusiasm, because he suddenly asked, “What are you wearing?”

You stopped for a split second, no longer than, and continued. “The name of my clothing designer, you mean?”

He scoffed, waving his gloved hand at you, almost knocking the applicator you held to the ground. “No, your perfume. What are the top notes?”

You laughed and that seemed to confuse him. “Why, you want a bottle?”

“I don’t like it.” He sniffed sharply and cleared his throat. “Smells like you should be on the corner selling your used body parts.”

Ding ding ding. Alarm bells and red flags galore. You enjoy a challenge, however, and are a bit of a masochist, so you persevere.

“Well, what doesn’t smell like a cheap hooker to you? I’ll start wearing that instead.”

He cocked a brow, studying you. Trying to figure out if you were being serious or mocking him.

“It’s your first day.” A warning. “Are you on your best behavior, or can you do better?” He leaned forward in his chair, forcing you backward. “You should be working harder to prove yourself. Prove your worth.” He sat back again and shrugged. “Or maybe you really are worth as much as that dumpster juice you doused yourself in.”

At this point, he more than likely envisioned your happy little ass getting offended and storming out of the room. Breaking down, sobbing. Questioning why he was being so rude. One of those or, better yet, a nifty combination.

You’ve heard worse, unfortunately for him. Not always directed at you, but that doesn’t matter. You can handle it.

“You’re absolutely right,” you stated calmly, folding your arms across your chest. He looked at you with pretentious, petulant intrigue. “It is my first day, and I want to make a good impression. Which is why I’m asking you what you would like me to wear so I can continue to keep that good impression intact and, as our professional relationship develops, stay on top of it.”

Homelander’s mouth twitched. He sighed deeply and slouched in his seat, staring at the wall to the left of him. Then he deigned to cast his gaze back at you, resting his cheek on his index and middle finger. He tapped the arm rest with his other hand.

“Ugh, fine. Whatever.” A pause followed that lasted longer than necessary. Were you meant to guess? “Just wear something, I dunno, less. If you would have done your homework like a good little peon, you’d know I have super senses. Highly developed. Can you even imagine what that entails?”

Finally, he freed the canvas you were nearly finished with, and you flicked the soft bristles across the bridge of his nose. You smiled, more to yourself than him.

Felt rather on the nose, as the saying goes.

He didn’t comment on your grin. You didn’t give him time to. But he did huff like you were being obtuse on purpose.

“I can try. And my imagination is giving me some less-than-ideal scenarios,” you replied. Another pause. At least he was letting you do your job again.

You don’t know what compelled you to keep going, but something about his lack of a real answer made you carry on. “Do you have a favorite flower or baked good? Maybe a spice?”

Homelander almost glared up at you. You say almost because, for whatever reason, it didn’t seem like he was directing that harshness at you, though former words and actions proved otherwise. Something inside, perhaps. Or outside of this enclosed space.

“I already told you what to wear. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

You took the hint and remained quiet the rest of your session. Soon, you were done.

As you were packing and tidying up your station, he took it upon himself to stand behind you. He lingered over your shoulder, watching the scene play out like he was director and star and you were barely an ant on the sidewalk he acknowledged before squashing.

The heat radiating off of him was impossible to dismiss, a wall of it barricading your backside. He clasped his fingers underneath his cape and inched closer. You thought he was as close to you as he could get without touching you. He was that warm.

When you glanced up, he was staring at you through the mirror. As absurd as it was, you managed to get chills. Goosebumps broke the surface of your skin.

“Fresh chocolate chip cookies. Straight out of the oven. Like mom used to make.” He flashed an unnerving smile before turning to exit.

From there on out, even after you bent to his will and found a gourmand scent that matched what he described, Homelander tested you. Your work ethic, clothing choice, eating habits, and most of all, patience.

Your parents would ask how you were liking your job, how it was working alongside the Supes- not to mention the most famous of all- and you’d lie through your teeth. You felt you had no choice, Ashley’s threat ringing in your ears.

Resume, bare ass, tossed salad...

Oh yeah, it’s going great! They’re all super flexible. I couldn’t be happier!

At least that pun made you feel a little better about hiding the shame of what you’ve allowed yourself to take on.

This was all in the first few weeks. It started to get a little easier after that, which is surprising considering more was added to your to-do list.

You should have moved on before starting. But, for whatever asinine reason, you didn’t.

Every time you go back to your apartment and assess your appearance in the bathroom mirror, you wonder who’s making who up here. He’s changing your looks more than you are his. You’re like his human doll.

You’ve put up with a lot over the years, but this takes the cake and shoves it in your face. As fucked as it is, the flavor is growing on you. Like a fungus. Growing, nonetheless.

You can’t stop thinking about him.

It’s innocent enough, you try convincing yourself. Making sure you have the right outfit laid out the night before, the right lunch (no onions or fish or anything “freaky”!), etc. He is your superior, after all. You shouldn’t be viewing him in any other light.

He’s the most frustrating aspect of your existence these days, but he’s also the one you’re around the most. His penchant for workplace gossip and how unintentionally funny he is tends to make him palatable, which has regrettably become an understatement.

Months go by. You’ve witnessed how alone he truly is. How he has nothing outside of performing his tricks on Vought’s all-encompassing stage. And when he begins asking for your input, starts doing things for you that are so blatant it’s perplexing, you find your stress and vexation melting into cumbersome fascination.

It’s embarrassing. You don’t have the courtesy of enough time to dwell on your feelings toward the situation either, from beginning to whatever end you might be met with. You suppose that could be beneficial in the long run.

It also hits you when you least expect it; when you really don’t want it to.

Your body doesn’t wait until you finally have a moment alone. It decides, while you’re helping Homelander with his skincare routine that he insisted upon because you know more than these vacuous corporate douche-bags, to heat up without warning and slither from your head to your heart until it grasps you unfairly between your legs.

You try not to step into momentary paralysis. You understand to what extent his powers reach. It’s not like he doesn’t go on and on about them. About himself.

Whatever he notices, it’s not right away. A palpable tension fills the air between the two of you eventually. But it takes a more significant amount of time than you would have anticipated to permeate the natural flow of things.

Fuck, you can’t even be safe inside here, where your thoughts, whatever they may be, are yours. You can’t even have yourself. He has every part of you, and you are willingly relinquishing that control.

Your evening, once you can have it, consists of combing over every decision you’ve made leading up to this strange, disorienting space you find yourself occupying. All it does is leave you exasperated in a much different way than before and with an unsettling observation (or hallucination):

Was that the tail end of the American flag outside your window?

You are unacceptably late.

Rushing around, you throw on the first top and bottoms you see from your closet and spritz some perfume on your neck and wrists. You don’t check your phone. You’re afraid of what will pop up on your screen. And, frankly, you don’t have the time.

Your only option for transportation is the subway, as you’re sure the special vehicle from Vought is long gone. Why would they wait for someone like you, even if you’re practically Homelander’s personal assistant? One of his only friends. You doubt he has more than Black Noir, and that isn’t as perfect as it appears to the casual viewer.

You dread what kind of explosion you’re without a doubt walking into once you show your miserable ass up. You’re going to smell like everyone on this train. He’s going to go ballistic.

The question remains: why are you continuing to put yourself through this? It’s not your circus, yet somehow, the monkeys have become your liability.

You know, deep down, what keeps you going back. It’s simply too ridiculous to admit aloud.

Making your way past security, hurriedly presenting your badge, you realize you forgot to brush your teeth, or at the very least, gargle some mouthwash. You thank your lucky stars when you open your purse to a pack of gum tucked away in one of the compartments.

It will have to do.

When you open the door to Homelander’s dressing room, you see a couple of employees standing near the counter where the bag of supplies has been opened and rifled through, looking like they might soil themselves, a frantic Ashley, and an extremely pissed off Homelander in the middle of it all.

Reflexively, you cringe. You attempt to wipe any trace from your features, but it’s too late. Ashley is glaring daggers at you and Homelander can hardly bring himself to look in your direction. The others don’t matter to you. They never did.

“I’m so sorry I’m late. I know there’s no excuse-”

“You’re goddamned right, there’s no excuse! I don’t give a shit if god and his whole fucking choir of angels came down from heaven and divinely called you to give them a makeover! What were you thinking?!”

You’re about to answer, though you comprehend her query is more or less rhetorical. She interrupts your slightly open mouth while gesturing wildly, proving your point.

“Oh, that’s right! You weren’t thinking at all, were you?! But I do believe you’ve thought long and hard about what’s at stake here. And you know damn well we at Vought don’t tolerate this kind of sloppy behavior. Not to mention the way you’re dressed! It’s adding insult to injury!” Her hand swipes at the air, the length of your outfit, and you glance down, recognizing how comically mismatched you are. Her correct observation affects you more than it would have months prior, stinging your ego- one of the many things that’s been shelved in order to accommodate the person who won’t even grace you with a glance.

A dramatic groan cuts short any further commentary from the redhead, perpetually stretched thin between her absurd duties.

“Jesus Christ, Ashley, why are your big fucking horse gums still flapping?” Homelander’s booming voice slices through your mind like a jarring, dense migraine. He pinches his brow between middle finger and thumb, eyes closed. “I want you and Tweedledee and Tweedledum t’get the fuck out. Now.”

Ashley is plainly dumbfounded, struggling to see where she went wrong (a pattern when it comes to dealing with the volatile leader of The Seven), mouth agape. She shakes her head. “But sir, are you-?”

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about or doing. Clearly.”

Ms. Barrett turns a shade paler, staring at Homelander and blinking owlishly before snapping herself out of her stupor. She hurries her lackeys out of the room, shooing them along like a pair of misbehaving toddlers. She doesn’t give a final look, no further warning. She merely shuts the door behind her.

You also hear it lock.

What the hell does she think is going to happen?

You should have stopped this while you had the chance. You should have never taken this job. You should have stood up for yourself and walked out. You should have you should have you should-

“Who the fuck do you think you are?”

His caustic tone sends shivers down your spine. It’s unlike anything you’ve heard come out of him. And you’ve heard enough.

Again, you open your mouth. It fills with blood, thick and metallic and more potent than the mint from your gum. You’re silenced by it.

He stalks toward you and grabs you hastily by the shoulders, swiveling you around so you’re face-to-face with the choices you’ve made. Your mirrored image is reflected back at you, exhausted and searching for any last shred of who you might be beneath his heavy palms.

“Look at yourself! Do you even recognize who’s staring back at you?” No.

“What kind of game are you playing, hmmm? Is this… humiliating spectacle you’re putting on for the money? Your pathetic career? Like it’s goddamned rocket science to pick up a can of hairspray and use it. Monkeys have hands.” He makes a noise that’s akin to a snorting horse, exhaling forcefully past his nostrils. “I mean, did you really think you could pull a fast one on me?” He clutches your jaw, squeezing it between middle and thumb. Every muscle in your body tenses, your heart picking up rhythm.

“Spit that fucking gum out. Don’t think I can’t hear you grinding it between your molars like a dumb animal. You aren’t a mama bird, are you? Y’don’t have cute little baby birds t’force-feed your regurgitated leftovers, do you? Eugh, gross.”

You take a deep breath and exhale through your nose. It presents you with a false sense of security. You do as you’re told, and it lands on the floor in front of your shoe, saliva dangling on a thread as withered as your sanity.

Suddenly fresh breath seems like the most insignificant issue, when Homelander himself once made it out to be something earth-shattering.

You’re such a fool.

He leans in and sniffs your throat. Your fingers lengthen and bend.

You’re so many things at once. Confused, angry, nervous, scared. And, to your dismay, warm. God you’re so fucking warm. He’s heating you up from the inside out. You clench your jaw, still held in place by a firm bind.

“Get rid of those ugly clothes. I don’t care what you have to do. I can’t stand the sight or smell of them.”

You shut your eyes. When you open them, all you see is red. The other emotions are smothered in favor of that brand of heat. What happens next is a blur. You temporarily leave yourself.

“Fine. Have it your way, Homelander. You always do.”

Breaking free of his fluctuating hold, you start tearing at what you’re wearing, tossing everything- including your bra and underwear- to the ground. Your shirt winds up with the gum sticking to its loose fabric. You even take your shoes and socks off, not paying any heed to where your belongings go. Just that they’re gone.

You don’t process the glaring fact that you made yourself naked in front of your boss. In front of the most powerful man this country, and possibly world, has known. You don’t care that things have escalated this far. That they shouldn’t have. They shouldn’t have. But guess what? They did. And these are the consequences you both have to deal with.

“You wanna know what game I’m playing?” You turn around, forcing him backward. “It’s funny, I thought you’d be able to answer that for me, considering all the hoops I’ve had to jump through to not only save my ass, but make sure you had someone to talk to at the end of the day! Who on your team can you say goes above and beyond like that for you?!” He blinks at you now, eyes wide. Features fall to the floor where your clothes reside. You have his full and undivided attention.

An impressively dangerous thing to have.

“What more do you want from me, Homelander? I practically live with you without any of the benefits that usually includes! You’re really going to stand here and berate me like I haven’t given you fucking everything you’ve ever asked me for? Because I made one mistake? I gave up my entire world, which I know doesn’t mean shit to you. But it does to me.”

You fold your arms over your chest. Nothing covers it. You have to know before you lose all dignity. So you ask once more, hoping it won’t get lost in this bizarre mess.

“What do you want from me?”

Nothing. He can’t stop staring at you. You aren’t aware enough to be ashamed, but you are aware enough to be upset.

His infuriating silence compels you to bend down and gather what was a barrier between the two of you. You are no longer needed if he can’t do what he does best, which is spout off, leaking bottled words everywhere like a broken faucet. It’s a pretty simple question, you think.

That’s when the glass behind you shatters.

You flinch, pause what you’re doing and slowly stand. Cautious in whatever your next approach will be.

Surveying the aftermath, you’re relieved to find that you’re far enough away from the mirror so no injuries were inflicted.

When you finally lock eyes with the source, you see red. The atmosphere surrounding you heaves like the distended belly of a rotting corpse; hisses like an overflowing tea kettle; pierces you like lightning.

Homelander’s expression is rigid. His jaw quivers. Irises are a bright, shining scarlet. If you try anything rash, you might be next. But, having been around him for so long, you’re more inclined to believe he’s having trouble processing his own emotions. And that might have been one of the only ways to release them.

You drop the top and pants you managed to reclaim. Your brain hasn’t fully recovered from the constant devastating hit it’s taken, so you don’t want to put a name to what’s pushing you forward. You don’t stop until you’re directly in his line of vision.

Swallowing, you carefully extend your hand. The ruby color begins to crumble and give way to the vast ocean you might have drowned in one too many times. You lost track, blocking what you could out. Too real and intimate to accept for a realm that thrives off of inauthenticity and misfortune.

Homelander inhales harshly and you retreat, pupils hooking themselves to his. Searching for any sign you shouldn’t be right where you are.

Of course there are several; unfortunately, you are currently blind to them. Blind to everything but him.

That’s how it’s been for awhile, hasn’t it?

He has a habit of not granting you the luxury of time.

Quickly, he snatches your wrist and brings your palm flat against his cheek. He exhales, eyelids fluttering, nuzzling into you.

It’s so simple, yet it disarms you in ways you aren’t accustomed to.

Homelander basks in this chaste display of affection, and so do you, in awe of how enraptured he appears. Soaking you inside of his pores.

In turn, your cognizance reappears. You nearly topple over, realization infiltrating every part of you.

You’re not wearing a stitch.

A knock at the door startles you both. You glance over in that general direction and hear from the other side, “You’re on in fifteen, Homelander, sir!”

Gazing back up at him, you witness that same fire expand at a rapid rate. You use your other hand to bring him back down to reality, to ground him. It rests against his chest, delving into and cracking his ribs, flaying him open.

What strikes you is how vigorously his heart is beating. How you can feel it through his uniform.

This is how much you affect him. (Can you fathom that you’re only privy to a fraction?) Having evidence of the tiniest reciprocation drains you of any unwanted discomfort.

His fury subsides. You breathe out. He does, too.

“Go sit in your chair. I came here to do my job, after all.” The tenderness with which you speak seems to ease him further, his shoulders deflating with each word.

That aside, you’re playing with a lit match. You’re unsure who’s going to set who ablaze, but you’re willing to go down with this entire building to find out.

He does as he’s told, watching you the whole way like a mutilated mixture of a snarling cornered animal and a man fervently in love. He almost trips into his seat, not an ounce of grace in his gait.

Sacrificing his entire image just to get a glimpse of you.

Whipping his cape to the side, he sinks into the cushion. You get things ready as you typically do, your movements a bit jittery from the adrenaline sending haphazard jolts to your limbs. Despite this, you’re focused. You are more focused than you remember ever being.

You work efficiently, keeping in mind the limit that’s been put on your time.

Homelander bores holes through you. He doesn’t need lasers for that. You’re exposed and vulnerable and he pries what he fostered apart until it’s distinguishable by no one else but him.

You relearn his perfectly manufactured features. Different lights shape shadows you either haven’t seen before or feigned ignorance of. You commit to memory how he looks, smells, feels, the side of your hand grazing his cheek and hanging on.

He’s invigorating, your excitement building to a crescendo you can’t neglect. The heat in your core disperses, most of it congregating low in your belly and behind your expanding rib cage. His pupils drink you in, urgently and violently.

Your arousal is heady. He licks his lips. A hint of a whine caresses your ears and it makes you dizzy.

How could you have ever denied yourself?

You decide to take further control, testing the waters to a greater extent.

It’s your turn to watch him the whole way down. You straddle him, easing yourself atop his taut thighs.

After a few moments of humoring yourself, of pretending to concentrate on your work, dusting his nose with powder, you straighten. Eye contact has not been severed.

You motion toward his hands, balled into tense, repressed fists at his sides.

“Take off your gloves.”

Initially, it feels like maybe you said the wrong thing, or said it the wrong way. He doesn’t budge. You’re patient, however, so you wait like you’ve always done, the warmth from your cunt mingling with the hardness beneath you. Your mouth waters.

At last, Homelander nods and removes his gloves, tugging on the index of each. He places them on the armrests and transfixes himself to you once more.

“Do you want to touch me?” you ask, voice and body staying impossibly still in spite of your nerves.

Immediately, he shakes his head, “Yes,” the first time he’s spoken since your outburst, and without hesitation, reaches for your chest. You close your eyes, falling into his snooping lifts and tugs and squeezes, giving yourself permission to become possessed by the inhibited imaginations of how selfish, how rapacious his touches might be. How smooth his bare hands are, how ardent each digit is.

Leaning into you, he sucks one nipple into his mouth and palms the other, moaning and vibrating against your flesh. He digs his fingers into the pliant softness of your hip, steadying you with disciplined pressure. You squirm, attuned to every minuscule shift.

The lit match is tilted toward you now, swift and stunning. Your fingers release the brush you’ve been holding. It aligns with the slit of the cushion, forgotten and purposeless.

You wrap your digits around the hand on your curves and guide him toward your throbbing center. He doesn’t fight you. Doesn’t stop your movements. Doesn’t scold or challenge you. Instead, he curls his fingers in a way that makes you unabashedly moan, cupping your folds and pinning his thumb to your clit, adapting to your anatomy.

Your wants.

It seems like breaking away from you is a daunting task, but he does for a moment, brow furrowed, more engrossed and invested than you’ve ever witnessed.

“Fuck.” The curse sounds downright edible, your new favorite flavor. Your name tumbles from his lips like he’s been practicing, a sweet, rich icing on top. You gasp, his tongue adhering to you again, swirling around your peak before lightly biting it.

Rocking your hips back and forth, side-to-side, you grind hard into his palm. He strokes you like he’s studied what pace you prefer, how much friction you crave. You’re so wet, even you’re thrown off by it.

Once he’s finished with your chest, he’s back against the seat, unable to peel his gaze from you. Your full, swollen, glistening breasts.

His mouth hangs open, obscene, desperate whimpers slipping from it. Pupils are like whirlpools that drive you under. Drive you mad.

Homelander adeptly slips two, three digits inside your sopping cunt, unrelenting in his intentions to make up for lost time. The voracity of his actions propels you forward, balancing against his chest. He grasps and pulls at your other hip, groaning loudly in your ear, confirming his approval of how close you are to him.

It’s still not enough.

Pulling you even tighter to his blinding sun of a body, he encloses his free arm around you and desperately bucks his waist. “I want… I want… I want…” he chants. Your nails drag up his neck and along his scalp, overwhelmed by his warmth, his scent, him. Your lips ghost the sliver of skin above his collar, making him growl.

You anticipate and dread and yearn for what’s been building for so long. You clench and release, clench and release, clench and release, body chanting with him.

You’re intuitively thankful for the chair’s sturdiness; however, if it would have collapsed, you’re honestly not sure you would have noticed. Or cared.

You hear him come first. Feel the temperature rise temporarily. It’s so sudden and all-consuming that you naturally follow, his name an instinct you can’t help but divulge. You haven’t come down from the turbulent emotions rushing through you earlier, and that combination catapults you over the edge.

Your orgasm draws more deliberate, vehement grunts and sighs of satisfaction from him, as if your pleasure is inexplicably the same or worth more than his.

You can’t crumple into a boneless heap like you want to. You just can’t. You have to look at him. Look at his bliss; the glazed, barren-yet-so-full-of-you expression, of what these months of working in close quarters have done to him.

What you uncover is not what you were picturing. There’s a mixture of that haze with something almost apologetic below the teeming surface. Clouds of red to skies of blue. Destructive in and of themselves.

Sliding his fingers from your wetness, he wraps his lips around each one that was inside of you and spreads them apart. Your slick sticks to his glossy skin and stretches between digits, a generous amount. You whimper at the loss- the emptying, hollow feeling- and watch, mesmerized and delirious as he savors you.

Swallowing you whole, Homelander sweeps his knuckles across the apple of your cheek and presses his lips hard against yours. He wastes no time inhaling your gasps and moans, licking your mouth and the faint taste of mint, stealing it from you. You ingest what you can of him as well, exploring what was open to you longer than you realized.

He then seizes your wrists. It’s a rough gesture that evaporates into gentle circles along your pulse points. Still, you know you’re going to bruise where he turned the key and locked you into place: wherever he is.

A visible sheen coats his lips.

“I want you to tell me I’m good. Great. The best.”

His breathing is labored. So is yours.

He kisses the inside of the wrist smeared with perfume, your fluids, his saliva; ends with your hand and rests his cheek against the slope of it.

“I want you to be mine. All mine. Mine alone.”

You’re shaking. He moves forward and pets your hair, twirls it; grabs your nape and holds his thumb to the front of your throat. Securing you. Keeping you there.

“You have to stay. Be mine and stay.”

You thrum with an ache he forced upon you. He’ll claim you were starving and he was the only one who could satiate.

You nod. You were never going to leave to begin with.

Homelander made you his. And you thanked him for it.

#homelander #homelander x reader #the boys #antony starr #my writing #let me see you stripped down to the bone #oneshot #god it feels so good getting this out #i’ve been going through a painful writer’s block so 🥹#thank you everyone who helped and anyone who reads #this is my first full-fledged homelander fic so i’m a bit nervous but! very excited 🖤#love you all 🥰

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beautifulfuckup99 · 4 months

Text

"There are different kinds of soulmates. 12 to be exact." Ms. Whitehurst says while sat with MBG. "When we think of that term, we think so one dimensional. But no matter lover or friend or partner... We are all connected on a spiritual level. And therefore... We can all have a soul mate from the past that will find us one day, again."

First type of Soul Mate: The Soul Crossing Mate

“Soul Crossings: This phenomenon can happen with friends or lovers or colleagues, when for a short amount of time you are thrown together and share amazing experiences and awakenings in a past life before one of you is ripped away. They may find you in the next life. And hopefully… the outcome will be different.”

Warning(s): Curs!ng, SMUT, Ment!ons of Unal!ving, Angst (read at your own risk)

******************************************

“Fuck. Fuck.” Jungkook whispers as he barges into his bedroom while you stand by the window, looking out into the courtyard, your heart racing like it’s been all this morning.

“I told him. I told him, I told him I don't… That I don't want her. I told him that if he did this, what I would do. And he… He called my bluff. And I'm a fucking coward for it…” Jungkook whispers when the bedroom door is finally shut, and it makes you hum. You can only manage that noise. You can’t even bring yourself to look at him as he rambles on.

“My father will marry me off for an alliance with a woman I don't even love…” He whispers quietly to himself, and you shut your eyes, your hands gripping your raggedy maid apron.

“You should be lucky.” You finally say, still facing away from him. He looks at you in disbelief. “The princess is… She’s beautiful.” You whisper, your throat burning at that comment. You knew. You always knew that what you and the prince had was strictly for the shadows. You were foolish to think of a future with him as you laid tangled under his sheets.

“Don’t. Y/N. Don’t, because… She’s not you.” Jungkook whispers. “She's… She'll never be… You.” He states as you hold yourself.

“We knew this would never be okay.” You shake your head, finally turning to face him and it’s your greatest mistake, because you instantly feel tears threaten to escape your eyes.

“We? No. I always knew this was right. I… I don't… I don't want to marry that woman.” He says, venom in his voice and it makes you shiver.

“But for your father? For your kingdom? You have to. A good prince is not selfish. You are not selfish. Marrying her… it’ll bring guaranteed peace to both kingdoms.” You say. It hurt to say this, but you knew deep down, Jungkook cared for his people. And this was for the best.

“But I…” His voice cracks a bit as he moves closer to you. “I don't want to stop… No. I can’t stop loving you." He says stubbornly. You sigh tiredly.

“Prince-" He cuts you off from even thinking to refer to him like that.

“No. No. You know my name. You… You moaned it out so beautifully just this morning…” He whispers as he walks closer. You can only look down. “I… I don't want to do this…” He whispers. “I don't want to-" It’s your turn to cut him off now.

“But you have to. You have to. Please, my love. Please. For your people. You know it’s what’s best.” You shake your head. “This is… Something you need to do.” You try quietly.

“No. No.” He says, always one to fight. “I need you. I need you always. I…” He moves to you fully now, grabbing your arms.

“I need you to say you still love me. Even if I have to do my duty. Duty to this kingdom, to my father, I need to hear that you need me… Just as badly as I’ll always need you.” He whispers as he looks you straight in the eyes and tears fall freely now.

“I can’t love a man who has a duty to another woman.” You whisper as he grabs your upper arms a bit firmer.

“A duty to a woman that will be loveless. Know that my heart… That my everything will be yours.” He whispers as he looks into your eyes.

“Know that… One day… One day she might be queen. And one day she might bear me a son. But my heart. My soul. My being… will always belong to you.” He whispers as you stare at him with a longing gaze, but your heart ached in an indescribable way.

"Please Y/N. Know nothing will ever change that. I will never... Let anything or anyone... Hurt you." He whispers and you want to laugh bitterly. Because his loving gaze hurts just as much as this news. But you believe him. And that adds to the pain.

"They can never find out. No one must ever know." You point out quietly as you look at him. He takes you in as you are at this very moment, and he shuts his eyes.

"I wish I could runaway..." He finally whispers.

"The people need this. Your people need this union-" He cuts you off.

"And what about what I need?!" Jungkook snaps as he looks at you. You pause as you watch him closely, holding your breath at his outburst.

"We are on the brink of war. This marriage can solve everything..." You finally whisper, wanting him to think rationally. But for as long as you've known the prince, he's always been... A more emotional thinker.

"And this should be a good thing." You try quietly as he moves away from you and goes back to pacing the floor/

"But it's not. It not, it's not, it's..." Jungkook pauses for a moment as the tears finally slide down his cheeks. "Fuck..." He whispers as he lets the realization finally envelop him. He is not yours and he never was. And you were silly for ever trying to be his...

You move to hold him tightly in your arms and he scrunches down a bit to rest his head on your shoulder as his calloused hands grip the thin fabric of your maid uniform.

He chokes back an angry sob as he grips your waist tighter, eyes shutting in a calmness that he only gets when around you. "When you hold me in your arms... I feel like I can take on the world..." He whispers between sniffles. He nuzzles more into the cork of your neck.

"I love you..." He breathes out shakily and you shut your eyes to stay in this moment for as long as you can. You'd fight the angels above to stop time at this very second if you could.

He breathes in once more to regain some strength. "I will always... Love you. And I will never... Ever... Leave you." He whispers against your skin and the shivers are very noticeable...

"Say it." He whispers against your neck, and you can't push him away as he holds you tighter against him. "Please. Say it back..." He whispers. Your eyes squeeze shut as you fight against your own mind.

"I will always love you, my prince. And... I will never leave you." You whisper finally, your chest tightening because you meant every word. But the idea of him wrapped in another woman's wedding ring... It haunted you already.

"Thank you. Thank you..." Jungkook breathes out, pulling back only to catch your lips in a passionate entanglement. You kiss back feverishly.

"I need you." He breathes against your lips, and you whimper softly at the statement. He pulls away fully from your lips. "I need you now." He whispers as he grips the edge of your dress.

"Take this off." He demands, always an impatient one. It makes you blush as you hurriedly untie your apron while he helps to unzip the back of your dress.

As he disrobes you, you hurriedly unbutton his black vest and go for the shirt under it. "Just rip it. Rip it off..." He encourages hotly against your neck. You do just that and the shirt slides down his toned arms before he grabs you up and carries you to bed.

Dropping you on to the cold satin sheets, you're quick to remove his belt and yank down his pants. Today had shown you both one major thing. You had no more spare time to waste. You only had now. Now to be selfish, now to be lustful. Now to sin and break the king's ruling.

No royal shall ever sleep with a commoner.

Without a second thought, your hand wraps around his thick member, stroking it slowly as he gasps in pure pleasure. "Just like that. Look at me. Look into my eyes." He pants lustfully and you look up at him with eyes full of adoration. There was no hiding this love...

"I've said it before. And I'll say it again. You are mine. Now until forever." He shivers against your lips as you slide your hand up his cock, feeling it harden in your grasp.

"I love you. I love you..." He moans and kisses you lovingly as you lay back on the bed with him on top of you, his cock in your hand, getting solid with every stroke of your soft hand around it.

"No more." He finally pants as his hips jerk against your hand.

"My prince, I-" He cuts you off.

"Let me service you, my love. Let me worship... The only body I will ever need in my life." He breathes out before kissing along your neck and towards your breasts.

You loosen your hand from around his cock as you gasp softly. His kisses never failed to leave a trail of fire in their wake. "Don't hold back. Let your moans be heard. Let everyone know... Who I truly honor." He whispers against your left nipple before his lips wrap around the nub, making you moan more, back aching.

"Let them hear." He whispers against your nipple. "Let them warn the princess." He moves to suck on your right nipple for a moment as your head rolls back into his bed that you've made your home for the past year. "That I love someone else. That she will never compare... She will never get this from me. Because I am yours..." He whispers and moves further down your body.

"My prince..." You breathe out in contentment. The sensation of floating is not lost on you.

Without another word, he gets to work devouring you in a desperate way. His tongue flicks your clit with determination to make you melt and he's fast to slurp up the juices that collect.

"Oh my... Jungkook!" You moan, hand gripping his mess of curls.

"Louder. Louder..." He mumbles against your clit and the vibrations only add to your pleasure. "Say how much... You... Like it..." He mumbles against your wet slot.

"I love it! Oh my... Gods above. Yes!" You cry out, unable to contain your volume at this moment. Your thighs clench as you feel yourself teetering at the edge of bliss...

"Mm... You're going to cum, aren't you. Cum. My good girl. Cum for me... Let them hear..." He mutters against your clit before sucking harder, making your entire body tremble as you grip his hair in both hands now. You feel your mind going quiet as you focus on the feeling of now. And now, right now, you had your gorgeous lover between your legs, begging for your cum in the mix of his heavy breathing and hard grip on your hips to keep you in place.

"You will... Always be my... Good girl..." He mumbles as he gets you over the edge. You scream out, unable to hold back at this moment. You cum all over his mouth and he hungrily sucks it up. You whimper as you try pushing at his head.

"Sensitive?" He teases against your thigh before licking the juices that had leaked along your inner thigh. Your eyes shut in pleasure.

"Jungkook..." You whisper as reality creeps back in. You'd just been loud. What if someone heard?

"Hey. No. no, no. None of that." He whispers back. He could always read your mind. "Just move your head. No talking. No thinking. Do you want me?" He whispers as he rests his chin on your stomach gently. You sigh shakily and shut your eyes before you give in. You nod slowly and he leans up to kiss you deeply. You can taste yourself on his tongue as it dances with yours.

"I love your sounds..." He mumbles against your mouth as it hangs open while you pant in a heated need for more. He gets fully on top of you and you feel how hard he is as it nuzzles against your wet folds.

"Say you want me. Say you love me, Y/N." He breathes out as he holds your face, looking into your eyes. You look up at him. It's just you two in this moment. Your mind pictures a perfect world where this wouldn't end in heartache. Where you'd be his for a moment outside of the bedroom. But she will get that. She will get a husband, a king, a father to her child. And you... You will get this moment.

"I love you. I want you. My prince..." You give in quietly.

With no other words, his hand goes around your throat comfortingly before he sinks into you slowly to make it last. You whine quietly and your head rolls back as he claims you. His body could always tower over yours and his strong hand around your neck could only compare to the other hand he placed on your hip to hold you in place fully. He grunts as he thrusts deeper into you, and you've never felt fuller than you do in this moment...

"You're my queen. My queen..." He breathes out roughly as he takes you with a full sense of desire that leaves you thoughtless and moral-less.

"Jungkook!" You cry out as your hands grip his shoulders desperately to hang on to something.

"Beautiful. Yes. Don't hold back. Let them hear. Let the heavens know. This is what a true angel sounds like..." He grunts in your ear as he hits your spot hard to make you moan out more. He controlled your body more than you ever could...

"Fuck. The way your pussy just... Grips on me." He groans as he pumps his hips faster. Your legs hook around his hips as your nails dig into his perfect skin, hoping to mark him for eternity.

"You're perfect. Mine. All mine. And I'm yours." He pants against your lips and you nod fast.

"Mine. Mine." Is all you can say back as your eyes roll shut.

"My queen. She won't get this. She will never get to have this because I am yours only yours..." He whispers before kissing along your cheek and down to your neck. You enjoy the pleasure. The sense of feeling full of him, the sounds of passion he makes, the way his body found a way to always fully engulf yours.

"I love you..." You cry out as you drag your nails down his bare back. This was reminding you of exactly why you fell i love in the first place.

"I... I'm going to... Cum!" You moan loudly as you wrap your legs fully around his hips. He couldn't go. You couldn't let him go...

"Cum. Cum for me. My queen..." Jungkook pants as it hits you hard all at once. In the next moment, you're feeling full of his hot seed as you both come down from your highs slowly. Like a feather floating through the air.

Your eyes stay shut as you focus on his lips all over your face. "I know. I know this is a lot. But I will not share a room with her. I will not... I will not be... A husband to her." He whispers as you come back to the truth. You are a servant. Not his wife. Not his queen.

"Y/N. Are you listening?" He whispers as he lifts your chin. You finally open your eyes and meet his warm gaze. "She may have my hand in the public eye. But you have my heart. And I will rest by your side every night. Until my last breath..." He whispers and you can only bring yourself to nod. But your teeth are digging into your tongue.

He kisses your forehead tenderly and pulls out of you slowly to hold you in his arms as you truly think about the life you will live after today. No other words are spoken as you rest in his arms before a stone is set on your chest.

You know what must be done...

**********************************

With hectic footsteps and heavy breathing, Jungkook runs down the stone steps to the dungeon, tears threatening to fall the second he sees his true love behind the iron bars. "What is the meaning of this?! I want her released! Immediately!" He orders, voice booming through the cold, dark, and moist basement.

"I'm sorry, Prince. Orders from the king. She is to be held here until her hanging. Which is tomorrow at dawn." The guard says, head bowed.

"And what the hell is her crime?!" Jungkook says as you walk closer to the iron bars of your cell.

"Seducing Royalty, sir." The guard says softly. "We have her confession." He continues. Jungkook finally looks over at you and you see the confusion and hurt on his face. He walks closer to your cell and the guard avoids his eyes out of respect.

"What... Y/N, I... I don't understand." He whispers, a broken man at this point, more than he'd been earlier today.

"Jungkook..." You whisper as you reach out through the bars to hold his face. "I... I cannot love half of you." You whisper as his tears fall freely.

"So, my punishment is to lose all of you?!" He snaps in a rage that can only come from fear and pain. You shut your eyes, unable to witness the seed of despair you'd just planted into your lover's soul...

"Look at me." He whispers and you try to pull away, but he grabs your hands tighter to hold them against his face. "Why?" He chokes out through a sob.

You finally open your eyes to look at him. "We don't get this lifetime. I would've fought any god to keep this love with you. But they never paid mind to us." You whisper as you look him in the eyes.

"I'm not done with you." He whispers as he looks you deep in your eyes and you slowly slide your hands from his.

"I am not yours anymore..." You whisper back as you hold back your tears. Someone had to stay strong. He stares at you, unblinking. The hurt is clear as day on his face as he shakes his head at you slowly.

"I will never... Forgive you." He whispers quietly.

You shut your eyes at that, those words adding to your already heavy heart...

************PRESENT DAY**************

You open your eyes and blush a bit as you're met with your boyfriend of five months staring back at you. He smiles peacefully at you, and you playfully cover his face with your hand. "Morning to you too..." He laughs softly against your hand, and you smile as you sit up in bed tiredly.

"What time is it?" You mutter as you go to grab your phone from the nightstand.

"9am. But... It's Saturday. Day off. You know what that means..." He trails off playfully and you jokingly gasp.

"Do I actually get you to myself!?!" You jokingly question as you eye your idol boyfriend.

"Ha-ha. Yes. I am all yours today, my queen." He teases back and you pause at the nickname and hum a bit.

"I actually like the sound of that..." You whisper as you smile up at him while he plays with your messy bed head...

*************************************************

Hope ya'll liked it! Yoongi's past life will be released Next Saturday the 13th! Keep an eye out for that post! And have a good night!

#bts #bts fic #bts army #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook bts #bts fanfic #bts smut

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tofics · 4 months

Text

Out Of This World

Chapter 1

Masterlist

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x fem!Reader x Dean Winchester

Summary: You and the Mikaelsons are fighting a powerful witch that's trying to take over New Orleans. The only solution: banishment to another universe. However, the spell goes... wrong, and it's not the witch that ends up in another universe, but you. - At the same time, over a thousand miles away in a bunker in Lebanon, Kansas, an alarm goes off: a rift has opened up. The Winchesters and their angel partners in crime decide to investigate. What will they find when they get to New Orleans?

Word count: 4949 words

Warnings: cursing, violence, murder, mention of blood, allusions of panic attacks.

You skidded around the corner, barely missing a stack of cardboard boxes by an inch. You jumped around it, almost flying past the pile. Your blood was rushing in your ears, your heart almost jumping out of your chest, pumping the adrenaline through your body. Behind you, you heard the evil snicker of your persecutor, hard on your heels. Before you knew it, you reached a wall that cut off your path abruptly. A dead end. You were cornered.

Slowly, you turned around. There she was, a sneer cutting across her face. Despite the few feet between you, you could see the glint in her dark eyes. Again, the witch laughed triumphantly.

"Really? An evil laugh for an evil witch? How terribly cliché," you pressed out between two wheezes. There was a sharp stitch on your right side. Running had never been your thing anyway. You leaned down and rested your hands on your knees while trying to catch your breath. Once this is over, you really have to get into better shape, you told yourself.

The witch was still sneering at you, taking her sweet time to make a move on you. You could imagine that she was enjoying this thoroughly. What started as a challenge for power, trying to dethrone Niklaus and his siblings as rulers of the French Quarter, had resulted in a bloody, messy, magical war. For months, she had been threatening the Mikaelsons and everyone that stood by them. Where threats didn't work, death followed. Quite a few of the Mikaelson's closest followers and allies had lost their lives to the woman in front of you, and yet, you were sure to rank high on her win list: as Elijah's girlfriend, she'd probably enjoy your death a lot more than any of her previous kills. This particular death would strike them hard. Shake them to the core. Possibly - hopefully - destabilize them to a point where they'd fall apart from within and she could easily pluck them apart, one by one, until all of the siblings where gone.

"Not even a true Mikaelson, and yet you're just as snarky as the rest of them. What an obnoxious trait. So full of yourself, all of you. It's a disease. But, not to worry. I'll have that cured in no time," the witch quipped back at you, with so much sweetness in her voice that it made you gag.

"Who's full of herself now?" you muttered to yourself. The sorceress in front of you tsk-ed at you and got into casting stance. She reached into her cloak and brought a fistful of something to her mouth before blowing into her closed fist. Black dust spewed out from between her fingers and hung in the air in front of her like black glitter. You straightened at the sight of her palms turning towards you, the first few words of a spell that was sure to bring you death (and a painful one at that) slowly meandering out from between her lips like a snake, inching itself towards its victim relentlessly.

Okay, feel free to intervene any second now, you thought, trying not to glance around for the rescue that you knew was coming. This plan had been weeks in the making and you weren't about to foil it by giving anything away by accident. Soft dark clouds, looking like droplets of black ink in water were forming around you, slowly at first, then faster and faster. Your eyes began to water as the dark vapor drifted closer and started to engulf you. It stung in your nose, giving off a terrible sulfur stench. You tried your best not to inhale it, but soon you were completely enveloped in the black mist. The first breath burned a straight trail down into your lungs and set them on fire. You began to cough, grasping at your throat, slowly choking on the dark magic the witch was blanketing you with.

Your lungs felt like they were on fire, both from the growing lack of oxygen and the vapor that was eating itself into you. Your legs started to give out underneath you and you fell to your knees as you gasped for air.

Any... second... now... you thought, every word feeling heavy in your brain, as if every word weighed a ton. Just as your vision started to flicker and blur, you registered movement out of the corner of your eye. Something whisked past you from behind you at top speed. You heard an "oomph", followed by the sound of a body being smacked to the ground. Almost instantaneously, the black vapor that surrounded you fizzled away and fresh air finally streamed into your lungs.

You wheezed and sputtered, now on your hands and knees as snot dripped out of your mouth and mixed with your tears and spit on the ground. You were relieved to finally be breathing oxygen again, your lungs however still felt like they were on fire and your throat was about as dry as sand paper.

While you were catching your breath, a lot of action was happening in front of you. Klaus had tackled the witch to the ground and Elijah had shackled her, rendering her immobilized. He grabbed her by her collar and dragged her up against the left wall of the alley. Meanwhile, Freya came out from behind the boxes you had almost run into, hands up and feverishly mumbling, casting the incantation that was supposed to free you all of the witch's evil.

You felt a hand on your back first, and then you were lifted to your feet. Hayley was on your left and Jackson was to your right; both of them had an arm slipped through yours to hold you steady. They shot you concerned looks as you were still struggling for breath. You weakly smiled back as a gesture of I'm okay, don't worry about me.

Freya continued casting in front of you. Her voice grew louder and stronger with each word. Despite clearly being outnumbered, the evil sorceress laughed, seemingly amused by Freya's casting.

"Silence." Elijah's eyes were dark with fury as he ordered the witch to quiet, but her laugh just turned shrill before Klaus struck her across the face. Her laugh briefly sputtered as she sunk down, forced to her knees by the force of the blow. Blood dripped from her split lip and smeared across her teeth. It turned her sneer into a bloody grimace.

"You're making a grave mistake, Niklaus Mikaelson."

Now it was Niklaus' turn to laugh.

"I doubt it, Athea." He bend down on one knee in front of her. "On the contrary, actually. You know, I've got my fair share of enemies in this town. But even they have agreed that we must rid this beautiful city of this plague." Niklaus grabbed Athea by the jaw and locked it in place so she was eye to eye with him. "Now, since we cannot seem to kill you - a very annoying obstacle, I must say - we had to find a different way to get rid of you, didn't we."

Freya started to stumble, the weight of the casting taking its toll on her. Immediately, Elijah was by her side and put a hand on her shoulder. It steadied her in more than just one way. She was reaching the pinnacle of the incantation and needed her brothers' power to cast the final piece of it.

"Klaus? Less talking, more killing?!" Hayley called out from next to you. Klaus smiled in return and got back on his feet to join his brother at Freya's side.

"Right you are, little wolf. I so wish we could drag this out, but alas, time is of the essence. Farewell, Athea. You will not plague this world ever again." Klaus put his hand on Freya's open shoulder with a content smile on his face.

Freya started on the last few sentences of the spell. The air in the alley started to flicker like heat over pavement on a hot day. The hair on the back of your neck started to stand up as you felt a buzzing sensation all around you, as if someone had charged the air with electricity.

Then, Freya spoke the final words. For a moment, everything in your vision seemed to sharpen. It was eerily quiet.

Then, a massive beam of light erupted from all around you, turning the world into nothing but a bright white.

Over a thousand miles away from New Orleans, in a bunker in Lebanon, Kansas, an alarm went off. The buzzing sound vibrated through the entire place, accompanied by the red flashes of warning lights.

"Oh, what now," Dean Winchester growled. He had just begun to sort through his equipment that he'd need for the next few hours: a whole day of working on the cars in the garage of the bunker. Throw in some beers and some rock music, and you had Dean's favorite kind of day off. They'd just come back from a hunt the day before and he had been looking forward to fixing what needed fixing and mending what needed mending. He went into auto-mode when working on a car; it took his mind off things and allowed him to relax.

Dean put the wrench down that he was holding and wiped his hands on the cloth stuck in his waistline. He sighed. "Can't get one damn day of peace around here," he mumbled to himself and left the garage to head to the war room.

When he arrived, he found his brother Sam and both the angels Castiel and Jack already gathered around the map table. As he approached it, he could make out a blinking light at the south of the United States.

"What is it?" Dean peered at the speckle of light blinking feverishly on the map. Sam answered him. "It's... a rift." He looked around at the men gathered the table before he scratched his neck. "I guess the update does work. This is the first one to pop up since we tweaked the settings. At least the first one to be registered."

"Where is it?" Jack, the younger of the angels chimed in. He leaned forward to get a better look at the map. "From what I can tell... New Orleans." Sam replied after checking a few parameters. There were a few seconds of silence between the men before Dean cleared his throat. "Alright." He rubbed a hand over his face as if trying to wipe the exhaustion away that was written all over it, but to no avail. He looked exhausted and worn down. "Guess we have no choice but to check it out. Cas, get your things, we're leaving in thirty. Sam, you stay here with Jack and keep an eye on the table, 'case few more of these turn up. We'll call you if we need back up." Sam nodded and sat down to check through the table's settings while Jack slowly sunk into the chair next to him. There was a hint of disappointment in the young angel's eyes, but he didn't disagree with Dean. He knew that the older Winchester didn't fully trust him and that he had to keep his head down to earn that trust back.

Castiel and Dean left the war room in direction of their respective rooms to gather their belongings for the trip. Once they were out of earshot, Castiel leaned over to Dean. "What do you think this means?" Dean shook his head in response. "I've got no idea, but it can't be good."

The explosion of light faded just as quickly as it had started. Your eyes took a moment to adjust. Black spots danced in your field of vision and there was a penetrating ringing sound in your ears. You moaned and held your head as you stumbled around while your body tried to recover. Slowly, the ringing faded away to a barely noticeable hum and your vision cleared up too.

Once you could clearly see, you stood up straight. Your brain took a moment to register what your subconscious had picked up on within nano-seconds: something was wrong. Where just a moment ago Elijah, Freya and Klaus had stood, there was no one. Hayley and Jackson were gone from your side as well. Even the witch wasn't there. Athea's disappearance was somewhat comforting - after all, that had been the goal all along - but your stomach churned at the sight of the empty spots where your family and friends should have been.

Did the spell transport all of them? you wondered while temporarily frozen in place. It was like your body had to catch up to what your brain was processing. A slow sensation of panic crept up your spine and filled your limbs with an unpleasant tingling sensation. This hadn't been part of the plan. They weren't all supposed to disappear. Just Athea. "Okay, breathe," you told yourself and forced yourself to follow your own order. You took a few deep breaths and unclenched the fists that your hands had formed into, stretching out your fingers a couple of times before you quickly shook your shoulders loose. You can figure this out.

For a lack of a better option, you head towards the entrance of the alley. Perhaps they got thrown back by the power of the spell, you mused. After all, you'd been further away from Athea and the siblings. That didn't explain Hayley and Jackson's disappearance, but you figured you had to start somewhere.

Your legs were still a bit wobbly, presumably from both the near-death experience of choking on magical vapor as well as being light-bombed. You took it slow, taking your time with each step until you were sure that you wouldn't keel over. The extra time it cost you to reach the entry of the alleyway gave you plenty opportunity to inspect your surroundings for any clues about where your people might have disappeared to. You looked around for any signs of foul play while the never-ending feeling that something, something just wasn't right nagged at you. Something was off.

That's when it hit you.

Your stomach lurched as you reached the entrance of the alley where you'd carried out your big plan and you realized what exactly was wrong. There had been spray paint on the wall behind where Klaus had tackled Athea to the floor. Nothing groundbreaking, just a tag someone had quickly sprayed on the bricks. Now, however, the wall was bare. It was still the same old brick wall, covered in specks of dirt here and there, but there was no spray paint on it. The stack of boxes that you'd almost knocked over was also missing. It should have been to your left, but it wasn't. In fact, there wasn't a single card-box in sight. The alleyway wasn't exactly 'clean', but it wasn't nearly as packed with litter and trash as it had been just a few moments ago.

"No... no, no, no, no." Your whisper grew more panicked with each syllable. The faint humming sound in your ears picked back up as your blood began to rush through your body again. Panic rose in your chest and tightened its grip until you felt like you couldn't breathe, oxygen be damned.

The spell had worked. They had successfully sent someone to an alternate universe, just like they had planned. It just wasn't Athea who'd been transported from one universe to another.

It was you.

Elijah experienced the finale of their plan take place on various levels. He heard Freya cast the last piece of the incantation. He felt it, too, the energy that flowed through his and his brothers arm into Freya, their conduct for the spell. Once his sister spoke the final words he felt a massive tug on his lifeforce, taking a piece so big that if he wasn't immortal, he was sure he wouldn't have survived it. They had known that the spell they had found was ancient, dark magic. The scripture had made vague points about how costly it was, but they had been sure that with his and Klaus' energy combined, they'd be able to supply Freya with all the mana that was required for the incantation to work. Still, the final piece of the cut into him with a kind of force that he'd never experienced before. It forced him to his knees and weakened his senses all at once.

Elijah didn't know if his vision blurred or if it was the air around him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Klaus go down as well. Almost the same second the energy was sucked out of him, he felt it in the air around him, charged and ready to explode at the slightest spark. He moaned, unable to move. His hand was stuck to his sister's shoulder through her magic. It felt like it had fused to Freya and they were now linked together for eternity, hand to shoulder and shoulder to hand. The energy around him grew denser and pressed on him, it trickled over his skin and left sizzling trails.

Elijah's muscles spasmed under the electric force and he groaned. A buzzing sound had built in the back of his head and was now stretching toward his frontal lobe, where it pressed against the bone of his skull from the inside. He thought his head might explode until suddenly, everything became very still, like the quiet before a storm. It lasted for about a nano-second until the energy that had condensed around him blew up and drenched the world in light until all he could see was white.

When he came to, Elijah was on the ground. Pieces of pebble were piercing through his skin where it had become exposed from his suit shifting. The buzzing sound had given away to a ringing in his ears and the growing pressure on his skull was gone. Instead it was replaced by a booming hammering sensation that sent rhythmic thrills of pain through his head. He groaned and shifted his weight so he could sit up. His eyes were still sensitive to the light and he had to partially shield them so that he could see anything, despite the light in the alley having returned to normal.

He first saw Freya. She was down on her hands and knees, shaking and panting. Next to her was Niklaus, who seemed to be recovering from the same ordeal as Elijah; the spell had knocked him out flat as well.

Elijah's gaze drifted forward. He felt the area under his eyes trickle as anger shot through him. There, hunched against the wall, lay Athea. She seemed to have been knocked back into the bricks by the force of the spell as blood was running down from the back of her head. Elijah smelled it, but it wasn't the reason for his vamp face to come to the surface. It was his anger, mixed with frustration. Clearly, the spell had worked. They'd paid the price for sure. He couldn't be killed, but he felt like he was just about as close to dying as he could be as an immortal.

So why was she still here? What had gone wrong?

He rose to his feet, fueled by anger, frustration and worry. Athea may temporarily be blacked out, but she would soon come to and he knew what she'd do then. He staggered over to the witch and grabbed her by the hair to pull her close. He was tempted to rip into her throat right then and there, to watch her lifeforce spill out of her and form a puddle beneath her useless body. But he knew it was no use. The Mikaelsons had learned soon enough that Athea had set herself up good and made sure that she couldn't be killed. Not for long, anyway. She always came back.

Elijah snarled and pushed her head back, appalled by the woman in front of him. She'd caused him and his family so much pain over the last few months and he wanted to see her pay for it. This spell had been their last hope. He had no idea what he was going to do now. How he was going to protect his family, or Hayley. How he was going to protect you.

"What... what happened?" Freya coughed behind him and crawled over to them.

"It didn't work! That's what happened!" Klaus shouted, his voice full of fury. His brother had always had a temper, but this time, Elijah felt it was justified.

"It did work, Klaus. You felt it. The spell worked. I don't understand why she's still here." Freya crawled closer to inspect Athea's unconscious body.

"Clearly, it bloody didn't! This was all for nothing!" Klaus' rage was boiling and he took it out on the wall in front of him. His fist left a cracked imprint on the bricks.

"Niklaus," Elijah warned. Niklaus' anger may have been justified, but there was no time for antics. They had to come up with a plan and they had to do it now.

"Elijah?" Hayley's voice was tinged with fear. He began to turn around to console her. "It's alright, Hayley, we'll find a w-" He abruptly stopped when he spotted the gap between Hayley and Jackson. Both of them were still standing as if they'd just been holding you up a second ago, each of them with a raised arm that had been looped through yours. Elijah got up and walked over to them as if in trance.

"Where's Y/N?" he asked. Neither Hayley nor Jackson answered him. They had no answer. Elijah rolled his sleeves up as if getting ready for battle. It was a subconscious move, a displacement activity. He felt the gnawing feeling of panic set in in his stomach.

"Hayley. Where's Y/N?" he repeated in a calm, quiet demeanor. His auto-pilot was taking over. Hayley looked at him and he saw the shock and fear in her eyes. "She... Elijah, she disappeared..." she whispered as tears welled in her eyes.

Elijah stumbled back as if her words had struck him in the face.

"No... no..." Freya was coming up behind him and stared at the spot between the two wolfs where you had been standing just a few moments ago. "But... that's impossible! It's not possible! The spell was customized to Athea, not Y/N!"

"Freya." Although Elijah said her name like a statement, the unspoken question hung in the air. His sister turned to look at him. Fear and confusion were battling for dominance on her face. "Elijah, I don't know what happened. It's not possible. None of the words I said even remotely referred to Y/N. I have no idea how..." She trailed off. Then laughter came from behind them.

"You fools! I told you you were making a grave mistake! Ha ha ha!" Athea cackled as they turned around to her. Blood was still running from her mouth and her face appeared sunken in, with dark circles forming under her eyes. She continued to laugh while she occasionally sputtered and coughed up more blood.

Klaus was the first to react. He whooshed over to her side and grabbed her by the scalp. "What did you do, you useless bitch?" he snarled at her, but Athea just kept on laughing.

"Did you really think I was going to walk into your trap like that?" Athea sneered at Klaus as a red line trickled from her mouth. Again she coughed and spat out more blood.

"No... how...?" Freya's eyes widened in shock as she registered the meaning behind Athea's words. She'd known all along what they had been up to and had somehow... what? Manipulated the spell? "A spell of this character can't be manipulated! She doesn't have the power! I needed you two to even try to pull it off and even then we weren't sure it was gonna work. There's no way she could have altered it on her own." Freya was thinking out loud while she paced around.

"Then how did she do it? Did she have help?" Jackson's rusty voice cut in. He looked around as if he anticipated a line of enemies to come out of hiding at any second and attack them.

"I don't think so. A circle to back her up would have needed to be massive and they'd have needed to be physically attached to her, like Klaus and Elijah touched me. No, she..." Again, Freya trailed off and hesitated for a moment, then she quickly walked over to Athea.

Their enemy witch looked worse by the second. Her skin had taken on a greyish tone and the circles under her eyes had turned a dark purple. Her face, however, still had a stoic, defiant expression all over it. Freya knelt in front of her and grabbed the sorceress by the shoulder. "How did you do it? How did you hijack the spell? That's the only way you could've done it!" she shouted and shook the woman in front of her. The commotion caused Athea to cough again and blood splattered across her chest. She gave Freya a crimson red smile. "Wouldn't you like to know, Freya Mikaelson."

Klaus wrapped a hand around Athea's throat and squeezed slightly. "Tell us what you did, or I'll rip your head off right here and now." His fingers pressed into her throat with more force now, visibly obstructing the witch's airflow. She gasped for air but still... smiled. "Don't waste your strength on me, Niklaus. My time has come anyway." She gasped and coughed again before she continued. "I knew what you had planned and I knew I didn't have enough power to stop the spell. I knew my time in this world was coming to an end, but I wasn't going to go without a fight." She wheezed and the air in her lungs rattled and blubbered. "What did you do!" Klaus shook her by the throat as his voice echoed through the alleyway.

"I hijacked the spell," Athea replied hoarsely and gave another of her bloody smiles. There was a sense of triumph in voice. "But how?" Freya implored. She had no idea how a spell of this character could be manipulated, let alone hijacked. Unless... Athea cackled. "A good witch never reveal's all her secrets. Isn't that what the mortals say?" Klaus tightened his grip on Athea's throat and pushed her up the wall. Her entire weight was now on Klaus' grip around her neck; her feet dangled a few inches above the ground. "There's nothing good about you, you old crone," he growled. "Enough chitchat. Tell us what you did, or I'll rip you apart limb by limb, no matter how many times it takes until you sing." The witch didn't reply. She gasped for air, but her hands didn't claw at Klaus' hand like any other person might've done. Below them, Freya knelt down and inspected the ground. She soon found what she was looking for and rubbed a pinch of the black powder between her fingers.

"Klaus." The hybrid didn't relent his grip on Athea's throat, so Freya started again. "Klaus, it's no use. She's dying anyway." "Whatever do you mean?" Elijah approached the three of them from behind. Hayley and Jackson followed on his heel. "Just what I said. She's dying." His sister held out her hand to him and showed him the black stains. "When I was still with Daliah, she once told me about the myth about the fruit of the tree of life. Supposedly you could use its dried remnants to redirect any spell or curse thrown at you with ease, but no one had found a fruit in centuries. It was presumed to have gone extinct." Freya gestured over to Athea as she continued. "I have no idea how she got one... but this is what she must have used to redirect the spell to Y/N."

"Okay, great, that's one question answered. But why is she dying? I thought she couldn't die?" Hayley defensively crossed her arms in front of her chest. "She can't, not in a traditional way. But this spell is so old and so powerful, it overwrites any other spell. It becomes the default setting. Any power that she invested into enchantments to secure her life must have been redirected into our incantation, to uphold her end of the bargain, so to say. She traded Y/N for herself. Even if she only hijacked the spell and didn't try to counter it, it must have cost massive amounts of mana." The Mikaelson witch paused and briefly looked down. "So much, in fact, that all of her previous enchantments weren't enough. So she's paying with her life."

"Aren't you a clever little witch. It's a pity Dahlia lost control over you. We could have benefited from a clever one like y-" Athea was abruptly cut off when Elijah zoomed over to her and ripped off her head. It fell to the ground with a soft thump and rolled a couple of times before coming to a halt a few feet away from its previous body.

"Freya," Elijah said as he got his handkerchief out and cleaned a few bloody stains from his hand. "Tell me you know how to bring Y/N back, now that you've discovered the reason for this... mishap." The threat in his voice wasn't meant for his sister. He'd stared at the bodiless head on the ground as he had spoken.

"That's just it, brother. I have no idea."

A/N: It's here! I'm so excited! 🥳 This was so much fun to write and I can't wait to get started on the next chapter. This one got kind of long, but I felt that that was necessary to set the whole story up properly. The next chapter(s) might not be as long 😅 Depending on how much time I can find in the next days it should be up by next week.

Continue reading here: Chapter 2

Feedback is greatly appreciated! Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist ☺️

Taglist:

@vicmc624 @foreverrandomwritings

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pinejayy · 11 months

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Yandere! Wally Darling x Reader Headcanons

@funnehsrobuxxx asked for Headcanons about Yandere Wally Darling reacting to his partner flirting with someone else and if they were to flirt back.

Wally Darling Masterlist

Wally couldn’t help but get jealous as he looked at you speaking to your friend Howdy. The way you giggled at his jokes, he just stared at Howdy and if looks could kill he would be dead.

But what really made Wally snap was when you told Howdy a flirty joke, he doesn’t care if you’re joking. “Oh Howdy, your eyes are the ocean. I could swim in them all day.” You would say jokingly. And Howdy would smile and tell you one as well. “You’re like a butterfly. So beautiful but hard to catch.” But he would actually mean it.

Wally always knew that Howdy had a crush on you, and he hated it. He wanted to make him go away but he couldn’t just make him disappear but he could lock you up.

As you and Howdy would be joking around he would stomp at your directions and give both of you a fake smile. And he would grab you by the arm and excuse you. And with that he would drag you away, and drag you into Home.

Once you were in Home, he would just throw you on the floor and he would blow up. Like how could you flirt with someone else! Especially if you’re taken, Wally doesn’t care if you were joking. Only he deserves that kind of attention from you.

Wally doesn’t care if you were crying. He was hurt...

And he would make sure to punish you. And no he isn’t going to get physical with you. But he would lock you up and prevent you from going outside. Hopefully you will learn your lesson.

Of course you would be upset with him. Like come on, you were just playing around with your friend. You honestly hated how he acted, he didn’t let you have freedom or talk to anyone because he’s the definition of Jealous.

But Wally would definitely always keep an eye on you, there’s no way out. And he’s always going to keep you company. He can talk to you for hours and if you ignore him he’ll get upset.

“Hey Y/N…I’m talking to you. Answer me!”

And if you still don’t answer him he’ll threaten to give Howdy a special visit. You would quickly answer and it still would make Wally upset. He hates the fact that you really care about Howdy.

Wally has thought about spraying Howdy with bug spray.

But after awhile, he would let you go outside. AND IF YOU DARE TELL HOWDY A OTHER PICK UP LINE HE WILL HURT HIM!

Wally is always going to be by your side now.

Like you guys could be walking around, holding hands and if Howdy were to walk past you guys or greet you. Wally would hug you tightly and hiss at Howdy.

*HISSES* BACK OFF THEY ARE MINE!”

Wally is a very jealous boy and if you dare flirt with someone else that’s not him, oh he’ll make you pay and the other person.

#wally darling #wally darling x reader #Wally darling headcanons #yandere wally darling x reader #wally darling x y/n #welcome home

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augustisonline · 14 days

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Too sad to dance - Lucifer Morning star x reader (angst+fluff)

First fic on here!!! I'm a little bit nervous about getting back into writing but, hopefully this is good 😭 this is like, very descriptive and plot heavy so if that's not your thing I'm sorry, but to those who do like that, please enjoy! This is long as fuck.

Summary: Reader struggles with depression and finds themselves at a bar trying to drink their thoughts away. Lucifer goes looking for them and tries to comfort them. (Great summary august)

Warnings: tw for harassment, alcohol, swearing, reader struggles with depression, slight angst, no sexual content but a few sexual comments, implications of suicide, could this be classed as hurt/comfort? Lucifer, gn reader, pre established relationship, minimal use of y/n, fluff. Not proof read.

🎀

Depression. Some people see it as an exaggeration of sadness, some people use it as a joke or some truly struggle with the mental hell that it can be. Today was one of those days. You had found yourself stuck in bed all day, still in your clothes from yesterday. You hadn't moved at all as you were in and out of sleep, trying to shut your mind up so you wouldn't have to think.

Nonetheless, it didn't work. Each time you woke up, it all came flooding back. The existential dread, the numbness and emptiness that your mind was feeling. Depression was your hell whilst living and in the afterlife. You couldn't escape it, even the one thing that you thought would finally free you of this hell, didn't actually end the suffering you had been going through.

So that's how you found yourself wound up at one of the more run down bars in hell, you just wanted to find somewhere where you could forget it all, even if that place was at the bottom of a bottle. You were sat at the bar, the stickiness of the wood beneath your arms really tied together the overall ickiness that this place was making you feel. Even the stool you were sat on felt disgusting.

The bartender made his way over to you, staring at you expectantly as he waited for you to order. "Just give me a glass of the strongest shit you've got." You spoke, your voice monotone as you slid a few bills you pulled from your pocket across the bar, not bothering to count them. A few minutes later the bartender placed the glass in front of you, his scrunched face staring down at you as you chugged the contents of the drink before he turned away to serve someone else.

You placed the glass down on the counter, absentmindedly staring at it, the ice was beginning to melt and although it wasn't very interesting, it kept your mind occupied. As you were deep in thought, your mind wondered to Lucifer. You were supposed to call him this morning. Shit. And you had walked out of the hotel without saying a word, what if you had worried him? You searched your pockets for your phone, only to find out you had forgotten it, a tired sigh escaped your lips as you placed your head in your hands, tears threatening to spill.

You couldn't keep putting him through this, shutting him and everyone else out when you were having a tough time. You felt awful. Lucifer had his own battle with depression and the pressure of being King. He didn't need to be running after you every so often when you disappeared in an attempt to feel better. A few silent tears had fallen from your eyes, you felt like the worst partner in all of Hell.

Caught up in your tears, you didn't notice the man who had sat next to you. Only the sound of him ordering a drink snapped you out of your trance. He looked towards you and smiled before speaking, "Rough day?". You laughed a bit, "When isn't it?" Lifting your head up and straightening your posture as you spoke to the man. He laughed at your words, sipping on his drink as he gave you a smirk.

"I don't think I've ever seen you before. You new around here?" He questioned, setting his drink down, still looking at you as he waited for you to reply. "No, I don't come here often, but I've been around for a few years." You replied, turning to the bartender and signalling for another drink, sliding him the cash as he poured it. The man hummed, staying silent for a moment as he took another swig of what appeared to be whiskey. "I recognise you, what's your name?" He enquired, and you looked at him rather suspiciously. You were surprised it took him this long to recognise you. A lot of guys wouldn't take this long to realise you were Lucifer's partner.

Dating the king of hell was amazing, but it did come with a lot of publicity. Even though Lucifer tried to stay out of the public eye, it did often result in your private dates being crashed by at least one nosey reporter. So, to say you weren't the talk of Hell for a while would be a lie.

"Y/n, but I'm sure you've not seen me before" You dismissed, not feeling up to discussing your relationship with the king to other sinners who would only be friendly to you knowing Lucifer was loaded. The man gasped, his smirk returning to his face as he realised, "Holy shit, you're Lucifers bitch! That's how I knew your face. Damn what you doin' here? He not satisfying ya?". A sigh escaped your lips. Of course the first question would be about his performance in bed. "I'm sorry, I didn't get your name. What was it again?" You asked, your tone turning cold as you began to feel disinterested in the man sat beside you.

"Jackson." He smiled before continuing. "I throw some bomb parties. You should come to one sometime." You internally groaned. Honestly, nothing sounded worse. Being in a room full of frat boys who are stuck like this for eternity? No thanks. "I'll pass on that, I gotta go, sorry." You dismissed, quickly getting up from your stool, holding onto the bar due to your slight drunken state. As you walked towards the exit, Jackson calls on you, quickly walking up to you when you exit the bar and enter the street outside.

"Could I at least get your number? Or walk you home, c'mon, I bet I could make you feel so much better than the short stuff you're banging." He smirked, snickering at his own words, and it internally made you cringe. "Again, I'll pass." You responded, walking past him as you began to walk home, either to the hotel or to Lucifer's. You weren't sure, but you were going somewhere. He grabbed your wrist, and you turned to look at him with annoyance in your eyes. "Look, you seem nice, but I have a boyfriend, I'm really not interested and I'd love to go home so, if you could get your hands off me, I'd appreciate that." You snapped, which caused Jacksons demeanour to change.

"Hey, I was being nice, no need to get pissy! Just, why don't you come with me?" He spoke, almost ordering you to go with him. His grip on your wrist got tighter, and you were sure it would bruise. "I said I'm not interested, now will you -" You spoke before being cut off by a familiar voice, which made you want to disappear then and there. "Excuse me, but they said they aren't interested, so please, leave them alone and go back to whatever hole you may have crawled out of." Lucifer's familiar voice spoke, talking to Jackson with a condescending tone to it.

Jackson's hand freed your wrist, and within seconds, you were watching him run down the street and out of sight. Lucifer turned to you, worry and panic in his gaze and voice. "Are you okay? I've been trying to find you for hours, I was worried, you aren't hurt, are you?" His hands came up to your face, like he was inspecting you for any sign of injury. "I'm fine." You spoke, your tone coming off harsher than you intended. "Sweetheart, you don't sound fine." Lucifer replied softly, the tiny height difference between you making him tilt his head up to meet your eyes.

"Lucifer, I'm fine, I promise. I can handle myself." You snapped, moving your gaze to the pavement you were stood on. "That's not the part I'm worried about, I know you can handle yourself, but I know what these people are like, they're awful, I just worry that they'll take advantage of you when you're vulnerable." His tone was still soft and full of worry, contrasting your harsh tone. Lucifer sighed when you stayed silent, reading you're body language and expression to understand how you felt.

"Look, I get that you might not have wanted me to come here, but honey, I worry about you so much and I care about you, i couldn't sit around knowing you were out of reach somewhere in this shit hole whilst having a breakdown." Lucifer added, continuing to look at your face even though you were still focused on the pavement, your eyes glassy as tears welled up in them. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't keep doing this, I-I thought I was getting better." You mumbled as you began to cry. You didn't even care that you were standing in a street anymore. You just wanted to go home.

Lucifer pulled you into his arms, a hand resting on the back of your head as you broke down, crying onto his shoulder. It took a moment before you had stopped, "Can we go home, please?" You croaked out, sniffling as you pulled your head away to look at Lucifer. "Of course." Lucifer smiled, and within seconds, Lucifer had teleported you both back to his Palace. You were now stood in his bedroom, the gold accents bringing out the main theme of red throughout the room.

"Would you like to talk about what's going on?" Lucifer softly asked, his hands resting on your shoulders. "There's nothing that you don't know to talk about, I just woke up and I wanted to disappear. I'm sorry I made you worry. I thought I was getting better..I just, don't want to keep making you this worried about me." You spoke, voice cracking as you began to tear up again. Lucifers hands cupping your face made you look at him, and he looked at you with a loving gaze that made you feel everything you felt today begin to disappear.

"I know, sweetheart, but please don't apologise for that. You've done nothing wrong, and you've not upset me. Sure, you had me pretty worried, but that's because I care, and I couldn't bear to lose you. You don't realise this, but you have truly, and single-handedly, brought a happiness back into my life that I didn't think I'd ever see again." He paused, giving you a chance to take in his words as he wiped a tear that had fallen onto your cheek.

"What I'm trying to say is you are the most beautiful being I've ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes upon in my immortal life, and I believe that you don't deserve to be down here, you're too sweet and kind and loving for your own good! You make so many people, including myself, smile every day, and I just want to see you smile like that for a change." Lucifer finished, keeping his eyes locked onto yours. You stared at him in awe, eyes widening as you listened to his words, such loving and sweet words that no one had ever spoken to you before.

Feeling lost for words would be an understatement. You were completely taken aback, and for a moment, as you looked into your lovers eyes, it all went quiet. The loving words he spoke were the only things running through your mind, and for the first time in a while, including your time alive and in hell, everything went quiet. "I love you." Those three words were the only words you could put together in response to his, and it was the first time you had said those words in a while. It was Lucifer's turn to be taken aback, as he had already told you he loved you. He was being patient with you and giving you the time you needed to return those words to him. There was no pressure or judgement with him.

"I love you too, my darling, more than I can put into words." Lucifer softly spoke, leaning up to place a gentle kiss to your forehead. You stayed like this for a moment, Lucifer held you close to him, he didn't want to lose you like that again. It was quiet for a moment before the sound of your favourite slow song had begun to play, and Lucifer gently swayed you to the gentle beat. One day you'd figure out how he could do that.

"Dance with me, please," He invited, his tone soft as he held you close. "I'm too sad to dance, Luci." You replied with a small laugh, yet you placed your arms over his shoulders, silently accepting his offer.

"No one is too sad to dance, sweetheart."

🎀

HOLY SHIT THAT TOOK ME A WHILE 😭

anyways, I hope its okay! I kinda get carried away with plot but I'm low-key debating making a part two (no I'm not)

Anyways this was NOT proof read and its 1:36am so, please leave me some constructive criticism.

Thanks bts for inspiring this whole thing 🫶

Word count:??????

Edit: it's been proof read never let me write past 1 am again. Also please say someone got the Jackson Wang joke cuz I'm giggling over my own mind honestly you wouldn't think I'm legally an adult.

#hazbin lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader #angst #fluff #hurt/comfort #can you tell i like to write how i feel?#thanks bts for being the soundtrack to this

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greywritesthings · 15 days

Text

Silence (1)

Spencer Reid x SelectiveMute!Morgan!Reader

warnings; panic attack, parental death, bullying, murder, arson, general cm violence described

A/N; This is the start of a hopefully 5 ish part series possibly more, any reblogs comments and likes are very much appreciated <33

( Kinda proofread but I'm exhausted when posting so corrections are welcome)

SR Masterlist

Masterlist

You - I’m coming up the elevator, your floor 6 right?

Der Bear - Yeah, I’ll be right outside them don’t worry.

You - KK Thnx :)

You close your phone and put it back in your pocket, bouncing on your heels as you wait for the unreasonably slow elevator to take you up six floors. You're both excited and nervous, it's your first day at the BAU, something you never thought you would be able to do with your anxiety disorder. You were adopted at the age of seven but you had known the Morgans as a whole before that, your mother was friends with Derek's mother so you spent a lot of time there as a child.

You were five when your parents died, you were being babysat by Derek while they were going on a date, you were to stay the night at the Morgans, go to kindergarten the next day and they would pick you up, but that night the house burnt down and they didn’t get out in time. The Morgans had adopted you as soon as they could, you had no other living family so they took you in, you were practically family to them already so it made sense to everyone.

As you grew up it was realised you were a lot smarter than the average child, you were able to test into a private school who gave you a scholarship through elementary and middle school, it gave you a good setup to go through to their partnered high school. You had an agreement that if you consisted with your performance that you would go through to the high school with a full ride scholarship then most likely go to some form of an ivy league but one day in middle school you were learning about arsonists who intend to kill in criminology, not a normal subject but it was offered so you took it, and you were taught about your house fire. The house fire you thought was due to faulty sockets, Derek and Fran had told you that at the time.

You were frozen, listening to the teacher talk about how your parents were a part of a string of murders where the houses were then burnt down to cover them up, they were not explicit on the details, you were all still in eighth grade, but it was enough to shake you. You got lucky in the fact it was the last period of the day so you could get out of there immediately after, you practically fell over your own feet trying to get out of the room, only half sure you remembered everything.

As soon as you had gotten off the grounds you ran home, you knew Derek was the only one there as your mom was working and your sisters had moved out. You were thanking the gods he was home for the weekend. He had moved out some time ago but stopped by when he could now that it was just you and your mom. Despite your thirteen year age gap you were closer with Derek than you were your sisters, you had always spent the most time with him while he lived in the house and you both kept in regular communication once he moved out, unlike with your sisters. They were never mean to you, you just never formed as close of a bond.

Once you do reach home you fall through the door, tears threatening to fall, both in anger and in bitter sadness. You were angry you were lied to and devastated that your parents were not just murdered but apparently tortured in their own home. You bolt straight to the living room knowing that's where Derek would probably be.

“Hey hey hey, what's wrong sweets?” Derek asks as you appear around the doorway, chest heaving and tears now flooding your cheeks as sobs wrack through your body. “THEY WERE MURDERED DEREK, MY PARENTS, NOT JUST MURDERED, TORTURED THEN BURNT ALIVE AS THEY BLED OUT!” you yell at him, for the first time in your life you yell at him in anger, you had been angry at him before, typical sibling fights growing up but you had never shouted, it just wasn't in your nature. He looked confused, then guilty quickly followed by sympathy and sadness. “How, how did you find out?” he asked, he looked like he wanted to approach you but you glared at him in a way he hadn't seen before, you looked both scared and furious, he knew he didn't have much time to explain before you decide to not talk to him until you could trust him again. “Can you sit. I'll make hot cocoa and explain everything, promise.” He sees you relax slightly but you go the opposite way around the couch purposely to avoid him.

To Derek's credit he did explain most of the details, he left some out and told you he did so, he knew you understood more than practically anyone your age, you were doing highschool courses in middle school but that didn't mean he wanted you to know the full details of how your parents were murdered, no matter how old or smart you were. You were a mess by the end of it, you were so angry but it wasn't directed at Derek or Fran anymore, just the man the BAU caught and had put away for life.

That day had instilled a determination and an anxiety in your mind. You were determined to join the BAU one day, human behaviour was already a fascination of yours so it seemed like the right choice, it had been on your radar anyway, but you also began struggling mentally. You started struggling to speak in places that weren't home, it didn't matter who it was trying to talk to you, you just couldn't get the words out.

Where the school was filled with genius children a high percent of your grade was based on participation meaning when you stopped speaking, your grades started dropping, rapidly. You knew what was coming before it officially came.

You got the letter.

You have been rejected from Sweetwood High School for the upcoming academic year and have been denied scholarship from The Towers foundation. Due to policy you will not be able to reapply. We thank you for your application.

And you cried. A lot. But no matter how much you tried you still couldn't get yourself to talk when you weren't at home. The school wasn't all that supportive, the counsellor just told you to talk and teachers just got frustrated with you, often yelling at you. Kids began bullying you for your lack of speaking. It just became a hellish place on earth. Then Derek moved to Virginia just after you graduated middle school.

You managed to keep the not talking and the slipped grades to yourself, you even managed to keep the rejection from sweetwood from your mother. You had gotten acceptance from the local high school just down the road from your house given your middle schools C equalled out to their A* they were happy to have you.

You managed to keep up your act until you had Derek on your bed one evening, holding your report card, the letter of concern and rejection letter. You were expecting a lecture, maybe he would yell at you like you had those months ago. “I'm sorry, I don't know why this is happening.” is all you said, sagging in defeat. “Come with me over to Virginia, kid. I've been getting phone calls practically off the hook and I didn't want to confront you but I think you need a change of place. I spoke to Mom already and as long as you still visit when I do she's okay with it.” So that's really why you hadn't been caught out, noted. “What's going on kid?”

And now you were here, walking into your job at the FBI, with two doctorates with an in progress third, two master's degrees and three fast tracked bachelors degrees to boot, you had skipped high school physically but you had done high school courses in middle school and late elementary so you had the credits. You focused your first two Bachelors on having fun as they took you a year a piece so you had them at fifteen, One in psychology and the other in Mechanical engineering. Then you got serious and gained your bachelors in criminology, masters degrees in psychology and linguistics then completed your PHDs in Linguistics and Psychology and you were now around six months away from finishing your third PHD in Mathematics. You had plans to gain another degree, be it a masters or another PHD. But you were going to take a break to get settled into the BAU once you had finished your current work.

“Hey sweetheart, you ready?” Derek asks, giving you his million watt smile as the lift doors open and you step out into the lobby. You nod signing to him. “Yeah but talkings just is not going to happen. Can you translate? The last thing I want is an actual translator on my first day.” Derek had learnt sign language to make life easier for you, and him really, no more writing down everything. “Sure thing sweetheart, Hotch has text to speech software set up on a designated laptop for you as well for when I'm not there as you’re go between or for meetings.” and you visibly relax at that. This place already seemed more welcoming to your lack of talking than anywhere else and you had barely started. “Cmon, let's go to Hotch's office, you have paperwork and introductions to do.'' He led you through the bullpen up to Hotch's office and poked his head in to tell him you were here where you were then told to come in.

“y/n, good to see you again” He greets, reaching across the table to shake your hand. You nod giving him a smile in greeting. “We do have a case so the team is in the round table room down the hall now but I have to make a phone call so you have about ten minutes to make introductions. You can do the substantial paperwork when we get back just sign this form so I can give you your standard issue and Agent ID.” He explains, you appreciate him running through everything and sign the form on his desk, taking the gun and badge he hands you. You give him another nod and smile as you go to leave the room. “Oh and y/n? The team knows your selective mute, so they won't ask questions, I hope that was okay.” You nod, you're fine with people knowing your selective mute. You just hoped that once you were comfortable around the team you were going to be able to talk to them, atleast at the office.

You head down the corridor to the meeting room where the team were gathered, You had their names and faces committed to memory from pictures of the team Derek had around the house. You could have moved out years ago but Derek preferred you stayed with him, he had a great security system in a much better area than you could afford and it was closer to the Bureau and the university where you did research and professor work and it was a comfort to him knowing he could protect you easier where you lived with him. He also had you trained in guns and self defence so you could look after yourself and for his own piece of mind when you were alone at home or out and about once he started at the BAU.

Your anxiety ramps back up as you step into the room, all eyes turning too you as you walk through the doorway. You look towards Derek pleading with him to start introductions before it gets awkward. “This everyone is my baby sister y/n, she's a new agent with us.” He introduces you as you hover slightly towards him. Recognition spreads across the agent's faces, “Your Derek's sister? Oh my god you're so pretty!” A woman you recognise as Penelope squeals, rushing over to hug you. You hugged her back, Derek had warned you she was one for physical affection before you came. “It's so nice to meet you but I have to ask, what are we calling you given your both agent Morgans?” she asked as she pulled away. You smiled and began signing, not entirely sure Derek would be able to see your hands but he knew the answer so it didn't matter anyway. “I have two doctorates so Doctor Morgan or Doc works in the field, other than that you can use my first name.” Derek manages to translate for you despite the awkward angle. With the team nodding. You turn to face them where Emily, JJ Spencer and Rossi all introduce themselves, Spencer asking you in sign if you could talk about your PHDs later to which you nod excitedly, partly at being able to speak to another person about your PHD and having a second person on the team speak sign. It was then that Hotch came in to begin the briefing.

“You ready? You can always start the next case you know right? No one expects you to hit the ground running, you know.” Derek checks in with you as you head out of the room. “Yeah I know but I'm here to solve cases not sit around Derek, I'll be fine, I have a bag in my car.” He gives you a nod as he diverts to his desk leaving you to carry on down to the parking lot before heading to the tarmac.

Once you get settled onto the jet Spencer joins you, opting to sit in front to make it easier for him to read your hands, you guessed he knew ASL but hadn't had much practise using it with other people. When Derek joined you on the jet he just nodded at you and sat in a chair not far away, knowing you were happy where you were, talking about the things you loved with someone who actually understood them for once in a way that wasn't awkward for either of you. A perfect match in his eyes.

Taglist; @reidstheyfriend

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