#and I love him more than I’ve ever loved anyone
Note
you asked for fallout request, so here i am, eagerly writing this…
i’ve been craving a cooper howard x reader oneshot where him and the reader are navigating through life in their own way. maybe a run in with tricky people?? angst?? fluff??? it’s up to you best friend. THANK YOU!!!
AN | Alright, let’s goooo. First go around with Cooper and we had to go with some fluff because that is my specialty. I’ve loved Fallout for a long time and I love the show too❤️
Pairing | Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x fem!reader
Warnings | language; gun violence
Word Count | 3k
Masterlist | Main
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
You weren't sure if you'd call yourselves friends.
More like…an unwitting duo of sorts. Unwitting on your end more than anything.
You'd promised him that you absolutely didn't need company or anyone to assist you. He'd insisted that the only way he'd let you go on your own was over his dead body. You'd contemplated that idea for a few moments. Given his reputation, you decided not to push him too much.
The realization that he was a stubborn old man who wasn't going to change his mind was the only reason he was still next to you. Begrudgingly, mind you.
“How much further, darlin’?” His deep voice cut through your internal monologue and you shot a glare in his direction, “I'm starting to think you're not the best judge of distance.”
“If you're just going to complain,” you pointed over your shoulder back to the last town you'd passed through, “you're more than welcome to go back and terrorize that town. I told you that I didn't need you to come with me.”
“And why would I listen to you, huh?” He rolled his eyes lightly as you scoffed, “you'd be dead before the sun went down, sweetheart.”
“So what?” You turned on your heel, walking backwards so you could face him, “why do you care?! You don't even like me!”
“Contrary to what you believe, I do have somewhat of a conscience,” his voice was gruff but somewhat soft, “and if I let you go and then heard that you were killed, I'd be a little annoyed.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve already saved your life once,” he so sweetly reminded you as you sighed heavily, “and I didn't just save your life so you could go and be killed by someone else.”
“Ain’t that sweet? You’re a modern day prince,” you mocked his twang as his expression refused to shift. It was almost annoying how unfazed he remained the majority of the time, “I had it handled. You happened to come at an inconvenient time.”
“If that's what helps you sleep at night,” he had to fight to hold back a laugh as you turned back around and you marched in front of him, making it a point not to look back at him. He had to be the most infuriating person you'd ever met. He'd had two hundreds years to perfect being annoying and he had done exceedingly well.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
The two of you had been traveling together for a number of days. You'd managed not to kill each other, luckily, but otherwise things had remained mostly the same. Silence, and if it wasn’t silence, it'd be harsh words and fast quips.
You didn't hate him - not really. You hated the idea that anyone, let alone a man, believed that you needed help. You'd had things handled and would have kept yourself safe. He'd just happened to come fight when you were in the midst of either killing or getting killed.
He wasn't going to let that go anytime soon. That much you already knew about him.
“It’s cold,” you announced as the two of you made camp for the night. You pulled your jacket tighter around your frame but it was no use, “I’m cold. Can we make a fire?”
“That, princess, is one of the many reasons you need someone out there to keep an eye on you,” if you didn’t know any better, you’d almost have thought that he was being kind - nice.
“Listen,” you sat down and leaned against one of the trees near the clearing you’d decided to call home for the evening, “I know it’s not exactly safe or the best idea, but I’d rather do that than freeze.”
“It ain’t even that cold,” he mused, stripping off his overcoat and tossing it over to you. You made a sound of surprise, but didn’t hesitate to put it on, “life really was different for you, wasn’t it? I’d say it was almost as easy as those vaulties had it.”
“It wasn’t…” you knew he wasn’t wrong. You’d come from a place of privilege, having been born into a family with wealth, new world wealth anyway, and had it pretty easy for a surface dweller. You’d lived in a large, well stocked and safe home with people around to do your bidding. Those were some of the perks of having a father that was some sort of merchant prince, “it wasn’t like that.”
“Yeah?” he rolled out his bedroll, a bitter laugh escaping him, “sounds like you had nothing to do and everything done for you.”
“I mean…” you trailed off, knowing it was futile to lie to him. He’d known your father after all; Cooper Howard was the one sent to fetch you and return you home once your father had found out you’d run away, “it was…good sometimes. There were a lot of bad times too. But I still know how to do things for myself. I could kill you with my bare hands if I wanted to. I’ve done it before.”
“Huh,” he grabbed a vial and downed it one go, his eyes never leaving your face, “guess that makes you a killer. Just. Like. Me.”
“I did what I had to do,” you swallowed thickly, blinking back tears that threatened to well up. Cooper knew that you had run away, but he didn’t know the full extent of what had happened to cause you to run away, “and we’re here.”
“Tell me what happened,” your eyes snapped to him as you tried to weigh his words in order to see if he was being serious or not. He’d never really taken an interest into your personal life, but you wondered if that was because he genuinely didn’t care or if he’d just created some sort of creed for himself that didn’t allow him to get close to anyone, “what made you run away from your sweet little life, darlin’?”
“Cooper,” you wiped your hands on your thighs and shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. You’d never really said his name before and that caught him off guard, “does it really matter?”
“It’s still buggin’ you, clearly,” he mirrored your position and crossed his arms over his chest, “and we ain’t got nothing but time.”
You inhaled deeply before slowly exhaling and looking at the sky. You could feel his attention still focused on you, “my father told me that there was a man I was going to marry. I told him no and he told me that I didn’t have a choice. Said man found me shortly before the wedding was supposed to happen and he…he tried to…”
You paused for a moment, wiping away the tears that had unwittingly rolled down your cheeks. Cooper’s gaze had darkened but he was still watching; the expression on his face looked like he was ready to commit murder.
“He didn’t get a chance to do anything,” you said softly, “I killed him before he could. But he managed to get me a little bit when he was trying to fight me off. That’s why I had a black eye and all the bruises.”
“Darlin’-”
“I didn’t hesitate, Coop,” your expression steeled as you looked him in the eyes, “and I won’t hesitate now. A man will never tell me what to do. And I don’t need anyone thinking I need someone to protect me.”
Cooper had been listening with rapt attention, his mind already thinking of the things he could do to your father. Bringing you back to him definitely wasn’t one of those things. He’d made up his mind about that almost the moment he’d met you. You’d been sporting a black eye and cut lip, dried blood caked on your hands and arms. He was smart enough to put two and two together.
“For what it’s worth,” he looked back at you with the gentlest expression you’d seen on him, “I’m sorry for what you had to go through. Those are not men, those are monsters.”
“And you’re going to bring me right back to him,” it was a question presented as a statement. You weren’t entirely sure what his plan with you was; you’d been scared to ask. But he also wasn’t hadn’t mentioned a word of bringing you back to your father, “aren’t you?”
“I ain’t bringing you back,” he admitted and you couldn’t keep the surprise off your face, “I never was. I’ve been around a long time, little girl. I know what your father is. I figured it was a better option for me to find you than someone else.”
“You’re not?” you hated how small your voice sounded; how you almost sounded scared. In a way you were. Scared of going back to the place that you hated and would surely make sure you suffered, but you were also scared of forging a new path. You didn’t really know where you were going or what you were going to, “really?”
“On one condition,” of course. You waved your hand, motioning for him to go, “you admit that you have no clue where we’re going and we’ve basically been making this hell of a trek for no real reason.”
You tried to look serious for a moment, but you couldn’t help but start to laugh at how well he could already read you. Cooper was so taken aback by the soft, sweet sound that he couldn’t help the smile that tugged up the corners of his mouth. When you managed to catch your breath, you looked at him and cocked your head to the side, “I have no clue where we’re going and we’ve been making this hell of a trek for no real reason.”
“Honesty,” he pulled one of his knees toward his chest and drummed his fingers on it, “it’s refreshing. You’re gonna be alright, kid.”
“There’s a place,” you murmured after a few moments of silence, “that my mom told me about when I was little. She made it sound like this magical place. I guess really, that’s where I want to go.”
“I hate to break it to you,” Cooper said, “but magical places don’t really exist. They never really did.”
“I know,” you admitted softly, “it just seemed like that when I was young. She died a long time ago, but I’d always think about that place, going there someday. She said it was west - just go west and you’ll know when you’re there.”
“Hmm,” he nodded and paused for a moment before getting up and grabbing some nearby sticks and bringing them to the center of the clearing. He started making a fire before you could even question him, “if it draws anything out, I’m sure we can handle it.”
“Thanks Coop,” you watched him work, an odd feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. Once the fire was going, he settled down near you, “Cooper?”
“Hmm?”
“We are going west, right?” your question caused him to chuckle before he reached into his pocket and pulled something small out that he passed over you. It was a small silver compass worn and weathered just like him.
“I’m sorry to tell you, sweetheart, but we’ve been goin’ east for the last couple of days,” he shrugged as you groaned at yourself. At least you didn’t have anywhere to be at any particular time, “had I know we’ve been searching for a magical place, I could have told you we were going the wrong way.”
“I guess I’m not as handy as I thought,” you grumbled to yourself, clutching the compass tightly in your hand, “you know you don’t have to come, right?”
“I know,” he nodded, “you think anyone could force me to do something against my will, you don’t know me at all, sugar. Now stop your yapping and get some rest. We’ll start heading west at sunrise.”
You paused for a moment, pulling his coat tighter around you, “thanks, Coop.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
The next couple of days of trekking passed in relative peace. The two of you were now making your way west for whatever magical place your mom had made you dream of you. You weren’t sure why Cooper was still with you, but you weren’t about to complain. He provided some decent company since you’d had your little heart to heart, but he owed you nothing. You weren’t exactly complaining; he was the closest thing to a friend you’d had in a long time.
But, as things would have it in the wasteland, life threw a wrench in your plans. A wrench in the form of two raiders that definitely weren’t looking to get chummy.
“Ugh,” you groaned as the two figures approached from a distance. The two of you were outside of a saloon, trying to decide whether to keep pressing on for the evening or staying put and turning in. Cooper followed your line of sight and made a sign of annoyance, “why do I feel like they’re going to make trouble?”
“Well, darlin’, that’s because they’re about to make trouble,” he touched the brim of his hat and pulled it further down.
“Look who it is,” one of the men sneered at the two of you. He looked about as unfriendly as they came, “the Ghoul of the hour and his little bounty.”
“We heard you were having some trouble delivering her back home,” his partner came up and eyed you without shame. He looked disgusting with greasy hair and rotting teeth, a sinister expression on his face, “so we came to take over.”
“Go fuck yourself,” you spit at him, reaching for the dagger that was at your side. You felt Cooper reach for your hand and gently squeeze it in order to stop you from making any rash moves.
“What this charming sweetheart means is that she is not going back with you,” Cooper smirked at them, “so you can run along now.”
“Fucking Ghoul,” the first man snarled at him, “you couldn’t even do your job. Turn the bitch over and we’ll let you go alive…or whatever the hell you are.”
“You can go back to my father and tell him that he can go fuck himself too,” you hissed, blood boiling with sheer annoyance and anger, “and if you don’t turn around right now-”
“What?” His voice was sticky sweet and filled with vinegar as he smiled at you; both of them had pistols in their hands and that made your stomach churn. They could easily get the jump on you, “you’ll kill me?”
“No,” Cooper pushed you behind him and looked at them with a grin on his face. Of course he’d be enjoying this, “but I will.”
“Why don’t you just-” but the man couldn’t get another word in as the sound of the gunshot rang through the air, causing you to stumble backwards and cover your ears. A second shot rang out within seconds and you saw the other body fall to the ground.
It happened so fast that you couldn’t help the shock that ran through your body, causing you to let you let out a loud sob. You’d seen death before, you’d seen things much worse than before but there was something about the moment that was overwhelming.
Blood spattered the side of the building, causing you to dry heave as you noticed the bits of brain and bone clinging to it. Your ears were still ringing as you tried not to completely lose your grip on reality.
“Hey,” you heard his voice cut through the fog and you felt his hand on your shoulders, helping to keep you steady and upright. You shifted your gaze up and found his eyes concerned, “hey.”
“I-I…” you couldn’t even form a proper sentence as you looked at him, “they…you. You saved me.”
Before he could even respond, you threw your arms around him and held tightly onto him. He was taken aback for a moment before he hugged you back, and you could feel his breath of relief. There was something so good and reassuring about the feel of his arms around you.
“You would have had it handled,” he insisted and you shook your head.
“No,” you looked at him and to your surprise he gently wiped away your tears, “I couldn’t have. I couldn’t have saved myself this time. Thank you.”
“No need to thank me, darlin’,” he took your chin in his hand and kept your gaze on his, “I’ll be right here if you need me.”
“I do,” you wrapped your fingers around his wrist and nodded slightly, “I do need you. Don’t go.”
“The only place I’m going is west,” there was that smile again, the one that rarely graced his features. The same one that made your legs feel like jello, “are you comin’?”
“Yes,” you promised, “I’m coming.”
“Well then, we best get goin’ sweetheart,” he glanced over the carnage that he left behind, “before someone else comes to make trouble.”
He checked himself over to make sure he had everything ready to. You missed the feel of his touch almost immediately.
Once he made sure he had everything, he held his hand out to you.
You took it without hesitation.
#cooper howard#cooper howard x reader#cooper howard x you#the ghoul#the ghoul x reader#the ghoul x you#fallout#fallout fic#fallout prime#walton goggins
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scotty doesn’t know - e.m.
eddie munson x fem reader
18+ ONLY MDNI
warnings: no use of y/n, cheating, protected piv sex, light degradation kink, spanking, phone sex kinda?, shitty boyfriend behavior, mentions of alcohol/partying, some angst, all characters are 18+!
series masterlist
based on scotty doesn’t know by lustra
a/n: i’ve worked so hard to spruce up this series and i’m so excited to be reposting it for you all. be on the lookout for the next two parts. this fic is my actual baby, and it means so much to me. i hope you all enjoy xx.
word count: 4.3k
It had started out as mostly a joke, a proposition that he never imagined you’d actually take him up on.
You always thought Eddie Munson, the town ‘freak’ was incredibly attractive, not that you’d ever voice that opinion to anyone. Mostly due to the fact that you had a boyfriend, who in the eyes of everyone in Hawkins— was the definition of perfect.
Scott McGuire was a great boyfriend… on the surface.
He was a star basketball player, friends with the most popular people in school. His family was loaded, despite being from a small town like Hawkins. He drove a Mercedes, and made you feel so special. When he had asked you out halfway through your junior year, you were over the moon.
And in the beginning of your relationship, you were beyond smitten with him. But after a year of dating him, you’d come to realize he was nothing you had wanted.
Scott was arrogant, vain and downright cruel. His biggest flaw being that he took absolute pleasure in causing pain to others. The main target of his rage was Eddie and his band of ‘freaks’. His best friend Jason was right by his side, constantly tormenting the group. But always Eddie more so than anyone else. You never enjoyed it, always finding a way to escape the moment an insult (or a punch) was thrown his way.
Despite all of this, you felt pressured to stay with him.
Your parents absolutely adored him and so did your friends. Most of which were the girlfriends of his friends. Your lives had become so interwoven you felt trapped. So to appease everyone else in your life, you continued the relationship. Even though you knew you didn’t love him.
In your eyes he was, all around, the worst boyfriend you could have landed… especially when it came to sex.
Scott was terrible in bed.
He only wanted you on his terms, only caring about his wants and needs. And in the year you’d been with him, he’d never made you come. Not once. At first you thought something was wrong with you, that you were broken.
But the more you talked with your friends on the cheer squad, the quicker you began to realize it was a Scott problem. Not a you problem. So you started faking it, your little act becoming so good that you even deluded yourself into believing it sometimes.
But that was how you got yourself into this predicament in the first place.
You were at a party at Chrissy’s, a celebration for the basketball team making it to the state championship. Initially you wanted to stay home, as parties were never something you enjoyed. But you knew how bad it would look if you didn’t show. So you went, swallowing your pride with a fake smile plastered across your face.
You let yourself fall into the role of the proud, doting girlfriend. You knew how to play it well, as it was second nature to you at this point.
At some point during the night Scott had pulled you into a random bedroom, with the promises of rocking your world. Those promises fell short, as they always did. Scott had you propped up on the unmade bed, gripping your hips as he pounded sloppily into you. The fake moans that left your lips somehow had convinced you both that you were enjoying yourself.
That is until the door swung open and a semi-tipsy Eddie Munson stumbled upon the scene. He was originally looking for the bathroom, much to the embarrassment of you both. You couldn’t hide the shame that flitted across your features, or stop your moans from faltering slightly.
Scott miraculously didn’t notice the intrusion as he continued to thrust into you, your fake moans continuing to fill the small bedroom. Your eyes were locked with Eddie’s as he stood frozen in the doorway. The two of you just stared at each other for a few moments, before he snapped out of whatever stupor he was in and quickly left the room.
You figured nothing would come from it, except for a new found embarrassment every time you saw him in class. But what you didn’t expect was for him to seek you out in study hall that following Monday.
You were in the library, searching for a new book to read when he cornered you. His curls were wild, that faded Hellfire shirt hugged his broad shoulders nicely. A playful smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as you tried not to stare. But those brown eyes seemed to look right through you.
“You know, I’ve seen better acting in pornos.” He spoke softly, as not to embarrass either of you.
Or to alert Ms. Hall, the school librarian.
She was such a hard ass, especially when it came to talking in the library. You had hoped that maybe Eddie would’ve been too drunk to remember what happened at the party. Or both of you would ignore the situation.
But that clearly wasn’t the case. You can feel the embarrassment coursing through you as you actively avoided his curious gaze.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Munson,” you sneer before turning on your heel, grabbing a random book off the shelf in the process.
You clutch the paperback closer to your chest as you quickly try to escape the conversation.
He doesn’t let you get very far though, trailing behind you before taking a seat next to you at one of the study tables.
“I mean it must be frustrating, faking it all the time,” he continues nonchalantly, resting a ringed hand next to yours on the table.
His fingertips drum against the faux wood, as you struggle to think of a reply. But your continued silence and flustered appearance spoke volumes as you began to fiddle with the frayed hem of your dress.
Eddie leans in closer, letting his breath fan across your face. The smell of his spicy cologne and a hint of smoke engulfs your senses, making your head spin.
He hums softly, keeping his voice low, “Just doesn’t seem fair. Any decent guy would make sure you were being treated well.”
You could feel his body heat due to the close proximity, biting your lip as you stopped yourself from leaning against him.
“He does treat me well,” you whisper back, glancing down at the book as you begin flipping through the pages.
Eddie scoffs at the notion as his hand reaches out to close the cover again. His fingertips brush against yours in the process, the small touch sending tingles down your spine.
The male glances around the mostly empty library before he leans in closer. His lips nearly graze the shell of your ear as you hold your breath in anticipation. Eddie chuckles deeply, enjoying just how flustered he’s made you.
“Well, if you want to know what it’s like to be properly taken care of…” he trails off, as you let out a shaky breath. “You know where to find me, sweetheart.”
The promise behind his words instantly makes your thighs clench together. Watching in stunned silence as he quickly gets up and strolls out of the library.
Those words sat with you for days, taunting you.
Finding yourself utterly frustrated, in more ways than one. You just couldn’t shake how badly you wanted to take him up on that offer. Morally, you knew it was wrong— you had a boyfriend.
But there was something that felt so right about it.
Despite your initial reservations, you very quickly found yourself in the back of Eddie’s van. Your legs were flung over his shoulders, your fingers tangled in his curls as his tongue had you seeing stars. It became blatantly obvious from your first time together that there was no way this could be a one time thing.
So you compromised, agreeing to meet up once a week. But only on Sundays, when you could give Scott the excuse of going to church with your parents. Ironically your family was not the church going type, but your boyfriend never questioned it.
However the longer you snuck around with Eddie, the more insatiable you became. Until it was almost a daily occurrence that you were under him, begging him to show you everything you were missing out on. It had surprised the both of you, but Eddie was more than happy to oblige.
But the constant sneaking around meant you couldn’t exclusively fuck in the back of his van anymore. Causing the both of you to become more creative in the process.
More than once you’d pull him under the bleachers in the gym once basketball practice ended. His ringed fingers tangled in your hair as you dropped to your knees. Or he’d bend you over the table in the drama room after a Hellfire campaign, dice and crushed cans of Mountain Dew falling off the table with each thrust of his hips.
But it still wasn’t enough, which led you to take more drastic measures.
You were on all fours, fingers clutching your floral bed sheets as Eddie pounded into you from behind.
Your parents were gone for the weekend to celebrate their wedding anniversary. Which left you with the house all to yourself, something that didn’t happen often. So this was an opportunity you didn’t want to pass up. Dialing his number before you even got out of bed that morning.
Regardless of his not so stellar reputation, it didn’t seem to sway a lot of women in Hawkins. And despite what Scott might have told you, Eddie has had plenty of sexual partners before. As many jumped at the chance to see if the rumors about the local freak were true. Which only seemed to fuel more rumors about the metalhead.
But out of everyone he had ever slept with— you were by far the neediest of them all.
Eddie couldn’t deny that he loved it. Knowing he was the only one who could turn you into a crying, blubbering mess. Not even seemingly perfect Scotty McGuire could make you feel this way. He would pay to see the look on his face if he could see just how wrecked you were.
Tears of pleasure streaming down your cheeks as you begged the town freak to fuck you harder.
“Look at you, such a needy little slut,” he chuckles, condensation lacing his tone. “Couldn’t even wait a whole day for my cock, huh?”
Eddie was by far the biggest guy you’ve ever had, and he certainly knew how to use it. His cock reached places inside you that you didn’t know existed until now. So it was no surprise that you didn’t want to wait another day to see him again.
But deep down you knew that wasn’t the only reason you had called him over. However, you weren’t entirely ready to have that conversation with yourself yet.
“I… shit,” you mewl, finding yourself at a loss for words as he increased his pace.
Pathetic whines spill past your lips with each thrust of his hips, your walls gripping him tightly. Pleasure coursed through you as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. A mixture of your arousal and his spit was smeared across your thighs. A reminder of where he’d been slotted between them earlier.
“Aww, come on, sweetheart,” he teases, nipping at your ear as he slows to a more gradual pace. “Be a good girl and tell me who’s making you feel so good.”
The orgasm that had been building in your abdomen suddenly fizzles out as he stills his hips at your deepest point. You nearly cry out in defeat as he lands a harsh slap on your ass.
You knew the rules by now, he needed to hear you.
“Y-You… fuck you are, Eddie.” He hummed in response, guiding your hips forward.
“That’a girl.”
The drag of his cock has you whining, the sound quickly being drowned out by the phone on your bedside table. You fully intended to ignore the shrill ringing as you began grinding your ass back against him. But he grips your hips to stop any further movement.
“Answer it.”
Your eyes widen as you glance over your shoulder at him, bewilderment crossing your features. There’s a smirk playing on his lips as he lands another slap on your ass, “That wasn’t a suggestion, sweetheart.”
You quickly fumble for the phone, not wanting this to end so soon. You’d come to realize just how much Eddie enjoyed teasing you the more you slept together. But you’d had enough teasing for one day.
So you place the receiver against your ear, trying to calm your erratic breathing, “H-Hello?”
You mentally curse yourself for the way your voice shakes, feeling your stomach drop at the voice on the other end of the line.
“You alright, babe? You sound winded,” you can hear the slightest bit of suggestiveness in his tone, having to stop yourself from rolling your eyes.
This was something you’d come to expect from Scott, the male always finding a way to bring sex into every conversation. Despite knowing he was actually spot on this time, only it wasn’t your fingers that were buried inside you.
But what you didn’t anticipate was for Eddie to start thrusting back into you at a leisurely pace. You bite down onto your lower lip for a moment before you laugh, the sound not at all genuine. But Scott couldn’t tell the difference, he never paid enough attention.
“I’m great, Scott.” Your breath hitches in your throat as Eddie’s lips graze over your shoulder, “J-Just in the middle of a… workout.”
You hear Eddie laugh softly behind you, the male on the other end blissfully unaware of the kind of workout you were currently engaged in. Despite your initial reservations about answering the phone, you couldn’t deny the rush it gave you. Almost wanting to be caught like this.
“You still swinging by the party tonight?” Scott asks, as you continue to pulse around Eddie’s thick shaft.
His thrusts deepen, slipping a hand between your thighs to rub your sensitive clit. Your thoughts are completely jumbled as you try to stay engaged with the conversation. But it’s proving to be difficult.
“P-Party?” You breathe out, gripping the receiver tighter in your palm.
You can hear your boyfriend’s annoyed sigh, knowing he was rolling his eyes as your own rolled into the back of your head. Eddie grunts softly in your other ear as he rams into your sweet spot. It took every bit of your remaining self restraint to not moan directly into the phone.
“It’s Tommy’s birthday. I told you about it last week,” he huffs, clearly no longer amused.
You vaguely recall the conversation, but lately you’d found yourself tuning him out more and more. Having much more important things to occupy your attention.
“Right! No, I remember now.” Your words come out whinier than you intended, but Scott doesn’t seem to notice.
You were getting close, and Eddie knew it too.
“So? Are you coming?”
Eddie stifles another laugh at the unintended joke.
He quickly wraps his ringed fingers around the base of your throat and lifts you, so your back is now flush against his sweaty chest. The new angle allows him to slip even deeper inside, causing a gasp to escape you. You quickly disguise it as a cough, before answering your boyfriend.
“Yeah, I’ll be there. Listen, I-I gotta go. See you tonight.”
You hang up the phone before he even has a chance to respond. The loud moan that was trapped in your throat is finally set free, earning a groan from the male behind you.
Eddie’s disheveled curls began tickling your face as he leaned toward your ear again, “Bet he didn’t suspect a damn thing, huh?”
You can hear the smugness in his tone, whimpering as he puts more pressure on your clit.
“Cause he can’t make you feel the way I do. Can he, sweetheart?” You frantically nod your head before letting it fall back onto his shoulder.
You know you can’t hold out for much longer, and judging by the way his cock twitches inside you— Eddie won’t either.
His lips attach themselves to the curve of your neck, sucking harshly as you tremble in his arms.
“Ed… f-fuck I’m gonna—” you are unable to finish your thought as that familiar wave of euphoria crashes over you.
He nearly growls as you cry out his name again and again, the sound being his undoing. He spills into the condom with a grunt of your name, his chest heaving as he buries himself at your deepest point. The sounds of his erratic breathing mixes with yours, filling the now quiet space of your bedroom. Feeling utterly weak in the best way possible.
And if his arms weren’t securely wrapped around your waist, you would’ve collapsed face first into the mattress.
You stay entangled like that for a few moments while you both come down from your highs. Enjoying the way his lips press against the curve of your shoulder.
Eddie’s actions are gentle now, carefully guiding your hips up to slip out of you. He coaxes you to lay on your back, a lazy smile playing on your lips as you gazed up at him. As amazing as the sex was, what came after was just as enjoyable.
Emotionally, your boyfriend was always unavailable.
Especially after a round in the sheets, he was particularly cold. In the year you’d been together Scott had never once held you or comforted you. It always left you with an overwhelming sense of shame— of feeling used.
So naturally you had expected the same kind of treatment from Eddie, as you had never experienced aftercare before. After that first time together you had begun to put your clothes back on, attempting to leave right away.
But he stopped you with a soft, “Don’t go.”
It didn’t take much convincing as you laid your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. He kept you tucked in his embrace for hours, fingertips dancing along your hip. From that moment on it was the same treatment. His affection only increased the more you fooled around.
Your eyes follow him as he rises from the bed to toss the condom in your trash bin. Giving Eddie the opportunity to finally take a look around your room.
You suddenly felt nervous as he made his way over to your record collection, flicking through the vinyls with the utmost care. While your popularity status had recently changed due to dating Scott, you always felt out of place amongst them. You could never be your full authentic self, in fear of rejection from your peers.
Eddie seemed to find a record that he liked, sliding it out of its sleeve and placing it on the turntable. It is quiet for a moment, the crackle of the record is almost comforting. Soon the beginning notes of the Labyrinth soundtrack fill that silence. You instantly feel shy, not expecting him to choose that album in particular.
Your boyfriend had teased you relentlessly for your love of David Bowie, always complaining about how weird he was. It made you feel ashamed to talk about any of your interests, most of which you’d hidden away in fear of being mocked.
But with that small act Eddie had proved, once again, that he was superior to Scott in every way imaginable.
He begins to hum along to the opening track, grabbing his boxers from the pile of your discarded clothes on the floor. Sliding the checkered material back over his legs, the fabric hanging low on his hips. You bite your lip as your eyes drift over his pale skin, zeroing in on the patch of hair that descended into his waistband.
“Keep giving me those eyes and we’re gonna have a problem, princess.” He teases, his smirk widening as he catches you ogling him.
You feel your body flush as he shoots you a playful wink before slipping into your adjoined bathroom. You hear the tap turn on, the rush of water mingling with the sultry baritone of Bowie’s vocals. You allow your body to relax against the mattress, a sense of calm washing over you.
Eddie wasn’t gone for long, emerging from the bathroom with a glass of water and a damp washcloth. He sets the glass on your nightstand, taking a seat on the edge of your bed. The male carefully parts your legs, pressing a kiss to your knee as he cleans up the mess of salvia and slick that has dried onto your thighs.
You let your eyes linger on his face, watching him in complete admiration. His cheeks are tinged pink, no doubt from the weight of your gaze. He’s also not used to being regarded with such gentleness.
Eddie sheepishly avoids your eyes as he stands, tossing the used cloth into your hamper. You scoot into a sitting position to take a few sips of water from the glass. Blatantly checking him out as he bends over to grab another piece of clothing from your carpeted floor.
“Arms up,” he instructs, allowing him to pull your oversized shirt over your head.
He quickly joins you again, causing a small giggle to escape you as he squeezes himself onto your twin sized mattress. The male grins, allowing you to drape your body over his. You tangle your limbs together, instinctively resting your head on his chest.
Your eyes flutter shut as you listen to the steady beat of his heart in your ear. A soft smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, feeling him press a kiss to the top of your head.
In moments like this, it was easy for you to pretend that Eddie Munson was all yours.
There were no worries about being caught, or what anyone in this god forsaken town had to say about it. But the more time you spent with him, the more you began to realize that you wanted him all to yourself.
You knew it was incredibly selfish, he didn’t deserve to be someone’s secret side piece. So you kept these newly emerging feelings to yourself.
“You feeling okay?” His voice cuts through your thoughts, lifting your head to meet his gaze. “I wasn’t too rough or anything, was I?”
Eddie’s tone was vastly different from how he’d spoken to you earlier, and yet it only made your adoration for him grow. Knowing he truly cared about your feelings, it wasn’t just a courtesy.
His hand gently caresses your sore ass, his fingertips continuing to ghost over the curve of your spine. The tenderness of his actions made you shiver as you nuzzled your face back into his chest.
“It was perfect.” You hum, voice echoing your contentment, “You were perfect.”
Gentle, rough or anything in between— you’d be grateful as long as it was with him.
You were sure he could feel the warmth that had begun to seep into your cheeks at your admission. Reaching out his hand to delicately grasp your chin, tilting your head up to meet his curious gaze.
But it wasn’t just curiosity that shone through his eyes.
There was something else. Something deeper simmering beneath the surface of his irises.
This was uncharted territory for you, as no one, not even your boyfriend had regarded you in such a way before. But that single look alone made your heart flutter rapidly against your ribs.
You both begin to lean in without realizing, lips brushing together as you cradle his jaw. This was something completely new for both of you. While you’d kissed plenty of times, it never happened after the sex ended.
This was quickly becoming a dangerous game, one neither of you had any intention of losing.
And as hard as you tried to avoid your feelings, you knew you were starting to fall for him. Which was the most dangerous game of them all.
Your lips continued to move against each other for what felt like forever, only breaking apart to catch your breath every so often. Kissing Eddie was just as addicting as every other part of him, and you never wanted it to end.
So you stayed like that for hours, stealing kisses in between gentle words. He told you about his home life with Wayne, how he’d listened and memorized every single chord of Master of Puppets until he got it right. Little things that made you understand exactly who Eddie Munson really was.
But time seemed to pass by in an instant, the evening sky bathing the walls of your room in a golden hue. A signal that it was time for him to leave.
You felt a tug on your heartstrings as you watched him slide open your bedroom window, desperately wishing the circumstances were different.
“Wait!” you call as he was already halfway through the window, flashing you a grin as you bounded over to him.
You press a searing kiss to his mouth as he cups your cheek, neither of you quite willing to be the first to pull away.
“I gotta go,” he tries to mask the disappointment in his tone, pressing one last kiss to your lips before slipping out of your window completely.
You watch as the male clumsily jumps down from the second story, his wallet chain jingling upon impact. Eddie takes a moment to steady himself before he turns back to glance up at you. Giving you a little bow before he’s off, cutting through your neighbors yard to get back to his van.
You can hear the blaring guitar of Quiet Riot as he starts up the engine, the rumble echoing in your ears as he takes off down the empty street.
Taking a little piece of your heart with him.
tagging some peeps who seemed interested 💕
@xxbimbobunnyxx @vamp-bunny @munsonhoneybaby @mugloversonly @lokis-army-77
and a special shoutout to my bby @undead-supernova for always being my lil cheerleader ily 🫶🏻
#the freak writes 🫧#my series: scotty doesn’t know 🫧#eddie munson x female character#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x fem!reader smut#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fic#eddie x reader#eddie x you#eddie munson angst
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now playing…MY BOY ONLY BREAKS HIS FAVORITE TOYS (spencer reid)
summary: words get spoken on a night out with a team, things don’t go as planned as a realization dawned upon spencer.
genre: fluff/angst
cw!: alcohol, public humiliation kinda
a/n: i rlly struggled with this one guys, i like how it came out even if it’s not entirely the same as the song.<3 masterlist
anyone that saw spencer right now could tell he was absolutely and irrevocably in love with you.
his puppy dog eyes traced the exposed skin of your collarbones, eyes slyly exploring your silhouette. his gaze landing on your face, your mesmerizing eyes. he glanced at your lips and thought about how sweet the lipgloss you were wearing would taste.
he tried to conceal the smile that was stretching across his face, putting all his efforts in averting his eyes from you. which was probably the most difficult thing he had done ever (…)
you were invited to go out with the team, by penelope. spencer giddily awaited your arrival. glancing over at the bar entrance every time a person came in, his heart racing when he saw someone enter. only to be disappointed when he saw that the person was, in fact, not you.
yet another opening of the door could be heard, and spencer turned his head lazily. slightly dazed from the few drinks he had. his eyes practically doubled in size as he saw you walking in. you looked around a few times before setting your gaze to the group of friends stood by a table. your smile was contagious. by the time you arrived at the table, spencer’s cheeks hurt.
“hey, pretty boy’s been waiting for you all night” derek grinned. spencer shot him a glare.
“no i have not!-“ he stuttered, foolishly struggling to look at you in the eyes, though he really, really wanted to.
you smiled, rolling your eyes at derek’s play fighting with spencer.
“okay okay, who’s getting drinks with me?” you laughed, looking at spencer specifically. he smiled like a kid who just received a new shiny toy, glancing up at you with a bewitched smile.
“i’ll go” spencer spoke, his tone lacking confidence. following you like a lost pup, a soft smile still plastered on his face.
“hey looks like the genius is finally makin’ a move”
“go get her tiger!”
collective catcalls and words of encouragement toward spencer were heard from the table, voices becoming more faint as spencer and you went deeper into the crowd.
“assholes” you laughed, making the air immediately lighter. a trait that spencer admired, amongst many others.
“huh? oh! yeah ignore them, they’re- stupid…” he stumbled over his words, coming out faster than his brain could think. it’s funny how his IQ of 187 could easily be sliced in half when being met with you.
you laughed, nodding in agreement.
“so, what’re you having?” you asked, tilting your head slightly. you noticed how pretty spencer’s featured looked, illuminated by the dim light, accentuating the carvings of his cheekbones.
“i’ve already had something, i don’t drink much” he said quietly, afflicted by the fact that he just turned down your offer.
“but whatever you drink, it’s on me” he looks up, a smile in his voice as he sees a grin form on your face.
“really? you don’t have to do that” you laugh, looking down. you are incredibly thankful for the lights in the bar being to dim, or else you’d have no chance at hiding the tint that was creeping up your cheeks.
“yeah yeah it’s fine, really, it’s on me” he say’s chivalrously. you nod, kissing his cheek lightly and muttering a ‘thank you’ before smiling and leaning on the counter to order.
spencer swore to god his heart stopped. he blinked a few times with wide eyes to make sure it wasn’t just a figment of his imagination. a lingering effect of his intoxication. no, it was real.
you sipped on a martini, nodding to spencer for him to follow you back to the table, where emily and jj were dancing not very far away (and definitely not very far apart) penelope was flirting with derek, and rossi and hotch were doing typical rossi and hotch things.
your face twisted in confusion as the team diverted their attention to reid, looking at him with a mix of pride from morgan, and wonder from the rest of the team.
“you got something there pretty boy” derek pointed to his cheek. spencer rubbed the side of his face, being met with a slightly red stained hand.
you covered your mouth, a laugh threatening to come out.
“sorry spence” was all your could muster without giggling. Spencer looked terrified, a slight pink tint painting his face.
the whole team broke out in laughter, friendly heat of course. but spencer didn’t seem to enjoy the little scene he’d made, he turned and started walking swiftly toward the bar. you tried chasing after him, after realizing he was the only one not laughing. but it was too late as he disappeared into the crowd of drunk dancing people.
you sighed, turning towards the team.
“guys.” you looked at them with a warning expression as their laughter slowly faded. you skipped to were you thought spencer would be. finding him sat at the bar with a glass of water, and his chin resting on his hand
“hey…sorry about that” you said, sitting next to him. closer than usual.
“it’s fine” he gave you a tight lipped smile, clearing his throat and avoiding your eyes. your heart ached, knowing the embarrassment you had probably caused him, and knowing his history with public humiliation. even if they were his friends, it was still wrong.
you reached and placed your hand on his shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze. you felt him tense underneath your touch.
“i’m sorry, really. i didn’t know you had the lipstick and-“ spencer interrupted you , which took you by surprise.
“it’s not that y/n, do you not understand? you are selfish. do you like making fun of me melting under you? do you actually like me or is it just fun to just watch me.” his words were fast and sharp. your brows furrowed and tears pricked your waterline. spencer’s eyes widened after he realized the full blown confession slash burst he just had.
you were his best friend, he trusted you with his life and viceversa. and he was making you cry, all because of his frustration with himself. his love life was not your problem.
“y/n, i didn’t mean it, i- i’m sorry i-“ he stuttered nervously, desperately wishing to reach for your face and wipe the first tear that fell.
“no its fine” you spoke, quietly, so your voice was less doomed to breaking. not only did his harsh words sting, it was incredibly heartbreaking to realize what you had been doing, and how it affected him.
you decided to walk out of the bar, spencer heading after you. the cold air hit your face, shivering at the sudden contact with your skin.
“please- y/n” spencer pleaded. barging out the bar chasing after you.
“spencer, i get it, i’m sorry” you yelled, a bit more loudly than you’d like. you felt frustrated at the fact that he thought you were simply making fun of him. he was your person, quiet console in the middle of the night, there when you most needed him. of course you inevitably fell stupidly in love with him.
“i don’t do any of those things to hurt you. i would never do anything to hurt you, and spencer, i’m so sorry if i did. i’m in love with you. and not just in a best friend way, in a way in which i want my bed to feel empty when you’re not there, i want to be able to kiss you and say how gorgeous you are in any given moment. and- i’m sorry if you don’t feel the same but i-“ you sighed, exasperated and out of breath from the drunken confession.
a minute passed and it felt more like eternity as you awaited for his response, or at least a sign of rejection or approval, anything.
“well, say something!” you threw your hands up in the air, breathing out.
spencer’s mouth opened to talk but nothing came out. he was still coming to terms with your reciprocated feelings toward him. and then his mind began to spiral, it all went downhill from there.
his palms began to sweat despite the cold breeze that sent shivers down your spine.
“i’m in love with you too. i love you, and i have for quite some time” he spoke too calmly, as if he was warning you about what was to come next.
“but we can’t be together. not right now. not with me.” he spoke crudely, trying to distance himself from you, hesitation coursing through his veins. he couldn’t blame the alcohol this time after the confession sobered him up. he was scared, but the terror that came from the idea of losing you because of him? no. even if you were eternally infuriated with him, at least you weren’t in front of him with a gun to your head.
you swallow a lump in your throat, making it hard to speak, hard to breathe.
“but, why?” you ask, awaiting for a worthy response that justified the worst sentence he could’ve ever uttered: ‘we can’t be together’.
“we can’t. it’s too difficult, my job is too difficult.” he had placed an invisible barrier between the two of you. refusing to look at you, and the damage he’d done.
‘There was danger in the heat of my touch
He saw forever so he smashed it up’
“but-“ you were rudely interrupted by the sound of the bar door opening, presenting a very drunken group of people. who just so happened to be your friends, watching you and spencer have this tense conversation, or at least the aftermath of it.
you closed your eyes for a few seconds, trying to regain your composure. spencer and hotch were the designated drivers. you decided to head home in the car where the driver wasn’t the guy you had just confessed to and had given you a pathetic response. you could see spencer look at you as you got into the car, a puzzling expression hard to decode on his face.
‘my boy only breaks his favorite toys.’
as you headed home, the quiet voice ringed in the back of your head, threatening to call him. for you to insist on a worthy response, an explanation to his unwillingness. instead you just laid in bed, your covers acting as a shield to everything in the exterior that could hurt you. you still wished that your bed felt empty. and that spencer would be the missing piece.
‘and I'll tell you that he runs
because he loves me.
cause you should've seen him, when he first saw me.’
taglist: @ilovesadiesink @sp3ncelle
*comment to be added!*
#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid#spencer reid angst#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds#criminal minds fic
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Character Introductions
(yes, I know I should've done this before the first part was posted but I didn't so y'all get it now)
-------------------
Nika Mühl as herself
Height: 5’11
Age: 20
School/Team: University of Connecticut (UConn), UConn Women’s Basketball Team (#10), Croatia (#10)
Nicknames: Mühl, Love, Secretary Of Defense, Pookie (only by Paige)
Nationality: Croatian
Instagram: nika.muhl
Alt: nikalovesbball
“I don’t like her like that, we’re just friends, nothing more.”
“I don’t know what I want yet, but I do know that I want it with you. Not someone like you, it’s you that I want.”
“You know, I was always a Chelsea fan.”
You as Yourself (shhh, just imagine.)
Height: Tall as fuck
Age: 18
School/Team: Harvard, Harvard Women’s Soccer Team (#10), England WNT (#10/2+8)
Nicknames: Grumpy, Kid/Kiddo, Troll Child (Leah), Baby, Tiny (only by Paige), Captain
Nationality: English
Instagram: y/n.y/l/n
Alt: norflondonforever
“North London forever, whatever the weather, these streets are our own.”
“I want a beach house in Barcelona, with the most amazing view of the water. And maybe a dog, or a cat. And I want to run a small surf shop at the corner of the beach, hidden away from everything. That’s what my legacy will be, just you me and our beach house in Barca.”
“Sorry coach, I gotta go see ‘bout a girl.”
Gabbi Broussard as Emma 'Em' Whitmore
Height: 5’9
Age: 20
School/Team: Harvard, Harvard Women’s Soccer Team (#18), USWNT (#28)
Nicknames: Em, Emily, Emma Hayes (only by you to annoy her), Ugly
Nationality: American/Canadian
Instagram: emwhit18
Alt: thebetterwhitmore
“Cal’s not scary, he looks like the rat from Flushed Away.”
“I think you need to stop thinking about what everyone else wants and start thinking about what you want. This situation, it’s not your fault that you caught feelings, but it is your fault that you’re pushing her away, so man the fuck up and do the right thing.”
“Will you stop singing that already?”
Callum Turner as Callum 'Cal' Whitmore
Height: 6’4
Age: 23
School/Team: University of Connecticut (UConn), UConn Men’s Basketball Team(#26), US Men’s Basketball(#22)
Nicknames: Cal, Gollum, The Rat from Flushed Away
Nationality: American/Canadian
Instagram: callumwhitmore
Alt: nottheratfromflushedaway
“I don’t look like the fucking rat from Flushed Away, stop telling people that.”
“Em, dad called, he said shut up.”
“Watching you trying to flirt is the single most embarrassing thing I’ve ever done.”
Robert Sean Leonard as Coach 'Dad' Daniels
Height: 6’0
Age: 66
School/Team: Head Coach of Harvard Women’s Soccer Team
Nicknames: Coach, Dad, Coach Dad, Pops, Ancient Being
Nationality: American
Instagram: headcoachdaniels
Alt: doesn’t have one, he’s too much of an old fart
“It’s called intermittent fasting, look it up, you should try it sometime.”
“No, for the last time, me and Coach Hansen aren’t secretly married with two dogs, you all need less free time to come up with theories like that, this isn’t dead poet’s society. Extra training sessions the whole week out.”
“Are those hickeys? Okay ladies, when you want to have sex make sure to cover up the evidence after, I do not need to know more about your intimate lives than I already do.”
Ethan Hawke as Coach Hansen
Height: 5’11
Age: 62
School/team: Harvard Men’s Soccer Team Head Coach
Nicknames: Coach Daniels’ Husband, Dad #2, Mr. Sir
Nationality: American/British
Instagram: headcoachhansen
Alt: an old fart like his husband, so no alt for him
“So you kids thought you’d get a different answer from me than from Coach Daniels? Why are you kids so incessant on trying to find out if we’re together or not.”
“Don’t tell anyone, but I kissed Coach Daniels last night. It was like something straight out of a movie, something so poetic about it.”
“This is Buddy, me and Coach Daniels adopted him so that he could be our mascot. No other reason.”
Paige Bueckers as herself
Height: 6’0
Age: 20
School/Team: University of Connecticut (UConn), UConn Women’s Basketball Team (#5), USA Women’s Basketball Team (#5)
Nicknames: PBuckets, PB&J, The Third Jonas Brother
Nationality: American
Instagram: paigebueckers
Alt: p5buckets
“I’ll beat you on Fifa all day every day.”
“God Nika, admit it, you like her. I can see it from a mile away and this thing you’re doing, this back and forth, will they won’t they, is going to hurt you both in the end. All I’m suggesting is that you evaluate what you want from this relationship and then take it from there.”
“I’m always right, it’s scientifically impossible for me to be wrong.”
Leah Williamson as herself
Height: 5’7
Age: 25
School/Team: Arsenal Women’s Team (#6), England WNT (#6/8/5)
Nicknames: Lee, Will, Spurs Nr 1 Fan, Oldie, Capi
Nationality: English
Instagram: leahwilliamsonn
Alt: will.i.am.son
“I’M NOT A SPURS FAN, STOP SAYING THAT.”
“Y’know in all the time I’ve known you kid, I’ve never seen you this enamoured with someone, you’re so in love it’s making me sick.”
“You’re like the little sister I never had.”
Lucy Bronze as herself
Height: 5’7
Age: 30
School/Team: FC Barcelona Femení (#15), England WNT (#2)
Nicknames: Lucia, Robert, Luce, Prehistoric Being, Dad
Nationality: English/Portuguese
Instagram: lucybronze
Alt: bronzesilvergold
“Ugh, the ladies just love me don’t they.”
“I’m down with the lingo, I’ve got so much rizz that the boomers come running. Cowabunga.”
“Love is…love is effortless, it makes you feel all jittery and when you’re around them you feel like you can do anything. You’ll know it once you feel it kid, don’t try to rush the process, let it wash over you like the waves at the beach.”
Everyone else as themselves, also the other's alt instagrams will explained when they appear
#woso#woso x reader#lionesses#arsenal wfc#woso imagines#wbb x reader#uconn wbb#nika muhl#nika muhl x reader#10/10 series#harvard women's soccer team
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School Dance (Charlie Walker) NSFW
Tags: @wildathevrt @romanroyapoligist @444rockstargf @nevvdrinksteaa @hxllhxund @urmomsucksfrogs
Summary: you decide to go to the school dance with high expectations that weren't met until you left with School Cinema Nerd, Charlie Walker.
Warnings: NSFW, unprotected p in v, fingering, male receiving oral, praising, drug use, and I think that's it!
the school dance was moving slower than a fucking car without a battery and you were just about ready to leave until you spotted Charlie standing alone in the back of the gym. you approached him, curious as to why he was even here. usually, school dances weren’t his scene. parties, gatherings with lots of alcohol sure.. but school dances?? too tame for the cinema junkie.
“Charlie Walker.” you spoke matter of factly. “y/n?” he uttered, confused. “didn’t think school dances were your thing.” you told him as you leaned against the wall next to him and scanned the gym. “they’re not in all honesty. this one certainly isn’t.” he sighed, tossing his cup out in the nearest garbage can. “so why come? I thought if someone wasn't puking their guts out in a fern it wasn't the Charlie Walker scene.” you asked him, averting your gaze towards him. “I was hoping I was missing something about dances. I don’t know I got my hopes up I guess, but this totally bummed me out.” he answered, shifting in place, unable to laugh at my joke.
you both stood quiet for a moment. he looked over at you before looking back at the crowd. “you look good tonight.” he tried to sound confident but the nervousness slipped through. “thanks, nerd. has anyone spiked the punch yet?” you asked, crossing your arm across your chest. “not that I’ve heard. I should have known tonight was gonna be a dud when not even Robbie wanted to come.” he said and began walking out. you watched him and decided to follow him out. “wanna come to the woods with me and smoke?” you suggested, flashing the joint in your purse. he nodded. “thank god.” his eyes lit up.
when the two of you were far enough from civilization you took a seat on a log and began lighting the joint. “y/n to the rescue huh?” you said while concentrating on the lighter. "I'm definitely the final girl right now." he said causing you both to giggle. “I’m hoping this makes my night at least a little better.” he said, taking it from your hand and taking a drag. “so why were you at the dance?” he asked, handing the joint back to you. “uhh okay this might sound embarrassing but I thought I could help make the dance a little more exciting.. but I swear the school gym’s atmosphere refuses to let people let loose..” you giggled, taking a few hits and tapping out the ash.
when the weed began taking its effects the both of you just stared at each other, letting a giggle slip through every once in a while. “fuck I love weed.” you said, leaning on Charlie causing him to erupt into laughter. “you act like you’ve never smoked before.” he said, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his dress pants. “no I’ve been smoking for a while now I just like to appreciate the weed.” you smiled blissfully. "I suppose that makes sense for you." he lit a cigarette and took a drag before offering it to you. you took up the offer and puffed. “you know Charlie... I’ve always thought you were cute. that nerdy thing is really working for you.” you said as you handed him the cigarette. “yeah? i guess the feelings mutual.” he smiled.
you leaned in and kissed him. “ever had sex before, nerd?” you whispered. he smiled “Not yet no.” he answered bashfully. “do you want to?” you asked as you straddled him. he nodded frantically. “i- just don’t know what to do.” he admitted, sheepishly. “touch me wherever you want, nerdy boy.” you said as you began placing wet kisses on his neck. you took in the smell of his cologne that caused you to soak your panties. he roughly shoved a hand under your dress. “gentle. you’re going to hurt me.” you whispered as you caught his hand. “mhm.” he uttered, melting under your lips. “touch me here.” you directed him to your clit and he began rubbing slow circles. “that’s it just like that. you smell so good Charlie.” you tell him, stifling your moans.
he slipped a finger into your cunt and curled it while he pressed his thumb to your clit. “you’re doing so good Charlie.” you told him as your grip on the back of his neck tightened. your lips now an inch away as you both breathed heavily. “I really need you.” you said as you stood up to unbutton his pants. “I’ve been waiting for this for like ever.” he laughed, in shock as he watched you softly pull his dick out of his pants and slowly slip it in your heat where his fingers once were. “yeah? you dream about fucking me?” you asked the nerd as you watched his brain shortcircuit. “always.” he fought the words out. “fuck I’m so horny for you Charlie.” you let out as you grind your hips down, feeling the gentle movements of him inside you, filling you up perfectly. "I wish you'd said something sooner." he managed out between low groans.
“I think I’m close Charlie.” you spit the words out as you clenched around him, your body spasming lightly at every thrust. “cum for me?” he whispered as he gripped your hips. As you felt yourself chasing your orgasm Charlie began to talk you through it. “shhh baby it’s okay yeah cum all over me.” he muttered sweetly, leaving kisses all over your cleavage, lewd sounds of your skin slapping together. your moans staggered as you collapsed on him. “fuck, walker.. that might have been the best dick I’ve ever had.” you joked as he rubbed your back. “I’m not finished, y/n.” he spoke as he helped you stand up and guided you to your knees. “suck me off baby.” he growled and you listened, kissing up his shaft and wrapping your lips around his cock and maintaining eye contact. “you look so pretty sucking my cock like that, princess.” he caressed your face.
you began deep-throating his length, gagging and gargling, sending shivers through his body. "yeah just like that." he moaned, his head flying back. "fuck." he let out before shooting hot ropes of cum down your throat, swallowing every drop before standing up and kissing him. "I guess you knew what you were doing after all?" you said, licking the slick off your lips. "porn is a thing, y/n... I improvised.. anyway I'd really like to improvise again yeah?" he said before you both gathered your things and walked out of the woods together. "yeah... I'd like that."
A/N: i hope you guys liked this one lol I've noticed that I haven't really gotten many fics on my timeline and that topped with like 4 people saying their rory obsession was over lowkey sad so here you go sillies
#rory culkin#ahs#ahsfx#fanfic#jimmy darling#rory culkin characters#me when rory#spotify#ahs fanfiction#clyde electrick children#evan peters icons#chris evans#evan peters#evan peters edit#evan peters fandom#evan peters smut#jimmy darling fluff#tatelangdon#tate langdon#tate and violet#tate langdon fluff#colin shea#adult world#clipping adam#rory culkin fanfic#rory monahan#rory x reader#ahs roanoke#american horror story coven#i ❤️ rory culkin
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your writing makes me feel safe, thank you. if i could request something? it’s totally ok if you aren’t comfortable but i was wondering how you think seventeen would react seeing their s/o’s self harm scars? but not the act of doing it; i’ve just been feeling a bit unworthy because of my own from my past and my mind wandered (but absolutely no worries if this is out of your comfort zone. i know self harm scars can be a trigger for sure (and you don’t have to reply in that case either)) <3 thank you either way
thank you for sharing kind words and requesting! i'm sorry for taking over a year to answer this... hopefully you still see this >.< i also hope my interpretation of your request is ok. sending you all my love 🥺 i hope you’ve been feeling better these days. you’re deserving of all the good things
seventeen: seeing your self harm scars for the first time
tw: mentions of self harming (no details of the act itself) and scars
seungcheol: he’d trace them with his lips, allowing his love to sink into the scars and caress their edges. he’d ask if they still hurt—if the memories are still piercing
jeonghan: “you turned your scar into a butterfly?” “yeah, it always made sense to get a tattoo, and it’s a reminder that pain and discomfort are fleeting. i’m never stuck.” “you’ve always had a thing for flying, haven’t you?” “yoon jeonghan, i’d exchange my arms for wings if i could.” “you’ll need me for so much more than reaching things on the highest shelf.” “you’re right… not the most practical idea.”
joshua: walks with you through the park after seeing the small x on the kitchen calendar, marking the passage of another year, and the feeling is overwhelming as painful memories flood your mind
jun: “so these aren’t from a bike wreck?” “i can’t believe you remember that…” “everything you tell me… i can’t forget anything.” “it was only our second date. i didn’t want to scare you away.” “you wouldn’t have, but i understand why you worried. i wish you didn’t have to.” “what do you think you would’ve said? would’ve thought?” “i would’ve admired you. i can’t imagine that’s an easy thing to share with anyone, let alone a person you just started dating. i would’ve felt honored that you trusted me with something so… intimate, something that leaves room for conclusions being made that you aren’t in control of.”
soonyoung: he asks if you’re ok now and immediately wonders if that was too simplistic of a question, but he means it. he wants to know if you wake up and feel peace or dread. he wants to know about the cracks in your smile. he wants to know if you’re proud of yourself now. if you were before. if he can do anything to make the dreadful moments with forced smiles easier
wonwoo: thank you for being here is the last thing you hear before drifting off, carried away by a current of warm dreams
jihoon: he cries for you and his childhood friend with similar scars. a man he hasn’t seen in years but thinks about the last week of every october—reminded of his birthday, hoping he’s celebrating well
seokmin: he holds you. he doesn’t want to let go until his tears have stopped. he doesn’t want you to know that the thought of you harming yourself pierces his heart, stops his breath, stays heavy on his shoulders, and keeps him awake while you sleep
mingyu: he wants you to know that no feeling you meet will ever scare him away. you don’t need the reminder, but he tells you anyway: you can always come to me. he will be your solid ground, the maker of comforting words and sweet distractions
minghao: will you believe him if he says you’re the strongest person he knows?
hansol: he doesn’t know what to say, and he’s suddenly afraid of his ability to support you. he hopes you can’t tell because this moment isn’t about him. the last thing he’d ever want is for you to turn to another if he’s unable to give you what you need. “it’s ok. you don’t have to have the perfect words. they don’t exist. i just want you to know. i’m so much better now. i’ve never been happier, truly, but the words were starting to itch and pull me out of present moments. summer’s coming, and i know you’ll see them soon. i just want you to know.”
seungkwan: so many questions roll around in his head. they stick to the back of his throat, and he searches your eyes for any signs of the capacity you have for sharing in this moment. you smile softly and offer a nod of encouragement. he takes a deep breath and asks the first one
chan: “do you ever…” “think about doing it again? i do, but i made a list of things to do instead.” “can i hear it?” “make tea, watch the sky, turn music on, call a friend, think about something yummy to make for my next meal, ride the train and stop as close as i can get to the library… i have a playlist of seventeen videos on my phone too.” “you’ve thought about it that recently? y/n…” “i didn’t make the playlist for that purpose alone. it started out of missing you, but i know it’ll help if i start to slip.” “you can always call me. call me first and call again if i don’t answer.”
#seventeen scenarios#seventeen imagines#seventeen blurbs#seventeen fluff#seungcheol scenarios#jeonghan scenarios#joshua scenarios#jun scenarios#soonyoung scenarios#wonwoo scenarios#jihoon scenarios#seokmin scenarios#mingyu scenarios#minghao scenarios#hansol scenarios#seungkwan scenarios#chan scenarios
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Vampire- J. Guilbert (prologue)
pairing: Princess!reader x Vampire!Johnnie
classification: SMUT, fluff, slight angst, vampire AU
inspiration: request1, request2, Vampire by Johnnie Guilbert
warnings: 18+, MDNI, literal sex; mentions of mortality, biting, blood, parental death, death, killing; set in 14th-17th century Renaissance, pretty modern dialogue tbh, sub!Johnnie (kinda?), use of Y/n
summary: You take your relationship with Johnnie, your vampire lover, one step further.
Vampire PT.1
—
Autumn leaves crunch against your shoes as you walk through the castle garden. Beautiful red and white roses line the outer walls, each one beginning to die due to the cold temperature the season has brought.
You take a fleeting look behind you, footsteps quickening as you follow the row of roses to the garden’s outer gate. If anyone were to see or follow you, you’d have to save your escape for another day.
Luckily, no one is watching. The guards are too busy patrolling the front of the castle, your father is in a neighboring village, Bernadette is completing her chores, and your mother is deeply immersed in literature in the castle library.
Your hand pushes against the big, rusty gate. You hold your breath and wince when the metal creaks, examining your surroundings one last time before slipping through the crack.
The ground is soft, dead leaves and fog hiding your feet as they trudge through the mud.
“Johnnie?” you whisper shout, your delicate hand supporting itself against a tree. No response, just a howling gush of wind.
You decide to hike further, knowing that Johnnie hates meeting you close to the castle. After walking for some minutes, you find yourself in a clearing.
Moonlight shines through the gaps between the branches and the meadow’s bioluminescent moss glows with every footstep.
“Johnnie?” you try again, only raising your volume slightly.
You wait for a response, or to see his figure approach from within the forest, but all you hear is a coyote crying in the distance.
Every 3 days you venture out into the forest. Sometimes he shows, sometimes he doesn’t; it’s something that he’s explained to you time and time again. He’s a vampire, viewed as a predator by the rest of the world, and when he has villagers coming after him it just isn’t safe to meet you.
He’d never forgive himself if anything ever happened to you, and you know that, but it doesn’t hurt any less.
You’re about to give up and walk back home, when cold fingers swoop your long hair to one side. Johnnie’s lips find your skin, trailing kisses from your shoulder to the soft spot behind your ear
“I’m here, Princess,” he murmurs.
A smile forms on your face as your head falls back onto his shoulder. His arms have wrapped around your waist, holding you in place firmly as he continues feathering kisses all over your exposed skin.
“I’ve missed you, my love,” his breath fans against you, sending shivers down your spine. “I’ve missed you more,” you reply, and it’s true.
You turn to face him, warm hands delicately landing on his face. He’s so beyond beautiful, especially under the soft moonlight.
Your eyes dance over his face, watching as his fangs twinkle when he smiles. Most women would be running away in fear at the sight, but it only makes your knees buckle.
“3 days is too long.” His voice is still quiet, almost like he’s afraid someone is lurking nearby, ready to save you from a monster like him.
“You could just come visit me in the castle after everyone’s fallen asleep,” you suggest. His face was slowly inching towards yours, but he stops in his tracks at your comment.
“Y/n,” he warns, using your actual name instead of a pet name.
“We’ve been over this.”
“I know— it’s just— I miss you.” The last part sounds more defeated than you’d like.
“It’s not like we have forever, you know,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around your waist for some comfort. He knows that your time together is limited, and he hates that you’re constantly reminding him.
“Don’t start this again. Please,” he pleads. You only have a few hours together before the sun rises and he’s forced back into hiding, he doesn’t want to spend those fleeting moments arguing.
“You’re right. I’m sorry,” you say, your voice breaking slightly at the end. You’re close to breaking down into tears and he knows it.
“Y/n.” He pulls your gaze to his by your chin. Your eyes are glossy, a heartbreaking sight.
“I promise it won’t always be like this,” he says, not breaking eye contact. You’re not sure you believe him, mainly because of the ticking time bomb that is your mortality, but you want to believe him.
“Promise?” Your eyes hold so much hope.
“Promise.” He pulls your face in, finally kissing you after what seems like forever.
It’s slow and passionate, your lips moulding together at a steady rhythm. His hand holds a firm grip of your face, the other resting on your hip and pulling you closer to him.
You’re wearing a simple dress that contrasts your usual, elaborate gowns. So, as he pulls you in, you feel his erection pokes your lower abdomen. Subconsciously, his hips grind against you and a strained sound escapes his throat. He pulls away from the kiss, forehead flush against yours.
“What’s wrong?” you asks. His hand still holds your face and yours travels up to hold it, caressing his skin with your thumb.
“I should just— you should just go home,” he says, attempting to pull away from you completely, but you manage to keep him there. It’s surprising how someone so strong can be so weak when they’re in love.
“What? Why? We still have a couple hours left before the sun rises.”
“Because it’s dangerous out here. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
You roll your eyes. “No one is out here, Johnnie.”
He’s quiet. His mind his racing as he fights against his sinful thoughts. What he wants is to make love to you under the soft moonlight, but he’s worried that once he gets a taste of you, he won’t be able to control himself.
“Tell me what’s really wrong,” you say, pulling his hand off of your face to place gentle kisses on his knuckles.
“I’m just… I’m scared,” he admits. It’s an embarrassing confession coming from him, someone who doesn’t have to worry about anything other than what his next meal is gonna be.
You urge him to continue with your eyes.
“You do things to me that I can’t explain. I feel things that I’m not sure I can control when I’m around you.” Confusion is written all over your face.
“Here.” He guides your hand down to his erection, letting it cup his member over the fabric of his pants. “That’s what you do to me,” he gulps, struggling to hold himself back.
The feeling of your small hand wrapped around him is already excruciating enough, and the images that his imagination creates don’t help either.
“Johnnie,” you begin, already sounding breathless. A wetness grows between your thighs, and they subconsciously press together to relieve some tension.
“You’re not going to hurt me.” He appreciates the reassurance, but he’s still uncertain.
“I don’t want to risk it,” he replies through gritted teeth. His eyes clench shut when you begin massaging him, dick twitching and begging for release.
“Let me make you feel good. We can stop if it becomes too much,” you whisper, inching your face closer to his until your breath fans against his lips.
Your lips are ghosting his, barely grazing as he replies, “What if I can’t control myself? What if I hurt you?”
“You won’t. I know you won’t.”
Finally you close the gap between you two, opening your mouth to give him the access he’s been craving. It’s a sloppy, needy kiss fueled with passion and hunger. Your tongues battle for dominance, each lap mixed with moans and whimpers.
There’s a large tree stump in the middle of the clearing and you slowly guide Johnnie towards it by his hips. He walks backwards until his calves hit the bark, knees bending, causing him to sit.
His arms wrap around your waist, holding you like you’re his most prized possession as he stares up at you in awe. “I’m in control, okay?” you say, kissing him again before allowing your dress to fall past your shoulders and onto the ground.
Immediately, he tenses, feeling his animal instincts overcome him. The hunger is painful, so painful that his grip around you tightens. You’re not wearing a bra or panties, a beautiful sight that causes his pupils to dilate.
“Hey, look at me,” you say gently. “You’re not going to hurt me.”
Johnnie nods his head, allowing his eyes to dance over your body. You’re so beautiful; your round breasts bouncing slightly with your every movement and your curvy hips swaying as you position yourself between his thighs.
He can’t take it anymore, he needs to taste you. You gasp as Johnnie suddenly takes your left nipple in his mouth, gently sucking and licking on your sensitive nub.
“I really, really need you,” he rasps against your skin. “I know baby. I know,” you reply through a strained moan. Your hand finds his hair and pull him impossibly closer to you.
His lips travel from your nipple to the valley of your breasts, kissing licking his way down to your belly button. “You’re so beautiful.”
You’re about to reply but his mouth feverishly makes its way back to yours before you can, engulfing your lips in a steamy makeout session that has you whimpering. You can feel him trying to take control, and if you want this night to go well, that can’t happen.
So, you make work of his pants and underwear in between kisses, tugging at the fabric until it pools on the ground around his ankles. His penis springs free, slapping against his stomach.
“Remember who’s in control,” you remind him through the kiss.
He takes a deep breath, resting his forehead against your chest as he attempts to compose himself; to measure his strength as you two venture into uncharted territory.
You play with his hair, giving him the time he needs before pushing him back onto the tree stump until he’s laying on his back. Slowly, you crawl over him until you’re straddling his lap.
You lean down to his ear, placing a few open mouth kisses on the nape of his neck as you whisper, “We’re gonna take this slow, okay?”
“I—” he begins, cutting himself off.
“We can stop if you want to.”
“I don’t want to stop,” he says, “and that’s the problem because…”
“Because if I were to hurt you, Y/n, I don’t think I’d ever forgive myself. I’m struggling to keep my composure and we haven’t even done anything yet. If I get too carried away, pull me back into reality with you. Please,” he pleads the last part, tentative hands coming to rest on your hips. His touch is gentle, but firm.
You don’t respond, instead you nod your head and take his cock into your hands, dragging it up and down your slick folds before lining it with your entrance. His grip on your waist tightens as you begin to sink down on him, he clenches his jaw and watches tentatively as you take him without complaint.
A small moan escapes your lips at the stretch, your hands falling onto his chest for support. His skin is ice cold, a sensation that you quickly welcome. Johnnie fights to keep his composure, teeth digging so far into his lip that he’s drawing blood.
“Ready?” you ask sweetly. Johnnie responds by bucking his hips upwards, ensuring not to get too lost in the feeling.
He’s amazed that someone as delicate as you can hold this much power over him. He’s putty in your hands, he can’t remember the last time he felt this submissive.
You take the hint and begin moving up and down on his cock, bracing yourself with hands on his chest and knees on either side of his hips.
Johnnie’s grip on your waist is getting impossibly tighter, and if you weren’t so immersed in the pleasure, you might’ve registered the pain.
Your boobs bounce with your every movement, placing Johnnie in a lust filled trance. Your hair falls over one of your shoulders, swaying back and forth under the soft moonlight.
“Sit up please,” you command, your voice strained. Johnnie does as he’s told, and immediately you guide his face towards your breast. He’s hesitant at first, but the look you give him is enough to convince him that he can keep himself from taking a delicious bite from you.
His lips wrap around your left nipple as you continue bouncing up and down on his member. He’s completely lost in the euphoric feeling of you wrapped around him, a strong arm tightening around your figure.
“Johnnie,” you moan, your voice bringing him back to reality. He loosens his grip and brings you in for a kiss, drunkenly moulding his mouth against yours as you continue whimpering into his mouth.
His tongue swipes your bottom lip, begging for entrance so he can taste you. One of your moans serves as the perfect opportunity for him to slip his tongue in your mouth, drenching you like his existence depended on it.
Your tongue grazes one of his fangs, cutting you just enough for him to taste your blood. You feel the prick, but continue bouncing on his cock without paying too much attention.
“You’re doing so good, just like I knew you would,” you speak into the kiss. He loves the praise, especially because he just tasted your blood for the first time and can easily say he’s already addicted to
The position you were currently in was amazing, but your knees were starting to hurt and you really wanted to see what he’d look like from on top of you.
You hop off of him, earning a wince from him from the lack of contact. You lay back on the tree stump, innertwining your hand in his as you guide him over you. He follows your lead, immediately returning to the heated makeout session from before.
Slowly, he positions himself between your legs and lines himself up with your entrance. “Are you sure?” he asks breathlessly. This position gives him all the power, and he’s not sure he’ll be able to stop himself even if you try pulling him back to reality.
But you’re not scared of him, you never have been and you never could be. “Yes, my love. I’m sure.”
He looks beautiful on top of you, everything about his dark aura luring you in. Johnnie slowly sinks himself into you, one of his hands gripping the edge of the tree stump. The bark is rough against his fingers as he applies a pressure so powerful that it cracks the aged wood.
His thrusts are slow at first as he tries setting a manageable pace, but as he continues his eyes cloud with lust and desire and he begins pounding into you. The sound of your skin slapping together and your moans echo through the forest, his tip kissing your cervix every time.
His forehead is flush against yours. Johnnie loves you so much and it’s evident in the way his red eyes never break eye contact, despite the intensity of his movements.
He’s fighting against his strength to stop himself from breaking you in half, because if he really wanted to he could.
You keep bucking your hips into his as you chase your pending orgasm. Johnnie’s head falls onto your shoulder, grunts and groans fanning against your neck as his other hand pushes your hips down.
Your skin was sure to bruise, but none of that mattered right now. All that mattered was the feeling of his pelvis rubbing against your clit, bringing you dangerously close to your climax.
“I’m close!” you squeak.
Johnnie continues to snap his hips into you, fangs grazing your skin ever so slightly. He wants to do it; to take a bite of you, but he’s willing himself not to.
You wrap a leg around his waist, pulling him in until all he can do is roll his hips against you. Your pussy flutters around his cock as your orgasm washes over you.
The feeling of your spongy, warm walls clenching around him is enough to send him over the edge. His unmatched strength breaks yet another piece of the tree. He needed to occupy his mouth, so he’s latching onto your neck and sucking until the skin is bruised.
“I love you,” he murmurs through his orgasm, repeating the sentence so many times that it’s engraved in your mind.
Your voice is choppy as you try catching your breath, “I love you too.”
—
The next morning you wake up on a comfortable mattress surrounded by expensive pillows and a billowy comforter, but you wish you were still in the forest with Johnnie.
The night replays in your mind as you rub the sleep out of your eyes. A yawn escapes your lips as you stretch.
Suddenly you feel a throbbing pain on your waist. Your fingers trail down to the sensitive skin and you wince once they make contact.
Slowly, you throw the comforter to the side and walk over to your vanity. You bunch the fabric of your nightgown up against your breasts as you examine yourself in the mirror.
Your skin was lined with bruises so purple they were almost black. Quickly, you adjust your dress and make a mental note not to let Johnnie see them. You wouldn’t see him for another three days anyways, that was enough time for you to heal, right? Wrong.
Three days have passed and your bruises have only become more sensitive. They’re easy to hide when you’re home, mostly because you wear dresses so big that no one would ever notice them. The hickeys on your neck were masked with makeup and hidden behind your long hair.
You decide to stay home, because you know that Johnnie will somehow find out about the secret you hide under your clothes.
Just as you’re getting ready for bed, a sudden gush of wind blows past you. Johnnie enters through your bedroom window, looking around your room in a panicked frenzy until his eyes land on your figure.
“Johnnie?” you question in surprise. “Thank God you’re okay,” he sighs in relief, immediately walking over to you.
“You didn’t come to visit me,” he whispers sadly, “Why?”
When he waited in the clearing, and you never appeared, his mind raced with every and any possibly. Did someone hurt you? Was your kingdom under attack? Did you regret that night?
“I’ve just been really tired,” you say. It’s a lame excuse, but you hope he believes it.
“Did I do something wrong?” Johnnie’s hands land on your hips. You immediately wince, but try masking it with a cough. It’s no use though, he notices right away.
Johnnie bawls the fabric of your nightgown in his hands, ready to expose whatever you’re hiding. “Wait! No, Johnnie—” you try pushing him away, buts he’s so strong that he barely moves.
He wastes no time in lifting your nightgown, revealing the bruises that he left on your skin just three nights ago.
“I promise they’re worse than they look,” you try and reason, but he’s not hearing any of it. His jaw is clenched, eyes trained on the horrific colors that blend across your skin.
“Never again,” he grits, letting the fabric of your dress fall back down. It felt like a shameful curtain, you wanted to rip it off and crawl into bed.
“What?!” your voice cracks.
“You heard me. Never again. If that’s what I did with my hands, imagine what would’ve happened if I lost control.”
“But I can take it—”
“Yeah? You think you’ll be saying that when my fangs inevitably find their way to your neck?” he snaps, his tone so harsh that it slaps against your ears.
“So then turn me,” you reply. Everything always seemed so simple to you, but becoming a vampire wasn’t something he ever wanted you to experience.
“Don’t,” he warns.
“Why not, Johnnie? Huh? Why not? Are we just going to continue having this same conversation until the day I die? Do you think I asked for the bruises? All I wanted was to love you, but if I’m going to continue getting hurt then why not just turn me?”
He remains silent, watching as the tears brim your eyes.
“I can’t live in a world where I don’t get to love you, to properly love you,” your voice is hushed, tears streaming down your face as you sit on the edge of your bed. “It isn’t fair.”
“I’m a monster, Y/n. All I do is hurt everything and everyone I love. Trust me, you don’t want to love someone like me,” he spits. His words completely contradict what he truly feels.
“I didn’t ask to love you, Johnnie. I just... do.” You sound so defeated.
He sighs, kneeling front of you and trying to catch your gaze. “I love you too, Y/n. That’s why this hurts me so much. I don’t want to be the reason for your pain, even if it is accidental. I want to protect you so that I can love you for as long as possible. Do you understand that?”
“Then love me,” you plead, “What’s the point of protecting me if you’re not staying true to your promise? We’re running out of time, Johnnie. Everyday I wake up a little older and a little closer to death, so please just love me. Love me despite our differences. Love me even if you think I’m weak.”
You bring him in for a kiss, one that is so passionate that he can’t find it in himself to pull away. You lean back onto the bed, pulling him with you until he’s laying on top of you.
“Princess, please.”
“Just love me.” You murmur against his lips, and just like that he’s making love to you under the soft candlelight that illuminates your room.
From that moment forward, Johnnie has vowed to love you everyday like it’s your last.
—
MASTERLIST
A/n: thanks for being patient with me guys, ily! Also I hope you enjoy this anon (requests are linked) I haven’t proofread this so be gentle with me guys 🥹 I’ll proofread it mañana
- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗
—
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#teapartyanonreqs✨💗#johnnie guilbert fic#johnnie guilbert fanfiction#johnnie one shot#johnnie guilbert oneshot#johnnie#johnnie guilbert fluff#johnnie guilbert x reader#johnnie guilbert fanfic#johnnie guilbert smut#johnnie guilbert#jake and johnnie#johnnie guilbert <3#johnnie guilbert headcannons#johnnie guilbert x y/n#jake webber x y/n#jake webber x you#johnnie and jake#jake webber angst#jake webber one shots#jake webber fanfiction#jake webber fanfic#jake webber smut#jake webber x reader#jake webber#johnnie guilbert x you#johnnie guilbert angst#johnnie guilbert and jake webber#i love my emo boyfriend#2000s emo
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you'll be ok
jason grace x fem!reader
Authors note: I haven’t written in a while I’m sorry if this is meh also it’s in y/n (you perspective)!
Warnings: None
syn: jason is feeling overwhelmed with who he should be and who he wants to be.
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It was midnight as the Argo ii sailed across the seas. The night was beautiful. The waters reflected the jittery stars in the sky. Jason sat at the edge of the ship, his head on his knee. He looked as he felt, troubled and a sense of confusion. All these made up memories, feeling more at home at a different camp than where he was raised. He felt conflicted on what he should feel.
Y/N restlessly flipped in her bed. It was like this lately. Not being able to sleep until the cracks of dawn. She sighed heavily, grabbed a blanket and got up and made her way down the halls of the Argo II. Small snores and swoons were heard in the dark hallway. She noticed one door was open, Jason’s. She mentally noted that and went up the stairs leading to the outside of the ship. As her eyes adjusted to the night light she noticed the blonde guy missing from his quarters sat at the bow of the ship. She made her way over to him and noticed he looked distressed and deep in thought.
“H-hey Jason,” You said. Jason slightly jumped at the sound of her voice, startled that someone else was up at this time of night.
“Sorry sorry didn’t mean to make you jump!” Y/N exclaimed.
Jason patted next to him acknowledging for her to sit, “no please sit down I’m sorry I just wasn’t expecting anyone else out here.”
You furrowed your eyebrows, “are- are you ok?”
Jason smiled softly, “yes- no I’m ok I don’t want to burden you.”
Y/N slapped his shoulder lightly, “you can never ever burden me Jason. Whatever is bothering you, you can talk to me ok? I’m here for you, always.”
Jason sighed and rubbed a hand on the back of his neck, “I’ve just been feeling stressed ever since leaving Camp Jupiter and the Argo II accidentally attacking there. They probably think I’ve outright betrayed them without knowing the truth. And it’s just been making me think who am I? And who do I want to be? Roman, Greek? How many more false memories do I have? It’s all very overwhelming.”
You listened inventively. Your heart ached for him and how you wish you can just take even a half of his pain away from him. He was a puppet to so many and you wanted to help him. Help him find who he deserves to be, and help him find his peace.
You scooted closer and wrapped your blanket across his legs to keep him warm. You placed a hand on his shoulder and looked into his blue eyes. “I think Jason Grace is who Jason Grace is. a loving, selfless, kind soul who will help anyone in need. Someone who wouldn’t think twice of sacrificing himself for his friends. And that Jason, that’s something not even fake memories can take away from you. That’s just who you are. The rest of this will come as you navigate this newfound freedom outside of Camp Jupiter. There’s no harm in being both. It will come and you’ll know when it hits you. You’ll be ok I promise.”
Jason pulled your hand off his shoulder and held it softly in his hand, “Thank You Y/N, that makes me feel better, I’m grateful to have someone like you in my life.”
You smiled at him warmly, “of course dummy and if you ever need a reminder of how sweet and awesome you, my quarters is hmmm? 2 doors down from ya….. on the right side.”
He chuckled and surprisingly leaned in to kiss the top of your forehead, “I’ll be sure to take you up on that.”
You blushed softly, “I hope you do.”
#pjo#jason grace#pjo fandom#pjo hoo toa#percy pjo#pjo tv show#jason grace x reader#jason grace imagine#jason grace fanfic#heroes of olympus#jason grace headcanon
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Fandom: Criminal minds.
Character: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader
Author’s note: English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes.
Warnings: smut, vaginal sex, established relationship, oral sex, fluff
Summary: Y/N comes back after months oversea and Hotch makes up for the lost time
Words: 5k
Welcome back
After ten months oversea, Y/N just wanted to lay in her bed and sleep for more than a few hours. Those months had been stressful and exhausting. After three missions in Afghanistan, she got used to the long hours, the heat, and the desert. What she wasn’t used to was missing home. She never felt at home in any of the city she was deployed. Yes, she loved moving around the planet but no one of the houses she lived in, felt like home, not by a long shot. And no one was waiting for her so she never had a reason to feel eager to go back.
Now, things were different. She had someone waiting for her back home. Her relationship with Hotch was one of the best things that ever happened to her. He was caring, kind, loving and most importantly he loved her for her. He understood her job and the long hours better than anyone else, maybe because he was as workaholic as her, but no mattered how much work he had, he always found time for her and his son Jack.
Y/N loved that boy as he was her own. She never thought she would’ve missed someone like she missed the Hotchner boys, and she couldn’t wait to come back home and hugged them. She loved her job, it was the only constant in her live since she was eighteen, her anchor in the darkest days and it still was sometimes. But now she had Hotch too.
Being away from him had been torture. They talked via Skype any time she could, but it was difficult since most of the times the signal was wonky, and it wasn’t the same thing. She missed falling asleep in his strong arms, it was her safe place. She missed his skin under her touch, his kisses, his penetrative stare. She missed feeling him close and spending the weekend with him and Jack.
She took a deep breath before the doors of the elevators opened. As soon as she landed at the base, she went straight to Hotch’s office. She couldn’t wait to see him and didn’t even bother to change clothes, so she was still wearing her uniform. He wasn’t expecting her to come back for another two days before the schedule date, it was a surprise.
As soon as she entered the bullpen, she saw the team chatting around the table in the small kitchen they had and sharing a cup of coffee. No one of them seemed to notice her presence.
“Is there a cup left for me?” She asked rhetorically, and the team gasped in surprise to see her standing in the bullpen.
“Y/N! You’re here!” Garcia shouted as she walked up to Y/N to give her a big hug. “Gosh it’s so good to see you. How are you? Does bossman knows you’re here? He’s gonna be so happy!”
“Babygirl, give her a break.” Morgan said walking past her and welcomed his friend. “Welcome back, ninja.”
“I’ve missed you so much, guys.”
“We’ve missed you too, Y/N.” JJ said while hugging Y/N, followed by Reid.
“Ciao, bella. Come stai?” Rossi welcomed her with a double kiss on the cheek and a cup of hot coffee. “Ecco il tuo caffè.”
Y/N happily took the mug and had a sip. It wasn’t the best coffee she had ever drunk but it was certainly better than the one she had during her mission oversea. “Grazie, Dave. Ne avevo davvero bisogno.”
“Guys, English please.” Morgan complained knowing that if didn’t get stopped Dave and Y/N would’ve started having an entire conversation in Italian and to him it was annoying. The team laughed at his tantrum and returned their attention to Y/N.
“So, how was the desert?” Garcia asked curious.
“Hot.” Y/N joked “Tell me about you, guys. What did I miss?”
“Nothing new. Catching the bad guys here and there.” JJ replied.
Being too caught in the moment, catching up, none of them realized that their boss walked into the bullpen. Hotch stopped in his track as he recognized the woman in front of him. He couldn’t believe she was finally here, he dreamed about this moment for weeks. Like a teenager, he felt the heart leaving his chest at the happiness of having her back.
“Y/N” he said her name in a whisper and as Y/N heard herself getting called from behind, she turned in the direction of that voice and saw that Hotch was standing there with a mixed look of surprise and shock.
“Surprise” she greeted him with a wide smile.
Without wasting time, Hotch embraced her and spun her around a few times. Holding her close as he was scared that the moment he left her, she would leave again. He sniffed her hair having missed her scent over the ten months. He had missed her like crazy. It was strange waking up in the morning without having her by his side.
Once he put her down, he kept holding her close for a few moments, until he heard someone clearing their throat behind them. He had completely forgot that the team was there but couldn’t care less. Y/N was back in his arms. The team’s embarrassment could wait.
“I guess someone is very happy to see you again, Y/N.” Rossi teased, looking toward the couple, and winked to Hotch who rolled his eyes at his words.
“He had been miserable all these months.” Morgan added.
Hotch didn’t care to reply, the only thing he cared about was her. His could have said whatever they wanted, he wasn’t even listening, he was focused on her. It was like the rest of the people in the room disappeared the moment she was in his arms again.
They laughed and chatted for a little more. She enjoyed spending time with his team because she knew how much they meant to him. They were a family, and she could see it every time they hang out altogether. She recalled the first time she had met them; she was terrified they wouldn’t like her; she changed her clothes three times that night and every time Hotch reassured her it only made it worst. To her surprise though, the team was wonderful with her and soon they made her feel part of the family. Hotch and Y/N said their goodbyes and headed up to the elevators, leaving the team behind.
The ride to her house was silent, Hotch was holding her hand and caressing her thumb as the anticipation was growing in both of them. To him it still felt unreal that she was there in his car. He would never admit to his team and especially to Rossi, but they were right; the past ten months had been torture for him, not knowing how she was or if something had happened to her made him miserable.
Arriving at her house, he parked the car in her driveway and walked her to the door after he helped her taking all the bags in the trunk. Once she unlocked the door and entered the house, she left the bags on the ground and turned to Hotch who was standing hesitant on the doorway.
“Are you not coming in?” Y/N questioned him with furrowed eyebrows.
“You need to rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He offered and turned to leave.
“Aaron” Y/N called after him and get his attention back “Stay. Please. I want you to stay. I’ve missed you and I don’t wanna wait until tomorrow.”
“You sure?”
She smiled and nodded slightly. He walked slowly back to her and grabbed her face between his hands resting his lips on hers. She held him tighter to her by his t-shirt and they kissed there on the doorway for several moments until air became a need.
They enter the house and once Hotch closed the door, he was on her again and she jumped on him, wrapping her legs around his waist. Their lips connected again, and she ran her hands through his hair pulling a little making him groaned in the kiss. He quickly carried her to the bedroom never breaking the kiss.
Standing in front of each other, Hotch slowly started getting rid of her t-shirt. Their lips reconnected quickly but in a more passionate way, taking their time to taste each other. She opened her mouth leaving him the control, her head was resting between his strong hands as her hands were traveling along his back.
Hotch kept kissing her slow and passionate but deep down he was eager to devore her. He didn’t get the chance to do it for too long and even thought they became experts in phone sex, it wasn’t quite the same. He needed to feel her close, to smell her soft skin and take his time to kiss every inch of her body.
His hands left her face and found her belt, that he got rid of in a mere of time throwing somewhere on the floor. She followed every move he was making waiting patiently for him to take her. She was craving his touch more than she could ever imagine. She missed the feeling of his rough, yet gentle, hands on her skin, it always made her feel like she was burning inside from excitement.
Y/N took off her pants, sat on the bed and pushed Hotch to her pulling him by his belt. She started to unbuckle it, looking straight into his eyes. Hotch smiled and caressed her cheek. His look was full of desire and lust, he was almost begging her to hurry up since she was going purposely slow. His cock was starting to feel tight in his jeans. He quickly got rid of his jeans and t-shirt as soon as she finished, standing in front of her just in his boxers.
She could see the outline of his cock and reflexively bite her lower lip. Y/N wanted to taste him right there, he was in the perfect position and went to grab his boxers to free him but was stopped by his strong hands who grabbed firmly her wrists. Hotch knew what she wanted to do, he'd lie if he said he didn't want it too, but he had other plans.
“Later. Now lay back.” He demanded.
She did what she was told, not without a bit of disappointment. As she saw Hotch getting on his knees between her legs, a shiver went through her spine and groaned at the anticipation, he smiled at the effect he had on her. Even after ten months, the desire never faded away, it only increased. And he was ready and determinate to make up for the lost time.
Hotch grabbed the sides of her panties and slid them down her legs, agonizingly slowly and threw them somewhere across the room. And pushed her legs as far apart as he could, making her gasp at the sudden move. He placed a soft kiss on her hip, going further down to kiss the space of skin where the thigh met the hip and groaned.
“Please, Aaron” she pleaded, squirming a little under his kiss.
“Please what, baby?” Hotch asked mischievously, caressing her leg with his fingertips.
“Eat me!”
Hotch smirked and without wasting more time, his mouth started to devour her pussy moaning at the way she tasted. The vibration sent a jolt through her body and made her squirmed under him. He was savoring her like a starved man, and he was so good with his mouth that she never wanted him to stop.
“Oh God!” Y/N moaned loudly, as she felt pleasure filling her body. Her hand was, once again, in his hair pulling a little. He groaned at the feeling and that only increased her pleasure.
He knew she was close; he could feel it and couldn’t wait for her to cum and finally get to taste her again after so long. As he took a breath, one of his hands found her entrance and felt how wet she was, making her groaned more.
“Please don’t stop.” She whimpered.
At her surprise, Hotch pushed two fingers inside her, leaving her out of breath. He started moving them back and forth with a fast pace. Her orgasms kept building in her stomach as he maintained the pace.
“Yes, like that!”
Immediately, his lips were on her; his tongue was moving around her clit, sucking hard. His tick fingers were deeper in her. The combo was enough to send her over the edge as a strong wave of pleasure hit her.
“Oh shit! Aaron!” she came hard on his mouth as he kept tasting her. Hotch rode her orgasm never stopping his movements and in a mere of seconds she cum for the second time that night, arching her back.
“Fuck!” she groaned loudly.
Hotch smirked at the view and pulled out his fingers from her to get up and admire more of her. She hissed at the loss of contact. As she recovered from coming down form her high, they locked eyes and smiled to each other.
“Mmm.” He groaned as he pushed his fingers into his mouth “You taste so good, baby.”
Without losing her gaze, Hotch slowly slipped out of his boxers giving her a small show. She watched him with look that he knew all too well; lust and craving were in her eyes as she bit her lower lip while observing him. Hotch climbed over her, as Y/N positioned herself in the middle of the bed.
“Hi, Mr. Hotchner.”
“Hi, Ms. Y/L/N.” he bent to capture her lips so she could taste herself on him. “I’m not done with you.”
“I hope so.” She whispered smirking against his lips and felt him hardening against her. She smiled at the effect she had on him. Taking advantage of the distraction and with her legs around his waist, Y/N pushed Hotch on the mattress, ending up on top of him. He was taken by surprise but didn’t complain, he loved when she was in control.
Hotch smirked at her and pulled Y/N in a hot and wet kiss, keeping her head firmly between his hands. Her body react to that kiss as she felt a shiver along her spine, making her wetter by the second. Hotch’s hands were caressing her thighs, as she slowly got her bra undone freeing her breasts. His eyes went wide at the view, lust and desire filled his body and she could feel the effect under her.
“I need you” Hotch whispered. Y/N lifted a little for a better access and his cock slid easily inside her as wet as she was. They groaned in unison at the feeling. As he was deep inside her, she paused for a moment hesitant to move since it has been a while. He seemed to understand and gave her an empathetic smile.
“Take your time, baby.” he reassured her softly, and she nodded.
She bent over to give him a tender kiss as his hand tangled in her hair. Y/N started rocking her hips on him slowly, agonizingly slowly, making both moaning in the kiss. She moved like that for a few minutes to adjust again to his thick size.
“Oh God” she whimpered.
For him it wasn’t different. He groaned at every move she made. Her inner muscles were tightening around him, making him groan out of pleasure. Soon he started moving up, meeting her thrusts midway. The only things that could’ve been heard in the room was their skin slapping onto each other, the groans and the heavy breaths.
Y/N stood up to face him and started moving faster on him, taking him every time deeper. She felt her orgasm starting to build in her stomach. As he read her mind, Hotch’s quickly found its way between her legs meeting her clit and started moving his fingers in circle faster and faster.
“Don’t stop, Hotch!” she moaned loudly. He let out a low groan knowing she was close and moved faster.
“Cum for me, baby” he urged rubbing her clit, begging for her release.
Y/N pushed back on him a few more time before a strong wave of pleasure hit her hard. She loved how well he knew her body, how he could make her cum so effortlessly. He always knew how to move with her to give her the pleasure she deserved.
“Oh wow!” she whispered coming down from her orgasm, trying to catch her breath. For his point of view, Hotch took a moment to admire her. She was always beautiful in his eyes but the way she looked post an orgasm always drove him crazy and made him want to give her more pleasure.
She captured his lips once again and Hotch took the chance to roll them over again, making her gulped. He covered her body with his as he remained inside her. He kissed her one more time as his hand traveled along her body and meet her left breast. Hotch cupped it and begging to massage it carefully, stroking her nipple with his thumb. She moaned at the feeling, craving for more.
He went kissing down her neck, on her soft spot. He continued his way down her body, leaving wet kisses all over her chest. As he kept playing with one nipple, he took the other into his mouth making her groaned. He played with both her breasts while her hands were scratching him a little on his back.
“A-Aaron” she moaned softly.
“What do you want?”
“You” she urged. He smirked and stood between her legs. Hotch took his cock and begun sliding it over her entrance. He wanted nothing more than have her right there. He entered her slowly wanting to let her feel every inch of him. They both groaned and he gave her a very little time to adjust and started thrusting deep inside her, increasing the pace every time more.
“Fuck, baby.” Hotch groaned “I’ve missed you so much.”
As she felt the familiar feeling in her stomach, a shiver went through all her body. She wanted to tell him how much she had missed him too. But was too caught in the moment to even think straight, the words didn’t seem to want to come out from her mouth, just moaning and groanings.
She felt the pleasure filling her and wrapped her legs around him to pull him closer and deeper. She was close and he could feel it by the way she was clenching around him. He pounded into her with everything he had while one hand reached for her clit and started rubbing it again in circles, making her squirm under him.
“Oh yes!” Y/N cried out loud as she came hard again. Hotch slowed down his pace enjoying the view of his lover and give her time to recover. Out of breath and still high, Y/N pulled him over her and kissed him deeply holding his head between her hands.
“I’ve missed you too, honey.” She whispered against his lips, and he smiled. His hand was traveling up and down her side with the fingertips brushing her skin. Y/N’s hands were tangled in his hair pulling them a little and making him groaned.
The open mouth wet kisses all over her chest were increasing her desire. His gentle touch was sending jolts to her core as he wrapped the legs tighter around him. He knew she wanted more but he took his time to feel every inch of her soft skin under him. After so many months they really felt connected again, there wasn’t a display between them anymore. It was just them now.
Suddenly, he thrusts hard into her, making her gasped. Before she had time to react, Hotch started moving deliciously slow as he felt her muscles tightening around him every time more.
“Please make me cum, Hotch.”
She was getting closer as he went deeper. Hotch stood up and gripped forcefully her hips, pounding harder on her. He groaned loudly at the feeling of her wet and tight pussy. She was driving him crazy as much as he was driving her crazy.
“You like that, baby?”
“Oh, yes!” she moaned “You feel so good. Don’t stop.”
One of his hands found his way between them and reached for her clit one more time and he started to rub it faster and faster making her squirm under him. She arched her back at the mixed emotions that were going through her body. Pleasure, ecstasy, joy, love, pride, all provoked by the same man. No one had ever made her feel the way he did.
He groaned knowing he was close too but didn’t stop working on her.
“Cum with me, Y/N”
He slammed into her harder a few more time before he finally released himself inside her. That, combined with his fingers still rubbing her clit, was enough to send her over the edge.
“Fuck!”
“God!”
Hotch collapsed on top of her, and she wrapped her arms around him wanting to feel him as close as possible. Waiting for their breath to return to normal, Hotch left a few tender kisses down her neck while her hands were playing with his soft hair.
They stood like this for several minutes, enjoying each other’s company in the silence of the room before Hotch rolled off her and laid next to her. He opened his arm for her offering to rest her head on his chest and she happily accepted, snuggling onto him.
“It’s good to have you back” he said breaking the silence and she looked up to him with a wide smile on her face.
“It’s good to be back” Y/N assured him softly and pecked his lips.
“I love you so much.” He took a deep breath, not sure if continue but did it anyway “I was terrified of losing you. I’ve been miserable since you left and didn’t have the courage to admit it. I knew you were doing your job and couldn’t be prouder of you, but every time you leave--“
Y/N abruptly interrupted him with a deep kiss.
“I’m here now. You have nothing more to worry about.”
He smiled softly and kissed her again, cupping her cheek with his hand and caressing it a little.
“You need to sleep now.” Hotch said before kissing her forehead. She nodded slightly and fell asleep at the sound of his heartbeat. A sound she had missed and never failed to make her feel safe.
As the hours passed by, Y/N didn’t seem to find the right position to sleep. Everything seemed to distract her; the lights coming from outside were too bright, the wind, waving the leaves, was too loud. The bed was more comfortable that she remembered, she kept tossing and touring around trying to put much effort to shut her mind and fall asleep, but every attempt got wasted.
She reached for her phone on her nightstand to check the time. It was 2:30 am. She turned to face Hotch who was peacefully sleeping, snoring lightly. She scoffed at herself at the thought of how much she had missed earing that sound. It used to drive her crazy when she was trying to sleep, and now she could hear his softly snoring for hours.
Y/N watched him sleeping for quite sometimes thinking that it would’ve helped her fall asleep but didn’t seem to work. She climbed out of the bed and put on her panties and the shirt he wore and walked to the kitchen, trying to be as quiet as possible to not wake Hotch. Once there, she opted for a chamomile, hoping that it could help her. She sat on the counter waiting for the water to boil and was too caught in her thoughts that she didn’t notice a sleepy Hotch appearing in the room, wearing only his boxers.
“Can’t you sleep?” he asked softly while walking to her.
“No.” Y/N reached for his hand and offered him to stood between her legs and he happily accepted. “It’s not easy to get used to the city again. I kinda miss the desert.”
They shared a laugh before he bent to kiss her lips gently.
“I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“No. I turned around and you weren’t there.” He assured her and she smiled.
Y/N captured his lips again and deepened the kiss by taking his head in her hands. He groaned in the kiss and pushed himself into her a bit more grabbing her on the hips. In a mere of seconds, the kiss became hot and desperate. Both were eager for more contact. Their wandering hands were traveling on each other’s body. She felt the heat in her body caused by his touches.
Their session was interrupted by the sudden whistling of the electric kettle, warning that the water was boiled. Hotch hadn’t even noticed the thing on the stove and looked at Y/N with a questioning look.
“I was making some chamomile.” She explained.
“I’ll make you a cup.”
“Actually, I prefer what we were doing.” she smirked at him. Hotch looked at her with a devilish smile and turned off the stove before kissing her again. She wrapped her legs around his waist to pull him closer and felt his already hardening cock against her. He quickly got rid of his t-shirt that she was wearing and assaulted her neck leaving a wet kiss on it and making her shift a little back on the counter.
“Aaron.” She moaned as he kissed down her neck and started giving attention to her breasts, taking one in his mouth, sucking hard, while massaging the other. Her head tilted back as her body was filled of pleasure and her minds was too caught in the moment to think straight.
“Oh God! I need you!” she urged as her hands pulled his hair a little to get his attention.
“What do you need, baby?” he asked, knowing full well the answer but loved to hear her saying it. She groaned annoyed but played along.
“Please. I need you to fuck me!”
No needing to be told twice, Hotch lowered his boxers just enough to free his hard cock and shifted her panties to the side. He slid his dick over entrance a few times to feel how wet she was and entered her slowly, making both of them groaning at the feeling.
“You feel so good, sweetheart.” He whimpered. He started moving right after, going deep inside her. Every thrusts were perfectly placed to give her the most pleasure possible. He knew how to move to satisfy her, and she was amazed by how well he knew her body.
“Oh God! Don’t stop!” she moaned pushing him closer to her, using her legs.
The familiar feeling in her stomach was starting to build again, her inner muscles were tightening around him. He groaned and it took all his strength not to come right away.
“God, Y/N.”
One of his hands moved to her clit and started rubbing in circle, faster and faster, adding more pleasure. With a few more deep thrusts, he sent her over the edge, making her squirm under him.
“Fuck!” she moaned loudly.
He gave her very little time to rest and without notice he slammed hard into her, making her gasped in surprise. He pounded inside her with everything he had. His hand started working on her clit again as she wrapped her legs around him pulling him closer. She knew he was close too; she could feel it from the way his other hand was tightening on her hip.
“Cum for me, Aaron.”
“Together.” He said in a low groan. A few more thrust well placed, combined with his fingers working on her, and they both were hit by a strong wave of pleasure, reaching the edge, and groaning each other’s name in unison. Hotch stopped moving to give themselves time to catch their breath before bending over Y/N and lifted her chin to kiss her lips deeply.
When they parted, he kissed her forehead and caressed her cheek with his thumb. In his eyes, she saw all his love and tenderness. She could get lost in his gaze for hours, admiring those beautiful hazel eyes.
It always amazed her how he could be so stern at work and then at home he was so gentle and loving. She understood why he built this kind of a shield; it was the job who required it, and she did the same. But she was glad that he was comfortable enough to lose it when she was with her.
Without further waiting, Hotch slipped out of her making her gasped at the loss of contact. He picked her up from the counter as she wrapped her legs around him and walked to the bedroom. He gently laid her on her side of the bed and quickly climbed behind her and covered them both with the sheets.
With her back against his chest, Hotch wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled Y/N impossibly closer to him. He could smell the scent of her vanilla shampoo and remembered how much he had missed this. Having her this close still felt like a dream even thought he knew she was there, and he planned to enjoy every second of her presence.
“You’re so much better than chamomile.” She joked and heard him laugh behind her right before he placed a tender kiss on her neck.
“Sleep now. Goodnight, baby.”
“Night. Love you.” She mumbled softly.
“I love you too. Welcome back.” She smiled as those were the last words she heard before falling asleep in his arms, feeling safe. Hotch thought how lucky he was and fall asleep a few minutes after her, smiling at the sound of her gently snoring.
#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotchner smut#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotchner#aaron hotch hotchner#aaron hotchner fanfiction#david rossi#jennifer jareau#penelope garcia#derek morgan#spencer reid
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Requiem
Michael Langdon x Reader (Mad Love Act II, Chapter XVI)
Summary: It's all led to this, and now, you have to face off against Michael to get your world back.
Word Count: 6.3k
A note from the author: This chapter is so, so dark. Sorry? Also, this chapter relies a lot on the she/her pronouns this story was first started with btw. (more notes at the end)
I noticed when posting this that it looks like the previous chapter didn't load a lot of tags. If you got tagged in this and are like "wait how did we get to the fight already?" you missed the last chapter! Click on the Mad Love Masterlist to read Chapter 35. :)
Content warnings for this chapter include graphic depictions of injury and death. Reader discretion is advised.
Mad Love Masterlist
Mallory warned you prior to leaving your room that the residents of Outpost 3 were all dead, murdered at the hands of Ms. Venable and her poisoned apples (you try not to dwell on your own poisoned apple experience). All the preparation in the world doesn’t prepare you for the shock of seeing two dead bodies, those of Coco and Dinah, in the large foyer of the Outpost. Shock turns to revulsion as one of Mallory’s friends and other witches yanks a knife out of Coco’s skull with little more than a wince. When she stands, she points the knife at you.
“She gonna help us?” she asks warily.
“She is.” Mallory turns to you, pointing first to the woman with the knife and next to another woman standing near the stairs. “This is Queenie and Zoe.”
You wave sheepishly. “It’s nice to meet you two.”
Zoe smiles kindly, but Queenie just appraises you with a look that says she doesn’t trust you. You can’t say that you blame her, though you wish she didn’t have a reason for this reaction. Mallory leaves your side to kneel in between the two dead women, and you watch as she takes a deep breath and breathes out onto Coco’s face before repeating her movements with Dinah.
It takes mere seconds for the two to shoot up, gasping for air and trying to get used to once again inhabiting a body.
“Welcome back,” Mallory says.
“What just happened?” Coco asks, her elaborate hairdo impressively staying put after all of that.
“You died. And now, you’re no longer dead.”
“Oh.” She frowns, rubbing at the spot where a knife sat moments ago. “Fuck, that sucked.”
“Are you going to explain why you tore us from our afterlives?” Dinah snaps, standing up.
“It’s time to fix this entire mess. To defeat Michael, we need all the help we can get.” Mallory eyes Dinah specifically. “From both of you.”
“You’re on your own with that shit,” Dinah declares. “I’m not here to defeat anyone.”
Maybe it’s not your place, but you feel like you can help to convince Dinah. You take a step toward here. “Please, I really think that—”
“How can any of you defeat me, when I’ve already won?” A voice, so familiar to you that it could be your own, comes from the stairs.
You almost don’t want to look at him. If you don’t, maybe you can remain in this stasis where you’re simply preparing to undo the apocalypse, instead of being faced with the reality that you’re about to fight your own husband, the man who, despite all of the horrors he’s committed, remains your love. When you do tear your eyes away from Dinah, you see that he’s not even taking notice of your presence. No, he only has hate-filled eyes for the Supreme.
Michael’s changed into a blood-red jacket, which makes it obvious that he was expecting this showdown to happen. Ms. Mead stands off to his left side, ever the small, imposing bodyguard. Mallory steps forward, along with most of the group. You can’t bring your feet to move, so you remain back with Dinah.
“You haven’t won,” Mallory says.
“Perhaps you haven’t noticed the state of the world.”
Queenie scoffs. “At least the world can be saved. Unlike your bitch ass.”
Michael smirks proudly. “The seventh seal has been broken. Wormwood has fallen from the sky and turned the rivers to blood and fire. The bottomless pit has been opened and my swarms of locusts and scorpions have ravaged humanity. The world has been remade in my father’s image.”
When he speaks like this, of biblical imagery and prophecy, he turns into a person you don’t care to know. He turns into the Antichrist.
“Almost.” Mallory smiles. “Pretty sure he didn’t imagine a world where there were still witches, so you failed there.”
Michael finally takes in the full group, and his haughty demeanor falters when he sees you. Softly, he utters your name. “What are you doing?”
You swallow thickly, willing your voice not to shake. “I think you know.”
“I do. You’re going to betray me?
Mallory tries to grab your arm as you move in front of her, but you can’t be stopped now. “This is not betrayal. I’m doing this because I love you, and I can’t bear to be faced with the monster that you’ve become any longer. Now, we have a chance to save the world, Michael. Help me undo this mess.”
“Michael,” Mallory gets his attention once more. “Your father never commanded you to end the world in this way. Jeff and Mutt, the two that ran Kineros, were the ones who thought a nuclear apocalypse was the solution. They controlled Ms. Mead and gave her the commands to tell you that this was Satan’s plan. Satan was just happy to take credit when he realized that you were going to cause anarchy.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Michael says.
“Is it? They told me so themselves, when I went to Kineros to ensure that Coco would be in this Outpost.”
He rolls his eyes. “This is such an obvious lie, I’m a little offended that you would think I’d fall for it. Right, Ms. Mead?”
Michael looks to his left, expecting to be backed up, only to see Ms. Mead with a look of bewildered shame on her face.
“Ms. Mead?”
“They—I do as I’m programmed,” she stutters.
You gasp at the revelation. Satan didn’t come up with the plan to end the world like this? All of this could have been avoided?
Instead of being faced with the same reckoning, a look of absolute murder appears on his face. “I’m going to do what I should have done that day in the Murder House and kill you all personally.”
“Mallory,” Dinah calls, walking towards the Supreme. “You raised me from the dead so that you would have the power of voodoo on your side. But if you know anything about who I am, you know that the only choice I’d pick would be the winner.”
She comes to a stop just before the stairs, bowing her head respectfully. Michael raises a hand out to her, ready to welcome another acolyte. You throw Mallory a panicked look, but she’s barely holding back glee.
“You’re half-right, Dinah,” she admits.
“She needed the help of a powerful voodoo queen,” a deep Southern voice says. You turn and watch as a tall woman with long braids struts up to Dinah. “But that ain’t you, sis .”
“The former Voodoo Queen, Marie Laveau,” Mallory whispers into your ear.
“To release me from hell, Mallory promised Papa Legba the darkest and most corrupt voodoo queen’s soul for mine. You’ll serve him well in my place.”
“You’re a fool, Marie Laveau,” Dinah spits. “You would have done no different if you were queen.”
“No!” Marie says, before disappearing in a puff.
Not even a second later, she reappears behind Dinah wielding a machete. When Dinah turns to face her, Marie brings the machete down in one swing on her throat. Dinah gasps and screams as blood begins to gush out of her neck, falling to the floor and bleeding out in a matter of seconds. Nobody else seems to be affected by this, but you feel a little faint, and you hold onto Mallory’s arm to keep from collapsing.
“Out with the trash!” Marie declares. “Give Papa my regards.”
Michael, apparently having enough of this, nods to Ms. Mead. The android removes her hand to reveal a machine gun hidden underneath it. Though you want to say something along the lines of, “What the actual fuck?” Zoe says a word in what you assume to be Latin before you can.
Instead of shooting, Ms. Mead begins to shake and whir mechanically. Mallory uses Michael’s confusion to usher everybody back towards the open fire, where you watch as Ms. Mead explodes and sends Michael flying over the railing. He lands harshly on the floor below, staring in horror at Ms. Mead’s head next to him.
It’s only a matter of time until his horror turns to rage, and Queenie scrambles forward to grab Ms. Mead’s machine gun hand. When Michael rises, she rises with him, gun trained on his chest.
“Sorry about your little toy,” Queenie says before placing her finger on the trigger.
Michael turns to be met with a firestorm of bullets, more than enough to kill even the Antichrist. You scream in horror at the sight, his blood spattering against the wall as he falls and comes to rest against it, very obviously dead.
“Michael!” You try to stand, wanting to save him even though he probably (definitely) deserves what’s just happened to him. Before you can, Mallory pulls you to her.
“This won’t keep him down,” she assures you. “He’s too powerful to be truly killed. But this will buy us time.”
Though you don’t know if you believe her, you need to in order to keep from emotionally collapsing, so you nod.
Queenie walks to Michael’s body, kicking his foot as she checks to make sure he’s dead…for now, at least. “Do we need his hair or something for this? Because I’m more than happy to rip off a chunk of it.”
“No. The spell only requires that we have something personal of his.” Mallory smiles at you. “And we have the most important person in his life here with us. As long as you’re still in?”
You force yourself to look away from Michael, closing your eyes and taking a couple of deep breaths to recenter yourself. Finally, you look at her again. “Of course, I’m still in.”
“Good. Have you picked a time that will work to stop him?”
“I think so,” you confirm. After some internal deliberation, you think that the best way to get through to him is going to be when you had the big fight about the poisoned apple, before you stormed out and got yourself kidnapped by the witches. He wasn’t too powerful or too far gone with his father’s plan yet, but you were both in love with each other—albeit, you hadn’t actually realized it at that point.
“Alright. I’ll need you to focus on that, okay? Then I’ll say the spell, and we’ll be able to go back in time. We just need somewhere safe to cast the spell, somewhere with a large tub we can fill with water.”
You definitely found a room like that when you were exploring the Outpost your first couple of days here. “Okay. Follow me.”
Everybody stands, but hesitates when they remember the issue of Michael. If he’s going to come back to life like Mallory says, shouldn’t there be some safety measure in place to buy you more time?
Queenie sighs and rolls her eyes, realizing that she should probably be that safety measure. “Go,” she urges, readjusting her grip on the gun to ensure she’ll be quick to the trigger when Michael rises again.
Mallory darts forward to hug her quickly. “Thank you.”
“Enough with the sappy shit.” Even as she says that, you can see the affection in her eyes when she looks at Mallory. “Go!”
You do as she says and hurry up the stairs. Before you turn the corner, you allow yourself a moment to meet Michael’s open, lifeless gaze.
The hallways are much less of a maze than they were when you first arrived here, but the layout is still unfamiliar to you. After leading your group down what you thought was going to lead to the door you were sure contained the room with the tub, you’re met with a dead end.
Sheepishly, you look over your shoulder at Coco. “I think I’m a little lost. Isn’t there a room with a really large washtub for laundry around here?”
Her eyes light up, and she lightly pushes you to keep you moving. “Yes! We’re super close.” It’s going to take a bit to get used to her actually being helpful, you think as you follow her directions. “We’re going to go down this hallway here. Now, the weird little junction up ahead? Take a left and then it’s the third door on the right.”
Now you know where you are. “Thank you! I found it my first time going through the Outpost, but I haven’t lived here for eighteen months like you.”
You’re just about to turn left at the junction when a man appears from the other side of the hallway, jabbing a knife into your abdomen before you can even be surprised at the sight. You cry out, the pain sharp and sudden as he pulls the knife out of you with nothing but malice on his face. When he looks up at you, his scowl is replaced by a horrified shock.
“Oh my god, I thought you were—” He sees Coco, standing just behind you. “She was supposed to be you !”
Your shaking hands try to press down on the wound, but blood rushes out through your fingers, and your knees go weak as you crash into the wall. Down the hall, you can hear Mallory scream your name. She runs for you with Zoe hot on her heels.
“What the fuck did you do?” Mallory yells to the man, landing next to you on the floor and gently pulling your hands away so that she can assess the damage. By the way her lips start to tremble, you assume it’s not good.
The man that stabbed you ignores her, instead focusing on Coco. “You ruin everything!” he yells at her, lifting the knife once more.
Coco pushes him over the railing before he can do any more damage. He screams the whole way down, and Coco peers after him. “Sorry?” she calls with a grimace, no love apparently lost.
“This is…a lot of blood,” you note, watching your black dress becoming even darker from the rapidly expanding bloodstain. You’re also in a lot of pain. Fuck, you didn’t think being stabbed would hurt so much.
“It’s okay! It’s alright!” Mallory soothes; you can’t tell who she’s reassuring, herself or you. “I’m going to fix this. I’m going to—I’ll heal you, and then you’ll be fine.”
Your heart is pounding from a mixture of fear and adrenaline. For the first time since your arrival to this Outpost, you’re truly scared. This is a different fear from when you were worried about Emily and Timothy being executed, or when you realized that Michael wanted to have a child with you. It’s even different from the fear of knowing that you and Michael would be on opposing sides now. This is primal—this is terror.
Mallory’s hands hover over your abdomen as she begins to chant in Latin, eyes screwed shut in concentration. Nothing happens, and as the seconds tick by, your entire body starts to go cold. It’s like somebody’s taken a syringe of ice water and injected it right into your veins. You become more faint than before, and decide that laying flat will probably be the best way to rid yourself of this feeling.
“Why isn’t this working?” Mallory cries in frustration, catching your head and placing it in her lap. Tears begin to build in her eyes as she tries the same breathing technique on you as she did Coco and Dinah to bring them back to life, to no avail. You cough wetly, and when you wipe your mouth, your hand comes away red.
The realization hits you then: you’re dying. The overpowering cold, being unable to sit up anymore, the faintness—your body is beginning to shut down against your will.
“Mallory, I’m scared,” you admit.
“I know. I’m sorry. I promise I’m trying.”
“I know.” You smile at the repetition even as you begin to feel so, so tired. Maybe if you close your eyes and rest for a moment, you’ll be able to get enough strength back to help you fight to stay alive.
Your eyes barely close before Mallory starts shaking you. “No, no, please don’t close your eyes!”
Marie Laveau appears at the far end of the hallway you first ran down and yells something to Mallory, but you can’t quite make out what she says over the rushing in your ears. Mallory takes one of your arms and Zoe takes the other, both working together to pull you down the hallway. You watch dizzily as Coco runs to Marie, your vision warping as the two disappear around the corner.
Mallory continues trying to heal you once they have you in the room where you’re meant to go back in time. Her hand, soaked in your blood, runs over your forehead comfortingly as she becomes more frantic in her chanting. Even Zoe tries to help, pressing down on your abdomen in the hopes of slowing the bleeding as she joins Mallory in spellwork. It’s becoming more difficult to hold on as you become weaker, the two taking turns making you open your eyes again.
“Please, please, please,” Mallory begs any and all forces beyond her power that might be listening.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble, the effort to produce sounds near herculean.
“Don’t apologize,” she says sternly through tears, earning the smallest of laughs from you.
“Yes, ma’am.” Your hands shake as you feel around for Mallory’s, and you weakly squeeze when you find them. “I love you, Mal. I’m so happy I got to see you again.”
“Stop saying goodbye. I’m going to bring you back, this isn’t goodbye.”
For now, though, it is, and you both know it. When your eyes close this time, they don’t open again, and you feel yourself being dragged down, down, down, away from consciousness and life itself.
With your last remaining strength, you become introspective. You have so many regrets, so many words that you’re going to leave unsaid. You wish you had gotten the chance to actually complete the spell and go back in time, sure that you would have been able to change Michael’s mind. You want to thank Queenie and Zoe and Coco and Marie for their help, for believing that you can help fix the mess the world has become. You wish you could—
•••
Michael has had enough of witches on this Earth, he thinks as he blows Queenie’s head clean off her shoulders after coming back to life. She had been distracted by a body falling from two floors up—whose body it was remained a mystery that Michael didn’t care to solve—providing Michael the element of surprise. Even if she were still prepared, it wouldn’t have mattered. He’s too powerful for anything to stop him now.
Maybe he was naive to believe that a simple nuclear bomb or two could kill them. No, he was definitely naive. After all, Mallory knew that the world would be ending, and soon. That was more than enough time for her to gather her chosen forces and figure out a way to survive. He knows now that his path, the one that Satan had created before he had even created Michael, was always meant to lead to this. In order to truly inherit this new world and rule Hell on Earth, he must eradicate the remaining witches with his own hands.
But what to do with you? You’ve chosen your side for this battle, and it’s not his. He nervously hopes that you’re simply mad at him after how your last conversation devolved into a fight, that Mallory reached you at a vulnerable time and used that to her advantage to recruit you. Once he defeats the witches, you’ll come back to him and he’ll concede that he was perhaps wrong to bring up the idea of having a child at such an intimate moment. Still, seeing you standing in solidarity with the witches hurt, which is likely what the Supreme was planning.
When Michael makes it up the stairs, the reanimated voodoo queen blocks the hallway that he knows you and the witches have gone down. Grabbing a pouch off of her belt, she pours a powder into her hand and spreads it in a line in front of her with a chant.
“You shall not pass,” Marie declares with a smirk, wiping her hands of the powder. Michael juts his hand forward, prepared to rip her heart out of her chest, but an invisible barrier stops him. “You’re dealing with the HBIC now.”
He smiles ruefully. “Clever,” he admits. “Normally, that would work.”
He’s about to show that voodoo magic is no match for him anymore when his blood runs cold and his heart drops. At that same moment, he becomes aware of sobbing coming from far behind Marie. Though Michael’s never felt anything like this before, he can feel the certainty of what it means down to his very core: something’s happened. Specifically, something’s happened to you.
“Let me through,” he demands. Marie falters, taken aback at the fear in his eyes. “Marie Laveau, if you value your second chance at life you’ll let me through.”
She recovers from her hesitation with a haughty laugh. “Nice try.”
Michael makes quick work of her with a simple snap of his fingers, snapping her neck and sending her right back to the Underworld. He’s just about to clear the barrier and figure out just what is going on when he feels a presence behind him. Rolling his eyes, he turns around to face this distraction as well and comes face to face with Coco St. Pierre Vanderbilt, who was with you when he was shot. Surely she must know something about what’s going on.
“What’s happened?” Michael asks. The knife that Coco was prepared to stab him with goes limp in her wrist, and she gapes at him. “Where’s Y/n?”
“She was…Brock…” She weakly mimes a stabbing motion.
“No.” He feels sick at the mere implication. “No!”
Coco now the least of his worries, he runs down the hallway, the whole time hoping that it’s a mistake, that Coco misinterpreted what she saw, that the cold emptiness now residing in his chest is simply a fluke. The sobs that become more clear as he nears the entryway, however, don’t do much to reassure him.
“Mallory!” Michael gasps.
The Supreme is on the floor with you in her lap, and for a moment, Michael can delude himself into thinking that you’re okay. The excessive amount of blood on the floor—your blood—and the unnaturally limp way that your hand is lying force him to face the obvious. Michael’s knees give out, and he falls to the floor harshly.
Mallory looks up at him, forgetting that they’re meant to be enemies right now. “She got stabbed, and—” a sob rips from her chest, “my healing spells aren’t working. And neither is Vitalum Vitalis. It should be working, Michael, I’m the fucking Supreme.”
“Okay. Um, let me…” Michael’s brain is fighting a war between shutting down from the agony of this situation and kicking into overdrive to figure out how to get you back. After a moment, he thinks he might have an idea. He tries to pull you out of Mallory’s arms and into his own, but she refuses to loosen her hold on you. “Mallory, I need to hold her.”
While he does need to be able to touch you for the spell, he’s not really asking for that purpose. He feels that he might soon lose his grasp on sanity if he can’t hold your body. No, he needs you as close to him as possible, to try and capture the warmth of your body so that he might remind himself that you’ve only just left, that he can still get you back. Begrudgingly, Mallory allows him to hold you, but she still keeps one of your hands in hers.
He’d like to say that it looks like you’re sleeping, comforting himself with the platitude most mourners claim upon seeing a body. He’d be lying, though, because he knows what you look like when you’re sleeping. The way that your face scrunches at the smallest sensation, how your eyes move under their lids and your mouth forms silent words when you’re dreaming particularly deeply, the intermittent light snoring that you swear you don’t do. If you were simply sleeping, he’d play the prince to your Sleeping Beauty and wake you with a kiss, revealing your amused smile and your fond gaze.
Now, there’s none of that. You’ve been dead for mere minutes, but already the signs of death are here. Your face is as slack as all of your muscles now are, making your cheekbones more prominent and your mouth hinge slightly open. A sallowness has started to take over your skin, and he finds himself tracing the apples of your cheeks in a futile attempt to coax blood back to the surface. He even swears that he can feel your body growing colder, just like he feared.
It takes Michael some time to remember what he’s meant to be doing. All of this grief and pain will hopefully be for nothing, so long as he can hold himself together for a little bit longer. He takes a deep breath, hesitating for a moment before dropping his forehead against yours. Tears are threatening to fall, and when he closes his eyes to try and hold them back, it only hastens their arrival. They roll, hot and thick, off of his face and onto yours, and he wipes them off with a silent apology.
Finally, Michael slips into a dissociation as he begins to walk between the realms of living and dead. He’s done this more than a few times now for varying reasons, becoming pretty adept at finding a soul and bringing it back to the living plane. The hardest part by far is always calming his mind enough to be able to attempt this in the first place; the fact that he’s been able to achieve it in this circumstance is a small miracle.
Now that he’s in the so-called in-between, he begins his search. Every single soul has a signature to it, so as long as he knows who he’s looking for, he usually finds the rest of this process to be pretty straightforward. Since your soul is so near and dear to him, he’s expecting this to take a couple of minutes at most.
A minute passes, then another, as he tries to track your soul down. Michael begins to grow concerned; considering you just died, he shouldn’t be having to search this hard. There’s a complete lack of you anywhere, and he begins to shake as he’s faced with the increasingly likely potential that your soul is gone. But how? Why? With a chilling clarity, he knows exactly what’s happened.
His father has become displeased. Whether he’s had enough of your and Michael’s collective disobedience over the years—Satan holds a grudge like no other, after all—or your declaration that you would never bear Michael’s child or be the perfect wife that Satan had planned for you to be. He’s had enough, and now, he’s taken this opportunity to make good on the threats he first warned Michael about during the poison apple saga. He’s made sure that you’re out of the picture for good. If Michael knows Satan, he’s probably already picked out some girl back at the Sanctuary to be wife number two, and this time, she would be the most devout, demure Satanist who would never even think of going against Satan’s will.
But Michael doesn’t want another wife. No, what he wants is to lay here on the floor and die right along with you, following you into whatever afterlife you’ve found yourself in in the hopes that he can continue to love you there. How can he ever be expected to love another person that’s not you? What kind of a life is there for him to live if you’re not here to share in it?
“Is everything okay?” Mallory asks, reminding him that there’s another person in this room, one who’s going to feel her own devastation at this news.
“I can’t find her. My father…” He chokes on his own words, unable to actually say the fate that’s befallen you. Instead, he can only cry.
Mallory picks up on the context clues, and her face drops. “So that’s it? She’s gone?”
The nod Michael gives her is the most painful movement of his life. When Mallory collapses, he also forgets the pretense of enemies and allows her to fall against him. It’s mainly for his own benefit—were he not using Mallory for support, he would be in a heap on top of you.
They remain without words for a while. Distantly, he’s aware of Zoe talking to Coco down that damned hall, the two wondering what to do now. He hopes that they come up with an answer, because he has no clue. In his opinion, there’s nowhere else to go from here. Though he may not have physically died, his life has ended along with yours in this room.
“Were you telling the truth?” Michael asks finally, making Mallory look up. “About Jeff and Mutt?”
He almost doesn’t want to know, but before he can change his mind, she nods. “All they cared about were themselves. They were fed up with minor inconveniences—having to wait for coffee, traffic woes—and wanted to ‘wipe the slate clean.’ They thought that they could reshape the world to how they wanted, and they used a vulnerable Antichrist to do so. Ms. Mead changed her tune from magic to fire and blood because Jeff and Mutt were feeding her the commands.”
He so badly wants her to be lying, but even if he couldn’t sense her truthfulness, he has his own memories to rely on. How suddenly Ms. Mead suggested that world destruction was preferred to world domination (and that the two cokehead idiots would be the guys to talk to about that) had always seemed a little odd to him, but he simply went along with it, believing Ms. Mead to still be his trusted advisor. This revelation simply makes Michael cry harder until he’s almost matching Mallory’s earlier sobs. She puts her free hand on his shoulder in comfort. Though he appreciates the gesture, nothing can bring him comfort.
All of this pain and death and destruction has been for naught. Michael spent years chasing his father’s approval and doing terrible things, things that made him so sick to think about that he forced himself to compartmentalize them in order to not drown in his shame. He’s shirked friends, love, and basic morals, only to find out that his father didn’t even care if the world ended this way. No, all Satan wanted was power and sin, which he got in spades these past eighteen months.
“How were you going to stop me?” he asks.
Mallory hesitates. “We…we were going to go back in time. There’s a spell that I found when searching through the coven’s grimoires to help with your Cordelia issue. I practiced it a few times before the bombs dropped, trying to figure out the right way to do it. Y/n was going to be both your personal tie and the one convincing you to stop the apocalypse. She had a time in place where she thought that you would be most willing to listen, to change your mind.”
It’s a smart plan, and it probably would have worked. After all, you likely know (knew, he’s reminded harshly) him better than he knows himself. As he thinks about the what-ifs, Michael realizes that this doesn’t have to be something that never happens.
“So, if you and I were to go back in time together, then we could change all of this?” Michael asks.
Mallory gapes at him. “You’re willing to give all this up?”
“What, this empty, decimated kingdom that I don’t even want?”
In the eighteen months since the apocalypse, Michael had found that he was not suited for being a ruler—he didn’t like the pomp and circumstance, nor did he like people fawning over him. Still, he pretended to be the cold, uncaring king of this “New World,” because he thought that was what Satan wanted, that he was fulfilling the destiny that he was born to.
Now, there’s nothing left to fight for. The world didn’t even need to be ended, let alone in this way. He’s been nothing but a pawn to people his whole life—the Satanists, the warlocks, the stupid fucks that ran Kineros, even Satan himself. He’s done. Done with this stupid, useless path he’s taken, done with hurting everything and everyone, and done with bowing to the whims of anybody.
After all, what has he got to show for any of this? He’s been a good little soldier, doing unspeakably horrific acts and acting like he wasn’t affected, like he wasn’t the Michael that he was before the apocalypse. How did Satan reward him? By ensuring that he would never get back the one person in his life that he has ever truly loved, and who had ever truly loved him.
“I can’t—I can’t live a life without Y/n. There is nothing without her. What do I need to do to help you?”
“Promise me,” she says. “Promise me that you will not use this second chance to end the world once again.”
“I just found out I ended the world for no reason, Mallory. A world that I was slowly coming to love, before Cordelia informed me that I needed to speed up the apocalypse plans I had been led to believe were created by my father. Before I was upset by people trying to convince me that blowing everything up was a bad idea.” Because of course, Satan would take credit for those plans if it meant that he would be closer to getting the complete chaos it would create. “Why would I try to end it again?”
Mallory searches his face for a moment before nodding. “I believe you.”
She’s known him for long enough now to know his tells, and she sees none of them. Right now, he’s too much of a wreck to even consider trying to lie, not that he was planning on it.
Mallory slowly stands, but not before kissing the back of your hand and laying it gently on your chest. “Come on.”
“I’m sorry,” Michael whispers to you, kissing your forehead. “I’m so, so sorry. I’m going to make this right.”
It takes strength he didn’t know he possessed to lay you down and let go of your body. Even as he walks away, going against every instinct and leaving you on the floor, he can’t take his eyes off of you.
Mallory climbs into the large washtub in the corner of the room, flicking her wrist and filling it with water. Michael follows her in, ignoring the uncomfortable sensation of sitting in wet clothes.
“Think of a time that you believe it will be easiest to completely stop the apocalypse before it goes too far,” she instructs.
There are many times in the past two years that Michael can see as a good time to stop the apocalypse. First, he’s tempted to go back to the beginning of this mess, when the witches killed Ms. Mead. Plans for the end of the world hadn’t even been drawn up yet, and he would have the added benefit of having Ms. Mead back. Plus, you wouldn’t have gone through the trauma of being kidnapped and forced to be the Antichrist’s bride.
It’s incredibly selfish, but the more Michael thinks about that avenue, the less he wants to take it. While it’s unfortunate how you came to know each other, he wouldn’t trade the way that you and he fell in love with each other for anything. But on the practical side, he wouldn’t have the influence that he has over important people and organizations were he to go back that far, and he needs that if he’s going to have enough power to keep the world from ending altogether. That’s off the table, then.
He wishes that you had told Mallory of your idea before being fatally wounded, because he probably would have agreed with your assessment. If it was any time after you moved in with him, he was already so in love with you that he could easily be swayed. What makes the most sense?
Finally, Michael has it. The time where he can be most effective at changing the fate of the world and ensuring there will not be an apocalypse by his hand, can remain powerful enough to not be usurped as Antichrist (for he’s sure that Satan will be very displeased by the change of plans if he finds out about Michael changing fate), and can still have you.
He opens his eyes and nods. “I have it.”
“Okay,” Mallory says with a hopeful smile. “Focus on that as hard as you can, place us both there.”
It’s all he can think about now, but he does as she says and recreates that time in his head. The sights, the sounds, the smells. How your hand felt in his, and the brightness of your smile. The possibilities that, at that time, seemed endless. Mallory holds her hands out and Michael takes them, feeling their magic bouncing off of each other like sparks from two exposed wires.
“Balneum infinitum. Dona salui conductus.” Mallory repeats the chant two more times, the water bubbling around them furiously and turning darker with each word.
Michael knows even without Mallory’s instruction that he’s needed to say the last part of the spell, and what that last part is. Just before they submerge themselves under the water, their voices join together to cast the most important spell of their lives.
“Tempus Infinituum.”
•••
Endnotes: Wow. I thought this would be a particularly tough chapter to write, but as I got going, the story flowed easily. I think because I've had this scene stuck in my head for so long! My FBI agent is definitely concerned by how thoroughly I read those "what happens to a body after a person dies" articles.
ALSO the Jeff and Mutt thing is canon!
Anyways, I'm gonna go watch some cute animal videos to feel better. Take care of yourselves, alright?
@ajokeformur-ray @iamavailablesstuff @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @nsainmoonchild @redroses07
@xo-angel-ox @littleangel4996 @iamlivingforturner @thatonehumanbeing05
@codycrazy @love-on-the-murder-scene
#michael langdon#michael langdon imagine#michael langdon x reader#american horror story#ahs imagine#american horror story imagine#michael langdon imagines#mad love musings
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Progression, Chapter 27: Preview
Chay: Kim and I have a son now. 🥹
Khun: Kim’s PREGNANT?! 🤰🏻 Kim! Why wouldn't you TELL me? 🖕🏼
Kim: I don't have the parts for that.
Chay: Don't remind me 😞
Porsche: I'm going to ignore you just saying that and instead ask for clarification. Whose baby did you steal? You're too young to be a parent. You have your college interview and practical coming up.
Macau: Does P’Pete’s dad have another baby he was mistreating that you took?
Pete: I am in this group chat, Macau.
Macau: Sorry 😬
Chay: He's not a human baby! He's a dog!
Porsche: Chay! Dogs are a big responsibility! What about college?
Chay: I can walk him on some parts of campus! You are acting like I can’t take him anywhere. And even if I can't take him somewhere, you are acting like you won't watch him.
Porsche: I won't! You got yourself into this mess! I'm not taking care of him!
Chay: Meet Koda!
Porsche: …I will protect him with my life.
Pol: Awwwww ♥️
Khun: HE IS THE CUTEST DOG IN THE WORLD!!!! I’M AN UNCLE!!!! ❤️🧡🧡💚🩵💙
Nalin: You already are an uncle, Khun! 🙂♥️
Arm: Why are you in this group chat???
Nalin: To gather stray gossip about you. You're SO interesting despite how boring you can be.
Arm: Who added you?
Nalin: Why do you not want me included? You could just be grateful that I take an interest in your life?
Arm: Huh?
Porsche: Did he pose like that?
Chay: Yes! He was jumping for a ball. When I pulled my phone out to take a picture, he looked at me, then stood up on his hind legs and gave me that look! He's SO smart and sweet. I love him more than I have ever loved anyone.
Porsche: Wow. Kim and I are RIGHT HERE.
Kim: He has said it fifteen times to me and your ma already. We both accept it. He's a sweet dog. Great actor too. He acted sickly and depressed while we were at the shelter. We took him to the pet store and that all stopped. He kept pulling us through the aisles and taking all the toys he was interested in off the hooks.
Chay: And he got every single one because he deserves them. 🥰
Kim: Not for his abilities on a leash.
Chay: Fine. He needs some practice on a leash. But he doesn't jump on anyone unless you prompt him to jump up on his hind legs. He's perfect. And he wasn't faking being sick, Kim. You know he has problems. We can both see the polyp and inflammation in his ear! But Kim is telling the truth. His personality changed within minutes. It must have sunk in that he finally found a loving home. ♥️ Mindset and support can do wonders to alleviate depression and chronic pain! He's not even 3 yet and the staff said his asshole owner dropped him off there when he was only 8 months old! He was there for over two years and no one showed him any interest because of his ear problems. I can't believe that vet wouldn't come out and operate on him for another week. That's why we got a hold of Phoenix’s vet. We dropped his paperwork off at the office and he said he could do the surgery in two days.
Kim: Probably for the best. That way, you aren't stressing about it and compromising your interview and practical.
Chay: Or when we meet with your label next weekend.
Kim: OUR label.
Arm: Are you both sitting at the park together but talking through here?
Chay: You all are free to jump in at any moment.
Nalin: Your dog is really cute, Chay! I love dogs. ♥️
Macau: You do? I do too! I’ve been thinking about getting a dog.
Vegas: Since when? You've never even had one.
Macau: I've always wanted one.
Nalin: If you get one, Preeda volunteers at a rescue near our apartment.
Macau: I'll go there first ☺️
Nalin: 😁
Arm: 🤨
Vegas: 🙄
Pete: Do you have more pictures, Chay?
Pete: Very cute. 🙂
Kinn: I'm looking forward to meeting him. 🙂
Tankhun: I am too! 🤗 Although, it is bad timing.
Chay: Getting Koda today was PERFECT timing.
Kim: He will not take any critique that includes Koda’s name in it. Watch it. He's come up with three songs about him in the last twenty minutes.
Porsche: Aww. Are they good?
Kim: They’re…songs.
Tankhun: I'm not critiquing a new family member. But I was going to reach out in a bit to see if you, Kinn, Vegas, and Macau were available tonight. I wanted to go to Yok’s together and rent out the VIP room for long overdue brotherly/cousinly drunken bonding!!! 😩
Vegas: You want to get drunk together?
Tankhun: Of course!
Vegas: What's your angle?
Tankhun: Finding out Pa’s angle is my angle! And I want to spend time with my brothers - who know him the best, as well as with you and Macau - who hate him the most!
Vegas: How did the breakfast with him go?
Tankhun: He arrived set on ending the relationship and ended up taking away Arm’s guard status!
Nalin: You don't have a job anymore, Hia???
Tankhun: He gave him a better job. Arm is to solely focus on the technical aspect of our security system. The only duty he will be keeping from his time as head guard is overseeing the intake and routine trainings. To fill up his time, Pa has offered him the Chief Information Officer for the Theerapanyakul Luxury and Amenities Brand. And then, he called him “son.” 🤢
Vegas: Sounds like he actually approves, but has taken an interest in him. That sucks.
Macau: Congratulations on the new job, Arm. 🙂
Arm: Thank you?
Vegas: 🙄 Suck up.
Arm: What?
Nalin: Glad you're not jobless. You get dangerous when you're bored. That's what Malai and Hansa always say.
Arm: They exaggerate.
Pol: You literally built toy cars that explode on a slow work day.
Vegas: YOU built those?
Tankhun: To be fair, I gave him the idea.
Vegas: Well, I figured that.
Tankhun: Let’s get drunk together and move past it! Macau too!
Vegas: No Macau.
Macau: Hia, I am legally allowed to drink now.
Vegas: Not around me.
Macau: Fine. I will just go somewhere else and drink. Alone.
Vegas: You won't.
Macau: Why can't I see you drunk? You're a messy drunk, aren't you?
Vegas: No
Tankhun: I can't speak for Vegas, but I can assure you I am incredibly classy and low-key when I am under the influence.
Arm: 😂🤣😂
Tankhun: ARM, YOU ARE ONE TO USE THOSE EMOJIS TO TRY AND ACT LIKE YOU ARE A BETTER DRUNK THAN ME! 🥃🍻🕺🏼⛳
Pol: I don’t remember Arm ever golfing when he was drunk…
Nalin: I want to see Hia drunk.
Arm: Absolutely not.
Tankhun: I promise we will have a girls’ night, Nalin. I am in full support of Arm inviting you girls to spend time with Pete, Pol, and Porsche. If you choose to drink together, that's your call. But I feel like an exclusive hang out with my brother and cousins is needed at Yok’s
Nalin: Fine. I will crash your hangout at Pete’s, Hia.
Macau: I will be home too. Hia doesn't want me to go to Yok’s. Sorry, Khun.
Vegas: Changed my mind. You can go.
Macau: It's okay. I don't want to make you feel weird. That's how nice I am.
Tankhun: You're going, Macau. It's required!
Macau: Whatever…
Nalin: 🫶🏼
Tankhun: Aw, Nalin. You're so sweet. ♥️ you too!
Chay: Kim can go. Koda and I will be fine. We're heading back now. 🙂
Tankhun: Yayyyyy! I can't wait to meet my new nephew and spend time with my brothers and cousins tonight!!! It will be so much fun!
Vegas: If you say so?
Macau: …Yay.
Tankhun: Oh, fuck off! We all made up! See you at 8. 🖕🏼
#progression 27#progression preview#progression spoilers#text scene#kimchay fanfic#armkhun fic#kimchay fic
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U should write more Ian x reader, like a besties to lovers one? No pressure if ur busy ofc <3
More Than Friends || Ian Hecox x reader
⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • smosh masterlist ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚
summary: you have been ignoring your growing feelings for your best friend ian, but when you are chosen to do a romantic scene together will those feelings stay hidden?
word count: 3.5k
warnings: mild cursing
a/n: ahh thank you so much for this request ml, i’ve been meaning to write for ian again!! hope you enjoy this and have a wonderful day!! 🎀☁️🍒
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“Ok, hear me out. The story is ‘getting a root canal’ but we make it a full on musical with production numbers and everything.”
Angela’s loud voice broke over the chatter you had been drowning out and you looked across the table.
You had been sitting in an early-morning writers meeting discussing ideas for a new sketch for what felt like hours.
Whoever thought it would be a good idea to make you and everyone else be creative at 8:00am….
“Angela,” Chanse chided.
“What? I had a dentist appointment this morning and I was inspired.”
“Anyone else have any ideas that don’t have the words ‘root canal’ in them?” Chanse asked.
“What screams Smosh more than a root canal musical!” Angela looked around the room for help.
Alas, it didn’t look like you were getting anywhere anytime soon.
You watched as Ian, who sat to your left, let his head slip from his hand where it had been rested on the table.
“Look alive, Mr. President-of-the-company,” you whispered to him, covering the fact that you had definitely been watching him longer than was friend-like.
Looks like you weren’t the only one who suffered from drowsiness that morning.
“I was totally paying attention,” Ian yawned. “Something about boats.”
You rolled your eyes and smiled at your best friend. You’d known Ian since you two were little—in fact, he was the reason you'd got your job at Smosh all those years back.
You’d been staying with him for the past week while your apartment was being renovated and you'd definitely stayed up too late last night watching reruns of friends. Which probably contributed to you both nodding off during this meeting.
“Twenty bucks says someone suggests kiss currency part two,” you whispered to Ian.
“Are you kidding? No way I’m gonna take you up on that, I don’t have spare cash on me.”
“Did someone say kissing?” Courtney waggled her eyebrows.
“Yeah, (Y/n) was just begging me to suggest a kissing sketch,” Ian teased.
You smacked Ian’s arm, feeling your cheeks warm. “I was not!”
“Ian just wants to kiss you, that’s all,” Anthony leaned over his friend to tell you conspiratorially.
Ian pretended to gag. “I’d rather kiss Shayne.”
“Hey!” Shayne threw up his hands in outrage.
You laughed along with everyone but you couldn’t stop yourself from clenching your fist around your coffee mug.
You couldn’t exactly pinpoint when you had begun to have feelings for Ian that were more than friendly. One minute he was just your best friend Ian and the next he was this funny, attractive guy who made your pulse race when he touched your arm or gave you one of his smiles.
You knew Ian didn’t return your feelings—you were sure of that. This new development was entirely one sided. Which was why you were absolutely, definitely never going to tell him. Ever.
You sighed as you watched Ian lean away from you and towards Anthony to whisper something to him.
Everyone was silent for a moment and you leaned back in your seat, running a hand through your hair.
“Hey, to piggyback off of the kissing thing,” Anthony started, his voice breaking through the silence, “what if we did an ‘every dramatic love confession scene ever’? It’s been a while since we’ve done that style of video.”
“Ooh good idea,” Ian said, “Those ‘we want the old Smosh’ people will love that. I can already see the views.”
“Always ‘the content’ with you,” you teased him.
“He’s right though,” Spencer chimed in, “Especially if we had you and Ian do some scenes together. People would eat that up; it’ll give ‘em more material for their edits. I’m talking Shourtney part two.”
You watched as Shayne and Courtney looked at each other and grinned. Damn it, why couldn’t you and Ian be like them!
But, Spencer wasn’t wrong. Ever since you had begun working at Smosh, fans had been convinced you and Ian were dating. You guys had always laughed about all of the comments and posts together.
You and Ian? As if!
But lately, as you watched the fan edits and read the YouTube comments, you couldn’t help but wish that you and Ian actually were what all of these people thought you were.
“I can see it now: April 1st, 2025, Ian and (Y/n). Shourtney part two” Ian echoed Spencer’s comment and nodded. “Zach Justice and Tara level shipping.”
“You know who they are, grandpa?” You snorted.
“For the last time, I’m four months older than you!”
You laughed as Ian spoke again.
“I mean, I’m in if you’re in,” he turned to you, “For the sketch. If you don’t mind pretending to be into me. I know it’ll be hard not to fall hopelessly in love with me.”
“How will I ever manage,” you deadpanned sarcastically, even as your palms began to feel sweaty. Ignoring your feelings on a daily basis was hard enough, let alone doing a love scene together. But you couldn’t very well refuse and have everyone, including Ian, wonder why.
Besides, it could be fun. It’d been a while since you’d done a sketch, and regardless of how you felt about Ian, he was still your best friend and you would get to spend a lot of time on set with him.
You took a deep breath. You were probably going to regret the next words that came out of your mouth.
“Let’s do it”
₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚
“Shut up and kiss me,” you said, throwing your pretend purse to the ground as you stepped forwards.”
“Not until you promise me that I’m the only one,” Ian sniffed dramatically. “I cant lose you again, baby.”
“It’s only you,” you yelled, “It’s always only been you.”
“Then kiss me,” Ian took a step towards you. “Kiss me like you’ve never kissed anyone before.”
“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that,” you leaned in.
“And then we kiss,” Ian said in a lighter voice, breaking character as you ended the scene. “I feel like it should be raining in the background of this, damn. Ooh, note to self: talk to them about fake rain.”
“Right,” you smiled shakily, trying not to let the scene have affected you. You were at Ian’s place—your apartment still wasn’t livable—and Ian had suggested you rehearse your scene again for the shoot the next day.
You had just received the script and were already panicking a how real it all was. The two characters in the scene were friends who fell in love with each other. Just your luck.
You silently cursed whoever had written the whole thing.
“So do you want to rehearse the kiss before tomorrow?” Ian’s voice brought you out of your thoughts.
“Oh, um, I think it might be better if we just wing it. You know, realistic first kiss and all.”
“As long as you don’t pull a Jennifer Lawrence on me,” Ian laughed, “No garlic fries.”
You placed a hand to your chest in mock surprise, “Wow Ian, two pop culture references in one day? I’m so proud.”
“I learned from the best,” Ian booped your nose and you felt your heart flutter.
You flopped down on your couch-bed in the middle of the living room and kicked your pajama-pant-clad legs out in front of you.
Ian sat down next to you and picked up the TV remote. “Do you mind?”
You shook your head as he turned on the television. A show was playing that you’d definitely seen before, but you weren’t paying attention.
You couldn’t focus on anything but Ian’s presence next to you as he scooted closer to you and laid his arm over the back of the couch behind you. He smelled like pine and soap and a hint of the day’s cologne and the scent was so familiar and so damn attractive that you couldn’t ever imagine a time when you hadn’t wanted him all over you. How had you been so ignorant then?
You rested your head on Ian’s chest and let out a sigh. All of this was so normal—you two laying there, watching TV, falling asleep next to each other—and yet it felt so different.
Ian kissed the top of your head gently and mumbled “Goodnight, (Y/n).”
You muttered a soft, “‘Night.”
Sometimes, when you were really desperate, you imagined that your best friend felt the same way about you that you did about him. In all the little ways that he made you feel special and loved, you found an almost something. It was times like these that you let yourself imagine, what if?
But then you reminded yourself that you and Ian had always been this way. The only difference was your pulse racing and your heart jumping into your throat whenever he looked at you or touched you.
You let your eyes close as the sounds of whatever comedy was on played in the background.
It was strange how you could feel so anxious and so comfortable at the same time. Despite all the new uneasiness that came with your romantic feelings towards Ian, you were still calmed by his presence. You still knew him better than anyone else. You still wanted this forever. Which is why you couldn’t let yourself change things.
You felt Ian wrap his arm around you and you shifted slightly on the bed. This felt right, you thought. How could you dare mess that up with unrequited love making everything difficult?
Because that was scary. Changing everything was scary. Losing him was scary. But this? This was comfortable, you thought. And it was true.
You had never felt more comfortable before in your life.
₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚
You had never felt more uncomfortable in your life.
You’d thought last night was awkward, reading through the script with Ian. But today, as you reminded yourself you’d have to kiss him and not make it seem like it meant anything to you, you were sweating through your floral-pattern dress.
“Hey (Y/n)!”
You spun around to find Ian wearing a full on tuxedo, complete with a boutonnière and everything.
“Wow, you look—”
“Like prom threw up on me? Yeah, I know,” Ian joked, “But you look like the lead in a romcom so thumbs up costume coordinator.”
You looked down at your dress. You had gone to costuming earlier on and had just come out of hair and makeup. You hoped you hadn't already sweated it all off.
You looked back up at Ian. He looked—well, aside from drop dead gorgeous—like he had eaten something that didn’t quite agree with him.
You opened your mouth to ask if he was feeling ok when you were called to set by one of the directors.
“Looks like that’s us,” Ian smiled but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
You walked over to the set that you would be using, which looked like the outside of a building that could have been a school or a convention center. Apparently Angela had just had it lying around from a previous play. It looked really realistic, almost too realistic.
You took a deep breath as you stepped onto set and Ian followed you.
You got this, you told yourself, you know all of your lines and you’re not going to mess this up.
You looked out at the rest of the Smosh cast and crew, busy on set or waiting for their scenes.
“Ok and rolling…” you heard the director call.
You prepared yourself. Ian stepped to the side of you. “You ready for this?”
“Yeah,” you whispered, “definitely. Are you ok? You look pretty pale.”
“I’m good,” Ian assured you with a nod, “just ate some weird pistachios at the snack table. I’d stay away if I were you.”
“Noted,” you giggled.
“…And Action!”
You immediately were thrown into the scene. Ian had the first line and you tried to get into character.
“What is your problem, Amy?” Ian said.
“My problem?” you spat, trying to channel your inner romcom protagonist, “Are you really going to make me sit here and spell it out for you, Jake?”
“That’d be nice,” Ian—Jake—scoffed.
“Fine,” you made your voice shaky, “You wanna know what my problem is? My problem is that you came here with Veronica when you knew that all I wanted to do was be your date tonight.”
“How would I know that? Was I supposed to just guess? You’re my best friend, Amy, why wouldn’t you just tell me!”
“You want to know why I didn’t tell you?” You—Amy—asked him. “Because you’re my best friend. That’s why. I’ve had to sit here and watch you with girl after girl while all I wanted was as to be one of them.”
You stepped closer to Ian as you kept saying your lines, trying to summon tears “I have been in love with you for years. Years, Jake. But I couldn’t tell you because I didn’t want to lose this.”
You gestured between the two of you, trying to clear your mind and do what you had rehearsed. You refused to let any of your own thoughts slip in.
You continued, “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. So go ahead. It’s ruined now. Go back to your date and have the best night with her. I’ll just be here on the sidelines like I always have been.”
You turned and pretended to walk away and as planned Ian grabbed your wrist and you spun around.
“You don’t get it,” he started, “I love you. I always have loved you. From the moment I met you, I have loved you. I love the way you tie your hair up when you’re working on something. I love the way your nose scrunches up when something amuses you. I love your perfume and the way it kinda makes me dizzy when I’m near you. I love you. I have never loved anyone more.”
Ian’s eyes were intense as he looked down at you.
“And I never told you because, look at you. You’re way out of my league, I was lucky to have you as a friend. But, it’s always been you. I love you so much and I can’t believe you love me back. I’ll keep saying it as long as I am still breathing. I love you, I love you, I love you.”
Even though it was acting, you’d never seen Ian like this. Not even when you were rehearsing. This was raw and emotional and it was hard not to let yourself believe it was real. The air was thick and you were both breathing heavy, the room silent except for the synchronized sound of your breathing. You stepped towards Ian, preparing to tell him to ‘shut up and kiss you’, as the script said, but he kept speaking.
“I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to say all this. But, I want to be more than friends. And now that you know, will you be more than friends with me, (Y/n)?”
You jolted at his use of your name and not your character’s. None of this was in the script, as far as you knew.
“Ian—” You whispered, looking around.
He took your hands, swallowing hard. “This is real, (Y/n). And I meant every word.”
You couldn’t process what was happening. You searched Ian’s face and he looked honest and hopeful and a little scared. But he was sincere. You didn’t see any evidence that this was some kind of practical joke. Was Ian saying…
You moved to stand even closer to him.
“Shut up and kiss me,” you said hesitantly, saying the line you were supposed to say earlier.
A slow smile came to Ian’s face, getting what you were doing. “Not until you promise me that I’m the only one, I cant lose you again, baby.”
“It’s only you,” you whispered, “It’s always only been you.”
“Then kiss me,” Ian said. “Kiss me like you’ve never kissed anyone before.”
“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that,” you leaned in.
And scene, You thought, So much for not letting this be real.
And then your lips were on his, and you were kissing him. And Ian was kissing you back. He grabbed your waist and pulled you closer to him. You ran your hands through his hair and you felt him shiver beneath your touch.
As you kissed Ian, your best friend, you silently thanked your luck—that this had happened, that Ian returned your feelings.
Ian pulled away gently, brushing your hair back from your face.
“Wow,” you breathed, “that was—”
“That was everything I’d imagined it would be,” Ian said.
And then, all of a sudden, the entire studio burst into applause. You looked out at all of your friends and cast mates clapping and cheering for you. Had they been in on this the whole time? Had they all known that Ian would break character and confess real feelings for you?
“Just to be sure,” Ian said, “You do actually like me back right? You weren’t just finishing the scene?”
You laughed, “Yes, Ian, I like you. A lot.”
“Phew,” Ian laughed, calling out to the people gathered, “It’s a yes guys, she said yes! And sorry about ruining the shoot!”
“You kidding? That was the most realistic love scene I’ve ever seen. How could we not use that?” Anthony called back.
You giggled and placed your hands on Ian’s chest, “About that, I didn’t know you could be so cheesy and romantic.”
“Only for you,” he said. “And I wouldn’t say cheesy. Poetic and beautiful, maybe.”
You rolled your eyes at him, but you’d never been happier. You wouldn’t be able to stop smiling for days. And you didn’t want to.
All this time, as you’d been battling your own feelings, Ian had had feelings for you. You no longer had to pretend, because everything you wanted with Ian was already happening.
You smiled up at him, “I love you, Ian.”
You had said it so many times platonically, but it felt different now. And yet the same.
“I love you so much, (Y/n).”
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You put your hair up into a ponytail as you walked towards Ian’s office. You had changed out of your romcom dress and back into the clothes you wore to the studio today. Now that you were done with the shoot, Ian had said he wanted to take you out. Your first real date.
You rounded the corner and went to enter Ian’s doorway, but you stopped when you heard voices.
“Hey, thanks man,” Ian’s voice carried into the hallway. “Thanks for suggesting that sketch.”
“Anything for my friend,” Anthony said. “When your best friend whispers ‘hey can you suggest a sketch where me and (Y/n) have to be romantic together’ you step up.”
You strained to hear. What? Was Ian saying he had planned that whole thing? He was the one who wanted to do that sketch?
“Besides,” Anthony continued, “I didn’t even really do anything. You wrote the whole thing. Speaking of which, damn man, warn somebody! I’ll bring tissues to set next time.”
You couldn’t believe it! That entire scene, about two random characters, Ian had written it all for you and him.
“You wrote all that?” You stepped into Ian’s office a look of shock on both men’s faces.
“(Y/n), how much of that did you hear?” Ian asked nervously.
“Enough to be even more in love with you than when I walked over here, if that’s possible.”
Ian looked relieved as he came over to you and put his arms around you. “Well, then yeah, I wrote it. And I meant every word I said about loving you.”
“Wow, I gotta work on my speech writing skills,” you teased, “I didn’t know I was best friends with The Bard himself this whole time.”
“It’s a gift,” Ian smiled, kissing you softly. “And I had plenty of time to practice being poetic, being in love with you for years.
“I’m going to go,” Anthony’s voice interrupted, “because I feel like a third wheel and not because my eyes are watering—damn allergies. I’m so happy for both of you.”
Anthony left the room and you both burst into laughter.
Ian placed a soft kiss to your lips again, and you smiled. You couldn’t believe this was your reality.
Some of your best memories and moments were with Ian as a best friend. And now you got to experience a whole new world with Ian your boyfriend. You couldn’t wait.
You were wrong the night before, you thought, as Ian wrapped his arms around you.
This, this was the most comfortable you’d ever been.
“Hey, I hate to interrupt,” Angela peeked into the room, “but now that we’re done with the operation-get-Ian-and-(Y/n)-together sketch—congrats by the way—where are we at on Root Canal the Musical?”
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hope y’all enjoyed this!! if you did, check out my other ian fic + my ian hcs 🤭🍓💌
#ian hecox x reader#ian hecox#smosh#smosh fanfiction#smosh imagine#anthony padilla#smosh x reader#fanfiction#fanfic#reader insert#x reader
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I want to murder the love I feel for the man that cheated on me twice and beat the fuck out of me every day while claiming he loved me more than anything
#He is now dating the girl he cheated on me with at LEAST twice FOUR years ago :-)#so awesome and great for me to know they probably stayed in contact that whole time! love that!#found out bc he got a text and it said ‘I could kiss you all day’.#while we were together and everything was fine. I don’t understand why he did that.#this shit literally makes me want to off myself lol#and it fucking sucks because we dated for five years and it was so good for so long#and I love him more than I’ve ever loved anyone#but there’s nothing I can do#he also was the one who got me addicted to fentanyl.#and as soon as he went to rehab and got sober he left me. I wasn’t clean yet and could have died and he just left.#found out soon after he’d been seeing her.#when he cheated he sent me multiple pictures of her naked and her in our bed.#and my dumbass got back together with him.#every time#I was fucked up before this relationship but now I am literally irreparable#I can’t heal from this shit#he’d tell me to kill myself#and say he wished I was dead#knowing how difficult shit was for me and how suicidal I was#he’d strangle me and spit on me and trip me and punch me in the face#he’d constantly tell me I ruined every aspect of his life and that I was the worst thing that ever happened to him.#then he’d tell me that I’m abusive because of my mental illnesses.#I’m so tired :(#I’m so fucking damaged and broken from this shit I cannot even put it into words.#abuse tw#physical abuse tw#physical abuse cw
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This week on Kingohger… Gerojim takes a paid vacation to go ice fishing and has a nice, relaxing time after the DANG week he’s had.
#kingohger#ohsama sentai kingohger#gerojim#super sentai#fan art#i am the number one gerojim fan#that was a big claim#i wont fight anyone for the title lol#lets be friends actually aaaahaha!#i love him so much though#did you know mayflies spend the majority of their lives as aquatic nymphs?#i’ve been taken in by the bug propaganda…. i know more about mayflies now than ever ssjffsdjsfjdsf
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tomorrow is my nineteenth birthday. i can’t believe i’ve lived this long, i didn’t expect to live past sixteen yet alone get to nineteen. this is a crazy thing to process, i still can’t buy anything i want to, still can’t rent a car, still can’t buy a hotel room, still can’t do literally anything but to me it’s still a milestone of how strong i am for continuing to live despite everything.
#actually bpd#bpd problems#bpd vent#actually borderline#actually mentally ill#bpd fp#bpd#bpd shitposting#bpd favorite person#bpd mood#this made me tear up a little bit just because i’ve been through so much and despite not wanting to exist.. having people acknowledge you#despite everything in your life that’s negative is a nice thing to go through#my fp and his sister want to do something small for my birthday and that makes me wanna cry#it was his sisters idea.. she loves me that much she’s willing to throw a mini party for me#dude i truly am so lucky to have him in my life.. he’s given me more strength and support than anyone has ever given me#his sister is so sweet too.. just gah im so in love with him
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I actually had more sympathy for Jesse’s parents on this rewatch. Like overall they’re not some abusive monsters who never cared about him. They very obviously DO care about him. Their house felt safe enough to Jesse that he went there when the meth had him feeling paranoid and strung out. When Jesse calls his dad after being questioned by the DEA he mentions getting a job “in data entry, like we talked about”, and Jesse’s mom says “I can’t do this again”, and Jake says Jesse’s all they ever talk about, so they’re obviously in a cycle of trying to help Jesse and seeing him go back to drugs. It’s easy for us to kind of forget the ramifications, because of the scope of the show and because we love Jesse and are seeing his POV and definitely because Aaron Paul’s teeth and skin are nice lol, but Jesse is addicted to crystal meth. And he’s SELLING crystal meth! This is not just weed. It’s a pretty big fucking deal. And his parents talk about getting him help, and they let him come inside and sleep and eat a few meals and wash his clothes. Maybe you could consider that the bare minimum, but it is something. When Hank is talking to Jesse’s mom, she’s not dismissive of Jesse or uncaring. She’s obviously very sad about the state of Jesse’s life, and when she starts to clock that Hank’s investigating Jesse, she gets protective and makes Hank leave. They evicted Jesse from his aunt’s house, but to give them a bit of grace, his mom did find his literal meth lab in the basement lmao. Which they threatened to tell the DEA about but never actually did. They seem to be in that place with an addict where you’re trying to balance giving support without enabling; his dad even says they need to try tough love. (Personally I think it shows they don’t really know Jesse all that well because tough love is not the right method for him, but they probably feel like they’ve tried everything else.) When Jesse’s talking about that perfect box he made in shop, his initial lie is that he gave it to his mom, and when he tells the truth it’s clear he really regrets that he didn’t actually do that. In El Camino, I really think they want him to turn himself in because they think he’ll be safer and maybe they think he’ll get some leeway if he turns himself in rather than getting caught. It doesn’t seem like they call the cops when he calls and asks them to come get him; they rush out right away and all the police are in regular, unmarked cars.
But….
I can never give them grace or forgive them for that car decal that was Mom, Dad, and Jake but no Jesse. Like what the hell is that?? And it seems absolutely outrageous to me that his parents, with everything that happened between them and everything they’re seeing on the news, took the opportunity to talk to him and only said “turn yourself in.” No “I love you.” No “be safe.” His dad saying they hadn’t talked to him in a long time, since “way before all this” really rankled, too. They purposefully distanced themselves from him. They made sure to say on the news that they’re not involved in this because they’re not in his life. I really do think they cared and were scared for him. But at every turn it just seemed like they didn’t care enough to actually understand what he needed or how to get through to him.
#brba#jesse pinkman#el Camino#he really tries to keep Jake from following his path and oh my heart#I’ve always read Jesse as probably having undiagnosed or at least untreated ADHD#we know he’s so much smarter than anyone gives him credit for but he kept getting ‘apply yourself’#he has to care about things to do them well#anyway my tragic baby boy#i love him with my whole heart#and I’ve always hated his parents but as I get older and rewatch I have more sympathy for them#I doubt he ever went to rehab before but they certainly couldn’t have afforded a place like he goes to ever Jane dies#plus he wouldn’t ever go before#he really only went after Jane bc he was so catatonic with drugs and grief that I imagine Walt literally just dropped him at the door#his dad sounds happy when he says ‘you look good’ when he sees Jesse after rehab but he’s still cautious#god I wish he would’ve just said yes Jesse come over for dinner tonight#I hope someday Jesse was able to find a way to get word to them that he’s okay#nothing they can trace to find him#but just to let them know#it always seemed like his mom cared more despite that slap#his dad wanted to be tough but I don’t think his mom did#and I’m not saying Jesse turning to drugs or any of this is their fault obviously#it’s just very sad
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