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hardlyinteresting · 2 months

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Love, Guilt and Other Wounds

Aaron Hotchner x female reader

When Aaron and his partner are taken hostage, he has to break her heart to save her life.

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, a little bit of domestic fluff, mention of blood, injury (non-graphic), hostage situation, knives, cannon-compliant themes of violence, non-detailed discussion about religion (Christianity), themes of childhood abuse, please let me know if you want me to add anything else.

Word count: (less than I expected, sorry) 3.7k Request here! | Masterlist

"Of course, I’ll hurt you. Of course, you’ll hurt me. Of course, we will hurt each other. But this is the very condition of existence. To become spring means accepting the risk of winter. To become presence, means accepting the risk of absence". - Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

Aaron isn't sure if he believes in a God or a higher power. He was taught to read scripture; and spent Sunday mornings perfecting his posture in church pews-- starched shirts and neckties pulled too tight. The preacher's sermons left him wanting-- wondering how this man of God could stand over his congregation preaching every week, and not see all the lies they were holding back. How could he not see the secrets Aaron seemed to read so clearly? At just fourteen Aaron knew who was having an affair and with whom. He could see which children feared their fathers. Every pew had another story, another family growing together, or falling apart. The hypocrisy of it all drove him mad, and he imagined standing from his seat to shout it, overwhelmed as he realized he had unintentionally become the keeper of everyone's secrets. He learned that everyone in that church was a liar in their own right, and he hated it. But, when he left for college, his mother called to ask if he was still going to church on Sundays, and he lied and said yes.

He should have paid more attention. Maybe then he'd understand how he ended up here. Perhaps it's some sick retribution. A cosmic evening of the scales; his penance for his sins. He just wishes you weren't here with him. How dare he think he could love someone when all he's ever done is punish those who love him? His hands are stained with blood; he taints everything he touches.

Very early on in his career, Aaron learned he couldn’t take cases personally. As devastating as it was to have another victim show up while hunting a killer, it wasn’t a personal failure. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. He repeated the process again and again. Logically he knows that he is not responsible for the actions of the aggressive sociopath who is now holding the two of you hostage; but, he blames himself for not keeping you safer, for bringing you with him, and for putting you in harm's way. He knows he will not recover if you don’t make it out of here. He won’t forgive himself.

The profile said this man would be anti-social. Physically, he’d be small in stature. It was clear he’d been sneaking up on his victims. He had been taking couples, knocking out the men with a blow to the back of the head, and then the women. It’s a method that the team had seen before, common for UNSUBs without the social ability to lure their victims, or the physical strength or confidence to attack head-on. But they had not profiled that he would escalate to taking out his targets with a taser.

After six days in San Diego, the team finally had a lead on two rental properties in the UNSUB’s comfort zone. One was an old tyre factory, listed as a multipurpose warehouse and storage space; the other was a large storage facility in an industrial neighbourhood. Both units had been paid for in cash, both offered the privacy and space required to hold and torture two people for days at a time. The team split up, Hotch and you arranged to meet the owner of the factory space to find out more about who the renter was and gain access to the property. With no response from the owner of the second property, Morgan, Prentiss, and Rossi headed over to check it out.

The two of you had only been on the property for five minutes before Aaron had been incapacitated and taken out. He had foolishly made his way into the building while you ran back to the SUV to grab your jacket. Out cold, there was nothing Aaron could do to stop you from meeting the same fate.

It’s not his fault. But he feels like it is as he watches you shiver from across the room. He can’t be certain how much time has passed, but it feels like hours. He can only hope that you’re being kept in the building you were attacked in, that the team will connect the dots and come and get you, but until then you’re stuck. He watches, nauseated as your eyes flutter open, and then shut again. You’re concussed, he doesn’t need to be a doctor to know that. His ears are ringing, and he’s sure the blow he took to the head has at the very least temporarily worsened his hearing.

“Doesn’t the FBI have rules against fraternization?” The UNSUB wonders out loud, waving a knife around as he walks towards you.

“What makes you think we’re a couple?” Hotch asks, as he tries to work his hands free from the rope that binds them behind his back, “She’s just a colleague”.

It’s a lie. But it needs to be said. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. Buy time, shift the UNSUB’s interest away from the two of you. Ruin the fantasy.

“I think I’ve been doing this long enough to know a couple when I see a couple, Aaron,” the man taunts, obviously proud of himself. He’s feeling emboldened having taken two FBI agents, but that works in your favour. He’s getting cocky, too full of himself. It’s a level of confidence he isn’t used to having, it just gives him a higher height to fall from. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. “I think it’s time we wake your girlfriend up,” the man says, his hand gripping tightly at your hair, your head tugged back without remorse.

Aaron resists the urge to cringe as he hears you groan, your face twisted with obvious pain as you’re rudely awakened. “She’s pretty. What’s she doing with you?”

“I told you. She’s a colleague”.

Your eyes are unfocused, scanning the room trying to make sense of what is going on.

The man raises the knife, holding it to your throat. This time Aaron blinks, desperate to control his expressions and micro-expressions. In this scenario, the less he cares about you, the safer you are.

It’s the burden of being tied to him. Time after time his love destroys people.

The blade presses closer to your throat. Aaron controls his breathing.

“Impressive agent Hotchner. But I’m still not convinced,” the UNSUB moves the blade but pulls your head back further. Your eyes meet Aaron’s, “Do what you’re going to do, he doesn’t care,” you say. You’re speaking to the man with the knife in his hand as much as you’re speaking to Aaron. He weighs his options, his heart pounding as he watches you hold your breath, willing the tears to leave your eyes. It’s the permission he needs but doesn’t want. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. He knows you’re doing the same, telling him to break your heart to save your life.

“Please, Hotc--”.

He doesn’t let you finish, “Just shut up for once. Please,” he thinks the words cut through him more than they cut through you. Knowing his cruelty is a lie does little to soften the blow, and it breaks his heart to be the one throwing it.

But this is all he’s good for, isn’t it? Letting people down. Surely it’s not just coincidence that so many of those who have dared to love him end up damaged. One way or another he destroys people. Who is he to say that he’s the one who is suffering when it’s he who does all the damage?

Even as a child, he couldn’t help it. He thinks perhaps he inherited his sharpened tongue and lack of patience from his mother. She loved him in her own way but could never show it without first tearing him apart. Her biting words, and regular beatings. Prentiss had been right when she once said he was distrustful of women-- unfairly so. Not all women carry the hateful, spiteful heart his mother had. Very few had ever turned their rage at the world and their shortcomings into a personal and violent rage against him. He grew weary nonetheless. Better safe than sorry.

At a young age, it became clear to him that there were few things, if anything, as important to his mother than appearances. On Sundays, she fussed over his clothes and his posture. She lectured him on table manners from the moment he could hold a fork. His room had to be spotless. His grades had to surpass average. Long before his brother was ever born, he learned how to live up to her expectations. But still, there was always something she could find him lacking in, an excuse to take her open fist or wooden spoon to his skin, a reason to send him to bed without dinner. He remembers crashing into the china cabinet trying to escape her one night. She was mortified on Monday when he had to walk into school on Monday with a cast around his arm. “Make sure they know this was your fault,” she told him. Perhaps I was built to fail, he had thought. She loves me and I embarrass her. I will only ever let her down. God, how disappointed she would be to see him now.

Seconds feel like hours as the UNSUB leers expectantly. The man's mouth twists into a smile when he sees the tears forming in your waterline again. Aaron watches your fist clench presumably to distract yourself from the migraine that matches the pounding in his head, just as much as it is to pull your attention away from the hurtful lies he's about to weave.

“You were supposed to have my back,” Arron spits with faux vitriol. “You had one job and couldn't even manage to do that”. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward.

“From the moment you showed up I knew you'd be a problem”.

He continues to try to work his hands out from the binds. He can feel the knot loosening as he continues to buy the two of you time. “Aaron,” you beg, tears slipping down your cheeks now.

“Following me around with some school girl crush. Look where we are now,” Aaron breathes.

He can feel his father’s rage resting on his shoulders, as heavy as his hands were when he used to pat him on the back. It’s a quiet burning, far more silent than his mother’s anger, but it’s there and threatening him all the same. A silent shame; a fear induced by the knowledge that he’s failing but not being able to stop it. His father lived like a ghost in their home, just as Aaron has learned to haunt his life. He only ever raised his voice when he drank, but even then his hatred was self-directed. A sorrowful self-pity. A cry for help. The affairs, the gambling, the drinking; the man punished himself, stumbling home to a house with a vengeful wife, a silent boy, and a crying baby. It was a heart attack that finally killed him, but Aaron never doubted his father had stopped living long before that.

Aaron breaks his own heart as he delivers each verbal blow. He hopes you understand. He prays that just maybe your concussion might leave the memories of this moment blurry. Selfishly, he begs you to forgive him, because he won’t forgive himself.

He can see the way your wrists strain against your restraints. The UNSUB adjusts his grip on your hair as you struggle to distance yourself from him. Your eyelids flutter and he knows your vision must be swimming but you don’t give up. With a sadistic grin, the UNSUB wipes at the tear stain on your cheek with fake sympathy, grasping your jaw roughly he forces you to look straight at Aaron, “Poor girl… guess boss man doesn’t care about you after all. What a waste,” he sighs his breath heavy against your cheek, as he moves to hold the knife to your throat again, “She’s so pretty,” he directs his commentary at Aaron this time.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I’ve slept with her. How couldn’t I when she was practically throwing herself at me?” The words taste bitter on his tongue as he speaks them. His stomach churns as he continues, “But what we have certainly isn’t love”.

It couldn’t be further from the truth. Aaron grounds himself choosing to remember the quiet morning you two had shared only a few days earlier. Waking up without an alarm but with Jack sneaking in to jump up on the bed. As he watches you cry now he recalls how you had smiled so brightly at the little boy, ruffling his hair and cuddling Jack into your side. He had watched with a smile of his own as you bargained with his son, promising pancakes in exchange for ten more minutes of sleep on your shared day off.

You crept into his heart so slowly he had hardly noticed. Until one day, he looked up from the bright pink sticky note you'd left on your recent report, reminding him not to work too hard; he knew, without a doubt, he was in love with you.

For so much of his life, Aaron conditioned himself to expect a fight around every corner. He learned to make sacrifices from his happiness in fruitless attempts to keep peace. For the first time in forever he's been feeling like maybe, just maybe, he's enough. You’ve been more than patient with him; understanding his hesitance to open up to people again. You don't get upset with him for working late, but you scold him for not getting enough sleep and skipping meals.

He smiles more. He cracks jokes the way he used to. You've helped him see the forest from the trees-- healed parts of him he didn’t know needed mending. He's tried to do the same for you. He's watched you open up and trust the team more. He's seen the way your confidence has grown and he can't take credit for your growth, but he's enamoured by the transformation just the same.

You deserve better. You deserve better. You deserve better. The thought echoes in his head the same as it does most days. But now, it’s louder. The voice in his head matches the volume of the ringing in his ears, and the rushing sound of his pounding heart. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. He fights to remind himself, but the UNSUB is laughing now. Taunting you and your emotions, and there’s nothing Aaron can do but sit there and watch. He struggles to feign indifference, watching as you continue to make yourself smaller. It’s only then that he notices that you too are working your hands out of the rope that restrains you. The UNSUB was stupid enough to tie your wrist in front of you.

Aaron’s eyes focus on the bandaid wrapped around your index finger. You cut yourself making dinner last week. He could have sworn his heart melted when you turned to him holding your hand out, blood beading already. “Aaron, where do you keep your first aid kit?” you’d asked. Your brows furrowed, and your lips pouted. “In the bathroom, the cabinet under the sink,” he’d answered with no intention of letting you go off and tend to your wound alone. Instead, he guided you down the hall, his left hand looped in a gentle hold around your wrist, his other hand on your waist.

Once you were sat on the countertop he took great care, making sure the wound was cleaned before he bandaged it. “My hero,” you teased, leaning in for a kiss.

A simple cut he could manage to fix. Jack promised you could use as many of his Star Wars bandaids as you wanted while you healed as well. A little love and patience could make it better, a philosophy he adopted to heal Jack’s scraped knees, and schoolyard bruises. But the sight before him now is far worse than any kitchen mishap could be.

Your nose is still bleeding. Bruises have already begun to form, red marks turning deep purple with every passing minute. He knows that your concussion is something you'll recover from. The contact burns from where the taser touched your skin will become new skin someday soon. The cuts and scrapes will scab over and then disappear.

Aaron worries the damage he's done can never truly be ameliorated. Your compassion is unmatched. It’s what makes you a good agent, a good partner, and someone Jack can turn to. You are forgiving. God knows you've excused enough of his behaviour. But, he doesn't deserve to be absolved of this guilt. He will carry this day around in the darkest corner of his heart; the same place he holds the memory of Haley and how he failed her. The words “what we have certainly isn't love,” will linger uneffaced by time or kind words.

The squeak of an old door opening piques Aaron's interest. The UNSUB doesn't react. Seemingly only interested in tracing the tear tracks on your cheeks. Your eyes are closing again. It's over now, he wants to tell you. He wants to hold you; comfort you; to apologise because you deserve to hear it anyway.

“Paul Simpson. FBI,” Morgan’s voice booms, “drop the knife and put your hands where I can see them”. Prentiss and Dave come to stand next to Morgan, their guns trained on the newly identified perpetrator. Aaron bites his tongue so hard he can taste blood-- it's all he can do to stop himself from bursting into a fit of bitter laughter. We win, he wants to say.

Disarmed and handcuffed, Paul is escorted outside by Morgan and two members of the local police. Prentiss and Rossi make quick work of untying you and Aaron.

“Aaron?” he can hear you mutter, breathy and quiet.

“Yeah, I’m right here,” he promises kneeling at your side. Your eyes are glazed and unfocused as you nod and tip forward. Unconscious, your entire body falls forward into Prentiss’ arms. Aaron’s voice joins Rossi in calling for a paramedic.

The doctors assure him that you’ll wake up soon. They dealt with his injuries quickly. Bruised ribs are the worst of his injuries. A cut at the back of his head and the taser burns were patched in only a few minutes, though he’ll readily admit he was far from a good patient. Too anxious to keep still much to the nurse’s dismay.

You’re still asleep. A major concussion will have you out of the field for much longer than he knows you’ll be happy with. He makes a mental note to start setting aside some extra paperwork for when you inevitably start hounding him for something to do. With the lights in the room dimmed, and a comfortable silence settling he allows himself to indulge in the illusion that everything might be alright between you.

With your hand in his, he breathes deeply trying to focus. He prays to a God he’s not sure he believes in. And when the quiet starts to get to him, he speaks out loud, as silly as he thinks he may look. He tells you about the phone call he had with Jack earlier and lets you know that Jack has a new painting he can’t wait to show you when you get home. Your hand squeezes his, encouraging him to keep talking.

“Aaron?” your eyelids flutter as you adjust to the light. The nurse had them turned to the dimmest setting but it’s still far more than you feel immediately capable of coping with.

“Yeah, honey,” he affirms. You release the breath you’re holding your brow relaxing.

“I love you,” you tell him. Your voice is steady and steadfast. Your resolve is impressive, unwavering and determined as you focus on making eye contact with him. “It’s not your fault,” you promise. He’s sure you don’t expect the weight on his shoulders to lighten instantaneously. You’ll tell him every day that he’s not to blame; intent on chiselling away at his guilt, shrinking it down before it manages to consume him.

“I love you,” he swears. He knows it won’t squash any of the doubt he’s planted. Aaron knows there will soon be days that the niggling insecurity threatens to break what you’ve managed to build together; when the worry that you aren’t enough seems louder than it ever has before. He won’t blame you if you decide it isn’t worth the pain of staying with him. But, he’s hell-bent on loving you through it. He can only hope that it’s enough.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds fic #hotch x reader

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springwitch26 · 9 days

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flowers and firsts (melissa schemmenti x fem!reader)

summary: being the gracious friend you are, you offer to share your weed with melissa and jacob for a fun friday night at their place. when jacob goes to bed, things get heated between you and your favorite coworker.

warnings: smut (18+), consensual high sex, recreational marijuana use (be responsible), strap-ons, praise kink, vibrators, soft melissa, stoner reader, attempts at comedy (it's a fun fic guys), mario kart 8 GONE SEXUAL

notes: happy 4/20. this wasn't requested, but my OCD is beating the fuck out of me rn and writing it brought me comfort. let me know what you think. much love from your favorite slutty stoner 💚

"i know kids are curious, but eighth grade is a bit early to try weed, right?" jacob bounced his leg anxiously as he raised the question to his friends in the teachers' lounge. one of his students had just been suspended for bringing marijuana to school, and jacob was characteristically worried about the kid.

"i started in tenth grade, but teenagers are growin' up younger and younger these days," melissa responded. barbara raised her eyebrows in shock, and melissa reacted with an amused half-smile. "like trouble over here. when was your first time, hon?"

you tried to ignore the innuendo as melissa invited you into the conversation. you had been hired to teach the third grade a few months ago. you and melissa had a rapport from the first moment you walked into the lounge. every time you were in a room together, you made each other laugh. melissa made you feel at ease in your new workplace, and you felt lucky to have her.

because you both got along so well, ava often paired you up for team-building exercises and combined-class activities. the two of you weren't exactly close friends yet, but you had chemistry. that much was obvious to everyone at abbott.

"tenth grade for me, too," you answered between sips of your morning coffee. "a friend and i did it in the bathroom before art class. good memories."

"what, did you have some kinda fancy vape pen?" melissa cocked an eyebrow at you.

"i wouldn't call it fancy, but yeah, we mostly smoked carts," you explained. "bought 'em from the upperclassmen in the parking lot before school. i'm pretty sure they weren't pure weed, though. we had to be smoking battery acid, or plastic or something."

"god, your generation is weird. smokin' chemicals out of a flash drive," melissa said, gesturing wildly to convey her amazement. "the first time i got high was in detention. my buddy steve would sneak in and bring us cigarettes and blunts. they all looked the same, so we played russian roulette with it. now everybody walks around with those neon devices in their pockets."

"i can't tell if you're being serious or if you're referencing the breakfast club," you giggled, nudging the redhead's shoulder jokingly as you sat down next to her.

"ha ha, very funny, little miss," melissa deadpanned. you had asked her to stop calling you "kid" a few weeks ago. she respected your wishes by coming up with all sorts of endearing synonyms to call you instead. "what about you, jacob? you used to vape—ever experimented with mary jane?"

"or mark john?" you added. melissa snorted and gave you a playful swat on the arm.

"no, actually, i haven't," jacob said, rolling his eyes at your quip. "i didn't have many friends in high school or college, and after that i had to be drug tested regularly for teachers without borders. i never got the chance."

"well, if you ever feel like trying something new, i have plenty to share," you offered. "can't have you over at my place, though; every time i bring guests around, my crazy neighbor thinks they're cia operatives."

everyone in the room except melissa gave you a shocked look. barbara looked especially aghast, her brightly painted lips curled into an 'o' shape.

"damn, i thought janine was the only after-school stoner here. what a pleasant surprise!" ava broke the silence.

"i suppose i would partake given one of those weed pens you mentioned," jacob said to you. "the only thing i've been vaping lately is air, and it gets stale after a while."

"oh no, i haven't used a cart since high school," you clarified. "if you're smoking with me, you're smoking. don't worry, it's easy. just like vaping, but better in every way."

"first of all, no smoke circle is happening under my roof without me." melissa chimed in, looking at you with a silent question in her eyes. you nodded—of course you wanted her there. "and second, where do you even get the weed? if you buy the legal stuff from new york or massachusetts, you're not bringin' it to my house."

"i wouldn't dream of it," you affirmed. "i only smoke authentic philly weed. don't worry about it; i got a guy."

---

that friday night, you showed up on melissa's doorstep wearing a casual t-shirt dress, with a tote bag full of goodies slung over your shoulder. jacob was the one to answer the door.

"hey! come on in, melissa's making pizza," he said cheerfully, a bit jittery with anticipation.

you followed jacob inside and found melissa leaning over the kitchen island, smiling fondly at you. she was wearing sweatpants and a loose-fitting striped shirt, with her hair loose and a bit messy from cooking. she looked radiant and comfortable.

"you know, the pizza will taste better if we smoke before dinner," you proposed.

"bold of you to assume my pizza could taste any better," melissa joked back.

"i'm game," jacob said. "i want the full marijuana experience."

"in that case, help me set up," you said to the history teacher. "i want you to see how everything works."

you laid the contents of your tote bag out on the island countertop: a ziploc baggie full of flower, a little purple grinder, a holographic pink bowl, and a yellow lighter with white flowers on it.

"jacob, this is a grinder," you said, uncapping the grinder and opening the ziploc bag. "we're gonna use it to break up the flower into little pieces."

"oh wow, that is... pungent," jacob remarked. he watched as you ground up the weed, then handed the pink glass bowl to him.

"and this is a bowl, or a pipe if you're lame," you said. "you wanna do the honors?"

jacob grinned and reached into the grinder, bouncing excitedly on his heels. you put a hand on his shoulder to steady him. he filled the bowl, looking to you for approval several times while he did it.

"awesome, we're ready," you said. melissa placed her pizza in the oven and joined the circle.

"let's take it out on the patio," melissa suggested.

she led you and jacob out to the patio, a small ledge overlooking the city with three chairs conveniently set up in a tight circle. it was 7pm and the sun had just begun its descent, casting philadelphia in an orange glow.

the three of you sat down. you held the bowl up to your lips and moved to light it, but melissa snatched the lighter from your hand. she leaned in and held the flame to the bowl, her face inches from yours. you tried to concentrate on the task at hand, rather than her painted lips or her vivid green eyes dancing all over you.

you took a long inhale of the smoke and blew it up toward the sky. melissa plucked the bowl out of your hand and took a hit. she held the smoke in her lungs for an impressive amount of time for someone who didn't smoke regularly. she passed the still-lit bowl to jacob.

as soon as jacob took his hit, you knew it was gonna hurt. he overestimated his own lung capacity, and he didn't even finish blowing the smoke out before he was coughing.

"happens to everybody, pal," melissa patted jacob's back to ease his pain.

"ugh!" jacob sputtered between coughs. "why didn't you guys tell me smoking hurts?"

---

several rotations later, the three of you were high. well, you and melissa were high; jacob was outright fried. not altogether unexpected, but funny as hell.

when melissa's pizza was done, you all resolved to eat outside so you could watch the sunset together.

"this is heavenly, mel," you moaned after a delicious bite of the pizza.

"ha!" jacob exclaimed, and you and melissa turned to him, confused. meeting melissa's gaze, he threw his arms up in the air—like he expected her to understand what he meant by that one noise. "she stole two syllables from your name. you can't just take syllables, y/n. they're not yours."

"since when do you care about private property rights?" you quipped back before turning your attention to melissa. "i'm serious though. this pizza is sooo good. like last-meal-on-death-row good."

"keep talkin' sweet like that, and you can call me whatever you want," melissa replied with a wink, sending a flood of warmth to your face.

"what were we talking about? just now?" jacob chimed in, his eyes wide and darting every which way.

"... i actually don't know," you said with a giggle. you tried to remember, you really did. but you could feel melissa's eyes on you, and you heard her words echoing in your head. and it was hard to focus on anything else.

"short term memory loss! add that to the list of things you guys didn't warn me about," jacob scoffed.

"jacob, eat your damn pizza," melissa cut in. a peaceful smile graced her lips as she stared out at the city skyline, now a twilight blue in the absence of the sun. "i've missed this feeling, everythin' all fuzzy and light. how are you holding up, lovebug?"

your heart fluttered at the endearing name. melissa, it seemed, wore her heart on her sleeve when she was high—judging by the adoring way she gazed at you while she awaited your response. maybe the weed was messing with your head, but you swore she'd never looked so beautiful.

her eyes lacked any trace of the fire you were used to seeing (though they were quite red). for once, she wasn't on guard. her plump lips curled around her wine glass as she took a sip of merlot, vocalizing her sensual appreciation with a hum.

her long auburn hair was tucked behind her ears, resting on her shoulders in loose waves instead of her preferred meticulous curls. you wanted to run your fingers through her locks, feel their softness and smell her shampoo.

entranced by the redhead, you forgot she had asked you a question. melissa tapped your knee in reminder.

"i feel perfect," was your soft reply. you were beaming brightly before the sentence even finished. rather than sitting in a chair, you felt like you were floating on a cloud. the colors of melissa's patio and the sky blended together in a beautiful, swirling mosaic. the sounds of the city were clear and pleasant as philly wound down for the night. "i'm so happy."

"glad to hear it, sunshine. but i'm pretty sure jacob is asleep," melissa chuckled and patted the man's shoulder. he didn't stir, remaining slumped and conked out in his chair. "he's been losin' sleep over the kid who got suspended. bending over backwards trying to keep 'em on track."

"oh gosh," you said sympathetically before patting jacob a bit more firmly than melissa had. "jacob, hey. c'mon, it's time for bed. get up, go get cozy."

your words were slurred and hushed, but they seemed to pierce the veil of jacob's slumber as he awoke with a start.

melissa stood behind jacob's chair, gently rocking it back and forth to bring him back to the conscious world.

"can't go to bed, we just started," jacob grumbled, but his eyes were still closed. he was dangerously close to falling asleep again.

"from the looks of it, you're either gonna spend the night sleepin' in this chair or in your bed, so get up," melissa said resolutely.

"yeah, and besides, there's always next time," you assured jacob as he stretched and groaned his way into an upright position. you made eye contact with melissa, and this time you winked.

---

after helping jacob into bed (his motor skills really deteriorated when he got high) and smoking another bowl together, you and melissa were ready to continue your night.

"alright, sweetheart, it's down to you and me," melissa said, sitting down next to you on the couch. "what do you wanna do?" you pondered the question, looking around the room for inspiration.

"oh my god, you have a nintendo switch?" you asked excitedly, gesturing to the black tablet plugged in next to the cable box.

"that's jacob's. he showed me one of the games on there—animal crossing, i think it was. i don't get it. why play a game if you can't win?"

"alright, i know what we have to do now," you said, walking over to jacob's game cabinet and pulling out mario kart 8. holding the case up for melissa to see, you grinned. "four races. whoever wins gets whatever she wants from the other."

you were distantly aware of the implications, but you were too high to reconsider what you'd proposed.

you figured melissa would want something from your thoroughly decorated classroom if she won. if you won, you'd ask her to make you a custom pizza.

"you have no idea what you just started, hon," melissa said with a confident smirk.

"may the best woman win."

---

how the hell was she so good at everything?

melissa had needed some time to warm up to the switch controls, complaining about how the little red rectangle was too small to hold comfortably. but she was a quick learner with skilled fingers, and soon she was absolutely demolishing you.

it also didn't help that your coordination escaped you when you were high. you had driven off of too many ledges to count.

"two wins in a row for luigi," melissa bragged as she crossed the finish line of the third race. "hope you're ready to give me whatever i want, princess. don't think i forgot about our bet."

"daisy won the first race," you pointed out calmly. "i can still bring it back. but you know what this last race has to be?"

"what?"

"rainbow road. it's the perfect final showdown course," you explained, navigating to the course with your controller.

"get ready to be mine for a night," melissa said lowly. god, you knew she was talking about the bet, but she knew damn well what she was doing. by this point your panties were almost uncomfortably wet.

you leaned into her unconsciously as the race countdown began. you both held your controllers tight, almost shoulder to shoulder.

3...

2... (you push down the gas pedal button)

1...

GO!!!

daisy took off with a boost of speed thanks to your timing. luigi had a false start as his engine blew out. you cheered, and melissa cursed.

"how the fuck do you do that?" she asked, exasperated.

"play the game!" you demanded without looking away from the screen.

the competition was intense. you and melissa weaved around curves, nearly fell off the road, passed and bumped each other. neither one of you spoke until lap 3.

coming up on one of the last turns of the last lap, your hands jerked and you swerved. reacting on instinct, you bent your arms dramatically in the other direction to overcorrect.

melissa's arm bumped into yours, sending your controller flying out of your hands.

"hey!" you said, thinking she was cheating.

"hey yourself," she said, her eyes still fixed on the screen.

if she was gonna play dirty, so were you. you thrust your arm forward to grab her controller. but she saw you coming from a mile away. effortlessly, she shifted the controller into her left hand alone and held it up and out of your reach.

desperately competitive (and stupid high), you launched yourself toward the controller. you'd stop at nothing to get even. before you could snatch it out of her grasp, though, your balance faltered. you fell out of your position and started to fall backwards off the couch.

melissa dropped the controller and wrapped her arms around you, pulling you back up before you could hurt yourself. there was only one problem with this heroic act.

you were in her lap now.

her hands remained clasped at the small of your back, and your balance shifted forward. you put your arms out for stability, and wrapped them around her neck.

"careful, don't hurt your pretty head," melissa cooed. the two of you stared at each other for a moment. she surged forward and pressed her lips to yours.

if sitting outside with her felt like floating, kissing her and feeling her body against yours felt like riding the ocean waves. but unlike the atlantic, she was warm. you relaxed into her warmth as her tongue licked into your mouth.

you felt her tongue everywhere. in response to her, you gave a few tentative kitten licks. she moaned, she moaned, and pulled back before giving you one last kiss on the lips.

she stared at you with heated eyes for a while before switching her focus to the tv.

"look, baby," she said smugly while gesturing to the tv screen, where luigi was driving victory laps after placing first on rainbow road. "i won. you remember what that means?"

it was a fair question, considering how many conversations you forgot happened tonight. still, you nodded shyly and bit your lip.

"smart girl," melissa praised. "can you guess what i want from you?"

you shook your head no with a frown. melissa beamed and kissed you on the forehead. then she leaned in to whisper in your ear.

"i wanna touch you everywhere. i wanna hear your pretty voice moan my name and see your face scrunch up when you come. i want you to feel me all over you, and i want you to spend the rest of your life craving that feeling," melissa said her piece all at once, as if revealing a long-buried secret to you and herself.

you swallowed.

"would you let me do that?"

you nodded, pressing your forehead against hers.

"i need to hear you say it," she said softly, so softly you almost missed it.

"i want you, melissa. i have since the day we met."

that was all the confirmation melissa needed to attack your face and neck with kisses.

"sorry, let me just," melissa said as she pulled away abruptly and reached for the tv remote. she changed it to cable mode and navigated to the jazz music channel. "there we go, perfect."

"you're ridiculous," you giggled upon seeing melissa's proud face.

"honey," she leaned in to nip at your ear before whispering, "watch your mouth. you wanna be on my good side tonight, trust me."

you shuddered and wiggled in her lap, aching for her touch. a slow grin spread across her face and her hands found your legs, running up your thighs and lightly dragging her nails along your skin. they soon made their way up your waist to your breasts, cupping and squeezing them. melissa even took two fingernails and circled your nipples teasingly, to which you squeaked.

"do you know how many times i thought about havin' you like this?" melissa whispered. her voice was sweet like molasses and flowed right through you. you could feel your nipples tingling where her fingers had been, swimming in a bubble of desire. "in my lap, all whiny and squirmy."

she pinched your nipple and you keened. you held your breath as her hands once again traveled to your thighs, making a beeline for your core.

"and now i got my angel in my arms," she said, gently spreading your legs for better access. you sucked in a breath and trembled when her palm caressed you through your panties. "but i gotta say, even in my imagination you were never this wet for me."

she punctuated the sentence by pressing her pointer finger on your clit through the fabric, drawing tiny circles. you gasped and hid your face in her neck. the high made every touch feel like it rippled through your whole body. the world felt like it had been knocked off its axis, and melissa was your new center of gravity.

"aw, don't be embarrassed, babygirl. it's cute you're so sensitive," melissa soothed, easing you out of the crook of her neck to face her again. she trailed her fingers down to swirl around your wetness under your panties. "let me take care of you, yeah?"

---

a few minutes later, you were spread out on melissa's bed, naked save for your (now useless) panties. she'd practically carried you to her room as you were baked and horny and unable to walk straight.

in spite of your writhing and needy whines, the redhead took her time to savor you. she kissed every inch of your torso before she even considered taking your panties off, mumbling sweet nothings between love bites.

when she finally pulled away to admire her work, the view did not disappoint. you were panting and covered in melissa's marks, and god, you were her favorite piece of art ever created. all hers.

"alright, sweet girl, i know," she cooed as you continued to plead for her touch with your best pout and puppy eyes. unable to resist you, melissa hooked two fingers in the waistband of your panties. "i'm gonna slip these off ya, okay? there, down they go."

melissa discreetly tucked the saturated material into her pocket. not as a trophy or proof of her conquest; rather, a token from the first of many magical nights with her girl. she would treasure it.

she wasted no time getting situated between your legs so she was face-to-face with your pussy. she inhaled deeply, basking in the heady aroma of your arousal. you overwhelmed her senses. everything she saw, everything she smelled, everything she felt, everything she thought—it was all one big, bottomless pool of you. and there was only one sense left for you to conquer.

the first drag of her tongue up your slit set you ablaze, flames licking from your core all the way to your extremities and your head. she let out a small noise of appreciation, and you felt it more than you heard it.

"you taste like fuckin' heaven," melissa rumbled between determined licks through your folds. her comment reminded you of the pizza, and you found yourself amused at how much things had changed in just a few hours.

"last-meal-on-death-row good?" you joked, and melissa seized the moment of levity to latch onto your clit. you cried out before remembering jacob was sleeping in the next room. you clapped a hand over your mouth.

"mhmmmmm," she moaned in agreement, and the vibrations on your bundle felt incredible. "but if you're still crackin' jokes, i'm not doin' my job."

with that, she shut you up completely. her tongue poked at your clit between harsh sucks. your back arched and melissa changed her strategy, prodding at your entrance with her tongue while her fingers took over on your clit. when her tongue penetrated you, you bit down on your hand to keep from screaming.

"i said i wanna hear you, remember?" melissa pulled out to chastise you.

"but jacob—" you managed.

"is passed out. he's dead to the world. now sing for me, angel," melissa's tongue dove back into your weeping cunt and lapped at your walls. you wailed her name.

"oh, mel, right—ahhh—there!" you mewled as her tongue teased your most sensitive spot. now that she'd located her target, melissa changed her play once again. two fingers replaced her tongue and crooked into your g-spot while her mouth returned to your clit. "close..."

melissa nodded her permission, her mouth busy with your button. with another hard roll of your clit between her lips and drive of her fingers into your sweet spot, you fell apart. you moaned and cried unbidden as she worked you through your orgasm, which felt twice as powerful thanks to the intoxication factor. your body shook in the grip of seemingly endless waves of heat.

your climax eventually died down and you squirmed away from melissa's touch. your mouth opened in dismay when instead of staying by your side, she stood up and disappeared into her closet.

after a short while, the older woman reappeared by your side. she was now nude and sporting a long, girthy strap-on. she placed a few other items on the nightstand, but you couldn't tear your eyes away from the thick faux cock. unless it was to look at her gorgeous tits, which swung with her every move. she was a goddess.

"okay, sweets, i'm gonna spell this out nice and slow because i know your brain is a little messy right now," she said as she crawled on top of you. "i'm gonna fuck you with my strap. and i know it's so big, but i have this to help you take it."

melissa reached over to the nightstand and retrieved a green mini wand vibrator. her intentions were clear, and you gulped. the redhead peppered kisses all over your face in reassurance.

"now relax, little love. let me in," melissa instructed as the wand buzzed to life. she smeared your wetness around your clit with her fingers, then pulled back its hood to position the vibrator tightly against your nub. even the lowest setting was a shock at such a direct angle.

while you were distracted trying to adjust to the clitoral stimulation, melissa aligned the tip of the dildo with your entrance and pushed in. you both groaned, and you felt yourself stretch around the toy. melissa turned up the vibrations on your clit as she progressed to being fully seated inside you.

"that's a good girl, so brave," melissa cooed. you thrashed underneath her, the sensations overstimulating you. the pain of the intrusion staved off a powerful orgasm from the wand vibrator.

again, you wondered if the drugs were messing with your mind—the dildo felt indistinguishable from a part of mel's body, and you were full to the brim of her.

as she began to rock her hips back and forth, you saw her bite her lip. you assumed that the strap had some kind of clit attachment for her based on the telltale signs of pleasure.

melissa built up a steady rhythm and drank in your pathetic sounds of pleasure. her tits swung in your face with every thrust, and you made a mental note to give them proper attention next time. with another tactical increase to the wand's speed, you felt yourself approaching the edge once more.

"you gettin' close? yeah, i can tell. feels too good to hide it, huh bunny?" that was a new one. you clenched at her words and she set the wand to its maximum power, rubbing it up and down on your clit. your vision went white and you spun out of reality as you came. "that's my girl. good little princess, coming so hard for me."

with a few more thrusts, melissa also came to a release. she shuddered and shimmied her hips at random while she rode it out. as soon as she recovered, she turned off the green wand and relieved you. next, she eased herself out of and off of you.

with a chaste peck to your lips, she sat upright and reached for the nightstand. she smiled at your fucked-out expression as she laid out the pajamas she'd picked out for you.

you watched in awe as she took off the strap and put on her own sleep clothes. her red hair was wild from the night's activities and glowed like a warm hearth against the white backdrop of her walls.

in your state, you wanted nothing more than to cuddle up with melissa and fall asleep. but she insisted that you get ready for bed so that you'd be comfortable through the night. she guided you into the bathroom and gave you a new toothbrush to use.

returning to the bedroom, you found a silky green nightgown with flowers on it waiting on the bed for you. given your exhausted and intoxicated state, melissa had to help you into it. neither of you minded. as a reward for your cooperation, she gave you a kiss.

the two of you snuggled into bed, tucked in together with you curled up against her chest. the tides of slumber lapped at your feet.

"g'night, lovebug," melissa whispered as you drifted off. "sleep well. see you in the morning."

and tomorrow would be the first of a lifetime of tomorrows waking up in her arms.

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x y/n #melissa schemmenti x you #abbott elementary fanfic #melissa schemmenti smut #wlw smut #4/20 friendly #stoner fic #fanfic

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ghostssweetgirl · 11 months

Note

So, here’s the request lol

Fem reader x Ghost

Reader zones out a lot, doesn’t zone back in for awhile and keeps unfocusing their eyes. Ghost sees this and takes care off them.

Would be interesting to seee how König handles this too but that can be a post for another day lol

Have fun and stay hydrated hun 🤍

i'll be damned, i'm zoned out most of the time myself 😂 and i'm sure a lot of people relate as well, it's like i'm here but i'm not here lol. here have both 🤗

Reader x Ghost + König | How They React to You Zoning Out Often

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Even before you two were together, he noticed how you'd... go somewhere else. You'd sit there and stare off into space, in deep thought? No, you wish it was just deep thoughts. You couldn't really help your dissociation.

Sometimes you could respond to a quick question, but most times, you really were in another world.

He'd gently tap you on your shoulder and bring you back with his soft voice. "Lovie. Hey, come back to me. 'S alright."

Here lately though, it's gotten worse. You catch yourself zoning out more than usual, your eyes unfocusing as well.

You'd been sitting in the living room watching one of your favorite shows. Ghost walks in from work, happily greeting his lovely wife whom he loves coming home to. He took a shower and changed into casual clothes before he joined you, but when he walked in his happy expression turned into a worried one.

"Babe?" he called out, sitting next to you. No response. "Y/N...?"

You were staring off into space, not unusual, but you weren't responding - physically or verbally. He reached out to rub your back. You didn't even flinch. Just a few moments ago, you greeted him happily, even smiled at him. He leaves the room for a few minutes and comes out to you like this. It always worries him.

He sighs before he gets up and turns the lights off, closes the blinds to a point there's not much sunlight coming in and he shuts off the TV. He kneels down in front of you and grabs your hands in his.

"Y/N, doll, hey..." he reaches up to cup your cheek. Your expression still blank, though your eyes move, he leans up and places a loving kiss on your forehead. You finally start to come back and you take in a deep breath. "There she is, my sweet girl. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay," you smiled. You're not exactly sure why you do this, it slightly worries you but it's clear it worries Ghost more than it does yourself.

"I get so worried about you," he sighed. "There has to be something or somewhere we can go to see what's goin' on, is there?"

"Probably," you nervously laughed. "But there's not much they can do about it... I don't like doctors... or any of that sort."

"Regardless, I'll be here for you," he smiled. "I love you no matter what and I'll always take care of you."

König

Before you got together, he thought he had upset you the first time you zoned out. You two were having an at-home date, and you zoned out in the middle of your meal. You didn't mean to, it just happened.

Once you opened up, he made it a point to make every environment as comfortable as possible in hopes it would help lessen your moments.

He was so sweet and understanding about it, too.

He'd kiss all over your face and hold you so tight until you came back to him.

He had taken you out on an evening picnic, away from people, but close enough to take in the view of the beautiful lake as the sun was setting and you watched some ducklings and their mothers waddle into the lake.

You both finished your food and here you were laying in between his legs, back against his chest. You rested your head on his shoulder while you talked about nature and how it was such a beautiful night.

"It's not as beautiful as my Maus," he complimented you while he kissed your forehead.

You giggled, humming in response before you both fell in a comfortable silence.

Moments flew by, it was getting dark, but you didn't know that at the time.

"Maus? Maus?" his voice echoed, although you couldn't make out his words.

"Oh, Meine Liebe (my love)," he cooed as he gently grabbed behind your knees, now cradling you as he placed soft kisses all over your face. "I'm right here. It's gonna be okay."

He rubbed your cheeks, rocking you back and forth in his big arms, shushing and cooing at you, trying everything to bring you back. He kept his eyes on yours, which were focusing and unfocusing, slightly darting back and forth but he knew that you were zoning out.

"Oh, my dear," he smiled, rubbing your cheek faster as he saw your eyes start to flutter, blinking rapidly to wet your eyes that hadn't blinked for a good moment. "Is she okay? Do you feel alright? Let's get you back home."

"Mhm," you lazily agreed, looking up at your boyfriend who made you feel so safe even in these vulnerable moments. There was no one else in the world you'd rather zone out around; with him, you were safe no matter the state you were in.

A/N - This was actually very comforting to me personally! I know zoning out isn't the exact same for everyone but I only hope I captured this well. Thank you for the request @almightywdm <3

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secretwritingspot · 5 months

Text

Too Much (Take Me Home)

Pairing: OPLA Sanji x Reader

Rating/Content Warnings: okay so I have no idea how to rate this. Like this is definitely not PG but it's also not really nsfw?? Honestly I'd recommend just reading the summary and deciding for yourself from there.

Summary: Reader is a sub who, due to the nature of y'know like being on a pirate ship constantly has not had a single chance to relax in weeks, especially since they don't really know any of their crewmates like that. Sanji steps in to save the day.

Disclaimer(s): so funny story - this is the single kinkiest thing I've written for this blog. And yet. It is also the least sexual thing I've written for this blog, that being not sexual at all. This is purely mentally-ill wish fulfillment emotional hurt-comfort d/s fluff. None of those words are in the bible but we persist nonetheless. A lot of d/s themes but like soft d/s if that makes sense, undernegotiated kink (there's definitely communication and it's p healthy but they're both idiots your honor), some petplay if you squint? Like not really but reader is on their knees and he calls them puppy a few times so do with that what you will.

There's a surprising amount of paperwork that comes with being the ship's chef.

One would think Sanji was always on his feet, whipping up something new- and yet here he is, late at night, sitting at a table that feels nautical miles away from where he really wants to be, the galley. But this was a part of the job- to catalogue ingredients, new recipes, what he could make and on what day for their supplies to last until the next town.

He's used to it being a solitary job, but then there's footsteps and a knock at the doorframe of his room and you walk in, shy uncertainty in your voice.

"...Sanji?"

You weren't sure about this, about any of this. But you were exhausted in a way that sleep couldn't fix, and it was obvious to you as to why.

You were a sub. There, you admitted it, got that embarrassing information out of the way as quickly as possible.

You - strong, strategic, stoic you - had been spinning out for the last few days. It had been too long since you'd been able to go under, since you'd joined the strawhats, to be precise, and it was starting to wear on you.

There was only so long you could go like this, tough and detached, protecting everyone else, taking care of the rest of your crew before yourself. It was constant, on the Merry. You really should've seen that coming with it being a pirate ship and all, but you felt like you had no room to breathe. Wake up, save the day, plan, eat and sleep only to keep your energy up to do it again the next day. You were always on, always performing the most capable version of yourself, and it was starting to wear you thin.

Sanji, for all his care and attention, hadn't seemed to notice. Even now, when you'd come to him like this. For that, a part of you was thankful.

He can't even hope to hide the way his face lights up when you walk in, quickly grabbing a towel next to him and wiping off his hands on instinct, like there should be oil or cooking wine or flour on them. There isn't, but other times there is. And there will be again, eventually. Better safe than sorry, he supposes.

"What could possibly bring such an angel down to me so late?"

He questions with a charming smile, cocking his head at you fondly. You roll your eyes at his immediate antics, blushing.

"Ah. Straight to business, huh?"

You laugh nervously, looking away and scratching the back of your neck with a sheepish blush.

"...can I stay with you? While you work?"

He squints at you curiously and then nods, smile blooming on his face the way it always does when you're around. For such a simple request, he doesn't know why you look so embarrassed.

Sure, the signs of embarrassment aren't as obvious on someone like you- but he can still see them. The way your eyes avoid his, the slight awkwardness in your stance as you shift on your feet.

"Of course, love. I'd never turn down your wonderful company."

You take a relieved breath and nod, looking down. For a moment you stand still, trying to make your feet move. Is this really such a good idea?

You take the leap before you can second guess yourself, walking over to where he sits at the desk. You pass the other seats and he squints curiously, having expected you to take one. Instead, you come straight to his, sinking down to your knees next to him and sitting back on your heels, resting your head on the side of his thigh.

Oh.

Oh, wow.

His eyes widen when you settle on the floor next to him, his face a pink hue as he looks down at you. Still, he didn't move. Instead, he gently brushes some of your hair back, looking at you with confusion.

"Are you...what are you doing, love?"

You swallow thickly, blinking your eyes back open to look up at him pleadingly, face pink.

"...can I stay here? I- I'll explain if you want, I promise, just...please."

He chuckles, an intrigued little smile gracing his features as he looks down at you nods. "Go ahead, explain. You can stay here as long as you'd like, darling."

"I need..."

You start to speak before backing up your explanation, embarrassment showing in the way your speech jumps back and forth between thoughts.

"I've been exhausted, recently. I'm sleeping fine, I just...sometimes I need to- to relax a certain, uh- a certain way. And since we've been on the ship, I haven't been able to, uh..."

You squeeze your eyes shut with embarrassment, taking a deep breath and turning to press your face against his thigh to hide your blush.

"...subspace. I'm- I'm a sub. And I haven't been able to go into subspace for a while, and I know this is a lot to ask you and I'm sorry, I just- I need to be like this for a while, please."

Immediately, your behavior starts to make sense. It would be hard to be a sub on a crew like this, constantly having to fight and stay in control. You likely haven't had the chance to submit to anyone in ages, if only for safety reasons. After all, you're all wanted. But with the natural way you dropped to your knees below him, put your head on his thigh like second nature, it all clicks.

He looks at you for a moment and blinks, his expression unreadable.

"...I think I understand what you mean. You want to be good for me, yes? I don't mind that, you know. You're quite pretty like this." He gently drags the back of his hand across your face with a smile before adding, almost as an afterthought, "Sweet thing."

You shiver at his words and nod in confirmation, letting your head fall back to the side to rest against his thigh.

This is...it's the last thing he'd expect from you, really. You're so tough and capable and independent, so the fact that you're a sub? The more he thinks about it the more it makes him blush- that someone like you was even capable of submitting, let alone craved it, let alone again would come to him, pleading for him to let you kneel at his feet for a while as he works. He gently runs a hand along your back, the corner of his mouth twitching as he smirks.

"I want you to stay like this until you're satisfied, alright darling?" He smiles and takes a look back at the paperwork on the table "...Are you comfortable there?"

You nod, heart fluttering when he says he wants you to stay like this until you feel better. It's sweet and gentle and so very Sanji, but at the same time, it sounds almost like an instruction. Like a command. It makes your cheeks flush and your mind stop whirring for a second in a way you'd missed so badly from when friends or partners who knew about your submissiveness back on land would put you under. The comfort of not having to think of anything besides doing what you're told- being good, always being good. You'd missed this.

"I need you to relax for me, okay? Just...focus on enjoying yourself, yeah? I have to get this work done, so I'm counting on you to stay right here. Can you do that for me?"

You nod almost immediately and he grins at the obedience, going back to his work with a satisfaction mirrored in you.

Something to do. A task. Something to be good at, good enough to make him proud. It settles your mind as you lean your head against him, the slight twinge of pain from kneeling on the wooden floor grounding you pleasantly.

He could get used to this, he thinks- you sitting at his feet next to him like a puppy, one of his hands scratching through your hair absentmindedly as he works through his paperwork and supply numbers. He watches you out of the corner of his eye as he works, the sound of parchment paper a pleasant constant. Your breathing was also rather soothing, a nice background to his quiet humming as he writes. He feels as though he could listen to it all night and never grow tired of it.

He makes a mental note of how each different touch effects you- cataloging your reactions, what you like, what seems to make your mind dissolve. He finds a particular sweet spot behind your ears that leaves you a shivering puddle when he scratches softly with his nails, a spot at the crown of your head that makes you purr, that any light touch closer to your neck provokes a wobbly, ticklish smile but that you don't make any move to stop him. You seem completely zoned out, dazed and pliant and warm under his fingers.

A minute passes like that, then five, then ten. He looks back down to check on you and feels his heart stall in his chest.

"Oh, darling..." He whispers softly, blushing at the sight of you. Hazy and dazed with near-reverence in your eyes. He stops writing, setting down the pen and reaching down to lift your chin up, looking you directly in the eyes.

"Look at me. Please."

You perch your chin on his thigh obediently to look up at him from your position on the floor. It's the most relaxed he's ever seen you- shoulders dropped like a tremendous weight's been lifted from you, limbs like lead as doe eyes blink up at him blearily, expression glazed-over and vulnerable and soft, softer than he thought you were capable of.

You were a tremendous warrior, someone feared across the seas, and yet your head was on his thigh, sitting at his feet below him.

You, who could kill him in a fraction of a second if you wanted.

He sighs, a little breathless. He's so tempted to lean down and kiss you, but he shakes his head slowly. Not now, not yet. There's something else he needs to do first.

His hand runs through your hair as he looks into your eyes almost like a nurse would with a concussed patient, checking up on you to make sure you're okay.

"Can you speak? It doesn't have to be a lot, just...say something for me, love."

"C'n speak."

You answer softly, obedient nearly to a fault, your usually confident voice gone soft and mumbly. It's perfect. Christ, all of it is perfect.

"'verything's just kinda...fuzzy right now. 's okay, it's nice."

His eyes are glued to you as his hand gently runs through your hair, scratching behind your ear. There's something on his mind, something he can't quite place or figure out yet.

"You look so beautiful right now." He admits gently, his voice still a low whisper. "Can you tell me why- why you're like this?"

Well, wasn't that a hell of a question? Why are you - always that emphasis in your head, though he doesn't mean it like that - of all people, why are you?

A few moments pass before you say anything. You don't really know what you would say, not until it's already coming out of your mouth.

"...cause 'm not allowed to be."

It's the only answer you can think of when you can finally convince yourself to speak.

"I- I have to know everything. All the time. Be in charge and make the tough decisions and stay on top of everything and make sure everyone's okay-"

The words come slowly at first, but the longer you speak the quicker they spill out, rambling like it's something that's been festering for weeks that you desperately need to get off your chest.

You cut yourself off with a deep breath when you realize the breakneck speed with which you're ranting, simplifying your answer down to it's most basic terms.

"...I don't get to be weak."

He can't help but feel his breath catch at that reply. "I don't get to", like it's something you want but aren't allowed. He can so easily see that side of you now that you mentioned it, but he'd always just ignored it. It seemed inconsequential. Like that part just...wasn't you.

It strikes him then that that was probably on purpose, on your part. You wanted them to disregard it.

But the more he thinks about it, the more he recontectualizes all your stress, all the moments of you snapping at the crew over little slights, the more curious he gets as to how and why you got to be like this in the first place.

"There isn't anything weak about this." he pushes back sternly as soon as he can get his voice to work. "This is...this is the most courageous thing I could imagine. I'm so proud of you."

The words hit you like a brick and you close your eyes, taking a shaky breath as they play on repeat in your head.

"I'm so proud of you."

You can feel yourself crumbling at his affection, the voracity of his care. How adamant he is about understanding that sometimes you just needed to be below someone else.

He cups your cheek in his hand softly, angling your face to look up at him. The more you let your guard down, the warmer his chest feels looking at you. He'd never seen you open up this much, it makes his heart ache. He smiles at the sight of you looking up at him so prettily, lightly tapping the tip of your nose.

"...there you are."

The words are barely a whisper, full of pride and admiration and pleasant disbelief. It's a shame how much you try to prove your strength, your resilience when there isn't a reason for it.

You'd always been enough for him. Always been strong enough, tough enough, useful enough. Always, always, always.

You'd never needed to be anything more than who you were, and getting to see you like this...it's like he's seeing you for the first time all over again.

"It's an honor to finally meet you."

All you can manage is a soft huff of breath, his words knocking the breath from your lungs. It's almost a sob, except that there are no tears. You have no idea why. Or why you almost sobbed in the first place. Why are there no tears?

"It's an honor to finally meet you."

The words cut through you like water. He still wants you? Even like this- emotionally stunted, a needy mess, pathetic and fragile and shaking?

"The way you are right now is nothing short of beautiful. Everything about you is lovely. It's...it isn't easy letting go like this, is it?" He muses, a hand resting on your hair, his thumb running along your face.

You sniffle quietly and blink back tears, nodding your head. It's progress even getting you to agree.

He knows you aren't upset by his words and so your unshed tears don't bother him. Knows that you aren't used to this, aren't going to be good at believing or accepting it immediately. He knows it'll take time to get to a place where words like that don't phase you anymore. So for now, your agreement is more than enough.

"...can we stay here for a while? Please?"

You break through his train of thought with a cautious whisper, voice small. A surge of pride shoots through him at your words, so fucking proud. If agreeing with his words is difficult, asking for what you want is worse. It's a hell of a first step.

"Of course we can. How long do you want to be like this, sweetheart?"

Ah. And there's the problem, isn't it? The "what do you want?" Really and truly, you have no idea.

"I don't mind much, it's..."

You trail off softly, hiding your face against his thigh in embarrassment as your blush spreads to the tips of your ears.

"...'s however long you want me to stay. It...it helps, letting you decide things for me."

The admission is a shy one, but it's not like it's something he couldn't've seen coming. It makes sense that instructions and praise would go hand in hand to make someone like you feel safe, small, protected.

"...I don't want you to move, okay?" He finally decides, lifting his hand from your hair to brush it behind your ear, fingernails scratching gently.

"Just let me take care of you for a while."

You take a deep breath at his words like the air's cleared for the first time in decades, finally having something to ground yourself on.

He makes a note of that in his head, too- you like a sense of order, when he makes decisions for you or gives you instructions to follow. Something simple that you can focus on even in your dazed, vulnerable state of mind, a task you can accomplish.

His hand continues to run through your hair gently, thumb making little figure 8's at the crown of your head.

"Do you want me to hold you? Or do you prefer being on your knees?"

He doesn't look at you when he asks, pen scratching away at his charts with his eyes on the table. Somehow, that helps- the idea that he's still working, that you're not too inconvenient of a distraction.

The simple choice you're given between two options makes everything feel easy and calm and hazy, and your voice is quiet when you answer.

"On- on my knees. Makes me feel more- more..."

You trail off, trying to explain but unable to find the words.

"More vulnerable." He finishes for you, smiling as it finally clicks. A position of submission, giving up your power to him.

Undoubtably, you're more vulnerable on your knees. You'd typically never let anyone near you in this state, not since you joined the strawhats, but with him, it feels...safe.

"I like it too." He admits, his hand still on you as his voice slowly trails off.

Your features smooth out in relief at his understanding and you nod, leaning into him and nuzzling his thigh for a moment to show your appreciation.

He has to look away for a moment, as seeing you nuzzle against him triggers an almost visceral reaction he wasn't expecting. His face flushes a bit more, a small smile brightening face as he leans in his chair, his expression adoring as he looks down at you. He reaches out for your ear, scratching gently at it with his fingernail.

You're so soft like this he swears he might fall in love.

"...can we do this more often, when you want to relax?"

Your eyes widen with a surprised blush at all the question as your brain shorts out for a moment.

He really...he's really willing to make this a regular thing? He isn't just doing this to humor you? It seems almost impossible to believe that this isn't some kind of weird burden you'd pushed onto him.

"...yeah. I'd- 'd like that."

You mumble breathlessly, clearing your throat as you look down.

He's already looking for another command, a simple task he can praise you for. Something about telling you what to do - you, who could slit his throat in an instant - he's quickly figuring out that he likes it. Quite a bit, actually.

He thinks back to the little things he's noticed about you- you prefer standing with your back to walls, facing the exit of whatever room you're in. You can only fall asleep when someone else on the crew is still awake. You're always chewing toothpicks, sucking on the end of your pen-

Wait.

Do you have an- could he- maybe...?

He hums in thought, grin spreading wider as he looks down at you once more. Gently, he lifts your chin so you're looking directly at him.

"Open your mouth," He instructs softly, almost in a whisper. Curious.

A soft blush blossoms across your ears but other than that you don't question it, far enough into subspace that all that matters is following instructions, being good. You don't even think before parting your lips obediently, looking up at him with those pretty doe eyes. Like he hung the moon and the stars in the sky.

Bingo.

It was an oral fixation, your constant need to suck on a toothpick or the end of your pen. He couldn't fully understand, but he could relate- he always felt safer with a cigarette in his mouth.

He gently pushes his thumb in your mouth, taking a deep breath as he waits for your reaction to the audacious move. You wanted him to make you feel small, safe, vulnerable. He's more than happy to do that for you.

At your service, now and always.

Your blush spreads out to your cheeks and your eyes widen a fraction in surprise, but as soon as you manage to process that he really just did that, you close your lips gently around his thumb, eyes glazing over as you look up at him for approval.

You're so beautiful when you're like this, all raw and vulnerable and desperate to be good. He hums, eyes glued to you with a loving gaze as he takes in just how stunning you are in this moment.

"Submission suits you." He praises softly, his voice almost a whisper. "You're so...so sweet like this. So lovely when you don't think so much, puppy."

The last word is meant jokingly, gently poking fun at the way you're kneeling next to him, head on his thigh. Your reaction, though...that throws him. The way you squeeze your eyes closed and your blush darkens to a pure pink when he calls you "puppy", the way he can feel you whine around his thumb at the term as you melt, shoulders slumping- and that's certainly interesting, isn't it?

"Aww, puppy likes that, doesn't she?"

He can't help but smile as he takes his thumb out of your mouth for a moment before pushing two fingers in instead. Your cheeks flush when he does so, those puppy dog eyes glancing back at him with so much emotion it's almost overwhelming. The name is fitting, he supposes.

You flush further with embarrassment, though you know it makes no logical sense. Your mind doesn't seem to want to quiet itself, echoing judgements of your current position- weak, needy, pathetic. The shy feeling of poorly restrained shame claws up your chest even as you try to dismiss it. You shouldn't feel so embarrassed by this- Sanji clearly isn't bothered by it, doesn't think it's odd, hell, if anything he seems like he's enjoying himself. Yet you, brain all tied up in knots, can't seem to look at him.

So instead you try to focus on other things, like the comforting contrast of the warmth from his fingers and the cool metal of his ring pressing down softly on your tongue.

He can sense the embarrassment from you, though he can't understand it. He'd seen you at your worst, and this certainly wasn't it.

"...there's nothing wrong with allowing someone to take care of you, you know. I actually quite like seeing you like this." He says, the words falling out of his mouth before he even thinks.

Almost as if they'd been waiting to come out this whole time.

His reassurance only makes your blush intensify, but this time it's not bad.

It isn't shame, not really. It's more pleasantly flustering. If embarrassment were a spectrum, this...feeling would fall on the 'good' end of it.

Sensing it's a vulnerable topic, he lets the reassurance hang, not giving you enough time to think about it before changing the subject with a fond, knowing chuckle.

"You like the ring, don't you?"

He doesn't say, 'it gives you something to focus on so your mind doesn't wander too far' or 'the temperature brings you back down and grounds you here away from those nasty thoughts', but you both know that's what it is.

There's something warm in the way he so nonchalantly reveals that he's been cataloging every little detail of your reactions- the spot behind your ears, the fact you like being called 'puppy', and now the fact that you like the feeling of his ring pressing down on your tongue. Your mind is in enough of a submissive haze that you can't bring yourself to lie to him, instead nodding your head in agreement.

A small, fond smile graces his lips as his thumb moves up to your lower lip, gently prodding at your chin to bring your attention back to him.

"You can take breaks if you want. I know the ring's cold."

His voice is a warm, intimate whisper, eyes watching every movement you make, every twitch and hum catalogued in his mind.

The care in it makes your heart feel warm and you keep his fingers where they are, nipping lightly at him for a moment as if to let him know without words that you're enjoying this, that you don't need a break. It's so fucking cute his heart melts.

He can't help himself any more, pulling his fingers from your mouth. You nearly whine at the loss but then - then, oh, then - he presses a small, soft kiss to your lips and the whole world falls apart, his lips pressed tenderly to you as if you're something so much more than the sum of your parts. Your mind works on overdrive- it's such pure affection and approval and he kissed you, so that means you must've been good, right? That he was proud?

Little do you know, he's just as in awe as you are. In awe that you're really here with him, like this. That you'd ever let him do this. Everything about you is special to him, special because it's yours. Just like your eyes, the sound of your voice, the heart beating erratically in your chest. Before he can think about it he's pulling his ring off his finger, wiping the remains of your spit from it, and sliding it gently on your ring finger.

You cock your head up at him and squint in confusion and he smiles, voice soft like he's afraid anything stronger than a whisper would break the moment he's worked so hard for.

"Keep it, puppy. Then, next time you...need my help like this, you can give it back to me. Yeah?"

He punctuates his words by lifting your hand up like it's precious, placing a feather-light kiss to your knuckles.

The promise sparks a warmth in your chest, the casual mention of "next time" like there's no doubt at all in his mind that there will be a next time, the way he touches you like you're fragile, stares at you with pink cheeks and blown eyes like you're the sun and the moon and all the pinpoints in the night sky.

You should've jumped overboard when you had the chance, you think, because you've ended up drowning either way.

Eventually you can convince your muscles to work enough to nod, face blooming in fireworks of pink and orange and red as your words come back to you, though your voice is still small and hazy and breathless.

"...yeah, okay. Next time."

#vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #opla sanji #opla sanji x reader #opla #opla x reader #sanji x you #opla Sanji x you #opla x you #one piece #one piece live action #one piece x reader #one piece x you #opla x y/n #opla sanji x y/n #sanji x y/n

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14buddy22 · 25 days

Note

hi! Can I request an angsty/hurt/comfort fic with Hotch where he gets amnesia after an encounter with an unsub and the reader is a doctor at the hospital but Hotch obviously forgets her and their life together for a while. And Hotch being Hotch is reserved again and won’t let her help only the team so reader pulls back and can’t really help with the remembering process and is heartbroken but then he eventually remembers bc the little things eventually come back to him and then he finally remembers:)

Before Aaron saw the unsub cut a wire, his life flashed before his eyes. Short 1-second clips played in his head starting from when he was a child to meeting Haley, marrying her, having Jack, her passing away, moments with his team, raising Jack, meeting you, marrying you, having twins with you.

Everything flashed before his eyes and in that moment, Aaron Hotchner was scared. He knew you and his three kids were waiting for him to return, but now, now a bomb was going off in a building that he was trying to get an unsub to walk away from and let the bomb squad take care of it.

You were a doctor at the local hospital. You finally were coming off a long stretch and decided to take the day off to spend with the kids. You knew Aaron was busy but that didn't stop you from planning out a day to spend with your kiddos. Taking them to their favorite breakfast place, letting them play at the park and then bringing them back home to let them pick a movie and have a movie afternoon before the twins had to go down for a nap.

You were excited to have Aaron home tonight. The kids have missed him and you deeply missed him. Both of you working strange hours, his even weirder hours than yours, it was harder to see your husband and have family days.

The sound of your phone ringing took you out of your thoughts. Picking up your phone, you saw JJ's name come across as the caller ID.

"What's going on, JJ?"

You got up and walked into the bedroom. Not wanting Jack to overhear you on the phone with his aunt.

"Aaron was in an accident. He's going to the hospital now. A bomb went off. He was knocked unconscious. Do you want to come to the hospital to be here when he wakes up."

"Yes. Yes. I'll be there shortly. Oh my god."

You hung up, quickly telling Jack to grab snacks for him and the twins and to meet you in the car. You woke your twins up and brought them into the car.

"Daddy got hurt at work. He's sleeping right now, but we want to be there when he wakes up, okay?"

You looked in the rearview mirror of your 3 kids. You saw the fear in Jack's eyes. He was 13. He knew that it wasn't good. You didn't know the extent of Aaron's injuries, you wouldn't know until you got to the hospital, but you couldn't scare Jack just yet. Your twins were only 3, they didn't really understand.

You saw Aaron's team in the waiting room. Your twins excited to see their aunts and uncles, you just wish it was under better circumstances.

"What room is he in?"

"We haven't heard If he's done from getting his CT scan."

"Oh. Okay."

Seconds turned into minutes, minutes turned into hours before your coworker came out to get you.

"Y/n, would you like to see him? Maybe just you first, I know he'd love to see his kids."

You knew hospital protocol. It was always better start with less guests first before bombarding them with a bunch of guests. You didn't want to overwhelm Aaron."

"I know, can you take me to see my husband please?"

As you walked in the hospital hallways, it felt different. You have walked these hallways more than a thousand times. You've ran in these hallways. But the feeling of having a loved one in the hospital was a feeling you didn't want to experience.

Walking into the room, you saw Aaron laying in that hospital bed.

Your face immediately lit up seeing Aaron awake and talking to the nurse. You heard him say something about having a son and you were just surprised he didn't say anything about you walking into the room. You weren't going to say anything though.

"Hey Aar."

Then you saw him look at you. You saw this look on patient's who had amnesia. You didn't need to hear the words out of Aaron's mouth to know that he didn't recognize you. And that hurt.

"I'm sorry, have we met before?"

Tread lightly, that's all you kept telling yourself. He went through a traumatic event. But you wanted to cry. Did he not remember, at minimum, the past 5 years of his life. He was talking about Jack, you know that he knows Jack exists. What were you going to tell Tommy and Sophia?

"Um, we have met before. I'm Y/n. I know you were in an accident. You work for the FBI. Um, do you remember anything?"

"Y/n. I like that name."

That's what he told you when he interviewed you for the first time at the hospital. Well, not really interviewed you, but questioned you asking about a patient.

"I know."

"I have a son, his name is Jack."

"Aaron. I know this is hard to even think about but you and I. We met about 5 years ago, we got married, and, and we have 3 year old twins. Jack, he's 13. He's a crazy teenager, but we love him."

Aaron looked at you and you could see the tears form in his eyes.

"I want to believe you, Y/n. But, but I can't. I don't, I don't remember. I'm sorry."

You couldn't break down in front of Aaron. But deep down, you were falling apart. This hurt. He didn't remember a life with you in it.

"Well, Jack would probably love to see you. Let me go get him."

You walked back out and the team all came around you.

"Um, he doesn't remember who I am. He doesn't know who the twins are. He doesn't remember his life with me in it. He remember's Jack and probably you guys. He doesn't remember the twins. I can't bring the twins to see him."

Rossi looked at you and moved to hug you. You always loved a Rossi hug. They were the closest thing to your father's hugs and you lost your father around 2 and a Half years ago.

"What am I gonna do, Rossi? He's my rock. He's my best friend. He's the father to my children. He doesn't remember anything with me in his life."

Rossi wiped your tears, realizing your children were running towards you.

"Where's daddy?"

Kneeling down you were met with the curious eyes of your twins. Jack standing behind them.

"Papa Rossi is going to take Jack to see Daddy, but we want to let daddy have some rest. Aunt JJ is going to take you guys home, okay."

Holding your twins in your arms, you explained to them that their Dad needed to rest but Jack knew something was wrong. You looked up at Jack and saw all the questions running through his mind. Your twins just knew that Dad needed to rest and that they could see them later. They also knew that if Aunt JJ took them home (sure enough to see Aunt Penny) they were getting ice cream.

"Love you mama. Give Daddy our pictures."

They handed you pieces of paper that they colored and it was of your little family. You wanted to cry but knew you couldn't. You didn't know when Aaron would break this amnesia spell but you also couldn't rush it on him. It hurt you knowing you couldn't give your husband a hug and kiss right now. It hurt knowing your twins couldn't see their father.

The Aaron you knew would've wanted to see you and his three kids right away, and you were right too. He wanted to see Jack right away. So that's when you needed to step up and be strong for everyone. Be strong for Jack who was sure to have questions.

When you walked into the hospital room with Jack, you didn't miss the way Aaron looked at Jack, not realizing who he was then quickly recovering when Jack said, "Hey Dad!"

Jack said, "I want mom to stay here with us, that's okay, right dad?"

"Yeah. Of course it's okay."

Jack pulled up a chair next to Aaron's bedside and you saw the way Aaron was trying to piece together bits and pieces of the information Jack was telling him. Aaron doesn't remember the last 5 years of his life.

You know how scary it had to be for Aaron. He's talking to his teenage son who he doesn't remember being a teenager. He had to sit in a room with his wife that he didn't remember.

After leaving the hospital that night, Jack had a lot of questions. You had to sit at the dinner table with him answering everything you could. You were a doctor and Jack knew that. He knew that you knew what was really going on with his dad.

You didn't want to tell him that his father hadn't remembered the last 5 years of his life, but you had to because you didn't want to lie. You might have to rebuild this life with Aaron and hope that he falls back in love with you.

The Aaron with amnesia was a single father to Jack, the old Aaron, the Aaron that you had 24 hours ago was a husband and a father to three children.

The next week was hard on everyone. Aaron came home from the hospital and he decided it was best to live with one of his team members, especially since he didn't remember you and your twins.

That was hard on you. Aaron was shutting you out when all you wanted to do was help him. You can't blame him, but you're heart broken. Jack moved out of the house temporarily to move into Dave's with his Dad.

That was a talk Dave had with Jack. You couldn't be there for it because you didn't want to lose Jack and now your twins were missing their big brother.

Dave decided that since all Aaron remembers was raising Jack and by this, the team's hoping that he'll start remembering everything with this help, but not rushing him into his home with his wife and all the kids, especially when he didn't remember them.

Another week had gone by and it was the first week that you were home alone with the twins. You could take care of them, that wasn't the problem, but it messed up everyone's routine not having Aaron and Jack there.

Every night, Aaron would read the twins a book while they got ready for bed.

Sophia spoke up one night that made you break down in the room by yourself.

"Mommy, Can Daddy call us to read us our story?"

Tommy brought the book and your phone to you and you had to come up with a distraction to get them into bed.

That was a rough night, when your twins had noticed that Aaron had cut off communication with them. Aaron always read them a story, whether he was physically here with them, or he called them.

When your phone started ringing, you were concerned when it was Jack calling you. He had only texted up until this point.

"Jackers, what's going on?"

Your twins were trying to push you out of the way and said, "Jack! Jack!"

"Hey Sophia, Hey Tommy. I know it's your bed time, can I read you your book?"

They started clapping and you smiled at the phone. You were so proud of your son. You know he was struggling not being around his siblings. He loved his little siblings so much. We'll see what happens when he's a teenager but for now, he loved them.

Jack started reading the book and in the background, you saw Aaron slowly stop whatever he was doing. You felt like you were watching the pieces of the past 5 years of his life start to connect.

Your heart nearly stopped for a moment when he looked over at Jack and the phone. You thought he was going to walk over but then he continued whatever it was he was doing before hand.

When Jack finished the book, the twins had already fallen asleep. You told Jack you loved him and that you'd talk to him tomorrow to let him finish up his homework and relax before he had to get to bed.

When you said goodbye to your son, kissed Tommy and Sophia goodnight, you went to your room and cried. You wanted your husband back. You were upset he shut you out during his recovery. You wanted nothing more than to be there for him, but he didn't want you there. It hurt. It hurt really bad.

You grabbed a tub of ice cream and turned on a movie. You didn't care what you watched, you just wanted something to distract you from your life.

When you heard a "mom" come from right outside your room, you didn't recognize your twins' voices, that was a voice you hadn't heard in person in 2 weeks.

"Jackers"

Jack rushed into your room and jumped onto your bed, just like when he was a little kid. He hugged you so tight and told him how much he missed you.

"Jack, how did you - What are you doing here? You're supposed to be at Uncle Dave's house."

"I brought him home."

You looked towards your doorway and Aaron was standing there. You got up from bed and Aaron said, "When Jack was reading that book, everything clicked for me. That was the book I was supposed to read to Tommy and Sophia every night before they go to bed. Everything caught up to me all at once. I remember the bomb going off two weeks ago. I remember being thrown against the wall and hitting my head. I remember just praying to whoever would listen that I would be okay so I could get home to you and our three kids."

You immediately wrapped your arms around Aaron and broke down crying. You missed him, but you finally had your husband back.

"I'm sorry I pushed you away. I'm sorry that I wasn't more careful at work. I knew I had to get home to you and the kids and I saw everything flash before my eyes. I thought I was going to die right there."

You couldn't hear it anymore so you finally kissed him to shut him up. It was a long-awaited kiss. One with love and passion and apologies filled with it.

"Your twins really miss you. Let's go wake them up."

As you watched Aaron wake up Tommy and Sophia, they immediately yelled "daddy" and jumped into his arms. Aaron needed that reunion, the twins needed that reunion, Jack needed that reunion, and you needed that reunion. Your family was back together again. Once the twins were read their bedtime story by Aaron, they quickly fell asleep again, you two said goodnight to Jack and then you and your husband were off to your bedroom to spend the rest of the night in his arms.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x female reader #jack hotchner

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fluffysucker · 4 months

Text

Bad Things

Bucky Barnes x Reader

TW: Violence. Fighting. Brief mention of torture. Steve is alive and well.

The only way out was to awake them. And you did.

A/n: Heavily influenced by oxytocin by Billie Eilish. No like you will find lyrics throughout. Listen to it while reading, please.

Written in Third POV. No use of Y/N. However, the reader is referred to as a female. Likes, comments, reblogs are VERY VERY highly appreciated. Opinions really matter to me.

Main Masterlist

You were sure that if you weren't driving the motorcycle, your legs would be bouncing, your hands would be shaking, and your palms would be sweating. But you were focusing on the road ahead despite feeling like you were driving on autopilot. You may not look like it, but you were a mess. Internally, at least. Anxity from the plan, danger of the situation, horrors from flashbacks, and uncertainty of the results. You were bitting your lips that you were close to feeling the metallic-tasting liquid on your tongue.

The darkness that grew, the further you got close to the agreed upon location, wasn't helping either. For someone who did this for a lifetime, you were spiraling. You wished you could cancel everything and come up with something different, but you couldn't.

Can't take it back once it's been set in motion.

You started to regulate your breath, take control of your mind, and keep your heartbeats in check once you saw the warehouse. It was now. There was no going back.

You stopped the motorcycle abruptly, causing the sand and dust around you to fly away. You took one last breath before taking the helmet out.

You got up and steadied your posture. The suit was never comfortable on your skin. Today, you felt like it was crawling on your skin, trying to devour you. You hid the suffocating feeling and put the act into action.

If you only pray on Sunday,

Could you come my way on Monday?

Confidence and peril were displayed. A strenuous look on your face. You were back in her.

"I thought you weren't coming." His voice annoyed you so much that you wanted to cut his throat open.

"I gave you a word, didn't I?" You came to a stop with enough distance between you and him. Even your voice was different in your ears.

"It's not like you had many choices." His laugh sent shivers through your body that you were able to hide.

"I always believed in your intelligence, moon." You pulled your hands into fists to stop any visible reaction from coming out of you.

The name was only associated with corruption and cruelty. Something the man in front of you strived for.

"With both of your capabilities, we will go back to the top of the world." The evil smile was more telling of his intentions than his disturbing words.

With the mere mention of him, you felt the air get thicker, the wind blowing harder, the stars dimming their lights, and the rocks and pebbles shaking on the floor.

He was here.

"Great. We didn't have to wait long for him." The man almost clapped in excitement.

In the sea of the darkness of the night and the void you were in, he appeared. His black suit made him almost unseen in the darkness of the night. But his heavy footsteps made him known.

The golden in his arm reflecting the light of the stars and the mask covering all his face except the eyes were making him even more fearful.

In person, he was much more terrifying than the stories and myths.

However, the crazy man didn't think so.

"Would you look at that?" He said once that the two of you were standing next to each other. You wanted to hold his hand, seeking any sort of comfort and reassurance, but you knew it would blow out your act.

"The Winter Soldier and Wicked Moon. Together and back at their home."

Dugal, the man speaking, had been the bane of your existence for some time now. Every mission, every warehouse, every file, and every piece of evidence all trailed back to him.

The manic, who had been obsessed with bringing Hydra back to life,.

With the right allies and calculated steps, he was able to achieve most of his plans in secret, but why show yourself now? Why draw attention to you now?

Because it was time to get Hydra's greatest weapons back.

You and your husband.

You and Sergeant James Barnes

Wicked Moon and The Winter Soldier.

You and Bucky shared the same life. Kidnapped by Hydra, injected with the serum, erased and brainwashed, trained to maximum efficiency. You reached levels of skills that were unmatched.

Despite the different start, you and Bucky were the faces of the same coin.

You were taken a bit after Bucky. Hydra had the goal of making both of you into its lethal duo. Unbeatable and unpredictable. You and Bucky became the ghost story for decades. Never once seen or traced.

You were a myth that terrified all.

And for decades, you spent all your days with Bucky, or who you called soldier at a time, because you didn't know his real name. Nor did he know yours, and he called you Moon.

You shared a cell. You trained together. You were sent on missions together. You were tortured together. You were used to each other's screams and pains. You were the same person in many ways.

While Hydra was blinded and happy with your success rate and obedience, they failed to notice the deep connection that was forming between the two of you.

The comfort you found in each other. The conversations without words. The accustomedness. The long eye contact and gaze The gentle touches that only you provided each other with. The worry and panic if one went on solo missions.

You understood each other. You trusted each other. You empathized with each other. You prayed for each other's freedom.

You loved each other.

So, looking at Bucky with questioning and worried eyes above Steve Roger's unconscious body after you disobeyed the direct orders of eliminating Steve and following Bucky to save him from death by drowning, Bucky knew he could never leave you. He took your hand and ran away.

Other people wouldn't stay

Other people don't obey

You and me are both the same

You should really run away

It was a long and bumpy road. Gaining back your memories and learning how to live. But you held each other's hands. And in the face of all the hardships, you stood together.

You fought it all until you finally settled into your shared apartment in Brooklyn. Almost ten years after escaping Hydra.

You thought life was finally good. You knew who you were. You got back your identities. You were healing bit by bit. You finished therapy and were officially pardoned. You were allowed on missions, but more importantly, you were allowed to turn down missions. A luxury you and Bucky never had.

You were so happy for Bucky, who got to have his bestfriend back, Steve, and make a new one, Sam. You were happy that one of you could have someone, especially after finding out that you had nobody, which made you the perfect target for Hydra in the first place.

But being the good people they were, Steve and Sam instantly took you in like family. They could easily tell how much you meant to Bucky. Even from the first day. Whether on the bridge or in Bucharest, The uncontrolled urge to protect you despite being perfectly capable of looking after yourself. The care and admiration in his eyes whenever you were around or your name was mentioned. All and more signs that exposed Bucky's feelings for you.

They were more than happy when Bucky told them that you got married on the very long, overdue vacation that you went on.

You were everything to Bucky's. His love. His life. His rescue. His salvation. You were his reason to keep going.

While he felt bad that you had to go through the tough life you had, he couldn't imagine how his life would have looked if he had never met you.

So when the danger of Hydra taking you away from him arose with Dugal's appearance, Bucky almost lost his mind.

Dugal seemed insistent on taking you and Bucky back. He was destroying places, terrorizing, and hurting innocent people. Dugal heard you were trying to be good people, so he played on your conscience. He was pushing you and Bucky towards this moment. The moment you caved and gave up. The moment you returned to Hydra.

So, with his knife on Cass's neck, you surrendered. You promised to meet him and do whatever he wanted. And you promised to bring Bucky as well. He wanted the both of you.

And you listened.

Here you were. In the suits you thought you would never put on again. Triggering the two people you buried so deeply within. In front of the warehouse of an enemy, you fought for and against your whole lives.

"This is your home. This is your purpose. Not fake heroism. You were made to serve the greater good. To protect and serve Hydra." Dugal's voice made its way to your ears.

"You belong to Hydra. And Hydra only."

'Cause as long as you're still breathing

Don't you even think of leaving

Not gonna wanna look away, look away, look away

You're gonna wanna get involved, involved, involved

And what would people say, people say, people say

If they listen through the wall, the wall, the wall?

You kept the stoic expression on your face, refusing to let him see the effect his words had on you.

The door of the warehouse opened, and walking out of it were Dugal's two trusted men that you saw everywhere with him. Nedward and Alexios. They stopped behind him.

Following them, hundreds of agents came out of the warehouse. They surrounded you and Bucky in seconds. You looked at Dugal, confused.

"I want to make sure you are still the best. I want to know where to pick up from." His smile was wicked and filled with bad intentions.

"Call it a test. A test of Wicked Moon and The Winter Soldier's abilities." His wicked smile wasn't flattering.

You got into a fighting position quickly, not willing to lose this. You felt Bucky take position, too, his back turning to you. You were back-to-back, moving in slow circles, assisting the situation.

And once the first agent threw the punch, it was nonstop.

I can see it clear as day

You don't really need a break

Wanna see what you can take

You should really run away

While the agents largely outnumbered you, they were at a disadvantage. You and Bucky fought like one. You had a never-seen-before fight style. You designed it so that you used each other's strengths to the full and utilized the weaknesses as power points. You used your full bodies in fighting. You were familiar with each other's bodies and movements. You grabbed weapons that were strapped to the other's suit. You twisted around each other to reach as many targets as possible. You trained until you perfected it. No flaws. No mistakes. No room for lacunas.

It didn't take long before the last agent was down on the floor. You felt like it was harder to breathe. There was a ringing noise in your ears. Your hand wanted to start shaking. Tears were rushing to your eyes. You were having a panic attack.

Memories of missions and assignments you did throughout your life It all looked like this. You standing above the fallen, waiting for your destiny to be decided by an evil organization that thought of you as an object of killing.

Dugal's voice gave you a sense of where you were and the situation around you. Quickly, you pushed your emotions inside and regained your focus. A trait you learned from your days at Hydra. Human emotions were never well accepted by Hydra.

You shook your head as you looked at Dugal, who was clapping slowly.

"Excellent. Great job." He moved a bit towards the both of you.

"It seems you haven't changed. Still the best." You succeeded in his test.

"You did cost me all the agents in the base. But we will bring more." Dugal was proud of the two assets.

"So it's only us in here?" You were hoping to get a specific answer.

"Yes. Tomorrow, I will bring agents and recruiters. Also, scientists who know how to treat and handle great weapons like you. This will be Hydra's biggest base." Dugal seemed excited for his plan.

However, once the words left his mouth, chaos erupted everywhere.

Bucky caught the shield in his hand as Sam and Steve landed on the ground and attacked Dugal. You and Bucky moved to Nedward and Alexios. Each taking on one.

Cars and vehicles appeared everywhere, lighting up the deserted place.

This was the plan all along.

No matter how much time passed, Hydra's men would always have something in common. They were arrogant. They had an ego big enough for an entire population. And that made them stupid. That made them vulnerable to mistakes.

You and Bucky knew that more than anyone. So the plan was to trick Dugal with your alliance until he was defenceless. It was risky, but it worked.

You only let go of Alexios once handcuffs were secured around his wrists. Same with Bucky and Nedward. You turned to see Sam and Steve holding Dugal until Torres handcuffed him.

"You think you won?" His words were more direct towards you and Bucky.

"You think you can ever escape this? You think you can be free? You are delusional. Hydra will never die." Dugal continued. Torres handcuffed him, letting Steve through him in one of the more armored cars and strapping him more.

"Cut off one head; two more shall take its place. Hail HYDRA!"

Steve closed the door of the car.

They weren't planning to cut off one head. They were planning to burn down the whole bunch. No mercy. No stopping until they were all gone.

Once his voice was muted and you couldn't see him anymore, you couldn't hold up any longer. You sat on the ground, hugging your knees to your chest, trying to get hold of yourself, trying to reconnect, trying to disassociate from what just happened.

Like you, immediately after the car started to move, Bucky threw the mask off his face, finally breathing. He hated everything about this mask. Trapped like an animal behind it. Deprived of any form of humanity.

He prayed he never had to put on again.

"You okay?" Sam asked his friend, worried about the mental toll this whole act may have had on him.

Despite having his nephews being the ones in danger, Sam was against this plan. He cared about you and Bucky dearly and didn't want to know how stepping back into your assassin personas would hurt your healing. You had come a long way.

While your quick response to save his nephews and willingness to do this for them touched his heart immensely, Sam couldn't help but feel like they should come up with something else.

But both of you insisted, and it worked, but was the cost expensive?

Bucky nodded. They were okay physically, at least.

Bucky turned around to see you still sitting on the sandy ground, face in hand. He knew it wasn't just today, but the whole thing. Hydra still haunted you, messing with your progress. He understood.

Bucky sat on the ground next to you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling into him and letting you lay in his laps, both of your legs on the side of his thigh. You nuzzled into his neck, holding his gear in your hand. You wanted to disappear in him.

"It's over. You're fine. You are okay. You are safe." Bucky's voice whispered in your ears, the end of his long hair touching your face and his hands wrapping up your back and waist.

You felt the tension leaving your body a bit by bit, making yourself only focus on Bucky's voice and letting yourself breathe. You knew you were surrounded by people, but you didn't care.

You only cared about Bucky right now.

You moved away from Bucky so you could look at him.

"We are okay. We are safe." You said to Bucky.

Because you cared about Bucky more than you cared about yourself. You loved Bucky more than anything. Bucky was the reason you were still alive. Bucky was your everything.

You wanted him to know that he was okay, too. You both survived this. You weren't back in that cell. You were going to your home.

Being the good-hearted person he was, Bucky always felt responsible for you. Even when he was the Winter Soldier. That's how the spark between you kindled. His instincts to protect you and care for you took a big part of him. And that made you fall deeper in love with him.

But you loved him just as much, if not more. You wanted to protect him from the hell you went through. Because he didn't deserve it. None of it.

The bigger burden of today wasn't the possibility of falling back into your old selves. It was the possibility of losing your partner to Hydra and watching them lose themselves once again.

You both came in with one goal. Protect each other to death.

And you succeeded. You were fine.

Bucky looked at you with love pouring out of his eyes. Bucky didn't understand how, after so much evil, he was still able to feel such strong emotions of love and adoration. But you melted him and lived in his heart. You were printed on his soul.

He nodded with a smile. You were okay. He leaned in and kissed you. It was a slow and gentle kiss. A reminder that you were both still yourselves. You were free. You were okay.

"Let's go home." You spoke once the kiss broke.

Home. Bucky was going home to the city he grew up in. He was going home to a place he had chosen to live. He was going home, where he would take a shower and lay on a comfortable bed. Bucky was going with his wife. Bucky was going to hold on as you both got rid of the remains of tonight. Bucky was going to hold you as you both drifted to sleep, dreaming of your future together.

Hydra didn't win. You were okay.

174 notes · View notes

heavyhitterheaux · 5 months

Text

Thankful For You

First Lady of Private Garden Fic

Synopsis: A nurse who has been taking care of the triplets ever since they were born has a surprise for you and Jack in your first holiday season as parents and you realize the amazing tribe of people that you have behind you want nothing but the best for the both of you

Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader

First Lady of Private Garden Masterlist

Warnings: mention of d*ath

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Your hands were shaking as you were trying to zip up your coat and they were soon covered by Jack's who simply held onto you for a second before leaning down to kiss your forehead.

“I got it, baby.” He told you as he finished zipping it up and wrapping your scarf around your neck.

“Thank you.” You quietly said, attempting to not burst into tears.

Thanksgiving was going to look a little different this year seeing as Axel was still in the NICU and Ivy and Autumn had come home a month earlier. It was still very touch and go with him and your only wish this holiday season was to not have to bury your second born.

“You're welcome. You know I got you.” He replied before leaning down to kiss you.

While the two of you went to the hospital to spend time with Axel, your mom offered to keep Ivy and Autumn and the two of you promised that you would be over later.

You and Jack obviously weren't in the mood to celebrate the holidays or be around anyone, but you thought that it would be a good distraction from everything else going on around the two of you.

Jack held your hand as the two of you walked to his jeep and helped you inside while he jogged around to the driver's side. The radio was on a low volume as he started up the car and headed towards the hospital.

The two of you were riding in a comfortable silence as Jack reached over to take your hand in his and bring it up to his mouth so that he could place a kiss on the back of it.

You looked over at him and gave him a small smile.

“You know what I'm thankful for today?” He asked you as the two of you finally pulled up into the hospital parking lot.

“Hmm, what would that be?” You asked as you undid your seatbelt and looked over at him.

“That I can wake up every morning and still see my beautiful wife next to me. I really thought that I was going to have to live without you and I don't know what I would have done if that became a reality.”

“You know me better than that. I wasn't leaving without putting up a fight and I'm definitely thankful for that too. I feel for the mothers who don't even get to see their children after they give birth to them. My heart just breaks knowing that could have been my reality. I didn't even see Axel, they immediately took him.”

“I know. But if he's anything like his mother, which I know he is, he's still fighting because he wants to be here.”

“I feel that I don't sleep well at night because I am so on edge. I just wait for the phone to ring and…” You started to say as you felt the tears coming on and Jack immediately reached across the console to bring you into a hug as you cried into his chest. Jack didn’t really sleep at night either, not since the night that you came home and the nightmares started up again.

He soothingly rubbed your back as he comforted you the best he could.

“He's being strong for us so we need to be strong for him. We made some amazing kids who I know are going to go on to do amazing things. This is only a setback and not the end all be all.” Jack said as he looked down at you to wipe your tears as you nodded and he kissed your nose, making you smile.

“Let's go see our son, he's waiting for us.”

Once the two of you got to the unit and washed your hands, Jack was the first one to pick up Axel who was still wearing oxygen since he had gotten extubated two days before.

You and Jack had lost count of how many times this had happened since he had been born and the crazy thing was that he had only been alive for three months.

“Hi baby boy, it’s daddy.”

Axel immediately perked up from hearing his voice and opened his eyes to look at him which immediately made you smile.

Just then, Cara, who was a nurse and had taken care of all of the triplets numerous times since they had been born, came over to the three of you and smiled. Her sister was actually the nurse who had taken care of you when you had first woken up in the ICU.

“He had a really good night and today is going well for him. When he goes into a deep sleep, we're going to try and turn down his oxygen a little bit more and mom, if you want to feed him while you're here, by all means.”

You immediately nodded and smiled as you stroked his cheek as Jack was still holding him.

“How are my other two doing? Ms. Ivy and Ms. Autumn?” She curiously asked as she adjusted Axel's oxygen in his nose.

“They're fine. Even if they've been home for a month we're still trying to adjust to everything.”

“It'll take time, but you'll get there.”

As Jack was still holding Axel, he immediately took hold of his finger and tightly held onto it.

“He looks like you.” You whispered as you were admiring the two of them.

“You think so? I think he looks like you.”

“Yes and now I'm understanding why I had so much heartburn. Look how much hair he has and he definitely got that from you.”

“He's definitely going to get all the ladies. He already has all of us wrapped around his finger.” Cara said as he ruffled his hair.

“Even though technically you two are the celebrities, he's a celebrity here in our unit.”

“I believe it.” You answered as Jack handed Axel to you to feed him.

“I swear you get cuter every time I see you. Jack, we made cute babies.” You told him and all Jack did was smirk.

“Yeah, he got that from me.”

“Jackman, don't start.” You said while laughing and starting to feed Axel.

“Well, did I lie?”

All you did was look at him and shake your head.

“You don't have a serious bone in your body.”

“You've been with me since you were fifteen, and you're just now noticing?”

The two of you stayed with Axel the entire morning and majority of the afternoon when Cara came up to the two of you as you were getting ready to leave.

“Hey, I wanted to catch the two of you before you left.”

“Yes, what's going on? Everything okay?” Jack asked her as he was zipping up his coat.

“Everything’s fine. Follow me and I can show you.”

Walking hand in hand behind Cara down a few long hallways, you both finally reached one of the family rooms that they had that the two of you had come to know all too well in the last three months, but before Cara opened the door she turned back to the two of you.

“I just wanted to say that I know that this hasn't been easy for you and there's been a lot of uncertainty and I just wanted to tell both of you that you're doing an amazing job and those three have some amazing parents. I know the last place you want to be on Thanksgiving is in a hospital so I got a little help to do this for the two of you.”

Once Cara opened the door, the two of you saw both of your families surrounding a table full of food as well as Maggie holding Ivy and your dad holding Autumn.

“Cara… this is…” Jack started to say, but all she did was smile.

“It was both of your parent's ideas so I just made it work.” She said while shrugging.

“Well we appreciate you either way for everything that you’ve done for us.” You replied as you and Jack pulled her into a hug.

“Thank you for taking care of our babies as well as you have.” Jack added as you were attempting to not to cry for the third time today.

“You're welcome. Now let me get back to your little man and you two try to enjoy the rest of your day. Just bring me a slice of pie.”

“You and the unit are definitely getting more than just pie.” You said as she brought you into another hug.

“Go and enjoy your family while I take care of your smallest one.”

Cara walked back to the NICU as you greeted your parents, your in-laws, Clay, Dani, your grandparents as well as Jack's grandparents, both of your aunts, uncles, a few of your cousins and of course the triplets godfather who takes his job a little too seriously, Urban before you were ordered by Maggie to sit down.

“You guys didn't have to do this for us.” You quietly said, but Maggie immediately shook her head no.

“Yes we did and we wanted to. A lot has happened this year and it was only right.” She quickly answered as everyone began to fix their plates.

Dani came up and hugged you from behind and kissed the top of your head and squeezed you tightly as you held onto her.

“I love you so much and don't you ever forget it. I'm so happy my baby girl is still here. I don't know what I would have done if I had lost you.” She whispered in your ear and you were doing your best not to cry.

“I love you too.” You answered as Urban then came up to you.

“My best friend in the entire universe.” You said as you held your arms out towards him and he quickly reached down to hug you.

Since Urban had been the person that you had told about the letters that you had written before they did your c section, when he showed up to the hospital and saw Jack’s face full of tears, he immediately knew that Jack needed to read the letter you wrote for him.

Urban obviously took it extra hard and didn’t want to believe that anything bad had happened to you, but when it was just you and him in your hospital room as you were intubated and Jack had gone to see the triplets, he promised you that he would do his best to look out for him and the triplets like you asked even if the last thing he wanted to think about was being without one of his best friends.

“Lil Bit! And I know what you’re about to say, I saw my family earlier, but I knew my second family needed me too and I wanted to see my mini me.”

“Well your mini me is doing amazing according to Cara. I just hope we can bring him home soon.”

“I’m thankful that you’re still here because I have no idea what we would have done without you.” Urban whispered in your ear and it took everything in you for you not to cry.

“Urby.”

“You don’t even have to say anything, but just so you know, I would have kept the promise that I made you and the rest of PG are on their way as we speak since we didn’t get to do our friendsgiving this year.”

All you did was nod towards him as Jack placed your plate in front of you along with your drink before kissing your cheek which instantly made you smile.

You told him thank you as everyone began eating.

Ivy was asleep in your arms since Maggie had handed her to you and she was content as you were eating your food while Autumn was wide awake in Clay's arms looking around to see what was happening. She was nosey and you knew that she had gotten it from you.

“How is Axel doing?” Your mom asked the both of you since the last she heard was you crying on the phone a few days ago because he had to be intubated again.

“Better. He's on oxygen and Cara said they might be able to turn it down later depending on how he does and he's feeding really well.” Jack answered as Ivy began to shift on your arms. You began to rock her back and forth and she settled back down.

“One step closer to coming home.”

“And that is literally all we want and all we could ask for.”

“You two are doing an amazing job and you know that we're here for you. Anything that you need, all you have to do is tell us.”

“We appreciate that.”

Everyone had finished eating as you were simply laying your head on Jack’s shoulder who had your hand in his and was rubbing small circles on the back of it as Ivy and Autumn were being passed around and being admired by your family members how much Ivy looked like you and how much Autumn looked like Jack.

“Now you know what we have to do. Go around the table and say one thing that you're thankful for.” Maggie said and Jack volunteered to start.

“I already told her this earlier, but I'm thankful that I still have my wife. I know that I have a tribe behind me and the babies would have been fine, but I know my life won't be the same without you. So thank you for fighting as hard as you did so that you could live and see our babies grow up.”

“You're going to make me cry for like the millionth time today, but I'm thankful for you too. Despite all that happened, we beat the odds and we're still together and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Thank you for all that you do for me.”

“My parents!” You heard Urban say and all you did was laugh.

“But you know where to find me once you drop him.”

“Oh lord. Here we go.” You heard 2fo say over his plate of food and you were wondering when he had come in because you hadn’t seen him or the rest of PG for that matter who was sitting next to him.

“Since when did yall get here?!”

“A few minutes ago and we see Clay is still being the annoying little brother who takes his role very seriously.” Quiiso added which made you stifle a laugh.

“CLAY! Just because it's your birthday doesn't mean I won't kick you into next week.” Jack exclaimed while glaring at him.

“Will you really hit me while I'm holding my niece?”

“Hand her to Dani and meet me outside. I don’t want her to witness this ass whooping you about to get.”

You simply shook your head at the two of them going back and forth and realized how thankful you were for your amazing friends and family that would do anything for you, Jack as well as your triplets.

The road ahead was probably going to be anything and everything but easy, but as long as you had them in your corner there was nothing that you wouldn’t be able to achieve.

Once the two of them were done arguing and glaring at each other, you tugged on Jack’s hand and told him that you wanted to talk a walk and just have a few minutes with him without anyone interrupting and he immediately nodded.

The two of you were just taking a stroll around the perimeter of the hospital hand in hand when you finally broke the silence.

“Baby?”

“Yes, mamas?”

“I love you and would do anything for you even though I have already told you that a million times today, I just….. I know that I haven’t been the perfect wife and have a lot to work on but….”

“There’s still no one in the world that I would rather do this with. We both have a lot to work on and I love you too. All we can do is take it one step at a time. It’s going to be okay and our triplets will be okay.” Jack answered you as you brought him into a tight hug, thankful that you were still able to do so.

“So, when can we make another one?” Jack asked you while smirking and all you did was playfully hit his arm.

“Talk to me in about four years and we’ll see.”

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#jack harlow #jack harlow fic #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x black reader #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow fluff #first lady of pg

149 notes · View notes

thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch · 6 months

Text

anon asked:

Hi! It says on your description thing that your requests are open? ( I’m sorry for this if they’re closed :’) )

I read your request rules and it said you take poly kiribaku and I was wondering if you could write a scenario of kiribaku with a fashion designer reader? reader makes them suits and an outfit for themselves from scratch for an event? Just kinda funny fluffy stuff with reader slowly getting more annoyed at them not cooperating ( mainly Bakugou cause he’s Bakugou lol ) but still managing to finish and make them cool suits and an outfit for themselves too :)

I’ve had this lil idea in my head for months now and I love your writing, so if you think you could do something with this I’d be very happy :)) ( sorry for the long request, if you don’t want to write this I wouldn’t mind, also sorry again if your requests are closed :’) )

thank you! :))

a/n: so sorry its a bit short anon, but i did what i could!

w.count: 1.1k

your office was currently a mess. an organized mess but a mess nonetheless and katsuki made sure you knew that by his sneering. it wasn't unusual for either of your boyfriends' to stop by your workplace for various reasons. forgot your lunch, bringing you papers you needed, maybe repairs to their hero suits since your stitching 'holds up better than others'. still, this time you were the one to strong-arm them into both coming by. or rather, strong-arm katsuki, since eijirou had no issues in popping by when you called.

your work office was filled with used and unused mannequins, your main desk, a separate desk littered with fabric scraps, your sewing machines, and straight pens left, right, and center. there was also a quiant little loveseat with two comfortable cushions you have for visiting clients.

that very loveseat is where both your boyfriends' currently parked their asses. you standing in front of them with your hands on your hips and a tape measure gripped in your palm.

"i dont see why we need all new shit," katsuki groans, his arms on the back of the loveseat, looking away from your unimpressed scowl. eijiou curls his lips in to try- and fail- to conceal the amused look on his face.

you had called them both here because of the next hero gala. the dates were finally sent out to those permitted to attend, and both of their names were on the roster. of course, they would be going- mostly because katsuki's pr team begged him to- and since they got to bring plus ones along, you would also be with them.

the two of them have always been wearing store bought formal wear or renting suits, but this was literally your area of expertise! you would get measurements from the two of them if it was the last thing youd do before making them outfits they can freely keep for such occasions.

eijirou had no qualms about the whole process. in fact, his measurements went smoothly aside from him flexing his arms when you were trying to get their circumference.

"yes, you're very muscular babe, now relax your arm or so help me," was what he got in return to his playful tomfoolery. checking off his waist and hips was also filled with banter since at least three times he had hugged you and kept joking about how he wasn't just going to not when you were right in front of him. that would be far too many wasted opportunities.

katsuki had been scrolling on his phone the whole time eijirou was prolonging his process by playing harmless pranks and showering you in goofy affection as he does. you almost wished you had measured him last to get the stubborn fool that is katsuki over with first though.

now, here you stand, impatiently waiting for him to get his ass up and get started.

"katsuki," you warn, his head tipping back in a groan. "i've got all day," you tell him as if you weren't bothered in the slightest. you were though, and annoyed to boot. while you did in fact have time, that doesn't mean you want it to be wasted in a battle of wits.

"what's the damn point of taking measurements? we've got plenty of shit at home to wear."

"no, you don't. I do, but you guys have nothing properly formal enough for a gala, and im sick of renting suits when i can just make something and save some money in the process. do you know how expensive it is to rent a suit? no, because you're loaded, so up."

"i did enough of this kinda shit growin' up, i aint dealing with it when im not even livin' with my folks anymore."

you roll your tongue across your teeth, squeezing the space between your eyes with your fingers and holding yourself back.

"come on, kats, don't be such a fun sponge," eijirou tries to help. knocking him lightly in the side with his elbow, katsuki just huffs and looks at the nearest clock as if gauging when your workday was supposed to end and how long he can keep this up.

"fine," you heave, tossing your measuring tape at his chest before it flops onto his legs. "have it your way."

"that's what I tho-"

"I'll just call mitsuki and she can give me your measurements." there was a slight pause after your claim settles into the air you three occupy.

"what?" he almost sounded like he didn't believe you. but oh how serious you are.

"go on, shoo." you walk back towards your main desk with your computer and grab your purse where you start digging around for your phone. "i have a phone call to make, so go somewhere else if you're not going to be useful. oh, eijirou you can stay though if you want."

"hey!" katsuki, pulling his arms off the back of the couch, both offended that he was being kicked out while his boyfriend got to stay and miffed because- were seriously going to call his mom? over his measurements? god, who knows what else could come out of that hag's mouth if you call her asking for that. the last thing he needed was you and his mother commenting on how small his waist was or worse.

you plant yourself in your desk chair and pull over a notepad and pen to write down the oncoming numbers you would be getting one way or the other. katsuki springs from the loveseat when he sees the phone line start dialing from across the room against your cheek.

the phone rings twice and you're ready to apologize for calling in the middle of the work day when she picks up, but before you could your phone was ripped from your hand and away from your cheek.

"wha- katsuki!" you utter in disbelief.

"ignore this," he huffs before hanging up the call and tossing your tape measure into your face.

"take your stupid ass measurements, but you don't get this back for a while." the blond tosses your phone over to kirishima who had been gleefully watching the free entertainment. the red head catches it easily and safely tucks it into his pocket.

"traitor," you send his way across the room and he just shrugs.

"sorry, boyfriend's orders."

"that's right," katsuki backs him up with his arms crossed and you return the sentiment by jabbing him in the side with the back of your pen. "now hurry up, this offer expires soon."

"i hate you," you groan as you get up and untangle your measuring tape to start the process of finally getting what you needed.

"no you don't."

"i wish i did."

"liar."

"shut up, im concentrating."

he hates to admit it, but the group of coordinating matching outfits you three all wear to the gala weeks later was totally worth pushing your buttons for. plus, it was cute to rile you up sometimes.

(mitsuki did call his cell later that day to explain why it's incredibly rude to hang up on his mother. he hung up on her again.)

#bakugou x reader #kirishima x reader #kiribaku x reader #kiribaku fluff #kiribaku x reader fluff #kiribaku x y/n #kiribaku x y/n fluff #bnha #boku no hero academia x reader #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n

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cryptidfuckery · 11 months

Text

Alex's Guide to Being the Best Ever Client at a Hair Salon

Hi my name is Alex and I've been a hairdresser for about 6 years now. Obviously over that time I've come to learn what things clients do that make me very happy to see, so here's some tips on how to be the best ever client and make your hairdresser love you to pieces!

Also please note that this is coming from a relatively independent hair stylist. My salon does not have a receptionist or assistants, just the stylists. All tips should work across most salons though.

BOOKING AND CONSULTATIONS

When calling or otherwise directly messaging a salon or stylist to book an appointment, KNOW WHEN YOU WANT TO COME IN. If you need to check your schedule, do it before or have it open before you make the call. This will speed up the booking process exponentially!

DON'T BOOK A SMALLER COLOR RPOCESS JUST TO GET IN. If you're booking online, do not choose a color process with less time just to fit in to the stylist's schedule if you actually want a longer process. By this i mean not booking a partial highlight when you actually want a full. We will not be able to accommodate you, and will either have to leave you with the shorter process or reschedule you on another day when we would actually have the time to deliver what you want.

UNDERSTAND THEIR CANCELLATION POLICY. I know they can be annoying, but let me put it this way. When you are booking with a stylist, you're not booking a service, you're booking our TIME so we can provide the service you want. If you cancel last minute or no-show, you are costing us money that we could have made back by booking other clients. Especially on big ticket services that take hours. Cancellation policies allow us to y'know... still make rent.

YOU DON'T NEED TO KNOW EXACTLY WHAT YOU WANT... BUT... Part of a stylist's job is to ask the right questions to figure out exactly what you want out of your color, style, or texture. If you don't know exactly what you want, BE READY TO ANSWER QUESTIONS AND MAKE DECISIONS. We are trying to get on the same page as you so you will leave happy.

If you are coming in for a color that is more work than just an all over color or root touch up (aka single process), please do a tiny bit of research into what you'd like. You don't need to know EVERYTHING, but for reference showing a search for "BRUNETTE WITH HIGHLIGHTS" isn't going to narrow it down as much as a search for "DARK BRUNETTE WITH NATURAL WARM HIGHLIGHTS" would. A good stylist should be able to ask the right questions to get down to what you want, but this will make it much easier and quicker.

On that note, DEAR FUCKING LORD WE LOVE PICTURES, SHOW US PICTURES. BRING US YOUR PINTREST BOARD. SHOW US THAT TIKTOK YOU SAW. It's one sure fire way for us to physically see what you're talking about, and a good starting point to then ask qualifying questions with a reference! It doesn't mean we can 100% make it happen, but it helps us get on the same page you're on and see what you're looking to achieve.

Last but not least, research your stylists! Check what they specialize in, see if you can find any of their work posted online. Finding a stylist can sometimes be like finding a therapist, you have to find the one that's right for you (both in personality and technique). Don't feel bad about switching stylists; if your old one kicks a fuss they weren't the right one for you anyway. You deserve to be taken care of by a person you're comfortable with, and who delivers the service you want to your standards.

The hair industry is. Fucking huge. There's so many of us. You can literally call and book a consultation for a cut or color without getting it done that day. You can do that at 5 different salons before deciding. If they get weird about it just say you had a bad experience with an old stylist that you'd rather not get into. There is always options for another stylist.

BEST BEHAVIOR IN THE CHAIR

#1 thing i wish i could tell my clients without being rude: phone goes away for the haircut. Color is more lax, we don't always need your head in a specific position to apply it. Hair cutting completely relies on the position of the head, especially for the perimeter length of your hair. If you are looking down at your phone the whole time, the haircut will not come out as good. We also will be asking you to move to other positions, so we need at least some of your attention. It's also so we as hair stylists aren't having to contort our body into weirder shapes to cut your hair.

To piggyback off that, it's also because of the cape. Best client thing to do is once that cape is on you, make sure it's draped fully over the arms of the chair you're in. We'll take care of the back. The cape is there to protect you from getting hair or color on yourself, but it can't work unless you are completely covered by the cape. Including arms. (I'm looking at the fucking phone again >:( )

When you are in the sink, your nose should be pointing toward the ceiling while you are being washed. This allows us to not drench your face or neck when we are washing your hairline around your face. If your nose isn't pointing toward the ceiling, ask if you are able to readjust.

Best ever tip for in the sink: if the stylist is lifting your head up to rinse the nape of your neck, do not lift your whole neck. Crane your head forward while keeping the base of your neck secure to the sink. This will help you avoid getting water down your back. Your stylist might cup their hand at your nape, just lean back into it like you were a rag doll. We don't want to get you wet, but you gotta trust us with your head at the sink.

If you wanna get an A+ as a client, watch how they fix the chair at the sink for you to get in. The clients that put their own feet up or adjust themself to the right position (after an appointment or two with them) are my loves. my life. yes babe make yourself comfortable, you're doin my job for me.

If you are looking for extra styling past a blowdry (IE: curling iron or flat iron), let us know at the beginning of the service. This can take more time or is an extra charge, so letting us know in advance can allow us to communicate that to you or make sure we have the time to provide the service you want.

And probably my best tip/hack for all my introverted or neurodivergent people nervous about having to keep up small talk. Before or after the consultation, when they inevitably ask how you are or how your day has been, repeat after me: "I've had a really long day/week and I'm looking forward to closing my eyes, relaxing, and being pampered." This will signify that YOU DON'T WANT TO TALK other than what needs to be communicated. If they press, just say work or school has been really hard and stressing you out, so you booked this to relax and have some personal quiet time. Heavy on the relax people. Then just fuckin vibe bro.

If we ever give you our number to text, ask if we cant coffee. Ouughhghgh give us a coffe we love a fucking coffefee. Or ask your stylist what their favorite treat is. Just lil things like that. It's like an extra tip for us!

FINISHING AND PAYING

So your service is done! Make sure you check it out yourself and ask for any adjustments. Remember, you're the one leaving with your hair on your head, and will have to live with it until you return to the salon. If you need something fixed or adjusted, ask! A good stylist will prompt you.

Ask how tips are accepted. You can do it during the service or at checkout, but asking is always appreciated! Not all salons allow you to tip on card, but cash will never be turned away. Venmo is also extremely common.

I work in the USA where a 20% tip is the norm. If you can't afford that, don't worry. If you can't tip at all, don't worry. We don't know you financial situation, and we are in no place to judge that. You still deserve to get the service you want. More often than not if you talk to us about it, we will absolutely be sympathetic. If your stylist kicks a fuss about a tip they get (or don't get), drop them and find someone else.

That being said... yes we like it when you tip more than 20%. Of course we do, it's more money directly to us for doing our job. But I'll be honest with you, I will go out of my way for a kind client i get along with that tips 5% the same way I'll go out of my way for a difficult client who tips 100%.

If you like us, rebook! By having an appointment already in the system you're guaranteeing a time for you to get back in. And if you can't make it, you can cancel it or reschedule. It will help your stylist's rebooking data, which can help them within the salon depending how the business is set up. Sometimes stylists have to reach a certain percentage threshold of rebooking to move up a level of prices or get a higher percentage of commission.

Last but not least, if you're chatting with your stylist after the service, be aware of two things. 1) do they have their next client waiting for them? 2) are you their last client? If either of these are true, try not to linger. We hate having to do the "Well, I've gotta get to my next client/start cleaning up to go home." This can change as you form a deeper relationship with your stylist over the years (sometimes even a friendship!), but please remember that we are at our job.

As of right now that's all I can think of. If I come up with anything else I'll reblog and add on. And please feel free to shoot me an ask if you have a question I didn't answer here, or want to know more about something I mentioned.

But finally I will leave you with this.

Yes, the hair stylist is the expert in hair. Yes, we can give you advice about your style. But here's the thing. When you walk out of the salon door, we aren't the one's dealing with your hair day to day. Even if you don't think you know a lot about hair, YOU ARE THE EXPERT ON THE HAIR ON YOUR HEAD. YOU are the expert on what you do and don't want to look like. We're the tool to get it done. Remember that!

#mmmm been a while since i made a long ass fucking post like this #hope yall like #please ask clarifying questions if you need it!#also yes this is long as fuck #i am nearly incapable of doing anything else when it comes to shit like this #also i barely proofread it so like. idk. good luck

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dovahkinniez · 6 months

Text

` 𖤓 . . . LUCIEN FLAVIUS.

HEY HEY. This did originally come from a request, which I accidentally deleted ... Like an idiot. BUT HERE IT IS. Anyway, this is a different layout, only slightly. And I'm trying to find spaces to enjoy writing again as I've been burnt out for a while due to work. If there are any mistakes, tell me or simply turn a blind eye. 🖤

Lucien is a respectful man, and he almost (dramatically) passed out from stress when they said there was only one room available.

What made it worse? You were to sleep there for two nights, and it wasn't like you could find elsewhere to sleep, you were both in the middle of the cold and harsh winters of Skyrim.

If he weren't pale from the cold before, he definitely was after hearing about the ever so unfortunate circumstances.

But you were so ... Calm?

Any normal person would find comfort in that, but it actually scared Lucien even more.

Because ... Why are you so okay with it?! Can't you see the life altering situation at hand here?!

But as you took off to your room, he followed behind with his eyes tired and mind worrying for the next two nights ahead.

'I will sleep on the floor.' — you laughed at his words as you flopped onto the gigantic bed, fit for three people. He watched, twiddling his thumbs awkwardly.

Lucien slowly sat on the end of the bed, clearly tired and cold, but alert from the feeling of sudden intrusion as you lay onto your side of the bed, "It's not that bad, Luci. We are friends, not strangers." You shrugged, unbothered. He was still slightly baffled by your lack of shock and issue with this, but you simply saw it as a difference in culture and upbringing. He grew up pampered with big beds to himself, and everything was handed on a silver platter at his beck and call. You doubted he'd ever slept beside anybody before, never mind a friend, and you knew he wasn't exactly experienced in the art of sex and romance.

The first night was ... Awkward.

— the first night.

After some time, he built a pillow wall between the two of you. Which, by the way, made you laugh. His dramatic actions caused only humour in you, so much that it warmed your cold body up from the long and harsh journey throughout the day. So instead of bringing him back down to Earth, you allowed him to fuss over nonsense for the pure entertainment value. You already knew that Lucien had a wicked dramatic streak, but the pillow incident really set it in stone.

— the second night.

The next hours to come consisted of laying in the dark with Lucien, eyes on the black ceiling with only little thought as you heard Lucien's breathing, which indicated he was still wide awake. "Can't sleep?" You asked after moments of silence, he moved his body, clearly uncomfortable. "No ... I am sorry if I have intruded." You giggled, then you heard him sigh softly. "It's not awkward, Lucien. You're making it awkward." He sighed once more before what sounded like was turning his body on the other side. "Very well. Goodnight, Y/N." "Goodnight, Lucien."

The day went smoothly and Lucien's unneeded awkwardness has finally dissolved. By the second night, he was fine. Taking the pillow wall down, he lay in bed, shivering from the cold outside. "I told you not to wash in the lake." You grumbled, feeling the cold radiate from his skin under the sheets where you silently wished he had kept the pillows up. But instead you moved closer, taking his cold body beside yours with tangled limbs, your skin grew prickly with temperature shock as he froze, not from the cold, but from the sudden touch. "Breathe, Lucien. I'm trying to heat you up." He only nodded, reluctantly wrapping his arms around yours, his face pushed into your neck with deep breaths as you rubbed his back and entangled your limbs with his.

After sometime, his body calmed into a peaceful warmth between the two of you. His hands gently stroked the exposed skin of your back as yours played with the tangled golden hair atop his head, forehead touching with silent affection. He had never experienced anything like it before, and he doubted he would ever again; he questioned himself if you had ever felt like this before ... Somehow, the possibility caused a nasty feeling in his chest ... Was it jealousy?

All in all, it created a positive memory.

Lucien also realised that night that he may harbour some unknown feelings for you.

#skyrim x reader #elder scrolls x reader #skyrim headcanon #skyrim scenarios #skyrim x dovahkiin #elder scrolls skyrim #elder scrolls #skyrim #lucien flavius x reader #lucien flavius

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anadiasmount · 9 months

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Hi can you do a husband christian pulisic writing where the reader is his wife and she goes to the Real Madrid vs AC Milan game at the Rose Bowl to support him and brings her and Christian kids or the reader can be expecting.

all for you - christian pulisic x reader.

summary: request above!

wc: 1,2k

hiii!! sorry if this is a bit short but here you go!!

masterlist

“Okay, Tobias. We have to get ready for Daddy’s game! You want to go right? I know dada wants you there,” you said excitedly, only watching your three-year-old smile grow wider as he jumped up and down. “Yes, Mommy! Please I want to see Dad. I miss him,” he expressed, hugging your left leg tightly. You ruffled his curls and picked him up, and him immediately hiding in the crook of your neck.

“I know baby, me too! So let’s hurry so we can go see him, and wish him the best of luck okay? Remember how I told you we had to move for daddy’s work?” you whispered bringing your hand and dragging it up and down gently across his back, feeling as he nodded when you asked the question. “Well, today we're going to see how he works okay! We need to be there for him, cheer him on, and support him and his new club.

Tobies nodded again and whispered some words of encouragement for Christian. Tobias absolutely adored his dad. Always wanting to be like him from day one. He always appreciated him when he was at home, there to comfort him after a long game or just a bad day. All the cuddles, kisses, hugs, playing in the yard with a football, going out to parks where it was private and quiet.

You appreciated the big and small moments as well. Christian loved you more than his life,, you and his son were the things that kept him living. His happiness around you mostly, as you taught him how to love himself and you. He couldn't be more grateful to have a stunning and supportive wife from day one. You never asked for a lot, but he always made sure to make you feel like you were his queen.

After bathing and changing Tobias, you set him down for his nap. Him quickly falling asleep after the long day of traveling the day before. You had so much time to get ready and plan the awaited surprise for him. You talked with him about kids, so much you were sure he was ready for this second baby. Maybe the timing was or wasn't right, but Christian is the happiest father. And you were sure he would be the happiest man alive once you told him

The US heat was always extreme, so you put your hair up in a slick back bun, taking a few pieces of hair from the sides to give it a messy look, you makeup natural as you weren't going to waste expensive products just for it to sweat off. You changed into the new AC Milan white jersey, paired with a pair of denim ripped shorts and some sneakers you loved to wear on a casual day out.

You packed your purse, along with some snacks and drinks for Tobias, knowing hell get cranky if he doesn't have them… just like his father… After making sure nothing valuable was left out, you headed downstairs to meet up with his family and some of the other wags. His mom immediately held you into a hug, super excited to have you once back in the States. His dad followed after with a polite greeting, spreading a few jokes that made you laugh.

The stadium was packed, you didn't expect it to be like this but it made you feel happy at the amount of support for both teams. Christian had a history with Madrid, the goods like beating them into the UCL final, but also when they lost terribly. You were sure he would leave his mark like he always did.

You took a seat next to his sister and mom, quickly getting into a conversation and sharing a few laughs. The game shortly started after, your gaze immediately landing on your husband, who looked too good to be true. His messy wet curls, the tattoos you loved so much, the jersey clinging onto dear life. Just as you knew, he quickly helped the team advance to the first two goals of the game, watching as he cheered and celebrated with them.

Just as you least expected it, the game resulted in a loss, after a player from Madrid scored twice, and then finally made it 3-2 lost. Sure it may have been a friendly and just for pre-season but you knew Christian would be upset, he always wanted to win no matter what. It was the trait you and he had in common, being competitive. Tobias was happy either way, wanting to just hug him and tell him he was proud. Your baby boy.

You walked down to the fields where he was looking around for you. You told him earlier you didn't feel good, so he began to get scared when you didn't show up with his family. He indulged them with hugs, and you sneakily stood back as his gaze kept wandering for you. You even heard him say, “Where Y/n? Did she come?” which made you laugh and give in. His eyes lit up at you and his son, who were behind him for the whole time.

He picked Tobias up, feeling as the small boy cuddle into him, “Hi Toby, what did you think of the game?” He quickly conversed, hearing his son let out his opinions of the game and even how he played. Smart just like him. He placed him on his hip and grabbed your face gently giving you a kiss. He rested his forehead against yours, already feeling your comfort. “How are you feeling?” you asked.

“I feel great. I don't as much for the loss, but knowing I helped the team contribute to goals is an amazing feeling,” he said hugging your waist as you walked around the field together, thanking fans. It's the only time you were public as a family, enjoying the privacy a bit more. “I’m happy for you baby. You’re going have to score more goals for the three of us now,” you said with a smirk, slowly revealing the surprise pregnancy.

Christian completely stopped and looked at you with wide eyes. “Three of us? What do you mean?” he asked, kind of already knowing the answer. “It means that, by next year, you’ll have another baby cheering you on from wherever you are,” you said. He sat Tobias down, who quickly went on to play with a football nearby. “There’s no way… We’re going to have another baby?” he asked holding your face with both hands. All you could do with nod before he picked you up and spun you around.

He laughed and set you down, quickly kissing you, over and over again. “Christian! Okay, I get it, baby,” you giggled, gripping his biceps. “I'm sorry but I just love you so much! Thank you Y/n. For making me and Tobias the luckiest people alive. This small family we both created is all ive wanted, and thanks to you. I am able to be the person I am,” Christian admitted, making your pregnancy hormones go crazy, letting a few tears out. You hugged him tight, kissing his jaw and neck, wanting him to feel the love back. “You’re welcome, Christian.”

“Daddy! And Mommy! I want a baby sister!”

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic blurb #christian pulisic one shot #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic x you

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navybrat817 · 1 year

Text

Spoils of War

Pairing: Gladiator!Steve Rogers x Female Reader, mention of Dark Advisor!Andy Barber x Female Reader Summary: Steve gets a reward for a job well done and wishes he could have been with you under different circumstances. Word Count: Over 3k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, Noncon references (do NOT read if this upsets you), Dubcon elements (reader consents with Steve), vaginal unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), possessive behavior, dirty talk, talks of violence, captivity, servitude, dark themes, Steve Rogers (he's a warning, okay?) A/N: Here we go with The Arena! Please heed the warnings with each post for this AU as there will be dark elements throughout. Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Banner and moodboard by yours truly. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Steve Rogers believed in doing the right thing. Even as a young boy, he didn't allow his small size to let bullies push him, or others, around. As long as he could get up, he would fight. He carried that idealism throughout his life. It was why he chose to work with S.H.I.E.L.D..

But he no longer fought for the greater good.

The cheers from the arena rang in his ears as he closed his eyes, the water from the showerhead washing the blood and grime away. It wouldn't take away the guilt that ate at his soul. He was meant to save people, not take their lives away. How was he reduced to being a puppet for the demented masses?

One day, he would be free.

Today, he would savor the spoils of war.

"You've done well, Captain Rogers. A prize is long overdue."

Steve dried off moments later and kept a towel around his waist as he waited for you. He didn't have to wait much longer. The cell door opened long enough to shove you inside, anger boiling in his gut when you almost fell to your knees.

"Break her and Barber will kill you," the guard threatened.

Andy Barber. His former colleague. Your master.

"Should I tell him you nearly made her fall on her face or do you want to do that yourself?"

The guard didn't respond, but had the decency to look afraid before he slammed the door and left the two of you alone.

Steve watched as you straightened up and carefully glanced around the room. The cell HYDRA kept him in was comfortable enough. A small bathroom, a nice bed, and a desk so he could draw. Charcoal only, as they didn't allow him to have anything he could use to harm them. They also refused to let him have a cell near Bucky, afraid they would conspire against the guards and break free.

Even if he did have a weapon with him, he wouldn't use it on you.

His prize.

"Would you like to sit down?" he asked, bringing your gaze toward him.

This was the first time he had seen up close since the day everything went to hell. You were still beautiful, but there was sorrow in your eyes that hadn't been there before. The lacy red and black lingerie set did little to cover you, so different from the office clothes he typically saw you in. He wondered if you shivered slightly from the cold or fear.

"Yes. Thank you, Captain," you answered, offering him a small smile as you made your way to the foot of the bed.

You still had the same smile.

"Don't call me that," he said harsher than he intended to. "I'm not your Captain anymore."

He failed as Captain America. HYDRA captured you, Bucky, and countless others because he hadn't taken them down. It seemed like they only referred to him by his title to taunt him. Was he ever worthy of the shield?

Your smile slipped away as you sat down and lowered your gaze. "I'm sorry, sir."

Steve immediately wanted to pull you into his arms and apologize. You weren't in his cell for more than two minutes and he took his frustration out on you. He hadn't meant to.

"You don't need to apologize. I'm sorry for taking that tone with you. Steve or sir are both fine, sweetheart," he said, his towel slipping further down his hips as he walked toward you. "Or would you prefer I call you by your name?"

"You can call me whatever you want."

The words sounded rehearsed.

You looked up at him when his warm hand cradled your jaw, surprising him when you didn't recoil. He wondered what you saw as you looked into his eyes. A murderer? A monster?

"Why did you ask for me?" you asked.

"Because I was told I could have a reward for a job well done," he told you.

You narrowed your eyes. "Why me specifically?"

Rewards were typically in the form of a mistress since fighters couldn't ask for their freedom, or challenge anyone in charge to a battle. Mistresses were usually sent from the harem and not taken directly from one of the advisors or generals. It was only natural that you'd ask why.

"You belong to Andy Barber," he stated to gauge your reaction.

You flinched, your eyes flashing with something akin to offense and fury, but you didn't pull free from Steve's grasp. From what he gathered, you weren't a willing mistress to Andy. You knelt beside him at every match he could remember and never said a word. Advisors and Generals loved to show off their possessions. Requesting you as his prize for doing such a good job in the arena pissed Andy off, but he couldn't deny him.

A pet having power or sway over a master isn't allowed.

But unlike Andy, Steve's intentions weren't to harm or force himself on you.

If he thought for a moment that you were a willing participant in this, your reaction told him otherwise. "I don't belong to anyone."

"I wasn't trying to offend you," he promised, keeping his hand on you as he took a seat beside you. "How does he treat you?"

You hesitated before you answered. "Sometimes he fucks me like he loves me."

He ran a thumb across your cheek when a tear fell from your eye, rage surging through his veins. Even though you didn't bear any physical scars like him and the other fighters, you no doubt had wounds on the inside. Forced into sexual servitude would be enough to hurt the strongest of people. But the flicker of fire in your eyes, you still had some fight in you. It comforted him that they didn't break you.

"Did he do something to you? Is this some sort of payback?" you guessed.

"He did, but I didn't ask for you to get back at him," he said.

He wouldn't have asked for Andy's mistress if it was anyone other than you.

"I don't know why you're asking how he treats me. At the end of the day, I'm just his whore," you said, eying him warily. "And tonight, I'm yours."

He shook his head, bringing his other hand up to cup both cheeks. "You're not a whore."

He wished you could be his girl.

Maybe in another life.

"Then I don't understand why I'm here if you're not going to use me," you said, confusion filling your beautiful eyes. "I'm nobody."

"You worked on the 3rd floor," he said, tracing his finger along your bra strap when you gasped. "You had a cardigan on the back of your chair and the background on your computer matched whatever season we were in. You kept to yourself, but offered a small, kind smile whenever someone looked your way or jumped in to help without anyone asking. You were vital to S.H.I.E.L.D. and you're far from being a nobody."

You moved an inch closer and his gaze fell to your lips. "You knew me?" you asked in disbelief as he nodded. "I-I never thought anyone as high up as you would've noticed me."

"Of course, I did. I was just too stupid to say anything then," he replied, smiling sadly when he wiped another tear away.

Would it have made this situation better? Worse? Dwelling on "what if" would do more harm than good.

“So, you asked for me because you wanted to see me? You care?”

He let out a breath as he nodded. “I had to see for myself that you’re okay. Well, as okay as you can be given the circumstances,” he said.

There were so many things he wanted to say. That he was sorry a man like Andy ever got his hands on you. That he didn’t want you to give up hope. Why wouldn’t the words come out?

"I didn't think anyone cared," you said, lightly tracing a tiny scar on his arm. Something in your expression shifted from uncertainty to seductive as you leaned in closer. "But that shouldn't surprise me. You're a good man."

He placed a hand on your lips to stop you before you kissed him. Yes, he asked for you to be here, but he didn't want you to feel forced to do this. “No, sweetheart. I’m not going to use you.”

The point of his confession, or whatever he could call it, wasn't to make you give in to him. He needed you to know you did mean something to someone. You weren't alone in this.

“Is it using me if I’m offering?” you countered when he lowered his hand, giving you the chance to lean in to pepper his jaw with soft kisses. He didn’t stop you this time. “Unless you don’t want me.”

Steve wanted you. God, he wanted you, but he wouldn’t take from you the way Andy did. Even when you placed a hand on his thigh, your touch light and heavenly, he had to resist. HYDRA reduced him to a killer, he refused to sink any lower.

“I know you won’t hurt me,” you said, leaning back and reaching behind you to unhook your bra. He didn’t mean to groan when you took it off, but your breasts on display had his heart pounding against his ribs. Your nipples were hard and he hadn’t even properly touched you. “Like I said, you're a good man.”

Steve’s hands fell to your hips when you straddled him, his cock twitching beneath the towel. Was it wrong to give in if you wanted it? But did you actually want him? Were you acting on instinct? Orders?

“How am I a good man if I’m taking advantage of you?” he tried to argue when you pushed your hips down.

“You aren’t. You're giving me a choice and I'm choosing to give myself to you,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I want to forget even if it’s just for tonight.”

He wanted to forget, too. He didn’t want to see the blood that stained his shield or the life leaving the eyes of the bodies that fell. What he wouldn’t give to have a beer with Bucky after a mission gone well. Or take you out on a proper date.

“I’m your prize, Steve. So take it.”

The last shred of hesitation inside him snapped when he fastened his lips against yours. You went pliant against him, opening your mouth for him to take what he wanted. It wasn’t how he wanted your first kiss with him to be, but it made him dizzy nonetheless.

He didn’t break the kiss as he rolled you over, spreading you out on your back to slide in between your thighs. He swallowed down the small sound you made before he gave you both a chance to catch your breath. The sight of you gazing up at him made him lose his breath again.

“Please,” you whispered, shuddering as he moved his calloused hands up your legs.

He heard people beg before, but not like this. You would be his salvation. He hoped he could be yours, too.

Torn between kissing up your thighs or diving right in, he decided to dip a hand between your legs. You shivered again as he pressed his palm against the damp, flimsy fabric. “You’re wet,” he said in awe, gripping the underwear and tearing it away.

Your back arched, sending a shiver down his spine when he saw your eyes glaze over with lust. “For you, Steve.”

For him.

The slide of his first finger made him close his eyes. You were tight and warm and the clench around the digit alone was enough to make his cock twitch. He wondered if you ever got this wet for Andy. Did he prep you? Make you come?

“I’m supposed to take care of you,” you whined when he pushed another finger in.

“Are you my prize, sweetheart?” he asked, spreading and sliding his fingers in and out. He brought his other hand up to your breasts, not wanting to neglect them as he toyed with your pussy. "Are you giving yourself to me?"

“Yes,” you said breathlessly when he pinched a hardened bud, your walls tightening more by the time he added a third finger. “I am.”

“Then let me handle you as I see fit,” the slight command that came out was reminiscent of his days of being a Captain, the very thing he told you not to call him.

“Yes, Sir,” you whimpered, arching your back again when he removed his fingers.

He brought them to his mouth and licked each of them clean, savoring the sweet and tangy flavor of you on his tongue. If he was a better man, he’d take more time with you. Worship every inch of you until you sobbed and begged for more. Later, he’d indulge until all he knew was your taste. Your first orgasm though, he wanted on his cock.

He had to be inside you now.

You blinked and smiled as if you sensed his need. “I’m ready.”

Steve gripped the base of his cock as he settled between your legs. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine you were in his home. He refused to do so. This was the reality you were in and he had to make the most of it.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, silencing you with a kiss when you opened your mouth.

You gasped as he lined up with your entrance and slowly slid in. He almost stopped halfway through when you clenched hard around him, but his kisses relaxed you enough to let him in. He never felt anything as good as you and was sure he never would again. He was afraid he’d become addicted.

“I’m sorry, too,” you whispered back, sending shivers down his spine when you ran your fingers through his beard. “But it’s okay.”

He began to thrust, unable to take the tenderness in your eyes. In another life, he would’ve been worthy of that gaze and comfort. Now it was survival of the fittest.

“I won’t break,” you moaned, allowing him to take your wrists and pin them over your head. “You can fuck me how you need to.”

“What was it you said?” he asked, driving deeper into you to make you moan louder. “He fucks you like he loves you?”

You choked on your breath when you gazed up at him with fear in your eyes. You blinked it away before he could dwell on it. “Sometimes.”

“You haven’t been fucked by me before,” he grunted, taking your leg to wrap around his hip. “When I send him back to you, you’ll be dripping with me. He'll know you'll never truly be his."

A loud moan escaped when his grip on your wrists tightened, your hips rising to meet his thrusts as he fucked into you. It was easier than he thought to forget the horrors when he was buried inside you. What would he have to do to keep you for more than a night?

You squirmed when he slid his hand between your bodies and sought out your bundle of nerves. “You said you don’t belong to anyone, but here with me, you’re mine,” he said, circling your clit with his thumb. The whine he got in response was otherworldly. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” you moaned, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes.

He wanted to believe it.

“Again,” he gritted. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours. I’m yours!”

Your eyes widened when you quivered around him, a gush of wetness flowing around his cock as you cried out. The orgasm seemed to take you by surprise, but he kept up his pace to ride it out. He hoped it would be the first of many. Your face twisted in pleasure was almost enough to send him over the edge.

“Please, Steve,” you moaned brokenly, lying bonelessly beneath him as he buried his face in your neck.

Steve couldn’t resist when you begged so beautifully, letting out a broken sound of his own as he spilled into you. The release had him panting against your skin as finished, trying to remember the last time he experienced ecstasy like that. He desperately tried to hang on, not wanting it to end for either of you.

He pushed himself up to look at you, but didn't pull out, a sense of pride filling him at your fucked out expression. Releasing your wrists, he brought your hands up to wrap around him. He wasn’t expecting to need the comforting touch, but he had to feel your hands on him after what you shared.

Silence stretched on as snuggled close and he thought for a moment that you drifted off when you stayed quiet.

“I don’t want to send you back in the morning,” he admitted, tilting your chin so you'd look at him.

You quietly sniffled as you turned away. “I don’t either, but you have to. Andy is furious enough as it is."

He pulled you in for a hug when you trembled. He wanted to choke the life out of Andy himself. Maybe HYDRA had made him a monster.

“Maybe you can't stay here permanently, but I’ll ask for you again after my next match. I promise.”

He didn’t want you around Andy longer than you had to be.

“So, we meet up after your fights and allow ourselves to keep forgetting? You go back into the fight and I go back to the Advisor quarters?” you asked, your eyes shining as he let you rest against the mattress.

He tilted his head as he studied your face. The blissful expression had determination underneath. Both of you wanted to get out of here, like everyone else. With your position, maybe you could use it to your, and his, advantage.

“I’m a fighter. You’re the mistress of an advisor. I’m sure we can forget and find other uses for our time together,” he said carefully, in case he was reading you incorrectly. “What do you say?”

The smile you gave him was hopeful. “I'm in."

Oh, you don't think it'll be that easy, do you? Not if Andy has his way. 😏 Love and thanks! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #gladiator!steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers au #gladiator!steve rogers #the arena #chris evans x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x you

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void-wolfie · 10 months

Text

family ties

summary: you decide it's finally come out to your parents.

pairing: Jenna Ortega x fem!Reader

tw: homophobia/biphobia, angst

words: 2.26k

a/n: it's my birthday, yay! here is a slightly birthday-themed post. this one hits me a bit hard but mostly because it largely stems from my own insecurities. anyways, y'all love your angst, so I figured I would supply.

*I am not paying for y'alls therapy, reader discretion is advised

You sat in your car outside the small two-story house. Its brown walls and open windows seemed to mock you, tall and daunting. Of course, it wasn’t the house that set your nerves on edge, your anxiety growing the longer you sat, it was what lay inside. Your parents.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Jenna asked, watching you worriedly from the passenger seat.

No. You didn’t want to do this. You’d rather go back home and binge-watch TV with Jenna for the rest of the night. But what would life be if not for making hard choices?

“Not really. But I need to.” You grimaced, thinking about what horrors the night might bring.

“I’ll be right here the whole time,” Jenna interlocked your fingers with hers, doing her best to reassure you.

“Thank you, baby,” You brought her hand to your lips, kissing the back of her knuckles.

You knocked on the front door, pushing it open without waiting for anyone to answer it. It was your childhood home after all, and you knew your parents wouldn’t mind.

“Mom? Dad?” You stepped into the hallway, Jenna following just behind you.

“y/n?” Your mom appeared from around the corner, your dad just a few steps behind her.

“How are you, baby?” She held out her arms for a hug, which you fell into.

“I’m alright,”

“Good! Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

“Thanks, Mom,”

She finally let you go, her eyes catching Jenna standing just over your shoulder. “Jenna, darling, so good to see you again!”

You let the two of them do their thing while you greeted your dad.

He pulled you in for a hug, patting you on the back, "Happy birthday, kiddo,"

"Thanks, Dad,"

Your dad was more on the quiet side, unlike your mom who was very much a social butterfly. He was usually the more relaxed one, which you often found comfort in.

The sound of conversation mixed with that of clinking silverware. Dinner had been served and everyone was catching up. Your parents were currently talking off your girlfriend’s ear, interrogating her on her up-and-coming projects.

But you weren't paying them any attention. Your eyes were dead set on the table, lost in your own world of thoughts. Would they be mad? Disappointed? Upset? Of course, they would be upset, this was going against everything they believed in... Would they call you names, or just shun you altogether? Would they throw you out? Cut you off? Not that you relied on them much anymore financially, but still, they were your parents...

"Earth to y/n, hello?" Your name being called brought you back from your spiraling thoughts. You looked up to find everyone looking in your direction. Jenna was shooting you a worried look, her hand intertwining with yours underneath the table.

"Oh, sorry," you apologized, hoping to brush off the awkwardness that clung to the air.

"Where'd you go, kiddo? We lost ya there for a second," your dad said with a chuckle, taking another bite of his food.

"Just thinking," you squeezed Jenna's hand, hoping your parents wouldn't notice how anxious you were. Your knee was bouncing up and down under the table, you nearly felt sick from all the worrying.

"Thinking about what?" Your mom asked.

Of course, she wanted to know. Ever so the nosy one, always needing to be in everyone's business.

"Um," should you tell them now? You looked at Jenna, wishing you could read her mind and know what she was thinking, but she only looked at you with that same curious glance.

Fuck it. What do you have to lose... besides everything... "Actually, I- um. There's something I want to tell you both..."

You could practically feel the blood pumping through your veins, your hands shaking violently under the table. Your heart felt like it might burst from how fast it was beating. It's now or never...

"Okay?" Your parents exchanged curious glances, the two of them wondering what could possibly be so important to have you acting so oddly.

Fuck. Where to start? What to say? Your mind was reeling. Everything felt like it was too much. But you had to do this, you couldn't avoid it forever.

You took a deep breath in an attempt to calm your nerves, but that didn't stop the words from rushing out of your mouth, "Jenna and I are dating. We've been in a relationship for two years now."

The room was dead silent. The only noise coming from the rain outside and the air conditioner quietly whirring in the background.

Both you and Jenna were eyeing your parents, waiting for some kind of reaction.

"What?"

Both your parents wore blank expressions. You almost wished they weren't, that they'd have some kind of emotion on their face, that way you could tell if they were upset or not. But a blank face was debatably better than an angry one.

"I'm dating Jenna." You said it again, not nearly as fast this time and with a little more confidence.

More silence. It hung in the air like a thick smog, suffocating you as it squeezed the breath from your lungs. The longer you had to wait the less you could sit still, nearly shaking in your chair out of anticipation.

"Is this a joke?" Your mom’s voice held a dangerous tone, one you'd learned meant trouble over the years.

"No." You made sure to keep your voice flat, hiding how you truly felt inside.

You knew what was coming. Despite your hopes that they might actually care, that they might actually love you, you knew the truth. Your parents would never accept someone like you as their daughter. You would've been better off if you'd told them you were a murderer.

"Get out." Your mother refused to meet your eyes, staring down at her plate instead. She had said it quietly and calmly, but you could see past that cool exterior, you could see the storm raging inside. She was furious.

"What?" Jenna spoke up, looking between your mother and father.

She couldn’t believe it. Your parents had always been so welcoming, so warm to her. You had always acted like such a happy family, and she was just going to kick you out?

Your mom’s eyes snapped up, glaring daggers at Jenna, "I said. Get. Out."

You could feel the tension in the air, thick as it filled up the room. Time to go.

"Come on, Jenna." You stood up, hoping you could pull Jenna from the house before things got too ugly, "If they don't love me for me, that's fine."

You noticed your father wince at the comment, his gaze dropping to the ground. Part of you wondered if he shared your mother's beliefs, if he hated you as well. He has always been the more levelheaded one, maybe there was hope for him.

"No." Jenna stood up, her eyes were still trained on your mother with a fury like you'd never seen before.

"Jenna, don't." You tried to stop her, but you could tell from the determined look on her face she didn't care.

"Are you really that shallow? You'll shun your daughter completely, all because of who she loves?"

"I'll not have a daughter who's a-"

"Who's a what? Say it," Jenna was challenging her now, daring her to say that forbidden word.

"You're a disgrace, you know that?" Your moms’ eyes darted over to you, "It's a sin and you're going to hell."

You scoffed, trying to act strong despite the tears in your eyes and the ache in your chest, "that’s fine, as long as I don't have to hear your bigoted comments for the rest of eternity."

Your mom shot up from the table, her chair sliding backward across the tile. Despite the look of rage, her eyes were watering as well, "How could you do this to me? To us?!"

"Do this to you...? Do you really think I started dating her because I wanted to hurt you?" Your vision was blurred from the tears silently streaming down your face. Your hands clenched as you tried to bottle up your rampant emotions. Everything was going to shit.

"Are you? Because from here, that's exactly what it looks like-"

"No! I would never try and hurt you. You told me to find someone that makes me happy, she makes me happy!"

"I said go find a nice boy to make you happy! Not to go practice sacrilege!”

"Are you insane? Do you even hear yourself?" Jenna jumped in, standing in front of you protectively.

You pulled Jenna back beside you, taking a step closer to your mother, "Let me spell it out for you. I'm bisexual. It's not something I can choose. It's who I am, it's in my DNA. I love Jenna and that's not changing any time soon. And I love you, you’re my mom, you raised me and cared for me, and taught me everything I know. But a real mother wouldn't disown me for being me."

It all happened so fast. Before you even knew what was happening you were on the floor, a red handprint staining your cheek.

You were in shock. Your hand cupping the forming red mark. She slapped you. She actually slapped you...

When you finally focused back on the situation, Jenna was kneeling in front of you. Her eyes were swimming with so many different emotions, but you couldn't miss her little concerned pout. You melted into her hands, how they cupped your face so gently as she examined the mark.

At the flip of a switch, her face contorted. What once was full of worry and concern had been taken over by hate and rage. It scared you.

Jenna spun around, wildly flinging insults at your mother. A shouting match had started, but you weren’t listening. All you could see was the image of your mother slapping you, repeating in your head over and over. Her face was full of so much hate and anger. How could someone who was supposed to love you do something so horrid?

You stood up, shaking off the shock and your spiraling thoughts.

“We’re leaving.” You stated simply, interrupting their screaming. You grabbed Jenna’s hand, lacing your fingers together as you pulled her towards the door with you.

You stood in the doorway, a nagging feeling sitting in the pit of your gut. You had more you wanted to say, but should you? Your mother made it more than clear she wasn’t willing to listen, that she was more than fine abandoning you.

You pushed yourself out the door without another word, walking through the rain. You handed Jenna the car keys, silently asking her to drive home. She took them without saying anything, understanding what you were asking.

Neither you nor Jenna said anything as you got into the car, the two of you still comprehending the nightmare that had just happened.

"Please take me home," you asked softly, ignoring the tears falling down your face.

You had been in the shower for over an hour now. It wasn’t abnormal for you to take long showers, but never this long. Jenna was worried.

The warm water had long since turned cold, leaving you shivering on the tile floor. Your head was buried in your arms, your knees pulled up to your chest. The sound of the water running effectively drowning out the sounds of your sobs.

You were heartbroken.

Your whole life there was this belief that your family would love you no matter what, that they would accept you for who you were. It’s still true, but after the scene at your parent’s house… your idea of family had been fundamentally shifted. Your parents weren’t your family anymore.

There was a knock on the bathroom door, “You alright in there, baby?” Jenna’s voice echoed throughout the bathroom.

You took a deep breath, trying to stop the crying, “Fine. I’ll be out in a minute.”

Your voice came out shaky and hoarse. Jenna could tell you’d been crying from the other side of the door; if your voice hadn’t given it away the sound of you sobbing when she opened the door would have been.

Jenna wanted nothing more than to hug you tight, kiss your forehead and wipe away the tears. But she knew you needed some space. She closed the bathroom door and waited back on your bed, her patience wearing thin as worry settled in.

The minute you were out of the shower and done changing, you could see it. You looked like a mess. Bloodshot eyes stared back at you in the mirror. Your nose and cheeks were red from all the crying. Your chest ached and your throat felt like it was on fire.

The second you were out of the bathroom Jenna was already staring at you. The way you looked so hurt, eyes bloodshot and shoulders slumped, it broke her heart. You deserved better.

You didn’t say anything, just walking up to her silently and falling into her arms. You were fresh out of tears, with nothing left to give. You just wanted the pain to go away.

Jenna pulled you onto the bed with her, letting you cuddle up into her arms. It wasn’t long before you were asleep, the exhaustion from the day having worn you out. Jenna held you a little bit tighter against her chest before falling asleep herself. She silently hoped that you knew, even if your parents didn’t, she loved you more than she would ever be able to articulate.

#jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x gn!reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #void-wolfie

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wheels-of-despair · 7 months

Text

Let Me Take Care Of You Pairing: Billy Knight x You Summary: Billy isn't used to being taken care of, but you're going to make him get that way, whether he likes it or not. Contains: A cold, a stubborn boy getting the love and comfort he deserves, a childhood flashback that might make you cry. Word Count: 1.5k

Billy Knight was not used to being taken care of.

You'd been together for years, and he still stared at you in disbelief when you did things for him. He just couldn't believe that someone would voluntarily, without complaint or pay, take care of him. Especially when he was sick.

He'd come down with a cold. That's all it was. Just a cold. It was making him miserable, but Billy didn't complain. No, he preferred to suffer in silence, not letting on just how bad he felt, not wanting to seem like a burden to the only person who'd ever wanted him.

You noticed, and you were having none of it.

He'd come home yesterday looking pale. He'd hardly eaten any dinner. By the time you'd convinced him to stick a thermometer in his mouth, he knew the jig was up, but he was too tired to keep pretending he was alright. He let you put him to bed.

The next morning, you didn't even bother to wake him before calling in sick on his behalf. You'd seen and heard enough through the night. He wasn't going anywhere today.

You, however, had a few errands to run.

You came home bearing goods.

You'd run to the office to grab some things to work on at home for the week, then stopped by the supermarket for supplies.

You quietly unloaded the groceries on the kitchen counter, putting away the cold stuff and leaving the rest to be dealt with later. You packed all of the Billy Supplies in one bag and carried them into the bedroom, where he's staring at the ceiling in a daze.

He perks up when he sees you come in.

"What are you doing here?"

"I said I'd be back soon." You gesture to the sticky note you'd left on your pillow. Well, it was on your pillow. Now it's on the floor. You pick up the pink square that read "supply run, back soon, love you" and bring it to him.

"Good thing I left a note, right?" you joke, sitting on the edge of the bed next to him and placing the bag on the floor. He smiles and sticks the post-it to your jeans. Brat. You pick it off with a grin, crumpling it and tossing it into the grocery bag.

"Where did you go?"

"Ran by the office to warn them of your plague and graciously volunteered to stay quarantined for the rest of the week, then stopped by the store to grab a few things to ease your suffering."

"You didn't have to do that," he says softly.

"Yes I did."

"But--"

"We were running low on sick supplies anyway. I was so eager to put it behind us last spring when we both had it, I forgot to restock. It needed to be done."

Despite your rambling, he still looks embarrassed. You wish you knew how to get it through his thick skull that you wanted to take care of him. You liked taking care of him. Would you prefer it if he weren't sick? Of course. But you're going to be there, no matter what. Whether he likes it or not.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better."

You raise an eyebrow and wait for a real answer. He is clearly not better. He relents.

"Head hurts. Half my nose is stopped up. Throat hurts."

"Was that so hard?" you ask playfully. He shifts uncomfortably.

"I just don't want to be a bu--" You clamp a hand over his mouth. You've been through this so many times, it almost feels routine.

"Stop. You are not a burden." He turns on the sad puppy eyes, and you suddenly want to throttle everyone he's ever known for allowing him to feel this way.

"You are the love of my life, and I will do anything for you." He blinks away the tears welling in his eyes. You plant a quick peck on the back of your hand, still covering his mouth. Damn that sensible no-kissing-on-the-mouth-when-sick rule you'd agreed upon.

"Including, but not limited to," you continue, removing your hand from his mouth and reaching into the bag at your feet. "Bringing you a brand new box of tissues!" You hold the cardboard box up as if you're displaying a prize on a game show. He smiles, and you place it on his bedside table. "Juice!" You pick up and shake one of the six bottles you bought, put it on the table, and reach for the next item. "Generic over-the-counter cold medications!" You brandish a bottle of syrupy liquid and a box of pills, discard them, and pick up the final item. "And last but certainly not least, vapor rub! Can't believe I didn't think of this last time. My grandmother would be ashamed."

"What's that?"

"Vapor rub." He looks at you cluelessly. Of course he's never used vapor rub. You can't exactly picture his brother applying it for him.

"Take off your shirt, I'll show you." He doesn't move. "Trust me," you urge, pulling down the covers and grasping the hem of his shirt. He sits up and lets you peel it off of him.

He leans back onto his pillow and sniffs, watching curiously as you open the jar. The smell of the menthol wafts over and makes his nose twitch. You scoop out a glob with your finger and lean forward. He briefly wonders if you're going to stick it up his nose, but you stop at his chest and begin rubbing it on in slow circles.

Between the smell and the vision of fingers caressing his chest, Billy suddenly remembers his mother. She did this for him once. He must've been three or four. He remembers a fire roaring in the cottage, casting its light throughout the room and making everything orange. He must have been on the couch. His mother sat next to him holding a jar like this. He can't remember what she's saying, or what her voice sounds like, but he remembers feeling tired and warm and loved. She finishes rubbing the goo on him and wipes her hands on a tissue, then picks up a book to read to him. He remembers that she read him stories about animals and flowers and nature and love and good things in life. Because she was good too. She was so good to him. And then she was gone, stolen from him far too soon, and it seemed like she'd taken all the good things with her.

You notice his eyes tearing up again. "Strong stuff, isn't it?" He bites his lip and nods, sniffling.

"Hey, look at that. You just sniffled with both sides. It's working already." You smile warmly and reach for a tissue to wipe your fingers, just like his mother had.

"Are you hungry?" He shakes his head. "Thirsty?" He shakes his head again. "I'll let you slide for now, but I'm gonna pump you full of fluids before the day's over, okay?" He nods. "Do you want me to stick around, or leave you alone to sleep?" He reaches for your hand. You don't know what's going on in that head of his, but you suspect the faraway look in his eye isn't entirely cold-related.

"You know what used to make me feel better as a kid?" You wait a beat before continuing. "Being read to." He stares. "Do you want me to read to you?" He doesn't respond. "Or not, I could just bring the laptop in and put on a movie or something." You're already trying to talk yourself out of it. It was a dumb idea. He's not a child.

"Please." His voice is barely a whisper.

"You want me to read to you?" He nods once. "Any preference?" He swallows. "How about I bring back a couple and let you pick?" He squeezes your hand. "I'll be right back." You squeeze his hand back and kiss his warm forehead before getting up and walking out of the room. He begins breathing a little harder. Whether it's the menthol working its magic or the panic of being left alone right now, he doesn't know. But a few seconds later, you return and present him with three worn paperbacks. Books you've had since you were a child. All of them about animals.

He considers his options while you change back into pajamas and crawl into bed. He hands you his choice and you settle in next to him. He scoots down so that he can place his head in your lap, and your hand immediately comes to stroke his hair.

There are still good things in life. Animals, and flowers, and nature, and stories. And more importantly, good people to share them with. People who really do love you, no matter what.

As he closes his eyes and tries to focus on the sound of your soothing voice, Billy thinks... maybe he could get used to this.

#writings of despair #billy knight #billy knight x you #billy knight x reader

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mywritingonlyfans · 11 months

Note

the prompts are so cute idek which ones to ask for, i lowkey want them all 😭😭

maybe:

042: "My parents are coming over in 10 minutes so please put some clothes on" and

058: "We’ve become the clingy newlyweds you always complained about. "

i took a while because i almost gave up out of embarrassment, you were the only one who sent 😅 but here we go with something!

here's the prompt list.

He was running late, which was typical of him, but this time it was your fault. You were supposed to wake him up a few minutes ago, but his serene face and angelic expressions were too precious to be interrupted. You had been gazing at him for quite some time now, dressed and ready, anxiously waiting for your parents who had just called to let you know they were on their way. They would be there soon, and you had failed to wake Alex up on time as you had agreed, to which he had eagerly consented, fearing any behavior that could make your parents dislike him (which was certainly impossible).

"It's cute, but you've been smiling at me for a long time now, and it's startin' to get a lil' bit creepy," he lazily smiled, stretching with a comforting grunt. You smiled in response. Indeed, you had been sitting by his side for quite a while. He had a soft post-sex glow, flushed cheeks, as well as a disheveled mess of hair perfectly spread across his forehead. Not to mention, he wasn't wearing any clothes, with just a thin sheet covering his lower half, but still revealing the tantalizing connection between his abdomen and legs. It was a sight that was hard not to admire cautiously. You bit your lip at the thought, not feeling bad about it.

"Have you been awake for a long time, babe?" he asked, to which you were certain, judging by his expression, that it was the second time he had asked since you weren't paying attention. He held onto your waist, analyzing your face and the exposed skin of your chest through your thin shirt. You remembered a time when he had told you that he wished he could verbalize his feelings like you, in just a few words and complementary gestures that made him feel enveloped by you. But the look he was giving you, along with his warm fingers gently caressing your skin, screamed and overflowed with the same reciprocity, and just as intense.

"Not for too long, just enough time to shower and brush my teeth," you let your forehead rest against his, grazing your lips on his nose, cheeks, and mouth multiple times, causing him to slightly close his eyes and surrender to your touch. You hadn't been living together for very long, but it felt as if every minute of it made Alex wonder why he hadn't done it sooner.

"You could have woken me up," he playfully nuzzled his nose into your neck, pulling you closer to him. "I could have join you, little one. You smell so good." You chuckled, snuggling even closer. "I'm glad you don't think I'm stinky." Your hands held his face, allowing you to gaze into his bright and puppy brown eyes. You couldn't help but kiss him all over again. At some point, he placed his hands over yours, making the golden rings clink together, a sound that made both of you laugh, unable to describe the sensation.

You had lost track of time, not even remembering why you had gone to him in bed after the phone call. You could even affirm that you didn't recall the phone call at all until the doorbell rang. You looked at him with wide eyes, the realization that you and him should be ready by now. "Don't tell me it's your parents," he raised his eyebrows affectionately, holding back a laugh. He knew you well enough to expect that you had let time slip away.

"I'm sorry, I should have woken you up, but you looked so adorable, I couldn't bring myself to do it." His cheeks turned rosy, and you loved the effect you had on him so much that you did it on purpose. You always did it on purpose, no matter the situation. He quickly got up, with you clinging to his neck, and hugged you tightly while trying not to let the sheet fall to the ground. "I'll let them in and give you a few minutes to get dressed," you declared, disentangling yourself from him with a sigh that clearly conveyed that this wasn't what you wanted to be doing. Alex chuckled, pulling you back towards him by the waist, and you could feel your hairs a bit crazy on the spine as his lips brushed against your shoulder.

"Come on, Alex, I know it's my fault, but you have 10 minutes to get dressed and join us downstairs," you whined playfully, not even trying to break free from his embrace. Your instinct was to pretend you weren't home, but Alex wouldn't disappoint your parents.

"Just one more quick kiss," he requested, and you obeyed, hearing his satisfied exhale as you dashed towards the door. Alex swiftly put on his pants like never before, and as soon as he slipped on the same long-sleeved shirt from the night before out of sheer haste, he saw you reenter the room with a shout that you were already on your way as the doorbell was echoing through the house, and you grabbed his coat for yourself, something he didn't hesitate to allow. His clothes had become yours anyway, he helped you get decent on his piece. It was burning cold. You looked comfortable and that made him happy.

"Hurry up," you whispered with a teasing smile before leaving once again, and all you could hear was his voice, still hoarse and marked by sleepiness, saying, "We've become the clingy newlyweds you always complained about, y'know." He found himself happily running his fingers through his hair, unable to contain a silly grin.

As for your parents? By this point, they had become accustomed to how clumsy you both were when it came to each other, and living together only amplified that situation. Everyone expected it, and they, as well as all your friends had grown used to it.

#alex turner #alex turner x reader #alex turner imagine #alex turner fanfic #alex prompt list #alex turner fluff

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