#just in case anyone was wondering why there are a few more summaries than I usually do in my writes)
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And they were roommates
(Captain John price x F!reader)
Summary: the captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.
Warnings: angsty (minimal), john being slightly troubled, alcohol, reader being slightly embarrassing.
part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5!! -part 6
—————-
You wake up to the sun softly beaming in your room. Limbs stretching beyond the covers. You look around a little confused as to when you got back in your bedroom. Then it all came together. John, John leaves today.
You get out of the covers leaving your bedroom hoping he’s still there but of course to your disappointment he’s gone. You head to the kitchen knowing at least there will be a note.
Good morning doll, I thought of waking you but decided against it, though I might regret it. The movie was good, you seemed to really be enjoying it also:) Here's the phone number of a friend in case any problems arise. Next time I’m back I hope to see another painting - John
(xxx-xxx-xxxx) - nick
You stare at it trying not to let your emotions get the best of you. So you fold it and put it in the kitchen drawer. Although John was an awfully quiet roommate you could feel the weight of his absence. The cold floor beneath your feet has grown warm for how long you’ve stood there. You make your way towards the front door deciding that an iced coffee and a long drive with music will rid you of this feeling you can’t decipher it feels like want but in a way it’s also need but what is it you want and need? Not even you could answer that question.
Long story short you think it made the feeling intensify.
————-
1 month in
You’ve booked your schedule full leaving not an ounce of time for yourself. From the morning till night you had clients which were good for money but really it was a distraction for your mind. That same feeling felt like it was running into new veins every day seemingly consuming you.
You tried to start a new painting but something was off about the color scheme and it was a waste not only of time but material and energy. You wonder how John is.
————-
2 months in
No problems have arisen since he’s been gone. It's like the house knows you’ll call the expensive plumber instead of John’s friend.
However you have started a painting you are beginning to like. It’s a mix of hues you’ve never used before blues and oranges, a flame. You don’t know where or why the idea came to you but it’s what you wanted so you started it. A single candle is the outline, and the surrounding of it is the orange yellowish aura of a flame. You tried making ratatouille the other day and although it was good you wished it was made out of pepperonis like your childhood mind had imagined. You forgot there was no longer anyone to finish left overs so you ate it for three days straight.
Also you bought a new rug.
————-
3 months in
You’ve begun putting the final laminate on the painting. It’s taken you far longer than it would’ve if you hadn’t accepted 15 new clients. Not that you mind anyways.
You’re also a little ambivalent to the idea of John paying for 6 months of rent when he doesn’t even live here during it.
Besides that life seems stagnant and you’ve begun to lock your bedroom door at night again.
————
4 months in
The painting now hangs a foot away from where the other one in front of John’s door does. It’s a beautiful contrast and really you were overjoyed at the outcome. You also randomly decided it’d be a good idea one night after too much wine to order new furniture for the outside deck. When it arrived you were one in disbelief of all the building pieces and and two excited to have something more to do.
You should've stayed up the night John left.
————
5 months in
Redecorating the deck wasn’t enough change. You needed a makeover physically but couldn’t decide how. Maybe a tattoo? No. New makeup? No. How about a haircut? Fuck it, yes.
So you did just that, you got a few almost unnoticeable highlights and chopped a good amount off. After the fact you were obsessed. Was it impulsive and could it have gone so horribly wrong, yes. But did it? No.
———
6 months in
John’s still not back and it’s all you could think about. What if something happened to him? What if he wasn’t coming back? You worried yourself sick so much so you physically became sick.
You waited week by week for anything, maybe he’s back on base but just hasn’t come back home yet. But something was telling you it was more than that.
———-
7 months in
At this point worrying wasn’t going to make him appear. Your hobbies have now turned into distractions. So tonight you sit in the living room with a glass of wine and watch another rom com. You’re as comfy as can be in this cold brutal weather. It stays below 30 degrees Fahrenheit during this time of year and the snow bites at any unclothed skin.
You fall asleep to the small hum of the heater while on the couch. Thick blanket thrown across you and tv playing as background chatter.
You don’t know when you wake but it’s still dark outside when you hear someone that sounds distressed. Your groggy mind isn’t processing that the sound is coming from inside the house. But when it does you're up in a second looking around as your eyes try to adjust to the darkness.
“Fuck!” You hear from down the hall. John’s room.
You walk quietly towards it as he continues to chant that word. Suddenly it falls silent and you just hear what sounds to be deep breaths. You don’t know what wills you to knock, but you do.
“John, are you okay?” You ask softly from behind the closed door. He doesn’t respond but you know he’s in there from the quiet but quick breathing.
“No.” He says with that familiar deep drawl.
You open the door slowly to see him sitting on the floor near the corner of his bed clearly distressed. You take notice of the mess wondering how you slept through the making of it. There’s glass from somewhere on the floor and clothes strewn but when you look at him your heart breaks. He’s in full uniform, vest on, belt with equipment on, as if he didn’t stop anywhere. Just came straight here. His hair has grown out to an odd length and his beard has grown longer.
“I can’t get this fucking vest off.” He interrupts your thoughts looking at you with a sense of sorrow. You kneel to where he is careful to avoid glass. His eyes don’t glance up to meet yours; they stay fixated on his hands that are covered in dirt.
“May I?” You gesture towards the plastic buckles on the vest. He nods and you start with the two at his shoulders. Then you reach down his chest to undo the two near his belt buckle. You realize it must be connected somewhere in the back when it doesn’t come off. He leans forwards as you look trying to avoid the bloodstains that taint the once green vest and sure enough the tiniest but mightiest buckle is on the center of his lower back. He shrugs it off with a sigh.
“Better?” You ask softly.
“Yeah, Thankyou.” He slowly tilts his head back to lean on the comforter and you don’t move an inch.
“What can I do?” Truthfully you’ve never been in a situation so unbearably awkward but so unwilling to just leave.
“Just sit here with me.” So you do. You scoot right next to him and lean your head on his shoulder. He couldn’t admit it but the nights he slept in cold frost biting weather the thought of returning to your warm presence got him through.
“He almost died.” His voice gives out at the end of that sentence.
“Who?”
“Johnny, it would’ve been my fault. One second later and they would’ve put a bullet through his skull.”
“But he’s okay?” You know John loves his team even though he doesn’t outwardly say it.
“He’s perfectly fine.”
“Worrying about what could’ve been will kill you.”
“Sometimes I feel like that’s what I deserve for some of the things I’ve done.”
“If not you it would be someone else making the world a better place.”
“I know.”
You sit there with him for a while in silence. He can barely believe he made it back alive but right now the battle feels worth it. He hears soft snores not too long later and realizes you’ve fallen back to sleep. His head leans to rest above yours as he closes his eyes. He knows sleep won’t come to him but he’s never had you this close and for now he’ll cherish it.
————-
When you woke up again the sun had risen and a golden glow lit John’s room.
“John.” You whisper trying not to move your head in case he’s sleeping.
“Yeah doll.” He lifts his head to look at you.
“I’m so sorry.” You feel slightly embarrassed and bad that you just fell asleep on him.
“Nothing to be sorry for.” He sighs before standing on his feet with a groan then offering you hand to help you up.
“I’m going to shower.” He says as you dust yourself off.
“After can I give you a haircut?” He laughs a little at your not so subtle realization of his long hair..
“If you’d like.”
“I’d love.” You say before leaving, assuring him you’d be back when he's done.
You pick up your mess from the previous night. Folding your blanket and putting it back in the basket near the couch. Taking your wine glass to the sink and rinsing it out. You go to your room and change into an outfit for the day and do your morning routine. After you grab your shears, clippers and cape. By the time you're done doing all of this you no longer hear the water running meaning John’s done with his shower. You knock on his door lightly.
“Come in.” You walk in to see him sweeping up his mess with the small house broom and can’t help but smile at the sight.
“Come on, let's cut your hair in the bathroom, better lighting and you can see what I’m doing.” You say heading straight there. You sit him on the little bathroom bar stool that’s been in there since your ex moved out. Once he’s sitting the only cape you have is pink so you throw it on him begging yourself to not laugh which you fail causing him to smirk.
“Okay so I’m just gonna clean it up, fade the sides a very little, cut the top with shears and what not.” You let him know.
“You cut your hair?” He replies, staring at you through the mirror.
“Yeah so?” You smile.
“I like it, it looks good.” You feel that feeling only johns been able to provoke.
“Thankyou.” You begin the cut, slowly combing out sections making sure to be precise. He seems far more relaxed than you’d imagined as you just freely cut at the top. After the matter once you're satisfied you shave the sides a little just enough to where it looks cleaner.
“Can I do your beard and mustache?”
“You're the hairstylist, not me?” Is all he says.
So you do, very carefully, mere inches away from his face your hands hold one side of his jaw softly to trim the other side. He watches your expression intently. The way when you’re focused there’s a crease that forms between your eyebrows and your pupils blow a little wide.
“All done.” You say pulling him from his trance. You move his face with your hands really checking to make sure all is well.
“Very handsome.” You compliment before turning around to rinse your shears and put them away.
“Thank You doll.” He says examining it himself in the mirror thoroughly pleased with how well you did even though he knows you don’t cut men’s hair. He doesn’t notice you grab his beard oil from the cabinet till you're smoothing it between your hands and asking him to face you so you can rub it through the coarse brown hair. Ever the nurturer.
It feels like time apart only made you two feel closer somehow. Or maybe it’s because you wanted to be close and those feelings were equally reciprocated.
The rest of that day John had loads of paperwork to file, sign and report. So he did that, he sat in his office for long hours going through the process. The only thing that slightly lightened this burden was your voice humming in the kitchen as you cooked something. You’d stopped by and offered him some which he gladly accepted from your giving hands. Hours later you bid him a goodnight and went to bed and even then he had so much more left.
—————
The next day you catch John in the kitchen and tell him there’s something you must show him.
“So you built it all yourself?” He says as you show him your little project you did outside. There’s a thick coat wrapped around you as you don’t fully step outside to avoid slipping on the icy ground. Him though, he stands on it with no problem in what looks like military issued boots.
“Yes I did.” You say proudly despite his clear disdain.
“I missed you, even your stubbornness.” After the months John’s been through there was no point in hiding the way he was feeling.
“I missed you too.” You smile while clearly avoiding his gaze.
How had he missed this all along?
“Would you like to go out for drinks?”
“What?” You turn around to meet his eyes.
“Can I take you out for drinks?” What being mere inches away from death does to a man.
“Yeah.”
-
You both silently walk away trying to break the bounds of the tense pull that makes you want to gravitate towards each other. You put on something cute but also warm and slip on some brown doc martens as your choice of shoe. You do light makeup as you give yourself a pep talk.
“Only two drinks, only two drinks.” You have to tell yourself cause after two your too you.
You hear John putting his shoes on by the hallway and take in the sight of him, brown leather jacket and beanie. You’re not sure how he’s going to stay warm in that but something tells you he will.
“Ready?” He asks and you nod nervously.
-
“Okay, hold on, I have to do this really slow or I’ll fall.” You say stepping slowly out onto the ground below the porch stairs.
“Well come here I’ll help you.” He offers his hand. You grab it softly, swooning at the way it encompasses your own. There’s something inside of him that doesn’t even want you to risk walking on this floor but of course he also doesn’t want to push.
“Okay nice and slow.” You’re not even taking full steps, just small slides. You clutch his hand for dear life and he loves it.
“Good girl.” He says once you reach the door of his truck which he opens for you. He doesn’t let go till you sit inside then only does he slip his hand from your warm one and closes the door.
“Which pub?” You ask as he turns on the heater only for your sake.
“The one downtown near the little Italian grocer.” You know exactly which one he’s talking about. Its dim light atmosphere is cozy but fun but usually full of mainly couples.
“Mkay.” You say looking out the window at the gloomy sky realizing it just might rain.
He glances your way during the small drive, your scent of your floral perfume mixed with his of cardamom and musk is quite perfect.
“You alright?” He asks.
“Yeah, just comfy, you?” He grins at your response.
“Never been better.”
He pulls into one of the street parking spots and despite the weather the streets are full, he gets out to put coins inside the slot for time before heading to your side of the car.
“Wait, I'm scared.” You say realizing that the distance to the bar doesn’t seem to be a survivable one.
“Come on, I'll hold your hand.”
“I’ll fall regardless.”
“Want me to carry you?” He genuinely offers.
“What?” You laugh.
“Doll I’m very serious I will carry you, just get on my back.”
“What if we both fall?”
“I’m not falling, trust me.” He says turning around motions for you to get on his back.
“Okay then.” You hook your legs around his upper waist and his arms reach to tuck themselves firmly beneath your knees.
“Comfortable?” He asks. He’s sure you can hear his heart racing from the proximity you’re in.
“Very.” All your dreams of climbing this man have come true.
You shut the door as he steps onto the sidewalk. You tuck your chin in by his neck for warmth. He smells woodsy with a hint of musk, it makes your head spin.
“How are you not slipping?” You say very suspicious.
“Doll I could run on this floor with these boots on.” He answers looking slightly over his shoulder at you.
“Well don’t.” You say seriously and he laughs as he approaches the bar, opening the door and setting you softly on the floor.
He finds you both a booth in the corner and sits on the side where he can see the entire bar, very John of John.
“What do you drink?” He asks, trying to make conversation. Suddenly the air feels very intimate, almost too intimate for what he considers his old man heart.
“When I’m out, martinis.”
“Espresso?”
“Mhmm.” You’re trying your hardest to hold the eye contact he’s giving you but something about the blue in his eyes and creases on the side of them has you breaking it quicker than it started.
“I’ll be back then.” He says sliding out of the booth feeling slightly accomplished.
You sit there looking at the lively pub, how many romances are at their peak here, how many friends are having the best night of their lives, how you amongst them are finally feeling like you again.
“Here we are.” He says returning with two glasses, his is a classic bourbon with a square ice cube in the glass.
“Thankyou.” You say as he slides it over to you.
“So what’d you do while I was gone, other than be reckless and build furniture.” He asks as you sip from your glass.
“I did lots of hair, painted a bit, found new color schemes for decor and that’s kinda it, I’d ask you the same question but I fear you can’t answer.”
“Your fears are true.”
“That Kate woman, she's very pretty.” Are you a little jealous?
“Yeah she’s also very married.” He says it like he doesn’t know what you're on about.
“And also not into men.” You nearly choke on your drink and swallow hard to get it down.
“Well I was just saying.” Sure you were.
You two have small chatter as you go through drinks. You tried to offer the second round but John said no for you to just stay in your seat. He came back with thirds and you definitely were starting to feel the effects of the previous two, him though not at all.
“So you’re telling me John you as very um good looking as you are haven’t had a girlfriend in how long?”
“Eight years.” He says while being very amused with your light hearted, open attitude.
“That’s just not right.”
“No?”
“No, personally, well never mind.” You’re not drunk enough to say what you were about too.
“What about you, why no boyfriends?”
“I’m very, I would say needy I guess clingy even, I’m a double texter, someone who worries and loves too much and I think that can be overwhelming for a lot of people.” You admit.
“Don’t believe that.” He says, sounding a little annoyed.
“For the right person you could never be overwhelming.” He says looking at you intensely and this time you can’t seem to look away.
Once your third drink is finished it’s raining outside and you’re words away from trouble.
“John?”
“Yeah doll.”
“You make me feel alive again.” You admit, the alcohol has casted a pretty shade of pink on your cheeks as you lean your head on your hand and John doesn’t think he’s ever been more entranced.
“You and me both, here drink some water.” He slides it to you. You’re sweet, too sweet. He feels like if he touches you physically or emotionally he’d be tainting art.
“Has anyone told you you're very climbable?”
“It’s time for us to get going, you're quite the light weight.” He laughs offering you a hand as you slide off the booth.
He leaves a tip on the table before walking with you to the door. He has to bend far more than he normally would for you to secure yourself on his back before he’s walking outside. This time he’s walking faster because of the rain droplets that are falling hard. He seats you in the car and reaches across you to buckle you in before heading to his side.
The drive home is pretty quiet, he drives extra slowly because of the precious cargo he carries. Once he pulls back into the gravelly drive way you unbuckle and open the door as he puts the car in park.
“You don’t want to wait for me.” He asks, a little concerned.
“I got this.” You hop out of the elevated truck immediately slipping and having to grab onto the door. He walks quickly to your side laughing at the expression on your face.
“You sure do.” He says as he grabs your arm
“Oh stop it.” You say accepting the help, sliding your feet on the ice again till you get to the door. Once you get inside you groan into the toasty air.
“Thankyou for tonight John.” You say facing him once you kick your boots off. You hadn’t realized how close you were till you turned around and could feel the heat radiating off of him and smell the bourbon on his breath.
“No, thank you.” He says feeling awfully captivated, hanging onto your every move. You cup his face and stand on your tippy toes, boldly yet slowly placing a kiss on the corner of his lips.
He’s starstruck. Absolutely dazed at the look of mischief in your eyes, something that tells him you know exactly what you’re doing to him.
“Goodnight John.” You say patting his chest and walking down towards your room.
—————
I couldn't wait till tommorrow i'm sorry.
comments and reposts are greatly appreciated:)
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#angst#captain price x female reader#john price#barry sloane#captain john price#john price x reader#task force 141#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#simon ghost riley
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The Better Man
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~1.1k
Warnings: fluff, minor angst
Summary: You're a single mom who hates bringing men into your life only to have them leave. Your daughter deserves better than that. You're currently dating Spencer, and you're wondering if it's the right time to bring him into her life. Will it be worth it?
Square Filled: “you want? you want? you want? what about what I want?” for @anyfandomgoesbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
x
I can do this. I’m more than capable of getting breakfast ready for both me and my daughter. Even if she is screaming her head off. Oh, please be quiet. Please make it stop.
“Gemma, please stop crying. I am getting your food.” She continues to cry. “Baby, please. I’m working as hard as I can right now.”
If anyone were to look in your kitchen window, they would see a woman who is just trying to feed her child while looking like a raccoon with messy bedhead hair. The bags under your eyes don’t help your case, either, but you haven’t gotten much sleep this past week. Gemma has been sick and has been keeping you up at all hours of the night.
Sometimes you feel like a shitty mom because it seems like whatever you do isn’t enough. Being a single mom is hard. No one told you how to do this. No one gave you a rule book and said, “Here you go! Study for the final exam!” where the final exam is actually having a kid. You’re doing the best you can do even if it doesn’t feel like it.
Before you can start crying because Gemma is crying, you plate some bananas, cereal, and small strawberries on a plate for her. She immediately stops crying when the food is in front of her, and she digs in. You chuckle tiredly and kiss the top of her head. She is getting so old. It seems like yesterday you birthed her when really, it’s been eight months.
Your phone rings and you light up at seeing Spencer’s name.
“Hey,” you answer.
“Hey. I’m off this weekend if you want to hang out.”
“I don’t think I’ll be able to get a sitter,” you sigh. “I’m pretty low on money right now.”
“That’s fine. I don’t mind if you bring her along. I understand if you don’t want to, but I’m really great with kids. I’d love it if she came along.”
You and Spencer have been seeing each other for a few months but he hasn’t met your daughter yet. You don’t want to introduce her to someone new if they’re not going to be in your life for very long. You really like Spencer and you hope he’s going to be in your life for a long time. He’s been very patient when it comes to your daughter, and maybe it’s time they meet.
“Why don’t you come over? I’d feel more comfortable having a date here.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I think it’s time you meet Gemma.”
“Okay, yeah! I’ll bring some food over and we can cook together.”
“That’d be amazing,” you smile.
“I gotta go. I’ll see you Friday.”
“Okay. Bye.” You hang up with a huge smile on your face. “You hear that, Gemma? You get to meet Spencer. He’s a sweetheart. You’ll love him.”
She squeals in response but it’s mostly because she wants more bananas. You’re not worried that she will love him, it’s if Spencer will love her. You can’t think about that. You have work to get to. The call center you work at has a daycare attached to it for parents who can’t get someone to watch their kids, so every day is Bring Your Daughter To Work Day.
The weekend comes faster than you expected but that means Spencer gets to come over. He might even spend the night if all goes well. When Spencer comes over, he is nothing but sweet towards Gemma. She is playing in her playpen but as soon as Spencer walks in, she squeals and crawls over to him.
“Spencer, this is Gemma. Baby, this is Spencer.” Spencer grins and picks her up once she gets to him. “I’ve been trying to get her to walk lately. She turns eight months next week.”
“Hi, Gemma. Do you want to walk for Mama? Yeah, I can see it. You’ll get there,” he chuckles.
Spencer brings in the groceries he bought so you two can cook lunch while Gemma plays and watches Spongebob. While you don’t know how to be a single mom, and learning every day to be better, you’d rather do this than be with the ex who knocked you up. He left you when you were pregnant so it’s just been you and Gemma for a long time now. It’s hard to let men in your life, especially with a kid so young, but Spencer has been nothing but a complete gentleman to you. He takes things at your pace, never does anything to make you uncomfortable, and always puts you and Gemma first.
Dinner is spent talking about your week and the plans you have this weekend and afterward, Spencer goes to the living room to play with Gemma some more. He’s really warming up to her. Maybe this is going to be a good thing. Your phone rings and your blood runs cold when you see who is calling you. You excuse yourself and step off to the side while Spencer tosses Gemma in the air a few inches only to catch her. Her laughter makes this night all the better.
“What do you want?” you ask when you answer the phone.
“Hey, you got any money to spot me? I’m in a bit of a pickle,” your ex asks.
“Are you kidding me right now? You call me up after how many months only to ask for money?”
“Can you do it or not?”
“Fuck no,” you hiss on the phone. “This might be in your grand plan, but I want you to actually start acting like a dad and be there for Gemma. You know, the daughter you have?”
“You want? You want? You want? What about what I want?”
“You’re a piece of shit.”
“Fuck this. I can’t believe calling you was ever a good idea.”
He hangs up after those harsh words, and you try your hardest not to cry. He’s fucking lucky you’re not going after him for child support, but maybe you should.
“Y/N! Look!” You look at Spencer and Gemma to see her walking toward him on wobbly legs. “She’s walking!”
“Gemma!” you gasp and rush over. “You’re walking, baby!”
Before she can fall to the ground, Spencer scoops her in his arms and kisses her cheeks. She has no idea what is going on but she loves the attention. Spencer looks like he doesn’t want to be anywhere but here. Seeing him with Gemma today has only made you realize that he’s the only man you ever want in Gemma’s life.
x
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#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fiction#spencer reid fan fiction#spencer reid fan fic#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fluff#cm#cm fic#cm fanfiction#cm fanfic#cm fluff
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Firsts IV
Hardersson x Preteen!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: Your first period
You've just come home from school when you ask about it.
It was one of the rare days you went in, an English test that you couldn't miss but Magda knew you would ace. You'd only been in for half a day and one of your friend's mothers had driven you back instead of making you take the bus.
Magda's typing away at her laptop when you come in, toeing off your shoes and moving your portable phone charger from your school bag into the training bag waiting by the door.
You dip into the kitchen to grab a snack.
"Morsa?" You call.
"Hmm, yeah?" Magda doesn't take her eye off her screen.
"Where are the sanitary pads?"
"Er..." Magda has to think for a moment. She hasn't used one in a while. "Cabinet in the downstairs bathroom, I think? Why?"
You give her an odd look as you pass on your way there. "I started my period at school today."
"Oh, okay." She nods and goes back to typing.
It's only when you disappear into the bathroom, that her brain catches up with what you've said.
"What do you mean you've started your period?! Princesse? Princesse!"
You return a few minutes later. "I started my period."
"You're twelve!"
You give her another odd look, little crinkle between your brows. "I know, Morsa. I'm old enough to have one now."
Magda looks around wildly, looking for any support she can get but Pernille's still at work and it's just her with you.
"Okay," She says, more to herself than anyone else," Okay. Right, your period." Her throat bobs. "Alright, so...Periods are when-"
"Morsa, are you trying to give me the talk?"
"Listen," Magda says," I know this is going to be awkward but stay with me here. We're going to work through this together. Periods are when-"
"Morsa...I've already been given the talk."
Magda's world comes crashing down. "What do you mean you've already been given the talk?!"
"We went over it in biology," You say with a shrug," And I've already taken some painkillers." You frown. "Am I still okay to go to practice tonight?"
Magda's not keeping up at all as her mouth hangs open and she tries to equate your age with the fact that you've started your period. It didn't make sense at all.
You still slept with your plushies. You couldn't be nearly old enough to start your period, let alone rummaging around the period products without a care in the world. Magda doesn't think she's overreacting but you're being strangely calm about this all, your only worry being about if you would still be able to go to training.
"Okay," Magda says even though none of this is even remotely okay," So...You started your period at school?"
"Yeah but some of my friends had pads that I can use so it's not a big deal."
You're being so nonchalant about this that Magda is really worrying she's ended up in some alternate universe where she's being outrageously hysterical about this whole thing.
"And you've already taken some painkillers?"
"Yes."
"And you're wondering if you're allowed to go to practice today?"
"Morsa? Are you okay? You've been acting a little weird..."
"I'm not acting weird!" Magda's voice goes embarrassingly high pitched. "This is all completely fine! Better than fine! Amazing!"
The look you're giving her is clearly one of worry and you cautiously reach the back of your hand up to measure her temperature.
"What's going on?" Pernille comes in just as you place your hand on Magda's forehead.
"Morsa's acting weird," You declare," And she's not answering my questions."
"I'll answer your questions," Pernille says as she hangs up her coat and unlaces her shoes," What do you want to know?"
"Can I still go to practice even though I've started my period?"
"You've started your period? Well done, princesse. If you still want to go to practice then go. Just make sure to snack a little bit during breaks and keep drinking. Have you taken painkillers?"
You nod.
"Take some with you, just in case. Now, what's wrong with your Morsa?"
You shrug. "I don't know. She's been acting weird ever since I got back."
"Magda? Is something wrong?"
Mutely, Magda shakes her head. Pernille's being calm too. Maybe she is blowing this out of proportion.
"Just...Work stuff is a little stressful," She lies, not wanting to admit that the idea of you having started your period is stressing her out.
Thankfully, both you and Pernille seem to take that as fact.
"Well," Pernille says, turning back to you," I'll log it in my calendar and we'll start tracking them. The first few are going to be a little bit irregular so we'll see how it goes. Once they're more consistent, we'll talk about moving you onto tampons, if you want. They're a bit easier to play with."
Magda stays rooted to the sofa. She's going to have to come to terms with you starting your periods but the idea of you using tampons is a bit too big for her to cope with at the moment.
#woso x reader#hardersson x reader#pernille harder x reader#pernille harder#magdalena eriksson x reader#magdalena eriksson#woso community#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso#The Big Adventures Universe
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Protective Flower
Pairing: Harry Hook x Fem!Reader
Wordcount: 1.4k
Summary: While making your rounds of the Isle making sure everyone still fears your name, you run into an old acquaintance. Someone oversees this and doesn't take lightly to others touching what is his.
Bingo: @eclipsingbingo with the square 'Jealousy'
*Gif does not belong to me
Boots clicking with every step, you had not a care in the world as you walked through the Isle of the Lost. Why would you? You were the daughter of Madame Gothel, the Mother Gothel. Everyone on the Isle knew of your mother's story and with that came protection, a blanket of safety that her name alone offered you.
That didn't mean you let the glare on your features fall or had your back turned on anyone for too long. With brisk steps you passed through different sections of the Isle, never staying for too long. It was only when you saw the back of someone's head whom you never thought you'd see again.
"Jay?" You slowly question, your voice hesitant in case who you thought was in front of you was an illusion or just an insanely good look-alike whom you've never seen before that day. It was only when the boy's head of long brown hair turned and a whisper of your name left his lips that you knew it was him. "What are you doing here? I thought you had gotten off this island and were at Auradon."
"Some circumstances have changed," He muttered with a coy grin, bounding his way over to you. The fast approach made you take a few small steps back, trying to put distance in between the two of you in case he decided to try something, though Jay bypassed this easily, one of his strides making up for three of yours as he wrapped his arms tightly around you. "I've missed you. We all have."
You froze immediately as you were engulfed, not expecting the embrace and hardly knowing what to call it. The feeling that arose from being trapped within Jay's arms was odd, almost comforting. That didn't matter though as you kept your arms glued to your side, not raising them to return the gesture.
"I'm sure it would've passed," You mumbled, voice gruff as you remembered what it had been like before Jay, Mal, Evie and Carlos left the Isle. How things have changed since then. Your words caused Jay to finally pull back, which you were both grateful for since the action was weak, though also longed for it to return, the simple contact something you have never experienced on the Isle evoking something within you. It must have been some trickery Auradon had taught them. "You never did say why you were here. And if you're here, I'm assuming so are the others."
"About that," Jay trailed off, hand sheepishly going to rub at the back of his neck. The action instantly had you quirking an eyebrow, never before seen such an action from the taller VK. Or former VK. "Carlos actually sent me to come and find you. We were wondering if we could use your help. Like old times-"
"What do we have here?" A taunting voice called out, cutting off the end of Jay's sentence, not that you needed to hear the rest of it to know what he was asking of you. You didn't even bat an eye to the new voice, coming well accustomed to it in the past year, more so than before Jay and his little redeemed squad had run off. "Runnin' into ya two times in a day has got ta be a good omen."
Jay's whole deemer immediately changed at not only the sight of him but also the sound. Turning an annoyed glare that held more heat than you knew Jay could still muster onto the newest arrival, Jay greeted him with a less than pleased grunt, "Hook."
Harry Hook, in all his glory, came out from the shadows he had previously lurking in so the deranged grin he was flashing could be seen by all.
"Don't sound so sad ta see me," Harry's laugh felt as if a harsh bite had sunken into you. It wasn't unwelcomed but such a stark contrast to what Jay had offered you moments ago. His eyes fell on you quickly, blue irises sucking you in as he walked closer, sealing his spot at your side as he wrapped a tight arm around your waist and pulled you flush to his side. "I was wondering when the two of yer would meet again. It was only a matter of time I suppose."
Jay's eyes locked in on the hand on your waist, Harry's fingers flexing at the sight as they curled in tighter. The sensation didn't hurt, not when you've felt it before. It was almost comforting, though in a different way to how Jay tried offering it. You weren't oblivious enough to not understand that Harry was staking his claim, however, making it known to Jay how things were running this time around.
"I didn't know the two of you had buddied up since we've been gone," Jay had to drag his eyes away from where the two of you were connected, never taking his eyes off of you as he refused to look into Harry's.
"Things have changed since you and the others were taken off the Isle," You shrugged your shoulders up as you spoke, giving it to Jay plainly. After he and the others left you were without a gang to call your own, leaving you to resort to other means of getting by. "Not all of us were whisked away to be Princesses and Princes."
"I can see that," Jay breathes out as if the words were vile on his tongue. You weren't ashamed of this. Just because you had grown closer to Harry and his crew in his and the other's absence didn't mean you were going to flip a switch now that they were back. "It was nice catching up with you. If you want to talk more, you know where to find us."
"I'll see you around Jay," You bid your farewell, surprised that Harry was able to remain as quiet as he did. Not sparing you another word, though his eyes flickered down to where Harry kept his hold on you, Jay turned away so he could make his way back to the hideout he must've come from.
"Now wasn't that a lovely chat," Harry chirped, rounding on you once Jay was out of sight. His other hand came down to your hip, resting there tightly as he slowly began to back you up. "I was just on my way to warn ya as well of Mal and her little crew's arrival. Somehow ya always beat me to it though."
"I must just be lucky at sniffing out people with pretty faces," You say, not a second later your back came in contact with the wall behind you, a small huff leaving your nose at the contact. With a cruel quirk of your lips, you bring a hand up to pass through some of his hair. "Maybe that's how I found you all those months ago."
"Cute," Harry barked out a bitter laugh, bringing his face closer to yours. Some of that bitterness seeped into his face as he looked down at you, his next words coming as a sting. "Uma doesn't want ya going near them. Who knows what they've brought from Auradon. And we all know how close ya were with them before they left."
"Good thing Uma doesn't control what I do then," You dipped your face to the side as Harry tried to trap your lips in a harsh kiss, his teeth ready to make an appearance. Instead, a kiss was left on your cheek, the pirate recoiling back once he realised. With a smirk of your own, you leaned in, trailing feather-light kisses across his neck and jaw. Your lips ghosted his skin, never staying in one spot for too long. "Though I'm sure an exception could be made if you asked nicely."
"Stay away from Jay and his friends," Harry spoke lowly, lips chasing after yours as you continued to evade him. With a raised brow, you stared at him as if you were waiting for more, leaning back so he couldn't reach you. With an eye roll from his dark eyes, an abundance of eyeliner smeared around them, he grinned out, "Please."
You waited a few moments, bringing both of your hands up to cup his face. Dragging him slowly, you brushed your lips quickly against his, muttering before finally giving him what he wanted, "I'll consider it."
#eclipsingbingo#eclipsing bingo#descendants#harry hook#descendants 2#jay#jay descendants#harry hook descendants#x reader#harry hook x reader#reader insert#fem reader#x you#fanfic#fanfiction#disney movies#disney#disney descendants#descendants fanfiction#descendants fandom#isle of the lost#harry hook x you
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Wonderstruck
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Ex!Reader
Summary: Simon Riley finally takes it upon himself to check up on his childhood best friend and ex lover. He's been torturing himself reminiscing on your relationship and what went wrong for years now. Little does he know... you're in the same boat. Having seen someone today you swore was Simon on your way to work, you too, reflect on the past.
Words: 3.2k
Warnings: Cursing, Angst, Stalking(?),
Mentions of: Drinking, Smoking, Motorcycle Riding
A/N: I don't know why but I constantly am getting inspired by certain songs, or am reminded of certain characters, and all the lyrics were just screaming childhood best friends to estranged lovers, right person wrong time Simon Riley. Nevertheless, if you'd love to listen to some versions of the song which inspired me, here we are! Line divider credit: @saradika-graphics and I'd also love to thank @penelopepine for helping me with the ending <3
He knew it was a bad idea as soon as it'd crossed his mind, yet somehow he couldn't rid himself of it time and time again. That's how he found himself here; watching you cross the street, he can't help but notice the vintage band t-shirt you have on, frayed at the edges with the little strings of the hem coming undone that you've refused to cut off. In you hands you clutch a new phone, no doubt an upgrade from the last one he'd seen you with- though it's been a while.
As you mindlessly tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, he can't help the way his insides churn. You were always effortlessly beautiful; you never had to try for anything. Even now, the way you can walk across the busy cobblestone side streets of London in high heels without seemingly second-guessing yourself, body language still poised on guard and ready in case anyone tries anything, just like he'd taught you.
It's clear from your outfit and the lipstick you’re donning that you're attempting to sway the officials at work. Maybe trying for that promotion you’d always been talking about, but never had the gumption to make today the day. What’s different about today, he wonders. You'd always been a go-getter, and truthfully, it was something Simon admired about you. Even in the moments where he'd resented it the most, the constant pestering and prodding at him in an attempt to get him to move and drag him out of the holes his dug himself into...
Where would he be now if only he listened?
What if you knew better?
He couldn't deny that the thoughts kept him up at night while he was away. Though, admittedly, more often than not it was the string of random memories that he’d get glimpses of during the day. It’d always be at the worst times, too. Two weeks ago in Berlin he’d been clapping Kyle on the back, hoping he’ll get it together as he stumbled out the pub. While Soap had the camaraderie to slug half his mate’s weight over his broad shoulders, Simon found himself unable to help as his eyes were drawn in by a couple a few paces down the block.
“Bollocks!” He’d shouted out in frustration. Double-checking himself, he didn’t have a spare cap on him, and he knew he sure as hell didn’t bring an umbrella on your little last minute ‘trip’. Not that he’d really call walking down to the local Tesco for snacks late one summer evening a trip. ‘It’ll be an adventure! Just think of it like that.’ You’d persuaded him.
“What? Are you going to melt?” He hears you joke. As his brown eyes land on your face when you turn to meet his gaze, a few steps ahead of him down the road, he can’t help the smile that breaks out across his lips upon your laughter. Sure, you may both be a little drunk after spending the evening in and having a drink or two. But it doesn’t change the way he feels about you, if anything, it makes him even more keenly aware of the way you affect him.
“Maybe. Who knows?” He teases in responses, tugging his jacket up and over his head to shield himself from the cool summer rain. Despite the time, now he’ll most likely need a shower when you get home. As he jogs to catch up and bring you under his little makeshift cocoon, you do the unexpected.
It was you, of course… he should’ve known better, always testing him, pushing him. With a gentle drop of the plastic bag full of snacks upon the side of the road you’d been strolling down, he watches as you run into the empty street. The streetlights illuminate you in a hazy orangey-yellow light as you begin to spin and twirl, dancing in the street.
With a shake of his head, he’s left stunned once again by the vast difference of your personalities. Your jeans and t-shirt are starting to get damp and discolored, and there’s a taunting, displeased remark sitting on his tongue just waiting to be made. It’s the utter joyous smile on your face as you tip your head back and relinquish yourself to your fate that leaves him wonderstruck, he thinks.
“Come on, Simon!” You beckon, finally meeting his gaze once again with that familiar carefree, hopeful look behind your irises. With an outstretched hand, he knows he can’t deny you this… and really, there’s something inside him that tells him he doesn’t want to, either.
“It’s her, innit?” He hears his Captain’s voice call over his shoulder. Pulled from his memories, Simon dismisses Price with a nonchalant grunt. As the old man tries to place a hand on his shoulder he dodges it, realizing he’s been watching the couple for longer than he’d thought. With Soap and Gaz almost to the end of the block, Simon sighs before shrugging his shoulders to right his jacket and head off in their direction for backup.
That was a time when your playfulness been more easily taken and accepted without question. No fighting, no push back, resentments… maybe that was it: he’d stopped going with the flow. He’d stopped accepting the punches and started dodging and weaving your advances at fixing things and picking up where he left you. Because while it’s too late now, he’s finally realized it for what it is: he left you in the dark, he’s the one who pushed you away, closed himself off.
That night he’d curled up in the temporary bed he’d been assigned, more memories continued to consume him. The way you’d effortlessly ease his worries on nights he’d come home stressed, feathers ruffled from whatever petty drama went on during the day. Whether it was something the guys said that stuck with him, or something he couldn’t get out of his mind when he came back from deployment. Your kisses always seemed to be the cure, your love… or maybe it was just… you.
“You know furrowing your brows like that will cause wrinkles,” you inform him, reaching out to run gentle fingers over his bunched skin.
A grunt of acknowledgment leaves his lips. “More for me to worry about, hm?” While it’s all he says, his eyes are searching over your composure.
“No,” it leaves your lips without thought, “just something to think about, be mindful of. If you’re not upset, then why furrow them?” Voice quiet in the moonlit apartment, your fingers smooth out his brows gently as you admire him. “I read something the other day about how it’s possible our body informs our mental state. If you’re tensing all the time, it won’t help your stress, Si.”
He simply hums in response, doing nothing to stop you as you ghost your lips over his for a moment before planting a loving chaste kiss to his. While big and wide warm hands find the exposed bit of skin between the hem of your sleeping pants and the shirt you wear, it’s the unexpected cool sensation that elicits a muffled gasp. Your much smaller hands are sneaking up underneath his sweatshirt to explore his abdomen, caressing him like he were made of soft silk. Your lips meet again for a chaste kiss.
Then it’s turning into something more; you have to take it slow, your lips dancing against one another, his hand rubbing your back to let you know it’s alright. As you begin to run out of breath, it’s only when you pull away, lashes fluttering against his skin that you ask him. “You know I’d love you even with wrinkles, right?”
Taken aback, he can’t help but stare. Unsure how to respond or what to do, his lips part in search of words. “Is that so?” He finally questions, hand giving your side a soft squeeze.
“My favorite boy… I love you to the moon and back… scars and all. I always have, and I always will, Simon,” you whisper, ghosting his lips again before planting one on him, “I just hope you know that.”
And at the time, he swore he did. It’s odd, really, and he wouldn’t lie to himself about it either. Simon tried dating after you, he tried hooking up, he tried it all… but it never felt right. As many times as he replays the memory, he can never get past the feeling of home. With you, it felt like home. You never made him feel expendable, or worry of the abandonment he knew would inevitably come.
For years afterward he blamed you, he saw it as your fault that you left, you abandoned him… when, maybe, really it’s finally time he admits it was him. He made it a self-fulfilling prophecy, and there was nothing you could do.
It's on your way home from work that you see them; while waiting for the bus, there's a playground in the park a few meters away. Really, the idea that human nature is predictable is always laughable at first, but only after watching people and stepping back to become an observer you've noticed from time to time that... it's more than true. Even from a distance, the children in the park look happy... but that's not what catches your eye. There's a blonde boy, and a girl, much like yourself when you were younger, playing what you can only assume is something halfway between hide and seek and tag, considering the playground offers more space and obstacles than hiding spots.
Perhaps it's the joyous looks on their little faces, or the way they unabashedly play, carefree and unaware of the adult worries and burdens the world hangs above their heads, just waiting any day to drop upon their shoulders unexpectedly. However, you can't help but reminisce on the ways you'd spent your childhood playing games much like the one the children are playing in the distance with a boy, very similar to the one before you, loving life, content, happy, simply aspiring to be the best at finding your ultimate hiding spot.
The soft squeak of the wheels coming to a halt before you and the mechanical release of air as the doors open brings your attention back to the present. Before you know it, you're on the bus, unconsciously taking a seat along the windows, hoping, just maybe you'll catch a glimpse of them as the bus drives down the road down its route. Though as you pass, the sun is beginning to set in the distance, the children departing the playground their separate ways as dusk begins to take its toll and curfew sets in place. The whole time you'd been focused on yourself, it's entirely possible that your own boy wound up beating you at your own game, finding the best spot and hiding himself away from the rest of the world.
Maybe it's the fact that you could've sworn you'd seen someone that looked almost identical to Simon on your way to work this morning, but memories continue to plague your mind for the first time in months. All the weekends he'd spent over at your house doing aimlessly silly things to fill your time, from science projects, to playing 'warrior' outside, you never felt more alive than the time you two spent together.
"I'll keep ya safe, yeah? Nothin' to worry about," Simon insists, gently guiding you to the side of the vehicle. Despite going out with your friends to the city for dinner, you both were sober. It should be fine, it would be. You'd been with him a million times... how different could it be? He'd run it by you as many times as you'd asked.
You swear it's not a good idea, but you trust him to the ends of the Earth. With a look over your shoulder, his brown eyes are steady, not uncertain in his unwavering gaze as he nods in assurance. Swinging a leg over the seat, you're in front this time. Helmets in place, hands on the clutch and brakes, you make eye contact with Simon once more before he flicks both your visors down. "Ready?" You ask him.
"More than ready, Love," he quips. With a quick shove to the kickstand, balance (with Simon's help of course), and a rev of the engine, you start the motorcycle off slowly. Gloved hands around your waist, he gives you a gentle squeeze.
He was always pushing you out of your comfort zone, that one. It was the first time you'd driven his motorcycle, and while it'd been scary and daunting for the first fifteen minutes, you eventually got used to it and it blossomed into something freeing. You understood then why he likes it, and you'd never been more grateful for someone pushing you out of your bubble. While flashes of all the kisses, caresses, and intimate moments between the two of you start to effervesce, you force yourself to remember the last time you'd seen him.
With a lingering hug, you're hesitant to let him go. Even if you know it's necessary, it's still hard... it always has been. "You'll let me know when you get in, right?" You ask, searching his eyes. They stand out from the black warpaint, his uniform always made him look handsome, even if you couldn't imagine how intimidating seeing his actual attire would be in his enemies position.
A dismissive and irritated grunt meets your ears as he shrugs your hands off. He'd packed quickly, something he's been doing more recently; taking more and more jobs, you've begun worrying for his health, not that he'd talk about it, of course. "If I 'ave time."
While you weren't able to get all the details on this excursion, you did manage to get that it was essentially a 'clean-up' for him. He had to go in and make sure that the hostages they'd had a lead on were all rescued and no one was left behind, no assailants or informants lingering or hiding. You've known that his job is hard on him. Losing people can't be easy, especially when you feel like you could've done things differently and changed the ending to their stories. Yet, you also know that throwing yourself into work the way he's been doing without talking to anyone, simply managing to pass debrief counseling by whatever meter their measuring is... not working. Not anymore, at least.
"You're running from this! You won't even answ-" you shout, gesticulating as you do everything in your power to keep the anger and worry that's tightly wound wrapped up in your gut under control, not to let anymore of it seep out than already has.
"An' you're one to talk?! You don't get to interrogate me," he argues, rounding the couch to get closer. The dark circles under his eyes scream volumes, even if he's unwilling to acknowledge whatever's going on for him. "I deal with that enough in my line o' work. Don't-"
"Simon," you say, tone holding that familiar warning tone.
You'd gotten home safely and were able to change and make something to eat. The feelings haven't left the cavity of your chest, still lingering there, the way he always does. He may be 'Ghost' on the field, yet he still haunts your memories, always making you question whether or not you did the right thing. What if only you'd done more? What if you hadn't pushed him so much? It wasn't always in a bad way, either, in fact, most of the time you'd find yourself chuckling randomly at some inside joke only the two of you share, or something he'd find funny. The stolen sweaters and hoodies you know for a fact long ago washed away his scent. Even if you swear sometimes that you can smell the faint odor of cigarettes he used to smoke. In the city when you're out with the girls you'd find yourself fondly inhaling the smell whenever a stranger would be smoking one nearby.
You'd cursed him: Simon Riley. Yet, the aching inside you he left often made you feel like he there's some sense of closure he never fully gave you. The SAS would tell you that he'd get your letters, even if you stopped writing years ago a little while after the split. You never got a response, and you never really expected one. Simon never really was one for letter writing. It was the only way you felt like you could get that closure, that part of your life done with. Ultimately, it did help you move on in some way.
A sigh tumbles past your lips as you change the channel on the television, unsure what you really feel like watching. A reality comedy show is on, something of a local prank show. It wasn't the best show, really, but it's one you used to watch a lot as a kid, and thus, another reminder of him. This one makes you smile, nonetheless. It's a good memory; nostalgia envelopes you in the way that makes you crave times that felt easier. Just when you wrap yourself in your fuzzy blanket, there's a soft rapt at the door.
Heart accelerating, eyes widening slightly, you slowly rise from the couch. The television volume isn't on loud, and while there may be light coming from it to inform a stranger you're home, that isn't enough to say that you're alone. With slow and cautious steps, you approach the door, careful to check the window near the door from a vantage point you're unseen. It's a man in a black hoodie. Panic sets in and you turn to skillfully head back toward the couch in search of your phone with quiet and quick steps. That's when it strikes you.
With all pretenses abandoned, you rush to the door and fling it open, lips parted in shock and awe. "Simon?" Searching and attempting to scan the partially shielded face, you're able to see tufts of blonde hair lit from the porch light.
"I know you've no reason to-" he starts, hands removing themselves from his hoodie's pocket, "but please let me come in and explain."
"You came back," you whisper. It's more for yourself than him, and whether it's out of bewilderment, intuitive knowing, or a premonition; you were right.
As he takes a step forward and reaches out for you with shaky hands produced from the familiar black pocket of his hoodie, you don't retract. Slow and tentative movements on both ends, he grabs ahold of one hand, thumb consciously skirting back and forth repeatedly in a form of grounding and seeking comfort. "You were right," his deep voice rasps.
Your hand cautiously seeks his cheek beneath the shield of his hood. Fully expecting to meet the spandex material of his balaclava, you're surprised by the warmth of his skin underneath your gentle touch. Wrist pushing against the cotton hood, it gives way, revealing his face. Searching his deep brown eyes for any sign he's genuine... you're met with truth.
With a weak nod you turn, leaving the door to shut softly behind the two of you.
~~~~~~~
forever taglist: @ohdamnadam , @safarigirlsp , @jynzandtonic , @moonlightsolo
#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#my writing#song fic#taylor swift#cardigan#simon riley x reader angst#angst#angst with a happy ending#simon ghost riley x ex!reader#simon riley x ex!reader#simon riley x cbf!reader#simon ghost riley x cbf!reader#biker!simon riley#song fics
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I Can See You - Hotch x Fem!Reader (one-shot)
I have had the idea for this one-shot ever since this song came out, and I wrote it in the middle of the night in an attempt to stay up and fight jetlag. This is going to be posted quite literally as I am in the airport about to move to a foreign country, so please enjoy.
Summary: You and Hotch start something outside of work that slowly starts to make its way into your on-the-clock time in more risky ways. Based on I Can See You by Taylor Swift.
Warnings: smut 18+, oral (m receiving), semi-public sex, workplace relationships (?) but like in the most disruptive way possible
WC: 2k
'Cause I can see you waitin' down the hall from me
And I could see you up against the wall with me
And what would you do, baby, if you only knew?
That I can see you
The past three months had been filled with what everyone assumed to be the mundane, typical occurrences of amicable coworkers. Passing of paper, catching glances of him from across the room during a briefing, occasionally brushing polyester suit jackets against each other in the elevator. They were insignificant. Or at least that is what everyone thought.
It’s what you wanted them to see. And to be completely honest, it’s what you thought at first too. Why would you possibly think your older, recently divorced boss would be interested in you?
Yet here you were on the BAU jet after a case. He was sitting next to you, both working on some paperwork to officially close the case you had just been working on. You couldn't remember a specific detail from the case.
“Hey, Hotch, how many rounds of ammo did this guy have in his basement again?”
“Enough I think he was doomsday prepping. Local PD was still getting an accurate number when we were leaving. I’ll call them when we land.” His tone was nonchalant enough, you really didn’t think much of it.
An hour later you were at your desk, getting ready to pack up when he came by, close enough that he was brushing your shoulder. He had picked up a pen from your desk and wrote the number down on your documents.
Odd moments like this kept happening. Sometimes he would lean a little closer than usual to show you one of the various drawings Jack made that he had stuck on the fridge. When you asked him for help on some grueling paperwork, your shoulders often touched. You would go to turn in administrative work and instead of putting it in the designated basket on his desk, you handed it directly to him, his fingers brushing yours. If you looked close enough, you could have sworn you saw his ears go a little red.
No one had said anything yet, which filled you partly with relief. Emily and JJ not saying anything was normal. They may be profilers, but they were both pretty good at keeping their noses out of their coworkers’ business. Who wasn’t so good at that was Penelope. If anyone was going to catch on to it, it would be her. And she would say something to you.
The fact that she hadn’t made you feel a little crazy. Were you really just reading too much into things? Were you projecting?
That was until one day after everyone was gone, he asked you to dinner.
You said yes, of course, though partly in the back of your head you wondered if it was more of a friendly coworker ‘well, we are both off and have nothing else to do’ dinner date than a date date. Any concerns of that were crushed when at the door of your apartment he kissed you. You had imagined his lips a few times already, thin and usually in some kind of disapproving frown. They were soft against yours, and you could feel the gentle scratch of his stubble on your chin.
When he pulled away, you expected maybe a form of regret, a look that read ‘what have I done?’ Instead, he just looked hungry for more.
“I know I shouldn’t have,” he says.
“But you did.” And so you gave him more. You both tumbled into your apartment. Your hands were in his hair, his hand was grabbing your ass as he continued to kiss you. You remember making it to the bed, and you remember that he spent the night at your place that night.
After that, work with Aaron looked much like it had the past few months. Business as usual with only stolen moments of tenderness, when your hands touched, his calloused fingers brushed yours for just a moment as he handed you a report and asked you to turn it in at 5:00 before you went home. You didn’t let the team catch the way your eyes linger on him for just a moment longer than what was socially appropriate for co-workers, how your gaze went from his eyes to his lips, usually pressed in a thin line. No one saw how in that cramped elevator, the last part of your morning commute, he would sometimes get closer, let one finger from the hand holding his briefcase curl with your pinkie.
That had been the two of you for the last three months. Professional. You just weren’t sure how much longer you could take professional.
It started out simple enough. You were in his office for a legitimate reason. JJ had been out sick and as the only other person with a communication background, her work fell on you, though you didn’t mind. You were there to hand him a stack of briefings for potential cases, and as he started to flip through them, you casually slipped a hand on top of his thigh, your fingers curling towards his inner thigh, your thumb rubbing circles against the fabric of his pants. You could feel his pulse rise, his sharp intake of breath, see his eyes dart straight toward his door, the blinds that were open. There was a certain thrill in the danger of being caught. “What?” you asked coyly. “Scared of being found out?”
“I’m not-it’s not that.” He was flustered. “We are at work. And your hands are cold.”
“Oh, I am very aware,” you said, abruptly pulling your hand from his and standing straight. “JJ should be back tomorrow, but if you have any other questions on these, just let me know,” you said, continuing on like you hadn’t just turned his face red with a touch or given him an awful boner in the middle of work.
Later that week, you had left your desk to give yourself one more cup of coffee considering you knew you would be working later than usual to finish up some details on a file. You usually go down the hall and sneak into another department’s kitchen to use a couple flavoring syrups. Passing a nook, you felt a hand grab you and pull you back, another hand settling on your lower back as Hotch pulled you into a kiss. Your surprised grunt was muffled by his lips, his teeth nearly busting your lips when they crashed into you.
“What the hell are you doing?” you breathed. “We are at work.”
“This is the only place on this floor besides a janitor's closet that isn’t on camera. And I didn’t exactly think cleaning chemicals gave the most romantic mood.” He said it completely seriously, like he had actually given this thought.
“Wait, how did you know I was even going to be here?”
“You always get a second cup when you are planning to stay past 5:00. And you never get coffee from the BAU’s kitchen. You go down the hall to data science because they have better variety. I just happened to take a break right before you went for a refill, and I happened to be in the one corner that cameras don’t reach.” His tone was matter-of-fact, like he was reading from a textbook rather than the romantic declaration that he actually paid attention to your habits.
“It’s really hot when you pay attention, you know,” you said, reaching up for another kiss, but Hotch pulled back.
“Got to get back to work,” he said, the edge of his lips curled into a know, shit-eating grin. Bastard.
The tipping point came nearly a month later. The two of you had been at this little game ever since, trying to see who could make the other the most flustered, and things were getting progressively more risky. The closest call so far had been when you two thought you were the only ones left for the day, but Morgan had come back to grab his thermos he had left on his desk.
On this day, you were working at your desk when Aaron called you into his office. It wasn’t an occurrence, but something did start to feel off when he asked you to shut the door.
“Lock it for good measure,” he added, moving quite close to you to shut the blinds.
You hardly got his name out of your mouth before he kissed you, nearly banging your body against the door, which clearly would have alerted someone. You found your hand intuitively going around his neck, one cradling his cheek as he kissed you. “What the hell are you doing?” you finally were able to ask between breathless pants.
“You’re driving me crazy.”
“I’ve hardly done anything.”
He pulls away then, pointing towards his desk. “We have five minutes before anyone gets suspicious.” You were already ahead of him, pulling him towards his desk, your hands already reaching for his belt. He was eager to help you, unclasping the buckle in one fell swoop. Even through the lining of his pants you could see his bungle. You wondered how long he had been thinking about doing this all day, thinking of you.
He slid his pants off part of the way, your fingers going to grip him, only his boxer keeping your flesh from touching. He had to be sensitive. Even just the friction from your hand and the fabric made him hum in approval. “If we are going to do this, you are going to need to keep quiet,” you said. Your hands moved from his crotch to his neck, unlacing his tie with ease. Haphazardly bundling it up, you shoved the mess of fabric into his mouth to shut him up.
“Wait,” you heard him say, having removed the makeshift gag. He shook his arms out of his suit jacket, taking the most surely expensive coast and folding it, placing it on the ground. It took you a moment to realize what he was getting out, but you started to understand when he happily put the gag back in his mouth. Kindly, he had made his jacket into a cushion for your knees so you could be comfortable while sucking him off and making him scream. And you planned to do just that.
Your fingers gripped the elastic of his boxers, pulling them down and freeing his dick. Spitting in your hand, you began to run your hand along the length of him, slowly, oh so agonizingly slowly. From the corner of your eye, you could see the way he gripped the edge of his desk, practically begging you to go a little faster, use a little more pressure. You kept up the facade for a bit, listening to his near desperate hums before placing your lips on the tip, running your tongue along it and hearing his muffled groan in response.
You started to move your hand a little faster, your tongue picking up the place along with it. You loved to see the way his knuckles went white, the way he was gripping the desk for dear life.
“Please,” you heard his muffled whimper.
“I’m sorry, dear, what was that?” you asked from your position below him.
Quickly, he ripped out his gag, one hand still gripping the desk as he said, “For the love of god, please stop tormenting me.”
You were happy to oblige him, beginning to move your hand up and down as well as flicking your tongue along his tip, feeling the muscles in his thigh and his abdomen tense and clench before he finally released. At the last second, he muffled his cry with the tie, nearly sinking back into the desk as you wiped himself from your lips.
Standing and brushing your knees off, you motioned to the door. “Put your pants on so I can get the hell out of here and hope no one noticed.”
He took a moment to compose himself, tucking his shirt back in and trying his best to straighten out his tie. He opened the blinds and unlocked the door, sending you on your way with a simple, “Please make sure those are on my desk before the end of the day.”
You were certain he was planning on returning the favor.
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#criminal minds#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner fanfiction#hotch#song fic#based on a taylor swift song#aaron hotchner smut#hotch smut#hotch x fem!reader smut#criminal minds smut#criminal minds fanfic
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Love To Hate
Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Reader (fem, afab, she/her)
Category: enemies to lovers, smut, coworkers to lovers
Summary: You hate Dieter Bravo more than anything. So why are you asking him to sleep with you?
Warnings: 18+, smut (!!), protected p in v sex, f receiving oral, brief vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, thigh riding/grinding, groping, kissing, body worship (he loves tits and ass), dirty talk, praise, size kink (??), Dieter has a horse cock, crying, Dieter’s a teasing dick, enemies to lovers, coworkers to lovers, insecurities, sex/masturbation problems (for reader), mentions of unsatisfactory sex, mentions of drug use, reader is shorter than Dieter, let me know if I missed anything!
Word count: 8.8k (woah!)
A/N: I have a series in mind for this so the story between these two could continue. But for now it works as a standalone. Enjoy!
Consider buying me a coffee :)
There was no one in the world you disliked more than Dieter Bravo. It was a shame that he knew you better than anyone else ever had.
The two of you had had the unfortunate experience of always ending up in the same place. It had started during a chemistry read for a movie a few years back. Neither of you had ended up getting the job but it was undeniable that there was chemistry between you. Just not the kind of chemistry needed to play lovers on screen. Let's just say that you'd gotten off on the wrong foot and had never really recovered from it.
Next you'd both attended a charity event together, the both of you somehow being the star beneficiaries of the evening. The night included a lot of strained smiles, forced conversation and fake laughter.
Then there'd been the year long shoot you'd both winded up on for some up and coming director who'd begged for the both of you to appear in his movie, the promises of awards from every inch of the world for the both of you afterwards. And when award season came around, it turned out he was right. Awards did come flooding in. But for Dieter. Not you. It didn't help that you had to see the smug actor give the same speech at every ceremony as he graciously accepted the accolades.
And with that came the press junkets and the rounds of interviews, panels, and question and answer sessions. You pretty much saw Dieter Bravo every single day for almost two years. And the distaste for him never really went away. Sadly, this meant that he came to know the ins and outs of your life. Dieter could recite your schedule, list every single detail of your close friends and family's lives and could read your emotions like an open book. He knew you well. Too well. And he used this to his advantage.
And here you were again. On another movie with him. Somehow. You didn't know how it'd come to be as you'd made your agent swear never to put you in a project with him again. But shit happens.
After weeks of endless negotiations about budget, you'd finally arrived on set for rehearsals and table reads and the director had already warned that you were behind schedule. Shooting hadn't even started yet and you were already regretting it.
It didn't help when you'd been told that the hotel room that had been provided for you by the production company was right next to Dieter's. When you'd gotten there, you'd just stared at your shared wall for ten minutes and wondered how sound proof it was. You knew his reputation, had witnessed it even, and didn't fancy the sleepless nights if he was bringing someone new back to his room every night for the foreseeable future.
When you arrived for day one of table reads, you rushed around introducing yourself to everyone. You weren't the most sociable person ever, funny considering your career choice, and avoided one particular person whose gaze followed you around the room the whole time.
It was impossible not to feel his eyes on you. When Dieter's dark brown eyes latched onto a target, he wouldn't let go until he had his claws sunk in. In your case, it was different. He didn't view you as someone to sleep with but someone to torment with his presence instead.
You managed to successfully ignore him until your over enthusiastic director, Rodney, felt the need to introduce the two of you despite him knowing that the two of you already knew each other.
You looked up at Dieter, preparing yourself for the worst. His eyes looked clearer than usual, not as glazed over. You figured he'd been to rehab recently and was temporarily sober. That happened often. But never lasted long.
"Hi." You nodded up at him, brushing off the director's superficial nonsense that he'd spouted in attempt to make the two of you sudden best friends.
Dieter didn't return the greeting. "How're your parents?"
Small talk was meaningless between the two of you. Dieter knew everything about you. Everything. He'd met your parents on more than one occasion at different after parties, wrap parties, even on set once or twice. You hated to say that your mother loved him and your father liked him more than anyone else you'd ever introduced him to in this industry.
"Fine. Grandparents now." You replied, watching Rodney ease himself out of the conversation and wander off.
"Sister and her husband finally managed to conceive, huh?" He asked and you nodded in response despite the weird way he'd worded it. "You're an aunt. Cute."
"Yeah. How're you?" You sighed and looked over his shoulder, wondering how long it would take before the snappy responses started between the two of you.
He smirked. "Good."
"Good." You cleared your throat. "I hear that we're neighbours."
"Hm, lucky me."
Your eyes snapped back to his, not quite getting the tone in his voice. "Try to keep the noise down."
The smirk on his face was punchable. "I'll try my best."
You scoffed. "Yeah, okay."
Suddenly, you were swept away by other cast and crew members who were just dying to meet you. That was strange. You were used to people wanting to meet Dieter. But, as you found out from someone on the makeup team, you were the hot commodity on this set. A sense of pride filled your bones at the sound of that.
The days flew by. Table reads were completed, along with a few spontaneous rehearsals. You avoided Dieter at all costs, trying not to interact with him if you weren't reciting words from a script. And it was going pretty well. Except for the nights.
The walls were apparently extremely thin in the hotel you were staying in, just as you’d feared. You knew this how exactly? By the very clear sex sounds that would practically shake the wall you shared with Dieter. Moans, groans, a squeaking bed, a rattling headboard, the occasional scream even. It was torture. And you could do nothing apart from bury your head under a pillow. Unless you developed the confidence to go knocking on his door to tell him to cut it out. Which you didn't.
It didn't escape your notice that he was clearly accompanied by a new person every night, the tones of their noises changing each time. It also didn't escape you that Dieter was clearly very good in bed. If the sounds of his partners were any indication at least. They all seemed very enthusiastic to be in his company.
You grew used to it after a few days. Mainly because you had to. There was no point losing sleep over something you already knew about Dieter. He liked sex. A lot. And he had a reputation for a reason. It just pissed you off that you had to hear it. And that it seemed to come so easily to him...
It was devastating news to you when the director told you that the first day of shooting was going to be one of the sex scenes of the movie. You'd initially attempted to persuade him to move it later into the production but he had insisted that there was no need for that. The years of you and Dieter knowing, and hating, each other had been enough to build the chemistry needed for the movie. All the sexual tension was apparently already there. You’d disagreed with that last point.
When the day finally came, you were tense. More tense than usual anyway. The only thing reassuring you was the meeting you'd had with the intimacy coordinator who had told you that every detail you'd told her, everything that you didn't want to happen, would be implimented to make you as comfortable as possible.
You'd been placed in a bed, naked from the waist up and you had been there alone for longer than you should've been. After so many years you shouldn't be surprised that Dieter was late. It was sort of his specialty. The fact that this was the first day of shooting was mildly annoying however.
When he finally appeared in nothing but his underwear and a robe, the latter of which he shed as soon as he saw you waiting for him in the bed, he sent half hearted apologies to everyone in the room. When he got to you the apology was a lot more sarcastic. "And I am eternally sorry for keeping you waiting, sweeheart."
"Whatever." You rolled your eyes and let your head fall back against the pillow, teeth clenching at the sound of the pet name he’d gifted you all those years ago when you’d first met.
Dieter grinned at the reaction and crawled on top of you after both the director and the intimacy coordinator had instructed him of the positioning they wanted. His legs were between yours, an elbow on either side of your head to keep him slightly elevated so he wasn't leaning all of his body weight on you.
You avoided his eyes, having him hovering over you like this with your tits out was embarrassing. Especially when his own bare chest was so close to rubbing against yours.
Dieter lowered his head so his lips brushed against the shell of your ear. "Don't look so tense. It's okay. You're gorgeous and I won't look if you don't want me to."
That surprised you. What surprised you even more is that he looked genuine when he pulled back to meet your eyes again.
You shook your head. "It's fine."
The director suddenly cursed loudly. "Dieter, relax! We're having some issues with the mics so just do whatever for a minute."
"Sure thing, boss!" Dieter called back, sitting up and pulling the blankets up to cover you in the process. "So you don't get cold."
You sat up and clutched the blanket over your chest. "Thanks."
It was freaking you out with how nice he was being. Dieter Bravo was anything but a gentleman. Yet here he was... being almost chivalrous.
And then he winked at you. "Nice rack by the way."
Yeah, okay, you expected him to ruin it.
"Charming, Bravo. Really." You snapped.
"Just stating facts." He shrugged.
You frowned at him and looked away.
"Hey." His voice was soft.
You looked back at him.
"Sorry, it was a joke." His brown eyes were wide and apologetic.
You ran your tongue over your teeth, aggravation rippling through you. "It's fine."
He shook his head, curls bouncing against his forehead. "No, it's not. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."
Your frown deepened. "Isn't it your life's mission to irritate me?"
He grinned. "Irritate you? Yes. Make you uncomfortable at work? No."
Before you had the chance to reply, the microphones were fixed and the two of you were instructed to get back into places. You both settled back into position, a sigh escaping you. It was difficult to believe that this was the first thing you were filming. Not even the conversation leading up to this particular section of the scene. You questioned the director's choices.
"Right, so we know what we're doing, yeah?" Rodney called to you both.
You nodded but Dieter raised his hand like he had a question.
"I can't remember. Are we touching tits or not?"
The intimacy coordinator looked towards you for a moment for confirmation before nodding. "Yes. Touching breasts is fine, Dieter."
He hummed in acknowledgment before looking back at you as he flexed his fingers and rolled his wrists. "Gotta get the circulation going so my hands aren't too cold. Don't want your nipples freezing off."
You stared back up at him in slight shock. "That would be unfortunate, yes."
He smiled and pressed the backs of his fingers to your cheek. "That temperature okay?"
"Not nipple freezing cold."
Just maybe nipple hardening cold.
You pushed the thought from your head and gave him a nod to assure him that it was fine. "Let's just get this started."
He laughed at your clear disdain of the situation and looked towards the small group of crew members to give them the go ahead.
It went pretty smoothly. All the technology continued to work for the rest of the scene luckily and neither you nor Dieter messed up too much to call for reshoots. You simply just gave each other a lot of open mouthed, but tongueless, kisses with no emotion behind them whatsoever and made noises of satsifaction in all the right places as he groped at you gently but confidently. It was a surprisingly simple day of shooting. The director had decided that this would be all you did for the first day, wanting a few good angles that would take up a lot of time, and didn't want to push you into doing more than necessary.
When lunch rolled around, you grabbed a salad from the catering tent outside and took a seat on a table by yourself. You wanted a few moments of peace to relax before you got back into the swing of shooting. The peace was short lived as your least favourite person took a seat directly opposite you, a sandwich on his plate.
You stared at him with scorn. "I wasn't aware we did lunch together."
Dieter looked back at you amused. "Well, considering that I've felt you up now, I thought it was only fitting to grace you with my presence over a lovely meal." His eyes lowered to your salad. "Why the fuck did you get that?"
You poked at the sad plate in front of you with your fork. "It was the only thing that looked remotely fresh."
He looked at his own food. "I do have to say that my sandwich looks a few days old."
"Days?" You gasped. "Try decades!"
Dieter scoffed. "Well, some of us can't afford to eat a salad. Some of us are trying to maintain our physiques."
He was referencing the so-called dad bod he'd developed over the last few years. People loved it. His cheeks were fuller than they used to be, somehow making his dimples more pronounced when he smiled, and his stomach was now softer. It was hot. That was for sure. You held your own quiet appreciation for the way he looked. But that wasn't something you would ever voice to him. Not in a million years.
"Maybe some carbs would make you loosen up." He added on, frowning down at his sandwich now that you'd both acknowledged how it most definitely hadn't been made that day. "Get that stick out your ass."
Something in you snapped at that. You did not have a stick up your ass. You did not need to loosen up. So you did the thing you'd told yourself you wouldn't. You decided to confront him.
You played it cool at first. "How long have we known each other?"
He looked back up at you, eyes squinted in confusion. "A long time. Too long even. Why?"
"Would it be acceptable for me to ask you for a small favour?" You stirred your salad with the fork, not easily done, in an attempt to seem nonchalant.
That caught his attention, giving you his full focus as his head tilted to the side slightly. "That depends on what this small favour is."
"When you have... fun time with your... friends could you play some music? Or better yet, go back to their place? Walls are thin." You hated the words that came out of your mouth. Why didn't you just say sex? Too late now.
His eyebrows quirked at your strange terminology. "When I what?"
"You know." You waved your hand, determined to stick with it now.
"Have sex? Fuck? Bang? Screw?" He asked and you nodded. "Come on, we're both adults. You can say sex to my face. Especially since you've heard it apparently."
Your brows pushed together unhappily. "Fine. When you have sex."
"Only if you promise to play music when you fail to get yourself off when you masturbate." He finally took a bite of his sandwich and immediately grimaced.
Your heart dropped down to your stomach. "What?"
He smirked, knowing he had you. "Walls are thin. You're loud. And frustrated."
"You hear me?" You knew the walls were thin. You didn't know that they were that thin. You always tried to stay as quiet as possible.
Dieter prodded at his sandwich with his finger a final time before pushing it away. "It'd be pretty hard not to. Maybe I should introduce you to one of my friends. To help you, I mean."
"Wouldn't work." You mumbled, not really for him to hear.
His interest was piqued further. "Oh, so a full orgasm mental block then?"
You clenched your teeth together. "I hate you."
"Unfortunate considering I'm the only person capable of reading you like an open book." He grinned at you, fully sarcastic. "Hmm, maybe that's what you need actually."
"What?"
"Someone capable of reading you like a book. To see what's really working, or not working, for you." He looked you up and down quickly.
You scoffed. "You better not be suggesting what I think you're suggesting."
His voice dipped down in both volume and tone. "You know I'd be better than anyone else you've ever had. You've heard my work. I'm exceptional and come highly recommended."
You looked away from him. "That's not funny, Dieter."
"You're sexually frustrated?"
You huffed. "Yes. Very."
"And I'm good at sex and know you better than anyone. Is it not a reasonable conclusion?" He threw his hands in the air as if to emphasise how obvious the solution should be.
"You're ridiculous." You hissed, pushing up from the table and storming away. You hated him. Despised him.
"The orgasms would make you feel better." He called after you.
You didn't fail to notice the use of the plural - orgasms.
Luckily for you the rest of the day consisted of close ups of just you sprawled on the bed. No Dieter needed. But you didn't fail to notice how he hovered around the set anyway and observed. His brown eyes burned into your skin for the remainder of filming.
When you were done, you retreated to your dressing room and got dressed as quickly as you could. A car was called at your request and you were back in your hotel room ordering room service before anyone even had the opportunity to invite you out for drinks to celebrate the first day of filming.
You needed to be alone. For many reasons, including the fact that you just liked your solitude. But the biggest one, the reason that had been plaguing your mind since it had been suggested to you, was the idea of sleeping with Dieter. Not being able to believe yourself at how utterly ridiculous it was, but you were seriously considering it.
You knew he was good in bed. The sex noises you'd heard through the wall didn't lie. But he was the one person in the world that you disliked more than anyone else you had ever met. So why was the idea of it playing around in your head so much?
When you heard Dieter's own hotel room door close, you were surprised that he seemed to be alone. Abnormal. For him at least. But you ignored it.
And you ignored the ache between your legs that was bothering you as you showered and changed into your pyjamas. You ignored the way your heart hammered in your chest as you crawled under the bedsheets. You ignored the fact that you wide awake after two hours of attemtping to fall asleep.
Well... you ignored it for another thirty minutes before you sighed to yourself and got out of bed, grabbed your room key and tiptoed to your co-star's room. You knocked once quietly and received no answer. So you knocked again, louder and more impatient this time. After a few seconds his door swung open with the quietest of creaks but loud enough to still make you wince. You weren't doing anything wrong technically but the idea of anyone finding out about this made your stomach churn.
Dieter stood there, rumpled from bed, and looked down at you confused. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he mumbled a gravelly question. "Why're you here?"
You hesitated which caught his attention, suddenly sobering up from fatigue and looking more concerned.
"You okay?”
Your jaw ticked with nerves. Fuck it, what did you have to lose? "Your offer."
"My offer?" He looked more confused than before, obviously not recalling your previous conversation.
You sighed, frustratedly. "Yes. About sleeping with you."
He blinked rapidly a couple of times. "I was only teasing. I'm sorry if I offended you-"
You interrupted him before he could go any further and ruin what confidence you'd managed to build up. "No, I'm here to take you up on it."
Dieter said nothing which was not a good sign. He loved to talk, especially to annoy you. Silence meant something bad.
"You were right. I'm sexually frustrated and can't get off. By myself or with anyone." You whispered harshly. "I think you're attractive and you're my best hope at finding out whether I'm just broken or something else is going on."
He looked down at you with softened eyes. Pity. You didn't want his pity. "I don't-"
You cut him off again. "Please."
He paused and then nodded, opening the door wider. "Okay."
You pushed past him. "No one ever finds out about this and we never talk about it again. Is that clear?"
"Crystal." He closed and locked the door behind the two of you. "For the record, I was going to say that I don't think you're broken."
"We'll determine that after you, hopefully, manage to make me come." You planted your hands on your hips.
His eyes raked over you. "You're too stressed. You're not used to casual, are you?"
"No, I can do casual with people I don't know and who definitely don't know me. And you know me too well, Dieter. So, yeah, I'm stressed. Because this-" You gestured between the two of you. "-isn't casual."
"Relax. I'm sure I'll be able to figure out what makes you tick." He smirked, sauntering closer. "I already know what you don't like."
You flinched at that statement. "How?"
"Had a very long conversation with the intimacy coordinator about what was off-limits. Apparently you had a list." A real smile broke across his face as he reached up to pull your hands from your hips, plucking your room key from your fingers and tossing it onto the vanity, before tracing his own fingers across your arms.
Heat prickled the surface of your skin. "Oh."
"Don't look so embarrassed." His hands got to your shoulders and rested there, forcing them down to relax. "Although, you could've told me yourself."
"And have you tease me? No thanks." You scoffed, looking away from him.
He hummed lowly in the back of his throat. "I like to tease you, yes. But I never want to make you feel uncomfortable. Not like that anyway and especially not at work. I told you this."
Your gaze darted back to him, to see if he was being genuine. He was.
Your eyebrows pulled up in uncertainty. "You confuse me."
"I know." His teeth sunk into his bottom lip as he looked you up and down. "You confuse me too."
"How?"
His hands slid up to your neck, warm palms engulfing you. "Coming to me begging to have sex despite claiming to loathe me."
You briefly snapped out of the atmosphere he'd created with his touch and pulled back from him. "I'm not begging."
"I was joking, sweetheart. I'm sorry. You don't have to beg me for this anyway." He tugged you closer to him again.
"What do you mean?" You moved more into his hold.
He chuckled, one hand lowering to circle around your waist and dipping his head to trace the lines of your neck with the tip of his nose. "Nothing. I'm just talking to calm you and make you more pliant."
Your eyelids fluttered shut. "Touch my tits with your icicle hands again and I'm sure we'll get there eventually."
He laughed louder at that, one hand cupping your cheek as he pulled back to look at you. "Are they really that cold?"
"They were earlier. Now they're warmer." You pressed your cheek into his palm, eyes closing at the feeling.
"Leaning on them for too long fucks up my blood flow." He explained, swiping his thumb across your skin. "You're so pretty."
Your eyes shot open to meet his at that. You'd never seen him look so sincere. You'd also never felt the desire to kiss him before. Until now. "Please kiss me." You curled your fists into the front of his shirt and pulled him down to meet your eyeline.
His forehead pushed against yours. "You sure you want this?"
"Positive."
He took that and pressed his lips against yours, soft and tender, barely there. And pulled back again to gauge your reaction.
"More." You whispered, hands sliding up to thread into the hair on the back of his head.
He hummed lowly, a flicker of a smile on his face before he kissed you again. This time it was firmer and held more purpose. You'd never noticed before but Dieter smelt nice. It was comforting as he drew you into his chest, arms wrapped tightly around you. The kisses grew more heated, moving from a few pecks to being open mouthed and longer. He was a good kisser, you begrudgingly noted. Good for now but the part of you that hated him disliked that he was also gifted at this. When his tongue slid into your mouth and pressed up against yours, you tensed up. It wasn't unpleasant. Just a bit of a shock to the system.
Dieter pulled back to look down at you. "Relax. I'll look after you, I promise. Believe me?"
"Yes." You whispered and pulled him back towards you. No one had ever kissed you like this. Dieter understood you. He felt the way your muscles would shift when he did something you didn't like and would immediately pull back, quickly assess the situation and find something else you preferred. His hands lingered in places that made you feel good, kissed you enough so you felt wanted but not too much to overwhelm you. You'd never felt so safe with someone before.
And you never could have imagined the feeling that was swirling around inside you at the notion that he was touching you, kissing you. This was Dieter Bravo. The man you'd hated for years. And yet here he was, making you feel things you'd never felt before this moment. Sure, you'd acknowledged the fact that he was an attractive man when you'd first met him. But the idea of being attracted to him had never crossed your mind until recently. Very recently. It just didn't seem possible.
His hands slid down to your ass, palming the flesh there as he groaned into your mouth at the feeling. It was nice to know that he was enjoying this as well. He crowded you against him, seeming to take an impossible step closer to you.
He broke away from you momentarily. "Trust me?"
"Yes." You nodded slowly, dazed by the fact that it was true. You did trust him. With this at least anyway.
He smiled against your lips at that. "Do you want control or do you want me to take care of you?"
You pondered it for a moment. You didn't even know where you'd start with this. With him. It was an overwhelming thought. Which is why your answer was so natural.
"Take care of me please."
His responding smile was easy, soothing, as he directed you backwards towards the bed until your legs hit the frame.
"We're going to take this slow, okay? So try to have some patience." He cupped your face in his large hands, looking at you seriously.
You huffed. "I can be patient. As long as it's worth my time."
He laughed and kissed you quickly. "I'll make this worth your time."
You giggled against his mouth. "You're very confident in your abilities."
"As are you considering you're here asking me to make you come." He moved to place an open mouthed kiss on your jaw, teeth scraping against your skin. "Get on the bed."
It took a lot of self restraint for Dieter to stop himself from just picking you up and throwing you on the bed. But he promised himself he'd be gentle with you, giving you some power over the situation. After all, you'd asked him to take care of you. So that's exactly what he was going to do.
He didn't need to ask you twice by the seems of it anyway since you dropped onto the bed at his request, bouncing a couple of times before pulling your legs up and sliding yourself backwards towards the pillows. Dieter smothered a gleeful grin at how suddenly eager you seemed to be. Your enthusiam should only help your orgasm problem, as long as he got you to ease up a lot more. You were such a tense person. He tasked himself with rectifying that.
Climbing onto the bed and sitting up on his knees, Dieter looked at you breathing heavily, chest heaving as you waited for him to get closer. He couldn't quite tell if you were anxious or just turned on. He fell forward onto his hands and crawled to you, pushing you onto your back as he moved over you.
Gaze moving towards the way your breasts were straining against your sleep shirt with every inhale, he let a question roll around in his head for a couple of seconds before just deciding to ask it. "On a scale of one to ten, how horny would you say you are right now?"
Your mouth dropped open, that was the last thing you expected him to say with the way his pupils had blown wide as he stared at your chest. "A six. Maybe a seven."
He only grunted in response.
"It might be higher. I can't tell. I'm pretty nervous."
Ah, so anxiety was playing a factor in your breathing rate. Good to know, Dieter thought.
"Let's fix that." He rasped before kissing you again, not hesitating this time to let his tongue roam your mouth. He found he liked the way your legs seemed to automatically wrap around him and pull him closer over you so you were chest to chest.
Your arms wound around his neck, one hand carding through his hair. The two of you barely broke away for breath, the only sound in the room being those of your lips colliding and separating. You were surprised to find how long he kissed you without doing anything else. Most guys would be insisting on getting into your pants right about now. But Dieter hadn't done anything more than grope at your ass, and that had been when you were still standing up.
You liked kissing. Liked it a lot. Especially when the person you were kissing was good at it and seemed to enjoy it as much as you did. So this was nice. Just kissing. You hadn't kissed someone for this long since you were a teenager and still a virgin when making out seemed like the most exciting thing in the world.
You let your hands roam Dieter a little more, allowing them to drift down his back and smooth back up across his shoulders. He was so broad, you realised. How had you never realised how big he was before? He was taller than you, sure. But you had never noticed the sheer size of him before. He was broad shouldered and had large hands. It sent a pulse to your core.
He made you squeal in surprise when he managed to wrap his arms around and underneath you and flipped the two of you so you were on your sides, legs tangled together and not an inch of space between you. Despite the lack of room, you still found yourself pushing into him even more. He encouraged this by gliding a hand to the small of your back and pressing you against him. He groaned into your mouth when your pelvis moved against his, rubbing against his hard on.
Instead of pursuing that like you assumed he would, he grabbed your thigh and hooked your leg over his waist so your clothed pussy pushed against the muscle of his thigh. He could feel the heat of you through two layers of clothing, both your sleep shorts and his own pants. Then his hand slipped over to your ass where he squeezed, causing a gasp to rattle out of you into his mouth, and rocked your hips against his thigh. You felt your clit grinding against him and whined at the feeling it made ripple through you.
"Mm, good girl." He whispered against your lips and rocked you against him again.
It felt good. Better than you expected it to. So you picked up the pace yourself, letting his hand guide you as you ground yourself against his thigh desperately. The sensation was slowly building, very slowly, but it was definitely there. You didn't have the brain capacity to think about the potential orgasm sneaking up on you though as Dieter kept kissing you, despite it becoming messier as you couldn't hold back the noises he was drawing out of you. It became a simple clash of lips and tongues, teeth clacking together every few seconds, as you sought out the feeling you craved.
But it became obvious after a little while longer that it was hopeless.
You pulled back from him frustrated and let out a sound of disappointment as you pressed your forehead into his chest. "It's no use- I can't-"
"Hey, hey, hey." He cut you off, placing a finger under your chin to make you look up at him. "Don't give up now. It was close, I know it. We'll just rework and go with a different angle, okay?"
A part of you wanted to run away and forget this whole thing, hoping he wouldn't hold this against you in the future. You couldn't imagine the teasing material Dieter would come up with if he knew the fact that you couldn't come and had run away after failing to get off with him.
But the way he was looking at you, so warm and kind, had you rethinking that. This was so unlike him. So you just nodded at him.
He returned the nod, a smile on his face. "Okay. So, that felt good, didn't it?" He didn't need you to agree. The sounds you were making told him enough. "So we'll slow down and keep going from there."
You didn't exactly know what he meant by that but decided to just carry on following his lead anyway. Delighted when he kissed you again, you whimpered against his mouth as his hand returned to your ass and rocked your hips over his thigh again. But this time more gently. He kept doing that for a while, never letting the speed of it increase. And the sensation from before built steadily. You stayed calm and didn't let it overtake you, allowing Dieter to have control over the situation.
He let the sounds coming from your throat tell him when to move on to the next step. Slowly he rolled the two of you over so you were on your back again, breaking away from your mouth to start kissing down the length of your body.
You raised your head to look at him. "What are you doing?"
"I'm going down on you." He said casually, finger tracing along the buttons of your shirt. "Can I take this off?"
You nodded, watching as he unfastened each button unhurriedly and sat up to help him slide it from your shoulders. "You don't have to do that. I know a lot of guys don't like that."
His head snapped up to meet your eyes, looking as if you'd just shot him. "Who the fuck have you been sleeping with?" He asked with disgust, hands landing on your chest and immediately kneading the flesh of your tits.
Your mouth dropped open at the feeling, head dropping back onto the pillows. "Guys not worth my time apparently."
"You're right about that." Dieter mumbled, flicking his tongue over one of your nipples. "I happen to love eating pussy."
"Noted." You sighed, toes curling as he sucked the nipple into his mouth.
After spending a considerable amount of time worshipping your chest, including lots of babbling about how fucking soft you were, Dieter finally decided to carry on with his journey downwards. He tugged at the string of your sleep shorts, ribbon unravelling and leaving the waistband loose.
He glanced up at you with the silent question of asking permission to take the shorts off which you nodded at. He smirked and slid them down your legs with the aid of you arching yourself up to help him, pleased when he saw you weren’t wearing panties. The smirk grew into a smile that could only compared to that of the Cheshire Cat when he saw how wet you were.
"All this from just rubbing yourself against my thigh. Lucky me."
"Don't make fun of me." You grumbled, glaring at him.
He tutted, pushing your thighs apart to get a better look. "I'm not, sweetheart, I promise. I can't wait to taste you."
You had no time to reply as he rubbed a thumb across you, spreading your arousal across your slit and up to your clit where he circled a couple of times. Flattening himself onto his stomach so his face was level with your pussy, Dieter placed a tentative lick on your clit. When a broken cry escaped you, he took it as a sign to keep going. Licking a long stripe up, gathering your wetness on his tongue, Dieter let out a moan of his own. You tasted better than he anticipated. It was going to take a lot for him to not bury his face against you and suffocate himself.
Instead he chose to lick against your clit a couple more times, liking the way your back arched up off the bed at the feeling. Slowly, he sucked the bundle of nerves into his mouth and revelled at the strangled whimper that left you, a hand flying into his hair to pull him closer. Dieter groaned as you tugged on the brown strands. Focusing on your clit for a while, he chose to test something else. He slid a finger into you, feeling your thighs tense on either side of his head. And not in a good way. So he removed the finger and chose to continue just suckling on your clit instead.
You weren't quite there yet and that was okay. He was fine with using just his mouth and tongue for the moment. You started writhing under him anyway, which was a good sign in his mind, so he flattened a hand over your stomach to keep you still.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck." You gasped, pulling on his hair even harder. You were close, moving to the brink with every move Dieter made, and you both knew it.
Dieter just wondered what would get you there. He could see out of the corner of his eye that the hand that wasn't in his hair was grasping at the sheets beneath you. So he reached out to take it in his. And so with one of his hands on your stomach to keep you still and one of yours looped through his hair, the free hands that each of you had finding each other and linking, fingers lacing together, that was all it took to have you crashing over the edge.
Your thighs trembled on either side of his head as you practically screamed his name, hand pushing his face into you as your hips moved against him of their own accord. The orgasm pulsed through you, seeming almost never ending, as Dieter crawled back up the length of your body and placed kisses all over your face.
When you finally returned back down to Earth, you opened your eyes and blinked up at him. You couldn’t believe he’d managed it. "You are fucking good at this."
He shook his head and chuckled. "That was the easy part. What's next is the real test."
"Easy- next- what?" You were beyond confused. He'd made you come. His task was complete. What was he talking about?
"The majority of women get off easier with oral. Penetrative sex isn't as likely to make a woman come." He explained, sitting up and reaching off the side of the bed to open a drawer in his nightstand and retrieve a condom. "These are cherry flavoured, is that okay? Or do you have an allergy to flavoured lube? Shit, or a latex allergy?"
You swallowed thickly. "You're going to fuck me? Like actually fuck me?"
"Look at you managing to say fuck. Big turn around from fun time or whatever shit you said to me this afternoon." He shook his head as he chuckled. "But yes, sweetheart. I am going to fuck you. Unless you don't want me to. And in that case I'll have to politely ask you to excuse me so I can go jerk off in the bathroom. But I think it'll be nice. Another orgasm never hurts."
The two of you held eye contact for a moment as he waited for you to respond. The idea of another orgasm had you wanting more.
"No allergies to flavoured lube or latex here." You said, reaching out to grab at his t-shirt to pull him over you again.
"I'm so glad to hear that because this is all I've got." He breathed against your mouth before kissing you.
Your hands slid to the hem of his t-shirt, sliding it up slowly and over his head when he broke away from you momentarily to take it off. Your hands immediately landed on his chest, nails raking down his torso onto his stomach and then your fingers hooked into his waistband. Dieter gave you the go ahead to tug the pants down with a low hum and kicked them off his feet without pulling away from your mouth for a second.
You didn't need to look to know that Dieter was big considering all of him was suddenly pressed up against you. You found it fascinating to know that the rumours of him being hung like a horse were, in fact, very true.
You broke away from the kiss when you felt the full length of him hot and heavy against your stomach. "Fuck me, you're huge."
Dieter looked down between your bodies. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before. "Thanks."
You met his eyes again. "I somehow hate you even more now."
He just burst out into laughter. Now that was new.
"It's not fair that you're good at eating pussy and also have a horse cock. A guy should only have one of those assets. Having both is like having too much power." You groaned, reaching down to take him in your hand.
His laughter abruptly cut off at the feeling of your fingers wrapping around him, head dropping down to meet your shoulder. "Fuck, think it's time to be inside you now."
"That'd be good." You mumbled, watching him as he pushed up onto his knees and ripped the condom open, rolled it down onto his himself with ease and pumped his dick a couple times. The last part was unnecessary considering he was rock hard and not softening anytime soon without coming.
Dieter grabbed the tops of your thighs and used them as leverage to pull you towards him so the two of you aligned. Taking his length in his fist, he slapped the tip against your clit a few times before sliding it up and down your slit, combining the cherry lube with the wetness left behind by your previous orgasm. Notching himself at your entrance, he made eye contact with you for one last bit of confirmation. When he found it, he pushed into you.
He slid in easier than expected, the two of you sighing deeply at the feeling as he leaned over you again. He pulled out slowly after a moment, the clench of your walls making him shudder, and then thrust back in again.
"Does that feel good?" He asked you, needing to check in.
Your legs wrapped around him, forcing him in even deeper somehow. "Fuck yes."
"I'm glad. Because this is heavenly for me." He told you, taking your pleasured expression as an invitation to set up a steady pace. Nothing too fast otherwise he'd be finishing this earlier than he wanted to, but enough to make the both of you feel good.
But you were impatient. "Dieter, faster."
"Sweetheart, if I go any faster then I'm going to blow my load prematurely and I really don't want that. And I’m sure you don’t either."
"I thought you were a veteran at this. Should be able to last longer than two minutes." You quipped back.
He huffed out a laugh. "I was close to jizzing in my pants when we were making out so trust me when I say this is overwhelmingly good for me right now. Besides, gotta make you orgasm again first."
With that statement, he slid a hand between your bodies and rubbed tight circles onto your clit, completely out of pace with the way he was moving in and out of you. The discrepancy between the two sensations had your brain going haywire and you clutched at his face to get him to kiss you again. He groaned into your mouth when you clenched around him again, finally moving a little faster.
As much as Dieter wanted to go slow with you, he could feel how much you craved more. So he picked up the pace and went a little harder, pausing momentarily when the headboard hit the wall and you let out a delighted noise at the sound.
"Oh, you like that?" He asked, mouth dropping open when you nodded rapidly. "Yeah?"
"Yes, Dieter. Oh, my god, yes." You gasped, nails clawing at his shoulders with the need to hold onto something.
"Dirty fucking girl, liking the headboard slamming against the wall." He realised something. "You could hear it when I was in here with other people, couldn't you?"
You could do nothing but confess. "Yes, oh my- fuck!" You were cut off by your own expletive as he rammed back into you, hitting a spot that no one else had even come close to reaching before.
"Wanted to get it as good, huh?" He asked, digging his fingers into the flesh of your thighs as the pace of his thumb increased on your clit. "Promised I'd make it good for you, didn't I?"
You nodded, words escaping you as tears streamed from your eyes.
"Come on, sweetheart. I can feel it. You're going to come for me again, aren't you?" He watched as you attempted to answer him, only managing a few babbled words of agreement. "What do you need? What's going to make you come all over my cock?"
You still couldn't form a coherent sentence as his harsh thrusts had you moving up and down the bed, your tits bouncing in rhythm. So you placed a hand on either of his cheeks and pulled him into a messy kiss, your tongue curling against his. That was what it took to make you orgasm again, a wail leaving your throat and tumbling into Dieter's mouth as your thighs trembled and your walls fluttered around him. The feeling of that sent him over the edge too, a couple more pumps before he was spilling himself into the condom.
Neither of you broke away from the kiss for a moment as you calmed down, sweat pooling between you as he slowly pulled out and the kisses turned sweeter and more innocent. Dieter eventually climbed off of the bed and threw the condom in the trash before crawling back to you.
"What are you doing?" You asked as he settled over you again.
"More making out for a minute." He replied simply, placing his lips over yours.
It lasted longer than a minute, that was for sure. But neither of you were complaining. By the time he decided to pull away again, your legs had stopped shaking with the aftershocks of the orgasm and your breathing had slowed to a normal rate.
Dieter looked down at you pleased with what he'd managed to achieve as a question crossed his mind. "I'm curious... when was the last time you orgasmed?"
You shrugged as the two of you sat up in the bed. "I can't remember."
"Okay, when was the last time you made yourself come? Give me an estimate." He waved his hand around in the air.
You thought about it. "A few months maybe."
He frowned, that was too long in his opinion. "And when was the last time a guy made you come?"
You hesitated before shaking your head.
The frown deepened. "What does that mean?"
You took a deep breath before answering. "Never."
His eyes darkened, lids becoming hooded. "Never?"
"No."
"I'm the first?" He didn't seem to believe you.
But you were insistent. "Yeah."
"Okay, lie back down." He said, poking at your chest to get you to rest against the pillows.
You let out a confused laugh. "What? Why?"
"Because I'm getting another fucking orgasm out of you."
You shook your head, attempting to stay sitting up. "You don't need to. You've done enough."
"Two. You've been given two orgasms by men. Both of which are from me. I need at least a third before I let you leave this room." He stretched his arms out and started moving down the bed. "Besides, you taste good and I already want to go down on you again."
"Dieter, you don't have to do that for me- oh."
He looked smug as he brushed your clit with his thumb, effectively cutting you off.
"Okay, maybe one more won't hurt." You relented, collapsing onto the pillows.
"Excellent." He chirped in response, literally diving in head first into your cunt again with a long lick up your slit. He groaned lowly, looking up at you as he pulled away. "We're gonna have to do this again sometime."
You froze. "What? Why?"
"Because I said I wanted to taste you again but all I'm getting right now is the cherry lube from the condom." He sounded disappointed.
"Sounds delicious, actually." You hummed, pushing yourself up on your elbows so you could see him better.
"Not as delicious as you, fuck." Despite the obvious discontentment, Dieter still went back to licking at you like there was no tomorrow. And it didn't take long for another orgasm to hit you, his skilled tongue combined with the leftover influence of the previous two.
When he made his way up the bed and landed next to you with his eyes closed, you took it as your cue to leave. So you slid out of the bed and started searching for your pyjamas.
"Where are you going?"
You stilled and stiffly turned to look at Dieter. Wasn't it obvious? "Back to my room."
His brow wrinkled "You don't have to go."
You straightened up, suddenly very aware of your nakedness. "I'm not spending the night."
He rolled his eyes. "I wasn't suggesting that, I figured as much. I do, however, strongly believe in this little thing called aftercare.”
"Oh." You hadn't considered that.
"Interested?"
Yes. "Maybe."
He rolled his eyes again, smile still firmly planted on his face, and opened his arms for you. "Get back over here."
You did as he said, easily finding yourself in his embrace as he stroked patterns up and down your back. Some time later he went to get a washcloth from the bathroom to clean away the mess that the cherry lube had made between your thighs, before slipping back into bed next to you.
Despite both of you insisting that you'd go back to your room any minute, you didn't move out of his arms. And eventually the two of you fell asleep wrapped in each other's arms.
A/N: I chose to write this rather than one of my final essays of the uni year… you’re welcome.
#dieter bravo x reader#dieter bravo x you#dieter bravo#the bubble#the bubble 2022#dieter bravo fic#dieter bravo fanfiction#dieter bravo fanfic#dieter bravo smut#ej’s writing#ej’s fics#deakyjoe’s writing#deakyjoe’s fics
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i'll pay for your number
modern au yae miko, hu tao, yelan (seperate)
a/n: this is painfully cheesy becuz i cant flirt, also yelans part is so rushed
summary: the genshin girls see you at their local shop, and immediately have a crush on you. will they manage to get your number?
warnings: alcohol (yelan), a weird creep flirting with you and not leaving you alone (yelan)
yae miko
Miko was never one to fall for anyone who she sees. But as soon as she walked into her local starbucks, she noticed you behind the counter. It took her just a glimpse to notice that you were new. She was a regular at this shop, and on any other day she would've went to any of the other workers because they know Mikos order. But luckily she happened to get out of the house extra early.
You greeted her with the probably sweetest smile she had ever seen. It made her heart flutter, and almost made her mess up her order. What is happening here? she is usually never like this! What spell have you cast upon her to make her act that way?
while ordering she was fumbling over her words and she was fidgeting with her fingers. and now she was just supposed to walk out of the store like nothing had happened? as if she wasnt absolutely crushing on you, even though she has said only like two sentences to you? (even if she was in slight denial about crushing on you).
yae miko decided to shoot her shot, but the way her mind was all blank when she locked eyes with you, didnt help her to come up with something.
suddenly your sweet voice interrupted her thinking. "sorry did you want caramel on top?", really anyone else wouldve never forgotten mikos order, not in a thousand years, and if someone did, yae would wonder how thats even possible.
but in your case, it was okay. seriously even if she needed to repeat her whole order to you, she wouldve did it happier than ever.
"well i think you sweetened my day more than that caramel ever could hm?"
oh god why did she say that.
you just blinked at her a few times. "so is that a no...?", did you even realize she was flirting with you?!
miko sighed. "just put caramel on it", she shook her head. she wasnt going to achieve anything like this.
well luckily your co worker came to the rescue! "[name] did you not realize that the girl youre serving right now was so obviously flirting with you? seriously you need to give her your number or something. the sigh she let out was almost painful to hear. also shes one of our regulars"
luckily you were standing with your backs to miko, and whispering. and when you mouthed an "ohh" you immediately knew what to do. even if you were kind of oblivious to flirting, its not like you were entirely stupid.
"heres your order, and i hear youre one of our regulars? I look forward to regularly seeing you", you leaned over the counter, sweetly smiling at her.
god what was that feeling? her stomach and head felt all fuzzy, and her heart was about to burst out of her chest. she felt her cheeks redden. what was she supposed to say? you knocked her whole vocabulary out of her brain with just one sentence. were you even flirting with her? or was she being entirely delusional?
well she had everyday from today on to figure that out, didnt she?
Hu tao
Working at a funeral parlour, of course some flowers were needed. She was a regular, running to the flower store next door. She’s even befriended the friendly old lady who owns the shop!
Yet when she was told to get some more flowers, she groaned. She had other work to do as well! Can‘t someone else do it? Well it wasn‘t too bad of a task, she could chat with the nice lady again, and then return to the task she was finishing before.
So when she stepped through the door with the little bell above it, she didn’t expect someone so… young?
The smell of the flowers hit her, and that’s also when she saw your face. Your soft smile at the sight of a customer walking through the door made her heart flutter.
“Hi how can I help you?”, your smile wandering from ear to ear. Hu Tao was screaming on the inside. How was your voice so sweet? And your smile so gentle and your face so gorgeous??
…was it always this warm in the store?
“O-oh! I’m from the funeral parlour next door, I was just looking to get some flowers for… funeral decoration”, Hu Tao internally cursed herself. Since when was she stuttering over her words like this??
“I think Grandma- well you know the owner of this store, told me about you! Hu… Hu Tao?”, YOU KNEW HER NAME??? This was a foreign feeling for Hu Tao, how come someone could make her feel so… you must’ve bewitched her!
"Yeah thats correct!", phew why was she getting so dizzy?
"okay then hu tao which flowers would you like to buy?", you leaned onto the counter, your hands holding your head.
"Just... two bouquets of spider lilies... please", dammit! was she not capable of forming a full sentence anymore?! why did her face feel so hot! focus hu tao focus!
instead of focusing hu taos thoughts drifted into a whole different direction. what would you, the cute flower girl look like handing her a few red roses? or maybe hu tao could give you some roses herself? she would love to see your face turn as re as the roses... or-
"here are the bouquets! anything else?", your voice snapped hu tao out of her thoughts and she jumped a little.
hu tao needed to get out of here, before her head was going to burst and her heart was going to fly out of her chest.
"thank you!", hu tao just said while grabbing the bouquets, slapping some money on the counter, and running right out the store.
you looked after her, smiling.
"weird girl", you laughed and shook your head, while noticing the huge amount of money she left on your counter, which was far beyond of what she owed you. you took a mental note of asking her about it the next time she came here. after all, you were going to see her pretty frequently now, no?
hu tao on the other hand, was out of breath from running. why was she even running from you? hugging the flowers, she looked down onto them. from now on, she was going to make sure, that she was the one who picked up the flowers everytime...
yelan
another loss. over and over she kept loosing the horrible gamble she was in right now. anyone else wouldve chosen a different game, a different table - or even a different location by now!
but... yelan just couldnt bring herself to move away.
why? - because you, the dealer of the table were just too cute! yelan couldnt believe her own thoughts, but here we are.
yelan was not even paying much attention to the game anymore. her attention was mostly on you, trying to figure out if there was a way she could get your number, without having to directly ask for it.
even you were wondering by now why she hasnt left the whole entire place yet. not like you wanted her to leave, you didnt want to lie to yourself, and in all honestly, she was kind off attractive. nonetheless, she seemed a little... out of it. has she had too much alcohol?
one way or another, your shift was about to be over. your other co worker was already walking up to you to take over the table.
you greeted him and with a simple and quick exchange, you left to go get your stuff, and then head home.
as always, you walked past the bar. to ur dismay, a weird old creep stopped you and started flirting with you.
"hey cutieee - where ya headed", you werent standing particularly close to him, but even from where you were stading, you could tell that he reeked of alcohol.
you decided it was best to ignore him and just keep walking. yet the man had other plans for you. he yanked you by your wrist, and you pulled you closer to him.
"sir please let me go", you tried your best to remain somewhat professional and not punch him in the face right then and there.
but it didnt seem like he was going to let go anytime soon. he kept babbling something about going back to his place, while you tried to push yourself away from him, since convincing him with words didnt work. you werent even sure if the words arrived in his brain.
you were about to ask literally anyone for help, when a woman stepped in.
she pushed the man off of you, and standing between the two of you, keeping you safe from him.
"didnt you hear her you creep? she doesnt want anything from you", this obviously seemed to anger the man, yet the woman seemed to not care about amything his drunken state had to say to her.
she simply rolled her eyes, took your hand and walked away with you.
"are you okay?", she asked.
"ah- yeah thank you so much for helping me", and saying the things i cant say, you wanted to add, but figured it was unprofessional.
the woman in front of you sighed.
"do these kind off things happen to you a lot?", she asked.
"kind off yeah, but its what you expect when you work in a place where alcohol is being sold", you answered.
"well if anything happens, just call me", she said, handed you a slip of pape, before wandering off without another word.
only after she left you noticed your quick heartbeat in your chest, as if your heart was begging to be left out of the place where it belonged and follow your savior the woman.
maybe you were going to call her even if it wasnt 100% necessary.
#rainstops#yae miko#yae miko x reader#yelan#genshin yelan#yelan genshin impact#yelan x reader#hu tao#yae miko genshin#hu tao genshin impact#hu tao x reader#genshin#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin imagines
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Mother Knows Best
Blaise Zabini x Hufflepuff!Reader
Warnings: (angst, fucked up family dynamic)
A/N: This is the dress I had in mind in case my description doesn't do it justice. All credit to the artist here. and hair inspo (top right). Also I'm not sure why I keep writing that Blaise hates yellow but it feels right, idk.
Summary: With your parents abhorrent views you doubt they could choose a decent partner.
Word Count: 5.6k
The wizarding community was small which meant that Hogwarts was even smaller. Thankfully you had been able to slip under the radar, which in hindsight was easy since your classmate was Harry Potter. Either way, people wrote you off as timid and boring but the truth was far worse.
Growing up everything seemed fine you came from a prestigious family that was more than respected. With that came expectations as you were told but understood, you made sure your magic was comparable to no one. You had practiced so much that there were cramps in your hand and wrist regularly. However, the expectations that your parents meant were far more nefarious than being a prefect.
For your sorting ceremony, you had come from a family of Ravenclaw’s and Slytherin’s so when the hat called out Hufflepuff it seemed a slight pause was taken. There wasn’t explicit disappointment written on your father’s face but you knew what he would have preferred. But in his words at least you weren’t Gryffindor.
Motivation thrummed through your body to make up for less than adequate house. You’d managed to become quite knowledgeable on many subjects, even things as taboo as muggle studies. You’d never dared to take the class but had read a few books out of morbid curiosity. There was never anything explicitly anti-muggle spoken about in your household but deep down you knew better. The kind of family you were born into would never be outspoken about that sort of thing, it’s unbecoming in your mother’s words.
After the death of Cedric Diggory, more talks of he who shall not be named permeated the community. Some believed it was an unexplainable tragedy while others were in complete denial. Not only were you disgusted by what they did to him you also felt sad for Harry, it was crystal clear what happened. Your parents on the other hand seemed unaffected, that should have been the first sign but you were too busy giving condolences to Harry.
Next was the stream of people they contacted in the coming months. At first, none of them rang any alarm bells but more and more suspected Death Eaters would permeate your childhood home. A small riff formed between your parents and you, the seemingly loving people who raised you held such nasty views. Visits to your childhood home soon became limited to mandatory holidays under the guise of you studying for your O.W.L.s.
Soon enough you could see exactly where they stood and it terrified you. There wasn’t anyone you could turn to without fearing it would get back to your parents.
……..
On your scheduled visit home you were indifferent to finding certain members of the Ministry leaving your parent's home. However, as your father stood before you in the foyer expectantly you couldn’t help but wonder why. Usually, it would just be your mother receiving you due to the constant stream of ‘meetings’ your father held. No words were exchanged between you two before he gestured for you to follow him to his office.
The once warm memories that this house provided now gave way to shivers down your spine. It felt like the closer you were to approaching his office the harder your heart thundered in your chest. Uneasiness settles within you because of your father’s seemingly cold nature.
Inside his office, he gestured to the seat across from his chair and your heart sank. Although you didn’t feel at home anymore, you didn’t have the heart to fully distance yourself. For so long all of your work was due to upholding the family name and reputation and if you let that go there was nothing else. Your mother gave nothing away while she stood off to the side.
“As you know darling a war is brewing, and now is the time that our Dark Lord needs his loyal correspondents.” His hands on your shoulders send a cold shiver over you. “And it worries me that my daughter seems to sympathize with mudbloods.” Even though you couldn’t see his face you could only picture the defeat on his face.
“I-” Before you could attempt to defend yourself you were interrupted.
“I thought I had made my expectations for you obvious child.” Your father’s fingers dug into you causing a grimance across your face. “Only for you to embarrass me after I put all of my hopes and dreams into you.” Tears well in your eyes from the pain of both his words and his harsh grip.
“Have I not given you everything?” In spite of how you’ve felt about his purist ways, his words cause you to scramble to reassure him. After all, you didn’t put in as much work as you had to disappoint him.
“You have and I-” The words become stuck in your throat because of how much you are trying to say at once. “I’m so sorry.” Shame has your head hanging low while your tears wet your pants. “I saw Cedric as a friend and I let my judgment get clouded.” Sobs wrack your body and your father lets his death grip go to comfort you.
“It’s okay darling sometimes we become a little misguided. As long as we find our way back that’s all that matters.” The same hands that caused your breakdown are now nursing you back with slow circles. Your breathing begins to even out and your father takes that as his cue to continue with what this meeting is really about.
“Now that we’ve taken care of that, I wanted to talk about what we are gathered here for.” His hands clap together in what you assume is excitement, and a glance at your now-smiling mother confirms it. “Tonight we are celebrating your impending nuptials.”
Never has your head swiveled so quickly, you weren't privy to any marriage conversations. As far as you knew you weren’t promised to anyone but you knew better than to question anything in this moment. From the corner of your eye, you see your mother leave the room and the thundering in your heart amps up once again.
“And what better family to be joined with than the Zabini’s?” Your mother is the one to drop the name of your future husband as she glides into the office again. Behind her, you see the infamous Zabini’s. Everyone is familiar with the Zabini’s, more specifically the rumored black widow Domenica Zabini. Her track record of 7 dead husbands speaks for itself. There was nothing short of perfection about their appearance, not that you expected less.
The joy on your mother’s face feels like you’re in an alternate universe, one that involves a happy family. Somehow you didn’t see the gilded cage that had slowly been closing until it was too late. If there was food in your stomach it would have been thrown up by now.
“Don’t play coy darling, they’ve come all this way to meet you.” As if your breakdown didn’t just happen your mother ushers you out of the seat before urging you closer. “This will be good for you, for us.” The low tone of her voice leaves no room for opposition.
Domencia’s keen eyes take you in and you almost can’t believe this woman killed her husbands. There’s nothing overtly cunning or evil-looking about her presence as one would think. Her son, on the other hand, had a menacing demeanor for someone who you’d never heard utter a word. Since Hogwarts was small his best friends Theo and Draco more than made up for his silence.
His brown eyes are calculated while he takes you in and your heart betrays you by skipping a beat.
“You’re even more breathtaking in person.” Were the first words you ever heard him speak and you hated to admit how your whole body fluttered. The low register of his voice made it feel like only the two of you were in the room despite your parents lurking off into the corner.
“So the mythical Blaise does speak?” You keep your voice low like his.
“Considering you are my future wife I’d say it’s imperative.” And just like that the reality of your future comes crashing back to you.
Blaise gently grabs your hand and brings it to his lips before running his thumb across your knuckles. His eyes never leave yours and you can’t help but wonder if he’s trying to disarm you. Either way, you remember to keep your guard up around him.
“Is there anywhere for us to talk, privately?” Although you doubt your parents can hear you he still goes the extra mile to bring his lips to the shell of your ear.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” Your eyes dart around the room in an attempt to get out of the situation you’ve landed in.
“Afraid you’ll actually come to like me, sweetheart?” Blaise, as observant of ever, notices your hesitation to him despite his very convincing charm.
“No.” Even you weren’t convinced by your answer however, you refused to give him the satisfaction.
An amused smirk plays on his face and he finds himself more than pleased with this arrangement. The air between you was thick with undeniable tension.
“You know,” Your mother places her hands on your shoulders gently but that doesn’t stop the small wince on your face, “You should show Blaise around the grounds since he’ll be around a lot.”
“That would be lovely.” His award-winning smile splits his face in agreeance with your mother.
Seeing no way out of this you tell him, “Stay close to me.”
Many would say that your familial land is almost as grand as Hogwarts, but that only applies if you enjoy greenery. The house is incomparable to the vast amounts of land you can explore and observe. Your mother favored her garden and maze, so much so that the familial home was inconsequential to the lands she demanded.
“I take it you weren’t as up-to-date as your parents led me to believe?” Now that you two were truly alone Blaise saw no need to hold back.
“I wasn’t but I can’t say I’m completely upset with their choice.” The truth is they went far beyond your expectations.
“So I still have a chance?” He pulls back before the two of you are more than a couple feet from the house. “I must plead my case.” His general nature gives you pause, you’ve never met someone so magnetic.
“And what exactly is your case?” Your curiosity gets the better of you.
“We could make this a long engagement, I don’t mind a wait. Frankly, I enjoy your presence and I wouldn’t mind growing from that.” His hands reach for yours, and somehow it doesn’t seem desperate.
“You’re making this feel so easy.” As much as you wanted to reject any man sent your way through your parents, Blaise was different. Not to mention you weren’t in a position to bargain.
“I don’t want to force you, but I will promise absolute devotion.” This time when he kisses your knuckles there’s no prying eyes, making the moment much more remarkable.
Truth be told above all else you wanted someone exactly like Blaise, but your parent's involvement sort of ruined the moment. Emotionally you were still reeling from your father’s outburst, and you know it won’t be the last. If you could keep him off your back with this there would be less pressure surrounding any future mistake.
But that does peg the question of how you’ll fare should this relationship get serious. Would you be the first of many wives for Blaise? The thought sent a chill down your spine and there’s no way you could outright ask. For the time being you decide being a team player is most important and string Blaise along until he tires of you.
“I would love nothing more.” Maybe you laid it on a little thick but Blaise doesn’t seem to notice or care.
………….
With news of you and Blaise’s engagement spreading amongst the parents, you knew it wouldn’t take long for the gossip mill at Hogwarts to circulate. By the time you return from your visit whispers follow you through the corridor.
“So you wanna tell me why everyone is talking about your engagement to Blaise?” Madeline, your closest friend, saddles up next to you as you barrel down the hall.
You slow down your fast pace to pull her into an empty classroom. “I knew my Father held some anti-muggle ideals but now he’s talking about doing the Dark Lord’s bidding. I went home this weekend to find out they had me betrothed to Blaise Zabini.” Your hands find their way to your face in an effort to rub the emotional distress out. “Not to mention he completely freaked out on me for expressing my sympathies for Harry. Mads I’ve never seen him like that, it scared me.”
“Godric,” She made her way to stand beside you before rubbing your back in gentle circles. Madeline was first assigned as one of your dormmates, she took it upon herself to adopt you. She'd seen first-hand the immense pressure your parents put on you, and in turn the pressure you placed on yourself. “You know you’re always welcome around mine?”
Although you did know that it would only prolong the inevitable with your parents. Nevertheless, you thank her and rest your head on her shoulder.
“The worst part is the fact that I don't completely hate Blaise, I mean he would be perfect if my parents hadn’t been the ones to arrange it. Now it feels tainted you know?” Your eyes are glued to the floor while you pour out everything you’d had to hold in this past weekend.
“Of course, not to mention his mother has an interesting romantic history.” You are glad that you’re not the only one who noticed.
“But he’s so gorgeous.” You tilt your head away from your best friend with a whimsical sigh.
“You’re preaching to the choir.” Her agreeance has you craning your neck to blink in surprise at her.
“Not too much, he’s still my fiance.” Playfully you narrow your eyes at Mads before bursting into laughter with her joining you.
With your spirits back up the both of you head back into the hall and make your way to the grand hall. Studying would help in taking your mind off of everything else, somehow it was relaxing. The table was decorated with textbooks as you and Madeline delved into your academics.
“You look even more radiant when you’re focused.” That low drawl had your head quickly swiveling to meet Blaise’s eyes in surprise.
“There’s a lot I need to stay up to date on.” Your answer must have been enough for him to take a seat next to you. But you don’t let his presence deter you from your agenda. Madeline squirms in her seat across from you to get your attention only to give you a knowing look.
“I’m sure there is,” He lets his eyes fall over your form, and warmth spreads throughout your body at his brazenness. He clears his throat before continuing, “ My mother’s hosting a party next weekend and I was wondering if you’d do me the honor of being my date?”
From the corner of your eye, you could feel Madeline’s widened eyes taking in this conversation. You’re not sure why you expected Blaise to ignore you once you returned to Hogwarts, but strangely you’re pleased he didn’t. Finally, you set your quill down to properly address him.
“I would love that,” You school your features to not look as giddy as you feel. “Any specific dress code requirements?”
“If you don’t mind I got your measurements from your mother and had a dress commissioned.” He had the gall to look sheepish.
“And what if I find the dress ugly? What if I had said no?” The questions fly out one after the other.
“Your mother promised me you had no shortage of beautiful gowns, and if you had said no I would have found another way to gift it to you.” His eyes peer down at you while you bashfully glance towards Madeline. Once he leaves you know you’ll never hear the end of this.
“Well thank you,” For once you are truly rendered speechless and there is no other feeling more embarrassing.
Blaise, as observant as ever, senses the end of the conversation and readies himself to leave. Before he completely takes off he places a folded piece of paper in your palm and closes it. When his back faces you you let your eyes wander after him with a stupid smile splitting your face. You realize too late that once he reaches his table his friends have already caught you grinning like an idiot. They proceed to clap him on the back and you quickly face Mads only to be met with a teasing grin.
You resign yourself to laying your head on the table until the smile on your face calms down. When you unfold the piece of paper you find a rough draft of a fluffy green gown. His penmanship impressed you but his eye for detail on the various layers of dresses solidified your opinion.
…………
The box holding the dress Blaise commissioned is sitting on the ottoman by the foot of your bed. It was a deep emerald green with a light green bow wrapping around it. Your mother delivered it with a bright smile as soon as it arrived in the morning. She was adamant about opening it but you wanted to wait, even if the anticipation was killing you too.
Your parents were attending as well but they had been rather agreeable lately. Just as you assumed once you showed interest in being with Blaise they seemingly backed off. The last thing you want is a repeat of what happened.
With the sun setting you begin taking down your hair, and the curls bounce as you rub oil on them. You deliberately save the front braids for last while you finish individually placing each curl. The front of your hair is parted to the right side, and you begin gathering half into a small ponytail. You decide to leave a small piece of hair out from the right side that is curled away from your face.
A smile graces your face at the finished product and you turn to the box that’s been calling to you all day. The note attached to the bow was the first thing you read.
I hope the dress is up to your standards -B.Z.
You place the note on your bed and untie the bow before lifting the top. A lavish hunter-green bustier greets you, before fully pulling it out you take note of the silver and black jewels lining the entire top. You carefully grab the strapless top to pull it out of the box and a gasp involuntarily leaves your mouth at the mass of the dress.
Flowers made of sheer fabric litter the waist and sage green fabric lines the sides of the dress. Layers of tulle overlap with leafy designs that feature silver accents. You had never seen a dress as beautiful as the one in front of you, Blaise clearly had an eye for fashion. The drawing he gave didn’t do the dress enough justice.
Progressively you place the dress on the floor and step into it. Perfect is the only word to describe it as you gaze at yourself in the mirror. Even in low light, the jewels sparkle enticingly and you note that he used his house color on you. You do a spin before heading to your jewelry box, only to find that you missed a matching necklace and earring set at the bottom. The dangly earrings remind you of snowflakes and the necklace matches the gems atop your dress.
“Please tell me you’re rea-” Your mother bustles into your room but pauses mid-sentence at you. “My, you look stunning.” She slowly circles you before noting the jewelry in your hand and she gestures for you to face the mirror. She delicately takes out your stud earrings and replaces them with the one Blaise gifted you. When she reaches into the box for the necklace a gasp, much like your earlier one, leaves her red-tinted lips.
“When he asked me about your measurements I never expected this.” She circles her arms over your head to gingerly lay the necklace over your sternum. Her polished nails circle your shoulders for a gentle squeeze, “Let's finish up before your father storms in here.”
She sits you down on your vanity chair before pulling out a brown lipstick and gloss. You tilt your head back to allow her an easier time and her sweet perfume fills your nostrils. Once she finishes she steps back to admire her handiwork with a smile. She opens her mouth to say something but is interrupted by your father’s call.
“We are now thirty minutes late,” The both of you share a silent laugh before heading downstairs to put on shoes and meet your father.
………..
Blaise is bored out of his mind waiting for you, he was surrounded by friends but it was clear he was anxiously awaiting your arrival. Although he thought you would like the dress he couldn’t be sure, maybe it was a bad idea to not consult you.
“Oh cheer up Zabini your girlfriend’ll be here soon.” Theodore’s quip was met with laughter from Draco.
“Not girlfriend, fiancee.” Malfoy corrects Theo before Blaise can open his mouth to say the same thing. While they laugh Blaise rolls his eyes before scanning the hall once more. Theodore could sense how his friend felt despite him trying to downplay it.
“Is there an actual ring or is this a vocal agreement?” Draco decided to push his limits
“There’s plenty of rings but we aren’t there yet kind of like you and Astoria.” Draco rolls his eyes at the reminder of his love life. “And who knows when a woman will become agreeable to your presence Nott.”
Both boys exchanged looks of amusement at Blaise’s snappy tone.
Time seems to stand still when he spots you at the entrance of his mother’s grand hall. His heart thunders as he realizes you are wearing the dress he helped create. The low light of the room captures the shimmering jewels that line the dress and he can’t recall anyone as lovely as you. For once he is rooted in place unable to fulfill the greeting he had prepared.
“I think I understand now mate.” Theodore is stumped in place as well when he follows Blaise’s line of sight.
Everyone in the hall spares a glance at you, how could they not? The dress gives the illusion that you are gliding across the floor. His mother intercepts your family and focuses on you. It’s obvious she’s fawning over how alluring you are. Your eyes scan the crowd scantily and Blaise takes that as his cue.
“I’ll catch up with you two later.” He doesn’t spare his friends a glance as he makes his way through the crowd to you.
When your eyes lock with his he internally melts, the closer he gets the more you steal his breath away. A symphony with booming music plays in his head to match his beating heart.
You straighten your posture when Blaise stands before you in a three-piece emerald green tailman suit. His hand collects yours before bowing to kiss your knuckles, and after he comes up you curtsey before him. Your dress pools around you in the most elegant way before you slowly come up again. It was nearly impossible to rip his eyes away from you but he had to greet your parents before whisking you off.
“Would you mind excusing us?” Blaise’s polite manner brings joy to your mother’s face and approval to your father's.
“Of course not,” Your mother and Domencia are quick to shoo you and him away.
His hand glides around to the small of your back while he guides you to the refreshment table. The array of food makes it hard for you to pick anything and he senses your indecision. He hands you a plate to pick as much as you want.
“Thank you, for the dress it really is amazing. Your drawing was beautiful but I never expected anything like this.” The sparkle in your eyes is all he wanted to see.
“Anything for you.” His declaration left you speechless once again so you focus on picking your food.
He then leads you to your table to eat but you hesitate before moving to sit. Blaise angles your body and dress to sit comfortably in his lap. Your stomach flutters for the umpteenth time and you try to look anywhere besides his face.
“This was your plan all along huh? Create this elaborate dress so I’m woefully dependent on you.” You begin trying the various foods on your plate while Blaise watches you.
“If I’m being honest I wish I had come up with that, but I did want to see you in a beautiful gown. Maybe steal a dance or two.” His complete focus was on you enjoying your treacle tart.
“Nobody else is dancing though,” You spare a glance around to find everyone mingling while the live band plays quietly.
“So?” His head was being cradled by his large hand as he searched your eyes.
“You must be the fiancee, we’ve heard so much about you.” Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott step into view on the other side of the table.
“I kind of miss Zabini when he was quiet and mysterious.” Theodore jokingly pouts his lips at Blaise before taking his seat.
“Fuck off,” Blaise tries to look annoyed but everyone catches the slight crack in his face.
“The only Blaise I’ve encountered is the lovesick puppy variant.” The boys roar with laughter at your one-liner.
“As much as I love this conversation, I should probably do a couple of laps around the room,” He places his hands on your hips before addressing you, “You think you’ll be okay with these vultures for a couple of minutes?”
“I think I’ll be alright,” The mischievous grin on your face convinced him and you stood up so he could fulfill his hosting duties.
“That's the spirit,” Malfoy clapped his hands at your willingness to entertain them. “Shall we get you a drink to catch up with us?”
“As long as it’s fire whiskey.” Your agreeance has them flagging down the nearest server for a round of glasses.
Surprisingly talking with Draco and Theo is easy, mostly because they’ve been shit-talking Blaise. You keep your intake of whiskey to two glasses to keep your wits about you. This wasn’t that kind of party.
They tell the story of how Blaise was knocked off his broom by an ex-girlfriend's spell. A re-enactment of how he flailed for 30 feet ensued but luckily the table was toward the back. You’d been breathing in short bursts for the past few minutes and you hope for a reprieve.
“Alright if you all don’t mind I’ll be stealing her for a dance,” Blaise’s hand stretches out to you before he calls, “M’lady.”
One last giggle escapes from your lips when you place your hand in his and slowly rise from your chair. On the way to the middle of the floor, you realize the band is playing a much louder tune than before. Blaise’s steps slow and his hand guides you around to the front of him while your dress flows flawlessly.
Each of you repeats the bow and curtsey from earlier but this time you keep eye contact. Once both of you are upright you wait for the musical cue to begin your first step. When the violinist begins their solo you step forward attaching one hand to his right shoulder and the other in his left hand. His hand envelops yours before sliding down to the small of your back, just above the flowers.
Just like you thought you two were the only ones about to dance, and people were quickly realizing that.
“Don’t look around, I want to see those beautiful eyes aimed at me.” With warm cheeks, you gaze up at Blaise who smiles back at you taking the first step in the dance. Completely confident in your steps, you follow his lead while he guides you in circles.
“This dress is the best gift anyone’s ever given me and don’t even get me started on the jewelery, thank you.” You step back as Blaise raises his arm to spin you, showcasing the multiple layers of tulle whirling around you.
“Does this mean I need to begin drafting another?” The moment you step back into each other’s space it feels as if the whole room is empty save for you two.
“If I could make a request, would you mind yellow?” The slight grimace crossing his face makes you laugh.
“And your very first flaw rears its ugly head.” You swallow the chuckle that wants to escape so that you can back away from Blaise once more. This time you both take a step to your left before holding your palms close but not touching. With your left hand behind your back, you keep your eyes on the only person in the room as you walk in a circle.
“Where would I even wear another dress like this?” Events like this don’t exactly happen every week.
“I’ll plan another party for you.” His words cause your heartbeat to thunder in your chest you almost thought he could hear it.
All playful banter between you ceased and all that could be heard were the strings of violins increasing in tempo. At the same time, you turn so that your right hand can hold a sliver of space between them. Something within his eyes made a jolt run through your body as if you took Amortentia.
With the tempo slightly decreasing it was time for you to stand side by side, facing the fireplace and his hand guiding you backward. Now that the both of you are facing each other once again you circle the other in a figure-eight motion. If you were thinking about anything other than Blaise you would feel ridiculous but there was nothing else running through your mind.
His mouth firmly remains in a smile and yours mirrors his if the strain in your cheeks had any say. Your dance comes to an end when you face each other before your last curtsey. Applause fills the room and you remember you’re not alone.
“I think it’s time for a tour.” Blaise bends down to speak lowly into your ear and a shiver runs down your spine.
“I would love that.” You place your hand on his bicep and follow his lead out of the ballroom.
The corridors are dim with only candles lighting your path. Your heels click rhythmically in time with Blaise’s steps, echoing off the walls.
“You’re enjoying yourself I take it?” Even though he meant to sound sure you could hear the doubt in his voice.
“I love it, I love this dress, and spending time with you isn’t terrible.” Everything about tonight has been great and you were starting to come around to the idea of actually being with Blaise. Maybe the deal with his mother’s dead husband had a logical explanation.
“That sparkle in your eye tells me it’s a little better than terrible.” He slows to a stop before sliding his arm around your waist. An alcove that has stained glass lets the moonlight shine through allowing the colors to reflect off your skin.
“It would kill me to admit my parents are right.” Your whisper causes the biggest smirk to split his face and you almost retract your statement.
“It would kill me if you were to let that stop you.” Both of his hands find themselves planted on your waist playing with the jewels.
After a moment of looking at you his thumb and forefinger lift your head so he can press his lips delicately to yours. You tilt your head to kiss him back while your hands find purchase on his biceps. The way his thumb caresses your cheek makes you lose all inhibitions. Suddenly your hand wraps around the back of his neck to bring his lips closer, your poor dress getting squished in the process.
It felt like the two of you were molded together, if someone walked past they wouldn’t know where you end and Blaise begins. A groan sounds from him as he slides his hand from your face to the back of your neck, balling his fist full of your hair. When he pulls a gasp leaves your lips and allows him to slide his tongue in.
“Godric, save that for the honeymoon.” Theodore’s voice and Draco’s laugh feel like cold water being poured over you. Blaise’s hand leaves your hair but stays around your waist while you keep both of your hands at your side. Lip gloss makes his lips irregularly shiny and you're tempted to wipe it but you're interrupted.
“Your mother’s asking for the both of you, so we did you a favor and came ourselves.” Draco smiles before raising his glass of fire whiskey and tipping it back.
You and Blaise begin leading the long trek back to the ballroom.
“They’re going to breed like gnomes.” There was no telling who mumbled that out but it resulted in laughter spilling out from everyone.
#blaise zabini x female reader#blaise zabini x reader#blaise zabini imagine#slytherin boys#slytherin#harry potter fanfiction#hufflepuff#hufflepuff x slytherin#hufflepuff reader
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Tokens of love
tenth doctor x GN!reader
Summary: In which the Doctor leaves you love notes around the TARDIS. At least... that's what you think they are
It started as a joke.
“If you’re the Doctor, do you have messy handwriting?” you asked with a laugh, leaning against him. You knew he wasn’t actually a doctor, but you wondered if the stereotype still applied.
“I don’t know what you’re referring to,” he had deflected, ignoring your comment.
After that, he started leaving notes around the TARDIS. At first, you thought they were for him, reminders to do silly things like sleep and brush his teeth. Then, they started appearing in your spaces. You couldn’t read them, they were in circular Gallifreyan. Even if you were versed in the language, you doubted that you would be able to decipher them. The Doctor’s handwriting was awful. Worse than you could have ever imagined or joked about. The notes looked more like blind scribbles than actual messages.
“What is this?” you asked, holding up a bright yellow sticky note with some scribbles on it.
“A little note for you,” The Doctor grinned childishly, turning his attention back to the console in front of him.
“I don’t read Gallifreyan,” you laughed, sticking the note on the console.
“What does it say?”
The Doctor pulled his glasses out of his pocket and examined the note. You were surprised he could read his own handwriting. After a few moments of deliberation, he pulled back from the note.
“I love you.” He smiled, taking the glasses back off. You had no reason to assume it said anything else.
“Well in that case I’m taking this back,” you huffed, grabbing the note back. You tried your best to hide the blush creeping across your face.
“Thank you,” you whispered, pulling the Doctor in for a quick kiss. The action left the man flustered and blushing. Even now, your kisses could leave him speechless.
After that, the Doctor started leaving more and more notes for you to find. They were almost all different and scattered in all kinds of places about the TARDIS. By your bed, in your bathroom, buried in the library, or somewhere in the kitchen. Sometimes the Doctor would just give them to you directly, followed by a kiss.
After a while, you stopped asking what they said. It was always a variation of “I love you,” or something regarding how beautiful you were. You found it incredibly sweet, so you kept every single note.
Most of them were bright, colorful sticky notes with short but sweet messages. There were a couple that were longer, and you assumed those to be detailed love letters. The issue was, you couldn’t read a single one.
You had tried to learn circular Gallifreyan, a feat that proved harder than you thought. The Doctor refused to teach you, and there were hardly any books on the language in the TARDIS library. You picked up bits and pieces but they did little to advance your understanding of the strange messages.
Before long you had a thick stack of notes resting on your desk. A messy array of papers and sloppy writing. For the most part, you kept them in the order that you had discovered them. They were some of your most prized possessions. They came from the Doctor, which made them special enough.
One day, Donna was hanging out with you in your room on the TARDIS. These days, she spent more time with you than anyone else, usually mulling about your room. She’d burst in without as much as a knock on your door. You weren’t complaining - the company was nice.
Down the hall, the Doctor was busy with something in the control room. The constant clanging from down the hallway let you know he was still alive.
Donna poked her head out of your bathroom, holding up a note.
“Why do you have Bop It instructions on the bathroom mirror?” Donna asked, confused.
You furrowed your brow and grabbed the note from her. This was the first one he had ever left in English. His handwriting was still awful, but it was more legible than his Gallifreyan.
“What..?” you whispered, equally confused. You turned the note over multiple times in your hands, examining it from every angle. You even turned it upside down, hoping that might explain its peculiar nature. This certainly wasn’t a love note.
You grabbed your stack and flipped through them. It was undoubtedly from the Doctor, the handwriting was unmistakable, and the pen was the same.
“He said these were love notes,” you explained, gesturing to the stack. Donna raised an eyebrow, sending a disapproving look your way.
“I’m not sure Bop It instructions can classify as love notes,” she laughed.
“Maybe to him?” you defended, shrugging slightly. You’d never received love notes before, especially not from an alien, so you didn’t exactly know what to expect.
Donna made a contemplative noise, frowning at the notes. Without asking, she snatched the stack from your hands and stormed off down the hallway.
“Donna!” you called after her, flabbergasted. You dashed after her, scared of whatever came next. Donna was not to be trifled with.
The redhead found the Doctor and shoved the stack in front of him. He looked up at her, extremely confused. Panting, you finally caught up with her.
“Read them,” she demanded, hands resting on her hips. You flashed her a disapproving glare, upset with her antics. You weren’t a confrontational person. If it was up to you, you would have just asked him about it.
“Start with that one,” Donna commanded, gesturing to the one she found.
The Doctor frowned down at his writing, realization striking him. He had messed up and written in English. His cover was blown.
“In my defense, the game is in English.” He winced, handing the note back to Donna. “Mix-ups are bound to happen,” he said casually, hoping to play it off.
“You wrote it on purpose?” you asked, confused. Was this his idea of a joke, or did he really think he was being romantic?
“Well…” the Doctor groaned, trying to find the best way to explain it. “I may have been writing you wikiHow articles.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, frustrated with his own idea of a joke.
“You said they were love notes?!”
The Doctor blushed, averting his gaze. You rolled your eyes. Leave it up to your stupid space boyfriend to leave you wikiHow articles and call them love notes.
“Read them to me,” you said simply, sitting down calmly. “In order,” you added.
The Doctor scrunched his face like the idea was painful, but complied. He couldn’t figure out how to talk his way out of this, so it was best to play along.
“This ought to be good,” Donna laughed, sitting down next to you. The Doctor flipped through the notes, trying to find some of the first ones he had left you. He picked up a bright yellow sticky note, the first one he had ever given you. The one he had claimed read “I love you.”
“How to Grow Cabbage,” he whispered, almost like he didn’t want you to hear it. You cleared your throat and raised your eyebrows disapprovingly. The Doctor blushed and repeated the note louder.
You and Donna exchanged a look of confusion, wondering why the Doctor would leave you such a note.
He turned a darker shade of red as he continued to flip through the notes, looking for the next one.
“How to Keep Cats Out of Your Yard.”
Donna scoffed from next to you. You hid your own smile with your hand, finding the title both useless and comical. The Doctor furrowed his brow at your reactions and continued.
He found a stray note in the pile and frowned at it, clearly upset by its contents.
“I didn’t write this one,” he claimed, eyes wide. You moved closer to him, trying to read the note over his shoulder.
“What does it say?”
“How to Be Less Talkative,” he mumbled, embarrassed.
“Oi!” Donna laughed, flashing the man a disapproving look. Behind him, you giggled, finding his defensiveness cute.
“I swear, that wasn’t me!” the Doctor argued, looking up at you with pleading eyes. He was terrified you would be offended or mad at him. Instead, you seemed to find the situation hilarious.
“You talk more than both of us!” Donna laughed, pointing at the Doctor.
He furrowed his brow and groaned, “I didn’t write it!” He argued. You smiled warmly, enjoying the banter between your friends.
The TARDIS thrummed behind the Doctor, the sound barely audible over the laughter.
“Meddler,” he growled, presuming the ship had left the message for you. He frowned at the note in his hands, hoping the ship didn’t just ruin his relationship with you.
“It’s ok.” You smiled, reassuring the Doctor. You sat back down next to him, taking the note from his hands and setting it aside. You picked out a larger letter from the pile, one that you had tried for weeks to decipher. With a smile, you handed it to him, “What does this one say?”
“How to Eliminate Monsters Under the Bed,” he said with a seriousness that felt out of place.
“Is this your idea of a love letter?” Donna teased, taking the paper from his hands. She squinted at it, but still couldn’t read it. It just looked like scribbles to her.
“It’s useful!” he argued, almost pouting.
You tilted your head in confusion, waiting for him to elaborate.
“It could save your life someday,” he said earnestly, looking you in the eye. You genuinely couldn’t tell if he was being serious. The Doctor could say crazy things and mean them. You looked over at Donna, hoping she might have some insight into his truthfulness, but she looked equally confused. Deciding to move on, you handed the Doctor another sticky note.
“How to Shower With a Lemon.”
You squinted, trying to process the words coming out of the Doctor’s mouth.
“You made that one up,” Donna laughed, waving him away.
“Lemons are actually good for your skin,” the Doctor stated. He continued on about their benefits, but if you were being honest you got a bit lost. He had a habit of going off on rambling tangents, and quite often you got lost in his rushed words. Judging by Donna’s far-off look, she was equally lost.
“It’s not that unusual,” he shrugged, signaling the end of his tangent. You smiled and nodded, pretending that you understood any of the words he had just said.
“This is a good one.” He smiled, picking up a neon green sticky note from the pile.
“How to Calculate Pi by Throwing Frozen Hot Dogs.”
“There’s no way you didn’t make that one up,” Donna argued, determined she was right.
“It’s a real thing!” The Doctor frowned.
“That’s something straight from your whacky Martian brain!”
“For the last time,” the Doctor groaned, running his hands down his face, “I’m not from Mars.”
“He had to have made it up,” Donna said, turning to you. You shrugged, completely unsure.
While your friends continued to argue, you took the liberty of looking it up. Sure enough, it was a real thing. Upon further research, you found that multiple people were responsible for writing and editing the article. Neither the Doctor nor any of his aliases were listed.
“It’s real.” You smiled sadly, handing your phone over to Donna. You watched as her eyes danced across the screen. A crinkle formed between her eyes, the cogs turning endlessly in her brain
“You used multiple accounts to cover up the fact that you wrote it,” She glared.
“I would never!” he gasped, clutching his chest.
Donna rolled her eyes, clearly not believing him. To be fair, it did seem like something he would do.
You smiled to yourself, having found their argument both entertaining and adorable.
When Donna wasn’t looking, the Doctor winked at you. You frowned, confused as to what he was hinting.
Ignoring you, he picked up the next note and read it out loud, “How to Sneak Your Cat Into Work.” He continued to flip through the notes before finding the next one.
“How to Apologize to a Cat.”
“For someone who dislikes cats so much, you sure did leave me a lot of notes regarding them…” you pointed out, leaning into the Doctor’s shoulder. From the corner, you heard Donna let out a little laugh. The man ignored you two and continued on.
“How to Flush a British Toilet.” He smiled at the note, clearly proud of himself.
“We end up in Britain a lot,” he explained to you with a cheeky smile.
You rolled your eyes, “I know how to flush a toilet, love.”
“How to Be Random.”
“You’re one to talk!” you laughed, playfully shoving the Doctor. Donna burst into laughter, pointing at the Doctor. He looked between the two of you, bewildered and confused.
“I have a reason for everything I do.” He frowned, upset at the accusation. “I don’t just do things on a whim.”
The last comment made you and Donna lose it. You almost fell out of your chair with laughter, which only seemed to upset the Doctor even more.
“I think your laughter is more than displaced,” he grumbled, crossing his arms.
You tried to reel in your laughter to comfort him, but his grumpy face only made you laugh more.
Ignoring you, he started to rattle off more notes.
“How to Listen to Music, How to High Five, How to Walk.”
“Doctor,” you started to ease your laughter, “We don’t walk much, we always seem to be running for our lives.” You smiled, proud of your quip.
“Well, you do waddle a little,” the Doctor shrugged nonchalantly, continuing on before you could protest too much.
“How to Breathe.”
“Wait,” Donna interrupted, “that’s a normal human reflex.” You nodded, agreeing with her comment.
“Seems like a fairly useless article to me,” you added.
The Doctor looked warily between you and Donna, his eyes lingering on the redhead. When you turned to laugh with her, he attempted to hide one of the longer letters. Catching his motion from the corner of your eye, you stopped him.
“What’s this one?” you asked, snagging the letter from his hands. The Doctor avoided eye contact, debating various possible responses. He settled on the truth.
“How to Be Human.”
“I am human,” you laughed, clearly finding the letter a joke. The Doctor didn’t share your amusement. He stared at you with a curious expression, almost like he was studying you. He made a small humming noise that suggested he didn’t believe you.
“I am!” you repeated with an uncomfortable laugh. The Doctor looked between you and Donna again before giving you a knowing look. He presumed your reluctance was due to the other woman in the room, though he didn’t believe your protests.
“How to Become a Philosopher,” the Doctor read, looking around the room for reactions. Much to his dismay, you and Donna remained silent. You were still reeling from the last one.
The Doctor frowned at the remaining notes, desperately not wanting to read them. He rushed through them, hoping to go too fast for you to understand.
“How to Romance a Man, How to Get a Man to Marry You, How to Apply For a Marriage Licence in Alaska, How to Dress For a Wedding, How to Stop a Wedding, How to-”
You cut the Doctor off, “I’m sorry,” you laughed. “Are you trying to say something?”
The Doctor looked at you innocently, as if he hadn’t just tried to avoid the whole ordeal.
“The last five notes mentioned marriage.”
“Six,” Donna corrected, counting them off on her fingers.
“Are you trying to…” you thought about the last one, “Stage a wedding?” you asked.
Then it occurred to you. Maybe the Doctor was trying to propose to you. You’d be lying if you hadn’t thought about marrying the Doctor. You’d been dating for years, and you loved the man more than you had ever loved anything else. You couldn’t imagine your life without him. You had just assumed that was never something he wanted for the two of you. Franky, you were fine with it. You didn’t need a ring to know the Doctor loved you, he showed you that in his own ways.
“Or are you trying to propose to me?”
Now it was Donna’s turn to look shocked. Her gaze darted between the two of you, her mouth hanging open in shock. The Doctor turned bright red and averted his gaze.
“Because it definitely needs work,” you added, scrunching your nose. “How to Stop a Wedding is kind of misleading.”
Donna was still staring at you, a little too shocked for words.
“Is that what you were trying to ask me?” you clarified, hoping you hadn’t read too much into it.
“Maybe,” the Doctor said quietly. Donna let out a pained squeak.
“Maybe I’d say yes.”
The Doctor lit up. One of his signature grins took over his face and he jumped up from his seat.
“Really?” he asked. You nodded, you’d never been more sure of anything in your life.
The Doctor wrapped his arms around your waist, excitedly lifting you off of the floor. You threw your head back, happily laughing. The Doctor planted kisses all over your face, placing his lips anywhere he could. Finally, he settled on your lips.
“You’re getting married!” Donna finally processed, throwing her hands up in excitement. The Doctor pulled away from you with a smile, gently setting you back down.
“We’re getting married,” you giggled, hardly able to contain your excitement.
“We need to get to the space registry!” Donna clapped excitedly, already moving towards the TARDIS console.
“Marriage isn’t even a concept in many civilizations why would there be-”
“Shut it, spaceman,” Donna snapped, gesturing to the TARDIS. The Doctor rolled his eyes but complied.
“I still have my wedding dress if you need it,” she said, elbowing the Doctor in the side but looking at you.
“It doesn’t have pockets,” he grumbled, remembering the first time he met Donna. Donna rolled her eyes, clearly unbothered by the idea.
“Do you remember your wedding?” He asked, raising his eyebrows in disapproval. Donna scrunched up her face, a clear sign of disgust.
“Don’t remind me.”
You giggled, also remembering the first time you met Donna.
“We can get pockets added,” you reassured, taking the Doctor’s hand. He smiled down at you and nodded, letting go of your hand to pilot the TARDIS.
After a short, fairly smooth flight, the ship landed with its usual thump. You wobbled on your feet, but the Doctor wrapped an arm around you for support.
“Where are we?” you asked.
“Chiswick, Donna’s house.”
“What? Why?” She frowned, confused.
“I figure Wilfred is going to want to come, and we need to pick up that dress.”
Donna nodded, understanding. The three of you started to walk out of the TARDIS.
“We also need to go to a tailor,” he added, grabbing his coat from its spot by the door.
“For pockets?” Donna laughed, grabbing her own coat.
“Obviously,” he said, “I’m not walking around without pockets. Plus, it might need some alterations,” he continued, gesturing to his long frame in comparison to Donna’s.
Donna stopped in her tracks, eyes practically bulging out of her head. She shook her head, trying to comprehend what he was saying. Behind them, you giggled lightly. Regaining her thought process she opened her mouth,
“I’m sorry… what?!”
#10th doctor x reader#10th doctor/reader#tenth doctor x reader#tenth doctor/reader#tenth doctor#10th doctor#the doctor#Donna noble#doctor who#doctor who fanfiction#fanfiction#fanfic#david tennant
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Ahkmenrah x Reader: Sarcophagus
Word Count: 1,276
Warnings/Notes: Jump scare via Ahkmenrah yelling and the Reader not expecting that at all.
Summary: The Reader is cataloging in the museum past closing, they are surprised to see the sarcophagus of the pharaoh Ahmenrah shaking and someone yelling from within it. Will the Reader stay to figure things out, or will a night guard find them first before they can truly help Ahk?
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The echo of footsteps came and went. Some lingered with more interest than others. It was the usual sound of a museum. Quiet murmuring of the exhibits and the curiosities the guests held for anything unusual or a spark of amazement.
The Museum of Natural History held such wonder. Though the amount of visitors came in few as years went by, that statistic never curved your interest. Which was all the more reason why you found yourself there presently.
You had checked your watch again as it neared the time of closing. But with such interest and focus, it was easy to lose track of time. The object of your gaze for the past couple of hours resided in the Ancient Egyptian exhibit. Within it, the Pharaoh Ahkmenrah and a collection of his belongings, found in his tomb alongside him decades ago.
Sketching in the next hieroglyph into your notebook, you were determined to complete one more row before leaving for the night. It may not be the most exciting task to the others, especially to anyone who noticed, but you enjoyed it. Honestly, you would not be doing it if you dreaded it. Not everyone could say the same, you were thankful that you could.
As the hieroglyphs began to fill another line on the page, you muttered to yourself. It was a thought, that perhaps you should have left enough space on the page between the lines for your translations. At least it was merely a minor inconvenience.
Unknowingly to you through your mutterings, the golden tablet displayed on the wall above began to glow.
The sun had set. The exhibits within the museum started to awaken for the night. Every night like the one before. You, however, were the only difference. Completely focused, and yet utterly oblivious.
Kneeling down, you inspected the last hieroglyph. Or, at least, the last one to draw for the day. “I can’t believe they took this out of a tomb,” you grumbled to yourself, “I guess it was easier for them to clear out and transport these magnificent archeological finds than create a replica. Display purposes and no doubt—”
“AHHHH!”
“AHH!” You spun onto the floor in fright. Looking for the ongoing source of your initial panic, you saw no one behind you. No one except the sarcophagus. The shaking sarcophagus.
This was not a case of caffeine jitters or accidentally falling asleep during work. No, the confines of the sarcophagus were indeed yelling and the pins holding the lid on were rattling as fast as your heart.
Had you entered a scene in a horror movie, or was someone pulling an elaborate trick on you? If the latter, you were sure to exchange some professionally heated words with them. Tampering with a mummy that needed proper care to remain well preserved required the utmost respect.
Thinking more about a sneaky trick, you frowned. “Stop shouting.”
All sounds ceased.
Peering around, you expected at least one other person to come jogging into the Temple room to free their colleague. But silence remained.
Slowly, you stood to your feet and walked forward. “I’m crazy.” As you looked down upon the golden face, your breath caught. Could you have been imagining all of this? “Just…don’t scare me this time,” you requested in a small voice.
“My apologies,” a muffled voice spoke earnestly from within the sarcophagus.
“I am crazy,” you sighed. “I’m talking to an ancient mummy in a museum.”
“I am Ahkmenrah. Fourth King of the Fourth King, Ruler of the land of my fathers. Please, release me.”
“And you’re…alive? How?” You asked, absolutely dumbfounded.
“My tablet, it brings life to everything in this museum at night.”
Turning around, you tilted your head curiously. The tablet of Ahkmenrah. Made of solid gold, it was seen as the most prized possession within the entire collection. Even more than the pharaoh himself.
“Why are you trapped? Have you not told either of the night guards?”
Though muffled through his wrappings and his sarcophagus, you could clearly identify sorrow when you heard it.
“I do not truly know. I have called out each night for years, but to no prevail”
“Alright,” you took a steadying breath. Stepping over to your right, you aligned the palms of your hands with the side of the stone slab. It was the original lid to the rectangular coffin, but was placed in such a way to have the decorative face of the sarcophagus on display. “This goes against my better judgement…and my favorite 1999 film.”
Pushing against the heavy block, it hardly budged. With a shift of your feet, you got better footing. “Come on,” you strained, putting as much of your body weight into your effort as possible.
One more try, and your shoe slipped, squeaking beneath you as your chest hit the lid. “Ah,” you winced. Shaking your head slowly, winded. You stood back up/straighter. “I’m sorry—I…I’m not strong enough.”
Ahkmenrah was silent. Not a shake of his voice or embellished lid.
“Maybe I can get a friend of mine, a colleague, to help me tomorrow night,” you offered, making your way back over to his golden likeness. “Would that be all right?”
“Yes. That would be wonderful,” he replied. A lightness that was not in his voice before, shined.
“I don’t want you to feel alone otherwise.”
“Thank you.”
Before you could add any more to the conversation, you stopped. Footsteps from the hall outside made its way into the room. And then a voice. Polite yet firm in acknowledging your presence.
“It’s past closing,” he announced, making your head snap up in his direction.
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry,” you stood straighter, “I guess I just lost track of time.”
The light glinted off of his white hair as he stepped up to the small roped off barricade in front of the case. “Admiring history will do that to you,” he nodded.
“Yes.” Internally, you hesitated, but dared not show it. You were given permission to be there. It was a part of your profession.
His brows rose. “Getting acquainted with the pharaoh?”
“Yes, I just had to admire him for a little while longer—after cataloging the hieroglyphs, of course.”
“Yes, of course.”
Remembering, you turned around to retrieve your notebook and pen. Hastily, you stashed them away into your bag. “I won’t keep you any longer, I know you gentlemen have a very important job to do.” Standing back up, you avoided taking a glance at Ahkmenrah’s tablet. You were not sure of the night guards’ reasons for keeping the pharaoh locked away, but you did not want to venture into such a conversation at the moment.
“Here, I’ll walk you out,” he offered when you turned back around/toward him.
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
Holding your bag closer to yourself, you quietly walked between the two lines of the pillars. You kept to yourself all the more when eerie crackling sounds from the tall Anubis statues reached your ears. Chills ran over your skin.
Leaving the Temple of Ahkmenrah exhibit, you played the ignorance card hard. With your notebook back in your hand, you kept your eyes down. Trained to the paper in front of your face, you ignored every sound and movement. And as you reached the revolving doors at the front of the museum, you were certain that you could not ‘accidentally’ stay late again. Something was going on in that museum, but no one else knew. You could only hope to find a suitable reason to be near Ahkmenrah after hours again. Your curiosity and perhaps his sanity depended on it.
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Thank you for reading! Be sure to check out my Masterlist for more fanfictions :)
#ahkmenrah#natm fandom#natm#ahkmenrah x reader#ahkmenrah x you#ahkmenrah fanfic#ahkmenrah fanfiction#ahkmenrah insert reader#night at the museum#night at the museum x reader#night at the museum fanfiction#night at the museum fanfic#halloween fanfic#halloween fanfiction#natm ahkmenrah
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Alive // Chad Meeks Martin x Reader x Ethan Landry
request: Heyy, i love your fanfics! Could you possibly do a part 2 of "more than this"? I absolutely adored it, and I was wondering if you might be able to write a part 2. Thank you 😁
prompts: none!
summary: after ethan kissed you, you didn’t know how to feel. you already have a boyfriend, chad, who you absolutely adore. but could there be something there with ethan? what are you gonna do?
warnings: smut, cheating, cunnilingus, dirty talk (kinda), language, alcohol consumption, loss of virginity (ethan)
word count: 2.5k
a/n: reader has female anatomy, but there aren’t any pronouns used. only physical description is that they’re shorter than ethan (which isn’t very hard he’s freaking 6’2)
part 1 part 3
My mother told me I should go and get some therapy
I asked the doctor, "Can you find out what is wrong with me?"
I don't know why I wanna be with every girl I meet
I can't control it, yeah, I know it's takin' over me
“Ethan! Ethan, please! Open the door!” you shouted, knocking on the door to his dorm room.
To anyone walking by it looked like you were pissed, ready to tear into someone, either verbally or physically. But that wasn’t the case. You were just desperate to see Ethan. He had been avoiding you ever since he had kissed you after you confronted him in the quad. And all that you wanted was to talk to him. To see him. To just be with him. You hadn’t stopped thinking about the feeling of his lips on yours. He was all you could think about. And it was driving you crazy.
“What do you want?” he asked from the other side of the door.
His voice sounded shaky. Broken. Like he had been crying. You wouldn’t blame him, especially given the way things were left between the two of you. You almost cried a few times over it too.
“I need to talk to you. Please. Just let me in, Ethan.”
Let me in. The same words you had said to him when you were trying to find out why he was acting strange. The same words that led to him kissing you and then running off, leaving you there dumbfounded and confused.
“Why? I get it. I know I shouldn’t have done what I did. Can’t we just forget it? Haven’t I already suffered enough?” his voice cracked as he spoke, and you almost could’ve sworn you heard him sniffle.
“But what if I don’t want to forget it?”
A pause. Silence. And then…
The door creaked open slowly, Ethan peeking out from behind it. His eyes were red and puffy and dried tears stained his cheeks. He looked utterly miserable and you felt your heart ache at the sight.
“What…?”
You sighed. “You heard me. I don’t want to forget it.”
You pushed on the door gently, and Ethan let you open it. You stepped inside and shut the door behind you. When you looked back up your breath hitched. Had he been that close before?
“I-,” Ethan began.
You couldn’t wait for him to finish. You stepped forward and leaned up, kissing him. Your arms wrapped around his neck and you pulled him closer. Ethan squeaked in surprise, shocked by your actions. A few seconds later he started to kiss you back, his hands moving to your waist.
“Wait,” Ethan said, pulling away. “We can’t. Chad-”
“Chad is in class for the next hour. We don’t have to worry about him.”
“But-”
“Do you want me?”
“W-what?”
“Do you want me?” you repeated, your eyes glued to his.
He nodded, his ability to speak being swallowed by his shock.
“I want you too. Nothing else has to matter right now.”
You pulled him down into another kiss.
I'm going crazy, can't contain it
So tell me just what I should do
You panted as you collapsed beside Ethan on his bed. Your head felt dizzy and your body was tingly. Chad was good, but Ethan… Holy fucking shit. You couldn’t believe you had been depriving yourself of that for this long.
Ethan gave you a dopey smile, pulling you to rest your head on his chest. “Would now be a bad time to mention that I was a virgin?”
Your eyes went wide and you sat up, turning to face him. You were shocked, and honestly… impressed. But Ethan didn’t take your expression in the way you intended it.
His cheeks flushed red and he pulled his arm over his face. “I- I’m sorry. I know I should’ve said something. But I was just so caught up with what was happening, and I- I didn’t think… It wasn’t that bad, was it?” he asked, his pitch growing higher with nerves.
“No! God no! I- I just wasn’t expecting it is all,” you said, your hands gently pulling his arm away from his face.
“You didn’t think I was a virgin? Why…?” he looked utterly confused, and your heart swelled at how adorable he looked.
“Well, I mean you look like that. And you’re good. I mean like really good…” you trailed off, growing embarrassed by your own words.
Ethan’s face flushed even darker, and a smile grew on his face. “...You think so?”
You nodded, laying back down and burying your face in his neck. He laughed softly, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you closer. He opened his mouth to speak again when…
“Ethan? You up yet?” Chad called out, shutting the front door behind him. “You better be awake, we have class in twenty minutes.”
The color drained from your face as you heard Chad’s footsteps getting closer. You looked up at Ethan in panic, and in a sudden moment of either pure genius or idiocy, Ethan threw the comforter over your head.
“Ethan. Wake u-” Chad paused after opening the door, seeing the very clear outline of another person in Ethan’s bed. “Oh. My bad. I wasn’t aware that you had company. I’ll leave the two of you alone then.”
Chad backed out of the room, a proud smile on his face. Before he shut the door, he mouthed to Ethan, “Nice job man!”
She said, "Hey, it's alright, does it make you feel alive?
Don't look back, live your life, even if it's only for tonight"
She said, "Hey, it's alright, if it makes you feel alive"
You pushed the blankets off of your head, sitting back up. You turned over to Ethan and he looked utterly terrified. You placed your hand on his cheek, turning his head towards you.
“Hey. Are you okay?” you asked, concern present in your voice.
He nodded his head, but then shook it immediately after. “I- What are we doing? He’s your boyfriend. And he’s my best friend! I just- This isn’t right.”
“I don’t like doing this to him anymore than you do. But, I don’t want to just leave him. I love him, Ethan. Like, I really love him. But… I feel something for you too.”
Ethan sighed, sitting up and leaning back against the headboard. Your breath got caught in your throat at the sight of his bare chest, and you had to look away before sinful thoughts appeared in your mind.
“You’re gonna choose him, aren’t you? I mean you said it yourself, you love him. I’m just something. I- I don’t know why I thought-”
You placed your hand over his mouth to get him to stop speaking. Pulling it away, you moved to straddle his lap so you could face him better.
“Who said anything about choosing? I love him, and yes, I don’t want to lose him. But I don’t want to lose you either. And maybe it’s wrong, but you have to admit it’s a little exciting.”
Ethan nodded, a smile growing on his face. “Yeah. I- I guess you’re right. It is a little exciting.”
“I don’t have to decide anything right now. I’m going to stay with Chad, but that doesn’t mean I want to stop seeing you.”
Went to a party, just after the doctor talked to me
I met a girl, I took her hand up to the balcony
I whispered somethin' in her ear that I just can't repeat
She said, "Okay," but she was worried what her friends would think
In the next few weeks, you definitely didn’t stop seeing Ethan. Whenever Chad was busy, you were sneaking around with Ethan. A few times, you and Ethan had almost gotten caught. But you were careful. Chad was just as clueless and as hopelessly in love with you as ever.
And so, here you were. At yet another frat party that Chad dragged you and Ethan too. Chad had wandered off somewhere, probably playing some drinking game, on his way to getting blackout drunk. You stood in an empty corner, an untouched cup of spiked punch in your hand, watching the chaos unfold around you. You could never understand how Chad actually liked these things.
You felt a presence beside you, and you turned to see Ethan standing next to you. He looked slightly tipsy, thanks to the shot Chad forced him to take. But he also looked a lot more confident. That was definitely going to make things interesting.
Ethan leaned down to whisper in your ear. “You look so hot tonight. I can barely control myself around you when you’re wearing that dress.”
You giggled, twirling around to give him a better look at the dress. Ethan almost let out a whimper at the sight of you. His face was flushed and he couldn’t stop gnawing on his bottom lip.
“So don’t,” you whispered back, a small smirk on your face.
“What…?”
“You heard me,” you stood up on your toes to whisper in his ear. “Don’t control yourself.”
She's going crazy, can't contain it
She asked me, "What should I do?"
You laid back on the random bed in the empty room you and Ethan had stumbled into. Your dress had been hiked up over your hips and your panties were dangling off your ankle. Ethan kneeled beside the bed, one of your legs over each of his shoulders. He gripped onto your thighs tightly, keeping them pulled apart.
You whined softly and bucked your hips up towards Ethan, making him let out a breathy laugh at your actions. He blew cold air against your dripping core, making you twitch and let out another whine.
“Ethan… Fuck. Please…” you pleaded, trying to move your hips closer to his mouth.
“Patience baby, I’m admiring you. You’ll get what you want in time,” he replied, sounding slightly out of breath.
Despite the seemingly dominant position Ethan held over you, you both knew the truth. He really was just admiring you, he wasn’t trying to tease you or make you wait. He was just as desperate for this as you were, if not more. He was addicted to you, every single part of you. He could never get enough. Which was why he couldn’t bring himself to care that Chad was just downstairs.
Groaning in frustration, you reached down and gripped Ethan’s hair, pulling him to where you wanted him. You let out a sigh of both pleasure and relief when you finally felt Ethan’s tongue come in contact with your achy and soaked core. He lapped at your dripping cunt eagerly, moaning at the taste of you.
“Fuck…” you moaned out, gripping his hair even tighter, causing him to whimper underneath you.
“God, you taste so fucking good,” Ethan said, sucking on your clit.
You moaned louder, your back arching and your hips bucking against his mouth. Ethan moved one of the hands that was holding your thighs to rest across your hips, keeping you pressed down against the bed.
“Stay still baby, I’m trying to enjoy my treat.”
The two of you were so enthralled with each other that you didn’t hear the door, which neither of you thought to lock, being pushed open.
“Y/n?”
I said, "Hey, it's alright, does it make you feel alive?
Don't look back, live your life, even if it's only for tonight"
I said, "Hey, it's alright, if it makes you feel alive"
Your eyes went wide at the sound of Chad’s voice and you sat up, instantly moving away from Ethan and pulling your dress back down. Ethan turned around to see Chad looking between the two of you, his face doing nothing to hide the sheer panic he felt.
“Chad…” you whispered out, your eyes watering as you looked up at him.
He didn’t look angry. He didn’t even look sad. There was just nothing. There wasn’t a single identifiable emotion on his face, and that scared you even more.
You slipped your other leg through your panties, pulling them back on. You stood up and walked over to Chad. Ethan stood up too, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.
“Y/n, what is this?” Chad asked, looking at you but not, it almost felt like he was looking through you.
“I- I can explain,” you said, your voice breaking as you looked up at him.
Chad shook his head, and his eyes watered. You felt your heart shatter. You reached up to touch his cheek, but he stepped back before you could.
“Do- do you still love me…?” Chad said, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Yes! Of course I still love you Chad! You’re everything to me!”
“Then- then why…?”
Ethan sighed, looking down at the floor. “It’s my fault.”
We gotta live before we get older
Do what we like, we got nothing to lose
Shake off the weight of the world from your shoulders
Woah, we've got nothing to prove
Ethan explained everything that had happened between you and him, still not lifting his gaze from the floor. Chad stood there silently, and you could hear your heart pounding in your ears. You had never seen Chad so… dull. Lifeless. He was always so happy, vibrant. And to know that you had caused this, that you caused him to look so empty, it made every single piece of your being want to explode.
What had you done? You had hurt the person you loved most in this world. And for what? Some stupid fling? If you could take it all back, you would. Sure, Ethan was fun. It was exciting sneaking around and seeing each other in secret. But the look on Chad’s face…
You had never felt worse. How could you hurt him? It wasn’t worth it. Nothing was worth it. Nothing was worth losing the man that you loved. He looked so miserable. Betrayed. You had caused this. And if you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t see a way to fix this.
I said, "Hey, it's alright, does it make you feel alive?
Don't look back, live your life, even if it's only for tonight"
“Chad…” you said, stepping towards him.
He backed away, his eyes flitting to you. You felt your stomach sink when you saw a few tears running down his face.
“Don’t. I- I can’t- I can’t deal with all of this right now,” Chad said, his eyes moving between you and Ethan.
As you looked closer, you saw something strange. Sure, he was still hurt by what you had done. But there was something else in his eyes. Excitement…? No, that couldn’t be right. You had cheated on him. He had walked in on you fucking his best friend. Why would he be excited? It didn’t make any sense to you. Unless…
“I- I should go,” Chad said, turning around and walking through the door.
“No- Chad, wait!” you called, stepping out into the hallway, but he was already gone.
You sighed in defeat and turned back to Ethan, who looked equally as deflated as you were.
“What’re we gonna do?”
I said, "Hey, it's alright, does it make you feel alive?
Don't look back, live your life, even if it's only for tonight"
I said, "Hey, it's alright, if it makes you feel alive"
tags: @wenvierismycomfort
if your name is crossed off, it means i can’t tag you!
#imagine#imagines#x reader#oneshot#scream#smut#scream 6#ethan landry#ethan landry x reader#ethan landry imagine#ethan landry oneshot#ethan landry smut#chad meeks martin x reader#chad meeks martin#chad meeks martin oneshot#chad meeks martin imagine#chad meeks martin smut#chad meeks#chad meeks x reader#chad meeks imagine#chad meeks oneshot#chad meeks smut#fanfic#fanfiction#scream x reader#scream imagine#scream oneshot#scream smut#scream fanfic#scream fanfiction
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The Key To Your Heart - Track 6
Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Musician!Reader
Series Summary: After writing your feelings for Pedro into a song, it gains a lot more popularity than expected. Ultimately it brings both criticism and support, with new possibilities around the corner.
Series Warnings: 18+ only (MDNI). Mentions of food, weight loss, weight gain, dieting, weighing, potential eating disorder, food guilt. Potential for puns/dad jokes (name of my blog, and the fic) should give that away. This is my first fic which should be its own warning, lol. Also some cursing. Mentions of masturbation (f) maybe more smut later idk. Sadness, reader is pretty depressed. Poor body image. Rude people. Bullying-ish and just lack of support? Anxiety. Age gap! Reader is in her mid 20's, Pedro is current age (48).
Other stuff: Reader is plus sized. AFAB. Inexperienced. Also has a dog, but you can pretend it is another creature probably. Further, in case it isn't clear, italics almost always are the reader's inner thoughts!
Word Count: 4K
Series List: Here!
Miss last chapter? Here!
This one's a little longer than the last few, but it's one I was really excited to get to for a while. I hope you guys like it! We're starting to get into the nitty gritty! Once again please let me know what you think of it! Thank you all for your support :)
__________
After your emotional conversation with Pedro, you were worried he'd stop talking to you. At least, it seems that's how it usually works. Whenever you try to have a conversation about emotions with someone, it gets shut down. But surprisingly.. it didn't push Pedro away at all. The two of you talk nearly every day on the phone, and when you don't, it's made up for with plenty of text messages. You don't even have to be the first to communicate, either. It just feels natural. It doesn't need to be over-thought.
You keep telling yourself not to get your hopes up, but at the same time, you feel like maybe it's turning into something. Something more than friends. You couldn't help but wonder if Pedro felt the same way, or if maybe he's just a really nice guy.
Despite these feelings, you're still hesitant to tell him you love him. Although he put many of your fears to rest, you continued to be nervous. You were inexperienced. You were significantly younger than him. You led two very different lives. And even though he reassured you about your appearances, it doesn't mean you'd be his type once he actually saw you. Shoot, you don't even know if he's interested in pursuing a relationship.
Plus, now there's the risk of messing up a new friendship. Why ruin it?
How does anyone ever get into a relationship? Others make it look so easy, jumping from relationship to relationship like their heart isn't at stake.
Maybe someday you'd tell him. Maybe someday you'd share these other fears as well. But not yet. You weren't ready.
_____
About a week had gone by since you first talked on the phone, and it was around 1 PM when he called you.
"Hey Pedro!"
"Hey there, songbird," he replied cheerily.
"Songbird?" You giggled.
"If you hate it-"
"No, I love it. It's sweet," you blushed.
"Okay good. But the reason I'm calling is because I saw something on Instagram…"
"Oh yeah? What of?"
"About you. When were you going to tell me?"
Oh fuck. Oh shit. Oh what? What is he referring to?
You nervously laughed "I… what? Tell you what now?"
"Your album is coming out in a WEEK!??!" He practically yelled with excitement.
Seriously… this guy. Giving me a damn heart attack.
"OH" you replied sheepishly. "You scared me, thinking you heard… I dunno"
"Oh! I'm sorry. No. I haven't heard any information that you haven't told me yourself, nor would I believe it anyway. Other than.. this album!!!" Pedro announced like a gameshow host.
You laughed before replying "yes, yes, the album comes out next week! They just announced it I guess."
Pedro clapped and shouted. "CONGRATULATIONS!!!! I'm so happy and proud of you!!!!!!!!"
You weren't looking in a mirror, and he couldn't see you either, but you could bet money that your cheeks were a bright shade of pink. "Thank you, Pedro!" You giggled, your face beginning to hurt from the large smile he caused.
"How are you celebrating? Is the studio doing anything for you?"
"Well they mentioned an album release party, but being that nobody really knows me I don't know who I would even invite. Plus I'm not sure that a large thing like that is how I'd like to show myself to the world. A little too ceremonious for my liking." You grimaced.
"Well, I happen to think you deserve something ceremonious, even if you don't think you do. And I think we should celebrate."
"We - you - you do? You mean…?" You stuttered in disbelief.
"You and me," he said matter-of-factly.
"You.. and… What did you have in mind?"
Frankly you didn't know what to think.
"Well. I was thinking… Maybe we could listen to the album together? We could talk on the phone and listen, and it would be like our own little album release party. You wouldn't have to show yourself or meet people. It would just be like our normal conversations. Except I'd get to hear your new music and talk about it with you. If you want," he said, sounding slightly nervous.
Your heart swelled at the gesture and you agreed happily. The two of you made a plan to "meet" at 7PM and listen together the night of your album release. And he promised he wouldn't listen without you.
_____
It wasn't until after you were off the phone with him that you began to overthink the songs on your album. Not unlike your first single, these were also rather vulnerable at times. Sure, he knew a lot, and he'd listen to the album anyway. Probably. But still. To hear it… together? You were starting to feel like you were in over your head.
Nevertheless, the week continued on like normal. Work, talking to Pedro, hanging with Skipper. You agreed to a few more interviews in article or voice format after the release, and signed a few last minute things.
As the album date approached closer, Pedro texted you one day.
"Okay I'm going to ask you something and I want you to trust me okay. I'm not going to do anything that I know you would hate."
"Okay…" what does this man have up his sleeve?
"Can I have your address?"
Why does he want my address???? The panic settled in. But, you did like him; and he hadn't crossed any boundaries yet. In fact, he's been one of the most understanding of your qualms.
So. You sent him your address.
"Thank you ❤️" Pedro replied.
A heart !?! A red one!?
"You're welcome. Also… I was planning to tell you anyway, but if you're looking for my address I may as well tell you…" you told him your real name. Not your stage name. Not a nickname. But your name. First, Last. All of it.
"Thank you for trusting me. I promise I'll keep it safe," reassured Pedro.
"Thank you, P."
"Of course. You have a beautiful name, by the way."
Your heart did a somersault.
_____
The album release date was finally here and you aren't sure you slept a wink. You were a bundle of nerves and excitement. You loved him and always enjoyed chatting together. This was exciting. But also these songs are so personal. This is a big moment. This was a big plan. And why did he want your address anyway?
~~~~~
Meanwhile at Pedro's place, he was just as nervous. He had started out excited, but then he got into his head. His plans for the evening started feeling too romantic. He didn't want you to get the wrong idea. He liked you, but he didn't want to push it. Maybe he was showing too many feelings towards you. You love someone else, and him not respecting that is rude. All you want is a friend and he's just going to seem like another one of those creepy guys trying to get into your pants.
But it was too late now, the plans were in motion, and maybe you'd enjoy it. Who knows. Either way, he loved your friendship, and friends could do this kind of thing for each other… right??
~~~~~
Throughout the day, you paced your house before finally leaving with Skipper in tow. "We gotta get some air, buddy. I'm losing it over here," you said while clipping his leash.
Stepping out of the house, you two went for a long walk, circled back toward home, and plopped down on your lawn. The house still felt too small in preparation for this evening, whatever it was. Why does it feel different anyway? It's just another phone call..? Unless….
Truth be told, while Pedro had his secret plans, you also had some of your own. Whether you followed through with them or not was up to your nerves.
After some sunbathing with your pup, you both head inside. The sun was starting to set, and you realized it was getting closer to the meetup time you chose with Pedro.
_____
6 PM.
You stared at the TV, not really absorbing anything on the screen, but needing a distraction. This afternoon you opted for a show that Pedro was not in. For once, you needed to not see his handsome face. You needed something else. Half paying attention while picking at a hangnail, you jump out of your skin at the sight of your phone lighting up. Pedro texted.
"Picking out my outfit for tonight! Always important to look nice for celebration."
Shit… he's not coming over is he?! That's why he wanted my address?!
"Wait…" you pondered how to phrase your question without sounding like a panicked asshole, when all you wanted to say was "what the fuck do you MEAN!?!"
I'm not dressed. I'm in sweats and covered in dog hair. I don't have makeup on. Oh no.
"Wait… is that why you wanted my address?"
"Oh. Nooo, no no. No, sweet girl, don't worry. I'm not coming over unexpectedly and interrupting your hiding place. I just think it's still important to dress nice."
"Oh..Okay.."
It was around 6:15 when he texted a picture of himself wearing a white button up with a dark blue suit and matching tie. He wore dark-frame glasses and his hair was slightly tamed, but still showed his messy curls. He looked gorgeous.
But as you scanned his body you noticed that instead of dress shoes, he wore a pair of polka dot socks. He had a goofy grin and his one eyebrow was cocked. You grinned.
"All dressed up and nowhere to go," he said.
"You're a goof, P. But I appreciate the effort."
A pause.
"Also, you look really handsome" you nervously hit send before you had a chance to chicken out.
Bold. Probably shouldn't have said that. But hey, friends compliment each other.
"Why thank you. A big accomplishment like this requires all the stops."
He timed this message right to the minute. As you read his text, your doorbell rang.
You opened the door to find two boxes. One large, one small. A delivery boy was getting into his car.
"Delivery from your biggest fan.
-❤️, P"
He… he sent me some kind of care package?? And put a heart? And said he's my biggest fan?
You squealed and carried the boxes into the house. "What's this!?" You texted Pedro.
"Open them and see!"
You immediately open them. Inside the larger box was a variety of items. The first thing you noticed was a small vase holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers. To the right of that was a bag, which you opened and found your favorite meal, from your favorite restaurant.
Wow, this is elaborate.
Below the food was another small bag holding your favorite dessert, and finally to the left, your favorite drink.
I can't believe he remembered all of my favorite things.. This is so thoughtful.
When you moved the flower vase, you noticed one more small item. Is that a… corsage?? You texted Pedro the question.
"Yep!" He sent, with a photo of a matching flower on his lapel.
Remembering you still had the small box, you opened the box flaps, wondering what could possibly be left for him to give you. On top of it was another note.
"For a handsome boy.
- ❤️, your mom's friend, Pedro"
Under the note was a jar of peanut butter, a squeaky anchor toy, and…? What's this?
You unwrap a small paper wrapping to find a dog-sized black bowtie. Shut up.
"SKIPPER!!! Look what Pedro gave you, buddy!"
He padded over to you and let you hook the dressy accessory around his neck. With the clip adjusted, he sat back, looking proud of his new fashion. You quickly snapped a picture and texted it to Pedro.
"I can't believe you did all this, Pedro. Not only did you send all this, but you remembered my favorite things? You remembered all the details from when I first met Skipper. My favorite food, dessert, drink, and flower? That's so sweet, this is all too much Pedro.. Nobody has ever done anything like this for me. I.. I don't even know what to say."
You're amazing and I love you. Is what I want to say.
"You're welcome." He texted back. "Like I said, you deserve a celebration. Plus…"
Pedro sent a photo of his table, set up with the same food and drink, with the caption "now it's like we're having a dinner party."
It was nearing the time to meet, but you still had to do one more thing. You had pondered it earlier in the day, but fully decided it when Pedro sent the photo of himself dressed up. It's now or never.
_____
6:45 PM.
Pedro sat waiting for a reply after he sent his dinner photo. It had only been a couple minutes, but his hands were sweaty and his leg was shaking under the table. Finally, his phone went off. You sent… a video?
He opened it and pressed play. There, he saw you rotating your wrist with the corsage on it. The first time he's ever seen your wrist, hand, or arm before. The first time he's even seen your skin tone.
Geez you act like you're in the Victorian ages, pull yourself together, he rolled his eyes at himself for being so overjoyed.
Next, the video panned to Skipper in his bowtie, looking handsome as ever. The camera zoomed in on him and he looked up into the view with his big brown eyes.
And then…
The camera panned to the side, and showed a mirror. A full length mirror, where you stood. He scanned your body from your perfectly done up hair and makeup, down your body to your dress. You wore your favorite dress, (in your favorite color, he noted) which showed off your body in the best ways. He looked down to the floor and noticed that you too were wearing fun socks instead of shoes. You wore a pair of striped socks and wrote in your caption "all dressed up and nowhere to go."
His heart picked up and he could feel himself breathing unevenly. He finally saw you. And you were gorgeous. He couldn't help the smile that enveloped his face.
Fuck. She's beautiful… I'm screwed.
She loves someone else. She loves someone else. She loves someone else. Forget your feelings.
Despite his struggle, he knew he wanted, and needed, to tell you how beautiful he thought you looked. This was a big step to show yourself, and he also knew how self-conscious you felt about your body.
"Wow, you're so beautiful."
You blushed, replying with a quick thank you with a heart, then sending a second message asking if he was ready to listen. The video wasn't the only trick you had planned up your sleeve tonight.
______
The clock turned to 7 PM and Pedro hit the dial for your number. You answered the phone and said a quick "hang on" to set up the shared listening party link for your album. Once sent, you took a deep breath and steadied your nerves. Then, you took the plunge.
"Okay I got the link! I'm so exci - what - wait, is this an accident?" Pedro's hand fumbled as he received your incoming video chat request, his heart picking up to a galloping pace.
"Nope! You can answer it. If you want.."
He quickly swiped the accept button and there you were. Clad in your favorite dress, sitting at a table with the meal he sent in front of you. He could see himself in the corner square, dressed in his suit, with nearly the identical table setup and food.
He couldn't help but notice on his own video screen that his cheeks were turning rosy and his mouth curled into a large smile. But he was too happy to be shy about his blush.
"So this is you," he said.
"This is me," you replied shyly, but still with a huge smile and blush plastered on your face, matching Pedro's.
"You look.." he sighed shakily "..wow.."
"You look pretty wow yourself there," you said with a shy giggle.
Both of you let out gentle laughs, feeling a warm glow as your stomachs felt matching butterflies of nerves, excitement, and… maybe something else.
"So should we listen, I guess?" You asked nervously.
He didn't answer. He was looking at the screen, eyes scanning the video.
Is he blushing? You wondered. But why would he be? He doesn't like me back… right?
He still hadn't answered you when you finally said "Pedro?? Did you hear me?"
He snapped out of it, somehow turning more crimson. "Oh! Sorry… yeah! Let's listen."
Your nerves were off the charts. Some of these songs were so vulnerable. The ones at the end of the album were the most telling of all.
But as the two of you ate your dinners while listening to your new album, you began to relax. The night was filled with him giving praise and you giving background information on the meanings and production of the songs.
"Are all the different instruments and harmonies played by you?"
"They are! The studio offered studio musicians but I had originally played them all when I wrote it and wanted to keep it a one woman show."
"You're incredible," Pedro said, shaking his head.
You blushed, for the billionth time today.
When it came to "Imaginary Love" Pedro grinned. "Hey I know this one! The one that started it all."
"Yep!" You agreed and he began lip syncing to the lyrics dramatically. Little did he know, those lyrics were actually about him. You giggled as he acted out a soulful rendition of the chorus.
"You know, this whole journey has been a real rollercoaster and there have been times I've wished I hadn't posted that song..."
Pedro looked at you with that puppy dog look of his and you continued "but then I remember… that if I never posted it, I would've never started talking to you, and it makes it all worth it."
Pedro placed his hand on his heart and pouted his lip. "I agree. I'm glad to have met you. If I didn't love this song already, that alone would be enough reason for me to consider it one of my favorites.
You grinned and looked down at the table, suddenly feeling shy. The two of you continued to listen, having long finished your dinner. Conversation flowed easily, and you couldn't help but feel like you were on a date. Not that you had much experience with that, but from what you'd seen in movies and shows, this felt very date-like. And you didn't want it to end.
But as the album went on, you approached the last two songs. The ones you were scared of most. The most vulnerable of the album.
The second to last began to play.
'It's hard to imagine craving something that I've never had.
Dumb to be so desperate for something I've gone without.
But when I'm alone and thinking to myself, I need it so bad.
I crave it like a drug, but one I know nothing about.
Your kiss on my lips, or any kiss at all.
It hasn't happened yet, no matter how hard I fall.
The years keep passing, but still no love.
The years go by, but still no kisses.
I keep wondering and praying up above,
I guess I'm unkissable, despite my wishes.'
Pedro furrowed his brow, looking at you, searching for something. He read the title of the song, "Unkissable," and looked up again, opening and closing his mouth to find the right words.
"Do-" he stopped himself and pondered his wording again. "Is- are all these songs true?"
You stared at the table, picking your nail against the wood. "Yes."
"You really believe that?"
"... I mean… I don't know… maybe… I guess…" you avoided his gaze, but could feel it.
"And you've never-"
"Kissed anyone before? No. I haven't."
"But you've wanted to?"
"Yes," you whispered, starting to feel tears prick at your eyes.
Pedro shifted his lips to the side in thought before finally saying "well… you're still young. It'll happen."
"I'm 26, Pedro. Most people have kissed by the time they've graduated high school. I just… missed the boat I guess. It's okay. I'm just being silly. I don't want it that bad. We can maybe listen to something else now."
"Hey, hey. Don't shut down on me," he asked pleadingly. "26 is still very young, and don't worry about whenever everyone else has done things. Everyone does things at their own pace. I'm sorry you haven't experienced it yet, especially when you want it so badly, but I know that when it does happen, it'll probably be better than any kiss you would've had with some 15 year old boy you would've had in high school."
You laughed, breaking your tears for a minute. "Thanks Pedro."
"Of course. And hey, don't think of yourself as unkissable. Any guy should be so lucky to be with you. Maybe the guy you wrote about in your song will be your first."
"Maybe… I hope so. Thank you."
While your heart bloomed at the kind words and prospect of maybe kissing Pedro in the future, Pedro's heart began to ache. Not only was he sad for you when you wanted love so desperately, but he also couldn't help but feel sad hearing you want to kiss another man. He wants to be that guy for you. He wasn't joking when he said any man would be lucky. But especially knowing now your true age, 22 years younger than him, he knew for sure your crush couldn't be him. You were way too young to be interested in a 48 year old man. He was silly for even entertaining the idea.
But at least he had a new friend. And as he thought longer, he thought about his best friend Sarah, and her relationship. They have a huge age gap, 32 years, but they're happy. And he's happy for her. It doesn't feel weird with them. Could he have that with you? Or is he in over his head?
The last song on the album began to play. This one was less vulnerable, but if he decided to look at the lyrics and notice patterns, he'd see it in the chorus.
'People have a lot to say
Everyone loves or hates me
Don't know what I did today
Right now you're all I can see
Only want to be with you.
Please, love me too.'
You're sure the obsessive listeners will figure out the acrostic, and if Pedro looks up the lyrics, he might too. But either way, it's out there. All you can do is hope for the best and eventually you're sure it'll come out anyway.
This wasn't one you were sure about putting on the album, but when the studio read through your personal songbook, they went insane over it. They figured it out quickly, and they promised they'd keep it to themselves. Luckily they have so far, but if money came calling, you think they'd sell your heart faster than you could say no.
The song, and album, came to a close and Pedro looked up at the screen once again, staring into your eyes. "Once again your music has blown me away."
Whether he put together the end or not, he wasn't letting on.
"Thank you Pedro. I really appreciate it. And thank you for tonight. It was truly special and I mean it when I say it's the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me. You didn't have to go through all that trouble," you said thoughtfully.
"It was no trouble. You deserve congratulations for your album," Pedro replied with a smile.
Right.. it's just a congratulations. Nothing else. You sighed.
"Thank you. I'm really glad we did this. Talk again soon?" You asked.
"Absolutely. It was wonderful to meet you finally," Pedro said, finishing the sentence with your real name and smiling.
"It was great to meet you too, Pedro."
__________
I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thank you for reading.
Looking for more? Next chapter!
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𝐌𝐲 𝐒𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧
*Gif not mine credits to the owner*
• Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader.
• Requested: no.
• Summary: after a long day at work, the only thing Spencer wants to do is go back home to his family.
• Warnings: none, just fluff.
• Word count: 1814.
• A/N: here is my first Spencer fic. It’s ugly as fuck and I wanted it do be better but I hope you’ll like it, I’m sorry for this but it’s just a period of time where I’m not feeling 100% myself so that’s what I managed to do lol. Let me know what do you think, likes, comments and reblogs are very appreciated. Thank you for your constant support. Love you all ❤️
Spencer was as tired as he'd been a few times in his life.
The case the team had worked on had been particularly stressful, tiring and draining like few others and even though it had only been four days since the team had left for Boston, it felt like they had lasted forever.
And the distance from his family helped to further increase this already particularly precarious state of mind. It wasn't the first time he was forced to fly away for days to another city for work but that didn't make it any easier, especially then, because it wasn't just you and him anymore, but there was also little Reid.
It was incredible how such a small little being had managed to turn his life upside down, in such an overwhelming way he couldn't even stay a minute without thinking of him and without feeling the desire to hold him in his arms and fill him with cuddles.
Even staying away from you had become much more difficult than he could’ve ever imagined. He couldn't quite explain why, but ever since the baby was born he felt the bond with you had strengthened even more. He had heard so many stories of couples who couldn't resist, who got carried away by events and weren't strong enough to overcome the present difficulties and it was impossible to explain why, God, he worshiped the earth you walked on and he would’ve done anything to ensure your well-being, after all it was the least he could do for the mother of his child.
Ever since you told him you were pregnant and throughout the pregnancy until you became parents, it was as if he started to look at you with different eyes and the love he felt towards you increased dramatically, which he didn't even believe possible since he already loved you like crazy like he never did in his life.
Seeing you become the beautiful mother you were meant to be, carrying his child, God, he would’ve impregnated you every day if he could and if it was simple.
If anyone had ever told him he’d find the love of his life, that he’d marry you and have a child with you, he would probably have burst out laughing because he never, ever expected to be overwhelmed by such joy and to experience such a miracle.
And it was enough for him to cross the threshold of your home for him to feel that emptiness inside him finally filled again, happiness crossing him when he heard your voice mixed with little Reid's giggles.
Spencer walked into the kitchen and leaned against the door frame, his arms folded across his chest as he took a moment to watch you and your baby together. He was sitting in his high chair, his little legs and arms flapping in the air, his little face dirty with the food you desperately tried to give him but which he refused.
That simple scene put a huge smile onto Spencer's face and it was at that precise moment he wondered how he had ever lived without this.
You were gorgeous. Your hair gathered in a bun, your home clothes slightly soiled with food while you tried to distract your little one so you could feed him but in doing so you yourself distracted yourself, not realizing Spencer's presence.
Damn it, how had he gotten so lucky? What had he done to deserve such a perfect family?
“Hello my loves,” Spencer had announced and at that point you turned abruptly towards him, a huge smile on your face not expecting to see him and the spoon suspended in mid-air.
“Baby oh my god! When did you come back?!” you asked and before you could get up to say hello he approached you, placing his hands on your shoulders and giving you a kiss on your lips. He wanted that little kiss to last forever, making him realize how much he missed you, so much more than he thought.
“I just got back darling, I wanted to surprise you,” he replied with a smile on his lips and stroking your hair before returning his eyes to his baby, who at the mere sight of his father began to fidget more in his high chair, a huge smile on his little face. “And who do we have here? Hey, you little one! Come here to your pops.”
Before you could object by telling him you were trying to get him to eat, Spencer took him in his arms and the joy that overwhelmed him when after all that time he hugged his son again was priceless. “God I missed you so much little man,” he murmured as he kissed his little one's chubby cheeks not caring they were dirty with food. His laughter echoed through the kitchen, making your heart leap with joy.
It was so hard when Spencer was away for work, you couldn't deny it, but it was times like these that made the distance, the anxiety and worry worth it.
“You treated your gorgeous mom right huh? Have you been a good boy?” Spencer asked, as if his son could answer.
“Da-da-da...” the little boy kept babbling and you wanted to immortalize Spencer's expression after hearing his son say 'dad' for the first time.
“What?” Spencer murmured, incredulous, looking at you for a moment just to make sure you heard that too. “Can you repeat for me baby? Dada, yes say it again, da-da.”
“Da-da-...” your baby kept babbling while his sticky little hands continued to touch his father's face and it was at that moment you noticed Spencer's eyes fill with tears, while he tried to hold them back and not cry. Out of joy and contentment he started to kiss and tickle his baby, over and over again, eliciting uncontrolled laughter from him.
“Yeah! That's my buddy!” Spencer exclaimed before showering the boy with kisses, who kept squeezing and returning those kisses as best he could. “Yes! Oh my god! Yes I’m your dada!”.
“Do you have any idea how much I love you?” he whispered, rubbing his nose tenderly against his son's. Your heart peeped into your chest and never as in that precise moment you felt more proud of your family, of the love your child would always receive from both parents.
You continued to watch that tender and very sweet scene, Spencer who continued to talk and look at his son as if he was the most beautiful of wonders.
Spencer wasn't joking when he said that little creature had saved his life, he made him a better husband, a better man, he made him love life even more and had made him understand how precious it was.
He had never been good at dealing with feelings, he was a scientific person, he believed in science, in evidence, in hypotheses that were verified, but everything that happened to him when he was with you, with his baby, was beyond rationality, the love he felt for you two couldn’t be described, it was a visceral love that could not be enclosed in a few simple words.
“You are the best thing that has happened to my life, your mom seriously couldn't have given me a better present and I am so proud of you,” he kissed mini Spencer's little forehead “I'm so sorry I was gone buddy, I’d never want to be away from you and your mama.”
He directed his gaze to you for an instant, a frown on his face as he noticed the tears streaming down your face, which you tried to wipe away in time but to no avail.
“Hey, baby what's wrong? Come here.”
Spencer drew you to him and surrounded your shoulders with his free arm, squeezing you and leaving a kiss on your forehead. “Nothing bad love, it's just… I'm so happy, you make me so happy. I couldn't ask for a better father for my son.”
He smiled but burst out laughing immediately afterwards when your baby stretched out his arm towards you and grabbed a lock of hair that had escaped the bun with his little hand, ruining that beautiful moment. Damn, how could a person of not even 50 centimeters tall have such strength?
“Hey, hey, no buddy no hurting mommy,” Spencer interjected, pulling your hair out of his hand.
“Oh you're so lucky you're so cute or you were going to have some problems mister, yeah! You're so cute baby, you like hurting mama yeah? Can you say mama?” you said smiling, however pointing a finger at him while instead he continued to laugh and giggle in Spencer's arms, amused by the situation.
“Da-dada-da…”
Your smile instantly disappeared from your face and Spencer started laughing heartily again, head thrown back.
“Yeah! That's my little boy! Dada yes!” he exclaimed, lifting him back into the air a couple of times before showering him with kisses.
“Oh so that’s how are things going mister? Did I go through 20 hours of labor for being disrespected like this?” you affirmed with feigned disappointment and hands on hips, but trying not to smile when you saw Spencer jumping and playing with the baby.
“I love you mommy but I love dada more,” Spencer raised his voice a couple of octaves in an attempt to mimic a child's.
“You're gonna pay so much for this Dr. Spencer Reid.”
“I’ll wait for you with immense pleasure my darling,” he winked at you and just that small action made you want to have ten more children.
You sighed, shaking your head in mock disappointment. “Since you're such best friends you'll be the one to keep feeding him while I'm going to take a nice hot bath,” you approached Spencer, giving him a kiss on the cheek and whispering in his ear “And I'll think of you so intensely when I'll be naked as I soap my wet body and touch myself.”
Spencer was mesmerized and paralyzed for a moment, his blood instantly flowing to his private parts at the mere thought of you naked. His eyes scanned every inch or of your body, devouring your ass with his gaze until your figure disappeared down the aisle.
“Holy shit,” he whispered, “You heard that buddy?” he turned to the baby “How about we take a deal? Now you'll be a good boy and you'll eat everything okay? So I'll give you a nice bath and you'll go to sleep, because dad misses mom so much and he would love to be alone with her. Yes little one, you’re such a good little boy,” he continued carefully placing his baby in his high chair and tying the hooks before starting to feed him again “I’m so proud of you, yes keep eating so in a while it will be dada's turn to pull mama’s hair.”
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Internal Conflict (Part 2 of 3)
Pairing - Batman x F!Hero!Reader
Series - Under Your Skin
Part 1 here | Part 3 here
Summary - Following the aftermath of your fight with the Dark Knight, you end up recieving a call from him asking you for help on one of his cases. Making you wonder, just what is he up to?
Warnings - Canon typical violence, brief mention of death, major character injury, blood. (If I somehow missed a TW, lmk!)
A/N - Since for October I'll be posting what I've written for Kinktober, Part 3 will be coming sometime during Novemeber simply so it isn't lost in the wave of fics! As always hope you enjoy! 💜
Taglist - At the end of the fic. Please message me if you would like to be added/removed.
Word Count - 5.1k
You sighed softly as you wrapped the towel around your body and walked out of the bathroom. The blinds were open, allowing the early morning sunlight to stream into your bedroom. Something that your cat was taking full advantage of as he was fully stretched out across your bed. You chuckled as you briefly stopped to ruffle his fur, earning you a small chirp as his eyes opened and he greeted you.
“How about some breakfast?” He perked up at that, meowing as he got back up onto his paws and followed you from the bedroom to the kitchen.
Today was going to be a good day, you had decided. Not even Batman was going to get you down. Not that he had been doing much in the ways of talking, or arguing, with you anyway. Of course that was likely down to how good you had become at avoiding him or making sure you had left the room before anyone else. Now the only time he spoke to you was during briefing, the middle of a mission or debriefing.
The injury that you had sustained during Lex’s attack had not only kept you away from your usual superhero duties, but had left quite the scar. Some of your focus over the past few weeks had been on healing and slowly building your strength back up, following the advice that Black Canary had given you. Though you had no actual proof, you suspected that the advice had actually come from Batman. Why he hadn’t just given it to you direct, you didn’t understand. You might hate his guts, but he was still a teammate. And a teammate who was very knowledgeable when it came to the medical side of things. If he had any advice to give in regards to that, then you would listen.
The rest of your focus had been on your equipment and future suits. It was important, not only to be prepared, but to stay a few steps ahead of the bad guys.
Now that your leg was fully healed, you would be returning to the Watchtower today. Though had been talking to everyone, other than Batman, through the group chat that The Flash had set up, it wasn’t the same as seeing everyone in person. You had also missed kicking bad guys’ asses and doing your best to make the world a little bit better.
After you had gotten your cat his breakfast, you proceeded to make yourself something and sat down on your couch. It was rare that you were awake this early. Typically waking up either right before or right after midday. You were curious of what sort of trashy tv was on at this time in the morning. As you flipped through the channels, you came across a talkshow that had Bruce Wayne on as their guest star. You didn’t have a clue as to what had been said, but the host was laughing rather hard. With nothing else to watch, you decided to leave it on while you ate. Besides, he was very easy on the eyes. He was a man that you certainly wouldn’t throw out of your bed.
You scoffed and shook your head. Damn. Was this really what you were doing? Fantasising about a well known womanising billionaire? Dammit, you really needed to get out more. It was just a shame that the superhero lifestyle didn’t really allow for that. You switched the tv off and focused on finishing your breakfast. It wasn’t going to do you any good to dwell on things like that. The life that you had choses was a good one, even if it did get lonely at times.
Once you were finished with breakfast, and had finally gotten dressed, you walked over to your bookcase and pulled on rather inconspicuous book. There were several clicking noises and the bookcase slid back before sliding to the side, revealing a hidden elevator. You stepped inside and pressed one of two buttons. As the doors slid shut, the bookcase slid back into place.
The elevator trip was a long one. It had to be to get from your apartment all the way down to the hidden basement of this building. The money wasn’t yours. At least it hadn’t always been yours. The money, the company, the real estate. All of it had been your father’s, but after his untimely death everything he’d had landed into your lap.
Your father’s death had been the catalyst to your new life as a crimefighter. That was a day that you didn’t like to dwell on for too long. Besides today was supposed to be a good day and it very well couldn’t be if you were wishing you could change the past.
The doors of the elevator dinged as they opened up into your base. It wasn’t the most hightech place, especially when compared to a place like the Watchtower, but it did everything you needed it do. And you weren’t looking to upgrade it right now.
A large black box sat on the centre table. The sight of it made you smile. You had forgotten that was down here. Your new suit. You hadn’t had a chance to try it on before Luthor had injured you. Well what better time to debut it than now?
Your smile was big as you checked yourself out in the mirror. Your friend had done well. Very well. From the colours to the new kevlar weave, it was a hell of a lot better than your last one. And it should hold up nicely against bald rich men and their overly large mechs. Mechs that were definitely compensating for something.
Once you had gone through your gear, making sure you had everything you needed, you left your base and headed for the nearest zeta tube.
The Watchtower was quiet when you arrived. Which wasn’t a surprise, with how early it was. You imagined people had either already gone home, after working all night, or were slowly waking up. Being mindful of that, you kept your steps light and made you way toward the breakroom. As you entered the room you were greeted with the smell of freshly brewed coffee. Other than yourself the only other person in the breakroom was Black Canary.
In recent months you and her had become quite close. So close, in fact, that you knew each other’s secret identities. After all, you weren’t just coworkers or allies, you were friends. And it felt good to have friends that you could share the burdens of a superhero life with. As much as you trusted your friend that made your suits, at the same time you knew that there were lots of things that she couldn’t understand.
“Welcome back,” Dinah greeted you as you entered the room. “There’s coffee, if you want any.”
“Thanks, it feels good to be back,” you replied. You made your way over to the coffee machine and poured yourself a cup before joining her at the table.
The two of you spent the morning catching up with each other. It felt good to finally catch up with each other in person. It really wasn’t the same using text on a screen. As you chatted, the door to the breakroom opened and in walked Batman. You took a long drink from your cup, keeping your focus on what Dinah was saying, pretending that he wasn’t there. He didn’t stay in the breakroom for long. Grabbing himself some coffee before leaving again.
She looked between you and the closed door. You thought she was going to ask you what was going on there, you knew the question had to be everyone’s minds. The two of you go from being at each other’s throats to not speaking whatsoever? She didn’t though.
“Me, Ollie and Hal are going to a bar later tonight, if you want to come along as well?” she offered.
It sounded good; a night out with your friends. It had been awhile since you had last been out. Maybe that was what you needed. To go out, get drunk and maybe end up waking up next to a stranger. Something that might help in you in forgetting how it had felt to have sex with him.
You nodded. “Yeah, that sounds great. I would love to. You know, as long as no supervillain tries world domination again.”
Dinah chuckled at that.
The bar was far quieter than you had thought it was going to be. It didn’t look like you were going to be taking anyone back to your hotel room tonight. Which was fine. You were here to hang out with your friends after all. While Dinah, Oliver and Hal had ordered themselves some beers, you had opted for just a soda. The more you had thought about it, the more you hadn’t wanted to get drunk. You would rather to keep a clear and focused mind. Maybe next time.
Right now the four of you were laughing at Hal’s rather on point impression of Batman. You shook your head, smiling, and calming yourself down long enough to take a sip of your drink. After weeks of being cooped up, using the majority of your free time to focus on future equipment blueprints and potential future materiels to use, while your leg had healed, it felt good to be out with them.
Oliver raised his beer bottle to his lips, frowning when he found it empty. “I’m gonna go and get us another round,” he announced as he got up and turned to head toward the bar.
“I’ll help you,” Hal said very abruptly, going after him.
You frowned. That was… strange. What was going on with him? That was when you saw it, out of the corner of your eye, Dinah moving, leaning in close to you, so that no one would overhear. Now you understood.
“You and Batman. Spill.”
You looked at her like she had just grown horns. You scoffed. “What do you mean “spill”? You’ve seen the arguments. Everyone one has. What else is there to talk about?”
She raised an eyebrow at you. It was more than clear that she didn’t believe a word you were saying. “Right. That’s why you both disappeared for hours at a time afterward hmmm? Because there’s nothing else to talk about?”
Okay. It was clear to you that she definitely knew what happened between you and Batman, but how? Had she somehow overheard the two of you? Mentally, you shook your head. It didn’t matter how close you were with her, you would still rather forget what had happened between you and Batman and talking to her about it wouldn’t help. Before anything else could be said, Oliver and Hal returned to the table, drinks in hand.
“And what were you two talking about?” Oliver asked as he set down his and Dinah’s drinks, while Hal set down his and yours. You thanked him.
“Nothing, just some girl talk,” she replied. You nodded in agreement with her before taking a sip of your drink.
The rest of the night went by quickly. The situation between you and Batman wasn’t brought up again, but you didn’t believe that Oliver and Hal were oblivious to the situation. The timing of their leaving and Dinah’s questions were too much of a coincidence. It made you wonder how many more Leaguers were aware of it.
As the night came to a close, they walked you back to the zeta tube. Since you weren’t having a one night stand tonight, you figured you may as well just go back to your apartment.
You were curled up on your couch, underneath a fleece with a bowl of popcorn on your lap. You were watching a movie you had been meaning to watch for a while now, but had just never got around to it. Until now. It had felt good to go out with your friend, but it had completely drained your social battery. You needed to recharge, so to speak. And this was the perfect way to do so.
You were about halfway through the movie when the phone you had specifically for League only business, started to ring. It was for emergencies, in case that you weren’t on the Watchtower ro away from home. You paused the movie and picked up the phone, growing when you saw who was calling you. Batman? There were plenty of other Leaguers available tonight, so why you?
You pushed the thought away. It didn’t matter. He was a teammate and he needed help.
“Where are you?” you asked as soon as you had answered the phone. There wasn’t any time to waste if he was in trouble.
“There’s an old amusement park, just outside of Gotham.” He sounded winded. Something you were sure that you had only picked up on because of you… time together.
“I’m on my way.”
The sight of the amusement park had the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. It just seemed… wrong. A place that was supposed to be filled with people, lights and laughter was dark, devoid of life and decaying. It was unsettling. The fog drifting in certainly wasn’t helping with that.
You stayed down and kept your steps light as you stalked through the park, looking for Batman. You wouldn’t lie, it confused you a lot. Why he would call you, of all people, for help. Hell, the fact that he had called for help to begin with. You had heard the stories from the other Leaguers. How is stubbornness to handle things all by himself had nearly killed him more than once. Not to mention that he had made his feeling about you more than perfectly clear. So why had he asked you for help? Especially when there were other Leaguers that he not only liked more, but had more experience with this sort of thing than you did. There were plenty of them on standby. You knew because you had double checked, in case the two of you weren’t enough for whatever this threat was.
You thought about asking him why, once you found him, but you dismissed it almost as quickly as it had come to mind. He wouldn’t tell you even if you did. There was no point in wasting your breath.
The old rides groaned and creaked. Chains, whose purpose had been long forgotten rattled and banged against various makeshift poles and equally rusted poles. The cleaning noise echoing around you. The shadowy remains of the rollercoaster loomed high above you, like the unnatural skeleton of some giant creature. If you hadn’t been unsettled before, you certainly were now.
Voices ahead caught your attention. They were loud and distressed. Like they had been attacked. You had a good feeling you knew by who. Sticking to the shadows, you slowly began to creep toward them. Through the fog, two silhouettes started to take shape ahead of you, but before you could get closer, someone grabbed you. An arm wrapped around your waist white the other covered your mouth, pulling you to the side and keeping you secured against a muscular chest. Your instincts had kicked in and you attempted to fight against the person who had grabbed you, not stopping to think who it might actually be. You stopped when you heard his voice.
“It’s me.” His voice was deep and gravelly, sending goosebumps across your skin. You were thankful your suit didn’t show any skin.
Even as you stopped fighting, your body remained tense. You stayed still and silent. The two of you watched as the two figures, two henchmen dressed in black and red, rushed past. They were yelling at how Batman must have gone in the direction they were headed, completely unaware that in their hurry they had run past him and you. When they were gone, their footsteps fading, he released his grip on you. Now free, you spun around to face him.
You were so close together, lips centimetres apart. If either of you moved forward just a little bit they would meet…
You snapped out of it immediately and backed away from him, putting space between you both. What the hell where you thinking? This was not the time or place to be thinking with anything other than you brain. Especially with him, of all people.
“What’s going on?” you asked, making sure to keep your voice low.
He gestured with his head for you to follow him before he moved away from the wall, continuing down the makeshift alleyway.
“I’ve been investigating the recent super villain attacks,” he started to explain as he led you through the park. “So many happening so close together is too much for it to be a coincidence.”
You stuck to the shadows and kept low. The henchmen were on high alert, from their run in with Batman. You were sure that their trigger fingers were itching, ready to fire at anything that looked just a little bit like a bat.
“They’re connected?” While you had found the attacks a little strange, you hadn’t found it so strange to have thought that they might be connected.
He nodded and looked over his shoulder at you. “Tonight should prove that.” Then he turned back and continued leading you.
Batman didn’t elaborate further. Not that that wasn’t unexpected. He had a thing for being cryptic. That was something you had learned quickly after joining the League. The amusement park was crawling with henchmen as well. Too much talking and you could definitely end up drawing some very much unwanted attention. Being silent for the time being would be best.
Still, it was gnawing at you. Why had he asked for your help? There was a part of you that really wanted to know. You remembered the night in Star City vividly. The words said, how he had snapped at you. Showing his true colours. Similar fights had broken out on the Watchtower, more often than not involving him and Hal. As far as you knew he had never called him for assistance. Especially when there were other Leaguers he preferred working with. Then it hit you. Was this his way of attempting to start over with you?
The two of you soon came to a funhouse. Which, unlike the rest of the park, was seemingly devoid of life entirely. The quiet though. It didn’t feel natural.
Batman rose a hand as he stopped in his tracks, stopping you at the same time.
“Something’s wrong,” he stated, voice low.
“Definitely,” you agreed with him for once. “Could it be a trap?”
“Maybe. Stick close.”
You nodded and followed him into the funhouse.
Floorboards creaked beneath your feet. Some of them felt like they were about to break beneath your weight. So you kept your steps as light as possible, hoping to avoid that. You didn’t want to reinjure your leg. There was a strong stench of wood rot and mould, making you wrinkle your noise in disgust. The further into the funhouse that you got, the worse the smells started to get.
After walking through a couple of rooms that had clearly been gutted, you and Batman came to a hallway full of mirrors. The distorted mirrors coerced the walls and ceiling. They were either cracked or broken, glass littering the floor, cracking and crunching beneath your boots. He came to a stop before one of the broken mirrors, something catching his eye, and stepped through it. You followed after him, careful of the jagged pieces of glass that were still attached to the frame.
There was a short hallway behind the mirror, with a door at the end of it. Likely for employees back when this place was still operational. Batman had already dropped down onto one knee, lockpicking equipment in hand, working on the door’s lock. You kept watch, listening for anyone who might potentially be headed this way. A few minutes later, you heard the door creak open.
It hadn’t been open for even a few seconds before the smell hit you. It had you coughing hard and gagging, though nothing came up. You covered your nose with your arm, hoping to try and block out some of the smell. It felt like it was all over you, coating your hair, skin and the inside of your throat and nose. You had no idea if you were ever going to be able to get it off of you. It was a smell of rot, but not like what you had been breathing in throughout the funhouse so far. This was far, far worse. The only thing you could think was that this was what death must smell like. Which had your stomach churning.
Other than a few coughs when the door first opened, Batman didn’t seem to be overly effected by the smell. It made you wonder just how many times he had to have encountered the stench before for it to not effect him as much as it was effecting you. You were about to ask him to confirm that what you thought you were smelling was exactly that, when you were stopped by the sound of laughter.
“Are those—”
“Hyenas? Yes,” he cut you off. “Two of them, to be exact. Stay close.”
Hyenas? Who of Gotham’s criminals kept hyenas again? You racked your brain for the answer. It came to you as you followed him further in. Harley Quinn. She kept hyenas. You were only aware of that because everytime she did something it was big, televised and all over social media.
“Harley Quinn is here?”
“Most likely, but even if she’s not here currently she would have left something behind,” he replied. “Either way we should stay on high alert. She’s become even more dangerous since Joker’s death.”
“Didn’t she kill him?”
“Yes, in a slaughter house. There wasn’t much left of him.”
Though he didn’t go into detail, your mind unprovoked conjured up an image of what likely happened, making you cringe.
“You saw?”
He was silent for a moment before finally answering you. “Yes. I arrived too late to stop her.”
As you continued deeper into the funhouse, the smell of rot grew stronger, making you gag again. The hyenas’ laughter had stopped by now, which made you even more anxious. At least before, when they were making noise, you could have pinpointed where they were.
After walking down a maze fo corridors that all looked the same as each other, the two of you soon came to a room where the smell was it’s strongest. It wasn’t hard to see why. You didn’t know what this room would have been when the funhouse was being used, but now it had a large cage in the centre of it. There were two hyenas with spiked collars with in the cage, surrounded by bones and fighting over a piece of meat. It looked fresh, meaning they had been fed recently. Harley was probably close by then.
The bigger of the two won the fight and ran of with its prize. While the smaller one now had its attention fixed on you and Batman. Its ears came forward as it sniffed the air intensely. You were grateful for the bars the stood between you and the hyenas.
There was a couple of desks shoved into the corner of the the room, piled with various papers and files and there was a map of Gotham attached to a corkboard, sitting just above the desks. While you had been focused on Harley’s pets, Batman had already made his way over to the desk and was going through the papers.
“She stole them from the zoo an hour afterwards,” he answered your unasked question, like he could read your mind.
You nodded and moved away from the cage, deciding to help him go through the papers to help him. Only for him to bat your hands way and glaring at you for getting in his way.
“Only trying to help!” you snapped.
“Then keep watch,” he grumbled, looking way from you and continuing to focus on the task at hand.
Folding your arms across your chest, your turned away from the desk to survey the rest of the room. If Harley was still around, after feeding the hyenas, she wasn’t going to be getting the drop on the two of you. As you kept watch, you listened to the way he was sutling through the papers.
Wondering what was taking so long, you briefly looked over your shoulder, watching how he shuffled through the papers and kept looking up at the map. Trying to match the information with the scribbles perhaps? Before you could think to ask, his head snapped up and you found yourself being thrown across the room.
You hit the floor, hard. Pain radiated through your arm and ribs at how awkward your landing was. Your arm, thankfully, hadn’t been broken in the fall, but with the way your ribs hurt from just shallow breaths you figured a couple of them had to be broken. As you pushed yourself up from the ground, hissing as your arm protested, you looked back over to where you had just been standing.
Batman laid on the floor, completely still, whilst Harley Quinn stood over him, an almost comically large mallet in her hands. How the hell was she carrying that thing, let alone managing to swing it?
She looked away from his body and over to you.
“Who are you? Batsy’s newest sidekick or just the stand in until Catwoman comes back?” she taunted, a smile on her face.
You pushed down the anger you could feel rising in you at her comment. You couldn’t let her get a rise out of you. Doing so could, and most likely would, get both you and Batman killed. If that initial hit from the mallet hadn’t already killed him. You really hoped that it hadn’t. One of your hands came up to your utility belt and pressed the SOS button there. Though you were sure you could take Harley on, Batman was still in need of serious and immediate medical attention and you seriously doubted you would be able to haul him out of here by yourself.
“The silent type like him huh? Ugh, how boring!” She rolled her eyes.
She charged for you, her mallet at the ready. You waited until the last second to jump out of the way. The resulting swing made Harley stumble and almost fall over. While she had the strength to lift and swing the mallet, her control over it seemed to depend whether or not she hit someone with it. You could work with that.
You kept light on your feet, dodging each of her swing. The aim right now was to try to tire her out, before you got tired yourself. Which would hopefully give you an opening to take her out.
“Stop moving!” she yelled as you dodged again. The time, instead of hitting air, the mallet smashed into the door of the cage. The door squeaked as it swung open and banged against the bars of the cage. She laughed manically and pointed at you. “Babies! Get her!”
The hyenas whooped and giggled as they ran out of their cage, baring their teeth as the headed straight for you. You didn’t want to hurt them, at the same time you really didn’t fancy getting ripped apart by them. You narrowly avoided the bigger on as it lunged for you and kicked out at the other one, trying to force it back. You went to reach for your belt, but a gunshot rang out, making you jump.
“Uh uh uh! My babies can’t use flash grenades so neither can you! The next bullet goes into your leg if I see you reaching for that pesky belt again!” Harley was now sat on one of the desks. Her mallet was propped up next to it and a gun in her hand. Batman was still laying on the ground, unmoving. God, you wished he would just spring back up and surprise her. But he wasn’t going to. This was all up to you.
The hyenas were well coordinated, doing their best to get you to jump back into either one of their jaws. Which you really didn’t want. You could smell the rotten meat stuck deep within their sharp teeth. You were sure that a single bite from either of them would likely be singing your death certificate. The longer this went on for the more chance they had to do that. You were going to be bitten if you didn’t find a way to either render them unconscious or scare them.
As you did your best to avoid the hyenas, you were getting closer and closer to Harley. Who was getting more and more annoyed that her “babies” hadn’t ripped you apart yet. Taking both her and the hyenas by surprise, you darted forward and grabbed the mallet, doing your very best to swing it. It hit one of the hyenas, making it yelp as it slid across the floor. When it climbed back up onto its feet, it ran out of the room, the other one following close behind. You let go of the mallet and it hit the floor with a loud thump.
“How dare you!” she screamed, the gun she held was now pointed directly at you. Though you jumped out of the way as she pulled the trigger, pain flared through your side. Ignoring the pain in your side, you darted forward again. Disarming her with a kick and slamming her head down into the desk, successfully knocking her out cold.
Your hand went to your side and when you pulled it away again, it was covered in your blood.
“Fuck,” you muttered, pressing your hand back against your side. You really hoped that the bullet hadn’t hit anything vital.
After handcuffing her, you left Harley laying where she was and dropped down by Batman’s side. “You had better not be dead,” you told him. Using your non-bloodied hand, you slipped it beneath his cowl to get to his neck. You sighed in relief when you finally found his pulse. You removed your hand and slumped against the desk. Now all you had to do was wait for help to arrive and hope that her thugs or hyenas didn’t end up coming back beforehand.
So much for today being a good day.
*
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#bruce wayne x reader#batman x reader#bruce wayne x fem!reader#batman x fem!reader#batman imagine#bruce wayne imagine#under your skin verse#my writing
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My Hellaverse Religions and Marriages. Or how my Asperger made up some odd worldbuilding over the dumbest reason imaginable.
We all know this shot. We all hate this shot (well... I do)
And it's for one, big reason... what the hell are marriages in Hell? Well. I was wondering that too and honestly the answer is very simple... Who gives a shit? Viv wanted a contrived story with forced marriage where Moxxie looks like a total bitch so she did it as well as she could and since she could not do it well it came out how it did.
But it did made me think at least. What would marriages in Hell look like? And that lead me to a downward spiral of thinking up in a few hours how it works and why it works. And here is the result. Ladies and gentleman and all the inbetweens (I don't judge) I present my first rewrite post which I mostly do for myself as a note for future in case dementia catches me like it did with my grandparents. One is dead, the other is dying, but enough about my happy life. Let's get into autistic rambling.
So, before we get to the marriage system I have in mind, first let's delve into another thing. God. Or in this case. Deities. As in my version of HB/HH I write about in my AU there are several of them. All of which are different High authority figures of which the main ones are five and I will name all of them:
First one is Lucifer
Who in this version is... not as nice. In fact he is very, VERY cruel being. One that has little qualms about lives of anyone else. A being of Chaos from the times of the Rebellion in Heaven which he lead against God after he corrupted humanity to prove to The Almighty of his superiority, of that he is deserving of love much greater than mortals. Cast out from Heaven alongside all those that took side with him.
Now in Hell he embodies Pride that shaped the top layer of Hell. He is a Deity that preaches ultimate freedom. He preaches the idea of that you deserve all that you want. That every feeling, every desire you feel is correct and that you alone are deserving of those no matter what anyone says, no matter who it hurts. All that is important is you. That is the crux of those who follow him. Hedonists, narcissists, cruel, chaotic beings of pure selfishness who believe in righteousness of their desires and standing up against any authority that wants to keep them away from fulfilling their dreams and when all dreams become reality, there is no other outcome than Chaos which Lucifer adores.
They are called Light Takers. For Lucifer is one who brings light and those who follow him, take said light and all that they want.
That is Lucifer and now let's get to the Deity right under him that sides with him more so than the other one, another creature of Chaos (also be mindful that this is just short summary of those things, I can go more in depth about each one in other posts). Satan:
I don't have a better image as my idea of how he looks is pretty different. I imagine him as a centaur like being with a lower body similar to a bull, more human like torso, a head similar to one on this app with mighty wings and 4 arms. A brutal, relentless deity, one who's philosophy is to spread death and prepare for fight against the Heaven. To drown the world in the blood of his enemies and for the bodies and blood to rise so high so that he can approach the Heaven's gates.
His followers are mostly Imps. Many of them sharing to lesser or greater extent this philosophy of slaughter. It gives them meaning to kill and make their own trail of Blood as they follow in the hoove steps of the Lord of Slaughter. Followers of Blood they are called. A numerous force of berserkers devoted to mindless murder and Chaos.
With all this Chaos there has to be a balance point though right? You'd be correct. As on the opposite end of the Chaos spread by Lucifer and Satan is The Lord Governor:
Lucifuge Rofocale. He is in my version very similar to this depiction, although he very rarely smiles. He is known also as Bitter Governor for his rivalry with Lucifer in which he is mostly ignored by the latter as he tries to gain control over the Chaos of Hell.
He is the creature who values Order more so than anything. He is the Lawmaker. He is the lord of Laws that he writes into his Great Book, many laws there are, some of which contradict each other, some forgotten, other irrelevant. All his. He is the cruelty of order and subjugation incarnate. His name itself Lucifuge is one that was given to him after rebellion in which he took side of Lucifer in order to create a perfect society of his own. A society that was never to be. He who runs from Light for he was a Throne Angel of greater light than any other, a Light so strong he could never know even a smallest shadow. Light that he hated above all and could never fully rid himself off of it's taint.
When he came to Hell his Pride alongside Lucifer's shaped the Entire Ring. Lucifer controls the Central parts where Pentagram City is located and Lucifuge controls outer rings of Pride where his 5 towers on borders of Pride spreading to the blood sky surround the Chaos of Lucifer. His desire of control made manifest. A control he spreads with his Emissaries. Those who follow him and his laws faithfully and spread them with unmatched zeal. And his most faithful and powerful servant is the 4th of the Main Deities. The Silent King of all Ars Goetia.
King Baal. His version in my AU is based on this picture. A creature with lower body of a Spider and torso of a man with head of a King with long hair at the top. Which ever direction he looks, his face changes shape, if to his right it takes form of a cat and left is the frog. Among the deities he alongside Satan were born in Hell and were since time of their Hell's manifestation bitter rivals and his beloved is Queen of Gluttony Beelzebub which is often a target of mockery. A spider who beds a bug instead of eating it, but no care to those words are given, no words... Only silence. Pride was originally meant to be his as it would embody his silence, but it was not to be as the Fall happened and Pride was born from the quiet grounds.
He was named an Ars Goetia by Lucifuge to whom he pledged allegiance to in Silent Promise and ever since his invisible web spread across skies of Pride, woven from threads attached to every life among Ars Goetia and to cut it is to be a Heretic condemned to suffering at the hand of Silent King. Baal's Faithful who are his followers are mostly Ars Goetia. All believing in Hell's security to be utmost priority. To make it safe at any means necessary. To make sure that Hell will be eternal and all who fall into it's flames will never escape it's torment. He is the one who keeps the Ars Goetia in check to follow the laws Lord Lucifuge laid out. For maybe side of Chaos has numbers and ferocity, but Order has power and stability.
A balance that is most crucial to never ending conflict festered by the most enigmatic and possibly most terrible of the Five. Mephistopheles.
Who's looks are as everchanging as interpretations of how he looks. A Demon who fooled the world into believing he was, but a made up Demon in a story about Faust. Always cloaked in shadows creature, that despite looking a lot of times like the most basic denizen of Hell, is anything, but. As his nature is a mystery to all who inhabit it. A creature of Darkness that remembers the time of the first words that is alien to both Heaven and Hell. One that gave Hell it's currency made of Souls it caught with contracts they make on earth. A Creature that always maintains the balance of both sides. Making sure there is never a conclusion to this bitter conflict and flames of Discord never fade. Something that is cherished by his Brethren in Dark.
To be Mephisto's Brethren in Dark is to commune and listen to Mephisto's words. You are what you are. There is no change to that. So live your life as you see fit. Make of your life anything you want. Be it for order or chaos. Be it for your desire or duty. What is important is to know who you are and to believe in his words. It is to be on the side of yours and his and all that you must have will come to you, but the price will have to be paid, but it does not have to come from you now has it? No... You use others as much as you are used. You know that very well. You always will. For you are rotten, but so is everything else. So is that so bad?
There are many other deities. Such as King Paimon, by many considered as one of the if not the mightiest among Kings. A being who's promise of seeing his Labyrinth makes many shudder at the mere thought. Or the Sins who's patronage seek those who live on their rings. But the choice is up to the Hellborn... aside from mostly Hellhounds, who mostly only reside and do labor for the Beelzebub. A Cerberus insect of endless hunger.
But there is one more path. On the side of neutrality is also another side. Hell. To listen to the will of Hell.
Listeners of Hell are those who feel the very wind among the bloody streets. To know intimately the desires of the ground you walk on. To serve Hell as it's listener and to reinforce it's will. This is path for those who seek a different path from all other deities. But to do so is to give all that you are to the home you have. Not to protect, but understand it. Breathe with it and to be a true part of it. Closer than many others.
These are all the paths Hellborn can... or rather have to choose. Because atheism is not possible in this realm. Hellborn have to believe in something otherwise it means they are a traitor to the Hell itself. Whatever one believes in it is up to the Hellborn in question. But the choice it is one Hellborn MUST make.
Now... after this little mythology lesson where does this lead in terms of marriages? Well. The marriage in itself is also a deal between deities. Each side has their own contract that has to be signed by the priest of their respective deity. And each priest is of different kind. Emissary is a political for the most part. Mephisto's Brethren could be of any kind. A soldier of Baal. Hedonistic royal of Lucifer. Berserker of Satan. If both sides worship same deity it means less issues, but both contracts are still required.
Both sides need to sign their respective contract and then place their cut hands on those contracts as they are connected by their blank sides. Letting their blood seep into them as both of them touch them. Letting their blood, believes and word to connect them forevermore, for them both to be servants together. That is unless one has a change of faith which may require redoing of the process at the chance of being shunned by everyone around. For it is a shame to be someone to turns away from their God.
So yeah... This is how I would personally write certain part of Mythology of Hell. I know I did not elaborate on certain other things like Paimon or Sins, but I think this is a good enough of a starting point to the mythology I want to make with 3 sides here. Chaos, Order and Neutrality. All with their own strengths and weaknesses. All with their own stories and people who worship them. All with their own traditions, beliefs and personalities... All of it... because I was iffy by the fucking Exs and Ohs priest. I need serious mental help. This is just sad to look at. Then again if you read this far, I guess we all lost here. Or maybe you liked it. If so then please leave a comment or something. I cherish those. And maybe think of who you would choose to follow.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel rewrite#hazbin hotel redesign#helluva boss rewrite#helluva boss redesign#helluva boss critical#helluva boss criticism#helluva boss critique#helluva boss#vivziepop criticism#vivziepop critical#vivziepop
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