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neverchecking · 8 months

Note

NSFW alphabet for Legend, Hyrule, & Four? If you’re too busy, you don’t have to do them, I’ve just been 🤤since the Twilight alphabet.

Nonny, you did nothing wrong, but next time just check on my request status. I try to keep my requests at a set number so I can get through them in an orderly fashion.

Also you lucky ducks get 2 tonight after getting nothing from me for like a month nogng

Legend's -> Here!

Four's -> Here!

Anyway. MDNI! 18+

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He's a KING at aftercare. He's so soft and caring, and his touches are absolutely featherlight. Because he just wants to praise and thank you for allowing him the opportunity of a lifetime. It's so precious to him and he wants to make sure you know it to.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On his partner? Their hands. He loves kissing your palms and your fingers, and feeling them brush against his cheeks as you tell him all about how good he feels. Even just holding your hand in his as you clench around him crying out his name makes every part of him buzz.

On himself? It's hard to say because it's proven that he doesn't have a lot of self confidence, but probably his mouth. Which sounds weird, but talking has saved his life, smiling has gotten him out of sticky situations, and he knows you love the absolute completion he can bring you to with it. He loves that you can use that part of him so freely without it failing you because he will put his mouth to work. Trust me.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Maybe its the fae in him but he LOVES cumming all over you. He love, love, loves painting your skin a pretty white and streaking it in a reminder that your his. Loves dragging his fingers through it just to smear it all over your belly, to really sell the point you know?

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He loves seeing you in jewelry. Any jewelry, but especially long necklaces. just watching them bounce and curl with every thrust has his eyes widening as he watches every chain link shift. Especially if there's a heavy jewel front and center. Just seeing you decked in rings, bracelets, necklaces and crowns? Oh, he loves it.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

No one wants to hear it, but I believe Hyrule fuckkked. Like in his world, money is scarce, so thanks had to have been given another way. Sex was probably one of those ways. It was on the downlow and no one ever talked about it, but he probably fucked. That being said, when it comes to you, where it comes with feelings, you would think he's a virgin. It takes some time for him to really settle and put his experience to good use.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Sixty-nine. He loves showing you his absolute devotion to your entire being while letting you do whatever you wish to him. He knows you like to return the favor even if he personally thinks thats silly. This lets him try to distract you enough while also letting you tire yourself out enough he can do whatever he wishes with you <3

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He can do few good laughs. Like Four, if it helps loosen you up he's all for it. Probably even instigates a few jokes because he loves hearing you laugh. Soft sex with Hyrule is probably full of giggles because he just loves you so much.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Not. Groomed. At ALL. It's bushy and it's messy but its so him you can't even be mad because look at that face and tell me you can be mad at him. I certainly can't. It's the same brown as the hair on is head and just as curly, so...good luck with that.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Oh he's so romantic, because he's SO used to those quick pump and dumbs, he loves showing and proving that you aren't like everyone else. You are someone he so inherently wants to spend the rest of his life with and he never wants you to doubt that for a second. And Hyrule, lemme tell you bc he told me personally, can WAX POETRY like you wouldn't believe.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He was told its a sin so never actually did it until he lost his faith in Hylia. Then he touched himself, cried, then finished the job. And from then on it was pretty rare because, like I said, sex wasn't rare to him. Of course, after meeting you that doesn't change. But instead of it being a question of what's the point it turns into why waste it? Why waste it on his hand when he can use it to paint your ass a perfect shade of creamy white.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Probably has a bit of a food kink, honestly. Like, fruits and syrups dripping all over your body for him to lick off appeases the fairy side and gives him the sugar for energy. Win-win for him.

Also probably loves having his hair pulled. I don't know if that's a kink, but its something I felt compelled to share.

Had to come back to add this, but Free use. Absolutely loves when you just pin him down and ride him like he's little more than a toy for you to use.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere. He is down for anywhere at anytime. He's is nothing more than a lowly peasant for you to use. He is there to sing your gospel and preach your prayers. If you want him to eat you out in the middle of the street with people watching, he's already on his fucking knees.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Anything. Like I said. Anything just to show you how much he fucking loves you okay? He can't have you thinking he's gonna run off because losing you would absolutely destroy him. And he just cannot risk it. Like after a fight? That probably gets him going the most because he thinks he's fighting some invisible chain thats breaking and going to pull you away from him.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He would never dream of calling you names. You are his divinity and he is going to fucking adore you and make sure you know it. The thought of ever demeaning you does something to him that makes him all pouty and upset because why would you ever want to think about yourself like that? He loves you so much and he wants you to love yourself just as much.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Giving. you had to know this was coming (heh, cumming). Because as I've shown, hyrule is a worshipper. And he would love to fucking worship you every chance he gets. Fuck he would spend hours giving your oral because it's just so nice for him.

A oneshot idea I've been throwing around is Reader being a Mafia! boss and sitting there, Hyrule on a leash and just having at 'er because he believes it's his life purpose to be their sex toy while their doing business. Just thought yall should know.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Anyway you want it, but he gets so sex drunk it only lasts so long before falling to his default fast and rough because he just can't get enough.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

not his favorite, but he'll do it. Again, he just wants to please you. So if you want a quick romp in the closet, his belt is already off. Of course, he'll use later to take his time ensuring that you know quick isn't his go to, not anymore, and defiantly not with you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He's down. It brings excitement and he does like that little rush adrenaline. Plus it keeps you interested which is a bonus. It makes you happy and that's all he needs.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

So much Stamina. He is so used to going, going and going, so he has the energy for DAYS. He is so ready and willing, whatever you want he's giving. If you're not done, neither is he. Round after round, he is still hard ready to go.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Yes and no? So, Hyrule is half fairy which means he has some magical properties about him. I imagine his cum probably has a bit of an aphrodisiac quality to it. So that's his own little toy. other than that, I could see him liking beads and just pulling them out. One by one.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Doesn't. Like I've said, he loves devoting himself to you. Teasing just takes away from that. And he can't have that! He needs to prove that you made the right choice fucking him because there are better options (In his opinion-- which is wrong). He doesn't want to lose you because of teasing when he could've spent that time making you see stars.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He's suck a pretty moaner. He has a perfect tone and pitch and it's just such a delight to hear. He tries to bite his lip because he'd much rather hear you, but he can't help but whine and whimper just because it all feels so so so good.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

His cum? Probably tastes sweet. Because he's half-fairy, he needs a lot of things like sugar water, fruit, candys, sweets, which you would think would make it taste bad right? Nope. It actually tastes sweet. Like it's palatable. Which is why we all wanna suck his dick so badly. Which is WHY 69 is such a good position for him.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Hyrule has a pretty dick and I will go down with this. Like it's no bitchbreaker, but you just wanna suck it because of how pretty it is. Like a gorgeous red at the tip with soft skin and perfect balls just waiting to be fondled. He's packing pretty average, 5 or so inches, but that doesn't even matter because his dick is just so pretty.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Above average I'd say. It's not so much about the sex for him though, it's about the intimacy and proving his devotion to you. And he loves doing it. Loves reminding you just how much he loves you and wants to spend the rest of his life with you <3

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Knocked tf out. After aftercare is complete and he knows you're okay for the night, he gone. Sorry babes, fairy needs time to recharge and replenish his battery so he can devote his entire being to you all over again tomorrow <3

#yandere linked universe #yandere linked universe x reader #linked universe x reader #linked universe #yandere legend of zelda #linkeduniverse #legend of zelda #link x reader #loz #yandere lu hyrule x reader #lu hyrule #yandere lu hyrule #lu hyrule x reader

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achillieus · 3 years

Text

let you down. (sebastian stan x reader)

summary: it's a universal truth but it's worth repeating; feelings eat us raw. or just an actor and a girl falling in and out of love over the course of three months.

(this was inspired by sebastian's visit to greece for his movie, monday, and is based on that, so that means in the story we’re in 2018. also i have this posted on ao3 too but while i’m writing the last parts i thought of posting it here too)

pairing: sebastian stan x reader

warnings: alcohol, sexual references, implied depression, sebastian desperately needs to hug the reader, infidelity, it's kinda slowburn because i love the yearning, this part is full of angst and built up tension,

part: 3/6

(other parts) (masterlist)

Being Sebastian Stan is not a simple thing. Some days it makes him feel like he is only a porcelain face on screen. Nothing more than photographs and rumors. He had once told an interviewer he was scared people would never know the real Sebastian. What he meant was that he was worried he’d wake up one day and the real him would be vanished.

The world would have eaten him alive.

Walking you home, in empty streets in a small country makes it all easier. His mind is clear of dazzling thoughts and his heart is not racing up. He can smile and no one will be there to take a picture of him.

Somehow that makes him smile more.

And when he does, it feels like Christmas. And you are certain there will come a day where you’ll be so close to oblivion and unable to remember what mint tastes like or what your favorite color is, but you’ll still have the turned up corners of his mouth painted in your head.

He stops walking. You look at him confused. He’s fidgeting with his fingers.

“Back at the party,” he takes a long breath as if trying to slow down his heartbeat, “You were talking with that tall guy.”

He sounds terrified. You don’t understand why. He thinks it’s better that way.

“Yeah I was.” There’s a flicker of surprise in your voice.

“Do you know him well?” You realize you have stopped in front of a pharmacy, the halogen light above you, turning your skin a sick green color.

“I know he’s an actor.” You take a step, finding the courage to walk away from him. “He’s kinda famous here.”

You can hear him move close behind you.

“Do you want me to ask Argyris if he’s single?”

There’s mockery in his voice. It makes you feel intoxicated. It’s your turn to stop walking. Your gaze falls on his face and Sebastian can feel his eyes sting but he keeps them open; wide and pale blue.

Almost green, under this light.

“No.”

“Oh don’t be sh-“

“No, I mean it. I would never date a famous guy.”

“Why?” A hasted breath escapes his trembling lips. And for a moment you think of kissing him right there; in the middle of the street, but you never do.

His world moves too fast for people like us.

That’s what you want to yell back at him, but then you remember;

The evening Sebastian fell asleep in your couch, he was more than a famous guy. He was clutching on your pillow like a kid and he was humming to himself like your father used to.

And he smiled as he fell asleep.

There is no argument left in you. He’s just a boy.

“I’m scared.” Your words slowly suffocate him. He feels the weight of your heart pulling him down.

He nods.

The next two days pass in a blur. You can hear him laugh with people as they walk up the stairs to Argyris’ flat. You’re not used to him not stopping at your door. It makes your cheeks red and your eyes filled with salty tears.

You haven’t realized until now, but you’ve become dependent on his presence.

So when you open your eyes at 4am with your phone buzzing with an Instagram message, you bite your cheeks.

Are you awake?

You stare at the screen to make sure you read it all correct, until it turns black and then lights up once again.

Why are you scared?

You don’t have to be scared with me.

I’m trying. You want to answer. Help me. You want to answer. Please.

You put your phone away until the words turn blurry.

He’s back at your door the following night. He’s wearing a white tank top and his rings. He must have just finished shooting.

You keep staring at each other, both tongue-tied with the words you’ll never say. He looks worried and desperate. You look tired and desperate. Taylor Swift is playing in the background.

“No more AC/DC?” He laughs and your eyes smile.

“Do you want to talk?” He asks.

You shake your head like you’re at war with yourself.

“Do you want to just stay here?” Your voice is too silent but it’s almost deafening him.

Sebastian thinks that he wants tons of things. He wants to hold you. And he wants to touch you. Everywhere. And he wants to know why there’s sorrow surrounding you. And he wants to take it all away.

And he wants you.

But he knows that he can’t tell you that. These words are too heavy for you to carry on your shoulders. At least for now.

“I’ll stay.” He says with a breath.

You give him an almost smile and all you can feel is gratitude.

You lay in your bed together. You’ve slept with other guys in that bed before. And it’s been nude and sloppy and brutal. But this is different. This is intimacy in its purest form. You’re both fully clothed but you both feel naked. And so close. So close.

All Sebastian can hear is the sound of your breathing and every bone inside him is breaking. He is afraid he’s turning paralyzed.

And then you move your body and bring your forehead next to his. Sebastian inhales deeply. You smell of faded vanilla body cream.

You look at him and you know then you can get used to that. You bury your fingers in the hem of his shirt. You want him to come closer. He knows.

“I’ll stay love,” his voice is steady and sincere “Anytime.”

He calls you love because there’s nothing else to call you. He calls you love because you both need him too.

“I don’t think that’s possible.” Sebastian thinks you’re always too sensible. It’s something you keep between the hollows of your body. “But it’s okay.”

His hand is in your hair. It soothes you.

“What happened? What broke you?” he whispers.

You don’t know what to say. You don’t know how everything started. It's hard to remember but there is one image in the back of your eyes that crawls through your skin and makes you shiver. You try to ignore it.

“I don’t know.” He turns his gaze at you but you look at the cold ceiling. It’s so much easier this way.

He doesn’t answer. He just draws circles in the back of your palm and places his lips against the scalp of your head. And while you’ve never been much of a science person, you’re certain this is how a nuclear attack emerges.

When the sun rises and you wake up, he’s not there. Earth moves slowly as the cold sheets press against your skin.

It’s early, there is a soft breeze coming in from your open window. A man is bickering with this wife across the street.

You can hear her call him a liar.

I’ll stay love.

You can hear him yell his apologies.

Anytime.

Why do people lie? Why do we lie?

You don’t try to search for him. You take a shower and drink some chocolate milk. You pay attention to the silence in the room. You almost forget your heart is still beating.

You bump into Argyris’ girlfriend while taking out the garbage. You like her a lot. She’s strong and pretty and smart. You wonder sometimes, how exactly that feels.

You pray she doesn’t mention him. It doesn’t work.

“He must be flying right now.” Suddenly you feel as if there is something rotten inside your chest. It makes you want to graze your skin and throw away everything that's inside.

You look at her slightly confused.

“He’s flying to Toronto; he has to attend a festival there.” She smiles. You’ve noticed she always smiles.

You just nod and step out of the building. Her voice stops you.

“He’s coming back in some days.”

“I don’t care.” Now she laughs.

“There’s no need to lie.” You take a sharp breath. “He cares too.”

You want to believe her words but they seem like choke chains.

You throw your garbage away.

You keep your rotten chest.

Sebastian sits back at his seat and orders a hundred and one drinks. The airplane is chasing the sun. He’s chasing his thoughts. Neither will ever catch up.

He used to like travelling. Airports, suitcases and foreign hotel rooms made him feel free. Now they make him feel the opposite.

The material on his seat is rugged. He wants to go back to your soft sheets. He can’t.

And then he imagines a place and a time where he could just kiss you without any possible consequences. He imagines a place where you could rest your bodies together for a long time without worries weighing you down. He imagines a place where he gets what he wants. A place where that thing between you two is more than enough.

The sun blinds him. He closes the small window and then his eyes.

Being Sebastian Stan is not a simple thing.

Some days he can’t take it.

You’re sitting on the floor and it’s almost 9 in the morning. You’ve calculated the time difference and it’s 2 in the morning where he is. That sounds wrong. Almost scary.

He left three days ago but he’s everywhere. There are photos of him wearing stupid floral shirts and posing in a sophisticated way. And there’s Nicole Kidman next to him.

God. I’ve become infatuated with a man who plays in movies with Nicole Kidman and Robert Downey Jr.

That’s what you think and you know you’re doomed.

You expect him to send you a message or a picture at first, but he doesn’t. You wonder if your time together was only a blurry puzzle of disconnected memories that somehow fits in his past.

He’ll simply forget all of it.

You try not to think about him but then you meet Argyris in the lobby and you have to bite the inside of your mouth so his name doesn’t jump out from your lips.

You go to bed early that day. You hold onto your pillow and you count the hours that separate you.

(13 hours with a plane)

(25 days with a boat)

You count and you fall asleep.

And you fall in love.

It’s not uncommon to rain in Toronto. But today rain feels heavier on Sebastian’s skin. He remembers the day he met you; it was hot and the sun made the window glass look like it was about to melt. That memory is the cause of his shivering.

Once upon a time he was in love. He was in love with a girl who had ethereal written all over her body. He was in love with a girl who was destined for divinity.

But those were the old days; they are dead and gone now. Your skin glistening under the Athenian sun changed it all.

It’s not easy to feel this way. The sky understands so it opens up and pours down on his dark hair. He presses his eyes closed with his fingers. And he tries to imagine a version of himself that doesn’t think about you that often.

He can’t.

Not even when he has a deity as his girlfriend.

The next time you see him, his hair is a little longer and much messier than you remember. And you have to devour all the sense that’s left inside you as not to touch it with your bare hand.

He has a cigarette in his fingers and a dark jacket thrown around his shoulders and everyone’s asking him about the festival. You just sit on the corner of your neighbor’s flat and listen to laughter and glasses clicking against each other. And you smile.

Smile; because he’s here.

And then he notices you and you’re pretty sure his eyes linger on your face a little longer than it's normal for humans. And his gaze is so brilliantly blank and loony that you don’t know how to respond. And then he starts to cough. And he never looks at you for the rest of the night.

You want to believe it’s better this way.

But it makes you so angry; you want to clench your teeth hard.

It goes like this; you don’t exchange any words for the next two days and it feels like your lips will start to bleed.

And you don’t know but his head feels like battlefield.

“When do you know you can’t stop it?” He asks Argyris. He feels ashamed.

“When you don’t want to stop it.”

He grabs the beer can and drinks his confusion away. He hopes alcohol will send his thoughts to sleep but instead it sends him to your door.

He rests his head against the wooden material. He can hear water running down and he can hear you humming a song.

And the foreign words make no sense to him but somehow they sound like lyrical poetry.

He waits for the water to stop and then he knocks.

Your hair is wet and sticks to your blue shirt. Your eyes grow wide when you see him standing there.

“I thought you’d never come at my door again.”

He looks at the floor.

“I shouldn’t.”

He sounds defeated; defeated by his own self. And you can smell the flammable liquid on his breath. And you can see that he has his nails pressed against his palm. You take his hand in yours and he closes his eyes. You caress the little cuts with your fingers. There are no scars but the skin is still red and painted with fear. You understand and it makes you feel dirty and obscene.

You look thoughtful for a moment and then you decide you can’t go on like this. It will split your souls.

“How’s Canada?” His eyes fill with surprise and he laughs. It gives you pride.

“Never been?”

He takes a step inside your place and his eyes fall on the empty bottle of pills at the kitchen table.

He doesn’t say a word about it.

You love him for that.

“I’ve never been anywhere.” Your cheeks are flushed with a soft raspberry color.

Sebastian realizes then that he wants to show you the entire world. Every corner of it. He wants to hold your hand as you walk beneath the Corsican stars. And he wants to memorize the Northern lights with you by his side. And he wants to see you laugh as he falls off his surf board in New Zealand. And he wants every cliché thing there is to do.

His heart stretches at the thought of it.

“Canada is beautiful in its own way.” He looks out of your window.

You wonder if he’s trying to find some more constellations in the sky, but then he turns around and walks towards you.

“I’ve been there a lot of times.”

Of course you have, you think.

He brushes a strand of hair behind your ears. It’s still damp and cold.

“Have you been to a lot of places?” He smiles and nods.

And then you can sense it; the sharp feeling of heartbreak crawling under your skin. You try to ignore it.

“I used to be grateful I travel all the time.”

You place your hand on his chest. The beating makes you calm.

“You’re not grateful anymore?”

He rubs his palm over his face.

“I am,” he inhales “But sometimes I just want to stay where I am.”

Yeah, I know.

He leaves an hour later, still drunk.

Still in love.

On Sunday, he takes you out for dinner. You tell him you don’t like dates. He promises it’s not a date.

You know you’re both lying.

He orders some red wine and he drinks as he watches you eat. It all feels natural to him. Somewhere at the back of his head though, there’s still some rationality left, that makes him think, this can’t be wrong, when it feels so natural.

He doesn’t drink any more.

You’re playing with the maraschino cherry on your dessert when his phone rings and your world comes crashing down.

You don’t intend to but you see the caller ID.

Love.

He had called you love one night.

He feels too guilty to look at you so he grabs the device and gets out of the place.

You want to throw the ice cream on the floor.

And then you want to hit the wall; with your head. But you can’t. So you just bite down at the cherry and wait for him to come back.

And when he does, things are different.

He doesn’t to try to make jokes and you don’t laugh. His eyes are everywhere but on you and your hand stays away from his.

You tell him you’re done with dessert so you can leave.

He has never felt more relieved.

Your pace is fast, but he catches up. You can’t outrun him.

His breath quickens as he comes closer. It’s almost innocent and childlike, the look he gives you.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers and it makes you laugh. You laugh and you shake your head and it’s not enough.

“Why?” He can taste the bitterness all over you. “This wasn’t date. So why are you sorry?”

You keep walking and his breath keeps echoing in your ears. You find the entrance of your building.

You’ve seen the place a hundred times but only now you notice how old it looks. It makes you disgusted. It makes you want to vomit.

It starts with him saying he doesn’t want to hurt anyone.

And then you rest your body at the soiled wall, trying to remind yourself you’ve had your heart broken before. And your eyes are not dry anymore. And you can taste salt in your lips. And he comes closer and he holds you.

You swear you see tears in his cheeks too, but he’s too fast to wipe them away.

“Have you ever done anything only to regret it a second later?”

You’re not certain which one of you asks but you can hear your bones breaking as you throw your head around and he arches his back.

His hands touch the dried tears on your face and it stings like sewing needles. And his lips touch yours. And for a brief moment you feel like you’re stealing from life.

And he can taste all of you; raw.

And it feels like fists that punch him.

And when you pull away you both have already regretted everything.

“Now you have something to be sorry for.”

You wonder if perhaps a broken dignity is better than a broken heart.

i really appreciate feedback, it motivates me tons and also tell me if you’d like to be tagged :)

tagging: @lharrietg @awkward117 @dannaloureen @broccoligf @cutestfangirlvevo @caitdaniels @arymb @buckybarnesishot310 @roguesthetic @itsaliceheree @sara-1705 @dorothea-hwldr @freshfreakoaftrash @drinkfantasy

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan imagine #bucky barnes #monday the movie #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #letyoudown

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2jaeh · 3 years

Text

Bibliophile | Xiaojun x Reader

Genre: fluff, smut

Word count: 2,3k

Warnings: mature themes

Author: SIN

Two literature master students decide to make their steamy romance troupe debates a reality.

——————————————————————————

Your heels clicked against the marble floors as you ran over to the university library, hoping the evening rain wouldn’t worsen when you crossed the open courtyard.

Most of the students were either heading back to their dorm rooms or messing around in the common areas, while the only thing that rang in your head was to not be late for your part-time job at the restricted section of the library.

At first you had no damn clue why they needed someone to work there, especially since some of the books were even restricted to lecturers. But thanks to your century old university and their obsession with keeping their sacred books in pristine condition, all they needed was a literature masters student to help out from time to time.

You entered the library and greeted the woman at the front desk before she buzzed you in through to the door that led upstairs to the restricted area.

You quickly jogged up the stares and swung open the door only to be greeted by the only other person working around here, Xiao Dejun.

“You’re late again” his lips curled into a smile as he pushed up his gold framed glasses and inspected a dust covered book.

“Yeah the rain was just-“

“Crazy ?” Dejun peered up and pursed his lips, knowing that every excuse you had always ended in the same word.

“Yeah crazy” you half chuckled and removed your burgundy coat, making your way over to sign in the shift card.

All you knew about Dejun was that he finished his masters and was offered a lecture position at the university but decided to take up this job instead. He was very reserved and once told you that he craved the utter peacefulness of the restricted area, where he was usually either on his own or with you.

“I’m halfway on my thesis now” you said casually as you started fixing the binding of a physics book from the 70s.

“Oh?” Dejun raised his eyebrow and pulled out a chair next to you to tend to his own book repair, “I’m sure you’re glad it’s almost over right?”

You squinted your eyes and sighed, burying your head in your hands as that familiar migraine began to set in. “I’m....stuck” you groaned and peered up at Dejun, “I decided to dissect the romance genre of literature and honestly most of it is hot garbage.”

Dejun let out a laugh and you admired how his dark eyebrows knitted together, making his face look quite animated.

“What books have you studied if you don’t mind me asking ?” Dejun asked, his curious eyes met with yours as he shifted closer in his chair.

“Everything from Shakespeare to Nicolas Sparks, I just hate them all” you pouted and slumped back in your chair, moving the half bound book aside,

“Don’t get me wrong, I chose romance because I love it you know ? I just don’t think that those ‘classics’ do it any justice.”

Dejun nodded at your words and shrugged, “I agree with you, not a fan of that forbidden romance and rich girl poor man stuff either.”

“Right ?” Your eyes lit up and Dejun grinned at your passionate attitude. He’d always found you cute. Every so often he had the chance to work with you on a shift we’re always his best days. He’d listen to you rant about your professors, the music you hated on the radio, or the fact that someone stole your favourite parking spot.

“So....” Dejun folded his arms, “how would you change it ?”

“Change it?” You quirked a brow.

“What’s your perfect romance troupe ?” Dejun smiled softly and his soft brown eyes drew you in and made you feel warm, safe.

“Well for starters I think intimacy should come first and then the characters learn how to love each other as they develop their relationship” you explained, getting up from your chair and began pacing the small room,

“I don’t mind the cliche of they grab the same book or vinyl, I just prefer that instead of 7 chapters of them thinking about that moment they just take the leap right there.”

Dejun pondered on your words for a bit and also got to his feet, leaning against the table as he watched you pace back and forth.

“Would it work for people who somewhat knew each other before hand though ? A friend ? A colleague ?” Dejun quizzed and you nodded quickly,

“Yeah if there’s no prior feelings or hookups then why not ?”

“I guess we can’t test it then since we like each other huh ?” Dejun smirked returning to his seat innocently as you stopped abruptly and quickly tried to process what he had just said.

“I....we...don’t like each other ?” You stammered while ignoring the fact that your heart was racing against your chest.

Dejun chuckled as he carefully inspected one of the pages of his book, “the funny part is that you’re practically experiencing your ideal romance troupe and contradicting yourself by not owning up to the fact that we do in fact...like each other.”

Your mind was racing on every evening that you’ve spent with Dejun up until today. First day it’s true you both did a double take on each other and you found him extremely attractive. Day seven the two of you reached for the only hard cover copy left of Pride and Prejudice and spent the whole night critiquing the book until you lost track of time. Day seventeen you were packing books on the top shelf and as you descended down the steel steps you lost your balance and fell right into his arms.

You were literally living a goddamn romance troupe without even knowing it.

“By your words y/n, we need to skip a few steps now shouldn’t we ?” Dejuns eyes were still on his book, but he knew damn well that your eyes were on him.

“You’re right Dejun” you finally said and folded your arms across your chest.

Dejun turned his head to face you and narrowed his eyes, “I’m supposed to be the one making the move ? What happened to a change of scenery ? Uh women empowerment?”

You grabbed his hand and headed to the back of the room where the roof slightly slanted and the window panels were covered with water droplets as the night sky drew in. You neatened your blue plaid skirt and leaned against the old wood of a work station desk. Dejun cocked his head as you bit down on your lip, not knowing how to proceed to the next step.

“Why here ?” Dejun raised an eyebrow, removing his glasses and tucked them in the top pocket of his white buttoned down.

“I don’t know the setting is....pretty, also when we first met you were sitting at this desk reading the last book a literature master student would be reading” you stifled a laughter.

“Hey Harry Potter is my childhood” Dejun groaned, cutely rolling his eyes, something he did quite often and you would pester him to the point of seeing that reaction.

“Dejun,” you placed your hand on his cheek and his attention was focused on you, those soft brown eyes bore into yours as he took a step closer.

You felt the butterflies in your stomach as he softly wrapped his hand around the small of your back and placed the other on the back of your head. You finally leaned in and he did the same meeting your lips, for the first time and sighed. The kiss was soft, the two you just melted in the instant connection, basking in the feeling before continuing to deepen the kiss.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer until your bodies were pressed against each other, fitting each other’s silhouettes perfectly. Dejun slipped his hands down to your thighs and picked you up and placed you on the desk, not breaking the kiss as he slipped in between your legs.

“I’m afraid I’m going to want more than this” you sighed into the kiss, unable to remove your hands from his toned body as you felt the closeness of him between your legs making you feel aroused.

“Come back to my place” Dejun whispered as he began attacking your neck with kisses and played with the hem of your skirt.

You can’t remember if you said yes or just nodded but you were now in Dejuns car on his way to his place. You enjoyed the passionate kiss he shared with you at the stop street and the occasional squeeze of your thigh when he would make turn into a new road.

The rain had begun pelting down and thankfully you were already pulling into his apartment lot before it became really hazy. Dejun turned to his backseat and realized he had left his umbrella back at the library and sighed,

“Running hand in hand in the pouring rain troupe ?” He held out his hand and you chuckled, “always been on my bucket list anyway.”

The two of you ran for about half a minute in the pouring rain but it was enough to completely drench you from your head down to your shoes. Dejun quickly punched in the code of his door and pulled you inside, already covering you in kisses as his blonde hair stuck to his forehead.

It was one item of clothing after another as the trail of clothes led down to his bedroom, where he had you in just your lacy nude coloured two piece set while he was slowly ridding himself of his pants.

You fell into his bed as you watched him slowly pull his leather belt from its hoops and his black slacks finally fell to the ground,

“You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever met you know that ?” Dejun groaned as his eyes scanned over your body and he hovered over you.

“I could say the same about you Xiao Dejun” you mused and pulled him in for another hot passionate kiss. His warm body settled on yours and you wrapped your legs around his waist, wanting him closer even though it wasn’t even possible at this point.

Dejun unclipped your bra and moved his lips down to your breasts, squeezing one in his hand while licking and nipping at the other. You arched your back wanting more but also not wanting to rush him.

“Really want this to last much longer but I’m at my wits end right now” you moaned and Dejun chuckled as he peppered kisses all the way back up to your mouth.

“We have tonight, tomorrow, the next day and the day after that” he smirked against your lips before tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth.

Distracted by the stinging sensation from your lip you shivered at Dejuns icy fingers that was now hooked in the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down.

He watched as you squirmed beneath him. Watched how your eyes closed and how you sucked in your bottom lip, awaiting his next move.

You mewled when you felt the cool air hit your arousal and Dejun rubbed slow circles on your clit before pushing two fingers inside you, making you moan his name for the first time that night.

His fingers moved slowly but roughly while his lips softly pecked your hips, abdomen and the very top of your mound.

He was so gentle with you but his movements were still dominating, the mixture was absolutely intoxicating. You pulled him up missing the taste of his lips and before pressing his mouth on yours he caressed your cheek,

“Let me know if it’s too much okay?” He whispered against your lips and you nodded not knowing what you were in for.

Dejun locked your arms above your head and used his free hand to remove his boxers before entering you, already finding a rhythm to his thrusts. You threw your head back and moaned his name yet again as he slammed in and out of you, his grunts and your whimpers filling the bedroom.

His hand stayed locked on your wrists as he used his other hand to knead your breast, giving you multiple sensations at once. You almost hated the fact that you were close to your peak and it hadn’t been more than five minutes of him inside you.

“God I really don’t wanna cum right now” you whined as he still pounded mercilessly inside you.

“Good thing I’m not gonna let you” Dejun murmured and just as you thought your orgasm had reached, he pulled out of you and rolled onto his back,

“Get on top.”

You listened to his instructions but before sitting back on his member you gave him a few pumps, finally able to see him squirm under your touch this time round. Dejun gave you a small smack on your butt, and you finally abided to his request and sat on top of him, the new position already bringing you back to where you started.

Dejun sat up to meet your thrusts as you rode him, and you found your hand tangled in his messy locks as the two of you practically screwed the hell out of each other. The kiss this time was filled with lust, filled with lip biting and exchanging of saliva as you felt your orgasm fast approaching and noticed Dejun’s pace was slowing down too,

“cum for me baby” Dejun mused as he used the last of energy to give you a few hard thrusts until you finally came undone and he followed quickly after.

It took about two minutes of trying to catch your breath before you finally rolled on the bed next to him and wiped the beads of sweat from your forehead.

“Yeah this...this was definitely missing in some of those novels” you turned to Dejun who had a smile spread across his face.

He pulled the covers over your bodies and pressed his lips to your forehead and cheek,

“Should we write our own novel then ?”

“Yeah, yeah we should” you smiled, closing your eyes feeling at peace as his warmness enveloped you.

#nct scenarios #nct smut #nct imagines #nct angst #nct au #nct drabble #wayv imagines #wayv au #xiaojun smut #Xiaojun fic #Xiaojun au #wayv smut #xiao dejun #kpop smut

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mashiraostail · 3 years

Note

do you have any hcs about mundane or like not inherently sexual turn ons for Kugo, Yagi, Aizawa, Hizashi and Nemuri?

oh boy do i.

Kugo Sakamata/Gang Orca Loungewear/comfort/lowkey body hair too. Seeing his clothes on you is a plus but really anything comfy looking in general. Loose formless sweat pants and baggy tees make him get all mushy inside. Especially if you’re someone who generally really likes to keep up with appearances, if you’re always dressed smart, sleek suits or skirts and dresses, shiny pointed heels or expensive-looking ties and dress shoes seeing you peel back that exterior and wear something cozy will really do it for Kugo. He loves your day to day look, don’t get him wrong, but knowing that you’re comfortable and feel loved and secure enough to let loose make his brain go whirr. If you wear makeup seeing you without it will be a treat for him, not because he prefers it one way or the other but because of the implication of it. If you normally shave but haven’t gotten around to it in the past few days/weeks don’t shy away from him, he likes the peach fuzz, the pricklies, or the dark, thicker hair that’s accumulated due to your forgetfulness. Again it’s not the hair or lack thereof that turns him on more just the thought that you’re comfortable enough with him to let him see whatever it is you have going on. He won’t dote on it, or ever tell you what to do with it, he most likely won’t even comment on it. Just the idea of you feeling so confident and comfortable in his attraction/love for your body makes him wanna worship it all the more.

Yagi Toshinori/All Might Seeing you with wet hair/freshly showered. He wants to dry your hair, please let him, sit between his legs and let him towel you off, he will definitely pepper sweet, thankful little kisses over the crown of your head, and if you encourage him they’ll travel down to the nape of your neck. He loves touching your hair and being close to you, and he loves how strong your scent is after a shower. Seeing your skin all smooth and damp and practically radiating heat will make him blush, the less clothing you have on the more prominent the color will be. He can’t help imagining how easily his hands could glide down your stomach or up the insides of your thighs, his mind will naturally wander to how it would feel to have your damp legs wrapped around his bare waist. But wet hair really makes him tick, the subtle texture, the way it’s slicked back. Even the darker color and shine of a wet buzzcut make him shiver. His mind will wander to the feeling of his fingers in it, wringing out extra water while your mouth does less than savory things to him. Watching you towel off your own hair also does something for him, a damp towel resting around your shoulder just beacons his lips to your neck, it’s a great tool to pull you in for a kiss as well. If you’re fresh out of the shower and he’s shying away from you don’t hesitate to break into his personal bubble, he’s flustered but he definitely enjoys the feeling.

Aizawa Shota/Eraser Head Unbuttoned shirts/partially exposed chests. He can’t really place it, crop tops are fun, a little sliver of belly peeking out is fun...but collarbones peaking out of a shirt collar, a shirt that’s just one button shy of providing appropriate coverage? That drives him nuts, he regularly has to avert his eyes from it, even as sleepwear, it makes something in him tick, he just wants to kiss and bite the delicate-looking skin until it’s red hot under his mouth. If you wear a bra being able to see the curves of the cups and the straps peeking past your shirt makes his stomach stir, if you have chest hair his eyes will be trained on the wall behind you, because he can’t look at it. A normally concealed chest tattoo drives him to dark, horny places reminiscent of his teen years. Once he starts he won’t be able to tear his eyes away until he’s touching you, don’t be offended he’s trying to listen, really he is...but if you’re trying to coax him into something sexual or not, pop a button or two undone mid-conversation, you can roll up your sleeves too it won’t hurt, and after the fact he’ll probably indulge you.

Hizashi Yamada/Present Mic Seeing you playing with your hair or tying it up. He likes watching the stretch of your shoulders as you wrap an elastic around it once, then twice, his eyes latching onto the flex of your bicep at each twist. If it’s too short for that just watching you run your fingers through it, twist it, tuck it behind your ear. Even watching you dust your palm over your buzz cut will make him immediately envious, he wants that to be his palm, he wants to be touching you, it’s his turn. Of course, what may be an innocent want turns dirty quickly, he can’t keep his hands off your when you’re going down on him and the first place his hands always go if to your head, no matter the length of your hair he’ll quickly become addicted to playing with, pulling it if length permits, though the soft fuzziness of a fresh buzzcut literally drives this man up a wall, whether it’s your whole head or a secret undercut/side shave tucked under some longer hair he won’t stop kissing it head for days, his fingers will always find it and his nails with rake lightly over your scalp, no matter how compromising his position. When you’re talking to him curl the ends of it around your fingers, make eye contact with him and pull it out of its elastic, fluff it up as it falls around your face, or take off your hat, maybe lazily adjust some flyaways. You won’t get to finish what you were saying, but is that really so bad?

Nemuri Kayama/Midnight Seeing you cook or like clean even in a million layers makes her chest twinge, but the more scantily clad the better, in her clothes is the best. She never really thought domesticity would be something she enjoyed so thoroughly. She liked living alone and having however many partners she pleased, people came and went easily none of them leading to anything serious, the ambiguity was comforting people leaving didn’t hurt but people coming was rewarding, there wasn’t really a downside. But once you got together though she found herself increasingly excited by little acts of nonsexual intimacy. Oh, you folded her laundry...oh..you DID her laundry? Oh...you did your laundry AND her laundry in the SAME load and now your clothes are all muddled together and who’s top is this, if it’s hers does she care if you wear it? She won’t answer your question but..Do you wanna kiss now? She’s always appearing behind you to tickle your neck with her lips and squeeze your waist when you’re doing mundane tasks, dusting is impossible the minute you reach for the top shelf and your shirt rides up she’s on you, you aren’t getting anymore cleaning done, actually depending on her mood you may end up making the mess a little worse. Don’t worry though she’ll offer to finish whatever task she interrupted after she’s done.

#kugo sakamata x reader #yagi toshinori x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #hizashi yamada x reader #nemuri kayama x reader #aizawa x reader #eraser head x reader #gang orca x reader #all might x reader #midnight x reader #bnha hc #bnha requests

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pemfrost · 3 years

Note

For bingo! How about parksborn with a secret relationship? Maybe with Harry scared his dad will find out, up to you 🤗

❤😊

Bingo fic 2/?

"Or, we could just… you know," Peter drew a small circle in the air with his index finger, "tell your dad about us."

For the first time in the 10 minutes they'd been on the subject, Harry stopped pacing through their living room apartment. Normally, Peter would take any win he could get- and calming Harry down would definitely be a win. However, the fact they were even having the conversation -again- was enough to overshadow any sense of victory. And, judging from the clenched fist at his side, Harry was not calm and only paused his nervous walking to stare incredulously at Peter.

"Tell him? Just- Peter!" He threw his arms in the air and resumed his pacing. "Do you know how hard I've worked to keep this from him?"

Peter maintained a neutral face and stepped into Harry's path. "We can't keep it from him forever."

Harry didn't protest when Peter pulled him close, but remained stiff despite the attempt at intimacy. "We've done great so far."

"Well, yea. It's easy to keep a new relationship secret at first, but it's not new anymore, Harry. How long can we keep up a lie?" His fingers dug into the back of Harry's sweater, clinging onto what he could of his boyfriend.

They'd been together nearly a year, officially anyway. At first it was easy to maintain Harry's desire for secrecy, to keep the media -even their friends- from finding out. Even though they had always been close, eventually people in their lives began to catch on. M.J, of course, was the first to confront them. But, when they moved into a new apartment together the previous month, the rest of their friends did the proverbial math.

"As long as it takes." Harry's breath was warm on Peter's neck. "With him officially out of prison, he's going to be around more. And- I can't deal with his disapproval. You know how he feels about us being friends- how do you think he would react to us dating?"

Peter sighed into Harry's hair and didn't respond.

___

The following weekend, Harry agreed to meet his father for dinner. For once, Peter didn't press the mater when Harry asked him to stay home, and for that he was thankful. Meeting with his father was always stressful, he didn't need an additional layer of worry.

Norman was not a subtle man. If he wanted something he asked for it. Or, as, was known to happen on occasion, he demanded it. Directly saying no to Norman Osborne was not something many people possessed the courage to do, and few were ever in a position to say no a second time..

For most of his childhood, even Harry was not immune to his father's intensity. He craved his approval and love. It was only when Harry befriended Peter that he realized what family could actually mean.

Now, Harry was in charge of the family business, and ran things differently. He expected their dinner conversation to revolve around his management practices, and the money he spent on community projects.

He hadn't expected his father to steer the conversation straight into the one subject matter Harry wanted to avoid.

"That- that is not necessary." Harry cleared his throat, partially regretting all the times he wished his dad would be more involved in his life. When he was younger, he just wanted him to show up to school events, his graduation, hell, even just listen to him talk about his day.

Perhaps his dad was trying to make up for lost time, but getting involved in his love life was crossing a line. He'd taken great care to keep his love life out of the press, and was being even more careful to keep it from his father.

"It's just a suggestion." Norman held up his hands over his empty plate. "I only meant… Harry, perhaps it wouldn't hurt to meet someone? Working so much… being alone…? It's not healthy, I would know."

"You weren't alone!" His fist slammed on the table as he stood.

"I know," Norman's voice was soft. "I know. I only mean…" he trailed off, then cleared his throat and tried again. "I know I didn't have to be alone. You were there, and I- I wasn't there for you. I don't want to see you make the same mistakes and purposefully be alone."

Harry studied a shadow on the wall, mulling over his father's words. He thought of Peter, and wondered what he was doing at that moment. "I'm not alone."

"Friends are different, Harry. What I'm talking about is-"

Harry gripped the edge of the table as he stood, leaning forward with the beginnings of a snarl. He wanted to yell, tell Norman that friendship was plenty satisfying to some people. Tell him he was happily dating someone. Tell him he didn't get to suddenly decide to be a father figure and offer life advice after years of neglect.

Yelling would definitely have felt good. Great, even. It wouldn't help repair the rift between them, and Norman was.. trying, in his own misguided way.

Harry released the breath he was holding and relaxed back into his seat. "I don't want to fight tonight."

Norman nodded and reached for the bottle of wine. "Agreed. I am sorry, I didn't know this would be such a delicate subject. Perhaps we can talk about something else?"

Harry accepted the offered wine, "Gladly."

"So, how are your friends?" Norman asked. "How is Peter? I've heard you're roommates now?"

---

"And then-" Harry dropped himself to the couch without any grace, "-he just had to ruin it all again!"

Peter slid next to him, scooting down to rest his head against Harry's chest. He wished he could have been there as a buffer between Harry and his father, but he had to settle for comforting him afterwards. "What did he do?"

"We were fine. Talked about my friends, and that book Ava recommended to me. And that art gallery we went to last month."

"Sounds nice."

"Yea, until he circled back around to the fact we live together." Harry couldn't keep the venom from his voice. They discussed it before Harry went over; it wasn't worth hiding their living… situation. It was common knowledge.

"Does he suspect-"

"He said having a roommate will hurt my chances of finding a partner. And that there are better ways to support my 'less fortunate' friends."

Peter didn't say anything. He couldn't, even if he wanted to; his throat constricted painfully as Harry's words reverberated in his head. He angled his face down so Harry couldn't see the unshed tears in his eyes.

"I told him to mind his own business and stop messing with my personal life then stormed out."

They remained on the couch for a while; Peter lost track of exactly how long they sat in silence. Eventually, they went to bed. Peter hummed and nodded the few times Harry said something as they changed for bed, but none of the words registered.

Sleep didn't find him for several hours, and when Peter woke up he was alone. It wasn't abnormal for Harry to leave before Peter woke up, he often had early morning meetings and snuck out as quietly as he could.

Peter groaned and ran a hand over his face. He still felt numb from the previous night and replayed the conversation over and over as he dragged himself out of bed and to the kitchen. The thought of eating made his stomach churn so he settled for instant coffee.

His laptop was on the table where he left it. He drummed his fingers on the table a moment before opening the laptop and leaning over as if to hide the screen from the empty apartment.

He loved Harry, of that he was sure. Yet-

Yet- he needed to have a very difficult conversation with Harry when he returned from work.

Peter sighed as he pulled up the website he'd fallen asleep thinking about. At the very least it would be cathartic to know what his options were should it come to it.

After some time there was a knock on the front door. Which wasn't rare, they had an elderly neighbor who often asked for favors- or brought over homemade treats.

"Good morning, Nancy I-" Peter sputtered as he opened the door, "Mr. Osborne! I- uh- good morning."

"Ah, Mr. Parker." He raised an eyebrow when Peter just stared.

"Um, Harry is at work." Peter wasn't sure what to do, but he erred on the side of caution and stepped aside. "Did you want to come in?"

Norman swept passed without hesitation. "Actually, I was hoping to speak with you."

Peter bit his cheek to keep from grimacing. Nothing good ever really came from them having a conversation in the past, and with his relationship with Harry on the line he doubted this conversation would break the pattern.

Norman made himself at home, either unaware or ignoring Peter's uncertainty. Peter wasn't concerned as he walked through the living room, Harry had been strict about not having any photographs of them outside of their bedroom. There was nothing to point to them being more than roommates.

"I had dinner with Harry last night and he-" Norman paused as he circled the table. In Peter's rush to the door he'd left his laptop open. "Apartment shopping?"

"Uh…"

Norman turned to look Peter over, his eyes hard and unreadable. "I see." He paused again before nodding once. "I spoke out of turn last night. I didn't intend for Harry to actually…"

"Oh. He told me a bit of your… concerns. This was my idea," Peter unfroze and crossed the room, closing the laptop in a vain hope to end the conversation.

"You've always been there for him." Norman glided over to their couch but didn't sit. He hesitated a moment before continuing, "You truly care about him."

Peter was skeptical of his motives. "He's my best friend."

"... Truly."

"You said you came to talk to me?" Peter stepped towards him, keeping the couch between them.

"That was all," Norman said as he slipped his phone from his pocket. He typed for a few seconds before nodding in Peter's direction. "I'll see you around, Peter."

Peter let him out and stumbled onto the couch, reeling from the odd conversation with Norman Osborne. Before he could contemplate it further, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

"Not a great time, Harry." He sat it next to him and let it ring out.

It rang again. And then a third time. Then, Harry sent a text. 'Call me asap'

Peter groaned, he still had so much to think about before he talked to Harry. Still, he called Harry back, concerned by Harry's sudden calls.

"Peter!" Harry sounded out of breath. "Shit, I was worried- I thought- Peter, I love you."

"Is everything okay? Where are you?" Peter didn't like the crack in Harry's voice.

"I just got in my car, I'm on my way home."

"Why? Did something happen?"

"Did- are you ok? What-"

"I'm sorry. Peter, I'm sorry. I didn't think- I can't- don't leave."

"Babe, calm down. What's going on?"

"My dad- he text me, said he stopped by to talk to you--" His breath hitched. "He said I should ask you out before you put a deposit down on a new apartment. Why are you- did you-"

"Harry. Hey- that's- I was going to talk to you tonight. But I-"

"So it is true? It's not something he made up to get his way?"

"I wanted to see what there was. I don't want to- I love you Harry."

"If you didn't want to move out then why look for a new apartment?"

Peter tightened his grip on his phone. "Because I- I was afraid of what- of how- I wanted to know my options. I can't keep living a lie. Pretending you're not the love of my life whenever we're-"

"Don't leave. I'm almost home."

"I'm not going anywhere. Hey, Harry?"

"Yeah?" Harry sniffled.

"I love you."

"Love you."

"And, hey, Harry?"

"Y-yeah?"

"Did your dad really tell you to ask me out?"

"..."

"Harry?"

"Oh my God. He did."

___

Thanks for reading! This one went way long too. I wanted some Norman trying to reconcile but still fucking it up but ultimately helping.

#pem writes #parksborn #harry osborn #peter parker

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coolepowersthings · 3 years

Text

You’re Not Wrong

pairing: George Weasley x fem!reader

summary: Y/N has someone in her life to take care of her physical needs, but who she really wants is her friend, George Weasley. What will happen when he confronts her about her taste in men?

warnings: NSFW 18+, unprotected sex, sex with multiple partners, oral, dirty talk.

Authors Note: So friends, I haven’t written any fanfiction in quite a while, and I decided to jump back in by writing my first NSFW story. This is pretty much just smut, if I’m honest. It’s also my first try at writing something so explicit, and so I’m not sure how I feel about it, but at this point it is what it is! I hope you enjoy it! ______________________________________________________________

There was something incredible feeling about the ache you felt in your torso the morning after. You stretch out across the bed and let the dull feeling reach across your body. It hadn’t been the best sex of your life, but it had been enough to make you feel less dull, to provide your body with the dim buzzing that made you feel more alive. Jeff was already up, and the smell of coffee was almost enough to make you roll out of bed and throw on the t-shirt you had discarded last night. Instead, you pull the comforter over your head and give yourself a few more moments of quiet.

Jeff was not who you wanted to be with. It was not Jeff’s hands you wanted on your body, not his lips that you hoped to feel ghosting over your skin. But you knew having the man you really wanted was a fantasy, and so for now, Jeff would have to do.

Sighing, you decide to get up, get dressed, and pad down to Jeff’s kitchen to get some coffee and head home. Jeff wasn’t a bad guy. You had met one night at the pub and hit it off well enough. So, every time you felt an ache that needed to be filled, Jeff seemed like a safe bet. Normally, though, the ache was brought on by a very different person. The large, steady hands, the knowing smirk, the red hair that you would give anything to run your hands through. Yes, George Weasley was who you really wanted, and he was one person you knew you could not have.

“Morning Y/N,” Jeff said, smiling at you over his cup. “Sleep well?”

You humm and accept the cup out of his hands.

“You’re already dressed? I hoped maybe you’d stay for a while.”

“I can’t today,” you say. “I have some errands to run, and then I’m due in the shop at one.”

“Always at the bloody shop,” Jeff mumbles.

“You know I am. The boys need help, and what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t assist?”

Jeff just looks at you.

“Oi! Y/N!” Fred calls as you make your way into the bustling shop. “About time you showed up, we’re slammed!”

“I told you I’d be here this afternoon Freddie!” you call back, taking the apron that he throws to you and tying it around your waist. “Where do you want me?”

“Well isn’t that a loaded question,” came a softer voice from behind you.

“Cheeky,” you say, glancing at George. “Especially from someone who supposedly needs my help.”

“I always need you, and it’s never stopped me from being cheeky before.”

You smile up at him, hoping he can’t tell the effect he has on you. Although, if he can, then you’ve been a lost cause for a long time. It seems like forever ago that you stopped thinking of George as a friend and started thinking of him as something more, but as far as you could tell, he had no idea. He flirted with you, of course. But that was just his way. Fred teased you too, but Fred felt like a brother – one who ruffled your hair and poked fun at you when you dropped someone’s change or knocked something off a shelf. George’s teasing had an edge, a clear flirtation that made your face tint crimson and that you thought about when you were alone at night. Even the nights you spent with Jeff, George was never far from your thoughts. Still, you know you had been friends too long to start something with him. Fred and George were your best friends – you’d been through everything together, and you wouldn’t take the chance of ruining things now. Besides, if George felt the same way, he’d surely have made it known by now.

“Just point me in the right direction,” you say, rolling your eyes.

George smiles at you, and you hear Fred scoff. “Take over the registers, would you?” Fred finally said. “I need cheeky here to help me in the back room.”

When the store finally closed for the day, you were utterly exhausted. The twins hadn’t been kidding, the store had been packed until George had locked the door at closing time. You had rung up the last customer and were now counting out the till for the day. Fred was sweeping, and he passed the register as he made his way through the store.

“Big plans tonight, Y/N?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” you say, keeping your eyes on the galleons you were counting. Even after years of being in the wizarding world, you still had a harder time counting out gold than muggle money.

“Does that mean you’re going to see old Jeffy boy?”

You heard a snort from behind you.

“Well he’s nothing but ordinary, is he?” says George, carrying a box past you and towards a depleted looking display.

“Jeff’s nice,” you say, glaring at him. You watch him set the heavy box down, his arm muscles clearly flexing under his shirt. You suppose glaring would work better, you realize, if you weren’t using it as an excuse to openly stare.

“Nice isn’t much of a compliment, you know,” George says.

You shrug. “Well, he is nice. Nice enough for now.”

“Yeah, and they’re keeping it casual, remember?” says Fred. “I think ‘nice’ is fine for our little Y/N’s fling.” He winks at you. “Just don’t go getting your heart broken, yeah? I would hate to have to beat up the ‘nice’ guy.”

“Someone can’t break your heart if they don’t have it, Freddie,” you say. “Besides, if someone hurt me, I’d be the one doing the beating.”

“I don’t doubt it,” he says chuckling, as he takes the broom and heads to the back.

George still stands at the display, emptying the box and arranging the merchandise, his back to you. He was strangely quiet, and you watched him as he worked. He seemed agitated. He kept running a hand through his hair in clear annoyance, his red hair standing straight up. You thought about what it would feel like to be the one with your fingers in his hair, to grasp onto it and tug as he assaulted your mouth, your neck, your body. You watched his large hands as they filled the shelves, sure and steady. Is that how they would feel if he touched you? Strong. Controlled. You shivered. You had to stop this line of thinking if you wanted to help finish closing the store, and you knew it wasn’t wise to daydream about your crush when he was this close to you.

Luckily, Fred returns and offers a distraction from your thoughts.

“Well, we’re swept and sorted,” he says. “If you’re done with the deposit, I’ll run it over to Gringotts before I meet up with Angelina.”

You nod. “Yeah, I’m finished.”

“Brilliant. You don’t mind finishing up here with Georgie, do you?”

“I suppose the hot date can wait,” you laugh at him.

George snorts. Fred raises his brows at you and then chuckles. “Ok, thanks so much for the help, Y/N!” he says, giving you a quick hug and heading to the door.

Once he leaves, you set your eyes back on George.

“What is your problem?”

“What?” he says. “I don’t have a problem.”

“Well you certainly seem to. Every time Fred or I so much as mention my life, you seem to have a quick retort.”

“We’ve always bantered with each other, Y/N. I don’t see why it would be different now.”

“We have, but why is it that I get the feeling today that you really mean it. You don’t have to be so mean about Jeff, that’s all.”

“Oh, like you really care about that tosser.”

“Maybe I do.”

“Be serious, Y/N. There is nothing remotely hot about any dates you have with that boy. He is the most average piece of white toast I have ever met.”

You glare at him again, offended. Jeff may not be your soulmate, but he truly is a nice person. And he helps you cure the ache that exists in the pit of your belly every time you leave the presence of the man currently in front of you.

“Well, better to be white toast than a complete ass,” you say. “My gosh, do you hear yourself?”

George was looking at you now. He had put down the box and crossed his arms across his chest. His brown eyes were intense, and he scowled at you as if he could see right through you. Your hand twitched, the desire to smooth out his wrinkled brow making itself known, even in your anger.

“Oh, I hear myself. And I hear you too. That wasn’t much of an argument, love. And I’m not an ass, I’m just being honest.”

Your anger swelled at how smug he was, but the unexpected endearment only managed to increase the desire you also felt for him, bubbling just below the surface. How could one man make you feel so much at once?

He walked towards you and you took a step back, your body now stuck between his piercing look and the counter. “You deserve more than that, you know?” he tilted his head to the side. “Or maybe you don’t know? All those boys you were with at school were never good enough for you either.”

“All those boys? Merlin, George. You make me sound like a floosy,” you say, trying to hold on to your anger even though his close proximity was making your legs feel weak.

“No, never that,” George said, his eyes softening. “I just don’t like to see you hurt. And you pick guys that are all wrong for you, Y/N.”

“Oh really? Then what guys are right for me, George,” you say. You sounded braver than you felt, looking him straight in the eye, daring him to tell you who would be a proper beau for you in the eyes of George Weasley.

“I only have one in mind,” he says. Then he steps forward, pulling you into him and crashing his lips to yours.

The kiss was intense, and at first you didn’t react, caught off guard by this sudden shift from anger to intimacy. But it didn’t take long to process what was happening. George, your George, was kissing you. Before he could change his mind, before he could pull away, which you were sure he would, you reached your arms up around him, your fingers tangling in his hair. Recognizing that you were kissing him back, George pushed into the kiss even further, licking into your mouth. His hands held your hips, tightly, his fingers sliding under the bottom of your shirt and pressing into the flesh below. He left your mouth and started kissing down your neck, hot, hungry, kissing and biting his way. He kissed back up to your ear and sucked on the tender flesh there.

“Oh, George,” you let out in a breathy moan.

“Fuck,” he says, pushing his body flush against yours. You could feel him, his desire pressed hard against your stomach. But despite his body’s reaction to you, saying his name seemed to have stopped his assault on your neck. He pulls back to look at you, his eyes dark.

“Tell me to stop, and I’ll stop,” he says.

“Never,” you say, pulling him in to kiss you again. “I want this. I want you.”

As his lips met yours again, his hands go to your waist before making their way around your body and to your ass. He squeezes, hard, and then lifts you up off the floor and slides you onto the counter. He nudges his way between your legs, his hardness pressed against where you want him most, his hands moving upwards to hold your face for just a moment, before moving back down to your waist and pulling your shirt over your head.

“Here?” you whisper, looking around you as he started kissing down your neck again, headed for your breast.

“Do you have objections?” he asks, unclasping your lacy bra and tossing it to the side.

Somewhere in your fuzzy brain, you feel like there is a reason you should not be doing this with George in a very public shop, but you aren’t sure you really care at the moment what those reasons are.

“No,” you breathed out, as his mouth begins sucking on your taut nipple. “Godric, push me against the front window and I won’t complain.”

You feel him smile against your breast.

“I knew you didn’t like nice guys,” he says, his mouth biting down, gently.

You wrap your legs around his waist, trying to pull him impossibly closer to you.

“Too many clothes,” you say, pulling at his shirt. He stands back up and brings his mouth back to yours, giving you access to unbutton his shirt and push it off of him. You linger on his arms, his muscles flexing under your touch, before moving down to his trousers and pushing them down. His dark grey boxer briefs are all that hide him from you now, and as you pull them away from his body and push them down, you almost gasp at how large he is. He stepped back to kick the remnants of his clothes away, and you place your hands on his shoulders, pushing him lightly so that he backs away farther, slipping off the desk and onto your knees.

“Oh,” he moans out, as you take him into your mouth. You look up at him through your lashes.

“Fuck, you look so pretty with my cock in your mouth,” he says. You hum and he throws his head back, moaning again. His hands go to your hair, tangling in the long strands and applying just enough pressure for you to know when he particularly likes something. After a few minutes, you feel him jerk slightly, and then his hands move to your shoulders, pushing you gently away.

“Not that I haven’t dreamed of coming in your mouth,” he says, pulling you up to your feet, his mouth close to your ear, “but I want to be inside you.” You shiver and move to pull off your skirt.

“Let me,” he says, grabbing your hands and releasing them from the fabric. But rather than pull the skirt down, he skims his hands down the fabric and then back up your thighs to your panties, pulling them down with a quick tug. You raise an eyebrow at him for a moment, but then he is touching you, his hands making quick work, his fingers circling your clit before finding their way inside you. You moan, arching back against the counter.

“So wet for me, love,” he says. “Fuck, I can’t wait to be inside of you.” You whimper, and then he twists his hand, his fingers finding new purchase in just the right spot and his other hand rubbing at your clit in unison. “Oh!” you cry out, your hands pulling at his hair. He smirks at you “Keep making those pretty sounds for me love. I’m going to make you come from my fingers first, and then from my cock.” “Oh fuck, George,” you mewl, the intensity building inside of you. “That’s it love, say my name,” George replies. With a final flick of his fingers you come undone.

Gasping and trying to come back down for your high, you almost don’t notice as George takes hold of you, cradling you into his arms for just a moment, and laying softer kisses on your neck before moving up to your ear and nibbling there. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted this, you?” he asks. All you can manage is to moan as he continues his attack on your body with his mouth. “I hated the other men you were with, not because of who they were, but because they got to be with you. Merlin, you’re gorgeous. And smart and funny.” He stops and looked at you, his eyes taking on a serious expression. “I want you, Y/N. Not just now, but always, do you understand? This isn’t just a fling for me. I want all of you.” Without a second thought, you nod, placing your hands on either side of his face and pulling him to your mouth for a kiss. This time, the kiss starts out slow and sweet, but it quickly turns back to something more, the fire still lit inside of both of you. George’s hands are on your waste, pushing down your skirt so it puddles at your feet, and then lifting you back up onto the counter, stepping between your legs and aligning himself at your entrance.

“Sure?” he whispers one more time against your lips. “Yes,” you breath out, and then he is pushing in, filling you. He stills for just a moment before he starts moving inside of you, your foreheads pressed together, your breathing mingled and heavy. He kisses you hard on the mouth and then pulls back, his eyes looking down to watch where your two bodies are joined. “You’re fucking perfect,” he says, lifting your leg up so that it is over his shoulder, allowing him deeper, hitting the spot that longs for him most. “Oh!” you gasp. “You feel so good.” He smirks “You feel amazing, so tight and wet.” He brings his other hand back to your clit again. “Come for me again love.” And you do, the feeling of his hands and his body and being like this with George all taking over. “I’m almost there,” he pants out against your shoulder, “want to spill it all in you. Can I?” You nod against his neck “Come in me, now George,” you say. You feel him shudder at your words, his body moving faster until he reaches his release, your name spilling from his mouth as he finishes. He buries his head in your shoulder as he pants, both of you trying to catch your breath. You are the first to giggle. He lifts his head and looks at you questioningly, but then his smile breaks out wide, and he is also laughing, the two of you smiling and holding onto each other and laughing.

“Well, I suppose it took us long enough to get around to that,” you say, still smiling at him. He grins back and pulls you in for a soft kiss. “This is just the beginning, love,” he says. “Now, what say you to going and cleaning up together in my bath, hmm? I mean, we’ll shower together, obviously, to save water.” You smack him lightly on the arm. “You’re incorrigible, George Weasley,” you say. You look at him then with puppy dog eyes. “And what about my hot date?” He looks at you in mock disbelief for a moment. “Darling, I’m the hottest day you’ll ever have.” He winks and then picks you up, carrying you bridal style up to the twins flat. “You’re not wrong, George,” you say, nuzzling into him. “You’re not wrong.”

#george weasely #george weasely x reader #george wealsey imagine #george weasely smut

151 notes · View notes

vhsrights · 3 years

Note

Ever since I saw them posts about JJ have short hair??? Like a pixie cut??? Wanna do me a solid and tell me your thoughts on Emily’s first (and maybe subsequent) reaction when JJ walks into the bullpen? Assuming they’re not together already.

OH OH BRILLIANT THOUGHT WHILE IM WRITING THIS: JJ with short hair AND a leather jacket. I feel like PG definitely had a hand in this new change in JJ...

for sure i gotchu! :) this was one that i have been wanting to do for a while. (edit: so i know that you only asked for my thoughts but i got really excited and into it so i turned it into an OS) <3

Dashing

Pairing: Pre Jemily - talked about

WC: 4.8k words

Summary: JJ with short hair, and what it does to Emily :) [bullpen and team night out version; pre jemily] (like a prelude to gnc jj)

It happened on a Thursday afternoon. JJ had been shaking all day, but Penelope had convinced her that it would be okay. The blonde locks that she had been identified with for so long felt even heavier against her shoulders. She made sure to stay hidden away in her office, thanking her lucky stars that they were off case rotation. Her fingers consistently found themselves back into her hair, twisting and twirling them relentlessly. If JJ could have simply willed her long hair away, she would have. She restlessly twirled the pen in her hand for several hours, making little headway on the mountain of files by her. Her eyes kept darting over to the screen of her computer monitor, feverishly checking and rechecking the time.

5:45 pm. That was when the appointment was set for. JJ wished that she would be able to simply forget about it until then. Maybe if she did, she would actually get more work done. She texted Penelope, who was out for coffee on a break, to get her some too. Soon after she got the caffeine, JJ was able to shut out the rest of her thoughts. The boost alone drove her to finish files at triple her previous rate. Maybe that was also the adrenaline. Her phone broke her trance-like consciousness when it began to beep incessantly. She had set an alarm to go off 45 minutes before her appointment, enough time for her to wrap up at the office and calm her nerves before she made the short 10-minute drive to the barbershop.

Feeling her heart pound harder in her chest, JJ sat back in her chair to ground herself. She decided that getting up before she had a grip on her emotions was not a good idea. JJ let her eyes close gently and her mind began to wander. In her head, JJ saw the faces of those that she had met as this version of herself. They had all changed her, for better or for worse, and the memories began to flow in. It started with her mother and father. They had given a life that she couldn’t have been more appreciative of in the early years, forgoing the memories of harsh words and other negative acts. Moving on quickly, the next face flashed before her eyes. Roslyn.

Her sister had been her saving grace before JJ could even comprehend the idea. JJ had always looked up to the girl. Roslyn was phenomenal and JJ could only imagine how far she would have made it if she had still been alive. Roslyn was the one that had taught JJ how to braid her hair, wash it, and even curl it. Roslyn had curled her long blonde hair for the first time when she watched her get ready for the homecoming dance. It had only been one clump of strands but the way that her sister had so gently handled her locks left JJ in awe of Roslyn’s caring nature. After Roslyn left, JJ held onto her hairstyle, scared to let go of it as it sometimes felt like her only tie to her older sister.

Her college best friends, partners in the Academy, Hotch, Reid, Rossi, and so many more came and left in her thoughts. It was like her thoughts were forming their own little presentation of what JJ was getting rid of today. Some had more important roles than others but she had to remind herself that today wasn’t getting rid of anything but her hair. She was still JJ, but this felt more real. She wouldn’t have to avert her eyes in the mirror as much, and it would help to match her appearance more closely to how she felt inside.

Eventually, her mind came to the inevitable. Emily. Emily was something to JJ that she couldn’t describe. JJ loved Emily, but it wasn’t just that. Over time, as she had gotten to know the woman, JJ had come to truly understand her. It was the kind of intimacy that relied on the briefest of eye contact, all thoughts conveyed in body language alone. She couldn’t tell Emily though. It was too risky, and no matter how bold JJ was, Emily was a whole new world. She pushed away the thought that Emily would hate her haircut. If Emily rejected the haircut, it would feel more like she rejected who JJ truly was. But she would never do that. Right?

No, Emily would never do that. She couldn’t, because then JJ didn’t know what she’d do. Trying to distract herself from the increasing anxiety, she tried to remember their Girl’s Nights and separate hangouts where Emily would mindlessly run her fingers through JJ’s hair. It was how she calmed JJ, and the experience itself felt like home to the blonde. Glancing down at her watch, JJ realized that she got a bit too tied up with her imagination and saw that it was 5:25. Grabbing her things in a frenzy, JJ quickly headed out of the bullpen. She caught a glance of Morgan, eyebrows raised in bewilderment. JJ waved the team off, not slowing down on her way to the elevator. Hotch already knew that she was taking the early day so she was set.

JJ shot a text off to Garcia before driving off, telling her to check her office for anything that JJ might have forgotten and that she was going to her apartment after the haircut. Throwing her phone into the passenger seat, JJ drummed her fingers against the steering as she pulled out of the parking lot. She drove to the barbershop and reached in 7 minutes. Emily and her crazy driving skills would have been proud. Exiting the door rather quickly, JJ ran her fingers through her hair one last time.

This was goodbye.

She fidgeted with her fingers the entire time she waited for her appointment. JJ rocked her body gently, forward and backward, grounding herself in the steady rhythm. After some time, a person wearing a short-sleeved, cuffed button-down and a large black apron approached her. Their hair was cropped short, the sides shaved to a small length to let the top flow over their forehead. It was perfectly what JJ wanted. She felt her face grow hot at the realization that this was actually happening. JJ was going to do the big chop.

“Hi, Welcome to the Queer Barbers’ Guild. My name is Tay and I can help you today. JJ, isn’t it?” Tay held out their hand as JJ stood up, initiating their quick handshake.

“Uh, yeah. I had said over the phone that I wanted to cut most of my hair off. Actually, I would like exactly what you have. If that works?” JJ took quick strides to keep up with the barber, hearing the bustle of the shop as they got closer to the chair.

Tay chuckled, nodded, and gestured for JJ to sit in the seat. They pumped up its height, adjusting it to their work position. She sat down eagerly, feeling energized as the moment of the cut drew nearer.

“So are you looking to do a wash first today? I can definitely do my cut on you, so it’s just whatever you want. I would have to say though, I think you’re going to look rather dashing.” JJ blushed and failed to respond.

Dashing. Not pretty.

“I haven’t washed my hair in a few days for this haircut, so that would be nice. Thank you.”

JJ sat back in the chair and let Tay drape the apron cover over her. They combed through her hair slowly, getting tassels out and examining it for the cut. Once it was all brushed out, they measured out lengths and showed them to JJ in the mirror. JJ soon came to an idea of what she wanted.

Tay led her out of the chair and over the washing room. She sat down and made herself comfortable. JJ tried to solidify those last few moments in her head as the last memories she had with her long hard. The warm water began to run over her scalp and she forgot what else was running through her head. Before she knew it, the wash was over and she was back in the hair cut chair.

Now was the time.

They dried her hair and combed through it again. JJ closed her eyes. She was scared of what would happen. What if it wasn’t right? How would she undo the damage? She then felt a chilled glass against her fingers. Slowly peeking one eye open, she spotted some kind of alcohol in Tay’s outstretched hand. Curious, JJ looked up at the barber.

“To calm your nerves. Don’t worry, I’ve done plenty of these chops myself and I had my own. Trust me, things are only going to get better from here. So, here’s to relaxing. You earned it.”

“Thank you. Really, thank you.” JJ couldn’t explain her gratitude as she took the glass.

Maybe everything would be okay.

JJ relaxed and Tay began to gather her hair for the big chop. Tay carefully sectioned her hair, making sure to constantly check the length. Then, the time came. Tay lightly tapped her on the shoulder, indicating that they had the scissors at the ready. All they needed was the go-ahead from JJ. The blonde took in one last deep breath, giving them permission on her exhale.

The first cut was the most jarring. JJ could feel the hair being cut, its strands tugging at the sharp shears. She let out a gasp and everything happened too quickly for her to process after that. The hair fell left and right, leaving her head feeling instantly lighter and freer.

Tay worked incredibly efficiently. They managed to keep checking in with JJ as they deftly cut her hair. Soon, it was gone. The buzz of the razor sent a jolt up JJ’s spine but Tay quickly reassured her. They made light passes and cut down the hair on the sides and back. It was still nearly half an inch long, but that was exactly what JJ wanted.

“There you go. All done, JJ. What do you think?” Their voice cut through the haze of JJ’s thoughts and she turned her head, examining her new look.

The long hair was gone.

JJ had short hair now. It felt like a high, like one she’d never felt before but would never let up again. She ran her fingers through it, marveling at the softness and sleek nature of the look. She looked pretty fucking dashing. JJ turned around and looked at Tay, struggling to keep her tears at bay. She shouldn’t be on the verge of crying. JJ chastised herself internally.

“I- I don’t really have the words to thank you right now. I know that I shouldn’t be so emotional over a haircut, but you made everything perfect.” JJ held her head down, trying to hold back the tears.

“Of course. It’s no problem. For the emotions, believe me, I was a sobbing mess when I got my first big chop. You can always ask for me when you come to the Guild. Thanks for coming, and we can go up to the front for payment now.”

JJ paid and left the establishment. She was still dazed, not sure if everything was real. Her fingers found their way back into her hair several times, simply running through it as she made her way to the car. Her watch showed 7:03 pm as the time and JJ pulled out her phone. Her fingers quivered as she typed out her text to Penelope. She didn’t want to text her friend a picture of herself, deciding to keep the hair a surprise until she arrived at Penelope’s apartment.

Jayje (7:03 PM): Got the haircut. Pen this feels fucking crazy. I almost cried in the shop because of how nice my barber was and how I look. Heading over now.

PG (7:03 PM): AHHHH im so excited for you!! i already know that you look hot as fuck babes.

JJ smiled and set her stuff aside. She was off to Penelope’s apartment. The analyst had told her that she had a surprise for her.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

JJ pulled up to the analyst’s apartment. The sun was still high in the sky outside, and she could hear the chirp of several little birds off in the distance. Penelope was waiting for her. Taking one last deep breath, JJ walked towards the front door. It was part of a little archway to a quaint apartment but it could have been the door to the White House with how nervous JJ was.

She shivered as she rang the doorbell. Here goes nothing. Reaction number one, how bad can it be? Penelope had already been anticipating JJ’s arrival so the door flew open mere seconds later. She appeared in the doorway, beaming with energy. Then she laid her eyes on JJ.

“OH. MY. GOD. JAYJE. YOU LOOK AMAZING.” Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped at the sight of JJ.

Penelope dragged JJ into the apartment faster than the blonde could respond to her statement. She was bubbling with excitement, super ready to give JJ her present. Penelope began to give a preface before they reached her couch. On it, sat a medium-sized silver bag. Tissue was popping out of the top and JJ was drawn to it. Penelope noticed her eyes on the present.

“Go ahead. Open it. I got it for you because I think it definitely matches your new vibe and that you ARE wearing it to team drinks tomorrow. Emily won’t be able to take her eyes off of you!”

JJ paused.

“What does Emily have to do with this?” She looked back at Penelope, her forehead scrunched in confusion.

“You’re joking, right? You can’t seriously ignore the tension between you two. It’s Miss Darking and Brooding and The Badass Baby Blonde. You two are a power couple! Unless, you aren’t madly in love with her and would be fine with me setting her up with this other friend of mine…”

“Okay, okay. No setting Emily up with your friend. She’s mine, thank you very much.” JJ spoke confidently, knowing that Penelope could see right through her bravado.

“I’m sure she is. That’s why you asked her out. Oh, wait…”

“Fine, so I haven’t asked her out. I’m just terrified. She’s Emily.”

“Yeah, and you’re JJ. Plus, now you have that super butch look so you can ask her out tomorrow. But not until you open the gift!” Penelope pointed at the glossy bag once more.

JJ rolled her eyes and turned back to the bag. She slowly pulled out the tissue and spotted dark fabric underneath it. Reaching inside, it was cool to the touch. JJ pulled out a black, leather jacket. It was sleek with 4 zippers, 2 collar buttons, and seams that traced around the jacket.

JJ thumbed it and fell more and more in love with it as she took in the jacket more. It was perfect. This jacket, combined with the haircut and the way that Tay complimented her earlier, felt like an amalgamation of the person that she was supposed to be. JJ wasn’t the girl that hid behind her femininity and used it as a weapon to get her way. In fact, her femininity did more against her than it did for her. Pushing that thought out of her head, JJ turned to Penelope.

With tears in her eyes, she hugged Penelope. She hugged her with all her might. She couldn’t describe the feeling in her head. Later, she would come to find out that it was gender euphoria. But in that moment, every positive emotion felt weak in comparison to the explosion of happiness in her mind.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

JJ had opted for her pantsuit for work on Friday. Her normal skirt suits just didn’t fit who she saw herself as in the moment. Whether that would change or not, she didn’t know. It felt powerful, and with her hair coiffed up, JJ was unstoppable.

The elevator doors dinged open and she hesitantly took her first step. The big glass doors of the BAU seemed daunting now, and it made JJ feel small. She felt insignificant and her breath partially caught in her throat. Looking over at her watch, JJ realized that she was almost late. Deciding that the time to wait was over, JJ took confident strides forward. She pushed the doors open and made her way to her office until something stopped her.

Derek’s voice boomed out in front of her. Reid and the rest of the BAU men were sitting at his desk and their eyes lifted up to meet hers. It took all of JJ’s strength not to turn on her heel and bolt. But she loved this haircut, and it made her confident; so she had to act like it. Slowing up her stride, she detoured over to the group. Derek had called out to her, commenting on the haircut.

All of them were genuinely curious, stating their approval multiple times. JJ even got a fistbump from Derek and a wide smile from Spencer. Hotch’s usual morose expression lightened up. They talked about how she had wanted to get it, the differences from long hair, and the overall confidence boost. It was invigorating. More than anything else, JJ felt her heart swell at the sheer support from her teammates. They joked about her being one of the guys; and though right now it was short hair, JJ could feel that it was just the tip of the iceberg.

They eventually got to the topic of where she cut it and JJ casually mentioned the barbershop. At that, Derek’s eyes lit up. He was always one to preach the benefits of a barbershop, offering the argument that it was a place that created a sense of family. He asked if it had been The Queer Barber’s Guild, to which JJ had nodded her head. His interest peaked, Derek asked if it had been Penelope’s recommendation. To that, JJ nodded enthusiastically again.

“Yeah, she’s always loved that place. Babygirl got me hooked on it too, right after I came out. They’ve got some really cool bi stuff in there. Who did you have? Was it Tay? They’re my bro, and a top notch barber.”

“I did have them. They made things so easy. I’m definitely only going there from now on.”

JJ and the group carried on their conversation for a little longer when she heard a squeal behind her. She turned partially to see Penelope clacking over in her yellow heels. She had a huge smile plastered on her face, and was obviously excited for JJ.

“Jayje! You look even better today than you did yesterday! So what’s going on, are we talking about the QBG because, my god, do I love that place!”

Everyone giggled and they continued the conversation. Penelope watched as JJ’s eyes shifted around the bullpen ever so slightly. Of course. JJ was looking for the only missing member, arguably her favorite one. Emily. Penelope held back her laugh yet could help but to smile at the blonde’s little search. She leaned in close to JJ and tapped her on the shoulder.

“She’s in the break room.” JJ tried to fake obliviousness, but she knew that she’d been caught.

“Thanks PG.”

Casually excusing herself from the conversation, JJ left on the behest of “files that she needed to tend to”. She didn’t care if anyone bought the excuse. In her mind, the only place for her to go was the break room. JJ wanted to show Emily the “new her”. Of course, it wasn’t new, but she felt different. Trying not to give things much more thought, JJ arrived at the break room with a quick pace.

She noticed Emily at the coffee counter, stirring her mug. JJ was overcome with something at the sight of Emily. Not even thinking, she leaned against the doorframe and called out to the brunette.

“Got enough for another cup?” Her voice was nonchalant but her heart was pounding in her chest.

Emily perked up at the sound but didn’t turn around. She finished stirring her coffee and began turning around before starting to speak.

“Jen! Oh, shoot, I just used the last of it for my cup.” Emily spoke cheerily as she brought the mug to her lips.

Then her eyes landed on JJ.

Emily completely froze, nearly choking on her coffee. Her eyes widened as they took in her friend’s new look. JJ looked hot. There was a pervading silence between them, but neither could break their trance for long enough to say something. Emily looked over the short hair on JJ’s head, inspecting it almost. She noticed how it’s varied length set off the blonde’s angular features. Emily could almost feel her knees go weak but held it together.

Neither knew nor cared to time how long they stayed like that. It somehow hadn’t reached the point of awkwardness, but both JJ and Emily’s minds were overactive. At some point, JJ managed to point back at the coffee pot. Emily jolted up and moved to the side, breaking her haze. Her gaze instead landed on their best friend in the distance, who was giving her a very enthusiastic thumbs up. Penelope Garcia really was something.

Emily rolled her eyes and turned back to JJ. She was setting things up for a new pot of coffee and the brunette couldn’t help but to watch her intently.

“So, uh, Jen. The haircut. You look amazing. It really suits you.”

“Thanks, Em. I just got it yesterday and I already feel like a whole new person. It’s a bit strange, but honestly, I love it.”

Emily smiled dopily, attempting to hide her grin behind her sips of coffee. They spoke for a little longer before the coffee was nearly done brewing. The small talk was comfortable, though not the kind of conversations they usually had. It was workplace appropriate because that was what JJ and Emily were, colleagues.

“Okay, I’m gonna head back to my desk. I’ll see you at team drinks tonight?” Emily patted JJ’s arm and turned to leave.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” JJ blushed and the two ignored the giddiness they felt.

After leaving the break room, Emily made her way to Penelope’s lair instead. She definitely had some thoughts about JJ’s new look.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hotch, Reid, and Rossi were the first to arrive. They were known for their punctuality. The bar wasn’t crowded just yet, the Friday night crowd was beginning to flow in. They had all changed into more casual wear, except for Rossi. The men made small talk until Derek and Emily drove in nearly 15 minutes later. They had hung out before and just decided to ride in together.

Emily and Derek’s arrival immediately added more pizzazz to the event, spurring them to order the first round of drinks. Things were lively after a crushing week at work and the BAU was ready to let loose. Not long after Emily had placed their drinks order, JJ and Penelope arrived.

JJ was wearing a white Tshirt, ripped black jeans, vans, and most importantly the leather jacket. She drowned out any thoughts of doubt with the idea that this was her family and that soon they would be intoxicated enough to simply not care. She trailed slightly behind Penelope’s eager steps but they eventually reached the table. Hotch spotted her first. He gave her an approving nod, a barely noticeable smile gracing his expression.

Emily spotted her next. Before she could stop herself, Emily’s breath caught in her throat and she gasped. JJ had left her speechless for the second time that day. Her gaze passed over every part of JJ’s outfit. She felt her face get hot and Emily shoved her hands in her pockets. By that point, JJ and Penelope had joined the group at their table but Emily had yet to say a word.

“Wow, Jen, you look amazing. That leather jacket is perfect. It’s a very hot look, but also very you.” Emily couldn’t help her awkwardness but the compliments just kept going. She couldn’t find a way to stop herself.

JJ's thoughts staggered with the compliments but she was able to thank Emily. Penelope simply watched the entire interaction with a smirk plastered on her face. After that, the alcohol took no time in arriving at their tables. They all downed those drinks quickly and went after another round. After a couple rounds, JJ pulled Emily out to the dance floor. They let the music take them over, relinquishing their thoughts to the rhythm on the dance floor.

They spent an unknown amount of time dancing, not caring about anything besides themselves and dancing. But soon, that magic started to fade and the women returned to their table. Derek was standing at the table’s side, having noticed the way that JJ and Emily stood closer as they drank more alcohol. Having a brilliant idea, he spoke up as JJ and Emily took a bite of the chips they had ordered for the table.

“JJ, Emily, I have an idea. Why don’t we play a little game? You two are the strong ladies of the BAU, including my Babygirl but right now I’m focusing on y’all. How about the two of you arm wrestle? I want to know which of you is stronger.”

“Derek, we’re both drunk. That’s not a fair game, even though we know the winner would be me.” JJ’s body swayed lightly, but Emily quickly stabilized her.

“I’m down. At least, I’m no chicken.” Emily spoke in a teasing tone, stealing a glance at JJ.

“Oh, no you don’t. Okay, let’s do it. I’m in.” JJ nodded enthusiastically, invigorated at the idea of a challenge to beat Emily in.

They cleared the space and let JJ and Emily get ready. Both did their own ridiculous warm ups, obviously exaggerating it. They set their arms down and were ready to begin when JJ stopped.

“Wait. What are the stakes?” Emily responded, saying something that she’d wanted to do for a long time.

“If I lose, I’ll take you out on a date. If you lose, you have to take me out on a date. How’s that sound?”

Her proposition shocked the entire table. They’d all been waiting for JJ and Emily to stop tiptoeing around each other. This was just not how they expected things to unfold, albeit it would make a great story for the future. Sober JJ and Penelope would have a field day with this.

“Deal.” JJ was drunk too, but that was an offer that was too good to pass up.

With that, Derek set the two up to begin the match. It was very evenly matched in the beginning. Neither woman budged, focusing very hard on their end prize. The team’s eyes shifted from JJ to Emily, and back again. Their grip was strong but no progress was being made. By the time that they had hit the 20 minute mark, Emily could feel the fog in her brain begin to clear up.

At that point, she took a closer look at her opponent. She watched the way that JJ’s blue eyes locked onto their hands, checking for even the slightest of hesitations. She saw the way that JJ’s clothes hung on her body, giving her an air of confidence that made JJ infinitely hotter. Finally, Emily looked back up to JJ’s hair. It’s long, straight stands dropped over her forehead and framed her face well. Emily lost herself in the thought of running her fingers through the silky cut.

That was when she felt the cool, hard wood of the table. Emily’s eyes widened and she looked down. There it was. Her hand was pressed against the surface, pinned underneath JJ’s.

“I win! Guess you have to take me out on that date, chicken.” JJ teased Emily, getting closer to the brunette’s face.

“I get to take someone as dashing as you out? Well, I might have lost but this seems like the better prize.

JJ’s heart soared at the compliment. The way that the word ‘dashing’ rolled off of Emily’s lips made her feel ecstatic. It wasn’t like when men called her pretty after buying a drink. This hair really was working wonders.

They ended the night with a kiss before Emily climbed out of the rideshare and walked up the apartment. JJ ran her fingers over her lips as the car pulled away. Best decision ever.

tag list: @ssa-jareaus @coramvobis @altsvu @hotchshoney @morcias @jelle-jareau @dragisthegame @ssakayprentish69 @dimitrescus-bitch @jay-writes-jemily @bridget19 @hmm-wanky @emilyprentissfangirl @tokoblade @temily

#jennifer jareau #prelude to gnc jj #emily prentiss #penelope garcia #derek morgan #cm #bau #jemily #userjemilyology #mc content hours

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jerkbitchidjitassbutt · 3 years

Text

It Was You (Part Four)

A/N: Jensen and Y/n are childhood best friends. When his agent informs him that his image could use some improvement for a role, will she help him? Or will her feelings get in the way?

Read Part one, part two, and part three here (masterlist forthcoming)

A holiday (Christmas centric) Jensen x Female!Reader Best Friends to Lovers series for @spnchristmasbingo. This chapter and others will fill the square of ‘fake dating’. Un-beta’d, so all mistakes are mine. Header created by me with images from Google. Chapter word count: 3446

Series Warnings: cursing, angst-ish at times (if you squint), but mostly all the fluff.

I consider this an AU, as Jensen is single in this fic. This is completely a work of fiction, and I wouldn’t want his reality to be any different, this is purely for entertainment.

Jensen woke to his cell buzzing on his nightstand, reaching blindly to silence the pestering noise. Lying on his back, he quickly peered through one half opened eye to see what all the fuss was about. Seeing it was Stacy, he hit the side button to reject her call, vowing he’d return it after ten more minutes of sleep. As he rested his head back on the pillow, you stretched slightly and rolled to face him as you slept, reminding him of how he’d carried you to his bed last night. You reached for him and pulled yourself under his arm to cuddle against him, throwing a leg over his as he laid on his back. He loved waking up next to you, no matter where it was. You’d shared a bed multiple times in your long friendship and he’d never felt as rested as when you were next to him, even if the vacancy was filled by someone else.

Jensen let his mind wander to what it would be like to wake up to you every morning, to take your friendship and turn it into something more. He would be lying if he said Y/n hadn’t been the first person that came to his mind when Stacy mentioned him settling down, and almost choked on his coffee when she agreed to be his pretend girlfriend. When he was young, he’d always just seen you as his best friend, but when he left for L.A. after his eighteenth birthday, the absence made him realize how much he’d loved you for so many years. It was a fondness that grew out of the shared intimacy and a longing bloomed within him, and it was no secret to him why it hadn’t worked out with anyone else. They weren’t you – they didn’t laugh like you. They didn’t touch him like you. They didn’t care for him in the way you did.

Since you’d moved to Vancouver, each time he’d get the nerve to bring his feelings up to you, you’d either be seeing someone or mention once again how much you valued his friendship. There were moments when he thought you may feel something for him to, between the lingering touches and occasional yearning gaze. When the time came, though, he’d always let his fears of losing you get in the way.

As you moved against him, trying to get closer to him in your dreaming slumber, his grip tightened around you to bring you to the spot no one else could seem to fill. You threw an arm around his waist and nuzzled into the crook of his neck, your warmth seeping through him as your breath fanned across the tender skin. Jensen buried his face in your hair, inhaling a mixture of you and the floral scent of your shampoo, content to savor the moment where he could pretend that it was real, that maybe you wouldn’t scurry away when you woke to find yourself there.

You began to stir, breathing deeply and opening your eyes. You pushed against him slightly, just enough to peer up at him through your lashes.

“Morning, sweetheart.” Jensen whispered, searching your eyes for a long moment. He could have sworn he saw it, that fleeting passion that he could have sworn was intended for him. His eyes flitted to your lips, plush and full and slightly agape. It would be a dream to mold his mouth to yours and feel you let go. Your skin would feel like silk beneath his fingertips and he would savor every touch.

You seemed to study him, almost searching your brain for some sort of recognition.

You were in a blissful fantasy before you woke, wrapped in Jensen’s arms as he pinned you beneath him, nipping and licking at the exposed skin of your neck. In your hazed mind, you could still feel his delicious weight on top of you as he ground against you, and the burn of his scruff still tingled across your chest as he kissed down your body. His touch still ghosted across your skin but left no trace as your eyes opened slowly to be met with his emerald ones. It took your foggy, drowsy mind a moment to realize that you were no longer dreaming, but the fire in your core was still lit ablaze.

His eyes were filled with fondness as he looked down at you. Finding yourself in his arms as you woke still felt like a dream as your heartbeat rapidly sounded in your chest, until he began drawing patterns on your upper arm with his thumb. Your head rested against the swell of his shoulder and you could feel his stomach rising and falling with breath beneath your arm. He shifted a bit and you realized that your leg was tangled with his as your hips and body angled towards him.

“Y/n? You okay?” Jensen breathed, flitting his eyes between your eyes and lips as you stared at him, still playing catchup in your brain. He sucked in a breath when you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, still silently searching his features. He could do it – he could kiss you. He could feel every curve in his hands and feel every breath if he took the chance, and the way you were looking at him, eyes darkened with want, he began to lean forward, slowly and tentatively.

Jensen’s tongue ran across his plump lips and continued to trace small circles on your exposed skin before moving his hand to your hair. This wasn’t for show, and the weight of the intimacy bared down on you as he moved towards you, aiming for your lips.

As soon as your eyes fluttered closed, Jensen’s phone began to ring. His eyes snapped open with annoyance as he stared into yours. He didn’t want to pick up – whoever it was could go to hell right now, but when you smiled and told him to, he sighed heavily and grabbed his cell, seeing that it was Stacy once again.

She could usually take a hint, so this must’ve been important. Jensen gave you a sympathetic smile and pressed the button to answer.

“Hello?”

“Jensen? Good morning, it’s Stacy.”

“Yeah, how are you?”

“I’m great. Have you gotten the chance to check social media this morning? There’s some great stuff floating around about you and Y/n already. Apparently some paps got some photos of you two in town yesterday so gossip is buzzing.”

“Oh, that’s… good?”

“It sure is!” Stacy exclaimed, which you could hear from your spot, still tucked beneath Jensen’s shoulder as his grip on you never loosened. “Great job, you two. This is going well already. Keep up the social media stuff, but I wanted to warn you before you guys headed to the airport that there would probably some cameras around.”

Jensen’s eyes went wide, “The airport… right.”

“Yeah, I wanted to catch you before you got in. Are you about to leave? Your flight is in 3 hours.”

He snapped his head to face you as you realized what that meant, looking at him with a panicked expression. You needed to get your ass up and go.

“We’re about to leave soon. Cliff should be here in, uh,” Fuck, it’s 9:00. “20 minutes to get us.” He said, more to you than Stacy as he grabbed his watch from his nightstand when you rolled off of him.

“Alright, well you guys have a safe trip. I’ll be in touch soon!” her chipper voice echoed through his receiver before it clicked and ended the call. You were dashing around the room, gathering your sweater, shoes, keys, and phone before you had to run to your apartment to change and grab your packed suitcase, allowing Jensen to do the same. As you made your way to the door, Jensen called to you, still in his pajama pants and tight v-neck with his hair was gloriously tousled.

“We’ll continue this later?” He proposed, his voice deep and smooth.

You paused in the doorframe to respond, arms laden with your belongings. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and grinned, “I’d like that.”

He sighed a breath of relief through his smile before rushing to the adjacent bathroom to take a quick shower.

It was December 22nd, and the airport was going to be insanely packed, but between Jensen’s security needs and first-class tickets for the two of you to Austin, you were able to get priority registration and pre-checks.

You hurried quickly to your apartment, pausing momentarily when you shut your door to run your fingertips through your hair and calm your swirling thoughts. There was no question that he was going to kiss you, at least from your perspective. Could this really be happening? With a smile and a pounding heart, you ran to your bathroom to brush your teeth, freshen up, and change, opting for black leggings and a thick shawl. You threw some last-minute items in your makeup bag and slung it over your waiting suitcase, grabbing your scarf, sunglasses, and purse and you were ready to meet Jensen outside.

Cliff and Jensen met you at the waiting SUV and loaded your luggage into the trunk, Jensen sliding in beside you in the back seat. It was a short ride to the airport and was mostly spent with Cliff briefing Jensen of the security protocols he would be taking once you arrived. He was already prepared for the possibility of paparazzi being present and would be sure you had a clear path to the entrance.

With about five minutes until you arrived, Jensen leaned in to whisper, “Would you be alright with holding my hand? You know, when we go in? F-for the cameras?” he asked, his eyes hopeful and nervous.

Your smile faltered as he said the last bit, worried that maybe the arrangement was still at the forefront of his mind. Until he added, “Or, if you just wanted to.”

His features softened as the smile returned to your face and you agreed. “I mean, ya know… I’d be alright with it.” He said in a teasing fashion, puffing his chest as you giggled. Sliding his hand across the leather seat, he brushed his fingers across yours before entwining a few. Your cheeks began to tingle and your heart swelled within your chest, a feeling present that you’d never experienced before.

Jensen couldn’t get the image of you from this morning out of his head. Each time he closed his eyes, he saw you beneath him, biting your lower lip. It was driving him mad and he was more than sure you were going to kiss him back. Now, though, he was kicking himself for answering that phone call. He was kicking himself for not pulling you into his arms as soon as he hung up.

A short moment later and you were pulling up at the entrance, not entirely surprised to see a few people lingering around the pillars with cameras in their hands. It was a popular spot for folks in their profession, hoping to snap a few shots of celebrities boarding their flights and since the movie and television studios had just recently shut down production for the holidays, their odds increased of getting a good photo to sell.

“You ready?” Jensen asked, squeezing your hand as you stared out towards the building.

Taking a deep breath, you nodded, “Yeah.”

“Hey,” he urged, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Don’t worry, alright? Cliff and I will be right here.”

You gave him a small smile, but deep down it wasn’t only safety you were concerned about. You knew that once photos surfaced of you and Jensen, the rumors would spread fast. Now, though, there would be some truth to them, or so it seemed.

Cliff exited the car and grabbed both yours and Jensen’s suitcase from the trunk before opening the passenger’s side rear door, allowing Jensen to step out. As soon as he did, loud clicks and a whirl of footsteps could be heard, with people surrounding the vehicle quickly. Cliff stood like an intimidating brick wall and bellowed at them, which made a few of them move back a few steps.

When Jensen turned and offered his hand, you put your sunglasses on and grabbed your bag, hearing the furry of camera shutters increase rapidly. Clearly, they were very interested in who Jensen was bringing with him.

You slid across the seat and took his extended hand in yours. When he helped you shuffle out of the vehicle, he laced a few of his fingers loosely with yours once again and made his way through the crowd of shouts and flashing lights, each of you pulling your suitcases as Cliff led the way. One reporter asked Jensen who his guest was, which made you laugh a bit. Another asked where you were headed, but those were the only few that you could make out in the chorus of questions. He waved graciously as he pushed passed them, continuously checking beside him to make sure you were alright. Jensen’s hand tightened around yours and he looked at you through his darkened glasses, giving you a grin. When you returned his smile, you realized that it may be for show, but he never dropped your hand even after the cameras were behind you.

Cliff said his goodbyes when he ensured that you made it safely to the TSA pre-check. He would be heading home soon also, but his flight was a red eye that night so he would have time to pack himself. He gave you a fleeting, knowing look as his eyes casted down to yours and Jensen’s entwined hands, the tiniest smile adorning his lips.

After going through the security check, you and Jensen explored the shops at the airport and grabbed a coffee before taking a seat at your gate with fifteen minutes to spare before they began boarding. A few fans approached him and asked for an autograph or photo and he was polite and chatted with each of them as you smiled from the sidelines. He was always so gracious with the people he met, and it made you a bit proud. It was just another way that he’d proven to stay true to who he was even now that he was recognized almost everywhere he went. It had taken a bit of getting used to when it began and now his fans were calling you by name. When he and Jared were together, there was no stopping the barrage of passersby.

The few people gave you a wave as you sat next to him and you offered to take their photo for them before they ran to their own flights that were departing soon.

Jensen beamed as he waved them goodbye before turning to you, “You know, I’m not sure I’ll ever get over that.”

Laughing, you commented, “Well, I can’t blame them. They get excited seeing you in the ‘wild’.” You joked.

He sat back and stifled a yawn before taking a sip of his coffee, “You okay? Are you tired?” you questioned.

“Oh, yeah. I’m good. I’ll be fine once we get on the plane.”

“Yeah, I know. You’ll be asleep before we reach the end of the tarmac.”

You were jealous of his ability to sleep on planes, but since he began traveling so much he learned to get some shut eye where he could and now the whirl of the jet engines was a lullaby to him, almost putting him to sleep instantly.

“Well, if you snuggle with me, I’ll be a goner, for sure.”

He gave you a suggestive look and wiggled his eyebrows. Before you could respond, the attendant began to call rows for boarding, meaning you and Jensen were some of the first needed to get in line.

He stowed both of your bags in the compartments when you found your seats, opting to give you the window and asking for an extra pillow or two from the attendant. When you sat, Jensen leaned in to whisper in your ear, “Two o’clock.”

You turned to view what he was talking about, knowing that he was signaling you to look in a specific direction. Sure enough, in the row directly behind you to the left, there was someone with a phone pointed in your direction, seemingly hoping to get a photo of Jensen. This meant the two of you couldn’t necessarily talk freely during the flight, especially about what happened that morning, as many people were in earshot.

Giving you a small smile, he reached for your hand after he’d buckled in, clasping it in his as the plane roared down the freeway and took off towards Austin.

Sure enough, Jensen fell asleep against your shoulder about a half an hour into the flight, so you quietly ordered a drink and a snack and caught up on some Netflix on your phone, gently plugging your headphones in your ears so that you wouldn’t wake him.

You were lucky to have a direct flight into Austin, and Jensen woke up about an hour before you landed. You laughed and chatted about random things, just passing the time until the wheels touched down. He held your hand once again as you exited the airport, his fingers searching out yours expectantly and gripping them tight. He began to scan the crowd for Jared, who smiled widely and waved frantically when he caught sight of you as he towered above everyone else in his surroundings.

As he drove you through the streets of Austin to his home, he caught you up on the details of the party tonight, “Gen decided she wanted to do an ugly Christmas sweater themed party, so she grabbed you both one to wear. Don’t blame me, she and the boys picked them out.”

“Oh goodness…” you commented. “I hope Gen looked out for me a little.”

Jared threw his head back in laughter as Jensen looked at you from the passenger’s seat, turning his head to shoot you a look of yeah right as you sat in the back.

You were met with hugs from the Gen and the littlest Padaleckis as soon as the car pulled in the driveway and Tom whisked you away to show you the drawings he’d made for you and Uncle Jensen.

“Hi to you too!” Jensen shouted as they ran inside, pulling you by your hands to follow as you turned to stick your tongue out at him. They loved him, truly, but he was all but forgotten when you were there with him. He waved you off and rounded the car to grab your bags, Jared popping the trunk and helping.

Jared clicked his tongue and pressed, “So… Things are… different?”

“What do you mean, man?” Jensen retorted, feigning innocence.

“You and Y/n. There’s something there that wasn’t there before.”

Jensen sighed, but couldn’t help the smile that bloomed against his cheeks as he ran his hand along the scruff of his jaw.

“Or,” Jared interjected. “Or maybe it’s something that’s always been there?”

Jensen looked at his best friend with a bit of worry in his eyes, feeling as though he’d just been caught. Jared had always known how much you cared about each other and had his suspicions that you each had more feelings than you were letting on, but Jensen had never confessed it to him in all the years he’d known him. It was the one thing they didn’t share, partially because Jensen knew he’d never hear the end of it and Jared would try some sort of scheme to get them together. If it happened, he wanted it to happen organically, not because of the meddling of his 6’4 goofy-puppy co-star. The truth was, though, Jensen was still afraid of ruining your friendship. He never wanted to lose you, ever.

Jared noticed the energy his friend was giving off and tried to offer him a bit of solace, “Hey, man. Not to worry. You two have always been together, just not together. This may have started as an arrangement, but maybe it’s just the open door you both need to explore your feelings? Maybe this is the way you two stop dancing around each other. Maybe this is the push you needed.” He clasped his hand on Jensen’s shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile, his lips curling on one side before he shut the door to the garage.

Jensen thought about his friend’s words, a new sense of courage blossoming within him and making his heart stammer and swell.

“Yeah, maybe.”

To be continued...

…………………………………………………………………………………………

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It was you

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Jensen Only

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house-of-galathynius · 3 years

Text

Only You ~ Rowaelin

A Rowaelin fanfic, set if Aelin’s parents had lived and she had met Rowan under normal circumstances, if Erawan and Maeve weren’t threats. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter Three ~ Chapter Five

Chapter Four: Chances

Aelin had sat on her bed thinking of only Rowan. She had tried and failed to read a book, as well as braid her hair and even as far as trying to brush Fleetfoot's coat. But no matter what she did, her mind wandered back to the Fae prince who was her soul-bonded.

Her maids had knocked on the door an hour ago to dress her for dinner. She had wanted to form an excuse as to why she could not go, but nothing came to mind. And she was sure Aedion or Orlon, or both would come up here and drag her down either way. So she put on her finest gown and let the maids put her hair into a pretty updo and place the tiara on her head. And when she looked in the mirror she balked. Aelin knew she was pretty, as she’d been told by many suitors. But when she gazed at her reflection she really felt pretty. Her cheeks had a rosy glow to them and her eyes were bright. She felt good.

The maids had let her stare in the mirror a few seconds longer before they ushered her away and down to the dining hall. Elspeth giving her a wink as she departed.

Aedion was at the door when she arrived, looking handsome in all his finery. He seemed to think the same as he grabbed her hand and spun her around before grinning. “You look… you look like a princess.”

“Don’t you start.” She rolled her eyes.

“I look forward to hearing all about it later. The maids in the kitchen wouldn’t shut up about it.”

“What were you doing in the kitchen? Terrorising the cooks again?” She elbowed his side.

“I haven’t done that since I was ten.” He elbowed her right back. “I was doing a favour for a friend.”

“Oh, you mean you were doing whatever you could to get into Lysandra’s good graces? Honestly Aedion, you’d have an easier time winning Ren over than you do Lys.”

“Very funny Aelin. Should I bring up all your successful relationships? Shall we talk about the mating bond now or later?” That lions grin crept up his face and Aelin didn’t know whether to start a brawl or to laugh along with him.

“Careful Aedion, she could easily take you in a fight.” Her father stopped behind her, laughing quietly at their bickering.

“Not without her flame she couldn’t.” Another grin.

“Settle down you two. We do have company. I don’t think they want to see the two of you bickering all night.” Her mothers words silenced them. Aelin poked her tongue out at Aedion as he poked her side, both of them earning stern looks from her parents.

When they entered the hall Orlon had already been seated at the head of the table, Sellene at the other end. Dispersed along the table were a mixture of Whitethorn family members and spouses, along with members of the Terrasen royal family. Servers were showing everyone to their seats, but even so, Aelin made her way to the usual spot she took at functions such as these, when the server intercepted her before she could sit.

“Your Highness, you will be seated here tonight.” She looked to the chair that had been pulled out for her and cringed. Sat in the chair to the left was Rowan. She glanced to Orlon who was actively avoiding eye contact, but she knew that he had been the one behind this little rearrangement.

Despite her disapproval, Aelin sat and smoothed her dress as she did. Moments went by with silence, people around her chattering away. She tried and failed to meet the eyes or Orlon, instead she had the pleasure of Aedion laughing at her expense. She wasn’t going to give Aedion the upper hand tonight, so she decided to suck it up and turn to Rowan.

“You clean up nicely.” As if he had not been dressed to the nines the first time she met him.

“As do you, princess.”

Silence.

“Did you find your way to your rooms? The castle can be… large.”

Since when had she become such a bumbling fool?

“I did. I also had the chance to inspect the training facilities.”

“Oh? And were they to your liking?”

“They’re adequate. If you would be up to it we could use them tomorrow?” She hadn’t lied when she had told him she had never trained with anyone before. The only person had been her instructor, who had never really trained with her, more like watched and criticised. Her flame was more a party trick than anything, she wasn’t sure it would be that impressive using it in front of Rowan. But despite her reservations about the mating bond and him, she still agreed.

Dinner went smoothly, their conversation remained strictly polite; talking about the food, the wine, the dessert. All too soon it was over and Aelin was thankful to be excused.

She returned to her room and jumped at the sight of someone on her bed. Her flame immediately sprung from her fingers and she edged closer, only to sigh in relief when she saw Sam.

Sam?

“What the hell are you doing in here?” She quickly shut the door and lit the few candles and fireplace.

“I needed to see you. Lysandra said you weren’t going to be able to see me for a few weeks… so I asked her to help me here.”

“If someone catches you…”

“I know, but I had to see you.”

She stepped out of the slippers she wore and undid her hair letting it fall down her back.

“You can’t be here Sam. I’m serious.”

“I’ve never seen you dressed liked that. You look royal.” He smirked.

“That’s because I am royal you fool.” She threw a cushion at him and then collapsed onto the sofa. “What is it Sam, that couldn’t wait until I came to you?”

“I wanted to know if you’d thought my offer over again? I’ve found someone who will take over the library. And there’s a ship leaving for the Southern Continent in four weeks. It’s enough time to sort everything out, for you to—“

“I can’t, Sam.”

He stopped where he had been pacing by the fire. “You… can’t?”

Aelin’s body went hot and her pulse quickened. She loved Sam, but when she looked at him… there was no buzz. No spark. Not like what she had felt with Rowan. And she knew that was because of the mating bond… but it still meant something. Hadn’t she always known it was never going to be forever with Sam? Hadn’t her parents said the same thing to her?

“I want to run away with you. Or I did… last night. But what would happen in sixty years? When you’re ageing and I’m still what I am now. What happens when you’re gone? I can’t come crawling back asking for the throne. Not after abandoning it like that. I have responsibilities, you know this.” She stood now. “My life is here Sam, it will be forever.” She turned to face him fully. “I love you, but my answer is no.” She choked on the last words.

He stood there, staring into the flames. Neither of them said a word, the only sound came from the crackling of logs.

Sam finally turned to her. “I had really hoped that you would give it all up. That what you told me about wanting to be free, wanting to live your own life, was true. That you would realise that your love for me was stronger than your love for this.” He gestured to the room, the palace, Terrasen. “I would give up everything for you Aelin. I would lose everything if it meant we could be together.”

She was crying now.

“And deep down, I thought maybe you would give up your immortality. Give up that side of you so we could have a normal life together.” Sam wiped tears from his own face, but still she said nothing. “I was never going to be good enough, was I?”

Her heart cracked at his words. “You are enough Sam. But my country, my kingdom… it will always come first.”

“Does the fact I would give it all up mean nothing to you?”

“Of course it does! But I never asked you to do that. I told you from the beginning this would be temporary. We would continue as long as we could, but one day I would have to step up and be the person I have to be. For my kingdom, for my family… and for me.”

He slid his hands down his face, despair in his eyes. “I should have known better.”

“What’s that even supposed to mean?” She was angry now.

“It means that I was right when I first met you. You are spoiled and selfish and only care for yourself. Maybe it’s a good thing it’s ending now. I’ll save myself the pain in the future.”

His words stung. Sam had been angry at her before, but he had never been cruel. A knock at the door had them both freezing.

“Aelin? Is everything okay?” Rowan. What was he doing here?

“Everything is fine.” Sam was staring at her, then at the door, trying to put it together. She didn’t take her eyes of Sam, he stared right back. Neither of them said a word until Sam gave a slight shake of his head and made off through the balcony doors and out into the night. She didn’t look away even as Rowan knocked at the door once more.

“You might as well come in.” She sighed.

The door creaked open, slowly at first, and then wider as he let himself in. Rowan left the door ajar, letting her know he had good intentions, whatever they were.

“What are you doing here?” She glanced once more at the balcony doors, sure that Sam was far enough away.

“I could... smell something was wrong.”

Right. The Fae senses.

“It’s nothing, just a sad book.”

“I’d believe that if it wasn’t just you I could scent.”

He could smell Sam.

“Rowan…”

“I have no claim over you, so what you do is none of my business. But I had to check you weren’t in danger.” Her heart panged in her chest, warmth spreading at his protectiveness. She returned to the sofa and motioned for Rowan to join her. She beckoned the guard outside and requested tea for them both. She could see Rowan’s hesitation as he debated whether this was a good idea.

“The door will remain open, no funny business, don’t worry.” She gave him her signature grin and he relaxed as he came to sit next to her. They had been closer at dinner, but the intimacy of them both being in her room… it was new and strange to her. Sam had never been in here.

“Was the male…” He trailed off.

“He’s my… was my—“ she cringed at the next words. “Was my lover.”

He flinched at the word, she felt his jealousy even if he did not fully show it.

“You’re not planning on courting me for these few weeks just to reject me?”

“That was not what I was planning on doing.” Aelin continued. “To be honest, I didn’t know what I was planning to do. I’ve never been in this situation before.” She picked some lint from her skirts.

“You loved him?”

She gave a small nod. “He asked me leave with him, to runaway. Head to the Southern Continent, to build a life there. I didn’t give him an answer, so he came here to get one.” She didn’t dare look Rowan in the eyes. “I told him I couldn’t do it, and he said some things… and then he left.”

“Did he hurt you?” A guttural growl.

“No! Not physically. He would never hurt me. He’s just upset that I said no, that’s all.”

Aelin’s own voice was low, sad. The maid entered the room carrying a tray of tea and sweets, she placed it on the low table in front of them and gave a small curtsey before scurrying away.

“Do they always look terrified around you?” He picked up a cup and poured some of the herbal tea in.

“They do not look terrified!” She swatted his arm. “My maids love me, I let them eat sweets with me and I always give them gifts on holidays.”

Rowan’s eyes glittered with laughter, his body relaxing into the sofa. “Well, she looked like she couldn’t get away fast enough.”

“If she looked terrified it’s because you’re in here looking grumpy.” Rowan barked a laugh and Aelin could’ve sworn it was one of the loveliest sounds she had ever heard.

Rowan stayed for another two cups of tea and then politely excused himself, but promising Aelin that he would see her tomorrow for training.

She went to sleep that night, not thinking of her fight with Sam, and the way that they had ended; but of Rowan and those pine green eyes.

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comfyswitcherblanketfort · 4 years

Note

Just here to quietly plead for a Geralt x Y/N /fem Y/N fic where Y/N gets kidnapped (did I do that right?).

You know the drill 😳❤️ Angst. Feels. Comfort and maybe love confessions at the end.

oooooo baby, we went back to our roots on this one. we got some big hurt and some even bigger comfort. hope you like it! 💖

“I might never let you go”

Warnings: canon consistent violence, torture/interrogation, choking, kicking, slapping, agressive use of the term ‘bitch’, beheading, death, overall angsty pain, softness to wrap it up tho

__________

“Even if I had anything to tell you, you’d just kill me afterward. Why would I bother?” you spat the blood from your busted lip at the boots of your captor, giving him a smug red grin just to piss him off even more. You had everything he wanted, no doubt about it. You could make his dreams come true, but you’d certainly rather die than let him find Ciri and Geralt.

He wrinkled his nose at your blood now all over his shiny black boots, “Normally yes. I would kill you-”

“I have nothing for you anyway.” you reminded him, earning you another backhand, this time to the other side of your face.

You grit your teeth and glared back up at him in a challenge.

There was an instant of warning, just barely enough time for you to take a deep gulp of air before his hand was at your throat, lifting you off your knees, “You and your witcher playing happy little family has been a pain in my ass for far too long! I want you to watch me kill her after you betray them!"

You wanted to roll your eyes, maybe tell him ‘I fucking wish’ or ‘I didn’t ask for a spit bath’ and pat his hand condescendingly, but he slammed you back against the cellar wall and suddenly you saw two of him. You lashed out with your legs, but with your ankle chained to the middle of the floor and the links pulled tight you could barely move. He laughed, something in his eyes told you he liked this too much, that this wasn’t simply his duty. In a last-ditch effort you clawed at one of his eyes, barely registering the blood you drew as he dropped you to the floor. You sputtered and coughed, willing your lungs to function normally at least until you found a way out as you struggled to all fours.

“Fucking- little- bitch!” Every word was punctuated with a kick, every kick had you heaving and gasping for breath.

You curled in on yourself, bringing your knees up to your chest to shield yourself from the blows threatening to tear your lungs in half. Covering your face with your arms you focused on breathing, on just getting through his fit of rage.

He paused, growling when there was a knock at the door, “Fuck off. I’m under orders, this time.”

The person knocked again and he stomped across the room. You risked a peek at what might be coming for you just as a sword slashed through the man’s neck, sending his head bouncing across the stone floor as his body crumpled on top of it.

Geralt stood in the doorway, covered in what you hoped was Nilfguardian blood, looking panicked. As soon as he spotted you he rushed to your side, caressing your face before reaching to the beheaded body and snagging a set of keys.

“Can you stand?” He sounded terrified, something you’d never heard from him before.

“Maybe.” You wheezed, sitting up so he could have a better angle at unlocking you.

When he’d freed you and hauled you to your feet he handed you his sword, “Keep close. I didn’t make too much noise on the way in but they might get worried when they don't hear any screaming.” He held your head in both hands, rubbing tears from your cheeks that you didn’t know you’d shed, “You can do this.”

You nodded, biting the unsplit part of your lower lip to stifle the whimpers clawing at your throat. He grabbed your non-dominant hand and led the way out of your cell, unsheathing his silver sword. Fitting really, for what they’d done to you, these men should be treated as monsters.

You made it to the wall of the stronghold with no incident unless you counted passing dead and dying guards as an incident. Geralt had wreaked havoc on his way in, enough to make you worry about what had happened in your absence. He turned and gripped your hips, almost throwing you up on top of the stone wall before he vaulted it himself.

“Fall, I’ll catch you.”

Even in your predicament, those words made your heart flutter, “but, the swo-”

“Hurry.” Geralt growled and you obeyed immediately. True to his word, he caught you, but he didn’t set you down to continue. He held you to his chest and guided your legs to wrap around his waist before he took off at a sprint into the woods. You clung to him with every bit of strength you had left, burying your face in his neck and doing your best not to cry. You’d stayed strong for days, took every beating and threat in stride, and it was all surfacing now that he was there to protect you.

Eventually, he slowed to a walk, resting his hand on your hair as the last of your willpower dissolved into more tears.

“Shhhh… it’s okay. You did so well. You’re so strong.” you sobbed in his arms as he whispered soft, calming words in your ear. He sat down on a fallen tree and leaned back, signaling for you to do the same.

His brows were drawn together but his eyes were soft, examining every last cut and bruise on your face, “Can you take a couple deep breaths for me?”

You nodded, closing your eyes and doing your best to steady and lengthen your breaths. Your throat ached and your ribs protested angrily, but you managed to get three solid inhales and exhales in a row.

“Good, just breathe.” his fingers brushed your wild hair out of your eyes, taking your chin gently between his thumb and forefinger and tilting your head to the side.

“I didn’t tell them anything. I promise.” your voice was hoarse and watery.

Geralt rested his palm against your cheek, “ Y/N, look at me.”

You forced your eyes open, readying for him to ask if Cirilla was safe; if they could ever be safe again after what you’d undoubtedly told them.

The sincerity in his eyes and voice would have brought tears to your eyes had they not already been there, “There was never a doubt in my mind that you would die before telling them anything. Just breathe. You’re safe now.”

You nodded, taking a slow breath in and whispering, “Thank you…”

Something new flashed in his eyes, his pupils growing just a tad larger, something you wouldn't have noticed if you weren't three inches from his face, “I thought they’d taken you from me.”

Your look of confusion spurred him on, “They spread word you’d died.” His voice was thick and low and you suddenly felt the need to comfort him.

Placing both your hands on his jaw you gave him a tired smile, “I’m fine. Shaky and bruised, but fine.” you insisted.

Geralt leaned forward just enough to press his forehead to yours, closing his eyes and humming like he didn’t quite believe you. Your heart skipped a beat, the intimacy of your position finally catching up with you as you let a small breathy giggle escape your lips.

“What?”

“I’m sitting on your lap in the middle of a forest. Feels a bit strange,” you muttered, running your thumbs across his stubble.

If you hadn’t had your hands on his jaw you wouldn’t have realized what was happening when he closed the distance between your lips. The cut on your lip stung at first but the buzzing in your ears and thundering of your heart pushed the sensation to the back of your mind.

He was warm and soft and ever so gentle, letting your lips brush against each other as he pulled back, “I love you. Don’t you ever leave me again.”

You rushed forward, holding him to you like he was your lifeline, because when you thought about it he really was, “I love you too,” you gasped when you finally needed to come up for air. His hand that was wrapped around your waist traveled up your back, pulling your closer to him in another kiss, but this time you yelped.

“Ribs.” you groaned, tapping the shoulder of his offending arm.

“Shit.”

“It’s okay. It’s fine.” You reassured him, kissing between his brows where his worry line had reappeared, “Maybe just let me lead.” you smirked at him, noting the way his pupils dilated.

“As long as I get to kiss you again.”

“Oh I might never let you go, now.” you kissed him again, this time running your tongue along his bottom lip.

“Good.” he breathed, before firmly pressing his lips to yours and deepening the kiss.

#the witcher #the witcher fic #geralt of rivia #geralt #geralt of rivia fic #geralt of rivia fan fic #geralt fic #geralt x reader #geralt x reader hurt/comfort #the witcher hurt/comfort fic #the witcher hurt comfort fic #geralt hurt comfort fic #geralt of rivia x reader #oof #that felt good tbh #its been a MINUTE since ive done a hurt comfort this angsty

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robertsheehanownsmyass · 3 years

Note

heyy!! can i request a klaus x reader smutty fic please 👀👀 thank you!

The End Justifies the Means

Klaus Hargreeves x Fem!Reader Klaus surprises reader with a steamy hike in Brazil. Little funny, a LOT smutty, a little cute. Rated M

Holy hell, were all the bugs the size of airplanes in this place?

Another insect buzzed in your ear, and you swatted it away in irritation. “Fuck,” you panted. “I swear, if another pterodactyl tries to eat my face, I’m going to scream.”

You could hear Klaus chuckle even though he was several paces ahead of you. “This is called ‘broadening one’s horizons’ darling.” He paused and looked back at you; his short curls only just beginning to wilt around the edges from the sweat that was starting to appear at his hairline and neck. “And I thought you were the adventurous type.” He flashed you one of his trademarked grins, and you scowled.

“I’m all for adventure, but this…is…ridiculous…” you swatted another bug. It seemed the more you perspired, the more insects swarmed you. “How much longer is it?”

“Oh, quit complaining,” he sighed. “It won’t be much farther, and this little hike came very highly recommended.”

You sighed and steeled yourself. Yes, you were born and raised in the city. That didn’t mean you were completely oblivious to the great outdoors, which you loved. You had been on plenty of hiking and camping trips. But this was Brazil; it was an entirely different ballgame. First of all; the heat was insane. It wasn’t so bad when you were lounging on the beach by the ocean, sipping a cold beer or a frozen cocktail. But out here in the rainforest, with the humidity slowly evaporating your energy and those god forsaken insects trying to suck your blood, it left something to be desired.

“Klaus,” you called out, trying to diminish the irritation in your voice. He was, after all, clearly having the time of his life. As uncomfortable as you were, you didn’t want to ruin that for him. He paused again, and looked back at you. “Can I have a swig from that canteen of yours?” He smiled and backtracked the short distance to where you were standing. You had a small moment to reflect on how out of balance the two of you were just then; he with the backpack and the air of the adventurer, and your sorry-self with the ridiculous bandanna wrapped around the top of your head to help keep the sweat and insects at bay– flushed and sweating buckets.

“Ah, thank you,” you smiled at him gratefully, as you gulped the cool water. You fixed him with a playful glare. “This better be worth it, mister.”

He smirked at you. “I think you’ll be pleased.” He turned and started to walk again, calling over his shoulder, “we won’t get there if we keep stopping. Hurry up!”

You bit off a few internal expletives and soldiered on. You were on a small trail in what could easily be described as pure jungle, about two miles from your hotel. You took this trip because you had so desperately needed time away. Both of you had been run completely ragged with the complications your lives entailed. Once there were no more proverbial fires to extinguish, the two of you had agreed to clear two weeks just for yourselves, and here you were. A romantic getaway in Rio de Janeiro; sipping rum drinks and getting massages and shagging on 800 thread-count sheets. So why were you huffing and puffing through the jungle? Well, Klaus was excited about it, so you agreed. After all, who could refuse Klaus when he was excited about something?

You walked and sweated and made your best effort; doing your best not to trip over any roots. After about another twenty minutes, just when you were about to ask for some more water, Klaus stopped abruptly, holding up his hand to signal for you to wait. He trotted forward a few paces as if to check on something, and then quickly doubled back to you, smiling.

“It’s just up ahead,” he grinned, taking your hand. The two of you walked a short distance and around a small bend in the trail. When you rounded the corner, you were completely stunned by the sight before you.

Before you stood the most beautiful waterfall you had ever seen. It wasn’t particularly large, but what made it so breathtaking was the intimacy of the place. The waterfall fell perhaps fifty feet at most, but was surrounded by vines, rocks, and incredibly lovely flowers. The pool at its base was a nearly perfect basin, and everything about it was lush, vibrant, and yours. The place was quite literally, all yours. For the entire two plus miles you had walked, you didn’t see another person.

You felt Klaus’s arm around you and looked up at him. He was positively glowing with pride, looking down at you. “Do you like it?”

“Oh Klaus,” you said. “Klaus, I just– I’m sorry I whined so much on the way over. This was worth it…this is amazing.”

He grinned, and wrapped his arms around you. “I so hoped you would like it. I wanted to take you someplace really special. Not a restaurant or anything; someplace really amazing. So I asked the best guy I could think of– the bartender at the hotel.”

You laughed. “Well of course they would know all the best places.”

He laughed with you. “Yes! Not only that, but he assured me that nobody would bother us if we came back here today. So…here we are.”

You looked back at the incredible vista before you, then back up to his angelic, hopeful face. “You did well, Klaus. I feel like an ass for complaining so much on the way here.”

He stepped back a few paces, unshouldering his pack. He let it fall to the ground with a soft thump. His eyes gleamed as he looked at you. “I figured you wouldn’t like the means, “he smirked at you, “but I hoped the end would make it all worthwhile.”

You felt a flush wash over you. “Whatever do you mean, Klaus?” you smirked playfully back at him.

He stepped toward you, wrapping his arms around you again. “Darling, doesn’t the end usually justify the means?”

Before you could answer, his lips were on yours, catching you off guard. You grabbed the back of his head and answered his kiss, pressing your lips into his forcefully. You opened your mouths to each other, and your tongues danced and probed, gaining passion.

Before the moment could get any more heated, he broke off, suddenly.

“Not yet, love. Let’s refresh ourselves. Fancy a dip?” He cocked his right eyebrow at you questioningly. You smiled, all the blood rushing to your extremities.

“Well, as it happens, I am awfully hot…” you smiled knowingly at him. You stepped back and pulled your tank top over your head in one quick motion. You paused, allowing himself to drink you in. He ran his tongue along his lips briefly, and stepped to you, grabbing the waistband of your shorts. You stepped back, smiling impishly.

“Uh uh, you first.” You pointed at his chest. He smiled resignedly and pulled his tee shirt over his head much in the same way you did. You took a moment to appreciate his chiseled form before he resumed his previous ministrations. “Now, my turn.”

He quickly unbuttoned your shorts and unzipped the fly before pushing them down a little roughly. You stepped out of them, revealing nothing but black panties which matched your bra. He reached around you and unhooked your bra with ease. Again, he paused to survey you. He reached one hand up to cup a breast, and kneaded it softly before you stepped back and, more breathlessly this time, said, “nope, you still have too many clothes on.”

He chuckled devilishly and allowed you to grasp the elastic waistband his shorts. Down they went, and he was left in nothing more than leopard print briefs. You took a moment to appreciate his incredibly beautiful form. He was tall and lean like the Adonis of mythology, or better yet—the statue of David; beautiful and perfect. You could see the shape of his cock straining through the relatively thin material of his briefs. Never, ever would you tire of looking at him. And here he was, with you, looking at you the same way.

Fueled by your happiness and desire, you pulled off your panties in one quick tug, and turned toward the waterfall’s pool. “Come on, catch me,” you panted, as you ran toward the edge and dove into the pool. You had only just surfaced when you heard the answering splash. You swam toward the waterfall, grabbing onto a small rock just near the point where the falls connected with the pool. You turned, gasping, laughing, and saw him pop out of the water just in front of you. You laughed again and grabbed his shoulders, and his arms grabbed your waist from under the water. You both laughed as you held each other; completely invigorated by the cool water and the absolute perfection of the moment.

You kissed again, deeply and passionately. You wrapped your legs around his waist and lifted yourself out of the water to give yourself better leverage, and kissed him thoroughly. His tongue probed your lips, and your mouth opened to his. You explored the depths of his mouth with your tongue as his hand gripped the back of your head, fingers tangled in your hair. You enjoyed this passionate exchange for several moments before he broke away and suddenly grabbed you, lifting you from the water.

He moved to the edge and set you on the little rock that you had swum to near the spot where the falls met the pool. As he stood, he was able to rise out of the water in front of you. You looked at him, gasping.

“Tell me how much you want me,” he said, as he spread your legs apart and began to massage your clit. “Tell me.”

“Oh Klaus,” you gasped. “I want you. Don’t stop touching me.”

“Tell me more,” he growled, and he slipped a finger inside you. You were so wet.

“Klaus! Klaus– you’re so hot, and your fingers feel so good,” you moaned.

He inserted another finger, and probed your depths whilst rubbing your clit with his thumb. His mouth was on yours again, and he caught your bottom lip in his teeth, sucking, biting. He hooked his fingers, hitting your inner g-spot, and you cried out. “Klaus, please…”

Your back was arched and your head thrown back in ecstasy, so you were not entirely prepared when you felt his mouth on your sex, replacing his thumb on your clit. You cried out again as he sucked and licked, all while pumping into you with his fingers, driving you into a frenzy. You grabbed fistfulls of his hair as he licked you to a mindblowing climax; wave after wave hitting you as you cried out.

After you subsided, he lifted his head and winked at you. “It’s a good thing we have this place all to ourselves. Did I ever tell you how loud you are?”

“Shut up,” you panted, lying back along the rock wall, the spray of the waterfall enveloping you. He chuckled and began to turn away. You stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Now now, we’re not finished yet, are we?”

You slid off the rock and pushed him up against the rock wall. His cock was standing just above the waterline, at full attention.

“Allow me,” you said, and you bent to the task. He let out a small, “ Oh,” as you put your lips on the head of his cock. You put your other hand at the base of his impressive shaft, massaging up and down as you sucked. You took his length the best you could; his tip bumping the back of your throat before you drew it out again. He moaned as you pulled and sucked, increasing your pace until he was gasping for breath. “Oh my love,” he panted, and you felt his balls twitch as his climax neared. “Oh babe, I’m gonna come…” Before he could, you released his cock from your mouth with an audible pop, and quickly turned and swam off, leaving him standing there in hip deep water; chest heaving.

“Where…where you…” was all he could manage between pants, and you looked back at him, grinning mischievously. “Did you think this game was over? Catch me!” You giggled and submerged, swimming toward the other side of the pool. You came up at the other side, in a place that was covered with vines and other vegetation. You were beginning to contemplate whether you should get out of the water when Klaus was on you, half-laughing and half-growling.

“Got you,” he breathed as he lifted you out onto the edge of the pool. He stood up, matching your height. His eyes glittered as he pushed you back and spread your legs, exposing you. You propped yourself up on your elbows and watched as he gripped the head of his cock and positioned it at your entrance, its lips swollen with arousal. He put your thighs over his shoulders, and turned his head and gave one of them a quick bite. You jumped a little, then giggled. He put his hands on the rocks on either side of your body, and pushed his full length into you. You both gasped as his cock filled you, stretching you, and he withdrew almost completely before shoving himself back in. You forced your head up to look at him as he began thrusting steadily, and his eyes lifted to meet yours. You locked eyes as he pumped; fucking you, rocking your hips, and you cried out in ecstasy. “Klaus, oh god,” Your hips bucked as he slammed you, your skin slapping audibly at the contact. You raked your nails down his back as he pounded into you, and you felt your climax building. “Don’t stop!” You cried, and he thrust again and again and again, your orgasm arriving full-force, blackening your vision. Wave after wave of pleasure overcame you, and he moaned. He tensed up as his own climax hit him, and he spurted his seed into your depths.

He lay on top of you, limbs completely spent. You panted together, and you twined your fingers in his curls. After a short while, you sat up, and cradled his head against your breast, stroking his face.

“Well that was something,” he breathed, and lifted his head to meet your eyes. There was so much tenderness in his expression that you thought your heart would break from the joy of it. He chuckled.

“What are you laughing at?” you said, smiling.

“Didn’t I tell you the end would justify the means?”

@joz-stankovich @spaceclone-mom

#klaus hargreeves x reader #robert sheehan character fic #the umbrella academy fic #love stories event #klaus hargreeves smut

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tinyboxxtink · 3 years

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"Clueless" *Part 2*

I feel bad because I actually have more of this written but if it doesn't end on a cliffhanger, what's the fun in that?

(y'all I can't help but add Tai gifs I'm sorry it's so appropriate 🤣)

Tag List:

@lolliepopsicle

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@wanniiieeee

@milkshqke

@aprildecker-blog

@word-scribbless

@objection-argumentative

@gibbs274

@stars-in-the-skies-world

Part 1

Part 3

---------------------

Rafael walked out onto the massive deck of the house. It housed a giant cabana lined with benches and pillows, complete with a tiki bar. Surprisingly it had not been overtaken by the party...yet.

You followed him into the cabana, where he promptly went behind the bar and fixed himself a scotch.

“What are you drinking?” He asked you.

You didn’t really drink a lot, but you didn’t want to look like a pansy. You racked your brain trying to remember any kind of drink you remembered seeing in movies.

“I’ll have a jack and coke,” You smiled nervously. He nodded and obliged, handing you the drink. You looked at it for a moment; it looked like a normal soda, how bad could that be? You took a big swig.

You were wrong-- it is VERY bad.

You almost choked as the burn of the whiskey fell down your throat, you looked around for napkins or something, praying to God this wasn’t how you were going to die-- trying and failing at impressing the most gorgeous man you’d seen in your life.

“Oh god, honey are you ok?” Rafael grabbed a water bottle and handed it to you. You grabbed it from him and chugged it quickly. Finally after a minute, you could breathe again and fully embrace the humiliation of what had just transpired. You didn’t want to look at him, you must have looked like an idiot choking on a cocktail like a prude. Ariel had taken you to enough parties in college, why hadn’t you practiced this before?

“Yeah I’m fine…” You muttered, staring into the deck floor.

“...Maybe light on the jack?” You could hear the smile in his voice. You looked up to see him holding another coke, with the Jack Daniels bottle in his hand. He ever so lightly splashed some whiskey into the glass and handed it to you. You sipped it this time, barely tasting the alcohol.

“...Thanks,” You smiled nervously, feeling your cheeks burn hotter by the second. Either you were the lightest lightweight on earth, or he made you nervous. You were pretty sure it was both.

“Not much of a drinker, are you?” He kept smiling at you as you shook your head NO.

“...Curiouser and curiouser,” He chuckled as he came back around the bar with his drink and nodded towards the pillowed benches. You followed and sat beside him on one, curling up your knees beside you like a mermaid tail.

“...What is?” You gave him a questionable look, waiting for an insult.

“You and Ariel’s relationship,” He gestured towards the house. “You don’t drink, you don’t party, you’re clearly WAY more intelligent,”

“...I know, she’s so awesome and I’m just--” You started to degrade yourself with a sad smile while pushing strands of hair behind your ear nervously.

“No no no,” He stopped you mid sentence, taking your hand. “Actually I was implying the opposite,”

Now you looked at him in even more confusion.

“I was going to say you’re way too good for her,” He finished with that amazing smile still on his lips.

You felt yourself go light headed; you seriously could not be this sensitive to alcohol, could you? You’d drank before, wine and champagne and what not. Even some jello shots at a few parties, where you couldn’t taste the alcohol at all. THAT was a bad night. But it couldn’t be the alcohol making you feel this way-- it had to be him.

“OH, um--” You snapped your hand back instinctively, any form of social intimacy freaked you out. But you instantly regretted it, missing the feeling of his warm skin on yours. So you fought your neurotic brain and moved it back forward slightly, where your fingers were still touching.

“No, um-- Ariel’s right,” You continued. “She saved me,”

“I highly doubt Ariel’s saved anyone in her life,”

“Hey! That’s my best friend you’re talking about!”

“....Sorry,” He apologized. “I just don’t see what you see, apparently,”

“She has a huge heart, really,” He gave you a skeptical look. “Really!” You insisted.

“Look-- When I got accepted to Harvard, I didn’t know that my scholarship only accounted for the tuition, NOTHING else. So I didn’t-- I hadn’t saved anything for loding,” You sipped your coke as you continued. “So, I begged the housing department for ANY kind of room they could give me, I even offered to sleep in the janitor’s closet!”

A laugh from Rafael caused you to stop talking and look down at the floor, instantly embarrassed again at your sad sack of a life. Instantly Rafael went for your hand again but paused, noting your uneasiness from before.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh at you,” He apologized. No one had ever cared enough to keep apologizing for YOUR lack of self esteem issues, flinching anytime anyone even coughed on you in an aggressive manner.

“No no, it’s fine, I just--” You now placed your hand over his, a feat in your social anxiety ridden brain. “It’s me, it’s not you,” You tried not to stare at your hands touching, but inside you were so proud of yourself and so happy to have his hand touching yours again, it was actually comforting.

“Anyway, um so--” You bit your lip nervously. “So I was just about to-- I don’t even know what, find a homeless shelter or a bridge, I guess,”

Rafael smiled in amusement and chuckled slightly, checking to make sure you weren’t thrown off by it again. You smiled and laughed at the thought of you dragging everything you owned to a bridge on campus to set up camp.

“But Ariel saw me, and took pity on me I guess?” You shrugged. You really weren’t sure of the thought process that went through Ariel’s head that night, you were just so grateful she had been there.

“She asked me if I had a place to stay and I said no, so she told me that she had a suite all to herself and that she really didn’t do well by herself and that she had just been heading to the housing department to ask for a roommate,” You smiled at the memory.

You weren’t entirely sure how true it was at the time, but knowing her as well as you do now, you knew she did NOT do well by herself. She was confident and full of self esteem to everyone else in the public, but when it was just the two of you she seemed almost...sad, most of the time. Like being happy was just the dress she put on to wear in the world.

“....I hadn’t thought about it like that,” Rafael said softly, now slightly regretting how snarky he was towards her most of the time.

“And now I know why,” You gestured towards the house. “That thing about her mom not wanting to ‘deal’ with her, I honestly don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have my parents,”

“Yeah, my mami and abuela are the two most important people in my life,” He nodded in agreement. “And Ariel...well, as far as I know, she’s never had a ‘dad’ stick, and her mom is just…” He paused. “Not really interested in her daughter,” He added with a sad shrug.

“...Your dad didn’t stick either? You asked cautiously, hoping you weren't prying.

“My dad…” He chuckled sarcastically. “My dad was...let’s just say life actually got better when he left,” He looked down. You saw pain and shame in his eyes, and you instantly empathized.

Not so much with the dad thing, but that constant nagging of shame and hurt. Which was totally unnecessary because you actually had the most loving family in the world, which only made you feel more guilt and shame, because you couldn’t appreciate it the way you were “supposed” to. It was just the way you were wired, and they understood that. But it didn’t help sway your guilt.

“He shacked up with Ariel’s mom for a few months and then took off with a LOT of her money,” He clenched his fists of the thought of the trail of destruction his father seemed to always leave behind.

“Luckily, Ariel’s mother didn’t associate myself with that asshole, although I’m pretty sure it’s because she wanted to replace him with me,” He shuddered at the memory of the several times Ariel’s mom had tried to “seduce” him when he was younger.

“Oh God,” You inadvertently made a grossed out face. The offended look on his face instantly made you panic. "Not like, you're gross. Just...she's gross. Hitting on a kid like that,"

"Oh I was ummm.." he chuckled nervously, looking towards the ocean. "I wasn't a kid per say," he coughed awkwardly.

"....How old were you?"

"I think I had just started at my first practice," he avoided the question. "She has a thing for lawyers. Probably becauses around them so often, always divorcing husbands,"

"So like, 28. And her mom was on husb--" You tried doing the math yourself.

"...I'm 15 years older than Ariel," He answered your mental question.

"Oh well, I mean that's cool," You smiled awkwardly. You failed to mention that you had graduated a year early in high school, so you were two years YOUNGER than Ariel.

"Uh huh," he raised an eyebrow with a chuckle.

"I get along with older people anyway," you said, than backpedaled immediately."I MEAN, not that you're old, just--"

"OldER," He kept his amused look at your faltering.

"I'm sorry, I wish I could blame this on the alcohol but I'm just…" you sighed. "Not made to interact with Humans,"

"Aw hey now come on," he punched your shoulder like a kid. "You're doing great, it's really cute," he smiled then realized what HE had just said, and backpedaled.

"I mean, endearing," he found a more suitable word, trying to hide the fact that he was probably a little buzzed and more attracted to you than he probably should be. However he noted the somewhat disappointed look you had when he corrected himself.

"You're probably the first person to think so,"

"Except Ariel, right?"

"She tolerates it, she definitely doesn't think it's 'cute'. She's tried to 'fix' me since we met,"

"Seriously?" "Who does she think she is--?" He started to get up like he was going to give her a "talking to".

"No no no, it's fine Rafael really," You stood up quickly and pulled on his arm gently, making him turn around quickly. You wondered if he had just felt that….reaction between you.

You were far too intellectual to believe in trivial things that people spoke about like a "spark", but in that moment you had to think to yourself maybe they had a point.

"Right, sorry," he nodded and quickly sat down. "I may be a little more buzzed than I thought,"

"No that was really sweet, honestly," you smiled softly. "I probably didn't explain it well," "She just wants the best for me,"

"You're perfect the way you are, Y/N," "I mean, you seem like a good kid,"

"Kid?" You were suddenly offended, though you weren't sure why. You'd always been thought of as a child, being younger than your peers most of your life. Always in higher classes in high school, younger than your college classmates. It had never bothered you before, not once.

But when Rafael called you a "kid", it felt like a gut punch, which made you feel even worse. You just met this guy, what was wrong with you?

"Person," he corrected himself. "I meant person," but the damage was done.

"....I should go check on Ariel, make sure she didn't get herself in a 'situation'," you turned to walk back into the house.

"Hey no wait Y/N, I thought we were--" He started to go after you but you put your hand up.

"No, really. I probably shouldn't have left her alone in the first place," You didn't even grab your drink you just waved your hands dismissively and disappeared back into the party before he could say anything else.

“....I guess I’ll sleep in my car,” He muttered to himself as he headed back around the house.

-----

The next morning Rafael had to leave early to get back to the city, but he had texted Ariel.

"Tell Y/N I'm sorry, and tell her if she has any questions about law to text me anytime, day or night,"

"What did that dick do to you?" She stomped into her bedroom, where you were sleeping.

"What? Your bro-- Rafael? Nothing! He didn't do anything!" Your head snapped up instantly awake.

"Well what's he apologizing for?" She held out her phone; you didn’t have your contacts in so you couldn’t read it.

"...For calling me a kid," You shrugged sadly.

"Oh. Well you ARE a kid, sweets" Ariel instantly dropped her anger into her happy self, patting you on the head like a dog.

"No I'm not…." You muttered. "Did he say anything else?"

Ariel didn't like the idea of that pompous prick getting his claws in you, she didn't like it one bit.

"Nope," she lied.

"Oh," you replied sadly.

"Oh please don't tell me you care what what that bonehead thinks" she scoffed. "He thinks he's some 'big deal' because he has a fancy title,"

"No he doesn't," You instantly defended him, though you weren’t sure why. Weren’t you mad at him? No, actually you were kicking yourself for taking it so hard and just leaving him on the beach. You could have stayed there talking to him all night.

"Oh no, he got to you didn't you?" She acted concerned. "ugh I knew it, I should have warned you,"

"Warned me?" You looked at her confused.

"Yeah, it's what he does," she continued to lie. "He likes to seduce my friends for sport," She continued to spin a web of deceit.

"I...I don't believe you," You mumbled. You had never dared to even slightly disagree with Ariel, terrified anything would set her off and she’d “disown” you.

"Excuse me?” Her head whipped around.

"I don't believe you," you repeated. Her eyes widened with shock at your defiance. She almost lost it on you, before realizing honey worked better than vinegar.

"Honey, think about it," She came around and sit next to you on the bed. "He reeled you in and then called you 'kid'. Probably because you started making heart eyes at him, right?"

"I don't, it wasn't--" You tried recalling every single detail of the interaction.

"See? He just likes the sport of getting women to fawn over him and then move on,"

"But then why did he apologize?" You pointed out, still not sure of her accusations.

"Probably because you're my best friend and he knew I'd kick his ass for hurting your feelings,"

"But--" You were sure it had been YOU who walked away from HIM. But...he didn’t come after you. Maybe he was satisfied with making you upset?

"He didn't ask me to give you his number," she flat out lied. "He obviously didn't want any more contact with you sweetie,"

She had a point. She smiled in victory when she saw the determination and hope in your eyes dissolve into sadness.

"I'm sorry, honey, I should have warned you," she feigned sympathy, pulling you into a tight hug. "Now let's get that skeezer out of your mind," she grabbed your hand and pulled you away.

------

A few days later

Rafael was bewildered that you hadn't contacted him. Did he imagine the connection you two seemed to have? Was he more intoxicated than he thought? No, that wasnt possible. Had he really hurt you that much by calling you a kid? And if so, why? Did you feel something that would hate for you to see her as a kid?

He decided to text Ariel.

"Hey...did you tell Y/N what I said?"

"Yes. She said to fuck off. You must have really pissed her off BRO."

That didn't seem right. That didn't even sound like something you'd say. It sounded like something his evil stepsister would say.

"Did she say that or did you say that?"

"Stay away from my friends, and get your own you perv,"

He knew it. She probably didn't even give you his number. “Oh god,” he thought. What if she hadn't said anything at ALL?

He needed a plan.

#rafael barba #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #law and order svu

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avengerscompound · 4 years

Text

The Surrogate - Chapter 15

The Surrogate: A Clintasha Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Clint Barton x Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Word Count: 1661

Rating: E

Warnings: Pregnancy, smut (Bi MFF threesome, oral sex, face fucking, vaginal sex, pregnancy sex)

Synopsis: A freak end of the world incident leads to meeting your two best friends, Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff. While your friendship with the two Avengers is anything but conventional, they are your all-time favorite people. When you find out that Clint and Natasha want to start a family but have exhausted all their options, you realize your powerset might allow you to give them what they want. Having your best friends’ baby might seem like a good idea on paper, but when you are as close as you, Clint, and Natasha are, will doing something so intimate mean feelings get a little mixed up?

Chapter 15

A soft buzz spread under your skin like a wildfire had started in your bloodstream and was quickly igniting every part of you. The heat it created seemed to fill the room. It was heavy, and oppressive, and clung to your skin in a sheen of sweat. There were hands everywhere, sometimes it felt like there were more than there should be. They caressed your burning skin, pinched your nipples, gripped you hard enough that if you could bruise, you would. You kept your eyes closed focussing solely on their touch and the way their skin felt against yours, creating a soft, prickling pleasure vibrating through you and settling just under the swell of your belly.

After Natasha and Clint began to feel the baby kick their hands were on you a lot. That wasn’t unusual for Clint. He was very tactile and his calloused hands were often on you or Natasha in some form. Now it was Natasha too. They would always have their hands on your stomach, sometimes it was just an absentminded thing - like their hands had magnets in them and your stomach was iron. Other times it was more deliberate. They would move their hands around trying to feel the kick of the baby. Natasha liked to sit by your feet and whisper to your baby bump in Russian.

There were times you loved the intimate domesticity. You’d been in relationships before and it was always nice to get to that point where affection and intimacy came without thought. There were other times when all you wanted was personal space and you would have to try very hard not to lose your temper at them when they were just trying to be involved.

Then there were times like this when the brush of their hand over your skin was like a trigger for your libido and all you wanted was for them to take your right then and there.

Thankfully both Natasha and Clint were always willing to help you out when that happened. In fact, Clint seemed to be quite into having pregnancy sex, and you were pretty sure half the time those touches were intentionally meant to get you worked up.

Natasha began to move her way down your body. She stopped at our breasts and pulled one nipple into her mouth and suckled. It made your breast throb and a dull, pleasant ache spiral out through the rest of you. Clint’s hand ran up the inside of your thigh. His rough palms scratched over your soft skin making you break out in goosebumps.

“Oh,” you gasped softly. You tilted your head back and let your lips remain parted, your features settling into a mask of silent ecstasy.

His lips ghosted up your neck and his hand moved higher, his fingers danced over your pubic mound, sending a shiver through you. His lips met yours, grazing over them as his tongue darted out like he was sampling you before he pulled your bottom lip between his. His fingers slipped between your folds and he slowly circled your clit.

You arched your back, moaning into Clint’s lips. Natasha slipped a pillow under your hips as you curved off the bed. The pressure on your lower back felt lessened and she moved down, kissing a trail down the side of your stomach. She pushed your legs apart and while Clint continued to rub your clit and toy with your folds, she flattened her tongue and lapped her way up your cunt.

You moaned and tangled your hand into Clint’s hair, tugging on it as Natasha’s tongue explored every part of your pussy. Clint pulled back and pinched your clit. You gasped and your eyes snapped open.

“Hey, babe,” he teased playfully, his blue eyes looking into yours. “Wanna suck my dick while Nat goes down on you?”

“Yes,” you mewled. “Give it to me.”

Clint got up on his knees and straddled your chest. You opened your mouth and he teased the head of his cock over your lips. You closed your eyes again, sticking out your tongue and licking a bead of precome from the head of Clint’s cock. He eased his cock into your mouth and your tongue curled around it instinctively. As his cock penetrated your mouth, Natasha’s fingers penetrated your cunt. She pushed two deep inside you, curling them so they dragged over you g-spot. You moaned loudly and Clint’s cock jumped in your mouth. He groaned in response and seemed to pick up his pace.

The fire that had been burning its way through you seemed to intensify. It roared through you, consuming you from the inside out. You tried to relax, giving yourself to it, but the way Clint’s cock restricted your breathing combined with the way Natasha curled her fingers like she was calling to someone, dragging them over your g-spot again and again and it pulled you apart.

Your legs trembled and you bucked under her like you were trying to escape the orgasm building in you. Clint leaned back and pushed your hips down, holding you in place for Natasha. It meant he couldn’t thrust into your mouth so you took over sucking. You bobbed your head up and down as best you could, though you were finding it hard to focus. Your body shuddered in response to Natasha. The heat swirled inside you and built in your core like a ball of hot stone. All at once, the dam burst and you came. You released Clint’s cock with a loud cry and arched your back up as you pussy spasmed with it.

“There we are,” Natasha said, getting to her knees but continuing to stroke you through it.

You lay panting, your body quivering as the last of the orgasm ran through you. “Fuck…” you sighed, a feeling of fuzzy softness settled in on you.

“Not done yet, babe,” Clint said. “Nat and I still need ours.”

You giggled and awkwardly rolled over onto your hands and knees. Natasha lay back and spread her legs and as you crawled towards her, she started to play with her pussy. She spread her folds, showing you the glistening pink lips ready for your mouth. You bit your bottom lip as you moved closer, breathing in her heady aroma.

“Mm… Nat, I want you so bad,” you hummed.

“I’m all yours, dorogáya,” she said.

You ducked your head down and ran your tongue up her folds. The tart and musky flavor coated your tongue. She was so wet and ready and you drank her up greedily, relishing the way her body shuddered with each sweep of your tongue.

Clint moved up behind you. His hands slowly caressed down your spine and over your hips. Your body tingled under his gentle touches. He slowly started to rut against your ass, his cock sliding up and down against your folds so that the head of his cock pressed and released on your already oversensitive clit. You pressed your lips around Natasha’s clit and moaned.

Natasha lifted her hips needily, pushing her cunt up into your mouth. You flicked your tongue over it quickly and she shuddered again. “More, dorogáya. I need more.” She wasn’t begging. She was demanding.

You pushed two fingers deep into the wet heat of her cunt and as her walls clamped down tight on your digits, Clint thrust his cock deep into you. You gasped, releasing her clit as Clint began to fuck you. He spanked your ass playfully. “Don’t forget Nat,” he said.

You shook your head, trying to clear it and focused on Natasha. You twisted your wrist, seeking out the soft surface of her g-spot. Her fluids ran from her, and you lapped them up. It was like eating lychee - wet and sweet - and tasted like the beach. You pulled her clit between your lips and focused your tongue on it, trying to get her to come before you did again.

She moaned softly and rolled her hips like she was trying to fuck your face. Your fingers touched down on that sweet spot inside her and she cried out and jerked under you. Clint seemed to take that as some kind of signal. He began thrusting into you hard and fast, pushing you into Natasha more. You corkscrewed your wrist and eased a third finger in, stretching her as you worked her g-spot. You dug your knuckles into that sweet spot inside her and sucked hungrily on her clit. She cried out and began to tremble as her own orgasm approached.

Clint’s body slapped against yours as he fucked you, adding a steady beat to the moans you were all making. Natasha cunt began to flutter and clench around your fingers. You pushed your knuckles hard into her g-spot and she came, bucking up and crying out. You drank her up greedily, savoring the taste.

She sat up and moved next to Clint. The two began to kiss passionately above you. Natasha reached under you and rubbed your clit furiously as Clint fucked you. It was all it took. Your body seized up and you cried out loudly as you came, your cunt clamping down around Clint’s cock. His hips stuttered and he groaned, and in three final thrusts, he came, spilling inside you.

You sighed and let yourself sink into the bed.

“There you go,” Clint said playfully. “Will that get you through the rest of the day?”

“Mm… maybe,” you hummed. “Though now I wanna sleep.”

“Then sleep, dorogáya,” Natasha whispered. “You’re growing a whole other person. It’s bound to take it out of you.”

“And when you wake up, we’ll have all your other cravings satisfied too,” Clint teased. “We can even wake you with sex if you want.”

You closed your eyes and smiled. “That would be nice,” you hummed. There were definitely some big advantages to dating two people. Especially when those people were Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff.

// NEXT

#clint barton #natasha romanoff #clint barton x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #clint barton x natasha romanoff x reader #clintasha #clintasha x reader #black widow #black widow fanfic #hawkeye #hawkeye fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #pregnancy #smut #the surrogate

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writefightandflightclub · 3 years

Note

what do you think Nathan would do if his girl wasnt in the mood for sex... like, nonsexual intimacy with Nathan Bateman,,, what would that he like I wonder

Thanks for the ask, Anon, and sorry it took a while to respond! I’m not sure if this is exactly what you wanted but I hope you like it! :D If you don’t, I’m sure you will at least enjoy the GIF :P

Affection (Nathan Bateman headcanons)

GIF: @yoongifilm

So, I think Nathan has all sorts of non-sexual ways to be intimate. Intimacy can be so many things! Sure, he’s got quite a high sex drive, but if his partner isn’t feeling it he’ll never push. He knows when he can tease a little to win you over and when it’s clearly a hard nope.

Nathan can be reluctant to show affection and emotions, especially in “typical” ways, but if he cares for someone and they engage him in the right way (and put in the work to decipher him) he really opens up (I mean, compared to before, still not a ton :P).

So, what are some of the ways he will get intimate, and spend his time with you?

First of all, Nathan isn’t a small talk kinda guy. He prefers deep, passionate discussion, and he loves the intimacy of a deep conversation with you, over dinner, out on the deck looking at the moon and stars, or curled up somewhere cosy in the house under a blanket. He loves how your mind works differently to his, how you alert him to some of his blindspots, and how you surprise and challenge him. He also loves that you can keep up with him, and he loves that he can express himself fully without judgement. The two of you have had so many lengthy discussion on philosophy, ethics, AI, art, music, humanity, the meaning of life, that movie you watched the other night that you have conflicting theories about... the list goes on. Nathan loves knowledge, and there are so many topics he’s interested in and passionate about (learning about you now being one of them, and when he’s interested in something, he goes all in!).

When the two of you are in your safe bubble of intense conversation, you love the way his dark eyes animate and his hands wave to express himself as he talks to you. You love how when you speak he truly listens, and the way you can see him processing your input and adjusting his theories at a mile a minute. He’s incredibly cultured and well-read (and obviously a genius), and you’re in awe of him, and there’s also something special about him taking the time to share his knowledge with you. You love this kind of intimacy, especially when he gets excited about an idea and you see that rare and happy spark in his usually calculating eyes. It really shows how much he trusts you, even with classified ideas and some of his inner and more personal thoughts. Plus, you’re the only one who gets to share and see this side of Nathan, when he can be so closed-off to everyone else.

Sure, sometimes the discussion will get heated, and often you end up teasing each other and having some banter, but knowing that you also make each other laugh is also a really important part of your relationship. Nathan has a dark, singular sense of humour, which is a little hard to pin down, but now that you know him well, he can always bring a smile to your face. Even better if one of his cheap, crude comments draws that dirty, throaty chuckle from you that he likes so much.

Sometimes it’s physical affection. Whilst physical affection seems more important for you than it is for Nathan, that’s not to say it doesn’t feature. Your favourite thing is the way he has you sit on his lap as he taps away on his laptop, just so he can hold your body close to his and feel the heat and weight of you settle on him while he works. His lips will find your hairline to pepper unconscious kisses onto you at intervals, and every now and again his fingers will lightly and absent-mindedly wander over your skin. Strangely, you enjoy his physical touches a lot when his head is half in his work, as you can simply enjoy it without wondering if he’ll want to escalate things, or whether one or both of you will end up making a comment that will prickle the other. Like this, when you’re both quiet and still and just enjoying this closeness, you can truly appreciate his soft affection, and you can feel how much he likes having you around. Plus, he’s beautiful when he’s concentrating on something, bathed in blue light, his eyes intense one moment and then ever so slightly softening; for example, when you brush the buzzed hair at the nape of his neck, wriggle on his lap, or nuzzle closer to him. You love the little hums he emits, and you’d never point it out to him as you’re not even sure he knows he’s doing it. You feel utterly content, and, even better, you can tell how much it relaxes him too. He always seems to get his best work done when you’re soothing him.

I mean, to be honest, the fact Nathan allows you to be by his side at all, shows how comfortable he is being intimate with you, in ways he would never be with anyone else. He’s let you into his private space fortress, and into all of his secrets. Nathan can be quite introverted, and often needs to retreat from everything , going through intense periods of inspiration where he isolates. People can exhaust him... he’s just not good at peopling. Basically, there aren’t many people he could stand to be around constantly. You two, however, have developed a comfortable way of being, whether you’re working out together, hiking together, cooking dinner together, or working on opposite sides of the room, you have this blissful, comfortable silence with one another. You feel free enough to be yourself and you think he does too.

Nathan does care for you, and the way he notices a lot of little details about you is really touching. Sure, a lot of the times he might be an asshole, self-involved, and completely oblivious when you try to verbalise your feelings, but he’s a lot better at picking-up on a lot of your physical cues (he’s spent a long-time studying body language and he’s very in-tune with your body, which he loves, by the way). He might tend to a small wound that is worse than you let on mid-way through a hike, pulling you aside and carefully, wordlessly patching you up with a stern expression. He might notice you twinging from that niggle in your back and slip up behind you to rub your shoulders as you stir the food in the saucepan. He’s also very conscious of keeping you safe and healthy, and while you may not find love notes all over the house, sometimes the snack he leaves for you on the corner of your desk shows he cares just as much as something sappy would.

He’s not a super snuggly person, and he doesn’t really like lying down and “doing nothing” (even when you try to explain the benefits), but on the ocassions you can get him to stay in bed a little longer, or coax him breifly into a warm bath, he will wrap those strong arms of his around you and hold you close from behind, planting a soft kiss on your shoulder, his beard nuzzling and tickling at you. There is no better feeling than this. You think , over time, that Nathan’s even come to enjoy it more too, as, sometimes, when you fear that you’ve held him in place too long, it turns out he doesn’t want to let go, and will find some excuse to stay just that little bit longer. (The first time you convince him to be little spoon in bed as well, oh my GOD. He almost jumps up immediately and practically flees, however, you’ve noticed him backing himself up to you at night, on the rare ocassions he needs a little affection of his own. You are nice enough not to tease him.)

Also, Nathan’s not super tactile unless sex is involved, but he’ll let you do little things for him, like massage and oil his sore muscles, or run sweet-smelling oils through his beard, or even shave his head for him (the first time was hilarious). You know no-one else would get to do this for him, and so it always feels special to touch him and take care of him like this.

Basically, Nathan likes being around you.

And, on the occassions where he’s not pissing you off, you feel exactly the same.

#Nathan Bateman #Nathan Bateman x reader #nathan bateman headcanon #Ex Machina #Oscar Isaac #Luna answers

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moonflowerlesbians · 3 years

Note

Or #22 for Dani & Jamie please !

Many apologies for this taking a hot minute. I started it to help with writers block and then it gave me more. Whoops. Also included here, prompt #35 from another anon.

This probably isn’t what you had in mind, but not to worry, angst is coming in another prompt.

You can also read this and my other prompt-fills here.

~~~

Drunk Jamie is a sight to behold.

It’s a rare and beautiful thing that Dani is sure to treasure on the infrequent occasions Jamie allows herself to fall and trusts Dani enough to catch her. To see Jamie inebriated is sacred, or, at least, Dani thinks so. Because she is the only one who’s seen Jamie drunk, face flushed and carefree laughter spilling from her lips. She’s vulnerable here, alcohol having eroded the rings of fearsome walls she’s built around her life, trusting Dani to protect her from any threats. She’s softer, more relaxed.

It’s a good look on her, Dani thinks.

They’re in the back room of The Leafling, reclining, legs propped up, on the ratty sofa they found at the second-hand store not three weeks prior. The shop is quiet, the doors locked and the lights shut off. The plants sit in baskets and pots and displays placed perfectly to suit their needs. Empty drink trays decorate the countertop, a problem for tomorrow.

“You did it.” Dani stares at the ceiling, her heart warm. Jamie’s back is pressed comfortably against her front, and Dani twirls a strand of brown hair between her fingers as crickets chirp outside. The world is at peace.

“We did,” Jamie hums. “We bloody did it. Business owners, the both of us.” She barks a laugh and nuzzles her head into Dani’s collarbone.

They’d just concluded a soft opening party for the shop. Small business owners and potential clients had wandered racks of Jamie’s precious plantlings as the woman herself flitted nervously on the outskirts to avoid the shower of compliments. Dani had done most of the talking, offering up hors d’oeuvres and baked goods. As it turned out, despite her hot drink deficiency, she’s a rather decent baker.

“Oh, these are just lovely!” Mrs. Windham from the bookstore down the way, had said, gushing over a bouquet of hydrangeas.

“All Jamie,” Dani had proclaimed proudly.

“Well, she has quite the gift.”

“Doesn’t she?” Jamie had met her eye from across the room, sipping on her second -- or third -- glass of champagne, and offered a small smile.

Dani doesn’t begrudge her the drinks. Jamie has never been much of a people person, and who is Dani to judge if alcohol makes socialising just a bit less nerve-wracking? Besides, a buzzed Jamie is quite endearing, if Dani’s being honest.

This is the part where Dani shines, in any case. Making connections comes naturally to her, or, at least, more naturally than it does for Jamie. Being a teacher, she had to be good at it. She always had a knack for cracking the toughest students, much to the bewilderment of her colleagues.

Half the time, the kid was just lonely. Needed someone to talk to. Dani could relate.

It’s a skill that’s served her well in life and in her relationships.

Jamie stirs, and Dani wrinkles her nose, spluttering as brunette curls invade her mouth.

“Hey, easy there-” she finds herself silenced by a bruising kiss. “Um,” she blinks up at Jamie, who’s looking down at her with a dopey smile, “hello?”

“Why’re you dressed like that?” Jamie drawls.

Dani surveys her outfit, though her investigation lacks scope on account of her incredibly attractive girlfriend straddling her lap. “Um. Does that mean it looks good, or should I change?”

Jamie avoids the question. “I’m rather fond of you, you know.” Her breath smells of cheap champagne.

“It’d be kind of awkward if you weren’t. We’re in pretty deep, you know,” Dani mimics, and Jamie’s faces scrunches in disapproval.

“That was bad. That was bloody awful, Poppins.” Jamie rolls off her to lean against the opposite arm of the chair, and Dani finds herself missing the weight. It’s nice feeling safe enough to have someone so close that even inches of separation are a loss.

“You never answered the question.”

Jamie hums. “You never answered mine.”

“You’re cocky when you’ve been drinking, you know that?”

“And you’re right beautiful all the time.”

Dani pauses mid-retort, her mouth open slightly. Jamie stares at her from across the couch, that damn cheeky smirk on her face.

“Quite alright there, Poppins?” Her voice is just above a whisper, sultry and mischievous. Leaning in, “Look a little flushed.”

“I...you…”

Jamie studies her fingernails. “Out with it, darling. Haven’t got all night.”

“I...I’m fond of you, too.” Dani manages. “Even when you’re lying.”

Jamie feigns outrage, hand coming up to clasp her chest. “Never lied a day in my life. ‘Specially not to my favorite person in the bleedin’ world, who also happens to be the most lovely woman I ever laid eyes on.” She runs her hands up Dani’s calves.

Dani scoffs, gently shoving her off. “‘Never lied’ my backside, but I’ll let it slide just this once, and only because you’re knackered.”

“Am not,” Jamie replies petulantly, then promptly yawns. She freezes. Dani raises an eyebrow. “Christ, betrayed by my own fucking body. Knew I never liked you,” she says to her stomach for no discernable reason. “Gone and ruined my whole plan.”

“Your plan?”

“Meant to woo you.”

“I’m sorry,” Dani laughs, “that was your attempt at being sexy?”

“Oi,” Jamie pouts, “thought I was doing a marvelous job, thank you very much. You’d’ve been properly smitten. Irresistible, I am.”

“Yes, right, of course,” Dani coughs, “consider me thoroughly wooed.”

“Aha! See that, ladies and gents? That’s how it’s done.” She gestures around the empty back room to her invisible audience, which Dani assumes is giving a standing ovation. She joins in, her solo bout of applause echoing too loudly in the space.

“Hey, Casanova. This plan of yours have an endgame?”

Jamie cuts her sweeping bow short. “‘Course. Can’t rile you up with nowhere to go. No fun in that.”

“And your goal was…” Dani prompts, sensing a trend. “To flirt me into bed with you?”

“Forgive me for wanting to romance my business partner to celebrate our smashing success.”

“Business partner, huh? Not sure how the laws work back in England, but here in the States, we have rules against sexual activity in the workplace.”

“Best get out of the workplace then, yeah?” Jamie’s eyes are dark.

“Yeah,” Dani breathes. She has half a mind to pin Jamie to the couch then and there. Not to go any further than, perhaps, a heated make out session. Not with Jamie in this state. But before the thought can fully evolve, Jamie’s face splits into another massive yawn.

Dani sighs affectionately and gets to her feet. “C’mon,” she says, holding out her hand for Jamie to take, “let’s go home.”

Jamie stands, a little shaky at first, but she’s stable as Dani gathers their things. Side by side, they walk the few blocks to their apartment. The night air is cool against Dani’s face, and the chill sobers Jamie enough that her promiscuity seems to settle. By the time they unlock the front door, she’s blinking sleepily at Dani, who guides her into the bathroom and starts the shower.

It’s odd to see Jamie like this, Dani thinks. She’s soft, pliant beneath Dani’s steady hands undressing her. The pensive silence is common enough, but this feels gentle, more open, somehow. The intimacy is of a kind Dani never imagined she would experience, and neither, she assumed, had Jamie. It speaks to the immense chasms they’ve breached on bridges of trust. That they are able to concede control of their bodies with a blanket confidence that they are safe. They are safe, and they are protected.

It’s a bond Dani treasures, and one she hopes will last a lifetime. Two, if she has anything to say about it.

Jamie steps into the shower with a washcloth, and Dani sets about laying a folded pair of flannel pants and an old t-shirt on the bed. When she returns, Jamie wears a towel and an adoring expression. Dani tilts her head, confused.

“Meant what I said earlier. About you being beautiful.” She is deliberately earnest.

It’s difficult to feel beautiful when your body doesn’t feel like your own. When you prepare to look in the mirror each morning and wonder if you’ll recognize yourself. When the face that’s stared back at you your whole life has changed, and a brown eye is a reminder that you aren’t in control. Dani is learning, though. Slowly.

And she knows Jamie wouldn’t lie, especially drunk Jamie. She lacks the capacity to be anything but adorably honest, despite her admirable attempts at seduction.

Unable to put her thoughts into words, Dani cups Jamie’s jaw, brushing away droplets that trickle from damp curls, and kisses her sweetly.

“To bed with you,” Dani says, shooing her into the next room. Jamie manages to steal three more kisses along the way. She tastes of the mint toothpaste she’d used in the shower. “Come on now, PJs are on the bed.”

“Yes, ma’am.” She thinks she hears Jamie murmur, and Dani can’t contain her eye roll. The situation isn’t unlike the bedtime antics of a child, and the mental picture of her grown partner in footie pajamas evokes a chuckle. She tucks that image away for later.

Helping the shirt over Jamie’s head from behind, Dani presses a fleeting kiss to the scar on her shoulder, a silent observance of the vulnerability they’ve cultivated. Jamie had never hidden her burn, choosing instead to spin her tale of woe before the story came up organically. Much, much later, curled in darkness beneath motel sheets, she had whispered her insecurity and given voice to the resulting shame around feeling self-conscious at all.

Dani makes sure to pay special attention to the area during all subsequent explorations, noting each ridge and pockmark like a cartographer charting new terrain.

She peels back a corner of their duvet, allowing Jamie to climb in.

Jamie clings onto her arm, pulling her in as well. “Please don’t leave me,” she frowns.

“I don’t want to go, but, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m still wearing my party outfit.”

“Hard not to notice when you’ve been teasing me with it all evening,” Jamie sighs, a little sad, a little longing.

Dani swats her playfully. “Go to sleep. I’ll be right there.”

“Can’t properly get to sleep without you, now can I?” Jamie grumbles, but rolls over nonetheless.

Evidently, she can.

By the time Dani slips into sleep clothes and finishes brushing her teeth, Jamie’s breathing has evened out. Dani tucks herself in beside her and drapes an arm across Jamie’s hips.

They’ve built this life together, the two of them. They’ve got an apartment and a small business and more plants than they know what to do with. They’ve got postcards stuck to the fridge and a rickety heater and several throw pillows that Jamie claims to hate but cuddles with when Dani isn’t looking. And, sure, the back left stove burner only works half the time, and maybe the lock on the front door seems to hate Dani’s key in particular, but this is their home, and theirs alone.

Not a foster home, not the O’Mara’s, not the Wingraves’.

Theirs.

Dani revels in the thrill of it all. She’s still scared out of her wits, certainly, but, Dani has found, it’s infinitely more difficult to be scared when the person you love most in the world sleeps soundly beside you on sheets you chose together.

She takes in this feeling, savors this comfort for when the clouds next block the sun.

Whatever comes next, she is not alone.

#my painkillers wore off and so did my ability to write apparently #oh well #I hope you like this!#the haunting of bly manor #dani clayton #jamie #dani x jamie #jamie x dani #haunting of bly manor #Bly Manor fanfic #fic #writing #my writing #prompt fill #damie #damie fanfic #fanfic #the haunting of Bly Manor fanfic #bly manor

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