#someone brought it to my attention that I had never drawn him in a dress before | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

homeofthelonelywriter · 2 months

Text

Drawn to you | Pt. 1

(A/N) My first Alastor fanfiction. Let me know if you want another part!

Pairing: Alastor x bunny demon!Reader (no Y/N)

Warning: fluff, talk about death, mentions of Alastors human life activities (iykyk)

Synopsis: Alastor had never felt the need for friends, or something even deeper. But now that you're here...what is that feeling in his chest?

Everyone was gathered in the hotel lobby as Charlie was going through a new trust exercise. Angel had tuned out a long time ago and Husk didn’t even come out from behind his bar. The only ones actively listening were Vaggie, Nifty, and Sir Pentious. Alastor, similarly to Angel was physically there but not paying any attention.

Instead, his mind was focused on his radio broadcast comeback. What would he talk about? Who’s screams would he share with the other sinners?

A timid knock brought him back to there and then, as his eyes met Charlie’s. Hers were bright and sparkling, anticipation clear.

“A new guest, a new guest, a new guest.”

The words left her in a sing-song manner as she started to skip towards the front door. But Alastor held out his cane to stop the princess.

“Please, don’t let this interrupt this very important exercise. I will gladly see to whoever is at the door. As is my job, of course.”

His signature smile widened, almost in a desperate way. Anything to get out of this group therapy.

“Ah, of course, Alastor. Thank you.”

With that, Charlie turned back towards the rest of the group and continued to talk, but not without glancing back a few times, to watch what was going on.

As soon as the princess agreed to let Alastor handle the newcomer, he used his shadows to teleport himself over to the door, before energetically swinging it open. His mouth opened to speak his practiced welcome, but no words came out.

His eyes landed on you and he felt his mouth dry up. You were…cute.

“H-Hi. I hope I’m not bothering anyone, I…I heard about the hotel and w-wanted to ask if I-I could help?”

The demon in front of you kept staring without uttering a single word and you started to grow worried. Maybe you shouldn’t have come. Maybe they didn’t need any more people working here. Maybe they didn’t even want anyone else working here. Maybe this is all just a huge front for something really sinister. Maybe…

Alastor blinked, once, twice, three times before something pulled him out of his stupor. His eyes snapped to the top of your head, where your long ears had started to twitch while you were overthinking.

“Ahm…”

Alastor started but was quickly cut off when Charlie appeared beside him.

“Hi! We’d love your help! Come in, come in!”

The princess quickly grabbed your hands and pulled you inside, leaving the stunned overlord at the door. You smiled at her energetic display, but couldn’t help but glance back at the sinner, dressed in red, still standing at the door. By now he was slowly closing it before he turned to look at you.

Being caught staring, you quickly averted your gaze and instead focused on what the demon beside you was saying. She introduced you to the others, before she whisked you away, to show you around. Alastor was left in the lobby, mulling over what had just happened.

“Looks like someone left you speechless, huh Smiles?”

It was almost terrifying how quickly Alastor whipped around to glare at the spider demon.

“Would you like to repeat that, Angel?”

Loud static filled the lobby and Angel shrunk in on himself, muttering a quick apology before running to his room. Alastor sighed and fixed his bowtie, asking himself what had gotten him so worked up. His mind only answered with a single image. You, at the door, looking at him, hope in your eyes.

With a quiet growl, Alastor teleported himself to his radio tower. At least there he would be able to find some peace. Or so he thought. He had barely sat down when he heard a familiar voice outside the door.

“And this is Alastor’s radio tower. Do you see this light? When this is on, he’s in the middle of a broadcast and you really shouldn’t disturb him. Just in general, if he’s in here, only disturb him if really necessary. Honestly, I think that’s something that applies to him in general.”

The last sentence had Alastor up on his feet and in front of the door in a split second. He swung it open, his signature grin wide.

“Ah, the newbie.”

He grinned down at you, his grin faltering slightly as he watched you shrink away. Still, he carried on.

“Would you like a tour of my studio? It’s small, but it is mighty.”

Had Alastor spared Charlie a look, he would’ve noticed how her eyes lit up and she started nodding.

“I think that would be wonderful!”

Charlie gently shoved you towards the door.

“I have to get back to the others. Would you finish the tour after the…tour? Just show her to her room, that’s all that’s left.”

Alastor nodded, before placing his hand on the small of your back and gently ushering you inside.

“Of course, consider it done.”

Charlie thanked him, before hurrying back to the lobby.

Once Charlie was gone, Alastor closed the door and turned to look at you. He was about to say something, but the moment he noticed the amazement in your eyes, he lost the words he was about to speak. Instead, he let you look around, walk up to his console, and trail your fingers over the buttons and levers.

This was his holy space. Somewhere where not even the princess of Hell was allowed to enter. But you being here? That just felt right. He continued to watch you, and for the first time in his life, both on Earth and here, he felt something like…love.

“Do you like it?”

His voice was soft, the static almost completely gone. You turned to look at him and after a moment of hesitation, you nodded.

“When I was alive, I used to work in a radio station. I wasn’t a host, but I wrote scripts and corresponded with listeners. I loved it.”

Alastor’s smile turned genuine as he slowly walked toward you.

“May I ask where you worked? In which city?”

You chuckled and turned back to the controls.

“New Orleans.”

Alastor halted in his movements, staring at you with wide eyes.

“A-And when did you die?”

His hands were shaking. What if…?

“Not too long ago. I think one, maybe two years ago.”

Your response caused him to release a breath of relief. If you had died closer to his lifetime, there would’ve been a good chance you knew of his doings and for some reason…he didn’t want you to know. Didn’t want you to fear him, to think of him with disgust in your heart.”

“Well, it seems we’re connected in some ways. I too worked in a radio station in New Orleans! However, I did pass quite some time before you have.”

You look at him, a soft smile on your face.

“That’s too bad. I would love to have met you on Earth.”

He grinned and stepped closer to you.

“Well, you’ve met me now.”

With practiced grace, he reached for your hand and brought it to his lips, ghosting a kiss onto your knuckles. You could feel your cheeks heat up at the gesture and quickly tried to change the topic.

“So you still have a radio broadcast down here?”

Alastor chuckled at your reaction before straightening to his full height again.

“I sure do. Although I did have to take a break. I’m currently working on my comeback if you’d like to help me.”

You nodded, excited at the prospect of working in radio again.

The two of you sat down together and started working, not noticing how late it was getting. By the time either of you realized what time it was, it was well past midnight and both your bellies were grumbling with hunger.

“My oh my, we truly got a lot done. How about some well-deserved dinner, my dear?”

You nodded and accepted Alastor’s hand, and before you knew it, you were standing in a different room. Half of it looked like a standard hotel room with a couch and table, but the other half looked like a forest. A forest you knew all too well.

“Couturie Forest.”

Alastor chuckled beside you.

“You are right. That forest was one of my favorite places when I was alive. I couldn’t resist the urge to bring it here as well.”

You smile at him.

“It’s beautiful.”

With a genuine grin on his face, Alastor offered you his hand, before leading you to the small dinner table that stood inside the forest. He pulled out your chair, before pushing it back in.

“What are you in the mood for, cher?”

You thought for a while before you named one of your favorite dishes. And with a snap of his fingers, it stood in front of you. Your eyes went wide as the smell invaded your nose.

“How…?”

“Well, let’s just say this is a part of my powers?”

You chuckled, before taking a bite, and an almost pornographic moan left your lips.

“Alastor, this is so good!”

His grin widened as he sat down opposite from you, also taking a bite.

The two of you made small talk while you ate, mostly talking about New Orleans and what had changed since Alastor had died. Even after both of you were done with the food, you continued to talk until you could no longer keep the yawns at bay.

Alastor chuckled and snapped, and the dirty dishes disappeared.

“Let’s get you to bed, shall we?”

He gently helped you to your feet and with his hand on your lower back, he led you out of his room and across the hall, where an empty room waited for a guest.

“There you go, cher. This is your room, to do with as you please.”

He opened the door and gently ushered you inside.

“But for now, you should go to sleep.”

Once again, he captured your hand and pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles, before looking up at you.

“Good night, dear.”

You smile at him sleepily.

“Good night, Alastor.”

Please consider reblogging and following me! It helps a lot!

Hazbin Hotel - Masterlist

Master-Masterlist

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel fanfic #alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor fanfiction #alastor fanfic #alastor love

457 notes · View notes

drabblesandimagines · 4 months

Text

Elevation

Leon Kennedy x female reader More of my fluffy nonsense

Hunnigan slams the phone down into the cradle at the end of her call and if you hadn’t already been casting auspicious glances up at the scene before you, her actions would’ve made you jump.

“What is it, Leon?” Hunnigan’s tone is blunt.

It would be so easy to look up at the handsome DSO agent then. You’d be perfectly within your right to look up too, your desk opposite sat directly opposite Hunnigan’s so you had ring-side side seats to the commotion. It wouldn’t look odd - he’d be in your eyeline, after all - but you fight the temptation, keeping your eyes fixed on the paper in front of you, fingers tapping idly away over the keyboard as you transpose to the screen.

Exactly what you’ve been doing the past ten minutes that Leon Kennedy has been wandering around the office, dressed in a pair of form-fitting jeans today, his gun holster peeking out from underneath a beloved leather jacket, directing all attention to a certain pair of assets.

Not that you were keeping track of how long he’d been there, of course, you had work to do.

“Huh?” For someone who had apparently been waiting on her call finishing, Leon’s thoughts seems elsewhere.

“I said,” Hunnigan adjusts her tone, “can I help you with something?”

“Does there have to be something? Surely a guy can just come visit his favourite FOS agent.”

“But you haven’t come to visit, you’ve come to loiter.” Hunnigan retorts. “I told you already, if I have anything for you, I will be in contact. Go home.”

There’s an incredulous scoff as he tries to think of a reason to stay, but it quickly transforms into a sigh as he admits defeat. “Fine.”

He begins his retreat towards the exit and you hear the tell-tale beep of his pass against by the door panel, the electronic lock then clunking in release.

“Have a good afternoon, ladies.”

You look up then – and only then - to find him looking directly at you. You give him a polite smile in return. “You too.”

He grins in return, a proper one that makes his eyes crease, before giving you a nod and a wave as he through the door. The smile stays on your lips as you reach for your mug of coffee – now ice cold - and take a sip.

“I think he likes you, you know?” Hunnigan states in her oh-so-nonchalantly way, making you choke on the gulp you’d just taken.

“What? No…! I mean, who?” Your voice is tight in response from having swallowed the liquid the wrong way, internally cursing. Smooth, real smooth.

“Leon.” The agent continues hammering away at her keyboard, kindly ignoring your attempts at being subtle.

“I don’t know where you’ve drawn that conclusion from.” You don’t – you really don’t. You could probably count the amount of conversations the two of you have had with all of your fingers, all just pleasantries.

“I’ve worked with him for years now and he’s never been here as much since your transfer started.”

“Coincidence, I’m sure. He just seems eager for work.”

Hunnigan goes to open her mouth in response when, thankfully, the phone on her desk rings. Saved by the bell.

Being afraid of elevators had never really been an issue until you had taken this assignment, being sent to work on the 12th floor. At the very least it’s proving to be a good workout the number of times a day you now trudge up and down the stairwell from your desk to the archives below. The DSO holds a surprising amount of paper copies of intel in the basement – both handwritten and old typewriter documents - secured behind a vault door, rumours of the place being rigged to ignite in flames if an intruder is detected to prevent it all from falling into the wrong hands.

The DSO board had decided that intel should now be stored in the government-secured cloud and on paper and you’d been brought in as an archivist/analyst hybrid, on loan from the CIA. The project you’d been tasked with, single-handedly, was transferring intel that was currently only held in those paper copies to the online system. There was technology that could do but it wasn’t perfect – scrawled handwriting would often prove indecipherable by most machines or it misread words, so everything would need quality checked. It was agreed a human touch was best and your name had come up after the CIA had undertaken a similar audit of their files a few years ago to excellent results. Once everything had been digitized, it had become easier to quickly identify any links between incidents past and present – using surnames, terms, intel – and even stopped a handful of potential ones, so the DSO had been keen to put the practice in place.

It did mean, however, that every day you’d go down to the vault, select a box of paperwork – either the one you’ve got partway through or a whole new one - trudge back up the many flights of stairs, and then start typing from page to screen to produce a digitized document. It was imperative that no-one else see the documents, so they’d set you up in Hunnigan’s office as one of their most trusted agents.

Wanting to look professional whilst in the office but not break your neck on the stairs, you kept a selection of heels in your locker to swap out of for your reliable sneakers. Hunnigan was still working away when you packed up around 7pm, kicking off your heels to switch out, and had been in a lengthy, hushed tone call for the past hour. You nodded your head as you heaved the box of documents up in your arms, and she waved back in acknowledgement.

Beeping your ID card at the door, the lock buzzed and the door opened automatically – a godsend as the box you had today was particularly heavy – everything within held in those awful arch-lever folders.

As you emerged, you heard the puff of the elevator doors beginning to slide shut, not even giving it a moment of thought. You turned to the left to head down the stairs as usual, when a gloved hand slammed between the elevator doors, preventing them from closing with a thud and giving you a start, turning to see a face.

The face of Leon S Kennedy catches you entirely by surprise. He hadn’t even been by the office today to bother Hunnigan, though you know he does have his own desk somewhere in the building, maybe even his own office. He smiles at the sight of you, beckoning you over.

“Hey. Hop on in - I’m going down.”

You hesitate at the invitation. You haven’t been in an elevator for years and he’s just stood there, waiting, holding the door open. You have to say or do something. “You okay?”

Next thing you know, as if you’d been hypnotized, you were walking towards the elevator, then stepping over the threshold into a place you swore you never would enter again.

“Basement?” Leon fingers hover over the button panel in anticipation.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

He presses the buttons for ground and basement simultaneously with two fingers, and the door slides shut with another puff of air.

The elevator and your stomach begin to descend in unison.

This is fine.

“Looks heavy. Can I…?” He gestures to the box, offering to take it.

“Oh, thanks, but it’s okay.” You bump the box up with your knee, trying to strengthen your grip on it. Your palms are sweaty, but you’re not sure if the cause is the elevator or the handsome man besides you.

Leon crosses his arms, leans back against the wall. “They still not given you a lackey to do all the grunt work? I thought that’s what they took on interns for these days.”

“It’s difficult when no-one else is meant to handle it, let alone see it but me.” Leon gives you a quizzical look at that. “It’s protocol, narrows down the potential for leaks. If anything gets out, it’s on my head, so…”

“What about when you take breaks? You don’t…”

You nod, shifting the box in your arms again. Why do they feel like jelly? “Gotta lug it back downstairs to be locked back in the vault.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Mm-mm. It’s fine – good exercise for me, I guess, between sitting at the desk all day, so…”

“Surely they could at least give you a desk closer to the grou-“

The elevator’s smooth descent is transformed into a shudder, followed by a loud metallic screech and a sharp jerk that makes your stomach truly drop before all motion halts. No, no, no, no.

“Huh.” Leon muses, calm as anything. He immediately presses the emergency call button, illuminated in red, but the only sound that emits out of the speakers is static. He presses it again to the same result, and then in rapid succession, as if that’ll coerce it into working.

You tighten your grip on the box, wanting to tell him to stop but, thankfully, he gives up before you can have the strength to find your voice and pulls his cell out from his pocket.

“Damn, no reception.” He looks back over to you then with a sympathetic smile. “Well, this is one way to get overtime outta us, hey?”

There’s no chance to reply before the elevator plunges into darkness and you drop the box immediately, thankfully away from your feet. It can only be a few seconds at the most but it feels like an eternity before the emergency lighting comes on, casting the small metal prison in a pale yellow hue.

Leon’s staring at you, looking concerned. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah.” You reply, not at all convincingly. You bend down to pick up the box to escape that blue-eyed gaze for a moment, heaving it back up in your arms. “Is this… normal for this office?” You hope he can’t hear how tight your voice is.

“Power must be down, seems like the back-up generator kicked in.” The agent shrugs, looking around the elevator as if something of use might be around. “It’ll prioritize the critical systems – so I’d guess lights, vending machines and elevators are not gonna be particularly high up on that list.”

“Wonderful.” You reply, breathily. It’s warm. Should it be warm? “Here, let me just…” Leon reaches over and gently tugs the box from your weak grip, no sign of surprise at the weight of it as he takes it. “We don’t know how long we’ll be in here, so let’s put this down.”

“No, I shou-“

“I promise I’m not going to try and read any of it.”

You watch him as he places it down, he’s sure to bend with his knees rather than his back, and tucks it into the corner under the button panel, out of the way. He stands back up to his full height, looking at you for a response, but all you manage is a shaky nod.

“Are you feeling okay?” “Y-yeah. Fine.” “Mm. Not a great liar.” He tilts his head, scanning you with his eyes once more. “What’s the matter?” “I…” Another swallow in the hopes of your mouth not feeling so dry. “I don’t like elevators. Always take the stairs.” “Oh.” Not the answer he was expecting it seems. “Wait, why’d you get in, then?” “Well, er…” You hesitate again, how do you answer that? “You… You told me to.”

He can’t help the goofy smile that crosses his face. “Huh, that’s all it takes? Interesting. I’ll have to remember that.”

You’re about to ask him what that’s supposed to mean, the words just on the tip of your tongue when the elevator jerks and they turn into a shriek. It’s over before it even begins, really, but Leon’s reflexes now have you pressed up against the wall, his arms braced above your head to protect it from any sort of impact.

“It’s all right,” he says, softly. “I’m here, I’ve got you.”

Your heart is beating too fast, tears burn at your eyes at the fright. He’s so close, you can smell his cologne – musky, hints of vanilla – but this isn’t where you want to be having this moment.

“How about we sit down, huh?”

“I’m okay.” Your answer is breathy again, your chest feeling tight. Panting like you’d finished climbing up 12 flights of stairs.

“It’ll be more comfortable.”

“Don’t wanna…” You try and take a deep inhale, but it doesn’t seem to reach the bottom of your lungs. “Don’t wanna s-shake it.”

“You won’t.” He drops his arms from against the wall and instead grabs your hand, squeezes it in an attempt to ground you. “Trust me.”

You want to trust him, but the panic is too strong. This was such a bad idea, why did you do this?

“I…”

“We’ll do it together, okay?” He somehow coaxes you to shuffle forward and then slips in behind you, taking hold of your other hand. “Just lean against me and we’ll ease on down.”

Leon presses his chest firmly up against your back and you wonder if he can feel how hard your heart is beating. He wraps his arms around your waist next, meaning you’re hugging yourself in a way before he slides down against the elevator wall, bringing you down with him, onto the carpeted elevator floor. He thought it was a seamless maneuverer, but the way he’d felt your nails dig into his leather gloves from how tight your grip was, he knew you weren’t of the same opinion.

“There we go.” His thighs are spread either side of yours, now that you’re nestled inbetween his legs. “Worried you were gonna pass out – you’d gone really pale. Just sit here and concentrate on your breathing a minute, okay? Feel how I’m doing it.”

You close your eyes and try to concentrate on how he’s breathing, feeling his chest expand as he inhales, loudly and deliberately through his nose, holds the breath, then exhales heavily through his mouth, tickling the back of your neck.

You try and mimic him, get your inhales and exhales in sync and, slowly, the pressure begins to ease in your chest as you feel your breaths get deeper and deeper.

"Feeling a little better?”

His voice reverberates from his chest being pressed up against your back, feels comforting. “Yeah. Thank you.”

“Hey, don’t mention it. My fault you’re in here, after all.” He replies, gently. “I’m gonna move now, okay? Wanna check you’ve got the colour back in your cheeks.”

You nod, and he somehow manages to shuffle back and to the front of you with overly cautious movements – definitely for your benefit, ever the gentleman - withdrawing his legs into a crossed position and giving you a smile as he takes in your appearance. Being so fixed in his gaze makes your cheeks prickle with heat – maybe not the colour he’d hoped to be checking.

“Yeah, you’re looking better. Good.” He nods in affirmation, more to himself than you. “That noise – I think someone was trying to get the power back on, sounds like it only worked for a second before it could get going. The elevator’s not gonna fall.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve had to disable some of them before – for work, I mean. They’re all equipped with multiple failsafe systems to prevent that exact scenario.”

“Disable them?”

“Just so they stop…” He gestures in a circle as he tries to find the words, “elevating, I guess, so I’m not pursued. Make ‘em take the stairs.”

“Ah, right.” You nod. “Wind them a bit.”

“Exactly. If you don’t mind me asking, you always been afraid of them?”

“No. Got stuck in one in an old apartment block years ago – it didn’t feel particularly modern. There were three of us – me and two drunk guys who kept jumping up and down, convinced that would make it move. The fire department got us out after two hours cos I had one of those… episodes. Haven’t been in one since.”

“Idiots.”

“They just kept laughing the more panicked I got. I felt so stupid.”

“Panic attacks are no joke. That box breathing always helps me if I feel on edge, though.”

“Yeah, that was really good.” You feel a shy smile creep over your face. “If I had to get suck in an elevator with anyone, I’m glad it was you.”

He practically beams. “Now I don’t feel quite so bad. I’ve gotta ask again though, you really got in here just because I said to?” He’s already seen you a panicking mess, so why not just be honest? “Your smile helped too.” “Well, consider me flattered.”

“It’s a nice smile…” You swallow, a little cautious of the next word. “Enticing.”

You swear you see a smidge of colour flush Leon’s cheeks then, but it must be a trick of the artificial lights. “Well, since we’re confessing – yours is too. That’s the real reason I was bothering Hunnigan. Wanted to see if I could win another.”

“You came to see me smile?” You’re definitely blushing now – cheeks prickling with the heat.

“Guilty. I don’t think you’d remember, but a week or so back I was having a real shitty day. Went to go debrief with Hunnigan and she wasn’t there, but you were. When I stormed in, you just gave me the best and most genuine smile I’d seen in days. Meant a lot.” He rubs the back of his neck, sheepishly.

You smile again, can’t help it, and he groans, jokingly. “Ugh, see? Not again – I don’t think my heart can take how sweet it is.”

You don’t know what to say to that but you’re excused when, suddenly, the lights transition overhead with a flicker from the emergency dulled tones to the standard, harsh fluorescent light and the elevator begins its smooth descent once more.

“Finally, huh?” Leon gets up easily to his feet and then offers you a hand.

“Yeah.” You accept it without hesitation, goosebumps prickling up your arm as he wraps his fingers around your hand and he pulls you up with ease. Slyly, his other hand now rests on the small of your back, drawing you in close…

The elevator dings, announcing its arrival on the ground floor and the doors slide open to reveal a maintenance worker, clad in blue overalls, waiting in the lobby. Leon draws back then, but still keeps his hand steady on your back.

“You two all right? Power-cut had rotten timing, I was gonna repair that emergency speaker tonight when most of the office was cleared out.”

“All good, thanks.” Leon bends down, picks up the box again without question and you follow him out of the elevator in pursuit, only to hear a cell begin to ring from his pocket. He balances the box with one arm – you’ve no idea how – and pulls out the device, frowning at the name on screen.

“Sorry, I’ve really gotta take this.” His brows furrow in annoyance. “You be okay with taking that downstairs?”

“Yeah, of course. I really should take it back now anyway, you know, just in case…” You trail off as he eases the box over to you, making sure you’ve got it properly before he lets go. “Thanks… for everything.”

“Pleasure was all mine.” He replies, sincerely, before reluctantly lifting the cell up to his ear.

“Kennedy.”

You leave him to his phone-call and head down the stairs for a thankfully unremarkable trip down to the vaults to replace the box back in its rightful place. It’d be a lie to say when you climbed back up to the lobby that you weren’t disappointed when there’s no trace of him to be found.

The next morning, after passing through the security check, you make your way down to the archive vault as usual, pressing your hand against the door panel to gain access. Sadly, you’ve still got a lot of work to do in the box you’d been working on yesterday, so you dutifully log its withdrawal in the computer system, and heave it up once more in your arms before heading out.

You only make it up one flight of stairs when you see him, leaned up against the stairway wall, one arm held against his chest whilst his other hand is holding his cell, squinting at some text. He looks up as you scuff your trainer on one of the steps and he smiles as you reach him, tucking his cell back away.

“Good morning.”

“Morning. What brings you here?” You curse inwardly. “I mean, not that it’s not a pleasant surprise, just…”

He waves it off. “I getcha. Well, I have some pretty good sway here, you know, so I’ve volunteered.”

“Volunteered for what?”

“Volunteered…” He steps forward and wraps his arms around the box, “..to be your stairs lackey.”

“Oh, no – it’s fine, honestly.” You feel flustered at the very idea. Leon’s one of the top, if not the top agent of the DSO. He can’t be doing manual labour for you, he shouldn’t. “You have so many better things to be doing. I can mana…”

“Please?” He tilts his head, gives you that enticing smile again. “I mean, I could just tell you,” – he teases – “but I thought I’d ask this time, so you’re sure.”

The smile makes you feel weak at the knees and you’d already proven yesterday you couldn’t resist its magic. “Okay. But you should definitely take the elevator then.”

“Uh-uh.” He shakes his head, taking the box into his arms. “It’s good cardio, got my weight-resistance. You’re practically doing me a favour by taking the stairs.”

“Is that so?”

“Mm-hm. Though,” he bites his lip in a pause, “I may have ulterior motives.”

“Right, and what would those be?”

“If I were to, say, visit the office around six tonight and carry this thing back down to the vault, maybe you’d go to dinner with me?”

God, you feel absolutely giddy - there’s no way you can hold back your smile. “I think that’s… acceptable.”

“Then we have a deal. Ladies first,” he nods with his head to up the stairwell.

“No, I… I think you should go first. Just so I can keep an eye on you on the way up. I’ve got to make sure you’re not sneaking a peek at the assets, you know?”

He quirks an eyebrow, you know he’s wondering what you’re thinking, but he shrugs it off all the same. “As you wish.”

And as you follow him up 12 flights of stairs, you slightly breathless and him seemingly fine, you can’t help but sneak a look at a different pair of assets before you.

---

Comments, likes and reblogs make my whole day x

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi/Commissions

#ghostdogwrites #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy x you

491 notes · View notes

justmediocrewriting · 4 months

Note

okay but thoughts on sanji x reader where she gets jealous bcs he flirts with every woman he sees and she’s scared to confess because she doesn’t know if he likes her or just loves to play a flirt

Tell It To Me Straight (Because I’m Going Crazy) {v.s}

Summary: it was just like you to fall head over heels for a guy at first sight, only to later realize said guy was the world’s biggest flirt. It would also happen to be your luck that this same guy would join your crew — and now you had to deal with feelings and other things that were equally as unpleasant.

Genre: angst, fluff

Requested: ✅

Pairing: Sanji x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: insecurities, pining, Sanji (that’s a warning, right?), angst with fluffy ending ❤️

A/n: anon bless you for requesting my husband Sanji. I love this man so much. This actually took me entirely too long to write and I’m so sorry for that, writers block has been hitting me like a fucking train. Anyway I hope y’all enjoy even tho I feel this one might be a bit shitty ❤️✌️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Red painted lips curved into a smile, hair pulled into a classy updo, high rosy cheekbones, and donned in a dress that hugged every curve just right, the woman was truly beautiful, and when the dim lighting of the tavern reflected off the pair at the bar, you couldn’t help but feel that she looked too good next to Sanji.

It was a reality that was painful but long since accepted by you, the fact that you’d never truly be good enough for the charming man — but acceptance didn’t curb the cinching pain within your chest, or the burning jealousy that flickered to life in your gut and heated the underside of your skin.

You pursed your lips as you watched the two exchange murmured words and laughs, and fury burned hot in your lungs when the woman brought a hand up to swipe painted fingernails along Sanji’s forearm — Sanji, predictably, didn’t usher the woman away, and your next heartbeat was incredibly painful when Sanji instead leaned into the touch.

It was utterly ridiculous, the way you burned with flaming jealousy — and honestly, you weren’t sure if you were more angry with Sanji’s antics, or the fact that they affected you the way they did, even though you had been aware and exposed to them from the start. Sanji was a flirt, through and through, and it didn’t matter if the woman he flirted with was ugly or gorgeous, he just enjoyed the act of it — and this very fact put you in a position where you had to constantly remind yourself that just because he showered you with compliments and called you pet names didn’t mean they were genuine, or that you were someone special to him.

You’d also thought that acknowledging this fact would chase away the deep feelings you harbored for the man, and in the beginning, it actually did, but Sanji always found a way to drag them back to the surface.

Sanji was tall, he was handsome, and he had a way with words that could make any woman melt, you included. When you’d first encountered Sanji at the Baratie months ago, you had been utterly and hopelessly drawn in by these very traits of his, and still to the day, you found yourself stuck to him like a magnet. And it infuriated you from the inside out.

Because you’d never even asked for it, and the only chance at relief had been stolen away from you when Luffy invited Sanji to the crew, and the man actually agreed — and for the past few months, you’d been plagued with so many emotions that it gave you mental whiplash.

The center of this inner turmoil also didn’t help any. From the moment Sanji locked eyes with you, he was spewing compliments and sweet nothings at you, and looking at you with these eyes that made you squirm in both the most unpleasant and pleasant ways; you’d never had that kind of attention from a man, especially not from a man as attractive and damn sophisticated as Sanji, and it was just as exciting and exhilarating as it was flustering. It was no surprise you’d fallen as fast as you had — anyone would, should they get the time to really be around Sanji for a prolonged period.

You had even once considered admitting your feelings to Sanji; the prospect of confession had swirled into your mind the first night of his joining, when the crew was locked on the path to the Conomi Islands to retrieve Nami. You two had fallen into conversation late into the night, swapping muted stories in the comfortable air of the Merry’s galley, and Sanji was so attentive, so alluring, and his eyes… his eyes were locked onto yours, as if you were the only girl in the world, and there was something within their depths, something that had you wondering if he’d felt the same sensation you had when you two had locked eyes in the Baratie.

They had you wondering, entertaining, if he truly thought of you in the same way you thought of him.

But that notion was quickly tossed away the night at Cocoyashi village — because you noticed that Sanji gave those eyes to nearly every woman he met, save for the ones who were underage, and it hit you so heavily that you were not special to him at all that you nearly lost your breath. From that point on, you swore away your feelings for the man, and promised yourself you’d never let yourself be mislead or disillusioned by his flirts and charms again.

Except, things didn’t really go according to plan.

Because no matter how much you acknowledged the truth of Sanji’s flirtatious disposition, it still affected you — you would still feel so warm and fuzzy inside when he smiled at you, or when those soft endearments and compliments slid past his lips, or when he’d softly stroke your elbow to announce he was passing you aboard the ship…

Everything he did made you jittery and warm.

And you fucking loathed it.

“Are you alright?” Nami’s soft voice and gentle touch to your arm broke you from your scathing thoughts, and you tore your eyes away from the events unfolding at the bar to blink at her.

“Uh, what?” You asked, a little dumbly, and the redhead’s brows furrowed a little.

“I asked if you were alright.” Nami iterated, and you took in a sharp breath, a part of you so desperately wanted to flick your eyes over to Sanji, just to see what was unfolding — but you resisted the urge, and instead forced a smile to your lips.

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Just… spacing out, I guess.”

Nami didn’t look convinced, and your heart stuttered just briefly when she glanced in the direction that you had been previously staring, and a strange sort of look shadowed her eyes. Thankfully, she didn’t say anything else, and instead took a sip of her drink. Now that you’d been pulled back into the present, you were aware of Usopp and Luffy bickering about making “subtle changes” to the Jolly Roger, and you could hear faint snores from your right — sure enough, when you turned your head in the direction, you pinpointed a sleeping Zoro nestled a few feet away from Nami. Part of you wanted to smile, but the thought that Sanji was still at the bar with that woman dulled your ability to do so.

Don’t do it, you warned yourself, but despite the seething voice in your head, you still turned your focus back to the bar, and sure enough, Sanji was still entertaining the woman.

“Jeez, all he was supposed to do was get drinks. Guess we should start sending someone else to do that from now on,” Nami huffed from beside you, and all you could do was nod numbly, because at the moment your throat felt too tight to possibly push words through. Sanji’s lips split into a beautiful smile, and moments later your ears were graced with the rumbling timbre of his laugh, and despite yourself you couldn’t help the shiver that ran down your spine from the pleasant sound. The sight of his dimples and the crinkle in the corners of his eyes made your heart stutter in your chest, and in that moment, all you wanted was for him to be looking at you like that — to be on the receiving end of that smile and those eyes once again.

Just then, in a moment that was equal parts mortifying and electrifying, Sanji turned his head and locked eyes with you; your breath caught in your throat, and for an irrational heartbeat, you swore that Sanji had somehow telepathically received your desire to be looked at and followed the command, and you wondered if your feelings of burning jealousy and desire were reflected on your face. You forced a small smile to your lips and held up your near-empty bottle in one hand while gesturing to it with the other, silently reminding Sanji of the real reason he’d went to the bar in the first place.

Sanji’s expression changed from confused to realization in seconds flat, and you watched in growing anger as he addressed the woman once more and murmured what you assumed was some sort of departing quote; then he skimmed his fingertips over the length of the woman’s forearm before he turned back to the bar and grabbed three bottles by the neck in one hand and turned on his heel to stalk back to your table.

You tore your eyes from his and downed the small bit of liquid still in your bottle; the bitter taste and satisfying burn gave your mind something else to focus on.

“Sorry about the wait, my sweets. Here are your drinks.” Sanji said smoothly, placing a sweating bottle in front of Nami and then placing one in front of you as well. You tried not to look at him, but your eyes were drawn to his long, dexterous fingers by the light shining off his ring in just the right way.

Anger stirred in your gut at the way he apologized for the wait as if it wasn’t entirely his fault. You bit your lip and brought your hand up to grip the neck of the opened bottle in lieu of yelling at the cook, and downed a few swallows as you watched Sanji take a seat just across from you. Your eyes connected briefly, and you seriously wanted to rip out your chest because of the way it bloomed with warmth.

This was going to be a long night.

————————————————————————

You giggled into the skin of Nami’s neck as you both stumbled side by side; your breath tickling her neck caused the other woman to giggle profusely as well, and walking now felt even more difficult than it had before.

Behind you, Usopp and Luffy also walked side by side with one arm slung over the other, Zoro walking not too far behind them and perfectly, irritatingly balanced — screw him and his inability to get drunk.

The leader of your merry little pack was Sanji, guiding the rest of his drunken crewmates with a confidence and swagger that only he could possess. It kind of pissed you off — but it also made you really, really warm at the same time. And a little wet, but you blamed that on the alcohol thrumming through your system. It was easier that way.

By the time you’d all made it back to the docked Going Merry, Usopp had keeled over and thrown up a total of two times, and had to pull a deadweight Luffy to their sleeping quarters. Zoro was quick to follow their lead and enter his own room, with the assertion that he was going to “get more sleep.” As if he needed more.

“You comin’ to bed?” Nami slurred at you, and you shook your head; you were drunk, yeah, but you weren’t exactly tired at the moment.

“I think I’m gonna go hang out in the galley.”

Definitely not because Sanji would more than likely be there, prepping the rations for tomorrow’s breakfast as he did every night. But by the raised brow and smirk Nami sent you, you knew that she knew that’s exactly why you were going.

“Alright, don’t have too much fun.” Nami teased with an affectionate bump of her hip, and you glared at her back as she swayed her way to your shared room. When you stumbled to the galley, Sanji was there, as you’d predicted, a towel thrown over his shoulder as he meticulously separated a myriad of fruits and vegetables and grains. When you entered, he gave you a charming smile, one that made you extremely weak in the knees. It seemed that the buzz of alcohol had taken away your previous irritation with the cook, and all you could feel now was a warm sort of fuzzy fondness for him — one that you were far too used to feeling.

“Hello, love. Looking for something?” Sanji asked, his accent tickling your ears in the most pleasant of ways. You loved his accent; it just made him all the more handsome and charming in your eyes. You returned his smile with one of your own and head shake.

“Nah, not really. Just wanted to hang in here for a few.” You said, padding as gracefully as you could to the sofa. It took some maneuvering to slip yourself behind the hanging table, but you were able to do so without too much fumbling. Getting drunk wasn’t something you indulged in often, and your lack of stability and coordination was a major factor to that, but your drunken mind was just as unstable as your physical body, and you were quite prone to mood swings — that’s what you were going to blame your next actions on, anyway.

“Jus’ like watching you do your thing. ‘S nice.” You mumbled, and the smile Sanji sent you warmed you from your head to your toes, and you didn’t even have it in you to hold back whatever could be showing through your eyes as you rested your chin in your palm and stared at him.

Sanji turned his focus back to his prep, and he worked while you watched in a companionable silence. As he worked, your mind began to race — your train of thought wasn’t exactly clear or obvious, and the track was definitely a little misshapen, but as always, it was Sanji on your mind. You watched his fingers, his face, his arms, his everything, and you just thought about him.

You thought about the soft little smiles he sent you, about the crystalline blue of his eyes, how easy it was to get lost in them. You thought of the delicate Cupid’s bow of his lips, of the way the parted and formed sentences that were perfectly articulated to muddle your brain and chest. You thought of his hands, large and warm and dexterous. Of his caring disposition, of the way he was always so attentive to the needs of his crew. Your heart felt as if it was swelling within your chest, and you had to force yourself to look away from him lest it completely explode.

But Sanji didn’t seem to understand that you were seconds away from combustion, because he had abandoned his prep in favor of leaning against the island counter straight across from you.

“Something on your mind, sweetheart? You seem lost in thought.”

You snapped your eyes up to meet his, and he was looking at you like that again; eyes soft and brows relaxed, lips pulled into that little smile — you swore it must be love on his face. You immediately became angry with yourself, and instead of answering him, you demanded,

“Why do you do that?”

Sanji looked taken aback, and his throat worked in such a tantalizing way as he swallowed a couple times, confusion written clear on his face when he spoke. Your anger was momentarily replaced by a very warm feeling in your gut.

“Why do I do what, love?”

“That. Talk to me that way.” You said, flapping your hand wildly in a gesture. Sanji’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, an action your sloshy mind couldn’t help but track and froth over. His tongue looked so soft and pink.

“Does it make you uncomfortable?” Sanji asked, and in a show of bashfulness that you’d never seen from the cook, broke eye contact to focus on his hands — which he quickly busied one by swiping imaginary dirt from the surface of the island counter he was leaning back against.

“No, not exactly.” You said, lips rather loose from the alcohol. “I just don’t get it.”

Sanji’s brows furrowed and his hand halted in its movement, and rather than waiting for him to respond to that, you began to ramble.

“I mean, it’s just confusing for me. You look at me in this way, and you talk to me like that, all gentle and kind, and it makes me feel special and like I mean something to you.”

Sanji was beginning to look a little bit uncomfortable, but at the moment, your brain only had the capacity to really take your own feelings into consideration — and right now, what you were feeling was confusion and anger, and you needed the answer as to why. So you rose from your seat, knocking your hip into the edge of the hanging table as you did so, but even the shock of pain lacing through your abdomen wasn’t enough to stop your advance. When you were only inches from the man, you rose your hand in a fist and pushed an accusing finger into his chest.

“And you even had me feeling like maaaaybe you felt the same way as me, but was that true? Noooo.” Vivid memories of the night in the galley, when you’d first wondered if what you felt was reciprocated, flew through your mind painfully. You knew your words were slurred and groggy, and you knew you were spilling everything right now, but damn it, it just wasn’t fair.

“It’s not true, and I know it’s not, because you act the same way towards every pair of legs you come across. I-I ju-just—”

You’d started off strong, or as strongly as you could given your drunken state, but now there were tears in your eyes, words cut off by a wet sob, and the anger in your chest had been replaced by a heavy pain. Desperation clawed your mind fiercely, and you just needed to know.

“I’ve been torn ever since we met — I don’t want to feel this way, but you always manage to give me that hope, only to t-take it a-away again. J-just tell me Sanji, please — tell it to me straight, because I’m going crazy!”

Sanji was completely silent, his lips parted in a small ‘o’ as he stared at you with wide eyes. Your finger was still stuck to his chest, and you pulled it back quickly when you noticed, but you kept your eyes fixed on his in a weak glare.

After what felt like an eternity of silence, Sanji’s eyes softened and his shoulders slumped with the force of the breathy laugh he released. Sanji hung his head, the laughter still bubbling from his throat. You took a small step back at the reaction, confused and heated with something akin to embarrassment, and the courage that the alcohol had given you seemed to have leaked out at some point, because now all you wanted to do was run; answers be damned.

When Sanji glanced back up at you, bright eyes slightly obscured by wisps of blonde hair, your heart skipped a beat; the smile on his face was small but genuine, and when he spoke, his voice sounded halfway exasperated and half way relieved.

“I’ve been pretty stupid, haven’t I, love?”

Now it was your turn to be confused. You knew you looked a lot like a fish, what with your eyes wide and your lips soundlessly flapping, but your throat just couldn’t produce any sound — and that ability was further stunted when Sanji gripped your wrists in his large, warm hands. Using the gentlest of tugs, Sanji pulled you forward until your nose bumped into the broad expanse of his chest, and his hands released your wrists in favor of sliding down to grip your hips softly.

Your entire body froze, skin buzzing and mind drawing blank, and the only thing you could really focus on was the rise and fall of Sanji’s chest, his warmth, the spicy cedar of his cologne, and the hold he had you in.

“Oh, darling… I’m sorry. I never even noticed…” Sanji cooed to you, chin grazing against the top of your head as he did so, and you were definitely about to spontaneously combust right there in the galley. You couldn’t speak, couldn’t moved couldn’t do anything else aside from simply short circuit in Sanji’s arms.

“I’m just flirty by nature, love, that much is true.” Sanji said, and he gently pushed you back only far enough so he could hook a finger beneath your chin and tilt your head up. Your lips were now a hairsbreadth from his, so close that you could feel every undulation of his breathing. Your heart flipped and twisted in your chest, and your skin heated, your gut tightening in a mix of anxiety and arousal that left your mind reeling.

“But all those other pairs of legs, they’ve got nothing on you. You’re the only girl I’ve got eyes for.”

Finally, you found your ability to speak — but your words were still very weak, dampened by a mixture of utter confusion and disbelief. There was no way this was happening, right?

“If I’m the only girl you have eyes for, why do you flirt with every one you see?”

Sanji’s smile was wide and dimpled, crinkling the corners of his eyes in that way that always sent your belly aflutter, and you could feel more than hear his words —

“Because I didn’t know the girl I had eyes for had eyes for me, too.”

#opla #opla x reader #Sanji #opla Sanji #opla Sanji x reader #Sanji x reader #x reader

671 notes · View notes

calummss · 9 months

Text

20 Reasons To Love You | Klaus Mikaelson

part one: 1920s Love : masterlist

summary: after your encounter with the original vampire, he asks you to the school dance. your salvatore cousins try to get in the way but you’re tired of being protected. you are starting to like the so called original vampire, but is it an illusion or the real deal

pairing: fem! reader x klaus mikaelson

words: 3.1k

a/n: part 2 is finally out. i love this piece so much because just like the first the reader is confident but unsure at the same time and i think that accurate describes me and many others. here’s to my fellow klaus mikaelson lover that love him as much as i do (not possible). enjoy!!

‘I’m here to take you to the 1920s, love.’

You stood at the door, too many words racing through your mind.

‘I don’t have a dress, I— well I never expected to go so I never bought a dress.” You sighed, each word becoming more airy as you managed to take him in. ‘I don’t have a dress…’

Dark blonde hair, pink plush lips, a white suit that fit him like a second skin. He was handsome. More handsome than you’d ever say out loud, the rumours of his behaviour and actions not scaring you, but making you tone down any infatuation that could be drawn out.

‘I thought it best you’d wear an actual dress from your decade,’ He nodded one of his witches over, his arms engulfed around a light pink box, a white ribbon decorating it. ‘I saved this for a special occasion.’ He smiled at you. ‘I think today is it.’

‘Original?’

‘Original.’

‘Oh, I couldn’t,’ your eyes never left the box, ‘I would ruin it. It’s too precious.’

He gave his witch another silent order who pushed past you to walk into the house.

‘Hello?’ You shouted at her but she was long gone.

Klaus took a closer step, so close the smell of his perfume hit you softly, ‘Do me a favour and wear it, darling. You could only do it justice. We don’t have much time now. Change.’

‘But—‘

‘No buts.’

‘Fine,’ you sighed as you took hold of the dress box, your cheeks starting you shake the apples of your cheeks, smiling ear to ear as you finally held it in your hands. ‘Wait for me.’

‘Do you even have to ask, love?’

Returning a smile you hurried away, the dress screaming to be worn as you couldn’t believe that your frame would wear something so beautiful and of such good quality from decades ago. A decade that had long been your favourite. Wearing a piece of history, brought to you by a vampire everyone seemed terrified out of their minds.

When you finally got the dress on and fixed your hair as well as jewellery, you headed back downstairs. Your heels carrying you differently; at least you thought. Klaus still stood by the entrance outside, eyeing something in the front yard.

‘How do I look?’ You called out, his head turning in an instant.

‘Like the sparkles of an ocean on an early summer morning.’

Your heart fluttered. Never had you heard anything so romantic. Whenever you asked someone they simply said pretty. Barely paying attention to the way you looked but Klaus, Klaus looked at you like a canvas. Paying attention to every detail like he was an artist, captivated by his creation. Ready to hang it up to admire it all year around.

Arriving at Mystic Falls High School you already saw that the grounds had empty liquor bottles laying on the ground, waiting for someone to trip over. You almost were a victim. As for the people in this crowded area, they reminded you of the beer bottles: empty and pretty useless. But they were carefree; unaware of the reality that was Mystic Falls.

Every girl looked similar. All wore short flapper dresses and headbands only the colours differentiating them from one another. They looked beautiful but repeativness got boring fast. You however shined. A white satin gown, thin straps, insinuating your chest, the fabric gently hugging your curves as it pooled at your feet. Paired with a beautiful pearl necklace and a white fur scarf that completed the look. Simple but classy.

Walking up towards the entrance, you locked eyes with a certain someone you tried to ignore the entirety of the evening, but he saw you. The glare in his eyes causing you to stop in your tracks, his raven hair that blended into the night coming closer.

‘Didn’t expect to see you here, Damon.’ You mused, your right arm hooked with Klaus’, your other hand on his shoulder as you smiled at Damon.

‘Go home.’ Damon stated, his eyes drilling holes into your soul.

‘You don’t get to tell me what to do.’

‘Actually I can,’ he smirked, his stupid grin spreading heat through your limbs. ‘I am your legal guardian.’

‘Only ‘cause you killed Uncle Zach,’ you snapped, taking your arms from Klaus’ body, stepping closer to Damon, asserting yourself against him. ‘Not very guardian like?’

Damon’s head scanned the surrounding area, making sure no one could listen in. ‘Don’t cause a scene, Y/n.’

‘Don’t patronise me.’

‘Again,’ he tried suppressing his voice, ‘don’t cause a scene and go home.’

‘No.’ You snapped. ’I am going to my school dance which by the way I have more of a right to be at than you, and enjoy dancing with my date.’

‘Date from hell…’

‘Well then he isn’t much different from you after all,’ you placed your arms back in Niklaus’ arm, giving Damon a sarcastic smile. ‘Move.’

Damon didn’t move, instead he stepped closer, his eyes continuing to stay on you, his lips pressed together.

‘You heard the lady,’ Klaus said. You didn’t look at his face but you could tell he was smirking at Damon. ‘Move, Damon.’

Klaus and you stepped past Damon, walking towards the entrance, the music increasing in volume as you stepped through the door.

Down in the gym, people were already dancing. Music blasting through the room, balloons, tinsel and much more of the decorations the walls and floor carried that you dragged yourself to every Tuesday and Thursday, dreading to move. Rather wanting to participate in every girl’s favourite subjects: English and history. Walking towards the dance floor you saw Damon walking up to Alaric, their eyes on you as soon as Damon whispered something and you knew that their eyes would follow your every move.

‘What are they saying?’ You asked Klaus, your eyes still on the pair as you started swaying in rhythm. Bodies close as you felt the warmth of his body.

‘Talking about various ways to ruin our night and all the ways they can kill me.’

You pushed your tongue against your teeth, staring straight ahead into Klaus’ shoulder. ‘Damon, I know you can hear me,’ you started to whisper. ‘Leave me and my dating life alone. I’m 19 years old, not six. And don’t you dare try to ignore me or roll your stupid blue eyes at me because I will rip that little smug of your face.’ You turned around to see Alaric and Damon go towards the punch table, visibly irritated on your behalf yet still they took the hint and backed off for now.

‘I knew there was a reason I liked you.’

‘Sorry?’

‘Don’t hold back on my account.’ He chimed. ‘Feisty women are my weakness.’

‘I’m feisty?’ Not a word generally used to describe you.

‘Hmm, also confident; unsure; great company; an amazing dancer and best of all, not intimidated by me since the second you met me and found out who I was.’

You hesitated before speaking. Was it rude to ask such an invasive question? Would he answer it? Would it spark his mood to change?

‘Why is everyone so afraid of you?’ You asked in a careful tone, not sure if the vampire would switch up on you.

‘I do terrible things.’

‘People do terrible things all the time.’

‘I created new sins.’ His deep eyes gazed at you, his soft plumpish lips leaving every word ingrained into your mind, begging to know what his lips would feel like lingered onto yours.

‘Such as…?’

‘Let’s not get into it, love.’

‘I can handle it.’ You separated your body from his, staring up at him. ‘I have heard what you have done but I’ve also seen your actions: listening to me, talking to me and making me feel interesting, getting me a dress to a school dance I wasn’t planning on going to.’ You smiled slightly. ‘That takes a heart to do.’ You placed your hands above his chest, tapping lightly with an almost jestful tone. ‘And you have a pretty strong one.’

Klaus gazed at you ever so gently, his eyes flickered to your lips as his mind turned hungry at the thought of your kiss. Not craving the taste of warm blood, freshly pumped out of a human vein. No. He craved you in a way that was unfamiliar to him. Klaus wanted you to be close to him, to feel your heartbeat so close it would beat in union with his. To feel your lips on his skin, the taste of your skin without the blood. The thought of tasting your blood left an uncertain feeling in his stomach; quease mixed with disdain. He didn’t want to hurt you or leave a scratch on your skin. All he wanted was the moisture of his lips to sit upon your skin. Light, gently, accepted.

The sound of music faded when you realised you were leaning in. His eyes felt like paralysing poison as you inched closer. Your heart beat in your throat when his face came closer too. He too wanted this. You could feel his breath ricocheting off your face, and when your lips met the music stopped. His lips kissed you gently, coming back for more as one his hands slid towards your face, holding you delicately as the other went down to your back to support you. Your hands moved to his head, grabbing a handful of hair as you parted your lips to let him get a better taste of you. Your mind was blank, your stomach filled to the brim with butterflies that duplicated every second he was touching you; flattering their tiny wings as the space to move began to decrease. Every kiss grew more passionate. Air was flowing out, barely catching breath as he felt like the air you were supposed to breathe all along.

Separating from his touch you let yourself breathe, your chest falling and rising as you held his eyes, too beautiful to be true. Eyes that belonged to a killer that just held you like you were the most delicate flower.

‘Can we go somewhere more quiet?’ You leaned in, your social battery slowly decreasing as you craved a quiet and still place to be with him.

Klaus brought you to his mansion he bought a few weeks ago, saying he was to stay in Mystic Falls for a while. His house was filled with artworks of the most incredible artists. Each piece crafted to perfection.

Guiding you to a back room you took notice of different materials and colours. Canvases and easels to hold them up. One painting was finished by the look of your eyes. It stood on an easel in the middle of the room, close to a candle light that shined just enough to admire the painting.

‘May I speak out loud my interpretation of this painting?’ Your eyes scanned the framed piece, the candle gently casting a light above the painting. ‘I know that artists want to be understood as they pour their thoughts and feelings onto the canvas, yet someone else saying out loud what the artist was too cautious to say themselves, can evoke an uncomfortableness. That someone truly understands them is more often an artist's greatest fear.’

Klaus stood by your right shoulder, silently gazing at his painting from behind your frame. His silence, his breath, made you turn your head to the side. Just enough to catch his breath on your cheek, just enough to let the corner of your mouth tip curl, allowing you to feel his intimacy.

‘I suppose the painter felt lonely whilst crafting their piece. The way dark colours engulf the lighter ones. The way the colours meet but never mix,’

His hand gently brushed along the curve of your shoulder, giving you the insight of Klaus’ guard let down when he was immersed in his art.

‘Careful and precise strokes show me the delicacy behind the fragile thoughts that are meant to be the painter’s release. The small firefly, so tiny its illuminating glow is barely caught with the first impression of the painting, is fascinating to me. Despite the painter’s sadness and pain, there must have been something in the moment that compelled them to leave behind something so coruscating. Something tells me that the painter is trying to find their way. Whether it be to themselves or to someone.’

‘The way you analyse art, Y/n, is beautiful. Has anyone ever told you that?‘

‘I suppose I find beauty in darkness quite fascinating…painting or painter,’ you placed your gloved hand on top of his. The warmth of his skin pervasively fighting through the silk fabric.

‘The firefly I must admit is you. You are the firefly in my thoughts. You glow amongst the darkest part of my mind. Just the mere thought of you makes me feel like I am a different man even if I don’t want to change…’

You turned around and gave Klaus a sweet but quick kiss. ‘You don’t have to change. I like you for who you are and I must admit, this night has made me realise just how much I actually like you. It feels fast but safe at the same time.’

Klaus returned it with another kiss. ‘Normally I like a chase but I simply need to be yours.’

‘Would you ever draw me?’ An innocent question, soft- eyed waiting for a response. A small smile sweeping across his face.

‘I actually already have,’ he said, his cheeks a fair rosé, barely noticeable to anyone who didn’t pay attention but you, how you took notice of every detail that made him him.

‘You have?’ You grinned. ‘Why?’

‘I mostly paint things that mean a lot to me,’ he took a look at his paintings. ‘Mostly landscapes…and you…’

It warmed your heart but you didn’t show, only the palm of your hand pressing into your other, love overflowing your body.

‘I suppose one day I should return the favour, though I cannot promise you’ll look anything like the real you.’

Klaus let out a laugh, his eyes smiling like the crescent moon of night that shone over his garden outside. Eyes sparkling like the stars.

‘Would you like another dance outside?’ He asked, noticing your longing look at the porch, illuminated by fairy lights that left a magical feeling within you.

‘I certainly would.’

Holding out your hand you followed him outside, the slight cold breeze nothing but relaxing as you swayed with Klaus again. This time it felt nicer. Alone, just the two, surrounded by nothing but darkness and crickets of the summer night giving your silence a nice touch of tone.

‘I want to give you something,’ Klaus searched for something in his pocket. When he finally pulled it out he continued to say, ‘This vial contains vampire blood.’

You stared at the vile, red liquid calming floating behind the glass.

‘It’s my brother Elijah’s blood.’

Doe eyed and furrowed eyebrows stared back at him, ‘Why not yours?’

‘If I could, trust me I would. For a vampire there’s nothing worse than blood sharing with someone’s partner,’ he held your gaze. ‘But if I gave you my blood, little one, you would die.’

‘I don’t understand? Why would I die?’

‘Well here’s some information only my family and one witch know…I’m a vampire and a werewolf. A hybrid. If I were to feed you my blood you would die the next day. Bad blood.’

‘Oh,’ disappointment covered your words, weirdly enough bummed that it wasn’t Klaus’ blood you would be carrying around to protect you in case you needed it.

‘This blood is here for whenever you decide you want that change in your life you talked about.’ Klaus’ finger grazed against the skin of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. ‘I like you, Y/n and I won’t compel you to take it. I like you and if I could I would spend eternity with you. I know it hasn’t been long but you feel good for me.’

Your lips caught his. ‘Of course I will wear it.’

‘Make sure to keep it safe.’

‘I will.’ You hand found his face, giving in once more into temptation, his sensation too good for you.

You played with the vial between your fingers, a wave of warmth rushing over you as you realised just how much you liked Klaus. But as much as you liked him it was getting late…

‘I think it’s best that I go home. It is late and Damon and Stefan are probably going crazy…’

‘I’ll take you home.’

Klaus dropped you off just before the door, watching as you safely entered the Salvatore house. And before the door even closed you could hear Damon’s taunting voice echoing through the halls of the boarding house.

‘Where have you been?’

‘With my date.’ You carelessly threw the keys to the side, walking past Damon to try and get into the kitchen to get something to drink.

‘You can’t date him, Y/n.’ Damon growled, his eyebrows pulled to his eyes as his voice grew louder. ‘He’s a bad person.’

‘Who cares?’ You uttered, pouring yourself a drink as you watched Damon pace towards you.

‘I care!’

‘Since when?!’

‘Since always!’

‘Damon,’ You breathed. ‘I love you, I truly do but are you so blind to not realise that you too are a bad person? You used Caroline; killed Lexi, Stefan’s only friend; Uncle Zach? Why can those actions be excused by literally everyone yet apparently Klaus is where we all draw the line huh?’ Words spilled from your lips as the pit in your stomach started to burn a ball of annoyance. ‘Because he shows no remorse at all? Newsflash neither did you and just because you feel it now doesn't make your actions any more excused. I like the way he is. I like the fact that he is a bad person but a good person to me. Someone that finally pays attention to me!’

Damon stayed quiet, his face obvious to the hypocrisy that everyone was participating in yet he was still angry at you and the fact that you were capable of making your own decisions no matter how bad or good they were.

‘If he hurts you don’t come crying to me,’ Damon turned around to walk away.

‘Oh please as soon as I cry because of anyone that person ends up hurt. If you’re trying to pretend not to care about me, good luck.’

‘You wish.’

‘Ah fuck,’ you whinced, a wave of pain shooting through your finger.

Damon’s vampire speed brought his feet back to you, your hand in his as he took a look at what pained you.

‘Told you so,’ you mocked.

‘Ass hat.’

1K notes · View notes

multifanhoe99 · 7 months

Text

Kinktober Day 15- Vampire

Pairings: Vampire!Yuta x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Pet names (love, darling), biting, blood drinking, mentions of character death, mention of suicide, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of pain, main character death technically.

=Let me know if I missed any.=

18+ MDNI

PROMPT LIST

MASTERLIST

No one ever said that being a vampire's mate was going to be glamorous but, with him it was. Yuta made every day feel like a whole new adventure. You weren't expecting it to happen either it just did. In fact, when you first met him you had hated him. You thought that he was pompous and arrogant, which in your defence, was the act he and the rest of the NCT clan were putting on to keep people away. You would have stayed away too but, Yuta was drawn to you from the moment you met. Back then you were so annoyed that he wouldn't leave you alone but now, you wished he never had to leave your side.

Yuta was actually very sweet and he'd never hurt anyone who didn't deserve it. The two of you have now been together for years. He was so drawn to you because you were his mate. The reincarnation of someone he had thought he lost centuries ago. He was so happy to have found you again. You were happy to have found the most loving and supportive partner in Yuta. As the years go by though you can't help the feeling of wanting him to turn you. You knew it was a sensitive subject for him because the change was a painful experience and he never wanted to see you in pain. He was also worried that you would not like the life of living as a vampire. What if you hated it so much that you decide to end your immortal life and then he has to wait centuries again for you to reincarnate. Which, in all fairness, is exactly what happened last time.

You knew that this was what you wanted though. You wanted this life with him forever despite having to go through immense pain to do it. Every now and then you would ask him and beg him to turn you and every time he would refuse. You think you were starting to wear him down though. Finally, on the night of your anniversary, you brought up a great point that had him genuinely considering it.

"Yuta," you said, "I know you are worried, especially after the last time but, I want this. I want forever with you and, if you don't turn me at some point I will just grow old and die anyway." He had not thought that far ahead. He was so focused on keeping you from harm and if he was being honest he was trying to keep himself from the heartbreak. Nothing hurts more than losing your mate not even death. He thought he was going to be alone for the rest of his life the pain was so bad that he considered ending himself as well that is, until he met you. He couldn't do it again not when fate gave him a second chance. He never stopped to think about your humanity. He somehow forgot that eventually you would grow old and die anyway. He couldn't have that either. So, he decided that he would finally grant your request. He would turn you and if what happened last time happened again he would not be far to join you in whatever afterlife awaits vampires but, at least he would not have to deal with the pain of losing his mate again.

Luckily, your anniversary was the perfect time to go through with this plan. He had a romantic dinner planned and dessert by the fireplace in his room. You wore the most beautiful dress and he couldn't help but hope that everything went well tonight so that he could spend moments like this with you for the rest of forever.

"My love," Yuta said getting your attention, "I thought about what you said earlier. You're right and I realized that I was so focused on one negative outcome that I didn't think about what would happen if I didn't turn you. I think I am ready and I figured tonight was the perfect night to give you what you've been asking for."

"Really? Are you sure? I would understand if you need more time," you said.

"I am sure. I can't wait another moment to start my forever with you," he said. He leaned in to kiss you. The kiss started off gentle and sweet then, quickly it became more heated. Tongues exploring each other hands roaming. One of his hands on your breast and the other up your dress to knead your ass. You had moved to straddle hip both hands in his hair as your hips ground down into his. He breaks away from your mouth to leave hot kisses down the side of your neck. He then stands able to carry you to the bed as if you weigh nothing. He lays you down and climbs over you.

"Let me help you out of this darling," he says while pulling your dress up and over your head to get you out of it. He groans at the sight of you. No matter how many times he sees you naked he still has to admire every bit of you like it was the first time lest he forget. You knew it'd be a good idea to forego wearing underwear tonight and you were right because tonight Yuta was not going to be a patient lover. So much so that he practically tore his own clothes off at the sight of you.

"Let me just make sure you're properly ready for me my love," he said leaning down to attach his mouth to your folds. Yuta was always good with his tongue but, he was especially good tonight. He was like a man starved and honestly, you are pretty sure he was. You had your hands in his hair gripping tightly when he did something you especially liked.

"Ah, yes," you moaned, "Keep doing that my love and I will cum." At your words, he doubled down his efforts. He wanted to please you now so that you could cum again when he was inside you. The best way to turn your mate is when you cum together. It is not the way it has to be done, technically you just have to drink his blood but, it was always better if you fed from each other while at the height of your peaks. Plus, it distracts slightly from the excruciating pain that follows. It did not take long for him to have you throwing your head back and pulling his hair as you came. The sounds of your moans were music to his ears. When you finally returned to reality he shifted you again so that he was now sitting propped up against the pillows and you were straddling him once again.

"Ride me, my love," he begs, "It'll be easier this way for the both of us." He didn't have to tell you twice. You reached down for his hard cock and lined it up with your entrance. It was soaked with the combination of your cum and his saliva. You sat and eased him in but, you were so wet it was not much of a struggle to get him inside of you quickly. You both moaned as the last few inches slid in and he was perfectly sheathed inside of you. When you were ready you started moving. Bouncing on top of him as fast as you could go. It felt amazing but, apparently, it was not fast enough for Yuta who soon disrupted your rhythm with his own. His superhuman speed was a blessing though. It was feeling so good and you were getting close again. Then he started to slow down.

Before you could complain he said, "Are you ready? We'll cum together and when we do I will bite you and you will need to drink my blood too. I am warning you now the pain afterward when the change starts is unbearable. It will feel like all your blood has turned into molten lava, then you won't be able to breathe, finally, your heart will stop and when you wake up you will feel like you've just been in the desert for months without water."

You appreciated the warning and knew it wouldn't be easy but you were willing to take that chance. You replied, "I am ready."

With your confirmation, he continued his pace from before. One of his hands reached down to play with your clit and the other went up to his own neck to make a long cut on the side for you to feed from him. He was so very close and with all the stimulation so were you.

"On the count of three," Yuta said, "One....two....three...cum for me darling that's it." You both latched onto each other's necks. He bit into yours and that had you coming undone. He came less than a second later the taste of your blood threw him over the edge. You weren't expecting his blood to taste so sweet. After a few seconds you released one another's neck and he laid you down to make you as comfortable as possible.

"I will be right here with you every step of the way, my love," he said, "When you awake, we can officially begin forever together." He kept true to his word. He never left your side throughout the whole experience. When you finally awoke, he was still right there beside you.

"Shall we get dressed and get something to drink darling," he asks.

"Please," you said still managing to smile through the hunger.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Holy cow! I don't know about y'all but, this was so hot to me. I have a vampire thing though so it's probably mostly that but, it could also be because it is specifically vampire!Yuta and I am all for it. Let it be known though that if a lovely anon didn't request this I was absolutely going to write Vampire!Hongjoong because yes. So, if you wanna see that let me know and I will absolutely write that up.

#kinktober 2023 #kinktober #x reader #k pop smut #nct smut #nct 127 smut #yuta nakamoto #yuta smut #yuta x reader #nct yuta #nct yuta smut #nct

153 notes · View notes

simplyholl · 1 year

Text

New Year’s Eve

Summary: You have been in a situationship with Loki for a while, but he refuses to kiss you.

Pairing: Avenger Loki x F Avenger Reader

Warnings: Smut. 18+ ONLY. Minors DNI. Orgasm denial. A little angst, but it has a happy ending.

W/C: 2.3K

See my Masterlist here

I reluctantly pull Loki’s satin green sheets off me. We only have ten minutes before our weekly meeting. Loki is getting dressed. I stay in bed, not wanting to leave the warmth. I wish these meetings didn’t start so early, especially when we have been up all night. Round three quickly turned into round four, then our alarm woke us from our short slumber.

“Loki, why do you never kiss me?” I didn’t mean for the one question that haunts me to slip out. It must be my lack of sleep. He laces his boots slowly weaving the strings before answering. “If I’m not mistaken, I spent a large portion of the night kissing you.” He lifts an eyebrow smirking at me. “You know that’s not what I meant. Every time we hook up, you avoid it.”

“It’s not you. I never kiss the women I sleep with.” The question had been on my mind for some time. Loki was more than willing to do many, many things in bed, but I never even got a peck on the lips. We have a good thing right now, so I don’t want to make him uncomfortable and ruin it. We have been in a situationship for a while now.

We sleep together a few times a week to let off some steam from all the training and missions. The other days we are free to do whatever and whoever we want. It might be a little unconventional, but it works for us. We always give each other a heads up if we will be taking someone else home. Loki has been known to get jealous. If I have a guy over, the next time I’m with Loki, I won’t be able to walk right for a week.

I’m a glutton for punishment, so sometimes I will invite someone over to watch movies and insinuate more happened. My reward- I mean punishment- makes putting up with all these lame guys worth it. Tonight is our holiday party. Tony always throws a huge banger the week before Christmas to celebrate. Loki has already informed me that he will be taking the bleach blonde woman grinding all over him home tonight.

I’ve already searched the party for any potential men to bring home with me, but I come up short. I’ll just spend the night drinking with Natasha. She leans in lowering her voice so no one else will hear her. “Did you hear who Thor hooked up with last week?” I shake my head no, curious to learn the latest gossip. She knows everything about everyone. “That girl that works in the lab. You know, short hair and the longest legs you’ve ever seen?” “Oh yeah, she is so cute!” I take a sip of my drink looking around the party. “She has been obsessed with him. Tony told me she’s shown up at Thor’s room every night trying to sleep with him again, but he just wanted a one-night thing. Poor girl, those Asgardians must be something else in bed. Right Y/N, you would know?”

I stopped paying attention to her story. I’m too distracted by Loki. His hands fondle the blonde woman’s ass while she suggestively dances against him. He leans down, pressing his lips to hers. His hands tangle in her hair. It’s not a small kiss, there is some major saliva swapping happening. They continue groping each other and making out for what feels like an eternity. When they finally pull apart, I try not to look. But I’m drawn to them like a magnet.

Loki notices me staring. He doesn’t even look remorseful. He just grabs her face and goes in for more. Why am I so upset? We are just having fun, no strings. So why do I feel so jealous? Why won’t he kiss me like that?

I decide it’s not a good idea to bring it up. I’ve seen him with two other women since then, so he’s probably forgotten all about the kiss. I brought a guy home that I had every intention of sleeping with. But he talked about how hot Natasha is the whole time. He even asked me for her number. So, I made him leave. Loki saw him, so tonight should be fun for me.

Loki arrives promptly at ten, just like we agreed on. His lust filled eyes drink me in. I am wearing a silky forest green robe with gold trimming, nothing underneath. “Bed now.” He growls. “Take that robe off. You are unfit to wear my colors after you had that pathetic excuse for a man in here. Did he touch you?” I quickly remove my robe revealing my naked body to him.

“Do not make me ask again, pet.” His voice is low making me needy for him. I lay on the bed watching as he rids himself of his clothes. “Yes, I let him touch me.” I lie. Loki’s eyes darken as he climbs on the bed with me. He smiles wickedly as my arms are suddenly tied to my bed post. I pull on the silk ties magically holding me in place.

“You will not come until I give my permission. Do you understand?” I nod in agreement, but it’s not enough for him. “Use your words.” “Yes, I understand.” He kisses roughly down the curve of my neck. Sharp teeth scrape against my sensitive skin. He palms my breasts, lowering his head, he takes a pebbled nipple between his lips. I arch underneath him, wishing the restraints were gone. He tugs my other nipple roughly between his fingers. He licks and sucks his way down between my legs. My thighs are spread revealing all of me to him.

He bites my thigh hard. I cry out, while he lavishes gentle kisses to the wound. I can see his teeth marks on the reddened skin. I whimper. He’s usually not so cruel in the bedroom. He licks a stripe up my center. I squirm under his touch. His brutal actions are turning me on, more than I’d like to admit. His tongue explores me, swirling against my slick folds.

He inserts two fingers hooking upward. Soft lips close around my bundle of nerves. He suckles me while his fingers continue their vicious assault. “Loki, I’m so clo… can I c..” Before I can fall off the precipice, he removes himself from me. I whine his name. He lines himself up with my center, entering me swiftly. I moan loudly trying to reach for him, momentarily forgetting my tied hands.

“You let him touch what is mine.” He thrusts aggressively. “Mine. You forget who you belong to. Who this body belongs to.” I’m so close already. He reaches between us. His skilled fingers find my clit. “Tell me who owns you. Say you are mine.” I almost explode from his words alone. He can be possessive, but this is new, angry. “I’m yours, Loki. Only yours. I’m so close. Please let me come.” He removes his fingers from me, gripping my thigh. He thrusts harder. “No.” His rejection rings in my ears. It stings, he’s never refused to let me come before. “So good. Always perfect. Mine.” He murmurs against my neck as he spills inside me.

He pulls out, waving his hand releasing me from the ties. He rubs my arms in the places where I was restrained, placing gentle kisses to each wrist. He pulls me in his lap. I lay my head against his broad chest listening to his heart beat. I sigh loudly letting him hear my frustration. “Fret not, little one. I will allow your pleasure next time.” My eyes meet his. He is so handsome like this, flushed cheeks and wild hair. My gaze travels to his lips. How unfair that I will never feel them against my own.

Loki’s thumb grazes my bottom lip. His eyes flicker from his thumb on my lips to my eyes. I lean into him, but he pulls away. “I can’t. I am sorry.” I climb out of his lap, no longer wanting to be near him. I pull the sheet up covering myself. I feel exposed, used. He must feel the tension between us now. He stands up, grabbing his clothes. He dresses quickly. “I’ll take my leave now. Goodnight.” As soon as the door shuts, I throw all the blankets over me. I can’t help the tears spilling. My feelings are hurt. I was rejected, denied an orgasm, and I’ve realized I’m in love with him.

It's Avengers Game Night which usually includes playing board games until everyone is drunk. Then the activities quickly turn into Would You Rather and Truth or Dare. Those are always my favorites and there have been a few times the results have led to a hookup or three. Tonight is no different. Tony answers Natasha’s question inquiring how many people he’s slept with.

Loki chooses dare. Wanda places a finger to her chin, humming. “I dare you to kiss Y/N.” Laughter and oohs erupt amongst the group. My heart is going to beat out of my chest. I know she’s only trying to be a good friend and help me out. But I wish she wouldn’t. It’s no secret that Loki and I sleep together sometimes, but Wanda and Natasha are the only ones who know about his aversion to kissing me.

I look at Loki expectantly. He doesn’t move at all. “I will not.” he says defiantly, crossing his arms across his chest. Everyone is staring at me. I smile weakly pretending his words didn’t slice my heart in two. “Come on, Loki. You’ve bed her before. What is another kiss between you?” Thor defends me. Loki rolls his eyes at him. “Mind yourself, brother. I said no.”

I’m thinking of running out of this room, out of Avengers tower. I have to leave before I die of embarrassment. I rub my sweaty hands on my jeans, looking around for my phone before I take off. “If you won’t kiss her, I will.” Steve smiles sweetly at me. I know he is just being noble, saving the damsel in distress. He walks toward me, taking my hand in his. I stand up to face him. He places my stray hair behind my ear. His fingers rub my cheek while he leans in. He is a better kisser than I expected. His hands grab my waist pulling me closer as he deepens the kiss. “Okay Cap, that’s enough. We don’t want to see you humping her leg.” Tony jokes. I give Steve a quick hug and whisper thank you.

Natasha gets my attention pointing to thew hallway where Loki is stomping away from everyone. I run after him. “Hey Loki, wait up.” He doesn’t turn around. “Loki?” he continues walking. I follow him to his room. “I know you can hear me. What is wrong with you?” He finally acknowledges me. “Nothing is wrong with me. What’s the matter with you? The captain? That is who you want now?” He opens his door, strutting in with the intent to slam it in my face. I push my way through and enter his room.

“Are you seriously mad that Steve kissed me? This is ridiculous. You won’t kiss me! And I have tried. Your whole thing about ‘I never kiss women I sleep with’ is such shit. I saw you making out with that woman a few weeks ago. Everyone did! You were tongue fucking her face in front of everybody, but you won’t give me a quick kiss in private! You just turned me down in front of the whole team.

Do you know how embarrassing that was for me? Steve stepped up to help me out, and you’re mad at me? You have absolutely no right to be angry. I can’t do this anymore. I’m tired of it being okay for you to enjoy the company of others, but if I do, you’re insanely jealous. I’m sick of constantly wondering what is wrong with me. What is so bad, that you don’t want to kiss me?” “I have nothing to say to you.” Loki looks down at his feet. I gawk at him in disbelief. I can’t leave fast enough. I make sure to slam the door behind me.

It's New Year’s Eve, exactly four days since my fight with Loki. I’m at another party, wishing I would’ve stayed home. It’s almost midnight, all the couples are standing close waiting for the ball to drop. I decide I need to leave. I weave my way through the crowd when I bump into Loki. “Y/N, I was looking for you.” “Save it, Loki I don’t want to hear it. I’m still so mad at you. You could have given me a quick peck on the lips the other night. I wouldn’t have tried to make it more. You really hurt my feelings.” I try to push past him, but he grabs my wrist keeping me in place.

“That is precisely the problem. I would have wanted more. I always want more with you. You honestly think I don’t want to kiss you? It’s all I think about, you frustrating woman. I chose not to kiss you while I sleep with you because I thought it would be easier to not fall in love. I was wrong. I have fought it for so long. I have been trying to make you jealous, but you don’t seem to mind. Seeing you with Rogers struck a nerve. It made me realize I love you. It’s always been you.”

Big hands cradle my face. All around us, people are counting down ‘Three Two One Happy New Year!’ He tilts my chin up. His lips melt against mine. Hungry in a way I’ve never known, he deepens the kiss. His tongue explores my mouth, tangling with mine. He sucks my bottom lip before pulling away. “I love you too, Loki. You should have told me sooner.” His smile reaches his eyes. “Better late than never, darling.”

Tags

@fictive-sl0th @lokisgoodgirl @lokidbadguy @ozymdias @potter-puff007 @cakesandtom @cake-writes @eleniblue @trojanaurora @marygoddessofmischief @coldnique @lemonadygirl @chantsdemarins

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki x yn #loki smut #loki x yn smut #loki x reader smut #new years eve

561 notes · View notes

frvnkcastles · 1 year

Note

hi bestie i have a fic request if you’re taking them :) one where frank and reader have been seriously dating for a while and they’ve both started to think about marriage but haven’t discussed it together. so i’m thinking frank asks out of the blue after being nervous and acting weird for a couple days, he says something like “i ain’t asking yet, but if i asked you to marry me, would you say yes?”

but if you’re not taking requests or if this doesn’t inspire you, please disregard and have a super nice day!! 🥰🌷🌟

NEVER BE ALONE AGAIN ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: When your friend’s wedding comes up, Frank is convinced he wants one with you.

Warnings: Mentions of loss, mostly just fluff, feminine nicknames

Word count: 2k

Author’s note: This was actually a half-finished fic I had written a few years ago and this request inspired me to adapt it a little bit and finish it :) I hope you like it <3 I would marry this man in a heartbeat.

Ever since your and Frank’s two friends had announced they were getting married, he had been rewinding back to how it had felt for him. The domesticity, the joy of calling his wife, well, his wife; the relief of having someone by his side through thick and thin. That last part still rang true for him — you were his rock as he was yours, and it was for that reason that he reflected upon his first marriage with fondness and nostalgia, instead of the usual misery and regret. It still hurt, but as he watched you fill out the RSVP card and giddily talk about getting to take part in your dear friend’s wedding… yeah, that softened the blow.

In fact, it made him think of something he had long ago given up on. Revived some old dream he had buried, brought back feelings he hadn’t expected to ever feel again. Because of you. And as he watched you sit on the floor in front of him, rambling on about the kind of dress you’d be wearing, he couldn’t help but suppress a smile — not just at the idea of you in that dress, but the fact that you were all his. Awkward rambles and all.

And my God, was he all yours.

The more he thought about gathering up the courage to ask you to marry him, the more nervous he became. He was usually so unwavering and confident, but it was no news that next to the women he loved, he was just a puppy dog. He was far from scary or menacing — he was just a man in love, hoping the woman of his dreams wanted to spend the rest of her days with him the way he did, too.

Still, he had hoped you wouldn’t notice. But apparently, he wasn’t as good at hiding it as he thought.

You first picked up on something on his mind when he was watching you try on your dress for the wedding. You were rambling about the details on the dress when you realized that even for someone quiet, Frank was being exceptionally silent. You looked at him through the mirror, only to find him smiling at you from across the room, dark eyes focused on you yet his attention not quite there.

”Baby?” you spoke up, ”you okay there?”

Clearing his throat, Frank nodded and wiped the lovestruck smile off of his face. ”Just fine, sweetheart. You look really pretty, y’know that? Could stare at you all day”, he noted, making you blush and forget all about the worry embering in your heart.

He was good at deflecting, making you flustered with genuine but calculated compliments, and changing the subject when you tried to poke. But as endearing as his longing gazes could be, you noticed he got quiet when you showed him pictures of your friend’s wedding ring, and again when you decided to get in the right mood by watching your favorite rom-com.

Finally, when you were listening to the playlist your friend had sent over, and Frank seemed to grow uncomfortable yet again, you decided to be brave and approach the subject head-on.

”Hey, you know you don’t have to come with me, right?” you pointed out, and with his eyebrows drawn together, Frank looked over to you from across the couch where you were both seated.

”You don’t want me to?” he questioned, seeming a little dejected, so you rushed to grab his hand.

”I want you there. But I can tell this might be a little much for you, and it’s no wonder. It’s okay to be sad, my love. Don’t push yourself too hard, okay?” you pleaded, and with an affectionate smile breaking on his face, Frank pulled you in so he could kiss your temple.

”It ain’t that, I promise. Sure, it’s, uh… a reminder, I s’pose. But right now, ’m just feelin’ real lucky to be here with you, aight?” he reassured you, and even though you seemed hesitant to believe him, you nodded.

”I want to be there with you”, Frank added.

And indeed, when the day of the wedding arrived, you were the only thing in his sights. You looked breathtaking in the lilac dress and he made sure you knew — and when you returned the compliment at his suit with a cheeky joke, his heart made a somersault in his chest. You were radiating with joy and love all day long, yet at the same time you had taken on so much responsibility to ensure your friend would have a smooth celebration, and that all the guests would feel at home. You were a natural and it warmed Frank’s heart even when you rejected his help with a kiss and told him to get a drink.

That was what he did, his gaze still stuck on you as you danced with one of your mutual friends’ kids across the venue. A soft smile tugged on his lips as he watched you shed the jacket he had given you so you could move easier, your laugh easy to pick out even through the music and chatter. You were his whole focus, always.

Chuckling, Frank then finished his beer before striding across the floor and over to you. He’d have to wait until later to make his plan come true, but until then, he was desperate to hold you close to him.

”Mind if I cut in, buddy?” Frank rasped at the little boy you had been twirling around, and although he seemed reluctant, above all he was intimidated by the burly man by your side suddenly. Quick as that, the kids vanished from around you and you couldn’t help but giggle while turning to Frank who instinctively slid his hands across your hips to reel you into his chest.

”It’s mean to scare kids”, you pointed out teasingly, well-aware that children adored him — he was a dad through and through, but there was no doubt that for the sake of stealing you all to himself, he had put a little extra meanness into his stare.

”What can I say, sweetheart”, he whispered into your ear, his smile touching your cheek as he leaned into you, ”I get jealous easily.”

You laughed at that, and it only widened Frank’s grin as he dropped his forehead to yours and swayed side to side with you. You were shorter but you were managing to hold onto his neck, nearly on your tiptoes as he took the lead and moved you across the floor in gentle, tender movements. His firm chest felt like a safe place and his arms around you put a smile on your face — almost as big as the love in your eyes as you shyly beamed up at him.

You couldn’t help but notice him glancing around while you kept dancing, his hands just the slightest bit shaky instead of their steady selves, and a frown deepened your forehead. ”Are you okay, baby? You seem… nervous, again”, you pointed out, and quickly looking back at you, he nodded.

”I’m okay, sweetheart”, he insisted before leaning foreard to kiss your forehead. ”Hey, I love you. With my whole damn heart, you know that? Ain’t no one I’d rather be dancin’ with right now”, he went on, and feeling you tense up in his arms, he emphasized his own words, ”no one.”

You nearly shed a tear at that, and even though they didn’t hold as much meaning coming from you, you returned the sentiment. ”Me either”, you hummed into his chest, ”I love you so much, Frank.”

More than one song passed with him just holding you, thinking of how lucky he was, the occasional careful kiss pressed into your hair while you clung onto him. It was warm and safe and you wouldn’t have changed a thing for the world.

Only when the midnight hours were rolling in, the crowd was beginning to dismantle and the happily new-weds were officially sent off to their honeymoon. As you watched their car drive away with all their loved ones waving them off, you couldn’t help but tear up — in response, Frank took your hand and held it as tight as you needed.

Not much later, people were turning to you to thank for a job well done before leaving in their own rides. Frank could have sworn you were an angel, smiling at each and every one of them and wishing them a safe journey home. Eventually, there was no one left but you and him and the clean-up crew, and just as you faced Frank to tell him your feet were killing you, he interjected by simply standing there.

He was holding a big bouquet of different colored roses in his hands, looking absolutely gorgeous with his dark eyes and white shirt and shy smile as he eyed you up and down. It wasn’t until he was handing over the flowers that you realized it wasn’t a dream, and upon recognizing the bouquet, you gasped.

”Oh no, did she forget—”, you started, wondering if the bride would have loved to have her flowers with her, but cutting you off, Frank shook his head while urging you to take them.

”Nah. It’s for you, sweetheart”, he stated simply, and when you gave him a curious smile, he chuckled. ”She, uh, she let me have it. She was gonna do the whole throwin’ thing, y’know?” he went on, and again, you gasped.

”Oh, I knew we forgot something!” you huffed, and chuckling, Frank scratched the back of his neck.

”No, no, uh… I asked her if I could have it. See, uh, she’d throw the bouquet to see who gets married next, yeah?” he tried explaining, and when you nodded, he broke into a flustered smile. ”Guess I just didn’t wanna take the chance you’d miss”, he finished, and at that, your smile dropped and you glanced between the bridal bouquet and him with disbelief.

”I ain’t askin’ yet… but if I did, would ya say yes?” he continued, fiddling with his hands nervously while waiting to see any reaction on your face. For a second, he wondered if it had been a terrible idea, but then your eyes started welling up and your hand flew to your mouth as you fidgeted and looked at the flowers and then back at Frank whose eyes lit up with excitement and relief.

”You’d really… you’d have me?” you whispered, your voice fragile as you reveled in the fantasy of standing like this with him some day — face to face, you in a dress, him in a suit with flowers in your hands and the moonlight above you.

”Hell yeah, sweetheart. If you’d have me. ’Cause I fuckin’ adore you. More than words can say, but you, uh, you… you make me feel alive. And happy to be alive. I can’t imagine a single day without you”, he sighed, and with a vigorous nod, you leaped forward to wrap your arms around him.

”Yes”, you cried out before pulling back just to kiss him, ”yes now and every day after this one. Whenever you want to do it… my answer will be the same.”

Grinning, Frank hugged you tight and closed his eyes while squeezing you. The two of you rocked back and forth in one another’s arms, silent apart from your sniffles, until you spoke up. ”This explains why you’ve been acting so weird lately. You’d really think the big bad Punisher would be better at staying calm under pressure”, you joked, earning a snort from Frank.

”Hey, this was really fuckin’ important. I wasn’t sure, y’know?” he shrugged while letting go of you enough to cradle your hands in his own and look into your eyes.

”Awww, Frankie”, you smiled up at him, ”you had no reason to be nervous. I’m completely and entirely in love with you.” With love twinkling in his eyes, he leaned into seal the distance between your lips, kissing you deeply. He stole your breath away, as he always did.

”Thank you for always bein’ patient with me. I know it ain’t always easy to be with me… but I hope it’s worth it. I’mma make it my mission to make sure of that”, he swore while resting his forehead against yours, and with another smile, you nodded.

”You’re always worth it, Frank.”

#frank castle #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher x reader

260 notes · View notes

persieee-yoohoo · 11 months

Text

Easy to Love, Easier to Betray

Pair: Tarquin x Reader

Word Count: 2,093

Warnings: maybe ooc?, no smut, language

Summary: You had never been to the Summer Court before, but Rhysand finally gave in to your incessant bothering and brought you along with Amren and Feyre. Unaware of the real reason behind the Night Court's visit, you played your unknown role well and got along with Tarquin a little too easily. When the truth is revealed and people are betrayed, will anything be enough to bring two people back together? (Sort-of retelling of the Summer Court visit for half of the Book of Breathings and several events that followed.)

Note: unedited sorry xoxo, more people need to respect my babygirl Tarquin tysm

Also available: ao3

You’d read countless books about the Summer Court in your lifetime, but no amount of literature could have prepared you for its true beauty. Falling in line beside Rhysand, Amren, and Feyre, a unified front rather than a hierarchy of power, you focused more on the sights around you than the company that you were set to meet. The water from the glittering sea below shifted at the command of the soft breeze while birds swooped around, and a salty scent floated up to you as you rushed to keep up. It was unlike anything you’d ever experienced, and your heart squeezed at the awe the new environment sparked in you.

The reason for why you’d been called on to attend this meeting was still a mystery that floated in the back of your mind, but you didn’t want to question your High Lord’s reasons if it meant you got to experience the wonders of another court. It was Azriel that pulled you from an assignment early at the behest of Rhys, and the Shadowsinger offered practically no answers to any of the questions you threw at him. His small smirk and shrug had you rolling your eyes, but you'd been quickly whisked up to your room at the House of Wind before you could get into it with him. Your familiar Illyrian leathers were practically ripped from your body as Nuala and Cerridwen dressed you in something more becoming and fitting for the tropical weather of the warm seasonal court, which you were grateful for as you stood on the tan-stone walkway already sweating.

You knew you stood out against your companions for your attire, but one look from Tarquin had you worrying about the speed of which your cheeks warmed rather than how you resembled someone of his court rather than your own. The color of your clothes matched the shade of his eyes almost perfectly, and you wondered if the shadow twins had planned that.

“What a pleasure, Rhysand. You brought such beautiful company with you.” It was Tarquin who spoke first, but you knew the members of his own court that accompanied him were each silently assessing their guests. His voice was deep and rich, pulling your attention to hang onto every word he said while you ignored what everyone else was speaking about.

“I figured some eye candy in the form of my emissary and my trusted friend would do us both some good while we discussed things.” Rhysand gestured to both Feyre and Amren, but his introduction stopped there. It was a trap to have interest drawn to you, and by the way Tarquin only gave brief smiles to the others before settling on you, the young High Lord was ensnared.

“Don’t you agree, Tarquin?”

Tarquin barely looked away from you, even as you stood beside the striking beauty of the recently made-fae Feyre Cursebreaker. By the way Rhysand smirked down the line, unbeknownst to you as you met the dark-skinned fae’s stare, that perhaps was the plan overall.

“Of course.” As if it were even possible, your blush deepens as you noticed how wide Tarquin’s pupils had blown in your presence. What had been several feet of distance between opposing court members seemed like mere inches as you continued your stare down. No one dared to look away first, to give into the other. It was hypnotizing, and if you were any less of a proper being, you might’ve drooled. “Do I get the pleasure of knowing your name and who you are to the Night Court?”

While Tarquin's first words were addressed to Rhys, his next were said directly to you. His voice barely dropping an octave but full of new, unbridled emotion. You didn’t know what was going on, but you were running the risk of losing yourself in the deep sea of the High Lord's eyes if you didn’t look away soon.

Whether you were taking too long to respond or you truly had started to drool, Feyre's discreet elbow to your side pulled you from the spell that Tarquin’s beauty had put you under and you finally looked away. Your senses rushed back to you and the sound of the crashing waves deep below finally sang by your ears in a comforting melody once again.

“Y/N,” you pointedly chose not to indulge him on your position within the court, especially since you worked under Azriel time to time as a spy. “It’s a pleasure to be here. Adriata has been a dream destination for years, and it's taken me this long to wear Rhys down into bringing me along on a trip. My presence here is just a display of his pity, no doubt.” Your words held up surprisingly strong as you spoke, but you still couldn’t bear to look back at Tarquin. His gaze remained on you, that much you knew, but you refused to give in again. Rhysand let out a bark of laughter at your words, but didn't discredit what you said. You were sure that he had more than pity as a reason for bringing you along, but that bastard was always scheming.

“I assure you that the pleasure is all mine, Y/N.”

No amount of time that you could possibly ever spend in the Summer Court would be enough to loosen the hold it’s beauty had on you. You wished for every excursion to be longer and every meeting to be more drawn out. In fact, it took every ounce of will you had just to keep yourself from begging Rhysand to find more ways to stall them from returning home.

It was your eyes that held the most emotion for the new environment you’d found yourself in. No amount of skill or training could keep your glances schooled into indifferent stares. No, you looked at everything with a mix of awe and premature longing for what you’d miss the most upon your return to the Night Court.

“Does my court not agree with you, Y/N?” Tarquin's voice was as gentle as the breeze that caressed your bare arms, and you knew it was a sound that you would't mind hearing everyday for the rest of your life. “You always seem so sad when you’re looking around.”

The spot next to you on the boat that had been unoccupied moments ago was now taken by Summer Lord, who smiled at you like he knew that your longing stares meant quite the opposite of what his words were hinting at.

“Of course not!” You spoke quickly, too fast for your own liking but you felt the need to defend your mood. While your face must’ve appeared to be a storm of gloom, you were rather a precursor for heartbreak. “On the contrary, my Lord. I find your court to be most agreeable.”

You barely gave an effort to look around for Rhysand, least he overhear you, when you continued, “In fact, I’d say that I find myself drawn more here than I do my home.”

The skills you’d been taught by your spymaster aided you in noticing the subtle way Tarquin reacted, tracking the small stutter of his heartbeat and the slight widening of his eyes. “Is that so? Should I expect Adriata to be a future forwarding address for our correspondences?”

It had been a nonchalant statement, a cocky inference that they’d remain acquainted after their visit ended, but you saw past its simplicity for what it was: a challenge. It sparked something within you, something that you’d tried and failed to douse since you first locked eyes with the High Lord. Your prior hesitance was lost to the remembered eagerness for more.

“You wouldn’t hand-deliver your love letters to my doorstep if I traded allegiances? I suppose that I’ll have to rethink my plan after all. I’m sure someone in Velaris would wait on my stoop for my attention.” Any present company was forgotten as you both continued the game that had been started upon your arrival. Whatever the rules had been before, if there had been any, were forgotten and you were stranded with just Tarquin next to you. His warmth threatened to suffocate you as you sat beside him, but you didn’t even dare to move away.

“Love letters? Why would I need to write my feelings out and deliver them in person when I could just say them to you?” You didn’t know when, too focused on his words than his actions, but Tarquin’s lips had moved directly next to your left ear and they were teasing you with their proximity. His hot breath against the side of your face sent a shiver down your spine, and you didn’t even need to look at your feet as they curled in your shoes at the feeling. “Is that what you want? For me to whisper sweet nothings in your ear while I confess my feelings of love?”

“I don’t want sweet nothings,” you practically choked on your words. It was becoming too difficult to contain yourself and work on stringing together words. “I want promises, Tarquin. What can you promise me?”

Whatever response your question could’ve pulled from the High Lord’s soft lips was interrupted by the reappearance of Feyre and the silent fury that radiated off of her. It took little intelligence to know that Rhys was the unfortunate cause to her worsening mood. You didn’t try to ask her then, not in their mixed company and especially not in your heightened state, but definitely later. The both of you needed to catch up and you couldn’t lie that some advice would be nice for how to deal with a High Lord. That would all have to wait, though, as you got up and ventured to the opposite side of the boat deck. First, you needed to make it off that damned boat with your dignity still in check.

Your efforts to talk to Feyre after you were rooted back on land were thwarted by her eagerness to escape to her room. Her speed was a worthy opponent to yours, and you ended up slightly out of breath as you followed behind her to your assigned set of rooms.

The slam of her doors kept you away, and you found yourself slipping into your own room rather than risk another heated conversation with Tarquin so soon after your last. You’d barely made it out alive the last time, with lust weighing you down at the hushed words from the High Lord before Feyre’s opportune interruption.

With Feyre shut away to her lonesome and Rhys off who knows where, probably skulking or seducing, you changed from your day outfit into something more comfortable for the warm night that was quickly approaching. The soft cotton of your night clothes hung loosely off your body, and you barely cared as you took dinner in your room. There was more of the court to indulge yourself in, and you wanted to further enjoy the summery ambiance that made its way through your open balcony doors.

Maybe you indulged in too much wine, having polished a whole bottle by yourself during your meal, but could’ve sworn you imagined a piece of paper appear atop an empty space of your dinner tray, scrawled with unfamiliar script.

I can’t stop thinking about you. It’s impossible.

It was probably still the wine that had you imagining yourself responding, filling your own response beneath the written words.

Perhaps you’re just not trying hard enough, High Lord.

You didn’t have the same confidence from earlier to admit that the richness of his skin and the vastness of his eyes hadn’t left your mind either, but the small distance between you both had left you a coward.

Spend the day with me tomorrow. After our meetings, stay with me. I’ll fulfill whatever your heart desires if it lies within my means.

You gulped down more wine at that. The warm embrace of the wine protected your stuttering heart as you picked up the waiting quill and turned the scrap paper around to begin a response. It took three tries, two scratched out beginnings before you settled on something.

As you wish. Tomorrow, I’m yours.

#tarquin #tarquin/reader #tarquin/you #acotar #acomaf #acowar #a court of thorns and roses #tarquin x reader #tarquin x you

135 notes · View notes

bobastar · 1 year

Text

Teenager In Love

JJ Maybanks X fem!reader

a/n: one of my favorite trope is book smart gf and street smart bf// Not Edited, I made some things up because I’m too lazy to look back + I liked this idea i had :p (theres two different songs to fit the mood) not edited/proofread

You were sitting in the library peering down at your notes as you heard the little bell ring. JJ walked over to you and sat next to you huffing quietly. You looked over at him and smiled a little.

“Hi,” you whispered as he slopped down on his chair and rested his head on your arm.

“Hey” You could tell he was upset about something. Kissing the top of his head and putting your arm around his shoulder to play with his hair, you softly hummed.

He smiled slightly as he looked up. “Everything okay?” you asked as he nodded.

“Just fine, whatcha doin?” he leaned up and kissed the corner of your mouth.

“Studying..” you rolled your eyes knowing he was gonna laugh quietly at you. “Shut up, its for Pope.”

“Yeah yeah, you just looked cute while saying that,” he smiled. “Are you finished?”

“Hmm..almost, why?”

“I wanna take you somewhere, but you can finish.”

You nodded and pecked his lips before looking back at your laptop and notes.

JJ sat up and grabbed one of your glitter pens and started to draw on his arm. He fidgeted his fingers and rings, looking over to your laptop occasionally.

“Is it for the gold thingy?” he whispered, leaning his cheek on your shoulder as you nodded.

“Yeah I wanted to know more about it before we went on the ‘mission’.” you used air quotes.

He smiled kissing your shoulder before grabbing your hand to play with your fingers and rings. It was something you were already used to, you never really mind it since you knew that JJ had a problem with sitting still. He brought your hand up to him, giving your palm small quiet kisses. Then he brought it back down and started to draw little doodles on your hand.

As you picked up your noted and closed your laptop, you looked down at your arm seeing the designs JJ made.

“Youre silly,” you laughed at your initials and his surrounded by a messy heart drawn on the top of your hand. He smiled, “you finished?”

“Yeah, lets go.” He got your backpack and got up, watching you as you pushed in your chair. He hung your backpack over his shoulder carefully and let you cling yourself on his arm.

“Where is this mystery place?”

“You know it pretty well,” he smiled, kissing the top of your head.

“Yeah?” he helped you on his bike and handed you your backpack. He hummed in response, getting slightly flustered as you wrapped your arms around his torso, playing with his shirt.

“Ready?,” JJ turned his head back to look at you. You smiled and nodded, “Yeah” you said softly as you rested your cheek on his shoulder.

He smiled and looked forward, driving off to who knows where.

-- later that evening --

It seemed as if the pogues where still caught up in an argument while you were studying, everyone was quiet and had a frown on their face. JJ sighed and sat down on a chair pulling you down by your waist gently, setting you down on his lap.

As the group talked among themselves, JJ kept planting kisses and playing with your shirt. You kept paying attention in case JJ missed some points of the plan.

“Rafe has the cross, I just know it,” Pope was irritated and stressed.

“I overheard that theres a party hes attending while sneaking into the house, maybe he’ll talk to someone about it..” Sarah chimed in.

“Who the hell can sneak into a party?” Kiara rolled her eyes and leaned back onto her chair.

Pope looked around and his eyes landed on you and JJ. “They can, JJ is good at lying and Y/n looks like she could fit into the crowd, she’s good under pressure too.”

“I do lie a lot,” JJ smiled lazily “what time is the part?”

“Today at 7, you have 3 hours to get ready.”

“Sounds good.”

Your blue velvet dress swayed in the wind as JJ drove quickly to the party location. As you arrived you took off your helmet carefully and fixed your dress, JJ helping you off.

“Ready?”

“Of course,” you smiled back.

JJ fixed his vest, sighing. “I’ll meet you back here, ‘kay?” He pecked your lips and tugged you closer. “The dress seems easy for me to take off.”

“I made sure it was,” you kissed him quickly, feeling his smile pressed against your lips.

“If they bother you, remember what I taught you,” he smiled. “Hit them right there, and then walk away, just walk away.”

You laughed and nodded.

The dress hugged your body beautifully making some of the Kooks at the party look at you. Luckily it was a mask party so half of your face was masked with a similar color of your dress. Sitting down you scanned the room for JJ, but was surprised when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“He’s by the bar, m’lady,” you could hear the smirk under the mask as he handed you a drink. You took the drink and nodded, getting up. As you were walking, you heard JJ whistle and giggle under his mask as he walked in the opposite direction.

You sat down at the bar just close enough to hear Rafe, sure enough he was bragging about gold and the cash he could make with it. You made sure to look if the video was recording, setting your phone face down on the table. You looked around and saw waiters filling drinks/being trashed talked by ungrateful kids.

Just then Rafe looked over at you, tilting his head.

“Hey, are you new here?,” he smiled sitting next to you. You hardly ever hung out with JJ’s friends so it was possible he didn’t recognize you.

“Not really.”

“You seem new, I would’ve recognized a girl like you,” he sat next to you, moving his head slightly to look at the unmasked part of your face. You shrugged and brought the straw up to your lips taking a sip. You felt a hand creep up to your thigh, rubbing the soft fabric harshly. “I have a boyfriend,” you said sternly.

He looked back at his buddy and scoffed, “so?”. You nodded, but he moved his hand higher. You got the information you needed, so you stopped the video, making sure he didnt see the screen, and put it in your purse. While trying to get up, he pressed his hand tighter on your thigh. As you sighed telling him to stop raising your voice more than the last, a specific waiter turned his head over to the scene.

Rafe seemed embarrassed, almost enraged. How could a mere little girl, one he has never even seen, reject him so quickly? That’s when he held onto the dress pushing you closer to him, a cruel smile plastered all over his face. You reached your hand over the table and splashed the cup full of alcohol over his face, the music stopped as the sound of shattered glass filled the room instead. Before he could attack you, you remembered what JJ said. You kneed him, shocked at your quick action.

“Oops,” you smiled as he let go of you to clean himself up. You walked away from him, being careful to not step on the glass. JJ was watched, his mouth slightly gaped open as you tugged on his shirt to go before Rafe followed. He let himself be dragged by you, still shocked by his badass girlfriend, the same girlfriend who was sweet to everyone, almost never got mad.

You took off your mask and sighed, “lets go.”

“Yes ma’am, right away ma’am,” JJ took of his mask and handed you a helmet. You put on the helmet, and got on the bike wrapping your hands around him.

As Rafe and his friends stomped outside, JJ and you were already gone. Nothing but broken masks and tire marks were on the floor.

#jj mayback imagine #jj maybank #jj x you #obx2 #outer banks #jj mayback x reader #obx #jj obx #random #:) i like them. surf & turf

118 notes · View notes

multifandomfix · 1 year

Text

Caught Red Headed - Jethro Gibbs

Summary: Your crush on Gibbs gets the better of you when you go out for drinks with the team and you decide the best way to get Gibbs' attention is to dye your hair red. Come Monday morning, you realize you may have made a mistake.

Word Count: 1,185

Warnings: Some embarrassment, but otherwise a whole lot of fluff.

Oh god, what have you done? You wondered this as you looked at yourself in the mirror in horror. Friday night had suggested to you that this was a wonderful idea, but by Monday morning you were now regretting it. Not that it didn’t look good. It was professionally done on Saturday and you’d spent the rest of the weekend at home, so it looked absolutely pristine, but the fact that you’d done it at all was what you were regretting.

It came to you on your third drink. You thought of asking your coworkers their opinion, but ultimately decided it would be far more fun if it were a complete surprise come Monday. Another bad choice. Tony may have teased you the moment you said it aloud, but Ziva probably would have had the sense to talk you out of it had you mentioned it to her. Now you really wish you had.

Again, it wasn’t like it looked bad. The particular shade of red actually went rather nicely with your skin tone and even brought out the color of your eyes a bit. It was only the reason why you’d done it at all that was making it seem like such a mistake. The worst part was, you were still hesitant to admit the reason to yourself, despite it having been entirely your idea.

Logically, you knew you weren’t going to be able to hide it forever. The dye would fade in time, but it wasn’t practical for you to keep your hair one hundred percent hidden until then. That could be literal months. And you weren’t about to just cut it all off either. That would be a worse decision than the one you’d already made. So what were you to do? You had to be at work in less than an hour and you were scrambling for a solution. You stared yourself down in the mirror and heaved out a sigh. Well, you were just going to have to go into work like this. Too bad this wasn’t likely to be the one day everyone took a sick day at once.

You dressed, trying to avoid looking at your hair every two seconds, before you finally made your way out the door. Every moment you were outside you felt like everyone was staring at you. They weren’t, but you were on edge regardless. Strangers might not notice, but the minute you stepped in to work you knew someone was going to notice the change. Even worse, someone was going to ask about it.

You made it up to the bullpen with no comments, which was a welcome relief. You even got to sit down at your desk before you saw anyone from the team. You released a deep, calming breath, hoping that maybe it wasn’t going to be as big of a deal as you’d made it out to be after all. People dye their hair every day for any number of reasons, right? Why couldn’t you just want a change?

Before your cleansing breath was fully let out, you heard Tony's voice fill the bullpen. "Oh my god, look at you!" As if you needed any more attention drawn to yourself. Luckily these outbursts were normal for Tony and it hardly even turned a head your direction. Thank goodness for small favors. "Quite the change there, red. What prompted it?"

"Leave it, Tony," Ziva chastised, only a few steps behind him. "You do not always need to be so nosy."

"I have to admit, I’m kind of curious too," McGee chimed in. Great, just when Ziva had saved you, McGee had to go and ruin it.

Doing a quick check to make sure your boss was entirely absent for the moment, you contemplated telling them all the truth. Might take that huge weight off of your shoulders if you did. Then they could get it all out of their systems and you could begin to move on from your disastrous weekend decisions. Alright, now or never, you decided, seeing as you had the all clear. You opened your mouth to speak, only for your voice to be overtaken by that of your boss, Leroy Jethro Gibbs, entering the bullpen with his usual firm and commanding order of "Grab your gear."

The five of you made quick work at grabbing your things and piling into the elevator. You stood to the far back corner, holding your breath for the short elevator ride down to the ground level. The team exited one by one, leaving you and Gibbs for last. Feeling silly, you almost didn’t dare to walk past him. Perhaps you should have, because Gibbs turned around, gave you a once over and commented, "Like the hair. Now let's get a move on."

He stepped out of the elevator and you followed behind, pulling your official NCIS hat down to cover your face which was undoubtedly covered in a bright red blush that would rival your newly gained hair color. You caught up with the team, keeping your distance from Gibbs for the time being and started to observe the crime scene.

Tony, however, was observing you. "I’ve got it," Tony declared, making you jump.

"Got what," Ziva hissed, Tony clearly having startled her too, and she wasn’t an easy one to scare.

"The hair. It’s for Gibbs."

"It is not," you refuted at a volume way louder than you’d meant. Well if that wasn’t a dead give away, you didn’t know what was. Everyone around looked to you, and you felt like crawling in a hole, or maybe just going back in time and deciding not to get out of bed this morning. Tony had really hit the nail on the head. It was a well known fact that Gibbs liked redheads. You liked Gibbs, so yeah, dyeing your hair red seemed like a clever idea at the time. Now you just felt like an idiot.

"Will you all shut up and do your work," Gibbs shot back at the lot of you. Embarrassed and not wanting to cross him, you all hung your heads and got back to the crime scene in front of you. You were sad for the victim, but happy for the distraction. At least everyone was focusing on something other than you now.

Losing yourself in the work, you didn’t realize Gibbs had come up beside you. Your breath caught in your throat as he whispered in your ear. "Next time you want my attention, maybe just ask for it."

Trying to recover from the surprise, you muttered out a "Yes, boss…uh, Gibbs…umm, Jethro?"

"We'll figure that out depending on how dinner goes. My treat. We'll go right after work. Now can we work on this case without any more distractions?"

Not wanting to fumble over names again, you gave a small nod and a half assed salute, and Gibbs seemed to take that as a good enough response before moving on. Now there was only one question left in your head. Did he like you, or did he just like the hair?

For anon

Forever Tag: @borg-queer, @ghostsunderstoodmysoul, @icetown587, @princess-sarah-lynn, @kyraccs-blog, @immyowndefender, @valencethefriendlychangeling, @crimsonwidow666, @rebelbossheart

Jethro Gibbs: @esposamultifandom, @leroyjethrogibbsgirl, @iciclesandsnow, @floresferae

#jethro gibbs #jethro gibbs one shot #jethro gibbs x reader #ncis #ncis one shot #request

171 notes · View notes

toomanyrobins2 · 2 months

Text

Christmas in Gotham

Summary: An orphan all her life, Y/N is simply too old to remain at The Bowery Home any longer. That is where an anonymous patron has swooped in to send her off to college and all he requires…a monthly letter of her academic progress.

Based off the book and musical “Daddy Long Legs”

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader

last part // series masterlist // next part

Notes: I'm finally getting around to updating this fic! If you would like to catch up and get more consistent updates to this story and others I would go to by AO3!

From the Home of the Gordon Family

31st December

Dear Batman,

I meant to write to you before and thank you for your Christmas cheque, but life in the Gordon household is very absorbing, and I don't seem able to find two consecutive minutes to spend at a desk.

I bought a new gown—one that I didn't need, but just wanted. My Christmas present this year is from Batman; my family just sent love.

I've been having the most beautiful vacation visiting Barbara. She lives in a big old-fashioned brick house with white trimmings set back from the street—exactly the kind of house that I used to look at so curiously when I was in the Bowery Home, and wonder what it could be like inside. I never expected to see with my own eyes—but here I am! Everything is so comfortable and restful and homelike; I walk from room to room and drink in the furnishings.

It is the most perfect house for children to be brought up in; with shadowy nooks for hide and seek, and open fireplaces for pop-corn, and an attic to romp in on rainy days and slippery banisters with a comfortable flat knob at the bottom, and a great big sunny kitchen, and a nice, fat, sunny cook who has lived in the family thirteen years and always saves out a piece of dough for the children to bake. Just the sight of such a house makes you want to be a child all over again.

And as for families! I never dreamed they could be so nice. Barbara has a father and mother and grandmother, and the sweetest three-year-old baby sister all over curls, and a medium-sized brother who always forgets to wipe his feet, and a big, good-looking brother named Jimmie, who is a junior at Princeton.

Bruce's eyes scanned the words on the paper, his usually stoic expression revealing a flicker of surprise and something akin to dismay. He couldn't deny the unease that settled in his chest at the mention of this mysterious young man. The thought of Y/N, someone he had mentored and grown fond of, showing interest in someone else triggered an unexpected pang of discomfort.

A low groan escaped him as he set the letter down on the desk. The idea of Y/N having an interest in a man didn't sit well with him, stirring emotions he hadn't anticipated. He couldn't quite put his finger on why it bothered him so, but the realization that she might be drawn to someone outside their mentor-mentee relationship brought a sense of unrest.

Leaning back in his chair, Bruce ran a hand through his hair, contemplating how to react to Y/N's letter. He couldn't deny the connection they shared, and the notion of someone else vying for her attention created a subtle tension in the air.

We have the jolliest times at the table— everybody laughs and jokes and talks at once, and we don't have to say grace beforehand. It's a relief not having to thank Somebody for every mouthful you eat. (I dare say I'm blasphemous; but you'd be, too, if you'd offered as much obligatory thanks as I have.)

Such a lot of “things we've done—I can't begin to tell you about them. Mr. Gordon is the Commissioner of Gotham and Christmas Eve he had a tree for the officers’ children. It was in the long packing room which was decorated with evergreens and holly. Jimmie Gordon was dressed as Santa Claus and Barbara and I helped him distribute the presents.

Dear me, Batman, but it was a funny sensation! I felt as benevolent as a Trustee of the John Grier home. I kissed one sweet, sticky little boy—but I don't think I patted any of them on the head!

And two days after Christmas, they gave a dance at their own house for ME. It was the first really true ball I ever attended—college doesn't count where we dance with girls. I had a new white evening gown (your Christmas present—many thanks) and long white gloves and white satin slippers. The only drawback to my perfect, utter, absolute happiness was the fact that Mrs. Lippett couldn't see me leading the cotillion with Jimmie Gordon. Tell her about it, please, the next time you visit the B. H.

Also, who should have been invited to this event but Mr. Bruce Wayne himself! Apparently he is friends with the Gordons and I had the opportunity to thank him again in person for the lovely chocolates. He introduced me to his friends and inquired about my education and recommended a book to me. In the most gentlemanly of actions, he sent the book to the Gordon home the next day with a note that I should keep the book and add it to my personal collection. He says that every respectable writer should have a collection of books and I find that I agree with him completely. I find myself dreaming of a day where i can live in a grand home and collect books to my heart’s content.

Yours ever,

Y/N Abbott

PS. Have you ever read Gulliver’s Travel? I wonder what you would think of such a fantastical novel!

PPS. Would you be terribly displeased, Bats, if I didn't turn out to be a Great Author after all, but just a Plain Girl?

#toomanyrobins #Batman #Batman imagine #Batman x reader #bruce Wayne #Bruce Wayne imagine #Bruce Wayne x reader #battison #battison imagine #déçu #dcu imagine

13 notes · View notes

blueshistorysims · 7 months

Text

1910-1912

And so the two years quickly passed. For Edeline, London was a dream. The people and the culture and the music were so fascinating, and everything was loud and exciting, a stark contrast from the quiet and peaceful New Crest. At school, she met like-minded women, women who were passionate about medical school and further independence. She attended political meetings and even got involved with the local suffragette chapter, which she purposely omitted in her letters to her parents.

During her second year, a young man standing next to her professor caught her attention. Her professor introduced him as Montgomery MacGregor, a Scotsman from Edinburgh (originally from Perthshire) who was interning under her before he graduated with a medical degree. She thought he was devilishly handsome.

“Excuse me?” He asked as Edeline started to leave the class after the lecture.

Edeline turned, surprised. “Um… yes?”

“You’re Miss Walsh, yes?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Dr. White tells me that you’re one of her brightest students.”

She blushed, though she didn’t understand why. “Oh! She’s just playing favorites. She hasn’t seen my grades in Dr. Foster’s class.”

He laughed, his eyes crinkling.

“And please, call me Edeline.”

“...Then it would give me the greatest pleasure to have ya call me Montgomery, Miss Edeline.”

Before Alexander left for Liverpool, he and Edith met at the very same place they had fallen in love.

“I shall write to you every day,” Edith told him.

“And during the weekends, I shall take the train back here and visit you. Edith Mary Smith, I promise I shall marry you before these next two years are over.”

She nodded. “I will wait.”

Of course, these were the promises he made before university. University turned out to be much different than he expected. And he loved it. He enjoyed the parties and comradery, and the girls decked out in too much makeup and sparkling dresses. And so when the alcohol was flowing and girls beckoning… Alexander couldn’t help himself. Edith didn’t need to know.

Giselle spent most of her free time drawing and sewing. Following a pattern she saw in a magazine, she made a few alterations of her own, and to her delight, finished her dress in time for her first day as a fourth year student. When she arrived at school (without her mother walking her to her delight), she saw a girl she didn’t recognize standing all by herself. Giselle wasn’t exactly the most social person, considering she spent all day indoors, but something about the girl made Giselle feel drawn to her, almost as if it was fate telling her to talk.

“Have you moved her recently?” She asked, approaching the girl.

“Um, yes,” the new girl replied.

“That’s a strange accent you have,” Giselle said bluntly, curious for she had never heard an accent like that before. Perhaps this girl was from Scotland—Papa always said that Scots had funny accents. “Where are you from?”

“Hong Kong,” the girl replied.

“...Isn’t that in China?”

She nodded.”

Giselle was amazed that someone from so far away could live in little old New Crest. “That’s amazing you live here. Why did you move here?”

“My Mama died, and Papa already died when I was a baby, so my great aunt Rosamond came to Hong Kong and brought me here.”

She felt guilty for asking. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” the girl reassured her. “I’m glad you came to talk.”

“I’m Giselle.”

“Francesca,” Francesca whispered as they shook hands.

The girls quickly became inseparable, much to the joy of Peter and Rebecca and Francesca’s great aunt, Rosamond Pace, an older woman who lived in a nice house not too far from the Walshes. Giselle didn’t really understand why some people looked at Francesca strangely or when they had her and Ms. Pace for dinner, she listened in on the adults’ conversation, but it didn’t make any sense. All she caught was something about Francesca’s father being a missionary and something about the Boxer Rebellion (which to her sounded like a racehorse’s name) and that Francesca’s mother had died of drowning in a bathtub, which made no sense to Giselle since bathtubs were too small to drown, but she never asked Francesca about it.

At Oxford, Byron decided to be a new person. No one he knew at Willow Creek was attending Exeter College, and here, away from everything, he could be the person he’d always wanted to be. He understood his brother’s love of parties, attending any he was invited to, which grew the more he attended. He and his friends befriended some of the girls who were studying at Oxford, though unlike the men they could not obtain degrees, which Byron thought was very stupid. Sometimes his friends teased him for his many friendships with women, but he knew they talked to him because he was younger than the rest and to quote one girl, “not riddled with ideas of women in servitude.”

19 notes · View notes

hanahaki-disease · 4 months

Text

Haven’t I Given Enough?

A Hermit! Tommy HC x DSMP xover

Chapter 14 | “How do you owe the World? How do you own Disorder?”

Summary: Tommy doesn’t know what he did to deserve this, to have someone fight for him, but at what cost? Lines had begun to be drawn in the sand by people he barely even knew.

Word count: 2718

Fic notes: Title is from “Toxicity” by System of a Down’s

*****************************************

“What now?” Tommy asked as they stepped outside the residential tower of Pearl’s base. Beneath his foot, the gravel crunched with every step and the smell of fresh flowers dotted the place eased his nerves. It was a lot of information to learn in a short period, not including learning that his mother was alive or that his uncle and mother were watchers. Tommy felt like he needed time to process everything. To fully grasp the severity of his mother’s past and to try and predict any possible bad endings this world could come to. “Where do we go from here?”

“We go one day at a time,” Pearl answered from beside him, in her hands, she had a small bag of wildflower seeds. Now and then, she would take a bit out of the bag and scatter them along the mossy grass surrounding them, carefully picking the spots she thought could use a bit more detail. “I don’t expect you to act a certain way around me, nor do I expect any form of affection just yet. We’re going at your pace Tommy, don’t think you need to rush things if they make you uncomfortable.” Tommy felt his mother tousled his hair a bit. “I am perfectly fine just talking to you if that’s what you wish.”

Tommy gave a silent nod as they continued the tour of the base. It was incredible, he thought. Everything here was a strange and beautiful kind of foreign that he didn’t understand. Plants that never existed outside the Hermitcraft server sprang to life whenever they got near, some opened their petals from above them, letting their spores float around them and taking root in the ground. If someone had told him that this place was an alien settlement from Jupiter, Tommy would believe it, because it’s pretty hard to believe that his mother was the one to make all of this.

Across the cavern, a shimmering castle of sorts stood high atop the hill. The spires reached into the sky, leaving streaks in the clouds, and the foundations dug into the earth below it. Polished quartz glinted and the prismarine twinkled multicolored in the sun, giving the castle an ethereal kind of vibe. It was beautiful. Right below the castle was a kind of intimidating stronghold of deepslate and Blackstone, the copper brought his attention to the gate at the front.

“That is my friend Impulse’s base,” Pearl said and led him down the winding paths to the matching copper and Blackstone bridge that connected the two sides of the gorge. “He’s doing a whole dwarf thing this season and he’s taking on an ambitious project of excavating the mountain on the inside.”

“It’s not as ambitious as rebuilding a whole new biome from scratch,” Tommy nearly jumped at the sudden voice. Behind him was an average-sized man, a bit on the heavier side but he made it work, dressed in shades of black, dark brown, and yellow. His smile was easy to see in the carefully tended beard that jingled from all his little gold accessories braided in. “Hi, I’m Impulse, you must be Tommy, right? I met up with Scar earlier and he told me about you.”

Tommy shook the dwarf’s hand and gazed in wonder at the tour of the base. “I’m still working on the ceiling, the stone and dirt and stuff are coming down soon, but before that, I need to finish the hole.” Below the center platform, an almost empty hole stretched far into the earth. How long had this taken him? It couldn’t have been years, Tommy thinks, they move every other year or so. “This vine right here takes you up to Gem’s base, I’m also working on a better way to her pace that isn’t crimson vines.”

“Pearl! Pearl!” Flying in from the open gate, a woman–petite and thin with large branching antlers atop her head–stumbled onto the platform out of breath and worried. “I think there are some hermits who think Tommy is a glitched player! We need to talk to Xisuma or something.”

“What?” Tommy looked at the mystery lady.

“I overheard Jevin talk about a meeting to discuss what to do about Tommy,” She looked between the Impulse and Pearl. “We need to do something, gather everyone who knows about you and see if there’s a way to explain the truth to them.”

“We need to tell Doc then,” Tommy spoke up. “I don’t think going to the admin would help, something tells me he’s pretty upset about the lies Uncle G kept from him.” The three adults looked at the teen, each one agreeing with him. “I don’t have a communicator, so one of you is gonna have to tell him.”

Tommy knew that peace wasn’t going to last forever, he of all people should know that, but he didn’t know that trouble had already caught up with him. It wasn’t even an hour ago that he and his mother reunited, and here he was, standing once again in the middle of a potential war. He hopes that no one dies because of him.

–

From the bottom of the perimeter, the rest of the world faded from sight, only the large, imposing walls of the giant square-shaped hole could be seen. The bedrock beneath his feet was cold, even with his shoes on. Tommy could feel the never-ending cold from the void, rippling through the immovable blocks, as if it was trying to break it and swallow him whole. Around him, the walls faded into the familiar white blur that happens when things get too far to see, letting him know how big the giant hole was.

They had chosen the bottom of the perimeter to meet up for a few reasons. One, if they built a secret meeting room in one of the walls, it’d be impossible to see unless you were intentionally looking for it. Two, if they were to stand in the middle, those who were flying above or standing on the edges couldn’t hear them. And three, the Perimeter would be the last place people would look if there was a meeting of some kind.

Tommy looked around at the small group that gathered, each of them was there to protect him, to keep him safe from those they considered friends and family. On a small stage were Doc, Xisuma, Grian, and his mother. The admin wore a different helmet than the other one he’s seen, it was more like a face mask than a helmet. The sides stretched to only the edge of his face where two thick bands wrapped around the back of his head, securing it in place. He seemed tense, Tommy thought, a stark difference from the easy-going, and calm admin he’d come to know. (He’s still wary of him, no matter how comfortable he allows himself to be with him.)

Among the small crowd were the other two “Soup Group” members, as his mother called the trio, Impulse and the ginger woman–whom Tommy now knows her name as Gem. Iskall, Scar, and Stress stood to the left of him. Iskall’s arms were crossed as he listened intently to what the admin and Doc were talking about, Scar held a pen and notebook in his hands, taking down notes he deemed important. And though Tommy wasn’t the best when it came to literature, some words were misspelled and dotted in the paragraphs now and then. Stress kept her hand on his back, rubbing circles in the hopes that it would calm Tommy down. And it was working, but the looming anxiety returned when she stopped and paid attention to Xisuma.

There were even people there that Tommy hadn’t met, but were willing to protect him. One guy was tall, not as tall as Xisuma or Doc, but he still had some height to him. His hair was a pristine shade of white with some bits of light gray dotted in, a navy-colored mask covered the lower half of his face as he listened intently to what Grian was saying. Sometimes he would lower his head and whisper something to the guy next to him. The other man was shorter than the first, but so were a lot of people compared to Stretch, Tommy thought. He wore a green fuzzy cloak that bunched at the floor as if it was too long for him, it wrapped around him and just barely covered the white shirt and dark jeans underneath.

A total of ten people showed up to the meeting. Twelve people were willing to hurt their family if things went bad for a kid they barely knew.

“Unfortunately, we don’t know how many people are a part of them,” Doc said. “We know for sure that Cub and Wels are the ones who started it, how they found out about Tommy, we still don’t know, but we know that they think Tommy is a glitched player. We must assume that they’ll do anything to get him off the server.”

“By ‘do anything’ what are you implying Doc?” The white-haired guy spoke up. “Are you saying that Wels would kill the kid to keep us safe? Don’t you think that’s a bit harsh for both the kid and Wels?”

“Wels would because of how he lost his home world,” Grian answered. “I was there when it happened. A glitched player caused the downfall of his world and he almost died with it. Wels wouldn’t want Hermitcraft to end the same way, and so he’d do whatever he thinks is best to protect us.”

Tommy looked around at the group, how could they all be ready to fight for him? What did the admin promise them upon their victory? Wars had been started for less than what he was worth, Tommy knows that for sure, but what was the gain they would have? It confused the poor kid.

Most of his life had been filled with fighting against an enemy whose values and morals were vastly different than his, and usually, that was enough to justify the fight. Their ideas and promises had fallen through and Tommy was caught on the short end of the stick, forced to pick a side and lead troops against the other side. But here, where the whole server was a family, and corruption between them hadn’t torn them apart, Tommy was placed on one side and forced to fight. To fight for himself. (Which he doesn’t think is a good reason to fight.)

“So what’s the plan?” Iskall asked. It seemed like that was the only question left unanswered in the impromptu meeting of Tommy-Protection-Squad. “Do we wait for them to figure out where Tommy is and fight or?”

Xisuma shook his head, “We need to find out how many people believe in Wels and Cub’s agenda, from there we try to make peace with them by introducing Tommy to them. Hopefully, like that, they’ll see that Tommy isn’t a threat.”

“Hey! I can be a threat if I want to!” Tommy pointed at the admin. “And what if that doesn’t work and they try to kill me, eh? What then?”

“Then we fight,” He answered. “You’re a hermit now Tommy, and hermits protect each other. But as of right now, Tommy cannot be left unattended in case they try to hurt him. I have given you all schedules for when it’s your turn to be with Tommy.” Beside the teen, Stress pulled out her paper, names and times were written in order from breakfast to bedtime. His short time of freedom had come to an end. “I’m sorry that you can’t continue to work on your bases for extended periods now, but just think of this as a way to meet our newest hermit!”

The others around him chuckled and sent amusing glances toward him before they took off in different directions; which left Tommy feeling as if he was nothing but a toy being passed around in school. He understood that it was the best way to keep him safe, to make sure the hermits who wanted to hurt him didn’t get a chance, yet he couldn’t help feeling hurt that Xisuma didn’t ask him if it was alright.

He hadn’t known the admin for long, still wary of him especially now that tensions were high between him and Grian, as well as whatever happened with his helmet to make him use a mask instead. But Tommy believed that Xisuma was a better admin than Dream had been. So far the man had yet to ask him for favors, hadn’t yet asked him to do anything he wasn’t comfortable with, but there was still something about him that made Tommy shift in place when he glanced at Grian before he took off.

“Come on, Toms,” Grian hopped off the miniature stage and walked up to him, Pearl beside him. “It seems I have the first watch, you pick where we go.”

“We’re going to church prime.” Nodding his head, Grian grabbed Tommy’s hands and flew him up to the closest nether portal, hoping no one was on the other side when they went through.

–

The sun had begun to set behind them when they left the portal at Stress’s base. Nothing had changed much from when Tommy took up residence in her base, the chest monster was the same as it had been. Shulkers scattered the stone and andesite floors, items left hanging out of the chest and in piles around the wall of storage. Grass had begun to creep its way into the castle, small darts of green cracking through the gray like spiderwebs.

“Stress said you came here through her pond,” Grian asked. The two hadn’t spoken since they left Doc’s perimeter, finding silence better for their awkwardness.

“Yeah,” Tommy led him to it, the two-block deep water feature was as unassuming as ever. Small rocks lined the edges and kept most of the water in the pond and mobs from falling in, at the other end was a little waterfall that trickled softly into the larger body. Little fish took their time to bob and weave through the decorational–and mostly functional–plants that dotted the small area. “Apparently, I had spawned inside the dirt blocks at the bottom of the pond and was drowning when she and Iskall came to help. When they tried to pull me out, they said that there were like magic claws that were trying to pull me back.”

“Magic claws?” Grian stepped closer to the pond. The shorter blond man could feel the lingering magic that had transported Tommy from his other server, it was a cold magic, one he knew all too well. “Whoever did this was a watcher and they did this for a reason.”

“How can you tell?” Tommy asked.

“The magic used here was used by watchers of Lady Death, their magic has like a special signature to them,” Grian explained. “It’s different than Lady Irene’s just slightly, but enough to differentiate the two. But the bigger questions are who and why?”

“Which reminds me!” Tommy pointed to his uncle. “You have some explaining to do! Mum already told me her story, and now I want to know yours, bitch! I have a right to know.”

Sighing, Grian dusted off his pants before looking at his nephew. “Alright. Let’s go inside somewhere before the mobs start spawning.”

*****************************************

Ok listen…in my defense, I just kept writing and I forgot to actually publish what I was writing. Buuuut on the bright side I have a few chapters already lined up and ready to go, I might upload those soon but who knows!

Thank you so much for reading! Critique and comments are welcome!

Masterlist | Prev | Next

#hermitcraft #hermit!tommy au #dsmp fic #hc x dsmp #grian #tommyinnit #stressmonster101 #docm77 #watcher! grian #pearlescentmoon #hc xisuma #xelqua #impulsesv #geminitay #ethoslab #bdubbleo100

12 notes · View notes

ashewintercpu · 1 year

Text

Chapter 6 Dead in the water part 1

I was sitting on a stool next to Dean watching him circle obituaries in the newspaper.

I sighed in boredom and lowered my head onto my hand. The three of us were currently staying in a place called "The Lynnwood Inn". Dean and I finished eating and we were just waiting for Sammy.

I continued to watch Dean circle obituaries when an attractive blonde waitress approached us.

"Can I get you anything else?" She flirted with a seductive smile on her face.

Dean, Dad, and I tried not to make too much of a fuss or a scene during a hunt. We didn't want random people snooping in our business. It would only cause us more trouble. So Dean and I usually try to keep our relationship private. Because Dad didn't want us to draw attention so we promised that in public we would continue to pretend to be siblings. It was just more convenient for us. Dean of course was never one to follow that rule.

I hated it when girls flirted with Dean and there was nothing I could do about it. It was girls like her that I couldn't help but feel jealous of. She was blonde, in a revealing pink tank top, and wearing jean shorts that barely covered her bottom. She was beautiful. Man's greatest weakness.

Before Dean could reply I lifted my head out of my hand, "How about the check? Thanks." I replied snarkily with a smile.

"Okay." She answered and walked away but not without taking one last glance at Dean.

I huffed and propped my head against my hand as I watched her walk away. I glanced at my clothes comparing myself to the scantily dressed waitress. I was wearing a plain white long-sleeve shirt, a black leather jacket, and a black miniskirt with leggings underneath.

I was brought out of my thoughts when I felt someone watching me and from the corner of my eye, I could see Dean staring at me. I turned my attention over to him. He was grinning from ear to ear with a pen in his mouth.

"What are you looking at?" I asked with my brows furrowed.

"You're jealous." He smirked.

"I don't know what you are talking about." I innocently said as I crossed my arms and turned away from him.

I felt his hand grab onto my shoulder and before I knew it he pulled me into his chest. I laid my head against his chest with his right arm wrapped around me. I tilted my head back to look at him.

"What are you doing?" I asked. He didn't reply, he only lifted me onto his lap and made me face him.

My legs hung out from the side as he had one hand wrapped around my back and the other cradled my head, "You're cute when you're jealous." He whispered.

"I told you I-" He pulled me into a kiss before I could finish my sentence.

He caught me off guard and I tensed when I first felt his lips but soon enough I melted into him. With a soft sigh, I wrapped my arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. My mind felt hazy, I couldn't focus on anything other than the man in front of me. I felt shivers go down my spine as he continued to kiss me and caress my body. I placed one hand on his cheek and pulled back slightly to take a breath. I looked into his emerald eyes and couldn't help but be drawn by them. No matter how many times I've looked into his eyes, I could be with him for an eternity, and I'd still get lost in them. He lightly pecked my lips but before he could go any further I heard someone cough from behind us.

I raised my head and I saw Sam standing behind us. I felt blood rush to my face. I quickly squeezed Dean's shoulders and buried my face into his chest. I felt so embarrassed. I got so distracted by Dean I completely forgot we were in a public place. I immediately got out of Dean's lap and scurried back to my seat.

I heard Dean sigh as I left his embrace. I was so mortified I wished the earth would swallow me whole. I felt Sam's presence next to me as I wallowed in shame. I covered my face to hide from Sam's penetrating, humiliating gaze.

"You know, Sam, we are allowed to have fun once in a while." Dean groaned. "This is fun." I felt Dean gesture toward him and me.

Once I had composed myself I brought myself out of my pit of shame and turned to face Sam and Dean.

"Here, take a look at this. Think I got one. Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin. Last week, Sophie Carlton, eighteen, walks into the lake, doesn't walk out. Authorities dragged the water, nothing. Sophie Carlton is the third Lake Manitoc drowning this year. None of the other bodies were found either. They had a funeral two days ago." Dean explained to us as he showed us the newspaper.

"A funeral?" Sammy questioned.

"Without the body?" I asked as I furrowed my brows.

"Yeah, it's weird, they buried an empty coffin. For, uh, closure or whatever." Dean clarified.

"Closure? What closure? People don't just disappear, Dean. Other people just stop looking for them." Sam scowled.

"Sam!" I yelped.

"What." He snapped as he lightly glared at me. I couldn't help but sigh and look away. I knew that this wasn't about the case but about Dad.

"Something you want to say to me?" Dean asked as he looked at Sam. I slowly lowered my head. It was at times like these I hated sitting in between them.

"The trail for Dad. It's getting colder every day." Sammy said exasperatedly.

"Exactly. So what are we supposed to do?" Dean questioned as I sunk further into my seat. I ran my hand through my hair and sighed as they continued to argue.

"I don't know. Something. Anything." Sammy complained.

"You know what? I'm sick of this attitude. You don't think I wanna find Dad as much as you do?" Dean snapped.

"Yeah, I know you do, It's just-" Dean cut him off as they continued to argue. I could feel myself get more frustrated as they fought.

"I'm the one that's been with him every single day for the past two years, while you've been off to college going to pep rallies. We will find Dad, but until then we're going to kill everything bad between here and there, okay?" I knew I had to intervene before someone said something they would regret.

"Okay, that's enough," I said before they could say anything else and I lifted my head to look at both of them. They both stop and looked in the opposite direction of the other.

"Sammy, you need to show some respect to Dean. He's your older brother and he's only trying to do what's best for you. Nothing is going to come out of fighting." I explained as I placed a hand on his shoulder.

"As for you," I said and turned to Dean, "Try to be nicer to Sammy. We might be used to this but Sammy is going through a rough time. This isn't any easier on him."

"Do I make myself clear?" I asked. I only got a grunt in response. Dean suddenly pulled me into his chest once again and placed his head on my neck.

I placed my hand on his head as I felt him lightly kiss my neck, "All right, Lake Manitoc. Hey!" Sammy called out trying to gain our attention.

"Huh?" Dean said as he lifted his head from my neck.

"How far?" Sammy asked.

The three of us drove off and soon enough when I looked outside the window we passed by a sign that read "Welcome to Lake Manitoc WI."

Before I knew it we were pulling up in front of a house and Baby's engine stops. Dean and Sam got out first but before I could even move Dean open the door for me and placed his hand out for me.

I reached for Dean's hand as he helped me out of the car, "What gentleman." I laughed as Dean placed a kiss on my hand.

Sammy coughed and gestured to the house, "Come on." I said as Dean and I walked toward the house with Sammy.

Dean knocked on the door before someone came to open the door.

"Will Carlton?" Dean queried.

"Yeah, that's right." The man answered.

"I'm Agent Ford, this is Agent Hamil and this is Agent Fisher. We´re with the U.S. Wildlife Service." Dean said as he held up his fake ID.

He looked to inspect the ID and once he was satisfied, he gestured for us to follow him. We followed him as he brought us to the lake. In the distance, we could see an old man sitting on a bench on the dock. I couldn't help but pity the man as he stared at the lake.

"She was about a hundred yards out. That's where she got dragged down." Will told us as he looked at the lake.

"And you're sure she didn't just drown?" Dean questioned.

"Yeah, she was a varsity swimmer. She practically grew up in that lake. She was as safe out there as in her own bathtub." Will replied, glancing at the lake every so often.

"So no splashing? No signs of distress?" Sammy inquired.

"No, that's what I'm telling you," Will said.

"Did you see any shadows in the water? Maybe some dark shape breach the surface." Sammy continued to prod.

"No, I–Again. She was really far out there." Will explained.

"You ever see any strange tracks by the shoreline?" Dean asked as I continued to take mental notes.

"No, Never. Why? Why, what do you think's out there?" Will asked, concerned.

"Well let you know as soon as we do," Dean replied and started to head back to the car.

Before I could follow Dean, Sam asked, "What about your father?"

I turned to look at the poor man sitting at the dock. He didn't seem to be in the right state of mind. But who could blame him? He had just lost his daughter.

"Can we talk to him?" Sammy queried.

Will turned to look at his father before responding, "Look, if you don't mind, I mean...he didn't see anything, and he's kind of been through a lot."

"We understand," Sammy said before walking back to the Impala.

"Our condolences," I whispered as I placed a hand on his shoulder before following Sam and Dean.

"Now, I'm sorry, but why does the Wildlife Service care about an accidental drowning?" The sheriff asked. The three of us were currently at the police station searching for more clues.

"You sure it's accidental? Will Carlton saw something grab his sister." Sammy questioned.

"Like what?" The sheriff queried "Here, sit, please. There are no indigenous carnivores in that lake." He explained as we walked into his office and sat down.

"There's nothing even big enough to pull down a person unless it was the Loch Ness Monster." The sheriff jested.

"Yeah. Right." Dean laughed as we glanced at one another.

"Sir, we just want to be thorough. You can never be too sure." I lied with a professional smile on my face.

"Will Carlton was traumatized, and sometimes the mind plays tricks. Still-" He said as he sat down, "We dragged that entire lake. We even ran a sonar sweep, just to be sure, and there was nothing down there."

"That's weird, though. I mean, that's the third missing body this year." Dean mentioned.

"I know. These are people from my town. These are people I care about." The sheriff whispered with a downcasted look on his face.

"I know," Dean replied, his voice laced with sympathy.

The sheriff sighed as he leaned back into his chair, "Anyway...All this...It won't be a problem much longer."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked as I raised a brow.

"Well, the dam, of course." The sheriff said nonchalantly.

"Of course. The dam. It, uh yeah, sprung a leak." Dean stammered slightly as he improvised.

"It's falling apart, and the feds won't give us the grant to repair it, so they've opened the spillway. In another six months, there won't be much of a lake. There won't be much of a town, either. But as Federal Wildlife, you already knew that." The sheriff clarified.

"Exactly," Dean said in agreement as we heard a knock on the door.

"Sorry, am I interrupting?" I turned and stood up to see a young woman ask, "I can come back later."

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is my daughter." The sheriff introduced her as he stood up.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Dean." Dean said as he walked over to her and put his out for her to shake with his signature smirk on his face.

"Andrea Barr. Hi," She replied as she shook his hand.

"Hi," Dean repeated.

I folded my arms over my chest and rolled my eyes at Dean, "He's really pushing my buttons today." I thought.

"They're from the Wildlife Service. About the lake." The sheriff told Andrea.

"Oh." She whispered with a somber look. I narrowed my eyes and furrowed my brows as I looked at her. That was a weird reaction. As I was studying Andrea, a boy walked from behind her.

My eyes softened as I stared at the boy. I always wanted and dreamed of a child of my own one day. My dreams were eventually crushed when I realized that my lifestyle could never support them. when I was younger I prayed that I would be fortunate enough to one day be blessed to have a child like my parents. But I would never want an everyday life I was more than content and satisfied with the hunter life I was given.

"Oh, hey there. What's your name?" Dean asked but the boy left the room without even uttering a word. I smiled sadly as I watched him walk off. Andrea soon followed the boy.

"His name is Lucas." The sheriff answered.

From inside the office we watched Andrea gingerly give Lucas some crayons. Sammy then asked, "Is he okay?"

We turned to look at the sheriff for a reply, "My grandsons been through a lot. We all have."

"Well, if there's anything else I can do for you, please let me know." The sheriff said as we all walked out of the office.

"Thanks." Dean said before he turned around and asked, "You know, now you mentioned it, could you point us in the direction of a reasonably priced motel?"

"Lakefront Motel. Go around the corner. It's about two blocks up." Andrea turned around and answered.

"Two-would you mind showing us?" Dean innocently queried with a small smile.

Andrea laughed with an incredulous look on her face, "You want me to walk you two blocks?"

"If you don't mind, of course. He isn't exactly the best with directions" I said from behind Dean with a cheeky smile and a hand on his shoulder, "and having a lovely lady around wouldn't hurt either." I smiled.

"Then they definitely don't need me with you around." She laughed, "But I'm headed that way anyway."

Andrea turned to her father and said, "I'll be back to pick up Lucas at three."

She then turned to Lucas, "Well go to the park, okay, sweetie?" she said and kissed his forehead.

Andrea walked passed us as she left the station. Dean waved goodbye as we left.

"Thanks again," Sammy said as I took one more glance at Lucas before following them.

I walked next to Andrea, Dean, and Sammy right behind us, as she lead us along the street.

"So, cute kid," Dean mentioned, trying to make small talk.

"Thanks." She replied as we crossed a street.

"He seems like a sweet kid." I chirped with a smile.

"He is." She beamed at the mention of him.

"Kids are the best, huh?" Dean said trying to grasp at straws to make small talk. Andrea glanced at him and I couldn't help but giggle as she ignored him.

"What's it like? Being a mother I mean?" I offhandedly asked, sheepishly, "You don't have to answer if you're uncomfortable, of course." I blurted out, slightly embarrassed.

"No, no. Being a mother is a lot of adjustments. You are no longer just living for yourself or your husband but for your child. You would sacrifice your entire being and gladly do it all over again just for them to be happy. There's nothing else like it in the world." She answered passionately as I just stared at her.

"I know that look." She pointed out.

"W-what look." I stuttered out, surprised as my eyes widened.

"The look. When do you plan to have children." She queried as we continued to walk.

I could hear Dean choke on air from behind us. I sighed, "Uh, unfortunately, my career isn't the most conducive for children." I smiled sadly.

"That's a shame. I didn't think being in the Wildlife service would be that demanding." She commented.

"Ah, y-yeah. It's a tough job." I mumbled as we finally came to a stop in front of a building that said ‘LAKEFRONT MOTEL’.

"There it is. Like I said, two blocks." She said.

"Thanks," Sammy said

"Must be hard, with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pick-up line." She sassed as she looked at Dean and started to walk away. Unable to contain my laughter I bursted out laughing in shock.

"Enjoy your stay oh and by the way instead of trying your luck with me, you should keep a tighter watch on her." She called back over her shoulder as she motioned to me. I raised an eyebrow, confused.

I giggled and leaned back into Dean as we watched her walk away. I felt him wrap his arms around me as I tilted my head back to look at him.

"Kids are the best? That's the best you could come up with." I chuckled.

"You don't even like kids," Sammy added.

Dean turned to look at Sam and exclaimed, "I love kids."

"Name three kids that you even know." Sammy retorted as I watched in amusement.

"I can see two kids in front of me right now." I snickered as they both glared at me.

I turned my head and watched Dean as he racked his brain for an answer. When he came empty-handed Sammy waved his hand and started to walk into the motel.

"Im thinking!" Dean yelled out as he scratched his head. I giggled at his response and moved to follow Sammy when I was immediately pulled back into his arms.

"Oof! What was that for?" I breathed out, confused.

"You heard what the lady said. I should keep a tighter watch on you." Dean smirked as tightened his grip around me.

"Ha ha very funny. You and I know that's not what she meant. I swear you have been pushing my buttons all day." I remarked as I rolled my eyes at him.

"Hey, I can't help it. Look at this face." He replied sarcastically

"Oh, don't worry I totally understand," I whispered as I snaked my arms around his neck.

I pulled him closer and brought his face down to my height. He was so close that I feel his breath and his lips were feathered over mine. I stared into his eyes and just as he leaned in I pulled away.

He looked at me confused. I ran one of my hands through his hair, the other traced his lips and I whispered in his ear, "Just remember I don't share, and don't expect any kisses anytime soon."

Once I felt his grip loosen I pulled out of his arms and started walking to the motel. I heard footsteps from behind me and Dean shouting, "What? Sweetheart!"

"That's your punishment," I said as I turned to look at him and continue walking to the motel, "Sammy wait for me!"

"Sweetheart!"

#dean winchester #dean x OC #Sam Winchester #jealousy #fanfiction #fanfic #supernatural #SPN #chapter 6 #dead in the water

3 notes · View notes

piratesfromspace · 3 years

Text

Finance Management (Deckard Shaw/Reader)

Deckard Shaw (Fast & Furious) x Reader

Word count: 1.9k CW: mention of food & alcohol, smut

Female reader

Note: This short fic has been inspired by a friend of mine who created the character of the financial advisor of mister Shaw. Also there is not enough fics with Deckard Shaw so here we are.

Read on Ao3

MASTERLIST

“Mister Shaw, it’s me again, I’m so sorry but I really need you to call me back please. It’s important. Thank you.”

You let out a deep sigh as you hang up. Handling the finances of rich people is a lucrative and thrilling job, but damn it sometimes those clients of yours are annoying. Especially Mister Shaw.

First, he’s annoyingly busy and unreachable. Most powerful people are, but he can disappear for weeks on end without so much as sending an email.

Second, he’s also infuriatingly handsome and smart and funny. And he has an impeccable sense of style. He has nothing in common with the other clients of your firm, mainly old and boring men, whose only conversation subject is their money and how they hate their wives.

And finally, the worst thing about him is how good of a lover he is. You found out half a year ago, when you ended up in his bed after what should have been a regular business dinner. It was a mistake of course. One that could have cost you your career because it was a very serious breach of contract to sleep with a client.

You never told a soul, and you promised yourself to never do it again. But it was still hard to forget the feeling of him pressed against you, of his hands holding your waist, of his mouth between your thighs...

You try to focus again on your task and stretch your legs, kicking out your high heels. Feet bare on the soft carpet, you walk to the floor-to-ceiling window of your posh office, taking a second to admire the view, as the final rays of the sun disappear over the lake, and Geneva lights up under you. It’s breath-taking, really. But it also means you’re once again staying way too late at the office. Your assistant has gone home a couple hours ago, and your colleagues are either on vacation or on business trips, making you the only person on the building’s 7th floor. You still have a few things to finish so you plop on your leather chair and get back to work, hoping to make it home before 11pm.

That’s when you hear it: the familiar *ding* of the elevator’s door, at the end of the corridor. You tense immediately. You’re not waiting for anyone, and the security guards always use the stairs when completing their patrol.

Steps are coming down your way, and you grab your phone, ready to dial for the security team. And then you recognize his silhouette through the polished glass wall. There is a knock on your door before it opens to reveal Deckard Shaw himself. He’s wearing an expensive suit and an even more expensive watch, a very light stubble is highlighting his perfect jawbone and his deep grey eyes bear a mischievous glint. Handsome, as always.

“Mister Shaw…” you stammer.

“You know you can call me Deckard.” His stupidly sexy British accent and cocky smile will be the death of you.

He’s been in your office for two seconds and you already want to slap him in the face - or climb him like a tree, you can’t really decide.

“It’s quite late, Mister Shaw, you scared me. Anything I can do for you?” you insist on saying his family name, in a feeble attempt to maintain a professional façade.

“You needed to see me.” it’s more a comment than a question, and you’re suddenly reminded of the dozen of unanswered phone calls you made trying to reach him.

“Yes… yes, that’s right, but honestly you could have called tomorrow morning.”

“I’d rather see you in person.” he answers, looking you straight in the eyes. You can feel yourself blushing under his gaze. “Wanted to make sure you’re alright. You’re working too much you know.” he says with a soft smile, as his eyes drift down to your sore bare feet and then to the discarded heels under your desk.

What a condescending prick, you think. But at the same time, he’s right and his care seems somewhat genuine. It will not make you forget you almost lost your job because of him though.

“How did you know I was still here tonight?” you purposely redirect the attention on him, rather than you.

“Well, let’s say I would not leave the woman in charge of my assets without any... supervision.”

“Is that a polite way to say you’ve been spying on me?” you retort dryly.

“Oh I love when you’re getting all angry and snobbish, your French accent is even cuter.”

You’re gonna murder him. You really really want to tell him to go fuck himself, but he’s the one responsible for a very generous part of your paycheck, so you have to keep quiet.

“I would be more comfortable if we keep our conversation strictly professional, Mister Shaw.”

“Everything you want, dear.”

-----

“Mmph, fu-ck... Deckard, don’t stop”

The professional attitude has been long forgotten, since Deckard has pulled you onto his lap on the velvet couch of his presidential suite at the Four Seasons hotel, where you were supposed to only review the important documents he needed to see. But when the room service had brought a very nice bottle of Scotch, you knew you were screwed. You could not refuse a drink, and the warmth of alcohol combined with the warmth of his hand slightly brushing against your thigh had overcome all your resolve.

You are now sprawled on the king-size bed, moaning his name as Deckard Shaw is destroying your sanity very methodically. One foot on the floor, one leg bent on the edge of the bed, he’s pounding into you, holding your hip with one hand, and circling your clit with the other. His pace is calculated, not too fast so you can feel every inch of him, but not too slow so your nerves don’t have any respite, and it’s driving you crazy. Hands tangled in the dark silk sheets beneath you, you try to catch your breath to no avail.

“I won’t stop darling. Not until I can feel you coming again all over me.” His voice is like heavy honey, dripping all over your senses, drowning you in sweet and sinful promises.

You want to close your eyes to focus on the overwhelming feelings, but the view in front of you is too good to be missed. He looks like some demi-god, bathed in the subdued light of the room, broad and muscular chest, abs perfectly drawn. What is his job again? You vaguely remember him talking about serving a few years in the military when he was younger, but he is still definitely hitting the gym on a regular basis.

His muscles flex when he brings you down on his thick cock a little more sharply than before, and you keen as he hits that perfect spot inside of you. You can feel your orgasm build again, and so can he.

“You’re close, princess, aren’t you?”

You mewl in response and he chuckles darkly, keeping up with his ruthless assault on your most sensitive parts. He angles his fingers just a bit differently on your clit, and keeps thrusting into you, stretching you so perfectly you can’t remember the last time someone fucked you this good - wait , actually you can, it was a few months ago and it was by mister Deckard “annoyingly perfect” Shaw.

“Come on, I know you want to, I’ll keep going until you give me one more anyway princess…”

And that's it. You’re gone. Back arching off the bed, you come hard, harder than the first time, clenching around him. You barely hear him hiss in pleasure as you spasm helplessly on the soft sheets, the silk feeling almost cool against your burning skin.

----

“Good morning darling."

You open an eye, natural light is flooding the room, as is the delicious smell of fresh coffee and tea. At the foot of the bed, you spot a room service trolley loaded with breakfast treats and through the open door of the bathroom, you can see Deckard is looking at you in the mirror reflection while buttoning a crisp white shirt.

"Your tea is ready. Black, no milk, right?”

He's right and it's annoying because is there anything this man messes up?

"What time is it?" You ask, suddenly remembering you have a busy schedule today.

"You have 27 minutes to eat and get ready, so I can drop you off at your office in time for your first call of the day."

He knows about your tea preferences and your professional agenda, of course he does , he was not joking when mentioning the whole "spying-on-you" situation, or "supervision" as he liked to call it. He needs to stop it, but you decide to keep this discussion for another day.

You stretch, and rise to put on the hotel bathrobe, sighing at the thought of having to wear the same clothes as yesterday. Last you saw them, they were scattered on the floor all over the room and your underwear were positively ruined.

"The concierge was very helpful this morning, thanks to him I got you a few clothes delivered for today." Deckard adds as he pours himself a cup of coffee from the cart and gestures to the leather armchair where a couple of bags doning logos of luxury brands are perched.

You make your way to the packages, and open the first one to reveal a sophisticated dress, fitted and sexy, but not too much that it would be inappropriate as office wear. The second bag is a thoughtful selection of high end make-up products. And the last one contains a gorgeous set of lacy lingerie, nothing too raunchy but sexy nonetheless. Of course everything is in the right size.

"Thank you..." you whisper, a little stunned. The assortment must have cost him a couple grands at the very least - not that he can't afford it because you're well placed to be sure he can, but still, he did not have to do this.

You have to suppress a smile, because damn he's being annoyingly perfect once more, but you don't want to give him the satisfaction to reveal he was right when promising you could stay the night instead of going home and still look fresh for your day at work.

"I was thinking, I'm free tonight, so maybe we can finally review those documents, you know the ones you were supposed to show me before you jumped on me on the couch last night?" Deckard states as he bites in an apple in front of the window, casually looking at lake Geneva glinting in the bright morning sun.

You blush unwillingly, struggling to find a reply that would save you from admitting you had failed at enforcing your usual work ethic.

"I'm kidding dear!" He barks in a laugh. "I know enough to trust you on this venture, you have my approval to go on with the investment." He continues more seriously.

You open your mouth to answer but he's quicker.

"I'm not kidding about being free though, so what about dinner and then we can see where this takes us…"

When you don't answer immediately, he turns to look at you. Maybe he's realizing the situation can be awkward and precarious for you since you're technically working for him.

"You can say no, I won't take any offense." He adds without irony.

"Yes..." You finally answer, tip toeing toward him until you can snatch the apple he was eating from him. He protests but you shush him.

"...Yes, I would like this very much..."

As he starts to protest again, you take a big bite from the fruit with a knowing smile.

"...but only for dinner. Nothing more."

"You'll be the death of me." Deckard says, falsely irritated, his voice dropping lower.

"At least the feeling is mutual, mister Shaw ..."

#deckard shaw #deckard shaw x reader #female reader #fast and furious #hobbs and shaw #deckard shaw fanfiction #hobbs and shaw fanfiction #deckard shaw / reader #jason statham #jason statham imagine #smut #hobbs and shaw smut #deckard shaw reader insert #fast and furious fanfiction

1K notes · View notes