#that as soon as people watched it the hype was gone | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

avis-writeshq · 7 months

Text

02 — haunted

summary: “something’s gone terribly wrong, you’re all i wanted.”/“you’re not gone, you can’t be gone.” pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst warnings: rated 16+ for alcohol, religious talk (inaccurate portrayal of Christianity), vomit, INCREDIBLY CANON COMPLIANT ‼️IF YOU WERE TRIGGERED BY S2 EP15 REVELATIONS IN CRIMINAL MINDS, DO NOT READ THIS‼️ wc: 10.1k a/n: another special mention to @astrophileous for beta reading and hyping me up!! love you loads zahra 🤎 (she's also doing an AMAZING derek morgan series that i have the honour in beta-in so if you have time please do check it out!! it is an absolute work of art) SPARKS FLY MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST

There is never a dull day when working at the BAU. After weeks of cases and paperwork, a night out was exactly what everyone needed. A place to get drunk, have fun and unwind– and O'Keefe's was the exact place to do just that.

“You know, you can at least try to look like you’re having fun,” Emily muses, nudging your shoulder.

Emily joined the team soon after Elle had resigned, and as much as you missed your friend, you enjoyed Emily’s company. She’s too observant for her own good; grinning at you from across the room whenever you have the slightest interaction with certain people. She’s a brilliant addition to the team, much to your chagrin, but you know it’s all in good fun. Well, all in good fun for her.

You shoot her a playful glare, sipping on your drink. “I am having fun!”

“Liar,” Emily says instantly, grinning at you. “C’mon, what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” you deny, “I’m just tired. Things have been… busy to say the least. I’m just glad that the team is getting some R&R. Well deserved, might I add. How are you? You know, with joining the team and all that.”

She smiles in your direction before downing a shot and shrugging. “It’s been good! Yeah, everyone is so… welcoming. It’s nice.”

“Different to a desk job?” You ask with a teasing lilt in your voice.

Emily laughs softly. “Yeah, totally.”

Your gaze shifts to where Spencer is sitting, for once enjoying himself in such a crowded area. He’s talking to two strangers at a table, his hands gesticulating as he explains something and the two people seem thoroughly amused.

“So… Spencer, huh?”

You frown. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”

Emily laughs, “You’re staring at him with heart eyes. Anyone can tell. Except for him, apparently.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“For a profiler, you’re a horrible liar.”

You let out something that sounds akin to a dying cow, turning your attention back to your drink. Your attention wavers and it shifts back to Spencer who is enthusiastically talking about something to the two amused guests. He grins at them as they drink, his own cup still full. Derek is thoroughly enjoying himself as he dances with a group of girls, and you can see Aaron and Haley dancing together on the floor as well. It’s wholesome, seeing everyone in their casual wear and just having fun.

“You should talk to him,” Emily tries again, nudging you. “I’ll buy you a drink if you do.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You’re bribing me to talk to my best friend?”

“I’m bribing you to give me entertainment,” she corrects, laughing.

“You’re horrible,” you tell her, smiling, as you walk past her in Spencer’s direction. “I expect that drink to be delivered to me.”

“Deal!” She calls after you, downing a shot as she watches you.

Spencer smiles when he sees you make your way over to him, shuffling his chair to the side to give you more room.

“Hi,” he murmurs, pulling your seat closer to him. “Having fun?”

“I should be asking that to you,” you respond, smiling. The two people he was once talking to take their leave, giggling about something you couldn’t quite make out. “I didn’t mean to scare away your company.”

He immediately shakes his head at your words. “I’d rather talk to you anyway.”

You can’t help the silly grin that spreads across your face or the way your cheeks heat up and you cough. “Well, I hope I can live up to your expectations.”

Spencer laughs, his hand gravitating to your knee and he squeezes good-naturedly. “You exceed them.”

You think he’s trying to kill you and you swear you stop breathing as you choke out, “I’m glad.”

It isn’t long before Emily makes good on her promise, and a waiter appears on your left. He presents a drink to your table, the glass adorned with a lemon rind and a raspberry, and you eagerly take a gulp.

Spencer frowns a little as he watches you drink. “Aren’t you going to question who it’s from?”

“I know who it’s from,” you respond cheerfully, letting out a contented sigh. You offer the drink to him, moving the straw so that it’s pointing in his direction. “Want some?”

He eyes the pink drink suspiciously. “What is it?”

“It’s a Pink Bikini!” You chirp, sipping the drink again. “Like… coconut rum, raspberries, and lemonade. It’s good, Spence, you can barely taste the alcohol.”

His nose scrunches at the idea of coconut rum. “I dunno.”

“You’re not gonna get drunk from one sip,” you protest happily, a little tipsy. “It’s good! Besides, how do you know you’re not going to like it if you never try it?”

“You’re literally drunk right now!” He points out, laughing a little and moving the drink out of your reach. “Give it to me.”

“That’s only because I had a couple drinks earlier,” you argue, lunging for the glass. You’re quick but Spencer is quicker (and taller), and he chugs the drink before slamming it back onto the table. “Spencer!”

He grins at you, smacking his lips as he plays with the paper straw. “I’m protecting you, (Y/N). Who knows what you would’ve done if you drank any more.”

“You’re insufferable,” you chastise half-heartedly, “I was thirsty.”

“I have water,” he says, fishing a plastic bottle out of his satchel. He cracks the lid open, taking a sip himself before passing it to you. “Drinking even moderate amounts of alcohol can lead to dehydration. Drinking water slows down this effect, allowing the liver to metabolise the alcohol that was already consumed. This also means you won’t have as bad a hangover tomorrow morning.”

You beam at him, taking tentative sips from his water bottle. The fact that you’re drinking from the same bottle as him is not lost on you, nor the fact that he finished your drink by using your straw– your lipgloss stained straw– and he didn’t even bat an eye.

“What would I do without you?” You croon, handing his bottle back.

“Probably die of dehydration,” he responds, taking one last gulp of water, before returning the bottle back to his bag.

“Ah, yes, that’s right,” you laugh again, beaming at him. You’re not sure if it’s from the drinks, but you can feel your cheeks begin to flush. Did it get hotter in here?

“Hey, sorry to be the bearer of bad news but we have a case,” JJ pats your shoulder sympathetically, frowning. “Horrible timing, but it’s urgent.”

You all but whine. “But I’m tipsy.”

“I’ve got aspirin in my bag,” JJ says, “you’ll be fine.”

“Stupid serial killer,” you huff, getting up from your seat. “They owe me a day off.”

***

“You know it never fails. Just as I’m getting my groove thang going, bam! We’re back at the BAU,” Derek says, pouring himself a much needed cup of coffee and sitting at the roundtable.

Spencer shrugs. “You know, statistically, a case doesn’t come in with any more frequency if you’re at a party or gathering than if you aren’t. It’s a… trick of the mind. We merely remember the ones that came in that way more.”

“Besides, how long does it take for you to get your ‘groove thang’ going anyway?” You tease, sipping from your own cup of coffee, and Emily cackles from beside you.

“Only when he’s sleeping,” Gideon comments, walking into the conference room and taking off his coat.

Hotch’s brows raise in a mixture of surprise and concern. “Where were you tonight?”

“I told you, I went to the Smithsonian,” he grunts as he sits into his chair.

“You missed a good time,” Emily insists, smiling.

“I had a good time,” Gideon responds, his attention turning back to the screen where JJ was getting ready to present the latest case.

“Well, that’s definitely over,” she says, flicking the screen on. “Georgia. The Kyles– Dennis and Lacy– were murdered an hour ago in the suburban Atlanta home.”

Hotch’s brows raise in surprise. “An hour ago?”

JJ nods. “Police were on the scene unusually fast.”

“Why?” Derek asks, leaning over the table.

“One of the UnSubs called them and told them that the other was about to murder the victims.”

You huff out a laugh in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”

“From inside the house.” JJ purses her lips, gesturing to the transcript that was printed out in their files. “According to the dispatcher, the first male sounded terrified and begged them to get there before the other, who they both identified as Raphael, was about to kill the sinners that lived there.”

“‘Sinners’?” Hotch echoes.

JJ nods again, a grimace painted over her features. “The 911 centre is going to send Garcia the tape.”

“How fast was the police response time?” Spencer asks, glancing at the screen.

“Four minutes, twenty-six seconds. During which time Raphael was able to do…” JJ clicks a button on the remote and an array of gruesome crime scene photos popped up onto the screen. “This.”

“In four and a half minutes?” Emily asks incredulously, frowning.

Garcia immediately turns away from the screen, clutching her mug closer to her chest. You can’t help but cringe as well from the violence presented in the photos: blood everywhere, smeared across the walls and floors of the house, and the victims lifeless.

“Mr. Kyle is a dot-com millionaire. His company is one of the largest employers in the community. There’s going to be media coverage. Also, when they arrived, the police found this displayed prominently on the bed.”

Another image appears on the screen, this time a page of the Bible placed into a plastic evidence bag with a certain section highlighted.

“Revelation, Chapter 6, Verse 8,” Hotch reads for the rest of the team.

Derek can’t help but scoff. “They’re killing sinners.”

“These guys are on a mission. And mission-based killers will not stop killing,” Spencer says with a wince.

“‘And I looked, and behold, a pale horse, and his name that sat upon him was Death,” Hotch begins, eyes trained on the Bible page.

Gideon continues, his voice quiet and grim, “And Hell followed with him.”

***

You sigh tiredly as you slump into the seat beside Spencer, playing with the cap of your water bottle. The sky outside is painted in oranges and purples as the sun begins to rise, and you try to hold back the frustrated groan when you see the blaring ‘4:22AM’ flash on your watch.

“Is everything okay?” Spencer asks quietly, looking over at you.

You shake your head, running your fingers through your hair. “I just… I have a bad feeling about this case. There’s something… off about it.”

He hums in thought, “we’ve dealt with religious motives before, though.”

“I know but just–” you huff, leaning against the headrest. “It’s just weird. I mean, usually if one of the UnSubs were partnered with someone who was a liability, they’d eliminate them. But that’s just not happening here.”

“Don’t think about the case,” Spencer says gently, resting the palm of his hand flat against your knee. “It’ll be fine, trust me.”

When you don’t respond, he pokes your cheek gently shooting you a lopsided smile. “Hey. It’ll be okay.”

“I hope it will be,” you respond quietly, moving so that your cheek is pressed against his shoulder. “But you saw those images; what the UnSubs can do in less than five minutes. I know it’s nothing we haven’t seen before but–”

“(Y/N).” He squeezes your knee again and you flush as he continues to speak. “It’ll be okay. We’ll be back home before you know it. Trust me.”

You nod, although you can’t shake this feeling off. “Promise you’ll be safe?”

Spencer smiles at you. “Promise.”

***

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” you mutter, turning away as the video of Mr. Kyle being murdered plays on repeat. Your stomach churns at the mere mental image that pops up in your mind, and a chill run downs your spine.

The case is a lot more gruesome than you expected it to be, especially when it came to the team’s attention that a video of the murder was circulating the internet. The video was currently being played on loop, with the voice of the UnSubs playing out of the computer. You thought you saw it all but this was unlike anything you’ve ever experienced.

That is, until Spencer stood from his seat.

“Agent Franks?” He whispers, looking towards the lead detective. “Does this building have wireless internet?”

Agent Franks nods. “Yeah. Why?”

Spencer swallows, gesturing to the computer. “That camera’s on right now. The computer has connected itself to the internet; it’s streaming a video feed somewhere.”

Hotch’s concern only deepens, along with the frown on his face. “Can we trace the stream to the destination?”

“If we keep it open, Garcia might be able to–” Spencer begins, only to be cut off by a beeping from the computer.

In bright red lettering, the words: ‘THE ARMIES OF SATAN SHALL NOT PREVAIL’ flash against the black screen before turning off.

“So, they’re controlling it remotely?” Hotch asks, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Is that even possible?” Emily asks in disbelief.

“Yeah, you can totally access someone’s computer remotely. It’s actually done a lot today when a mortal calls for tech support. Instead of giving you instructions the tech can work on your computer from wherever she is,” Garcia explains through the phone.

“And they maintain the access even after the work is done?” Hotch asks.

“They’re not supposed to, but I suppose you could install a Trojan horse.”

Spencer turns to Gideon. “Something left in the computer to be turned on later. It’s the same way that websites get pop-up ads onto your computer.”

“Garcia can you check the Kyles’ phone records and see if they called tech support in the last six months?” Hotch requests as he flips through the Kyle family’s folder.

“Right-o. Oh, and if you get me the laptop I can search the drive for anything implanted there.”

Hotch nods. “As fast as we can.”

“By the way, this video? It’s gone crazy viral.”

Gideon frowns. “What does that mean?”

“That means it’s the most downloaded video on the entire Internet. Worldwide. And judging by the responses people seem to think it’s pretty cool.”

“Call us if you find anything on the Kyles’ computer,” Hotch mutters, before the phone hangs up.

“Honestly, they probably don’t even realise that the video is real,” you say quietly, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I mean, you see a video on the internet. The last thing you’d think is that it’s actual people being murdered.”

“They probably think that it’s marketing for a horror film or something,” JJ adds on, but the look on her face is just as disgusted.

“Well, the UnSubs were right about one thing,” Derek mutters, nodding grimly. “The world is pretty screwed up.”

***

After hours of going through files and trying to find a paper trail, you’re left with a mountain of paperwork in front of you and sore eyes. You press the pads of your fingers against the corner of your eyes, slumping over the table.

“Hey.”

Spencer’s voice brings you out of your thoughts and you peek a look at him. “Hm?”

A takeaway cup of coffee is placed in front of you and you immediately perk up. He chuckles softly, patting your head. “You looked like you needed it.”

You spy the name written across the paper cup and frown. “It’s your coffee.”

“You need it more than me,” he says honestly, smiling. “Besides, I’m okay.”

You take a tentative sip of the drink, the sweetness of the sugar overwhelming the bitter taste of the coffee but you don’t mind it. Instead, you didn’t actually mind it; especially because it’s from him.

“Thank you,” you murmur. “We can share it if you want.”

He shakes his head ‘no’, turning back to the files on the page. “Where did you get up to?”

“Nowhere special. Agent Franks is right; there’s nothing in any of the files relating to knife fights that are remotely similar to the case,” you say, slumping against the table and leaning your head on your arm. “I’ve got six or so left to go through but I’m not getting much luck anyway.”

At that moment, JJ enters the room, holding another cream coloured file. “What if we were looking at this the wrong way?”

Hotch turns to her. “What do you mean?”

“I looked for unsolved home invasions. Three months ago there was a prowler called in directly outside of the Kyles’ house.”

Your brows knit together at her words and look up at her. “A prowler?”

JJ nods. “The witness was walking his dog in a nearby park. Going back to his car, he saw a man in dark clothing go over the back wall and start sneaking up to the house. By the time the police got there, the prowler was gone.”

“Only one man?” Hotch asks.

“Apparently.”

“Was the witness able to describe the man?” Spencer questions.

JJ looks into the papers before shaking her head. “If he did, it’s not in this case file.

Hotch looks at JJ then back at the corkboard. “Is there a name and address to the witness?”

“Tobias Hankel,” JJ reads. “Lives about an hour from here.”

Hotch lets out a heavy sigh, rubbing his eyes. “It’s a long shot, but he might be able to give us a description. Why don’t you and Reid go out there, see if you can find Mr Hankel, and see if he remembers anything.”

You immediately frown, perking up at his words. “I can go too, sir. There’s a safety in numbers.”

“You’re exhausted and we need you here,” Hotch says, immediately shutting your suggestion down. “We don’t need three people to talk to a witness.”

Your face falls and your stomach churns. “I understand that, sir, but it’s late and wouldn’t it be safer if more people go?”

“We’ll be fine,” Spencer reassures, squeezing your arm. “We’ll be armed and we’ve got our phones.”

A small breath escapes you and you nod slowly, chewing your bottom lip. “Okay. Be safe.”

He smiles. “I will.”

JJ snickers lightly, turning to Hotch. “Be safe,” she echoes, grinning.

Hotch can’t help but chuckle as he returns with, “I’ll be so safe.”

“Oh shut up,” you laugh, rolling your eyes. “I’m gonna kill you.”

JJ grins. “But how will that keep us safe?”

You throw an eraser at her shoulder in response and she laughs loudly, walking out of the room. Spencer squeezes your arm again, rubbing your shoulder through the fabric of his jumper before following after her.

It isn’t long before the lead detective rushes into the room, his words flying out of his mouth. “Agent Hotchner, we got another murder.”

***

“Tobias Hankel is the UnSub.”

Five words is all it takes for your world to come crashing down around you. Hankel? The UnSub? Your mouth is dry as the head detective explains about the dogs and you think you’re going to throw up. Your mind spins and your chest pounds with anxiety because oh God, what’s going to happen to the others?

“We sent Spencer and JJ there,” you whisper, your throat closing up. You tug desperately at your collar, trying to breathe. “Oh my God, we sent them there. We sent them there.”

“Hey, hey,” Derek is quick to ground you, gripping your shoulders firmly. “They’ll be okay. It’s Spencer Genius Reid and Jennifer Bad-ass Jareau. They’ll be okay.”

You shake your head firmly, pulling away from his grasp and clutching your head. “I should be there with them. I should have gone with them. We don’t know what Tobias is capable of, Morgan, something could have happened to them.”

“We’re dispatching police now,” the detective says, getting off the phone.

Tears spill from the corners of your eyes and you try to keep your breathing steady. It doesn’t work. The room is spinning and you can’t see straight. The words your team are trying to get through to you fades into background noise and you let out a choked sob.

“They could be–” Your words don’t make it off your tongue and you turn, gesturing to the black screen that was once playing the video of the woman and the dogs. “Oh my God.”

“(Y/N),” Emily holds your shoulders tightly, her words a mixture of firmness and care as she tries to snap you out of it. “They’re going to be okay. We have to go there now.”

“They can’t be gone. Spencer can’t be gone,” you say, more to yourself than anything. “Yeah. Okay. Let’s go. We have to find them.”

The others don’t need to be told twice. You get into the passenger seat with Emily, trying to calm your breathing. One hour is too long. Why does Tobias have to live so far away? You press the palm of your hand to your mouth, the lump in your throat getting bigger. Hot tears fall down your cheeks as the world becomes a blur of flashing lights and you try not to cry. It’s your fault. You should have been there with him. There’s safety in numbers. Why didn’t you trust your gut?

“Don’t do that,” Emily says sternly, gripping the wheel tighter.

You can’t bring yourself to respond, merely shaking your head adamantly.

“Stop blaming yourself,” Emily tries again, glancing at you for a second before turning her attention back to the road. “It’s not your fault.”

“I should be there with them.” Your voice cracks pathetically and you wipe furiously at your eyes.

“You couldn’t have known.”

“I should have.”

She looks at you again. “Stop. You couldn’t have known. It’s not your fault.”

The rest of the car ride is silent. You’ve learned that this is the hardest part of the job: losing someone. Losing someone because of a job. It seems ridiculous, considering that it’s something so miniscule in the grand scheme of things, and yet it is the most common factor in divorces. A lack of commitment. Instead of committing to something that actually matters and can’t be replaced, their attention turns to something so lacklustre. If Spencer were here he would tell you the exact statistics. If Spencer were here, you wouldn’t even need to think about the statistics.

The sound of sirens echo through the once quiet country area and the police officers file out of their cars. You fasten your Kevlar vest over your chest hastily, fumbling with the clasps as you jump out of the car.

“John, Bobby, take the house with Hotch, Gideon and (L/N),” the captain orders, pointing towards the house.

Your stomach lurches as Hotch busts the door open, and you move upstairs with your gun pointed out.

“Clear!” You yell, rendezvousing with Hotch and Gideon soon after.

“Downstairs is clear,” Hotch says, nodding towards you.

“Then where the hell is he?” Gideon mutters, looking around the rooms of the house.

The blood rushes to your ears and the air grows thick. You can’t breathe. The house is unmaintained with mould growing in the corners of the rooms and dust gathering on the shelves, the paint on the walls cracking from water damage. Your eyes sting as the air pricks at your skin, and your legs carry you down the stairs and out the house.

“JJ,” you breathe, your eyes wide as you meet the blonde sitting at the back of an ambulance. You pull her into a hug. “You’re okay.”

It’s a different JJ to what you’re used to. She’s always been put together with not a hair out of place. She’s usually so full of life and mirth, bringing a sense of serenity and security when you need it most but this…

Her blue eyes are red and puffy from crying and she’s shaking miserably against your body. She scratches at her wrists and picks at the bandages, her bottom lip trembling. Her gun is set beside her, not in the holster she usually carries it in.

“(Y/N),” she sobs, her voice cracking. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“What happened?” You demand. “Where’s Spencer?”

“I’m so sorry,” she repeats, shaking her head. “I tried–”

“Where is he, Jennifer?” You ask, pulling away from her like she burned you. “Where is he?”

She sobs again, clutching her head. “I don’t know, we separated–”

“What do you mean you separated?!” You’re trying not to scream. Your thoughts are running a million miles an hour. Spencer is gone. He’s gone. “Why would you do that?”

Jennifer lets out a wail, trying to explain herself through broken words. “We didn’t– he said– I’m sorry I’m sorry–”

“‘Sorry’ doesn’t bring him here, does it?” The words are harsh and low, and you tug at your collar again. “He’s not here, Jennifer! Does that mean nothing to you?!”

“(L/N), that’s enough.”

Hotch’s voice makes you snap your head in his direction and you see red.

“I told you I should have gone with them,” you snap, and it doesn’t even occur to you that this man is your boss. “If I went with them, Spencer would still be here right now!”

“(L/N).”

“No.” You glare at him menacingly, too deep in your anger to even comprehend anything else. “He should be here right now! He should– he should be spouting out statistics or coming up with some theory! He should be here and he’s not!”

“We’ll find him. Trust me.”

“I did!” You yell, your voice fervent. “I trusted your judgement! And look where that got us. Spencer is gone. He’s not here, Hotch, because I trusted you!”

“(Y/N), enough.” Hotch is firm and he stares you down. “That is enough, do I need to remind you who you are speaking to?”

In an instant you stop, your heart lurching and you quiver. “... This is my fault.”

He immediately shakes his head no. “It’s not your fault.”

“I should have gone with him. I should have– it’s my fault. It’s my fault.” Your eyes well with tears and you tug at your hair erratically. “He can’t be gone. He’s not gone. He’ll figure something out. Why didn’t I do something? I should have–”

“Stop it. (Y/N), stop.” Hotch grips your shoulders squarely, bending down so that he’s eye level with you. “Take deep breaths.”

Your lungs burn as you try to breathe, hot ragged breaths leaving your lips shakily as you cover your face with the palms of your hands. Tears fall down your cheeks and gather in your hands as you make a desperate attempt to calm yourself down. It’s all too much. The sky is pitch black and the feeling of cold rain stings and bites your skin. The sounds of sirens fade away and for a moment it’s just quiet. Quiet, except for the words and the voices that swirl in your mind.

“A man that matches Hankel’s description was spotted in the next town over.”

Derek’s words bring you out of your thoughts and you manage a soft, “What?”

“Alright,” Hotch nods, before turning back to you. “Go back to the police department.”

“What?” Your ears are ringing. You must have heard wrong. “No. No, no, I can’t– no, Hotch, I’m not going back to the police department. Spencer is missing.”

“You’re too close to the case.”

A humourless laugh leaves your lips as you stare at him. “We’re all too close to the case, Hotch. Look around!”

“You attacked JJ and you raised your voice at me. I want you to go back to the police department and work the case from there.” He speaks to you as if he were speaking to a child and it makes you feel sick.

“Oh, so you’re punishing me?”

“No, I’m using you,” he says firmly, and then his voice softens. “It won’t do you any good to be here, (Y/N), you know that.”

“Aaron,” you try again, your voice wavering. “Please, don’t do this to me.”

“Go back and find us something that we can use.” He turns to one of the policemen. “Make sure she gets there.”

The policeman nods, tipping his hat, and gesturing for you to follow him.

“Wait I– let me talk to JJ. I need– just, please,” you say quickly, clearing your throat. “Sir.”

He’s sceptical before nodding. “Go ahead.”

You don’t need to be told twice. In moments you turn back to the ambulance, letting out a heavy breath. “I’m sorry.”

JJ shakes her head adamantly. “No, you’re right. It was my fault.”

“It’s not,” you say quietly. “I know Spencer and I know you. It was… probably his idea to split up.”

She smiles wryly, fiddling at the bandage on her arm.

“It’s not your fault,” you say again. You’re not sure who you’re trying to convince anymore. “You went through something too and I ignored that and that wasn’t right of me. I’m sorry.”

JJ sniffles, pursing her lips. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you respond quietly, patting her arm. “I need to go. Um, Hotch wants me off the case, or something.”

She nods. “Okay.”

You look at her again, the guilt building like bile in your stomach. “I really am sorry.”

“I know,” she whispers, wiping the tears away from her eyes. “We’ll find him.”

You don’t respond.

***

Everything hurts. His head is pounding and he can feel the sticky blood drip from the side of his head and against his cheek. His feet hurt from each thwack of wood, and his wrists hurt from the handcuffs. It’s cold. So, so cold, and he feels so weak. No amount of knowledge or training could have prepared him for this.

Spencer’s throat throbs from crying. No matter how many times he tries to convince whatever personality is taking over Tobias, it never seems to work. What’s the point of being a profiler if he can’t even save himself?

The creaking of the door brings him out of his thoughts and he jolts. Tobias, at least who appears to be Tobias, enters the room carrying a slaughtered animal. A shiver runs down Spencer’s spine and all he can do is watch.

“You need to eat,” the man says, his voice strangely soft and oddly calm.

“What’s your name?” Spencer asks, his voice small.

The man looks back at him. “Tobias.”

“Tobias, who was here before?” The fear is obvious in his voice and Spencer just wishes for an ounce of Hotch’s stoicism or Derek’s bravery.

Tobias chuckles weakly. “It was probably my father. I’m sorry if he hurt you.”

Before he could comprehend his movements, Tobias takes off his belt and walks over to him. Spencer fears the worst. Did Tobias’s father take over again? He tries to inch away, struggling against the restraints as best he could.

“W-What are you doing?” Spencer asks shakily, trying to pull away from him.

Tobias doesn’t respond, slipping one end of the belt above his elbow. Everything begins to click.

“No, no. Don’t. Please, please don’t.” He resorts to begging.

In this moment, Spencer hates the way his mind works because he doesn’t need to know the statistics. He doesn’t need to know that 75% of drug abusers started out using pain killers. His head swirls with what Tobias could be using. Codeine? Heroin? Opium? The list goes on and he tries to keep his breathing steady.

“It helps,” Tobias says, ignoring the way Spencer trembles and shakes his head adamantly. “Don’t tell my father. He doesn’t know they’re here.”

Tobias takes the syringe and the bottle out of his pocket and Spencer sobs even harder. He tries to appease him again, shrinking away as best he could in his chair.

“Please,” he tries again, his chest heaving and tears wetting his waterline. “Please, I don’t want it, I don’t want it.”

“Trust me. I know.”

“Please,” he begs, tears slipping down his cheeks. “Don’t.”

Tobias doesn’t listen.

The effects are far too quick for codeine, heroin or opium and Spencer can feel it hit. He knows it’s wrong. He can go on for hours about the statistics about it but the feeling so euphoric that he can’t help it. And then he sees it.

“We have another recruit as well. Came in a couple weeks ago,” Derek told him, walking him through the halls of the BAU headquarters. “She’s part of the academy Honours program. Top of the class, apparently.”

“Oh.” Spencer nodded slowly, fidgeting with the zip of his bag.

Derek grinned. “Relax, kid. You still have the most impressive résumé. She’s just an intern; doing paperwork, mainly.”

“I wasn’t– I wasn’t worried about that,” Spencer stammered, wetting his bottom lip. “I mean– not that I think she isn’t smart or anything. I just meant–”

“Kid, I mean it when you have to relax,” Derek snorted as he opens up the door to the bullpen “Meet the rest of the team.”

He walked through the doors, ready to make his mark. He’s spent so long believing that he was nothing but now… he took another step, meeting Hotch’s gaze and– he didn’t get very far when something catapulted into his side. There was a flurry of paper work and cream coloured files, case details splayed all over the floor. Spencer grunted a little, tumbling to the ground like a house of cards.

“Oh, my God, I am– I am so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going and I was running and I am not used to office attire! I am so sorry!”

The ramblings of a girl– she couldn’t be older than him, at least, not by much– filled Spencer’s ears and he grimaces. “No, it’s– it’s okay. Don’t– uh– don’t worry about it.”

“(Y/N)...” JJ huffed out a quiet laugh, helping the other girl to her feet. “Are you guys okay?”

“I’m okay,” Spencer said, slowly getting to his feet.

The girl didn’t do the same, instead scrambling to pick up the multitude of papers that litter the floor. “I’m fine! Just– great. Great. Brilliant.”

Spencer immediately started to reach for the papers, trying his best not crumple them up anymore than they already were. “You’re… the intern?”

“Is it that obvious?” You ask, breathless. “I’m still getting used to all…” You gesture wildly to the interior of the bullpen. “... this.”

“(Y/N), meet Doctor Spencer Reid. He’s the youngest addition to the team. Reid, meet (Y/N) (L/N). She’s part of the Academy Honours Program,” Gideon introduces, peering at the two of you from behind his glasses.

“Hi,” you said meekly, stretching out your hand.

His words hitched in his throat because once he’s gotten past the flying papers and the fact that you literally ran into him, he realises just how beautiful you are. You were right there in front of him, close enough to touch but–

“I don’t shake hands,” he said quietly, the anxiety gnawing at his stomach. His fingers twitch at his sides and he moves them to grip the handle of his satchel. “Sorry.”

You smile at him and his heart thunders in his chest. Is this how Romeo felt when he met Juliet? Or how Charles Bingley felt when he met Jane Bennett?

“It’s okay,” you told him, tucking the papers under your arm. “Don’t worry about it. So, you’re a doctor? That’s really cool!”

“Reid here got accepted into the BAU without even taking a physical exam,” Derek chimed in, practically bragging about Spencer’s intellectual prowess. “Isn’t that right, kid?”

“I’m not an athletic person,” Spencer said awkwardly, his worries dissipating when he heard you laugh good-naturedly. Regardless, he felt the urge to defend himself. “I’m not weak.”

JJ laughed along. “We know, Spencer.”

“I’m not weak… I’m not weak…”

“I don’t give a damn whether you’re weak or strong.”

Spencer barely manages to blink his eyes open as he hears the familiar timbre of Tobias’s father’s voice fill the room. He’s slowly coming down from the high of the drugs and the room spins as he does.

“Yell all you want boy,” Tobias sneers, bending down so that he’s eye level with Spencer. “Ain’t no one gonna hear you where you are.”

As if to prove his point, he begins to scream. Deep and rumbly, and it jolts Spencer back to reality. He wishes he was careful. He wishes he was with you.

***

“Tobias has dissociative identity disorder,” Garcia explains to you through the phone, and you slap a hand to your forehead.

“That makes so much sense,” You mutter to yourself, pacing around the room of the police department. “I should have seen it. It was right there in front of me and I missed it.”

Penelope hums, her voice tense with worry. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. No one knew until we started digging into the journals and cross-checking dates.”

“I know but–” You rub your eyes, cringing as stars litter your vision– “it was just so obvious. What else have you gotten?”

It has been a little over ten hours since Hotch sent you back to the police department and you haven’t gotten much sleep. You tried, you swear you tried, but every time you see the terrified face of Spencer and it makes you sick. The whiteboard in front of you is littered with different evidence files and profiles. Profiles on Tobias, profiles on the victims, geographical profiles… the list goes on.

“We know that Tobias is an addict,” Emily says. “He picked dilaudid as his poison.”

“For someone so hellbent on following the Bible, he’s incredibly hypocritical,” You say, jotting down the words onto the whiteboard.

“His personality is split into that of his father, Charles, and Raphael,” Emily continues, and you can hear the frown in her voice.

You’re about to say something when Garcia’s voice raises by an octave.

“Oh God,” she squeaks, and you can hear the clicking of keys in the background. “Morgan? Emily, get the others, oh my God!”

“What’s going on?” You demand urgently, gripping the phone tighter. “Garcia, what’s going on?”

“It’s Spencer,” her voice is hushed and far from the speaker, and your heart sinks to your stomach.

“What happened? Penelope, what happened?”

“We have to go,” she says hurriedly, and the sound of footsteps from the rest of the team fill the speaker.

“No! Wait, don’t hang—“

The sound of the prolonged dial tone echoes in your ears and you resist the urge to scream. You press the pads of your fingers to your eyes, hot tears wetting your skin. Crying will get you nowhere and you know that. You know that Spencer is holding on. He’s relying on the BAU to save him.

You gather all the available files on Charles Hankel, spreading them around the table. There’s not much to read; he’s lived a relatively quiet life. He was a farmer, his wife left him… dead end. Again. You’re at your wit’s end and you grab your keys.

“John, want to work on a federal case?” You ask, shaking your keys. The younger policeman nods eagerly and you point to the door. “Great. Let’s go.”

It’s a small country town in Atlanta. Someone has to know something, especially if Tobias was a drug abuser.

“We’re going to a few Narcotics Anonymous groups,” You explain to John who looks a little too excited to be sitting in a federal car. “Ask questions on Tobias Hankel and Charles Hankel. Someone has to know something.”

“All due respect, um, ma’am,” John stammers, and you raise an eyebrow amusedly. He coughs before continuing, “why aren’t you with the rest of the team?”

You falter, turning your attention back to the road. “They need me to work it from here. It doesn’t matter, anyway.”

Two miserable hours pass by with not much luck. Two hours that could have been used for something more meaningful than asking a bunch of drugged up assholes about the UnSub. Anxiety claws at your chest again as you flick through the answers. It’s nothing you didn’t already know.

“I got something,” John says a little breathlessly, jogging back over to you.

“Yes?” You need something. Anything.

“A few sheep were stolen off of a farmer’s property,” he says, flipping through the notebook and reading off his scrawny handwriting. “Wasn’t Charles a farmer?”

“What does that have to do with–” You feel your mouth go dry and you turn to him. “Which farm?”

“Which– um…” He swallows. “Mcallister? Shawn Mcallister.”

In seconds you’re dialling Garcia again and she picks up with a trembling, “hello?”

“Is Spencer alive?” You ask firmly, slamming the car door.

“Y-Yes. He’s– it’s not good, (Y/N),” she whimpers, clicking on the keyboard. “There was another murder. Spencer had to– he had to– he had to choose who to save. The UnSub fed a video to us, (Y/N), it’s horrible.”

There was another murder? John seizes up beside you and you grimace. You keep forgetting that John is practically a kid, barely twenty-one, and he hasn’t even seen the horrors of the world yet.

“But he came back, right? To Spencer?” You ask, gripping the steering wheel tighter in an effort to keep yourself steady. “Penelope, Tobias posted a video of the latest murder, right? When was it posted?”

“9:23,” she says woefully, typing away.

“Okay, and…” you check the police radio, biting your lip nervously. “Okay, it says that the call for the murder came in at 9:04.”

There’s a little static in the background along with some shuffling before she responds. “Um… okay?”

“John, I need a map. Where’s– goddamn it– where’s the map of the area, John?!”

He fumbles, spreading the paper open. “Here!”

“That road– it’s 60 miles an hour, right? That means he needs to be–” you scribble across the map, frowning. “That’s within seventeen miles of the crime scene. There’s a farm, uh, poaching or something. Mcallister farm?”

“We’ll find something,” Penelope says quietly. “I’ll try find the farm area. He is going to be okay, I promise.”

You let out a heavy breath. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

***

The guilt alone is enough to kill him. Spencer knows that he is not at fault for this; Gideon said so. Regardless, he can’t get their faces out of his head. They were happy. What if they had kids? They were good people; they didn’t deserve to die the way they did. Spencer’s head pounds as he slumps against the chair, his breath quickening when he realises that Tobias is right there.

“Sorry, I had to leave for a while,” Tobias, the real Tobias, says quietly, strapping the belt to Spencer’s arm again.

He’s felt this so many times now. The high, and then the inevitable low. There’s no point fighting it, Spencer tries to justify, it’s biology.

“You can leave again,” he says softly, “and you can take me with you.”

“My father would be angry,” Tobias says, drawing the liquid up the syringe.

“Not if he can’t find us.”

Tobias scoffs. “He always finds me.”

“If you tell me where we are, my friends will come and they’ll save us,” Spencer pleads, trying to look him in the eye.

“We can’t be saved,” he says dismissively, flicking the syringe.

Spencer sniffles, and for a split second he feels the fear course through his veins. “We can. We can, I promise, if you tell me where we are I’ll save us both.”

“Listen to me. It’s not worth fighting.” Tobias pauses, readying the syringe. “Tell me it doesn't make it better.”

The silence that follows is humiliating. He hates the way that he isn’t fighting anymore but he can’t. It’s almost as if his body doesn’t even want to listen to him. Tobias doesn’t waste another moment and the familiar feeling of artificial ecstasy floods Spencer’s mind.

“Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

The phrase was so unfamiliar and Spencer’s brows furrowed as he looked at you. It has been a couple weeks since you were officially indoctrinated into the BAU and he couldn’t be any happier. It felt nice to talk to someone who was his age, especially because he never really knew anyone of his age back in Las Vegas.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

You laughed and his heart fluttered in his chest. He remembered the feeling distinctly; how could he forget? The feeling is still the same now.

“I mean… tell me something not a lot of people know about you. Like… okay, I’ll go first. Um… my favourite flowers are hydrangeas. The purple ones.”

He committed that information to memory. Every year for your birthday he would buy you a new pot of hydrangeas for your apartment or something flower related like an automatic waterer or a replacement sun lamp.

“Hydrangea macrophylla,” Spencer said slowly, his cheeks flushed. “It means… gratitude, grace, and beauty. It’s fitting.”

He relished in the way your eyes lit up and the way you smiled at him. “Okay, your turn. Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

“Um… my middle name is Walter?” He chuckled awkwardly, wetting his bottom lip. “No one really calls me that, though.”

You typed something on your computer, reading out loud, “The name Walter is Germanic in origin and means ‘commander of the army’.”

His cheeks burned in embarrassment and he nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

“I like it.” You grinned at him. “Walter.”

Spencer choked a little, the hairs on his neck standing on end and heat crawling up his cheeks. “You– you don’t have to call me that.”

“I won’t if you don’t like it,” you told him.

“It’s not that I don’t like it,” he said quickly, his eyes widening. “I’m just not used to it.”

He remembers the way you beamed at him and the way he felt knowing that he made you happy.

“Well then,” You began, meeting his gaze, “I guess that means I just have to call you that more often.”

Tobias’s yelling brings him back and all he can do is stare as he watches him slam on the keyboard angrily. A bright red pop up is flashing on his computer, and Tobias turns to Spencer with a murderous scowl.

“They’re trying to silence my message.”

“I can’t control what they do,” Spencer defends tearfully, his voice wavering. “I’m not with them, I’m with you.”

Tobias scoffs again. “Really?”

He types something onto the keyboard and Gideon’s face show’s up on the screen. He’s leaning towards the camera, his words a mantra that Spencer repeats in his mind.

“Reid,” the crackly audio sounds with Gideon’s voice, “if you’re watching, you’re not responsible for this, understand me? He’s perverting God to justify murder. You are stronger than him. He cannot break you.”

Tobias slams the computer off, walking back to him. “You think you can defy me?”

“I don’t know what he’s talking about–”

“You’re a liar!”

Spencer can only grimace in response, the words caught in his throat. Tobias must have been able to see something and the fear creeps into his heart again as the man lunges for his arm. Tobias forces Spencer’s sleeve up and the guilt crashes like waves.

“You’re pitiful,” Tobias sneers, “Just like my son.”

Spencer wracks out a sob, silent pleas of mercy never leaving his lips. Maybe he does deserve this. Maybe, in some sick and twisted way, the universe is out to get him for all his shortcomings. Maybe, he thinks to himself as he watches Tobias turn the camera on, maybe he does deserve to die this way.

“This ends now,” Tobias snarls. “Confess your sins.”

“No,” he whimpers.

Tobias’s fist collides with the side of Spencer’s face with a resounding slap.

“Confess!”

“I haven’t done anything…”

His fist meets Spencer’s cheek again and all he can do is recoil in his chair.

“Tobias, help me,” he manages, but his plea is shut down almost instantly.

“He can’t help you, he’s weak. Confess!” He hits him again and the pain is almost too much to bear. “Confess your sins.”

Spencer sobs. “No…”

In a fit of anger, Tobias throws Spencer to the ground. It hurts. Everything hurts as he feels the back of his head meet the cold musty ground. He can’t breathe. He feels like he’s underwater. Have to breathe, he needs to breathe, why can’t he breathe? He needs to see you again. He can’t die like this. He can’t, he can’t, he needs to breathe. He tries to take a breath of air but it’s like his mouth is full of water. And just when he thinks he reached the surface, he’s pulled under once again.

Warmth. The feeling of his blood pumping to his ears is the first thing Spencer feels and his fingers twitch. He’s alive. There’s only one reason why that must have happened.

“I was given CPR,” he rasps out, Tobias’s words swirling in his head.

“There are no accidents,” Tobias says slowly. “How many members are in your team?”

Spencer can barely whisper the word. “Eight.”

“Seven, not including you. ‘The seven angels who had the seven trumpets prepared themselves to sound. The first sounding followed hail and they were thrown to Earth’.” He hoists Spencer’s chair upright, standing before him. “Tell me who you serve.”

“I serve you.”

“Then choose one to die.”

Spencer blanches, looking up at him. “What?”

“Your team members. Choose one to die.”

He doesn’t need to think when he responds, “kill me.”

Tobias jeers. “You said you weren’t one of them.”

“I lied.”

“Your team has seven other members. Tell me who dies.”

Spencer breathes in as if it were his last. “No.”

Tobias pulls out a revolver from his jacket pocket, spinning the cylinder before aiming it for Spencer’s head. “Choose, and prove you’ll do God’s will.”

“No.”

Tobias clicks the trigger and nothing happens so he repeats, “choose.”

“I won’t do it.”

The trigger clicks again and nothing happens. “Life is a choice.”

“No.”

Spencer’s mind is racing. His first thought goes to you. He knows you would understand any and all references he throws in your direction, but it makes him sick just thinking about putting your life on the line. He needs something. He needs to think.

“Choose.”

“I choose…” his voice stammers and he can barely see straight. “Aaron Hotchner.”

***

“We got him.”

The words echo in your mind as you pace up and down your hotel room, chewing on your destroyed nailbeds. It’s nearing two in the morning and you can’t sleep. The rest of the team are awake. Why should you be given the privilege of rest when none of them were able to? Why should you be given the privilege of rest when Spencer is out there fighting for his life? It’s not fair. Life isn’t fair.

When you hear the sirens outside you run out the door. Blood is pulsing in your ears and you’re still wearing the thin hotel slippers but it doesn’t matter. How could anything else matter? The car door clicks open and Emily helps Spencer out of the car. She whispers something to him and he looks in your direction. Those big hazel eyes stare at you with so much hurt and you can’t contain it anymore.

“Spencer.”

His arms wrap around your waist, his nose pressing against your neck as he holds you, breathing in the smell of your vanilla perfume. He almost doesn’t believe you’re real. He pulls you impossibly closer, sniffling, and he can feel your fingers run through his hair.

“You’re okay,” you whisper, trying to be reassuring, but he can hear the way your voice cracks. “You’re okay.”

“I should have listened to you,” He whimpers, feeling the cold wet rain soak through his shirt. “I should have– I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head. “Don’t be, Walter.”

The moment he hears that name spill from your lips he begins to cry. He’s okay. He’s with you now. You’re right here.

“I thought–”

You shush him for the first and last time, squeezing his arms. “It’s okay. You’ll be okay.”

He wonders how a person could be so warm. Even in the cold Atlanta weather you’re still so warm.

“Hotch wouldn’t let me work the case from the house,” you tell him quietly as you sit beside him on the bed. “Understandable. I screamed at him.”

He chuckles a little, flinching when you gently pull the bandage off the side of his face. He feels a lot better now that he’s clean, the shower more than necessary and he savours the feeling of warm water on his skin. The gash on his head is oozing sticky blood and you dispose of it accordingly, reaching into the first aid kit.

“It’s gonna sting a little,” you tell him, pressing a damp cloth to the wound.

He hisses at the contact, gripping your arm and he tries to change the subject. “Why did you scream at Hotch?”

You hum, continuing to clean the blood off his head. “I was mad at him.”

“It wasn’t his fault.”

“I know.”

You smile at him, applying a new bandage to his head. “It’s okay. I was able to help the case from here, anyway.”

“Stay with me,” he whispers, squeezing your hand. “Please?”

Your gaze softens. “Of course, Walter.”

He curls into your side, an arm wrapped around your middle and he breathes in the scent of your strawberry and honey shampoo. Your fingers curl in his hair, untangling the knots when your eyes flicker to your desk, the letter of resignation tucked inside your bag. He doesn’t need to know that. At least, not yet.

***

You knock at the door of Hotch’s office, chewing on your bottom lip. You remember being in this office for the first time four years ago when you were an intern; the way you shook with nerves and anticipation as you handed in your résumé for the honours program and then again when you were hoping to take the job full time. It’s ironic that you’re back at his office again, but for a very different reason.

“Come in.”

The breath that leaves your lips is shaky and you take a seat in front of his desk. “Hotch.”

“(Y/N).”

You place the pristine white envelope onto the desk,watching the way his face shifts from stoic to surprised.

“You don’t have to do this,” He says, not touching the envelope. “The situation at hand was stressful. No one blames you for reacting the way you did.”

“It’s not just because of that,” you say slowly. “You were right. I was too involved.”

He shakes his head. “That’s not true.”

“It is,” you say quickly, a humourless laugh slipping at your words. “I would have killed him.”

Hotch looks at you, his eyes meeting yours. “You wouldn’t have.”

“I would have,” you say surely. “After what he did to Spencer, if I had found him I would have killed him. And I would have– I would have slept well. I love this team, Hotch, but I can’t separate those feelings when I’m on the field no matter how hard I try.”

He’s quiet for a moment before nodding, rising from his seat. “I’m assuming it’s a two-week’s notice?”

You nod, also getting up from your chair. “Yeah. I– I don’t want to just leave, you know?”

“We’re going to miss you,” he says, walking with you to the door, “but this will be good for you.”

“I know.” You can feel the stares of the rest of the team through the glass and you can’t help but smile. “They’re horrible at being nonchalant.”

“They’re profilers,” Aaron chuckles. “Can you blame them?”

“I guess not,” you muse, pulling the door open. “Thank you, Aaron.”

“You always have a place here, (Y/N),” he says gently as you walk back down to the bullpen.

It doesn’t take long before the overflowing dam of questions burst and in moments Emily is crossing the room and sitting next to you.

“You’re leaving the BAU?”

You look at her with wide eyes before laughing a little. “You… are very good at your job, huh?”

“Oh…” Penelope tackles you in a hug, her arms tight around your frame. “We’re going to miss you.”

JJ sniffles a little, joining the hug. “Don’t forget us.”

“As if I ever could.” A bittersweet smile rests on your lips.

Derek hugs you as well, his chin on the top of your head. “Look after yourself, kid. We’ll make these last two weeks the best you’ve ever had.”

“If you ever need anything…” Emily begins slowly, squeezing your hands. “I’m here, okay?”

Gideon pats your shoulder lightly, a sad smile on his face. “You’re a good person. Never forget that.”

You nod, trying to blink away the tears that fill your eyes. “I know. Thanks, you guys.”

The opening and shutting of the BAU doors brings you out of your thoughts and the familiar head of brown hair stalking away makes your face fall. Gideon meets your gaze, gesturing towards the door. That’s all you need to run out of the bullpen.

“Spencer– Spencer, wait, please.” You tug on his arm desperately. “Please–”

“What do you mean you’re leaving?” He asks, his voice cracking. It has only been a few days since the incident and he looks a little better. The scratches on his face are still visible, but they’re fading slowly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I–” you falter, flinching at the pain and hostility in his voice. “It was never a good time.”

He scoffs quietly, rubbing at his arm. “You should have told me.”

“I couldn’t just randomly tell you,” you say, frowning. “How would that be fair?”

Spencer rubs his eyes, the dark bags beneath them even more prominent. “Why are you leaving?”

“I have to,” you say gently, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I love this job but I can’t do it anymore–”

“Why not?!”

“Because–!” You exhale, trying to calm yourself down. “Because I swore an oath when I took this job that I will put this country above myself. And I can do that. I would die for this country to protect the people in it, I will hunt down the people who make this country so unsafe and I will sacrifice myself willingly, but you? I can’t– I can’t lose you. If I had to choose between catching the UnSub and saving you, I would save you in a heartbeat. Even if that meant letting a bad guy go. Even if that meant more people would get hurt I would still choose you and I can’t let that happen.”

Your words deem him speechless and he shifts his weight on his feet. For a moment, all he can do is stare at you as your reasoning sinks in. It makes sense. He hates that it makes sense.

“So that’s it?” He asks quietly, finally looking you in the eye. “You’re actually leaving?”

“Not for another two weeks,” you tell him truthfully. “Besides, you can still text me. And call me. You know where I live so you can always visit.”

He bites the inside of his cheek anxiously, teetering on his feet before hugging you tightly, burying his nose into your hair. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

“I’m going to miss you too.”

His grip is tight around you and if you paid attention you could feel him tremble. “I can’t do this job without you.”

“Don’t say that,” you whisper. “You can, Walter. You’re stronger than you think you are.”

There are so many things he wishes he could tell you. You’re right here. He doesn’t have to yearn for your touch anymore because you’re right here in his arms. He wants to tell you so many things. Like how he adores the colour of your eyes, or the way you smile, or the way your hair falls. He wants to tell you how much he likes spending time with you and how he feels so good with you but he can’t. The words are at the tip of his tongue so how can he not say anything?

“I–” love you– “I’m really going to miss you.”

“Me too,” you whisper. “Me too.”

← previous part || next part →

full work

reblogs are always appreciated!

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #spencer reid x reader angst #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds angst #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds x reader angst #criminal minds x reader fluff #criminal minds series #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you

2K notes · View notes

cobaltperun · 4 months

Text

Lost - Born for this

Tara Carpenter x female Reader

Summary: To anyone on the outside, and to Tara’s friends, you were Tara’s fierce protector, the MMA fighter who’d take anyone on for Tara. The Guard Dog, as Amber called you. You had no idea you’d have to protect her from people who claimed they loved her. It didn’t matter. As long as you and Tara had one another there was nothing you wouldn’t be able to survive.

Story warnings: Scream violence, family issues, trauma, angst, certain sensitive topics

Word count: 3.9k

Story Masterlist / Next part

-They just don't get it, I think they forget, I'm not done till I'm on top-

A fist collided with your forearm as you took a step back, mitigating the effects of the impact. The muscular woman in front of you had blood dripping from her lower lip, and a swelling around her left eye, but she still wasn’t giving up as she pushed on toward you. You lowered your guard, baiting her into growing more confident, only to pull her into a clinch and land two ferocious uppercuts right to her head. She pulled away from you, drops of blood from her nose falling between you in the process.

It was only a matter of time before you’d win. A good hit would end the battle, continuing your streak of victories.

Sometimes it felt wrong, but you found peace in a battle, you found the cure to your heart in violence, in the physical pain and fight that would make you feel more adrenaline than anything ever could or would. You felt lost, a lone fighter going up against life itself, left without anyone you could turn to if you lost. No, that wasn’t quite right. She just… wasn’t as present in your life anymore. So, the only place that didn’t make you feel lost or trapped was, ironically, a cage. Somehow, that felt fitting. The only right thing in your life at the moment were these MMA fights and this was the biggest one of your life so far. The loud cheering of the crowd? Merely a background noise. The taste of blood in your mouth? Just another reason for the adrenaline pumping through your body. The pain you were currently feeling? Both from the exhaustion and the hits you took? That just made your body release endorphins. The opponent in front of you? Soon to be defeated.

A feint ended. the battle and as she backed away you landed a spinning back kick to her side. The beating of your heart slowed down as you took deep breaths. You took a moment to wipe off the drops of sweat from your forehead, to come back to reality and come back down from the high of the battle. The cheers of your name were no longer background noise, you were no longer the underdog, you just won your second local title, proving the first one wasn’t a fluke. You could finally enter the next stage! Take on the world’s greatest female MMA fighters! The euphoria caused by the success was a fleeting thought, a steppingstone. The desire to keep pushing harder, to get stronger and better already settling in along with the anticipation of the next fight.

A reporter came up to you while you were still in the cage, with the belt hanging from your shoulder, and an easy-going confident grin on your face you had to admit you did look good.

“Another KO! Another undeniable victory! How does it feel?” the reporter, a woman that has been following your career almost from the start, seeing the potential in you, greeted.

“Amazing, I’d love to say the fight could have gone either way, but I can’t be stopped,” for a moment you turned to the crowd around the cage. “Isn’t that right?!” you raised your arms up, putting on a bit of a show. Trash talking and overconfidence was part of the job, it generated hype, and earned you money. Respect for the opponent was for the behind the cameras.

And the crowd cheered and booed, almost in equal numbers, some wanting to see you keep going, some wanting to see you fall, as long as they came to watch it hardly mattered.

“And what’s next for the Woodsboro’s upstart fighter, Y/N L/N?” the reporter asked over the yells of the crows.

“The world, of course! Sooner, rather than later I’ll come for the title!” you promised, not exaggerating one bit, that was your goal, the purpose, the reason to keep fighting. You would become the world champion.

“Your target is Anya Golubeva, is what I’m hearing. It’ll be a tough road, but you’ve never been stopped before,” the reporter encouraged you to keep going.

You smirked, knowing full well the current world champion, Anya Golubeva, was a fight that was still far away, and that she might not even have the title by the time you get to challenge her. “Sure, it’s about time someone takes the title from her!”

You kept chatting for another minute or two before saying goodbye and leaving the arena. Your coach, pleased by your victory, was right by your side, waving to the crowd and enjoying the attention much more than you did now that the theatrics were over.

“You’re going right back to Woodsboro?” he asked you as you walked through the nearly empty, dimly lit halls, your footsteps echoing all around you.

“Yeah, I’d rather be there right now,” you said as the two of you stopped by the doors of the locker room. “I’ll see you next week and we can go over this fight and potential opponents for the next one,” you patted him on the arm, really wanting to just take a quick shower and get in your car as soon as possible. The drive back to Woodsboro would take almost two hours, so the sooner you left the building, the sooner you’d go back home.

“Of course, you were great tonight! Keep doing what you do the best and we’ll be at the top of the world!” he was happy, much more excited than you were, and you couldn’t blame him. At least someone was appropriately happy with the success you were having.

~X~

The moment you got in your car you felt a sense of clarity, you no longer felt the high of the battle, just the sense of calm and peace. The drive back to Woodsboro was fun, driving was always fun, well, aside from the times when you’d get stuck in traffic, but that was beside the point. Driving was fun, but driving also meant not answering the phone that kept ringing as if your friends didn’t know you by now. The Babadook theme suddenly caught your attention, and you figured you could stop to fill up the gas tank, so, roughly a mile down the road you stopped and pulled out your phone and returned the most recent call.

A few seconds later Chad’s voice came from the other side. “How come you don’t answer any of us? Hmm Champ?”

“Tara has a different ringtone,” you shrugged as you began filling the gas tank. Given how late it was, and that you were already relatively close to Woodsboro your car was the only one at the small gas station.

“Not fair, Y/N,” you could hear the pouting in his voice.

That made you smirk, as if you wanted to be fair when it came to Tara. “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you weren’t even sure he heard you as there was a sudden commotion wherever he was. While our friends were deciding on who was getting the phone you wondered why you didn’t put on your jacket, because the chill night air and a bit of wind blowing in your face wasn’t exactly fun at the moment. Oh well, this wouldn’t take long, even if the short-sleeved polo shirt would get a weird look from the cashiers.

A few moments later the commotion settled down. “Hey, how did it go?” hearing her voice felt so damn good, especially since you didn't get to hear it that often lately. Tara’s question made you smile. She didn’t watch your matches, but you knew she heard how the match ended from Chad. She wasn’t asking about the match though.

“Let’s see, my lower lip got busted, but it’s really not that bad, other than that there’s nothing out of the ordinary, I’ll have bruises for a couple of days, and I’ll be sore but it’s the regular outcome,” if it was anyone else asking you’d probably be annoyed, but it was Tara and you missed her. And even if you didn’t miss her, well Tara was Tara, you could never get annoyed because of her.

You could hear a sigh. A sign of disapproval and reluctant acceptance that telling you to stop fighting would only be a waste of her breath. You couldn't stop. You plain and simple couldn't. Not ever for Tara. There was something bigger than simple fighting here, you had an obligation to fulfil. “Could you pick me up? I’m at Chad and Mindy’s house.”

The question caught you by surprise, she hadn’t asked you to pick her up since two months ago. “Yeah, of course,” you glanced down at the watch. “I’ll pick you up in half an hour?”

“Great! Drive safe okay?” the excitement in her voice made you shiver, and not from the wind, in fact, you barely felt the wind at all.

“Always, Tara,” you reassured her.

You hung up, went inside the gas station to pay, and grabbed a kiwi fruit bar as well as a bottle of water. You paid and were back on your way to Woodsboro.

~X~

“A special ringtone? Seriously?” Chad teasingly accused the moment Tara hung up.

Tara just shrugged, leaning back into the pillows behind her to appear even smaller, suddenly she found the snacks in front of her to be the most interesting thing in the room. She was just glad she remembered to put her phone on silent when you called back. It was a bit of an unspoken promise between you two, you had the theme from the Babadook as your ringtone when she called and she had a song from your favorite show (movie) as her ringtone when you called her. You didn’t even discuss it really, you just misplaced your phone one night and she called you and heard the theme, prompting questions from her since you did not like the Babadook enough to make it your ringtone. Even she didn’t have that theme as her ringtone! Sometimes she felt like she wasn’t fair to Amber, but you were you! You have been her best friend since she was almost ten, since that day in the rain.

You’ve been her, everything really, her best friend, her protector even when Sam was still in Woodsboro, her first love, but not her first kiss. When Tara thought of being loved, she thought of you, of being held in your arms. But you didn’t love her back. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. You didn’t love her back enough. You chose your career. You chose to be an MMA fighter and Tara couldn’t handle that. The idea of watching you get hurt, or waiting for you to come home with fresh bruises stopped her from telling you how she felt. It was one of the reasons she accepted and, to the best of her abilities, reciprocated Amber’s feeling.

“Forget the ringtone! She’s picking you up,” Mindy had the guts to give her a knowing look as if she actually knew anything. She had the guts to be giddy with excitement over something that no longer mattered.

“Good thing Amber couldn’t make it,” Liv’s taunt soured Tara’s mood instantly. “Shit, sorry,” and she noticed it immediately.

Tara smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It’s okay,” even if Tara loved you there was nothing but friendship between the two of you and if Amber was going to be unreasonably jealous that was her issue. Not Tara’s. She already compromised enough, she could spend a bit of time with you. She promised herself it would only be the ride to her place and maybe chatting for a bit, not for too long, since you needed your rest, but just for a bit. The thought made the smile reach her eyes. The smile vanished when a message from Amber caught her attention.

~X~

Chad and Mindy’s house wasn’t far from Tara’s. It was definitely within walking distance, but given how late it was, and that it was getting colder, getting a ride wasn’t unreasonable. Not that it mattered, you didn’t need a reason to spend time with Tara. You stepped out of your car, a comfortable car, not exactly built for speed, or off-road driving, it was perfect for you though.

“Champ!” Chad was the first to tackle you into a hug as you approached his and Mindy’s house.

“Hey buddy, take it easy, I got hit there,” you half-joked as you patted him on the back.

“Where?” the teasing grin on his face told you everything.

“Everywhere, you jerk, I was in a fight,” you laughed, stepping away from him. A brief hug from Mindy and a high-five from Liv wrapped up the greetings and congratulations.

“We saw, even Tara saw,” Liv pointed out as the four of you entered the house.

“Nice,” that’s when the meaning of her words finally hit you and you stopped. “Wait, what?”

“Technically she was peeking through her fingers, but she saw the fight,” Mindy explained with that knowing smirk on her face. You glanced through the doors, watching as Tara was getting ready. She had her back turned to you, and you knew you were staring, but you couldn’t take your eyes off her. She actually watched your fight. “Come on you two, let’s take our place as the lovable side characters,” Mindy’s teasing was never going to end, not even now that Tara was with Amber. You jokingly flipped her off, still watching Tara as she placed her inhaler and phone in her bag. You frowned at that. Did she need her inhaler? During your fight or after it? When you turned to look at Mindy and Chad they seemed to lose interest in you and Liv wasn’t much better as she pretended to admire a picture hanging on the wall. Sighing you went into the living room just as Tara turned around.

Her face lit up and she jumped into your arms, letting you lift her up. “You okay?” you asked as she looked down at you. Her left hand rested on your shoulder as her right hand slipped behind your neck. The warmth of Chad and Mindy’s house was nothing to the warmth of her body in your arms.

“I am, don’t worry about it,” the softness of her voice, the adoration in her eyes, the gentle way she checked the cut on your lower lip, you took it all in, because it’s been too long since you and Tara were this close. For reasons you were almost sure had everything to do with Amber, you and Tara grew distant a month into their relationship. Spare inhaler Tara kept at your place? Amber had it now. Movie nights? Once a month if you got lucky, as opposed to at least twice a week before her relationship with Amber. Tara almost randomly appearing to hang out either at the gym or at your work? That seldom happened over the past three months. So, you figured you could be forgiven for wanting to hold your best friend just a bit tighter and longer than you did before she told you she and Amber got together. You could be forgiven because despite what you felt this was how you were as friends long before you figured out you had feelings for Tara. You could be forgiven because you would never do anything that would affect Tara’s happiness.

“Okay, I’m here if you need to talk,” you assured her softly.

Tara’s smile grew wider. “I know, Y/N,” you could see the reluctance in her eyes as she dropped her left hand from your shoulder and lightly squeezed your biceps, a silent sign that told you to let her down. You did and now the height difference of roughly eight and a half inches emphasized how adorably tiny Tara was compared to you. “By the way, a tiny change of the plans, could you take me to Amber’s house?”

“Sure,” you missed your chance, well, that would imply you had one. Well, you would have had a chance if you didn’t choose to fight. So, you decided there wasn’t a chance to begin with. The drive to Amber’s house was filled with deafening silence broken only by the occasional buzzing of Tara’s phone, filled with unspoken words, and filled with a sense of tension you hated.

As you waited for the traffic light to turn green you realized you haven’t given Tara the fruit bar you bought, so you reached for the fruit bar resting next to the water bottle in your cup holder and silently handed it to her.

“Oh,” you guessed she was surprised, but seeing as the lights turned green you couldn’t look at her. You could only feel the brush of her fingers as she accepted the snack. “Thank you,” she said, causing you to smile.

“Always, T,” your smile widened when you heard a muffled moan of appreciation at the taste of the fruit bar. She always loved kiwi, so you made it a bit of a habit to get her something with kiwi every now and then.

A few minutes later you parked in front of Amber’s house and Tara stepped out to greet Amber, the girl was already waiting by the road. For some reason, you had an awful feeling you should say something to Tara. It was a familiar feeling, one you normally got when you realized you were about to get hit but couldn’t do anything but brace for it.

Tara leaned through the window of your passenger seat and reached out for your hand. "Thanks, Y/N," there was that smile again.

"Don't mention it," you gently squeezed her hand as the silence turned from uncomfortable to pleasant and you just looked her in the eyes. Just for a moment, you didn't feel lost, you felt exactly how you felt before she got together with Amber.

A cough made Tara pull back and take a few steps back, choosing to stand next to Amber. “Good night,” Tara waved at you.

“Sweet dreams,” you forced out and drove away, the feeling of being lost came back, right along with that awful feeling that filled you with anxiety.

That night, the only reason you managed to fall asleep was the exhaustion in your body, and as the date changed from 22nd to 23rd you were plagued by nightmares you neither remembered nor could explain.

~X~

The moment Tara followed Amber inside she regretted not going home. Or to your place. She regretted it as she sat down in Amber’s living room, with her arms crossed and Amber clearly fuming. It was a familiar scene, a slasher horror movie playing on the TV to fill the silence, the dinner plate with a few crumbs on it, a half-drunk cup of milk, the usual scene for Amber’s living room when there wasn’t a party of some kind going on. “Amber, Y/N is my best friend!” Tara argued, hoping to prevent the argument before it even started.

Amber laughed, almost maniacally at that. “Yeah, a friend! You never look at me like that!”

“Yes, a friend, you know there’s nothing between us,” and she didn’t look at you ��like that’. She knew exactly what look Amber was talking about, the longing look, filled with all her love and desire for you. She didn’t look at you like that since her and Amber got together. She drew a definitive line there; she would never make Amber feel insecure about their relationship. Tara made her choice, you made sure it wasn’t you, that was the end of it. You were her best friend, but Amber was a close second and Amber loved her the way you wouldn’t…

Amber slammed her palm on the table. “But you want to!” she screamed, her eyes wild and filled with jealousy.

Tara didn’t back away, she didn’t flinch, she just tried her best to keep her breathing under control without using her pump. Amber was angry, but Amber would never hurt her. Even if she tried Tara was confident she could get away. “I wanted to, and you’ve always known that! But that’s the point, I wanted to! I don’t want to anymore! I’m with you now!” she yelled back, tired of this argument happening again and again.

Amber took a deep breath, finally calming down, and that was all Tara wanted, she just wanted her girlfriend to remain calm. “I’m sorry, Baby, I just… You know how I get when I see Y/N,” Tara knew, she knew and that was why she accepted to create some distance between the two of you.

It got out of control by now, it wasn’t supposed to be this drastic, but Tara craved the love Amber was giving her, and she had learnt a long time ago that if people loved her they expected something from her. Her dad wanted a healthy daughter, she wasn’t that, she was sickly and weak and needed to be cared for. So, he left. Sam was the same, Tara couldn’t be the little sister Sam wanted. Sam couldn’t be a normal teenager with Tara around, so Sam distanced herself and then abandoned Tara almost the first chance she got. Her mother was the same, because Tara was the one who tore their family apart. Because Tara clung too hard. Because Tara wasn’t good enough.

Amber was the same, Amber needed a girlfriend that wouldn’t choose you instead of her, Amber needed Tara to choose her instead of you, so Tara did that. That was the cost of Amber’s love. And Tara would pay it. And Amber knew it.

“I know, Amber, I just miss my best friend sometimes,” Tara sighed, a tiny voice in her head telling her you’d never make her choose, that you never once wanted anything more than what Tara had to offer to you. If there was anyone who loved Tara for who she was, without expectations, conditions, costs, or abandonment, it was you.

But you’d never love her the way Tara loved you. Why else would you let her get together with Amber? Why else would you accept the distance? You wouldn’t have done that if you loved Tara back.

“Y/N will abandon you Tara, sooner or later. She’s no longer your guard dog. The moment an opportunity for her career comes around, she’ll abandon you. I won’t, I’d never abandon you,” and as Amber sat down on Tara’s lap, Tara found it difficult to argue, especially since you kept winning, and with every win you’d be closer and closer to your goal. You’d leave Woodsboro eventually, searching for a better life, and Tara would be left here, unable to follow.

That same voice in the back of her head, the one that constantly told her to go to you, told her Amber was wrong. Distance made it difficult to argue. Distance made it easier for Amber to convince her this was the truth. In hindsight It almost would have been enough, but then you took hold of her and all of Amber’s efforts were immediately wasted. You nearly took hold of her one day too late, though, but even then, even as she was bleeding out on her kitchen floor, her leg broken, desperately crying out in pain and fear of the one who attacked her so brutally, she still only thought of two people as she barely clung to life. One was Sam, the other? You.

A/N: So, Y/N is an MMA fighter, honestly, I just want the reader to be reasonably capable of kicking Ghostface’s ass, so yeah, the reader is a badass.

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter x you #scream #jenna ortega x reader

346 notes · View notes

notyourhetloki · 9 months

Text

boy doll (Ken x male Reader)

Reader: he/him

/Ken x Doll!Reader/

A/N: No one asked for this but I was inspired so here you go! I'm cringe but I'm free!! Requests are open btw

Warnings: NOT spoiler free, slightly possessive Ken

Song Rec/Mentioned: Hozier - Like Real People Do

—

Just like Allan or Midge, you were one of a kind. A new doll to grace the streets of Barbieland... how exciting!

You were quickly one of the boys, getting along immediately especially with Allan and... one blondie named Ken.

Your favorite place in town was the beach, so you naturally became friends first with beach Ken (you know... the one whose job was to beach).

At the beginning he was shy, but soon warmed up to you as you seemed to get him. He even asked for advice on some personal problems.

For example, there was something about him bringing patriarchy to Barbieland and brainwashing all Barbies a few months ago... yeah, he still needed to address that. But after some help with his guilt and long apologies to each and every Barbie, he started feeling more like himself.

You liked his personality, he was funny and charming and always excited about his favorite activities. It was truly enjoyable watching him do his thing, and you weren't afraid to let him know that.

"Good job, Ken!" or "Keep going!" made part of your daily vocabulary.

And oh, he noticed that. I mean, his other Ken friends also hyped him up but... you actually felt so genuine, so... different somehow.

For whatever reason, Ken began feeling jealous of you. He hated seeing you compliment any other Kens or Barbies... He just felt possessive and he didn't know why. You were just his friend, after all...

But one day he snapped once he saw you sharing a laugh with Simu!Ken, joking around innocently. He grabbed you by the wrist and took you to his Mojo Dojo Casa House, where he could have you all by himself.

You thought to yourself that maybe he was acting jealous, but you didn't want to create any expectations... You could be one of a kind but you were still a boy doll, not a Barbie...

In reality, you really liked him... and were not sure where to put so many feelings all of a sudden. You wanted to be his boyfriend, but that just felt weird, right? To want to hold his hand and walk around with matching clothes, to call him 'love' and 'baby' and even... kiss him...

NO. You couldn't think that! That was ridiculous, and it would never happen anyway... he didn't want you.

Or so you thought.

At his house, you were sitting side by side listening to music when Ken decided to look at you. Focused on the lyrics, you didn't notice him staring, looking at your perfect hair and beautiful eyes, and... inviting lips.

He felt crazy, completely out of his mind! What was going on with his feelings? A few months ago he was simping for Barbie and now... now he wanted you. He felt seen by you and that made his chest ache (weird).

The reality was, Ken liked Barbie because that was what he was made for... but now that he was free, he liked you because... because he chose you.

In an involuntary motion, he moved his hand to brush yours. The touch was swift but electric, and you both felt it.

You quickly shot a look at him, confusion and hope mixing inside you... but as soon as he touched your hand, he was up and gone.

"Ah, sorry... I-I have to... I have to go." He stumbled out of the room and ran outside, not looking back.

You were left sad and confused, did you do something wrong? Was it just a mistake? You didn't know...

After what seemed like a couple of hours, you decided to go to the beach to ease your mind a bit. The sun was setting and there shouldn't be a lot of people to disturb you.

But Ken was there, playing his guitar. You walked slowly so you didn't startle him, and gently sat by his side. He immediately stopped playing, looking at you with big blue eyes. "Hey..."

"Hey... May I?" you responded, pointing at his guitar. He nodded, handing it over to you.

You started playing a Hozier song, you figured he wouldn't know it, and you hoped he picked up on the message.

"I will not ask you where you came from I will not ask you, neither should you Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips We should just kiss like real people do."

You looked at his eyes while singing, and immediately felt a shift in the air. His teary eyes shone while he admired your face, your voice... you were singing to him, right? He couldn't possibly be this delusional.

After you were done, you quickly got up to leave but were interrupted by a hold on your hand, pulling you down.

"(Y/N)! Don't go just yet..." You sat down again, face burning with sudden embarrassment. You couldn't believe you had played guitar to him, but you did!

Ken looked at you in awe, not knowing what to say. His head was full of a thousand things he wanted to confess but, nothing could evoke what he felt just right.

He looked down and up at your eyes again a few times before deciding... suddenly he grabbed both sides of your face and kissed you tenderly.

You were shocked at first, but not a few moments later started kissing him back, lips gently meeting each other in tandem.

When you finally parted, Ken breathed a sigh of relief, smiling while taking your hands in his. "No one has ever played the guitar for me before..."

"Well, I'm here for whatever you need me." You grinned back, squeezing his hands gently. "I've always been here..."

"I know, baby boy. I know..." You laughed a little at the way he called you, drawing a big smile from him. "You like that? Baby boy?"

"I'm fine with that, sure..." You continued to grin, holding his hands while admiring his face. He looked so beautiful when he was happy...

"Woo woo! Go get it, boys!" A sudden voice cheered from the sea, Mermaid!Barbie rising her arms in excitement as she looked at you both before disappearing again into the sea.

You and Ken laughed hysterically at the scene... and for the rest of the night, he never released your hand from his.

—

#ken #ken x reader #ken x male reader #ken x you #barbie #ryan gosling #imagine #y/n #self insert #fanfic #fanfiction #headcanon #notyourhetloki

530 notes · View notes

bisexual-horror-fan · 1 year

Text

"Better Story, Improved Effects." Mickey Altieri X Reader.

Soooo I was re-watching Scream 2 last week while sick in bed and something finally clicked in my brain and I realized oh fuck, I love Mickey. So shit, here we are, his first smut! I dunno where this all came from but maybe it was just lying dormant under the surface and now it’s all out here to play and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it! Big shout out to @eggsandbeer for the title, beta reading and to her and ALSO @ace-of-clubs-and-diamonds for the help on his character and all the hyping up since this was my first time writing him.

---

Part two now here.

—

Rating. Explicit. Length. 7.3K. Mickey Altieri X FEM! AFAB! Reader. Warnings: Drinking. Cheating. You Are Randy’s Girlfriend. Shit Talking. Rude Behaviour. Manipulation. Making Out. Grinding. Dirty Talk. Vaginal Fingering. Oral Sex. Blow Job. Eating Pussy. Teasing. Banter. Orgasm Denial. Extreme Frustration. Bad Mouthing Randy. Filming. Sex Caught On Tape. Dub-Con. Voyeurism. Exhibitionism. Spanking. Masturbation. Cuckolding. Vaginal Sex. Squirting. Cream Pie.

—

The last way you wanted to spend your Friday night was attending a party solo and thoroughly annoyed with your boyfriend, and yet here you were.

You had been looking forward to unwinding from a hectic week with Randy, some drinks, getting a little messy, perhaps a bit publicly indecent. Then that turning from a kind of foreplay of its own to hastily finding a dark corner secluded enough to hook up with a minimal, (but still a very exciting and arousing), risk of getting caught.

But no, sadly, instead of getting to do any of that you were walking up to the party already well underway totally alone and all because Randy had other plans he didn’t bother making you aware of until about an hour ago. He bought a ticket to go see some movie he had already seen a hundred times, a fact you pointed out quickly that had him replying with equal speed, saying, “But I’ve never seen it on the big screen!”

As if that makes it all okay and would quell your negative emotions and upsetness about him leaving you behind and kicking off his weekend without you. He made some over the top, big and grand promises about making it up to you tomorrow and you rolled your eyes with an unconfident, “Uh-huh”.

It left your lips before he proceeded to try and smooth his departure with a few kisses that you barely returned and on top of that didn’t do much of anything to smooth down your ruffled feathers. He left in short order and you finished getting ready for your night out in a huff. Did you pour some extra effort into looking good so he would feel extra bad and stupid for ditching you for some lame movie? Yes. Was that just a touch petty? Also yes but who could blame you?

Soon as you pushed your way through the bothersome cluster of assholes that were all hanging out and talking in the doorway, for some fucking reason, seriously, who does that? Your first order of business was getting a drink.

The first one went down too quickly and quietly, you didn’t leave the drink station in the kitchen and certainly didn’t talk to anyone yet. One of your hands on the countertop as you gulped down the sticky sweet mixture. You made a second drink after the first and then decided to venture out and seek something out to make you forget about Randy, at least for a little while, the living room that was filled with music and people seemed like as good a place as any to start.

He was hoping he might see you here tonight but seeing you here alone was an unexpected treat. He’d caught sight of you the second you walked in although you did not spot him right off the hop.

He’d been keeping his eyes on you for a while and if Meeks was here there was no way he would have gone this long without latching himself onto you, he is many things, loud, opinionated, and fucking clingy. He doesn’t think there is a single time he had seen you two together where Randy hadn’t been hanging off of you, like he needed to touch you in some way at all times or he would be in physical pain otherwise. To be fair he isn’t sure he would be much better if you were his. None of your other friends were about and your expression told him you were upset, about what he didn’t know, and would he be a good friend if he didn’t walk over and check in on you?

You on an average day was already a treat for the eyes but on a night out like this, when you poured in that extra effort was truly something to behold. He made his way over to you, sliding up beside you, a hand tapping you on the shoulder as he asked, “What’s with the frown?”

Your head snapped up, looking to see Mickey right beside you, hand hovering over your shoulder and smile on his lips but eyes concerned. “Is my bad mood so obvious you clocked it from across the room?” You follow the question up by taking a healthy sip from your drink.

A raise of his eyebrows as he brought up his own cup, he’d crouched slightly when greeting you but standing back up to full height and with a half shrug as he said, “Well it is kinda hard to miss when blue is very much not your colour.”

You stifle a laugh into your cup before saying, “Cute, very cute.”

A grin breaks out on his face, he already got you laughing less than a minute into him walking up, this was a great sign. “Soooo what’s up?”

“Ahhhh-” A dismissive wave of your hand as you raise your cup for another sip, and he laughs, a shake of his head as he points to you, “No, no ‘ahhhh’, something is up so spill!”

“I don’t wanna bring down your night.” You say honestly.

He scoffs, “Doubt that you could do that, and what are friends for if not to listen to whatever is eating you?”

He made a good point. Maybe if you vented and got it all off your chest you would feel better? So you give in much easier than you probably should have. A heavy sigh and you take his hand with the one that wasn’t currently holding your drink, urging him as you say, “Okay, c’mon.”

Mickey brightens at the contact that you initiated as he lets you drag him off through the glass sliding doors leading to the backyard.

Sitting on the back patio you proceed to spill your guts, the thump of the music lessened now that you were outside, much easier to hear each other and talk properly. When you finished filling him in he was less than impressed to learn of the reason for your bad mood, what kind of idiot was Randy to ditch you like this? He was of course, nothing but sympathetic to your plight and your pain but also that not so small and sick part inside of him saw this as a golden opportunity, a perfect way to hopefully do what he had been dying to for months. He just had to play it right.

He started easy, saying, “Wow, no wonder you are so upset.”

You exhaled with a nod as you leaned back in your chair and that led to him following up with, “I mean I knew Meeks was a fucking idiot but this might be one of the dumber things he has ever done.”

A small shocked laugh spilled out and it emboldens him, he wants to lean closer to you but doesn’t want to push, not yet so instead he is continuing further before you could hope to respond, “Like does carrot top have any brains at all to rather pass up a party with you for a fuckin’ movie? I bet if I cracked his skull open all I’d find is some loose un-popped corn kernels and a pool of that artificial butter schlock they serve at the theatre he is at right now.”

“Damn Mickey, tell me how you really feel.” You responded before you giggled and he said with a sure nod, “I will! Randy fuckin’ Meeks is totally fucking brain dead for doing this and you should be pissed up at him.”

“Yeah?” You ask, fingers circling the rim of your cup and he said loudly, arms outstretched, “Yes! I mean Christ! What, you don’t think he deserves just a little bit of your ire for pulling this stunt?”

He makes a compelling argument.

He had you smiling, had you laughing and more importantly, he validated your feelings. The more you both talked, the more he decried Randy’s actions and backed you up as your second drink was finished, you felt it. The annoyance, the anger, the unfairness, you ended up telling him a few more things, disagreements and issues minor in nature that Randy had done to upset you, things you think you would be over but when a bit tipsy and upset, venting, it all comes bubbling up to the surface.

It really couldn’t have gone better, you giving him those few more insights gave him more chances to plant further unrest between you and him.

You felt insanely heard and listened to, and maybe it was your overall mood, maybe it was a bit of the drink, but everything he was saying made sense, perhaps Randy wasn’t that great a boyfriend, this movie thing might be indicative of a bigger problem in your whole relationship. Your head felt confused but that was lessening, the longer you chat, the more he insists Randy’s behavior is fucked up, you find it harder and harder to deny that it held weight and made sense.

All and all the conversation was around a half hour before he was encouraging you to get up, saying, “Enough about that asshole, it’s Friday night and look around, it’s a party! He’s out having fun and you should be too.”

He was right again and you told him as such, feeling less burdened, lighter and overall excited to have fun and put those awful feelings aside for the time being. “Yeah! No more moping, fuck him, it’s his loss.”

“Hell yeah it is.” You get up and the pair of you end up marching back into the party. Another drink, talking about not as heavy topics, snacks, sitting in on a card game or two, watching part of a movie that was playing on the tv, and a few hours later you were sitting almost shoulder to shoulder watching a very spirited game of beer pong.

You’d switched to water for a reprieve and during a small lull you said to him, “Hey Mickey?”

A questioning hum that had him turning his head to look at you, “Yeah?”

“Just wanted to say thanks for this. I was feeling really fucked up earlier and if you hadn’t stepped in I woulda had a totally shit time tonight but you completely salvaged it. So uhm, thanks.”

He smiles, a shrug before he says, “Least I can do, I sure as shit wasn’t about to let you sit around all dramatic and morose.”

You laugh before trying to defend yourself, “Dramatic and morose, huh? I don’t know if it was that bad.”

His silence speaks volumes.

You speak his name in a questioning and warning tone and he holds up his hand, a wishy washy and wavering hand motion as he said, “Ehhh-”

A scoff of mock offence bracketed with a laugh and you playfully punch him in the shoulder, “You dick! I thought you were saving me from my shitty boyfriend for the night! I didn’t know I was just trading one asshole for another.”

He plays up the impact, rubbing his shoulder as if it actually hurt and he says, “I’m just being honest, I thought you liked me when I was honest.”

“Honest or mean?” You fire back with a grin and he says, “There’s a difference?”

“For the average person, yes.”

All the back and forth was very fond and fun. You were feeling much better than you had been earlier by now and you suggested, “Wanna get out of here? Go for a walk?”

“Sounds good to me.”

You had no destination in mind. Just fresh night air and more conversation. As you meander about the topic, unsurprisingly considering you were talking with Mickey, the talking turns to movies.

“What do you mean you haven’t seen Stab?” He asked dramatically aghast, way too loud and head up towards the sky as if God themself would have the answer he seeked and you laughed, “I just haven’t!”

“Well we can fix that, no, we should fix that.” He insisted, a wave of his hand encouraging you to follow as he changed course, you turn to follow, a small jog to catch up to him, “What is it that good?”

“God no! It’s garbage.” He said with a look over his shoulder towards you as if you were nuts for even suggesting it was good. You laughed, “Right, so it’s garbage and so I have to see it?”

“Naturally.” He said with a confident nod, hands sliding into his pockets as you fell in step beside him and you say, “Isn’t it not out of theatres yet? I doubt a show is gonna be happening past midnight.”

“No worries about that, I got a bootleg.” He assured and you asked incredulously, “A bootleg of this garbage movie that you don’t like?”

“Do you not own bootlegs of movies you hate?” He asks and you say, “No because I’m not a fucking psycho unlike my present company apparently.”

He laughs the comment off and soon you are at his place, you had never actually been here before. It was late but you weren’t in a rush to go back to your own abode alone, leading you to step into the door he was holding wide open. Wasn’t a bad place at all and you had it to yourselves, it was slightly cluttered but clean and no off putting smells or gross dishes or garbage so hey, a big win and a leg up on many other college living spaces you’d seen in your time here.

Your eyes wander over the space, posters littering the walls, books scattered around and other items as he puts the tape in before coming to flop down beside you with a smile, “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

The couch wasn't half bad, there was more than enough room on it for you and him and yet you didn’t stay far apart for long. As you watched and talked, Mickey pointing out flaws and inaccuracies, jokes and riffing you and he scooted nearer, until this moment right there, where you were just about shoulder to shoulder. One of his hands was on his own knee, the other one gesturing to the tv screen as he said, “I mean have you ever seen organs look faker? The colour is totally off, the blood spray should have been bigger and this is supposed to be outside! Where’s the steam?! The inside of a freshly ripped into body should be hot.”

It wasn’t like horror was your favourite genre and you are sure it isn’t his but you could appreciate the passion he held for the craft, for authenticity of film making, you keep the mood light tease, “Oh yeah because you know just what a murder scene looks like, right?”

He laughs, hardly managing to stifle it before he says, “You don’t know everything I’ve done, I could have all sorts of life experiences you are unaware of but besides that it doesn’t take a killer to know that based off the body's internal temperature if sliced into like that-” Another point to the screen, the mangled torso with the mess of red and innards on display, “-it would steam up in the fall evening air.”

You hum with a nod and then a line read on screen was so bad he started up again with another joke that had you laughing in a way that made it hard to breathe. He was piling on, you leaning into him fully now and then that is when his hand makes contact, again only after you touch him first.

A simple move from his own knee to yours, both cracking up and as you come down his hand doesn’t move, instead a simple squeeze as his gaze shifts from screen to you and back again. He is wearing that sideways grin that before tonight sure made your own stare linger a bit longer than it should for a person with a boyfriend, but now? It was having a different effect.

You’d thought about it, mostly before you got with Randy, but Mickey was a really attractive guy, you got along absurdly well and tonight he treated you amazingly, was here for you in a big way when you needed him. You weren’t even tipsy any longer, you can’t blame the feelings he was giving you on the alcohol. You were only human and him encouraging you to feel your emotions, validating them, the close proximity and clear chemistry you both had wasn’t helping this either. You were positive he was into you.

Were you seriously considering this?

He interrupted your thoughts, “You having a good time?”

The question startled you. Not just because he spoke but what he said, Mickey was a pretty self assured guy, the question might sound insecure in nature but it wasn’t spoken in a tone that lended to that. You play along and respond, “Yeah, yeah I am. Why do you ask?”

“Oh just know that what we got up to tonight probably wasn’t what you were initially planning to.” He responded with ease, not insecure, just concerned and you sighed, he was a really good guy wasn’t he?

“Yeah it wasn’t but that isn’t your fault it’s Randy’s for ditching, besides what we did almost all of what he and I would have anyway plus some extra stuff.”

You gesture to the screen and the movie you certainly wouldn’t have seen were it not for him. He asks next, “Well glad I could help give you a good Friday night but that almost all has me curious, what exactly did you miss out on?”

You were painfully aware of the fact that his hand was still on your knee, your eyes drew down slightly at the maintained contact, your shoulders still pressed together, your thighs touching, you leaning into him has created multiple points of contact that you were only just paying attention to now. His body was warm, he smelt good and the question he asked made your mind run back to your intentions at the start of the night, of that semi public risky fuck you wanted to have with Randy.

A subdued shrug, so small that if his eyes weren’t locked onto you and your shoulder on his he might have missed it, “Nothing two college kids in a relationship wouldn’t normally get up to post-party.”

“Ahhh.”

The silence that followed was heavy and tension filled and he said, his eyes moving over you in a way that could be read as more than just ‘friendly’, “Shame I can’t help you out with that.”

Fuck it.

“Couldn’t you?” The question was spoken with your gaze raised, gaging his reaction, the slight raise of his eyebrows and confusion on his features meets the small uptick of the sides of his mouth, “What about Randy?”

“What about him?” You bite back with a casual shrug.

This was too perfect for him but he still had to play this right. An amused exhale before he reminds you, “He’s your boyfriend?”

“And yet I am here with you, alone in your place and on your couch with him nowhere in sight.” And any remaining gap was closed by you, leaning that last bit, one hand meeting his cheek and you tugging him closer to kiss him. As soon as you made that final move, as soon as your lips met his all bets were off, this was happening, patience and hard work pays off and he can take.

The response you draw from him is immediate, a soft groan, his hands moving, finding your waist, shifting his body and adjusting his posture to better return your sudden affection. You move with him, allowing him to do what he wants, take more of the lead, something he seemed to do with a startling amount of ease, as if he expected you to not only bend but to be into it.

You were very much into it.

It wasn’t like what you had with Randy was bad but he was relatively inexperienced when you got together and still wasn’t the most confident without some major prompting and praise. He was a good kisser but more than that you had a great rhythm off the hop, found a solid groove with a natural give and take that seemed to feed into one another beautifully. His hands feel good on your waist, they are grounding and it drives you to want to touch him further. The thumb on your hand still cupping his face swipes over his cheekbone and you tilt his face to be closer still, a move he permits along with your other hand starting on his side before wandering up the expanse of his chest through his shirt.

His hands slip lower, you feel a rough press of him over your hips and then his hands on your outer thighs and he tugs, a further adjustment so you are underneath him, he is leaning further forward, his body starting to cover yours as the make out hastily progressed. The need overwhelms you first, he breaks the kiss and his lips drags down your jaw and further still, kissing over your neck and you arch, squirming your hips, grinding against him and he smiles against your throat from how well this is going so quickly.

Your fingers hook in the neck of his shirt, tangling, twisting, you pull, desperate for more contact as you grind again, he nips lightly at your pulse and you moan again, softer and so sweet, addicting for him to hear. Another few passes of tongue and of teeth that have your thighs hugging his hips and the next grind that happens is mutual, as is the breath that is caught in your respective throats. “Fuck, you’re better at this than I imagined.”

The smile on his face shifts to a grin that is outright cocky, one of his hands on your hip he pulls, makes you grind on him in a way that has your head falling back with a sigh and he asks, “Have you imagined me like this a lot?”

Your hands don’t stop wandering his body, feeling him and when you don’t respond right away, more concerned with the next move of your hips and the subtle rush of pleasure, he continues, “Thought about me being the one doing this when you’re with your shitty little boyfriend?”

A shake of your head, but you don’t stop, you start to tug, a silent plea for him to take off his shirt and one he gives into as you say, “He’s not that bad.”

He is sitting up on his knees, the lack of contact makes you want to complain but the fabric is peeled away and thrown to the side and any possible complaining is forgotten about. A scoff, “Sure, yeah, he’s a real great guy, hence why you were just grinding yourself all over me with your tongue down my throat.”

A laugh that is too light all things considered, “Shut up.”

He listens. Your hands on his shoulders yanking him until he is against you once more, your mouth crashing into his. Your body was warm and soft, you were talking about this being better than you imagined but he was stuck with the same realisation, you were a good kisser, had amazing give and take and of course the mental aspect, you were in a relationship but ready and willing, touching him, kissing him, it had him aching in his jeans. He started to tug on the bottom of your top and you broke the kiss in a hurry to free yourself of the constraining material. The sight of you in your bottoms and the pretty lace framing you up top turns him on so much more.

It progresses quickly after that. You spread below him on your back, your tongue parting his lips allowing his into your mouth, an action he completes with a small groan his wandering hands choosing to settle, particularly one finding its home between your thighs and you arched into his touch with a hushed, “Fuck yes.”

He lets out a pleased hum, your hands work with his, removing the remaining clothing to give him better access and when there is the last layer between you and his touch he asks in a tone that is as humorous as it is sickeningly sweet, “Am I allowed to speak?”

A hurried nod as you squirm, his fingers brush over you more firmly and he says, “You’re fucking drenched. I don’t think I’ve ever felt someone get this wet from just a little making out, how hard up for it are you?”

“Very.” Your breath hitches and he knows he’s found the right spot to focus on, fingers swirling over your straining clit through your damp panties. “Is he not doing what he should be?”

Your brain feels foggy, you are far more concerned with the sensation starting to wash over you, limbs feeling heavier, eyes half lidded and rocking your hips with the movement of his hand, “Who?”

He laughs, “Who? You already forgot all about him? That tells me everything I need to know that poor ol Meeks isn’t satisfying you.” Before any protest or defending of your boyfriend could leave your mouth he is tugging the crotch of your panties aside and feeling the bare heat of his fingers against you makes you gasp, head falling back against the arm of the couch.

You try to push out what you wanted to say, try to tell him, “I-I didn’t forget M’ just, ugh, distracted, you-you’re distracting.”

“Awe yeah, I’m a really big distraction, do I make it hard to think?” He asks as his fingers pick up the pace, pressing more firmly you moan and nod, “Yes! You do.”

“I could make it worse.” He teases and he moves quickly. Still shirtless, in just his jeans he is on his knees and tugging you further down the length of the couch, underwear half on, your legs over his shoulders his head dips down and his strong but soft tongue licking that first stripe over your clit has you crying out with an arch of your back.

He did make it worse. You couldn’t think properly as soon as the make out started, your mind was far too busy with him and the taste, feeling, the pleasure, it stole all logic and sense. With his lips wrapped around such a sensitive part of you, cradling your clit and sucking indulgently, pretty mouth latched on and tongue lathing over you between his lips, fingers digging into your hips and ass as he held you where he needed, you felt like you were threatening to fall apart in less than five fucking minutes.

Panting out his name, heels digging into his well toned back, fingers scrambling against the corduroy like material of the couch cushions as the feeling built, if he kept this up you’d be cumming against his talented tongue in about two more minutes. Thighs squeezing his head as well as your erratic breathing clues him into how close your end is and he pulls back, the wet strand of spit, the leash connecting his mouth and your clit breaks as he moves back, his fingers take over, messy circles drawn and you whine as the edge backs off from the change in pressure and technique, “How are you doing up there?”

His own voice sounded rough with arousal, the knowledge that he is into this, getting off on eating you out makes another wash of arousal soak into your brain, heart still pounding as you tell him, “Good, so good, please Mickey, keep going.”

“Keep going?” He asks, his head resting on your inner thigh as his fingers continue to dance over your pulsing clit, your tongue darts out, wetting your bottom lip, a nod as your eyebrows draw together, “Yeah, please? I was getting close, an-and your mouth is, fuck, amazing.”

He preens under the praise, “Oh is it?” He is playing dumb as his thumb comes down and he pulls your clitoral hood up, nerve dense tissue exposed and vulnerable, he blows gently and you shiver, body tensing, Christ, how were you so sensitive that even air passing through his lips felt this good?

“Ye-yeah, I wanna cum, please, please-” And he decided to tease you further still, he leaned in, tongue out and your eyes are wide, teeth tugging on your bottom lip, desperate to feel him again, for him to keep going, to push you over the edge. Less than an inch from contact he pulls back with a sigh, “I dunno-”

Your head tips back with a loud groan as you roll your eyes, “Fuuuuck, Mickey, c’mon, I’m dying over here!”

“Yeah? Does it hurt, yet?” He asks and you do notice a distinct ache along your swollen walls, a throbbing pain of denial in your clit steadily building and how awfully empty you feel at this moment.

“Starting to, yes.” You bite out and he says, “Maybe I should be nice and help you out.”

“Yes, please, please be nice to me.” You beg and with your head still back, staring up at the ceiling you are unprepared when he licks over you again, the yelp that leaves you makes him snicker before he says, “Sure, I’ll be nice, I’ll get you off.”

You ramble, babble out your thanks and his mouth is back where it should be, lips locked over your clit, licking, sucking, one of his hands sliding between your thighs and two fingers delve inside to aid further, you clench around them with a stuttered moan of his name. It takes about three minutes for you to be on the edge between him working your clit and his fingers fucking in and out of you, curling just so in and out again and again. “God, Mickey, don’t stop, don’t stop, M’ almost there-”

And then he does just that.

He stops, his fingers stay lodged inside of you, fingers pressed to that sweet spot he’d found with ease but no longer moving and you want to cry, you ask in completely frustration, “Mickey what the fuck?”

“I know, I know, I told you I’d help you out and M’ gonna, soon as you give me something.” You are looking down the length of your body to him between your spread thighs and are just about ready to agree to anything so long as he’d make you cum. “What is it?”

The grin on his face is positively wolfish, he licks again over your clit and you inhale sharply, “Nothing big.”

“No?” You ask and another lazy lick combined with a rock of his fingers he says, “No. I just want you to tell me I’m better than Randy is and I’ll make you cum your brains out.”

Your heart drops, you shake your head, for some reason, that wakes you up, makes the heat inside you cool, you feel like that is the line, that is too far, you say, “No, I-I can’t do that.”

He tsk’s, “Shit, guess you don’t want to cum that bad then.” He didn’t stop though. He didn’t pull away, far from it, he goes back to eating you out and fingering you he just kept fucking stopping before you could cum and he kept on posing that question, your juice painting his chin.

“You wanna admit it yet?” And you kept on telling him, “No-no, I-I don’t ha-have anything to admit.”

It made him laugh. He had two fingers three knuckles deep inside you, right now and felt your clit pulsing in pure frustrated need in his mouth less than two seconds ago but sure, you had nothing to admit. “I can feel how hot and worked up you are, how many times have I edged you already? You are a really, really bad fucking liar.”

“M’ not lying!” You attempt to assert but your voice wavers, “No? So I’m not better than Randy? He makes you sweat and tremble like this before he’s ever even made you cum once?”

You bite the inside of your cheek and refuse to meet his gaze. You want to thread your fingers in that stupid sexy messy hair and grind on his tongue until he makes you cum, not have this stupid battle of wills.

“Mmm, yeah that is why you aren’t able to look at me, because I am so far off base.” He sounds unbearably smug and he slides his fingers out of you and you almost break, you want to sob and plead for him to continue but he is sucking the mess that had coated his fingers and you again feel your mind going blank at the visual.

He is getting up and his erection pressed against the denim looks like it has to hurt, he was starting to undo his pants and said once he was standing at full height, “How about you return the favour though and see if your tune changes?”

That sounds way too appealing to you especially because you could pay him back with some torture of your own and torture you do. After taking in the sight of him bare, your mouth is practically watering, he looks frankly delicious and you intend to dine happily. Your hand locks around the base and you lean in, eyes staring up at his face as your tongue makes the first pass, intent on taking in his expression and how he reacts to the movement. It is positive to say the least, the slight inhale, the tensing of his muscles, and the small curse that spills out. Your tongue flicks over his flushed tip, tasting the ample pre-cum that he had been leaking, your lips close, a chaste kiss before you begin to move down one side of his shaft, he is impossibly hot and throbbing in your grip.

This is going to be too easy.

Is what you initially thought but you would also be very wrong, because even as you let him breach your mouth, even as you begin to suck and take more of him in, you don’t feel in control or empowered. You feel weaker and hotter, he made you feel so fucking good with seemingly such little effort that you being able to do the same, to pull such reactions out of him makes you want consider his previous offer more seriously.

You try to push those thoughts away as you blow him.

You gag yourself, choke on him and it makes him groan your name, his hips buck, he fucks in and out of your lips stretched around him and drool slips out, slides down your neck as you hold his hip with one hand, the other around the base of him still, hand working him in tandem with your mouth. You look up again, his eyes are still on you, on the length of him sliding between your slick lips, his neck and chest blooming red, flush from pleasure painted over his features as he pants and you squeeze your thighs together.

All in all you used your mouth on him for around five minutes before you break, pulling him out you ask, out of breath and needy, “Fuck me?”

Randy is coming inside after going to get himself some breakfast, it’s around ten AM, sun shining and he is carrying a stack of mail and thinking about giving you a call soon to make up for him bailing last night. The movie was a good time but he missed you, he didn’t do much after the movie, came back here and went to bed basically, he thinks you will probably be up soon. He is about to sit down on the couch when something catches his eye, namely, a tape half in half out of the VCR. He comes forward, he pulls the tape out and there are no markings whatsoever on it, odd.

He is curious enough that he thinks why not, he shrugs and pops the tape in, he walks back around the coffee table and is flipping through the mail again but what he hears gives him pause, makes him stop.

Hearing a very familiar modulated voice greeting him, “Hello Randy. Been a while. Seems like some stuff has changed for you, like the cute girlfriend, she’s new. I like what I have seen of her, how much I have seen of her, thought you’d be interested to see what she was up to last night that I managed to catch on video.”

And the voice over cuts out and instead he is hearing your voice, gasping out, “Mickey oh my fucking God-”

He pauses flipping through and looks up and what he sees playing out on the screen makes him gasp.

The video shows a well lit apartment, the main focus of the shot is a couch, the view is from the side and bent over the arm of the couch pointing at the lens is you, not a stitch of clothing on, fingers digging into blue fabric, open mouthed and moaning, with who the fuck else but Mickey Altieri behind you. He was fucking you and seemingly you were loving every second of it, your face twisted in bliss and rocking back onto him, “Yes, yes, yes-”

“Good?” He asked with a laugh and your head pitches forward, a shaky nod and you hum the affirmative, “Mmhm!”

“Yeah it is, fuck you’re tight.” His hand reaches out, he grabs your hair, wraps the handful around his fist and he tugs hard, you cry out and clench down on him making him suck his own teeth from the sharp jolt of pleasure, he is pulling your hair so your head snaps back up, making sure he is showing off your gorgeous expressions for the camera.

Little did you know that when he passed by the camera set on the counter earlier to grab his bootleg he turned it on, that it had been running this whole time. It didn’t take much to edit it, or to add the voice over or for him to sneak it into Randy’s apartment either, honestly it was too easy if anything.

Randy had dropped the mail and was slowly sitting down, he can’t stop watching as you rock yourself back, helping impale yourself on Mickey and moaning the whole way. His hand that wasn’t pulling your hair is sliding down and the cry that tears from your throat makes what he is doing obvious, fucking you doggy style and toying with your clit at the same time has you telling him in a few more thrusts, “Shit, oh, ohh Mickey, fuck, I-I’m close again, fuck-”

“You gonna give it up? You gonna say what we both know is true?” He prompts and you shake your head, “I-I cah-can’t, Mickey, just, let me cum, please-”

“Not till you say it.” His hand is out of your hair and laying a hard hit onto your ass that makes your back arch and finally you can’t take it any longer, your confession pours out, “You’re better than him okay?! Fuck, fuck! You’re so, so much better tha-than Randy, make me feel so good, he-he’s a joke next to you, God, don’t stop!”

“Oh there you go, see? Doesn’t being honest feel so, fucking, good?” Those last three words are bookended by a brutal thrust, another strong move of his fingers and finally you break, nodding along, agreeing as you cum chanting his name over and over like some broken and fucked up prayer, trembling the entire time as the pleasure tears through you and threatens to make you collapse.

“What the fuck…” Randy asks quietly as he continues to watch the scene unfold, watch as Mickey keeps railing you totally dumb and you agree with all the fucked up things he asks, drooling and telling him, “You’re so good, so much better, keep, ah, keep fucking me, please!”

“You think I’m able to stop now? Not a fucking chance.”

He can’t bring himself to turn it off. Even as you continue to insult him, even as Mickey makes you parrot back that Randy is quote, “A shit fuck-ing boyfriend who doesn’t deserve you.”

When you say it though it sounds a lot more broken and pathetic, "He-he's a shit fu-fuck-ing boyfriend who-who doesn't deserve meeee-"

Randy gets shamefully, embarrassingly, painfully hard as Mickey fucks you harder and harder, fucks you through another two more orgasms and a few more good position changes. Watching you ride him while he has a hand locked around your throat is hard to take, but the worst has to be when Mickey has his arms wrapped around you, fucking up into you and you are just trying to take it, legs shaking and too weak to do anything else but cling to and kiss him as he has you, as he holds you. That sloppy kiss is broken, your eyes squeezed shut as you are telling him for the fourth time since the tape started, “Mickey, I’m close again, God, yes!”

And not only do you cum, not only do you sob out his name as Mickey’s hard dick slips in and out of your well fucked hole, no, you end up squirting too, something Randy didn’t even know your body was capable of. Your moan bleeds, cracks at the edges and the man fucking you laughs, a blissed out joyful sound of disbelief, “Holy shit!”

The amount that comes out of you is impressive, he watches as the camera picks up the rivulets of liquid as they race down Mickey’s shaft and his sac and the quickly darkening stain under the pair of you as he doesn’t relent even for a moment. Mickey kisses you, deeply, sloppy and to add further insult to injury, after you are coming down from your orgasm, he breaks that same kiss he initiated and asked, “Randy ever make you squirt like that?”

And you laugh, eyes rolling back and a shake of your head as you breathlessly admit, dumb and cock drunk as you tell him, “No way, not once.”

The tape doesn’t even stop there, it goes on until Mickey is the one warning you minutes later of his impending orgasm and it is like you become possessed, your hands lock behind his neck, a burst of energy, motivated, you ride with abandon and Mickey doesn’t even have to ask, you are too far gone, you are the one who begs, “Cum inside, don’t pull out!”

He should get up.

He should turn off the tv.

He should take out the tape and smash it to bits but no, he does none of those things. He watches helplessly as Mickey’s hands grip your hips so hard Randy bet’s they will bruise as he holds deep and unloads inside of you. Mickey let out a groan of your name and you shiver and Randy is sure you can feel every pulse of him as he fills you.

The come down is sickeningly and stomach turningly intimate, he feels as if he is intruding on a private moment even though you are his girlfriend. He watches the kisses passed back and forth, the soft touches and he is about to wonder when the tape WILL finally cut when he hears that mocking voice of Ghostface again, “Pretty hot, huh? I think they make a good couple, what about you Meeks? You enjoy the sequel?”

And the screen goes black.

He sits there staring at the tv set for all of thirty seconds before he gets up and goes over. He doesn’t hesitate to hit rewind. He should talk to you, confront you about what happened, what this means, what you did but when the tape finishes rewinding he doesn’t do that.

He takes his original seat and frees himself from his pants and guilty enjoys the second of what is sure to be many viewings with his dick hard and hot in his palm.

#HOOOO BOY #HERE IT IS #Mickey Altieri X Reader #Ghostface x reader #BHF writing #Thank you again to Riri and Ace for all the assists!#I loved writing this so fucking much #Randy Meeks X Reader

779 notes · View notes

noahsmuse · 20 days

Text

being in a relationship with noah hc’s

-he’s a gentlemen first and foremost !!!! he holds your shopping bags, will literally RUN in front of you just so he can hold the door for you, pulls your seat out in restaurants and opens the car door for you when your getting inside and out of the car

-he notices everything new about you, did you re-dye that one part of your hair ? he knew it immediately. he’s a very observant guy and always compliments how you look, saying that your hair, makeup, outfit etc. looks amazing especially if he can tell if your experimenting with new looks and products

-he remembers EVERYTHING about you, no matter whether good or bad. just like how he’ll poke fun at you whenever you trip over your own feet and claims you need to be wrapped up in bubble wrap. BUT he does remember things like what you usually order at different restaurants, what your favorite kind of drink is and exactly how you like it

-doing fashion shows for him after you get mail or come back from the mall !!!!! as soon as you’d walk through the door with your new clothes, he’s SAT. and ready for you to try on your new wardrobe, he thinks you look great in everything and is a VERY good hype-man

-since he’s off social media & doesn’t have his own, he makes it a point to follow you from the band account and also likes every single new post you make, sometimes will even leave silly little comments in relation to whatever you just posted….he’s REALLY down bad for you

-> because of the new found fame for the band and since he deleted his social media accounts, he 100% has a private instagram where he only follows you, the band & crew and some of his other close friends. he posts SO many photos of you and puts some on his story almost everyday, you also had to help him learn how to take good instagram photos. (he’s so proud whenever you actually post one of the photos he took)

-while him & the band create new music for their new albums, he absolutely loves it when you just sit in there with him. you don’t have to do a single thing but just sit there, he does like to hear your opinion on what you think about the new songs and if anything needs to be changed. sometimes you’re even part of the album, he mixes in your laughs and sometimes even your moans

-when he gets invited to/buys tickets concerts, you’re always the very first person that he asks if you wanna come with him (especially if he knows that a band or artist you both like is playing), and obviously you do ?!?!

-> whenever you both are around big crowds, he’s got his hand on your back or holding your hand, guiding you through the big groups of people

-he loves to go on small little vacations/getaways in the little bit of time that he has off from touring and making music !!!!! especially because of how much time the both of you would be spending together, making memories and exploring somewhere new :)

-even though you’re more than welcome to steal any of his hoodies, he always saves you a hoodie/shirt from the online drops. and when you visit them on tour, you just HAVE to get a shirt from each tour (more than half of your entire closet is probably bad omens merch at this point)

-> and of course he loves when you style bad omens merch to match what you wear everyday, he also eventually lets you become one of the models for online merch drops (with some photos of you together which makes the fans go CRAZY)

-for arguments, i don’t think that you both would have very often. since the both of you have learned that if you sit down and have a genuine conversation about what things/topics that could cause conflicts can avoid those heated arguments

-the days when he gets back from tour, usually you both just order something or sometimes make a meal to eat with him and he LOVES to just lay down, share a blanket and cuddle you after being gone for so long while watching an anime you both like ♡

#noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fluff #noah sebastian headcanons #bad omens x reader

146 notes · View notes

airaibunny · 8 months

Text

dom!yunjin+dom!fem!reader x sub!kazuha - “permission” (warnings: smut, threesome, oral, breasts/nipple play, finger sucking[idk if this has a real name], fingering, praise)

a/n: requested! this one took me too long as well, sorry everyone!

word count: 2k

you and yunjin’s relationship is by no means a secret. all of the girls know about it, and they’re very supportive. however, kazuha’s support has always seemed a bit too enthusiastic. she’s always looking at you guys with certain amazement in her eyes.

yunjin agrees with you that kazuha seems more immersed in your relationship than you guys yourselves. you both ignored this for as long as you could, but the way kazuha’s eyes constantly fall on your lips when you kiss drove you insane. of course it took a while for you both to accept that you had developed a desire of sorts for her, but it became far too unbearable to continue denying it.

yunjin was the one who proposed that you act upon what all three of you were apparently thinking. you eagerly agreed of course, but were unsure of how you would even do so. there was always the possibility that you were both wrong and kazuha didn’t feel the same way.

after a lot of thinking and deliberating however, you finally settled on a game plan. today is the perfect day to go through with it. all the other girls are gone for an interview, so it’s just you three.

with one final nod from yunjin, you get up from the couch and walk to kazuha’s room. you politely knock at the door and hear a soft ‘come in.’ you do so, and leave the door slightly ajar behind you.

“what are you doing?” you ask, sitting on the bed beside her. “just, thinking i guess.” you get closer to her. “thinking about what?” you notice how nervous she becomes all of the sudden. “nothing.”

“is it a person?” you tease, hoping you’re correct in assuming that the person, or rather people, are you and yunjin. “it’s none of your business.” you smirk at her, running your index finger up and down her thigh. “is it me and yunjin?” you take a pause and she doesn’t respond to you, she just stares at your hand on her thigh.

“do you imagine us kissing for you? touching you?” you lean in closer to her ear and grab her face.

“fucking you?”

you feel her breathing halt and can’t help but chuckle. she’s staring at your lips, so you decide to be nice and give her what she wants.

you pull her in for a kiss. in shock, she doesn’t kiss back at first, but she quickly changes her mind. you push her on her back and straddle her. the kiss is slow and deep, you both savor each other completely. however, kazuha soon realizes the magnitude of what she’s doing and slightly pulls away.

“what about yunjin?” her hand is on your chest now and she’s looking up at you. “i’m sure she wouldn’t mind.” you continue kissing her, letting your hands wander inside her shirt. you hear footsteps approaching the door, but you don’t pull away.

“aw, you started without me?”

kazuha freezes under you as yunjin walks closer to the bed. you see her watching in awe as yunjin leans down to kiss you. yunjin pulls away after a few seconds and sits on the bed beside you guys. kazuha is still not moving.

“c’mon zuha, i see how you look at my girlfriend. you’re telling me you don’t want to touch her?” yunjin playfully remarks, inching closer to you. “you can do it, i’m giving you permission.” she smiles down at her, she looks so perfect below you. you want to rip her clothes off and play with her until she’s a whining mess. you know you have to be gentle and patient though, you don’t want to hurt her.

“why don’t you help her yunjin?” you pull your shirt off and toss it to the side. kazuha’s eyes widen at the sight in front of her and you hear your girlfriend giggling. “give me your hands.” kazuha eagerly follows her command. yunjin places her hands on your breasts, guiding her on what to do. kazuha’s soft hands along with yunjin’s motions quickly make you incredibly wet.

after a few minutes of this goes by, you become hyperaware of the rest of your clothes and theirs.

“let’s get these off.” you request, tugging at the band of kazuha’s shorts. you wait for her approval before sliding off of her and pulling her shorts and underwear down. you notice yunjin undressing beside you as kazuha’s eyes roam her body.

“isn’t she so pretty?” you whisper down at kazuha, but you make sure yunjin can hear you as well. she nods and you smile, pulling her up slightly so you can take her shirt off. her arms come up to her chest in an attempt to cover herself, but yunjin doesn’t let her. “don’t cover yourself up, pretty girl. we want to see.” she leans down to kazuha’s lips and kisses her for the first time.

you become entirely entranced in what they’re doing and forget to remove the rest of your clothes. yunjin notices this and pulls away from the kiss. “why are you still dressed?” you immediately take off your shorts and underwear, tossing them aside without looking at where they landed.

“better.” yunjin remarks, leaning closer to you for a kiss. she tries to pull away, but you roughly pull her back in. she smiles into the kiss and you’re sure you can feel yourself leaking onto the sheets. “are you enjoying the show?” you speak in kazuha’s direction. she doesn’t answer, so you stop and fully look at her.

“zuha, are you not going to speak to us?” you asks, pouting at her. “sorry…” you chuckle at her and plant a kiss on her cheek. “no need to be shy, it’s okay.” she nods.

“just relax, angel.” with that, yunjin pulls kazuha up and leans her against her chest. she brings her hands up to her breasts, but stops to ask for her consent. “is this okay?” kazuha nods once again and yunjin accepts it, but you don’t.

“you’re going to have to use words, pretty girl” you shift your eyes to yunjin “ask her again, love.”

yunjin complies and asks her question again. “is this okay?” there’s a few seconds of silence and you encourage kazuha to go ahead.

“yes, please.”

you and yunjin smile and shower her with kisses. “good job!” a smile spreads across her lips and you can tell she’s enjoying the praise. you shoot yunjin a specific look and she immediately understands. “you’re such a good girl for your unnies, zuha.” your hand lands on her waist as yunjin plays with her breasts, earning small moans from her.

“i think that merits a reward. do you agree, yunjin?” “of course.”

you give yunjin a kiss before parting kazuha’s legs part and lowering yourself between them. you can feel your own folds leaking even more when you notice how soaked she is. “you’re dripping, pretty girl. all of this for us?”

“yes, unnie. all for you.”

your breathing halts a bit at her answer. she sounds so hot saying that in between moans. “say that again.” she hesitates for a second, but a small ‘go on’ from yunjin is all the encouragement she needs.

“it’s all for you, unnie.”

“good girl, zuha.” yunjin hums against kazuha’s skin. you direct your attention to her thighs, leaving rough kisses all over them. you make sure to leave a trail of marks with your lips. you tease her for a few more seconds, getting closer to her sensitive spot but never actually touching it.

“unnie, no more teasing, please.” you leave one last kiss on her thigh before moving your lips right over her clit. “tell me if you want me to stop, okay, pretty girl?” kazuha nods.

you feel yunjin’s hand on the back of your head and she pushes you down. as soon as your lips meet with kazuha’s heat she gasps. you can’t help but giggle at her reaction.

you start running your tongue up and down her folds, slightly pushing it inside her entrance every time you pass it. “you taste so good.” you pull away to make the remark, but immediately go back. more whines leave her lips as you continue dragging your tongue all over her core. you can hear yunjin praising her above you, surely adding to her pleasure.

you shift your attention to her clit, circling it with your tongue and sucking on it. yunjin’s hand is still on the back of your head, pushing you deeper into her. you use your hand to mirror what your tongue is doing and draw circles on her thigh.

it only takes a few more seconds before kazuha’s thighs are tensing around your head. you speed up a bit, bringing your hand up to rub her abdomen. she finishes with one loud, drawn out whine. you lap up every bit of fluid coming out of her while at the same time helping her fully finish. when you’re sure you’ve licked her dry, you come up.

you lean into yunjin, letting her taste kazuha on your lips. “hm, she does taste great.” you both look down at kazuha, she’s still short for breath. you place a hand on her chest, instructing her to take deep breaths. “you did so well, pretty girl.”

“thank you, unnie.” you wait for kazuha’s breathing to return to normal before flipping her so she’s facing yunjin while straddling her. you place yourself at her back, holding onto her waist with your hands. you bring your lips to her shoulder, softly biting down on it. “remember to tell us to stop if it becomes too much.” kazuha nods. “i will.”

you watch yunjin’s fingers go down to kazuha’s core. kazuha lets out a small whimper and you tighten your grip on her hips. yunjin gives kazuha a kiss before pushing two fingers inside her. you hear her wince and yunjin lets her get used to the sensation before starting to move. you’re still attacking her shoulders and neck with your mouth.

“are you ready?” yunjin asks, tucking kazuha’s hair behind her ear. “yes, unnie.”

yunjin starts slowly pumping her fingers in and out of kazuha, making sure she’s not going too fast. you bring one of your hands up to her neck, making her head fall back onto your shoulder.

“unnie, faster, please.” you chuckle at how quickly she gained confidence. “whatever you want, angel.” you use the hand you have on her hip to push her further against yunjin’s fingers. “does that feel good?” you whisper against her neck. “yes. please don’t stop.”

“we won’t, don’t worry.” she quickly becomes an incoherent mess as yunjin gradually gains more speed and you gain more pressure on her hips. “you’re doing so well, keep it up.” she tries to thank you, but a whimper comes out instead. it reminds you of the growing tension between your own legs.

“fuck, i can feel you getting close.” yunjin’s voice breaks in the middle of her sentence, you know kazuha is having the same effect on her as well. you bring the hand you have on her neck to her breasts, tugging at her nipples to help her reach her high.

“unnie!” with that, you feel her tense up and see her legs shake. yunjin keeps her fingers in place, slowly losing speed. you continue placing kisses on her neck and shoulders while still playing with her breasts. you both only stop when she’s completely done.

yunjin takes her fingers out of her, they’re completely drenched. she notices you staring and smiles at you. “do you want to help clean this up?” you nod and she brings her hand closer to your face. you open your mouth and she shoves her fingers inside it, letting you lick her dry. kazuha watches this interaction happen in delight, squirming in her spot.

when you’re done, yunjin takes her fingers out and places her hand on kazuha’s thigh. “you were so well behaved, good job.” she gives kazuha a kiss and you do the same.

“yunjin hasn’t gotten to fully taste you, pretty girl. do you think you can let her do that?”

340 notes · View notes

thewritingbeforesunrise · 6 months

Text

Halloween Night 🎃

Prompt 6. campfire ghost stories

18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI

______________________________________

A/N: Hi everyone. Just a little treat for Halloween Night. This was inspired by the wonderful list of prompts created by @hearts-hunger, specifically by number 6. campfire ghost stories.

I really hope you like this!

Word count: 1.5K

Pairing: Jake x female!reader

Warnings: NSFW 18+ONLY, graphic sexual content, oral (f!receiving), general spookiness.

Summary: Ghosts aren’t real, are they?

________________________________

It was a chill evening in late October. Your friends had invited you to join them for a party around a campfire and you didn't know why you had accepted.

You didn't really understand all the hype for the Spooky Season so you had given in to their pleas just because you didn't want to be considered the usual killjoy.

Your friends had recommended that you wore a costume and when you had rolled your eyes at the request, they joked that they would send you right home if you didn't.

So you relented, opting for a simple white long-sleeved flowy dress to portray a ghost.

It was rather simple, but you liked it.

Of course, as soon as they saw you, your so-called friends didn't fail to point out the minimum effort you had made to build your costume.

At that, all you wanted to do was turn around and walk away when you saw him.

You had never seen him. Or you would have remembered him.

He was sitting a little apart from everyone else, and no one was by his side.

He had long brown hair and deep brown eyes that shone like gold and copper with the flickering orange light coming from the bonfire.

He had an acoustic guitar on his lap and was strumming away lazily, looking completely lost in his mind.

You understood he was dressed as a pirate because of the flowy white shirt he was wearing, almost totally unbuttoned, showing off his chest, and the three-cornered hat by his side, on the bench he was sitting on.

You sat down on a blanket opposite to him and kept observing him as he strummed away on his guitar.

As if he could sense he was being watched, his gaze lifted from the guitar and locked with yours.

At that exact moment you felt a chill run down your spine and you quickly looked away when someone shouted your name.

When you turned back again, he was gone.

You sighed, a bit sad, and pulled the blanket up on your shoulders.

It was getting very cold outside.

Someone suggested telling ghost stories around the fire and everybody cheered, gathering around there to listen.

One of your friends started telling an old story of ghosts and as you took a look around, you spotted the mysterious boy again.

He was surrounded by people but the scene looked a little odd. The people around him seemed to completely ignore him. It looked like they didn't even see him there.

He still had his guitar on his lap, you could hear the melancholic tune he was playing very clearly from where you were.

His eyes met yours again, as if he knew you were watching him.

He smiled this time and you mirrored him.

The shiver you felt when his eyes met yours for the second time turned into a scorching hot feeling that spread in your stomach and made your cheeks tinge pink.

Suddenly the music stopped with a sharp sound.

One of the chords of his acoustic broke, making his beautiful melody stop abruptly.

He sighed and dropped the instrument on the ground before standing up, picking up the guitar and heading towards the house.

He moved around people and, again, you thought that something was off. They seemed to be completely oblivious of his presence among them.

As he disappeared in the darkness of the house, you found yourself on your feet with the blanket around your shoulders following the same path he had taken mere minutes before you.

The house was completely dark and silent when you got there, the only feeble light coming from the crescent moon high in the sky.

You started roaming around the big rooms and corridors lined with closed doors until you found one of them, the last one of the floor, with its dark wooden door slightly ajar.

From the outside, you could see a warm orange glow reflected on the shiny floorboard that creaked under every step you took to slowly move forward and peer inside.

As you got closer, the desire to enter grew unbridled in your chest.

Before you knew it and without any recognition of it, you found yourself inside the room.

He was there, sitting on the bed with his acoustic still on his lap. He was fumbling with the new guitar strings he was neatly and carefully fastening on his instrument in the light of a little bedside lamp.

When he sensed your presence there, he lifted his gaze to yours and motioned you to come closer.

With slightly unsteady steps, you walked towards him and you heard your dress flutter on the ground. You dropped the blanket around your feet.

He observed you closely, without saying a single word.

You felt your cheeks turning pink the more his eyes bore into yours.

When he stood, you backed away and ended up against the wall behind you.

He came closer and his icy fingers grazed your cheek, making you shiver.

His thumb started caressing your bottom lip and you nodded.

You needed to feel his lips on yours.

When his cool lips touched yours, a shudder ran down your spine and a burning feeling invaded your body.

He slowly backed away from the wall and ended up sitting on the bed again, in the exact same position in which you found him.

His hands slipped to your hips and squeezed, making you sigh.

He kissed your clothed tummy and your hands tangled in his soft hair.

He started bunching up the fabric of your dress and when his lips touched your bare skin, your grip on his hair tightened, making him groan.

He kissed and kissed your tummy, the feeling of his plush lips was so addicting.

When he hooked his fingers in your panties you surprised yourself as you helped him slide them off your legs.

His big doe eyes met yours from below and you pleaded with him with a soft whisper.

He didn't speak, he just started placing his kisses lower and lower on your tummy making you shiver.

When he reached the downy hair between your legs, you gasped and his eyes connected with yours immediately.

You pleaded with him again and he smiled sweetly at you, giving you what you needed.

His mouth dipped lower and his tongue slid gently between your folds.

You gasped and he continued placing gentle kisses and licks between your legs.

Your grip in his hair tightened even more when he placed one of your feet on the bed, to have better access to your center.

Your head fell backwards with a moan when his rhythm quickened and he started playing with your clit with quick expert rolls of his thumb.

He moaned, sending sweet vibrations through you and your body jolted forward as you reached your peak.

You fell on the bed in ecstasy, but when you started calming down you noticed something odd.

The room was dark and silent. Nobody was there beside you, every hint of his presence was gone.

You exited the room, looking for him, but the hallway was empty and dark.

You went slowly down the stairs only to find some of your friends in the kitchen, getting marshmallows to bring outside.

They saw you and greeted you.

But you didn't meet their eyes.

Your eyes were fixed on the wall right behind them where a few pictures decorated the wall.

One in particular caught your eye and you felt your body start to shiver.

A thin layer of cold sweat started covering your skin.

There he was.

His eyes were looking right at you from a black and white old photograph on that wall.

He was standing in the middle of a countryside road with an old hat on his head and a cigarette dangling from his lips. That same acoustic guitar by his side. On his lips there was a barely-there smile and his gaze was lost in the distance.

Underneath that picture, there were a few neatly scribbled words.

Jacob T. Kizska 1966 - 1992

One of your friends saw you looking at the picture and detached it from the wall, handing it to you.

"Who is this?" You asked, with a trembling voice.

"This was a blues artist who was very famous around town. He was the owner of this house actually." She said looking at the picture herself.

You were starting to shake, unable to think straight.

"Oh, and since we are all in a horror story mood, you should know that he was found dead in this house, right in the room at the end of the hallway upstairs" your friend confessed to you, with a makeshift spooky voice.

You paled.

The room at the end of the hallway.

You quickly turned to go outside but you stopped abruptly.

"Hey, are you ok?" One of your friends asked, slowly waving a hand before your eyes.

A chill sensation pervaded you when, sitting on the armchair in front of the fireplace, you saw a figure.

There he was, smiling at you in the exact same way he was smiling in that picture.

When your breath caught in your throat, his smile turned into a smirk.

"You look like someone who has just seen a ghost." Your friend said, chuckling and going outside to join the other people, completely oblivious of the man sitting on the armchair that winked at you and patted his lap at your friend's remark.

__________________________

Taglist: @gvfpal @sammyslappers @spark-my-nature @highladyofasgard @sparrowofthedawnsworld @jessicafg03 @doodle417 @hellowgoodbye @ejoygvf @jaketlover @jakekiszkasbabymama @objectsinspvce @indigostreakmorgan @witchofendora @myleftsock @gretavanshmeat @gretasfallingsky @giraffehippy @jennasometimesreads @katiegvf @sinarainbows @laney_gvf @themorningbirds @starcatcherchords @lipstickitty @meetingthestardust @joshskittytickler @livkiszka @twistedmelodies @ignite-my-fire @gvfmarge @writingcold

#greta van fleet #greta van fic #greta van smut #gvf fic #fanfic #jake kiszka #jake kiszka smut #jake gvf #jake kiszka x reader #halloween

106 notes · View notes

sadakorosee · 1 year

Text

Friends fight too

all turtles x fem!reader (platonic, best friend relationships)

summary: friends fight all the time and sometimes it gets a bit too far

A/N: this is probably my, like, 5th angst fanfic of these turtles. told ya im the expert when it's angst; i like to break people's hearts ;)

"the best fights don't occur between strangers. they occur between friends who trust each other." - chuck palahniuk

It was a cool simple Tuesday night when the turtles and you went out for your patrol. You're a still in training to become part of their team as a female ninja - a kunoichi. You've trained under their watch and Splinter's but mostly Splinter. The turtles, when not occupied to save the city under Chief Vincent's order, would train you.

Even Mikey. Yes. His classes aren't easy to catch up especially when he's hyped about you joining their team. He makes sure you eat enough so you can build a muscle.

"Don't be as bad as Raph, though." He said one time and with sharp ears, Raph threw a spare shoe at Mikey's head and knocked him over.

Almost 9 months into training, you were 87% ready according to Donnie's statistics. A week or two and you'll be 100% ready depending on your confidence.

Whoever said ninjutsu was easy, they're nuts. Here you are in your early 20s learning extensive martial arts, you are sure your legs are going to give out the moment you're in real combat.

Which is happening right now - Donnie's monitors picked up movements from a factory 10 minutes from their whereabouts and Casey Jones, who is now the NYPD's lead detective, contacted them that there was a gang infiltrated the place. The turtles responded.

"We'll be there by truck." Leo informed Casey and turned to you, "Head back to the lair."

"Wait, I'm not going with you? I'm almost full-on kunoichi."

"It's too dangerous, y/n. You're not ready for this combat yet."

"So I head straight to the lair after my 9-5 job to do my training despite being in my 20s and busted my ass doing the training and you're benching me? What the fuck, Leo?" You were pissed. What's the point of training so hard if he's pushing you away from real combat?

"Guys, we have to go." Donnie called. Without further arguments, you ended up following them to their mission.

Part of you was excited but deep down, you were nervous. Perhaps Leo was right; maybe you weren't 100% ready and into the mission.

"You okay, angel?" Mikey interrupted your thoughts and nudged your knee. "It's alright, I'll protect you! Just stay behind my back and fight as many bad people as you can!"

Oh, that much you could do and it was easy bringing down human fighters. There were 30 of them against 5 of you. It was a piece of cake until-

Whatever these gang wanted to retrieve, it was important to them as they're willing to hold down 4 large turtles and cut their skin with their blades while you stood there with a grey suitcase in your hand, threatening to throw it into a pit of fire below you. Above you was a gap to the rooftop, a chance for you to escape with the suitcase to your reinforcements outside waiting for you; Casey.

You were about to escape until you see their leader taking out a shotgun that brings down large animals and you knew it was enough to kill the turtles with one shot. Their shells may be bulletproof but their physical bodies weren't.

"Give us the suitcase, little girl, or your mutant friend's head will explode in pieces." The gun pointed at Mikey's head and he exclaimed, trying to struggle his way out but there were more than 5 men holding him down.

"Run, y/n! Get out of here!" Raph shouted but all you heard was ringing in your ears. You froze. You started wheezing at the thought of your friends getting taken down by a shotgun.

You made a huge mistake.

You didn't remember a thing - as soon as your mind was clear, you were outside the now burnt down factory but the suitcase you thought you were holding was gone. Your fists formed into a ball and repeatedly hitting yourself.

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

The ride back to the lair was dead silent, even Mikey didn't look too happy. The truck abruptly stopped at an empty undercross bridge, away from the main lights and city. The turtles stepped outside and this was it; you knew they were furious at something- or rather, someone.

"What the heck were you thinking, y/n? You had that suitcase with you and you had that chance to escape to Casey." Leo started, calm on the outside but pissed on the inside. He towered over you as he speaks, "If you didn't play hero, this case would've been closed."

"Why the heck did you stay up there?" Raph's critic came after.

"Now the suitcase is gone. It was our only source to ever find these gangs. They're tougher than the foot clan." Donnie remained calm but his arms were crossed staring at you. "All evidence of them existing, just gone."

"y/n.." no, not Mikey too. "You could've ran and save yourself. We'd be totally okay."

"They were gonna shoot you, Mike. I can't--"

"Didn't I say you weren't ready for this? And what did you do then? Full-on kunoichi, you say? Not even close to our level," Leo went up to your face, scaring you for the first time. "You screwed up our plans all because you were too cocky to admit you can't be like us. Master Splinter was wrong about you being the addition to our team."

Strike one: to the heart.

"If you weren't stupid enough to freeze like a deer caught in headlights, the cops wouldn't look at us like we're a joke. Thanks to you, by the way." Raph scoffed, eyes glaring at your shaking figure.

Strike two.

"If only you had stayed behind." You couldn't believe your ears when Donnie mumbled that but you caught on, tears pooling down your cheeks.

Strike three.

Mikey stayed silent the whole time they criticized you and went inside the truck. The 4 of them got so caught up in their own feelings and disappointment, they drove off back to the lair not realizing they left you behind in the streets all by yourself.

Just like that - something in you snapped and as the last tear dropped to the wet ground, so does your body.

The beautiful April O'Neil entered the lair 5 days after the accident happened with Chinese food takeouts and Casey walking in behind her with boxes of pizzas. "Hey, guys! Food's here!" Casey called out and immediately all 4 turtles rushed towards their human friends. Mikey practically hogged two pizza boxes but Casey smacked his hand away. "Excuse you. Ladies first." He winked at April.

After the turtles thanked them, Leo broke the ice, "How's everything at the precinct, Case?"

"Actually, we got a lead on the gang's movement. We have our spy with them."

"That was quick." Donnie commented.

"Uh, have you heard from y/n lately?" Raph asked, causing tension in the air. While the turtles looked at each other guiltily, they failed to realize Casey and April sharing looks.

"Have you?" Donnie realized his human friends weren't answering. He turned to April this time. "April?"

"Wait-" Casey pulled April aside, far enough so the turtles don't hear them whispering, "We were instructed not to tell them, April. She said-"

"I know.. she said not to tell but--"

"Guys!" Raph's voice boomed the lair, flinching at how loud he was being. "Sorry but are you hiding something from us? Did something happen to y/n?"

All April could do right now was shaking her head, her facial expression gloomed.

Both April and Casey's phone dinged at the same time. Looking at each other curiously, they looked down their phones. Slowly, the message registered in their heads and without saying anything, they rushed out of the lair leaving the turtles bewildered.

The turtles haven't heard from April and Casey for 2 hours. Whatever the message they received, it was involving their 5th member; you.

Unable to sit still, the 4 of them followed Casey's GPS.

"Casey's at the PD?" Leo frowned. "Then there's nothing to worry about, right?" When Donnie didn't answer and looked as if he's concentrating on something, Leo caught on. "You hacked into Casey's phone and listening to the conversation?"

"What-- uhh yeah," Donnie chuckled guiltily. "But nothing's happening. He's just catching up with another case that's-- hey, it's April's voice!" Donnie put on a speaker for the rest to hear.

"Hey, how's everything going?" Casey asked her.

"It doesn't look good, Case.. They called me at 2am saying her heartbeat stopped from the toxins and managed to revive her back to life but then she had a seizure." April's voice trembled, followed by sniffing. "She was fine when we picked her up that night and told me the turtles were mad at her. They left her when she was dying, Case. I never thought--"

"It's okay."

"Wait, dying?" Mikey stepped back. "y/n's dying?"

"We don't know for sure it's y/n.. m-maybe it's--"

"y/n is a tough girl. She lasted long in that mission. I didn't even know she was stabbed and injured badly. She-- she's good at hiding her pain, April. At least we found her on time."

"T-They're talking about y/n!" Mikey was already sobbing.

"Toxins? Stabbed? Their blades were poisoned," Donnie barely whispered, stepping back in disbelief by what they just overhead. Raph was pacing in the background; Leo had his head down. They will always recall the night they criticize you - yes, they were disappointed they failed the mission but half of them feared for your life that night.

They nearly lost April to Shredder throwing her off Sacks building and they didn't want to repeat that mistake again but history repeats itself.

The PD had built a secret entry for the turtles' transportation to go through and that's where they're headed immediately after finding out what happened to you.

"Chief Vincent." The brothers walked into the PD, their tall forms towering over all the cops and staffs there. They were told to keep their existence a secrecy and they came over a lot for complicated missions so they're used to the turtles bursting into their department.

"Leonardo," Vincent greeted. "I don't remember calling you over about a case."

"We're not here for a case. We need your help with something." Leo started, then Donnie moved to the front handing her a canister with a blue chemical inside.

"This is for y/n.. we know what happened to her so I made an antidote for the toxin in her body. She'd feel more pain but this would detoxify her internal organs. She'll be in good shape after 1 week of bed rest." Donnie swallowed trying not to cry.

Don't cry, Don. Be strong.. for y/n.

"I will." Chief Vincent smiled in encouragement and put a hand on Donnie's large ones, "Don't worry. We have the best doctors to treat her. Keep her in your prayers," she flinched, "if you believe in those, though."

The antidote Donnie created worked, much to the doctors' surprise. They asked the genius behind the creation. After 1 painful week of your body detoxing, you finally opened your eyes to bright lights and the holter monitor annoying you. You finally recall the past events and your body shot up, forgetting the sharp pain on your lower abdomen. You hissed by the excruciating feeling.

"y/n, hey hey hey, it's me April." April held you back from moving so much. As if your reaction says it all, she sighed, "You got poisoned on your last mission. Did you remember?"

Oh yeah, you remember - when your body hit the ground, you were conscious for a while and pressed the emergency button to whoever's responding. The turtles didn't have their own personal phone, except Donnie's communication device, so it was April that came to the rescue. All you remember was being brought to the emergency room and doctors asking you questions. You blacked out after that.

"Yeah." you responded, voice half gone. April handed her water. "How long was I out?"

"15 days."

"Feels like centuries." You grumbled.

April laughed, "Actually, you died like twice and the hospital couldn't find other solutions to help you. Luckily, our friend created an antidote for you after they found out." You frowned. "I know you said not to tell them but Donnie hacked Casey's phone when they overheard me talking. He actually thought I didn't know." She winked at the end.

You finally got discharged and went straight to the Chief Vincent, who helped with your treatment.

"Chief, I'm sorry I screwed up on our last mission. Don't blame the turtles; they were trapped and I was the one holding the suitcase that night. I should've ran and hand it to you."

"Well, sometimes things don't go our way. But the good news, our medical team managed to track down the poison that came from your body and traced it to a well-known dealer in (F/C/N). Thanks to you, our team is already there apprehending them." She put a hand on your shoulder. "Good job, l/n."

"Good job but at the cost of my life." You grumbled.

April chuckled and put her arms around you. "Wanna see our turtle friends? They've been waiting for your return."

It felt like years since you last walked into the lair, when it's only been 15 days. Even though you missed the turtles, you were anxious. If they weren't so concerned about looking good infront of the humans and paid attention to your injury, none of this would have happened.

But you were at fault too and you accepted that.

"Guys!! Guess who's home!" April yelled out, surprising you a bit cause you were deep in your thoughts.

You heard loud footsteps running towards you and without warning, Mikey landed infront of you making you scream in surprise.

"Whoa whoa whoa! Chill, it's me Mikey! We're cool!" he stepped back after seeing your terrified expression.

The rest huddled up infront of you asking questions here and there until April pushed them away. "Guys, she just got discharged; go back a bit. And no Mikey, she did not see Rihanna at the hospital."

You waved meekly. "Hey, guys."

Raph couldn't help himself and hauled you up in a gentle hug, his chin over your shoulder. "You dumbass. Don't you ever do that again." He forgets about his dignity and sobbed after finally hugging you. Feeling your flesh against his. You were alive. You're in his arms.

Donnie came next and hugged you gently, your arms around his neck. Of course, you didn't miss him sniffing. "Thank goodness the antidote worked. I-I was desperate to make it for you a-and if it didn't work, y-y-y--"

"Okay, braniac." You pulled away laughing, wiping his overflowing tears from his cheek. "It worked and it was hell for me but my body is healthy, thanks to you." You kissed his forehead.

"And you--" you turned around to see Mikey waiting for his hug and you jumped into his arms. "If I die, who's going to finish our hip hop Christmas album?"

"I'm not finishing it without you, angel." Mikey sobbed.

Then finally, Leo. Man, he was getting antsy waiting for his turn to properly welcome you home. And apologize to you earnestly. When you turned around to hug Leo, he was bowing 90 degrees at you. Your eyes widened.

"I'm sorry for what I said to you," Leo remained still in his position. "I was angry and blinded by my pride that I overlooked my own team member and sister who was injured badly to the brink of death. For that, I'm truly sorry and I'm willing to accept any punishment you're giving me."

"Any punishment, you say?"

"Yes." His fists shaped into a ball.

"Buy me Baskin Robbins, choco mint flavoured and--" Leo looked up when you paused and thought he'd be seeing you angry or upset but instead sees you forming tears in your eyes, "--a hug from you. I haven't gotten a hug from you ever since I started my training."

Leo reacted and hugged you so tight you might suffocate to death but you didn't care.

#tmnt 2016 #tmnt bayverse #tmnt bayverse x reader #tmnt angst #tmnt 2014 #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo

300 notes · View notes

futbol16 · 1 year

Text

La Reina’s Guardian · Alexia Putellas

This has been sitting in my requests for a while, sorry about that, but I hope you enjoy!

Request: “Hi, I'm not sure if you're requests are open but I've really enjoyed your work & had an idea. How about a ENGWNT/Barcelona R x Alexia where R is the starting goalkeeper & they've been dating but have just never bothered to announce it. When it comes out people are saying how they're a power couple & being teased by their teammates. Maybe a line from Beth Mead about stealing her thunder. Just fluff & chaotic teams. Hope this wasn't too much. A big please & thanks.”

Word Count: 760

Thanks to your England coach all those years ago, your initials and the number 1 next to them were just as well known and respected as Ronaldo’s CR7.

The first time the world held their breath as they watched you jump around in the goal was in 2017. England’s starting goalkeeper had gone down after a brutal collision and you were sent in for her.

Although you had played in matches before, none of them were as big as this one and your team was already exhausted from the past 50 minutes.

The opposing team gave it their all but you managed to hold out, diving left and right, saving shots no matter where they were shot. The two teams were both at 1-1 until you saved another ball and scanned the pitch.

Most of the two teams were still on your side of the pitch but you notice Nikita running and you send a long kick towards her, she doesn’t have to do much as she taps it in, the Portuguese keeper clearly caught off guard.

Since then you had made a name for yourself, soon earning the spot as starting goalkeeper and then a season later signing with the legendary team that Barcelona is.

Then again proving just how good you were in the Euros this summer where you had managed to keep a relatively clean sheet throughout the matches.

Now as you make your way over to the goal, you get ready for the match against Rosengard, clapping your gloved hands together. You knew the Swedish club was good but you also knew this monster was going to break out the second the whistle would be blown, hence your favorite nickname ‘The Lock-Net Monster’.

Barca is doing great, already up 2-1 before halftime. The opposing team was doing their best to score as well but their only goal was thanks to you getting an elbow to your ribs, the referee blind to the incident.

Team talks are given in the locker room and you hype up the girls even more, confidence oozing from every one of them as you get back onto the pitch.

Barcelona keep up their good work and the game ends with a 4-1 win to your Spanish club.

As always, the injured and benched players come onto the field to celebrate with you all and you catch Alexia’s eyes as she walks towards where you and Lucy are standing conversing.

Your captain congratulates the both of you, and Lucy starts wiggling her eyebrows at you before quickly leaving you alone with Alexia. You smile at her, pulling her into a hug and she whispers into your ear.

“Good job, mi amor. You were great out there.” you blush at the praise though you pull away as you’re well aware of the fans and some cameras turned towards the two of you, watching your interaction.

“Gracias Ale.” you thank her, melting into her touch as she moves a hand up your side and gently placing it on your right ribs.

You knew she’d do this, she’s always been one to check you over for any injuries no matter how many times you’d tell her that the bruises were normal, especially as a goalkeeper.

You hold onto her forearm with a smile, silently reassuring her that you’re okay. You saw the way she worriedly stood up from her seat when you got an elbow to your side.

It’s so natural when she leans in that you suddenly forget about the eyes on you as you connect your lips, your still gloved hands taking their usual place on Alexia’s waist.

The roar of the crowd is what makes your eyes open, the initial confused look on your face quickly turning into a nervous, flustered one.

You look back into Alexia’s eyes, only seeing love in them and with a relieved smile you press a kiss to her cheek before pulling her with you towards where the rest of the Barca girls are making kissy faces at you.

Later that night you officially announce your relationship, Alexia posting your kiss while you posted the hilarious picture of your teammates teasing you as the two of you turn to them hand in hand.

A message from your national teammate, Beth, has you letting out a laugh, a simple “Way to steal my thunder Ms. Y/L/N, now the people have to decide who their favorite couple is.”

You’re quick to get a new nickname from the Culers, undoubtedly your new favorite, La Reina 's Guardian.

#woso imagine #woso one shot #woso x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #futbol16

658 notes · View notes

thrandilf · 10 months

Note

do you have a guide as to the extra materials for The Dragon Prince? i keep seeing stuff about comics or books but idk where to start

Not on hand but I can make one here! :D

There are two, soon to be three, canon graphic novels.

Through the Moon takes place between seasons 3 and 4, like a little season 3.5 It isn't Necessary to read it before watching S4 but the story is cool and the extra information is neat. It feels like we might get more info regarding what happened to Rayla while she was gone later in the show

Bloodmoon Huntress takes place when Rayla is a child around when her parents leave. Lots of Runaan and Ethari, also introduces Kim'dael who will be in S5. Again, not Required reading but a fun extra story.

Puzzle House is coming out August 1st and is about Claudia and Soren as children, and we also get a look at younger Viren and other people. Harrow's father, King Atticus is still king in this one so interesting Katolis lore, SUPER hyped for when we get to read all of this one. The Scholastic link has a 15 pages preview if you wanna take a peek.

There are novelizations for Dragon Prince Season 1 and Season 2, they add a bit of introspection and small extra details. Viren in particular gets more of his internal thought processes laid out and for me it just Confirmed a lot of things. Season 3's novelization is coming out April 2nd, 2024. I'm sure all 7 seasons will eventually have novelizations.

Tales of Xadia is the ttrpg book and it's gorgeous and is probably the most lore heavy supplemental material as far as world building goes. The system also looks fun! The website has a character builder too for OC making. As a writer, it's been a great help as far as seeing some aspects of the world laid out. The system looks fun and there are videos of some of the cortex(?) team playing ToX official tales/campaigns but I haven't watched them yet. The campaigns are also available to look at online too.

I think that ToX is getting an expansion at some point since the base game doesn't touch much on Ocean or Star magic, I imagine due to spoilers for the seasons we're coming up on.

There's also a tabletop game called Battlecharged which I haven't personally played and I don't think it Adds lore but I've heard it's fun.

Also, it will likely be a long time before we see it, but there's a video game in the works as well that's in alpha testing right now called Project Arcanum. Wonderstorm is pretty busy!

BUT WAIT THERE'S MORE

The Free Stuff:

Reflections are official short stories hosted on TDP's website and all of them are excellent and provide little extra scenes. Some of them are quite impactful, and the ones in this second batch are promising an absolutely wild S5. The first batch was released pre S4 and the second batch is being released now pre S5 as we count down to the new season. They aren't Required reading since the most key information from them will be in the show (going by the S4 ones) but I highly HIGHLY rec reading them all. Banger after banger. As of posting this there may be one more coming.

There's also little 4 panel comics called Everyday Xadia that have been also released during countdown mode and they're just fun/cute. Volume One and Volume 2 (still coming out). Sometimes when people say comics they might mean these, or the graphic novels lol.

Thank you for the ask, I'm always happy to share the TDP love and I hope this was helpful to you and anyone else who'd like a ref!

#tdp #the dragon prince #tdp netflix #puzzle house #tales of xadia #ref #reference #feel free to rb/save!

79 notes · View notes

yanderes-galore · 11 months

Note

Imagine Yandere Ekko falling for a piltover healer who likes to visit the undercity to heal people as much as their can(much to silco fury) , which is how their met an injured Ekko ^^

Not finished Arcane yet but I'll see what I got for this >:) Let me know if he's too OOC :(

Yandere! Ekko with Piltover Healer! Darling

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Manipulation, Violence, Overprotective behavior, Dubious relationship, Kidnapping, Paranoia, Murder mentioned.

Ekko isn't going to immediately get along with someone on the higher end of Piltover.

He hates Silco, he hates anyone involved with Silco, end of story.

When he hears of a healer from Piltover visiting to tend to wounded he's skeptical.

Really now? Don't you think you're so nice?

Ekko finds this laughable and treats the thought coldly...

Until he's an injured Firelight needing medical attention.

Due to his chosen job, he could've gotten his wounds in a handful of ways.

An encounter with Enforcers, a run-in with Silco's people hyped on Shimmer, or a raid gone wrong...

The possibilities are nearly endless yet end the same.

He passes out... wakes up... and comes face to face with you.

Ekko is going to have his guard up.

You're covered in a cloak, hiding your true origins.

You're from Piltover... you're not like him...

Yet you help him all the same.

When he wakes up he snaps upwards, breathing heavily.

You try to calm him and he doesn't listen until you bring up not wanting to be caught by Silco.

Caught...? So you aren't working for Silco like the rest....

Such a realization makes Ekko calm down yet he's still on edge.

He asks about you.

You're a healer from Piltover who despises what Silco's done to Ekko's home, Zaun.

The people are addicted to Shimmer... and you just want to heal them.

Ekko holds some respect for you and the fact you healed his wounds, yet he tries to keep contact brief.

You hear him whisper a curt 'thanks' before disappearing into Zaun once again.

That was your first encounter.

Ever since then Ekko has thought back to what you did.

You helped him... a Firelight... out of kindness.

Not many in Piltover are that caring to someone fron Zaun.

He's usually considered a nuisance.

Ekko knows his way around Zaun as a Firelight, he comes across you at times due to this.

Usually he's watching from a distance.

Ekko feels he owes it to you for keeping him and members of Zaun still going despite the Shimmer issue Silco caused.

As a result... Ekko makes a silent vow to keep you safe.

You may not talk much or interact but he's always looking out for you in case Silco decides to target you.

After all, you're helping Firelights.

There's no doubt Silco may send someone like Jinx to silence you.

Ekko always keeps on his Firelight outfit to follow you.

He knows it isn't right but he does feel some sort of care towards you.

You're the only person from Piltover he could get along with.

You're no Enforcer... and he's already confirmed you hate Silco or are scared of him.

Far as he's concerned he can consider you an ally.

In fact... considering you a Firelight may not be too bad.

It's at this conclusion that makes Ekko attempt to meet you more.

When he meets you face to face Ekko ditches the Firelight mask and tries to speak to you casually.

Your talks are always in private in a small building you take up whenever you're ready to treat patients.

Ekko always saw the Firelights as family, though since you healed him, you've gained enough respect for him to care for you similarly.

You are both awkward in conversation at first but soon share topics you have in common.

You speak everything from Silco's behavior to why you bother coming here.

All of which is info Ekko keeps in mind for later.

Befriending you is a great decision.

It not only silences this overwhelming fixation he has but also helps the Firelights.

Gaining a healer can help his group take down Silco a few pegs.

Ekko progressively lowers his guard around you.

He hasn't been able to be this open and vulnerable since Vi and Powder.

Ekko's yandere behavior is calm for the most part.

He acts like your defender in Zaun, he even offers to be a guide.

He cares about you more and more... he even offers you new patients when he comes across them.

You trust the Firelight leader, too.

Since you've helped him, his group has been a huge help to you with protection and patients.

You're friends...

Ekko may even see you as something more due to how close you quickly grow.

Zaun... Piltover... needs more people like you

Ekko is so kind to you... until Silco strikes.

The moment Ekko catches wind that Jinx and Silco have targetted you, he knows you're no longer safe.

You're in danger either in Piltover or Zaun... you need his help now.

Ekko's yandere behavior kicks in when you're threatened at first.

He'll smoke grenade your attacker and order his group to bring you somewhere safe.

Meanwhile... Ekko doesn't mind bashing in the head of whoever's attacked you.

Murder and violence are common in Zaun.

Ekko doubts you'll hold a couple murders against him if he did it to save you.

First, Ekko's "kidnapping" is for safety.

If you want to thrive here, you need to be like him.

He'll help you since you helped him and his group not once... but multiple times after you met.

Soon under his care you both may even start a relationship.

You've grown close while you were in Zaun... when he awkwardly suggests it you may say yes.

Yes, Ekko seems like he'd be awkward with a relationship.

He is a yandere who wants to protect his darling and allies and feels that is what he should focus on.

He cares for you after saving his life... now he'll finally repay the favor.

Nothing seems too wrong until you notice him unable to let you leave.

Ekko doesn't like the idea of letting you out into the open anymore....

He's confident you'd die if he let you go.

Since he's chosen you to love... he hopes you understand what he means.

He doesn't care if you fight him on this, claiming it's wrong.

You know what's wrong?

Expecting him to sit back and allow you to get yourself killed!

Ekko promises he's going to protect and care for you like you've done for him and the Firelights.

Until Silco and Jinx are gone... by his hands or not... he doesn't plan on letting you out of his sight anymore.

#yandere arcane #yandere ekko #yandere league of legends

126 notes · View notes

forestshadow-wolf · 11 months

Text

Soap headcanon because I'm still projecting :) and to distract myself from the fact that my parents are fighting

Soap will sometimes get random bouts of insomnia. And they can sometimes last a little as a few days or as long as a few months. He doesn't know why, it just happens.

It makes him stay up until an hour or two before he has to get up, and then when he wakes up he's left really really tired. He ends up setting his alarms for an hour and a half before he actually has to get up to account for it. Because thats how long it takes for him to be able to drag himself out of bed. He keeps falling asleep after his alarms go off, this happens for an hour and the the last 30 minutes he just lays in bed hating himself for not being able to sleep for so long the night before.

It's not because of nightmares, he's been dealing with those for forever, knows how to handle them.

It's just that he'll go to bed at his normal time, and his eyes will just not close. He could he tired enough to fall asleep on his feet, and as soon as he lays down he's suddenly not tired anymore.

Sometimes he lays in bed doing nothing, sometimes he goes on his phone, sometimes he draws, sometimes he doesn't even bother with getting into bed. Just wonders the halls. There are some nights where he find ghost walking about as well. When he does find ghost out he doesn't always go wonder with him, sometimes he's not up for it, or he can tell ghost isn't.

He's found that during thses fits of sleeplessness he can sleep just about anywhere except for his bed. When he really desperately needs sleep he'll go sleep on the couch in the common area. But there's only so many times one can do that before people start to get suspicious.

There are some nights where his muscles and bones feel like jelly and he can't bring himself to get off the floor where he sat down. There are others where he's too hyped up on energy.

He's lost count of the number foof times he's deep cleaned the kitchen while everyone was sleeping. Or the nights where he wakes up on his floor with a crick in his neck. He's lost count of the number of times he's accidentally gone days without sleep just because his body won't let him.

I bet ghost gets suspicious about this sometimes but never has any substantial evidence to bring it up. And he knows that if he does bring it up without evidence soap will just brush it off, or redirect it towards ghost.

Ghost worries but it doesn't happen consistently so he can't actually bring it up. And soap it good a hiding his sluggishness, good a forcing his energy outward, good at putting up the smiling mask. The only reason ghost knows about it is because he's caught soap out enough times while out and about due to his own insomnia.

He watches the bags under his eyes deepen, and his hair becoms slightly unkempt. that's one of the most worrying things. For as long as he's know him, soap has always taken amazing care of himself and his hair. And then there will sometimes be months on end where the bags under his eyes look like they could reach the deepest depths of hell, and his hair gets just slightly too long and wild. Or sometimes it keeps getting cut shorter, as days pass, perhaps on restless nights when there is nothing else to do.

But again soap still acts completely normal so he can't bring it up. So he doesn't, just watches, keeps an eye on him.

Sometimes on nights where both soap and ghost are up and wandering the halls but don't interact, soap will draw. And when ghost goes back to bed soap will stay out. Continue drawing. On those nights ghost often wakes to a haphazard pile of drawings slipped under his door. He doesn't know when it started happening but he appreciates it.

#this got way off track but it fine #el rambles #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghostsoap #soapghost #insomia

89 notes · View notes

readyforthegarden · 3 months

Text

Breakable Heaven - Part Eight

Pairing: Danny Wagner x Female Reader

Synopsis: Being the maid of honor in your best friends wedding is already stressful enough without the best man being the ex-boyfriend who tore your heart to shreds. Stumbling across a dating app with dates for hire, you take a chance, inviting a perfect stranger to pretend to be your boyfriend for the weeklong celebrations. But how long can the charade last when the champagne starts pouring and feelings start growing?

Warnings: drinking, swearing, arguing 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

AN: I just want to say a big big big thank you to everyone who read this fic!! Thank you for the comments and tags, asks and reblogs and sometimes direct messages about it!! It means the world to me that so many people enjoyed it. This has been one of the most fun fics I've had the pleasure of writing, and I'm so happy it's resonated with others!! And an especially big thank you to @joshsindigostreak and @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine for workshopping this with me months and months ago and hyping me up to write it, and helping me work through blocks and double checking my writing to make sure it makes sense. I love you both so SO much!!!! I'll be taking a little break from writing just to let the cup refill but I'll be back soon, I have a few projects in the works, so keep an eye out!!

P.S. stay tuned for the epilogue next wednesday!!

WC: 4455

You had come to bed only a short while after Danny had, quietly tucking yourself in next to him and pressing a chaste kiss to his shoulder before falling asleep. When you woke up, Danny was already gone from the room. You figured he was nervous to stand up in front of a new bunch of strangers and pretend he was a close friend of the groom. You gathered your things and made your way to the bridal suite, eager to start getting ready for the big day.

Entering Olivia’s room, you saw her sitting on the small loveseat, cooling eye patches resting above her cheeks as she sipped on a cup of tea. Her eyes met yours, and you rushed to sit beside her, seeing the tears shining in them.

“Hey, hey what’s wrong?” you gently took the teacup out of her hands, placing it on the table before taking her hands in yours. “Are you getting cold feet? Say the word, I can have us out of here in ten minutes.” Olivia shook her head, sniffling.

“No, no it’s not that.” she sighed. “I just was thinking how I never thought this day would happen.” she broke out into a smile. “How lucky I am to have family and friends here supporting us. How lucky I am to have you, especially.”

“Liv,”

“No, you have been the sister I’ve always wanted, that I begged my parents for when I was a kid and a lonely only child.” Olivia laughed. “I’m so happy that you’re going to be standing beside me through this.”

“Oh Liv,” you began to feel tears prick your own eyes. Letting go of her hands, you threw your arms around her, hugging your best friend so tightly. “I wouldn’t dare be anywhere else.” Olivia returned the hug, sniffling into your hair as the two of you embraced.

“Who knows, maybe in a few years, I’ll get to return the favor at your and Danny’s wedding.” she giggled, causing you to bite your lip to hold back a grin as you pulled back.

“It’s way too soon to think about that,” you laughed softly, looking down at your lap. To be honest, you had briefly entertained the thought. You blamed it on the festivities, but when you had been in the bath, listening to love songs, you couldn’t help but picture dancing with Danny at the reception to them, and then your bridesmaid dress slowly turned into a wedding dress. He held you the way he did in the ballroom, up on the stage, whispering sweet sentiments to you as you shared a first dance in front of family and friends.

Olivia watched your face and leaned in, nudging your shoulder with hers.

“When you know, you know.” she replied, a knowing tone in her voice. She reached out, touching the sapphire pendant you still wore.

“Oh god, I forgot to take this off.” you reached up to take the necklace off, but Olivia stopped you.

“No, keep it on today.” she instructed. “You’ll be my something blue.”

“It doesn’t go with my dress, Liv.” you protested softly, waiting for her to agree. Instead she took the small sapphire in her palm, smiling down at it. She glanced back up at you, a look in her eyes you couldn’t quite place.

“It goes with you.” she responded, letting the pendant drop back to your chest. “Besides, I’m the bride. You have to do what I say.” Rolling your eyes you were interrupted from replying by the suite door opening and the rest of the bridesmaids spilling in, garment bags in hand, chattering excitedly. The makeup artists and hairstylists bustling in after them, beginning to set up for the long morning ahead.

Downstairs, in a room less buzzing, Danny sat with the groomsmen, watching the random soccer match that was on the television. Most of the morning was just hanging out for them, no primping and preening to go through. Danny almost felt out of place, usually his getting ready took a bit, making sure his stage outfit was right, getting some makeup put on his eyes, some rhinestones. He felt like he was going to be woefully unprepared. His legs crossed, his foot jiggled anxiously on his knee as he toyed with the phone in his hand.

He had booked a plane ticket early in the morning, while laying next to your sleeping body. The blue hour light seeping in behind the gauzy curtains on the window made you look almost angelic as you slept, your nose wrinkling while you dreamed. Danny hurt himself then, thinking of how he would wake up this early every morning if it meant watching you look so peaceful. But it wasn’t meant for him to do, you apparently still had feelings for Gavin, and the bastard probably wouldn’t even admire you that way.

That’s what prompted him to grab his phone off the nightstand and book the flight home that evening. He thought about an earlier ticket, but if anything, Danny was a man of his word, and he couldn’t let Olivia and Mike down. He’d stay for the wedding, make it to the beginning of the reception, and then once he wouldn’t be missed, he could slip away and call a ride. He still hadn’t talked to Sam. Every time he thought about telling his best friend what happened, his stomach twisted. How could he confess to being so naive? And Sam had cheered him on it? The call to Sam would have to wait. At least until the airport before he boarded. Or maybe until tomorrow, after he took a cab home instead and wallowed in misery.

This. This is exactly why Danny stopped dating seriously. The heartbreak was too much for him sometimes.

“Are you okay?” Mike rested a hand on Danny’s shoulder. “You look like you’re the one about to walk down the aisle.” the man nodded towards Danny’s bouncing foot, and Danny forced a smile.

“I’m okay,” Danny nodded. “I’m just still not feeling super great.” Mike withdrew his hand from Danny quickly with a grimace.

“Okay well, I think Thomas has some Emergen-C or something, let’s get you some of that, and then just chill out for a while, and try not to get me sick before my honeymoon.” Danny chuckled slightly.

“I’ll stay back, I promise.” and Danny did just that. He took the vitamin C drink mix from Thomas, and excused himself to go back to his room. He knew you’d be in the bridal suite all if not most of the day, so he took this opportunity to sip on the drink while packing his suitcase, making sure nothing was left behind. One of his sweaters was missing, and he searched all over his side of the room and the bathroom for it. He had almost given up, when he saw it peeking out of the closet on your side, the cream and black design beckoning him over.

Taking it off the hanger, he held the soft material in his hands, smelling your lingering lavender and the scents of your perfume mixed with the faint hint of the bonfire from the campout. Memories of that trip started to spring up in his mind, and he quickly shut them down. He couldn’t think of weaving your braids out of your hair, or you sitting on his lap and drinking from his beer. He needed to build up that wall again, to keep himself protected.

“Wait until Danny sees you,” Olivia hummed as she watched the makeup artist put the final touches on your face. She had already been glammed up, her hair perfectly curled and cascading down her back. “He’s gonna fall over.”

“He’s probably too nervous about tripping or falling down the aisle.” you laughed, trying not to move too much. “I’m sure he’ll think it’s lovely after I’ve danced and sweat a bunch of it off.”

“If you sweat through this powder and setting spray, I’ll eat my hat,” the makeup artist joked. “And if that man doesn’t immediately say how gorgeous you look, I’ll come back and kick him in the shins.”

“You know what? Deal.” you giggled. You were antsy, you hadn’t seen Danny in action since dinner and all you wanted to do was wrap your arms around him and tell him everything that happened in the hallway. As you switched spots with Mila, taking her place in the chair in front of the hair stylist while she took yours at the makeup station.

The bridesmaids were simple, a low chignon bun at the nape of your necks, softly curled tendrils framing your faces. The makeup was natural, a small iridescent shimmer across your lids to stand out, and a mauve lip to complement the deep olive green of your dresses. Olivia’s vision was stunning, and was coming together perfectly.

You couldn’t wait to see Danny, his tan skin in the suit and matching green tie and pocket square. As one of the photographers traipsed around the room, snapping candid shots of the getting ready, you hoped that there would be some good pictures from the day and reception of you and him together, something to look back on from this moment in your relationship.

Danny stood in a lineup of the groomsmen, his tie being fixed by Thomas before the young man stepped back into line himself, and they all stood together, arms around each other's shoulders, grinning for the camera. Danny found himself relieved that his profession had taught him to fake a smile in front of a camera. Though it wasn’t hard to be happy for Mike and share in his excitement to marry Olivia. The two were contagious in their happiness.

After a few more photo ops, it was time to head out to line up for the procession. Danny felt sick, nervous at the thought of seeing you, he could already hear your excited laugh out in the hallway as the wedding planner made sure Olivia was tucked out of sight of Mike. It was like the twist of a knife in his back.

As the groomsmen filtered out of their room, you eagerly searched for Danny, seeing his curls a few inches above everyone else. Rushing over, you grinned up at him.

“You look handsome as ever,” you smiled. Danny glanced down at you, giving you a tightlipped smile. Your face fell slightly, placing a hand on his arm. “Are you okay?” Danny took a deep breath.

“My stomach is just a little upset.” you nodded sympathetically.

“I can run back to the bridal suite real fast, I think I have some antacids in my emergency bag.”

“No, it’s okay.” Danny shook his head. He folded his hands at his front as music started, signaling the beginning of the processional. “I think you need to go take your place with Thomas.”

“Oh, okay.” you replied softly, feeling a bit hurt at how he brushed you off. You chalked it up to nerves again. “I’ll see you after the ceremony.” Danny just nodded, staring straight ahead as you moved away to the back of the line, where Thomas waited, crooked elbow ready to escort you.

“Everything good?” he asked, seeing you looking a bit crestfallen.

“Yeah, just anxious to get going.” you answered, taking your bouquet from the planner. You saw Olivia leave her hiding spot, as Mike had already walked down the aisle, and stand with her dad behind you and Thomas. Watching their moment together made you teary eyed and you turned around quickly, refusing to cry already. “And that’s going to make me sob.”

“You and me both,” Thomas sniffled, wiping a tear from his eye.

The wedding went off without a hitch, the ceremony as beautiful as it could ever be. Your eyes kept dragging away from Olivia and Mike to Danny, who seemed to be doing everything he could to avoid your gaze, only catching your eyes a few times before diverting them away. He did the same during photos in the courtyard, the vineyard and around the gazebo in the front of the estate. You hadn’t seen this side of Danny before, and it was beginning to perturb you.

Danny slipped away just after dinner, excusing himself to the restroom after the speeches and just as the dance floor started to fill up. He made it back to the room, grabbing his suitcase and doing one last scan of the room before he stopped. Something told him to double check the drawer of his nightstand, and when he did, he found the caramel apple suckers he had bought a few days before. The ones that you told him in a tipsy lilt matched his eyes. Danny sniffled, taking the handful of candy and tossing it onto the bed, feeling angry at the whole situation. Taking the pad of paper out of the nightstand, he wrote a quick note to you, ripping it haphazardly off and tossing it with the candy.

As he left the room, he glanced back, vowing to leave the memories of what happened between you exactly in this place.

“Hey, have you seen Danny?” you were pacing through the dance floor, trying to find your date. Everyone you asked shook their heads, and you began to grow frustrated. What was with him today? The wedding was over, he didn’t have to be so anxious anymore. He should be here with you, relaxing and drinking tequila to celebrate the week was over.

You left the reception hall, going upstairs to see if he was back in your room. Maybe he was lying down with his stomach ache. When you entered the room, it was dark. Tiptoeing to the bedroom, you didn’t see anyone in bed. You flipped on the overhead light, looking around confusedly. Danny’s side of the room was spotless, as if he’d never been there. Suitcase gone. You walked towards the bed, seeing the bright green wrappers of the suckers and picking one up, remembering what you had said to him and smiling softly, before noticing the piece of paper.

‘I hope you have a wonderful life with Gavin. I’m sorry I wasn’t enough for you. - Danny’

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you turned, rushing out of the room as fast as possible. You tripped over the hem of your dress and on the stairs as your chest heaved with sobs you couldn’t quite let out as you ran. You entered the reception hall, a brief moment of insanity as you thought maybe it was a cruel joke, that he was playing with you and ready to party on the dance floor. But he wasn’t to be found. As you searched, Olivia caught your eyes from the edge of the dance floor, halting her movements and rushing over, Mike hot on her heels.

“Hey, hey what’s going on?” she asked, leaning in. “You look like someone kicked a puppy in front of you.” you stared at her, feeling every emotion from the week bubble up in your chest, before they started spilling out of you.

“Liv, I’m sorry,” you started crying. “I’m so, so sorry. I’ve lied to you this whole week. Danny isn’t my boyfriend, I met him on an app and I hired him to pretend so I didn’t have to face this alone. He’s not my real boyfriend, but maybe now he is, everything is so fucked up I don’t know.” Olivia watched you crumble, reaching out to you and calling your name but you kept spilling your secret in front of her and Mike. “But now, now I’m pretty sure he’s the love of my life and he’s gone because of fucking Gavin!”

Olivia finally got a hold of you, stopping your rant and clasping your hand in hers, giving you a knowing look.

“I’ve known.” she shook her head. “There was no way you’d keep a man that fine and that amazing a secret. I knew if you were going to these lengths to keep from feeling awkward and alone this week, that it was just best to let you go and we’d talk about it later. But I got to watch as you and Danny fell in love with each other the whole time.” you sniffled, using the back of your clasped hand to wipe tears from your cheek.

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have lied.” you shook your head. Olivia just smiled and pulled you in for a hug.

“You’re easy to forgive.” she murmured. “Now, what happened with Danny and Gavin?” you took the crumpled note in your other hand, unfolding it and showing it to her. Mike peeked over Olivia’s shoulder, reading Danny’s scrawled message.

“I didn’t want to start any trouble, so I didn’t say anything,” you took a shaky breath, trying to calm your tears. “But Gavin was still here last night, and grabbed me on the way to get the glue. He tried to kiss me in the hallway and begged for me back, but I slapped him.”

“Finally!” Olivia looked excited, then glanced back to the note, her smile falling. “Oh no, Danny,”

“I didn’t know until I saw that. I didn’t get a chance to talk to him.” your tears started up again. “And now he’s gone and I just…” you felt lost, the idea of a future without Danny too much to bear.

“I’ll get my keys.” Mike looked at you. “We’re going to find him.”

“What if he won’t talk to me?”

“If he won’t talk, then he’ll listen.” Olivia crumpled up the note in her hand. She grabbed yours again and started pulling you behind her, heading for the doors.

“Liv, you guys can’t leave!” you protested.

“It’s my wedding, I can do whatever I damn well please!” Olivia called over her shoulder. The two of you waited in the lobby anxiously while Mike ran up to their room to get the keys for his car. Every second felt like hours dragging on, and finally your impatience won out.

“I have to go, I can’t wait,” you let go of Olivia’s hand, gathering your skirt in your hand and running to the doors and down the steps. Danny could already have been at the airport, and running wouldn’t help get you to him any sooner, but your body needed to move. You could hear Olivia shouting at you to wait as you ran the best you could in your heels on the gravel drive. The warm lights strung up in all the trees illuminated the world around you in a soft glow, but you couldn’t stop and take in the beauty, all your legs could do was run.

The wind was cold against your tear streaked face, and you could feel your hair falling out of its low bun. Nothing mattered, nothing mattered at all until you could talk to Danny, sort out what happened, and tell him how you felt.

You’d made it down most of the driveway, coming to the gazebo where you’d all taken photos earlier that day. It was covered in lights, lit up and caught your attention in the dark of the property. You glanced toward it briefly, and ended up doing a double take. A tall figure was pacing inside it, causing you to come to a stop. You’d recognize that mop of curls anywhere.

Your heart beat out of your chest, body now feeling like it was wading through sludge as you made your way over. Danny hadn’t noticed you yet, preoccupied with his phone. It wasn’t until you took the first step in your heel up on the wooden gazebo that he turned, almost jumping before he turned his face stoic, almost glaring at you. He was still in his suit from the wedding, his suitcase waiting next to him, presumably for a ride.

“Danny,” you breathed. Your entire body felt like it was trembling. Terrified at the idea that he wouldn’t listen, that this man you’d grown to love in such a short time would hate you for the rest of your lives over a misunderstanding.

“Save it,” Danny shook his head. “I don’t need to hear it.”

“I just want to tell you-”

“I said I don’t need to hear it!” Danny moved away from you, causing the tears to well up in your eyes as he regarded you so harshly. “I hope you and Gavin have a wonderful, happy life together. Really, I mean it.”

“I’m not with Gavin!” you stomped your foot, feeling like a petulant child as you glowered up at Danny. Danny stared at you incredulously, stuffing his phone in his pocket and folding his arms over his chest.

“It didn’t look like that last night.” he shot back, clenching his jaw.

“Gavin was drunk and he grabbed me in the hallway. He begged for me to come back and tried to kiss me, and I slapped him.” you defended yourself, hands shaking as you started to lay out your heart to him.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Danny asked.

“You didn’t give me the chance! Danny I don’t want Gavin, I don’t want anyone else but you.”

Danny swallowed roughly as his face softened and tears once again spilled down your cheeks. “Danny, I am so in love with you.”

It felt like it happened in slow motion, as Danny’s long legs closed the gap between the both of you and took your face in his hands, bringing your lips to his in a searing kiss. Your hands grabbed at his suit jacket, clutching the material for dear life as you felt your heart explode in your chest. His fingers tangled in your hair, causing what was left of the chignon bun at the nape of your neck to fall down into loose waves. When he pulled away, you opened your eyes, looking into his hazel ones that were shining and glimmering.

“I fell in love with you the day we met,” Danny breathed against your lips. “I am so fucking in love with you, Honey.” he had tears in his eyes now, and you felt less silly as your lips broke out into a grin. Before you could help yourself, you let go of Danny’s suit jacket and tossed your arms around his neck, hopping up on your tiptoes and kissing him again as his hands found a home on your waist, pulling you into his body. The two of you reveled in your embrace and newly proclaimed feelings, feeling that insatiable urge from a few days before, but in a different way now. You didn’t want to go anywhere if Danny wasn’t going to be there too.

Hearing gravel fly, you broke away from Danny, seeing Mike’s car skid to a halt in the middle of the driveway. You lifted up a hand as Olivia got out of the car, beginning to bolt towards you. She paused, watching you and Danny carefully before Danny leaned down and placed another kiss to your lips.

“I don’t know about you,” Olivia turned around, looking at Mike who was leaning on his arms on the roof of his car, watching with her. He looked at his new wife with a smile as Danny and you embraced in front of them. “But I hear wedding bells when I look at them.”

“I do too,” Mike agreed with a grin. They gave you both a few more moments before beckoning you over. “Sorry to interrupt, but we have a reception to attend, and some cake to eat.” Danny held the back door to the car open for you, helping you in and closing the door for you before jogging around and getting in next to you, leaning in and kissing your cheek as he got comfortable.

“I brought this,” Olivia handed you your makeup bag, and you thanked her profusely. “Mike, watch the bumps, and go slow.” you touched up your makeup on the short ride back to the winery in the glow of a light up compact. Danny assisting and helping you put your eyeliner on, his hands a bit more steady than yours.

Olivia and Mike were able to walk back into the reception, wolf whistles and smirks shot their way, which Olivia ate up. No one noticed you and Danny sliding back in a few moments later, or the grass stains on the hem of your dress, or the current state of your hair. You’d thought Danny would want to sit down, hash things out more, or at least eat that promised piece of cake, but instead he took your hand and pulled you out to the dance floor.

Wrapping his arms around your waist, your bodies were flush to one another as Danny swayed you both, looking down at you like he’d never seen anything so amazing in his life. One of his hands left your waist and cupped your cheek, his thumb swiping the apple of it gently.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured. “I shouldn’t have been so stupid.” shaking your head, you turned slightly, pressing your lips to the pad of his thumb before looking up at him.

“It’s okay,” you gave him a soft smile. “It’s okay, we have a long flight back tomorrow so that we can talk everything out. For right now, I just want to be in your arms and enjoy the last of this little bubble we’re in.” Danny nodded with a small smile, tucking you in impossibly closer.

As he rested his chin on top of your head, you realized you didn’t need to worry about your future with him. Your ear on his chest, you could hear his strong heartbeat in a steady rhythm, and you knew you would follow that beat anywhere.

“What do you think, about stealing some cake, taking it up to our room, and eating it in bed in our pjs?” Danny murmured in your ear a little while later. Olivia and Mike had made their official departure to get some rest for the honeymoon and the party was starting to die down. Smiling up at him, you pressed a kiss to his lips quickly.

“Sounds like the best idea you’ve ever had.”

“No, the best idea was agreeing to be some girls date to her friends wedding.” Danny laughed as he led you to the cake table, grabbing a plate and handing it to you before finding a few other little desserts and piling them on the plates.

“Mm, sounds like that was the best thing to ever happen to you,” you mused softly, watching his eyes glitter as he winked at you.

“Oh Honey, you have no idea.”

Taglist: (feel free to add yourself!)

@joshsindigostreak @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine @ascendingtostardust @sammysprincess @sammykiszkamyass @belovedsamuel @sunfl0wer-power @indigo-starcatcher @sammyscherub @earthlysorrows @allieisacrybaby @losfacedevil @xserenax-13 @sarakay-gvf @shutupdevvie @myownparadise96 @watchingovergvff @gretavanfleetposts @josiee-gvf @joshkiszkatoothgap @madneedshelp @gardensgatedaisy @demonrat444 @dannyandthekiszkas @tearsofbri @paleshadow-ofadragon @happy-harpy-stuff @like-a-woman-in-a-dream @starshine-wagner @objectsinspvce @josh-iamyour-mama @mountain-in-springtime @cal-a-bungaa @capturethechaos @gvfpal

@allybjt @hippievanfleet @weightofbrokenbells @joshkiszkasbadussy @malany-gvf @ruby0antlers @samofthedawn @sacredjake @aim4thedoublee @diditallforyouu @gvfmarge @highladyofasgard @sammysvanfeet @gold-mines-melting @earthgrlsreasy @mountain-in-springtime @forcebond301 @stardust-and-shadows @llightmyllovee @gretavangroupie @comesofarsomehow @infinisonicosm @indigofallingsky @hellowgoodbye @hearts-hunger @fwzco @dharma-divine33 @lightsofthe-living-gvf @ascendingtothestarsasone @klarxtr @ofthecaravel @musicspeaks @radmads-gvf @the-starcatcher @shineforever19 @earthgrlsreasy @demonrat444 @misshunnybee @valleydollgvf @brookes-so-done @age0fwagner @amethystars @mindastreamofcolours @peaceloveunitygvf @gvfsstardust @imleavingyoufornewyork

#danny wagner #danny wagner x reader #greta van fleet #josh kiszka #jake kiszka #sam kiszka #breakable heaven fic #danny gvf #danny wagner fanfiction

37 notes · View notes

ghoul-bonez · 11 months

Text

~No More Worrying~

(Neytiri x Fem! Reader)

Summary: Neytiri has been by your side as far back as you can remember, and you have always been so enamored by her, giving her all the love you possess, but loving her without her loving you back was starting to ware you down.

Word count: 2.4k

Author’s note: Some sweet moments of you growing up with Neytiri :) Prequel of “Let Eventually Be Today”, but can definitely be read as a oneshot! Also only 1/2 edited because I’m lazy 🥰

~Series Masterlist~

~Main Masterlist~

No More Worrying

You had known Neytiri your whole life, and wouldn’t have it any other way. She had always been by your side through the good and the bad, the pretty and the ugly. She was something so special, and you would never be able to explain why, but you could feel the positive energy flowing through her like she had been graced by Eywa. You would give her all of your love until the day you die, but sometimes when you think about her not loving you back all it brings you is pain.

Your mothers had always been close, Mo’at as the Tsahik, and your mother being her right hand woman, the head healer under her, which meant you and Neytiri were close from the moment you were born. Moat had announced her pregnancy, and soon after your mother had gone to her with worries for her health, to which Mo’at proudly told her they were both with child.

Neytiri had been born strong and ready for the world, then three days later you had come into the world, tiny and weak. Your mother feared for your wellbeing, but Mo’at had been insistent that you were just as strong as Neytiri, just inside, and soon enough you would be just as strong physically as well.

Your mother would hold you close to her as she healed the people of the clan, and soon enough the whole clan knew and loved you. You had become a staple in some of the young warriors' days, when they would come in they would smile at you who was usually giggling at your mom who worked on healing them. As time passed you grew in size, and in strength. Your mother attributed this to the love of the clan, and when you were told this as you got older you couldn’t help but agree with her.

When you began walking your mother and father were at their wits end. You were rambunctious, and never sat still, and unfortunately that wore off of Neytiri when you were together. You would run around the healing tent all day while your mothers tried to work, chasing each other and grabbing at tails. You would knock over bowls and anything you would accidently hit, which was wearing down your mother, but Mo’at loved watching you play together.

When your father would watch you and Neytiri it was always a struggle, but instead of trying to tame the wild beasts you were he would run with you, chasing you, and when he would catch you he would pick you up and throw you into the air. Neytiri would scream and giggle as she was picked up, and you would hype her up, causing her to kick and flail. When you were trapped by your father she would jump on him, trying to get him to release you before you could be tossed in the air. She would always protect you.

She would protect you physically, but also mentally. She never wanted you to feel sad or upset, so anytime you would seem down she would do anything to fix it, anything to see you smile.

Neytiri had been chasing you, you both holding your ikran toys in the air, pretending they were flying, but as you ran ahead of her you tripped, falling to the ground and dropping your toy. When you sat back up you were okay, but your toy wasn’t, the wing had snapped off. Your heart immediately sank and you felt tears welling up in your eyes, this was your favorite toy, one your father had made for you.

Neytiri saw the tears in your eyes, and quickly rushed over to you, “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

You didn’t look at her, instead keeping your eyes on your toy, “It broke.” You admitted as tears started rolling down your face.

“Oh, it’s okay.” She thought for a second, what could she do to make you feel better? Then a thought popped into her head, “Here have mine.” She held it out to you.

You sniffled, and felt your tears die down as you looked from her toy to her face, “Thank you.” You muttered, and she wiped some of the tears from your face.

Once again she had saved the day, and you couldn’t help but think about how she would always make things better. You wanted to do that for her as well, so as you held her ikran toy close to you later that night as you explained to your parents why you had hers instead of yours, you promised to always be her light like she was yours.

You couldn’t help but look at what was once Neytiri’s ikran toy, now yours, as you sat in front of Neytiri waiting for her to paint your face in tradition to pass your Iknimaya. Usually it would be your mentor that would paint your face, but you and Neytiri had decided to do it yourselves.

As she painted a “V” shape on your forehead you couldn’t help but smile at her, her touch bringing you a sense of calm you desperately needed right now. You had no doubt she would pass, no doubt she would have the fastest time, no doubt she would get the prettiest biggest ikran. You did have doubts about yourself though. You weren’t a fighter, weren’t a warrior. You had never been the strongest or the fastest, instead you focused your energy on healing with your mother and Mo’at.

Then it was your turn to paint her. Your hands were shaky as you traced the same pattern on her forehead that was already on yours. You tried your best to keep your hands steady, and she could see your struggle, your worries, so when you were done she took your hands in hers, ignoring the paint on both of your fingers, and held them tightly. She would never know, but that helped more than anything you could have thought up to relieve your anxiety.

The whole trip to the ikran rookery you were trying to keep calm, taking deep breaths and shaking off your nerves. Your footing on the rocks and vines of the Hallelujah Mountains was unsteady, but not enough to make you fall, and you were grateful for your reflexes not failing you.

Eytukan was the one overseeing the process today, watching his daughter who he had been training for this for years now. He had given you some training too, but you were never keen on learning to fight and hunt.

He seemed to sense your anxious energy, your hopes to get this over with, “(Y/n) why don’t you go first?”

You looked at him with wide eyes, you wanted to be done with this, but you didn’t want to go first, but you couldn’t say no to the Olo’eyktan, no matter how well you knew him, no matter how close you were with his daughter, “Okay.” You muttered.

Taking a deep breath you approached the rookery, crouching down and hissing at the creatures all around you. Most scattered, shrieking as they flew off, but one remained, a smaller green one with purple patterns across its back and wings. It was beautiful, and you were grateful it wasn’t as big as some of the others.

It hissed back at you and you knew it was go time. You ran at the creature and threw the yìmkxa around its mouth, binding it shut tightly. You jumped on its back and the creature paused momentarily, and for a second you thought it would be easy. Then the creature threw its head back and you almost slid off it’s back.

As you wrestled the creature Neytiri stood in the background watching, shouting and giving you words of praise. You had always been a lover, not a fighter, but as Neytiri watched you wrestle with your ikran she had no thoughts that you would fail. She wasn’t worried for you at all, having no question you would pass, and watching you restrain the ikran under you made her more proud of you than ever before. When she saw you grab the ikran’s queue and connect your own to it, making tsaheylu, she shouted even louder than before.

When you made tsaheylu everything around you stopped, your eyes blowing wide, overwhelming feelings passing over you, but once that was over you felt calm. Neytiri ran up to you, telling you to go fly and come back to watch her when you were done.

So you did. Flying was a wonderful feeling, more exhilarating than anything you had ever felt before. You couldn’t wait to fly with Neytiri, to race her, and tease her as you almost bumped into her. You couldn’t wait to watch her claim hers, so after you felt content with your flight you turned around back towards the rookery.

When you landed you quickly disconnected from your ikran and ran up to Neytiri who was waiting for you to return to take her turn. She pulled you into a hug and you could feel how proud of you she was through the way she was holding you. You couldn’t help but feel proud of yourself as well.

Once the person in front of Neytiri was done and off on his first flight she stepped up, ready to take on this fight. You were anxious. You knew she had this, knew she would be just fine, but you couldn’t help but worry about every little possible mishap. What ifs circled in your mind. You loved her so much you couldn’t even bear to think of anything bad happening to her, to think about your life without her.

When she challenged the ikrans and hers stepped forwards she smiled wildly. She was excited, you could tell. You were excited for her too, and pushed your anxieties away as you cheered her on from where you were standing next to your ikran who had decided to stick around.

Once she was done you had been able to let out a sigh of relief, and as you had predicted, Neytiri had the fastest time out of everyone completing their Iknimaya. She also probably had the most fun too, which you loved watching.

Soon after she had connected to her ikran you had taken off in flight together. Flying by yourself for the first time was a thrill, but flying with Neytiri was something completely new. You felt love swell in your heart as you watched her throw her hands up and holler. You followed in her footsteps and let go, holding your arms out and feeling as they cut through the air.

You couldn’t fly forever though, and eventually it was time to land. When you reached the ground and slid off of your ikran your body was sore. You quickly sat down on the grass beneath you and let your body relax for the first time all day.

Neytiri giggled and sat next to you, pulling you close. You laid back with your head on her lap, and she ran her fingers through your braids as you smiled at each other. You felt so full of emotions, happyness, excitement, and love. You were happy you had successfully completed your Iknimaya, and because Neytiri was so close to you. You were excited because this meant you were one step closer to completing your rights. You felt love as Neytiri held you close.

You didn’t need her to say anything for you to know she was proud of you, but she spoke anyway, “You did great today. I’m very proud of you.”

You smiled at her, “Thank you. I’m proud of you too. You had the fastest time, and it was so cool watching you!” You complimented her.

You felt your love for her swell, and you couldn’t do anything to stop yourself as you reached up and cupped her face in your hand. She sighed contently and you felt her relax under your touch. Her muscles were relaxed, but a smile was still on her face. Her skin was soft under your fingertips, and you could feel the warmth of her face radiating onto your hand. Your face was warm like hers, but for a different reason as a blush had spread across your cheeks.

You had always loved her, more than anything else. She was your best friend, always there for you, to support you and protect you. She was your sun, the thing that brought you life. She was your light, the thing that kept you going through any darkness that fell.

You love her, but you couldn’t risk losing her, so you never told her in fear of her not feeling the same. However in that moment you could feel the love flowing through both of you, not just you to her, but her to you as well. You could see her. You could feel how she appreciated you for all you are, how she loves you with her whole heart and soul, and you felt exactly the same.

You took in a deep breath, closing your eyes so you didn’t have to watch her, “I love you. I see you.” You confessed to her.

She didn’t respond verbally, instead she placed a hand on your cheek and kissed you gently on the lips. That was all you needed, you didn’t need to hear her say “I love you” back, you needed to feel it. It was like shooting stars were flying around in your stomach as your heart beat doubled, becoming faster.

“I see you too. I love you too.” She spoke close to you, and you could feel her breath fanning across your face. You sat up, facing her, and pulled her into another kiss, this time deeper, and when you pulled away you couldn’t help but giggle.

You laid down again, pulling her down with you. She rolled halfway onto you, and you shoved her off of you, struggling to get her off of you before she relented and instead just laid her head on your chest. You continued laying there together until it became dark, chatting about nothing and everything at the same time.

It was peaceful, and you could feel the love radiating off of you. There was no more worrying about whether she loved you anymore. You could be together forever now, and you couldn’t wait for tomorrow when you would start the rest of your life with her by your side.

Word Bank:

Tsahik (Spiritual leader)

Ikran (Mountain Banshee)

Iknimaya (Omatikaya rite of passage, claiming an ikran)

Olo’eyktan (Clan leader)

Yìmkxa (Mouth binder, Iknimaya ikran mouth tie)

Queue (Na’vi’s braid, connection)

Tsaheylu (The Bond)

@im-in-a-pansexual-panik - @ducks118 - @ssc7514 - @sully-stick-together - @gg-trini

#fanfic #fanfiction #avatar fanfiction #avatar the way of water #avatar movie #atwow #atwow fanfiction #atwow fics #avatar 2009 #neytiri #neytiri x reader #neytiri x you #neytiri x y/n

120 notes · View notes

barkrry · 1 year

Text

athazagoraphobia - h. styles x 1dbandmember!yn masterlist

Of course she was the last one to go solo. The last one to bring out an album, the last one to showcase her own talents without the band. Part of her felt like it had all been a gift, one that she didn’t deserve at all. One that had been snatched away when she stopped cherishing it enough. And that is what happened. One Direction had gone on hiatus, and the rest of the boys had gone on to succeed. But there was always one question always mentioned whenever one of the boys succeeded.

Where was YN?

After hiatus started, the five remaining members had all promised to keep in contact on the group chat. They’d all support each other through everything. But then solo contracts were being signed, tabloids were spilling the latest details of upcoming albums. They were all getting their own versions of success.

All except YN.

The second hiatus started, YN had gone silent on social media. Her last post being one about the band. There will never be a day where I don’t think about the barriers we broke. You’ll always be my home. Goodbye isn’t forever. It had been her most liked post on all of her socials. And it was evidently clear to her when the first story broke about one of the boys signing a solo contract, that she was alone with that statement.

YN got to watch as each of her best friends, her brothers, her lover, started to succeed on their own. The group chat had been silent for a while now. Yet there wasn’t a day that went by where she didn’t check it, to see if anyone was typing. And somehow, there never was. It was like the history of them, of the band had been forgotten by the other members.

It took her too long to channel that sadness, anger and sorrow into something productive. Two years of silence, two years of zero movement from YN YLN. And she was going to break the internet.

liked by louist91, hannahtownsend, zayn and 7,329,456 others

yourinstagram forgotten. coming soon.

view all 4,238,554 comments

ynfan1 OMG SHE MOVED SHE ACTUALLY MOVED

1dfan nobody panic-- NOBODY FUCKING PANIC

niallhoran can’t wait!!

She had signed a contract and fully produced a whole album, without tabloids, fans or anyone catching a whiff of it. It felt extraordinary to her, there was relief in her bones. Her brain felt empty, a warm smile spread across her lips as she watched comment after comment flood on her post. Excitement building in each of the fans.

Tommo: aye saw your post sweetheart, excited to hear your solo stuff!

Payno: ‘bout time you joined us.

N: miss you, coffee soon. X

inZayn: I know it’s been a while, but I’m really proud of you. I can’t wait to hear the album.

Maybe she hadn’t been forgotten, maybe it wasn’t all that bad. Her phone was flooded with similar texts from industry friends, people she had met while in the band but never really spoken to again. But there was just one person missing.

Yet, she knew he wasn’t the most active on social media these days. Maybe he hadn’t seen the post. Or maybe he had blocked her and she hadn’t realised. Why would she have realised? The app hadn’t been installed in two years. She tried to not let it bother her, because it shouldn’t. They had broken up for a reason. They had agreed to be friends, but even that had been reluctant. So she shouldn’t have been surprised to not hear from him.

When her lead single, It Was Fine, was released, with the music video to match, the hype surrounding her and her album intensified. Her manager, Hannah, genuinely couldn’t believe it. They had been preparing themselves for a quiet launch, a few OG fans from the band who had stuck around, sure. But nothing of the scale that they were on.

I said it was fine, I never said it didn’t hurt.

YN felt on top of the world, her own words, her own lyrics were being repeated all around the globe. By fans who had been awaiting her return. By people who had stuck by her, though she had never made a single hint that she would be returning to music. It felt surreal to her, that she was getting such a wide amount of support. Even the boys had been singing her praises in their own interviews and social media posts. And it was only then that she got the message.

H. Styles: single was good. we should talk. meet up soon? x

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x oc #harry styles x ofc #harry styles fanfic #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #one direction imagine #one direction fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry #styles #reader #harry styles x yn #athazagoraphobia!universe

324 notes · View notes

delfiore · 1 year

Text

only make you cry

pairing: florence pugh x fem!reader

synopsis: flo isn’t ready to be in a new relationship after her last one ended by means of public scrutiny.

word count: 2.6k

a/n: hello. um, ik it’s been a while, but school and work has just been so hectic that i barely even have time to rest. i was also dealing with some things too, but alas am back. i hope y’all haven’t forgotten abt me and i’m hoping to get back into writing again soon because it’s fun and not because it’s sth i have to do. so ya, enjoy this angsty, kinda smutty but not rly fic i whipped out :3

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

She remained untouched.

By the responsibilities she had to bare as a price of only doing what she loved to do.

By the lousiness of the world waiting to gouge out any imperfections so that it may discredit her just for the sake of it.

By the mask-like cynicism she had come to develop just to survive and not get swallowed whole.

She remained untouched by you.

Yet, the desire to reach out and touch her, despite her serene appearance—face pressed into the pillow, eyes comfortably shut, lips slightly parted—was beyond any reasoning that you could muster. You simply desired her, to touch her, to feel her, the way you did merely hours before.

The sky was beginning to brighten, signaling another day. You didn’t want to leave, you only wanted to reach out and touch her, to kiss her, and tell her that you were here to stay. But you knew you couldn’t.

She stirred, finally. Florence was a quiet waker, with a sharp inhale and a purse of her lips, eyelids slowly peeling open to reveal two emerald gems, that usually start out more hazel and golden in the morning. You gave her a small smile. “Good morning”.

“What time is it?” She asked.

You hummed, reaching back toward the stand for your phone. “8:37”, you had checked ten minutes prior too.

You watched her as she willed herself to rouse, hunching over the side of the bed, like she was putting the weight of the world she left by the bed back on her shoulders. You reached over, and brushed her spine with the back of your hand. You thought you felt a split second in which she found comfort in it, but it was gone too soon when she stood up and headed for the bathroom.

You always observed Florence. You liked to admire the person that she was, watching this phenomenon of a human being do the most mundane tasks, like cooking an omelette or watering a plant. It made you feel special, being able to be in her presence made you feel phenomenal. She tended to have that effect on people, not just you. You were just lucky you got to witness it behind closed doors.

“Could you feed Billie, please?” You loved when she included you in her routines. You would give her a kiss on her jaw and a gentle caress of her hips in gratitude in passing her.

Sometimes when you’re lucky, like now, she would grab you, and kiss you deep with a sigh, her eyes lustful and sultry when they gaze into yours after.

It started a few weeks prior, the sex, and the mingling, months earlier than that. It was at an after-party you were expected to attend, that Flo also happen to be there. There was a certain glow to her, something that made her seem more mature than the last time you saw her whilst shooting Black Widow. The short brunette hair, the nose ring, it was different, but it all suited her.

“Y/N?! Christ, is that you?!”

You started hanging out again, just like you did whilst shooting the movie and a little while after that before your respective schedules pulled you apart. It was as if no time had passed.

She cooked for you the way she did, a drink on the side and occasionally dancing to music that hyped her up. Then one day, she confided in you. She told you that she and her boyfriend had broken up.

“It was a few months ago,” she said with a sad smile, “the pressure just got too much. We’re friends, though.”

“I’m sorry.” Were you an asshole for leaping on the inside? You couldn’t tell her how you felt three years ago because she was already in a relationship, especially when Zach was a good man, and she was happy too.

Then one night, she kissed you.

It was after a bottle of wine (or two), and you both were on her couch. You felt bold, and your hand ended up over her thigh, feeling the softness of her skin. Her laughter had died down, only breathy giggles now from her plump lips, her intense gaze lighting fires in the pit of your stomach. And before long, she was straddling you and desperately attempting to pull your shirt off.

“I’m going on a trip next week with some mates,” she told you, tickling the back of your neck with her arms resting around it, “come with me?”

You could never say no to her, never when she holds you like this. But alas, you were just messing around.

Ibiza was a nice change of pace from the bustling city; it was sunshine and blue sky as far as you could see during the day, then parties and drinks until the early hours in the morning.

You liked that she knew when to have fun, but not too much to let herself go. She always seemed in control. Her friends were welcoming of you, but you weren’t free of the teasing comments.

“She seems lovely,” one of her friends said, once you had left to the bar. You’d just make out what she said. “Where’d you find her?”

“We met on-set,” Flo answered.

“Good for you, mate. She’s always following you around like a lost puppy, it’s cute.”

A small laugh erupted from Florence’s chest, and you felt something churn in your stomach. You took the drinks from the bartender with a small ‘thank you’, and returned to the group.

You handed Olive her drink, then Flo hers before kissing her cheek. “Your dry martini.”

It was only after you had come back from another party that night, that you thought about it again.

“You okay?” She mumbled, peppering kisses on your bare shoulder, her hand roaming your body.

The thing was, you didn’t mind being her lost puppy. You were too devoted to care.

The media was started to catch up. Pictures of her and you during your sun-soaked holiday started to make headlines, at first because two Marvel stars were seen vacationing together. But then fans began to speculate when more handsy pictures began to surface (a failed attempt by your publicist to keep things quiet), and you suddenly felt the pressure. It was in particular the pictures of you and her splashing each other in the water that did it.

“People need to get a job, christ,” you sat by the island scrolling through Twitter on the private account you made for the sole purpose of lurking.

Florence let out a small laugh as she chopped a bell pepper in half. “Let them talk, hm? We don’t need to concern ourselves with it.”

“It’s a bit difficult to mind your business when it’s shoved in your face every time you open your phone,” you huffed through your nose, extending your foot toward where Billie had chosen to sit by your side to taunt the pup.

“It’s not like you to care about what people think. What changed?”

“I don’t know, I just don’t like people butting into my relationships, that’s all.”

“Well,” she said so casually, “we’re not exclusive or anything, so . . .”

You didn’t know what to say. Billie seemed to have picked up on the awkwardness too, and trotted away to find her bed for a nap.

“Y/N,” she said, but you didn’t look up, “you know we’re just messing about, right?”

“Of course,” you said, shrugging, “it’s what we agreed upon the first time. What? You think I’m in love with you or something?”

“You better not be,” she laughed as you made your laugh over to her side.

“Why not?” You mirrored her laugh, and snaked your arms around her waist.

“‘Cause it’ll complicate everything,” Flo said lowly, “and I don’t like things to be complicated.”

“Alright,” you nodded, taking her chin in your fingers. “Well, I’m not, so.” You pecked her lips.

You didn’t know you could feel the kind of isolation like what you felt when Flo went away. She had gone back to England to be with her family, leaving you all alone in this god-awful town, in Los Angeles, the city of liars and pretenders. You thought you might have become one too.

It was easier said than done, and you thought you could do it. You thought you could be content with just being a fuck, but it was never that easy. You stopped seeing anyone properly ever since you started knowing Flo, and that was three years ago. You knew it was a futile effort to wait, but you waited anyway.

“My nan just gave me this amazing apple pie recipe. I’m gonna make it when I get back,” you let her ramble on FaceTime as you attempted to do work on your laptop.

“Y/N.”

“Hm?”

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Your nan’s pie recipe,” you replied, turning towards the camera, “can’t wait to try it.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” your voice was started to growing harsher, “‘s fine.”

“Doesn’t sound like it,” she said, “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you said firmly, “please leave it alone, Flo.”

You didn’t like the way you sounded. You were so harsh to her. A quick glance towards the screen told you she was taken aback by your response, maybe a little hurt too. It was a mistake.

“I have to go, got some work to do,” you sighed, swallowing the lump in your throat, “I’ll call you later.”

“Okay,” Flo said, so quietly you almost didn’t catch it. You ended the call before you or her could say anything else.

You sunk back into your chair, and finally let the tears flow and you held your face in your palms.

Hours later, you were clutching your phone, staring at the screen showing your messages with her, trying so hard to say something, anything. The silence was brutal, but it was one you caused yourself. You didn’t want to bother her, but you couldn’t stand it any longer.

Please don’t be upset with me, I was an asshole.

I can’t stop thinking about you all the fucking time.

I think I have feelings for you.

Sorry about earlier. Work is stressing me out.

Mere minutes later, you received a photo message as a response. Your breath gets caught in your throat when you opened it to see what it was. “For your troubles ,” it read, and it was a picture of her in her underwear in bed.

You leaned back and exhaled a heavy breath, as your hand slowly crept down your body underneath your pants.

But it wasn’t the same. You needed her with you, under you, above you, close to you. You wanted to hold her as you came, as you have been lately, hoping she would feel the affection in return.

You counted down the days that you would be meeting her in New York. She had to do press there for a couple of days, and you agreed to spend some time with each other before she returned to the UK for more press. Your manager wasn’t happy when you decided to book your own ticket after she had refuses to book you one because it wasn’t for ‘professional purposes’.

The hotel you booked was close to hers, just by accident, but you decided to hire a cab to bring her over anyway. You had been waiting patiently when she knocked on your door at around 10 at night.

“Hi,” you said softly, walking backwards to let her in.

“Hi,” she replied, tugging at the back of your neck and kicking off her boots, “I missed you.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, couldn’t stop thinking about you, and this,” you let her explore your body because you had been waiting for her to do so for so long.

You collapsed next to her with a heavy sigh, looking over. Her hair was disheveled, her eyes closed and lips parted, her chest rose up and down. She looked so pure like an angel, but also sinful like the devil. Her eyelids peeled open, and her eyes had turned a deep green when she looked over at you.

She was perfect, and you were enraptured by her in every way.

So you captured her lips in a slow kiss. Low hums bubbled in her throat, as she snaked an arm around your waist.

“I love you,” it came out as the fainted whisper. You froze. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

“What?” You breathed out.

“I said I love you,” she repeated, locking you in with kisses along your jaw.

“No,“ you pulled away, shaking your head vehemently, “no, you don’t, Flo. Don’t say shit like that.”

“What the fuck?” Why was she offended? “Y/N?”

“You can’t just say stuff like that without any consequences,” you didn’t mean to snap, but you were pacing around too, “we agreed to just fooling around.”

“Okay, I’m sorry. Why are you so pissed about this?”

“Because you’re being unfair!” You exclaimed. “You don’t love me, but I love you, Flo! I love you. And this, all of this is so unfair.”

“Then why did you agree to it?” She frowned.

“Because—“ there was a lump growing in your throat, “because having some of you is better than nothing.”

“God, Y/N,” Flo sat up, and put her hand in her hands, the sheets barely covering her bare chest. “We should have never done this.”

“So you regret it?”

“No, but I wouldn’t have agreed to it if I knew it was so agonizing for you. Like shit, what the hell do you want from me, Y/N?!”

You stood at the foot of the bed, your fists clenching and relaxing. You felt so small. The light from outside the window scarred her face.

“I want you,” you said defeatedly, “I want you to love me the way I love you.”

She looked at you incredulously, “how long have you had feelings for me?”

You looked away. “I don’t know, like ever since we met I felt something. I just never said anything.”

You heard her grumble under her breath. “I-I can’t right now, Y/N. There are things that I still need to work on. It was really hard where I left off with my last relationship.”

“I know,” you took a seat at the edge of the bed, “I’ll wait for you, until you’re ready.”

“I can’t ask you to wait for me.”

“I’ve been waiting for three years,” you smiled sadly, “I can wait a little more.”

You watched her as she wordlessly got up and gathered her clothes to put them back on. You wanted to speak up, but you could only watch like a ghost.

“Thank you, Y/N, for everything you’ve done for me,” she held your hand, and stroked your cheeks tenderly. “I have never taken you for granted, ever. And yes, I do love you.”

She leaned down to kiss your forehead before heading for the door. You felt the tears welling up, but you spoke anyways.

“When you’re ready, you know how to reach me.”

There was a hint of a smile before Florence turned to the door. When it closed, you felt the stillness of the room, void of the rustling of the sheets when she would turn to the side, her quiet hums of a melody she couldn’t get out of her head, the click of her lighter as she goes to light her cigarette. It was you, and your own sounds now, devoid of bliss, devoid of her.

#florence pugh x reader #florence pugh imagines #florence pugh imagine #florence pugh x you #florence pugh angst

327 notes · View notes