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quin-ns · 1 year

Text

Invisible String (Joel Miller x Reader)

Word count: 3K

Summary: bill and frank host. tess is jealous. joel is confronted with his feelings. you cry over a shower

Tags: 2007 (as seen in ep3), age gap, protective!joel, jealousy, tess isn’t painted in a bad light but she gets her feelings hurt a lil, angst, joel being emotionally suppressed, everyone hiding their emotions actually no one copes normally, emotional hurt/comfort, hugs, pining!joel, hugs, fluff

Request: anon: “hello! i am totally obsessed with your work! i was womdering, if you still take requests, if you can write a joel x reader fic where the reader has a tough exterior with everyone, including Joel, but he knows how sensitive and delicate she is on the inside and behind closed doors. picture this for reference: she had warm water at bill and frank's and she started sobbing uncontrollably, but in front of joel she will always deny she doesn't feel depressed and emotional, but he knows better that this and they both help each other to open up.”

Request: anon: “loved your first joel fic!! if you’re okay with requests can you do another joel fic where maybe tess is jealous of how joel softens around the reader? like he’s not really an affectionate guy but with her he is and tess realizes how he feels about the reader? maybe they’re at frank and bills house and she knows joel doesn’t want to stay but for the reader he will? or something like that it’s up to you- you’re the writer after all”

A/N: so since both of these requests included joel being soft for the reader and them being at bill and franks, I decided to combine them. I liked both concepts and I thought mixing them would lead to something interesting. I feel like there’s more to this story so if y’all want a part two lmk

Cross-posted to ao3 • tlou masterlist • writing masterlist

When you, Joel, and Tess first met Bill and Frank, none of you had any idea how you’d end up feeling about the two men.

Frank had allowed the three of you to enter their isolated town and introduced them both (okay, nice enough), and then Bill had pointed a gun at you (not so nice). Why you? No particular reason other than that you were his closest target. From that moment Joel wasn’t a fan.

“If you’re gonna point that thing at someone, point it at me. Not at her,” Joel said sternly, his hardened gaze fixed on Bill. The two stared one another down for a moment as Bill quickly identified Joel’s weakness. Tess looked at Joel, working hard to hide the frustration on her face.

He obliged, turning the gun onto Joel.

“Bill,” Frank said softly yet firmly.

Bill glanced at Frank, who was silently asking him to relent. Bill lowered the gun with a huff.

With the hostility out of the way, or at least set aside for the moment, Frank offered you an apologetic smile.

“Would you like to see our home?” he asked as a peace offering.

“We’d love to,” Tess answered at the same time as Joel, who said—

“We actually should be going.”

You didn’t say anything, which caused them both to look at you. Tie breaker.

Tess had a feeling you’d agree with her, but what happened next still bothered her.

You and Joel exchanged a look, having a silent conversation. Joel registered that despite the gun incident, you weren’t fearful. It was only because of that that Joel looked at Frank and nodded.

“Alright,” he changed his answer.

Tess wanted to scream.

Frank seemed relieved and his smile grew. He led the three of you to the large white house that the two men called their home.

“You’re welcome to anything in the house,” Frank said kindly, ignoring the disapproving grunt that came from Bill. “Clothes, medicine, water, food—although Bill will be starting dinner soon—and of course the shower,” he listed off.

Your ears perked up at “shower.” Joel could tell by the way you actually lifted your head. Just a day ago you had been reminiscing on how long it had been since you felt clean. Like, really clean. Hot water, soap, soft towel—you longed for it and Joel knew that.

Frank noticed too. “Shower it is.”

“Thank you,” you said immediately. “For being so kind and sharing your home with us.”

“If I’m being honest, I’ve been bugging Bill for us to find some friends,” Frank admitted to you quietly. “Speaking of which,” he started. “Bill? Maybe you could get our other guests some drinks? I’m going to show—“ he looked back at you.

“Y/N,” you filled in.

“—Y/N to the shower,” Frank finished.

You didn’t hear what Bill had to say, but that was the least of your concern as Frank gestured for you to follow him.

Joel watched as you followed Frank away. He itched to go after you, not comfortable with you being apart from him. He felt incredibly protective over you and maybe it wasn’t the healthiest reaction, but he didn’t like to let you out of his sight. It scared him—not that he’d ever admit it.

“Don’t worry, I think she’ll survive without you,” Tess said sarcastically, smothering the genuine bitterness she felt at the man’s reaction. Joel was never like this before. Well, before you.

Joel threw her a glance, but didn’t say anything. Bill was approaching them and grumpily suggested they follow him into the kitchen.

They all made casual conversation, Tess doing most of the talking.

Upstairs, Frank was showing you to the shower. He’d given you a towel and found you soap, shampoo, and conditioner.

“Thank you so much,” you said yet again. Frank just laughed it off and told you no worries, and that if you needed anything you could just call for him.

You closed the door, isolating yourself in the bathroom. You turned on the water and held your hand under it until it was warm. A smile spread across your face. You quickly stripped and stepped under the water, longing for the feel of a hot shower.

It was everything you had hoped for. You relished in the hot water rushing over your tired body.

You prided yourself on being tough—like not even flinching when Bill pulled his gun on you—but something about the comfort that reminded you of the old world brought tears to your eyes. Their house was so normal. Nothing like the wilderness, the destroyed towns, or even the QZ. You were only a child when the pandemic happened, but you held onto a few fond memories. You never felt at home in the QZ.

The only thing that made it feel comfortable and safe was Joel, but this was still so much better than the QZ. It was overwhelming.

Next thing you knew, a sob of happiness broke free. And once it started you couldn’t stop.

In the kitchen, Bill was standing at the stove cooking. Joel didn’t know what it was—but it smelled delicious. Frank had excused himself to set up a table outside so everyone could eat together in the nice weather.

“Sorry, by the way,” Bill announced, off topic from the previous discussion. He didn’t look up from his task of sautéing onions as he spoke. “For the uh, gun thing. Can’t be too careful.”

Tess and Joel looked at one another. They both suspected Frank must’ve said something to convince him to apologize. But beyond that, they both thought back to the incident. A flash of anger shot through Joel at the memory of the weapon being targeted at you. Tess remembered how reckless Joel had been, asking Bill to turn the gun on him. Would he really trade his life for yours? Once Tess started thinking about that, she couldn’t stop.

She started to become quiet during the conversation, which was pretty much when the talking fizzled out. Joel wasn’t very talkative, and clearly neither was Bill.

“I’m gonna go see if Frank needs help,” Bill decided after a few minutes. Joel and Tess exchanged a look. Obviously he just wanted away from them for a moment of relief—he wasn’t anticipating having to be social and wasn’t too happy with it.

Once they had a moment alone, Joel had a feeling Tess was going to unleash. It had been building up, Joel could tell her mood had turned sour.

“What was that?” she asked vaguely. Joel furrowed his brows. “Earlier,” she clarified.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Joel stated. He had an inclination, but he was hoping Tess would drop it.

She didn’t. “You asked him to point a gun at you!” Tess said in a hushed yell, frustration seeping out in her scolding tone.

“He wasn’t going to shoot me,” Joel deadpanned.

“He wasn’t going to shoot at all,” Tess confirmed. “So then why did you tell him to turn it on you?”

She was pushing for an answer she didn’t want, but now that she had started Tess wasn’t going to let up. She was stubborn like that.

“I didn’t like him pointing a gun at Y/N,” Joel admitted. The memory of it made him clench his fist. Tess didn’t see that, but she saw the way Joel wouldn’t hold her gaze.

Her jaw clenched. “You’re too soft on her.”

At that, Joel scoffed. The sound came out before he could stop it. “How is that being too soft on her?”

Tess was quiet for a moment, contemplating her next words. “It’s not just that,” she said, quieter, almost distant. It was a contrast to how loud she’d been getting.

Joel took a deep breath through his nose, then let out a heavy sigh. He finally looked Tess dead in the eye. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

If it wasn’t for the desperate look on Tess’s face, he would’ve gotten up and walked away. She wasn’t done. She was struggling to say what she wanted to say, and Joel didn’t want her to.

“The moment she came into our lives, that was it,” Tess told herself just as much as she was saying it to Joel.

She was backing Joel into a corner. “Where is this coming from?” he questioned.

Tess let out a humorless laugh. “This has been a long time coming,” she confessed. “I see the way you look at her, how you act around her. She’s just about half your age and yet you always seem to find something in common. You cut me out, Joel.”

Joel was at a loss of words. He couldn’t seem to find the words to defend himself. Tess continued.

“We’ve been in that scenario before, do you remember? When you and I were making a trade and the punk pointed a gun at me?” Tess recalled. Joel recovered the memory quickly, and he began to zero in on exactly why this meant so much to Tess. “You never would’ve considered trading yourself for me. I know because you didn’t.”

“That was different,” was all Joel could come up with.

“I never would’ve made you choose between me and her, but you did on your own,” Tess held firm. Her jaw clenched as she fought to not let herself get any more emotional. “And you chose her. I see that now.”

“Tess,” Joel started, but she shook her head.

“Don’t try to lie to me. Please.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Joel said. He wasn’t even sure what he was planning on saying before. This had all come out of nowhere. At least for him, Tess had clearly had this on her mind for a long while and today just happened to be the final straw. “I’m sorry,” he decided, but it was too little too late.

Tess liked you. She really did. And you hadn’t done anything on purpose. You probably didn’t even know the effect you had on Joel. That’s what made being jealous of you so hard. She wanted to not like you, to blame you for stealing any ounce of affection Joel allowed himself to have, but she couldn’t.

She cleared her throat. “I’m going to go check and see if they need any help setting up outside.” The sudden calmness was eerie. Joel looked at her cautiously. “We’re going to just… drop this,” Tess decided. “And we can all try and have a nice time together, eat a real meal, take hot showers, and relax for the night before we head out in the morning.”

Suppression. Tess was going to bottle everything up. Ignore it and move on. It was something her and Joel had in common.

She left him then, and Joel felt no desire to go after her. He felt guilty about that, but he had nothing left to say to Tess about that and she’d concluded her piece.

Instead, Joel found himself leaving the kitchen table. He followed the sound of running water upstairs. You’d been in the shower for a while and there was a nagging feeling in Joel’s chest that longed to find you.

His feet carried him to the bathroom door, where he knew you still were.

Joel heard a sad, gasping sound from you. It was nearly drowned out, but he heard it. Concern overwhelmed him in an instant.

Joel pressed his ear to the door. He almost busted in, but wanted to take a moment. And it was good he did. What he had first thought were sounds of distress, was actually you muffling cries of relief. He could tell. He wasn’t sure how—maybe it was the tone, or the softness to the sounds, or he just knew you too well—but he could tell.

His hand reached for the doorknob. Joel grasped it and contemplated turning it. He leaned the side of his head against the door.

“Y/N?” Joel called through the door. He went blank over what else to say. Should he ask if you were alright? Would you be weirded out if he asked to come in? You were showering after all. Instead he said nothing.

You went silent. Joel felt bad now. You were never emotional around anyone, you tried to hide it from him. Joel wished you wouldn’t. But he supposed you were just following by example.

“Yeah?” you asked.

“Um,” Joel stalled. “I was just checking on you.”

“Oh, um, I'm alright,” you replied. A few seconds of quiet passed. “Thank you, though.”

Joel listened to the sound of water rushing from the shower. You’d stopped your tears it seemed, but Joel could hear the quiver in your voice when you’d spoken.

“It’s okay if you’re not,” Joel told you carefully.

“I’m fine, Joel,” you assured.

When Joel first met you, you were innocent despite the dark world and wore your heart on your sleeve. You used to express yourself emotionally, but now Joel couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen you let yourself break.

You’d gotten better about hiding it. He wanted to help you open up, but that was something even he struggled to do.

Joel went down the stairs and to the living room. No one else was in the house, he could see out the window that Frank was showing Tess around their garden while Bill was setting up the food.

Joel sat on the couch and thought over your interaction through the door. He wished he would have waited for you to come out of the bathroom to talk to you, to make sure you were okay, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Because then he’d have to explain himself as to why and after the conversation with Tess, he feared how you’d react to the knowledge of his feelings.

As if on cue, there were light steps descending down the stairs. Joel turned to look at you.

Your hair was damp, and you were wearing an oversized clean shirt that must’ve come from one of the hosts (Frank was the nicer one, so Joel guessed it was him who lent you it) and a pair of jeans that you’d packed that you hadn’t worn yet.

“Hi,” you greeted.

“Hey,” Joel said, watching you as you moved over to him. “Everyone else is outside.”

“I see that,” you said lightly. “Is everything okay?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Joel asked.

You shrugged. “I thought I heard arguing earlier. You and Tess,” you explained. “Bathroom is right above the kitchen…”

A brief moment of unease filled Joel. “What all did you hear?”

“No words clearly, just Tess raising her voice,” you revealed. Joel just gave you a slight nod. He had a feeling that wasn’t the only thing you had to say. “Did you, um… hear me earlier?”

Joel knew instantly what you meant. “No.” He hated lying to you. “Yes.”

“I thought so. I just”—you searched for your words—“I’m fine. That was just—”

“You don’t have to explain yourself.”

You swallowed and took a breath. “I’m not weak.”

Joel let out a small huff. “I know that.” That fact that you thought you had to tell him was amusing in an odd way. He was well aware.

“Well, alright then,” you said decidedly. “It’s just been so long since we’ve had hot water and—“

“You don’t have to explain yourself. You’re allowed to feel,” Joel reminded. “I know you. You’re strong. But you’re also a good, sweet, caring person and I just”—Joel sighed, struggling for his words even as they were tumbling out—“I don’t want to see you go numb to the world. I don’t want you to end up like me.”

You looked at him curiously. He stood for some reason, it felt more natural for him. Your eyes held his on his way up. “You’re not numb, Joel,” you told him, sounding so sure of yourself. “I don’t think that. I think you put on a brave face just like I do. Although I guess I’m not as good at hiding it as I thought.”

A small laugh left you as you shook your head.

“What?”

“It’s just been so long since I talked about… feelings,” you admitted.

“Same here,” Joel agreed.

“It’s weird, isn’t it? I shouldn’t be, but it is.”

Joel got an idea. He hoped it wasn’t a bad one. “Maybe we can… help each other with that. Y’know, find a way to talk about it.”

You gave him a gentle smile. Before Joel could process, you were wrapping your arms around him and clinging to him in a hug. It was a sudden, unfamiliar movement. Joel held you against his body, resting his chin on your head.

“That’s a good idea,” you told him, your voice muffled against him.

Joel hadn’t touched, let alone held, someone in so long. It was nice. Mostly because it was you.

The sound of a door opening and heavy steps alerted you, causing you and Joel to part from one another. Frank approached the two of you with a welcoming smile on his face.

“Dinners ready,” he informed, looking between the both of you.

“Seriously, we cannot thank you enough, Frank,” you said kindly. He gestured towards the door in an “after you” manner. You gave him a smile and headed outside. Before you stepped out, you gave Joel one last grateful look.

There was a slight smile on Frank’s face as he looked at Joel, who hadn’t moved yet.

“It’s nice to have someone in a world like this, isn’t it?” Frank asked in a sincere tone.

Joel looked out the window towards the garden where you joined the table. You smiled at the sight of the food and took a seat.

After having a whole conversation about allowing feelings, Joel decided that he didn’t want to suppress the small smile of appreciation that crossed his own face.

“Yeah, it is,” Joel answered.

starting a joel taglist, if you’d like to be on it lmk through an ask or message!

joel taglist: @the-ice-frozen-ground-red-rose

#quin-ns writing #request #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you

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railingsofsorrow · 11 months

Note

hiii could i request a cute lil fic of the origin of spencer’s purple scarf? maybe reader is in the bau too and they’re secretly dating and maybe for their one month she gives him the purple scarf cuz she notices turtle necks bother him so she opted to get something that warms him up, is his favorite color, and reminds him of her if there’s ever a change they’re apart ….

he loves it ofc and starts wearing it to work and the team realizes it’s his thing now to wear the scarf if he’s cold and the reader feels all happy cuz he likes it but maybe during a tough case reader gets hurt protecting the team and in the hospital he’s like fidgeting with the scarf and morgan asks what’s up and he’s like “y/n gave me this scarf she said it would remind me of her if we’re ever apart but i don’t ever want to be away from her” AND IT ENDSS IN FLUFF PLS TJANK UUUU

maybe a cute lil recovery scene where the reader is cold and he gives her the scarf to wrap around her neck mwahhahaha and some team comments mwahahhhaha

Purple Scarf

[spencer reid x reader]

A/N: can I just say how in love with this request I was when I saw it my heart BURST. hope I granted your wishes anon <3

summary: in which yours and spencer's secret relationship is not as secret as you thought it was.

pairing: s.reid x f!reader

w.c: 3.5K

warnings/content: allusions to sexual content (you blink and you miss it); cm usual violence and confrontation; mentions of blood, hospitals and injuries; angst; teasing; fluff fluff fluff.

navi

masterpost

[requested]

•°. *࿐•°. *࿐•°. *࿐

September 8 of 2007.

Day 30.

It's officially a month that you and Spencer are dating. More specifically 720,000 hours, 43,200 minutes and 2,592,000 seconds — Yes, he counted. It's not that surprising, his brain never stops.

“Did you finish Dandelion Wine last night again?”

Unless it's your voice. That angelic sound slipping out from your throat that resembled the A Major key in a piano; a warm blanket draping over him that soothed his mind to a less frantic place.

The way your lips curl in a smile tells him you're not phased by his nod of affirmation. Leaning on his desk with your hip, you place down his mug in front of him, coffee vapor fluttering out.

“I'm not surprised.”

His grin is hidden by sipping on the hot liquid. “Why would you be?”

“Right.”

Spencer wanted to kiss you. He'd be bashful and red at the mere thought of it a few months ago, a complete mess if your gaze so much as crossed. But he's known you for two years now, you've been friends since you entered the BAU, and he's been in love with you for half of that time. He's allowed to think that in a work environment. He's just not allowed to do it.

He's very inclined to break the rules when he feels cold fingers running through the nape of his neck. Spencer's instinctive reaction is to shrink his shoulders but he quickly relaxes.

“Don't know how you can even think about cutting it,” you say, pulling softly at his strands.

He gave you a look. “It's too long.”

“So?” you shrug. “It's pretty,” you traced her thumb across his jaw, halting on his cheek. “You're pretty.”

He doesn't know how to react to compliments first thing in the morning. Scratch that, he doesn't know how to react to compliments at all.

“You're prettier.”

“That's not possible.”

And he's about to shut you up with a kiss because frantically? How could you disagree with him on this. But you retract your hands and pull some space between you. His hurt expression isn't present for long until he notices where your gaze falls.

Derek is talking to someone behind the glass doors, his hand wavering over the entrance announcing that the conversation is ending.

Your relationship being a secret was a mutual decision. None of you wanted the attention or the teasing that would eventually come from your friends — not that that didn't occurred before. Less alone the issues with the Fraternization Policy, they'd rather leave that to the fine line in Morgan and Garcia's work calls.

“Don't cut it.” She nudges his arm. “How am I supposed to pull it?”

Spencer choked on his coffee, inciting a chuckle out of you as you rubbed his back gently. He blinked up at you in shock.

“What?”

“Great scarf. Love the color.”

He officially hates you. Yes.

Except that he doesn't. Not even a little bit.

Your menacing smile is the last thing he sees before you walk off to Penelope's office. Of course you love it, you gave it to him as one month anniversary gift that morning, while he had given you a book you've been mentioning for a while and a necklace with your birthstone in the pendant.

“I know turtlenecks bother you but I know you get cold easily so I thought you'd like it.” Spencer hadn't given you a reaction. From the moment he opened your gift box, he sat emotionless on the sofa, staring at it as his fingers stroked the soft fabric.

It was a handknit purple scarf. Spencer couldn't believe it. You made it yourself. He vaguely remembers you always knitting something in the jet when a case was over, he thought you had adopted a new hobby, not that you were doing this for him.

And in his favorite color.

He felt like crying upon seeing the S.W.R on one of the extremities. His initials.

“You didn't like it.”

His head snapped up and he's met with your uneasy gaze. He hadn't said anything.

Spencer crossed the room in a sprint and crashes your lips to his, you respond with a ooof! in surprise but quickly kisses him back just as fervently.

“I love it.” He says after you split apart. “It's the best gift I've ever gotten.” He keeps peppering your face with kisses which makes giggles to erupt out of you. “Thank you, thank you, sweetheart.”

“It's for you to remember me when we're apart.” Her cheeks flushed pink. “That was cheesy but I knitted it that so I get to be cheesy.”

Spencer fiddled with the soft fabric of his scarf, loosening it slightly. It was suddenly too warm.

He blames you for it.

The two of you were supposed to spend the rest of the day in a Contemporary Art Museum after your paperwork was done. You weren't called in for a case, so it was a last minute decision because of your hectic schedule.

“Why are you all flushed?” He turns to Derek with widened eyes.

“What?”

Derek narrowed him down suspiciously. Hotch interrupts them by calling them in for the conference room. Spencer inwardly groans but he takes it to slip away from Derek's pestering.

“Oh, that's beautiful.” JJ points at your neck as you meet in the roundtable. “Where did you get it?” Your fingers brushed against the necklace mindlessly, the edge of your lips quirking up slightly.

“It's a gift.”

JJ silently studied your features as you say down beside one another, waiting for Garcia to present the new case. That fond gaze, the sparkle in your eyes and the way your body demeanor instantly relaxed was the indication she needed to understand what you weren't saying.

“Oh,” her grin widened and she leans closer. “Who's the lucky someone?”

Your eyes lowered to your lap and you tried to pretend you were interested in your shoes. She could see you getting flustered and that made her shook her head in disbelief. JJ has never seen you that shy or even blushing. That was new.

Spencer walked in with Derek and Emily on his trail. They started discussing the case when Rossi arrived. You didn't spend ten minutes in the room before Hotch announced wheels up in thirty.

“Did you know that poor sleeping habits can interfere in your sleep quality? A study showed that daily coffee consumption and using the cellphone in bed are two of the largest factors associated with poor sleep quality. Besides stress, anxiety, depression, sleep apnea, and chronic health conditions.”

Spencer rambles on before you can settle down in one of the seats, covering a yawn with your hand.

“I'm glad you know too much caffeine is bad for your health, baby. Maybe you should follow your own advice.” You heard his snicker as he sits down with a smug smile. You chose the window seat, Emily takes your side and Derek sits across from you. Rossi and Hotch are in the seats beside yours while JJ takes the couch.

The air shifts. You feel it. It's sudden, out of nowhere and you can't figure out the reason. All eyes are set on you which makes you shift uncomfortably, sleepiness vanishing.

“What?”

“Baby?” Derek lifts a brow questioningly and you cast him a confused look. But Spencer buried his face in the file and all is clear.

“You have petnames now?” Emily teases, nudging your feet with her shoe. “That's sickening.”

“That's cute!” Penelope yells from the computer scream.

You clear your throat in a foolish attempt for cover your embarrassment. You called him baby in front of the whole team? Nice. Very nice. You stupid idiot.

“It's manner of speaking,” You shrug, grabbing the crime scene photo haphazardly.

Emily quips back a comment and Derek follows her on it. Fortunately, Hotch begins to detail what everyone else will do as they land. JJ and Reid are going to the morgue to analyse Victmology, Rossi and Emily are going to the police station and that leaves you Hotch to the crime scenes.

It took a while for you to grasp the UnSub's intentions. You spent the entire afternoon with the wrong profile to then figure out he was hunting people that had a certain face shape and visible scars. Nothing related to gender, contrary to what you believed.

When you found him, he had a knife to a woman's neck, the last victim that had disappeared two days ago. Apparently you got there exactly on time because he kept his victims for two days to bury them alive in the last one.

But he didn't want to let her go, despite the ensuing confrontation. Either he surrendered or he died, there was no in between. You wouldn't let him hurt anybody else.

“Let her go.”

Aaron's assertive tone reverberated through the warehouse. The SWAT team was blocking every exit possible, at least twenty firearms aimed at him but he still wouldn't budge.

“Can't do that,” the UnSub lowered the knife closer to the victim's neck. He seemed too calm for someone that cornered. No. You could see the slight shake in his hand that he was trying to cover. “You get back from where you came from or I'll slash her throat.”

“You won't do that.”

For some reason, you thought it was Emily speaking, attempting to get into his head. Until Derek hissed for you to stay back and you realized the voice belonged to you.

“You can get out of this, just let her go and surrender. No harm has to be done.”

“Right. So that I can spend the rest of my life tossed up behind bars? I don't think so, Agent.”

The smugness in his tone was betrayed by the twitch in his left eye and that's when you knew you were almost there.

“We can make a deal. One that'll be comfortable for you,” you promised, stowing your weapon in your holster as your eyes kept locked on his. You didn't want to find out what would happen if you even breath the wrong way. “There's twenty people with you in their line of fire. Only one way out. Let her go, we'll figure this out.” You finally reached a position close enough to the victim but not at all safe for you. You were right at his aim if he wanted to shoot you, his gun right behind the woman's head.

“Only one way out?” He scoffed, cocking the weapon to the side.

Emily said his name in a warning. Everyone yelling for him to drop the weapon. He didn't.

You should've known better.

Your ears rang with Spencer calling out your name before you were thrown on the floor roughly without a single warning. The feeling of dread crippling in your chest when you felt something wet between your fingers.

“Hey, hey,” Derek forced you to look at him. “You okay?”

You blinked down at your arm, the bullet grazed the skin, it barely touched you. A breath of relief escaped you and he shook his head in disbelief.

“You're insane,” he uttered, hugging you to which you let out a groan. Your shoulder hurt, you couldn't move it.

At least it wasn't a bullet. Derek had pushed you away on time.

•°. *࿐

The thing you hated the most about hospitals was the fluorescent lights. Your eyes were sensitive to light which was the reason you used sunglasses anywhere you went — reading glasses as well, but you didn't bother with those. No matter how many times Spencer would list the permanent harm done to your sight every time he saw you squinting at a book.

You were stubborn. To say the least.

He thought it was cute, for the most part. You listened to him although you liked to do things you own way. Okay, he respected that. Spencer loves every part of you, from the scrunch of your nose when you laughed to the rare times you'd forget the wet towel on the bed.

Sometimes, however, he wants to crawl out of his skin. How could you let your guard down in front of a madman that was ready to lose it all? Why couldn't you just stay back like Derek had asked and waited patiently on how it would play out?

But no, you wouldn't do that. You were as stubborn as a mule. And that's how you got shot in the arm and dislocated a shoulder.

“It grazed her forearm, Spence.” JJ explained for the tenth time. “She just needed some stitches.”

“But it wasn't just the grazed arm, though was it? There's also the dislocated shoulder and the almost concussion she gained as she fell on the floor.”

JJ sighed and turned to him. “You're concerned, but she's fine. It wasn't exactly wise what she did,” she said with a wince. “But it's done and thankfully didn't evolved to anything serious.”

“She reminds me of you.”

Both heads snapped around to see Derek approaching with his coffee. He pointed the plastic spoon he was stirring the coffee with directly at Spencer's face.

“What does that mean?” Spencer pulls away from the threatening spoon, the pitch of his voice raising.

Derek looks at JJ with a pointed look, she seems to understand and chuckles, nodding shortly.

Oh, they're communicating through telepathy now?

“You're both reckless.” Derek pats his shoulder, mentioning for something behind him. Just as Spencer is about to retort, he sees you through the transparent doors of your room, chuckling at something the doctor said. “See? She's awake.”

Spencer can't tell how long he stood there, staring at you until JJ nudged him.

“I've never seen you wearing scarves. Is that new?” She eyes the purple fabric around his neck with a little smile. His fingers brush against it absentmindedly.

“Uh, yeah. It's a gift. She gave it to me.” JJ blinks up at him in surprise, she was not expecting Spencer to just blurt it out like that. “... said it was something to remember her when we're apart.” His lips spread into a soft grin. He didn't even notice he was speaking out loud. “As if I can ever forget her.”

“Go see your girl, pretty boy. Stop staring.” Derek walked back towards them, pushing Spencer towards your room with a slight shove. Safe to say he hadn't heard anything Spencer said.

At first, JJ tries not to demonstrate her excitement too much. She thought that when Penelope told her they were seeing each other out of work it was a big fantasy created in her head. Everyone knew they had feelings for one another but nobody would dare think they were already past the friends phase. Oh, but JJ was so wrong. That fondness in Spencer was something new. A good something. And she couldn't be happier for the two of you.

“Hi,” you beam at the sight of your boyfriend entering the room.

“Hi.” Spencer kisses the top of your head and wraps an arm around your back as to not touch your injured arm. “How do you feel?”

“Ready to enter the jet and sleep the two hours we have until we land in Quantico.”

He cracks a smile, shaking his head. “You're unbelievable.”

You let out a half laugh, when your eyes met you saw a pinch of concern between his brows as he scanned you over.

“Spencer, I'm fine.”

“Can you maybe try and be more careful next time?” He says. “Don't lower your weapon while being on the aim of a serial killer?”

You hummed softly, adjusting the collar of his shirt behind the vest he was wearing. “Okay. Can you promise to do the same then? Cause you're just as reckless as me.”

He gaped at you. “I am not—”

“Spencer.”

He clips his mouth shut, blinking. “Fine? Okay. Yeah, fine.” He breathes out. “Just don't scare me like that again, please?” He pointedly says, brushing a stray strand behind your ear.

Your line of work was tough, especially if someone you deeply cared about was in the field with you. You couldn't just disconnect work and personal life in these kind of situations, as hard as you tried. Your heart leaped in your chest every time anyone from the team so much as got a minimum scratch. They're your family through and through.

And Spencer... Spencer was the love of your life. No doubt in that.

That's why it wasn't worth it to dwell on what happened in the field but focus on the after. Night outs to a bar, karaoke night, dinner at Rossi's — he makes a killer pasta — or, in this case, an Art Museum date with your boyfriend. Those moments made everything worth it.

The air shifts again. You study the room as you sit beside Spencer, trying to find any hints from what it might have caused that feeling. But everyone is paying attention to their own things and things seems normal. Or your profile skills are clouded by your exhaustion.

Something fuzzy wraps around your neck and the smell of amber and cinnamon took you to a familiar place.

“You forgot to bring a coat,” he said, tucking your hair behind your ears gently, adjusting the scarf on you. “It looks good on you too.” He shrugs, lips curling in a pout.

Can you blame yourself for wanting to kiss him so badly?

You don't do it, aware you were under profilers’ watchful eyes. Spencer lifted the arm of the seat so you could rest your head on his shoulder as he read — one time you revealed you liked the sound of page turning as he read and he made sure you always could rest against him. You might have missed the collective cooing around the jet as soon as you fell asleep but Spencer didn't and he tried to hide the tinge of red in his cheeks behind the book.

“Pay up.” Derek ordered with his hand outstreched to Emily, who promptly slapped it.

“You don't know how long.”

“My bet was that they were already seeing each other.”

“That's not fair,” Rossi chipped in. “We didn't established a period of time.”

Derek shrugs, “Not my problem. I won either way.”

“Penelope said the same thing.”

“Well, then babygirl and I won—”

“We still need a time.” Emily said thoughtfully, giving Derek his money with a huff. “This is extortion, Morgan.”

He chuckled, waving the twenty dollar bill in front of her. JJ rolled her eyes at the childishness. At the end, Derek had earned sixty bucks between grumblings of unfairness.

“When do you think?” Hotch broke the conversation, eyes not even lifting from his reports. Emily asked him what he was talking about. “I'd say that it became official in about a month.” He hadn't participated in the bet, but he could share a thing or two on the topic. God knows how long you you two have been pinning over each other.

Rossi narrowed his eyes at him, suspiciously, “You know something we don't, Aaron?”

“Just mere assumptions.”

It didn't take long for another bet to ensue. When the jet landed, each one stretched their limbs and prepared to go home, before anyone could move towards the exit, however, Spencer broke the silence.

“Hotch is right.” He said, grabbing both of your go-bags and following you out of the door.

“Did he just?” Emily froze half way standing up.

“That little shit.”

He didn't hold back the chuckle as a faint argument started.

“What are you laughing at?” You glance at him at the corner of your eye. He brushes you off, pulling you at his side by wrapping a hand around your waist. “Are you aware they can see us or...?” You queried, confused at his actions.

Spencer shrugs, kissing your temple. “They know.”

You bury your nose in the scarf and lean into his side, not even daring to ask what he means by that and neither do you look back at your friends. You'd rather face the teasing in the morning anyway.

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #reader insert #criminal minds fanfiction #requested #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fluff

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tookthe-405 · 1 month

Text

VBS

Chapter 1:

“VBS” ~ Lucy Dacus

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rebel!ellie x fem!reader

a/n: this one’s more fluff and for every gay baby still in a church, thinking they don’t belong.

summary: you grew up religious without questions and in summer you would get send to vacation bible school. The camp always felt like prison to you, until a very interesting girl appeared.

c/w: smut in future chaps!!, religious trauma (obviously)

7/20/2007 (friday, week 1)

Readers pov:

2:34 p.m

You're sure you've never been asked. Never. It was always natural that you believe and pray. For everyone, for your family, your church friends, the pastors. The doubts also started very early. At 6, if you remember correctly.

You felt so guilty back then that you prayed and read the Bible all night long. The fear that demons could possess you, as soon as God left you, made you almost manic. But you thought that it was meant to be, that this was the price you needed to pay for being a child of God. But it began to feel more like a curse than a gift.

Of course you never told anyone this, you weren't crazy after all, but the thoughts followed you everywhere. You were waiting to be saved by someone, by God or just a person. No one ever appeard.

Until you turned 18. Until it was the summer of 2007.

Everything still looks pretty much the same, the youth hostel that had 3 floors and looks worn out, the church made of wood that stands here all year round, the lake only a few meters away from the big fire place where you gather every evening. The sun was almost shining in your face and it feels like a warning.

You're 18 now and this will be your last year here, although after that you'll probably work as a worshipper. But you and your friends wanted to spend one last summer here, like you have done for the last 4 years. There was a certain relief in you that it was the last year, but you would only confess that to God. He already knows it anyway.

It always amazes you how many people were here. It starts at the age of 14 and goes up to 18. Then there are a few „leaders“ who prepare programs and prayer sessions for you, and check every now and then whether everything is in order. That was your future, God was your future and the reward for it would be given to you at the end of your life.

Your mother talked so much during the 2 hour drive about how happy you are that your church welcomes you so lovingly even in the summer, and that's not a given because there are many other churches that don't give opportunities like that.

You noticed that all the church employees give up their summer to talk about God and that at some point you have to do the same thing as your mother, who donates every Sunday and volunteers in the kitchen for 6 hours.

That made you happy again, that you didn't have to do that until after the summer. Your mother kissed you on the forehead and said goodbye with God's blessing, you looked after the car for longer than necessary, and you tried to dig some poetic reason out of this feeling but there simply wasn’t one.

Now You're standing in front of the big building. All the teenagers are happily rushing from side to side and you feel guilty that you're the only one standing still and staring at the big cross above the door.

Hazel and the others aren't there yet, but you've been sent your room number per SMS and you feel ready to look for it on your own. Normally you follow Hazel around all summer, she always seems to know what was right and which way you should go. physically and mentally.

You would be here for 6 weeks, like every year, the rest of your family would spend their summer in Greece. You snort at the memory and continue to try to carry up your suitcase, which contains a 6 week supply of clothes and sweets. The boys' rooms are on the second floor and the girls' rooms on the third floor, it's always been that way and it still annoys you.

Room 26

The rolling of your suitcase leaves behind a noise that mixes with the many giggles,of the girls from the many rooms. You go through the many doors and check the numbers.

24, 25, 26

There will be 6 girls in each room and you know them all, but to your surprise the door is slightly open. But when you enter the room you don't find anyone. The familiar bunk beds greet your eyes and your mouth turned into a thin line, because you were both disappointed and unmotivated. There were enough cupboards on the wall for all of you, and they are still the same as last year.

A big, wide window at the end of the room showed the large meadow and the church, the lake was difficult to see but you know it’s there. There is a small table and a few chairs right in front of the window, you were lucky with the room this year, it could have been worse. You stand in front of the wooden table and enjoy the view.

The others should be there soon too. You decide to choose a bed, since Hazel loves to sleep on an upper bed, you put your suitcase and backpack on one of the beds below. Just as you were about to start unpacking, you heard the rushes of pillows.

"hey"

You let out a little scream.

There is a girl lying on the bed opposite, someone you don't know and have never seen before. Not even in church.

You're pretty sure you're both scanning each other at the same time. She is beautiful. Her face looks almost perfect. So far you can only see her head and her legs are hanging out a little over the edge of the bed, which you should have noticed when you came in. There was something different about her, different from the other girls you know. She seems to notice how scared you are and lets out a small and breathy laugh.

Her voice gives you goosebumps and you hope that she'll say something else very quickly. She jumps from the upper level of the bed down onto the floor, she doesn't seem to care about the ladder, and the wood makes a cracking noise. She lands deftly on the floor. Now you examine her properly again.

The sleeves of her flannel are rolled up to her elbows, revealing a tattoo that extends across her entire forearm. You couldn't catch the color of her eyes before, but now you can see it clearly. Green. She has short auburn hair in a half pulled back bun. She is wearing gray baggy joggers and black converse.

"ellie"

She extends her hand to you and you wonder how long it has been since someone had made that gesture towards you. You say your name and carefully take her hand. You notice freckles on her pale skin as your hands touch. Your heart feels like it's tied up in strings that you have to untie as quickly as possible.

When your hands separate again, they feel cold.

"I've never seen you here before," you remark and turn back to your suitcase with red cheeks.

"Yes, um... I'm new? I think you could say that."

With a few t-shirts in your hand, you look at her one more time. She looks out the window a little unsure.

"okay...?"

not a lot of information but you can handle it, you probably won't talk much anyway. You hope for her that she knows someone here and doesn't have to be alone.

Even if she's a little odd, that doesn't mean she has to have a hard time here. After putting your shirts away, you went to grab the rest of your clothes when you realized what was so different about her. Ellie is now laying back on the bed and appears to be drawing or writing something.

“Are you even Christian?” you ask her. The question seems so absurd here. Sometimes it seems as if the holiness of the church next door, extends to the youth hostel. You really shouldn't have to ask a question like that here.

her green eyes turn to you.

"Not really"

She doesn't wait for your reaction and you are very happy about that, because your face definitely shows your puzzled head. It doesn't make sense, and you’re having a really hard time finding one. Why should a non-believer do this to herself?

"Why-"

The door bursts open and Hazel and her other friends come into the room laughing loudly.

"Hey, sorry we're late, everything's fine" Hazel appears in front of you and hugs you tightly, the smell of fresh roses touches your nose.

"It's all good, up there Ellie, she's new"

The eyes of the 4 girls meet those of the new one. Ellie seems a bit surprised that you introduced her so quickly, but it would have been awkward if it had taken 5 minutes to notice that there was another person in the room.

"oh, hey ellie I’m hazel"

the other girls introduce themselves to her as well. Mia, Kate and Naveah. You know them all from church and they’re nice.

"Which church do you go to, Ellie?" Mia asks and you can already guess the answer, but don't say anything.

"I don’t really go to church only on Christmas and thanksgiving, my aunt and uncle sometimes drag me to our city church Center in San Francisco. They're the only reason why I'm here."

Okay yes, she was very clear that she didn't want to be here, everyone in the room can read that.

"OK!" Hazel claps her hands together almost hysterically. "Then it's our job to bring you closer to God, I'm sure you were sent here for a good reason."

Even if you grew up with such talk, you can’t hide your embarrassed expression. You're pretty sure that someone who didn't grew up in a religious household would neither like to hear something like that nor really want to enforce it.

"Oh you don't have to, if God has something planned for me, he'll definitely figure it out himself." She whispers the last part, not too inconspicuously.

You briefly pray that she has a few friends here because after that, Hazel definitely doesn't want anything to do with her anymore.

Hazel sighs vexed and loudly places her backpack on the table, which again attracts Ellie's attention. She looks away from her journal and stands herself up with her elbows.

"I believe that God often tries to spread his word through people, as it so often says in the Bible. Mark 16:15 says: Go into all the world and preach the gospel to all creation"

“Jesus,” Ellie whispers quietly.

“You can really leave me out, I’ll hear all your sermons anyway,” she adds.

"You can be happy about that, many people turn away from God and don't even hear his words," explains Kate.

"They’re lucky," murmurs Ellie, you're thinking about hitting her in the face , the next time she wants to say something.

Hazel's face showed a lot and it all goes in the same direction: anger and also responsibility. She believes that everything happens in God's will and that it is her job to convert ever human on earth. Unfortunately she also knows no limits.

"Do you at least have a Bible Ellie?" she asks, louder than necessary.

The other girls sit tensely at the table and watch the desputed interaction between the two.

"Yes, my aunt packed one for me"

"That's something"

"Um hazel" Naveah's voice was quiet and she looks like a frightened mouse. "We're about to have a get-to-know-you evening."

Hazel slowly comes out of her madness and smiles softly, just like you're used to.

"Right-"

"Ellie can go with us, she definitely doesn't know where to go."

You hate to interrupt your best friend, but you are sure that she would have just left Ellie here. Hazel's face looks a bit dazed and that only confirms it, Kate and the others also look at you with question marks on their faces.

“yeah I’d like that”

Your looks exchange and you smile at her in understanding.

Ellie is one of the most original girls you've ever had the pleasure of meeting, and you promise yourself not to succumb too much to the urges inside.

"Yeah whatever" Hazel storms past you without another word and the others follow her like dogs on a leash.

You could say that Hazel has always been more reverent and connected to God than most and this has made her both popular and well-known, especially in the church. The adults and pastors always spoke of her in the best terms.

It's every parent's greatest wish, that's clear to everyone. And that's one of the reasons why so many people want to be like her. The love and recognition of parents is not always self-evident, at least not in your church.

You realize that Ellie was your job now and that's why you stand there and wait until she jumps off the bed again.

"I don't actually want to do this, you know that?" She says.

you snort.

"Yes, you made that clear, Ellie."

As much as you try to be consistent and strict with her, you can't help but smile. You quickly follow the others, you can hear the footsteps of the other girl behind you.

The short path to the church across the meadow passes very quiet. Your gaze scurries over to the many other people, who are hurrying like bees making their way the bee queen. That's how it feels too, like a call from a higher society.

The church looks bigger from the inside, than you would think. It has a stage where preaching takes place and many benches, arranged in rows in front of it. A large wooden cross has been hung on the back wall near the stage, the sight of it gives you a cold shiver down your spine, even though you have been here so many times.

Ellie's figure appears next to you. She doesn't look too happy to be here either, but you can obviously hide it better. Her hands are tucked into her jogging pants and she has something masculine about her that you have never seen before.

But you find it brave and impressive how she didn't care what others thought of her. Hazel and her group had sat down in the second row and you tapped Ellie shoulder to make it clear to her that, whether she likes it or not, she will be sitting next to you.

She groans slightly for a moment, but follows you.

The church is very ordinary, except it’s made of wood it but other than that it looks like any other. As you and Ellie push your way forward through the crowd, you also see a few familiar faces from the last few years. You sit down in silence next to Naveah, who pays you no attention, just as Hazel.

Ellie lets out a sigh as she sits down and stares at the large cross. She looks a bit… charming?, but overall you can only tell that she has no interest whatsoever in being here. Ellie leans slightly toward you.

"What's going to happen here? Do we have to swear on the Bible or something?"

Your eyes widen and you can't help but laugh.

"No, the pastor will introduce himself and we will discuss what topics we have this week and what our daily routine looks like."

“Okay” She screws up her face and you smile.

When you turn back around, Hazel's stare pierces your soul. You didn't even have to turn towards her, the energy of her anger was strong enough, that it could’ve reach you in another state

"Okay children, sit down" Pastor Tobias walks through the hall and the crowd becomes quieter.

The fact that he still calls you children was not only embarrassing for you in front of Ellie, but it generally puzzled you a lot. But as mentioned, there were also 15 year olds here, but it still annoys you.

As soon as he stands on the stage, it becomes completely quiet.

"Welcome, it's nice that you're all here to serve God and praise the Lord."

Your chest slowly tightens and you fidget a little with your fingers. Ellie nudges you with her elbow. Surprised by the gesture, you turn to her, and she looks at you with so much concern and confusion at the same time that it disturbs you a bit.

Her look asks you if you're okay, but it also shows that she understands if you're not.

"This week we're tackling the topic of conversion and the rewards for it. Then on Wednesday you'll go on a hike in the forest."

The children all groan because everyone knows how shitty such hikes are and how long they were.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, but it's going to be brightened up with a little scavenger hunt. Later, the staff will give you your tasks here on the camp and , yes still today, there will be a Bible lesson. Every morning and afternoon."

You actually like Bible lessons, you were good at reciting facts that you read in a book, it wasn't as bad as having the words of a preacher tattooed into your brain.

Pastor Tobias drives ahead.

"You have free time in the morning until breakfast and then the bible lessons and workshops begin. There are many different selections where you can register straight away, and then you have free time again for a few hours. The youth hostel's sports hall is now open again And you can use it again this year. In the evening the sermon will takes place at 8 p.m. You then have the choice to watch a film in the large hall and there will be silence for bedtime at 11 p.m.."

“Shit, that doesn’t sound so bad.”

Ellie's honesty appeals to you like iced water on a hot summer day.

unfortunately it’s also a very loud call im such a quiet room and a few people laugh in the back rows.

The pastor's eyes land on the girl and he seems to have remembered something because he doesn't drive forward.

"ellie..." a quick glance at the list of many names.

"Williams?"

The call doesn't surprise Ellie, she just nods, unconvinced.

Pastor Tobias nods and you can read a kind of... anger that makes your hands sweat.

"Yes, I remember you, young girl"

Ellie grimaces briefly at the nickname, he gave her.

"I see there has been no progress?"

You frown, but again it seems to be expected for Ellie.

"None that you would like" she grins at him, if you couldn't hear her words it would pass for a warm, even playful, smile. The room seems even quieter now and now you feel really cold.

All of this makes you incredibly nervous in the worst possible way.

"yes I see, well I hope this will finally help you"

After the sermon and after everyone has unpacked their things, the Bible lesson begins. There, everyone is divided into groups and you can talk about God and the world either in your room, the common room or sometimes even outside.

Your group decides to go outside and the grass under your fingers feels nice and comforting cold somehow. Hazel and some of the others have changed and you are also wearing much more comfortable clothes now.

"I don't really trust her? Sounds weird but that's how I feel."

You nod to every syllable Hazel says about Ellie.

Hazel fidgets with her long, holey sweater and you look up at the sky, watching the clouds. The lesson should start in a few minutes but Ellie is nowhere to be seen.

"I don't think she's coming," Mia murmurs.

"Yeah, as if she'd care." Kate laughs.

Hazel shifts a bit.

"But she should, even Tobi said that. I knew there was something strange about her.”

It bothers you how they can speak so badly about a complete stranger.

“Pastor Tobi may be a pastor but he’s not God, we don’t know anything for sure, Hazel.” Your stern voice surprises the others.

Most of the time you prefer to listen and observe, rather than add to the something conversations yourself.

Most of the time.

“But we can trust him, at least I do. Don’t you?”

It was a bet, without a doubt, one that you wouldn’t take up.

“Okay girls,”

a young woman in her mid-20s appears in front you with a smile and a Bible in her hand.

“Where should we start? Any concerns?”

You look at her without any real thoughts, no memory of her.

“Must be new,” Hazel whispers, saying what you’re thinking.

“Oh yes, I’m Louisa, but you can call me whatever you want, Lou, Louise, I don’t care.”

A small smile, blinded by the sun, hits your face as you notice how authentic and nice she seems. Ellie would definitely like her too if she would be here… it’s strange how familiar she already is to you. how much you outvote her.

"I am both your carer and your contact person, because I know that many of you do not see the two as one and the same."

She smiles lovingly and sits cross-legged in front of you so that you form a small circle.

"If there is anything on your mind, you can talk to me."

Hazel speaks up, finger in the air, her body completely stiff.

"Oh, you don't have to-"

Hazel interrupts Louisa quickly.

"Ellie didn't show up,"

you almost hiss through your teeth.

"Yes, I noticed that too..." she looks at her note and seems to be thinking about what exactly she should about this situation.

"I'll talk to her later."

A smile that doesn't really show love and attention appears on Hazel's lips.

"You should do that."

You don't see or hear anything from Ellie for the rest of the evening. You keep catching yourself looking around, hoping that she might be behind you. Your ears waited to hear the girl's rough voice or bright laugh, but that just didn't happen.

At the campfire, the clouds of smoke and the big fire banish your view and you just don't dare to get up and look for her. It would be too conspicuous and Hazel is already angry enough.

Hazel tells you about the many fireflies she saw last week and that she got an instant camera before camp. You turn over your stick of bread in silence and lean back on the bench, then you feel a warm, familiar hand on your shoulder.

"Are you okay, darling?"

Louisa’s eyes examine your face worriedly. She looks almost as old as you in the dark, but the fire shows that she actually isn't.

"huh?"

"are you alright?"

When Hazel notices that you are no longer participating in her conversation she turns the other way to Kate, finally you hear silence in your head for the first time this afternoon.

"yes, I'm fine," you whisper.

She almost didn't seem to hear it, but nods slowly.

"are you looking for someone?"

she whispers back with a grin, either to accommodate your gesture or because she realizes that your other friends probably shouldn't notice.

"me? no."

You wave your hand in the air, distracted. Louisa didn't really seem to buy it.

She takes the bread from her stick and looks into the distance, behind the fire. You wonder what is going on in her head.

"she's behind the yard."

You turn to her, shocked, because she knows full well that Ellie is actually some kind of problem case that you should maybe probably stay away from.

The woman notices your gaze and looks at you amused.

"I know how it feels to want something you shouldn't want, a friendship especially. A lot of people don't mention it but group stress and pressure doesn't end at 18."

her words bring you both comfort and sadness.

"when will it end?"

you're not sure why you're talking to her about it, much less why you feel comfortable enough to do so. Louisa was silent for a few seconds before answering.

"depends. maybe never. only we can make a difference, even though we're not the cause of the problem."

You gently pull your bread off the fire and set it aside so that it rests on the stick, in the air.

"thank you Louisa" you stand up, smiling, and turn to Hazel with a little more determination.

"i'm going to the bathroom for a minute."

hazel's eyes drift up from her conversation with some brown haired guy.

"okay.

without listening to anything else, your feet lead you away from the fire, until it is just a memory and a red light in the distance.

You feel immediately relieved.

But the closer you get to the youth hostel, the more nervous you become. you don't understand why and that only frustrates you more until it feels a little like your whole system is about to fail.

In the back yard, Louisa told you.

Louisa said it was okay to talk to Ellie, to want to talk to her, no reason to feel bad about it. Nevertheless, you stop before the turn to the back yard and look at the pebbles that make that crunching sound, which reminds you that you really want this.

But why do you feel so bad about wanting this?

new friendships are a good thing? yes, Hazel doesn't like her and she is probably a problem case in the church, but that is nothing world-changing.

your back finds the wall of the building and you breathe in and out quickly.

you are worried that if you turn here now you will just walk past her. Out of fear of her, of you, and of the rejection. Your breathing becomes heavier in your lungs. Panic, which you know all too well, spreads inside you and your hand goes to your chest.

"What the fuck is wrong with me?“

"yeah what is wrong with you dude"

you flinch and worry whether you have broken something, even though that is impossible in any universe.

"fuck"

you support yourself on your knees, immersed in shock, and eye the converse of Ellie, who is standing next to you.

"you good?"

"yes, jesus"

That came out a little harsher than you intended and the girl's eyes narrow for a second.

"sorry- you just scared me"

you lean against the wall again. you are sure that Ellie will go away now, but you hear her shoes stop right next to you.

"sorry, it wasn't intentional, what are you doing here?"

you don't know that either.

"I don't know"

you put your hands in your cardigan and look the auburn-haired girl in the eyes.

She is now leaning against the wall next to you.

"That's cool" the silence and the eye contact almost kills you, until you notice that Ellie is experimenting with something in her hands.

"Ellie, you can't smoke here! you shouldn't smoke at all"

Ellie giggles loudly and licks the paper to finish rolling the cigarette. Your gaze falls on her tongue and its movements but you quickly turn back to the front, feeling dizzy now.

Okay? That was... weird?

you thought.

"Nobody dies because of a little smoking"

"You would be surprised" you say and watch as she lights the cigarette.

It looks relaxing. Not as scary and evil as you always imagined, it almost looks magical.

"You never smoked before?"

Disbelief in her voice.

You giggle and relax your shoulders.

"not so common at a Christian school, I once went to a party with Mia. There were lots of joints and cigarettes, but I never got any closer to the stuff"

"it's awesome, and you can buy it if you want. 18 and your parents can't really tell you shit"

Your mother's face appears in your vision and the feeling of shame spreads again.

"yes, they can..."

Ellie takes a drag on the cigarette and looks at you again.

Softer and more curious.

"fuck, you take this actually serious"

"yeah, what else should I do? A lot of people aren't here for fun, Ellie"

"yes, I can imagine, Dina takes it serious too"

Now she looks like the same person you remember meeting. Much more serious and proud. A little brave too.

"who's Dina?"

Ellie kicks a few stones with her shoe and her expression doesn't really tell you much.

"nobody. isn't important, but she takes it seriously."

You nod and respect her boundaries even if it's the last thing you want to do.

"You don't?"

"Fuck no" she laughs, but the wall that she has built up for herself for so long and with so much effort, is crumbling.

You could see and hear it. Her eyebrows frown and her voice was like a silky purr.

"Ellie- I know it's none of my business but why-"

"What do you think, doll? Ha, you remind me of a doll"

That distracts you.

You turn to her with a grin. "How do I remind you of a doll?"

the physical openness surprised Ellie, but she happily accepted it. she turned around and grins at you.

"quiet and pretty. but like, porcelain pretty as if you had been painted."

Holy shit.

you curse yourself for having said that, but it is the only thing that does justice to your feelings right now. your face gets warm and you can’t help but smile at that. You probably look dumb with that stupid grin on your face. No one ever said something like that so casually to you and your not sure if you wanted anyone else, but Ellie to be the one who does.

But it is a nice tingling sensation.

as if soft feathers were brushing against your skin.

"so what do you think I'm doing here?"

The nervous feeling visits you again but it is more caring than before, less careful.

"I'm sure you did something. I'm just not sure what exactly, but it must be bad, right?"

you actually just wanted to joke but Ellie's face turns gloomy again and she takes another puff of her rolled cigarette.

"maybe? I'm not really sure myself, it didn't feel wrong."

Confused, you watch her, her face, her tousled hair and her hand holding the poison, she is probably addicted to but cannot resist.

"Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak."

"What?"

You giggle at her confusion, but immediately explain what you mean.

"Temptations are common in the Bible. And in the world too. They are everywhere even if we cannot see or feel them."

You both look forward now instead of at each other because that seems more pleasant. The green trees were barely visible now. At least not the leaves. The trunk was still there.

"But how do you know it's a temptation?"

Lost and maybe even confusion appear in Ellie's deep voice. Your heart breaks a little, like the first time you saw your grandpa cry.

"I believe that if it harms you or others, it is a clear sin. biblical and moral," you explain.

"There are rules... many." You add uncomfortable

Ellie nods at your words, not like you do with Hazel. She means it seriously and she listens.

"I know."

"So what did you do?"

She seems confused for a moment, but then memory flashes across her face and she looks straight ahead again.

"I kissed someone."

"You kissed someone?" You repeat slowly, grinning slightly.

That's not so bad.

"Well I kissed someone and got caught... doing something else. But it's related."

You nervously play with the fabric of your cardigan.

"Okay?"

So she had sex?

Sin before marriage, But we can let that slide.

God, you could fill a damn library with all the stories you heard in your class, about girls who were caught with boys in their beds.

"She didn't get into trouble. I'm the only one here."

your brain clicks it all together quickly. God in heaven, you are naive. naive, stupid and careless.

"oh"

Ellie chuckles breathy.

"oh"

she emphasizes in the same shocked tone as you.

you swallow, noticing how dry your throat is. your back feels cold and hot at the same time for the first time in your life you understand what Edvard Munch meant by his god damned “the scream“ painting.

if Ellie wasn't standing right in front of you, you probably wouldn't look any different.

“Ellie I- that like a very big sin"

the pebble dances beneath her feet, as she turns away from you.

"no shit"

"wait I didn't-"

what didn't you? you said what you were supposed to say.

why the fuck do you feel like you need to add something to that. To have another conversation with her.

To look at her and pray that she's already looking at you. She stops with her back to you.

You've never been sure how to deal with irritable people. You couldn't do it with your sister or brother, with Hazel or anyone else.

"I-I don't know what to say. but I don't want you to leave"

Truths

Truths.

that's not a sin.

if you were to say something different to her now, Things you should normally say, you would be lying.

you wouldn't be any better.

7/21/2007

Reader pov:

6:40 a.m

The air is stuffy. Grossly stuffy and thick.

Before you even open your eyes you notice how bright it is and look at your clock on the bedside table.

6:41 a.m

You let out a sigh and you can hear the snoring of a few of the other girls. Even though you don't have to get up until 7:30 it's not worth going back to sleep or even trying.

The chances of it working are slim. You unintentionally go over last night again.

Ellie confesses that she kissed a girl. You reacted like a good Christian girl, but after a few seconds you felt so bad that you stopped her from leaving and pulled her back. You said that you don't hate her, but that it's not right according to God. Ellie seemed to find that a bit annoying, but she was no longer in rabies mode.

Then you ran. well, not really ran, but you quickly turned around and went back to the fire.

It all became too much and it happened too fast. Ellie look after you touched her arm and she reacted to your words.

Your face turned red out of shame and the thought, that she might notice, bothered you.

When you came back from the campfire, Ellie wasn't in bed or in the bathroom. You were a little worried, apparently Ellie is the kind of person who sometimes doesn't let herself be seen for a while.

You bend your head out of bed and look at the top bunk opposite. still empty.

"Fuck," you mumble, stressed now.

You slowly get your legs out of bed and for the first time in years you are glad that you always have to sleep in the bottom bunk.

The floor is ice cold, but the sun outside gives the room warm air.

As you try to get up, you stupidly bang your head on the wall of the bed above you.

"Shit!"

You hear a few pillows and blankets rustling for a moment, but then the usual morning silence returns.

You quickly grab your slippers, a cardigan, your MP3 player and your Nokia. You wash your face and teeth and try to tame your hair. When you're done, you standing lost in the hallway. Nobody seems to be awake.

You put your headphones on and play your playlist. It was a mix of The Killers and Coldplay, since luckily your parents didn't just show you 80s music.

All these things that I've done. You love this song.

You try to go down the stairs at the beat, but quickly realise that it's much too loud. You scurry past the boys' hallway and there isn't a soul either. Kate's boyfriend should have arrived last night. You hate Kate's boyfriend.

There are a few more people awake on the first floor, but you don't really want to start a conversation, so you try to scurry to the end of the hallway, past the common room and the dining room.

you've almost reached the door to freedom, when someone says your name.

Pastor Tobias. great.

"good morning, young lady" it always confuses you that he talks like he’s 50. he's only in his mid-30s.

"Hello Pastor Tobias, how are you this morning?"

the pastor comes closer.

"I feel especially blessed today"

you both laugh uncomfortably at his words.

"Are you on your way to pray in church? The church is already open, my morning prayers are very important to me."

"um..." actually that's not the reason, but then he would definitely not let you out. you make a mental note to stop by the church later. "Yes, exactly. Isn't that how you'd like your morning to start?"

The man nods in agreement and also... proudly?

"You could be a great worship leader one day… I don't want to hold you up. But please be back for breakfast, You know how time flies when you're praying."

Another unpleasant laugh and then you're through the door.

You arrive in the cold air, wearing only your short striped pj shorts, a spaghetti top and a green knit jacket. Your gaze glides over the large meadow.

Everything is exactly like yesterday, only with a lot more fog and a lot fewer people.

You love this hour of day. Everyone is about to wake up and you get a last look at the world, without loud noises, lots of people and tasks. As you walk across the meadow towards the lake, your non-waterproof shoes soak up the water from the meadow. Your legs start to freeze as well.

You pray that you won't have a cold tomorrow. You walk past the large church and the fireplace. Just as you are almost at the lake, you see a figure emerging from the grass walking towards you.

You recognize him immediately.

Caleb Thompson. You have known each other for years and your churches are very close to each other. Every year he is here, just like you, and every year Hazel tries to get a date with him or a phone number, anything.

You have the urge to either run back and pretend you never saw him or hide in the grass. Both are out of the question, as he is already far too close and has probably seen you.

"Don't come too close to me, psycho" - yes, you were expecting a reaction like that, but he likes to exaggerate. He takes two steps away from you.

"I haven't forgotten how sick you are, girl. Don't do anything stupid or I'll tell everyone what happened, I promise, bitch".

Your eyes widen, he walks past you with his arms protectively outstretched.

"It wasn't that bad, motherfucker"

- he stops and turns around.

"What did you just call me?" You stop too.

For years you've wanted to tell him how much of a fucked up person he really is, but for Hazel's sake you never did. But now you’re sure that they won’t end as a couple anyway.

"Motherfucker, Caleb. You're a real asshole"

- you say with your arms crossed.

His long, blonde hair lies in his face and looks pretty unkempt, as if he's been swimming at night and hasn't showered. "You cunt-"

He comes at you, you mentally prepare yourself. But an arm separates you and pushes him away.

"Jesus Caleb, calm down." You know that voice.

Her short reddish, brown hair is in a little braid this time and she still seems to be in her sleeping clothes.

"the fuck Ellie you don't know shit-"

"yeah but I also don't care about shit, I just know you shouldn't hit a girl. so please piss off"

he lets out a loud, annoyed breath like men always do and turns around, and if he wasn't walking on grass you would probably hear his stomping pretty well.

"you didn't have to do that"

Ellie's eyes meet yours for the first time since yesterday.

"yeah, but I still did. No matter how sweet your little ego is, that guy would have ripped you to pieces. no offens"

how much you want to tell her that that's not true and how shitty he is, how much he deserves it, but you don't.

"whatever"

"where are you going?"

the question surprises you. up until now you were obsessed with starting a conversation with Ellie, up until now it wasn't based on reciprocity.

If you weren’t nervous before, you sure as hell are now.

"to the lake" your voice is a bit quiet but she seems to have heard it, her gaze wanders behind you to the lake and she shrugs her shoulders.

"okay" then she walks past you towards the lake. you frown.

She looks over her shoulder.

"are you coming?"

"yeah!" you quickly try to keep up with her pace.

"what are you doing here so early?"

you ask her while walking quickly.

"actually I wanted to swim, but the water is so fucking cold"

"you swim? Like, professionally"

"when I was little I was in the swimming club for 3 years, but now I only swim when I want and can" she grinned at you.

your stomach tickles nervously.

"were you good"

she chuckles at you. "yes I was really fucking good"

a smile spreads across your lips and you follow her to the jetty. You sit down at the end of the long wooden path. you take off your shoes and put you legs in the water. "cold!"

Ellie giggles next to you. "told you"

you grin back and nudge her with your elbow. you are sitting so close that you can feel the warmth of her body on your arm.

Something’s not right. Something’s different. Different from when you talk to Hazel or Caleb or anyone. This feels like you belong somewhere. With her, as weird as that sounds since she’s someone who likes the same sex.

But then you remember, Your sister once spent a year abroad in Germany and brought you cactus popsicle. The tip of the ice, made a crackling sound in your mouth that was funny, unreal and ticklish. you laughed the whole evening at the reactions of your family members. that's exactly how it feels right now.

like German cactus popsicle.

You dare to look at Ellie.

she is also wearing pjs pants and a white tank top with a grey hoodie jacket over it. her hair is imperceptibly and tousled probably from being limp, but you find it kind of cute.

Ellie is always so serious and sarcastic, but you are sure she is a bit softer and more sensitive, than she likes to show.

This "look" shows you that again. She’s just a girl too, a very complicated and chaotic girl.

"why don't you swim anymore?" you ask her.

"Joel said I took it too seriously back then, now that I think about it, he was probably right."

Ellie's playfully kicks the water like a stone on the road.

"who's Joel?"

she gives you a quick glance to the side.

"my adoptive father."

"oh" you try to suppress the surprise in your voice but it doesn't work.

"did he send you here?"

you hope you're not asking too many personal questions, but Ellie doesn't seem to mind.

"no, that was my aunt and uncle, I'm here for the summer while Joel is enjoying his life on the coast of Malibu . Oregon really sucks compared to Malibu."

you nod thoughtfully.

"what is he doing in Malibu? … and what are you doing here and not in Malibu?"

"Honeymoon. my old man is just married, but Tess is really sweet, I like her"

"Tess, pretty name" you reply.

"yes, the wedding was nice, I even got to play the guitar for Take on Me" another fulfilled smile appears on her face as she watches the water.

Ellie has lots of things that make her happy and feel good. No matter how broken the pastor thinks she is, it's not true. She is one of the most complete people you have ever seen.

"I can play the piano" you grin at her surprised reaction.

"Piano, huh? I tried to learn it once, but it's too complicated for me, I'll stick with guitars. Huge respect though doll"

the nickname she gives you, makes you feel warm, your heart jumps excited and the trust you give her feels good. Safe.

"yes, my mother forced me to learn it as a child so that I could play for the choir, so please don't laugh at me if I have to do that here too."

"I would never laugh at you. Especially not because of something impressive"

now you obviously turn your head towards her. For a few seconds you just look at each other, as if you had to upgrade each other's bodies and faces all over again.

"You’re very Sweet Ellie."

The girl's freckles are affected by the redness of her face and she looks away again. You want to talk about yesterday, you can't really get last night out of your head.

"About yesterday..."

Now she shakes her head quickly.

"Just forget it. I know what you think about it... but I don't want it to stand between us. You're much too nice, please just forget it."

You can hear her impatience but also her fear.

"It doesn't bother me." You reply softly

"What?"

It breaks your heart how surprised she is. How much she expects the hate and rejection.

John 15:12: My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you.

"I don't really mind it. however you feel about this or about yourself it doesn't matter. you are made of love Ellie."

You have never felt this wise in your entire life, and never more like yourself too.

"that was so cheesy holy shit"

you bump your shoulder hard against hers, laughing.

"fuck you"

just as you were about to sit down a bit more comfortable you fidget a bit trying to find a comfortable position, as Ellie bumps her shoulder so hard into yours, at such a wrong moment that you were in the water in three seconds. You fail and try to hold on to her, but pull her in with you.

The cold water embraces your body unexpected. Your clothes absorb the water so quickly, that as soon as you reach the surface your cardigan is as heavy as stone.

Luckily you put your phone and your mp3 player out of your pocket before whatever this is happened.

You gasp loudly and the cold that takes over your face turns your cheeks a fiery red.

"Ellie what the fuck-"

You admit, you actually intended to be mad, her clumsiness got you into cold water but she just laughs loud. Your arms slide slowly in rhythm to your sides and keep you above water.

"I'm so sorry really but-"

she starts laughing again.

You are sure that she will wake up the whole camp with her laughter. Grinning, you swim over to her.

"Okay Ellie calm down. You’re gonna drown from Laughing-„

Splashes of water land in your face and you let out a little scream. The other girl looks you over teasingly and moves away.

"You're so done"

In a matter of seconds a shaft of water starts and all you can hear is the loud splashing of the water and the screaming of two girls.

splash

Water in Ellie's face, but she manages to protect herself with her arms.

splash

Water hits your face for the third time and you laugh and squeeze your eyes shut.

"Okay, I give up," you gasp.

"Yeah, you better,"

Ellie Chuckles, also completely soaked.

You look at her.

Her wet hair is stickt to her cheeks and she has this grin that would make you do anything. And she's funny, so damn funny. And beautiful, especially now. She's like salt water. She's like the sea. Wild and grumpy and salty. When you're with her, you feel the way you do when you hear a really good song for the first time.

"You okay?"

You quickly leave your thoughts behind and nod at her.

"Never been better,"

she laughs. To your surprise, she then lets herself float on the surface of the water. Her arms outstretched and her eyes closed. You do the same and the both of you lie next to each other.

Her pointed fingers lightly brush against yours.

She’s Like salt water. As soon as you notice it, it starts to burn and you want to wash it off straight away.

To all the closeted queer people in church; you matter and you’re a real icon. There are more gays in religious spaces than you think!!! Try finding each other, it helps a lot!! Spend time with the people who love and enjoy who you are ❤️ ( GAYYYY)

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG FORGIVE ME

Taglist: @elliewilliamgfooc @a-little-bit-of-everybody @vqxen @hersuniverse @nelzooo @shiimer @bready101

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konigbabe · 8 months

Text

the great war

DAY 3 ⇢ Hate Sex Pairing: Satoru Gojo x fem!curse user!reader Word count: 4k Tags/warnings: no y/n; smut; hate sex; timejump (2007 → 2018); lovers to enemies vibes; angst; lots of self-loating; pronebone; p-in-v; angry (??) Gojo; unreliable narrator Summary: When the news of Suguru Geto's death reach your ears, the weapon in your grasp guides you to the place where the cause lies - to Satoru Gojo. [Part of NSFW Gojo Week 2023]. Divider is mine.

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His palm presses firmly between your shoulder blades, a commanding touch that demands submission, while his other hand clamps onto your hips, fingers digging into the curves of your flesh with just the right amount of pressure.

September 2007

Buddhists believe that life is filled with suffering and misery. That death, in the end, is not a singular event, but rather a fundamental contribution to the misery of human existence.

It was a doctrine you refused to believe in. Spending days by the side of fellow sorcerers, suffering and misery rarely crossed your mind. It wasn't that you were naive or ignorant – quite the contrary. As a sorcerer-in-training, you were acutely aware of the dangers and horrors that lurked in the shadows. Cursed spirits, malevolent curses, and the constant struggle to protect the oblivious, helpless civilians were all part of your reality.

However, you clung to an alternative belief – that while suffering is an inherent aspect of life, whether it leads to misery rests entirely within your control –

Among your companions, your unwavering optimism often stood out. While others carried the weight of their pasts and the darkness of their experiences, you chose to embrace hope and resilience. This outlook didn't make you blind to the reality of suffering; rather, it gave you the strength to confront it head-on. At least you had something to hold on to.

– How stupid of you.

With Satoru's chest pressed firmly against your back, you watch the night sky unfold its kaleidoscope of stars above you. It's not often that the night is quiet; when even the stars shine through the clouds of haze and graze you with their gentle glow.

Arms casually thrown over your shoulders, his sharp chin digs into the crown of your head as he looks up at the sky. Your face tucked into the crook of his elbow.

Suguru leans against the railing to your right. Uniform rumpled, hair a cascade of frowzled strands; your eyes shamelessly roam over his face – pale (more than usual, and even more visible against the obsidian backdrop of the night), eyes staring vacantly forward, a well of shadows pooling beneath.

His appearance resembles a spectral apparition. Haunting reflection of the turmoil that seems to have taken residence within him. Events from the past emerge into your mind – Tengen' merger, Amanai's death, Toji, Gojo's enlightenment and the last piece, Haibara's tragic end.

Satoru's hand reaches to gently cradle yours, fingertips tracing the contours of the simple, polished ring adorning your finger. A single aquamarine gemstone decorating the silver band, its shape resembling a tear. His touch so soft and tender that it feels almost imperceptible.

"Hey," Satoru's voice tears you from your thoughts. Suguru's eyes dart to yours, a brief contact before he looks at Satoru, "are you even listenin'?"

("So you never thought ‘bout it?" Suguru's head sinks heavily onto his arms, the once-pristine white shirt now marred by wear of time and crinkled as he sits against the classroom wall. Class ended almost an hour ago, with Satoru leaving by Shoko's side to grab lunch.

"I mean," you release a deliberate sigh, ankles crossed on top of your desk with arms folded over your chest, "it might be an option," rising one hand, you point a finger at him, "but it's evil. And unreachable. Like c'mon," you flick your wrist dismissively, "we're talking about a worldwide genocide."

"Not worldwide, just Japan."

A derisive chuckle escapes your lips, laden with incredulity, upon hearing his words. "Just Japan," you look at your classmate, close friend, "are you hearing yourself, Suguru?"

He gazes up at you, eyes heavy with weariness and emptied of their usual vibrancy. The burden of his thoughts etched onto his face.

"Suguru," your tone drops, voice becoming a mere whisper; the man before your eyes being close to a delicate thread on the verge of snapping, "are you holding up okay?"

"No.")

"Yeah, yeah," you murmur into his skin, returning his touch and caressing his wrist.

"As I was sayin'," your eyes return to Suguru momentarily before flicking to the horizon of darkness stretching above the school's grounds, "once we finally graduate and I become the head of my clan, we could use my estate as our home. Then we can make loads of babies. Pretty sure my father would be pleased if I had a son."

"It's not your estate," you correct Satoru.

"It's a Gojo estate. And I'm a Gojo. The one with Six eyes and the future leader," his fingers sneak under your chin, gripping the soft flesh of your neck to tilt your head to the side and up, gently straining your neck so that you're compelled to look at him. Eyes the same hue of a tranquil ocean under the moonlight.

"I'll put in the work," his tone turns into a whisper, a murmur that wraps around your body like a velvet night, shielding your conversation from intruding ears – including Suguru, who's standing barely an arm's reach away. The man who now feels like an outsider to the intimate exchange of his friends, "get you all full and happy. You won't leave the bedroom until you go into labor."

It's not his words that render you speechless. Immobile. Mouth slightly ajar. Nor the promise they carry, or the weight of the commitment. It's solely the look in his eyes. As if this man truly believes his words. That he sees this not as an equal partnership, but you as the vessel for his legacy, a mother to his progeny, a means to secure his lineage.

The jujutsu society has carved a mark deep within Satoru Gojo's psyche, even if it's been only a subconscious influence.

"Satoru,"a subtle frown creases your forehead, despite the way his words ignite a fire between your legs, make your pussy throb, "I'm not a breed–"

"Some people believe that the stars are the souls of the people who've passed on," Suguru's words cut through the exchange. Pulling your eyes towards his profile, seeing as he continues to watch the night sky, hands tucked away in his pockets. A gentle smile graces his face.

While you're thankful for his precisely timed intervention, Satoru sneaks a hand onto your abdomen, resting in inside your muff pocket with palm squeezing the soft flesh over the clothes. He releases a theatrical breath, capturing the attention of both of you.

"Way to ruin the mood, Suguru," he adds after a while.

"I think there might be some truth to that," you offer a small, appreciative smile.

In the days that follow your conversation, a dark cloud of dread casts its shadow over your every moment, only fueled by the devastating news of Suguru's most recent mission. After that, each moment's laden with a sense of impending unease. As if the future has already been foretold – only a matter of time before the summons arrives, the call to a meeting that you can already taste like the metallic tang of apprehension on your tongue.

Stepping into the room, it's not just the mission that settles heavily upon your shoulders; it's the weight of an unspoken truth that hangs in the air, casting a pall over the proceedings. Staring upon the silver band encircling your finger, cutting off the flow of blood, it's the revelation that has changed everything for you.

The task assigned to you appeared simple, straightforward, presented with a cold and calculated logic: Kill Suguru Geto and return within fourteen days.

(Reality has a way of deviating from the plans made.

It is why you never came back.)

Early 2018

The ghost of Suguru Geto hovers over you like a specter in the periphery of your thoughts. Especially when you stand in front of the man you've avoided for almost a decade.

There's no solid reason for you to be here. In Satoru Gojo's overly expansive, unnecessarily spacious penthouse. His ignorance to wealth and what's necessary versus what's superfluous still glaringly obvious. Especially with his current job; one that back in the day, back when you were all still students, wouldn't even cross his mind.

You weren't entirely certain if he'd be here today. Tonight. Tracking his movements, they'd always end within the barrier of Tokyo's Jujutsu Tech. A barrier that, if crossed, would result in your immediate arrest and subsequent execution. And despite your occasional recklessness, you had no death wish to speak of.

"That's why you're here?" Gojo's glasses now replaced by a black blindfold, folded around his neck. His eyes, shining even in the dim lighting, twinkle with raging stars when they shift to the weapon in your hand, sensing its foreign cursed energy that overwhelms even your own, "to kill me?"

A sardonic snicker escapes you, your laughter bordering mockery as you respond, "Come on, Gojo. Don't get foolish now. I can't kill you."

With a touch of exasperation, you add, "No one can."

"Then why're you here," he demands, his presence commanding the room. Uniform jacket already cast aside, the white button-up shirt partially undone, showing the contours of his clavicles. Time and age have done the sorcerer good; with gained knowledge, he also gained the physicality of experience. Something that creates longing – desire for the past that surges through you. A tidal wave of yearning. A wish that you stayed; that you were there, by his side, witnessing his transformation.

(Could it be the grip of regret? The sting of rue? Perhaps. But the past already happened, ensnared within the grasp on time's flow; its passing moments already etched into the annals of history. Dwelling on it now serves no purpose but to churn the tempestuous sea of emotions.

The sea whose waves are starting to crash against the rocky shores of the present.)

"You disappeared years ago. Without a word. Not even a goddamn ‘Goodbye'."

You watch his cold, distant façade crumble, anger seeping through the cracks as he waves one hand, advancing with measured steps, "I looked for you. Scoured every inch of Japan. For you. Where in the world were you?"

Gojo's eyes blaze with molten determination; boring into your soul, seeking answers you're hesitant, almost reluctant, to provide. Doubt lingers in the air like a heavy, suffocating fog, clouding the once familiar connection between you two.

A connection that you severed with a violent, rapid stroke, leaving nothing but shattered remnants in its wake.

"You had no right to do that," he seethes, words dripping with indignation.

"You are the one to talk," you return his anger, the relentless tide crashing against unyielding cliffs, "you killed him. You killed Suguru, Gojo."

His face contorts with fury, a wildfire raging behind his eyes. The air crackles with tension as your words cut deep, reopening wounds that had never truly healed.

It's then that the distance between you two narrows until he's almost within reach; enough for your fist to connect with him. Fully aware that it would never actually reach him. His flesh. That you won't feel the warmth of his skin. With the jutte sword's blade facing you, fist tightening around the leather handle, you hit and hit a void.

"You killed my friend," your voice trembles with a mixture of sorrow and rage, teeth sinking into your lower lip. The side of your fist repeatedly collides with empty air – it's a cruel dance, truly – a void that fills the space between Gojo and you, a chasm that feels as vast as the abyss, "my friend. Suguru. You killed him–took him away."

Your eyes lock onto his, a desperate search for answers, while Gojo remains a silent and immovable figure. Face resembling carved marble – all solid, perfect yet devoid of any emotion. Letting you spill your anger onto him. You observe as the brilliance in his eyes wanes, those once-vivid blue hues, reminiscent of a precious topaz, gradually losing their luster, darkening, and becoming more reflective of a human's ordinary iris.

Your fist meets the muscle of his chest.

"I hate you," one, two times your fist hits, "I hate you so much, Gojo."

Then his fingers slither around your wrist, twisting it painfully until the loud clank against the floor indicates that your weapon has slipped from your grasp.

"I know," his voice remains monotonous; a mere echo.

He advances, closing the distance between you, his presence a relentless force pressing against you. Eyes a tempest of longing; a tangible aura of desperation that shouldn't flicker across his stoic countenance. All you want to do is stab the look out of his eyes. Gauge it out with your fingers. Stealing away what he so callously takes for granted –

Maybe then he will stop being blind to his surroundings.

– just as he robbed you of your childhood friend. Someone you considered a brother.

"I hate myself too." It's all he mumbles, his voice a barely audible confession, before his lips crash into yours. A tumultuous collision. His hands are everywhere, grasping your shoulders, trailing down your arms, and gripping your hips with an urgency that borders on desperation. Pushing and pulling; body pressed against yours.

Gojo's tongue sweeps over your teeth, the wet tip coaxing yours, drawing forth moan after moan from you, hungrily swallowing every sound you release, trying to quench an insatiable thirst that only your moans can satisfy.

The kiss ravenous, consuming – it makes you unable to resist the magnetic pull of his ardor.

When your name slips between his lips, the reality crashes onto you. Pulling away, you look into his blazing eyes. Lips bruised and swollen, shirt somehow unbuttoned. Showing the contours and hard edges of his chest and abdomen. The scar across his whole upper body, though healed, remains visible. Body sculpted into perfection by years of determined training.

Your hand reaches forward. Fingertips tingling with the longing to make contact, to savor the tactile sensation. And Gojo stands still, a hand resting on your hip, molding your form against the sturdy frame of the couch. Your thighs caught between his, pressed against the velvety embrace of the dark brown upholstery.

Both of your disheveled hairdos mirror the chaos, intensity of the moment, framing your faces with unruly tendrils. Eyes fixated upon his body, hesitating to meet his eyes. Your arm extends more. An outstretched limb seeking connection.

His scrutinizing eyes trace the landscape of your face – witnessing as time stripped away the youthful, once-cheerful smile that had once adorned your lips. Now swollen, hardened lines with two delicate, faint marks traversing your upper lip – a scar. Curiosity gnaws on him, wondering of its origin. If whatever caused it might've been circumvented if you'd stayed.

If you had stayed.

(Maybe if he searched more thoroughly. Fought with greater determination…)

Your hand jerks back. Recoils as if touched by scorching heat. Gaze turning into a torrential downpour as it locks onto his, a deepening frown carving lines across your brow.

"No," he swears he hears you mutter to yourself, lips finding refuge at the juncture of his clavicles. Hands slipping beneath the satin shirt, clenching the taut muscle of his shoulders. One leg draped across his hip, you grind against his thigh without reservation, embracing the sensation of friction against your clothed core, the fabric beginning to absorb your burgeoning desire.

"What–"

"Just fuck me," you nibble at the skin, voice thick with passion, teeth sinking into the flesh and pulling, causing the man to hiss, "fuck me, Gojo."

He grips your jaw. A touch both benevolent and directing. Pulls you off his neck, compelling you to confront the storm of his eyes. Vortex of unspoken emotions. A cyclone of pure desire and passing hesitation. His thumb and index finger press into the soft flesh of your cheekbones, compressing the pliant contours until your lips pucker and part.

"I hate you," you manage to utter, the words emerging as a strained whisper through clenched teeth.

In the ensuing moment, Gojo acknowledges your declaration with a solemn nod, a silent recognition.

"Good," he then pivots you in one fluid motion. Hands finding purchase on the couch's armrests. Gone is the restraint he's maintained until now. He doesn't hold back. Not anymore, not when you made it abundantly clear how you feel; what you want.

Fingers seeking the buttons on your pants, swiftly unzipping the zipper and tugging both your pants and undergarments down your thighs. Until they lock your knees together. His fingers graze your folds and you feel him hiss under his nose. Fingertip tracing your opening, feeling the slippery wetness, Gojo doesn't hesitate to push one finger in.

And your body eagerly sucks him in. Allows him to thrust his finger in and out repeatedly, making your fingers dig into the cushion, lips parted and shamelessly moaning with hips bucking back, meeting his thrusts. Until he adds another finger, scissors them inside and opens you up.

"Fuck," you hear him breathe out, his hand sneaking from your shoulder blades to your hip, venturing beneath your shirt to caress the exposed skin, "you always sound so pretty. Feel so good."

"Shut up," you scoff at his words, voice laced with disdain, "just–ugh," his fingers curl inside, massaging your walls in harmony with the hand on your hip, tracing tantalizing circles, "ah–just don't–don't talk," and you arch your hips backward, prompting his fingers to delve deeper. Palm completely covering your soaked cunt.

"Don't care," you add when he continues the rhythm. In and out, stretching the limits of your resilience, scissoring to accommodate something far more substantial.

"As you wish," he withdraws. Fingers glistening with your juices. And you can feel the dewy slickness spreading as he toys with your pulsating clit, circling the throbbing bud, causing you to clench around empty air. Every nerve ending in your body awakens, dormant embers being stoked; heat blooming inside.

Then he presses himself against you, hands grasping your shoulder to pull you onto his body as he hovers over you. The close proximity allowing you to feel the hard length of him, thick and pushy, begging for entry.

"Stop teasing," you practically growl at him, an annoyed command laden with unrestrained desire.

"Fine," Gojo lets out a husky huff in response to your impatient plea. Pushing your upper body down, nearly bending you over the plush cushion until your forehead meets the silky surface of his furniture. You can hear the unmistakable sound of him unzipping his own pants, the slide of the zipper seemingly never-ending as your pussy leaks onto your thighs, mind of its own; tugs them down just enough for him to fish out his cock. All hard and swollen, the engorged tip glistening with the telltale evidence of his arousal.

One hand palms your pussy, collecting your juices to spread over his cock. Lube it enough for him to slip inside your awaiting walls easily. Yet he hovers over your entrance, tip kissing the opening before running between your folds. Gojo lets out a sigh upon the long-lost feeling of your wet pussy.

It's been too long.

He wants to savor it. Savor the moment your drenched pussy opens up just for him. Swallows him whole and lock him in, never letting him go.

"Gojo," you push back, hoping that maybe it will cause him to slip in – it doesn't. Instead, the tip of his cock probs at your clit, "fuck me."

"You never shut up, heh," his hand secures the back of your neck, the other guiding his cock to your entrance, feeling you open up around the mushroom head, letting a satisfied moan out upon the feeling.

Gojo doesn't bother. At least he shouldn't, right? It's not like he's your lover. You aren't his paramour no more.

But he does take his time. Every inch a struggle, every second a torture. Until finally you feel yourself split open, the tightest of knots unraveling, and then he's thrusting deep, pushing into you with force. Your body welcomes him, contouring to his shape, embracing him fully. His breath comes out in a rush and you're soon meeting him thrust-for-thrust, hips pushing back.

Blood rushes to your head; bend at an unconventional enough angle that allows him to hit the deepest spots inside you. He pulls back then, his cock easily sliding out of your embrace until only the tip remains inside the cocoon of your warmth. Stretching your inner walls in a way that makes you feel dizzy, mind foggy. Fucked stupid.

Your moans are muffled by the couch cushion, but Gojo pays no attention; his focus solely on chasing his own high, eyes closed to draw your presence out. His thrusts become more powerful and insistent as each one hits its mark with precision.

Your name refuses to leave his lips.

Yet his name sounds like a sacred incantation spilling from your throat.

It makes him push. Hips slamming into yours with enough force to actually send you over the couch's edge; causing you to stumble.

"What the f–"

"Lie down," he commands. Stone-cold and demanding. Your body moves on its own accord as you do what you're told, lying flat on your stomach as his hand guides your body up his couch. Face sinking into the decorative pillows, he lies his weight on top of you without shame. Elbow resting next to your head, fingers tangled in your hair – pushing your face into the pillows.

Slamming his cock back inside, a surprised shriek leaves your lips. His legs on either side of your thighs, one arm holding his upper body slightly off you, the other gripping your hip, fingers biting crescent moons into your flesh.

His breath's hot against your neck, coming out in quick gasps and grunts, the growl in his throat driving you wild and you're not sure how much longer you can take it before you beg for it –

"Fuuck–so tight–ngh–"

His hand is everywhere while yours remain tucked underneath the pillows; nails tracing their way around sensitive skin and curves like a map of pleasure points.

– so you bite your lip. Face flushed against the couch's cushions. Feeling yourself cresting towards the edge. He hitches a breath as your moan’s muffled beneath the pillows, his own rhythm faltering before he plunges deeper.

"M’gettin’ close–"

You can feel the heat radiating from him, sweat dripping down your neck as he takes you higher, presses his forehead against your nape. Heat rises to your face as you feel yourself dripping. Acutely aware of yourself, the slick, shameful squelches that resonate each time Gojo plunges deep inside. Buries himself to the hilt. Pelvis melting with the curve of your ass. Smacks his balls against your thighs.

The air feels thick and stifling as you feel Gojo everywhere. Your entire being consumed by the feverish desire coursing through your veins.

His thrusts become more intense, almost frenzied as he searches for something only he knows and finds it in your body. You're so close now, the pleasure so sweet that it's almost overwhelming.

You swear it feels like an eternity before finally your orgasm rushes over you like an unstoppable tide; overwhelming every single one of your senses as he continues to thrust deep within you. Your entire body quaking beneath him, pulled even closer into him by some invisible force.

Gojo finally lets go with a loud groan and collapses onto your back; leaving him panting heavily against your neck while his cock remains firmly embedded inside of you for a few moments more, painting your walls in translucent white before slowly slipping out with a wet sound akin to pure satisfaction.

You lay there unmoving for some time; eyes closed and lips pressed tight together as if to contain all the pleasure of this moment forevermore in one single solitary heartbeat – before reality comes crashing back in around you both in an instant, making Gojo pull away.

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tomssexdoll · 1 month

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Haii :3 no clue if you already did this or not..but can you do a Bill Kaulitz smut fic of like Bill having a crush on the reader in class and they get assigned a project to work together on & they decide to do it at Bills house and end up doing the freaky freak freak 👅👅👅🔥🔥🔥

OOO YES

crush

PAIRINGS: Bill 2007 x Female reader

CONTENT: FLUFF + SMUT

SYPNOSIS: Bill has a MASSIVE crush on y/n and has for years, one day the teacher announces that she would be pairing them up for a group project, Bill hoped to be paired with y/n and was surprised when he was, multiple opportunities racing through his head. Y/N goes to Bill's house to complete and tension is filled in the air then they freak duh

A/N: this photo omg.

WARNINGS: dom!bill, sub!reader, p in v (missionary), fingering

I've had a crush on this girl called y/n for years, she transferred to our school in 2nd grade and when I first layed my eyes on her, I was in love. She had such beautiful features, beautiful doe eyes, silky smooth hair and smelled amazing.

Throughout the years I've been trying to get her attention, sometimes she'd laugh at the jokes I made, any little bit of attention she gave me made me fall for her even more.

The teacher announced in class that we'd be having a group project and that she'd he picking the pairs. I crossed my fingers, praying for it to be Y/N.

She called out the last set of pairs and my head flew up as I heard "y/n and Bill", I tried to act cool on the outside and I sat next to her casually, but inside I was freaking the fuck out, she was so beautiful up close, her eyes hypnotizing.

"Do you want to come to my house after school and complete it?" I said, stumbling over my words, her presence making me super flustered. She nodded and smiled brightly "of course! I'll meet you at the school gates at 3pm and we can walk together" her smile could make anyones day better, she was such a smart and kind girl, always caring for others.

We continued to talk for the rest of the lesson, getting to know each other. I was so mesmerised by her, staring at her in awe.

As the end of the school day rolled by, I saw Y/N waiting for me at the school entrance, her beautiful hair flowing in the wind. "Hey gorgeous" I smirked, tapping her shoulder. She turned around and blushed softly, "hey! Let's go!" she grabbed my arm and started to walk.

I noticed as we walked she was slightly shivering, the cold air getting to her. "Hey..take this" I smiled and took my jacket off, wrapping it around her shoulders, the black leather complimenting her.

"Oh! Thanks..." she chuckled nervously, obviously flustered. I grinned to myself, everything was going so well.

As we arrived to my house, I brought her to my room and set out all the things we needed. We laid on the bed and worked on the project, researching and discussing the topic, our teacher made us do our assignment about rocks and it was so boring.

After a while we took a break, watching a movie. I slowly wrapped my arms around her shoulder, pulling her a bit closer. Out of the corner of my eye I saw as she smiled softly, resting her head on me.

During the movie I placed my hand on her thigh softly, my thumb running the skin. "What are you doing?" She suddenly spoke up, my eyes widened and I retracted my hand "sorry! I just...I" I stuttered, scared that I had taken things too far.

"oh no it's ok Bill!" She giggled and kissed my cheek softly, wrapping her arms around my waist and resting her head on my chest.

I felt my cheeks get hotter, I had never been this close to her before. I noticed my pants tightening a little bit. 'Shit shit shit not now!' I thought to myself, hoping she wouldn't notice.

She moved her arm a little and brushed over my erection, earning a small gasp out of me. She turned her head up to me, a look of concern plastered on her pretty face "what's wrong? Did I do something?" she pouted, I chuckled and shook my head "no..uh..it's nothing" she nodded and sighed, moving her arm again and noticing the mountain in my pants.

"Bill..are you...?" She looked back at me again, her eyes wide. I sighed and nodded in defeat "I'm sorry gorgeous I just... I can't help it...you're so-" suddenly, I was interrupted by a soft kissed being placed on my lips.

My eyes widened in shock, slithering my hand around the back of her head and kissing her passionately. "Mm.." she moaned into the kiss, palming my cock.

I kissed her harder, my lips continuously smashing into hers as her hands teased my clothed cock.

My hands fell down to her hips, lifting her delicate body and flipping us over, her underneath me. I rubbed my hard cock against her leg, unbuttoning her shirt and slowly taking it off to reveal her black lacey bra, "fuck.." my lips made their way to her chest and neck, kissing and sucking softly.

"you're so beautiful" I murmured against her skin, my hands trailing to her back, she arched her back and I fiddled with her bra, clipping it off and revealing her gorgeous tits. I groaned softly and latched onto one of her nipples, sucking sweetly.

Soft moans escaped her lips as her back arched higher, I slipped my fingers down her shorts and into her panties, finding her wet folds and rubbing up and down, teasing her.

"fuck...Bill..." she whimpered "put then in.." she looked up at me, her eyes desperate and urgent, I smirked and slowly slipped 2 digits into her, stretching her pussy out. "Oh fuck!" she moaned softly as I curled my fingers against her g spot, "so tight...gotta make you ready for me..." I kissed her roughly, thrusting harder.

I felt her hands scratch at my back, the pain weirdly pleasuring, making my cock ache for her. "So hard for you baby..need to be inside you" I moaned into her ear, my breath hot against her neck.

"Please...I need you" she winced, her hands flying to my pants, tugging them down. I helped her and pulled them off, along with my boxers.

She stared in shock at my length, "is that gonna fit?" her eyes darting to mine, I chuckled "don't worry baby, we can stop if it's too much" I kissed her neck softly, pulling her shorts and panties in a swift move.

I aligned myself at her entrance, slowly pushing in and stretching her out more, "a-ah!" she moaned loudly, digging her nails in my back again, this time way harsher. I knew she would leave a mark but it was so worth it, having her here with me was all I ever wanted.

I finally bottomed out, retracting my hips and slamming back into her, creating quite a harsh pace. Snapping my hips forward to pound into her hole, my tip drilling into her sweet spot.

Her moans were like music to my ears, sweet melodies I could listen to forever. She held onto me tightly, legs wrapping around my waist and pulling me closer.

She leaned forward and kissed my neck softly, leaving little marks everywhere. "I've liked you for years y/n..you're so fucking sexy, so caring and kind" I grunted, slamming my hips into hers.

She smiled softly, "i-mm...i've liked you too..f-fuck..for a long time.." she said, speaking to the best of her abilities, my cock slamming in and out of her didn't make things any better.

I chuckled, "that's all I need to hear baby" I reached my hand down, tracing soft circles on her clit "cum f'me baby..be a good girl" I muttered, my thrusts getting faster, eager for my release.

I felt tension building up in my stomach and with a tight clench of her pussy I shot my cum into her, coating her walls with my thick load.

I continued to thrust into her, her orgasm slowly approaching, her tight pussy teasing me immensley. "Fuckk!" she cried out, clenching tightly one more time and cumming all over my cock.

I fucked our highs out, a little ring of cum at the base of my cock, I slowly pulled out, our shared fluids dripping out slowly onto my bed.

I quickly grabbed a tissue from my nightstand and wiped her clean, laying beside her and holding her close, kissing the top of her head gently. "When are we going to finish that project?" she giggled, looking up at me, I shrugged "tomorrow, I want you to be in my arms for now, that's all that matters" kissing her gently.

"Did you mean it when you said you've liked me for years Bill?"

"Yes of course, I've liked you since the day I saw you, I've never liked anyone else" I chuckled, a little embarassed.

"Well, I thought of you as a friend for a while, until 7th grade, something just changed.." she sighed "you were just different to the other guys, more respectful, super kind and caring, the day you gave me your jacket when it was raining heavily is a memory I'll never forget" she smiled brightly, I tangled my fingers in her hair, playing with it "i'm glad you feel the same way, I can't believe it took us until our last year of high school to finally be where we are" I whispered sweetly in her ear, caressing her back with my other hand.

E/N: SORRY IF THIS IS BAD I'M JUST REALLY TIRED TONIGHT

tags: @tomscumdump @itsmealaiah

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poohsources · 1 year

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🐝 * ― 𝑩𝑹𝑶𝑲𝑬𝑵 𝑰𝑹𝑰𝑺 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺. ( all of these are taken from the album ‘the eyes of tomorrow’ released in 2007 and 'x lover' released in 2021. feel free to adjust to better fit your muses. )

❛ you're attempting to bore me. ❜ ❛ maybe we're all insane? ❜ ❛ i see you enjoy this. ❜ ❛ i'm feeling much better, my friend. ❜ ❛ never again will i give in. ❜ ❛ now fight, unless you're willing to die. ❜ ❛ this is the moment i've been waiting for. ❜ ❛ no doubt or fear, my view is now clear. ❜ ❛ i've never felt so alive. ❜ ❛ i still remember the way you said goodbye. ❜ ❛ no matter how hard i try, i can't forget about love. ❜ ❛ until the end of me, you'll be the death of me. ❜ ❛ i dare you to cross the line again. ❜ ❛ i'm waiting to be broken inside. ❜ ❛ nothing from the past ever happens quite the same. ❜ ❛ but i never expected that i'd underestimate my love for you. ❜ ❛ i guess i'll spend another lifetime searching for a new hope. ❜ ❛ it's impossible to look away. ❜ ❛ i'm astonished by your absolute beauty. ❜ ❛ set all your fears aside. ❜ ❛ is this the part where we start our lives? ❜ ❛ here comes the part where we start our lives. ❜ ❛ i feel i've already been here. ❜ ❛ so why does nothing make us wanna try? ❜ ❛ just one touch, you can change my mind. ❜ ❛ i can say the process is painless. that'd be a lie. ❜ ❛ i don't have the strength to let you go. ❜ ❛ deep within my soul, i've always known that you're everything i've ever needed. ❜ ❛ just say the words and i'm all yours. ❜ ❛ i'm scared to death of living this life without you. ❜ ❛ how can this be wrong when it feels so right? ❜ ❛ would you give me one more night? ❜ ❛ i'll show you everything that you've ever dreamed of. ❜ ❛ will you find your way home? ❜ ❛ don't give up on me, i'm giving this my everything. ❜ ❛ i still believe in you. ❜ ❛ i'll fight any war with you and for you. ❜ ❛ i wonder why i waited for you. ❜ ❛ there's not a harder thing a man can do than pretend he's not in love with you. ❜ ❛ i've been lost for a little while but i feel free. ❜

#rp meme #rp memes #rp prompts #roleplay meme #sentence starters #lyric starters #lyric sentence starters #rph #type: meme

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rustedhearts · 6 months

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hunger (steve harrington x fem!reader)

summary: steve comes home from jail again with a certain hunger in his eye. but all hungry dogs have teeth that bite.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ but i love him to death ✶ main masterlist

tags: smut right out of the gate here, lads; mentions of suicide/thoughts of suicide; presence of knives + guns; this is essentially gator tillman; unprotected and kinda fucked up sex; toxic (borderline abusive) relationship

rural midwest. winter, 2007.

A beam of blue light fell over the tattered quilt holding your body: a lump under the covers, padded with layers meant to conserve warmth. A snowstorm beat against the windowpanes, bringing the darkness of the night to a hazy, fuzzy grey. Steve always liked how snow fell in the night—how it could turn even the darkest of hours to light.

He staggered into the room with slow, careful steps, watching the bed quilt rise and fall steadily over his shoulder as he dropped his items on the dresser. They used to give him plastic bags like all the other inmates—but when the door started rotating regularly for Steve, he just scooped his stuff from a plastic tub and went on his way.

Three pocketknives, a wallet falling apart at the seams stuffed full of cash and Playboy cards, a silver chain with a thick cross pendant, a lighter, and a silver bullet from a '76 Colt inherited from his daddy smudged with grease and dirt and whatever else might enter Steve's pocket. The bastards took his Menthols.

Steve wiggled out of his coat, letting it fall to the floor. He came undone, layer by layer, and pulled the cross over his head. He brought it to his lips and kissed it quietly before letting it fall to his chest. A couple nights, weeks—hell even a few hours—in the clink always brought him back to God.

And that's how you found him when you turned on your side: bare-chested in only a pair of plaid boxers. He had deep violet bruise on his left rib. The pink scar sliced over his right side shimmered in a silver light against the whiteness of the snow beaming through the drapes. His face was empty, but you knew what was going through his head.

"Steve."

He lifted his eyes, following your whisper to the bed. You peeled back the blankets on his side in invitation. He looked at the empty mattress space for a long while, then toward the cross above the bed. He swept a chapped palm over the top of his buzzed head and stepped forward, boots clunking heavily along the floor. The mattress jostled when he sank down, hunching to yank at his laces and kick his boots away.

You laid back, prepared to welcome him with a sweet, sleepy kiss hello—but he was slipping under the covers and crawling over you, a heavy weight pressing down and grabbing at your jaw with a firm hand. He pulled your head his way and swallowed your mouth with greedy tongue and nipping teeth. The taste of him, the prick of five o'clock shadow gathering around his mouth and along his chin, the stench of his car on his hands—it yanked you from slumber with as much force as Steve's hands pulling now.

Your panties first, twisted and tangled around your knees so he could fit his hand between your thighs. They were so warm and soft under the blankets, and he couldn't help the need to trap his wrist between them and shove two fingers in. You gasped against his mouth, sharp and white-breathed. He squished his other hand a little tighter around your cheeks, giving it a shake to shut you up.

He didn't want to talk. He never did.

The silver cross around his neck tapped into your chin with every push of his fingers in and out, bodies rocking together against the pull of his touch. He kissed when he could, sloppy and untimed. He huffed hot breaths into your open mouth when he couldn't, watching through a pair of bleary eyes as your face scrunched up.

You latched onto his arm when you were close, nails piercing warm skin. He slipped his fingers from between your legs and shoved your thighs apart, sitting back just far enough to let the covers slip down and uncover your bodies. Your panties were kicked somewhere toward the end of the bed now, t-shirt pushed up under your chin to pull your breasts into the cold. He pinched them your nipples peaked in the cold, but he was far too hungry to worry about waiting for you to stop shivering.

Steve plunged in: one rough push that catapulted you toward the headboard and knocked the cross against the wall. An elongated groan filled the room, hoarse and guttural and all Steve. He slipped his hand from your face down to your neck, where his thumb punctured the space against your windpipe and held it tightly in place. You tipped your chin up to tell him it was alright, and he lunged forward to collect your mouth again.

He gave short, rough little thrusts that had you squeaking against his mouth, teeth clinking and bumping together. He was making it known: this was not for pleasure.

This was for possession.

You were his. You were his when he went away, and you were always his when he came home. You were his in the cold, his in the heat, his when he thought about taking that pistol in the top of the closet and putting it between his eyes to put everyone out of their misery. His for all time.

His forever—even the day you'd eventually decide to leave.

Steve brought his hand back up to your jaw again, cupping it in his palm and digging his fingers into your cheeks. You pinched your eyes shut when the blunt edge of his nails scraped at your skin. Sputtering when his teeth sank into your neck, whining when he smacked his hand against your thigh and soothed it with the same heavy hand.

Oh, he loved you so terribly.

You came with a high-pitched squeal, and it was pathetic how you could've done so from just his rough huffing and manhandling alone. Steve on the other hand, was nowhere near done. And he pushed through all your squirming and whimpering, pulling your head back into place by your chin every time you tried to shy away. He watched heat swell in your face until sweat beaded at your head and neck, pooling in the crevice behind your knees. And when a tear dripped down your cheek, he licked it up with a hot mouth.

The salty taste of it on his tongue and the sound of your quiet whining had him convulsing between your legs. His hold weakened around your face, limply falling around your throat when he sank down and nuzzled into your neck. You took a moment to catch your breath, and then scratched at his scalp with your nails gently. Pressed a kiss to the top of his ear, pulsing and beat-red.

"Glad you're home," you whispered in the half-dark.

Steve lifted his hips until he slipped free, rolling onto his side of the bed with limp weight. He groaned as he shifted around, finally deciding on a side comfortable enough to close his eyes.

You fumbled for your panties under the bed and took them to the bathroom. You kept the light off.

✶ ✶

In the morning, you fixed Steve a hearty breakfast that warmed the kitchen with flour and bacon grease. He shuffled awake around ten o'clock. trudging into the kitchen with a scowl and puffy eyes. His cross gleamed in the white light of a snowy morning on his way to the cupboard.

"Morning," you murmured sweetly. "There's coffee on the warmer if you—"

But Steve was cracking open a can of Budweiser and gulping it down on his way toward the kitchen table, where piles of unopened mail addressed to him sat in heaps. Few envelopes were ripped apart on the other side, and Steve snatched at one that was undoubtedly addressed to him.

"Why'd you open this?" he grumbled, pulling the folded sheet of paper out.

You placed another spatula of bacon on a paper-towel lined plate and glanced his way. "It's the gas bill, Steve. I...I didn't know how long you'd be away this time, and I didn't want—"

"Does it have your fuckin' name on it?"

Heat swelled in your cheeks. You turned back to the skillet sizzling on the back burner. Clearly, there would be no sweet good morning kisses or a lull of quiet after such an intimate night.

Steve huffed, flicking the gas bill toward the end of the table. "Don't worry about shit that isn't yours to worry about."

You clicked the burner off and brought the plate of bacon to the table, setting it a little roughly in front of Steve. "I'll let them shut the gas off next time, Steve."

"Why d' you always gotta be fuckin' smart?" Steve scowled again, and you curled your fingers tight around the porcelain plate of pancakes you were carrying over.

"Do you want coffee?"

Steve sighed exasperatedly, snatching a piece of bacon and ripping the top bite off. "No, just—fine, whatever."

You poured two mugs and grabbed extra plates, bringing them to the table. You remained quiet as you sipped your coffee and stared at the remnants of mail on the wood.

"When's your court date?"

Steve tossed you a look, tossing more bacon on his plate. "You really wanna fuckin' talk about that?"

"Just want to be prepared," you explained, cupping your hands around the warmth of your mug.

"Again, not your business—"

"No, but it is my business Steve. You really don't think any of this affects me? Every time you go to jail, who do you think takes care of shit here?"

Steve turned in his chair, cocking his head. "Oh, so that's it? You think you're some big boss when I'm not here? That you run shit—"

"I didn't say that—"

"Let me tell you, sweetheart, you don't run shit. This is my house, this is my business—"

"Then maybe I should just go stay with my mom for a bit."

The proclamation hung there for a bit. You stared at the dark pool of coffee before you, and Steve dug holes into your head. He shifted in his chair and snatched at his beer, taking a loud swig of it before it slammed down again. He slapped a few pancakes onto his plate and wiggled his fork through the pile. Another tired sigh.

"Don't say stupid shit like that."

You picked at a piece of bacon and watched it crumble into bits. “She’s been wanting me to come home for a while.”

“Well that’s great,” Steve huffed, teeth scraping his fork as he wolfed down half a pancake. “How’s that supposed to make me feel?”

You dropped your chin into your hand on the table and shrugged. “Didn’t know you felt things, Steve.”

It was quiet a moment. The light above the sink buzzed behind you. You tapped your finger on your mug and swallowed. Steve worked at the pancake packed in his cheek with slow chews.

His chair flew back and clattered to the floor. You hurried to your feet and backed away toward the hall. Your tapping finger knocked over your mug of hot coffee in the commotion, browning the mail in a puddle. Steve reached for you in one large leap your way, but you sprinted to the bathroom and slammed the door.

From the other side, Steve’s stomps were thundering. The door rattled with his pounding, and you kept a hand firmly around the knob in case the lock didn’t hold.

“They’ll call the cops again, Steve!” You warned him.

“Open this fucking door,” he growled back.

“Fuck you—“

“Fuck you! Bitch,” he grumbled, kicking the door for good measure before his steps faded away.

You waited for them to find a place with your head against the tiled wall. They wandered for a while, pacing and rummaging. He slammed a few cabinets and threw a few things, grumbling as he went. He paused in front of the door after a noisy trip to the bedroom, and you pulled off the wall to stare at his shadow in the beam of light on the floor. Whatever he was going to say or do, he decided against, and stomped away. The front door slammed moments later.

✶ ✶

You did it. You packed a bag. Stuffed it full of clothes and all your necessary things—and then you stared at it on the end of the bed. The quilt had lost its color from all the washing. The pillows were limp and flat. The nightstand collected piles of dust around your things that never moved.

You packed a bag, but you couldn’t leave.

You laid down instead, crawling under the quilt with an aching need. The house ticked with a stilling silence. You watched the snow fall against a grey sky until it stung your eyes. You thought of digging out your diary from the box under the bed and reading all about your early days with Steve to remind you just why you should stay. But you knew you’d find a million more reasons to go. And the bed was so warm, and you were so tired.

Ironically, you just wanted Steve.

He came home as the sun was falling down, kicking the door shut with a quiet clamp. He came stomping into the bedroom with slow, meticulous steps. He was letting you know he was no longer angry. Every move came with a metallic clink from the zipper of his camo jacket and his half-closed pocketknife on his thigh.

The door chittered on its hinges when he nudged it open. You tried not to stir as he moved in closer. The bed dipped with the weight of him, tipping you off kilter.

“Got you these.”

The soft leg of a brown teddy bear touched your arm, and when you turned he was holding a pair of red roses. You accepted them gingerly, pressed onto your back. Steve gnawed on his bottom lip, pulling off a string of skin. The tops of his ears were nipped raw by the wind, cheeks rosy from the cold. He had a new scrape on his left knuckle over the inked cross.

“Didn’t mean to call you a bitch, baby,” he mumbled, scratching at his scalp. “You just…you really fuckin’ get me goin’, you know? You-you piss me off.”

You played with the tiny soft ear on the teddy bear, heart pulsing in your throat. “Sorry.”

Steve sighed, pulling at a loose thread in the quilt near your arm. “Just don’t go, honey. Y’ can’t leave me. Okay?”

You glanced at him, holding the teddy bear on your hip. “Okay.”

The hiss of snow tapping at the glass filled the quiet of the room in the lull. You reached out and placed your hand on his arm, thumb stroking the head of the serpent scaling his thick limb. He watched you all the while, sucking the blood pooling from the broken skin of his lip.

“Got the court thing sorted out. Don’t want you worrying.”

You glanced up at him again, nodding. Getting it “sorted out” meant he paid someone off. There seemed to be an agreement between Steve and the officers that knew him well.

“Okay…wanna lay with me?”

His eyes darted around the bed. His boots were still on, camo jacket unzipped. He smelled like new Menthols, and you could see the outline of a pack in one of his thigh pockets.

“For a minute,” he said, laying back on the pillows beside you. “Gotta take care of some business tonight.”

He tucked his hands behind his head and you curled into his side. You didn’t even mind that he didn’t hold you—he was here, breathing beneath you, warm and tender, and that was all that mattered.

You were his. Every time, no matter what.

#rolly!#steve harrington #gator tillman #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x fem!reader #joe keery #steve harrington au #steve harrington blurb #gator tillman fic #gator tillman fanfiction

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scoonsalicious · 1 month

Text

Unwanted: Chapter 15, Undermined - Pt. 3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Jade Carthage (she's a warning), delusions.

Word Count: 661

Previously On...: You confronted Sam to question him about Bucky's claim that he happens to get hard when he fights. Fortunately, it seems like he was telling you the truth... about that, at least.

A/N: Ah, tis my final day of Spring Break. Back to regular life tomorrow, and no further breaks until the end of the school year :( Well, we have Memorial Day and now Juneteenth, so that's something, but it's still gonna be a loooong 11 weeks :/ But I gladly welcome the better weather. Did anyone watch the eclipse? I'm in the path of totality, but I slept through it, I think lol. It was cloudy here, anyway, so I didn't even notice.

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc

True to his word (almost as though he were actually trying to make it a habit), Bucky kept his distance from Carthage. Several times, FRIDAY had alerted you that Bucky and Jade had crossed paths somewhere within the Tower, and you would review the footage with bated breath, always expecting to see the worst, as if they would strip off their clothes and start fucking in the common room. But you were relieved to see that he continued ignoring her, acting as though she truly did not exist, and it seemed to be driving her mad with vexation.

She was so perturbed by it that she eventually came to you looking for a way to get to him.

“I need to talk to Jamie,” she said, interrupting you mid-conversation with one of the scientists in your lab.

“Okay,” you said, dismissing the scientist. No reason multiple people should have to suffer through this. “Then talk to him. It’s a free country.”

“He isn’t speaking to me,” she pouted. “He’s acting like I don’t exist!”

“That sounds like a ‘you’ problem,” you told her, trying to keep the smile from your face. “I’m not sure what you want me to do about it. Or that I’d actually want to do anything about it, even if I could, if I’m being completely honest.”

“I just don’t know what I did wrong!” she whined. You sneered at that. How could she be so completely lacking in self-awareness? Especially to come to you, of all people, after the things she’d texted to Bucky, after trying to destroy your relationship.

“Would you like the list alphabetically, or in chronological order?” you asked.

She rolled her eyes at you. “You know, you should have just stayed away from him. Everything would have gone according to plan if he wasn’t so fucking obsessed with you.”

“According to plan?” you asked her, eyebrows shooting to the top of your forehead. “What the fuck do you mean by that?”

Jade seemed to stumble for words. “I– he– you knew I liked him when I first interviewed. And just to get back at me because I was maybe a little bit rude to you, you went and stole him for yourself!”

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. You wondered if you should ask Tony for a raise, because while you were paid extraordinarily well, you sure as shit weren’t paid enough to deal with this. “Listen, Carthage,” you began, “because I’m just going to tell you this once: My relationship with Bucky started long before either one of us ever even knew of your existence.” Technically not a lie, just a small fudge on the truth. Friendship was a type of relationship, after all. “And it’s going to keep going long after both of us have forgotten your name.”

“You don’t understand what you’re putting me through!” she cried, tears forming at the waterline of her eyes.

You stared at her for a moment, unblinking. “What I’ve put you through?!” you asked her, clenching your fists to keep from punching her in that annoyingly pretty face– you knew that would lead to a fist fight you had no chance of winning. “You have been nothing but a thorn in my side since the moment you first walked into this Tower. Before you showed up, I was the happiest I’d ever been, but you had to come along and try to sink your claws into the man I love. You ruined my relationship; fuck, you ruined my life.”

You didn’t know what effect you expected your words to have on Jade, but you weren’t prepared for her insidious smile as you finished speaking. “Maybe you should be asking yourself, if Jamie loved you as much as you love him, why your relationship was so easy to ruin.”

With a flip of her hair over her shoulder, she was gone, leaving you alone, speechless and freshly betrayed all over again.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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artemismoorea03 · 7 months

Text

DP x DC: When Are You?

Dimension travel with Danny Phantom going to the DC Universe isn't uncommon but hear me out. Dimension x Time Travel.

Danny Phantom ended in 2007 - which depending on where you look in DCU causes a rather big gap between the two. So, hear me out.

Danny gets tossed into a new world during a completely different time. Flip phones, floppy disks, chunky tv's and computers suddenly make way for touch screens, bluetooth, smart screen everything. Danny's phone doesn't work (if Tucker/Sam are with him then their tech is fucked too), they don't know how to work this new tech, there's no sign of a phone booth anywhere! There are massive tv screens everywhere!

They have no idea how anything works, what time they're in, where they are, or why a group of furrys keep chasing them!

Now they just have to hope Clockwork or Frostbite come to save them from this timeline cross dimensional bullshit.

#dp x dc prompt #my prompts

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sohnric · 1 month

Text

best years – j. haknyeon

pairing: ju haknyeon x fem! reader

genre: early 00s au, established relationship au. fluff !!! sooo fluffy it makes ME feel single. casual engagement i guess ?? tamagotchi mention for all nostalgic girlies <3

warnings: honestly not sure some swearing i'm sure. other than that the reader has hair long enough to play with

word count: 2.5k

a/n: thank you best friend @csenke for beta reading this as always it means a lot to me i love you so bad. also tagging @okkotsu-simp kyuzu bc she told me to and @winterchimez because.. hak fic...

Most things with Haknyeon aren’t planned, grandiose or romantic. Sometimes, you just take a step forward together, holding each other tight, no questions asked. Much like today-- who would've thought that a Tamagotchi toy evolving would lead you to take the biggest step of your life?

this fic is a part of the @deoboyznet 'the love letter collective' event o:) oh and also a spin-off to my 90s au universe! (go read millennium bug and to. my first for 10 years of good luck!)

September 2007

A sweet strawberry is placed in between your lips as you lay on the blanket, the sun shining into your eyes making you squint and shield your vision from the scorching beams. You blindly bite into the juicy fruit, enjoying the freshness of it in your mouth, knowing that this might be the last time you can taste the red miracle this year, since fall is quickly approaching despite the warm days of early September.

Your ears are filled with the noises of the birds chirping in the distance, the occasional buzz of a bug flying by your face, and apart from the sounds of nature, also the occasional humming of your boyfriend’s voice and the tech noises of the toy in between his fingers.

“He finally evolved into an adult!” Haknyeon gasps and places the Tamagotchi into your point of vision, shielding you from the view of the cloudy, blue sky. Eyes falling onto the little device, you snicker at the man and nod, looking up from your position in his lap to meet his gaze.

“Stop gendering our child, Hak.”

“I’m pretty sure that when we named him John, we wordlessly agreed on it being a boy,” your boyfriend’s hand drops, the sharp sun once again piercing your gaze when there is nothing making a shadow fall over your face.

“For all we know, John can be a girl.”

“Y/N-” the man sighs, the slightest tinge of irritation already in his voice. As if the fact that you were both fully grown adults taking care of a toy for children wasn’t strange enough, now you have to argue about the identity of your little animal.

“It’s an it,” you conclude. “I think we can agree on that, can’t we?”

Your boyfriend rolls his eyes, but doesn’t argue with you further. The view of him crossing his arms at his chest and averting his gaze from you has you burst out into laughter– he was clearly upset about something, and you’re fairly certain that this was not the matter.

“What?” you pry, letting out an airy laugh slip from between your lips.

“You didn’t even acknowledge that it evolved,” he peeps, sighing. “But if you don’t care, it’s okay, you can just go back to what you were doing before, which was nothing–”

Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes at the boy, humored with his childishness. Taking his palm into your hand and holding it up in front of your face again, you gaze at the toy in between his fingers and hum in acknowledgement. “It did!” you nod. “Good job. You finally didn’t let it die–”

“Now, that only happened twice–”

“Three times,” you correct him, watching with amusement as your boyfriend sighs again and chews on the inside of his lip, the sight of him from below more entertaining to you than watching the clouds. You know that by the logic of the Solar system, there’s only one sun allowed in this universe– but looking at the sky shielded by your boyfriend’s head, his tan skin glazed in the warm orange hues of the late afternoon, you think he’s the personification of the greatest star itself– for you that is, at least.

“Okay, well, three times. But I’ve got a hold of it now,” he says, nodding to himself. “So that means we can get a real kid now,” he says, face stoic and serious, as if he really meant what just came out of his mouth.

Laughing to yourself, you shake your head in disbelief. “I’m sorry, get what now?” you grin. “I wasn’t aware that I was a part of this deal.”

“You agreed to it, though,” Haknyeon nods, flicking your forehead. “You must have not paid attention again, but we definitely shook hands on it.”

“Wait,” you say, sarcastically humming and brushing your chin, a playful act of being lost deep in thought, “no. I still don’t remember any of that. So as long as you don’t have a written proof with my signature and the date on the bottom, I don’t think we can proceed with this arrangement, Mr Ju. We can, however, settle on getting a dog–”

“So you don’t want children with me?” he asks, looking down at you with big eyes. Thinking that it’s all a part of a joke, you try to play along– going as far as even shaking your head in disapproval.

“Hell no,” you drag out, furrowing your brows in deep unsettlement. “To have a clone of you running around our flat in a few years? That sounds like my worst nightmare,” you hum, snickering to yourself. “Besides, we forgot to buy toilet paper last week. What makes you believe we can take care of another human? Hell, that damn thing died 3 times before it grew into an adult, Hak…” you sigh, the tone of a know-it-all you like to use on him so much whenever you joke around not quite hitting the boy in the right way this time.

“Ah,” he hums, fingers suddenly playing with the strands of your hair sprawled out like the beams of the sun in his lap, his face now shielded with a cloud. Haknyeon chews on the inside of his cheek for a second before a bashful voice reaches your ears, making you look up to meet his eye. “I think it wouldn’t hurt to at least try…”

Noticing the playful sparkle in his eye completely gone, your heart stammers, skipping a beat. Stomach dropping, you jump to rescue. “Wait… you thought I was being serious?”

Haknyeon shrugs, pouting for a second before a rosy tint flashes over his cheeks. “You sounded convincing…” he says, laughing. “Besides, it’s completely up to you if you wanna have kids or not, I was just a little taken aback–”

“Stop being silly,” you say, shaking your head. “I should stop being sarcastic all the time, it’s doing a lot of damage recently.”

“Like when MB!Y/N thought you were being serious when you told her it was embarrassing to cry on her wedding day?” Haknyeon laughs, remembering the memory from only a few weeks ago.

“Exactly!” you agree. “I still feel bad for that, by the way. Now I know why nobody liked me in high school–”

“That’s not true,” Haknyeon denies. “You keep forgetting the fact that I had the hugest crush on you, Y/N.”

“Well, you were always very subtle about it.”

“I was shy.”

“I think you were just trying to be cool,” you say, poking the inside of your cheek with your tongue, taunting the boy.

“Well, it worked, didn’t it?” he laughs, moving his hand up to your head and cradling it, going as far as gently scratching your scalp. “Back to the topic at hand, though. Do you… Have you ever thought of us having kids together?”

Looking up at the man you’ve been dating for the last 4 years, watching as his face morphs into pure wonder, your heart sores when you stare at his features for long enough– even after all this time. You bet you see a hint of sunlight reflecting in his orbs whenever he pays you a look, and the apples of his cheeks catch a light strawberry color whenever you compliment him still, even after so many years. It’s kind of adorable, really– you two have always been an open book, honest with each other– but neither of you were really big on romantic gestures or big confessions.

You two do everything casually. You don’t tend to make a big deal out of things. Somehow, your relationship naturally progresses through all the crucial stages without paying it a second thought. Sure, you two have been on dates– the title wasn’t established for a long time when you first started going out, though. For you and Haknyeon, you were just two people hanging out and enjoying each other’s company.

The title of your relationship gained an official name as naturally as the seasons change– after many afternoons spent together doing various things, Haknyeon just asked you if you wanted to be his girlfriend. You agreed, no questions asked. It felt casual– it fit like a puzzle to the dynamic of your energies. You didn’t need big words or gestures. In the mundane reality of your lives, you two always had each other– without taking each other for granted, you both somehow always knew you were a given to each other. Both of you always knew you had the other person to fall back on– your security, your other half. There was no need for big words in a connection like yours. It just felt right.

And yes, you do talk about everything. Most things, at least. But somehow, the topic of having children together hasn’t really come up seriously until now– only in passing, mentioning it as a matter of course for most relationships. You don’t blame Haknyeon for getting so serious at this moment.

“Yeah,” you say, voice soft and gentle. “Come on, Hak. I imagine spending the rest of my life with you, what makes you think having children isn’t in the equation?” you say, choosing to be serious with him for once.

“I dunno,” he shrugs. “I mean, you were kinda right about the toilet paper thing, though–”

“I know, I know…” you sigh, “but I bet the oxytocin will get the job done.”

“Look at you using big biology words so suddenly,” Haknyeon jokes, making you roll your eyes and flick his chin.

“Be serious for once!” you laugh out, making the boy grin at your little outburst.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” Haknyeon says, the pad of his thumb suddenly glazing over your cheekbone. The touch is tender, managing to cross the words always somehow left unsaid, yet always somehow understood– your brains and hearts on the same wavelength, buzzing at the same frequency– before your boyfriend casually drags out: “That’s good to hear, babe, ‘cause we’d make the prettiest babies. Would be a shame to let the good genes go to waste.”

“Tell me that,” you confidentially whisper. “They’d be mega smart too. They’d get that after me, obviously–”

“Hey!”

“I’m joking, I’m joking,” you laugh, shielding yourself from the hands of your boyfriend already reaching to give you a playful flick to your forehead again. “I do think we should wait a while before having children, though.”

“Not that I don’t agree with you, but why?”

Hands blindly reaching for another strawberry to chew on, you watch your boyfriend easily pluck the fruit out of the basket and hold it up against your lips, helping you with your task. Thinking over your answer, picking out your words carefully, you chew and stare at the boy as he helps himself to a strawberry himself, the two of you gazing at each other in a fond silence.

“I think we skipped a few steps. We live together already, so that’s a start, but I’d like to get married before having kids,” you shrug, licking your lips off the watery sweetness, watching your boyfriend take in the new information.

Haknyeon hums, nodding to himself. “Makes sense,” he admits. “And when do you see us doing that?” he asks, genuine interest coating his saccharine voice.

“Not really sure,” you admit, snickering. “I haven’t thought about it much until now.”

“Hm,” Haknyeon hums in thought, the two of you staring at each other, chewing on your strawberries. There isn’t much contemplating behind your boyfriend’s words before he says them, but nonetheless, it doesn’t even catch you off guard– much like not many things do in your relationship. Somehow, you’re always perfectly synced. “Now seems like a good time, doesn’t it?”

“I mean… it doesn’t seem like a bad time, that’s for sure,” you shrug.

“We’ve been dating for a long time,” Haknyeon says, as if to further strengthen his argument. “Hell, I can’t believe Eric managed to get married before me.”

“Are you only saying this because your younger friend got married last month?”

“No,” Haknyeon says, although he sounds a little unconvincing. “But it certainly was a wake up call, in a way.”

“A wake up call?” you repeat, big eyes staring into your boyfriend’s soul.

“Yeah,” he agrees, “kinda realized when I didn’t see you catch the bouquet. A part of me was secretly hoping you would.”

“Stop being cheesy, Hak. That’s not like you,” you say, although there is something sweet, thick like honey, swirling in your stomach at his unusually rich wording. The male laughs in your face, enjoying the way he has you flustered with his confession.

“Would you do it, though?” he asks, grinning.

“What? Marry you?” you ask, raising your brows at him. “As in… right now?” you clarify, watching as the male purses his lips at you, seemingly thinking about it for a heartbeat.

“I mean, not right now, because we’d have to arrange the wedding and all, but yeah. Like, as soon as we can, is what I mean,” he says, dragging a stray hair out of your forehead.

Staring at him for a second, contemplating your next words, you feel your heart squeezing with something akin to excitement, your fingertips tingling with the reality upon you. “Ju Haknyeon… is this you asking me to marry you?”

“Yeah,” Haknyeon nods, shrugging. The whole situation is absurd– no one is down on their knee, no ring is present, no big events or confessions are taking place. Yet, the moment still feels perfect– it flows naturally into the trajectory of your life, makes total sense in the grand scheme of your relationship, happens unexpectedly, but doesn’t quite shock you in the tiniest way. It’s just another afternoon for the both of you– doesn’t matter that you’re taking perhaps the biggest decision of your whole life.

You don’t contemplate for even a second.

“Okay,” you say, watching the boy’s eyes light up.

“Okay,” he repeats, nodding. “Let’s do it, then.”

“Let’s do it,” you say, watching the boy beam down at you just like the sun, something in the air changing, yet, the two of you still stay the same.

Haknyeon takes your hand into his, opening your fist before he slips the keyring off the Tamagotchi onto your ring finger like it’s a promise, pressing the toy into the palm of your hand and making you hold it tight. His hand stays on yours when he leans down, lips crashing against yours, offering you all his love in the simple action. He tastes like strawberries and the past 4 years of joy.

Faces close to each other when you pull away, Haknyeon talks confidentially into your ear. “We can go ring shopping tomorrow.”

“You better buy me a very expensive one–” you joke, cut off by your own laughter as the male gently bites into the tip of your nose, teasing you and making you frown, pushing him away with gentle force against his chest, right where his heart is.

Most things with Haknyeon aren’t planned, grandiose or romantic. Sometimes, you just take a step forward together, holding each other tight. You love each other in a casual way– the same way you know that when you wake up, there will be sun, and when you go to sleep at night, there will always be stars– you know that as long as you're alive, you and Haknyeon will always have each other. That’s the calm way in which you two love.

#dbn: love letter #deoboyznet #the boyz x reader #ju haknyeon x reader #the boyz fanfic #the boyz drabbles #the boyz scenarios #haknyeon x reader #haknyeon imagines #the boyz fluff #haknyeon fluff

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bitten-fruit · 3 months

Text

you invite him inside

It's Summer 2007, and you're on your way home from a party in Edinburgh. You encounter an exceptionally forward Scottish stranger with a buzzed head and a brow ring, calling himself Soap - you roll the dice, and let him walk you home.

18+ MDNI - cw: reader is drunk - 5k words

tags: Indie Sleaze(!!) Johnny 'Soap' Mactavish x f!Reader, teasing & denial, flirting & banter

a/n: this is (some) of the first chapter of my longfic Trainspotting on A03, bitterfruit. I thought I'd share on here since I'm working on a part 2!! ♡

You carve through the beating crowd of the house party; sloshing drinks and drunken hands intercept you as you attempt to navigate your way to the front door. MGMT’s Kids thunders from the speakers in the hallway, its deafening volume only exacerbated by the passionate chanting of the dancers that hover around it.

Control yourself! Take only what you neeeed from it!

Your friend Katie, who had brought you as a plus-one, had long disappeared with some boy she had been all over - taking your coat with her - leaving you to make your way home in nothing but your needlessly skimpy playboy bunny costume.

Finally stumbling out of the dense jungle of partygoers, you burst through the front door as if you’d just been birthed, sweaty and panting.

Just a fifteen-minute walk.

With your arms crossed, you trudge down the steps in the stiletto pumps you had borrowed from Katie – glossy, sharp, and a size too small. Fuck, they ache. Before you even make it past the gate, you throw in the towel and unstuff your feet from their latex trappings; holding the shoes with two fingers hooked at the heels, doing your best to avoid stepping on the broken glass on the footpath.

As your distance from the house party grows and the echoes of Paper Planes begin to fade, it dawns on you that you’re far drunker than you had believed yourself to be. Being surrounded by students two boxes and three pingers deep has the tendency to make you feel staunchly sober by comparison.

Still, you feel the slabs of concrete wobbling beneath your feet, your head starts to spin like you’ve stepped off a carousel if you shut your eyes for too long. The streets are utterly quiet, devoid of cars or people, despite the neighbourhood’s proximity to the CBD. You may well have found it off-putting if you were sober, but in truth, you’re just thanking Christ there’s nobody around to see you trotting down the road in nothing but a bodysuit and fishnets. You imagine a car might pull up alongside you, rolling slowly on its wheels as the driver asks through his window, “how much for an hour?”

And that would almost be preferable to what you actually encounter once you’re halfway home – crossing the street, stumbling in your bare feet as you walk past shops with steel shutters blocking their doors and windows.

You hear the distinctive thuds of sprinting feet from far behind you; the soles of sneakers slamming hard on the footpath, in a rapid enough pace that the person might as well be an Olympian runner. As they get louder, closer, your first instinct is to flee – but before you even have the chance to turn to look over your shoulder, the sprinter has come to a screeching halt beside you, tearing off their jacket and tossing it over your shoulders as if it were a cape.

“What the fu–” You yelp, hastily cut short.

“Shh – shut up, pretend y’know me.”

A man, and a local, evidently – the kind of Scottish accent so thick you can barely distinguish the beginning of one word from the end of another.

“Get away fr–”

He interrupts you once again, tossing an arm over your shoulder as he walks alongside you, shoving his other fist into the pocket of his loose black jeans. “Please, lassie, do me a favour and just go with it.”

Amidst his breathlessness he sounds quite desperate – voice deep and warm, oozing sincerity despite the edge in his tone. So you weigh your options, whether or not to trust him, or to help him, or to scream and flee. You tilt your head just enough to take a peek at him; he hunches over, shoulders shrugging high as if keeping his neck warm, head low like it might hide his buzzcut from whoever may be chasing him.

You quickly discover that there are, in fact, people chasing him – more echoes from further down the road of multiple sets of running feet. You hear an enraged roar from a man behind you; your body tenses on instinct, head twisting further in the hopes of checking how close they are to you.

“Don’t look at ‘em,” he instructs you pointedly, under his breath.

More indistinguishable yelling erupts from his pursuers, though they no longer seem to be approaching. “Cheap fucken’ trick, ye fucken’ coward!”

“Keep walkin’ with me,” he mutters, tugging you along with his heaving arm draped around the back of your neck, forcing you to accelerate so that you can keep up with him.

Adrenaline throbbing hotly in your ears, you try to steal glances at the controlling stranger, not able to see much of him in your periphery. You realise now that the gifting of his jacket was not a chivalrous gesture, but a failed attempt to trick his pursuers. “Sounds like they’ve spotted you,” you whisper-yell, facing ahead.

“Aye,” he grunts, “but they won’t touch me if there’s a witness.”

“I don’t want to be a witness,” you squeak, nervous terror in your throat.

He chuckles breathily, gives a single shake of his head. “Too late.”

“Next time I see ye, yer a fucken’ dead man, hear me? With or without yer hoor!”

The stranger groans as he scoops you around a corner, keeping a hurried pace, shooting looks over his shoulder to ensure he’s no longer being followed. Fortunately – or, unfortunately – this was the corner you would have taken anyway.

“Did he just call me a whore?” You whisper, still in shock.

He chortles at you again, sliding his weighty arm from your shoulders and releasing you at long last. “Ignore ‘em. Fucken' wankers.”

You finally have the opportunity to turn around fully to check behind you, seeing only empty, silent street.

“They won’t follow us,” he assures you, still walking alongside you, arrogant in his assumption that you won’t tell him to fuck off.

But you don’t, not yet. “Why – why were they chasing you?”

“Nosy wee thing, aren’t ye?” He smiles, crossing his arms, and you finally get a good look at him.

Hair buzzed short, the sort of job he likely did himself over his sink with an electric clipper plugged into the wall. A curved barbel pierces through the tail of his left eyebrow, almost as flashy as the sharp grey eyes pointing down at you from beneath it. His grin pushes dimples into his densely stubbled cheeks, revealing charmingly crooked teeth, and a golden crown on his right canine.

There’s something tired, jaded about him, dark eyes and low brows; face speckled with a variety of little scars, one white slash through his right eyebrow, a few pink lines carving over his temple and through his shaven scalp.

You blink, reminding yourself to speak.

“Nosy?” You snap, “you brought me into this!”

He tilts his head, appearing to acquiesce. “Aye, true. They’re just mad ‘cos I short-changed ‘em.”

As he shrugs, the hem of his cropped t-shirt tugs up on his stomach, revealing the hem of plaid boxers sticking out from his baggy trousers, a sliver of firm abdomen, a dusting of curly hair trailing down from his navel. You swallow.

“Hm. For what?” You pester.

“Now yer bein’ nosy.”

You huff, crossing your arms underneath the cape of his jacket, checking over your shoulder one last time to be certain you’re no longer being stalked.

“Fine,” you pout. After a beat of silence, you decide to add; “I’m not a prostitute, by the way.”

He snickers hoarsely, “’course not. Prostitutes are much more subtle. You’d be the first I’ve ever seen dressed as a – a what, a bunny?”

He reaches behind you, the cocky prick, lifting the back of his cloaking jacket and flicking the puffball pinned to your ass. You gawk at him, a surge of adrenaline buzzing within your chest – curious, that it’s not out of fear but fascination.

“See a lot of prostitutes, do you?” You sneer, noting how briefly his gaze lingers on your backside before it flits to your face.

“Not ‘round this side of town,” he chortles. You suspect he’s joking, but who’s to say? “So… why a bunny?”

“Playboy bunny,” you correct him, turning your head to glance at him; he just looks bewildered. “Pimps and hoes party.”

He laughs, richly, lurching forward as he does. “Ha! Had no idea they still did those.”

“Sure do,” you say, failing to suppress your grin. “Too old for them, are you?”

“Aye, for house parties full o’ students,” he admits, “but not too old to party. M’only twenty-six.”

You smile. “Good for you.”

“Got no girlie-mates to walk ye home?” He changes the subject.

Peeking at him, you squint. “You’re not supposed to ask a girl if she’s alone, you know.”

“Oh,” he frowns, “why’s that?”

“Like, stranger danger.”

“Yeah?” He chuckles deeply. “Do you think I’m dangerous?”

You turn to look at him, running your eyes from his cocksure grin, down to his Chucks and back again. He certainly looks the part. Rough around the edges. You wonder if you would have avoided him, had he not approached you so blithely.

“Very,” you nod. “Plus, you’re following me.”

“Am I?” He jibes, “well, love, if ye want me to leave y’alone, tell me and I’ll try to leave ye be.”

Your pout shifts into a girlish smirk despite your dire efforts to contain it. “You’ll try?”

“Mm. Might be easier said than done,” he ribs, leering down at you. Your quiet titter only serves to embolden him. “It’s probably for the best that I found ye.”

“You reckon?”

“Mm. Not very bright o’ye to be walking home by yerself at this hour. And in that.”

You click your tongue impatiently. “You sound like my mum.”

“Then she’s a smart woman,” he says, with a sternness that leaves you taken aback.

You peer up at him, scrutinising. For fuck’s sake, you curse at yourself, get a grip. All better judgement, your guardian angel, screams at you to stop flirting with this bizarre studded stranger and hurry your ass home. But the little devil on your other shoulder is far more interested in seeing how this unusual interaction plays out.

“You gonna protect me, are ya?” You probe.

“Naturally,” he chuffs.

“Walking me home, then?”

A devilish grin stretches in his lips. “Happily.”

“Promise you’re not a psychopath or something?”

He inhales deeply, blowing a raspberry as he puts his hands on his hips. “No promises.”

“Mm. Well, I shouldn’t be surprised,” you say, “only psychopaths would roam the streets at three-a.m.”

“Yeah? What does that make you?”

You giggle. “Shit. You got me.”

“You bet I do. What kind of psycho wears a fucken’ outfit like that ‘on the streets at 3-a.m.’?”

Taking a peek down at yourself, you’re confronted immediately by your obnoxious cleavage, unsure how you could have forgotten it was there. You decide to slip your arms into the roomy sleeves of his jacket, wearing it properly rather than as a cloak – much warmer.

“What’s wrong with it?” You wonder in jest, feigning offence.

“Yer jokin’.” He scoffs.

“What?” You gaze at him, with a cock of your brow; he unashamedly glowers at you, vibrantly grey eyes raking from your lips to your feet before climbing back to your stare.

He huffs petulantly. “I could see yer tits from across the street,” he murmurs, “don’t make me say something about the stockings.”

You laugh coyly, feeling your cheeks burn hot and red. Seems like you got the answer you wanted. “S’that why you ran up to me, huh?”

He shakes his head. “Nae. That was just dumb luck.”

“Ah. Lucky you.”

“Mhm,” he rumbles, voice low, “very lucky.”

Why is your heart fluttering? Why are you suddenly hanging on his every word like a fucking teenage girl? You blame the cherry-flavoured RTDs you were knocking back every ten minutes while you were at that party. They’ve made your cheeks all pink and your tongue all wet.

Yet in the current quiet, strolling nonchalantly down an empty street at half-past three in the morning, you don’t feel any awkwardness in the silence. You just smile at your feet like an idiot.

“What’s yer name, then?” He asks casually, both fists in his pockets.

You hum in thought, “hmm. I can’t tell you that.”

“Oh? Why not?”

“You’re a stranger, remember?”

“So?” He disputes, grinning and playfully biting his bottom lip with his top teeth, brandishing that glistening golden canine.

You shake your head. “Who knows what you could do with my name! You could be a stalker for all I know,” you explain defensively, “you might find out where I work on MySpace, or something.”

He snickers. “Wouldn’t need MySpace to figure that out, lass.”

Frowning, you give him a disapproving smirk. “You’re proving my point.”

“Ye really won’t tell me?”

“Nope.”

He huffs disappointedly. “Alright, then, I’ll just have to call ye the bunny I found on the street.”

“Fine by me,” you declare proudly. “What can I call you, then? The playboy?”

With a chuckle, he purses his lips in contemplation. “The playboy to yer bunny, I like that,” he says. “But, pals call me Soap.”

“Soap?” You question incredulously, “seriously?”

“Aye. If I can’t have yer name, y'can’t have mine.”

You snort. “Is it meant to be ironic?”

“Can’t be,” he refutes, quick to detect your insult, “I’m clean as a whistle.”

As you open your mouth to offer back some snippy response, you spot your mailbox, number eighteen, three terraced townhouses down – you had lost track of how long the walk was, your charming stranger having sponged up every last drop of your attention.

You find yourself disappointed, unjustifiably; you even consider, briefly, not mentioning that you had arrived home just so you can keep walking with him. God, you’re pathetic.

But imagining yourself having to eventually turn around, having to admit that you purposefully missed your stop – you begrudgingly decide to be a good girl and put yourself to bed.

“This is me,” you say flatly, slowing your steps before you come to a stop.

“Ah,” he stops beside you and rocks on the balls of his feet. “Bugger.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, mindlessly slipping your hands into the pockets of his jacket, preceding a reluctant silence. “Well, um... thanks for walking me home. Who knows what danger I could’ve gotten into.”

He waves away your jocose gratitude. “Oh, ‘course,” he says, “had to make sure ye didn’t get tricked into a chase by some strange gadgie.”

You snicker. “Oh, yeah. That would be terrifying.”

Crossing his arms, her gives you a wide but wistful grin. “Alright. I’ll leave you to it, hen.”

“Okay,” you nod, chewing your lip, you feel something in his pocket – rolling it between your fingers, feels like a wad of paper. Cash? A receipt? You start to wonder what he might have ‘short-changed’ those thugs for. Don’t be nosy. “Oh – your jacket.”

As you slip it off your shoulders, he disputes; “don’t wanna keep it as a memento?”

You chuckle, frowning, shaking your head in bemusement. Memento? What a peculiar bloke. “No. It sorta smells.”

“Bollocks,” he retorts, reaching to take the jacket from you – a brown leather bomber, now that you can see it properly. “I smell divine.”

God, he does. Like patchouli and sweat and leather; some sort of earthy masculine concoction, the kind of scent that’s probably entirely accidental – underpinned, you note, by something strangely chemical, like he had just taken a walk through a hospital. Still, so delightfully distinct from the stench of Axe body spray that the boys at your university gassed themselves with daily.

You pass him the bomber, shivering once your scantily clad body is once again exposed to the chilly air of the night. He’s quite shameless, this stranger, eyes almost bulging as they comb brazenly over you – legs, hips, tits – finally getting a good look at you, he takes his time.

“Eyes up here, playboy,” you chide.

He smirks, piercing gaze jumping to yours while his head remains tilted down; you’re almost intimidated the intensity of his eye contact from under his brow. “Aye. They’re just as pretty.”

“Alright, alright,” you giggle, face glowing hot. “I’d better turn in.”

“Yes, you’d better.”

Before you bring yourself to turn around, his hand reaches toward you, plucking the bunny-eared headband from the top of your head.

“Oi!” You bark, smoothing your disturbed hair; watching in confusion as he meticulously sits them on his head, flicking one of the fuzzy white ears with a pleased grin stretched in his lips.

“I want a memento,” he explains boldly. “Never know when I'm dreamin’ these days.”

You stare at him in bewilderment, amused and oddly endeared. He slips on his jacket, stuffing his hands into his pockets and shrugging it over his shoulders.

“Fine, all yours,” you capitulate, smiling meekly, once again letting a pregnant silence linger while you resist a goodbye. “Um. Alright. Goodnight. Soap.”

He nods. “G’night, wee bunny.”

You nod, too, finally turning on your bare feet and walking up the stairs of your flat’s brick stoop. Fumbling around in your handbag, you pluck out your keys – jingling loudly with all of your various keychains as you unlock the painted white door.

You hear his footsteps as he strolls away, slowly, growing duller as the distance grows. You find yourself frozen in the open doorway, staring into the dark abyss of your foyer, facing solitude. Bouncing in dispute with yourself, you exert all strength to bite your tongue. Don’t be stupid, don’t be stupid, don’t be stupid.

He starts to whistle, some obscure tune from just down the street, as if he is purposefully reminding you he’s still in earshot – a smug little prompt.

Fuck it.

Spinning around to face the road, you lean out of the door, and call out; “Hey!”

As though he had expected it, he stops in his tracks, twirling on his heel to face you with his hands still in his pockets. Had lit himself a cigarette already, in the thirty seconds since you had bid him farewell.

“Hm? Want the ears back after all?”

“Um–” You scramble to come up with an excuse. “Those guys won’t be looking for you, will they?”

He grins. “Oh, they could well be.”

“What’ll they do if they find you?”

“Who knows,” he huffs. “Probably kill me. Might gimme one o’ those Glasgow smiles.”

“That would be pretty terrible,” you remark solemnly.

“Aye. It sure would.”

You chew the inside of your cheek, battling with your drunken little demon. “Maybe you should hide out here for the night.” You daft bitch.

“Hm,” he ponders aloud, sauntering slowly back towards your stairs, squinting in thought. “Sounds like a bad idea.”

“How come?” You challenge, tapping the inside of the doorframe with shy fingers.

He creeps up your short footpath. “Never know what might happen.”

Your lips curl into an impish smirk. “That’s the best part.”

He laughs, plucking the cigarette from his teeth, holding it between his thumb and forefinger. “How drunk are ye. On a scale one-through-ten.”

“Um,” you muse, biting your lip. “I’m not that drunk.”

“Well, hen, you must be steamed. ‘Cos that’s not a number.”

You snicker, then groan impatiently. “Four.”

“Only four, eh?” He asks dubiously, standing at the base of your stairs, he gazes up at you devilishly. “You gonna remember in the mornin’ that you asked me to come in?”

“’Course,” you say. “I want you to come inside.”

He sneers. Filthy boy. “Don’t wanna get in trouble,” he refutes.

“I want you to come in,” you insist, correcting your wording just slightly.

He hums, feigning deep thought, as if he hasn’t been hoping you’d ask. “Alright,” he surrenders. “Why not.”

You do your best to conceal your glee, nodding, grinning, you turn to step inside and you hear him follow you.

“Ye live alone?” He asks, as he looks around the empty hallway, shrouded in darkness.

Shutting the door behind you and locking it, you tut at him. “Still shouldn’t ask that.”

“You’ve already invited me in,” he jeers, “if you’re worried I’ll hurt ye, you’ve made it well easy for me.”

“I s’pose so,” you admit, smiling sheepishly as you go to switch on the light hanging in the centre of the foyer. Christ, it’s a tip – you and Katie are equally dishevelled, leaving shoes and lip gloss and hair ties and clothes in your wake wherever you venture. “Can’t be too careful,” you add – very aware of how uncareful you are being.

“Do I scare ye?” He asks coyly, taking a raffish drag of his cigarette.

“I dunno,” you answer frankly, leaning bashfully against your front door with your hands tucked behind you. “Should I be scared of you?”

“Mm,” he shrugs, “probably.”

You purse your lips and nod. “Stranger danger,” you remind yourself.

“I reckon you’re a lot more dangerous than me,” he grins.

You frown. “Why’s that?”

He puts his cigarette between his lips, holding it with a pinch, taking a puff as he eyes you scrupulously. “Look at you.”

You suck your bottom lip between your teeth. Fucking hell.

“I have a flatmate,” you finally answer his initial question, and change the subject. “But she’s not home tonight.”

“Good,” he says, milky smoke spilling from his smile.

“Um,” you make noises to fill your flustered silence. “Want to go upstairs?”

He cocks his eyebrows. “Lead the way.”

Pushing yourself from the door, you slip past him and trot up the staircase that sits flush with the panelled wall. The old oak creaks and moans under the weight of his heavy steps, he follows you steadily.

Rushing to get to your room before he can see it, you scuttle across to your bedroom door from the landing, hoping he ignores the kaleidoscope of peeling stickers you’ve tacked above the handle. You shove it open, quickly kicking aside a pair of twisted up panties you had left on your red shag rug.

In a blink he’s behind you, standing in the doorframe, a terrifyingly tall and bulky silhouette against the dim glow emerging from downstairs – made uniquely funny by the rabbit ears sticking up from his head.

You step over the piles of discarded outfit options and switch on the lamp by your bed; the yellow bulb glows coral pink from behind the vintage fabric lampshade. Looking back at him, he’s already perusing your room like it’s a museum.

He picks up and analyses the assortment of trinkets on your shelves and chest-of-drawers (old jewellery, empty lighters, some strange ceramic babies you once picked up at a flea market), and admires the mosaic of posters on your wall (Gorillaz, Feist, The Killers, MGMT, Arcade Fire, The Strokes, Peter Bjorn and John – careful cherry-picks of your favourite bands, in the hopes you’d one day impress some hot guy with taste as good as yours).

“Bit of an artiste, are ye?” He queries, nodding at the easel against your wall – housing a half-finished and long-hated painting of yours, an attempt at a masterwork copy of Monet; sitting amongst a bombsite of palettes, brushes in dirty cups, and curled-up tubes of oil paint.

“Guess so,” you answer. “It’s my degree.”

He leans into your hideous painting, taking a drag but careful not to stain the canvas with the smoke. “Still studying, then?”

“Yeah, uh, my Master’s.”

He nods. “If you’re already this good, what does a Master’s in painting get ye?”

You snort. “Good fuckin’ question.”

Feeling suddenly shy, you venture to busy yourself, electing to pull the curtains shut over your window.

You hear him chuckle while you aren’t looking. “What’s this?”

“What’s what?”

You spin on the ball of your foot, and freeze instantly – stare caught on your grape-coloured vibrator, held comfortably in the palm of his hand, he tosses it and catches it again. You had left it on your bed, a rookie mistake. You fucking idiot!

Your hand shoots to cover your mouth, fire burns white-hot behind your cheeks; but you can only giggle, humiliated. “Put that down,” you plead into your palm.

Ignoring you, he inspects it, quickly finding the button to turn it on; its buzzing rings out obnoxiously loud into the cripplingly awkward silence, forcing you to grimace. He doesn’t seem to find it awkward at all, holding the end of the purple rod into his other hand, curling his lips in disapproval as he evidently evaluates the vibration against his skin.

“Never understood why you girls like these things,” he remarks insouciantly.

“Please put it down,” you cry, staring at the ceiling as if it might hide you from the embarrassment.

He only sniggers. “Cannae compare to the real thing.”

You cover your eyes. “It fills the void,” you quietly admit.

He finally switches it off, but continues to fiddle with it as he ambles towards you. “Mustn’t do a very good job o’ that.”

Uncovering your face, finally, you jolt when you see how close he is to you – only a foot between you, you can feel the heat of him from where you stand. You do your utter best to prevent your eyes from jumping to the vibrator in his grip, but he still toys with it, as if just to taunt you.

“What makes you say that?”

He gazes down at you, lips stretched into a smug grin. “Why’d you invite me in, eh?”

You swallow, stifling a giggle – you look around capriciously, anywhere but his drilling stare. “Just wanted to help you out.”

“Help me out?” He interrogates you, inching forward, forcing you to step onto your back foot.

You’re suddenly short of breath. “I didn’t want you to get stabbed.”

He gleams that cheshire smile, suddenly his canines seem sharper. “You’re a bad liar, wee bunny.”

“Am I?” You utter, shambling back further has he continues to encroach.

“Took me to yer bedroom straight away… didn’t even offer me a drink…” he teases, “I’m thinkin’ ye want me to help you out.”

You feel a sudden bump as your back hits the door of your cupboard, shrinking as he leans over you, closing the gap. Your eyes catch on his lips as he again places his cigarette in between them, its smoke drifting softly over your face, your stare lingers.

“Dunno where you got that idea,” you breathe, entranced by the cloud that’s left in his mouth once he tugs the roll out again.

Don’t be stupid. Don’t be stupid. Don’t be stupid.

Ignoring any remaining shred of common sense, you step up on your tiptoes to slam your lips against his, sucking down the smoke lingering behind his teeth deep into your chest. He matches you with no hint of hesitation, leaning into you with the full weight of his body, you hear him finally drop the vibrator as it lands on the carpet with a dull thud.

Fuck, his tongue tastes good – like tobacco and peppermint chewing gum, soft and hungry as it writhes against yours. He does what he can with his one free hand, starting tastefully with a cup of your cheek, then a hold of the side of your neck, down to your shoulder – before plunging into a greedy handful of your breast, kneading it like dough.

His wet and eager lips drag along from yours, taking soft bites out of your cheek, hot tongue licking from your jaw to your neck, where he burrows his teeth. You let out a breathy whimper, fervid fingers clutch and claw at his chest through his t-shirt, using the fabric to pull him closer. His busy hand ventures along your waist, taking a palmful of your hip and tugging it only slightly towards him.

Impatient, ravenous, your fingers slither down his firm stomach to the waistband of his jeans, fumbling to get his button undone; you feel him smile against your skin, a breathy chuckle, before his other hand moves to stop you with a hold of your wrist.

He releases your neck from his maw, standing upright with a fucking cocky and self-satisfied grin plastered on his face. You let go of his button and return your hands to your sides, worried you’d been too eager, put him off with your fervour.

“Glad to know it’s this easy to get ye hot n’ bothered,” he drawls, taking another drag of what is now nearly just the butt.

“No idea what you mean,” you pant, utterly breathless, you sweep some stray hair from your forehead with your palm. “I’m not hot and bothered.”

“Aren’t you?” He goads, and the hand that clutches your hip sneaks towards your centre, prompting you to hold your breath; he snakes it over your mound, gliding it brazenly between your closed legs.

His shrewd eyes watch you, arrogantly, as he palms your aching pussy through the thin fabric of your bodysuit – under which you wore no panties, you wonder if he can feel how damp it is. He pushes a coaxing pressure against your covered clit with the heel of his palm, forcing you to whine in desperation; your insatiable hands return to his chest, balling the fabric of his t-shirt into your fists – and he only chortles.

“I could fry an egg on that,” he says.

And suddenly you snort, breaking into cackling laughter as you shove him away with both hands. “God, you’re disgusting!”

He laughs with you, proud of himself, he finally takes off the fucking bunny ears.

“I could hang a towel on that,” you jab, eyes suddenly caught on the frightening tent pitched in his roomy trousers. That can’t be real.

“You could hang a lot on it,” he agrees rakishly, chuckling, palming the length under his pants to tuck it away.

You try to contain your giggles as you push yourself upright, attempting to un-fluster yourself by smoothing your hair and wiping the dampness of his saliva from your neck. You feel the slippery wetness of your cunt with a step. “You’re evil,” you spit, still throbbing from his attention.

“Cannae fuck you yet,” he declares bluntly, turning to dump the end of his cigarette into your paintbrush cup full of brown water.

“Why not?” You pout, whingeing like a spoilt brat.

He returns with a debonair grin. “Gotta give you a reason to see me again.”

#johnny mactavish absolutely fucks with a brow ring #johnny soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap x female reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #call of duty fanfic #cod fanfic #indie sleaze #johnny soap mactavish smut #soap x you

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 2 months

Text

The Dangers of Hope Ch. 8

Series Summary: When Y/N shows up at Camp Chitaqua with her little girl in tow, her bloodshot eyes leave no doubt that she's infected. Or is she? Everything Dean has come to know for certain over the last five hellish years, is about to be challenged.

Pairings/Characters in the series: Endverse!Dean x Reader, Emma (OFC), Castiel, Sam Winchester, Lucifer, Michael, Zachariah, Risa, Johnston (OMC), Patrick (OMC), Theresa (OFC), other survivors and soldiers.

Series Explicit 18 +/Warnings: Show level violence, some gore, angst, smut, fluff all the usual for a series of mine. ❤️ Endverse!Dean (that's a warning for his anger and callousness as well as his extreme hotness. 😁) Each chapter will have their own specific warnings.

Chapter Warnings: Angst, fluff, some smut.

Word Count: 6,667

A/N: So, I've had this idea for quite a while. Basically since I watched The Last of Us. I loved Pedro in the role of Joel, but I kept thinking how incredible Jensen would have been. Which then made me think of how amazing he was as Endverse!Dean which then led me to this idea. Lol! I've stolen the premise of Ellie's storyline from TLOU, but made her a grown up, a reader insert, and a love interest for Dean.

If you've never seen TLOU, don't worry - you don't need to have seen it to understand this story. 😊

I've taken some liberties with the Endverse in my story, changed a few things from canon, but kept lots of things too.

I sincerely hope you enjoy the story. It will be ten chapters and I will do my very best to post one chapter every weekend. ❤️

A/N 2: As I said in a previous post, this chapter just kicked my ass. I hope after battling with it for so long, you find it worth it. 😊

Series Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

The dividers below were created by @saradika

Y/N and Dean followed Cas into the tent, curiosity hurrying their step. When they entered, Y/N went to sit beside Emma on her cot and smoothed back her daughter’s messy hair. “You were supposed to be sleeping.” She said, her tone scolding.

Emma just shrugged and Y/N rolled her eyes. Dean added some wood to the stove to warm up the tent a bit more before coming back to where Cas stood impatiently. Dean crossed his arms over his chest and lifted a hand towards Cas.

“Okay, Cas, what do you know?”

Cas opened his mouth to speak but then looked down at Emma. “Perhaps…perhaps the child should be removed.”

Y/N felt Emma tense next to her, but before she could say anything, Dean leaned down to scoop Emma into his arms, settling her against his left side.

“No, she’s fine.” He kissed the top of Emma’s head. “Right kiddo?” Emma nodded and beamed up at Dean before she tucked her head under his chin and snuggled into his chest.

Y/N felt like her heart might burst with happiness and warmth as she saw the evidence of the deep connection that had been forged between Dean and Emma. She was so distracted by the sweet moment that it took her a second to realize Cas was speaking to her.

She looked over at him and shook her head. “Sorry, Cas, what did you say?”

The angel sighed heavily, and repeated himself. “I asked you how old you are.”

Thrown a bit by the question, Y/N frowned. Cas thought he understood her reluctance and tried to address it. “I realize that it's a generally accepted practice to never ask a woman her age but this is important.”

Y/N chuckled and shook her head. “No, it’s fine, Cas. I’m twenty-eight.”

The angel’s eyes lit up. “What month and year were you born?”

“Um, March 1986. Why?”

Cas clapped his hands together once. “I knew it!”

Dean seemed as confused as she was. “Cas, man, what are you talking-”

“When did Azazel die?”

Dean pulled up short as Cas interrupted him and then he was clearly wracking his memory. “Uh…I think 2006 or - no,” he corrected himself, “no, it was 2007. May 2007.”

Cas looked back to Y/N. “And how old were you in May 2007?”

She tried to do the math quickly, but Dean answered for her.

“Twenty-one.” His voice was almost a whisper and it sounded full of awe. “You were twenty-one.”

Y/N stood up from the cot, tired of craning her neck to look up at the two tall men. She shoved her hands into her jacket pockets and shrugged. “Yeah, that seems right. Why?”

Dean and Cas exchanged a look and then the angel’s handsome face split into another rare smile and Dean followed very quickly - a bright beautiful smile spreading across his face. It didn’t matter that Y/N had no idea what they were so excited about - Dean’s pure, unfiltered smile was like sunshine and it warmed her just as much. She couldn’t help but smile back.

Dean looked down at her, his expression full of wonder before nodding and looking back at Cas. “Yes. She was twenty-one when Yellow-Eyes died. That’s why the psychic connection was never triggered between them. By the time she turned twenty-two, he was already dead.”

Cas was nodding. “So, she has the blood in her system, hence the immunity, but -”

“None of those pesky psychic side effects.” Dean finished.

Y/N put up her hands. “Okay, you both have to stop speaking in riddles and explain what the hell you’re talking about.”

Dean shifted Emma to his other arm, so he could face Y/N easier. “The demon gave you his blood; we know that for sure because you're immune to the bite you got, and there’s no other way that could be true. But every other person I've seen with the blood in their system started getting various kinds of psychic powers as soon as they turned twenty-two. But,” he pointed at Y/N, “you don't have them.”

He smiled at Cas. “And now we know why.”

He looked back at Y/N and his face was the happiest she'd ever seen it as he continued explaining. “Because by the time you turned twenty-two, the demon was already dead. So the psychic connection couldn't be made between the two of you.”

He was beaming at her, and Y/N smiled back, but she was slightly confused by his joy. She shrugged. “Well, that's…good.”

Dean shook his head. “It's so much more than good, sweetheart.” His voice dropped to a whisper of awe. “It's a cure.”

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat. “What?”

Cas moved closer. “Don't you see? The antibodies in your blood, they can be used to create a vaccine. And now that we know there's no inherent, potentially evil, psychic powers associated with the blood itself, there's nothing stopping us from trying to make one.”

Y/N felt an incredible sense of surreality fall over her, like she was suddenly in a very vivid dream.

A cure.

A cure for the world.

Inside of her.

It suddenly felt very hard for her to breathe, like she might just float away.

But then Dean's big hand was on her cheek, pulling her back to reality, grounding her with his warmth and the light in his emerald eyes.

“This is incredible, sweetheart. But it’ll be a process, probably a very long one. So, don't let it overwhelm you right now. Small steps, remember? Small things will add up to big wins, right?”

Y/N was so grateful for his steady calm and strength. She nodded as tears filled her eyes and she closed them, leaning into his palm.

“What's wrong, Mommy. Why are you crying?” Emma's little voice sounded slightly worried and Y/N popped open her eyes to see Dean kiss her forehead.

“Nothing's wrong kiddo. Mommy's just happy.”

Y/N nodded in reassurance, smiling brightly to put her daughter's mind at ease. “Yeah, baby. These are just happy tears.”

Emma seemed satisfied and smiled back.

Cas spoke again, his deep voice rumbling through the tent. “You know Y/N, it’s also unlikely that the responsibility will fall solely on you.”

Y/N and Dean looked at Cas questioningly as the angel explained.

“Well, Azazel never turned just one child at a time. He spoke of generations, didn’t he? So, there would be Sam’s generation, born in eighty-three, and now we know Y/N’s generation born in eighty-six. There may have been others. We don’t know when he stopped creating his psychic kids. So any kid he visited after nineteen eighty-six would have the blood with no psychic connection.”

He shrugged. “So, we could be talking about dozens of immune people, potentially more, depending on when he stopped. There may be many people out there that are just like you, Y/N.”

Dean pulled Y/N into his side and shook his head. “No, there’s no one like Y/N.”

Cas seemed confused for a moment as though they simply hadn’t understood what he said. But Dean just shook his head again. “It’s okay, buddy. You’re right. We’ll have to try and figure out his system, how he did things, how and why he chose the kids he did. That’s gonna be a lot to try and search out. We should start figuring out how to go about researching with our very limited resources.”

Cas looked like he thought of something, opening his mouth to speak. But then he stopped himself and just nodded. “Yes, research.”

The three of them talked for a long time, going over thoughts and theories without coming to any firm conclusions.

Finally Emma let out a loud yawn, and Y/N wrapped her arm around Dean’s waist. “But Dean’s right. We’re not going to figure everything out right now. Small steps. We’re all snowed in here for a couple of months now, right? So, we can take that time to try and come up with a game plan for spring.”

The men both nodded and Cas moved towards the exit, but Dean called him back. “Wait, Cas.”

When the angel turned back to him, Dean took two long strides towards him and then pulled him into a one armed hug, trying not to bounce Emma too much as he was pounding him on the back.

“Thanks, man.” He said, his voice slightly rough. “For everything. And for…not giving up.”

The angel was obviously awkward with the show of affection, and just patted Dean on the shoulder. He was looking down at the ground as he answered him. “Actually, I gave up many times. I just couldn’t manage to stay given up.” He said with a shrug.

Dean chuckled. “Well, then thanks for not staying there.”

The angel nodded and left the tent.

Silence reigned for a moment before Y/N took a deep breath and then turned to her daughter. “Okay, baby, I think it’s time for you to actually go to sleep now.” She admonished her with a smile.

Emma pouted slightly, but then giggled as Dean tossed her gently into the air, and then swung her downward to let her feet touch the floor. He held the back of her head in his big hand as he kissed the top.

“Goodnight, kiddo.” He looked at Y/N. “You’re low on firewood, I’m gonna grab you some more.”

As Dean went out into the dark, Y/N tucked Emma back under her thick blankets. She leaned forward to kiss her cheek, and Emma's expression turned curious.

“Mommy, are you going to marry Dean?”

Y/N felt her jaw drop. “What?”

“Are you going to marry him now?”

Y/N shook her head. “Where is this coming from? Why are you asking?”

Emma shrugged her thin shoulders. “In the fairytales, after they kiss, they get married.”

Y/N just chuckled. “I don’t know baby, it’s way too early to think about that.”

Emma’s brow furrowed in confusion. “It’s nighttime.”

Y/N laughed happily. “Yes, it is.”

Emma’s expression cleared and she smiled shyly. “I like him.” She nodded as though confirming her own words. “Lots.”

Y/N booped her nose. “I like him lots too, baby.”

In fact, I’m madly in love with him. She admitted to herself and the feeling warmed her.

She’d known it for quite a while, and in fact she wondered whether she’d actually fallen in love with him when she was sixteen years old and he came to save her from the dark. It was entirely possible. But either way, she was completely in love with him now.

But she didn’t say any more to Emma, telling her goodnight one more time and then moving slowly around the tent, putting things away and straightening up the small space.

As she tidied, she worked to process everything, all the incredible information that had been relayed to her so quickly tonight. But the long term effects of Cas’ revelation made too many emotions and thoughts swirl around in her mind. It was a bit too much to contemplate at the moment, so she pushed it aside.

Instead she let her mind drift back to the memory of Dean’s kisses, before Cas had shown up. The way his lips had felt as they moved against her skin was lodged firmly in her memory and it made her sigh.

Her mind slid back to the way he’d touched her, the way his deft fingers had played her like an instrument. The memory of him pushing into her body, of how he’d so easily plucked pleasure from deep inside of her, had her biting her lip as wetness flooded her again.

Her excited reverie of Dean was interrupted as the man himself came back inside with an armful of firewood. He walked towards her, stopping short when he saw her heated expression as she looked up at him. A slow, knowing smile crossed his face.

“Penny for your thoughts, sweetheart.” He said. “Or, let me guess.” He moved to the box beside the stove and unloaded the wood before turning back to her and pulling her into his embrace.

His voice dropped low and quiet as he spoke into her ear. “Thinking about our time outside the tent?”

Y/N nodded, and then dropped her hand between their bodies to cup the slight bulge behind his zipper. “Yeah, I’m very sorry we got interrupted.” She whispered back. “I guess I owe you one.”

Dean growled quietly and she chuckled. He kissed her lightly, his lingering lips telling her that he wanted so much more. But he pulled back.

“Looking forward to it.” He said with a smirk. Then he sighed. “But for now, I should head back to my tent and let you get to sleep.” His voice and his expression were full of regret.

Y/N nodded and then shrugged. “Or…”

She thought of Emma asking about kissing and marriage and realized that they clearly weren’t actually hiding much from her. So she decided to just go for it.

“Or, you could stay the night here.”

She was quick to elaborate her offer when Dean’s eyes got wide. “I mean, we’d just be sleeping. But it would be nice to…” She dropped her gaze to the ground. “It would be nice to wake up with you.”

Dean nodded and lifted her chin with his forefinger so he could smile at her. “Yeah, it would.” He kissed her again softly and then glanced at the narrow cot. “Gonna be a tight fit.”

Y/N laughed and then pressed tight against him. “Well, guess we’ll just have to snuggle a bit then.”

Dean moaned softly. “Not sure if that’s an offer of heaven or hell.”

Y/N smiled wickedly. “Probably a bit of both.”

***

As winter settled heavily onto the camp and the snow grew higher everywhere, rotating groups of ten to twelve people per week were tasked with making sure the snow was shoveled from pathways and piled up safely and effectively against the tents to act as another layer of insulation from the wind.

The food boxes Brandy had suggested were a big hit; everyone already had to deal with freezing trips to the outhouses, so limiting more outside time was greatly appreciated.

For the most part people hunkered down in their tents, but there was one thing that brought folks out - The Mid-Winter Feast, as Y/N had dubbed it. She’d decided that before they had to fight through January, and most of February, always the harshest part of winter, they should have a little celebration of their community.

So, she’d asked Monique, Brandy and a few other interested campers to meet her at the main cabin, with the electrical heat turned on for an hour or so a day, so they could plan. In the beginning, they’d just been planning a small dinner - just people bringing some rations together to enjoy as a group. But as more people became involved, the celebration expanded.

The camp hunters offered to go out into the very cold surrounding forest and hunt down some kind of fresh meat. After a few days of hunting they returned with a half dozen rabbits, two geese and a young buck. So, there would be lots of rabbit stew, a couple roast geese and salted venison for the feast, with a bunch of leftovers too.

The elderly quilt-maker, Hannah, spent an afternoon giving a lesson to the kids (and a few adults as well) teaching them how to make small bannocks over the fire, which were then donated to the feast. All the campers also each donated two days worth of their vegetable rations so that everyone could have a feast of mashed potatoes, green beans and corn.

The camp builders chopped down a tree and brought it into the big cabin. It would eventually be firewood, but for now it was the star of the show. Y/N had the schoolkids take labels off of empty tin cans and fold them into stars as decorations for the tree, while the builders took the empty tin cans themselves, and cut them into wintery shapes like snowmen, sleds, and mittens. The metal was a bit dull, but it still added some shine to the tree when they were hung there.

When Y/N read to the kids in the cabin at the end of the week, parents and non-parents alike came in to listen to the stories while they stood at the tables and folded evergreen branches into boughs and wreaths.

Everyone pitched in, and soon the cabin looked incredible, draped in green and other bright colors.

The actual day of the feast was busy and happy. The rabbit stew was made in a big pot over a huge outdoor fire where the geese were also roasted, and soon the whole camp smelled like sizzling, delicious food.

Everyone carted chairs from their tents to the big cabin, trying to jam them all in. The grownups all managed to sit at the big tables lined up around the room, even though everyone was pressed in tight beside each other. But the kids table ended up being the floor at the base of the tree. But the kids sure didn’t seem to mind; they kept forgetting to eat while they chattered with each other loudly and looked up at the decorated tree with wide and wondering eyes.

Brandy and Y/N made sure that baskets of food were made up and taken out to the soldiers who were at their outposts making sure the camp stayed safe while everyone celebrated.

It was a truly incredible day, and when dinner was finished, and the food packed away safely, they all stayed in the cabin a few more hours, playing simple games like simon says or charades, or talking and laughing together, and just generally enjoying the company of other people before the cold mostly bound everyone to their tent for the next couple of months.

As the evening ended and people began heading for their tents, happily full and tired, Dean came back into the cabin, having gone out a bit earlier to check on his soldiers. He walked up to where Y/N sat with a sleeping Emma on her lap.

He smiled at them as he approached and in that moment Y/N felt a peace flood through her that she hadn’t felt in a very long time. Obviously the world was still dangerous, and they still had so far to go before they were safe, but in that moment she felt completely happy.

When Dean got to them, he reached down to lift Emma out of Y/N’s lap and hold her in one arm, so he could reach his other hand out to Y/N. She clasped it tightly and they walked slowly back to their now shared tent.

As they walked along they could hear people calling out goodbyes to each other, as well as a continued murmur of conversations through the paths of tents. There was a sense of peace and happiness hanging over the whole camp.

Dean stopped in the middle of the path back to their red tent and turned to look down at Y/N. His face seemed awestruck and he shook his head.

“Last winter we all had to huddle in the cabin just to stay alive, and this year we were all crowded in there again, but this time we were actually living. People used to walk around the camp nervous every time I passed by. But now they smile.” He bent his head to press a soft kiss to Y/N’s lips. “You’ve changed everything, sweetheart.”

Y/N blushed. “That isn’t because of me. The winter just hasn’t gotten too brutal yet this year, and everyone helped out with the feast. And if people are less nervous around you, that’s obviously because of you, not me.”

But Dean just shook his head. “No…it’s you.”

***

Six weeks later

“What are we doing here?” Y/N asked with a laugh as Dean finally let her open her eyes and she saw he'd led her to the garage.

Dean was smiling at her. “I wanted to show you something.”

He took her hand and led her around the side of the garage. As they came upon the black Impala that sat beside the building towards the back, Y/N gasped. Snow had been cleared away all around it, and the weeds and grasses that had overrun it had been pulled up. There was still some rust on the doors and the tires were still flat, but the cracked windshield had been replaced and it looked much spiffier than it had before.

The big, black beauty looked like she knew she was getting love again.

She looked at Dean as he brought her closer. “You've been working on her.”

Dean looked a bit sheepish. “Yeah, just when I had a bit of spare time, so there's still lots to do. She still doesn’t have an engine, but I put in a new battery that lets me do this.“

He brought her to the driver's side door and opened it with a heavy creak. He pulled a set of keys out of his pocket, the moonlight glinting off the silver keychain. Then he leaned inside and pushed them into the ignition, turning them so that heat and radio turned on. Of course the radio had nothing but static, so Dean quickly turned it off.

Dean closed the front door to open the back and lifted a hand, inviting her to precede him into the back seat. She climbed into the soft leather seat, Dean following behind her. She could see the inside had been lovingly cleaned and restored.

“This is amazing!” Y/N said enthusiastically, her hand running over the buttery leather of the seat.

Dean nodded, looking around. “Yeah, gotta a lot of work left, obviously. But…”

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply as he took off his jacket. “It's good to be back with her.”

He caught Y/N's eye and his expression became teasing.

“Now let me show you the new feature I installed.” He reached past her shoulder where a thin blanket hung; it was more like a small sheet. He pulled it across the two passenger side windows and then did the same on the driver side. He leaned over the front seat and tucked the ends of the sheet into the visors in the front, effectively closing off the interior of the car, with only a thin strip of the windshield left uncovered.

Y/N laughed as he sat back down beside her. He raised a finger. “And my very favorite feature is this one.” He reached forward again and pushed down the door locks on the front doors before doing the same in the back.

He moaned softly as he leaned back into the seat. “Privacy, blessed privacy at last.”

Y/N was smiling wide as he looked over at her. The heat in his gaze made her blush and duck her head; his need was so raw and blatant it made her stomach clench and wetness pool at her core.

The last six weeks had indeed been both heaven and hell. It had been too cold to go outside very often, so they were mostly left inside the tent, where their touching and kissing was very limited. Stolen moments here and there were simply, not nearly enough.

So to finally be somewhere they could be together, privately with a lock on the door…

Y/N bit her lip. “You said you asked Monique to watch Emma?” Dean nodded. “For how long?”

“Hours. At least. There was talk of a sleepover.” He answered roughly.

Y/N felt her heart beat double time as she watched Dean. The set of his jaw was harsh as he leaned over to pull her easily into his lap so she straddled him. Y/N braced herself against his wide shoulders as he reached up to suck on her pulse point.

He pushed her jacket off of her shoulders and then shoved up her t-shirt so he could cup her breasts through her bra. His voice was a rattling groan.

“Ah, fuck sweetheart, you’re so goddamn perfect.” He murmured as he laid nibbling kisses along the tops of her breasts. Y/N was quickly overwhelmed with her need for him, but she tried to find her breath and form thoughts, so she could tell him something.

But then he thoroughly distracted her as he pushed the cups of her bra up, freeing her breasts so he could push them together and bury his face in the cleavage. He licked and sucked at her skin, teeth scraping and biting as his big hands squeezed one breast and then the other. Y/N lost her thoughts completely as he reached between her legs and pushed at the soft material of her sweats and leggings, pressing them against her soaked core.

He pushed his hand under her waistband, not stopping until he buried his fingers deep inside her. His invasion was so sudden and forceful Y/N cried out loudly as her walls clenched tightly around his thick fingers.

He grunted against her lips before biting her bottom one and tugging on it. Y/N let out a gasp and ground down against his hand. Dean swore and pumped his fingers into her faster and rougher, adding a third and stretching her. The mostly pleasurable sting of the stretch reminded her of what she wanted to tell him and she laid a hand on his wrist where it disappeared into her pants.

“I have…have to tell you something.”

Dean stilled the movements of his hand, but kept licking and nibbling on her breasts. “What?” He asked in a rough voice.

“I um…I think I might…” He sucked hard on her nipple and she ground down against his hand again. He resumed his movements, pumping in and out of her fast and hard. He found her sweet spot and pressed against it, making her fall forward onto him, burying her face in the side of his neck and rambling out the end of her sentence.

“I think I might suck at this.”

Dean stopped moving all together and his breath left him in a whoosh as he pulled back from Y/N and pushed against her shoulder so he could look her in the eye. His brow was furrowed in complete confusion.

“What?” He asked, his breathing rough.

Y/N was embarrassed. “Nevermind, it’s stupid.” She reached for his mouth, but Dean turned away and shook his head.

“No, explain what you mean.” He said as he pulled his fingers out of her body. Y/N groaned.

“No, I don’t want you to stop.” She pulled his hand back so he was cupping her wet heat through her clothes. “Please don’t stop. I just…wanted to, I don’t know, warn you I guess.”

She shrugged. “So you could limit your expectations.”

Dean was staring at her and his expression was incredulous. “Why on earth would you think that? What would make you believe that?”

Y/N shrugged again, embarrassed and wishing more than anything that she had just kept quiet. “It’s just…well, it’s been a long time.” Her face was bright red. “I mean, I haven’t exactly been dating. The last guy I was with was Emma’s father and….”

She swallowed thickly. “...and he was also my first, so…I have, I mean I don’t have a lot of experience. And I got the feeling that…well that he didn’t really like what I was doing.”

She couldn’t look at Dean as she spoke, staring at his neck instead. But Dean called her name softly and she slowly looked back up at him. In contrast to his gentle voice, his expression was fierce, and his eyes were blazing.

“Listen to me carefully. There is no possible way for you to be bad at this.” Y/N opened her mouth to argue, but Dean pressed a finger to her lips. “No. There’s no argument to be had here. The facts are simple, you are stunningly beautiful, sexy as hell, and you make my whole fucking body hard.”

She rolled her hips against him with a slight smile and he groaned.

“God damn woman, I’ve wanted you since that first day I took you to the river and you came out screeching and covered in leeches.” He grinned.

Y/N batted his arm. “You weren’t supposed to be looking.”

His grin turned wolfish as he pulled her t-shirt off completely and unhooked her bra to toss it into the front seat. “Well, I was. And what I was looking at hasn’t left my mind since.”

He trailed the calloused pads of his fingers down the soft sides of her breasts. “You’re so perfect, Y/N and I want you so much. The way you respond to my touch,” he tweaked her nipple and she gasped, “it’s what I dream about. And I can’t get the taste of you off my tongue.”

He wrapped one hand around the back of her neck, pulling her mouth down to him, and sucking her tongue into his mouth. He trailed kisses down her neck, inhaling deeply. “And fuck, when you’re not near me, I can still smell your scent on my clothes. And I get so hard thinking about you that it actually hurts.”

He pressed her hand against his straining cock and Y/N whimpered slightly. She caught his gaze as she reached for his zipper and he nodded, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip as she reached into his pants to caress him. Holding his breath, Dean lifted his hips so he could push down his jeans and underwear, giving her complete access to him.

She held him in her fist tentatively. “Can I…um…”

Dean responded to her truncated sentence quickly. “Yes. Whatever you were going to ask, the answer is yes.” She squeezed him slightly and he groaned harshly. “Yes, please.” He added in a harsh whisper.

Feeling bold and confident now, she slipped down to the floor, her knees scraping against the rough floor mat beneath her. She began placing kisses up and down his rock hard shaft. Then she licked the slit at the tip of his cock before taking the whole head of his dick into her mouth and sucking hard. Dean slammed his head back against the seat and pushed his fingers into her hair, guiding her head as she bobbed up and down.

She pushed as far as she could, until he was at the back of her throat. Then she pulled off him with a gasp, but went right back, getting him further down her throat the second time, and working the base of his cock with a tight fist. Drool and cum dripped down his shaft, lubricating him, and she used it as she pumped him.

Finally Dean tugged on her hair gently and shook his head. “Fuck, Y/N, you gotta stop, sweetheart. I'm gonna come, and I've waited way too long for the chance to be inside you, to move in you and feel your tight, sweet pussy clench around me, feel it pull me into your heat.”

Y/N moaned at his incredibly hot words, and came off of his cock with a pop. Dean helped her up from the floorboards and when she was mostly upright, he yanked down her pants and underwear. They got caught up in her boots and she stumbled back onto Dean’s lap, laughing, her feet tied together. But she was too impatient to try and get her boots unlaced and off, so she just left them. But she tugged his t-shirt up and off of him, kissing a path across his chest.

She held the base of his cock steady as she rose to her knees and lined him up at her entrance. Both of them groaned in unison as she sank down on him slowly. He was so big it made Y/N bite her lip as he stretched her with the same slight sting she’d felt on his fingers. But it was so worth it; the way he filled her so completely made her breathing extremely harsh as she began to rock against him.

Dean pulled her back down to his mouth so he could kiss all the air out of her lungs as she rode him. He slipped one hand down between their bodies and pressed his thumb against her clit, making her gasp and dig her nails into his shoulders as she held on tightly.

The coil in her lower abdomen was getting tighter and tighter as he pressed so perfectly against her. Finally he pulled her nipple into his mouth again, sucking hard and Y/N tumbled wildly over the edge. She slammed her hips up and down on him as she rode out the climax.

Dean pulled away from her breast and grabbed onto her hips, taking over their rhythm, lifting her up and slamming her down against him as she faltered and fell onto his chest. He wrapped an arm around her waist, jackhammering into her tight sheath, and once again swirled his middle finger around her sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Come on, sweetheart. I wanna feel you clutch me tight one more time, just one more.”

Y/N’s head spun with pleasure and she sat up and then leaned back, resting her hands behind her on his thighs. The new angle had him hitting her sweet spot with every thrust. It didn’t take long to send her spinning into another climax; this time when she fell, Dean fell with her, bending forward to nip and lick at the valley between her breasts as he bucked up into her, spending every drop of himself.

Finally he rested his forehead against her sternum and just breathed hot and panting against her damp skin. There was no need for the curtains now, every window was covered in condensation and impossible to see through.

Slowly their breathing returned to normal and Dean wrapped them both up in his jacket. The heat in the car was on, but it was still just late February, and the air was cold on their overheated skin.

They shifted slightly so that Dean was leaning back in the seat and Y/N rested against his chest. She loved the feel of him inside her, even soft, and she wasn’t ready to give it up yet. Dean pushed her hair back from her temple and kissed her there. His breathing was still a bit rough as he spoke.

“Would you care to tell me again how you think you’re bad at this?” Y/N chuckled and Dean shook his head. “Guy was a fucking idiot, obviously.”

Y/N just nodded. After a moment, Dean kissed her forehead. “What happened there, with him? Emma’s father, I mean. Where is he now?”

Y/N sat up slightly and shook her head. “I have no idea. He was gone long before the world ended. Pretty much as soon as the stick turned pink.”

Dean kissed her softly. “Asshole.” He said simply and Y/N nodded again, smiling and laying back against Dean’s chest.

They dozed there gently for a while until there was suddenly a light tapping on the front passenger's side window. They both jolted awake and Dean groaned.

“What?” He called out angrily.

It was Johnston who answered. “I’m so sorry to bug you, sir, but I was told Y/N was here. It’s Emma, she’s hurt.”

***

By the time they got dressed, turned off the car and ran to the medical tent, it was already quite full of people. Monique, Keisha and Julianne were there and both little girls were crying. Brandy and Theresa were there too. Patrick, who'd been an EMT before the end came, and who therefore acted as the camp medic when needed, was standing close to where Emma sat on a folding table that was covered in a sheet.

Her daughter’s big blue eyes were swimming in tears and as she saw Y/N enter she began crying in earnest, reaching her left arm out towards her, while she held the right one close to her body. Y/N could see that her right arm was bent at an odd angle.

Broken.

Her stomach twisted and she felt a bit sick as she looked at it. But she walked up to Emma and pulled her tight against her. “Oh, baby, what happened?”

Monique stepped forward, her face awash in guilt. “I’m so sorry Y/N. The girls were all playing together just outside the tent, while Brandy and I were talking. We’d left a flap open and we could see them. But it just happened so quick we couldn’t stop it.”

Brandy took over the story. “They were all taking turns sitting on Theresa’s back and she was riding them around like a pony, and Emma just took a tumble off her back and…and then just started crying. We got her over here as fast as possible.”

Monique covered her mouth with her fingers. “Y/N, I’m so sorry.” She repeated. But Y/N just shook her head.

“Oh, Monique, no, it isn't your fault. Or anyones.” She said looking at Theresa whose face was ashen and also wore a look of guilt. Y/N kissed Emma’s forehead. “Accidents just happen.”

But Emma’s little shoulders still shook with quiet sobs and Y/N felt awful for her baby girl. Patrick started to lift her arm slightly and Emma let out a painful cry. Dean stepped up behind Patrick, and his voice was hard with authority.

“Be careful what you’re doing.” He scolded.

Patrick just nodded. “Yes sir. I just need to try and figure out how the bone is broken, so I can splint it properly.”

As the medic/soldier poked and prodded as gently as he could, Emma continued to cry and buried her face in Y/N’s chest. Accepting that his soldier was being as careful as he could, Dean stopped hovering over him and moved around to stand behind Emma instead, rubbing soothing circles over her skinny back.

Finally Patrick nodded. “I think it’s a greenstick fracture. I’m gonna get a splint to hold it in place.”

He walked away to a sideboard that had medical paraphernalia sitting on it. As he did, however, Cas walked into the tent. Y/N looked up at the angel, and was taken aback by the way he was staring at Emma. His expression was cautious and a little frightened as he approached her.

“It’s a broken arm.” Y/N explained and he just nodded.

“Emma,” he said quietly, “hold still okay. I think,” he glanced at Y/N and then Dean, “I think I can fix you.”

“Cas?” Dean asked, clearly confused.

The angel lifted his hand over Emma’s arm and for a moment it just looked like he was going to grab hold of it. But suddenly, a white light began to grow beneath his palm and his already blue eyes glowed bright, like blue flame.

Y/N held her breath, as seconds later, the light left his eyes and he pulled his hand away. Emma’s eyes became wide and then she clapped happily. “It doesn’t hurt anymore, Mommy!”

Y/N tried to smile at her daughter, but her eyes fell on Cas, and Dean asked the question uppermost in her mind.

“What the hell, Cas? Since when can you heal anymore?” He shook his head. “What…what does this mean?”

Cas’ face was serious, and the fear Y/N had seen before was still there as he answered.

“I’m afraid that…I think it means the other angels have returned.”

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @akshi8278 @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma

Dean Fics Only: @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @hobby27 @waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96

#endverse!dean x reader #endverse!dean #dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fluff #endverse!dean fan fic #endverse!dean series #spn fan fic series

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dietmountaindewbae · 4 months

Note

young Al anon again, when I mean Dom. I meant horrid cocky piece of shit 20 year old Alex being merciless because he sees the reader as just a groupie from his new fame

xxi. your band is all the rage

alex turner x reader

word count: 6348

summary: Glastonbury festival (2007) was here, you and your friends adventure into the festival, but on the way you get lost, and you run into the boy that was taped to your bedroom walls (fwn! Alex) you didn't expect what would happen next...

warnings: sp*t, or*al, dr*gs, alc*ohl, degr*ting

song recommendation: paper planes by M.I.A

───── ୨୧ ─────

The lingering pre-euphoric feeling of being in Glasto watching and hearing your favorite band live with your most real friends, drinks being poured down your throat like water, and breathing pot smoke like part of the oxygen was magical, it would be hard to forget this year, you recently moved to London for college living in a little flat with your two best friends, and a small puppy that was like your son, staying up late and sleeping until the next day, you had saved up enough for Glasto, all the money that was for the rent ended up in there, but it was worth it, the muddy boots, thick leather jackets, long belts, short skirts, and broken tights, busted knees.

"For fucks sake!" You screamed trying to find a signal in the middle of the field, looking so lost and silly with your arm up high in the sky all stressed up, you had lost your friends after Amy Winehouse went up the stage, and you spend hours trying to find them, and you began to feel worried, and paranoid, the whole day you were stuck together like glue, but then drinks swung one after the other and you were pissed throughout the concerts and suddenly you were alone singing with Amy, somehow you managed to find a spot with one bar of weak signal, you choose to follow that signal until it was getting stronger which let you thru some bushes in the darkness you battled your way out, you walked for a few moments depending on your phone's light for illumination until somehow, you managed to find the camp where everyone who headlined was, you sneaked around when you saw some security walking around the place, you sneaked your way thru some bushes until you found reception again, the trailer that you were hiding behind, for your luck had the door unlocked and you hide from security.

"Shit, shit, shit..." You whispered over and over again, as you tripped over something that knocked you to the table, the moment the lights went on your heart dropped to your stomach as your paths crossed with none other than the boy with a shaggy and short haircut that you've been crazy about for years wearing some denim jeans and a black long sleeve shirt, the one with his face all over your room, you looked for him in magazines and in person he looked just like a normal human.

"Um... excuse me... who are you looking for?" He was alone with his eyes a bit swollen and his hair made a mess as if he had just woken up and was trying to decipher wether he was dreaming you or not, you didn't realize how stupid you were by going inside the trailer, face red, you looked everywhere and anywhere for a quick answer since your brain couldn't develop one.

"I- um..." You awkwardly giggle, "I'm just lookin' for my mates, I lost them or they lost me... I-I dunno... I-I'm sorry I should go, I'm such a prick" Your knees were bruised, but you managed to get yourself up and fix your dress.

"But... how did you get here?" He said, looking at you like you were the dumbest person alive.

His eyes roam your body with no shame, his breathing short as he sees the way your mouth moves as you speak, how your eyes have this little sparkle whenever he looks at you, and how you couldn't hold his gaze for more than a second, your brain taking pictures of his faces, "That's a good question, I've been wondering that myself too... I just found a little bit of reception here, and-"

He clears out his throat cutting you off, "You know what? It don't matter... you can stay, just don't go inside anyone's trailer like that again doll, you can get in serious trouble" He called you a doll, and you smiled to yourself at the fact that Alex fucking Turner had called you a doll, "Want a drink?" Holly fuck, you cursed into your head.

"Sure... yeah that'll be cool" You walked around the monkeys trailer as Alex turned on his blender, throwing on some ice in two cups, all the things that you wanted to say, and scream simply couldn't be spilled out of your mouth as your mind took pictures of every bit of the messy trailer, you could spot Matt's drumsticks, and Nick's bass, you were more than excited when you saw Jamie's owl strap hanged in the settee, and when your eyes ran across Alex's little hard covered open notebook, you wanted to read it so badly.

"Margaritas!" He handed you over a cool red plastic cup, sitting beside you on his olive green settee, "Cheers, love" He watched you pour his margarita down your mouth with the biggest look of relief, he smiled, eying you up and down from the side, you bet you were looking dirty and sweaty, your dress didn't hide much of your body, it made your legs longer with your gold dress and leather belt around your hips, with your dirty rain boots, and your trashed eyeliner with gold sparkles on your eyelids, but not only was your face that captivated him, your smooth legs with bleeding bumps on them, if he looked more higher he could see your pair of black knickers.

"Fuck, I never thought this would happen..." You admitted, pushing your hands through your hair, the palm of your hand on your forehead.

"What?" He leaned in closer.

You sighed looking down at your cup because you couldn't look at his face for long, "It's my first festival" You said with a smile, "Well it's our first festival, and I dunno... I saw this coming but I was hoping it wouldn't happen, losing all of my girls just like that" You snapped your fingers.

"This is what happens when you give young girls more booze than they can handle" He chuckled while you awkwardly laughed at his comment, maybe that was his sense of humor, he saw you smiling so he took that as a sign that you were getting into him, his body began to close the space between yours very slowly, leaning in, "To be honest, I'm sort of glad you crashed here," His arm rested on the head of the couch, his fingers lightly touching your shoulder, "To finally have someone that's easy to talk to" You smiled not quite sure to take what he said as a compliment but you politely took what he said as something possibly positive.

"Well... thank you," You said, smiling and resting your head on his hand, his fingers intertwined with your hair, you felt embarrassed about the way you had rudely woke him up just a few minutes ago, you thought it was the right moment to apologize since he had gone quiet, but what he did was admiring your face, "When I... crashed here, where you asleep?" You asked kindly, he nodded his head, "I'm sorry for waking you up" His hand pats your thigh gently, and you look at him in the eyes, and he shrugs with a smile.

"I'm happy you did though, I dunno why but whenever I'm 'bout to play at any festival I just have terrible nightmares, then you came and I thought I was still dreaming" You blushed at the comment, even if it was a cliché, he was just as you imagined he would be, sweet and shy, handsome as well with a touch of cockiness for some spice, you noticed he wasn't as smooth sometimes when it came to flirting but at least he didn't say anything stupid, he was a dork.

"What was it about?" He shrugged smiling to himself again, he stared into your eyes, something in them thrilled you when they shine.

"About me shoes...." You both break into laughter, he sees that familiar spark in your eyes, your smile charming him, so he decides to leave behind his shyness and take a chance with you, "Can I tell you summat?" You nodded, "This is me first Glasto too, so why don't we make it unforgettable together?" Your head raised when he proposed you to stay with him, his hand landing on your knee.

"You reckon?" He said yes with his head, "Really?"

"Yeah, I can write your girls on the list, we'll have a party after the show ends," With no doubt, you said yes, "You're welcome..." You told him your name and you heard him say it back at you with a smile, you pinched yourself to prove that you weren't dreaming this, but this was real, Alex Turner knows about your existence and asked you to stay with him.

"I don't think I need an introduction, right?" You giggled saying no, "Right then, follow me doll, we're almost up" He put your margarita down, and grabbed your hand turning off the lights of his trailer and grabbed a black coat on the way out, on the walk backstage he never dropped your hand, properly holding it, fingers intertwined, his hand soft, and his fingertips bumpy and thick, you went thru the woods his hand gripping yours tightly until you were at the back of the big pyramid, it was so strange looking at it from that angle but it was still magnificent, there was a big white tent right next to the stage, security stopped you and Alex before going inside.

"She's with me, we also have more people coming with us," Out of his pocket he took out his wallet, sliding some money into the palm of his hand, the big man that was twice the size of you and Alex, nodded his head.

"Names" That's the only thing he said, you wrote them down on a piece of ripped paper he gave you and went inside with ease, the place was poorly illuminated but you recognized everyone, your pulse speeding up when you saw that iconic 60's bee hive black hair of hers, walking towards you with her black tank top, leather belt around her waist and beautiful red skirt and her big eyeliner.

"Aye, kiddo!" Amy approached the both of you with a cigarette trapped between her teeth, "It's wild out there, I just wanted to tell you to have fun, it's big and I'm sure after this you lots will only go up and up" She blew the smoke at your face, you were honored, "And who is this?" She greets you with a big friendly hug and kiss on your cheek, you tell her your name and she scans you up and down, "You look very fit"

You internally screamed, "You were amazing out there, me and my gals were-"

"Meh, a bit shit," She said making you laugh, "But have a nice night, I'll see you at the party right?" She repeated your name and you were only able to nod your head and she said goodbye to you, walking to her trailer with her security.

"Shit, I can't believe that just happened" You covered your mouth, "Amy, just... bloody hell" Alex laughed along with you.

"I know, big fan as well, she's just lovely... come to meet the rest" The rest? you were about to enter into a coma if you met the rest, "There's a signal here as well" Shit, you forgot about that, you walked away for a moment phoning your girls.

"Chelsea?" You yelled, there was a lot of noise but when she said your name you were relieved, "You won't believe what just happened but I'm in the back of the fucking pyramid with Arctic Monkeys and I just fucking saw Amy!" Your friend began yelling like a little child but you managed to explain to her how to get there, "Find Gracie," She promised you she would and to phone you when she was there, you finished the call, and Alex waved his hand at you with a big smile, you ran to meet him, your heart rate speeding when you saw the rest of the guys together.

He pulled you in, his arm around your waist, sticking your body next to his, and introducing you to the guys, "Lovely to meet you" Nick said hugging you and padding your back, Matt and Jamie did as well, and Katie who's Jamie's girlfriend gave you a big hug.

"Finally, a girl! I was tired of all of that testosterone and cologne" Katie pulled you away from Alex, "You don't mind if I steal her away from you for a couple of minutes, do you Al?" He looks at you and back at Katie, she practically had already claimed you.

"Mmm, just don't take long, I want her to see our set" Katie raised her beer and nodded.

"Sure you do... come" She grabbed your hand pulling you to a corner, "I've been dying to fix my hair and makeup!" She said, "Do you mind holding your light and my purse?"

"Oh, no, not at all!" You held your phone up, as she took her lip gloss and mirror out from her little Prada purse, "Shit, I don't know where my bag is" Her laughter was contagious, you were put at ease by her presence.

"You're lovely, do you mind?" She gave you her mirror and you held it up for her as she fixed some gloss on her lips, and some powder on her face, patting it gently on her nose and under her eyes, "Here, have some too," She pats it into your face, taking out some of your runny makeup with her fingers, she put some pinkish lipstick on your cheeks and her cheeks, lastly applying more gloss on your mouth, "Done, let's go back before Al yells at us" Your phone began to buzz like crazy.

"That was fast, my mates are here, I'll be back" She held your hand, she was compromised not to leave your side.

"I'm coming with you" She quickly put her things back in place and ran with you to the entrance hand in hand pushing everyone away with a lot of 'excuse me' and 'sorry', you hugged both of your girls tightly, all of you relieved you were back together, all in one piece.

"Fuckin' hell, where did you guys go?! You left me!" You yelled at them and Chelsea hugged you so hard your lungs ran out of air.

"Gracie saw me running to the bushes to throw up and then we lost you, and then she lost me but I'm fine now!" When Chelsea got drunk she acted like that, that's how your friend was and more than being mad at her you were happy that now you were together.

"Girls, this is Katie!" Katie kindly hugged the girls and all of them already knew who Katie Downs was, the rockstar model girlfriend, a goddess to many girls, all of you looked out to her for pulling Jamie Cook, and now when you went back inside, and saw Alex with that evil cocky smile on his face you could tell he was looking at you shamelessly, when you walk into the room it was hard for Alex to not picture those black knickers falling to your ankles, and that dress to the floor, or your bruised knees getting new ones, you were something else, and Alex wanted you, when he saw you so messy, and so sexy, he just wanted to get to see more of you, get a peek of what was behind that dress.

This time when he saw you, his arm possesively around your lower back, his hand falling to your hip gripping it tight and playing with the studs on your belt. Chelsea quickly caught up on him and the way he was whispering things to your ear and making you laugh, his nose taking a sniff of your scent, he was desperate for the party to come.

"Monkeys!" The staff announced, and Matt alongside Nick were the first to go running up the stairs. Before Jamike walked in, he pulled Katie to a dark corner in the staircase to kiss her deeply gripping her sides tightly, you and Alex crossed looks with each other as you saw them kissing, you blushed when Alex pulled you away to a dark corner before he came up the stairs, caging you in between his arms.

"Aren't you gonna wish me some luck?" One of his hands dropped to your ass gripping it lightly, he bit his bottom lip with a smudge smile, looking at you needy like a teenager, you smiled, taking a step close and kissing his cheek.

"Good luck Al" That's all you said, his smile was quick to come off when he didn't get what he wanted, you could see it crystal clear but you wouldn't let that man go without something to hold on to, you grabbed his hand stopping him, "I'm not done with you yet..."

"Alex!" They yelled but he ignored them when you put his hands on your lower back, your arms wrapping around the back of his head, living a lingering kiss on his mouth, opening it to slip your tongue inside his mouth, his hand went up to your neck, his grip loose around it but his thumb caressed your skin, you took your lips off from his mouth, and he leaned in for more, but you attacked his neck nibbling on his skin, and whispering in his ear, "Would you sing one for me, Al?" Your eyes tender, he smiled and gave you a peck.

"Mmm, yeah babe... just wait for me, I'll show you summat else after I wrap it up here, enjoy the show" He went back with the rest, all of their heads turning to you and Alex, of course, they knew what was going on but you couldn't care less.

"Be careful" Chelsea said, she was more rational than Gracie who was more boy obsessed, she loved boys so much that she, of course, would support your decision to stay with Alex, "You know rockstars, they hit it, lit it and quit it," You hummed as a yes, you were cornered, in the wonder, would it be worth it to spend the night with Alex or to hit and run before he does that to you?

The crowd screams wildly as they see them walk onto the stage, without saying a word they begin to play, everyone recognizes the song in the very first strum of his bronco, and the crowd sings the lyrics along with Alex.

"So who's that girl there? I wonder what went wrong so that she had to run the streets she don't do major credit cards"

As the show settles down after the first song ends, the next no one begins back to back, Alex shared his excitement with the chanting crowd you were dancing and jumping thru the whole gig, "We'd like to play a cover for you Glastonbury, ladies and gentlemen, it's like I said before, you know it only happens once...we're fucking like thrilled, thrilled and we just wanted ...like make it out for everyone to have a good time you know?"

He kept smiling whenever he looked at you in certain lyrics that he dedicated to you when he sang 'Diamonds Are Forever', you had no words to describe how euphoric you felt when you turned 18 you thought your life as a teenage girl was over but you still feel like that young girl that hopelessly wore her heart on her sleeve, when Alex looks at you, a fire in your belly spreads wildly, you couldn't control it, you wanted to be all over him, you didn't care anymore, it was pure young lust, and it was something he wasn't hiding either. At that moment, when he saw thousands of people waving their arms, chanting, clapping, jumping, and throwing themselves, the monkeys felt that they'd made it, all of them had an itch inside their tummies, and all of them could feel it in each other, this was it, this is their moment, this is when they begin.

Alex's lips leaned in closer to the microphone, announcing the next song, "This is called 'Leave Before The Lights Come On' ladies and gentlemen.... and I should stop saying ladies and gentlemen, that must be about the fourteenth time" He quickly turned to see if he had made you laugh, he knew he had embarrassed himself in front of thousands of people but when he saw you smiling he felt fine.

[...]

His intentions were clear, right as he came down from the stage bathed in sweat his hands landed on your hips, there was a spark in his eyes that was hard to control, that fresh concert euphoric bliss that had his eyes so deeply dilated, that angst he couldn't control like an itch on the roof of his mouth, he couldn't console, he wanted to do you and only you.

"Mate, everyone's going to Lily's tent, we'll see you there, reyt?..." Matt said, Alex just nodding focusing your eyes on you.

"Shit, Chelsea and Grace!" Little did you know that they were also hooking their selves with the guys from Fratellis, specially Chelsea as you imagined, you turned to look at Alex and you fetched them.

"Lily's... now" That's the only thing you said but everyone was gonna be back in the trailers of course, either way you managed to get them all, including Kasabian, Fratellis, Amy, and The Killers were there too, you were baffled by the amount of people you met and all the pictures you took with each of them, but it didn't take long until you had to get out for a necessary cigarette break.

Just when you had relaxed and sat on your legs to enjoy your cigarette you heard someone say, "There you were" Your heart speeds when you see Alex, and you quickly stand up and keep smoking.

"I lost you, with all of those girls in there... I thought you had forgotten about me," You said with a hint of annoyance, he nudged his head to the side and said no.

"I'm not finished with you yet... I could have all of them and you know that, right?" That was very hard to accept but who were you kidding? He was right, then he took your cigarette away, pulling you in and pressing your body against him so you could feel how hard he was, he blew the smoke into your mouth wrapping you up in a poisonous and addictive kiss, "Don't flatter yourself" Your cheeks painted dark red without you noticing it, he grabbed your hand and let your way to his camper, both of you knew exactly how things were going to go down.

Alex couldn't wait any longer both getting excited by the anticipation, the ride to his campsite was too far for him, his need for you was too hard, and he needed to get it out of his system, the kiss was enough to get him hooked, he couldn't get you out of his head the whole gig, and the euphoria, and the bliss, and you... he knew you were more than willing, he pulled you to a bench, settling you on top of him.

He pulled your face to his, slipping his tongue inside you the moment your lips parted to kiss him, his hands gripping your ass tightly, your dress riding up to your hips and that was enough for him to take advantage of, feeling your smooth skin and digging his nails into your ass, you sighed when that piece of thin fabric in your body rubbed against the roughness of his blue denim jeans, "Quite needy" You whispered, at that moment he thrusts his hips, you felt that piece of hard meat coming in direct contact with you, your underwear was so thin, you could feel him entirely.

"You couldn't expect for you to just leave me like that, now do you?" He chocked, "I know what you want" His eyes look down to his bulging boner, you oblige, knees on the ground, your hands on his jeans, stroking him, but he already had figured out exactly what to do with you in his mind, he quickly unbuckled his belt, he didn't want to waste more time while you just wanted to warm him up and tease him to get him more worked up, he took out his cock from his belt your eyes widening at the size, you looked up at him, he was impatient pulling your head down to his cock.

Your mouth closed around him but barely did anything, a big sigh of relief left his lips, and you smiled your eyes coming in contact with his, "I don't have all night" He said demandingly, you began to gather up a steady pace, sucking hard but not going too fast, swirling your tongue around his red tip, while your hand strokes the rest of his dick, "Are you gonna blow me or what? You're wasting me time"

He pulled your head back and your hands gripped his thighs to not let him go, "No, no! Wait... I'm sorry" Here you were, down on your knees being the one that apologized to him because you weren't doing a good enough job in Alex's eyes, but he still had a little trace of goodness, and the chances of him treating you more like shit would make you better, he could see how hard you tried, how much you wanted to please him, he wouldn't let down a chance like this, a girl that would beg to suck his dick.

"Sorry won't make me cum, just get down you fuckin' cunt" You leaned in forward, pushing your hair behind your ears, sliding his cock down your throat, he chocked out a groan, his whole body relaxing on the bench, and sighed and said, "Fuckin' finally..." You tried your best to keep your breathing steady, but you couldn't stop gagging around him, his size too thick, you drew some of his cock back, going back to rimming his cock with your tongue, he pulled your head back, and your mouth drooling, "Hey, is this your first time sucking a dick, you lazy whore? Don't act like you can't do better than just gag," Sliding back your comments about his arrogance you took him in.

Alex moaned as he kept watching you suck him more harshly, your cheeks hollowed the outline of his cock could be seen on your cheek, the exaggerated moans that fell from his mouth could tell you than more than enjoying your warm, wet, and greedy mouth he enjoyed himself, he only saw you as that, as something he could use to play with, to make himself feel higher, more confident, and you liked that, you liked how much he enjoyed himself so you began to do the same, your hand sliding down in between your legs, and it was obvious, you were soaking wet by now, you enjoyed giving him head so much, him fucking your mouth like it was your pussy, and possibly spilling his cum down your throat, and how much of an asshole he was with you, how little value he gave to you, it pushed you to be wilder, to try harder, to not be scared of him being more rough, you could vividly picture him fucking you, your walls contracting around nothing by the thought, your clit swollen from rubbing it in harsh circles, the vibration of your moaning making him moan louder and louder, he smiled when he saw you touching yourself.

"You're a dirty little slut touching yourself like that, you like how I feel in your mouth huh?" He asked, "You'll like it more when I fill it up" You moaned loudly as your fingers slid in easily, your fingers fucking your hole harder, "You dirty fuck, I'm gonna fuck your mouth until you can't breathe" He pulled your head down, gathering your hair into a ponytail, thrusting his hips, your screams muffled by his cock, you couldn't stop him, he had lost it the moment you kissed him, and now you were paying for it.

Then, the moment you heard people approaching Alex quickly drew back his cock from your mouth, putting it back inside his boxers and zipping up his jeans, he grabbed your hand picked you up from the ground, and dragged you around the tent, behind a three, both of you could hear the music close, and at any moment, anyone could see you two together and that was so thrilling, it's not like he cared, but he wanted to remain some things private, he leans in forward slowly, backing you up against the tree cupping your cheeks, "Kiss me" You closed the space between you and his body, at first he enjoyed the deep kiss, tasting your warm mouth, something about you was quite addictive, you didn't know if it might be the tiniest trace of nicotine or the fact that he just wanted to feel your insides more than just wanting a simple blow.

Alex flips you, face against the tree, his hands dropping to your hips pulling them forward, "Are your little fantasies coming true? You can't lie to me, I knew you were thinking of summat like this... just wanting me inside you this whole time... and you didn't say anything..." You heard the sound of his zipper coming down, you gripped the wood tighter as Alex pushed your dress up to your back, he finally saw what was underneath your golden dress, that thin pair of black knickers, he pushed them aside, and pressed his fingers down on your clit making you sigh, he smiled to himself gathering up a slow tempting pace.

"You're such..." You were cut off the moment his fingers finally made their way into your panties.

"Such a what?" You couldn't stop gasping as his fingers began to fuck your hole more vigorously, deeper, you couldn't stop moaning his name out loud, even if you tried, he filled you up to the top, your legs losing balance, "Such a good fuck, babe?" You whined when he took himself out of you, rimming his dick on your cunt, spreading your wetness all over it.

"Mhm" You whimpered, the tip of his cock was used to rub your weakest spot in circles, you could feel him smiling to himself, whatever happened to that 19-year-old boy that won your heart with his shyness in his interviews, reserved, quiet, a sweet kind smile, now he was all over you, treating you like a trashy whore, but you loved it, it boosts his ego, but nobody had seen this part of Alex Turner, or even felt it, "You are Alex" You whimpered.

"Be quiet sweetheart, or they'll hear you..." He enters you and keeps fucking you like a doll, pressed against you so tight you were seeing the stars in the black sky shining like diamonds, reflecting in your eyes, you felt butterflies fluttering in your stomach, his lips pressed against your neck, sucking on it harder to leave his little stamp, his mark, "I bet everyone would be glad to know you got fucked by me..." You didn't know how did he have the strength to keep talking to you while he fucked your insides so good. His lips were so soft against your skin, his cock reaches to a place that covered your flesh in goosebumps, his nose tickling your nape, his hands gripping your tits, squishing them together, kneading them.

"Oh... Alex," You gasp, he had such a delicious rhythm that burned your body and his, the tension making the air thicker, harder and harder for you to catch your breathing, you trembled, your cheeks burning hot as your pussy only got wetter, and nipples got hard.

"I felt that... tell me what it is..." He drawled, but you couldn't sound a syllable, you grabbed his hand, sliding down in between your legs, your back arched as his fingers press down on your clit, your head on his shoulder, your long neck so beautiful in his eyes, his other hand chocked your neck, he kissed you as best as he could, rubbing your clit harder as he feels you contracting, your pussy made a mess, wetting your inner thighs, feeling those tickles, and his dick was pushed deep inside you, only to make you finish all over him, your eyes turning white gasping for some air, making you feel lightheaded, and he let go of your neck before you passed out, but you were sure it wasn't because you couldn't breathe, it was because he fucked you so well, "Now is my turn..." He gathered up a giddy pace, so fast that the sound of his hips colliding against your body sounded like applause, your ass turning tender and soft like a piece of dough, he was coming to an end, and so did you for the second time, he pushed himself harder, "Cum all over me cock, you dirty cunt... fuckin' do it" He flicked your clit and you came again, not being able to stand on your feet any longer, he pulled out of you fast to cum on your back, the warm fluid dripping down your hips and bum, "Shit, shit... oh fuck" He gave himself a few strokes to squeeze everything out when he opened his eyes again he began to panic a bit, he researched in his jeans for something to clean you up.

You quietly giggled and kicked your panties off your feet, "Just use these" You panted, he grabbed them and he pushed his lips together.

"But I'm gonna ruin them" He pouts, you wave it off and he cleans up your back, once he is done, you take your coat off, wrapping it around your waist, he feels bad about it, and you can see it on his face, "What's wrong?"

"Ruined a sexy pair of knickers," Your fingers brushed the hairs on his forehead, and you kindly smiled at him, pecking his lips.

"It was for a good cause," You made him laugh, and it was the silliest, sweetest, and most contagious laugh ever, you've heard it before on the radio when they interviewed them, but it was nothing like real life, "Besides, I always keep a spare on my purse" He pushed his eyebrows together, smiling, his smile was the one that made your insides melt.

"Now I'm curious to see what's inside that magical purse of yours," You looked at him with a hint of sadness in your eyes, knowing that maybe it was time for you to go your separate ways as you walked together, but at least for today, he didn't want you to just disappear, so he grabbed your hand and you walked back together, you found a bathroom in the way where you could change, and he waited patiently outside for you, telling your how sorry he was over and over, but you truly didn't care.

You had the time of your life, partying with him and the monkeys, Lilly Allen had turned the party into a costume party, you saw Alex changing into a green dinosaur onesie, drinking beer, and dancing with you dressed like an angel, with sparkles in your eyes and a white dress that Amy lend you in exchange for your golden dress, you kept dancing and drinking until the sunrise with him, smoking some weed with him and Matt in the back, Alex played with you, he stuck with you throughout the whole night, pinching your bum, kissing the back of your head, but mostly he spent most of the time craving the taste of your mouth, kissing you with angst and possession since there was another guy, James from Klaxons that wanted to kiss you, he wouldn't leave you alone, both of you felt like you were flying like planes running and rolling around the grass watching the sun peek behind the giant pyramid. And then, your memory went blank, you had woken up from the floor with your knees and elbow bleeding, blood on your wings and broken fishnets, Chelsea lying on your thighs and Gracie hugging you close, you glanced at your clock, it was 8 in the morning, you woke Chelsea and Gracie up, taking them with Jamie and Katie who kindly gave them water and some food, then you had another worry, it was Alex.

"Have you guys seen Alex anywhere?" You slurred to Jamie and Katie, then Jamie grabbed Katie's hand and went outside with you, you heard the sound of Alex's grunts, and you followed them until you saw him wrestling James in the mud with his dinosaur onesie, his eyes just as red as yours, "Alex!" James was in the mud and Alex quickly went running back to you zigzagging, you couldn't help but laugh so hard it knocked you to the floor, your body and head still felt light, he laid down next to you staining your costume with mud, "What the fuck, Alex?"

"That fucker wanted to kiss you!" Alex's voice sounded a pinch higher when he was drunk, he was annoyed that you kept laughing, "What? He needed to know that you're mine, he can't kiss you"

"So brave!" You teased him, cuddling close to him, "How much grass did we smoke? Jesus... I'm so tired" You turn your head to look at him but he is already staring at your lips, stealing a kiss from you.

"We could go back to the trailer," He pinched your chin, his thumb caressing it gently, and a smile crawled to your lips.

"You're not that tired, are you?" He said no with his head, his hands sneaking to pinch your bum, making you giggle like a child and blush hard.

"I'll do everything, you just have to lay down... and look pretty just like now" He kissed your temple, piggybacking you back to the trailer, closing the door shut.

A/N

Happy Alex Turner day everyone! 💘

#alex turner #arctic monkeys #alex turner smut #arctic monkeys one shots #alex turner fan fic #matt helders #alex turner one shots #jamie cook #nick omalley #indie sleaze #indie rock #glastonbury 2007 #indie parties

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bsstories · 1 year

Text

Teach Me?

Pairing: mikasa ackerman x fem!reader

Rating: nsfw, mature, 18+. MDNI

Word Count: tba, wrote this on mobile LMAO

Genre: smut, fluff, friends-to-lovers, modern au, college au

summary: you & mikasa were childhood best friends that told each other everything. mikasa opens up about her struggles with intimacy and you show her the ropes.

tags/warnings: friends-to-lovers, modern au, college au, fluff, smut (mutual masturbation, guided masturbation, kissing/making out, groping/heavy petting, fingering, oral (f. receiving), praise, light body worship, use of pet names (baby, beautiful, angel, etc.), blacking out after an orgasm) (as usual, if i missed anything, lmk!)

You and Mikasa have been friends since childhood. Ever since you had met, you were attached at the hip. And despite having ups and downs like anyone else, you found yourselves closer than ever during college.

Mikasa has always been the innocent one, the one with that soft, wide-eyed naivety that comes with inexperience. Despite being smart as a whip and wildly talented in everything she does, underneath her quietly dangerous facade is nothing but a quiet, blushing virgin. You, on the other hand, were full of knowledge when it came to sex and pleasure, and though your attempts to help your dear friend learn would suggest otherwise, she could never quite get past her fear of her own body and intimacy. You regularly discuss her hang ups with pleasure but Mikasa was still painfully clueless when it came to her own body.

You didn’t necessarily blame her; in all the time you’ve known her, she’s prioritized her studies and the people she loved above all else. Valedictorian, avid community member, and overall saint, Mikasa never had the time to unwind and explore herself. Sure, her diet was almost as clean as it could be and she was stronger than most of your friends in terms of physical strength, but she was never one to give in the curious voice in the back of her head that urged her to figure out what the hype around masturbation and sex was all about.

One day you’re hanging out together at home alone, trying your best to study but ultimately failing and instead favoring talking about anything and everything else.

You were sat cross-legged on her bed, snacking on some random trail mix you found in your pantry and listening to Mikasa rant about a god-awful date she had gone on the previous weekend. It seemed to only get worse the more she went on and on more than one occasion you had to stop her just to drop in a casual, “what the fuck” or “you’re kidding, right?”

“And then,” she huffed, frustratedly pushing her inky black fringe out of her face, “after making out for no more than ten minutes or so, the fucker goes, ‘can’t we just like… stick it in?’ Can you believe that? It’s the first fucking date! We’re in his mom’s 2007 Toyota corolla! And he wants to just stick his dick in me? He doesn’t even know my last name!”

A disbelieving but amused laugh escapes you as you listen to the animated re-telling of Mikasa’s quite tragic excuse of a date. “I’m assuming you didn’t,” you begin, ��you know, just stick it in?”

Mikasa huffs out an airy laugh. “I- no. No, I didn’t. He- he did finger me though.”

Your hand halts halfway to your mouth, your jaw dropped in surprise. If you had loosened your fingers any more, the handful of trail mix you held would have made a mess all over Mikasa’s grey bedsheets.

“He- you let him finger you?” you repeat disbelievingly.

“Well, yeah? Sort of? I mean, he could only get one finger in because I was too squirmy to let him use any more than that. It didn’t last super long.”

“You were okay with it, right? You gave consent and everything?”

“I did, don’t worry. Honestly, I think I was just hoping that since I was kinda interested in the guy I’d actually feel something for once,” she said dejectedly, visibly deflating at the thought.

You sit up a little straighter, pushing the half-empty bowl away from you. “But you said you weren’t super comfortable with him, right? Mikasa, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but you’re hardly comfortable getting yourself off.”

She seemed to become very interested in her chipped red nail polish then, her head hung as she wrung her fingers together anxiously. “I know. I guess… I guess I was just hoping that this time would be… different? I wanted to feel normal for once, not like something’s wrong with me.”

The words barely leave her lips before you’re on your knees, pulling the girl into a tight hug. You feel her relax against you, arms wrapping around your shoulders. “Mik, I promise you there is absolutely nothing wrong with you. Nobody just knows what they like when it comes to sex; it’s a learning curve. There is absolutely nothing wrong with still figuring out what your body does or doesn’t like and clearly this guy wasn’t the right person to help you discover those things.”

Mikasa seems to freeze up a bit at that, slowly pulling away from your embrace. From behind her bangs, you can see how pink her face had gotten.

“Okay… um… I’m going to say something, and before you react, let me finish first, okay?” the words come out in a rush, something you’re not used to when it comes to Mikasa. She was strikingly well-spoken, incredibly intelligent and articulate. It was rare to see her stumble over her words the way she was right now.

“I- yeah, of course. Go ahead, love.”

Mikasa sucks in a breath. You can’t tell if it’s to mentally prepare herself from whatever it was she was going to ask you or because of the affectionate pet name that happened to slip out when you responded to her. “So… I was thinking… You’ve been trying to help me with this whole sex thing for a long time now and you’re the only person I have ever been comfortable talking to about all of this… You’re my best friend and the person I trust more than anyone… and I don’t want what I’m going to ask to change or ruin anything at all, but I’m getting a bit desperate and -“

“Mikasa, you’re starting to freak me out. What is it?” you interrupt. And you weren’t lying. Her rambling was so out of the ordinary that it was probably way more concerning than what she was so scared to ask.

“Canyouteachmehowtomasturbate?” she rushed out finally.

You sit there for a moment, processing. It takes a second to understand what she said since it all came out in one breath, and then another second to recognize what it was she was asking you to do. And for the second time tonight, you feel your jaw drop.

“I- what?” you say intelligently.

Mikasa avoids your gaze but you can still see the embarrassment in her expression and the nervous fidgeting she’s doing with her hands. It’s rather cute.

You raise your eyebrows at your own thought. Where the hell did that come from? Your best friend asks you to teach her how to masturbate and immediately you’re attracted to her?

But… how immediate was it really? Mikasa was objectively very beautiful. She had a kind heart and intelligence beyond words. Her physical beauty only reflected how gorgeous her soul was. Sure, you’ve always admired her, but it was never anything more than a friend appreciating a friend… or was it?

Mikasa was your rock, the person you cared about more than anything. You didn’t think something like this could ruin the relationship you two had, but who knows? All you knew was that you’d be damned if you lost her just because of some sort of post-vulnerable-moment awkwardness.

You brushed your thoughts away and grounded yourself by pinching your thigh. Mikasa was your best friend. And she needed your help.

“You know what, never mind. That was such a stupid thing to say, I’m so sorry I even mentioned it-”

“Okay.”

This time, it was Mikasa’s turn to freeze up. You almost laughed at how cute she looked completely and utterly shocked. Her mouth opened and closed a few times as if she was trying to find the words to respond but couldn’t.

Eventually, “I- okay? Okay, like…”

“Okay, like, I’ll help you.” You said.

Mikasa stared at you like she couldn’t believe you had agreed.

You take a deep breath. This was going to be interesting. “Um… I guess the absolute first step is going to be getting yourself into the mood.”

Your ebony-haired friend seemed to suddenly snap out of her disbelief at your words. “Woah, we’re gonna start right now?”

“I’m sorry, did you want to postpone this to later? Do you have somewhere else to be right now?”

Mikasa shoves your shoulder, face red-hot with embarrassment. “Oh, fuck off. You know I’m awkward with these things.”

“That’s what we’re trying to fix right now, babe,” you answer smugly. The girl across from you rolls her eyes.

“Fine. How do you suggest I ‘get in the mood’?”

“I mean personally, I’m always horny,” Mikasa snickers in response. You decide to ignore her. “But to get me going I usually will read some smut or just start teasing myself if I have the time and patience.”

“Sure, but… I get horny too and nothing really comes from it. Literally, I guess.” You both giggle at her unintentional pun. “My biggest problem is that I don’t know how… I don’t know what…”

“You don’t know how to touch yourself?”

Mikasa flushes, avoiding your gaze. After a beat or two, she nods in affirmation. You suck in a breath.

“Do you want me to show you?”

Silence.

And then, “Yes.”

Time freezes for a moment and you find yourself unable to breathe. You certainly weren’t expecting your study date to be productive, but there was no way you could’ve guessed it was going to turn out to be a tutoring session for masturbation. But looking at your best friend now, all pink-faced and embarrassed, big doe eyes wide with incredulity and chest heaving in anticipation, you can’t say you’re disappointed with how the day turned out.

Wordlessly, you start to shed your jacket, letting it drop off the side of the bed with a near-silent plop. Mikasa watches you intently as you go to grip the hem of your t-shirt and then nods when you look at her questioningly, a silent request for permission.

You’ve seen each other in only underwear - sometimes less - countless times. This wasn’t new or different for you two by any means. But the context, the atmosphere, could not be less similar.

“I’m going to show you what I do, and then if you’re comfortable with it, you can start to copy me.” you say softly.

“Okay.” Mikasa responds almost breathlessly, watching as you continue to strip until you’re left in only your underwear.

You had to admit, there was something strangely erotic about the situation you found yourself in right now. Thinking about your frustratingly attractive best friend watching you as you got yourself off was more hot than you’d thought it would be.

“I always get myself comfortable. I don’t like being fully dressed when I masturbate if I can avoid it… it gets too hot. It’s also just easier to tease and work yourself up if you have easier access to your own body,” You explain. You lean against Mikasa’s headboard clad in only your bra and panties and slowly begin to trail your fingertips over your breasts and stomach.

“This would probably be around the time I get some reading material or porn out if I’m feeling frustrated. But I don’t really need it right now,” you’ve started to ramble as you realize just how quiet and focused Mikasa had become. Her gaze was locked on to your hands, watching with an unreadable expression as you traced the cups of your bra and underwire. You clear your throat and continue, “I’m not the most sensitive around my tits unless I’m about to get my period. So right now, for instance, they’re a lot more tender than usual.”

You take a deep breath before finally pulling the cups of your bra down, exposing your chest to your best friend and to the cool bedroom. Your fingertips instinctually travel to your nipples and begin to play around with them, rolling them between your thumb and forefingers and giving them an occasional tug. “I kinda skip this bit when I’m super sexually frustrated but for the sake of… what would you even call this? A demonstration?” You giggle nervously for the sake of it, Mikasa half-heartedly joining in. Her bottom lip was caught between her teeth in a way that almost seemed painful. “You okay, Mik?”

Dark brown, almost black eyes snap back up to meet yours. Her cheeks flush pink as if she just realized that she had been caught staring. “Oh… yeah, yeah I’m good.”

You nod slowly. Without even really thinking about it, you reach around your back and unclip the restrictive garment, sighing in relief as it loosens and falls to the top of the bed. “God, I hate those things.”

Your fingers find their way to your mouth as you subconsciously wet them and bring them back to your hardened nipples, a small gasp escaping you at the feeling.

“Now is usually about when I get myself more… wet, I guess? Jeez, it’s so weird saying this all out loud,” you comment quietly. “I love lightly stroking my inner thighs. They’re super sensitive and usually get me going the quickest.”

You shift a bit more in an attempt to get yourself comfy. Then you realize that you literally have to spread your legs in front of your best friend, who you realize, again, has fallen uncharacteristically silent for the nth time that evening. But the familiar warmth in your lower tummy and the thrumming in your veins prevents you from thinking too much of it, rather encouraging you to get on with the demonstration.

You were so consumed with the details that you hadn’t even realized that your attempts to get yourself horny had worked just as well as usual, if not more so.

Without any further hesitation, you spread your legs, essentially presenting your absolutely sopping pussy to your best friend. You follow through with your own instructions, carefully tracing your inner thighs with your fingers and gradually getting closer and closer to your core.

“At this point,” you breathe out. “I may start teasing myself over my underwear.” Your fingers dance over your panty-clad clit and you sigh, your hips pushing forward into your hand. You can feel the way your body reacts to even the slightest touches, your chest heaving and breath quickening, and you forget to say any sort of bullshit before you strip off your panties completely.

Your fingers find your opening almost out of instinct and you’re startled by how slick you’ve become; you were positively gushing, your arousal covering every inch of your folds and dripping down your labia. “I always start with clit stimulation,” you say quickly, fingers finding the bud with practiced ease and beginning to rub slow, steady circles around it. You hum contentedly. “If I’m too lazy to use my fingers or just wanna blow off some steam, I’ll just use my vibrator. But my fingers almost always give me the best orgasm.”

You pick up the pace, rubbing diligent circles around your clit and melting into the bed beneath you. The pleasure is so intense that you lose yourself in it, wholly forgetting that your best friend is there.

But Mikasa?

She is far too invested in the sight in front of her.

Mikasa has always found you stunning. The first time you guys met was when she first asked her mother if she could marry a girl one day if she wanted to. And while she never actively pursued anything past friendship with you, she still loved you dearly. Her attraction to you was just simply never enough to get in the way of your relationship.

But now? Watching you, in your birthday suit, getting lost in your own pleasure and body with little care or hesitation? She’s not sure she can justify putting that attraction on the back burner any longer. The way your back arches off her lush comforter, the way your hips buck every so often when you hit your clit ever so perfectly, the way your nose and eyes scrunch as you let bliss overtake your senses… Mikasa can’t honestly say she has ever seen anything more beautiful.

The little whimpers and sighs that fall from your bitten lips are music to her ears, a song she wants to listen to on repeat until the end of time. When you open your eyes once more to look at her and say, “eventually… eventually I’ll slip a finger or two in”, Mikasa nearly ascends.

The lips and folds of your pussy are absolutely soaked, puffy and swollen from arousal and stimulation. They were drenched in your juices and glistening like gems. When your middle finger finally slips into your waiting hole, Mikasa can’t help the moan that leaves her lips and mixes in with your own, a perfect harmony.

Whether you hear it or not is irrelevant, especially when masturbating has almost never felt this intense. Mikasa watching you has had a much stronger affect than you could have ever anticipated. Thinking about how she looks at you, imagining that your hand was her own has you squirming, your walls clenching and contracting with every new image your mind conjures up.

Suddenly, you’re broken out of your own daydreams by the sound of a zipper being undone. Your eyes snap open in time to see Mikasa shakily pulling off her jeans. The blush that had stubbornly remained dusted on her nose and cheeks had spread down to her chest, which was now flushed a bashful pink. Her tits - ones you’ve always envied for their sheer perfection - were hardly contained by the pathetic excuse of a shirt she wore, nipples hard and poking through the thin cotton. You’re about to beg her to take it off when she shucks it off with the same urgency her jeans came off with.

“Gonna join me?” You smile softly, slowing your fingers but not ever stopping. Mikasa looks at you, pupils blown wide and chest heaving.

“I… I can’t just watch. Feels like torture,” she answers quickly. You suck in a breath as she situates herself opposite of you, spreading her legs in similar fashion as you and never breaking eye contact. It takes herculean effort to not ogle at her chest, but you know that if you even snuck a peak, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from sucking one of her tits into your mouth. Instead, your gaze drops to her pussy, which looks almost as, if not more, wet than your own. Her pastel pink panties were nearly sheer from her arousal. “I don’t think I need to do any of the teasing,” she says bluntly. You nod your head eagerly in agreement.

You dip two fingers into your hole at that point and can’t hold back the moan that leaves you. The stretch was delightful, the curl of your fingertips even more so.

Mikasa’s patience snaps. Her panties are off in a flash and her hand snakes down to her core. She’s pleasantly shocked by how wet she’d gotten, but she hardly has enough time to register the satisfaction before she hears…

“Mikasa…” you sigh.

Your best friend whines in desperation after hearing the way you moaned her name, starting her first attempt to mimic the motions you showed her earlier. Her middle and ring finger trace clumsy but eager circles around her clit… or at least the general vicinity of it. You watch in fascination as the ebony-haired girl takes her bottom lip between her teeth in concentration and quickens the pace of her fingers.

“Whoa, okay. Slow down a bit, Mik, it’s not a race,” you chuckle lightly, your own motions slowing down to prevent yourself from cumming too quick. “Slowly, gently… Okay?”

Mikasa hums in affirmation, slowing her circles just a bit. You watch as her slender fingers play with her simply stunning pussy with both a sense of teacher-like criticism and lust-induced arousal.

“Your clit’s gonna be a little higher than that. Right about,” you draw out the vowels, reaching to grab her wrist with your clean hand and directing it a bit higher. “here.”

At that moment you both look up, realizing how startlingly close you were. Though she was leaning back on her one free hand, you were practically hovering over her; your faces were mere inches apart, so close that you could feel the light puffs of her exhales on your burning face. Mikasa’s eyes dart between your own before falling to your lips. Your tongue subconsciously darts out to wet them.

The girl across from you groans, hanging her head. “You… you’re gonna need to stop doing that,” she sighs. Her head drops to avoid eye contact, out of embarrassment or frustration you don’t know. You raise an eyebrow, tilting your head and trying to regain eye contact with her.

Your words die in your throat. The gaze you’re locked in with your best friend is way more than just intense. You can’t seem to look away, not that you’d really want to in the first place. Mikasa looks desperate in a way you’ve never seen before, pupils blown out completely and breath coming out in short pants.

You can’t resist dragging your eyes over her figure this time; her whole body was covered in a light layer of sweat and glimmered under the purple LED lights in her room. The hand you had a hold on was trembling slightly and you moved to grab on to it reassuringly. It’s quiet enough in her room that you can still hear the sound of her gulping over the low music you had switched on earlier. You couldn’t seem to take your eyes off of her, letting your gaze move back up to her eyes. “Mik…” you call out softly.

The nickname seems to be her breaking point. Without any apparent hesitation, Mikasa sits up and presses her lips to yours, locking them in a gentle yet searing kiss. You can’t help but make a small noise of surprise in the back of your throat, but as her previously busy hand slowly travels up your arm to cup the back of your neck, you find yourself melting into her body.

Her lips are some of the softest, if not the softest, you’ve ever felt in your whole life. As she began to move her mouth against yours it took everything in you to not audibly curse yourself out for holding back for so long. You let your body react the way you’ve always wanted it to, your arm snaking around Mikasa’s waist and pulling her body flush against your own. She gasps into your mouth but you silence it almost immediately with your tongue, trying to memorize the feeling and taste of hers. She clings to your shoulders as you lean back, propping herself up on your lap with your chests pressing against one another’s.

Every inch of skin that makes contact with Mikasa’s feels as if it’s aflame, each matching heartbeat sending blood rushing to your head and heat spreading down to your pussy. Your hands are insatiable, never lingering in one place for too long and desperately trying to feel every dip and curve of your best friend’s figure. They eventually settle in her unusually wild ebony hair, tangling up in the soft strands and gently maneuvering her so you had access to her neck.

You find yourself pressing frantic, open-mouthed kisses along her jugular, nipping and sucking more and more as you make your way closer to her chest. Her sweet moans and little whimpers spur you on, motivating you to wordlessly worship every bit of her body.

“Mikasa,” you breathe, pulling away for a moment. You heard her whine quietly and see her try to chase your lips with her own, but your tightened grip in her hair stops her. “Baby… please let me help you make you feel good.”

The girl in your arms freezes for a second, processing your words. Maybe it’s because even after making out with you for a few blissful moments she still isn’t sure how she found herself in this situation, or perhaps she was still nervous about her past experiences getting in her way of having a good time. But after a moment of thinking about it, however, she nods eagerly. “Please,” she finds herself whispering against your lips, feeling the wetness between her legs grow exponentially just thinking about what you wanted to do to her.

You grin and kiss her again, this time long and slow… it’s sensual, the way your lips slide against one another’s, the way her fingertips lightly trace the curve of your chest and stomach. Your hands find their home on Mikasa’s hips and you gently guide her off of your lap.

Long, lean legs fall open for you almost as soon as Mikasa finds herself on her bed again. You vaguely register her getting herself situated, leaning back on her elbows and readjusting her hips, and instead find yourself (once again) being absolutely entranced by her pussy.

“What do you want, Mik?” you ask quietly, shifting your gaze up to her own as you lowered yourself to your stomach. Your face was only mere inches away from Mikasa’s dripping hole and it took some of the most intense self control of your life to stop yourself from diving straight in. You could hear Mikasa’s breath hitch as you let your hands rest on the insides of her thighs, your fingers kneading at her soft skin.

“You already know.” she says shakily, gripping on to her bedsheets in anticipation as your touch moved closer and closer to where she wanted you most.

“I need to hear you say it.”

Mikasa feels trapped in your stare, like your eyes were boring into her soul. But, strangely, she didn’t feel nervous or scared. Instead, all she felt was intense longing and lust, want that scratched at her heart and throat and threatened to come spilling out the more you worked her up. She takes a deep, shuddering breath before finally admitting, “I- I want you to make me cum.”

From between her legs, you smile up at her fondly, feeling both proud of her courage and endeared by her desire.

Wordlessly, you lower your face down to her cunt, and without breaking eye contact you take your first confident lick.

Both of you groan in unison, Mikasa in response to the most intense and pleasurable sensation she’s ever felt and you in response to how damn good she tasted. You can’t seem to stop yourself anymore now that you’ve finally gotten a taste of her, eagerly beginning to lick her out.

Mikasa is in heaven right now. She’s convinced that you’re an absolute goddess, a gift from above sent to her for… well, she can’t even begin to imagine what she had to have done to deserve you as she watches your eyes unfocus, losing yourself in her pussy. She feels like she can barely breathe while you have your mouth on her, the tip of your tongue prodding at her entrance and flicking at her clit. When you wrap your perfect lips around the bud and give it the first little suck, she has to bite down on her tongue to prevent too embarrassing a sound from coming out.

You’re not the tidiest person to begin with, but you eat Mikasa out like a starved woman, your spit and her slick absolutely soaking the bottom half of your face. You can’t help yourself. Not when Mikasa makes the prettiest noises and pulls on your hair the way she does.

“F-fuck, baby,” she swears under her breath. You hum in response, looking up at her with wide, doe eyes, at which she promptly curses again. It’s a difficult task, pulling yourself away from her, but you manage. Mikasa whines but you shush her softly, your hand moving from her thigh to her folds to keep her stimulated.

“How’re you feeling, angel?” You ask gently, fingertips rubbing slow, tight circles on her clit.

Mikasa looks positively wrecked. But she attempts a weak smile. “You’re too good at this,” she replies. You chuckle, letting your middle finger slide down her folds and push into her hole. Your best friend sighs, letting her head tip back.

“Well, it’s not hard when the company’s good,” you say. She laughs a bit at that but it’s cut off by a strangled moan when you finally let yourself play with her tits. You decide that this is your new favorite spot: two fingers in your best friend’s cunt with your lips wrapped around her nipples.

Your fingers feel around and curl to find the spot that you know will make Mikasa see stars. You know you’ve found it when she cries out, hips jumping off the bed and back arching. The grin that spreads on your face is uncontainable.

“There we go,” you sigh, quickening the pace of your fingers and making sure you hit that same spot over and over again.

Mikasa isn’t sure she’s ever made this much noise with a partner but she can’t bring herself to care in that moment. She can’t seem to control her body anymore either, her hips seemingly working as if they had a mind of their own. The sounds of your fingers sliding in and out of her pussy are downright lewd, and the rhythmic squelching mixed with her moans is pornographic is every sense of the word.

When you trail kisses down her navel and back onto her cunt, Mikasa’s world explodes. Your fingertips are hitting the same delicious spot over and over again and your lips are busy with her clit, tongue sweeping harsh and deliberate licks on it in time with your fingers. An unfamiliar feeling fills her lower stomach, a warmth that travels down her legs and up her torso. It’s like a rubber band growing more and more taut, seconds away from snapping. And with one particular hand movement, it breaks.

Mikasa bites her lip so hard it bleeds as she cums more violently than you’ve ever seen before, her whole body shuddering like… well, like it was finally releasing two decades of built up tension. You’re deliberate in your movements, riding out the most intense orgasm you’ve ever seen as you savor the taste of her release and gently remove your fingers.

You look up and almost panic when you see Mikasa limp on the bed before you, but you’re reassured by her quiet, indiscernible murmuring. When you finally realize what had happened, you can’t stop yourself from laughing a little bit.

She passed out.

Oh, you are never gonna let her live this down.

Somehow, Mikasa finds herself laying in her bed with you laid out right beside her. She frowns; both of you are still as naked as the day you were born, but you had the courtesy to throw one of Mikasa’s homemade quilts over your bodies to conserve a bit of her remaining dignity.

“Wait… What just-”

“Think you might’ve blacked out for a second,” you giggle. Mikasa gapes at you and you can’t help but laugh harder. Your amusement seems to bring her back to the present though and she slaps your arm with a scoff.

“Shut up.”

“Oh, so now you wanna act all tough, huh?” you tease, nudging her with your elbow.

“Fuck off, I don’t have to tell you that was great.” she says. You smile at her, hand reaching over to push some of her hair out of her face. Your grin only grows when she lets her head lean into your palm.

“You certainly don’t.”

“You are insufferable.”

“You love me.”

“You’re right, I do.”

Now, that seems to catch you both off guard. Mikasa flushes bright red and avoids your eyes as you stare at her.

“What?”

“I- yeah, I mean. I thought that much was obvious?” It doesn’t seem to be a question but it comes out like one. Mikasa still won’t meet your gaze.

“Mikasa, if it were as obvious as you think it was I don’t think it would’ve taken nearly this long for anything to happen between us.”

Mikasa’s eyes widen in realization.

“You’re probably right.”

“I know I am. Looks like both of us are just a little hopeless when it comes to some of this stuff.”

You both snort at the vast understatement.

A beat of silence passes before you add. “I love you, too.”

When you turn to look at the girl beside you, you find that she had already been staring at you, looking very deep in thought. Your face burns at the intensity of her stare and you clear your throat. Mikasa’s gaze refocuses instantly and she blushes, knowing she absolutely got caught.

“What, something on my face?”

“No, I guess I just wasn’t expecting…”

“Expecting me to say it back?“

Mikasa nods solemnly. Your heart swells, a cocktail of different emotions swirling around your chest like a hurricane. But somehow, it doesn’t feel overwhelming or bad. It just sits there, stalling.

“I think I only just figured it out for myself, to be honest,” you admit. “‘Cause I never wanted to jeopardize our friendship over a crush. But I guess it’s more than that. And I think it’s always been more than that… I’ve just been…”

“Scared?” Mikasa finished.

Now it’s your turn to nod. “I don’t regret it though. Any of this,” you say firmly. “In fact, I think this may be one of the best things that has ever happened to me.”

Mikasa smiles, a beautiful, real grin that lights up her equally stunning face.

“We can definitely agree on that.”

Silence again. Relieved, comfortable silence. It’s rather comforting.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” Mikasa sighs, meeting your stare again. You blush, opening your mouth to respond before she continues, “And… I was thinking…”

“By all means, keep doing that. If this is anything like the last time I’m sure I’ll like whatever you’re coming up with,” you joke, playing with the hand that wasn’t currently pillowing Mikasa’s face. Her skin is pretty tough, calloused and strong from years of lifting and working out. But somehow her hands still seemed delicate, almost doll-like. You couldn’t help but be fascinated by them, interlacing your fingers together in wonder.

Mikasa’s heart stutters at the tender gesture but she’s not deterred by it anymore. “I’d really like to return the favor, if you’re up for it.”

Almost immediately your movements stop. You think your heart stopped as well, for a moment or two. When you finally stop short-circuiting and turn your face to stare at Mikasa in shock, you sputter, “W-wait, return the favor? Like, right now?”

She laughs. “I’m getting deja vu,” Mikasa muses to herself. She sits up, leaning over you and caging your body in her arms. “It’s only fair, dontcha think?”

You feel your whole body burn, desire pushing its way through to the front of your awareness. “I mean… I’m not gonna stop you, but are you sure you want to?” Mikasa chooses that moment to dip her head and nuzzle your cheek, nosing her way to your neck to press soft kisses down your throat.

“I’m sure,” you gasp when you feel her teeth nip the sensitive skin around your collarbone and her lips suck a hickey on to it. “I’m a fast learner but I always pick things up better when I try them hands-on.”

A curious tweak of your nipples makes you moan, back arching into Mikasa’s playful touches. “Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?” you ask breathlessly, watching the ebony-haired woman play with your tits with a fascinated looked on her face.

Mikasa lets out a low, dare-you-say sexy chuckle that makes you want to press your legs together. “Still here, love, don’t worry.” Her right hand slides up from your chest to your jaw, pulling you into a deep, sensual kiss. The action has her thigh bump into your cunt, the tiny bit of contact against your aching clit making you gasp and moan into her mouth. You feel her grin into your mouth before trailing hot kisses along your jaw, her left hand going to cup your pussy. Your hips push into her palm on their own accord, chasing the feeling of her touch on your most sensitive spots. Mikasa leans into you, lips brushing against your ear. “I want you to tell me how you like it, okay?”

Your eyes widen at her words, feeling more turned on than you had ever felt in your entire life. Nodding, you arch your body into your best friend’s. “Please, Mik,” you whimper.

Wordlessly, the ebony-haired beauty begins trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses down the column of your neck to your chest, sucking little marks as she went. When she finally reached your tits, she glances up at you with a devious little gleam in her eyes before sucking a hard nipple into her mouth. You gasp, hand reaching up to card your fingers through Mikasa’s hair as the woman toys with your breast. Her tongue traces slow, deft circles around it before lightly sucking, her right hand going to play with your other breast.

You twitch in surprise as you feel Mikasa’s left hand beginning to wander, deft fingers curiously gathering your wetness and spreading it around your folds. The action is welcomed, though, as you find yourself utterly melting into her embrace. She giggles against your warm skin and you gasp at the vibrations it creates against your nipple.

“You’re so cute,” she coos, pulling away from your chest to look at you affectionately. She moves on to lavish your other breast with the same thoroughness as the first one and you keen, fingers tightening around her dark strands. You knew you shouldn’t ever underestimate Mikasa, no matter what, but you still found yourself floored at the total 180 she took from being a blushing, scared virgin to this self-assured, dare-you-say erotic woman in front of you in a mere hour. Your best friend was smart beyond words, and her ability to pick up new skills and execute them flawlessly the first time will never cease to amaze you.

Your train of thought is abruptly cut off when Mikasa begins pressing increasingly fast, sloppy kisses from your chest, down your stomach and finally to your inner thighs. A surprise nip to the sensitive skin there causes you to yelp and then giggle, equally aroused and endeared by this new side to the beautiful girl laid out in front of you.

Mikasa was having the time of her life teasing you. She basked in your little sounds, the little gasps and whimpers that escaped you as she marked up your pretty thighs music to her ears. And when she snuck a peak up at your face, watching how your brows furrowed and chest heaved in anticipation, she could feel her stomach clench with the need to please you the way you were able to please her.

As she brought her gaze back down to your center, Mikasa had to bite back a groan. Your pussy was practically begging to be touched with the way it was leaking, the wetness soaking even the delicate skin surrounding your swollen folds. She almost felt bad that you had gotten so close to a release only to stop and help her, but she was determined to fix that for you.

A gasp tore out of your throat when Mikasa finally placed a soft kiss to your clit. After your own attempts to get off and then experiencing something as sexy as watching your best friend come undone for the first time, to say that you were desperate was a bit of an understatement. You spread your legs wider in encouragement, resisting the urge to grab her by the hair and push her closer to you.

When Mikasa’s tongue darted out and took it’s first little lick to your clit, you had to slap your hand over your mouth to stifle the moan that threatened to escape. Mikasa, meanwhile, groaned at your taste and latched her lips around the nub. Her hands gently kneaded at your thighs, keeping you spread for her.

It would be safe to say that you were losing your mind, at least a bit. If you hadn’t known any better, you would’ve thought that the beautiful girl lapping at your folds was a literal pro at eating pussy, her tongue and lips bold in their movements and somehow managing to bring you right to the edge in less that a minute.

“Shit, Mik, you’re a fucking natural,” you sighed, breath hitching when the raven-haired beauty let the tip of her tongue prod at your entrance. She looked up at you through dark, full eyelashes, already dark eyes nearly black with desire.

“I had a good teacher,” she breathed out, a devious smirk playing on her glistening lips as she dove back in with somehow even more enthusiasm than she had originally.

This time, you couldn’t stop yourself from grabbing the top of Mikasa’s head when she wiggled her tongue into your leaking hole, experimenting with different movements and speeds to see what you reacted to.

Truthfully?

You didn’t care what she did. It all felt amazing. The pleasure coursing through your veins was white-hot and suffocating, leaving your brain blissfully empty, aside from the lingering thought of your talented and gorgeous best friend.

She was working magic on you. It was fucking insane to you that she was working you up this well and it was the first time she had ever done it. Though, you supposed it shouldn’t have been too shocking; Mikasa was naturally gifted in basically everything she did. Eating pussy was no exception.

Her lips and tongue were exceptionally soft yet firm, tracing unrecognizable shapes and patterns on and around your clit, alternating between playing with the sensitive bud and sucking at your entrance.

It was like she was everywhere, and in an essence, she was. Her mouth was occupied, but her hands were adventurous and worshipping, running up and down your legs and torso with something akin to reverence. You couldn’t take your eyes off of hers, not that you wanted to to begin with. The adoration and love in her eyes filled you with indescribable warmth, which when paired with some of the most intense pleasure you’ve ever felt in your life, catapulted you to the best orgasm you’ve ever had in minutes.

You came with a cry, thighs threatening to trap Mikasa’s head between them as your body shook from the intensity of it all. She worked you through it, keeping your legs wide open and eagerly lapping up everything that you gave her.

When you finally came down from your high, you felt your arms go limp, hand leaving Mikasa’s head and dropping to your stomach as you tried to catch your breath. Mikasa sat up, licking her lips before wiping the excess away with the back of her hand. She gazed down at you lovingly and crawled over you, capturing your lips in a soft kiss.

“Good?” she whispered questioningly as she pulled away, resting her forehead on yours.

You laughed in disbelief. “Good? Mik, that was the best orgasm I’ve ever had. If that was your first time, I’m almost scared to see what you’ll be like with practice.”

Mikasa laughed, loud and boisterous, hiding her face in the crook of your neck. You smiled to yourself, wrapping her lithe body in your arms and pulling her in closer.

“Well, only one way to find out,” she murmured in your ear, nipping at your earlobe.

“I’ve unleashed a monster,” you breathed out in mock-horror.

Both of you erupted in giggles, holding on to one another tightly.

“Thank you,” Mikasa said, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“I feel like I should be thanking you, love,” you responded, brushing her bangs out of her face. She smiled softly, kissing your palm.

“I think we both got pretty lucky.”

a/n: long time no see, lovelies! hope you enjoyed this :,,) i’ve been working on it for a long, LONG time because my writer’s block has been awful. i’m praying that it was worth the wait. if there are any mistakes or errors, just comment and i’ll try to fix them! <3

mikasa masterlist

aot masterlist

#bsstories #aot #aot fanfiction #aot smut #mikasa #mikasa ackerman smut #mikasa ackerman #mikasa x reader #smut #fluff #snk #shingeki no kyojin

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cecedownbad · 6 months

Text

Hold On

Summary: A missing child's case resurfaced so many memories you wished to keep buried. Sure enough, seeking comfort from the heavy feelings came by as a form of a person. [Spencer Reid X Fem!Reader] Part 2.

Warning: Child abduction, death of a child, angst, no Y/N, made up last name: Cyrus, made up case, light fluff, hurt/ comfort, not too romance-y but alluding to it, not proof read, I don't think the mystery/crime aspect is good but let me hear thoughts guys. Something extra in tags, read after the story.

Word Count: 4.1k

Part 1

I'm so sorry this took so long, my exams, mental health, projects, assignments allll just rolled in the past months, and I've been doing everything to stay on top of writing. It's rushed towards the end but with all that's going on I hope it's okay. If anyone is up for part 3, I'm all for it .

Enjoy

"Those who cannot remember the past, are condemned to repeat it."

-George Santayana

'Okay, let's see, Conrad Miller, 16 years old, went missing on June 12th, 2007. Last seen by the local church with one of the volunteers, she was questioned once but was never linked as she had a solid alibi, her name was Grace Cyrus.' Tara paused. 'So she took Conrad, no she definitely didn't just take him, poor kid is definitely not okay.'

'Right now Stephen is our priority, the anniversary of Steven's disappearance is in 4 days, so what does she want with him now?' You pace in the room, spinning a pen you grabbed in your hand. 'I think that's something only you can answer, what happened 4 days prior to Steven's disappearance?' Tara pondered, she sat down, looking at you, intent on finding answers. '4 days prior…that was the day my dad— Daniel had come to visit, they, Grace and him got into a fight and Stevie, Steven tried to "protect" Daniel in his own way, he thought Mom was going to hurt him…'

Was it then that this all weighed down on you? Words long lost had started pouring through the cracks of memories locked away. You were never in that station in that moment, no, now you were back there.

'Stevie, get back here! We can't stop them!'

'No! No let go! I don't want Dad to go, Mom's going to send him away!'

'Steven!'

No matter how hard you tried, he slipped from your tensed grasp, landing right between two enraged adults.

Pacing the floor helped gather your thoughts, a little better.

'What was the very last thing she said to you when you left?'

The thought of how it all ended passed through your minds, each time much like a bullet to the brain but you push it all down, now wasn't the right time for you. 'everything okay there?' Tara asked you, it's only been a few minutes since you and Tara confronted the idea that Grace might have done more than anyone could have put together.

'Yeah just a lot going on in my head, I think I need a breather.'

'Hold that thought, JJ and Luke are back with Daniel,'

Your hand now wrapped around the empty coffee mug, a dad you haven't spoken to for the last two decades, what would you have to say? or better yet, what would he say to you? This isn't an official reunion, it's an interrogation and who knows what will spill out of your mouth if you see the very first man in your life that disappointed you, taught you that having a person in your life was enough to make you fall apart.

'JJ and I will go in first, you sit tight.' Tara patted your shoulder giving it a good squeeze before heading out the conference room.

It was soon after that Rossi, Reid and Emily came back in, all three harnessing disappointment with their stride. 'Hey, what happened?'

'Well, Rosa was not in her home, we searched the house and by the looks of it, she hardly came back there.' Emily sat down with her legs crossed. 'but, her room had keepsakes, maybe from the time you lived with her?'

'What did she have?'

'She had pictures, some old folded drawings, and the weirdest one, an old juice box.' as Emily finished, you sat up from your chair, 'an old juice box? Do you remember what flavour?'

'I think it was Apple? Why? Does it have something to do with Steven?'

'…'

'Cyrus?'

'That, uh, it's nothing, I think sentimental feelings do surface no matter what kind of person you are.' You began fidgeting with your sleeves, your mind now slowly began recalling events that transpired long ago. 'Is there something else? It looks like you aren't sure about something.' Rossi eyed your movements, he knew something was keeping you. 'My mother, she'd never show any sign that she felt remorse, not even as far as I could remember.'

'Okay Reid, stay with her, I'm going to check in with JJ and the rest. Rossi? Do you mind?' soon after, Rossi and Emily exited the room, leaving you and Spencer in the conference room. 'Could you tell me what kind of person your mother is?' Spencer sat down right before you, urging you to take a seat right next to him and you did.

'She was an uptight woman, she loved to be in control of her life that meant being in control of mine too, it's why I left. She loved being seen.'

'Being seen? What do you mean?'

'She was always a respected figure no matter where she went, be it at work or in the neighborhood, she pushed for that at home too. When Steven had disappeared, I would always remember how she would tell me he was in a better place, and that if I do anything to disobey her or question her authority, I would be punished.' your head hung as you remembered more, 'I would study, day and night, that was the only life I knew, if my grades dropped by a mark, she'd lock me in my room, made sure I only had books on my desk.'

'Did Daniel ever drop by after what happened to Steven?' Spencer asked gently, 'No, I never saw him after that, I thought he finally got sick of mom and left, but I see now that wasn't the case.'

'Okay—'

'You know the one thing I can't seem to remember though?' you looked up at Spencer, his eyebrows now furrowed in question. 'My mother would always say how beautiful I am, and…and that I look just like her, her very own reflection but, Spencer, I can't…I can't remember her face.' your voice sounded shattered at what came out of it. You felt the tears fall, but you couldn't turn away or hide them, Spencer saw just how much this hurts you.

'You are your own person, no one can ever take that from you, no matter what, you are you.' He held your hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of your palm, that gave you a sign of comfort and you smiled at him. 'Alright, let's get back to the case.' quickly wiping away your tears and pasting on a smile, which you flash at Spencer, he in turn regained a more unmoving figure. 'When you said Rosa knew that Steven would never come back, what did you mean?'

'I was only a kid but to me it felt like she already knew that Steven had maybe...and all I could remember was a frown anytime I even remotely related to Steven.' You return with an answer. It was then the phone on the table went off.

'What is it Garcia?'

'So I dug into Daniel a bit more, and you aren't going to like this, so he was actually never in Bakersfield until a week ago, before that he was working as a cab driver in Nevada. He was in Nevada for a long time, but he touched base sometime in 2007, in the month of June. Looks like he tried several times to contact his ex wife but she never entertained any of it. What is concerning is that he was reported of stalking a young boy, said he mistook the boy for a boy he knew and he meant no harm but he was fired from his workplace and when was that? A little before coming over to Bakersfield.' Once Garcia had informed both of you, it was then JJ, Emily and Luke walked back in.

'What did the boy look like?' Spencer asked, 'I sent his picture to your phone.'

'Thank you Garcia.' You picked up your cell and scrolled through to find the image.

'No problemo.'

Upon quick inspection, you could tell at a glance the young boy and Steven shared a few similarities, nothing too obvious except hair colour and facial structure, age is the more obvious factor.

JJ walked in, arms crossed, she sighed but began asking what Garcia checked in for, 'Looks like Daniel was fired from his work place prior to coming to Bakersfield a week before Stephen's abduction.' You informed the three.

'If I didn't know any better, I'd say that's a trigger for him.' Emily began, 'Yeah, I agree.' and Luke followed suit.

'So he not only gets rejected by his ex-wife, but fired from his work place for stalking a boy that looks like his son, then he goes and kidnaps a boy that Rosa seemingly dotes on? Something doesn't add up.' JJ looked on with confusion. 'How did it go with him?' you asked finally.

'Said he had something vital for the case but he would only discuss it with you.' Emily sat down, her voice already etching with exhaustion. 'He's hiding something and my gut is saying it can't be good.'

'I'll go talk to him.' You were close to leaving the room, but Emily had halted your motions.

'Wait,'

'Yeah?'

'Reid will go with you, Tara might want to step out.' You gave a quick nod to Emily's order.

Every step to the interrogation room, you could hear the pained voices of yours, more precisely, from when you were a child. A young girl, alone in a room with nothing but her thoughts, you swallowed hard as you stood by the entrance of the viewing room. When you entered, you let Spencer call Tara from the interrogation room to the viewing room. 'No matter what, don't give in to his requests, you need to break him down, and if you ever want to leave, you can.' Tara gave you a small nudge and she stayed back in the room.

This was it, you let Spencer lead you into the interrogation room, allowing him to get there before you creeped on behind.

'How many times do I need to tell you people? Can't you bring my daug—you, your—'

'Let me be very clear, you have something vital for this case and I'm willing to hear you out, but say or do anything and you will be escorted out of the door by agents, understood?' the firm voice you let out hid every sorry cry that was wailing in you, having not seen your father for 20 years was a shock but not something that should be seen. 'Look at you, what it's been 15, 20 years, oh my beautiful little angel, I missed you.' honey coated words slipped from his mouth and every cell in you twisted in anger and contempt, 'Mr. Carter, the case.' Spencer stepped in this time.

'Always in such a hurry, well, since you brought my little girl. I know where the kid is being held.' He sat there with no remorse, no care that a child, close to the age of the son he lost years ago, was missing.

'Where might that be?'

'I can take you there, but I'll only go if she goes with me.'

After so long, he cares or at least that's what he's showing but you knew what he was playing at, he thought he could get away light just because his flesh and blood was in the justice system, what a sorry bastard.

'I think we're done here.' Spencer had got up from his chair but you stayed seated, deal or not you wanted to break the man in front of you and that was what was nailing you down to your chair. 'Mr. Carter, what good will it do if I went with you? Was it not enough that you came in here demanding to see your daughter about a case I know damn well you don't care about?' you pressed, choice of words were clearly targeted but your composure remained cool. 'What do you mean, you know what happened to Stevi—'

'Your son that you never bothered to report missing? I don't believe you have a right to bring that up, Sir.'

'Now listen here—'

'In the time Rosa had left you behind, you did nothing but fail to bring yourself together, I have a question for you, what were you doing on June 12th, 2007? Why did you come back to Bakersfield prior to that date?' you swiped through the tablet that Tara handed to you, it contained everything Garcia had found including some case files. 'I don't know why you're asking me that, don't you have the life of a boy to save?' He avoided it with such harshness, you only wanted to pry further but somehow it felt like you knew the answer, but the words never fell into place.

'Answer the question Daniel.' Spencer sat back down now jabbing at him as well. 'I just had someone to meet, is that really so important?'

'Why did you need to meet them? Did you coming back here have anything to do with Rosa Cyrus, your ex-wife?' Your slowly tapped at the desk, it was a timed beat. 'I did visit her once but that—'

'Were you aware that a teenager was reported missing around the same time you arrived here? His name was Conrad Miller, he was 16 years old.'

'W-what? I-I don't know anything about that.'

'Really? Because it says in the case files that Rosa was the last person to have seen Conrad, but you knew that didn't you?' He flinched at the response, at this point he wore a sign that screamed suspicious.

It was then that Daniel remained silent, you believed that any word that came out of him at that point would dig his grave deeper.

You stepped out of the room and walked into the room behind the mirror. 'Now he won't speak,' Rossi now stood there with his arms in his pocket.

'We need to find Rosa and Stephen soon, the man is hiding something and Rosa is the key to finding out why.' Rossi took the words right out of your mouth, looks you both knew what he was playing at.

'I think I can help with that, how much can you guys bet on a gut feeling?' You asked the three of them, weary of their answer, 'At this point? I'll take it.' Rossi let out, the two soon followed. 'Rosa will most likely be at the house we used to live in, which is not in this area, I'm hoping that she's keeping Stephen safe,'

'Safe? How come?' Tara asked you, 'Daniel here, came a week prior to Stephen's abduction, not only did he lose his job before coming here, he needed to have a reason to come here,' you deduce.

'His reason being Rosa? But wouldn't that not trigger Rosa?' Looks like you still needed to elaborate your theory, so you continued. 'It did, Rosa having heard that Daniel came here must have caused her protective instinct to kick in, call me crazy, but I think Rosa is keeping Stephen away from Daniel.' you finally let out a sigh, your palms clammed from sweat but if you were right, the little boy you came here for was safe.

'A mother's protective instinct, I'm guessing that something happened 20 years ago that she didn't agree on, which caused her to completely reject this guy, I'll have Garcia send the address of her prior location.' Rossi curtly exited the room, Tara followed along.

Spencer stood before you in silence, you didn't register any movement from him because all your focus was on the man, sitting on the other side of that glass.

'You can go on ahead, Reid, I need to talk to him.'

'But I can't let you go in alone...'

You huffed, your eyes did what it could but meet his but looking away won't make what you want go away, 'Given the chance, I might punch the daylights out of him—'

'More of a reason for me to stay.'

Spencer interrupted, you returned with a sharp look in your eyes before you relaxed, 'Let me finish, I would want to give him a piece of my mind but I need to know, I just, he's the only one that has got to know something about Steven, maybe I can finally put him to rest.'

It was selfish, that's what you called it, asking for just one more clue when you couldn't do anything before. Maybe now that helpless little girl all those years ago, can see her brother off. 'I need to do this, alone...'

'...'

You stood there, waiting for something, a sound from him in response, anything at all. 'I'll wait here, being short of another agent will not slow down the rest of the team.' He'd finished but his response ticked you, it poked at the idea of a child being monitored by their parents.

'I don't need you watching my every move, Reid.'

'I'm just following orders.'

'Following orders? Do I look like a child to you? Do I need a leash around my neck too? I can handle him, he's one man!' Your voice raised, and you stared up at your fellow colleague with a ray of contempt.

'A man you can't stand being around for long, you sounded just fine in there earlier to anyone that watched, but do you want to know what I saw? I saw that you were holding back, hard enough your hands curled at his answers, your feet apart was enough for me to know that you would have given Emily a reason for you to be dismissed from the case.' He'd stated what was right, but it wasn't right to you, not right now, you don't know when it would be. 'I'll wait here, you can go in alone.'

Your feet put you in place for a good moment, his words tore right through you. He was right, somewhere in your clouded judgement, you understood he was right, but just because you understood doesn't mean you accepted it.

With a second left to pass, you turned from Spencer. All in silence, it was accepted that you had a job to uphold, no matter the personal toll.

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

The dial ups in the station, voices of police officers, movement all around you had become void. Nothing, that's what you heard when you left the interrogation room, you couldn't even hear one Agent calling out to you when you had left. Something gathered, something rotten had formed in your stomach. Your body felt hot, your head on a swivel.

You felt the acid burn at your throat, the half conscious part of you managed to drag your feet to a bathroom stall for you to expel the choux pastry you ingested.

Standing before the mirror now, you washed your mouth, feeling the remnants of the expelled food at your throat.

Nothing felt right to you, not right then, not right now. Having no mind to lose any more time, Reid waited in the conference room as you begrudgingly walked yourself back into it. You said nothing.

You dialed in Emily immediately, hoping she hadn't reached the house yet. 'What have you got for me Cyrus?'

'I spoke to Daniel.'

'What did he say?'

'He'd been sending frequent messages and calling my mother, they met once, 2007. There was an argument and Conrad had gotten in-between the two of them, it didn't end well.' you informed her, almost mechanically.

'What did he say about Steven?' JJ chimed in.

'Steven was, he said he was never meant to be hurt and Rosa in the mess of things, covered up for him. He told me where...I know where his body is.' Your voice strained, as it got to harsher details.

Nothing came out though, you tried filling in the rest of the details but your voice was overtaken. A pleading look carried over to Spencer and he took over. 'He said that you have to ask where he's sleeping, Rosa's delusion right at this moment is that Steven would come back.'

'Okay, we'll get back to you as soon as we're done here.' The line cut. If you'd carried a boulder on your shoulders, the weight of it might be the same as your conscience. All that was left was you see a family reunited and you get the closure you've been searching for.

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

The team was back, so was the little boy, he was safe. The Turner family could now go home with their son safe and sound in their grasp.

'Nothing beats seeing that.' you stood, satisfied in a way, the others agreed in unison to your words.

'Cyrus, I need to have a word with you.' Emily called you to a secluded corner of the station, but you had no fear built in you, in fact you felt rather empty, exhausted enough to be emotionally drained. 'We found Steven...' she said quietly.

'Where was he?' you met her in the eyes, having nothing left to tie you down. 'Remains were found in the wall of a small bedroom, it looked like he was initially buried but moved there later.' Every word had struck you, the smaller bedroom was your shared one, no doubt. 'Was he, uh, covered?' a crack sounded in your voice.

It took Emily a moment before answering, 'He was...'

The last bit of remorse. You'd promised yourself for 20 years that he was found. Part of you wanted him to be alive, maybe he ran off and just found a better life or he was on the streets, alive at least. But you knew how far-fetched that sounded, hope was the one thing you were aware that could end you. '...Thank you, can I, um, I want to be alone.'

'Of course, take all the time you need, listen, once this is over I need to speak with you, but only when you're ready, okay?' She patted the side of your shoulders, adhering to your request, she left you alone.

You let out a wavered breath, trying to breathe in and out to calm yourself. What you needed now was to mourn, you knew that but having a hard cry at this moment would slow down everyone.

Not long after, Rosa and Daniel had gotten arrested. You couldn't catch a glimpse at her face, or more accurately, you refused to see the face you'd forgotten. That didn't bother you that much, as a mother she never cared to look out for you, there wasn't any good reason to remain adherent to the details.

Bakersfield PD would have no more reason to have you stay, for now at least but before you could leave it all behind, Steven deserved a proper burial.

The Funeral was small, no relatives, just few friends from school and the BAU were attending, with Chief Marks as well to pay respects.

You stood over the coffin, looking at how small it was, how it all came to an end, all in silence. Quietly you watched as the coffin was buried, soil tossed over it but before it was over, you had to have one last goodbye.

'I did what I promised, took you long enough to come back from playing, huh? You must be tired, rest well, Stevie.' The Carnation held in your hand had been placed on the coffin, a mark of innocence now put to rest. Once it was all over, you stood, not waiting or expecting anything but just, letting the weight gradually let go of you. This was what you needed yet, it didn't feel enough, something remained in you.

Footsteps were heard behind you, and you took a peak at the intruder before lifting the corners of your mouth to him. 'He was a handful you know, always wanted my attention no matter what, saying that one day he'd make it to the moon just so he could get me some space rock.' Spencer said nothing to your bouts of reminiscence, 'He told me once, "I'm going to be no.1, so watch me!" I thought he was being silly, Dad left right after and we were alone, it was us against the world.' It all came back, then you knew what you hadn't let go, knew what it was that made you feel utterly at loss.

'Hey, Spencer, you don't have to do this, but, um, I...' You wanted to ask just for a bit, that little comfort that you so desperately pushed away.

Without another word, he lightly turned to face you. Your mind was too caught up on other memories that when you felt his arms wrap around you, you didn't think for that second. All it took was this to let it all go, no longer in silence but in wailing agony.

He didn't need another word, he simply knew. It was like some crazed superpower of his but it's like he's always known.

He couldn't let go.

Tagging:

@treehouse-mouse

#once again Im so sorry about the late update on the fic #the ending was a bit rushed I'm sorry about that but i hope it's okay #i actually wanted to add Matt to this but because of time constraints I couldn't so #here's a little of what happened afterwards for anyone reading tags #matt was away because his wife was expecting but he dropped by after the case #he got worried about you but you were more happy about him and his family #emily asked if you wanted to continue in the bau you said yes but she said you should take time off so you did #you and spencer have this insane slow burn office romance going on after #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #cm x you #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #self insert #kinda #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #penelope garcia #luke alvez #david rossi #jj

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