#you make one mistake and years later he’s still bringing it up
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high for this ~ oscar piastri
Notes:
i am officially finished with holidays and back to school :/ so im going to be posting a lot less but i do have a few works just rotting in my drafts so i'll probably just be changing the names of characters and posting them.
(not proof read so i apologise if there's any mistakes)
warnings: smut, weed, drug use, mdni
Oscar mindlessly lays sprawled out on his bed, his muscles aching from the gym earlier in the day. He tenderly rubs his hamstring, trying to nurse it back to not being too sore for his match tomorrow.
He has some music playing as quietly as possible, a pulsing tune of some heavy rap. It’s not really to his taste, but he’s bored with his own playlists at the moment. His phone is near the foot of his outstretched left leg, while his right leg is tucked up towards his torso, his knee pointing high towards the ceiling. Both hands are hard at work around his right leg, his fingers pressing into the tough flesh.
He feels a buzz travel through his left foot as his nails dig into his skin. He makes a note to cut them. He hears the buzz too, this time over the sound of the music. He sits up awkwardly, wincing at the strain on his leg. Using his left hand, he picks up his phone and checks the two new messages he’s received.
It’s Talia, unsurprisingly. She should be asleep, though, she promised him she’d start working on fixing her sleep schedule. He clicks the notifications, squinting to see the messages with the medical white lights flashing in his eyes in comparison to the darkened room.
tals🧡: you up?
tals🧡: do u wanna come over
Oscar shifts around in his bed so his back is pressed against a stack of pillows. He brings his hand away from his hamstring, ignoring the dull shoot of pain that runs up his leg once it loses his attention.
They don’t do a lot of sneaking over to each other's houses, simply because they can see enough of one another during school days, so it isn’t anything essential. They get in all the kissing, cuddling, and make outs they want to during the day, so if she’s suggesting this, it means sex.
Not necessarily just sex, anything within the umbrella of sexual activity. Oscar shifts his hips, trying to decide what he wants to do. They live pretty far from each other, meaning for him to sneak over, it's a 25-minute walk each way since he can’t just take the family car. It’s late—nearing midnight—and he’s sore. On the other hand, he’s horny.
And at Talia’s house, she doesn’t live with her parents. She lives with two of her close friends, skipped out on the college experience after her first year. Oscar didn’t get that luxury, much like his older sisters. Both of them lived at home for uni. But while she’s off now in France, he’s still a third year university student. Since her family won’t even be there, they don’t have to worry about being sneaky or quiet.
Oscar: Yeah. See you soon
He unplugs his phone and slips his feet into the pair of slides that are sitting at the foot of his bed. He opens his wardrobe, grazing his fingers over the line up of shirts that rest there. He grabs a graphic white t-shirt, wrestling it on. He cracks open his door, walking past his sister’s and the guest room, both vacant. His parents are on the level upstairs, so they can’t hear any disturbance he’s making.
He settles for catching the bus instead, unwilling to walk up to an hour. He sits down in a row of empty seats, ducking his head down and popping an earbud in. There’s a scarce number of other people on the bus, two girls sitting close together, their heads spinning drunkenly. An old man, greying hair and a newspaper in his callused hands.
tals🧡: come thru window. sammy will bark otherwise.
Oscar replies with the hard thought out reply of a thumbs up before re-pocketing his phone, staring mindlessly out of the window at the dark surroundings that whip by.
Oscar gets off at his stop 10 minutes later, and he’s the last person on the bus by that point. He approaches Talia’s house, not even bothering to go through the front door- Sammy would bark and wake the whole house up. He clicks open the gate, dragging it out only just enough to slip in. He walks across the side of the house, tapping on her bedroom window once he gets to it. He presses a hand to his pocket, making sure the pack of condoms he grabbed are still there.
The curtains swish open and Talia’s standing there, fiddling to get the window open. Once it's open, he feels a rush of cold air hitting him, accompanied by the smell of something almost like diesel. “Hey,” He grins as she leans down.
She narrowly avoids the kiss he’s going for, giving him one on the corner of his mouth. “Sorry- god, it’s dark,” Her shadow rubs her eyes, reaching out a hand to help him in.
Climbing in through the window isn’t a difficult task- just slightly uncomfortable. His crotch rubs against the window pane as he brings his second leg over into her room. Talia wraps her arms around his waist as soon as he’s inside. “Hi, Oscccc,” She looks up at him, her teeth gleaming white.
Just as Oscar is about to reply, the petrol smell hits him even harder. He crinkles his nose, confused as to what it is. “Tals, what the hell have you been smoking in here?,” He laughs, his hands grabbing at her ass to get her to wrap her legs around his waist. His voice is thick with sarcasm, Talia is the furthest thing from a druggy possible.
“Weed,” She rubs her lips into his shoulder, mouthing at the fabric of her shirt. Her mouth is dry, barely wetting the cloth. Oscar’s eyebrows knit, tensing in confusion. “Got a joint, was bored,” She mumbles.
He doesn’t believe what he’s hearing. At the same time, it’s late- his mind is cloudy anyways. He looks past her, at her bed where there’s a metal tin and a joint laying on top of it. Explains the smell then. “Fuck Talia,” He lets out a deep breath, “Maddie and Amber can definitely smell it,” He groans.
Talia laughs, her voice thick and loopy. “Nah, they cleared out tonight so I could do this.” She pulls away from the embrace, tugging him after her by his shirt. She falls back against the bed, her eyes clearly red rimmed from the dim lighting over her bed. “Cmonnn Opie, wanna get stoned with you,”
It’s so strange to see her like this, but he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t hot. It’s so unexpected, such a pleasant surprise from his usually wound up and rule following girlfriend. Oscar’s resistance weakens, the sight of her laying there- a goofy grin plastered across her voice is enough to make the strong man give in.
He hovers over her on the bed, a knee on either side of her hips and a hand on either side of her head. “You’re insane,” His mouth meets red, puffy lips for a kiss. She’s hungry for it, bringing her hands up to his hair to tug him down.
“More,” Talia begs, her voice breathy. Her pupils are huge and there's a spacey look in her eyes. Oscar teases her, shaking his head as he slightly resists kissing her any further than little pecks.
“I want a drag,” He whispers, reaching over her to where the blunt is precariously resting. He places it in between his lips, the bitter taste already seeping into his mouth. “Light it up,” He murmurs around the lump in his mouth.
Her mouth and ears feel as if they’ve been packed with cotton, his voice is far away and just barely a noise. “You don’t know how to,” She giggles weakly, her fingers pinching the fabric of his shirt that hangs down onto her.
Oscar gets off of her, sitting against the head of her bed. His legs are spread, his body slumped down comfortably. “Teach me,” He pats the space in front of his lap, his eyes looking up through his lashes. Talia’s mind is foggy with weed, lust, and need. She’s willing to do anything.
“Take this,” she pushes a plastic water bottle into one of his hands, already unscrewed and partially drunk. “You’re gonna cough a lot- the water will help with that,” she explains, leaning forward with her hands propped up on his quads, pushing the hem of his shorts higher up.
She reaches over to where the bottle had been and her fingers feel numb as they wrap around the lighter. “You feel good?” She asks as he twists the joint around between his lips. He doesn’t quite know how to answer, it feels like a question for after he’s actually smoked it. He nods regardless, tensing his leg muscles under her hands.
“I’m gonna light it, okay?” Another question from her. Her voice is becoming harder to understand, the true effects of the weed settling into her. It’s bizarre to him, this whole situation. “And you just try to inhale as much as possible,” She waits for a nod of competency from him before continuing. “Don’t let it just rest in your throat- it’ll burn. If you can’t do a lot, just do it in small bits,”
Oscar’s hand snakes behind her, resting on the small of her back. “Ready,” He mumbles awkwardly. She clicks down on the lighter and a flame flickers, wavering just below his nose.
“Don’t stress it,” She can see how his eyebrows are still furrowed and his nails are digging into the fabric of her shirt. It’s almost euphoric at first, then it’s hell. Heat fills his mouth and he’s coughing and wheezing. He did exhale- probably too much.
He feels Talia’s hands all over him, her coldness contrasting against the warmth throbbing through himself. She takes the spliff from his mouth, sucking down on it herself. Oscar watches her hazily, his bottom lip tucked under teeth.
“How long have you been doin’ this?” The words feel as if they’re not coming from him. Jesus, surely he’s not baked already. He feels the heavy weight of the joint being pushed between his lips again, his question seemingly going unanswered.
He takes it, breathing it in again. He doesn’t let it rest in his throat, he focuses on the inhale. He doesn’t cough as much this time, but he still guzzles down what’s left in the bottle.
They spend a few minutes alternating the spliff, blowing air into eachothers faces. The room reeks of weed and it’s boiling hot. He wipes the back of his neck with his hand, a line of sweat gathering there. She twists the hem of his shirt between her index and thumb, pulling it up slightly. She doesn’t need to ask- he takes it off for her.
“I started when I first moved here,” She finally answers his question from earlier, dragging a thumb down his cheek, rubbing the back of his jawline. “I think one of Mads’ friends gave her a bunch because she was moving- couldn’t take ‘em. Us three smoked them one night, it was fun,” She mumbles. It means she’s only been doing it for about 3 years now.
He tilts his head, resting it against a pillow. She presses the pad of her thumb into his bottom lip that he’s unconsciously pouting out- asking for either another drag or a kiss. “Wanted to introduce you,” Her lips turn into a smirk, her eyes half-lidded.
“And why’s that?” He teases, his other hand moving down to her ass. Talia looks to the side behind him, a knowing look on her face. She pulls herself into his lap, effectively straddling him.
“I wanted to get high,” She states plainly, “and when I’m high- I’m horny. Wanted to be like that with you,” Her eyes are bright and her cheeky are rosy. Oscar kisses her cheek, experimenting with how his mouth is getting drier and more uncomfortable. Once he feels some moisture returning, he kisses further along her jaw.
She has the spliff in her mouth which forces him away from her mouth. He focuses on her jaw and neck, suckling near her collarbone. She moans, tugging his hair and effectively his head back up. She places the joint in his mouth again and pulls on the pillow behind him. He tilts his head enough for her to move it out of the way, leaving him laying down almost completely flat.
He watches dazily as she pulls her top off, leaving her in a lacy white bra. He reaches out, his fingers barely feeling her flesh. He knows he’s touching her, she’s making noises to confirm it. “ More , more , fuck ,” She’s begging, her voice so desperate. Oscar wishes he wasn’t so fucking spacey right now so he could see how wanton she was over him.
He tips his head forward, looking past where smoke is burning into his eyes. He’s apparently not just touching her bra, he’s touching her fully exposed breast. He hasn’t realised up until this point that he’s actually hard.
“Can I shotgun you?” She asks, her fingers snaking over his nipples. He whimpers at the touch and his mouth drops open around the blunt. He knows he’s out of it, but he’s consciously thinking enough to know that shotgunning is either claiming the front seat in a car, or piercing a beer can and then drinking it as fast as possible.
He settles with the assumption it must be the second one. He lols his head to the side, searching for where the beer is. “Yeah,” He hums, his hand dropping down over the edge of the bed and his hand swinging with the intention of hitting a can that isn’t actually there.
Talia laughs, tugging on his bicep. “Shotgun- I puff smoke into your mouth,” She explains, her voice all raspy from being so dry. Oscar licks over his teeth, his mouth still painfully dry. His mind feels empty, the only resounding thought is just talia, talia, talia. There are a few other ideas, sex stuff, nothing coming close to being as important as making her happy.
She leans forward, plucking the joint from his mouth. He gets a breath of fresh air and begins to gasp for it- a telltale sign he’s had too much in one go. He hollows his cheeks, cleaning the taste of smoke out of his mouth with spit. It’s a useless attempt as it’s already well stained.
She slides two fingers into his mouth, pressing down on his bottom teeth. She lays down on him, her legs still hooked around his hips and a hand pressing to the headboard above him. Their chests are pressing together, her boobs heavy on him. He stares at them, shamelessly, his cock getting even harder to the point he’s beginning to actually feel it.
“Can you suck my cock?” His voice is strangled and on the verge of incoherency because of her digits pressing into his tongue. She nods, kissing the tip of his nose. Her other hand is still holding onto the spliff, just sliding it against her wettened bottom lip. She finally sucks down on it, her lips twisting around it to keep the smoke in.
His mouth opens out of instinct, his eyes going bright just thinking about her mouth. The second their lips meet and he feels a slow release of smoke into his mouth, he feels like he’s dying. His eyes roll back and he grips a hand to the back of her head, pushing their mouths into each other’s harder.
He’s kissing her like it’s the only thing keeping him alive. It’s disgustingly dirty, a combination of spit, teeth, tongues and far too much moaning. Being stoned apparently just makes him feel everything . His lips are on fire, his throat is on fire, his eyes are on fire, his dick is on fire.
Their mouths pull apart, sticky from the remnants of lip gloss that Talia has on. He peppers her face with a few more kisses, desperate for the stinging burn. They look at each other for a few moments, a complete disconnect from the two of them and the rest of the world.
“You still want it?” She’s semi sitting up now, her elbows resting on where his hips are poking out from his low sitting shorts. His mind goes blank at the question, unsure of what she could possibly asking.
“What?” He lets out a puff of air, his hand mindlessly travelling through her hair. She nudges low down on his abdomen with her nose, making a weird squeaking whine.
“Suck you off,” She looks up at him, the green in her eyes barely just a thin ring around her blown up pupils. Oscar nods, shifting further down the bed. Her fingers hook into his waistband, an invitation. His eyes flicker shut, already wasted off the feeling of her hands tugging his shorts down.
Cold air whacks into the tops of his thighs, the dark fluffs of hair standing up. Oscar doesn’t need to tell her what to do, it seems like every time she’s gotten baked before this has been spent with her preparing for this.
Talia begins aimlessly mouthing at his crotch, licking and kissing over where the head is resting. Her mouth is wetter than his, seemingly soaked with saliva. He takes a drag from the blunt, his fingers retracting and stretching to scratch her head. She purrs at the motion, getting more eager around him.
“Cmon princess,” Oscar murmurs, helping to slide his boxers down to mid thigh. He doesn’t wince or shiver when it meets the cold air as there’s barely any time for it to do so. The second he’s fully undressed, her warm mouth is engulfing his length.
She bobs her head up and down, her lips tightening around his shaft and her cheeks hollowing for him. He’s pushing her head down without realising, the pressure is light but definitely suggestive.
She doesn’t gag, just takes him further. He encourages her with a string of moans mindlessly escaping his mouth, mixed in with ‘ oh god, good girl’ and ‘that's perfect, princess, keep going’. He’ll smoke or eat edibles every weekend if this is how getting head feels like when he does.
Her nose presses into his crotch, her throat muscles working hard to accommodate the intrusion of him. He tries to touch her, help her get off while she’s giving him the blowjob he’s ever received but the way she’s lying with the rest of her body so far away, he settles for focusing the pleasure elsewhere.
He rubs his thumbs over her nipples, feeling them harden under his touch. She whimpers and whines, her moans choking into noises that sound like she’s crying. Her face is reddened and her hair is sweaty, her fringe plastered down to her forehead with sweat.
“Close, I’m close,” He twists some of her hair around his index, his middle finger tapping into the top of her hair. She looks up at him with glassy eyes and tensed eyebrows.
“In me,” She gags around his length. She doesn’t need to ask twice. He fucks his hips up into her mouth, forcing a moan and a gag from the back of her throat as he releases into her.
He feels spent, his body aching worse than it did back at home.
She pulls off slowly, her lips oiled with spit and cum. Her neck muscles flicker with tension as she swallows it down. That’s new. She’s strictly been a ‘spitter’ to this very moment. He wipes a drop of cum off her lip and kisses her deep. He tastes himself in her mouth but there's hardly any recognition for it. He doesn’t care enough to be disgusted about it, nothing about kissing her is disgusting.
“You’re perfect,” He slips his tongue into her mouth, tugging her up to be laying on top of him. “Wanna make you feel good,” He moves his head, kissing down her neck.
Talia lets out a noise of confirmation, “please,” she whines burying her fingers against his scalp. From the awkward angle he’s at, he slips her pants down past her ass, her underwear at the same time.
He rubs a finger over her wet hole, teasing it. She lets out a stifled whimper, burying her face further into Oscar’s chest. He slides the finger in slowly, watching the bits of her face that he can see intently. She’s shying away, forcing her face away from his view.
“You’re all shy now?” He teases, massaging one of her breasts with his palm. She doesn’t reply, just keens on him, desperate for more. He pushes his finger fully in, sliding it in and out. “Look at me, pretty,” He kisses her forehead, nudging the spot with his nose.
She reluctantly looks up before snuggling into his neck. It’s a drastic difference from how she was only minutes earlier. He pushes a second finger in, knowing her all too well that she’s needy for it. She groans, scraping her teeth down along his shoulder.
He groans, throwing his head back. He knows what he’s doing, not needing to even look. He pushes in and out, deeper and just as controlled. Her walls tighten around him, her wetness slicking down over his palm and around his wrist. His thumb joins in, rubbing along her clit.
“Oz,” it comes out all jagged and breathy. “Fuck- need to,” She can’t finish her sentences at this point, pushed so close to the edge. He gives her a whisper of allowance, his breath hot against her ear.
“Come for me,” He instructs her, his thumb applying more pressure as he feels a gush of wetness spill down his occupied hand. She’s gasping, panting for air when it happens. His body is still trying to regain full senses from the weed, barely noticing how deep her nails are digging into his sides, leaving red crescent moons into his skin.
Once she’s come down from her high, Talia rolls onto the space next to him on the bed. They watch each other, laying on their sides as they share the joint. They puff smoke at each other, laughing over absolutely nothing.
“You’re staying tonight?” Whether it's a statement or a question is unsure, just how she intended. Oscar cranes his head to where he can see the sun is peeking out and beginning to set.
“Yeah, I’ll stay right here,” He hums as the two of them both nod off to a hazy, stoned induced sleep.
#formula 1#formula one#f1#f1 x reader#oscar piastri#oscar piastri smut#oscar piastri x original character
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no bc deadass the rescue bots are straight up mean as hell. like, they arent evil or immoral they’re just rude. to the point where they’re meaner than the decepticons ok like megatron kept avoiding actually gettind rid of starscream despite the constant murder attempts but heatwave was willing to get rid of two of the other bots (blades after he abandoned a rescue bc of an avalanche and blurr bc blurr). heatwave is more ruthless than megatron which is so damn funny. blades keeps insulting people for no good reason (sometimes it makes sense but like quickshadow’s accent and how she talks made him so upset). chase is harder to see but he’s willing to do anything to follow the rules and he tends to repeatedly bring up other people’s issues (i dont think i have to explain but like example is little white lies. that whole episode). boulder is very sweet most of the time but the instant heatwave gets in on it he does too. multiple times in the show this has happened (off the top of my head when blades got the scoop claw hw and boulder were laughing at him and when hw made fun of blades boulder laughed, also heatwave was saying blurr was super annoying and boulder agreed).
to be clear this is a good thing. i wanna see more complex characters who are still fundamentally good people!! you can be callous, have low empathy, be egotistical, get angry, make fun of ur friends and still make good choices and still help people. you at your worst and you at your best are still both you, but your worst being bad doesn’t mean your best isn’t good. especially because morality wise the rescue bots are the best people. i mean, they aren’t war criminals (or regular criminals), they don’t physically harm others, they don’t put others at risk (at least not intentionally), and they literally had to pretend to be actual machines while risking their lives every day. these people who treated them as essentially slaves were who they had to protect. and they did it, over and over again, without hesitation. and i think they deserve to be a bit rude for that, and because their meanness comes from caring. if they didn’t care they wouldn’t bother to speak up and be heard, even if it’s in a disrespectful way. but they do.
anyways idk rescue bots brainrot and the concept of a fundamentally good society have been eating away at me.
#they love everybody so much that they snap so often#heatwave cares about his team. when he says someone needs to go its a big deal#because he cares about that member but he also cares about the rest of his team#one wrong move and they’re dead. it’s life or death every day#he doesnt want to invite the day where death will be the winner#blades getting so pissed and confused by quickshadow’s accent and speech was so damn funny tho#i too am confused and pissed by the british#boulder being the nicest kindest most gentle bot immediately going away when heatwave decides to be petty is always delightful#“hmm this person is doing something funny/wrong/objectively dumb but everyone makes mista— oh? heatwave is making fun of them? count me in!#homosexual behaviour#heatwave makes people worse <3#chase bringing up the oldest shit to make a dig at someone is so silly#you make one mistake and years later he’s still bringing it up#looking at my tags as i write them and hw’s are so serious and everyone else’s are like “lmao silly little guy says silly little things”#rescue bots#tfrb#tfrb heatwave#tfrb boulder#tfrb blades#tfrb chase#transformers rescue bots#transformers
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Beekeeping age [Dilf!Konig x fem!Reader]
You're ex-boyfriend is an asshole, so you decided to fuck his hot military dad instead. You're going to find out why his first wife ran as fast as she did, very soon - but Konig is still the best dick that ever happened to you.
CW: Daddy kink(obvi), power imbalance, possessive Konig, perverted Konig, age gap(Reader in her early twenties, Konig in his early forties), mentions of cheating(your ex is a douchebag anyway), slightly obsessive Konig, size kink, unprotected sex.
FIRST PART (can be read separately)
AO3
— Why your wife left you, again?
You stuff your face full of…something. He cooked it – gods did he cook it well. It’s meat and vegetables and spices, and it feels like your dad cooking but twice as good. It feels like pure sin because he says you shouldn’t worry about calorie counts or how fat the meat is, or how good everything tastes fried because he needs his special girl to feel good and healthy and fatten up a little bit, and you…gods, you’re down. Bad.
You wonder if König’s wife left because she couldn’t compete with his cooking. You wonder if his wife left because he was feeding her too good.
— Why don’t we leave uneasy questions for later, Schatzi?
He brushes his hand over your hair, taking in the way you look – dressed up in his shirt, skin covered in bites and bruises from his hold. He can’t see it right now but can almost testify to the way your lipstick was all over his collar – good thing he wasn't wearing his uniform shirt, wouldn’t want to make dorks from Kobra jealous.
He brings you another plate, he fills your glass – you never knew beer could taste this good, but he whispered something about having his own little homemade brewery for wine and beer somewhere in the mountains, in his Summer house. This man has a hug apartment in Vienna and a Summer house – you think you heard him having enough land to go hunting and to keep bees, and you might have cum a little bit just here and there.
— I would like to know the story, actually. To not repeat her mistakes, you know.
— You won’t, Liebling. I can already picture you with a ring on your pretty finger.
— Not so fast. Maybe I don’t believe in marriage.
— You’re too young to stop believing in it.
— Way to talk when you’re the divorced one, sir.
— Shut it, Schatzen. I can still take care of a good girl like you, ja?
König leans in to kiss you, his lips brushing over your mouth – it’s wet and swollen, he bite you quite a few times already, and you feel dizzy just from the way his tongue lingers just a second before going in, taking your arousal even more. His hand gently brushes some hair from your face and you giggle from the sensation of his rough fingers on the softness of your skin. It never failed to mesmerize you, just how seasoned and old the colonel might be – and his hands would still tremble as if he is handling the finest porcelain doll in his hands. He has the expression of an anxious, devoted follower – you are not sure how his wife could left him.
If he was looking at you like this every day, even as you go through with pregnancy and a piece of shit kid like Paul, you would die before leaving him.
— Could you two please stop fucking each other?
— I thought you wanted to move to dorms.
— This is my house too!
— Not on the documents, it’s not.
— You can’t just throw me away, dad!
— Your new stepmom needs her space.
König grasps your shoulder as you try to stop them from arguing again – it’s embarrassing enough that you’re fucking your ex’s dad. Colonel makes it a whole fucking show, parading you around as his controversially young girlfriend, making sure that his son will hear your moans and whimpers as you get fucked at every surface of this apartment. You were wondering if you could ask him to move to the Summer house – even with your college and all. You can take a gap year and write a journalist investigation about lonely veterans and their mastery at brewing alcohol. You can take a gap year and try your best in the new trophy wife gig.
König’s hand is firm on your shoulder – you know better than to try and argue with him, the silent recognition of authority loud in your head. You sigh, trying your best to just stop yourself from acting too damn weird. It’s their male thing, and you’re just an intruder in a big T-shirt and old leggings. König said it wasn’t his wifey’s – that he burned all of her stuff when she left. Somehow, you find peace in that statement.
— How could you even…Jesus fucking Christ, this is disgusting. She is my age!
— And the most beautiful girl in the world. I can see why you liked her.
— She is my girlfriend!
— Schatzi came to me in distress and begged me to take her. I think we both knew you weren’t…the best option.
You feel more embarrassed with each second of their conversation. You don’t want to listen, you don’t want to take in their words, you feel like a trophy being discarded between two different winners. You feel like a prized mare on a farm – and they won’t even look at you. Too distracted by the sound of their voices, you eat your dinner in somewhat somber peace because you need to eat, after all, and you really like what König cooks. You like what König does most of the time. All of the time.
Paul storms off the room after a few minutes of bickering. You feel guilty for not stopping him because he was still kinda your boyfriend. You ex-boyfriend. Your asshole incel-ish ex-boyfriend whose assholless literally made you go and sleep with his dilfy dad, and…god, you feel like a whore. Good. Paul was calling you a whore a lot of the time, you may as well take the new name and plaster it in your new badge.
König’s hand lingers on your back, caressing it gently. You whimper because you feel bad and you’re still in college, and Paul’s disgusted reaction reminds you that fucking a guy in his forties isn’t the best business decision. Even if the said guy is a retired colonel with shitload of money, even if he still goes to work sometimes, just because he wants to feel cool and shoot guns at bad guys, even if this guy buys you cool gifts and he promised to renovate your car or buy you a new one, and he makes plans and takes you to places that don’t make you feel like begging for attention.
If anything, you feel like he is drowning you with attention.
His hand lets go of your shoulder – he was holding you so tight the whole conversation, you can sense the bruises forming on your skin. You lick your lips, and he moves to kiss you again. You feel like drowning, you feel like this is all just a dream – and you’re also drunk because gods, König knows how to make a good glass of…something.
— You shouldn’t act like this. He is your son.
He laughs dismissingly. He dismisses a lot of things you said – you think it’s the age difference. You think he is just being traditional, and you don’t want to be too nagging. You don’t want to end up like his wife and wake up from the dear you’ve been seeing.
König’s lips are soft, and you can look past his hands, taking you too possessively – you can close your eyes, and you can just listen to his accent, smiling as his tongue worms its way into your mouth. He is good, you think – at this whole kissing thing. At this whole “Hi there, I’m a retired old dog and I am fucking the girlfriend of my only son. I’m divorced btw” .
He has experience – you know it when he tucks your lip between his teeth, when he massages your shoulders as you spread your legs already, so wet for him, it’s almost embarrassing. You never slept much with Paul – his poor excuse of a son – it was always never enough lube, it was always never enough attention, he always needed you to shave or to leave your hair to grow a little bit, it was either your perfume being too sweet or you no wearing anything at all. You thought he would have much more fun masturbating to his anime chicks and poor gaming sessions with his friends.
But König isn’t like this – every time he drops on his knees to eat you out like a man starving, you feel utter and complete devotion. In his tongue, in his mouth, in his teeth as he sucks little marks into your thighs, making sure you will remember it tomorrow when he will ask you to stay for breakfast and then ride you to whatever you need to come next. Last time he promised to drive you to the library, he took a few turns and took you to some restaurant instead. You gushed about not having proper attire, he was still in his half-uniform and rocking dark cargo pants, and he was apologizing every time his fingers hit that special spot in your cunt as he fingered you during the second course of meals. He said that he was so, sorry about not fucking you properly, about having to resort to public displays like this – and you were too high on loving him to care. You still are.
— I don’t think we should be…
— He left. Won’t bother us anymore.
— I’m not in the mood right now.
— You’re always in the mood, Schatzen. Enough to drive me crazy.
— You’re a pervert. Like Paul.
— He takes on after his father, ja?
It would alarm you how much contempt he had for his own child right now. Then, again, you were the one who dumped his son for the powerhouse of a dad. Maybe it was your daddy issues, maybe it was your dumb reasoning and the summer break that you didn’t want to spend with your family. Good thing you’re spending it with the other.
König’s face is buried between your legs, his teeth tugging on the soft fabric, forcing your leggings down. God, it feels good – he is so high on wanting you, can’t even wait to take off your clothes properly. You never had a man wanting you so badly before – it’s addicting, it’s crushing, it makes you feel like a goddess among men. Makes you feel wanted, a thing that your ex never did.
You forget about guilt when he kisses your lower tummy, when his lips trace down to your cunt, taking sharp licks through your panties. You wore them this morning, something from a new lacy set he bought – one of the only ones that weren’t torn off from your body the moment you took them on. He always wanted you to make these little fashion shows for him, making good use of his money – you weren’t a sugar baby, not on paper, you still clutched to the last traces of your dignity, but he did buy you a lot of gifts.
— S’ pretty for me, Liebling. The prettiest girl in the world.
— I assume after…af..ter your wife.
You giggle when he frowns, his rugged face filled with concern. He doesn’t like jokes about his marriage – you don’t want to ask him about it because it would mean waking up from a dream you want to experience over and over again, but you heard what Paul was talking about. What his mom told him about. you heard enough to know that kissing a man like König is a safety hazard and a liability that you can’t afford, but it’s warm, and he is rich, and you don’t want to go back to your part-time job this season. You want to be dumb and you want to be young – right now, you’re doing both.
— Don’t be so dumb, Schatzi. Although it suits you.
— I’m not dumb!
— Nein, you’re not. Just silly.
— You just call me a different type of dumb.
— I like it when you’re dumb. Makes you cuter.
König is awkward and funny, and he buys you things that you could never afford. He is mysterious and kind – to you, not his enemies – and he uses German words randomly in his phrases because he knows the accent, and the pronunciation drives you crazy. You never thought of thinking of yourself as a dilf hunter but, hell, here you are. With his dark ginger stubble – and grey streaks that make you go wild every time you look at him – between your thighs. It’s tickling, and it’s a bit irritating, and he will rub some calming lotion in your skin after this, making sure to cover every inch of your skin with some expensive cream that he knows jackshit about, but you wanted it, and so he went out and bought it. Gosh, you felt dumb even asking him for this.
He traces his kisses along your thighs, tongue lingers to press against your wet, swollen folds. Flirting in front of Paul made you embarrassingly hot, solidifying you as a shitty, bad, horny person who needs fat cock stuffed in your leaking pussy. You lick your lips, and you tremble when he pushes his tongue inside. He is starving, pushy with all of his needs – makes you almost beg for it, like a pet he took from the street.
— I want to take you to the Summer house next week.
You open your eyes, shocked. It’s nothing, really, you shouldn’t be this surprised about him wanting to show off his other properties. You want to check out his wine cellar and how sturdy the furniture is. You want to see if he had deers running around the house. If he had any pictures of his family – and if you could ever hope to compete with his ex-wife. It’s a petty competition, but you don’t have much to do and to think about. It’s obvious the love here won’t last until the end of the break, and you want to get as much from it as possible. Maybe even some hot bikini picks at his pool. He has to have one.
— What if I have plans, sir?
It’s innocent and you play the role well. You think some of your friends wanted to hang out or make a study group for the upcoming semester. You are a good girl at heart, with nice grades and a perfectly played-out future, and not as many working opportunities as you may like, but you could manage with something. Writing a killer essay about your life with a smoke show during Summer would be easy with someone like him.
He laughs, his hand lightly smacks your butt. You bite your lip and whimper, not accustomed to pain feeling this good.
— You will change them, little one. For the whole Summer.
— I wanted to study.
You moan when he lightly presses his tongue on your swollen clit, kissing and licking it. Slick runs down your legs, and he collects it with his mouth. You whimper again, tears prickling at the edge of your eyes – the sensation is sudden and overwhelming, makes you get your hands in his hair and slightly tug. He groans, pleasure from having you so active, so participating is overwhelming. He loves you, loves you, loves you, adores you. God, you’re beautiful. And so, so restrained – just his special good girl. Only for him.
— You can study at our house.
— You mean you and your ex’s house.
He smacks you again for the foul language – although you know you didn’t even curse, he is still punishing you. In the lightest way possible, of course, you know you won’t handle anything too harsh – still, you feel nice and warm when he isn’t just eating you out, but also smacks you for speaking in such unpretty words again.
You don’t even register the way he called the house yours too. All too dumb for this, again.
— I mean our house, Schatzen. Just you and your daddy, ja? You worry too much about studying.
— I want a nice job. Without…distractions.
He slips one finger in your warm, tight hole – even just one digit is enough to make you shiver, clenching it like a sloppy whore. He is big in every way – just two of his fingers are bigger than a normal cock, and no, you didn’t want to compare a son with his father, but even Paul’s cock, as big as it was, was still way thinner than his father’s.
— Why you need a job?
— Not everyone are retired military. I need money.
— You have me.
— I d…don’t want to be a sugar baby. Sir.
— I have no problems with being your daddy, Schatzen.
König is build like a powerhouse – when he slips just the tip into you, ignoring all previous preparation because, by god, you both need to feel connected, he is dragging you on top of the table, tossing aside the dirty dishes with remains of his perfectly cooked dinner…and you feel like home. Almost.
You imagine waking up with his cock every morning, and with the nice cup of coffee only he can make. You imagine him gushing about rebuilding the house and working on his tight and neat desk job at the mercenary company – something about instructing, dumb recruits, only the most elite missions as an operator in retirement, creating strategies and tactics for the warfare – and thinking that, wow, your husband is really cool. You shouldn’t be thinking this because this is just a summer fling. Your relationships with Paul weren’t too serious either, you just didn’t want to be alone.
König gently caresses your fingers, whispering something about numbers – you think you could recognize the word for a ring a bit later when he was making a call to some friend. In German, of course, you don’t quite understand it, but you worm your warm on his lap like a spoiled cat, purring on his crotch like a good fucking girl. But it was a while later.
Now, you’re gasping and panting, his cock spreading you open and stuffing you like the poor bird he was cooking for dinner. You know you won’t be able to walk after a short while – would probably have to spend the day at his house, with him cooing and gushing about your sore body while he is quietly proud of himself. If you’re lucky, you could convince him to let you go in the evening. If you’re not, he will ask you to stay the night, and maybe even a bit more, and then he will just get the bag with your stuff from your room in the dorm by himself, and then…
— What do you think about getting married in August?
Maybe, you do know why his wife left him.
#cod#konig x reader#konig#yandere konig#cod x reader#call of duty#yandere cod#cod x you#fem reader#konig cod#konig x you
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better late than never — kmg
♡ pairing: kim mingyu x afab!reader
♡ theme: smut [18+ mdni], best friends to lovers, non-idol au
♡ wc: 2.7k
♡ warnings: size kink, oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), riding, unprotected piv sex (stay safe y’all), creampie, mingyu is a boob guy, praise kink if u squint
♡ a/n: written for my bestie <3 and posting just in time for his birthday - happy mingyu day!!
knock-knock-knock-knock
“come on! let me in!!”
you approach your front door, but you don’t unlock it yet.
“what happened to the copy of my key i gave you?” you inquire to the voice on the other side.
“i forgot it!”
you turn the deadbolt, opening the door to reveal the man standing outside - the look on his face is sheepish as he stands there, arms full of grocery bags.
“kim mingyu i asked you to get me three things, not the entire store,” you say incredulously.
“i saw your fridge the other day. you literally only had cheese, beer, and a jar of pickles in there,” he retorts, shooting you a judgemental look.
“the three main food groups.”
mingyu rolls his eyes as he enters your apartment. “whatever, i'm cooking you dinner. a real dinner.”
“aye aye captain,” you say as you jokingly salute him.
you met mingyu freshman year of college, when he burst through the door of your dorm room - thinking it was his own (he was on the wrong floor). his eyes turned wide as saucers as he realized his mistake.
“SORRY,” he blurted out before fleeing out of the room. he was gone before you had even processed what happened.
the next day he returned - this time knocking first. you opened the door to see the tall man, holding two packs of ramen.
“sorry about yesterday,” he apologized, still a bit embarrassed. “i'm an idiot and thought i was on the sixth floor.”
“you're not an idiot, mistakes happen. it's okay,” you assured him amiably.
“thanks, i’m glad you’re not mad at me or anything,” he replied with a smile. he extended the ramen to you. “it’s not much but i just… felt like i should bring a gift for some reason?” he told you, looking like he was second guessing himself as the words came out of his mouth.
“ooo it’s the good kind too,” you replied eagerly as you took the ramen from him. “you wanna have one right now?”
he looked surprised, but delighted at your suggestion.
“actually that would be awesome, those were my last two,” he admits with a laugh. you grin back at him.
“well, come on in. again.”
–
and so mingyu inadvertently became your best friend. if not for the dorm incident, you probably never would have even crossed paths with him - he was your typical business bro, while you were majoring in psychology and literature. but, something just clicked between you two.
a handful of years later now, he’s still your closest friend. and here he is, in your kitchen, grabbing the appropriate pots, pans, and utensils to get started on his spaghetti carbonara. as independent of a person as you are, you're not particularly the best chef - so you're grateful for his culinary expertise and willingness to make food for you.
over dinner, mingyu is his usual chatty self. he tells you about his day, about how his neighbor has picked up the irritating hobby of learning to play the trumpet, about the dog he met yesterday while at the park, about his new coworker who seems to like him a little too much.
“well, is she cute?” you ask nonchalantly, swirling the wine in your glass.
“huh?” your question seems to catch him off guard. “i don't know. i mean, i've never thought about it.”
“bullshit,” you tell him, taking a big sip.
“it's true!”
“right. well think about it, is she?”
“she's conventionally attractive i guess. i don't know why it matters though,” he says sincerely.
“well if she likes you and she’s cute, you should ask her out.”
“that would be extremely unprofessional,” he scoffs, appalled at your suggestion. “besides, she's not my type.”
“what, is she weird or something?”
“no. and besides, i like weird. but i definitely don't see her like that.”
“what do you mean, you like weird?” you ask, raising your eyebrow.
“i mean, you’re weird. and i like you.” he says it matter-of-factly, as if he was telling you the grass is green.
“okay well obviously you don't want to date me,” you reply, rolling your eyes. “but come on, you haven't dated anyone in years. i'm trying to help to you here.”
the expression on his face changes, but you can't quite decipher what he’s thinking.
“i don't need help.”
you give him a weird look.
“not like that!” he quickly insists. “i just mean, don't worry about me, i’m fine.”
“ooookay, whatever you say gyu.”
his face remains calm, but you notice the corners of his mouth twitch upward slightly. normally, he’s not a fan of the nickname, but you know you're the only one who's allowed to call him that. he’s told you before.
“well, what about you?” he asks suddenly.
you look at him while chewing a big bite of pasta, confused. “what about me what?”
“are you, like… seeing anybody these days?”
he speaks timidly, as if treading on eggshells.
“why? are you asking me out?”
“ha ha, very funny,” he says sarcastically. he then shrugs. “i was just curious.”
“i actually did go on a date last week,” you admit. he looks up, surprised.
“really? how'd it go?”
“surprisingly, really good,” you tell him.
“that's good. you have a long history of terrible first dates.”
“it was a second date, actually.”
mingyu pauses. “and you didn't tell me about the first one? fake as hell.”
“oh shut the fuck up,” you tease back, grinning at him.
he picks up the bottle of wine sitting on the table. “should we finish this?” he asks.
“duh.”
he removes the cork, pouring you another glass before refilling his own.
after the delicious meal, you begin to clean up the kitchen, but mingyu quickly gets up and takes the dishes from your hands.
“i got it.”
“you did all the cooking, let me do it,” you tell him.
“nope,” he insists, already scrubbing plates.
you help anyway, but mingyu is fast. the kitchen is sparkling within ten minutes.
“damn, this looks better that it did before you got here,” you remark as you start the dishwasher.
“don't go on a third date.”
you freeze. you look back at mingyu - he's reclining against the kitchen counter. his face, sincere.
“what?” you ask hesitantly.
“i said, don't go on a third date.”
he rises, walking toward you. he stops inches away from you, extending his arms, leaning his palms on the counter on either side of you. his face hovers above yours, his warm eyes locked onto yours.
“gyu, are you drunk?” you ask, knowing full well he's not. your heart is suddenly pounding.
“i'm not.” he brings his hand up to your chin, tilting your face upwards. “can i kiss you?”
you’re stunned, standing motionless, breathing deeply as he strokes your jawline softly with his thumb. sure, you’d thought about the possibility of dating mingyu before. more than once, even. and you figured he’d probably thought about dating you before. but truly, you never thought he had serious feelings for you.
but here you are, pinned against your kitchen counter by your best friend. your best friend, who happens to be incredibly attractive. and the way your heart is racing - you really do want to kiss him right now.
you try to think logically, rationalizing whether this is a good decision, but the emotional part of your brain takes control. you kiss him. you kiss him - and he kisses you, and you stand there, in your best friend’s arms, kissing each other, as if you'd both been waiting for this moment for years. and deep down, you know you have been.
mingyu grabs hold of you, pulling you up onto the counter. you wrap your arms around his waist, running your hands slowly up and down his torso, feeling his toned body through his soft shirt. he caresses you gently, kissing you still - you're suspended in time, just the two of you, bodies connected like never before. you suddenly cannot believe you've spent years with this man and never once made out with him - but better late than never.
he softly brings his hands to your sides. your lips finally part - you instantly miss the sensation. he slides his hands under your shirt, pausing right before he reaches your breasts.
“can i touch them?” he asks, his voice breathy. you nod fervously. he caresses your over your bra, kissing you again as he squeezes your tits in his large hands. you inadvertently let out a soft moan. mingyu grabs the hem of your shirt and pulls it off of you. he looks at you in awe.
“you're so perfect.”
he is utterly gushing and swooning over you right now. you feel your heart skip a beat.
you slip your hands under his shirt, running your hands over his abs and chest. he pulls his shirt off too, standing there before you. you've seen mingyu shirtless before, but not like this. his muscles are striking, perfectly sculpted - his golden, sunkissed skin glows beautifully. you feel a sudden, strong carnal urge to lick him, kiss him, bite him all over.
you look up at him - the look in his eyes reciprocating your desire. you hop off the counter, taking his hands in yours. you pull his arms, tugging him in the direction of your room. his cheeks turns flush as he realizes your intent - a roguish grin spreads across his face, revealing his pointy canines you’ve always loved.
mingyu wastes no time taking your pants off as you throw yourself onto the bed, reclining against the soft pillows. he gazes at you lustfully as you lay there in your lingerie, unzipping his pants and pulling them off as fast as humanly possible. you feel throbbing in your core at the sight of him standing there - his light gray underwear doing absolutely nothing to disguise the prominent erection underneath.
he crawls into bed, his body hovering above yours. you wrap your arms around his broad torso, pulling his large frame into yours as you begin to move your hips, grinding against his cock - the wet spot on your panties grows as you rub your cunt against him. it was clear from the moment he took his pants off that he is big, but feeling its length, its thickness, against your clothed pussy is making you clench around nothing - making you wish you were clenching around him instead.
mingyu gently grabs your arms, pinning them next to your head as he interlocks his fingers with yours. his lips lightly graze against yours.
“are you sure you want to do this?” he asks softly. you nod immediately.
“yeah.”
he buries his head into the crook of your neck, kissing you repeatedly. he gradually makes his way down your body, his hands moving to take your bra off, but he pauses.
“can i-”
“you can do whatever you want to me,” you interject.
you feel his cock twitch. “oh god, don't tell me that.”
he unclasps the hook, letting out a moan at the sight of your bare tits. immediately he takes your nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened bud before taking it between his lips. he sucks on your tit like his life depends on it - his hand squeezing and pinching the other as his cock grinds against your core. you're gone already - a moaning mess, putty in his hands. he eventually switches sides, cool air hitting the wetness remaining on your nipple. you get the feeling mingyu could suck your tits forever.
he eventually moves on, planting kisses down your stomach as he situates himself between your legs. he kisses your inner thighs - slowly approaching your core, but not touching you just yet. you whimper as he finally touches his lips to your clit over your thoroughly wet underwear. he licks you slowly, his tongue running over the thin fabric several times before he slips his finger underneath, pulling your underwear aside, exposing your soaked core. he groans at the sight of it.
“fuck, just as pretty as i imagined.”
you part your lips to say something, but your words become lost - instantly replaced with cries of pleasure as he begins eating you out. you run your fingers through his hair, grasping onto it as he sucks repeatedly on your clit. he places a large hand on your belly, applying pressure, as he takes two fingers to your pussy, slipping them in with ease. you moan as he begins to fuck you, your hips beginning to buck.
“more,” you beg.
you cry out as he adds a third finger - your cunt has never felt so full, but you know this is nothing compared to how his cock would feel in you. he continues sucking your clit, heat rising in your lower stomach as you feel yourself nearing orgasm. you writhe in pleasure, screaming mingyu’s name as he makes you cum - and he makes you cum hard.
your head spins as you come down from your powerful high. as you catch your breath mingyu crawls back up, laying against you, his radiant body heat making your skin turn hot. he strokes your cheek, pressing his lips hungrily against yours once more.
“can you… will you ride me?”
your pussy throbs at the mere thought. wordlessly you nod. mingyu reaches down, sliding your panties off before discarding his own underwear. you gasp softly as his cock springs free. you reach down, taking hold of it - its size making your hand appear tiny in comparison. he leans his head back, sighing as you stroke his length, your palm becoming wet with his precum.
you give him a push, rolling over on top of him. his tip grazes your wet cunt as you straddle him, his eyes locked onto yours intensely. you sit up, taking his cock in your hand, rubbing it against your folds a few times, before finally slipping it inside. you slowly lower yourself onto it, whining softly as its thickness stretches you. mingyu groans as you bottom out, sitting entirely on his cock. you haven’t even moved yet, but his breathing is heavy, inhaling deeply as he reaches up to grab onto your breasts. you begin to ride him, slowly moving your hips up and down, his cock filling you up beyond anything you could’ve imagined. you gradually increase your pace, both of you moaning at the overwhelming sensation, until you are fully bouncing on his cock, your palms resting against his muscular chest to steady yourself as you unravel over him.
mingyu begins to whimper. “you’re so fucking hot,” he utters between heavy breaths. “you’re gonna make me cum.”
you ride him relentlessly, crying out at how good he feels inside you. his eyes close as he releases, thrusting his hips powerfully as he cums in your pussy - the warmth of his cum filling you up. your pace slows, riding him gently as he finishes, his moans tapering off as he begins to come down. you settle onto his cock, laying on him as you kiss him. he kisses you back lovingly, one hand running through your hair, the other caressing the small of your back. you lay there for a while, his chest rising up and down as he breathes deeply. your heartbeat slows, pounding heavily in your chest as you recover.
slowly, he finally pulls out. you roll to his side, wrapping your arms around him in a warm embrace, squeezing him with all your might. he giggles.
“mingyu?” you ask softly after several moments of silence.
“hm?”
“you should’ve told me sooner.”
he sighs. “i wanted to - many times. but i didn’t want to risk our friendship. i didn’t think you felt the same way.”
“i think… i think i’ve always loved you. i just never realized it.”
mingyu smiles. he gives you a kiss on the forehead.
“so… what does this mean? for us,” he asks you.
you look up - his warm eyes are fixated on you, optimistic, awaiting your answer.
“well, i really don’t think anything is going to change.” a nervous look washes over his face - you quickly add, “except that we fuck now and also i want you to be my boyfriend.”
he closes his eyes, letting out a laugh. he pulls you closer into his embrace.
“i like the sound of that.”
–
#ren's fics ੈ♡₊˚•.#kim mingyu#mingyu smut#mingyu fics#mingyu scenarios#mingyu imagines#svt fics#svt smut#svt imagines#svt scenarios#seventeen smut#seventeen fics#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios#mingyu x reader#svt x reader#seventeen x reader
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Jungkook
𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 | Mistakes
Jungkook knew from the first look at your eyes, that you'd be the biggest mistake he'll ever make.
Tags/Warnings: Aged up!Jungkook, Younger!Reader, Age Gap (9 years, JK is mentioned to be 34/35), Angst, Mature romance, Smut, car sex, protected sex, no strings attached, big dick!Jungkook, implied size kink, very mild Dom!Kook undertones, oral (m. receiving), sugar daddy!Jungkook vibes but only in a joking manner
Length: 7k words (oops)
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Jeon Jungkook doesn't really attend parties- typically.
But this time, for this occasion, he can't really pull himself out- he's got to at least show up for a moment, be there and present, before he can call it a night and go home. It's not like he hates his coworkers or employees most of all- he's just not that good at socializing, and never really was.
He's learned to be alone, and now he's too good at it.
A lot of the people in the hall, he doesn't know. That's probably because he's allowed people to bring a plus-one, so most of the people here are couples, which makes the whole situation just so much worse. "You could at least try and appear like you're having fun, you know?" Taehyung laughs, standing closer to his coworker now, a drink in hand. "It's not that bad." He tries to lighten the mood, but Jungkook just rolls his eyes.
"It's not even been an hour and I already want to go." He sighs.
"Why not leave then?" Tae wonders, sipping his non-alcoholic drink, since he's gonna have to drive home later, his wife currently conversing with other coworkers. "Oh, right, because Namjoon-"
"God don't remind me." Jungkook mumbles, shaking his head as he sips his whiskey. "I can't believe I lost that bet." He growls to himself, watching how someone seems to struggle with choosing the right food at the buffet, plate still empty even after several minutes. You look young, or maybe you're just short- he's not sure, but what he is sure about is that you do not work for him or his company- at least not in the same building. He would've noticed you, just like he does right now.
"I think she's Yoongi's plus-one? Or at least he drove here with her together.." Taehyung mumbles, having spotted his friend watching you.
"She looks young." Jungkook mumbles. "And I thought Yoongi was seeing the secretary we hired a few months ago?" He wonders, finally letting his eyes leave you alone, form-fitting dress very complimenting to your body, not too revealing, but still somewhat teasing.
Taunting him, almost.
"Oh, he does! Namjoon caught them making out in Yoongi's office last week." Taehyung laughs. "She's probably just a friend." He shrugs.
A friend, huh?
"Maybe something for you though?" Taehyung jokes. "I mean, I think I saw her drinking earlier, so she's at least of legal age." He laughs, making Jungkook cringe at him. He doesn't really find this whole joke funny- not at all, but Taehyung is right when it comes to Jungkook having a.. severe lack of company these past few years. Only occasionally does he have some sex without any strings attached- never brings anybody home however, refuses to cling to someone.
He's divorced anyways. Most women don't really find that very appealing.
Maybe he can have some simple company this time as well, nothing serious at all- it's been a while, after all, and everyone's an adult here, no matter the age difference. As long as he communicates it properly, there's no reason not to at least converse with you.
So he does indeed approach you, finding you still at the buffet, barely anything on your plate at all.
"Too much to choose from?" He wonders next to you, and he realizes the huge mistake he's made when approaching you the second you lift your head to look at him.
The lights reflect in your eyes like mirrors, minimal makeup perfectly enhancing your features, lips shiny with the most sinful shade of lipgloss this world probably has to offer. He's a goner, right away, lost in the sight of you, as if he's been thrown into the deep end of a pool so cold that it freezes his muscles, making him sink down to the bottom like a stone.
"Oh, no.." You answer, looking back at all the foods. "I have a shellfish allergy, so I'm not sure what I can eat.." You mumble, one hand having reached up to play with the sparkling pink gemstone hanging around your neck.
His mouth feels dry for a second, before he catches himself.
"Here." He mentions, pointing at some small numbers near the names of the foods on the small cards. "Those small numbers, the three right there is for shellfish." He offers, pointing towards a different card close by where the numbers are explained.
"Oh! Thank you so much, I hate contact lenses!" You laugh to yourself. "I usually wear glasses, but I wanted to look pretty.." You giggle, putting some food onto your plate now.
"I'm sure nothing can ruin a face like that." He flirts without truly thinking about it- making you visibly blush, trying to contain a smile.
"I appreciate the compliment…?" You wonder, and Jungkook knows, he's probably about to make another, grave mistake.
"Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook." He introduces himself, and you tell him your name in return, smiling oh-so devastatingly beautiful.
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His plan was absolutely not to explore what might be beneath that pretty dress of yours- and it seems like that might stay that way despite his length inside you.
You're moving your hips in ways that makes him dizzy, mind clouded with lust as you bounce up and down, hands on your back the only thing helping you avoid accidentally hitting the steering wheel. He's pushed the seat back as far as it goes, but you can never be too sure- he wouldn't want you to honk and draw attention to the surely shaking vehicle in the darkened parking lot.
The condom had been pure luck- he's not a fan of pulling out, so if it hadn't been there in the glove box of his car, he probably would've had to awkwardly call it quits before anything really happened at all. It's not like you both instantly were at each other's throats the moment you left the gathering- he simply offered to drive you home instead of Yoongi, who'd wanted to stay a little longer, while you complained about feeling tired. And in his car, you'd talked- casually so, something clicking, as he's now got you on his lap, bouncing on his dick like he's not experienced in quite some time now.
He feels a bit bad. Despite making sure that you know this is nothing but a casual fuck, it still feels a little odd to him. He doesn't like things like these- it feels like he's using you, and he's not a fan of such situations.
Though he can't deny that you feel absolutely divine.
The rain is heavy outside, pushing against the car's windows from all sides, drowning out the otherwise rather obscene sounds coming from between your bodies. Your hands are on his shoulders, fingers gripping his muscles beneath the fabric of his formal button-up. He refuses to kiss you, can't find it in him to do it, and you accept it, instead treating it as detached as you can, simply chasing your high as you fuck yourself on his twitching length.
He feels good. Thick, able to reach far inside you, but not enough to hurt.
The way he holds you is nice too- not too strong of a grip, only enough to guide you, keep you moving, keep you going. He's not big on dirty talk, isn't over the top with anything, and it almost feels like he's treating you like a woman, and not some chick he's met at a party. There's a certain sense of respect he's offering you that gives you confidence, makes you feel powerful for once even though he's clearly setting the pace.
This is something you don't usually get to have. Someone taking you seriously.
"You close?" He asks out of breath, avoiding your eyes, rather looking at your lips, though never moving into action. A limit he's set, and a limit he follows, he's clearly a man that doesn't wildly change his mind on the fly. Though, considering who he is, and where he is in life, he probably has had enough time to be untamed and wild already. You faintly wonder if he's ever been in a long-term relationship. Yoongi hasn't really talked about him much.
Neither have you asked. You've seen him, once or twice- but a man like that is out of range for you.
You nod when he grips your behind, reminding you quietly of his question, hips stuttering as he takes over, helping you move to chase his own orgasm right after yours. You're a bit overly sensitive, but you push through it just to see him clench his jaw, eyes closing as he groans out in relief, cum spurting into the condom inside you.
It's suddenly over, and not even your evening breaths can mask the slight awkwardness that's filling the car.
One of his hands keeps you close, though you have to lean against him a bit as to not move your hips too much as he reaches for something from the glovebox, plastic wrap of the small pack of tissues making a distinctive sound. "You okay?" He asks you, and you nod, now having switched places apparently as you avoid his face entirely.
You rather move a bit weirdly to accept the tissue offered, lifting your hips to awkwardly wipe yourself down, before pulling up your underwear and climbing back into the passenger seat, where you clean the inside of your thighs while he discards the condom from his length with a slight hiss of sensitivity.
You never really know what to say. You don't actually do this often- this is only the second time you've ever hooked up with anyone like this, and it's just as weird as the first time.
"Thank you, by the way." He offers, taking the challenge away from you as he puts the tied up condom in the tissue to discard it at home later. "Let me drive a bit closer to the building, just so you don't get too wet." He says, pulling his seat back into proper position before he starts the car.
Such a gentleman- You're a little disappointed. But only mildly so. Will you even stay in his mind?
Probably not.
You're way too young for a man like him, who most likely wants a proper woman in his life instead of a.. instead of you. You're not even sure where you are at in life- neither a woman nor a girl, somewhere in between, floating, unsure, neither and both. You know however for a fact that you'll remember him- probably for quite a while, before the memory will fade into nothing but a glimpse.
"There we go." Jungkook says, stopping the car very much in front of your apartment building, sideways so that you can run right into the main hall. "Please remember to text Yoongi, okay?" He reminds you. "He might be worried otherwise." He smiles kindly, and you nod, a bit forced, grabbing your light coat and your handbag. "And.. I enjoyed it. Very much so." He makes sure to tell you, making you nod a bit shy.
"I.. uhm, I'm glad." You nod, awkwardly, causing him to chuckle.
"Now go hurry inside before the rain starts again." He urges, making you nod dumbly once more before you open the car door, running inside the apartment building after closing the door.
And he drives off, back home, where nothing waits for him but the humming fridge and a cold, empty bed.
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Daehyun can be a little spoiled, but other than that, he's a well behaved kid for his age.
He loves staying at your place, though his questions on when you'll be getting another dog after your first passed away a year ago are sometimes a bit stinging to your heart. He's a child, obviously- he doesn't understand the hurt that can settle in your soul after losing such an important piece of your life, so you can't blame him for moving on a lot quicker than you.
He's too young to understand that yet.
"Uncle Yoongi has a cat now!" Daehyun tells you as he builds the lego set with you, his small hands having some difficulty here and there, but he's a quick learner, and a good improviser. "But he said I can't play with her, because she's a girl-cat, and girl-cats don't like playing." He explains, pouting a bit as he uses all his strength to pull two pieces apart again.
"Well, I think she's just be a little nervous still." You reassure the boy. "You know, she just moved into a new home. Things might be a little scary to her." You explain, and Daehyun nods.
"I only pet her a bit." Daehyun tells you. "Appa said we're gonna get a dog soon though!" He says with excitement, making you smile.
"That's nice." You agree, helping him pull some bricks apart. You like having the little boy over at your place- it makes you feel both like a grown person, and also like a child at the same time. Daehyun doesn't judge your vast collections of stuffed animals and lego sets- he only sees you as the nice aunt, a big sister, a friend of his dad where he stays over at often whenever work gets in the way and takes away most of Taehyung's attention. Just like this weekend- Taehyung having needed someone to look after the boy, Dae's mother constantly equally without any time. You're not sure how long that marriage is gonna last with her refusing to step back at least a little to properly take care of her own child, and with Taehyung's growing frustration over the situation.
You hope the poor boy won't get caught up in the crossfire. That would just be awful.
Hours later, all the toys put away, your doorbell rings, giving you the clue that someone must be now here to pick the young boy up. Probably either Jimin or Yoongi- but when you open the door, it's neither of them, but a casually dressed Jungkook, hands in his slacks as your gaze gets caught on the slightly unbuttered shirt that's tucked into the pants, LY-labeled belt buckle accentuating his rather slim waist.
What the fuck.
"Oh- uh, come inside." You offer, stepping aside to let him in, Daehyun quickly running up to Jungkook, who mirrors the excitement of the young boy as he squats down to hug him. You let them both have their moment, instead walking around to collect all of Dae's things, checking twice to make sure he didn't forget anything, as you text Taehyung to make sure the man is really supposed to take the boy with him.
He is, which makes you a bit upset. Taehyung could've told you before.
When you walk back inside the living room area, Dae is currently busy showing Jungkook a stuffed animal- a gift from Jimin a year ago, modeled after your dog as a keepsake. "He was suuuper big, and really nice!" Dae beams up at the man. "He always ate ice cubes, but-" the small boy inspects the stuffed animal a little, lips pouting. "-Noona said he was really old, so he went to sleep." He offers, and Jungkook seems to realize what the stuffed toy might actually be.
"Let's put him back on the table then, yeah?" He offers, a hand with faint ink taking the toy from the smaller hands of the boy to place it back next to the picture frame of your dog and the collar on the tiny table near the door where he used to sleep. "So he can sleep well." He explains, making Dae nod. When you make your presence finally known, Jungkook removes the hand, heavy watch on his wrist faintly hitting the edge of the table for a second, as he watches how you help the small boy into his jacket.
You're a little confusing.
"Alright." You say after successfully getting Daehyun to put on his shoes. "Theres- uhm, there's a, wait, I'll show you.." You say, moving to pull a little folder out of one of the bags packed. "This one, please make sure Taehyung sees this. It's Daehyun's homework, and he really needs to do them this time." You emphasize. "Just make sure he actually looks inside at least once.." You sigh, putting the bright red folder back into the bag.
"I'll make sure." Jungkook accepts, taking the bag from you. "Anything else?" he wonders, and you refuse any eye contact, instead shaking your head to hug Daehyun goodbye as you bring him and Jungkook to your front door.
"Noona, you gotta hug Jungkookie too!" Dae says, surprising you with his lack of formality when addressing his father's friend- but you don't question it.
And admittedly, Jungkook is fairly surprised when you do in fact reach out to hug him goodbye, though very formal. It's still.. oddly nice, you don't seem to wear perfume but rather rely on your scented bodywash, which smells very good to him. This is weird. Why is he getting such feelings of comfort for a simple hug with nothing attached to it?
And why is he kind of disappointed when it ends far too quickly?
But it gets worse in the car, because Daehyun has clearly gotten the wrong message entirely. "Noona doesn't have a boyfriend." He says from the backseat where Jungkook has placed the booster seat he's gotten from Taehyung in cases like these where he has to pick up the young boy. "And appa said you don't have a girlfriend." He says, making Jungkook nod and hum a reply. "Noona is really pretty." He giggles. Jungkook cant help but chuckle along.
"She is." He agrees, because he won't lie about that. You are very pretty in his opinion, though he can only really judge you mostly by looks alone. "Did you have fun? I heard you were there the whole weekend." He tries to steer the conversation away, but the young boy clearly doesn't get the message.
"Noona can cook really well!" He praises. "She always makes me my favorite, and then we watch tv in our 'jamas." He says, and Jungkook has to imagine you both probably bundled up in blankets on the small couch you have, watching kid's shows until the poor boy falls asleep.
Domestic. Do you like children? Want your own in the future, maybe?
"Jungkookie?" Dae asks, and Jungkook hums a reply, telling the kid he's listening. "Do you like Noona?" He wonders.
"I don't know her that much, dae. But she seems nice." He offers instead, trying to evade the interrogation of the small boy.
"Do you like drinking?" Dae wonders. "Like, the stuff appa says I can't have?" He asks, and Jungkook grows a bit weary. Why exactly would the young boy ask something like that?
"Sometimes. Why do you ask?" He asks the boy, who seems to deflate now.
"Then you can't be friends with Noona." He complains.
"Why not?" Jungkook wonders.
"Because, the guy noona liked for a while always got mean when he was drinking that stuff." Dae complains, looking out the window. "I was never allowed to play at noona's house when he was there. He really liked that stuff that smells bad, but it made noona upset." He says.
Jungkook tenses up a bit. "Was he ever-, how was he mean to you?" Jungkook wonders.
"He always told noona to do things for him, and never let her play with me." He huffs. "And Yogi didn't like him too, because he always had to stay in his bed." He complains. Jungkook assumes the boy is probably talking about the dog.
Jungkook doesn't know how to ask what he wants to ask. It doesn't concern him at all- after all, it seems like you're no longer together with that guy, so he shouldn't pry. But something makes him worry- deep down, he's awfully wary, since he now realizes you did indeed not even touch any alcohol at the party at all- the drink Taehyung had seen you hold non-alcoholic. How bad must the relationship have been? You might not have a fear of men, but you're clearly affected by the past, it seems like.
"Did.." no. He shouldn't be asking that. It's none of his business.
"Do you get mean too when you drink?" Dae wants to know. "Appa only gets really sleepy." He giggles. Jungkook laughs along. Taehyung truly does only get horribly tired whenever he drinks- and he knows for a fact that he never gets drunk when he has to take care of the boy alone, so he's not at all alarmed by those words.
"No, I don't get mean." Jungkook answers. "I don't really drink a lot of it, so it only makes me feel a bit silly." He offers as an explanation, and Dae nods.
"Then, maybe Noona won't mind." He says, causing Jungkook to chuckle, shaking his head.
"Why do you want Noona to like me so much?" He wonders, and at that, Taehyung's son becomes excited.
"Because, then my favorite people like each other!" He exclaims. "And that's really cool. Then we can have sleepovers together, and you can help me get a new dog for noona!" He says. "She's really sad that Yogi sleeps now. I think she's lonely." He whines.
"We can have sleepovers anyways, dae." He laughs.
"But, appa told eomma, that you need someone you like." He huffs. Jungkook reminds himself to scold his friend at a later date. "Because you're not happy now, and you're lonely. And noona's lonely too." He offers.
Luckily, Jungkook escapes any further questioning as he finally reaches Taehyung's apartment, ready to drop the young boy off.
The whole conversation not leaving him at all the entire rest of the day, as he realizes he forgot to show Taehyung the folder.
Crap. This is your fault.
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It's been weeks- and apart from rubbing one out to the remaining memories of you in his car, he's not really thought much about you at all.
He's seen you on occasion here and there at the grocery store or a coffee shop, which made him realize that you've always been right under his nose but he just never knew who you were, but you two don't really have had any actual conversations anymore.
There's no reason for it.
He now knows that you're actually the part-time nanny Taehyung used to have a few years back, when you apparently had just been fighting to find a new job to keep your apartment and not get kicked out for not being able to pay rent. Back then, Taehyung and his wife had been living separated for a bit after a pretty bad fight- so the father had needed someone to take some weight off his shoulders, and help with the small child who couldn't even talk yet. You helped raise Daehyun basically, more or less- and, according to Taehyung, it shows.
The young boy has a strong sense of justice, and shares everything he has happily- something that he's learned from you. It makes some odd things make sense now to Jungkook as well- how Dae has some habits that seem very unique, but also too specific to have been developing all on their own. The child holds the front of his shirt a lot- something Jungkook noticed you do in a similar way as well, whenever you think of something.
Today, it's Daehyun's birthday. And Jungkook is sure, that the young boy probably demanded that both jungkook and you had to be there.
And he's right.
The minute he enters Taehyung's penthouse, he spots you sitting on the floor with the child, who's currently trying to read his own birthday card to you, before he spots him in the doorway. You look pretty, yet again. No makeup it seems like, and he can't say that you need it. You obviously don't, eyes still sparkling dangerously, smile still as lethal as ever as you wave a little bit before getting up.
You're dressed comfortably. He likes the sight of it- the casual dress you wear not too short to be scandalous, but short enough to tease him with the skin of your legs, hidden beneath a sheer pantyhose. Or?
No. There's an upper hem of lace- those are just stockings.
"Jungkookie, appa said you'll drive noona home today?" Dae says, now held up on Jungkook's hip, as he looks at Taehyung who laughs.
"Dae, I said I'm gonna ask him if he can drive her home!" He scolds gently. "Hey- sorry, he just runs with whatever he hears." The father tells him, and Jungkook just smiles, shaking his head.
"I can drive her home, no worries." He simply affirms. "It's no problem."
"Taehyung I told you I can go home by myself!" You whine, and Jungkook is intrigued by this seemingly new side of you. He knows you as a little shy, soft spoken, polite. You always greet him when you see him, and you've talked a little bit in his car weeks back- but then again, you only know each other on a very surface level.
He wonders what you're really like.
"And I said you're not driving alone when you're sick." Taehyung threatens, dad-voice coming through as he attempts to push through your clearly stubborn behavior, and Jungkook can't help but watch intently as your eyes roll around, attitude clear as you don't take your friend seriously at all.
"Noona is gonna be a mommy!" Daehyun blurts out to Jungkook, and for a split second, his entire body freezes, blood cooling down to the negatives, bones filling with fear.
He wore a condom- but what if something happened? What if it leaked? Was that even possible? He's not against becoming a father, absolutely not- but he'd like to have a proper relationship for that, a stable one, not something like this.
"Daehyun!" You scold with red cheeks, and Taehyung runs a hand over his face. "Appa just asked me if I was, I'm not!" You whine embarrassed, sighing. "Oh god, guys, please! I'm an adult woman, I'm not sick, I can go home by myself." You complain, walking into the kitchen, presumably to escape the pressuring situation.
"She threw up earlier, that's why I asked her. Dae must've heard me." Taehyung says, after averting his son's attention back to the TV in the living room, where his favorite show plays. "She refuses to see a doctor for it. But you look like you've seen a ghost-" Taehyung teases, before his eyes sharpen. "…could it be that the mention of her becoming a mommy made you worry?" He pokes, and Jungkook furrows his brows, averts eye contact. "Holy shit, you two!?" He hisses, and Jungkook groans.
"Shut up, it was nothing." He simply says, while Taehyung's eyes widen in a scandalized manner.
"Nothing?! Jungkook, where is that nothing?" He argues, surprisingly sternly. "I'll drive her home."
"You're acting like I forced myself onto her-" Jungkook sighs, but Taehyung shakes his head. "Taehyung, you heard her. She's an adult woman, she can decide things herself." Jungkook defends you. "I'll drive her home, and I'll text you once she's dropped off." He says, before he walks into the kitchen where you're filling up a glass with water.
"Oh god that was embarrassing." You whine into your hands, before you shake your head. "He acts as if I'm dying any second whenever something's up." You mumble, drinking from your glass. He can see you're a bit less energetic- hand a bit shaky as you drink.
"He worries." Jungkook offers, leaning against the counter next to the fridge, across from you. "And you should go see a doctor if you don't feel well." He scolds, and yet again, you roll your eyes.
"And you should try and work on your facial expressions, mister." You huff. "I could see the panic a mile away when Dae said I'm pregnant." You bite, making him tilt his head a little "Either way, I'm fine. I can't afford to call in sick right now or my landlord will kick me out the minute my rent is late again." You laugh a little bitterly, finishing your water before you rinse the glass in the sink.
"Do you not get paid a regular salary each month?" He wonders. You shake your head.
"I do, but it's the monthly bonus that keeps me afloat." You explain. "And I only get that one if I'm not sick and bring appropriate numbers to the table." You sigh. "My landlord just searches for a reason to kick me out, I'm sure." You mumble as you dry your hands.
"How come?" Jungkook asks.
"I didn't want to go out with the guy." You shrug, not looking at him. "I like older men, but sixty? No thanks.." You huff, turning around to look at a smug looking Jungkook, his arms crossed.
"Would've never guessed." He tells you in a cocky manner, and you cross your arms to mirror his position in an exagerated manner.
"I would've probably let you screw me if you were younger too." You respond.
"Oh?" He raises his brows. This is oddly fun. "Were you that needy?" He teases, and suddenly, your eyes soften quite a bit, scaring him.
"No." You shake your head. "Guess you were just that charming." You shrug.
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"If your job pays that awful, why not change it?" Jungkook wonders as he maneuvers out the parking lot, leaving Taehyung's home behind after Daehyun had gone to bed.
You shrug.
"I'm lucky I got accepted in this one." You say. You're tired- it's obvious to him. "I dropped out of school too early. Now I'm facing the consequences- and honestly, it's not that bad either. I get by, and it's a quiet life I'm living, which is nice." You offer.
"Do you not have any ambitions?" He asks, relaxed now that he knows you're not one to be overly sensitive when it comes to more personal topics like that. You don't try to read between the lines where there's most of the time nothing at all to find.
"Its not like I don't have any ambitions." You respond, neither denying nor confirming. "It's more that I realized some of those ambitions were.. unrealistic. So I instead pursued what was." You shrug. "Nothing too deep. It's.. part of growing up, I guess." You explain.
Growing up. Talking to you, right now, truly does remind him of that. Almost two hands between you both in years, but you're awfully matured in the way you think at its core. You just have a softer shell around it, your opinions can still move, your mind still has some sort of wiggle room.
His doesn't. He makes decisions and sticks by them, most of the time. He doesn't like change, he enjoys his routine, keeps everything in order most of the time- until now.
Because you're definitely a decision he keeps bending around.
"How much is your rent?" Jungkook asks, and you look at him from where you're leaning against the car's window, an amused expression on your face.
"Why? You wanna be my sugar-daddy?" You joke, and he shrugs, much to your surprise.
"I don't care what you call it." He simply says. "But if it get's you to take some time and take care of your health, I can take care of a month's rent." He offers.
"I don't like that." You respond.
"I know." He laughs. "I've come to learn that you don't like accepting help. But it's something you can't avoid at times." He explains to you. "I'm just offering help. Whether or not you take it, is up to you." He shrugs.
"Why would you do that?" You wonder, suspicious.
"Because Taehyung worries about you. And Daehyun would be terribly upset if something was to happen to you." He admits. "I don't know you well enough to say that I'm doing this for you- so I'll be honest. I do this mostly for them." He says.
You nod. You like this- that he's actually telling the truth, instead of trying to woo you into something.
"Alright." You sigh, tired. "I'll.. text you?" You wonder, and he nods.
"I have your number from Taehyung already." He chuckles. "I just didn't have a reason to reach out yet." He admits.
You just nod, eyes falling shut for longer he notices.
You must be working hard if you're this exhausted. He really hopes you'll take care of yourself after he helps you sort everything out.
Hopefully his help is enough.
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He's lost control over the situation. How can this happen a second time?
He's been texting you these past few days, especially after you've finally took some time off of work to sort out your doctor's visits, having received some medication to finally help you resolve your issues.
He's not sure why he keeps coming back to you. And he's especially not sure how the hell he managed to get himself caught up in a situation like this twice, especially after Taehyung had been clearly upset about the first time.
There's something about you he can't really pin-point. It's both scary, and exciting.
You're kneeling on a small heart-shaped pillow from your small couch, hands occupied and slicked up with your own spit as you caress his length, head of it warm inside your mouth as you lick and suck. You've offered, and he assumed it to be a joke- but the moment you got down between his legs, all of his usual control over things went out the window. He might appear to be the one in charge, right in this moment, but he's truly at your mercy.
It makes him anxious. This shouldn't be happening.
But he can't deny the appeal of you taking care of him so well- it feels scarily intimate to have you between his legs like this, eyes closed as you seem to enjoy yourself, mostly due to his own hand reaching out to run his fingers through your hair, brushing it out of your face and taking the chance to offer some form of affection before he collects your hair in his fist for a second, long sigh escaping him as he feels the tip of your tongue push against the head of his cock, dipping into the small point, before you adjust your legs, letting go of him for just a second to lick from the base to the very tip once more.
You're a succubus, hidden behind a pretty face and sinful body.
He's not sure what your motivation is, hasn't really figured it out for the first time either. There's this little devil on his shoulder constantly urging him to accept your advances and let himself go, but the angel is louder, and keeps on feeding him doubts about the whole thing. He's consumed by his work, he doesn't have time for you, he can't offer you what you might want from a relationship. He doesn't even know if he himself is ready for something like that- he knows he should be, considering how long ago his divorce had been finished, but it's still odd to think about it. He's scarred by what went down, and doesn't want to go through this again.
He can handle being hated by one person he used to love. He wouldn't be able to have two doing the same.
It made him wonder if he's even someone worthy of having a relationship. Does he have enough to offer you that's not physical or monetary? No. He doesn't have time, he's awkward as hell, he doesn't like parties and rather enjoys laid back vacations somewhere no one knows him- if he even takes one at all. He wants a quiet life-
A quiet life?
'it's a quiet life I'm living, which is nice.'
Maybe it's your hands on his cock, the back of your tongue over his tip, or the way your fingers suddenly move to massage his balls just right- but he's facing this horribly ironic moment of both pleasure and realization at the same time as his cum shoots into your mouth, lips sealed over the head to suck him for all he's got. His hand keeps pushing your head, fingers digging into your hair, and you moan quietly at the faint sting of it.
His head rests back on your couch. His hand loosens, letting you go, while his eyes stay closed, breath deep and uneven as he tries to calm himself. He doesn't even realize how you tuck him back into his underwear as he softens, though you leave the fly and belt untouched, instead moving to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.
You wait. For what? You're not sure.
"I.." He starts, taking in a deep breath, a hand through his hair trying to sort him out again. "..you.."
"Was it good?" You wonder almost innocently, watching him amused.
He nods. "Very." He simply answers, brain dumb. He hates this.
"Nice." You smile, before you move to put the little pillow back on the couch. "Do you wanna.. leave right now? Or stay for coffee?" You wonder, treating this all way more casual than he is. He's not sure what to do. But he knows you need to talk about this.
"Can you come here for a second?" He asks, and you nod, putting down the mug you got out of the pantry, making your way over to him to sit on the couch next to him. "I hope you know this isn't.. needed. I honestly just wanted to help you out with rent." He urges, and you nod.
"I know." You say, making him feel a bit lighter. "Was that.. not something you wanted?" You worry, but he shakes his head.
"I'm.. I'll have to be honest here." He sighs, having closed his pants and adjusted himself prior already, not leaning forwards with his elbows on his knees. He can't look at you- not if he wants to be honest and straight forward. "I'm not sure." He offers. "I think it's clear that there's an attraction going on- but I don't know how far this can go."
"I'm not in love with you or anything." You defend yourself. "Neither do I have a crush. I just like you." You shrug.
"That's good." He nods to himself. "It's good that you know that. That you... can distinguish it."
"I think your problem might have something to do with.. my age?" You wonder, and Jungkook turns his head towards you, eyes staying on your knees however. "Yoongi mentioned something once. That he has a friend who has some sort of mid-life crisis right now and thinks he's too old for everything." You giggle.
"And how do you know that would be me?" He calls you out a little offended.
"Because it just fits." You laugh. "You play around with Dae all the time, but the second someone watches you, you become all awkward. It's kinda sad." You admit.
"How so?" He wants to know.
"Because it's dumb." You say, leaning back against your couch.
"Maybe for you. But when you're my age-" He starts, and you suddenly start to laugh, cutting him off.
"See! That's how I know you're the one with the crisis!" You joke, hand hitting his shoulder playfully, and without any intention to hurt. "I'm not a kid. I can make my decisions just fine." You say.
"And your decision is?" He wonders, now looking at you.
"That I want to get to know you." You tell him. "I want to.. see where it goes." You offer.
"What if it goes nowhere?" He argues. "I can't promise you some fairytale love-story." He denies. "I'm divorced, I want children at some point, I don't like parties, I work long hours-"
"But that's stuff that we can work out, no?" You wonder. "Time is what you're scared of, right? Then how about this-" You say, suddenly sitting on your knees, body facing his. "Every day you're not trying is a day you could be spending in a more productive way. For example, by getting to know me. Trying out if your idea of a relationship aligns with mine, if your work schedule is too packed, all of that." You offer. "Right now, we could already be talking about more interesting things than the 'what-if'. Or, in your big-man-terms:" You joke, leaning closer to him. "You're wasting time."
"Have you ever considered a career in communication-training?" He chuckles, shaking his head. "You're awfully great at this." He praises, making you giggle.
"Nah, I like my normal nine-to-five." You say. "Even if it barely pays enough."
"Well I heard someone's taking care of rent at the moment." he offers, reaching out to tuck some hair behind your ear.
"Well, only for a month, so that's a bummer." You shrug, leaning into his hand now holding your cheek.
"..I'm not used to being in a relationship." He sighs.
"We can start just being friends." You respond.
"I think we're a little past the general boundaries of friendship." He chuckles.
"Then friends who occasionally have sex." You roll your eyes.
"That's not very romantic." He argues.
"You can fuck me with music in the background?" You joke, and he shakes his head, laughing.
You're truly far more than he thought you are, and he's not sure if he's worth your time. But he wants to be. Looking at you, right now, he wants to be worth it. He wants to put the effort into it, even if it doesn't work out in the end. He wants to try- so that even if you don't fit, you at least had some good memories together that were worth the time spent.
He wants to try.
Even if it's a mistake.
#bts imagine#bts fanfic#bts fic#jungkook imagine#jeon jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook imagine#bts smut#bts jungkook imagine#jungkook fanfic#jeon jungkook imagines#jeon jungkook smut#jeon jungkook fanfic#bts jungkook x reader#bts jungkook fanfic
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Masterlist
Delivery Express ✿
Summary: The reader sees an opportunity to run an untapped market in Hogwarts. Feeling like not doing enough, some books about vampires will help.
Warnings: Making the reader feel bad, no use of y/n
Authors note: English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes beforehand. Still mad that they took my yellow text coloring ⋋_⋌. Proofread by me and me only (Ｔ▽Ｔ)
Previously: Too many voicemails
word count: 1.2k
Notes to deliver: 1057
The dining hall was as busy as always. Piles of food on each table and chatter all over the place. Even the professors talked among themselves. It was hard to hear people next to you, but you for sure could hear the conversations of other people on the other side of the table. Everyone kept to their house, talking to their housemates. And that is why nobody even batted an eye at a girl in a green uniform wearing a suspiciously yellow bow in her hair, sitting next to the Slytherin royalty. The boys did not pay her much attention, talking among themself, in their minds, planning school and world domination as if it was a game of chest. Granted none of them were good at chess but they can still try and play it. In reality, they were planning how to beat Ravenclaw at Quidditch later that week. What weirded them out was the lack of envelopes she liked to have with her. Something about everyone being in the hall made them easy to track.
She received pointed looks from the boys, not noticing them, however. Draco jabbed Blaise in his ribs, trying to get him to say something. None of them dared to say anything. None of them wanted to look like despraed second years waiting for a note from their crush that had never written back. Well, that was until Lorenzo mustered up the courage.
“Where are your love notes at?” He says reaching for the plate full of chicken and bringing it closer to her. Knowing the girl would crawl over the whole table for them if he didn't.
She shrugs and reaches for the chicken strip, the plate now sitting in the middle of the group. Taking a bite before speaking.
“I sold it.” Confusion on their face as she continued to eat and pile more food on her plate.
“ Wha do you mean you sold it?” Asked Blaise. Fork pointing at her.
“Exactly what I said. I no longer run the delivery business.”
“Who did you sell it to?”
Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she put down her food.
“Okay listen. I had a dream right? na in that dream an owl came to me and said if I sold it to her, she was gonna get me a limited edition of that muggle book I've been wanting. So I agreed and sold it to her.”
“You sold it in a dream?” she nods at his question. “ I don't think that's how business works.” He's sure to give her a bit of a side eyes. Maybe it is one of the muggle ways of conducting business he's not aware of. Theodor started to laugh and soon enough others joined him.
Others at the table give them looks but they have been unbothered by it. The girl started to pout, not knowing what was so funny. the boys crack more jokes about owls and cryptic dreams, she however did not pay attention to those. Not even understanding the joke about the owl possibly being Mattheo's dads. She felt a bit sad that her friends made fun of her in the dining hall. Mattheo notices this and stops.
“Wait, you were serious?” He yelps, stopping the other boys from laughing. She just nods hint of tears in her eyes.
“I don't get what's so funny.” Her voice was unstable as she said this and rather than engaging in conversations with them, she piles more food on the plate and eats without looking at them. The boys feel bad for making her feel like that, but you can't blame them. It is not every day somebody tells them they sold business to an owl.
Lorenzo feeling the worst of all of them decides to speak up.
“What is the book about?” Just like that. It was like a switch flipped inside her. She turned to them with a wide smile and sparkles in her eyes. Some would even think she was faking it before to make them feel bad. None would dare to say it aloud.
“I'm not sure, it has something to do with vampires and werewolves.” She says, gesturing with her hands, what only the boys could interpret as a werewolf.
“We have werewolfs too.” Says Mattheo, knowing damn well he did not pay attention when they covered them. He could be only half sure. Even less when the girl shook her head.
“These are sexy werewolfs.” She made sure to emphasize the word sexy. Frustrated at not having any proof for her words. Theodor just rolled his eyes at her comment.
“ I can howl if you're interested.” He says gesturing to his body. A disgusted look from Blaise and a sigh from her discouraged him from actually howling.
“What else is it about.” Says Draco, although it was hard to understand him, as he was showing his fifth scone in his mouth.
“Something about the thing that shall not be named.” She says and Mattheo's ears perk up.
“My dad?”
“No, not that one.” Mattheo just made a disappointed sound at her answer.
They have seemingly moved from the conversations. Not bothered by the fact that their friend quit her business and sold it to an owl in her dream. It wasn't so strange after all in a school of magic and wizardry. Well, no, it was strange, but not as much as people would expect.
Lorenzo however stopped his chatter when a little note fell in front of him, catching it before it could touch his food. None of his friends seemed to notice this. All caught up in their conversation, trying to see how many scones can Draco actually stuff in his mouth. So he turned to a girl, leaned closer to her, and whispered.
“I thought you stopped.” A sly smirk appears on his face. The girl looks at him confused before turning red all over her face and ears. Her eyes fell on the note that sat between his fingers. Avoiding his eyes, he put his arm around her shoulders to make her look at him. She took a breath to answer him but she only managed to stutter a few words before a yell from Mattheo interrupted her. Both Lorenzo and her look at the other boy, also holding a note in his hand. They exchanged confused looks before other one fell in front of Blaise.
More and more notes started to fall around them. Along with other mail as the wols flew circles around the hall. Everyone looked up amazed, the amount of love notes made it look like it was snowing. Few love confession howlers could be heard at the other tables. Professor McGonagall was holding a love note on her own, blushing and hiding her face behind her hands.
That's when they heard a thud on the table. A box set of limited editions of books landed right in front of their friend. The girl squealed in excitement, completely abandoning her food to immediately pull one out to investigate it. They all looked at her in shock not believing their eyes. Lorenzo's note was completely forgotten. Coos from an owl sounded above their heads. The girl snickered at their shocked faces.
“I guess I did sell the business after all.”
Notes to deliver: 0
Final author note: We have come to the end of the series! Hope you liked it! Don't hesitate to send me questions if you have any. Anyone on the tag list will be automatically added to the sequel tag list, if you're against it please let me know and I will remove you! I hope you're doing well and I'll see you next time. ♡(ŐωŐ人)
Tag list:
@daisiesformylove , @klimovatereza-blog , @lafrone , @enfppixie , @rafegfs , @frogtape , @lovelyygirl8 , @catiwinky, @anyam444 , @leeleecats , @ghostgardn , @reverse-soe , @ultramarinetovelvet , @iwishigotswallowed , @jazz-berry , @justatadbonkers
#hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry#hogwarts au#slytherin#slytherpuff#hufflepuff#slytherin boys#lorenzo berkshire#blaise zabini#matheo riddle#mattheo riddle#theodore nott#draco malfoy#x reader#theodore nott x reader#slytherin boys x reader#slytherin boys x you#draco malfoy x reader#mattheoxreader#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle x you#blaise zabini x reader#blaise zabini x you#lorenzo berkshire x reader#lorenzo berkshire x you#draco malfoy x you#theodore nott x you#hufflepuff reader#fluff#Hermes like ass#harry potter fanfic
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Big & Tall
Pairing: Sam Winchester x F. Reader
Summary: You steal Sam’s shirt. But that simple theft comes at a big price.
Request: Can you write something where Sam notices the reader wearing his shirt?
Song Inspo: “Look At You” by Screaming Trees
Word Count: 2,200
Warnings: 18+ only to be safe. Fluff, thievery, kitchen shenanigans, implied smut, tinge of angst and feels.
It was an honest mistake, really.
After the latest hunt, Sam graciously offered to let you wash your clothes here in the bunker (since most of them were bloodstained). You had to pull a finished load from the dryer before you could use it, not knowing if it was Sam or Dean’s clothes you were shoving into a nearby basket.
When you later went back for your clothes in the dryer, you’d apparently grabbed one of Sam’s black undershirts in all the fabric shuffling.
An accident. Though you hadn’t realized it until you were back in the comfort of your borrowed room in the bunker, sitting on your bed and folding your laundry.
You pulled out one of those big-and-talls and took one good look—and you knew it could only fit perfectly on Sam Winchester’s extra-long torso.
A smile unconsciously drew across your face.
You knew you should just bring it over to him. His room was a mere two doors down the hall…but instead, you gave into the quiet, secret urge to fold it up and put it with the rest of your laundry, knowing full well you were going to use it from now on as a sleep shirt.
The thing was so long it reached halfway down your thighs. (AKA: the perfect length.) But you really didn’t think he would miss an old-ass undershirt like this one.
The next morning, you made sure you were dressed in some pajama pants, your most comfortable bra, and an old college shirt before you ventured out of your room and into the kitchen.
Predictably, Sam was already up and dressed for the day, making some coffee. It was early enough that Dean was likely asleep, or at least still getting himself together.
Sam turned and greeted you with a smile. “Morning.”
“Mhmm,” you nodded groggily, though you offered him a “pleasant” smile before you accepted a coffee mug from him.
Sam’s smile deepened slightly. He knew you weren’t a morning person. He sipped at his own mug while you held yours with both hands, raising it slowly to your lips. You closed your eyes at its hazelnut warmth; trust him to stock the fridge with your favorite creamer. You hummed in delight.
Sam’s gaze was warm on you too, though you didn’t realize it.
“Hey, uh…we’re running low on stuff. Want to go somewhere for breakfast?” he asked.
You met his gaze and had to stifle your smile this time.
“Sure,” you nodded. “Want to wait for Dean?”
Sam shrugged. “We can bring him something back.”
Interesting. Your smile grew, despite your best efforts.
“Okay. Let me just get dressed,” you said.
And maybe you’d put a little makeup on, fix your frizzy bedhead. Apparently you and Sam were going on a brunch date.
Not a real one though, you rolled your eyes at yourself as you trekked down the hall. You had known the Winchesters for a couple of years now, and had gone through some real scrapes together whenever they needed your help, or vice versa. They were quickly becoming part of your people. Your family.
…But never more than that, it seemed.
Your smile slowly fell before you reached your room. You just couldn’t know that Sam was staring after you, down the hall, with a similar contemplation on his face.
“Think Dean’ll crap his pants when he sees the Impala’s gone?” you remarked. You were the passenger while Sam drove. You knew he must've been savoring this, as it was one of the few times he’d ever sat in that seat.
“I left him a note,” Sam replied in amusement.
“Aw, damn,” you teased. “Here I thought we were going on Mission Impossible.”
He shook his head, but his smile kicked up at the corners. He paused when something occurred to him.
“Hey, by the way.” He turned to you in askance. “Did you happen to see one of my shirts when you were doing laundry yesterday?”
You perked up internally, but you tried to school your features into something more nonchalant. Casual. Yeah.
“Uh, no,” you replied. Somehow, even that small lie made you feel a prickle of guilt. “What color was it?”
“Black,” he said. Good thing he was focused on pulling into the diner’s parking lot, and not on your blushing face. “Can’t seem to find it.”
You averted your gaze and bit the inside of your lip so you wouldn’t smile.
“Sorry, haven’t seen it. I’ll keep a lookout though.”
After a nice morning with Sam (you brought back a breakfast burrito for Dean), you spent the rest of the day catching up on Game of Thrones with the brothers.
It was nice to have a rare day off, even if you spent most of it trying to ignore how your thigh was resting against Sam’s. How you could feel his warmth radiating from his arm, laid behind your head on the couch, and how if you’d just leaned over a few inches, you could’ve been resting against his flannel-covered chest.
God. You’re such a girl, you inwardly lamented at yourself. Fucking c’est la vie.
At their insistence, you spent another night at the bunker while you rested up. That werewolf hunt had been particularly brutal on everyone, especially your wounded side. It was already starting to heal, but would definitely be uncomfortable while driving.
Now, ordinarily you weren’t one to let that keep you down…though it did give you an excuse to stay a little while longer.
When you all finally called it a night, you took a long, hot shower and pulled on the shirt over your underwear. It now kind of felt like contraband, but that thought also amused you. It also made you feel closer to him, in whatever small, pathetic way.
You spent the next couple of hours trying and failing to fall asleep in your room. You tried listening to music, daydreaming, even counting damn sheep for what that was worth, but your brain was wide awake.
You blew out an irritated sigh into the darkness and silence.
And then your stomach growled. Ugh, fine!
You got up. It was late enough at night that you didn’t bother changing clothes, lest you be spotted by a wild moose. You just padded out barefooted down the hall and into the kitchen, where you raided the fridge.
Geez, Sam was right about them being low on options, you thought as you perused a damn near empty fridge. There was milk and creamer, a couple cases of beer (of course), some crumpled ketchup packets, and a half-eaten burger that already had something fuzzy growing on it.
This is just sad. You grimaced, but you stuck your head in closer to see if you could find anything in the back. If you only knew about the hot gaze on your ass.
“Midnight snack?”
The voice, though familiar, startled the shit out of you. You banged your head on the edge of the freezer door when you jumped on reflex. You cried out and your hand flew to the back of your head, just before a larger hand covered yours.
You glanced up at found Sam’s handsome face—very apologetic, but somehow silently laughing.
“Uh, sorry. You okay?” he asked.
“Y-Yeah,” you replied. You faltered a bit as you realized how close he’d gotten, staring down at you with those earnest hazel eyes. But those eyes soon dipped and took in the rest of you…clad in only a black shirt that brushed your bare thighs.
You watched it start to compute on his face, in the tilt of his head, and the subtle raise of his brows.
“Is that my shirt?” he asked.
Your lips twitched, despite your blushing embarrassment.
“No,” you replied.
His gaze flicked up to yours. He smiled a little incredulously.
He knew you were a filthy liar. But you slipped your hand from under his and crossed your arms under your breasts, leading him to drop his hand from your hair.
“It’s soft…and comfy,” you said lamely. And you wished it smelled like him.
Sam was amused, and a little surprised…and undoubtedly turned on. He couldn’t help but notice your bare legs, the smooth expanse of skin, the suggestion of curves under his shirt, and the firm peaks of your nipples through the fabric.
“Okay. You can keep it,” he said, when his gaze finally drew back up to yours. “For a price.”
Your face felt hot. Your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth for a moment, but somehow you managed to answer him.
“Name it,” you said gamely. Your stance became an unspoken challenge.
Sam’s lips drew closer to a smile.
He reached for your chin and tilted your face up towards his. There was a moment of uncertainty there, as if he was giving you time to pull away, if you wanted to.
The truth was, you were holding your breath. It felt like you’d been waiting a small eternity for this exact moment.
Your arms uncrossed. Slowly you reached for him, grabbing onto the front of his blue flannel, and he bent down to you. When his lips finally touched yours, it almost short-circuited your brain. You inhaled deeply and melted a bit, raising your hand to the back of his head to keep him there.
You felt the gentle way he caressed your cheek, and later the strength in his hands when he molded them to the curve of your waist and pulled you in close. You wrapped your arms around his neck in response, and the kiss became a fierce, sloppy meeting of lips.
His tongue swept across your bottom lip and sought entrance. You welcomed him in with a wordless moan.
Your fingers slipped into his hair, nails grazing his scalp. It earned you a deep sound of pleasure from his mouth into yours. Soon enough, those same strong hands were roaming down your waist and hips, then squeezing your ass, and pressing you against the hard planes of his body. You also felt the hardening length of him against your stomach.
“Sam,” you gasped against his lips.
That seemed to pull him out of the frenzied haze. Panting for breath though he was, he broke from you, pulling away far enough to look down at you with furrowed brows. There was a question in his eyes that he still voiced.
“Too much?” he asked.
It was a loaded question, but you thought you could read them all.
Do you want this? Do you really want me? We can stop…
Your answer was simple. You pulled yourself up on your toes and claimed his lips with a devouring kiss. Sam’s eyes closed on a sharp inhale, but his hold on you tightened again. He bent down to move his hands down the back of your thighs, and he squeezed twice, wordlessly encouraging you to jump for him.
You had electricity in your veins and a warm pulsing between your thighs. In your frazzled state, you did your best to jump up, but he helped you the rest of the way. You were able to wrap your legs around his waist, though you let out a small yelp at being vaulted so high.
Now you had the rare privilege of looking down at Sam’s amused face. You smiled down at him, caressing his cheek.
“I think I want a tour of your room,” you said.
“Good,” Sam replied. Despite the care he took in how he held you, you saw the hunger in his eyes. “I could go for a midnight snack.”
You couldn’t help but giggle at that. You clung to his shoulders as he carried you down the hall and into his room, where he locked the door behind him.
The man was a furnace, you discovered, after your skin was dewy and glistening against his, and the sheets laid tangled between your bare legs.
He held you to his chest while he recovered on his back. You rested there, just enjoying the sound of his heartbeat slowly coming down from its race. His fingertips traced lazy patterns up and down your naked back.
Sam had taken great pleasure in tossing the shirt along with his other clothes onto the floor. Your panties had been flung to parts unknown.
You smiled at the thought, while your nails made delicate tracks of their own across his slightly furry chest.
“What’re you thinking?” he asked you. Quiet and steady.
With a sigh, you pushed up onto your elbow on his pillow, so you could see his face. Your hand found his cheek. There his stubble pricked against your palm, and you drew your thumb tenderly across his his lower lip.
“I’m hoping you want more from this than one…very awesome night,” you confessed.
Sam smiled, reaching up to grasp your wrist gently. It was a different kind of touch, where just a few moments ago, he’d pushed your body damn near to its limits. And yet, he knew his own strength. Controlled, even in his bed.
“Yeah, I do,” he replied, though his eyes gradually fell from your face. “I’ll be honest, it uh…scares me a little.”
“What does?” you asked with a frown. You waited until he looked up at you again.
“This matters to me,” he said at last. “You matter to me.”
And the people that mattered all too often got taken away from him.
Your throat constricted. Because in his wary eyes, you could almost see the thoughts that were likely plaguing his mind. Things that might’ve kept him from this night with you for so long.
In that moment, you made a decision. You lowered down to press a gentler kiss to his lips.
“Then let’s give it a try,” you said.
AN: It got a little angstier than I intended there at the end lol, but I went with it! I so hope you guys enjoy this. I love me some Sam. 💜
Sam Winchester Masterlist
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#big and tall#sam winchester#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester x you#sam winchester x female reader#spn#reader request#stealing Sam's shirt#supernatural#sam winchester smuttish#fluff#tinge of angst#zepskies writes
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HELLO so i was wondering if you have some winter soldier x reader fics?? ive been trying to find some but theyre all so short (still amazing stories tho) tysm, i really appreciate you making recs
Winter Soldier!Bucky
masterlist | req masterlist
ONESHOT
Into Cursed Pixie Dust by @buckets-and-trees
“He's credited over two dozen assassinations in the last fifty years…” but you don’t know that. You run into him once, then again, again, again. Destiny draws you together, and neither of you can deny the pull. And yet though he never ages, you do.
Stalker by @you-are-my-sanctuary
In which Bucky has a crush on the new PR manager and is being an adorable stalker.
sleepwalking by @lanadelreyscokewhor3
when your boyfriend bucky wakes up with the winter soldier mindest, you do the only thing you know how to do- comfort him. he does the only thing he knows how to thank you- possessive sex.
Colors in the Dark by @buckychrist
The world is without color, and that’s never bothered the Winter Soldier. The Fist of HYDRA didn’t have time for love and soulmates. At almost a century old, what are the odds that his soulmate was even still living?
ephemeral by @earlgreydream
the winter soldier shows up wounded at your door during a storm.
Purgatory by @wkemeup
While on a mission, Bucky becomes dissociated into the Winter Soldier. But instead of becoming a threat, his instinct is to protect.
a soldier gone rouge by @kinanabinks
the winter soldier has been sent to kill you. why, then, are you so wet?
Reverse Psychology by @waiting4inspiration
Bucky’s Winter Soldier mode is triggered. But you have something up your sleeves that will bring him back.
Comply by @gogolucky13
With Hydra, everyone is a prisoner.
Don’t Fear the Reaper by @gogolucky13
One night, the Winter Soldier appears at your place of work to eliminate a target. He leaves you alive, only to return a few months later.
Fatal Mistake by @rookthorne
A rogue agent amidst their ranks, it was the perfect plan, a perfect escape. It was their fatal mistake.
Wolf, Partner, Gloves… by @revengingbarnes
HYDRA’s words make Bucky go into Winter Soldier mode. Then he meets you, and you make for him words that will bring him back to normal.
the dragon and her shadow by @kashimos-hajime
You fall in love with the Winter Soldier, and they punish you for it. Sentiment is weakness, but what can they do? After all, they cannot kill the Fist of H.Y.D.R.A. and mortal men cannot even begin to comprehend slaying a dragon.
take it easy, romeo by @sunmoonandeddie
The Soldat remembers one person through it all.
You Found Me by @samthemarvelfan
Bucky Barnes always came home to you. What happens when he doesn't? Worse than that...what happens when he forgets you existed?
Gone Again by @tokoyamisstuff
The Winter Soldier is lost and confused, unable to remember a single thing - except for the place where he’d find the woman that had become his safe space.
I’ll Come Back for You by @milliedazzledust
something where he is in winter soldier mode and protecting the scientist (y/n) where she is the only one who can sort of calm him down after a mission.
Void by @theeleggymeggy
Working as a nurse at HYDRA, you find yourself intervening when you catch Alexander Pierce striking The Asset. You don’t even know this man, but you can’t just stand and watch him be beat down.
Sweet Memory by @
SERIES
One’s Promised by @invisibleanonymousmonsters
Living a double life was not a choice when one was the daughter of Alexander Pierce. Y/N was the youngest agents of SHIELD and one of the most respected threats within Hydra’s empire. No matter her allegiance, she was feared by both. Y/N Pierce would’ve tried to escape it all… if it hadn’t been for The Winter Soldier.
Soldat by @the-fallen-nightmare
Captain America and Reader have worked together at SHIELD for over a year. What happens when they have a run in with The Winter Solider and Steve finds out the secret Reader had been hiding from him all this time? And what happens when reader is captured by Hydra and The Winter Soldier, again. Can she make Soldat remember her or is her life with Steve just a slow fading memory now?
Breach by @darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor (dark)
The reader finds herself in the Winter Soldier’s cross hairs during a lock down.
Reset by @lunarbuck
The government has fallen, Hydra has taken over. You were an agent of SHIELD long before the reign of terror began, and became a member of the resistance when they needed you most. Everything changes when the Winter Soldier captures you from your safe house.
Devil’s Backbone by @trashmenofmarvel
With your team dead and your mission failed, you’ve been taken by the assassin to an unknown location and are at the mercy of your cruel tormentors.
Krasavchik by @after-avenging-hours
While under orders from Karpov to test the Soldat’s loyalties to Hydra, you find yourself questioning your own loyalties.
Welcome Home… Soldat? by @winterarmyy
Y/N had make a habit of greeting Bucky a warm 'welcome home' everytime he came back from his missions, but there was one particular day when she unknowingly greeted someone else.
#bucky barnes fic rec#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes smut#winter soldier x reader#bucky barnes series#winter soldier!bucky#winter soldier!bucky x reader#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes x agent!reader#bucky barnes x avenger!reader#bucky barnes x hydra!reader#winter soldier smut#dark!bucky barnes x reader#dark!winter soldier#sex pollen
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‘tis the season | one piece
eustass kid/monkey d luffy/roronoa zoro/trafalgar d water law/usopp/vinsmoke sanji x gn!reader | fluff | ~2.1k words
warnings: some suggestive/18+ themes but nothing explicit
a/n: welcome to my xmas special for the one piece boys !! OKAY before anyone comes @ me for not choosing a food related activity for luffy, pls know that y’all would not be able to decorate shit. he would eat all of the ingredients and/or you would have to lock him out of the kitchen. some of these are loooooooooong. pls enjoy 🎄
18+ MDNI | under the cut for length
eustass kid and the kid pirates will make a competition out of chopping down a christmas tree to put on the bow of their ship. it happens every single year, and kid didn’t used to participate, but when he started dating you, he wanted to be the one to provide you with a tree to decorate and admire.
you always enjoyed watching kid get riled up over something as small as a christmas tree, though. killer, a man with taste, would always find the perfect tree, then kid would lay his claim to it, boasting about how he had an eye for things like this.
this year, it was different, though. kid seemed to be more calm about it than usual and it made the whole crew restless until they reached the island where they'd always look for the trees.
kid’s face stretched into a calm grin at seeing the island approaching, remaining still till the ship was docked and the plank was thrown onto land.
“you comin’ with me?” kid asks, snaking a hand around your waist while he watches the rest of the kid pirates disperse on the island.
“of course!” you happily jump onto kid’s back and point out all the different trees you see and like. kid just shakes his head at you and keeps moving, knowing exactly what he's looking for.
he reaches the edge of the forest and sets you down, shrugging off his coat and grabbing an axe from his belt. it takes him one swing each to fell two small trees.
“will you take those back to the ship, doll? make em look nice.” kid asks, a mischievous smile still settled onto his lips. you don't ask questions and tug the two small trees back to the ship to start decorating them. they likely won't be in the running for the trees the crew will vote on to keep so you figure they’ll look nice to keep in the corners of the captain’s quarters.
one by one, the kid pirates start to make their way back to the ship. and one by one, they trim and prune their trees to make em look especially nice and voteable.
“where’s kid?” killed settlers next to you on the port side, looking out at the forest. you're leaning on the railing and watching the tree line for any speck of red.
“i dunno! he told me to bring back those runt trees to decorate but i haven't seen him since.”
you speak too soon, because not even ten seconds later, you see kid emerge from the tree line, his metal arm gripping what looks to be a twenty foot tall tree.
“i think we all know which one we're keepin'!” kid spreads his arms and looks around at his crew. “right? captain’s orders!” kid grins and gestures toward his tree. the rest of the crew doesn't even argue, they just start stripping the trees of their branches to use as tinder for later.
“so? impressed?” kid approaches you, looking proud as ever.
“bigger isn't always better, kid.” you tease, lightly punching him on the shoulder. he scoops you up into his arms and presses a kiss to your chin.
“oh, you know you love it when it's bigger, baby.”
monkey d luffy is an expert at building snow men because he tries his best to make it look like him! every single year, as soon as there’s enough snow on the ground, he’ll crack his knuckles and start rolling snow into big spheres. the very first time he did this, he made three huge balls of snow and ended up making something resembling more of a snowy caterpillar than an actual human. but he’s learned from his mistakes and is now a master at his craft.
“luffy, can you please put on some gloves? you’re gonna get frostbite!” you call out to him as you watch him roll snow around on the deck. his cheeks and nose are red and he’s sniffling as he shapes the snow into spheres, a big grin on his face despite the freezing temperatures.
“does rubber even freeze?” luffy muses, thinking he’s out of earshot from you and tapping his chin cutely. you smile and shake your head.
“yes, it does!” you say, knowing full well that it doesn’t. but you're hoping your boyfriend might listen to your logic nonetheless. “so that means you can, too!”
“eh, i’ll be fine! i need to be able to feel the snow between my fingertips, anyways!” luffy grins at you and gives you a shivering thumbs up. “you can’t look till i’m done, okay? and no peeking!”
you raise your hands in surrender and join robin and nami in the warm library upstairs while you wait for luffy to finish up with his masterpiece.
almost an hour later, luffy bursts into the library with an excited ready! and wraps his arms around you, pulling you up and out of the warmth and into the cold. once you're close enough to the deck, he releases you and moves his hands over your eyes.
“m’kay, one…two…surprise!” luffy removes his hands from your face and smiles brightly at you as he watches you take in his snow artwork.
there are two snow people, one with a straw hat, and another with features similar to yours. you smile and hug yourself, shivering slightly. luffy notices and drapes himself over your shoulders, effectively warming you up and hearing your cheeks up from both his embrace and his sweet gesture.
“it’s us!” he says proudly, pointing to the way that he situated the twig hands of each snow person to make it look like they’re holding hands. you giggle at his thoughtfulness and kiss the tip of his very red and very cold and very cute nose.
roronoa zoro allows his eyes to follow you around the aquarium bar below the sunny’s deck as you put the finishing touches on two mugs of warm apple cider you made while zoro’s been napping by the fireplace. you smile and settle down next to zoro, sitting cross legged and sipping your drink while you use zoro’s chest to prop up your book.
zoro props himself up on one of his elbows and you move your book back into your lap, not taking your eyes off of the words. zoro takes a long swig of the cider, humming in enjoyment at the way the sweet notes of the rum you'd spiked the cider with hit his tongue.
“what're you doin’?” zoro asks, peering up at you with a slight frown on his face and placing his now empty mug behind him.
“what does it look like?” you answer, turning a page of your book and giving zoro a teasing smile. he just grunts and plucks the book out of your fingers. “zoro, what—”
zoro quickly and carefully, so as to not spill your mug of warm cider, grabs you by the hips and places you on top of his chest. you purse your lips and glare down at your boyfriend, whose eyes are now closed and lips curled into quiet satisfaction.
you decide not to say anything and instead rest your cheek against zoro’s chest. he brings his hands up to rub his fingers over your spine, stopping at the small of your back.
“attagirl.”
trafalgar d water law decides that his least favorite thing in the world to do is going to a christmas market on christmas eve. who could choose a worse day to go to a christmas market? bepo. and since the bear was the one who had begged law to allow them to dock at the sea bound christmas market, law had reluctantly agreed. bepo had made a pretty good argument after all.
“maybe you could find something for y/n-chan while we’re there?” bepo had said, hoping to sweeten the deal with possibly finding something nice for you. you’d only been with law for a little less than a year, so this is your first holiday season as a couple, and law had never really thought of whether or not you’d like something for the holidays.
law is dragged around the market, stopping only at stalls where he notices cute little things that he thinks you might like. he shoves his pride down his own throat to hold up various little knick knacks with a do you think she’d like something like this? to bepo.
law, with a little help from bepo, eventually decides on a tiny little mouse soldier statue, complete with the year and name of the island. when he holds it out to you, his hat covering his eyes and his eyes aimed at the snow piled around where you stood, all you can do is giggle.
you take the little statue from law, turn it over in your hands once, then twice, and smile. law feels like he's going to explode.
“well…do you…?”
“do i what?” you inch toward law, ducking your head to try and get a glimpse of his face, which is still hidden beneath his hat.
law frowns, turning his head to continue avoiding eye contact with you, and clears his throat. “do you like it?”
you look back down at the statue that your boyfriend so carefully and thoughtfully picked out for you. you tilt your head up and quickly flick the brim of law’s hat, tilting it up as well.
“hmm, no.” you say, noticing the way law’s shoulders tense up. you press a kiss intertwined with a smile to his lips before speaking again. “i love it.”
usopp looks forward to the holidays each year because that means he’ll be decorating the sunny with christmas lights till it rivals a fully lit city on the sea!
all day, usopp is crawling around in the rafters, stringing up lights and hanging his homemade decorations on the masts. he had enlisted you to pass him various nails and push pins and tools to help him hang up the decorations, but you'd been playing catch with him the whole time.
usopp is an incredibly intelligent man, but he's clumsy. hours of missteps and slips and whoops had your blood pressure and heart rate through the roof and you don't know how much more you can take.
usopp’s smile is wide as he plugs the two ends of the string lights together, his eyes shining in the reflection of the newly decorated Thousand Sunny.
the ship is ablaze with light, and you can't help but smile yourself. the masts glow in a soft and golden light, the snow on the deck is illuminated by the reflection of small and twinkling star decorations that usopp made just for the crow’s nest. there are ornaments and weaves of pine hanging off of every place possible, giving the ship nice red and green hues.
usopp comes up and wraps his arms around you from behind, giving you a gentle and affectionate squeeze.
“pretty, right? now all the pirates in the grand line will see the great captain usopp’s ship from miles away!” usopp makes a grand sweeping gesture with his hand and turns to grin at you proudly.
you lean up to press a kiss to his cheek. “looks amazing, captain usopp.”
vinsmoke sanji closes off the kitchen on christmas eve, after christmas eve dinner, to allow for some privacy while the two of you decorate christmas cookies for the rest of the crew. sanji usually doesn't let anyone else in the crew help out in the kitchen, unless it's you. he likes feeling close to you, his favorite person, when he's in his favorite place, while he's doing his favorite thing.
“no competition, here, okay?” sanji’s pressed up against your back and his hands are on your shoulders when he skims a kiss to the nape of your neck. "let's just have a nice time together, hm?"
he smiles at you before he sets to decorating the cookies with you, jazz playing softly through the radio and sanji making easy conversation or praising your decorations.
you nudge sanji’s shoulder with your own and nod your head down at the cookie you're holding. sanji’s eyes light up when he sees your initials written in blue icing, separated by a pink heart.
“y/n-chan, my love!” sanji cries, throwing his arms around your neck and hugging you tightly. he cups your face and kisses you slowly, ignoring the creaking of the kitchen door and light footsteps creeping closer to the two of you.
you open your eyes just in time to see luffy swipe the cookie you had just shown sanji and make a run for it. sanji follows your eyes and stares at luffy’s back in horror.
you look up to tell sanji that it's no big deal, you can just decorate another one, but sanji is already running after luffy; he's desperate to save the cookie you had decorated with your names on it.
“luffy, get the hell back here so i can put your ass down the garbage disposal!”
taglist: @usoppsstar | @kingofthe-egirls | @anemptypuddingcup | @pileofmush | @luffysprincess | lemme know if you wanna be added to my one piece taglist ✨
#one piece#eustass kid#kid#kid x reader#eustass kid x reader#monkey d luffy#luffy#luffy x reader#roronoa zoro#zoro#zoro x reader#trafalgar law#law#law x reader#usopp#usopp x reader#vinsmoke sanji#sanji#sanji x reader
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begin again // aaron hotchner x reader
begin again
aaron hotchner x fem!reader
description: in which there are five times that aaron hotchner restores your faith in love and one time where you restore his. inspired by begin again by taylor swift.
words: 6.1k
warnings: cursing, a touch of angst, hotch in a quarter zip and casual clothes (yes this requires a warning), fluff, hurt/comfort if you squint, reader has an awful ex (gn pronouns for ex), mentions of violence and injuries
a/n: i’ve been working on this all throughout the week every night at like 3 am running on, at best, 4 hours of sleep so i’m very sorry if there are grammar/spelling errors – i will edit soon. also i fear i’ve been watching too much dharma & greg, and this was the product. enjoy!
i've been spending the last eight months
thinking all love ever does is break and burn and end
but on a wednesday in a cafe
i watched it begin again
One.
It was week one of your new job at the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit when you knew with absolute certainty that as soon as you arrived back at the bureau, you were going to hand in your resignation.
You were sitting away from the rest of the team who all sat together, though a little cramped, and deep into discussion about something that you couldn’t bring yourself to listen to. They were talking normally as if everything they just witnessed over the last few days didn’t affect them.
You knew that you were new to this – it was your first week on the job. But you felt like you should be… happier than the way you currently felt. This was your dream job: one that you’ve spent years working towards. One that you gave everything up for, including your relationship.
However, it was starting to feel like it wasn’t worth it.
The team was very lovely. From the moment the case had begun, each one of them made an effort all throughout the trip to Missouri to make sure you were keeping up and doing okay. They’d even tried to get you to come over and chat with them when the flight started, but you lied and said you were tired.
Your head was leaning against the window, your eyes peering out to see nothing but blue skies and clouds. This was everything you’d ever wanted, so why did you feel the way you did?
A voice in the back of your head told you that your ex was right; you weren’t cut out for this. You were going to fail just like they always said you were going to – this was a mistake.
You couldn’t help but be on the verge of a breakdown with all the thoughts running through your head, but there was no way you could cry due to the presence of someone moving to sit in the seat in front of you. A part of you didn’t want to look up because you knew exactly who it was. You didn’t want to look him in the eyes, but, reluctantly, you did look up only seconds later.
BAU Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner was sitting in front of you with his usual gaze that made you feel slightly intimidated. He seemed to be good at everything he did – or at least everything you had seen him do. He was well-respected, a damn good profiler, and so put-together that it made you feel like a mess in comparison.
“Can I help you, sir?” You asked, attempting to mask the conflicted feelings in your voice.
He ignored your question. “You just finished your first case. I wanted to see how you were feeling. You and Reid really helped by figuring out the geographical profile.”
You should’ve known he would know. This was a plane full of profilers – they probably all knew.
“I’m good,” you lied with an attempted smile that never reached your eyes. “I’m glad we caught the guy; I’m just really exhausted.”
Aaron didn’t say anything as he obviously did not believe you with his eyes still watching you, presumably reading more about you in mere seconds than you even knew about yourself. The two of you sat in silence for a moment, the chatter from the rest of the team filling the air.
“They’ve all been here for years,” he suddenly said. “It still affects them, but it gets easier.”
“I don’t know if I’m cut out for this,” you told him, your voice cracking in the middle of your sentence. You shut your eyes, cutting off eye contact. You didn’t want to look at your boss after you basically just told him you can’t do your own job.
This is so embarrassing, you thought to yourself.
When you finally re-opened your eyes, Aaron was still watching you. He moved forward, crossing his arms and resting them on the table between the two of you. He was looking at you with what you almost would’ve called sympathy.
“You can do this,” he reassured you, making sure his voice couldn’t be heard by the rest of the team. “You wouldn’t be here if you couldn’t. It’ll get better.”
The sheer honesty in his voice caused unshed tears to form in your eyes. No one had given you the affirmation you so desperately needed in a long time – not even your ex, who often said more unkind things than kind.
“What if it doesn’t?” You asked, blinking hard to get rid of the tears that were threatening to fall.
“It will,” he said firmly, emphasizing his words. “Go home, rest, and come back for a new day tomorrow.” With that, he stood back up, straightened out the sleeves of his suit jacket, and looked at you one last time before walking back over to where he was originally sitting. “You did very well this week.”
Aaron said everything with so much sincerity that for the first time in a while, you felt a little bit better.
—
Two.
You didn’t end up quitting.
It had been a little over a month since you almost quit your job after the first week. Things still weren’t perfect, but you had gotten more used to being a profiler and had gotten to the point where going to work didn’t feel like such a chore.
You were now in a small North Dakota town on a case. It was the second week of December, and the heat was out at the inn you were staying at, which all of you had, unfortunately, found out when arriving back from the police department.
“I probably know the answer to this, but is there any way we could go somewhere else?” JJ asked as she stood by the door. “It’s freezing, Hotch.”
“Actually, in order for it to be freezing, it would need to be–”
“Reid, not now,” Derek cut him off.
Aaron looked up from the folder he was reading. “We can’t go anywhere else. This is the only place to stay in town, and it’s the only place that was approved and booked.”
“They said they will probably have it going again in under an hour. Maintenance is working on it now,” Rossi announced as he entered the room, stepping past JJ. “They apologized for the inconvenience.”
It was eleven at night, and everyone was in clothes they were sleeping in except for Aaron who still wore his suit, minus the tie and jacket. You didn’t know how he wasn’t freezing in only his white dress shirt. The rooms at the inn were relatively tiny, but the team had all managed to cram into Aaron’s room, who got one to himself this time. They’d all flocked to his room in an attempt to figure out if staying somewhere else was possible, except for you, who had already been there.
You were sitting on the couch in the room next to Aaron as you attempted to help him figure out how this particular unsub was kidnapping his victims. The couch was particularly small, leaving no room between you and him. The entire side of your thigh was pressed against his, warmth radiating off of him despite the cold room.
Aaron sighed, laying down the folder and running a hand across his temple. “I’m sorry, but it’s out of my hands. Everyone, go back to bed. Hopefully the heat will be back on soon.”
“You coming?” Emily, your roommate for the duration of time you would be in North Dakota, asked as everyone filed out of the room.
You shook your head. “I’ll be there soon. I’m going to look over this one last time and see if there’s anything I missed.”
Emily told the both of you goodnight and left the room, leaving only you and Aaron still sitting together.
He made you very nervous.
Aaron was older, extremely accomplished, more experienced in the job, and working with him alone was nerve-wracking. You’d proven yourself immensely in the short amount of time you had been a member of the BAU. Still – he was wonderful at everything. The idea of being wrong around him was terrifying.
As you continued to look through everything laid out in front of you, you couldn’t focus. It was so cold to the point where you couldn’t feel the tip of your nose anymore, and you were slightly shivering, crossing your arms in an attempt to warm up a little.
“Looks like I should’ve brought a winter coat to sleep in,” you attempted to joke.
The left corner of Aaron’s mouth tipped upward as he stood up and moved to the small closet. “It is pretty cold, isn’t it?”
Before you knew it, there was a brown blanket being draped across your shoulders.
It wasn’t very thick nor was it very comfortable. In fact, it felt a little scratchy to the touch as it brushed over your bare hands, but Aaron situated it until it was entirely wrapped around you while his body hovered over yours. You stopped breathing momentarily, your heart picking up its pace every time his hands scraped over your own arms. Even through your thick sweatshirt and the blanket, you could still feel his touch.
“Thanks,” you muttered. Your heart rate had gone back down to normal now that he was moving to sit again.
“I can’t have one of my agents going hypothermic,” he joked and gave you one of his rare smiles; the ones that were usually reserved for outside of work.
You weren’t blind – Aaron Hotchner was a gorgeous man, and you wouldn’t deny that just the scent of his very expensive cologne alone was enough to make you feel slightly dizzy.
However, that's all you thought. He was your boss, and you were dealing with a breakup that was still laying heavy on your heart and constantly consumed your thoughts.
But even after the heat started working only half an hour later, you didn’t remove the blanket and temporarily forgot about the person who broke your heart while you worked next to him.
—
Three.
It was six months into your job when you found yourself having one of the worst days ever.
You’d woken up late and to a text from a friend letting you know that the ex you’d been getting over for half a year was now social-media-official with the person they told you not to worry about, you spilled coffee all over your car and your white top resulting in you being even later for work as you had to go back to your apartment and change.
You were a stumbling mess when you finally made it to the conference room for the meeting that you were six minutes late for. All eyes were focused on you as you mumbled apologies and sat down while trying to listen to Aaron’s voice. It was some housekeeping things and maybe you should’ve listened, but your head was elsewhere.
The rest of the day did not go well either. Halfway through the day, you had managed to screw up the fax machine, trip over your own shoes, and give yourself not one but two paper cuts. All of it sounded like minor things – a paper cut shouldn’t have set you off so badly, but it really did.
By the end of the day, you wouldn’t have minded if the ground opened up and swallowed you whole. Once you did one more thing, you would finally be able to go home.
“Come in.”
Aaron’s office was a place that you had grown to not fear so much. In the beginning of your job, every time you had to go in, it almost felt like you were in middle school walking into the principal’s office as he sat there at his desk with a stoic stare and hardly any emotion in his voice.
“I got your email about needing to speak with me,” you told him, coming inside and shutting the door behind you. “What did you need?”
He looked up at you as you moved closer to his desk. “I just wanted to know if you were okay.”
You frowned. “I thought you said in the email that you needed to speak with me about something important?”
Aaron nodded as if it was no big deal. “You’ve been acting off all day. How you feel is an important thing – even if you think it isn’t. So, are you okay?”
Your heart broke at his kindness. He was always nice to you, maybe nicer than he should’ve been, but calling you into his office just to make sure you were okay after a bad day made you wonder why no one else had ever cared about your feelings like this.
“I’m okay,” you told him. “It’s just been a terrible day.”
Still sitting at his desk with his full attention on you, Aaron asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”
You wouldn't lie – you did think about his proposal for a moment. There weren't many people for you to talk to. You had friends, but not many in Quantico other than your co-workers. You’d moved alone without knowing anyone, and you worked so much that there was rarely time for you to go out and meet new people.
But Aaron was a busy man. He was probably just offering to be polite – there was no way he cared that much to hear about your miniscule problems when his job was as hectic and busy as it was.
“No, Hotch, I don’t want to keep you here any longer–”
He cut you off. “I’m already here; it doesn’t matter. You can talk to me. I’ve been rather concerned about you.”
At that moment, you couldn’t come up with an excuse as to why the idea of him thinking about you was enough to make your heart flutter.
“It’s… it’s stupid,” you started, taking a seat in the chair in front of his desk. “I had a bad breakup right before I moved to Quantico. My ex didn't really care when I went to the Academy, but they exploded when I told them how I finally got this job. It was constant fighting before they gave me an ultimatum: them or taking the job.”
“And you chose the job?”
You laughed, feeling a little pathetic. “No, at first, I didn’t. They really got it stuck in my head that I wasn’t good enough to do this. I was going to turn it down and stay, but I changed my mind last minute. I found out this morning they’re now with someone else. Then, I was late, I fucked up the fax machine, and I got a couple paper cuts. It’s nothing, really – it was just a bad day.”
Aaron moved around in his seat, leaning back a little and crossing his arms. “It isn’t nothing if it bothers you.”
“I didn’t know you were a therapist,” you tried to joke, squirming awkwardly in your seat. You were already feeling vulnerable and the way he was looking at you wasn’t helping.
“Only part-time,” he said. “Don’t tell anyone – someone may think I have emotions.”
His face was completely stoic when he said it, but as soon as you started to laugh, he joined in.
“Really, though, I’m okay – just exhausted. I think the universe just hates me right now.” You stood up to leave. “I want to beat the rush hour traffic, so I should head out, but thanks for checking on me.”
He nodded in acknowledgement and you were on your way out while thinking the interaction was over, when he called out your name.
You stopped, hand still grasping the door you were about to open. “Yeah?”
“It’s their loss.”
A frown appeared on your face. “What do you mean?”
“Your ex,” he explained. “You shouldn’t lose sleep over someone who doesn’t know how lovely you are.”
Lovely.
You’d been called a lot of things in your life, probably even some adjectives better than lovely, but the way it just rolled out of Aaron’s mouth as if it was a casual, every-day-like occurrence made you feel warm.
Aaron Hotchner thought you were lovely and knowing that kept a smile on your face for days after while the wounds that had been given to you by someone else slowly healed.
—
Four.
After a year of working with the BAU, you ended up with your first unsub-related injury.
You thought going to the hospital was pointless because you truly felt fine, but both Derek and JJ argued relentlessly for you to go due to the nasty gash on your head. Unfortunately, you were outnumbered and sent to the hospital for an evaluation after the unsub you were after thought it was okay to slam you on the ground a little too hard, resulting in a blow to your head when you went down and hit the concrete.
JJ rode with you to the hospital in the ambulance that you, very much, did not think was necessary. After seeing a doctor, it was determined that you had a concussion. With a thick bandage on your wound and a drive home from JJ who gave you strict rules on taking care of yourself while you healed like the mother she was, you were finally alone in the comfort of your apartment after a long day spent in Manassas – the location of the latest case.
Now that the adrenaline had worn off, you were starting to feel the symptoms and the sound of knocking on your door felt like nails being drilled into your head.
However, the person standing on the other side when you opened the door made your head spin faster than the concussion did.
Aaron was standing on the other side of the door, one hand holding a brown paper bag with a look of worry on his face. He was dressed casually in a navy blue sweatshirt and jeans, nose slightly red from where he had walked through the cold November air to get inside your apartment building.
In other words, he looked very good. It was hard to not grab and kiss him.
You’d developed somewhat of an attraction for your boss since that fateful day in his office. Not that you hadn’t been attracted to him before, but it now felt more like a serious affection and not some small crush – the first time you felt this way about anyone in a long time.
“Hi,” he said, shifting his weight from one foot to another upon seeing you. “How are you?” He paused after his eyes glanced at the very obvious bandage on your forehead. “Wait, I don’t think that’s an appropriate question right now. I’m sorry.”
You giggled despite the throbbing in your temple, moving to let him into your apartment. “I’m as good as I can be right now. Come on in.”
He walked into your apartment, following you into the kitchen after you shut the door and locked it. Aaron had only been to your apartment once after giving you a ride home from work, but this was the first time he’d ever been inside.
“Shouldn’t you be resting?” He asked while you got a glass of water.
You nodded slightly, careful to cause any more pain. “Probably, but I can’t get any rest until my medicine kicks in and my head doesn’t feel like it’s about to bust.”
Aaron winced. “I tried to come to the hospital, but JJ had already taken you home by the time I got there, so I came here. I apologize for coming unannounced and so late, but I had to make sure you were okay.”
“You do that a lot,” you told him, leaning against one of the counters in the kitchen. “Making sure I’m okay.”
“I happen to care about you a lot.”
Hiding your smile behind the glass of water, you took a sip before focusing your attention back on the bag he brought with him. “What’s in the bag?”
It seemed as though he had forgotten he was still holding something. He raised it up and held it out to you, an almost-shy look dancing across his face that you’d never seen before on him. “I, um, made a stop at the store for you on my way over. It’s just over-the-counter medicine, extra bandages, and a couple snacks that I know you like. I figured it might help you out since you can’t drive for the next two days.”
You couldn’t stop the grin that appeared on your face. It was almost as if every time you thought Aaron couldn’t get any more perfect, he would prove you wrong.
He continued as he sat the bag down on the counter next to you. “I also wanted to tell you that Strauss said take all the time you need to recover.”
You gave him a quizzical look. “She did?”
There was only silence between the two of you as you looked at each other until he shrugged. “Well, I told her that you’re going to be taking all the time off that you need, and she didn’t really say anything so take all the time you need.”
“It’s just a concussion,” you told him. “I’ll be back to work soon.”
“A concussion is a serious thing,” Aaron said with a frown, not liking the way you brushed the injury off as nothing. “I’m glad you’re okay. Morgan said you hit the ground pretty hard before he cuffed the guy.”
You took another sip of your water before sitting it down. “I’m alive and well – Derek was just worried.”
As much as you were enjoying the feeling of talking with Aaron in your kitchen, the heaviness you felt in your eyes reminded you that it was nearly midnight, and you’d had a long day. The yawn that escaped your mouth didn’t go unnoticed.
“I should go and let you get some rest.”
You really didn’t want him to go. There weren't many other opportunities where you would get Aaron in your apartment like this. It felt oddly domestic, and you hated the fact that you loved it so much. But he was right – you did need the rest.
“Thank you again for stopping by,” you told him as the two of you walked the short distance back to the front door. “And for all the stuff you bought. You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to,” he said, his hand lingering on the door knob. “If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to call.”
He was opening the door before you called out, “Wait,” your mind flooded with déjà vu from the time he stopped you on your way out of his office.
Aaron paused and turned to look back at you. His body hadn’t left the room yet, but the door was slightly ajar where he opened it.
Before you could talk yourself out of it, you walked over to him and threw your arms around his broad torso engulfed in the softest sweatshirt you’d ever felt.
“Thank you,” you softly said. “Not just for tonight, but for, well, just caring about me.”
He didn’t waste a second reciprocating the hug as he wrapped his arms around you even tighter, careful not to get near the bandage on your forehead and further hurt you. He was like a human heater – warm, tall, and you fit perfectly against him.
One hug from Aaron was like a band-aid healing any problem you had – even the external ones. Maybe this was what the placebo effect felt like and if this was it, you wanted it over and over again.
“Of course,” he muttered, arms still locked around you as if he needed this more than you did.
When you finally parted, his cheeks were dusted with a slight red shade as he wore one of his grins that you’d grown to love and receive more often. “Goodnight.”
Even though you had a raging headache and a painful cut on your temple, it had nothing on the big smile you kept on your face even as you drifted off into sleep that night still feeling warm and giddy.
—
Five.
It had been almost two months since you hugged Aaron in your apartment.
Since that night, something changed in the relationship between the two of you. You couldn’t really place your finger on what had changed, but there was a shift. Tension was thick – not in a bad way but in a way where you wanted to grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull him to you any time you were alone.
You also had the feeling that he felt the same way. Aaron had been a profiler for many more years than you had been, but you liked to think you were good at your job. You could read him and from the way his eyes watched you, you could tell he was feeling the same tension in the air.
It was New Year’s Eve, and David Rossi had, after a lot of pleading from Penelope, agreed to host a small get-together for the team plus family including Will, Henry, and Jack – the latter two were currently running around the, very expensive, house, which was driving Dave insane as kept watch to make sure nothing got damaged due to the kids.
You were standing outside in the backyard, the late-December air hitting your face as you glanced down at your phone that told you it was almost midnight.
When you thought back to who you were around this time last year – a woman in a new city with a demanding job and hardly any friends, still crying yourself to sleep over someone who didn’t deserve your tears – it made you want to smile.
It had been a little over a year since you started working at the BAU and as you glanced inside through the large glass doors, you felt like you belonged. There was no more doubt, no more tears, and no more days where you wanted to run away.
“What are you doing out here? You’ll freeze to death.” You turned around to find Aaron closing one of the glass doors and moving towards you.
He was wearing a black quarter zip and jeans – a casual outfit but one of your favorites. For reasons that you couldn’t understand, Aaron Hotchner in a quarter zip made you feel things.
“I came out here because it’s cold,” you told Aaron, leaning against a railing and crossing your sweater-covered arms. “It’s so hot and stuffy in there. It’s like Rossi is trying to burn us all alive.”
Aaron laughed and walked over next to you. He leaned against the railing, his arm brushing against yours. “He does keep his house pretty hot.”
“Is Jack having a good time?”
Jack Hotchner was probably your favorite kid you’d ever met. He was a total sweetheart, and you instantly got along with him from the first day you met him.
You didn’t miss the way Aaron’s face lit up a little as you mentioned his son. “Yes, I think so. He’s a big fan of celebrating the New Year because he gets to stay up late.” You then watched his face fall a bit. “He’s been missing his mom a lot lately, so coming here tonight – it’s good for him.”
You knew of Aaron’s ex-wife who had died before you joined the team, and you knew the terrible way that it happened. You’d also heard that it greatly affected Jack and Aaron, even though he hid it more than he should’ve.
“It must be hard on him, but I’m glad he’s having a good time tonight.”
Aaron smiled. “He loves the team, but I think you’re his favorite.”
You grinned. “No way! I’m honored.”
A comfortable silence grew between the two of you with no sounds other than distinct chatter and laughs from inside of the house. You glanced over to Aaron who was pulling out his phone.
“Eleven fifty-eight,” he said. “You want to head back inside and watch the ball drop?”
You almost said yes at first because you actually did want to see the ball drop, but you also wanted a moment alone with Aaron considering you rarely got them in a setting outside of work. Maybe you were being selfish, but you didn’t care – a few more minutes with him wouldn’t hurt. “I think I’m going to stay out here.”
He didn’t say anything. Aaron kept his phone out so the two of you could keep an eye on the clock app, its tiny, orange hand moving around the twelve, now signalizing that it was eleven fifty-nine.
Your eyes kept watch on the clock as it got closer to passing twelve again. You were starting to get nervous. A part of you expected Aaron to go inside after you told him you weren’t going back in – it wasn’t like he was obligated to stay out in the cold with you.
However, he never went back inside and as the clock kept getting closer to midnight, only seconds away now, you wondered if he was thinking the same thing you were: the traditional New Year’s kiss.
You discretely searched for any sign on his face that gave away if he was going to kiss you or not. You so desperately wanted it but if he wasn’t thinking the same thing, there was no way you were going to embarrass yourself by trying to kiss him.
Ten.
Still no sign – you were starting to panic a little.
Nine.
What were you supposed to do?
Eight.
Would he rather have a handshake? He did have a pretty firm grip.
Seven.
No, screw a handshake. Who gives someone a handshake at midnight on New Year’s?
Six.
He put down his phone and was starting to turn toward you.
Five.
Was he actually going to kiss you?
Four.
“Forgive me if I’m reading this wrong, but can I kiss you?”
Three.
You couldn’t form words, only a nod, eyes slightly widened.
Two.
He was moving his hand up to your cheek and, oh dear, this was actually going to happen.
One.
Aaron’s lips were warm against yours, and you weren’t sure if you’d ever been kissed with so much delicacy. He was gentle and respectful. Your hands pressed against his chest before you finally moved them up to the nape of his neck under the collar of the quarter zip you loved so much, pulling him even closer to you.
You felt secure and safe pressed up tightly against him with one hand of his cupping your jaw as the other rested firmly on your lower back. Your mouth was opening up before you could even stop it. Aaron smiled against your lips as he felt it before he deepened the kiss.
This time, he was kissing you much more firmly and with the feeling of his tongue moving against yours, you couldn’t remember the last time, or if ever, you felt the way you did. His hand pressed even harder against your back, making you inhale sharply during the kiss.
There was a time in your life when you thought you would never find someone else – that maybe you were destined to be alone all because of one person who didn’t see your worth, but Aaron made all the pain go away to the point where you hadn’t thought of the person who hurt you in months.
Aaron made you feel like you were floating all the time. He reminded you of your worth instead of breaking you down. He was a man who did both the small things like throwing a blanket around your cold body and the big things like bringing you snacks and medicine after a hit to the head – the definition of “if he wanted to, he would” in the best way possible.
“Hey! You guys missed the – holy shit!”
You flung yourself off Aaron and looked behind him to see Emily standing there, her mouth wide open. You’d never seen her utterly speechless like she was at the moment. She opened and closed her mouth for a moment, glancing back and forth between the two of you before she finally found something to say.
“Morgan and Reid owe me fifty bucks.”
—
(+) One.
It was three months into Aaron Hotchner’s relationship with you when he knew with absolute certainty that he loved you.
His job was difficult, and today was no different but instead of shaking it off before going home, he couldn’t help but feel a cloud of emotion follow him all the way back home to his apartment.
He knew that you were waiting on him because the two of you were supposed to have dinner. You’d gotten to leave at a reasonable time and not, he glanced down at his watch, at nine at night. Aaron had a lot of duties and responsibilities as Unit Chief, but he sometimes wished he didn’t in order to come home at a normal hour.
Aaron saw you sitting on his couch as soon as he unlocked and opened his front door. You smiled sweetly as you looked over at him, no trace of frustration or anger at how late he was getting home.
“Everything go okay with those reports? I know Strauss was giving you a hard time,” You said as you glanced back down at your phone you were holding. When he didn’t answer, he saw you look back up at him again but this time with a frown on your face.
He knew the look he had on his face was giving him away, but he just couldn’t force himself to not feel the way that he was feeling.
You put your phone down on the coffee table and stood up to move in front of him. “Are you okay?”
“That’s usually my line to you,” he attempted a joke, but it never reached his eyes.
You responded with a half-smile. “Bad evening?”
Aaron nodded, not saying anything further. You moved closer as you wrapped your arms around his torso, hugging him tightly. “I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry, honey,” he said, instantly feeling a little better just from your touch. “I missed dinner. I’m not the one who should be upset.”
You pulled back and rested both hands on each side of his face as he kept his situated on your waist. “Someone told me once that how you feel is an important thing even if you think it isn’t.”
He chuckled a bit. “Using my own words against me, huh?”
You cracked a smile. “It’s okay that you missed dinner. I know you had a rough and busy evening. Don’t worry about me. We can have dinner another night – it’s not a big deal that you couldn’t make it.”
You were looking at him so sincerely and touching him with so much care that he couldn’t help but pull you back in again, eyes closing at the feeling of another hug from you.
“Let’s go to bed,” you mumbled to him. “You look like you could go for an early night.”
Aaron wasn’t sure what he did to deserve someone as good as you – someone who cared for him even on days when he didn’t care for himself. You were kind, understanding, and patient. Sometimes he couldn’t even believe he was lucky enough to be with someone like you.
So while he wasn’t sure of how deserving he really was, he was one hundred percent sure of the fact that he loved you and your lovely self.
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner x you#hotch x reader#aaron hotchner one shot#hotch x y/n#aaron hotchner
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𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!sorcerer!reader, they’re both still in jjhigh, geto involvement, revenge / blackmail mention, pet play, sex toys, gojo is meanie, degradation, all characters featured are aged 18+
𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3
𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯 ∣ day fourteen [ gojo satoru + pet play ] // one of three very special pieces dedicated to very special people! this one is for @arabaka 💚 love love you jackie!!
if you would’ve known Satoru had a pet play kink, you never would have agreed to this stupid bet. hell, you knew before you agreed that you probably going to lose, but you couldn’t help but at least try to knock his arrogant ass down a peg or two. still, even though your failure was almost guaranteed, you never thought the penalty would be so… humiliating.
“G—gonna get me… exprrrled—“ it was difficult to talk, because every time you tried to form words, no matter how muffled or distorted they were, you drooled around the bone-shaped silicone gag strapped tight between your teeth.
your eyelids fluttered when he tugs on the leash, tightening the chain-collar around your throat and bringing your attention up to where he sat, sprawled in his desk. his long legs outstretched. “Only if you get caught.” Gojo chuckles as he says this, giving your collar another rough tug. “Now, look cute and obedient for the cameras, pup.”
a handful of flashes went off at once as your classmates encircled you, capturing this incredibly humiliating moment in snapshots to no doubt blackmail you with later. Geto seems particularly amused by seeing you on the floor on your knees, drooling in little but your panties and a leash. he snapped picture after picture, getting one from every angle, as Gojo uses his grip on your lead to make you pose. you thought maybe it was because when he had tried to kiss you last year, you’d gut-punched him.
maybe Gojo had been plotting this sort of revenge against you since you rejected his best friend. or, maybe he was just this deranged.
your eyes watered.
it wasn’t because of the flashes or even the choker, but the relentless, humming vibe stuffed in your panties. the battery chamber juts out in a tent of wet fabric, keeping the phallic dildo jammed and rotating in your clenching canal, and the flickering bunny ears teasing your clit until your eyes crossed, and your cunt started to dribble juices on the floor beneath where you sat. “I wonder how many times my bitch has cum already.” Gojo snickered, mischievous as he pushes at your back with the toe of his shoe, forcing you on all fours instead of your knees. you slurred out a moan, thighs trembling, and press your chest to the floor, reluctantly obedient for him. “Enough to ruin her panties and make a mess of this floor. Aren’t you embarrassed, puppy? To be so messy and needy?”
you nod, but you get the feeling he doesn’t really care if you are.
“S-srrrtorruuu…” you groan, eyes rolling back when he leans forward and grabs the base of the toy, jiggling it tauntingly through your panties. “N-nrrr mrrr…”
“Hmm? What’s that, puppy?” he teases, leaning closer still, as if trying to decipher what you’re saying. you look up at him weakly, spit and tears mixing on the floor beneath your chin, and repeat the plea for this humiliating moment to end. but he beams with delight, and gives your ass a swat. “Sounds like you want something. Well, you know what good puppies do, don’t you? They beg. Go on, be a good, slutty pup and nuzzle me, beg for your treats and I might just let our friends get some nice shots of you bent over the desk, taking my cock and your favorite toy in your greedy hole.” as he says this, he runs his hand along your face instead, and much to your own surprise, you do just what he asks. you tried to tell yourself it was out of the hope that if you did what he wanted, he’d go easy on you, but the truth was much more depraved than that. you were starting to like being his little bitch. rubbing your wet cheek against his palm, you mewl and bat your eyelashes.
“P-pleasseee… gov mrrr treats!”
#gojo#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojou satoru x reader#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut#jujutsu gojo#gojo satoru x you#gojo x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk#jujutsu kaisen
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you're weak.
958 words
˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ
6:43 PM.
“we’re still on tonight right?”
“sorry. can’t.”
“why???”
“hello…?”
you huffed at the message, why is he not responding? it's not like he has some teen boy shit to do. opening your phone once again, you dialed geto. “yo it’s geto, leave a message after the beep.” you sighed, “you guys didn’t abandon me right..?” you whispered after the beep, then hung up and laid on your bed.
NEXT DAY - 7:56 AM.
“morning guys!” you smiled happily at the duo, bringing your hand up to give gojo a high-five, like you always do. “oh uh, not right now y/n, we have class.” gojo shuffled away from your presence. you froze. “o-okay.” you gave him a weak smile, and turned around to walk to your class. as you walked away, you saw from the corner of your eye that geto was whispering something to gojo. damn, where is shoko?
4:12 PM
“here.” shoko handed you a drink as you were sitting on the stairs of jujutsu high. you looked up, shoko had a cig in her mouth as you grabbed the sparkling soda from her hand. “thanks.” you mumbled. you both sat there in silence, waiting for someone to say something. “seems like they’re ignoring you.” shoko said, finally breaking the silence. “where were you shoko?” you asked, opening the soda can. “had a bunch of tests for medical school, passed with flying marks.” shoko smiled as she made a peace sign next to her face. “hah, really? you definitely cheated.” you giggled, letting out a breathy laugh. “i’m…going to go to medical school now, so i’ll be absent more.” shoko said, taking a breath from her cig. “oh…okay.” you said quietly, looking down. shit. now what are you going to do? you wished you were in a normal highschool, with a normal amount of kids, so there's not only just four people in your grade. you don’t even have anyone to hang out with now, no one to talk to. even the first years shunned you. haibara said he had bad feelings from you, and nanami is just not talkative and listens to haibara. utahime didn’t like you either, and mei mei is only interested in getting money, which you had none of. stupid fucking curse. your cursed technique always scared people, you had sharp fangs and always had a pale look on you. you looked like you were cosplaying as a vampire to normal human beings. everyone hated you because you were scary to look at.
FEW MONTHS LATER - 11:30 AM - THREE SECOND YEAR STUDENTS SENT TO TAKE CARE OF A SPECIAL GRADE CURSE; ONE SEVERELY INJURED.
“you’re so fucking stupid! can’t even do one thing right when we asked you to! this doesn’t make sense at all, you are a special grade sorcerer!” gojo yelled at you, you have never seen him this mad before. “sa-” you said, before getting cut off by gojo. “don’t call me satoru. it’s gojo to you.” he spat out, looking at you without his glasses, which had long been gone since the fight with the curse. “g-gojo, we still managed to kill the curse, and shoko can use rct on geto!” you tried reasoning with satoru. indeed, it was your fault that you made a small mistake on the mission, but gojo couldn’t be blaming the whole thing on you right? geto can survive this, the doctor’s said it too. you don’t get why gojo is so upset about this whole ordeal. gojo groaned loudly, “y/n this is why you can’t do shit. i’m going to talk to yaga about not having any missions with you anymore, you can go on missions by yourself. you’re a special grade anyway.” gojo rolled his eyes as he started to walk back into geto’s room. you sat there, letting all the words sink in. just one more year, one more year with them and you can finally leave.
2 MONTHS LATER - 9:23 PM
“y/n! are you okay? where does it hurt?” shoko ran to you, “you’re so stupid, why did you go alone on this mission?” shoko was panicking, already trying to heal you after you called her when you were on the brink of death. “uhm…i…” your eyes were blurry, looking around and spotted two males. you could see the anger in gojo’s eyes and the horror in geto’s face. “did you exorcise the curse?” geto asked calmly. shit..you forgot geto needed the curse to eat. “no..” you looked away from him. “oh my god y/n!” gojo groaned and put his hand on his head. “the best thing you could’ve done for us was to trap the curse and wait for us to get here! but now we lost a special grade for geto to absorb.” gojo was clearly irritated. “b-but the curse could’ve killed me! how could you say that?” you cried, thinking about how unreasonable gojo could be. “you’re a special grade and still can’t seem to carry out a simple task, you’re weak.” gojo said with venom, making your heart hurt. “she did her best gojo.” shoko tried to reason with him, still healing your wounds, “and that was good enough.”
the next day, your wounds were all healed, and your mind was clear.
“y/n, you sure about moving to kyoto?” - geto
“yea.”
“alright, we’ll miss you.”
like hell they would, you thought to yourself. they wouldn’t understand no matter how much you explained to them your feelings. especially gojo, he was born as the strongest, the whole world power balanced after he was born. you could never compare to someone like him.
get stronger.
the words rang through your head.
get stronger.
and you will.
(honestly this did not turn out the way i wanted it, might get a rework.)
#angst#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#geto x reader#geto suguru x reader#shoko x reader#shoko ieiri x reader#jujustu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo x reader angst#geto x reader angst#shoko x reader angst#jujutsu kaisen x reader angst#fanfic#sad#writing is hard#weak
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and i'd come back if you'd just call
author's note: soulmate au + apocalypse
summary: you show up in jackson and turn joel's life upside down
warnings: implied smut and handsy touching
word count: 2.7k
There’s gray in his hair. He’s sure he should feel grateful for that–especially now–and some part of him does, he supposes.
He has people.
There’s Ellie and Tommy and Maria. You.
He’s not sure exactly what to do about you.
Besides, he’s more concerned about the ache in his back and the knots in his muscles–much more important problems than the love he’s beginning to think he still feels for you or the sunflower burning on his wrist.
There’s heating pads for his muscles and pain pills for his back–concrete solutions.
You, on the other hand, you’re young and fun and something he can’t quite get his fingers around.
And, you had left him–a fact he can’t quite forget. No matter how much he’d like to.
His throat is sore, scratchy in the way that tells him he spent last night snoring. Sighing as he sits up in bed, he cracks one shoulder and then the other.
His feet don’t want to find the floor. His body doesn’t want to hide behind the curtains in his own home because he can never be sure if you can see him.
Tommy thought he was so funny, making you two neighbors.
Joel does turn, eventually, let his feet land on the too cold floor. Toes slip into slippers he’d left in reach when he’d gotten into bed last night. He reaches blindly for the faded flannel robe that’s draped over the chair in the corner of his room.
He hasn’t had time for such indulgences, too busy running–from life, monsters. Anything. Before, he simply hadn’t wanted them.
But, Ellie had presented them both–a set, though the patterns didn’t match at all–as a gift and he hadn’t been able to say no.
He’s tired of being so sharp, so tough. In his own home, at least, maybe he can rest.
Home.
The thought brings his mind back to you, against his will, and as he pours his coffee he tries to see if your lights are on.
He can’t tell. The sun is working against him. He resolves himself to the fact that he’ll run into you at some point in town, so, really, what does it matter if you see each other sooner rather than later?
Besides, he’s almost positive you aren’t sitting in windowsills, pining after him.
He sits in the recliner Tommy had insisted he just had to have and welcomes the ability to put his feet up. It’s a relic–a handle raises and lowers the foot rest–but, somehow, it still works.
Taking a drink of his coffee, he thinks.
There’s no sound in the house, something Joel still hasn’t gotten used to since Ellie moved out.
I’m 20, she had said when Joel had asked if she was sure she wanted to leave, as if that was an explanation. Besides, don’t you want your own space?
He didn’t, if she wanted to know the truth. He wanted to hear her downstairs cooking breakfast or the sound of her snoring through the crack in her bedroom door.
He knew why she had gone, though. It was the same reason he had left home the moment he turned 18.
Freedom.
So, he could understand it, even if he wasn’t entirely fond of it.
He sees her every few days anyway.
Coffee now gone, he knows his day has to start, even if the town now feels like a loaded gun is waiting around every corner. He dresses–a flannel still happily coasting between cozy and too threadbare and jeans. He cracks his front door, feels the bite of the winter wind, and shuts it firmly.
An extra jacket wouldn’t hurt.
x
“I’m telling you,” Joel mumbles, “she probably doesn’t even remember.”
Tommy quirks a brow. “Are you kidding?” Shaking his head, he laughs. “You spent the better half of a year together. The tattoos–”
“I don’t wanna talk about the tattoos,” Joel dismisses. “Besides,” he mutters, “it was eleven months.”
“Oh,” Tommy hums. “My mistake.”
Silence and then, “You know someone will notice, right?”
Joel tilts his head. “You see me wearing a lot of short sleeves in the winter?”
“You can’t use the weather to hide forever, bro. The minute Ellie–hell, anybody–notices the two identical sunflowers on your arms?” He shakes his head. “Secrets out.”
“Yeah?” Joel asks. “What secret is that?”
His little brother leans in, whispers, “You can still find your soulmate after the apocalypse.”
“She’s the one that left.” Joel sighs. “Obviously, she didn’t care that we were soulmates.”
“You don’t even know why she left!” Tommy exclaims, exasperated.
Joel quirks a brow. “Somehow I haven’t had a lot of time, what with the apocalypse and all.”
His brother claps him on the shoulder. “You’ve got nothing but time now.”
x
Joel walks the streets of Jackson, spitting snow beginning to fall around him.
Maybe Tommy is right. It’s not like Joel doesn’t have some extra time on his hands, a strange concept after the last twenty years, he has to admit.
Maybe he should take advantage of it.
It’s that thought that’s rattling around in his brain when he collides with someone else.
“Sorry!” He reaches out, blindly, tries to catch the person or their belongings–something. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” a voice says. It’s a voice he’s never forgotten–couldn’t forget, even if he wanted to–and he kicks himself that this is the way he’d run into you again.
Literally.
“It was really,” you stand, catch sight of his face for the first time, “my fault.”
He’s older now, grayer and a little softer around the edges, but, still, he can see the moment recognition lights on your features.
“Joel?”
He nods, suddenly sheepish. For once, his mind is completely blank. It can’t begin to come up with an adequate greeting for an old flame that, maybe, still burns somewhere behind his rib cage. He settles on an all too casual, “Hi.”
You smile, a soft thing. “Hi.”
On instinct it seems, you take a step closer and hug him. Though it’s been years, the feeling of you pressed against him, your arms around him, it’s familiar.
He wants to hate it, but he doesn’t. Not even a little.
He barely resists the urge to press a kiss to your forehead, take a minute to inhale your scent, before you pull away.
“S’nice to see you.”
Joel nods. “You, too.” Somewhere between the truth and a lie.
“Your hair, it’s…softer,” you murmur.
“Yeah?” Joel reaches up, runs an idle hand through it. “Haven’t had a lot of time for haircuts, I guess.” He shrugs. “I kinda got used to it.”
You nod. “It’s been a long time.”
Joel quirks a brow. “Whose fault was that?”
It’s too sharp, too biting, and he can see the results flash across your face.
Shaking your head, you glare at him, blow out a breath. “I should have known you hadn’t changed.”
You turn on your heel, away from him, and he wants to reach out, tell you he’s sorry, but something won’t let him.
He thinks it’s his heart.
“I’ve changed plenty!” He calls after your shrinking form. “Changed enough to know I should stay away from you.”
You look over your shoulder–just for a second–long enough to cut him to the core. “The feeling is mutual!”
He sighs and continues on his own path, towards his own lonely house, entirely too close to you for comfort.
x
“So.” Ellie sighs. “That went well.”
Joel chuckles, rolls his eyes. “You think?”
“We can fix it,” she says, sitting on the couch closest to him. “It’ll be fine.”
“Sure about that?,” he asks. “It’s not a leaky sink, you know.”
Her eyes light up in the very particular way that tells Joel she’s had an idea he won’t be fond of.
He’s suddenly nervous.
“That’s it,” she exclaims.
“What’s it?”
Ellie leaves the room, obviously in search of something, and ignores him.
“Ellie,” he calls after her. “Ellie, what’s it?”
x
It’s her scheming that puts him on your porch, in fact, toolbox in hand and looking for something to fix.
Real or fake, it hadn’t really mattered to Ellie.
He should never have told her he had been a contractor.
The door opens and you glare at him, unsurprisingly.
“What do you want?”
He spits it out, before he can change his mind, run back home and hide.
“I’m sorry for earlier.” He shakes his head. “You left…before. And, I was angry and seeing you again…” He trails off, settles on simplicity. “I’m sorry.”
Something in your face softens as you step aside to let him in.
“I’m sorry for leaving, you know.”
You take him off guard, turn his pulse to a gallop.
“I was…I was afraid,” you murmur, skipping over his own apology in a way that’s entirely you.
Of course it’s the way you’d let him know things are okay.
“I should have told you that, though, instead of disappearing.”
He nods, swallows down a memory he doesn’t exactly want to relive right now, whispers, “It’s okay.”
You nod, smile at him. “You want a drink? Some food?”
He nods, places the toolbox in the floor next to your couch.
“That’d be nice.”
x
Joel isn’t sure how long the two of you have been talking–minutes or hours. Maybe days. Easy familiarity settles over the pair of you, and things are like they used to be.
He’s glad for it.
“Were there others?” Joel asks, words slipping out before he can stop them.
It’s the question that he somehow desperately wants the answer to and also never wants to hear.
You nod. “A few.” But, then, “None like you.”
It’s more honest than he expected, like your heart has opened to him once again.
You’re vulnerable. He knows you hate that.
“That makes sense.” He nods, rising to his feet, hand curling around the handle of his toolbox, imagining you want him to take his leave. “I’m pretty unforgettable.”
You laugh, look at him with something he would have called affection, once upon a time. “Yeah, you are, Miller.”
Something buzzes inside of him at the knowledge he can still make you laugh, even after everything, and he ducks his head, starts to head for the door.
“Joel?”
He turns, finds apprehension on your features.
He aches to set you at ease.
“Yeah?”
“Could you…would it…” You shake your head, shoulders squaring like you’re heading into a fight. “Would you want to stay? The night? With…with me.”
In a minute, he forgets it all. The pain and heartache and anger disappears with one look at your eyes.
“Yes.”
Simple–the way it’s always been between the two of you.
x
You crawl on top of him in a way he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t imagined over the years.
His hands find a resting place on either of your hips, squeeze the flesh there lightly.
“Hi,” you murmur, grin on your face.
“Hi.” He smiles.
It’s different when you’re with your soulmate.
Joel had been with others, sure.
Tess comes to mind, but he quickly shakes the thought away–along with the memory of her death.
But, every time, even when stars popped up behind his eyelids and warmth erupted through his every limb, it wasn’t what it had been with you.
The best way he could think to describe it was…more.
As you lean down, press a kiss to his lips, he finally admits to himself how much he’d missed it. You.
x
Joel feels you pull away and squeezes you closer. “Where you goin’?,” he mumbles, already half asleep.
“Shirt,” you whisper.
He shakes his head, nuzzles his nose into the hollow of your throat.
Chuckling softly, you say, “S’winter, Joel.”
He holds you even closer–if that’s possible. “I’ll keep you warm.” Then, just to tease, fingers dance over your hip bone, inches from the crux of your thighs. “Any way you want.”
“Joel…”
“Or, are you too old for this game?” He hums, getting a rise out of you too tempting to ignore. “You get soft on me while you were away?”
Your own hand–cold from it’s trip beyond the faded quilt that covers you both–dances along the soft skin of his stomach, curls around his still too sensitive length. He jumps, hisses out a breath, interest already simmering at the base of his spine.
“I can still play,” you purr. “Can you?”
Your hand works him over, languid strokes finding a pattern that makes his skin buzz.
Joel rises, mouth desperate to find yours.
He’s always liked to be kissed–especially by you, especially when you’re touching him the way you are.
You indulge him, lips parting to let his tongue tangle with your own. He can’t help but grin into the kiss.
x
In the morning, he wakes alone. Part of him isn’t shocked. Part of him is heartbroken all over again.
Quickly, he gets dressed–avoiding mirrors with the hopes of missing any evidence you’d left behind of the night before.
He goes to Tommy’s, doesn’t even look towards your house as he walks down the street.
x
“You’ve been in love before.” Tommy shrugs. “Maybe it could happen again. Nothing says you have to be with your soulmate.”
Joel hadn’t thought about it when he’d fallen in love with Sarah’s mother.
He hadn’t had much choice, if he’s honest. One look at her and he had been done for.
So, the fact she didn’t have a sunflower on the soft skin of her forearm wasn’t of much consequence. The fact she had her own tattoo–purple dahlia petals curling around her own wrist–had never mattered to her either.
They had shared a life and love and had turned that love into something that lived outside of them.
Sarah.
It was only a few months after she was born that Joel had woken up alone to the sound of Sarah’s crying.
He had adjusted, though. The two of them had made a team and found happiness all on their own.
Until…well, Joel didn’t really like to think about that day–that last day. He preferred to imagine her laughing, head thrown back in joy.
“I know,” he murmurs. He adds, almost under his breath, “I don’t think I want to fall in love. Not if it’s not with her.”
Tommy ducks his head, sheepish all of a sudden.
“What is it?”
“I promised I wouldn’t tell you.”
He leans forward, insistent. “Tommy, what is it?”
“She told Maria that she was…thinking of leaving Jackson.”
Joel is off Tommy’s couch and out the door before Tommy can ask where he’s going.
Joel suspects he knows.
x
His knocks are incessant, barely a pause between them.
“C’mon,” he murmurs to himself. “Please don’t be gone.”
The door opens, shocking Joel, and he almost falls through it.
“You can’t leave Jackson,” he pants. There’s an ache in his side, a pulling at muscles that scream with use more often than they don’t these days. He’s certain he shouldn’t have run to make sure he caught you.
You shake your head, hands coming to rest on either side of his face.
It’s a gesture full of affection and hope ignites in his gut.
“I’m not leaving,” you murmur.
Joel’s tongue is heavy, suddenly too thick to form a reply. “You…you’re not?”
“No.” Gently, your thumb rubs back and forth over his cheekbone. “I thought of something to stick around for.”
“Yeah?” Joel hums. “What’s that?”
“You.”
Joel feels the heat flush his cheeks. The emotions he really feels are too much–too real–so, he settles for a joke.
“That makes sense.” He nods. “I’m pretty unforgettable.”
“Yeah.” You laugh, duck your head for a minute before your eyes meet his again. “Yeah, you are, Miller.”
x
Later that night, with most of your closet mingled with his own, he pulls you close to him in bed. His lips ghost over your forehead and an arm wraps around your side.
He glances down at his wrist, takes in the bright yellows of the sunflower petals. With gentle fingers, he finds your wrist, brings it to his mouth and kisses the yellow of your own petals.
There’s gray in his hair, but, right now, he couldn’t feel more grateful for it.
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mafia!Mick Schumacher
Mick Schumacher x fem!reader
Gn is alright too!
Summary: Just few moments with Mafia!Mick Schumacher x fem!reader.
Warnings: sunburn, sassy reader, mentions of blood and dead body, fluff and teasing I guess? Not much of Mafia at all 💀
!english is not my first language so feel free to point out any mistakes or errors!
Also picture is not mine! Credit goes to owner!
Fem!reader would be working for him as his personal assistant. Fully knowing what he does for a living and her being alright with it because she gets paid well. She would be his right hand that always reminds him when he has an important meeting, bringing him drinks like tea or coffee when he doesn't go to sleep or when he's feeling cocky, he would tell her to choose the shirt she likes on him to just mess with her because he likes to see her face all red. You not wanting to look at him, feeling overwhelmed.
Mick would start to remove his black t-shirt and be like "Which one do you like more on me liebling?" All cocky with that pet name in German knowing it works on her. "The white button down shirt you ass." She would say not being scared at all, knowing that he would never hurt her for anything she says. Mick would just chuckle, throwing a smirk her way as she's leaving him to change his clothes. Feeling butterflies in stomach.
---
He would fall first, she would fall harder.
Fem!reader would be secretly loving Mick but being an ass to him because she's scared that if she opens to him, he would leave her, so it's better if she hurts him by saying all the mean things and acting like she doesn't care instead of her getting hurt, but it still be hurting her feelings.
But Mick knowing better, he would be so caring towards her, never forgetting her birthday and buying her a little cupcake with candle on it with colorful flowers that she loves, letting her borrow his jacket when it gets cold, giving anyone death stare the moment someone says anything disrespectful to her or just making her feel uncomfortable, always having an spare hair bands somewhere in his pocket or on his hand, like it's middle of the July and she was rushing to his office because for the first time she overslept in few years.
Coming to his office apologizing that she came later than usual, she would sit behind her desk that is opposite of his. Being all sweaty from the weather and forgetting her ice coffee on her way there she didn't have much luck.
Sanding from his desk and going right behind her, he would found one of the hair bands, taking strands of hair and began to make her a ponytail, "I can do it myself" she said as he gently, so as not to hurt her, he would run his hand through her soft hair that she washed before she went to bed last night.
"I know you can, but let me, '' Mick said as he adjusted the rubber band on her head, kissing the top of her head as she tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear that didn't want to stay in place. "Thank you Mick, you didn't have to " she said feeling all shy "You're welcome love."
---
Mick is definitely a pet name king. Teasing you at any given moment. Not having peace even at your home when you came from the bathroom freshly shower, you hear your phone buzz and saw Mick's photo on your screen, so you pick it up thinking none of it and he would just start blabbing some nonsense to annoy you. "You know liebling, I really enjoy the mean facade you're trying to make." He said chuckling and anyone who would hear Mick right now, wouldn't say that he belongs to the mafia at all.
"You're seriously like a man-child" you said, now all annoyed. "Don't you want to go for coffee sometime?" huh? You thought "Bye Mick, call me when you need something important." Hanging up, you have to slow your breathing as you hold your phone closer to your chest now all frustrated.
---
I think fem!reader wouldn't take him seriously at first. Just a pure assistant that does her job the best she can. Yes, time to time seeing a dead body, blood and everything like that, but she doesn't care enough for that. Sometimes she thinks he just wants to use her and then leave her. So she would be distant with him as much as possible those days.
He wouldn't like that. He can't be nothing but gentlemen around her. So he's always opening/holding doors for you. "After you liebling.”
And definitely would say some shit like "You're playing hard to get" whereupon you answered him "you're playing hard to get rid of". Both of you not meaning anything like that.
---
Fem!reader would always deny him from buying her expensive things, but him being Mick Schumacher will always buy you anything and I mean anything you want. He would take you on his yacht when he takes something like a holiday or 3 weeks off and said that you have it as free time. With him.
There would be so much pda. A lot of it. Mick will definitely sit next to you and will lay his hand on your thigh when you are eating breakfast/dinner or any other food. "Is it good?" Mick asked as he looked at you, your mouth full of fruits. "It's delicious," you said, smiling at him.
---
Fem!reader forgetting to put sunscreen and getting sunburn. "What did I tell you, hm?" Mick said with a bit of a disappointed tone in his voice. "Come here liebling, you need to hydrate it." He said now softly, knowing that it must hurts you.
Lots of small touches that make goosebumps on your skin, when he puts his hand on your lower back and starts rubbing small circles there as you put your head on his shoulder, now finally being comfortable. Your eyes are heavy as you feel him kiss the top of your head.
—
Do not copy or translate my works!
It was supposed to be Kimi but somehow it ended up being Mick so... maybe Kimi is gonna be next?
🫠🩷
#f1#f1 x reader#x reader#k0juki's stuff 🩷#Mick#mick schumacher#mick schumacher x reader#mick schumacher x you#max verstappen x reader#carlos sainz#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#kimi#kimi raikkonen#ms47#formula 1
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mmmmmmm. messy ass ramble thoughts ahead. this is not coherent, it is 1am, you have been warned.
so i've been thinking about that "i can fix anything! i can just keep messing up and fixing things forever, and you'll never have to know or think about any of it!" line during steven's lil manic panic moment in the ep everything's fine in the context of like... og SU episodes
this whole lil manic slip is one that's like... it seems a little extreme for him as a character at first, when one looks at the situation on surface.
but i think it really does shed a LOT of light onto one of his deepest fear. the same fear he's harbored for a good damn deal of the show.
"i didn't wanna hurt anyone!"
this moment comes just a few eps after the S3 finale 'reveal' of rose shattering pink diamond. in that final scene of the season, steven gets 'confirmation' from garnet that this happened, and seems to accept it for what it was- a difficult decision made amidst a treacherous war.
but also, he Doesn't.
because he's the legacy rose left behind. because each and every day he's growing more into his power. because now, with this reveal of rose's decision to shatter on the table, he's putting each and every decision he makes under a microscope.
he had no choice, he claims. she wouldn't let him help her.
he had no choice. it was self defense.
but is that true?
isn't that the same thing his mom probably told herself before ending a gem's life forever?
even though she poofed bismuth and holed her away for suggesting the very same idea??
rose became a hypocrite... so what if HE becomes the hypocrite, too?
see, with steven... i think it's really easy in the main show to sorta... observe all his actions on the mere surface without considering the deeper tickings of his psyche. like... take lars being brought back to life. from audience POV, that's a good deed. steven just saved someone with his magic! positive moment.
but genuinely... i think this was one of the worst moments of his entire life. i think he's still haunted by it- by the fact that he can just "fix" people in that way. and i think fixing jasper's shattered gem only made the specter of that day worse.
steven believes his role is to be the Shield.
the protector.
the one who is willing to do whatever it takes- even up to turning himself in for a crime he didn't commit- to protect his family and his friends.
and like, we all know that it's not steven's FAULT that lars died. BUT- he still died while under steven's protection.
and so the same way steven blames himself for "hurting" bismuth, jasper, and eyeball, he blames himself for killing lars. mentally, he Takes Responsibility for his death. yet another tick mark in the box of horrible "mistakes" he's made, yet another tick mark landing him just a little closer to the rose he's desperately trying not to become.
and worst of all... it's a mistake he "covers up."
because his tears are able to bring him back from the dead entirely.
and years later he realizes this is true for gems as well ;-;;;
so yeah, i absolutely think lars' death was also at the back of his mind when he said that line at the beginning
what steven saw in the depths of his mind as he was panicking there was him slipping down a slippery slope of violence that he couldn't escape from
first, causing harm to other gems and calling it self defense...
then, letting your friend die protecting YOU when you're the one who should be protecting him and facing NO consequence for this misgiving because you bring him back to life
then, expressing anger so visceral it can shatter floors, destroy whole rooms, flip vans. out of control. inexcusable.
then... outright shattering a gem in a duel while training to hone that anger. once again, facing NO consequence because you bring her right back.
then, that sudden, terrifying thought of "what if i shattered white diamond"
like, steven has absolutely no framework by which to separate his actions from genuine desire or just plain abstract thought.
he has no framework by which to understand the beautiful tool of adding a "man would it be fucked up or what-" to the beginning of those sorts of intimidating, dark musings.
he has no framework by which to understand the complexities of his trauma, and the way in which genuinely fighting back against someone he once called an enemy might feel empowering- instead, it would seem he's disgusted in retrospect with how deep he pressed into that fight, how much a part of him ENJOYED it, all because of the horrid destination it led to.
anyways at this point steven thinks he has now become the Hypocrite like his mom, and that he's just destined to hurt everyone around him forever but never be punished for it and Ouch
this post has no end, these were just ramble thoughts, the end. goodnight. i am sleepy and need to prepare to make Wig tomorrow bc OH boy i am con crunch.
yeehaw .
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I keep thinking about fluff/smut where, for once, Pedro Pascal is the one crushing on (fem) reader- don’t get me wrong, I love all the daddy dom vibes, but him catching feelings for a funny/sweet younger woman and getting all flustered about it?
Maybe a mid-late 20-something year old, someone who is a friend of a friend or an extra on set~ I just think as flirty and charming as he is, he’d be one to get as red as a tomato around his little crush <3
What do you think? I’d love to hear your take!
Okay, so first, sorry it took me so long to respond, I saw this ask and I got an Idea™ and I had to run with it because why not? Second, I hope you like what I came up with as an answer, I tried. So here it is:
Ask Her
Pedro Pascal x Reader
A/N: I haven't written anything in forever, I'm still suffering from Writer's Block so go easy on me. Also it's not proofread and it's 6:40 in the morning so any mistakes are my bad. Special thanks to @ziggyrocket for the support 💜.
Warnings: None
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was the third time that day that you felt his eyes on you, and when you turned around to look at him, you saw him look away quickly.
Next to him, Bella, rolled their eyes. "You know you could just go over and talk to her," they pointed out.
He shook his head. "And say what?"
"Umm how about 'Hi, how are you? How’s your day going?’ to start with."
“Right and then what?”
“Then you have a conversation like a normal person…” Nico chimed in from his other side.
“And eventually ask her out,” Bella finished, “because this whole staring and then looking away thing is ridiculous.”
“Yeah and you clearly like her,” Nico added.
Pedro averted his eyes and looked down at his phone in his hands, clearly not wanting to admit to anything.
Nico and Bella exchanged glances over his head and with a mischievous glint in their eye, Bella gasped, “Oh, she’s looking over here!”
Pedro’s head shot up, his cheeks turning a bright red, as he looked over to where you were; but you were deep in conversation with one of the other make-up artists, not even remotely looking that way.. Nico and Bella snickered at him. He sighed and shook his head at them.
“Oh, don’t be like that,” Bella said, “I was just proving our point.”
Nico nodded. “Eventually, you’re gonna have to talk to her.”
As fate would have it, “eventually” came sooner than expected. Later that week, you were assigned to do his make-up, since the artist that regularly did it was out for the day. So, when Pedro walked in and saw you standing there, he stopped abruptly and just stared for a second. You didn’t notice at first, since your back was turned, but when you looked into the mirror and saw him standing there, looking at you, you smiled wide and turned around.
“Hi.”
He opened his mouth but no sound came out. He then cleared his throat. “Hi,” he managed to get out. “Um, where’s…?”
“She had something she had to do, family I think, so you have me today,” you answer, “I promise, you’re in good hands.” You gave him another smile and gestured for him to sit in the chair.
He sat and you began carefully applying his make-up. At first you worked in silence, neither of you sure of what to say.
You had felt his eyes on you from the moment you walked on set. You weren’t so sure that it meant anything in the beginning. You were, after all, just a lowly make-up artist, not even the primary one, why would someone like him even look twice at you? But as time went on, you started to notice it more and more. It really hit you when, one day, you were touching up Nico’s make-up and she casually joked that he seemed to perk up more when you were around.
“He smiles more,” she’d said, “it’s almost like he’s had an extra strong cup of coffee.”
“Mind you,” Gabriel had chimed in, “he doesn’t really need it.”
You all laughed. Pedro’s hyperactivity was well known. Which made his current silence a bit odd.
He’s nervous, you thought.
He cleared his throat again, bringing you back to the present. You figured that you might as well strike up some kind of conversation. Funnily enough, he had the same thought.
“So…” you both began at the same time. Then you stopped. You looked at him and you both burst into laughter.
“You go ahead,” you said.
He shook his head. “Nah, you go.”
“Gentlemen first,” you commented with a smirk.
He laughed at that, then asked, “What are you listening to?”
“Huh?” you touched the earbud you had in your ear that was playing a song softly. “Oh, just some music to wake me up.”
He raised his eyebrows and gestured with his hand for you to explain more.
“Prince,” you said simply, “Raspberry Beret.”
He smiled wide at that. “Love that song.”
“Really?”
He nodded.
“Hmm, okay,” you said, and put the brush and powder you had in your hand down on the table behind you.
You went over to your bag and dug around in it.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Normally,” you began, “I just keep my earbuds in, because I know not everyone likes the same music I do… aha,” you said triumphantly as you pulled out your mini bluetooth speaker, “but when I’m alone, I use this.”
You turned on the speaker and set it on the table, then connected your phone. Soon the beat began and you both sang along. “I was working part-time in a five and dime, my boss was Mr. McGee…”
You picked up your brush again and started back on his make-up, your head bopping along to the song.
After that, it seemed like the ice had been broken. He started asking you more questions: where you from, how long you had been doing make-up, favorite color, etc. You answered all of them with ease, and asked him more questions in return.
Before you knew it, you were finished. “All right, all done,” you announced.
“That was quick,” he said. In truth, you had taken a little bit longer than you normally would have, you just wanted to spend a bit more time with him. “Um, I guess I better get going…”
“Yeah, yeah, sure,” you said, as you put away the brushes and other things. You both were shy again.
“I’ll, um, I’ll see you out there,” he said, standing and stretching.
You turned and looked up at him, into his eyes. That made him blush. You smiled and you felt your own cheeks grow warm. “Yeah, of course.”
After that, he was more comfortable around you. From time to time the both of you could be found, earbuds in, heads bobbing along to some song or another or dancing around to music blasting from your portable bluetooth speaker. It was obvious to everyone who spent five minutes around the two of you that you both liked each other; there were inside jokes, laughter, and shared looks between you two, but the weeks went by and nothing more happened.
Bella and Nico were frustrated with this. How was it possible that the most outgoing person they knew, couldn’t even bring himself to ask you out, when it was obvious that he wanted to?
Bella approached him again. “All I’m saying is you need to…”
“No.”
“You don’t even know what I was gonna say,” Bella argued.
“You were gonna say I need to ask her out,” Pedro responded.
“Well you do,” Nico said.
“She won’t say yes.”
“You don’t know that,” they both said at the same time.
“All we’re saying is it won’t hurt to ask,” Bella said.
“It would hurt if she said no,” he pointed out.
“Which she won’t do,” Nico added, rolling her eyes.
“How do you…?”
“How do we know? By the way she looks at you,” Bella sighed
“She doesn’t…”
“Yeah, she does, she looks at you the same way you look at her.”
Pedro sighed and shook his head.
"What’s the problem?” Bella asked. “There’s something else isn’t there?”
He looked around, making sure they were alone, before confessing the one thing that was holding him back. “I-I’m too old,” he said quietly.
Bella and Nico exchanged glances, then started giggling.
“It’s not funny.”
“No, but it is,” Bella said, “because it’s bullshit. If she didn’t like you she wouldn’t spend nearly as much time around you as she does, she wouldn’t talk to you as much as she does, none of it. I’m sure your age means nothing to her.”
“Exactly,” Nico agreed, nodding, then looking around she spotted you talking to someone. “So, what you’re gonna do is go over there and ask her out, and,” she said ignoring Pedro’s grunt of protest, “she’s gonna say yes, and you’re gonna take her somewhere nice.”
Pedro stared at you, as you talked and laughed with one of the other crew members, his nerves getting the best of him again. He wanted to go over to you, but his feet felt rooted to the spot. He looked at Bella and Nico and shook his head. He couldn’t do it. He looked back over at you, the conversation you were having had come to an end, and you were standing there, going through one of your bags, looking for something.
At that moment, you looked up and around, spotting him. You smiled and he did the same, swallowing around the lump grown in his throat. He felt Bella push him forward slightly and sighed. They weren’t going to let this go until he did something, he knew. So, he squared his shoulders and walked over to you, smiling and blushing, but determined.
#ask#answered#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal fan fiction#josé pedro balmaceda pascal#bella ramsey#nico parker#ficlet#wiskey writes
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