#you should really look into that other bag of yours reader
Text
fiabesco
a harry styles x reader one-shot
2.2k words
cw: so much fluff
“No, that's not– give it to me.”
Harry’s hands reached for the small device in your hand before you could speak another word. You huffed out a sigh of annoyance before you crossed your arms over your chest.
Harry looks at the phone and then back to the kettle, a few times to make sure that he's right, but you know that you are right.
“That's the right color, I promise.” Your words feel like they mean nothing as the two of you stand in front of the small display. You aren't even sure he's heard you.
It had been like this all day; you were both tired, drained from the house moving process. It was easier to shop online, you had told him. But Harry’s idea was to get you both out of the house, to give you a break from the four walls that you had moved into and been staring at for what felt like days.
That was proving difficult, as the photos and the real-life images were not matching up to either of your standards.
“This is not the same color as online,” Harry scoffed as he turned the kettle around in his hands. “This is like, a dark grey,” He holds the phone, then picks up the kettle. “This is chrome.”
You rolled your eyes, but Harry took notice before he put his hands on his hips and shook his head. The sleeves of his long-sleeved grey shirt were pushed up now; the clothes you both wore must have been filthy as you had been moving in the early hours of the day. The Italian heat was no joke, your frizzy hair and pink cheeks would speak on that.
You could tell that you were getting frustrated at one another. In all honesty, you knew that Harry wanted everything to be perfect and it was a bit frustrating to know that the item in the store wasn't what you both had wanted.
But you look at it with another eye, and note that it could work. “Let's just get it.” You say to him, shrugging. “If we don't like it in the kitchen, we can bring it back. It's not a huge deal.”
Harry’s the one to roll his eyes this time, “Aren't we here to buy this so we could have tea this evening? Isn't that why we're here and not showering?”
It was true– you had both come to the conclusion that the kettle was an important part of the first night ritual. It had dawned on you then that you couldn't really use the item and then bring it back.
“Well, let's buy this one– we can go to another store—” You were cut off by his grumbled words.
“Whatever– do whatever you want.” His visible frustration was pressing you as you bit on your lip. You thought about the photo he had shown you from the website and you really believed that you were looking at the same one.
A lot of the times, the photos were different than real life, and you think the shine may not have been as present in the photo. But you weren't sure.
As you bit your lip, you breathed outward as you spun the small kettle around in your hands.
“Do you really think—"
“I said do whatever you want! Get the fucking chrome then!” His voice was raised then; visible anger crossing his eyes as they knit together, and his hands stayed in his hips. It was a raised voice at me, and I could tell that we had both pushed each other to the brink.
Harry never got frustrated at you; he never yelled or raised his voice, he never looked angry. There weren't any frown lines crossing along his cheeks and forehead because Harry was hardly ever upset or mad at anything.
But you were pushed to your emotional breaking point as you set the kettle down on the shelf a bit too hard, making the metal shelf rattle as you did so. The tightness of your jaw only exceeded your need to cry as you pushed back the tears in your eyes.
You grabbed ahold of the bag that you held on to your shoulder as you started to walk towards the exit of the small kitchen store, nestled in the small nook of the Roman street.
Getting your dream home with the love of your life should have been a happy thing; it should have been a moment where the two of you relished in the sun and drank freshly made orange juice in the early summer mornings to beat the heat of the sun.
Instead, you were fighting back angry tears and walking away without another word because you didn't want to cry in the store. You pushed through the door, onto the street and didn't care if Harry was following you.
But he had been, he was right on your heel because that was the kind of person he was. Harry was kind; he never meant to hurt your feelings or make you frustrated. As soon as he raised his voice, his regret only further mad his anger grow– at himself this time, not the situation.
It was just that he had wanted the evening with you to be perfect. Everything had fallen into place so right. You had loved all of the furniture to the respective rooms, you set the TV up to be able to watch a film at the end of the night. After you had both showered, made love on the empty rug that blessed your living space floor, you would snuggle up on the sofa and watch one of your favorites— Notting Hill. A cup of tea in both of your hands as you allowed yourself the ideal summer night.
But instead, you two were frustrated and burnt out and in need of a meal and a shower, which felt more like it would lead to getting snuggled in bed and falling asleep on either sides.
You let a tear fall, but not anymore because now you could feel the exhaustion in your bones as you felt his presence on you now. You hear the scuffle of his trainers behind you as you lick on your lips and taste the saltiness of the tear that fell.
“C’mon, baby, I’m sorry.” You hear his voice, feeling the way that his hand grips at the back of your neck. It's in the comforting way that you like, as he guides you to turn and face him. Your head fits against his chest as you let it rest there for a moment; not caring about the way that you're sweating.
The hand on your neck moves into your hair as Harry keeps you there for a moment; letting his fingers glide into it, just below the placement of the clip holding your hair back.
“I didn't mean to snap at you,” He tells you, his lips placing on the top of your head as you stand against the wall of the store. The small nook feels private as you let out a huge sigh.
Harry laughs at that; his vibrato of a laugh is felt as you're against him, which makes you’re the edges of your lips move up in a soft smile.
“You're not mad at me, are you?” He asks, nudging an answer from you still.
This time, Harry nudges you away from him, but he places his fingers along your chin to raise you to look right into his eyes. It's a fluid movement, but you take in the way that his facial hair has grown out, the way that his skin has browned, and his eyes are light against it.
You purse your lips, swallowing as you shake your head with a discreetness that you're not even sure he could catch. But he must, because you see the way that the dimple pops along his cheek matter-of-factly.
“I think we're both stressed out,” He nods, “And we're both just a little on edge, hm?” Harry keeps pressing questions but your eyes stare at him for a moment before he presses on your chin again. His fingers feel strong as you hold your stare at him.
“I’m sorry,” You let out, wanting to keep yourself together, “I think we both just need to take a minute and get ourselves together. We were bound to lose ourselves at one point or another.”
The warm Italy breeze hits you and your shut your eyes for a moment as you feel the way that it trapezes across your skin.
“Hm,” Harry tuts, “I think I know a fix for this.”
His hand drops from your chin, grabbing ahold of your hand as you move through the small streets. They're cobblestoned and hold the footsteps of so many others before you— through love, breakup, first kisses, and first glances.
You don't know where he's leading you, but it's fine at the moment because you feel a burst of nostalgia and an outpouring of gratitude that you may have taken for granted before.
Who cared about the color of the kettle when the skies were the fiercest shade of cerulean and the sun hung in its highest peak? Who cared about any of that when the man of your dreams hung tightly onto your hand as he whisked you away and into the streets that would hold all of your memories from now on— bits of happiness here and there were awaiting you?
Harry pulled you along the streets, guiding you and marking small memories here and there as he would turn to ensure you were still with him. Even with the grasp his hand had in you, it felt important for him to know the smile and eagerness was still on your face.
As you arrived by the small socks that held rocky beaches and tented umbrellas, your eyes glided over the small gelato stand that had become accustomed to your routines since visiting Italy to begin with. But now your adventures together here had made this more of an availability than ever before.
Your heart stung at the pricelessness of the moment as you approached the stand with Harry on your hand.
“Bit of a treat to reward ourselves, hm?” He asked you, and your bit your lip as you tried to figure out what flavor you would get.
“Think I’m going to get pistachio,” You tell him, your heart settled on it.
Harrys hums for a moment before he tilts his head and purses his own lips. “Would it be boring for me to just saw custard?”
You laugh a little, nodding, “Yes, no custard. You have to do the lemon.”
You convince him; he orders the pistachio for you, and the lemon for himself— even if it was just so you could have both for yourself, taking bites of his when you could a chance.“Un pistacchio e un limone, per favore.” Your heart clenches at the words he speaks, the language flying off of his tongue as he does so with ease. You long await getaways together had turned into where you had felt your deepest love affairs.
He hands you yours, and the spoonful is glorious. It melts in your mouth as you both stand off to the side now, the sound of the river behind you as you let your eyes meet his again. You watch the kink of his smile as he hears the pleasure take over you.
“Good, then?” He asks as he takes his own bite. His lips drift over his lips as he nods to confirm it himself, humming in satisfaction.
“This was the perfect idea.” You tell him, taking another bite.
You both head over to a bench by the water, taking in the sites of the tourists and the loved one who have made their trek around the city. So much love and admiration as you sit in a bit of silence.
“What are you most excited for?” Harry asks you, breaking the quiet. You ponder the question for a moment before turning to face him a bit more.
“I think I’m just excited to build a home,” You say, watching as his eyes crinkle by the sides. It's subtle, but you notice with such ease that happiness looks marvelous on him. “Build a family.”
Harry looks at his treat before lifting his eyes to you. “So many,” He mumbles, “So, so many of our little babies.”
You hum before using your thumb to brush over his cheek; your chin leans in to give him the softest, most chaste kiss before pulling back and giving his eyes an easy glance.
“Sono così grato per questa vita.”
Harry leans in to kiss you, your hands wrapping into his hair as you accept it with ease.
“Un fiabesco.” He says against your lips, his eyes taking a glance into yours. It's the kind of dreaming that cannot be done unless you're asleep, certainly.
Your troubles all wash away as you melt away into the sun of the day, leaving bits of memories here and there along the streets of Rome, waiting for you to remember them later— smiling at the love and memories that had adorned them before you, and very much afterwards.
#harry styles#hs#harry fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x original character#anon ask#harry styles fanfic#harry styles smut#harry wattpad#ask#harry styles one shot#wattpad writer#harry styles story#harry#styles#one direction#one-shot#one-shot story#fiabesco
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Can you please write part of roommate reader? I've hoped it could be a new series 🥺🥺 I'm obsessed with that story lol😩😩😩
yes!! ofc!! 💗
Roommates Part 2 (fem)
MDNI🔞
Part 1
Master List (✍🏽)
>cw: fem/afab, oral, p in v, squirting, dirty talk
2.3k word count
🏠
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Two weeks have passed since König moved in, since the incident happened. You still haven’t talked to him much other than an awkward “hello” here and there. König has been understanding of your behavior, but he honestly wishes you both could move past it. He was wondering if maybe he should just move out.
Today, as you walk out of your room, the aromatic smell of coffee hits you. You see, König leaning against the sink, wearing only gray sweatpants. In his hand he holds a mug of coffee and in the other his phone as he scrolled on it. His blue eyes look up and land on you. A smile forms on his lips, shoving his cell phone into his pocket.
“Guten Morgen. Would you like some coffee? It just finished brewing.” He smiles and shows off his sharp canines.
“Um, no thanks.” You say awkwardly, avoiding eye contact with him.
Trying to ignore him as you walk to the pantry and grab a box of cereal. Then you hear the cabinet open and you see König grabbing a bowl for you. He holds it out for you and you nod in thanks. As you place it all on the table, you see König opening the fridge to get you the milk.
“You don’t have to do everything for me.”
“I don’t mind.” He looks at you as he places the milk on the table and lingers for a while. “I just feel bad for making you feel uncomfortable in your own home.”
“It- you did nothing wrong. Honestly. I’m just, well, mortified.” You say as you fidget with the flap on the box of cereal.
“You don’t have to be. I understand how awkward it must be for you, but please know I don’t judge you for it. If we could just start over and pretend it never happened, I’d like that a lot.”
König looks at you, waiting to see if you’d accept his offer. His eyes drift to your breasts as you look away, trailing up along the curve of your neck and back to your eyes as you look back at him.
“I’d like that.”
A wide smile creeps across König’s lips. “I’m glad.”
That was the start of a slow developing relationship. Eating breakfast together and chatting before bed became somewhat of a ritual for the both of you. Slowly, you both opened up to each other about life goals and past challenges. Without realizing it, you both have revolved your routines around seeing one another. The last few months together have been the happiest he’s been in decades.
Today, when you got home from work, there was a different vibe in the apartment. You kicked off your shoes and placed your bag down by the door.
König’s blue eyes trail up your body, not caring to be discreet. An open beer sitting on the coffee table in front of him. You both look at each other for a moment before you walk forward to the couch and sit next to him.
“Are you okay?”
König doesn’t respond right away; he leans back into the throw pillows. “I’m getting deployed soon.” His blue eyes meet you again. Usually, he wouldn’t care, but he’s been slowly building a relationship with you and now he is being pulled away from you. You’ve felt like home. He’s wasted all this time
“Oh, for how long?” You try to mask the disappointment in your tone.
“Anywhere from six months to a year.”
“That’s a long time.”
“It is.” König’s eyes trail down from your eyes to your lips.
“When do you leave?”
“In three days.” He says, reaching forward for the beer and taking a swig.
Your jaw drops, looking surprised to hear how soon he will leave you. It’s his job, but right now you feel selfish because you want him to stay. You’ll miss his company, miss him.
“The apartment will feel empty without you.” The words flow from your lips with a hint of sorrow.
König forces a small smile. “I really like you.” It was time you both stopped acting like shy teenagers and just got your feelings out there for one another. “I have feelings for you.”
This isn’t recent news to you; you’ve always sort of known he likes you. The way he gazes at you, packs lunches for you, and smiles when he sees you- it’s all very obvious. You’re pretty sure he already knows that you like him, too.
“I have feelings for you, too.”
König’s eyes light up as you confess your feelings are mutual. A smirk comes across his lips. A wave of confidence comes over him as he leans towards you, his hand cupping your face as he places a tender kiss on your lips.
It’s as if sparks go off and travel throughout your whole body as your lips meet. You kiss back eagerly, your lips pressing harder into his as one of your hands moves to his thigh. The feeling of your warm hand makes him shiver.
He slowly pulls away from the kiss and looks down at you. In his mind, he is running through the different ways he can ask you for more. Ask you to wait for him to come back. Give him your body so he can have something to remember while away, other than the mental image you squirting. Months have been wasted because he doesn’t think he’s deserving of you.
You can see the look in his eyes, your hand lightly squeezes his thigh. “Talk to me. What’s on your mind?”
“I want you.” He finally says. You’ll either agree or reject him. It felt as if a lifetime passed before he felt you move your hand up his thigh more.
“I want you too.”
Words aren’t needed anymore. He grabs your waist and brings you on to his lap. His mouth pressing into yours, opening to lick your bottom lip. You accept him into your mouth as your tongues swirl together. His gigantic hands caress your body, one trailing down the curve of your hip and the other under your shirt, climbing up to your bra.
You can feel his erection press into you, small moans leaving both of your lips into each other’s mouths. His hand slips underneath your bra and cups your breast in his hand. Your skin is so warm and soft. A groan leaving his mouth as his fingers pinch your nipple.
König pulls his mouth away from yours and lifts your shirt off of your body. His lips find yours again as he tosses the shirt on the back of the couch. He reaches around your body to unhook your bra as your tongues flick over one another’s.
He pulls back again and looks down at your glorious breasts. “Wow.” He looks at you, speechless, for a moment. His eyes meet yours as his mouth drifts to your chest. In one hand, he grips your heavy breast and brings it to his mouth. His tongue reaches out and flicks at your nipple. A small whimper leaves your lips before he wraps his lips around your nipple, latching on to it. Your fingers comb through his messy blonde hair as his mouth hungrily goes back and forth between both breasts.
His fingers fidget with the belt you're wearing, trying to pull your bottoms off of you as fast as he can. You assist him and unbutton your pants, lifting your ass so he can pull your pants off of you. Lips leaving your breasts, he lets his gaze roam over your body. He runs his fingers down your thighs. A little of prickly hair, but König couldn’t care less.
“You’re stunning.” He says, his voice lower than a whisper.
König stands with you in his arms, turning to place you on the couch. He lays you back, almost recreating when he walked in on you, masturbating. It’s all he’s been thinking about, fucking you in that position.
“It was a busy day at work.” You say bashfully, worried about your pussy maybe smelling.
“Perfect.” König says as he continues to kiss down your body.
A blush comes across your face as you look down at him kissing all over your belly, under your belly, your hips, and moving down… You let out a pleasured gasp as he kisses your pussy lips. His hands grasping your legs and spreading them apart, placing one over his arm and the other resting on the coffee table. He kisses up and down your pussy without kicking you. His eyes closed as if he was kissing a lover. Breathing in deeply and taking in your raw natural scent.
Finally, his eyes open and make eye contact with you. His fat tongue pressed down on to your pussy and swipes up quickly, parting your folds around his tongue. You taste fucking divine. He lets out a groan once your juices touch his taste buds.
Your hand reaches out to the back of his head, holding him against you. Moans flowing from your lips as he rapidly flicks his tongue over your clit. His free hand slides up your leg to your pussy. One finger circles around the entrance of your vagina. Slowly, he slips it in. His finger curved upwards as he slowly begins to move it in and out of it.
You close your eyes and drop your head back, letting your body fully appreciate the pleasure it’s receiving right now. Legs twitching as his tongue and arm moves faster. One of your hands moves to your nipple. You tug on it, catching König’s attention.
His cock is rock hard in his pants, absent-mindedly grinding his hips into the couch cushion. The moans you make match what he heard that day he walked in on you. A second finger slips in as his eyes watch you closely. Your hand moves from his head and squeezes the pillows behind your head.
“König, I’m going to cum.” Your voice is higher pitched.
“Are you going to squirt for your König?”
“Yes!” Your back arches as your body trembles. “Fuucckkk!”
König gets hit in the face by your squirting. He opens his mouth and drinks you in, finally being able to taste you. Removing his fingers from your pussy, he rubs them over your clit quickly. He shoves his face into your cunt and shakes his head back and forth.
“Fuck you’re amazing.” He growls.
His hands quickly pull down his pants. He pulls his shirt over his head to reveal his scarred body to you. Your eyes trace over his muscular but soft body as he stands and pulls down his boxes. You try to not act surprised seeing how hung he is when deep down inside you’re worried it will hurt.
König kneels on the couch in front of you, pulling your hips to him. He rubs his raw cock against your clit, getting himself covered in your cum. Since he is a big guy, this angle was a little awkward. One leg over his shoulder, the other one resting down, he lowers himself to kiss your lips.
“Beg for my pussy.” You look into his blue eyes.
König is absolutely shocked, but fuck was that hot.
“Please let me fuck your pussy.” He begs almost pathetically. Never has he been put in this position before. “Please I need to feel you.” He whispers, leaning down and kissing your neck softly. His hips rock against you, aching to thrust into you.
“Fuck me.”
König didn’t hesitate, he thrust into you. He watches your face as he does. Your face scrunches as you feel him bottom out inside of you. Shoving his 10-inch cock into you as much as you’ll take. Whimpers leave your lips and your eyes maintain contact with his.
“That’s it, Liebling. You can take me.” His voice is low and sensual. Slowly he pulls back and thrust into you again, harder this time.
“Oh my god! Please fuck me!” You’ve never felt a cock this good before, not even your toys can compare. His hips begin to slam into you.
Pathetic little mewls escape your mouth as your eyes flutter back. A cocky grin appears on his face as he sees you turn from that dominant woman to a cock hungry mess.
“You take my cock so well, meine Kleine Hure.”
Not speaking German, you’re unaware he just called you his little whore, but the tone in his voice excites you. Your eyes stay locked on his as his hips roll into you at a rapid pace. The feeling of your wet pussy wrapping tightly around him is pushing him to the edge.
“I’m going to cum Liebling…” He pants as he leans in to kiss on your neck. His cock begins to throb as he moans loudly, moaning out your name. You caress his body as he lays on you, catching his breath.
König sits up, wrapping his arms around your body to pull you up with him. Your body straddles his lap as you both kiss.
“I want you to be mine. I want to know that I have you to come home to. That your body and mind are mine.” He kisses your cheek softly, waiting for your response.
His words make you pause, you pull away to look into his eyes. You trace each scar that covers his handsome face, trying to memorize him and this moment, knowing he will be leaving soon.
“I’ll wait for you. I’m yours.”
“And I’m yours, Liebling.”
König leans in to kiss your lips again, addicted to the way you taste. Even the way your breath smells. He’s just in love with everything about you.
“What does Liebling mean?”
“Oh, it’s like calling you, my love.”
“That’s really cute.” You giggle and think back to sex. “What does Kleine Hure mean?” The German words come out pronounced terribly, but König understood.
König clears his throat and blushes, “Oh, uh-”
#konig#konig x reader#könig#konig cod#könig x reader#konig x y/n#konig smut#könig smut#könig cod#könig mw2#könig x y/n#konig x you#könig x you#cod smut#konig x reader smut#smut#cod konig#könig call of duty
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plsss kate martin angst
drunk words
kate martin x fem!reader
summary: you had known kate since you were kids, what happens when you except your feelings for her?
you and kate had known each other for years, you had even gone to Iowa with her. over the years, you've developed a small crush on her, kate's amazing attitude and kindness drawing you to her.
kate walks into your shared apartment, arms full of grocery bags. you quickly spring up from your spot on the couch to help her. "hey, successful trip?" you joke, gasping as you spot your favorite snack.
kate laughs, closing the fridge as she looks at your excited expression. "i saw you were running low, thought i would get you some more."
you quickly put it in your secret stash in your room, "what would i do without you?" kate shrugs, her eyes seeming to sparkle. "i dunno, probably starve."
"oh shut up, acting as if i don't do anything by myself.." you mumble the last part, continuing to put away groceries.
"hey i heard there's a party tonight! wanna go? i heard there will be cute guys." kate nudged your arm lightly, smirking at the thought of setting you up with someone. "plus you and i both know we need to get out more."
"hey, i get out! plus, i don't need any guys, i have you for a reason." you cross your arms as you watch her put away the last item. "okay true," kate hums, "but I'm tired of rotting away every friday night. it'll be fun i swear. need a remind you about the cute guys?"
you sigh, nodding. "okay, what time is it at?" you over to the clock on the wall, it reading 5:23 pm. "it starts at eight but we should probably get there earlier for the good liquor." kate winks, a grin on her face.
"i bet i could get a guy to get me a drink," she smiles, leaning against the kitchen counter. "can you shut up about the guys? that's not helping."
kate was taken aback by your sudden attitude, but her shock was quickly replaced by a smug look. "are you jealous or something?"
you scoff, rolling your eyes at her implication. "jealous? of what?" you tried to shrug off her idea, knowing deep down you were jealous that she wasn't talking about you like that.
kate gives you a teasing look, smirking "yes you are! admit it, you're crushing on some girl." she gasps, giggle "aw are you crushing on me?" she teases you, playfully pushing your shoulder.
"no kate, can't you just drop it?" you uncross your arms, walking over your bed as you try to ignore her surprisingly accurate accusation. kate laughs as she follows, jumping onto your bed next to you. "c'mon you know i won't judge, just tell me"
"no kate, this is something i want to keep to myself." you turn on your side, facing away from her. kate frowns, a little disappointed. she stays silent for a few moments before speaking again. "okay fine, i'll drop it, but you know i always find out."
"shut up," you mumble into your pillow, "plus how could i have a crush on you? i'm not even gay." kates eyes widen before she bursts out laughing, "good one, but we both know that's bullshit."
you don't say anything, know that speaking would just dig yourself a deeper hole of no return. you decide to take a quick nap before the party.
you wake up a little before seven, meaning you had about an hour to get ready. you first got dressed, throwing on something party-appropriate. realizing that kate had fallen asleep too, i woke her up. “c’mon kate, we gotta go soon.”
she got up with a groan, dragging her feet over to the bathroom. kate usually takes a little while to get ready, but she manages a good pace as she walks around the apartment. "ready,"
you stand up from your seat at the kitchen table, looking at her up and down. she looks good. "you look really pretty," kate smiles at you, causing color to rush to your cheeks.
you point to the door, regaining your composure, "lead the way." the party wasn't far from your apartment, so the two of you opted to walk. as you got up to the house you could already feel the vibrations of the loud music.
kate takes a look at you and grins, "alright, lets do this." you shake your head as she pulls you forward, walking through the front door. taking a deep breath, you take in the unfamiliar surroundings. people were crowding the small space, empty solo cups already littered the available surface area.
kate quickly got caught up with people, fitting right in. you on the other hand, had made your way to a nearby wall, trying to scope out the people. you smiled as you spotted jada and gabbie, two of kate's teammates.
the duo was taking to a group of football players, and you grabbed a drink on the way over to calm your nerves. "hey guys," jada's face lights up at your appearance, and gabbie is quick to hug you.
"hey! we didn't expect to see you here tonight?" gabbie looked to jada, who then nodded at you. "yeah how's it going?" jada took a sip of her drink, waiting for your answer.
"good, kate dragged me here. something about cute guys." you shrug, taking a sip of your drink. jada looks around, nodding. "yeah, i guess there are some cute guys here. they're all total douchebags though."
gabbie nods, also looking around. "speaking of our dear friend kate, where is she?" you pause, trying to remember if you saw her on your way over. "um, last i saw she was talking to some group of girls."
jada and gabbie give each other a look, causing your eyebrows to knit together in confusion. "what?" you ask, feeling nervous almost. "nothing, it's just kate said she liked someone and we've been trying to figure out who." jada explains
"and you think its a girl?" you take another sip of your drink, taking in the new information. why hadn't kate told you? "well she said no to every guy we said, so were out of ideas. plus it would kind of make sense"
"how?" you were interested, maybe you did have a chance. "well you know, you guys have always kind of been like, you know." gabbie tries to explain, but you don't understand what she means. "no? i don't know?"
"you guys have always had that kind of friend or dating type of thing." jada puts in bluntly, causing you to nod a barely audible 'oh' escaping your lips. "we're not saying she likes you though, or that we think you're like that, just, you know."
"no, i still don't 'know'" you cross your arms, tired of people being vague. "i'm going to go get a refill," i mutter, walking away from them.
getting over to the drink table, you run into the main topic of conversation. kate was chatting it up with a new group of people, all of which seemed to be paying a great deal of attention to her. you know it's wrong, but you're tired of seeing her with everyone but you.
you pour yourself another drink before walking over to her. "hey kate," you mumble, squeezing in between her and some random guy from the group she was talking to.
kate turns to you, still laughing from whatever joke the guy had said. she beamed at you, giving you a once-over. "look who it is! i was wondering where you went."
"i ran into jada and gabbie, so i was hanging with them." you smile, and you can smell the strong scent of alcohol on her breath. kate giggles as she sees you eyeing her. "mm, well im trying to have fun too and these guys aren't the best company, you know?"
why does everyone think you know? you turn to look at the group of guys, they're all drunk, laughing their asses off about something. "but anyway, you're here now," she murmurs, looping her arm around your waist loosely. "we can have our own fun now,"
you nod, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. "yeah sure, want to go dance?" kate smiles as she pulls you to the makeshift dance floor. the alcohol had clearly relaxed her significantly, making her more carefree and touchy.
you smile as you watch kate, she looked like she was having fun, even catching some people's attention. a few songs in a guy approaches you, "hey, i noticed you dancing over here. is that your girlfriend?" you laugh as he nods to kate. "uh no, she is just my roommate."
"oh so you're single then?" he gives you a cheesy smile as he looks you up and down. "you're really pretty, would you maybe want to go grab a drink?" you turn back to kate, seeing her talking to some other girl.
"yeah, i would love to." the guy smiles, offering you his hand. "i'm eric, by the way." he comments as he leads you away from kate. "okay, i am going to make you the best damn party drink you've ever had." eric says, grabbing a cup.
"hmm, i don't know, a shearly temple is pretty hard to beat." you laugh, watching him pour things into your cup carefully. meanwhile, kate has finished up her conversation, and is now scanning the room for you, coming up empty-handed.
"so you having fun tonight?" eric asks, handing you the cup. "yeah, it's been fun. i don't go to parties much." you nod, taking a sip of the drink he made. "really? you seem like the type to be invited to them all the time."
"i didn't say i don't get invited, i just don't come." you laugh, nodding your head as you take another sip. "you're a real stunner and you always know what to say, i like that in a girl. want to find somewhere quieter where we can talk?"
he eyes you hungrily, and you realize how much taller he is than you. "aw, im flattered but i need to finish this drink you made me! it's really good." you say, taking yet another sip.
"you could be enjoying much more than the drink if you come with me." he smiles, whispering into your ear. "thanks for the offer but i have to get back to my roommate, she's a. bit of a lightweight if you know what i mean."
"you're picking her over me? i thought we were having a good time, but i guess we have to cut it short because your friend can't handle herself." you nod, confused as to where this attitude is coming from. "yeah, i guess we will."
you walk away, trying to locate kate. you finally spot her talking to jada, a worried look on her face. "hey guys, what's up?" you say breathlessly, tired from squeezing through the crowd. kate's eyes widen as she sees you, relaxing a little. "there you are, i was looking everywhere for you. where'd you go? and why didn't you answer my text?"
"oh sorry, i was with some guy." kate narrows her eyes at your response, seeming almost mad. "'some guy?' who? and how is he more important than us? what were you even talking about" kate was mad, she was mad that you had someone else prioritized above her.
"a bunch of things, and it wasn't like we were hooking up in the bathroom, so calm down." you cross your arms, getting defensive. "he asked if i was single and you were off talking to some girl so i just said yes. he was a nice guy."
"what was his name? or did you guys not get to talking about that?" kate asked pointedly. "what is with the interrogation? i said he was a nice guy alright?" you roll your eyes, not quite sure why she was acting this way.
kate places her hand on your shoulder, trying to comfort you? "hey im just trying to understand who this guy is." you shrug her hand off of you, pulling back. "okay i just told you, so can you drop it? i'm going to go get a drink."
kate flinches, her smile dropping as you brush her off. "whats with her mood?" jada asks, sitting on the couch next to kate. "shut up, dude." kate says, leaning back, resting her head on top of her head.
"fuck," you mumble as you accidentally spill a drink. you eventually clean it up. after that, not paying any mind to how you might feel the next day, you pour yourself a few more just to try and lighten your mood.
you find your way to the dance floor again, you see kate as you dance. you don't know if she sees you, but you dance as if she's watching you.
some random football player comes up to you, just making you even more ticked off. you excuse yourself, squeezing past him to go find kate. even if you were slightly upset, you weren't going to leave with out her.
kate sees you coming towards her, and her face lights up immediately. she moves to wrap her arms around you, relieved to see you again. but as she looks closer, she notices your glassy eyes and flushed cheeks, and her smile fades. "hey are you okay? you look a bit..drunk."
she pulls back from the hug slightly, gently holding your face in her hands and studying your expression. "yeah i'm fine, can we go home?" you hiccup.
"yeah, yeah for sure. hey jada we're going to head out." kate days bye to people on the way out, guiding you through the crowd with her hand on your lower back.
"sorry i'm making you leave so early." you mumble, your eyes barely staying open. "hey, it's okay. don't worry about me. i just want to make sure you're alright." she looks at you with concern in her eyes, clearly worried about your emotional state.
once you and kate get back to your apartment you quickly change, completely forgetting she was still there. "woah, hey im still here." kate says, turning around, even if she has seen you many times before.
"sorry, you can turn back now." you mutter, walking to the bathroom to wash your face. "hey, don't worry about it. It's no big deal. I just wasn't expecting you to change so quickly." she smiles softly, noticing the tear stains on your cheeks. her heart aches for you, and she wants nothing more than to comfort you
"guys suck, so much." you sigh, climbing into bed, "and i don't even like them!" kate chuckles, a mixture of amusement and sympathy in her eyes. "yeah, well you know you don't have to force yourself to like them? you don't need to be in a relationship to be happy."
you nod, still very much under the influence, "i guess, but like i don't like any men, like i just want you. why can't you want me like i want you?" you begin to doze off, "things would be so much easier."
kate's heart skips a beat at your admission, her eyes widening in surprise. she wouldn't admit it, especially to your drunk self, but she knew deep down she wanted you too.
"get some sleep, we can talk tomorrow." kate said, leaning down and brushing some hair out of your face.
notes: sooo 🌝 you asked for kate angst and i think i failed miserably but whatever! anyway, i hate this sm and it makes zero sense so i would love feedback!
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summary: ghost is being chased by the police and just so happens to be sleeping with one of them. of course, she doesn't know that the man she's been sleeping with is also the man her department has been trying to find, but he does.
pairing: ghost x f!reader
word count: 2k+
a/n: THE VOICES DON'T STOP anyways i lowkey didn't think about this when i was writing, but this is kind of like the punisher?? but, i was inspired by the beekeeper ANYWAYS i hope you like it! let me know what you think:)
warning: death mentioned
18+ Content
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NSFW WARNING
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Cat and Mouse
The night sky was aglow by the bright street lamps, showcasing the streets demure appearance. A blanket of stars coaxing the sky above and the occasional barking of a faraway dog broke the silence of the night. You should be asleep, but the all-too-familiar bench that you took refuge on in the night when you found yourself rustling in your sleep called your name.
You held a cup of warm tea in your hand while the other grasped around a book you had brought out there. Though, you were too enamored with the simplicity of the streets to open it.
It was comforting to sit and just exist. It was a nice change of pace from the exhilaration and adrenaline that comes with your job. It was kind of expected of you to join the police force since your father had joined the force years ago, eventually getting himself promoted to chief of police, and your brother following suit.
You didn't mind the expectations, though. You found pleasure in helping citizens and keeping the streets clean. You never really considered it a job; it was more of fulfilling your duty. However, about a month ago, it started to feel like a job.
Your brother was KIA while staking out a trafficking organization downtown. He died saving the life of a fellow officer. It was not only a grave, devasting loss to your family but for the whole city. A selfish part of you wished he wasn't so selfless. A selfish part of you resented the other officer for being able to leave the scene alive and not in a body bag. But, the thoughts subsided when you would see the officer with one of his little girls clinging to his leg and the other resting on his pregnant wife’s hip. You realized that your brother hadn't just saved a police officer that day; he saved an entire family.
"It's a bit cold. No?" A gruff voice rang next to you, absolving you from your thoughts. You looked up at him, Simon. The man who you had been spending your nights with. But, make no mistake, he wasn't yours. He didn't belong to anyone. He said he couldn't.
"A little, but I have tea to warm me up." You smile up at him, taking a sip of your tea. He nods, then opens his door slightly to grab something hanging on the catch-all hooks, as you call them.
"For when the tea gets cold." He steps in front of you to gently lay one of his jackets on your lap, engulfing your legs. You give him a smile and curl your legs under you.
"Can I sit, or is two a crowd?" He questions, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. You'd think this was your first interaction with each other. But, ever since the death of your brother, he's been treading lightly. He doesn't want to upset you or be in your space without your permission.
"It's always been three, Simon." You lightly laugh, gently patting the seat next to you. He accepts the invitation and carefully sits on the wooden bench beside you, delicately laying his arm behind you and draping it over your shoulder.
"You know. I thought it would get easier." You pause, leaning closer, laying your head on his shoulder. "But, it's still hard." You breathe out, feeling a tear stream down your cheek.
He hums, so you know he's listening, as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. Although most find comfort in people consoling them and telling them everything is going to be alright, you find comfort in knowing he's near you and hears you. Even if it's just a kiss or a lingering touch, knowing he's right there eases your mind.
"And on top of that, the guy I told you about is back." You groan out. Referring to the vigilante, who had recently made his revival after going dormant for the last month. Before he went inactive, he employed acts of murder, kidnapping, and threats of violence to rid all sorts of evil. A uniquely brutal band of justice, indeed. Traffickers, abusers, predators. He dealt with some of the most depraved, wicked souls. But, people nonetheless. Meaning the police couldn't turn a blind eye to this. It was murder after all. Doesn't matter if they had it coming.
The police department tried to figure out his next move, but he somehow knew all their moves. It was almost like someone was feeding him all their information. They hoped there wasn't a snake in the grass—a person supplying him with all the necessary details he needed to stay untouched and have his getaway prepared.
The guy in question was Simon, but you didn't need to know that. He also didn't need to tell you that his intel was unknowingly coming straight from the police chief's daughter, you.
"I just don't understand why he came back so out of the blue." You sigh, rubbing your tired eyes with the back of your hand.
"I'm not sure." He supplied as he gently massaged your hip with his hand.
"I mean, theoretically speaking, if he would have just laid low for the rest of the year and part of next, the captain would have told us that we needed to "start allocating our resources to other cases with activity and leads." You say, picking your hands up quickly to make quotation marks. "And the case would grow cold and start collecting dust. It would almost be like he'd be getting away scot-free."
"Maybe it's not about that." He plainly stated, bringing his hand to pull his jacket that was lying in your lap, up around your chest.
"About what?" You questioned, looking up at him.
"Not gettin' caught." You tilted your head. "Look." He started. "I know guys like him. I've worked with guys like him."
"Murderers?" You bluntly said.
"Somethin' like that." He breathes out. "But, my point is that the guy isn't doin' this to stroke his ego or see how far he can go before he gets caught. I think it's because he wants justice."
"Justice?" You repeated.
"Justice." He affirms, nodding his head.
"How is murdering people justice?" You skeptically question.
"I'm not sayin' I agree with the guy. I'm just tellin' you what I think." He says.
Simon knows he shouldn't be going in-depth on the guy's thoughts, AKA him. It was stupid and reckless. You could get suspicious as to why he was being defensive of a murderer. But, he wasn't too concerned with you reading too much into what he was saying because, as of late, your mind has been consumed with your own thoughts.
"It's gettin' late. We should be headin' inside. Ya?" You nodded as he stood and extended his hand for you to grab. You reached your hand up, and his fingers tenderly wrapped around yours.
Simon led you to his room. You made your way to his bed and fell onto it stomach first, letting out a deep sigh. Simon let out a laugh. "Comfortable. Huh?" He questioned, slipping his shirt off.
"It's always comfortable." You said as you breathed in the scent of the clean linen laundry detergent he used. "I'm glad. I'm just gonna' take a shower. You'll be okay?" He asked as he stripped himself of his sweatpants.
"Simon, it's like one a.m." You turn over on your back, eyes wandering over Simon's abdomen. "Was sweatin' " He clarified as he ducked under the doorway to the bathroom, connecting to his room.
You stole glances into the bathroom since the son of a bitch left the door open. He peeled off his underwear, revealing his cock before stepping into the shower, obscuring your view.
You lay there for a whole five minutes before the scent of Simon's body wash lingered into his room, filling your nostrils. You stood up and stripped yourself of your clothes, until you were completely naked.
Simon faced towards the showerhead, one hand on the wall, the other wiping away the water streaming onto his face. You stepped into the bathroom doorway and slowly opened the shower door, bringing your hands up to wrap around his abdomen.
"Finally decided to join me. Huh?" He turned to face you, letting his hand run up your back before threading it through your damp hair while the other slid down your back, landing just above your ass.
"Didn't want you to be lonely." You smirked, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his pec.
"Is that what it was?" He titled his head, before bringing it down to your lips to engulf them with his. It started gentle and tender, but it became hungrier when you nipped his bottom lip with your teeth.
He pulled you closer before he lightly pinched your ass, making you yelp. He used the opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth. His hands roamed your body, eventually settling on your breast, giving it a gentle squeeze, electing another moan from you.
"Simon, I need you." You pant as you cling to his neck for stability.
"Where do you need me?" His voice was barely above a whisper. The roughness of it made you even wetter than you already were. His hand slid down the dip of your cleavage, slowly down to where you ached.
"Where, sweetheart?" Your voice went dry, as he slid his hand over your cunt, making you squirm. "Is this where you want me?" He teased, leaning into your neck, leaving sloppy wet kisses on it, as his hand rubbed soft circles on your clit.
"Right there!" You finally let out, voice hoarse. Simon picks one of your legs up to wrap around his waist so that he can see you more clearly. Your eyes are closed as he shoves his middle finger into you, grazing your sweet spot.
You open your eyes briefly to see Simon's staring into yours. Your face reddens, and you raise one arm to cover your eyes in embarrassment. "Don't go shy on me now." He gruffs as he pulls your arm down, covering your eyes.
"I wanna' see all of you." You stare back at him as he introduces another one of his fingers into you. You throw your head back at the contact and tightly grip his bicep. "Fuck, Simon." You moan.
"Feel good?" He seductively asks as he finds your clit again and rubs it. You swiftly nod your head as you feel a knot tightening in your lower stomach, signaling your climax is near.
"You wanna come?" He pauses before bending down so his mouth is hovering over your ear. "Ask me nicely."
"Please, Simon." You instantly say. "Let me come." You beg.
With that, Simon picks up his pace, and soon enough, you come all over his fingers, with his name on the tip of your tongue. He holds your body up as you steadily come off your high.
Simon and you end up washing up, with you helping him sud up his hair and him helping wash your back and ass, per his request. After washing up and having another quick makeout session, you both step out of the shower and put on fresh clothes.
"Where are you going?" You questioned as Simon slipped on his shoes.
"Gotta' go check on Johnny's dog. Forgot to earlier." He said as he laced his shoes.
"Why do I always have to share you with him?" You joke as you settle into the bed. He laughs as he walks over to you and kisses you on the top of the head. "Be back in thirty." You nod, and he heads out the door. You end up almost immediately lulling off to sleep after he leaves.
You didn't question how odd it was that Simon forgot to check on Johnny's dog all day and waited until two a.m. No, because he never gave you a reason to question his whereabouts.
How unfortunate that you would be walking into the office tomorrow morning to see that yet another body was found, this time of a child predator, being reported on the small television you found your colleagues surrounding.
Must be a coincidence.
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taglist: @callsign-artemis @yuenity @sceletaflores @starsofang @chonkaydonkay @gowno1wysrane @harpsinfinity @bleached-punk @babygirl-riley @yyiikes @IMASLUTFORFICTIONALMEN @contractedcriteria @lunars-somehow-alive @theloneshadow24 @minihotdog @mrs-marc-spector @wwwbabygirlcom < finally got some of the @s to work😋
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Moment of Weakness (2) / Aaron Hotchner
(He's so pretty)
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU!Reader
Summary: The aftermath to the incident in Hotch's office.
Warnings: Typical Criminal minds topics (bombings), rushed and not proofread. Not really a happy ending...
A/N: I wrote a part 2 since so many wonderful people asked. Not sure if I liked it and I got too carried away, oops!
(Read Part 1 Here)
After the incident in Hotch's office you weren't sure that you could face the man again. You felt like you only made his situation worse, which was never your intention.
You had just got caught up in the moment. You had had a crush on Hotch just after your third case with the team. It had taken a toll on you and Hotch offered to drive you home.
And when he parked outside, you just sat there, taking more of his time but he didn't care. He talked to you for what felt like ages, about the case, the team, Jack and Haley...and the crush steadily turned into a quiet pining.
You kept it to yourself of course. You never told anyone, and you obviously did a great job of hiding it because no one suspected a thing. Not even Hotch, which killed you but you'd never ruin a family like that.
You heard how he spoke of Haley and Jack that night over a year ago now and if anything, you were happy that he was happy. Until his confession in his office last night.
JJ pulls you out of your thoughts, "we've got a case. Two bombings in the last 24 hours. We're leaving in 10 minutes, we'll debrief on the jet."
You take the file from her and look it over before grabbing your go bag and heading for the jet.
You were the last but one on which made you frown, "where's Hotch?"
Rossi looked over to you, "personal day. He'll meet us there when he can."
You didn't hear much after that. Your thoughts racing with all sorts of possibilities and hoping none of it was because of you. The guilt sitting in your stomach like a stone.
By the time Hotch caught up to the team, you were all gathered in the precinct talking to Garcia.
Everyone paused the conversation to fill Hotch in. The thinking was a high school student getting revenge. There was at least one victim from every explosion linked to the same school. The others just got caught in the crossfire.
"If that's the case then we need to talk to the parents and close friends of the ones who died and see if anyone had a grudge against them", Hotch says.
"I'll go back to the Denvers and talk to them since I've only just left. They had a son die in the second explosion and the brother may know something. " You jump in straight after Hotch, eager to go back to the family you were trying to help through this.
He shakes his head, "no, you stay here with Reid and try and figure out where he might strike next. Prentiss and Morgan go to the Jason's. Rossi and I will go to the Denvers while JJ handles the media coverage."
Everyone springs into action but you step forward, "you're benching me?"
Hotch turns back to you sharply, "stay here and work the profile with Reid."
"I'm the one that should talk to the Denvers, I've already built rapport" your voice rising.
"Stay here at the station with Reid. That's an order." Hotch turns away and stalks out the office with everyone else giving you sympathetic looks on their way out.
You and Reid work the case. Rossi calls not long after they left saying the Denvers were on the way to a memorial service put on for families of the second explosion but they couldn't say whether anyone held a grudge against their son.
Then Morgan calls, "okay, Jessica Lambert said that Danny Denvers is the one that gets picked on the most at school."
You perk up, "wait, Danny? As in, Tommy Denvers brother who died in the explosion?"
"Yeah, and Jessica also said that Tommy would join in on the bullying so that he could fit in."
You look to Reid in horror, "I thought he was so withdrawn because his brother had just died, not because..."
Reid voices the conclusion you just came to, "Danny Denvers is our unsub."
You pull your phone out and dial Hotch on instinct.
"What?" He answers.
And you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes, "the Denvers, you said they were going to a memorial service, was Danny going with them?"
"No, they said he wasn't feeling well. Why?"
"Danny Denvers is the unsub. He got bullied at school and even by his own brother, Tommy."
You hear the car spin around as Hotch says, "we'll go back to the house. Tell Morgan and Prentiss to head to the school. Stay at the station."
And he was gone before you could protest.
After telling Morgan where to go, you stare at the board in front of you.
Reid asks, "what's wrong?"
You shrug, "something doesn't feel right. If Danny wanted to blow up the school he could have just gone this morning. Instead he stayed back."
Reid scrunches his nose, "okay, so what's your point?"
You think back to your time at the Denver house and it clicks. You call Garcia, "hello Mr and Mrs Genius, how can I help you?"
"Garcia, the Denvers said they were going to a memorial service today. Can you tell me where it is?"
You hear the typing before she answers, "I just sent the address to your phone."
"Thanks", you say as you rush to grab car keys from the desk.
"Hotch said you had to stay at the station." Reid says, phone already in hand.
"I'm the closest and I'm not going to be benched because Hotch can't get his head out of his ass."
You race to the funeral home, stepping out of the car and scanning the area for any signs of the service amongst the gravestones.
Your phone vibrates in your pocket like its been doing the whole drive here. You answer to Hotch's booming voice, "do not go in without back up or bomb squad."
You shake your head despite him not being able to see, "bomb squad won't get here in time."
You keep scanning as he replies, "I mean it. Don't approach on your own. Danny profiles like a-"
You cut him off as your eyes land on the scene you were looking for, "a suicide bomber."
You see him with a crudely made vest and a trigger in hand as he screams at his parents.
You take off towards them, phone still to your ear as you say, "Hotch. I'm sorry." Hoping he can hear everything you really want to say.
You hang up and draw your gun as you dodge the people fleeing. You call out, "Danny! Remember me? Is it okay if we talk?"
"I don't want to talk to you. I want them to listen." His wild eyes looking to his parents.
"I know they never listened to you. I know they always put Tommy first, even when he was the one bullying you." You step closer to the Denvers, trying to draw his attention away from them.
Tears stream down his face, "I never did anything wrong! Tommy was the one going to parties and staying out past curfew and he was still the favourite!"
"So you decided to teach them all a lesson?"
He looks to you as sirens wail closer and closer, "well someone had to! No one was going to save me from them so I had to do it myself!"
You finally step in front of the Denvers blocking his view, "and I think you taught the lesson well. Now everyone knows."
You see Rossi and Hotch coming towards you as you gesture the Denvers to go towards them.
Danny watches his parents go with surprising calm as you say, "just give me the trigger so you can tell everyone your story."
With eyes still on his parents he mumbles, "they'll never get it."
You hear Hotch call your name as Danny takes his finger off the trigger.
You dive for cover, landing in the 6ft hole meant for the casket. You feel your body slam into the ground, losing consciousness before help arrives.
When you come to, it's mostly a blur. The hospital checked you over and after some arguing, they agreed to let you go as long as you got checked out back home.
The jet ride back was quiet and once it landed everyone went their separate ways. Except Hotch.
"I'd like to drive you home, if I may?" He asks.
You shake your head, "nah, I'm good. I can wait to hear the riot act on Monday."
Hotch places his hand on your forearm so gently you can barely feel it, "please?"
You stare at each other for a few moments until you finally agree.
Once you're on the road Hotch says, "what you did was reckless."
He says it with a soft voice which is somehow so much worse than if he just yelled at you.
You loved his voice, you loved the comfort he exudes even when he's angry but right now you wanted to be anywhere but here.
"Hotch, please..."
But he continues, "and while it was incredibly reckless, I have to say I owe you an apology."
Your mouth pops open as you turn to look at the man behind the wheel.
He sighs, "if I didn't have my head up my ass, I wouldn't have benched you and made you feel the need to run into danger on your own."
You feel heat rise to your cheeks, "you heard that, huh?"
Hotch shrugs, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, "Reid had already dialled my number when you said it."
Silence descends again until he parks up outside your apartment.
"I'm also sorry for the things I've said."
You stare out the window when you reply, "when?"
Hotch parrots your question with more confusion, "when?"
"Which time? You've been a dick to me ever since that night. It took the both of us to make that mistake. And the funny thing is you're not even angry at me, you're angry at yourself and you're taking it out on me and I don't deserve that."
"You're right, you don't. You deserve so much more. I realised that I could have lost you and...I'm not sure I'm ready to look into why that's terrified me so much. And I know I don't have a right to ask this but I would like it if you waited."
You study his profile, not quite understanding what he's going through but wanting to all the same.
He looks to you and the vulnerability you see laid bare in his eyes takes your breath away, "Me and haley are going through a divorce and a part of me will always love her. Things will be messy for a while but I'd like to take you to dinner...maybe when things calm down, if you'll let me?"
You're not really sure what to say. You've wanted Aaron Hotchner to ask you out for a long time. You've wanted him for even longer. But this isn't how you imagined that would go.
You knew things would be complicated with Haley and you knew he'd always love her in some way and it didn't bother you. But the timing of it all made you feel more like a consolation prize than someone he truly wants.
You reach your palm out until it makes contact with his cheek, you thumb stroking the dark circles underneath his eyes.
"I've been in love with you for a long time, Aaron Hotchner. And all I've ever wanted is for you to be happy. And those two things have been in conflict ever since."
His eyes take on a glassy tint as his hand covers your one on his face. He understands what you're saying but you say it anyway.
"I don't think I'm what you need to make that happen right now. And I don't know if I'll ever be that or if I can wait that long for you to figure it out."
You give Hotch a sad smile, dropping your hand and exiting the car. Each step further away from him, makes your chest ache. And you wonder if you'll always carry that ache wherever you go.
A/n: I guess I'm feeling angsty lately but hope you enjoyed all the same!!
#aaron hotchner#criminal minds#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotch fanfiction#aaron hotch hotchner#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotchner x you#criminal minds fic#hotch x you
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« I'M THE ONE YOU ALWAYS NEED. »
CONCEPT; MORTEFI X F!READER . YOU WENT TO HIM TO ASK HIM TO INVENT SOMETHING.
TOPICS/WARNINGS; USING TOYS . QUICK ORAL (F!RECEIVING) . ATP IDK . NGL THIS FEELS LIKE A DRABBLE . P IN V . PROBABLY OOC
IM PLAYING WUTHERING WAVES AND IM IN LOVE W SO MANY OF THEM N R PLANNING SOME FICS 💞 also should i start writing on ao3 hehe
WORD COUNT; 1.5K
"hey..." you voiced awkwardly as you tapped your knuckles at his open office door, catching his attention. "yes, do you need anything?" he asks, turning towards you and putting down his tablet. you walk into the office nervously, "you said i could ask you if i needed anything made, right?" you questioned, averting your gaze and looking around the room. "yes... i did say that." he looks at you, crossing his arms as he observed your anxious expression. you gulped quietly, swallowing your pride as you really can't seem to find anyone that sells these things... "have you ever made a..."
his eyes widen slightly at your inquiry, a replica of male genitalia? he clears his throat, holding up his fist to his mouth as he took a few moments to think before speaking up, "well no but... i couldn't say that anyone ever asked either." he turns back around to his desk and sends the current hologram he's working on into his drafts before starting a new project, "so... can you?" you asked for reassurance, tilting your head to get a view of the hologram.
he turns to you, leaning on his desk as he looks down at you with rested eyes, you could feel that you've definitely piqued his interest with your 'invention idea.' "have you ever considered just finding someone to be able to..." his voice lowers, "-use the real thing?" he leans down just a bit, but enough for you to get what he's insinuating. "well sure, in a way." you answered, your voice tensing up.
"oh really?" he retreats back, bringing up his hand to push his glasses back, "which person have you thought of?" he interrogated, seemingly trying to pry a certain answer out of you. you look away, staying silent for a few moments he breaks the silence with a small sigh, "well, it's understandable if you wish to not answer. but, i'll try to make that for you. expect it by the end of the day."
he sure works quick. a relieved exhale, even though embarassment still ran through your body, huffs out of your lips as he turns back to his desk. "t-thank you." you stammer nervously as you swiftly made your way out without exchanging any last words with the red haired researcher.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
as you were just getting ready to leave the laboratory, you hear a certain voice call out from behind you. you turn to see a familiar figure with gold-rimmed glasses—mortefi, and he was holding a paper bag.
you feel heat rise to your face as you remember what you just asked of him. "here's what you requested." he walks over to you, holding up the bag as his tablet rested within his other hand. "oh... you really made one." your hands trembled slightly as you took the bag, feeling shame wash over you. "oh, and sorry if it might not be to your best liking, i used... my own as a slight reference." he said as he closed his eyes for a few moments before looking back up at you.
shock runs through you for a few moments before you smiled awkwardly at him, "oh- okay. thanks a lot though!" you tried to force an enthusiastic answer, failing miserable as your voice cracked a bit. "well then, i guess it's time to head home and have fun, no?" he said rather coldly, and with a straight face as he eyed you. well that felt rather insulting. you laughed sheepishly as you clenched onto the paper bag.
you thought about it for a while, if it's like his... why not just use the actual reference?
"sir... have you ever bothered doing these things with someone?" you asked, making the tension even more unbearable and uncomfortable. his eyes narrowed as he looked at you, certain conclusions and thoughts already being formed in his head. "yes, in a way." he answered, seemingly mocking your words from earlier. "then..." you took a small breath, "would you mind using this with me?" your voice shakes as your grip on the bag tightens.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
well fuck.
he now knelt in between your thighs, with your legs over his shoulders, taking in your most sensitive parts as you sat over his desk. "i suppose we need to make your body ready first, right?" he voiced hoarsely, how is he doing this with a stern and cold expression? you swallow a breath as you looked at his calm gaze, "y-yes." you stuttered in a failed attempt to seem composed.
he took off his glasses, and placing it on his cold table before placing a warm, wet kiss onto your core, making your body shiver. you looked down at him as he strategically worked his mouth around you. he held onto your thighs, keeping you stable as his tongue gently worked around your folds, preparing your body and riling up it's appetite. your legs lock his head within your thighs, pulling him closer to your pussy. "mm..." he groaned out, making him frown a bit though he didn't really... dislike it.
"sorry..." you mumbled quietly, loosening your grip as he pulls back, and getting back up "it's very much okay and reasonable." he assures as he reaches for the bag and takes out it's contents. you shift your gaze to what's now in his hands, he used his own as reference?! it was lengthy, and he brought it down to your already wet cunt. "are you ready?" he asked, positioning the dildo against your drooling pussy, "yes." you whined quietly, looking down at the silicone toy.
"alright, i'm gonna do it slowly, okay?" he assured, his voice was low as he slowly pushed it in, starting with the tip. he kept his attention down towards your hole, observing the way it clenched desperately around the fake cock. he clenched his jaw as he slowly pushed it further, earning him a small moan from you as he felt his pants tighten. well shit.
he notices the now growing bulge in his pants as he pushes the entire thing into you gently, "is it okay?" he asks, looking back up at your now pleasure-washed face. it turned him even more. "absolutely..." you responded breathily as you looked down to see his aching cock hiding under the fabric of his pants. "i'll move it now." he thrusted the toy in and out slowly, hearing the wet noises as your pussy resisted against the movement.
he groans, feeling extremely jealous of the silicone figure within his hands. you moaned at the sensation electrifying you, shooting shots of pleasure into your veins as his hands sped up. your body shook as he started to get rougher, now slamming it into you as a knot formed quickly within your core.
"i-i'm getting close..." you mewled out as your legs instinctively closed themselves, and your back arching as his hand kept themselves on your hip to keep you stable. you cry out as you feel the pleasure wash over you, that knot breaking apart as you feel warm liquid spill out of your pussy, making your legs weak. "ah..." he muttered as he slowly pulled it out, feeling the fabric encasing his own heat now tighten even more as it hurts.
you look down at it, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you look up at him, "better if it's the real thing, no?" you said with a dazed laugh as you wrap your legs around his waist. "is this permission?" he asks with eager eyes as he put the dildo aside and his hands slowly undid his pants. "mhm..." you hummed, and even though you just finished, you felt excited for the real thing.
he laughed quietly as he let his pants fall a bit, revealing his twitching dick. it was desperate for your gaping hole, the way it squeezed on the dildo made him all frustrated for some reason. he wanted to feel it for himself. "i'm sorry, dear, i can't wait." he apologizes before pushing himself slowly but firmly into you. he groans at the feeling, your walls tightened against him and sending his body into euphoria as he feels his control over his body slowly dissipate.
you let out a staggered breath, though the smile returns to your lips as you find it in you to make some teasing remarks. "feels good, doesn't it?" you whisper as your hand moves up to cradle his face. "yes..." he says huskily as he couldn't find the strength to move. "what's wrong? why can't you move?" you voiced rather condescendingly as you start to circle your hips against him.
he frowns as his body twitches at your motion, with his grip on your waist deepening. you feel his fingers dig into your soft skin, making you feel a bit confident of your skills. mortefi hisses through his teeth as he slowly started to move, his length leaving your insides empty for a few moments before burying himself back inside you.
a small cry escapes your lips as you feel his cock fill your empty hole, and your body reacts as if it was running on desire. you reach for his back, your arms travel down his waist, stopping just at the hill of his hips. you push him further into you as sounds of pleasure quickly filled the room, echoing through the empty walls. you're both so lucky that everybody's gone.
you claw at his clothes, feeling as if you were ripping the white fabric apart, you whine out his name as you feel that familiar feeling boil up within your body. and you were sure he could feel it too. "are you close?" you asked breathily as his pace started to speed up, rougher, and harder. "so... tight." he frowns as he ravishes in the pleasure, letting it devour him as he continues to ram himself into you.
"i'm so close-" he scowls, his other hand roaming the skin of your stomach as he takes in the view under him. your vision slowly fades to white as you feel your mind go blank, losing your control over your body as you feel that sensation shatter, sending shards of pleasure all across your body. your body uncontrollably trembles under his touch as he pulls out swiftly with a groan and pressing his dick against your cunt, grinding into his climax.
you feel a sticky, warm liquid spill across your stomach and the soft plush of your pussy.
okay it's all up to u now guys 🤑
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#wuthering waves#mortefi#mortefi x reader#wuthering waves x reader#fanfic#x reader#smut#[💮] SIA.#[📝] sia.#f!reader#female reader#ooc#out of character.
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Love at first Sight / Steve Harrington x Winchester!Sister
Summary: The reader, as the younger sister of the Winchesters, moves to Hawkins to investigate a hunt after losing contact with their father, John. Unbeknownst to them, Hawkins harbors dark secrets, particularly when a certain boy rescues them from the monsters.
ps: This is my longest story to date, and I had so much fun writing it. I hope you enjoy it just as much! Since English isn't my first language, I apologize for any minor grammar errors.
word count; 6ks.
tag list ; @figurantedefilme
“Father, hasn’t come back.”
Dean’s words reiterate in your mind as you sat in the passenger seat. Sam, your twin, understood the potential consequences of bringing you along. You vividly recalled his argument about the test you had the next morning, how he had done everything possible to support your decision not to get involved. The thought of dragging their little sister, on the brink of graduating high school, into family matters made him troubled. "And where exactly is the location?" he asked, struggling to conceal his irritation while casting worried glances in your direction.
Dean understood he had no alternative. If given the opportunity, there was no doubt he would have ventured alone. However, giving John's unequivocal instructions left no room for debate on the matter. When family, particularly your father, was concerned, it was imperative for everyone to participate, regardless of their preferences. Dean's grasp on the steering wheel tightened as he disclosed the destination you were bound for.
“Hawkins.”
Hawkins was nothing like Kansas. After an eight-hour drive with multiple stops, your brothers took turns at the wheel. For once, you all agreed that your father should be immensely grateful when you finally rescued him, especially given the uncertainty about where to start. It wasn't until you checked into a motel near Hawkins that the research on the haunting began in earnest.
Dean had gone to buy some food while Sam and you continued your search. The sun had set, giving way to the shimmering stars of the night. One of the things you couldn't help but admire about Hawkins was the luminous presence of its own scenery. You were stargazing from your motel window when you heard the door creak open and Sam's voice, poised to relay any information about your father's whereabouts. But it was Dean who spoke first, interrupting Sam's rambling about anything he could find useful. "So, you're telling me there are no official records, just a stupid student article about the incident that happened, what, a year ago? When it all started with a boy going missing?"
"Maybe we should ask for the chief," you suggested, recalling the man around your father's age whom your brothers had seen at the gas station an hour earlier. One who could definitely be a source of information. However, your brothers dismissed the notion, unwilling to involve others. "No, no, no," Dean said, pulling food from the plastic bag and placing it on the table. Sam, still engrossed in his laptop, grabbed the first item his hand found. "The one thing we definitely can't do is involve the cops, especially the sheriff."
And he was right, much as you hated to admit it. Dealing with the cops had never been your brother's strongest suits. Recalling numerous numerous arrests, all tied to their hunting activities, with your father or Bobby often being the one to bail them out.
"I think I found something," Sam said, capturing your attention. Dean snatching the laptop from him, causing Sam to roll his eyes and start munching on his sandwich. "Demogorgon, really?" Dean said, almost offended by the article. What struck him, though, was how off the situation felt with the missing boy and the lab in Hawkins.
"I don't know, man. Don't look at me like that. Just read further," Sam insisted as Dean tried to process the information. Despite their extensive hunting experience, from Wendigo's to the King of Hell, Dean was on the verge of dismissing the student article entirely. This seemed like a stretch even for them.
"And you're telling me Dad went missing because of a half-man, half-creature that feeds on human powers?" Dean asked incredulously. Sam chuckled at his brother's disbelief and nodded. "That's what the article says," he confirmed, though Dean remained unconvinced. He needed more evidence, which meant by morning they will have to start questioning anyone around Hawkins. "Tomorrow, first thing. If the rumors are true, and as much as I hate to admit. Dad might be the creature's next snack anytime soon."
The next morning in Hawkins, you and your brothers headed to the nearest diner. Unlike other places you'd visited, Hawkins had a surprising calmness to it. You were particularly excited to visit the DVD store that had caught your eye, likely the only other place of interest besides the arcade. You always made a point to bring something back from each mission—a habit your brothers found odd yet endearing.
"Please," you begged Dean as the three of you walked into the diner. He rolled his eyes as you all sat down and ordered the usual breakfast: two coffees and an orange juice for you. "What do you even need at a DVD store?" he asked. "Maybe it could also be a good excuse for you and Sam to investigate," you replied with a hint of amusement. Your brothers exchanged a glance and thanked the waitress as she brought the food. "She isn't wrong, you know," Sam agreed, seeing the potential in the idea. "And if it makes Y/N feel at home..."
"Fine," Dean finally conceded with a sigh. "But after that, we're heading to the trailer park." He insisted, knowing it was one of the areas where the creature had reportedly lingered and the last place your father was apparently seen.
"Robin, I told you, the last time I flirted with a woman, I couldn't even avoid making her cringe," Steve sighed as he brought the DVD tray to restock returns. Behind the counter, Robin mentally tallied her best friend's countless failures, a smile playing on her lips. “I call dibs on the next client.” As she noticed three silhouettes entering the store, her attention shifted entirely to them. "Welcome!" she greeted them, her tone ambiguous enough to make it unclear whether she enjoyed her job or not. "May I help you?"
Your brother wore an expression of determination. Sam, ever the polite one, smiled first and quickly refocused on their primary mission: finding your father. "We just need a few pieces of information," he said, presenting their fake FBI cards. You leaned forward, peeking between your brothers. Immediately catching Steve's attention. Outside, Max and Billy, being new in town, added to the unusual sight of newcomers, especially at this time of year. Steve couldn't help but admire this in awe. "I'll go look for a souvenir. Don't wait for me," you said, glancing at them one last time before heading off.
"Alright, Chipmunk, just don't take long," Dean replied, prompting you to roll your eyes. Steve noted the nickname, remembering it all too well. As you made your way toward the shelves of tapes, Steve remained with your brothers, soon summoned by Robin.
"It's about their father," Robin had filled Steve in on the situation. Wherever their father was, it didn't sound promising, especially with everything happening—the Demogorgon, Vecna—anything could be connected. Observing Dean's expression shift from annoyance to complete shock, as Sam realized that dismissing the student article might have been their first mistake.
"So... you're saying you fought one of them?" Sam directed his question to Steve. Usually, Steve couldn't resist a bit of ego-boosting, but the serious expression on Dean's face and his repeated glances in your direction, ensuring you wouldn't make a mess, made Steve reconsider. Perhaps setting aside the flirting was the wisest choice. Thus, he simply nodded. "Yes, thanks to Dustin, who obtained the information initially. Even the police are clueless about what's truly occurring."
The Winchester brothers exchanged glances. "Dustin?" they asked simultaneously. Steve nodded in confirmation. "Yes, and not just Dustin. We also have El, who possesses superpowers. She's been instrumental, but given your father's disappearance, someone would have found his body by now or—" Steve hesitated, unwilling to entertain darker possibilities, especially after their experience in the Upside Down. He shared a concerned look with Robin, who shrugged, considering various scenarios. "Wait—let me just process all of this," Dean interjected, taking a step back. Robin offered him a seat at the counter, which he gratefully accepted as he attempted to piece everything together.
"So, let me get this straight: first, this kid Will goes missing, then you guys run into some Demo-whatever-the-hell-it's-called, and now there's this girl with random powers who was held captive in a lab by some Vecna creep?" Dean recalled how vague his father had been on the phone the previous night, mentioning he'd be at some sort of lab. The thought worried him, prompting Sam to give his brother a concerned look. "Are you okay?" Sam inquired. Dean hummed a yes and locked eyes with Steve, who swallowed nervously. Despite only meeting briefly that day, something about your older brother made Steve fidgety. Dean paused momentarily, then retrieved an article from his back pocket and placed it on the counter. Steve immediately recognized Nancy's handwriting.
"Not to sound arrogant, but that's your source?" Steve gestured towards the paper, blinking twice. While Nancy's article was informative, she had to simplify and spice it up to attract readers for her publication, not to mention keep the whole Upside Down ordeal a secret. Steve distinctly recalled her mentioning that. However, he hadn't anticipated it would attract a group of hunters brandishing fake FBI badges. Despite his reservations, he refrained from commenting on it. "Also," he added, indicating their badges, "this whole fake badge charade doesn't fool us. We've already dealt with the Russians trying that stunt," he remarked smugly. Just as you arrived with a stack of DVDs, you couldn't help but laugh. "See? I told you those FBI badges were outdated."
Sam's lips curved into a playful smile as he observed your reaction. Despite disliking that you were traveling with them and missing out on a normal life outside of hunting, it was gratifying to see you interacting with people your age. Your formal demeanor while conversing with Steve, who nodded in response to your comment, was refreshing, as were the small interactions you shared with Robin. "Cash?" Steve inquired next, prompting an eager nod from you as Dean stepped in to pay. "But I have enough!" you protested, pouting adorably—a sight that Steve found strangely endearing. He snapped back to reality as your brother impatiently waited for him to retrieve the cash. "Want-Want the receipt?" Steve asked stuttering slightly, to which your brother shook his head. As the three of you prepared to leave the store, thanking the two employees one last time, Dean paused, causing Sam and you to exchange a curious glance. Dean clearly had something in mind.
"Can we arrange a meeting spot?" he inquired. Steve and Robin shared a glance, aware that the next day they would be assisting Dustin in searching for his friend Eddie. It appeared to be an ideal opportunity, particularly since your brothers intended to explore Hawkins' forest as well. "Skull Rock?" the younger boy proposed. Neither your brothers nor you were aware that you would have more company than anticipated. Dean hesitated, but upon seeing your radiant expression as you held the stack of DVDs you had purchased, you spoke up on their behalf before he could respond. "We'll be there!"
Steve's prediction proved accurate. The following morning arrived, and he remained uncertain whether you would indeed appear, let alone bring your brothers along. The previous night, after interviewing numerous locals, you had practically pleaded with them to join, convinced it was an excellent idea. Considering your father's tendencies, initiating the search in the forest seemed logical. "If this is because of that Steve boy again," Dean interjected with disdain evident in his tone, prompting you to roll your eyes. "It has nothing to do with him! Besides, he's taken down one of these creatures before. I'd sooner trust a DVD seller than a random sheriff at this point." You made a valid argument, and upon witnessing the resolve in your expression, Sam concurred, "She's got a point." With a sigh, Dean drummed his fingers on the steering wheel before starting the engine without another word and directing the car toward Skull Rock.
"So who are we waiting for exactly?" Dustin inquired impatiently, observing Steve's restless pacing. "And what's with the sudden nerves?" Robin teased with a smirk. "It's Y/N." "Y/N?" Steve spoke your name, almost offended. "Oh, so you know her name?" Robin enjoyed Steve's irritation and couldn't resist teasing him further. "She mentioned it before they departed, in case you were paying attention, lover boy."
"They?" Dustin regarded the two adults before him, clearly perplexed by the situation and the strangers they had involved. "Her father vanished, and her brothers, who are apparently hunters, were dispatched here. We're just hoping we don't stumble upon their father's lifeless body along the way," Steve explained. He hadn't intended to sound so severe, but his nerves had taken over, leading him to adopt a touch of sarcasm. His confidence faltered as he heard your brother's voice drawing nearer. "Y/N, this is nonsense. We should've contacted Castiel."
"Yes, but remember, Castiel's at the hospital right now. He needs the rest," you reminded them, recalling the events of the last hunt. "Come on, grumpy old man," you added, grabbing Dean's arm, eliciting a whine from him, while Sam chuckled, enjoying the moment. As your eyes met Robin’s, you waved at her. "Robin!"
Robin was the first to notice your arrival and approached you with a hug. You were introduced to Dustin, whom they described as the clever one, and who had some knowledge about the creatures and your father's potential whereabouts. Lucky for him, he had mentioned about seeing a man whose description bore a striking resemblance to your father's, which he promptly relayed to Dean. "So, that's how you stumbled upon this entire Russian trap?" you inquired. They all nodded in agreement, but their conversation was interrupted as Eddie emerged from his hiding spot, causing you to startle slightly.
"Dustin, you rascal," Eddie's voice reverberated in your thoughts. Amidst the chaos of your missing father and the onslaught of curses from Max and Eddie, whom you had only just met, Eddie extended his hand to shake yours, his fingers lightly brushing against yours as he flashed a smile. "Haven't seen you around before, sweets," he remarked, managing to find humor in the situation despite its gravity, prompting a slight cringe from Steve, who had been the first to encounter you. Yet, you couldn't deny that Eddie exuded a certain charm of his own. "We've been sent on a mission. My father disappeared around here a few days ago, and my brothers, who are hunters, insisted I come," you explained, introducing Dean and Sam to everyone present, including Lucas, Max, and Nancy, all of whom reciprocated with their own introductions.
"And I assume you're familiar with me," the metalhead sighed at his presence, wishing for a more auspicious introduction. You shook your head, seeking confirmation from Robin and then Steve. "Eddie," Steve answered, somewhat irritated. "The 'supposed boy' who was involved in the cheerleader's death?" your brother recited from a news article. But quickly flinched and groaned in discomfort as you took the crumpled article and hit it against his chest. "Good Lord, Y/N, what was that for?" he protested as you gave him a knowing glance.
"Do you get a serial killer vibe from him?" you questioned, coming to Eddie's defense. “It’s alright, Y/N, there’s no need…” Observing the unfolding scene, Steve couldn't help but wish he were in Eddie's position, but circumstances had changed since your meeting with him the day before. Determined to contribute, he spoke up. "Shouldn't we be, you know, taking action instead of just standing around? Especially for their father, Dustin, and everything?"
Dustin briefly glanced at Steve, recognizing that familiar look of jealousy. First, it was with Nancy, and now it seemed directed toward a complete stranger. Amused, Dustin couldn't resist teasing him and feigned ignorance, only serving to make Steve's jealousy even more evident. Meanwhile, you were completely absorbed in Eddie's presence, oblivious to Steve's inner turmoil. Dean, always the vigilant brother, interjected, "Come on, lover boy, no time to waste," playfully tousling your hair as he noticed Steve's uneasy glance. You muttered a few choice words before smoothing down your hair. It was endearing to witness the two men vying for your attention, but it also put Dean, the protective brother, on edge. "Sammy?" he called out, turning to Sam, who was already assisting Dustin in plotting the next course of action. "Ready?"
You, on the other hand, gave a final glance to Eddie, who appeared ready. "Lead the way, sweetheart," you encouraged. The walk proved lengthier than anticipated, and as the sun began to set, the sky revealed the first twinkling stars, a sight you never failed to appreciate. Steve made a point to remain by your side throughout. "Look!" you exclaimed, prompting Steve to recall the way your smile lit up your face. Your observation caused everyone, including your brothers, to pause in their tracks. "The stars seem larger tonight," you remarked in awe. "Are you a fan of astrology?" Eddie inquired, leaning closer to you, and you turned to regard him. "And you?" you countered. He shrugged. "Not particularly, but now that you mention it, Hawkins nights do hold a certain allure, don't they, Steve?"
"Indeed," Steve responded, the faint edge of irritation apparent in his tone. Eddie noticed, recognizing the signs of infatuation, and chose not to press the matter further. "Perhaps," he suggested, "rather than discussing stars, we should direct our attention to..."
An interruption broke the silence—a familiar screech that caused Dustin to halt abruptly, prompting everyone to freeze in place. He listened intently, ensuring it wasn't merely his imagination. "Do you all hear that?" he whispered, the sound growing louder. Your brothers remained nearby, while Steve stood steadfastly by your side. You could have sworn you felt his fingers graze yours, prompting you, out of habit, to reach for his hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. In that moment, he was your knight in shining armor.
Dean swiftly seized the flashlight, his actions quickened by a piercing scream resonating through the air. As you turned to confront the creature lurking in the shadows, a chill of fear gripped you, compounded by the sight of blood dripping from its jaw. Paralyzed, you sensed its menacing presence drawing nearer with each passing second. In the blink of an eye, it lunged towards you. "Y/N!" Steve's urgent voice reverberated in your mind as Dean barked orders at Sam to take the first shot. Yet, the gunfire proved futile against the relentless creature. "Steve!" Robin's frantic shout pierced through the chaos as she tossed him the bat. Everything unfolded too swiftly to comprehend.
Overwhelmed by the sheer presence of the creature, you found your knees giving way, sending you tumbling to the ground. In a swift response, Eddie rushed to your side, offering reassurance in a soothing tone. "It's alright, it's gone," he repeated, his words a steady anchor amidst the chaos. With trembling hands, you instinctively shielded your face, attempting to suppress the rising tide of screams threatening to escape.
Unbeknownst to the group, your father had been silently observing from the shadows all along. With keen interest, he monitored the actions of his two sons and daughter, though the sight of you among them caught him off guard. This situation served as a test, one that Dean might soon recall—it was designed to assess whether the two boys were prepared to tackle cases beyond their usual scope. However, your involvement was an unexpected twist, not part of the original plan. Little did John know, another version of himself had been lurking much closer than anticipated.
Sam was the first to discern John's presence. His disbelief was palpable, tinged with a hint of revulsion at the sight of his father seemingly unscathed, contrary to the myriad theories the three Winchesters had fervently debated in recent days. "Dad? Dad?" Dean's puzzled expression mirrored Sam's confusion, just as Steve swiftly dispatched the Demogorgon with a well-timed blow.
"Boys," John greeted with a smile that felt forced. Max, sensing an underlying unease, found herself growing suspicious. Though not intimately acquainted with the Winchesters' father, her own encounters with flayed individuals had honed her instincts. "Guys," she interjected, attempting to capture Steve's attention, "I have my doubts about him." Steve, casting a brief glance at Hargrove, immediately redirected his focus upon hearing your faint cries, ensuring your well-being as he knelt beside Eddie. Meanwhile, your brothers stood frozen in astonishment at the sight of their impostor father.
"Dean?" Max's voice reverberated in your brother's mind, prompting him to turn towards her. "Yes?" he replied, noting the concern etched on her features. An instinctual feeling swept over him, suggesting that the figure before them wasn't their father. With Sam in close proximity, Dean couldn't resist beckoning him over, yet there was no response. "I don't believe it's your father," Max murmured softly, her words carrying a weight of conviction. "And what leads you to that conclusion?" Dean inquired, though inwardly he harbored similar suspicions. Despite clinging to a glimmer of hope, he remained open to Max's insight. "Do you notice any discrepancies?" Bingo. Dean scrutinized the man masquerading as their father, discerning subtle nuances in his smile, his gaze, and the feigned affection. It became increasingly apparent that whatever entity had taken control was failing miserably at replicating their father's mannerisms.
"I'm relieved to find you all here. I was growing concerned," the voice emanated, its tone unsettling. Max's intuition proved correct. Sensing trouble, Sam moved closer while Dean hastened towards him, their actions synchronized with the abrupt sound of another gunshot. The bullet found its mark, striking the impostor masquerading as John. A sickly green fluid oozed from his mouth, portending imminent danger. His once-human eyes now glowed an eerie white. In a stroke of luck, John had managed to discharge a bullet into his counterfeit form. Sam's eyes widened in horror as he cried out for his father.
Dean's grip tightened on his firearm, grappling with the uncertainty of the situation, questioning the authenticity of the figure before him. John's eyes met yours, a silent challenge conveyed through his gaze. Despite the tension, you managed to steady your breathing, feeling the weight of the moment. With Steve's presence lending you reassurance, you stood your ground, determined to maintain composure amidst the uncertainty.
"Bringing Y/N along, really?" Your father's tone dripped with a mix of disgust and shame, causing Sam to sense the weight of the situation. Understanding the pressure you were under, he rose to stand by your side. Meanwhile, Eddie and Steve, recognizing the need for composure, subtly suggested maintaining distance, hinting at the gravity of family matters. Despite their advice, you clung to their shirts, silently pleading for their support. "Please," your eyes implored. Thus, you, Sam, Eddie, Steve, Max, Lucas, Dustin, Robin, and Nancy maintained a respectful distance, observing the unfolding events.
Dean harbored discontent towards his father's stance on involving you in the discussion. While it had been acknowledged that reaching a certain age would inevitably draw you into the hunting lifestyle, akin to Sam's trajectory, Dean remained disheartened by the prospect. He often cited Sam's own journey, pointing out how it led him to abandon Stanford and commit to hunting full-time. Unlike Dean, Sam advocated for a conventional life for you, one filled with relationships and camaraderie. The time spent in Hawkins only solidified this perspective for you. "She's prepared," Dean asserted, though John's skepticism was evident.
"Y/N, return to the car," your father's voice rang out, commanding attention as all eyes turned towards where you knelt, shaking your head in defiance. "I said, return to the vehicle," he reiterated, employing the same authoritative tone he used on Sam during the vampire hunt. Just as you were about to interject, Sam's figure materialized beside you. Sensing the escalating tension, Steve cautiously ushered Eddie away, allowing space for Sam to intervene.
He knelt beside you, meeting your gaze with familiarity, recognizing the turmoil reflected in your eyes—a familiar sight during conflicts between your father and himself. Understanding the need to address the situation decisively, not only for his own sake but for yours as well, he inquired, "Do you want me to speak to him, instead?"
A silent sob and a nod conveyed everything. "No, Dad," Sam's voice, grave and resonant, shattered the stillness. He reserved that tone for moments of utmost gravity. Dean attempted to interject, "Sam!" but his words fell on deaf ears; Sam had already approached their father. "She's not prepared," Sam asserted, his gaze penetrating the darkness of the night. Towering slightly over their father, he leaned in, exuding an air of palpable tension. "You are the reason she departed in the first place. In any case."
"What did you just say?" John's voice carried the weight of authority, now laced with a menacing undertone aimed at both his son and daughter for their insubordination. "You heard me," Sam retorted unwaveringly, his gaze hovering dangerously close to his father's collar, poised for confrontation. Yet, he refrained from physical action, mindful of the precarious situation in Hawkins. The tension between the two men simmered, with Dean positioned between them, striving to defuse the escalating conflict. "Yes, you left when your brother and I needed you. You chose her over us! Sam! You—"
"And let's not forget, Dad, you're the one who said, 'Don't come back.' You slammed that door shut on her, not me! You were just angry because you couldn't control her anymore!" Dean interjected, seizing his brother's collar to preempt any potential altercation. John, their father, fixed his gaze on you. Sam's accusation hit home. Despite your love for him, the scars from his domineering nature and the dangers of the hunt still haunted you. Was it all to prove a point about strength? Even now, the memories of that day haunted your dreams.
"We're all exhausted," Dean interjected, attempting to diffuse the tension. "Now that we've found you, maybe we can head back to the motel." Sam's expression betrayed his reluctance, but it seemed like the most prudent course of action. With their father located, the Winchesters knew their business in Hawkins was concluded. However, your intentions were different. You had someone else in mind: Steve.
Steve observed the scene with mounting fury. The family conflict played out before him, and seeing you curled up, trying to hide your distress, fueled his anger. He was furious at your father for forcing you into a life you hadn't chosen, for making you feel trapped by the family legacy. Watching your brother stand up for you only deepened his ire. Later that night, while your brothers tried to calm your father. From how you would see him gently caressed your cheek, wiping away any lingering tears, and let you collapse into his arms. Murmuring soothing words such as, "Hey, it’s going to be alright. I’m here." And he meant it. He stayed with you all night, knowing that by tomorrow, you might be gone. Or so he thought.
The following night, you faintly recalled your brothers arguing, their voices rising until they stepped outside to avoid waking you. The hunt had left you drained, but your father's harsh words lingered in your mind. With your eyes closed, feigning sleep, you heard the front door of the motel room creak open. Your father entered and knelt beside you, gently brushing the hair from your face. The look on his face, one you couldn't forget, made you wonder if Sam had managed to get through to him. "I am so sorry..." he murmured softly.
His voice was hoarse from crying. Whatever they had discussed was more significant than you had imagined, affecting not just you but Sam as well. As his twin, you had always stood by his side, through thick and thin. Your father, recognizing this bond, finally broke the silence, "If you want to go to college," he said, his voice laden with emotion, "then you can. I love you."
He hadn't wanted to wake you, but his genuine words stirred you. You couldn't help but lean in and wrap your arm around his waist just as he was about to leave. Initially thinking you were asleep, his eyes widened in surprise, then softened as he smiled and returned your embrace. When your brothers returned with food, Sam smiled but refrained from teasing, not wanting to embarrass you. "Dinner?" he asked simply, the warmth of the moment lingering in the air.
Your father glanced at you as you wiped away the last of your dried tears. Nodding, you joined the three men at the dinner table. As you ate, your thoughts drifted to Steve and the longing to see him one last time. "I know we're leaving tomorrow, but..." you began, cheeks flushing. Dean, catching on immediately, spoke through a mouthful of sandwich, "The lover boy?" He raised an eyebrow. Both Sam and your father chuckled, with your father raising an eyebrow in mock confusion. "Who?" he asked, though he clearly knew. "Steve," you murmured, so softly that your family made you repeat it. "Who?" they echoed, smirking. "Steve! Alright, jeez. Anyway, I have to return my DVDs anyway."
Dean rolled his eyes, even though he was notoriously inept when it came to romance. Seeing you with someone, especially someone like Steve, was undeniably endearing. He knew Steve was a good guy—after all, he had helped a complete stranger in the woods, which had led to more than just uncovering their father's disappearance. Now they knew their dad had been flayed. While Dean hated the idea of leaving so soon, he understood that helping Hawkins was necessary. And if it meant you could spend a little more time with Steve, he didn’t mind at all. "You know," he said in a suggestive tone, "I talked with this Dustin kid..."
You met your brother's gaze, eyebrows furrowed, sensing he was onto something significant. "Spill," Sam demanded.
"Well, I also talked to Dad," Dean began. "We discovered something more sinister lurking beneath Hawkins. They need all the help they can get, so I offered our assistance. We’ll be staying a few days to start our search." Your eyes widened in shock and joy as you processed your brother's words. This meant you might be staying for weeks, even months, given the seriousness of the Upside Down situation. And it also meant more time with Steve. “So, we’re staying?” you asked, excitement evident in your voice. Dean nodded with a smile, ruffling your hair. "Don't get too excited, Chipmunk. But yes, and Dad is joining in."
You couldn't be more grateful, and as the three of you settled into bed that night, only one thought occupied your mind: Steve.
The next morning, your brothers and father decided to eat at the nearest café in Hawkins. Over breakfast, you managed to gather more information: one piece related to Max's curse and another concerning Eddie's possible connection to Chrissy's murder, a name you learned only afterward. “And I thought vampires were bad,” you quipped, eliciting chuckles from your brothers. Given your extensive hunting records and those of your brothers and father, it was evident that this situation in Hawkins was unlike anything you had faced before.
After breakfast, while your family was investigating with Dustin's help, you decided to visit the store. Steve was nowhere to be found, so you gently placed the DVDs on the counter and waited. As time passed, your patience waned. With a sigh, you left the DVDs and some cash on the table, resigning yourself to the thought that Steve might already be thinking of someone else, perhaps even kissing another girl. Just as you were about to leave, a familiar voice called out, “Y/N! So sorry, it was my break shift. I didn’t–”
Your face brightened at his presence, a wave of relief washing over you for not considering his break earlier. You watched him clumsily put on his vest and walk toward you for a hug. “You okay?” he asked, releasing you and focusing entirely on you, his eyes filled with affection. You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. “Yes, we finally managed to talk it out with my father,” you murmured, still processing the emotional weight of the conversation.
Steve's concern was palpable, but relief washed over his face as you spoke. “Also,” he added, a smile spreading across his lips, “I heard you’ll be staying here for a while, huh?” His teasing tone made you roll your eyes, but you couldn’t help but smile, nodding your head and murmuring a soft, “Mhm.”
"Yep, my brothers insisted on helping as much as they can," you said, appreciating their unwavering support, even in the gravest situations. It was one of the many reasons you wanted to join their hunts; balancing college and hunting didn't seem so daunting after all. "This means seeing your face all day," you added with a teasing pout, trying to feign offense. Steve's chuckle and eye roll, however, told you he saw right through your playful act.
"Ouch, I am hurt," he said sarcastically, stepping closer. It was now or never, he thought. If he waited another day, another week, who knew when he'd get another chance to express his feelings. "You know," his voice became slightly hoarse as his eyes roamed over your face and body. His fingers gently brushed your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his. Up close, you realized how striking Steve's eyes were—something you'd have to get used to. "I don't have anything planned for tonight," he purred, making you tilt your head in feigned innocence. You knew Steve had something in mind, even if he wasn't saying it outright.
"I was thinking of inviting you over for a movie night at my place. I'll cover the pizza," he offered, his words causing your cheeks to warm. While you felt the urge to inform your brothers, you decided to wait until later, until you were at Steve's house. "Alright, lover boy," you said, using the nickname your brother had coined for him. Steve grunted and rolled his eyes, dismissing the teasing. "So, tonight at 8, Chipmunk?" he added with a smirk, to which you responded with a playful glare.
"Eight o'clock it is," you agreed. Just as you felt the warmth of Steve's proximity, the door swung open. In walked Dustin, Max, Eddie, and your brothers. Dean, unable to resist, was the first to comment. "Alright, lovebirds, we've got some research to do. If you want my sister by eight, we need to get started immediately."
"Dean!" you protested, turning to face your brother with a glare. He smirked and followed Dustin to the DVD computer, while Steve protested for more carefulness. As everyone crowded around the screen, Sam approached you, leaving the two of you momentarily alone. "You know," he said with a genuine smile, "if you want to go to college—" You shook your head. Despite your father’s agreement, you couldn’t leave your family behind; you loved them too much. "No, I really think I'm ready," you replied. Sam raised an eyebrow, taken aback but relieved, and wrapped one arm around you in a quick hug.
"Then let’s kill this thing," Sam said, and you nodded, following him. Who would have thought that a place you initially hoped would hold clues about your father's whereabouts would also be where you'd find friends and someone to count on—Steve Harrington. "You okay?" Steve murmured as you joined him, noticing your brief discussion with Sam. "Yes, I am," you replied with a smile, feeling his hand gently squeeze yours. "I just can’t wait for tonight as well," you confessed, and you could have sworn you saw Steve's cheeks warm at your comment, which you found adorably endearing. He leaned in to press a kiss on your cheek, returning the favor.
"I am too," he said.
#supernatural x reader#supernatural preferences#supernatural imagines#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x reader#sam winchester x reader#winchester sister#dean winchester x sister!reader#sam winchester x sister!reader#john winchester#steve harrintong imagines#steve harrington x reader#joey keery#stranger things imagine#stranger things x reader#jared padalecki x reader#jensen ackles x reader#sam winchester fanfiction#crossover#spn fanfic#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader
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♕ No Matter What - Part 7 | Lena Luthor ♕
Pairing: Lena Luthor x reader
Warnings: mentions of some shooting, throwing up, blood and death
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11
________________________________________________
I get up with shaking hands, watching Lena as she begins pacing.
“Who is he?” she snaps. “Your boyfriend?!”
I flinch and take a step back. Not only am I completely taken aback by her sudden lack of trust, I’m also fragile because of the reminder of what day it is tomorrow.
“Lena— What? No! He’s not my boyfriend,” I defend quietly, my voice wavering. I swallow to get rid of the growing lump in my throat, but it just makes it worse.
Lena whips around and stares me down with a harsh glare. “No? Then who is he and why did you try to hide it when his name popped up on your phone?”
I open my mouth to reply, but the words get stuck in my throat. What has gotten into her? She has no right to attack me like this. Not when I haven’t given her a single reason not to trust me.
Scoffing when I don’t answered, she aggressively runs a hand through her hair. “That’s what I thought. My God, I should have never listened to Sam. You’re just like everyone else. A lying, cheating—“
“He’s my brother!” I blurt out weakly, every word she just said breaking my heart. My knees are weak and it’s taking everything in me not to break down crying right now.
Lena pauses and raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “Nice try. You told me you don’t have any siblings. Honestly, I don’t know how I let this whole thing between us get this far.”
I feel my bottom lip tremble and avert my eyes to the ground. Why is she being so cruel? I clench my fists and work my jaw as Lena goes on berating me.
“And to make up a brother. . . You really are something else. You know, if it weren’t for your contract I’d fire you on the spot.”
A tear rolls down my cheek and I lift a trembling hand to wipe it away. I don’t say anything and just stare at the floor, waiting for Lena to continue.
She doesn’t go on however and when I dare to glance at her I find her watching me incredulously.
“Why are you cry—?”
“I am not making him up,” I say sternly which seems to surprise her. She opens her mouth to say something, but I cut her off again. “And I wasn’t lying when I said I don’t have any siblings because he’s dead.”
Lena’s eyes widen.
“It’s the anniversary of his death tomorrow and I was planning on leaving some flowers on his grave, hence the reminder. And I didn’t want you to see because I’m not ready to talk about what happened yet.” I grab my bag from next to the couch and sling it over my shoulder, too hurt to even acknowledge the regret on Lena’s face. “Now, I know you can’t fire me, but I can quit, so don’t worry. You’ll have my letter of resignation on your desk by tomorrow morning.“
“Y/N, that’s not what I— I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. . . Please don’t—“
I hold up a hand and shake my head with a stray tear rolling down my cheek. “No, don’t worry about it, Ms. Luthor. I should probably get going now if I am to accompany you to the office later.”
Lena looks close to tears as well now, but I don’t give her a chance to say anything else as I brush past her, leaving without turning back.
How everything could go this wrong this quickly is a mystery to me.
It makes my heart ache and part of me is screaming at me to turn back and forgive Lena for jumping to conclusions. The other part however, the one that is irreversibly hurt by what just happened, is telling me to leave, which is what I ultimately do.
Maybe Lena was right. Things shouldn’t have gone as far as they did between us. I am, after all, just her bodyguard.
A year ago– Somewhere overseas. . .
“Christ I’m sweating like a pig,” Noah grumbles, pulling at the collar of his uniform.
We’re standing outside in the blazing sun, guarding the locals as they unload the truck of supplies we brought them. It’s a day like any other and for weeks now nothing out of the ordinary has happened.
“Yeah? Well, stop fretting, you’re only making it worse,” I scold lightheartedly as I shift the gun in my arms. It is hot, yes, but Noah is being a baby about it.
Harper snickers beside me and Noah sends her a dirty look. “You two are unbelievable,” he says with an eye roll, however when he turns his attention back to the locals I see a faint smile on his lips.
Harper beams and shoves me playfully. I smile and return the gesture.
That’s when one of the locals approaches me. “We’ve finished unloading the truck. Thank you again for all your help.” He stretched out his hand and I shake it with a polite nod.
“You’re welcome. Is there anything else we can—?”
The sound of screeching breaks makes me whip my head around and my eyes widen at the sight of an old truck that has come to a stop in a cloud of dust.
Several men, armed with guns jump off the back of it and before I can call out any orders, they open fire on me and my squad.
“Get down!” I shout, pulling the local behind a stack of rice bags. “Miller, radio for help!”
Harper and Noah join me while the rest of the squad finds shelter behind our truck.
Bullets whiz past us everywhere and the panicked screams of the locals make my stomach flip.
Stay calm! I remind myself, gripping my gun until my knuckles are white. Panic will get you killed.
“Miller?” I shout again as I peak over the bags, returning some of the fire before ducking back down. “Miller, where are you? Jones? Martinez!”
There’s no answer and knowing what that means, I clench my jaw and force away the burning feeling behind my eyes.
“What do we do?” Harper shouts next to me as she reloads her gun. “We’re trapped.”
Miller was the only one in the squad with a radio because for weeks now everything’s been calm and some superiors decided the extra radios should go to the squad’s that actually fight the rebels, not the ones doing supply runs.
“There’s a radio in the truck!” I remember, but the chances of getting to it without being hit are slim to none.
I have to do something though, so I grab Noah by the collar and pull him closer so he can hear me over the gunfire. “You two, cover me!” I shout, ignoring the way his and Harper’s eyes widen in terror.
“No! You can’t—!” he begins to protests but I tighten my grip on his uniform which shuts him up.
“I can and I will! I’m your superior officer and I’m not losing anyone else today, you hear me?!”
Noah has tears in his eyes, but he nods nonetheless. I turn to Harper to find her with the same, horror filled eyes.
“Do you hear me?” I ask again, swallowing the fear that’s bubbling up in the back of my throat.
“Yes, Sergeant!” They reply in unison and I take a deep breath before counting down.
“Alright, on three. One, two, three!” I jump up, gun at the ready, and move to leap over the bags of rice.
As soon as I get to my feet though, I’m knocked back by something hitting my shoulder. I cry out in pain and fall back down, clutching at where I’ve been hit.
One of the rebels must have waited for one of us to show themselves…
“Y/N!” Harper screeches, pressing her hand down on my chest a little below my shoulder. “Fuck!”
The local who’s frozen in place, pales at the sight of my blood and throws up right in his lap and if it weren’t for our current circumstances I would have gagged at the sight.
This can’t be how it ends!
I grit my teeth and shove Harper’s hand away. “I’m fine. We have to try again. We need to get to that radio!”
I try to get a hold of my gun again but as soon as I move, a jolt of pain shoots through me and I fall back with a pained whimper.
It’s enough for Harper to press her hand against my shoulder again, pinning me down with a warning look. “You can’t do this. You’re losing to much blood. We’ll have to think of something else.”
I shake my head and fidget with the clasp of my helmet. It feels like the strap is strangling me, but I know better than to take it off.
“There’s no time, Harper! Just let me—!”
“I’ll do it.”
I turn my head to find Noah watching us with a blank stare. I’ve never seen him like this and I know whatever he’s thinking can’t be good.
“I’ll do it,” he says again and that’s when I realize what he means.
“You will do no such thing!” I say sternly as he goes to return some of the fire before ducking back down.
“But we need backup!” he argues and I watch as a bead of sweat drips from the tip of his nose.
It really is hot today, isn’t it?
“You’re not going out there, Private. That is an order!” I wince when Harper applies more pressure to my shoulder.
“I can’t just let you die!” Noah screams and he reloads his gun with newfound determination. “I’m going to get that radio and call for backup!”
I grab his arm and yank him back down just as he’s about to get up. “No, you are not! You’re staying right here. We’ll think of something else.”
Noah’s eyes meet mine and for a moment the gunfire around us is muted. He smiles apologetically and takes the hand I have on his arms into his own.
I’m sorry, he mouths and before I can stop him again he’s escaped my grasp.
“Noah!”
Present– National City. . .
After showering and getting ready for the day, I make my way back to Lena’s apartment building where I wait for her by the front desk after shoving my bike into the janitors closet.
Ann tries to strike up a conversation as soon as her eyes land on me, but when my replies come out somewhat clipped, she lets it go.
I honestly don’t know what I’m feeling right now. Earlier I was hurt and angry, but now I’m not really feeling anything.
I will do my job as professionally as I can and have my resignation letter on Lena’s desk by tomorrow morning, just like she wanted.
I am still worried about Lex coming after her, but she’s made it clear what she thinks of me and I can’t do my job if she doesn’t trust me.
When the elevator doors open and Lena steps out, her eyes dart around until they land on me. She relaxes visibly and approaches quickly with regret and worry written all over her face.
“Y/N, I’m sorry about earlier. I should have never said what I said and I don’t want you to—“
I shake my head and square my shoulders, trying my best to sound professional when I say, “Don’t apologize, Ms. Luthor. You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I’m just here to do my job.”
Lena deflates and she frowns sorrowfully. “Y/N, please. . . I didn’t mean—“
I check my watch and clear my throat, cutting her off once again. “We should get going if you don’t want to be late for your interview with Ms. Danvers.”
Lena’s bottom lip trembles and I have to dig my nails into the palm of my hand to stop myself from rushing forward to comfort her.
Her words cut unimaginably deep earlier and I can’t forgive her for it just yet. Or ever. I haven’t made my mind up about it yet because all I can think about is Noah and Harper who tried calling me again just before I got here.
“Alright then,” Lena gives in with a dejected sigh.
We go outside where Alfred is already waiting in the car. I open the rear–passenger door and wait until Lena gets in. Then I close it, ignoring the hurt in her eyes when I opt to sit in front with Alfred, rather than in the back with her like I normally do.
The interview with Kara had gone well, as far as I could tell when Lena hugged the blonde goodbye with a genuine smile. That smile, however, faded when her eyes met mine briefly and she quickly disappeared into her office again, leaving me outside with Jess who was busy at her computer.
And that’s where I’m still at right now, reading a news article on my phone while Lena’s in her office with Sam who decided to show up ten minutes ago.
Upon seeing me, she instantly knew something was wrong, but I just waved her off when I could feel Lena watching us from the doorway to her office.
She didn’t say anything but sent me a look that made it clear we were going to talk about what was going on as soon as we were alone.
“You did what?!”
Sam’s shriek makes me flinch and I can’t help but move a little closer to the closed office door. Jess isn’t at her desk because she went out to get coffee, so I don’t have to worry about getting caught eavesdropping.
“I know, I messed up pretty badly.” Lenas muffled voice sounds like she’s genuinely sorry and I know for a fact that they’re talking about what happened this morning.
“You think?” Sam retorts sarcastically. “God, Lena. . . What is wrong with you?“
“I don’t know, Sam!” Lena sounds desperate and it makes my heart ache involuntarily. “I just— I’ve been burned so many times before and Jack—“
“Y/N is not Jack though,” Sam cuts in and it’s quiet for a moment.
Then Lena mumbles what sounds like, “I know. . .” followed by a “What am I supposed to do now?”
I sigh and move away from the door again. What they’re talking about is none of my business even though they’re taking about me.
It also doesn’t help that I wouldn’t be able to answer that question myself. What could Lena possibly do to undo what she did this morning?
I honestly don’t know and before I can lend that question any more thought, my phone starts ringing.
I glance at the screen to see that it’s Harper again.
I roll my eyes with half a mind to decline the call, but then I think better of it and reluctantly answer with a strained, “What do you want, Harper?”
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I’m not all too happy with how this part turned out, but I’m not in the mood to rewrite it. Proofreading (like always) will be done over the course of the next couple of days.
Anyway, I just wanted to let you guys know that I love your comments and that I read every single one of them even though I don’t reply to all of them <3
Tag list: @nuianced-tck-enby @autorasexy
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Butterfingers - Ch. 2
Melissa Schemmenti x Futch Mechanic!Reader
A/N: no beta, but this is a shorter chappy but it's filler for big things i promise!!!! let me know how u like this one :3 enjoi!!!!
warnings: nada
chapter 1 here
tags: @10gay-keysmash01
Wandering through the halls of the school, you took your time– meandering about from machine to machine, checking stock. Nothing seemed to be amiss aside from a minor repair on the primary hallway vending machine. The thing seemed to have a busted display panel, so users wouldn’t know what they were picking, fate deciding whether or not their corn nuts would be barbeque or ranch.
As you unscrewed the punch pad’s panel, you thought about your giant duffel bag carrying a cartel-sized amount of snacks for the teacher’s lounge.
A small chuckle escaped your lips at the thought, something amused you about the idea of a bunch of adults wanting candy and Cheetos. In a way, you found it wholesome. There was absolutely nothing wrong with it, you thought. It made sense, they were around kids all the time– and kids had some of the best snacking inventory out of all of humanity.
The sound of a familiar voice ripped you from your thoughts,”Hey new guy! What tech-centric genius IT thing are ya doin’ over there?”
Janine jogged over to you, (miraculously) out of breath in the four hurried steps she had just taken. Your eyes glimmered with the question.
You were always something of a teacher. Loving to teach, and more than that, loving to see people learn new things. There was something so satisfying about seeing the gears turn, before clicking things into place and watching a machine whir to life just as it should.
“Oh! It’s nothing too serious, actually. The LCD here seems to be busted, so it’s just a matter of getting a replacement part and plugging these little wires back in right here.” You gestured to the small 5 pin wires needed to connect the screen to the rest of the vending machine.
Janine nodded, clearly not entirely there. She seemed to be looking around for something, and her eyes lit up as soon as she (assumedly) found that thing…or person, rather.
You didn’t mind the dismissal from Janine– you knew your interests were boring to most, or just too complex for people to care about much. Rifling through your repair bag, you opened a large plastic container with multiple small compartments. Various pin wires, replacement nuts and bolts, and most importantly, a small handful of packaged LCD screens sat in the different compartments.
Taking one out of its plastic, you stuck the container back in your bag, before looking over to Janine, only to see that she was waving down the fiery headed teacher from the day before. She was approaching rather quickly, alarmingly so, actually– how on Earth did a woman so petite move so damn fast?!
Brushing aside your unnerved feelings for the mach one woman racing towards you, you turned back to the pin holders still sticking out of the machine, connecting the red and blue wires, before going to connect the black and yellow ones.
“What is it, Janine?” The woman grunted, seemingly annoyed she had to detour. “I’m boutta’ to be late for class, and so are you, kid. Whaddya even doin’ over here– oh.”
The older woman’s gaze went from the beaming young teacher, to your face, before darting away.
“Yeah uh. Hey.” She muttered, shifting uncomfortably from one heel onto the other. Something in you crumbled at her reaction to your presence. Did she really not like you? Maybe it was just because it was early morning…that’s what you told yourself to calm your rising anxieties.
Smiling in response, you let out a little hum in greeting, before turning back to your work.
Melissa clutched her jacket tighter around herself. You noticed she used it like her shield. Something hardened and tough to protect her, maybe? You didn’t have time to speculate– Janine hopped up, patting you on the shoulder and jogging off to class.
“See you, y/n! Glad to see you’re settling nicely!” Janine yelled as she rounded a corner, disappearing.
“Oh- uhm! Bye!” You called after, turning to the machine, before looking over at Melissa, who stood there– seeming to hover, as if waiting for something.
You looked up into those prying green eyes, lips pursing tight as you thought of what to say.
Looking down to your duffel of snacks, you suddenly realized what she was likely waiting for. Grabbing the grey bag with one hand, you lifted the bag while standing up. Melissa followed your gaze, having to crane her neck to see your eyes.
“Sorry about that, I totally thought you were waiting to talk to me– you probably want this, right?” You asked sheepishly, opening a compartment in the duffel, and handing her a small Butterfingers. The bright yellow packaging gleamed in the fluorescent light of the halls.
Melissa’s brows knitted, an unreadable expression crossing her features before she smiled small.
“Oh...thanks, hon.” She sighed, seeming almost disappointed. You cracked a smile at this, knowing she would’ve wanted more than just the one piece of candy.
“I’m messing with you, red. I have this for you.” With a swift motion, you grabbed a quart sized Ziploc bag full of the glimmering yellow and blue candy.
The redhead’s eyes bugged out to the size of dinner plates at your grand display.
“Holy fuckin’-- damn it, you really didn’t hafta do all this! When I said some, I meant a few. Do you know what a few looks like?”
Your features lit up with a nearly face splitting grin,”Several, right? Which is more than two, but not many, but many is a lot, and this is only a quart size. So by definition, you could say this is a few, isn’t it?”
Melissa’s eyes rolled so hard they almost fell right out of her head, a smile threatening to spill onto her features.
She gave a small laugh, and the sound had you grinning even harder, somehow. You presented the bag to her with two hands, the duffel half open on one arm, your tool belt on your other arm, and your repair bag hanging off of your wrist. You looked absolutely insane, but something about that fact seemed to endear Melissa.
She carefully took the bag, cheeks puffing out with how surprisingly hefty the bag was. “In any case, you’re absolutely insane n’ I think you’re crazy for this.” She chuckled halfheartedly, her features hardening to a level of genuine sincerity. “Thank ya, though…really. No one’s ever really done…this for me. Get me my favorite candy n’ what not. So. Yeah. Thanks..”
Before you could say anything back, Melissa turned on her heel and sped off (at that alarmingly fast speedwalk). You let a small puff of air out of your nose, something like a laugh. But you’d never laugh at Melissa Schemmenti. She wasn’t someone to be laughed at. Turning back to the LCD you’d been fixing, you plugged in the remaining connectors, before screwing the panel back on and plugging the machine back in.
As expected, the screen flickered to life. You nodded to yourself, before standing up and heading to the teacher’s lounge.
–
Melissa settled into her classroom while the kids went about writing their daily plans and writing prompt for the morning. Looking at the bag sitting in her lower left drawer, she noticed something sticking out of the mound of Butterfingers she’d recently come into possession of. Opening the bag, she grabbed the slip of paper, unfolding it carefully.
Hey Red,
Hope you don’t hate me for my clumsy introduction. Found these fresh from the factory for you.
Enjoy!
y/n
Melissa’s lips parted, before she quickly crumpled the note and tossed it into the trash. She couldn’t do this, not again.
Not another repairman, not another relationship.
But if you were a woman, did that make it different?
#abbott elementary#abbott elementary fic#melissa schemmenti x reader#melissa schemmenti fic#melissa schemmenti#lisa ann walter#melissa schemmenti x y/n#butterfingers fic
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Shadow and Sin: Chapter 2
Elijah Mikaelson x Female Reader
Summary: Having just moved to New Orleans, you get intimately acquainted with both Mikaelson brothers, but don't find out who they truly are until it's too late.
This Chapter: Looking for information on Klaus, you find your brother in the library and run into another handsome stranger.
Warnings: Sexual Tension, Dark Themes, Dante's Inferno, The Phantom of the Opera, Literary References, Delicate Touches
Word Count: 2k+
You spent the next few days staring at the number written on your palm, the name ‘Klaus’ scribbled beneath it as the ink slowly began to fade with each wash. Putting the number into your phone for safe keeping, you continually fought the urge to call him and take him up on his tantalizingly generous offer. Just to be safe, though, you asked your brother to look up any information he could find on this playboy billionaire philanthropist, but he wasn’t answering his phone, which wasn’t like him. This either meant that he was buried in casework, that he was purposefully ignoring you, or something way worse.
You decide to go to the library and check his most likely location.
“Shit, sorry.” Austin looks at his phone to see your three missed calls and four text messages after uncovering it from his scattered papers on the library’s study desk. “I should have told you I couldn’t make it to your art show the other day, but Allan’s really kicking my ass with this one.” Your brother hurriedly takes the cup of coffee that you brought him, the bags beneath his eyes growing darker by the minute. “I really do plan on going to see it, I promise I will as soon as this case is over.”
Law school had really put your brother through the ringer, draining him of the light that used to shine bright within him. He’d said that once school was over, things would be better, but you’ll believe it when you see it.
“No, I get it. I just wanted to make sure you were okay when you didn’t respond. And you know what they say: ‘It can be pretty dangerous in the city after dark’.” You nudge him in the side, repeating one of his favorite phrases back to him in a mocking tone.
“Hey, I mean it when I say that!” He shouts in a defensive whisper, taking a sip of coffee with a grateful sigh. “If only I could show you half of the stuff I see at work without getting fired, I would…”
“I know, you’re just looking after me.” You ruffle his hair affectionately as you assess his messy work station. “You hungry or what?”
He rifles through his papers as if he’s lost something very near and dear to him, the crinkling sound seeming to drive him even more insane than anything. “Give me… forty-five minutes and we can get something to eat? Thai food?” He looks up at you, exasperated by the state of his workload.
“Fine,” you roll your eyes. “Forty-five minutes, and not a minute more!”
You turn away and leave him to his madness, silently exiting the most boring part of the library, walking through the science fiction and mystery sections in order to get to your favorite part; the horror section. You stroll through the alphabetized authors of terror, skimming past dozens of Stephen King novels before pulling out one of your favorites that had inspired a handful of adaptations over the years, all of them successfully paying it due homage. You’ve read it more times than you can even count, having collected a slew of copies of it at home, but none of them like this.
You admire the intricate cover of the hardback, smiling at the familiar sight of the white mask and red rose before tucking the tome lovingly into your chest. Knowing that the next forty-five minutes will surely fly by now, you turn down the aisle to find a quiet place to read, only to bump into a man you hadn’t seen there before.
He’s dressed in a three piece suit seemingly cut out of shadow and sin as an ancient aura surrounds him, almost as if he were as old as the city itself. His face, in turn, is just as timeless, reminding you of the old black and white Cary Grant movies you used to watch with your grandmother before she passed. Only he’s here now in living color, and it takes everything you have just to stop staring as a chill runs down your spine.
“Sorry,” you whisper shakily.
“Apologies are all mine,” his voice is deep and refined as he steps into your space, carefully placing the book back in its spot directly in front of you. “I wouldn’t want to create more work for the librarian.”
“This coming from someone reading Dante’s Inferno?” You finally say to break your awkward silence, noticing the famous title as he pushes it all the way in. “That’s a pretty heavy read for a Thursday night.”
He smiles with a low chuckle, eyes black as night glancing down at you before he deflects the attention away from himself. “And the Phantom of the Opera is such a light hearted story.”
“I find it comforting and romantic.” You defend the book in your arms with a grin.
“Is that so?” He tilts his head, taking the book from you without a hint of remorse before tracing the raised letters on the cover, almost as if to memorize the feel of them. “Two lovers obsessing over one incredibly talented beautiful woman? One driven mad with obsessive infatuation while the other truly has her best interest at heart?”
“So, you’ve read it?” You joke, noting the underlying bitterness in his tone despite his charming smile. This story’s personal to him, just like it is for you.
“Several times, yes.” He turns toward you, flicking through the pages as if he’s able to read them at superhuman speed. “Leroux really did know how to set the scene, didn’t he? A beautiful French city always seems to make it easier to fall in love.”
“Is that a fact?” You attempt to play it cool as he speaks so fondly of one of your favorite authors, drawing you in a little closer as he speaks.
“It’s a common literary device used in countless classics throughout the centuries, but I’m sure you already knew that.” He pauses, the dim lighting of the library making his dark eyes seem less imposing, almost sparkling as they look you over before scanning through the pages one more time. “Or maybe it’s the drama you prefer, the constant danger, the countless brushes with death that make you feel more alive than ever? Making the romance that much more palpable than if it were against any other monotonous backdrop?”
Jesus, is it written all over your face that you like a little bit of darkness with your romance? Is there a sign on your forehead that reads… What did the other man call you? Ah yes, ‘morbidly disturbed’? Was it so glaringly evident that you moved to this city to relish in the black magic you’ve heard so much about? Or maybe everyone else here is just as crazy as you are, no matter how elegant and put together they may seem.
“A little bit of both.” You decide to lean into the madness, slowly brushing your fingertips over his hand in order to catch him off guard just long enough to take your book back from him. “But what fun is romance without any stakes? It doesn’t make for a very good story, now does it?”
“I suppose not.” He smiles, the skin around his eyes wrinkling as he stares at you, warming you to the idea of opening up a little bit more.
“Or maybe there’s something to say about someone who is so in love that they’re willing to fight for it, willing to kill for that other person because they can’t imagine a world without it, without them.”
He raises his eyebrows as he considers your words, visibly tensing up as he clears his throat and shifts the weight in his hips. “The Phantom doesn’t kill for Christine, he kills despite her. It’s who he is at his very core before he even gets involved with her. He’s a ghost, a phantom, a monster.”
“A monster capable of love and empathy after he’s finally shown that in return.” You counter, now unsure if you came away with the correct message from the book.
“Ah, a truly hopeless romantic.” He grins, licking his lips before speaking again. “I didn’t think they still existed.” His eyes rake over your entire frame, taking in every inch of you as he allows the following silence to remain between you, hovering around you both in a heavy fog as the weight of it nearly takes your breath away.
“But enough about me,” you laugh nervously, changing the subject as you feel your cheeks begin to redden beneath his gaze. “What draws a man like you to The Divine Comedy? Are you the religious type, or are you just trying to figure out which circle of hell you’re doomed to spend eternity in?”
“Oh I already know that answer too well, I’m afraid.” He lets out a long sigh before leaning against the bookshelf. “But Dante’s work can be studied from a more worldly perspective on how the justice system deems their punishments worthy of someone’s crimes.”
“So you’re a lawyer like my brother. That explains the suit.”
He smirks again with a shake of his head, clearly amused by your failed attempt to figure him out.
“Well, a professor certainly wouldn’t get paid enough to wear a jacket or watch as nice as yours, so I think that Dante would place you in the… fourth circle, if memory serves me correctly.”
“A hoarder of wealth? Is that what you think of me?” He laughs, stepping in just close enough so that his smoky scent of cedarwood swims around the both of you, pairing perfectly with the musk of the leather bound books beside you. “And what other assumptions have you already made based on my appearance, young lady?”
Young lady?! Uh oh. Your eyes widen, the muscles in your abdomen tightening as his term of endearment triggers your brain to start trickling oxytocin into your bloodstream.
His answer, however, gives you pause, forcing your eyes to narrow as you take in everything about him. He’s not a lawyer or a professor, but he certainly carries himself like someone of equal or higher importance, like an executive of some major company that you know nothing about. He’s a mystery cloaked in a seductively elegant darkness, and you can’t help but want to get wrapped up in it.
“I ummm…” you trail off, fearing that the dim lighting is doing little to hide the deepening flush of your cheeks right about now. This man is way out of your league, and it’s only a matter of time before he realizes that you’re in uncharted territory.
“Well, as long as we’re going off of first impressions, I’d say you would fall into the first circle with the Greek philosophers… if you qualify at all.” Those onyx eyes seem fixated on you still, dropping down to your neck and chest before glancing back up at your face, spreading that blush up into your ears.
“The virtuous unbaptized?” You try not to laugh, wondering how it was possible that the man yesterday had thought you to be such a dark and tortured soul, while this one paints you as some sort of angel. They were both wrong in their own way, a single thread of truth holding each of their ideals together. “That’s very kind of you, but I’m afraid that the second circle is where my most devious nature starts and stops,” you confess, feeling your heart race as he closes the gap between you.
“The sins of the flesh.” He smirks, clenching his jaw before delicately touching the spine of your book. “Unsurprising. I assume that a beautiful woman such as yourself is provided ample opportunities to get you into trouble there.”
“You assume correctly.” You let your mind wander about what he looks like underneath all those expensive clothes as he leans in further, the top of your book now pressing against his tie as his fingertips graze the back of your knuckles, forcing the hair on the back of your hand to stand on end.
“Alright, I’m done!” Your brother interrupts your conversation as he walks down the aisle, his messy work bag barely hanging off his shoulder when he spots your new friend. “Who the hell is this?”
The man gives you a somber look before clasping both of his hands over yours, finally looking up to address your brother. “Forgive me, it seems that I’ve lost my manners, I’m Elijah.”
#elijah mikaelson#daniel gillies#the originals#the vampire diaries#elijah mikaelson x reader#elijah mikaelson fanfic#niklaus mikaelson#klaus mikaelson#joseph morgan
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♡ bloodstream
pairing: boxer!jungkook x bookworm!reader
warnings: language, pet names, little blood, fingering, clit stim, aftercare, vaginal sex, cum shooting, not proofread
listen to: stateless - bloodstream
It wasn't such a bad day...
You go to the library and pick up a few books then you head to the gym where Jungkook was. You usually meet him there once you're both done with work.
You sit and read, waiting for him to finish so you can go home with him. You two rented a nice apartment not too long ago after high school.
He pays rent and you take care of the bills. You both pitch in for grocery shopping and stuff. You both get home around nine at night, never really home during the week days.
You sit on the floor by the benches, reading your books and taking notes; sticking small sticky notes on the pages you tab.
Jungkook continues to train, damaging his fists with each punch he gives the bag banging from the ceiling.
He grunts and pants, sweating all over himself. His shirt soaked and your eyes wandered to his abs. They were outlined by the white shirt he was wearing and you could hardly snap out of your state.
He chuckled, "like what you see babe?"
"What?" You look up to him, seeing him stop what he's doing. He just caught you looking at him...not the first time it's happened but it's just as embarrassing each time.
"Caught you looking again..." He walks to you and bends over a little. He grasped the back of your neck gently and pulled you in towards him, kissing you on the forehead.
You giggle, "ew, you're all sweaty."
"I thought you liked that." He laughed as he pulled away, using the towel that was around his neck to wipe the pooling sweat on his face.
"We should get home. It's pretty late." You stand up and place your book in your tote bag.
Jungkook smiles and nods, "getting hungry?"
"Yeah, I didn't eat all day." You sigh, "but I'll make something yummy."
Jungkook grabs the rest of your things and walks you to the car. He drives you back to the apartment and helps you in. He can't help but notice how you smell...it's new.
Once you both got inside it began to rain outside and you were relieved you got home when you did. You love the rain, just hate getting wet.
"Okay. I'm getting in the shower. Need any help with dinner?" He walked to the hall and turned to look at you.
You shake your head, "no, I'm okay."
Jungkook walked into the bathroom and you heard the door shut. You immediately got ready to cook; getting a pan out, putting some nice chopped vegetables inside to cook.
Dinner wasn't too bad tonight. You just can't seem to find anything appealing at the moment.
You cook for a while, getting some plates out to serve. Once you had placed the plate down on the counter, Jungkook came around the corner, ruffling his hair with a towel.
"This looks amazing baby." He walks towards you and gives you a kiss.
You smile, "thank you. I made it just for you."
You both ate dinner and did a load of dishes together. Jungkook always offers to do so, but he works so much harder than you.
You always take over when it comes to house chores, he just couldn't be away from you.
He wraps his arms around your waist as you scrub the dishes, kissing the back of your neck as he pushes your hair to the side.
"So pretty..." He mutters between kisses.
You nudge your elbow into his chest, "go get the bed ready."
"So feisty." He scoffs, giving you one last kiss before going off to the bedroom. He took the throw pillows off the bed and pulled the comforter out from under the other pillows, adjusting them so they're comfortable.
Once you finish the load of dishes you head off to the bedroom to see Jungkook taking off his shirt. Your cheeks flush red and you wonder if you should be looking...
"Babe?" You ask for him, seeing him turn around. "Can I talk to you?"
"Sure sweetie. What's the matter?" He sits on the edge of the bed and looks at you with those big black eyes.
You sigh, "this is embarrassing but I wanted to talk about taking the next step."
"You mean...sex?" He asked.
You nod, feeling embarrassed. He sees this but he understands. He knows you're a virgin and scared shitless.
"Baby, if you're ready. Then I'll help you take that next step." He stands up and walks to you, pulling you gently by your arm.
He nuzzles his nose into your neck, kissing the area to calm you down, swaying you back and forth, he didn’t want to move at a pace that made you feel uncomfortable. He made sure to go slow.
“Just relax for a minute, love.” He kissed your forehead and gently rubbed your lower back with his soft hand.
You hum, “I’m nervous.”
“Hey, no. It’s okay. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” He kissed your lips, letting you think for a moment.
You didn’t answer and he didn’t want it to seem like he was pushing you to do this. He was trying so hard not to touch you in anyway he thought you wouldn’t like.
“Here.” He spoke, breaking the silence. He gently put your hand over his right peck, letting your palm rest against it. “Feel my heartbeat. Just focus on that.”
You stood there, your face snuggled in his neck. He rocked you once more, helping you feel more calm and relaxed. He knew what you wanted. You were just too scared.
“Mm, it’s beating fast.” You whisper.
He smiles, stroking you hair. “Because of you.”
You smile, pulling away. You can see the gentleness in his eyes. How content he was. He was so pretty, so sweet and gentle with you.
“I wanna try.” You mutter.
He looks at you, a little socked. He wasn’t against it. He just wasn’t sure about it. He didn’t want you to get scared again.
“Okay.” He answered you, “we can try.”
Soon he gently took off your clothes, keeping his eyes on you as he did. He slipped off your shirt, your pants and your bra next. He kissed your lips as he helped you take off your underwear. He didn’t look down for a second.
He pulled back, seeing your shy form. He saw your arms fold over your chest and red spread across your cheeks.
“Jungkook-“ you mutter nervously.
He strokes your arm gently, “don’t be embarrassed baby. You’re beautiful. You’re mine.”
He kisses you, pushing you back onto the bed with his hand behind your head. He supported you as he pinned you down.
He felt hot, ready and comfortable. But he was still worried about you. He wasn’t inpatient, he wasn’t mad. He was just worried.
“My love?” He asked.
“Hmm?”
“Are you doing okay so far?” He asked. You nodded and he smiled slightly, kissing your neck.
He felt you tense up and relax every so often. Feeling your soft skin in his grasp. He moaned and hummed, kissing you all over.
“Ooh, baby.” You cry.
“You okay?” He asked worried.
You nod, “I just-“
You were too embarrassed to say. But he knew exactly what was happening. “I know. You’re a bit turned on, aren’t you?”
You nod, nervously looking into his eyes. He didn’t judge you. You were nervous, but confident enough to at least try to be honest.
“Tell me when you need to stop, okay?” He spoke sweetly. You nodded and watched his lips latch onto the skin of your breast.
“Mmh!” You whine, feeling pleasure as he kisses you in your sensitive areas.
“That’s it.” He muttered between kisses. “Surrender to me.”
“Fuck, Jungkook.” You moaned as his finger brushed against you clit. You shook, not with pleasure but with anxiety. You felt a bit overwhelmed.
He paused, looking down at you, he looked so worried. “Are you okay love?”
“Mm, sorry.” You say. He shakes his head, not wanting you to feel sorry.
“Dont apologize sweetie.” He kissed your lips.
“K-keep going.” You speak randomly.
"Are you sure?" he asks softly. He takes your hand in his own, intertwining your fingers as he leans in for another kiss. "Let's take things slow," he whispers against your lips before gently pulling away to look into your eyes once more.
“Mmh, I can’t wait any longer.” You kiss his neck, lifting your back off the bed slightly to get closer to him.
“Baby, you’re so eager.” He teased. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”
“You won’t. I trust you.” You reassure him. If you had to be honest with yourself. You were nervous. You were so scared and self conscious.
He kissed your temple, “tell me when.”
He kisses your neck again and leads his hand back down to your clit, rubbing gentle circles around it. You mouth opens slightly and you let out small gasps and moans.
“That’s it.” He praised, rubbing your clit moderately.
“Mmh, feels good!” You moan. He smiles and slips a finger into your tight cunt. “Mm!”
“Is this okay?” He asked. You nodded desperately. You needed this more than anything. “Good girl.”
“Fuck-“
“So naughty baby.” He smirked a little, slipping another finger into your cunt. You were on the edge of ecstasy. He felt your soft walls squeeze around his fingers.
“Mmh wanna cum.” You moan.
He chuckled, “not so fast baby.”
He pulls away making you whine desperately. You grab his arm, trying to get him back to you. But he pulls away. He was amused by your response. He loved to tease. Especially now that he’s able to fuck you.
“Be a good girl.” He takes off his sweats, throwing them aside. His shirt was next to go. “My good girl.”
“Please, Jungkook mm!” You whine again, he looks down to you, letting his long cock go free for your eyes.
Once you saw how big he was, your first thought was how much you could take. You were too desperate to care about the pain.
“Fuck, see what you do to me.” He stokes his cock, moaning and hissing at the pleasure.
You saw him pleasing himself and his moans were too much for you to handle. It was so hot, his reactions to his own touching and his way of being vocal.
“Want it?” He teased. You nodded desperately, sitting up a little on the bed. “Shh, baby relax.”
You look up at him as he positions himself between your legs. He kissed your leg gently before putting it over his shoulder, letting the other rest on his waist.
“Please-“ you plea.
He chuckled, “it’s okay. I’ll give it to you right.”
He puts his tip near your folds and brushes his tip against your clit. You squirm and whine. His grip was gentle but strong on your legs. He kept you still enough.
He pushes in a little, “Does it hurt?”
“A bit.” You admit. He nods and sits for a moment. He lets you adjust to his size each time he pushed in, giving you a moment.
“Just take a deep breath.” He whispered, bending over a little to kiss your cheek. He led his lips down to your jaw. You clench around him, moaning quietly. “That’s it.”
“Fuck. Mmh!” You cry, trying hard not to be loud. Jungkook could tell you were embarrassed by your behavior.
He reassured you, “I wanna hear all those pretty sounds baby.”
He kisses your lips, fucking you slow and sensually. “Mmm.”
“Fuck me- please.” You beg again and he chuckled. He loved to see you so desperate.
He groaned, his cock twitched and his precum started to fill you slow. “So beautiful, princess.”
“Ahha-“ you moaned again, squeezing the sheets around you. You grew a little frustrated because of how much you were taking. Jungkook was quick to respond.
He grabbed your hands and gently put them by your head, intertwining his fingers with yours. He kissed your nose, speaking softly. “Squeeze if you need to.”
His voice was so soft and romantic. He pulled you down to get deeper. You let out a small yelp, but it wasn’t too bad.
“Fuck!” You grunt, quietly moaning his name in small doses. “Jungk-kook.”
“That’s my pretty girl.” He kisses your lips again before picking his pace up.
“Ah-AH!” You squeeze his hands and he slows down a little. “Sorry-“
“No baby. Don’t be sorry. I need to make this comfortable for you.” He kisses your forehead as he thrusts in and out of you at the pace he started with.
“I wanna c-cum.” You mutter, eyes fluttering. You felt your stomach get tight and your head go fuzzy.
He hummed, “cum on my cock baby.”
He picked his pace up again and felt you pulsate around him. He moaned, pulling out. He replaced his cock with his fingers, stimulating you, milking your orgasm to its peak.
“So pretty when you cum.” He praised you as he stroked his cock, still keeping his fingers in you. He pulled them in and out letting your lewd wet sounds fill the bedroom.
He came shortly after, all over your stomach. He felt bad for doing so. He got all red and flustered for the first time in the last couple hours.
“Sorry baby.” He kisses you again, getting on top.
You giggle, “it’s okay.”
“Here. Give me a second.” He rushed out of the room, grabbing his robe and slipping it on. He came back with a wet, warm cloth.
He sat on the bed next to you, brushing the warmth over your sore cunt. He kept his eyes on you, making sure he moderates any discomfort.
“Are you okay my love?” He asks.
“I’m okay, Jungkook.” You wince at the slight burning he left you with.
He furrows his brows and seems concerned, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I asked for it.” You tried to reassure him.
“I don’t deserve you.” He kisses you once more.
® crybabydooly, dont repost
#bts x fem!reader#jungkook#jungkook smut#jungkook x female reader#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#bts smut
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「5️⃣0️⃣0️⃣ FOLLOWERS CELEBRATION」
Making up after a break up I Nico Hischier ⚡️🔥🌺5️⃣0️⃣0️⃣
Summary; Nico Hischier is undeniably a gifted hockey player. However, amidst the fame and great attention, he must remain grounded and attentive to those who love and support him.
Tropes & warnings; established relationship; break-up to make-up; Smut 18+; fingering, unprotected sex (p in v), cum inside;
Other notes; Please, don't ask me why reader always has to fight with Nico 🙈 I blame the prompts 🤍 I know, my so-called "angst" is just a poor as my summaries - nevertheless, I hope you enjoy this ❤️
Word count; 4.1K
Taglist; @couldawouldashoulda50 @findapenny@justwanderingbutneverlost @cixrosie
・✶ ｡ﾟ
"I’m sorry, but it’s not like I can control it. It’s part of the job!" Nico's voice was louder than usual, his frustration evident as he stood in the spacious living room, fists clenched at his sides.
The atmosphere in your apartment was thick with tension, as your boyfriend, Nico Hischier, had just come home after the New Jersey Devils were eliminated in the first round of the playoffs. A game where you should have been there to comfort and support him, but tonight, all you felt was anger and frustration.
"Well, you don’t exactly have to encourage it either!" you shot back, your voice rising to match his. The argument was heated, and a part of you knew it was reaching a point where there was no going back. The faces of the women who constantly surrounded your boyfriend were still vivid in your mind, and you just couldn’t push them away and let it go.
"It's not my fault that you’re just jealous," Nico then retorted, his eyes narrowing as he stared at you. You could sense how frustrated he was as well, and both of you sensed that this fight would not end well.
"Oh, I’m sorry that I love my boyfriend and want to spend time with him! Please excuse me for caring!" The words came out sharper than you intended, but you were beyond caring at this point. All the pent-up emotions of the past several months were pouring out, and everything was boiling over.
Your heartbeat quickened with every passing moment, coupled with a high pulse and tears pressing on, yet you were determined not to let them show. You were not going to let him win this.
But then the words Nico thought, but didn’t intend to speak, blurted out before he could stop them. "Well, maybe it would be a lot easier if I wasn’t your boyfriend then." His expression shifted, hardening.
The room fell into a stunned silence. It felt as if the air had been sucked out of the space, leaving you both gasping for breath as the words hung between you, sharp and final.
"You really mean that?" you asked, your voice now lower and trembling. Despite the heat of the argument, something within you hoped he would take it back, say something to reassure you. But he just stood there, silent, and resolute. So, you took a deep breath, silently giving him another chance to say something, while a tear trailed down your cheek. "Fine," you then finally spoke softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "If that's how you feel, then maybe we shouldn't be together."
Nico's eyes flashed with something you couldn’t quite place—regret, anger, sorrow, or maybe something else entirely. But still he said nothing, and that silence was more painful than any words could have been.
So, without another word said, you turned and walked to the bedroom, grabbing a bag, and stuffing it with whatever clothes and essentials you could find. You just needed to get out, to be anywhere but here.
And as you left the apartment, you glanced back at Nico one last time. But still he was just stood there, looking lost and defeated. But more importantly, he didn't stop you, and that hurt more than anything else.
The next few days were a blur of tears, anger, and regret. You replayed the fight in your head over and over, wondering how it had come to this. You had stood by Nico through everything—the gruelling travel schedule, the constant media attention, the physical toll of his sport. But the jealousy, the feeling of being second to his career and the women who flocked to him, had been too much.
You had tried to rationalise it. You knew Nico couldn't always help the attention he received. He was a professional athlete, a public figure after all, but the way he seemed to bask in it, the way he never turned it down—that had been the breaking point. You had wanted to feel special, to feel like you were the one who mattered most to him. Instead, you had felt like just another fan in the stands, easily replaceable. Like a groupie he’d occasionally sleep with – and even that, he didn’t do with you.
So, as you sat in your new, temporary home, staring at the blank walls, the realisation hit you. Despite the hurt and humiliation, despite how shattered you felt, you still loved him. And that was the most painful part of all.
But for now, you had to focus on picking up the pieces of your life. Maybe in time, things would change. Maybe Nico would come to his senses, or maybe you would find the strength to move on. Either way, you knew you had to find yourself again, to remember who you were without him, and only then could you decide what your future would hold.
_
The months following the breakup were incredibly tough. To be honest, they were horrible. It felt like your heart had been torn in two and clumsily put back together, yet the shattered glass left by the breakup couldn't be hidden. You had to live with the cracks in the foundation, hoping that over time, they’d slowly fade and become less painful. Or perhaps one day, you’d grow so accustomed to the pain that you wouldn’t feel it anymore.
The worst part, however, was that it was nearly impossible to avoid Nico, especially since your social circles overlapped so much. Friends' gatherings and small post-season team events turned into emotional minefields. Every encounter tested your resolve, challenging you to maintain the façade of being cool and collected. And as you tried your best to move on, Nico did the same, each of you masking your hurt with smiles and casual conversations.
Yet, every time you saw him, a pang of sadness struck you, which was even worse when you noticed the regret in his eyes, the way he looked at you when he thought you weren't paying attention, making it clear he was hurting too.
To your great luck though, during the rest of the off-season, Nico then went back to Switzerland, and you thought the distance might help you heal. However, to your own great surprise, his absence only made your heartache more pronounced. The reality of the breakup sank in deeper, and you spent many nights questioning your decision, wondering if things could have been different.
Meanwhile, Nico was undergoing his own transformation. Conversations with some of the other players and their partners opened his eyes to the truth he’d been avoiding. They told him about the worries you’d shared with them months before the breakup, how you’d tried to brush off your insecurities and jealousy but eventually couldn’t bear it any longer. And hearing this from others slowly made him realise just how much he’d taken your love and support for granted and how blind he’d been to your feelings.
One evening, after a particularly enlightening conversation with a teammate’s partner, Nico sat alone in his apartment, replaying the last few months in his mind. He knew he’d been enjoying the attention from the media and fans, perhaps a little too much, and the attention he’d received from women had gone to his head. All the flirtatious looks, the light touches on his arm as they complimented his play—it had made him feel invincible, more important than just a captain to his team, but it had also blinded him to what was truly important—you.
He remembered the countless nights you’d stayed up late to greet him after a game, the way you always had a kind word or a comforting touch, even when you were exhausted from your own long day. He thought about the times you’d been at his side during his high moments and the times you’d held him through the lows. And as he lay alone, letting the memories flood his mind, he realised he’d never reciprocated that level of devotion. He’d been so wrapped up in his career and the attention that came with it that he’d failed to see how it was affecting you.
So, in the weeks that followed, Nico found himself reaching out to friends and family for advice. He spoke to his parents, who reminded him of the values they had instilled in him—humility, respect, and gratitude. They encouraged him to think deeply about what he wanted in life and who he wanted to share it with.
And back in New Jersey, you were on your own journey of self-discovery. You reconnected with old friends, picked up hobbies you had abandoned, and spent time reflecting on what you wanted from a relationship.
Then as summer slowly turned to autumn, you found yourself feeling stronger and more centred. You began to enjoy your own company and rediscovered passions that had been side-lined during your time with Nico. And while the pain of the breakup still lingered, it no longer dominated your every thought.
_
It all seemed to be going just well, but with the new season just around the corner, the team had organised a big event with partners to celebrate. And naturally, you were invited.
You hesitated at first, unsure if you were ready to face Nico in such a social setting – and single. But after some encouragement from your best friends, you decided to attend. So, you dressed carefully, wanting to look your best and show that you were doing just fine, even if your heart still ached at the thought of him.
The venue was buzzing with excitement, filled with the familiar faces of the team and their partners, all laughing and chatting. With a drink in your hand for comfort, you did your best to mingle and immerse yourself in the event, though it was hard to ignore the knot in your stomach. Especially when you saw Nico walk in with a date, casing your heart to sink. Yet, you forced a smile, determined not to let it ruin your evening.
You tried to act mature and collected, however, you still spent most of the night avoiding him, keeping to the far side of the room whenever he was near. You focused on chatting with friends, laughing at their jokes, and even indulging in a few more drinks to steady your nerves. But as the night slowly wore on, fate had other plans. And as you stepped into the hallway to catch your breath from the loud, wonderful atmosphere, you nearly collided with Nico, coming face close to his chest.
"Oh, hey," he said, looking as surprised as you felt.
"Hi," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady as you stood up straight.
There was an awkward silence, the air thick with unspoken words between you, with only the cheerful noises of the event in the background humming. But then finally, Nico broke the silence.
"How have you been?" His voice was low and timid, yet you sensed the emotions he was trying to hide.
"Alright, I suppose," you said softly, trying your best not to let the stirring sensation within you surface. But as he just stood there, saying nothing else, and you noticed his date chatting with Timo in the background, you couldn’t help but let out a comment. "But apparently not as good as you…"
Nico immediately caught the direction of your eyes, turned for a brief moment before looking back at you. And it seemed as if that had pushed a button within him.
"Come on, Y/N… I know I said the final words, but you wanted to break up with me," he said, his voice tinged with frustration, as his eyes starred directly into yours.
"Yes, because I was mad at you, not because I stopped loving you,” you said, more firmly than intended, crossing your arms defensively. The words came out quickly and before you could stop them, your emotions almost bubbling to the surface.
"What?" Nico's eyes widened, a small flicker of hope in his gaze. “You still love me?”
You were slightly baffled by his question.
"Of course, I still love you..." you then replied, your voice softening as you let out a deep sigh, though unable to hold back the tear welling in the corner of your eye. “Nico, all I wanted was for you to love me… to show me you cared…”
“But I do care,” he quickly responded, almost blurting it out reflexively. Nico just couldn’t hide the fact that he’d been missing you deeply, despite his best efforts through the night. “Y/N, I love you more than anyone… none of them matter to me… I swear…”
And it was in that moment, everything else seemed to fade away. As you both stood there, you slowly came to realise that the feelings between you had never really disappeared.
But with the defensive walls you’d built over the past couple of months, you tried to walk away to gather your thoughts. You didn’t want to allow yourself to be vulnerable, risking get hurt all over again. However, Nico was quick and grabbed your hand, pulling you back towards him.
And before you could react, his lips were on yours, the kiss passionate and intense.
You tried to push him away, anger still lingering from the past within. But Nico's grip just tightened, pulling you closer to him. And as much as you wanted to resist the temptation, you couldn't deny how much you had missed him. So, with a sigh, you simply surrendered to the kiss.
You felt a flood of emotions as the kiss deepened, all the hurt and longing pouring out. It was just like coming home after being lost for so long, feelings of warmth and comfort embracing you. And when you finally pulled away, you were both breathless, staring at each other with a mixture of surprise and relief.
"Come with me," Nico whispered against your lips, your breaths mixing in the small space between you.
“What about your date?” you asked under your breath, still gasping for air.
But Nico just curved a little smirk at the corner of his lips. “Doesn’t matter – Timo can show her out… you’re more important now…”
And you couldn’t help but simply nod, your heart pounding as you stood so closely with the man, you’d long believed to be the love of your life. “Alright…”
“Let’s get out of here then.”
Nico didn’t even let you breathe and respond to his suggestion. Instead, you both just quickly excused yourselves from the event, following his footsteps out into the cool night air and swiftly into his car. The ride to his place was a blur, both of you eager to be alone as the magnetic force between only grew stronger and more intense by the second. And as soon as you walked through the door to the apartment you once called home, he quickly pulled you into another fervent kiss, his hands roaming your body, desperate to make up for lost time.
And you were equally eager to feel Nico against you. Everything about him felt like comfort and home - his touch so familiar, and the connection between you natural and effortless. So, neither of you wasted any time, your hands moving under each other's clothing, eager to undress and let your skin touch.
Though you had done this so many times in the past, tonight felt different. It was as if you’d fallen in love anew, and this was the first time you were allowing yourselves to feel each other. Yet, everything went by pure instinct. Both of you knew exactly which buttons to push, and before long, you were back in sync; Nico’s lips were attached to yours at all times as you both climbed under the sheets into missionary position, consumed by lust and desire, exploring each other.
And while engaged in a heated kiss, your tongues dancing with one another, your hand found his hardening member, stroking it gently to get it fully hard and ready. Meanwhile, Nico’s skilled fingers found their way to your core, gently caressing your folds and sensitive flesh as he alternated between paying attention to your clit and delicately probing your entrance.
Soft moans escaped you both, humming into the kiss and letting out deep breaths when you needed to part to regain air. The room was hot, filled with the smell of sex, and despite how good the gentle touch of his hand felt, you craved more. And fortunately, Nico didn’t keep you waiting long.
“Oh yes,” you breathed out as he eased two fingers inside you, gently stretching and massaging your walls. It was just as you remembered, the curve of his thick fingers easily seeking out your sensitive spot as he pumped them in and out. And as you felt the pleasure starting to build within you, your hands instinctively sought the back of his shoulders to grab on to for support.
Yet, it still wasn’t enough. Though Nico was skilled with his fingers, there was something you desired more. “Nico, baby… I want…” you moaned softly under your breath, letting the pleasure slowly consume your mind. “I want you inside me.”
However, as much Nico felt his cock pulsating, in desperate need of release, he also wanted to make sure you felt so good before he gave in to his own desires. Just like he always did.
So, leaning in closely to your face, his breath so near your ear you could feel the shiver it sent down your spine, he spoke huskily, “Let me make you come first.”
And you couldn’t say no to that.
So, letting him work his magic, you simply allowed yourself to relax into the mattress, your hands still holding tightly onto his shoulders as he increased the speed of his pumps. And at this point, you simply stopped holding back your noises, letting the pleasure take over and closing your eyes as he pushed you closer to the brink of climax.
“Fuck baby… missed your moans so much,” Nico complimented, his eyes intensely watching you squirm and whimper under his touch, your core getting wetter with each motion.
“Mmm yes…” was all you could moan, as the orgasm approached, your toes curling as your mind became hazier.
And as soon as Nico felt your muscles clenching around his fingers, he knew you were close. Knowing just how to bring you to that blissful peak, he scissored his digits at just the right angles, causing you to let out a louder moan and your body to lightly tremble.
"Fuck yes!" you gasped for air as the climax took over. Your walls tightened, sending your mind into a high, your juices spraying just enough to cover Nico’s fingers and hand as you arched your back, savouring the moment the orgasm took hold.
It felt nothing short of amazing. And despite Nico having done this so many times before, this felt heavenly, almost like a drug you’d been addicted to, gone through rehab, and now were back reaching the high you’d been longing for.
And as you lay there, slowly coming down from the high Nico had caused you, you couldn’t help but smile. "Oh… how I missed your touch," you almost cried, a whimper of pleasure escaping as you let out a deep breath.
Leaning over to place a tender kiss on your lips, Nico let out a dark chuckle. "Oh, I’ve missed playing with your body as well, baby..."
There was a momentary pause as he delicately withdrew his fingers, allowing your centre to relax. But with his pulsating cock proudly hard and eager, Nico wasted little time before gently guiding the tip against your entrance and effortlessly sliding himself inside you.
"Oh, yes..." he moaned deeply, savouring the comforting warmth of your inner walls, embracing him snugly as he gradually delved deeper into your depths.
Nico was convinced that your bodies were made for each other. Always had been and always would be. No woman before you had ever felt so seamlessly connected to his own, and he couldn’t imagine sharing this intimacy with any other woman in the future.
Though the position was simple, your bodies moved in harmony, his hips meeting yours with each thrust as moans reverberated and pearls of sweat formed on your skin. There was simply no greater pleasure than this reunion, where heartfelt emotions flowed freely after being pent up for so long.
And when you timidly suggested a change in position, indicating a desire to be on top, Nico swiftly flipped you both over, bodies still intertwined as you established a steady rhythm, rolling your hips as you rode him towards his own climax.
It was sheer perfection. Your hands instinctively found their place on his muscular chest for support, while his palms rested on your hips, gently guiding your movements to increase the pace slightly. And you complied willingly. Sensing your second orgasm approaching, you eagerly quickened your pace, releasing intense, deep breaths as you pressed your knees into the mattress, driving your movements with determination.
And Nico was nearing his peak as well. The tightness around his eager shaft, combined with the sight of your naked form above him and the melody of your moans, propelled him closer with each passing moment. Then acting on pure instinct, he swiftly pulled himself up to a sitting position, capturing your lips in a fervent kiss while his hand found its way into your hair, maintaining a firm grip around your neck. Pressing his forehead against yours, he held your face close to his, sharing breaths as his eyes locked onto yours.
"Never letting you go again... ever..." he growled softly, his climax imminent.
And equally on the edge, you responded with a simple vow. "Never..." you murmured, your hands returning to his shoulders for support as you maintained the intense rhythm.
With his other hand bracing behind him to steady himself, Nico instinctively tilted his hips upward slightly, just enough to stimulate your G-spot and draw a soft whimper of pleasure from you.
"Yes, oh yes... Nico... I'm gonna... gonna come..." you cried softly; your eyes almost unable to stay open as you rocked each other's worlds.
"Ja, schätzi... come for me... come with me now!" he urged, his voice filled with passion.
And it didn’t take much longer for both of you to unleash deep, resounding moans, waves of pleasure engulfing you as you soared into ecstasy together. Like often before, Nico released his cum into your depths, your walls eagerly tightening around his sensitive member, as your juices blended. It was perhaps the most intense orgasm you'd ever experienced, fuelled by the fiery passion and longing for Nico’s touch once more.
As the pent-up tension, anger, and frustrations from months past finally dissipated, you allowed yourselves to remain connected, slowly descending from the peak of ecstasy. It took a moment, the intensity lingering as both of you were deeply overwhelmed, and only gradually regaining control of your breath, your lungs filled with air and your minds cleared, your gaze met in a somewhat hazy stare, and a smile of pure bliss creeping onto your lips.
It was an exquisite sensation. Even as you slowly disentangled yourselves, a sense of euphoria enveloped you, finding solace in the pillow beneath your head as Nico did the same. For several minutes, your eyes remained locked, no words exchanged, the intensity of your passion simply speaking volumes.
And after the fervent lovemaking, you found yourself nestled in his arms, your head resting against his chest, right where you belonged. For the first time in a while, a sense of tranquillity washed over you, while Nico's fingers gently traced patterns on your skin, a serene smile gracing his lips.
"Nico," you then softly broke the comfortable silence. "Are you sure this is what you want?" you asked tentatively, needing reassurance. “To get back together…”
But Nico had no doubts. Feeling your presence again was something he had yearned for deeply, and now, he was determined never to risk losing you ever again. "More than anything," he replied earnestly, his voice brimming with sincerity. "I know I messed up before, but I won't make that mistake again. I love you, and I want us to be together."
And as you looked up at him, you only saw truth in his eyes. "I love you too, Nico. And I want us to be together as well, but we need to work on this, to make sure we don't fall into the same patterns."
He gently nodded. "I know. We'll take it one step at a time. But I promise, I'll do everything I can to make this right."
And as you snuggled closer, you felt a sense of hope. The road ahead wouldn't necessarily be easy, but for the first time in a while, you felt like you were on the right path. And with Nico by your side, you knew you could face whatever challenges came your way.
#5️⃣0️⃣0️⃣ celebration#nico hischier imagine#nico hischier x reader#new jersey devils imagine#nhl hockey imagine#nhl fanfiction
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Reborn into BG3: Chapter 11
You're reborn into BG3 with only the memory of your past life. Now you're Tav's companion on his journey, and must learn about yourself as much as your new reality.
Chapter 11: It's time to visit Auntie Ethel and thank her for helping you out with your hand. It's only polite. Hangovers, redcaps and monster hunters won't stop Tav from thanking a kind old lady!
Word count: 4.1K
A/N: The word count really got away from me on this one.
The next morning you can’t remember too many specifics about the night. You have the blurry picture of Karlach laughing, sitting by the water with Wyll, and someone laying in a pool of blood. You shiver at the incomplete memory.
Despite your hangover you’re chosen to go out with Tav, Astarion, and Wyll to go visit Auntie Ethel. No amount of protests are able to keep you at camp, because Tav assured you there was no fighting and you were just going to thank a kind old lady for her help! It’s only polite!
Halsin still had things to clear up at the grove so rather than wait around for him you were volun-told to make the trip. And since you couldn’t say what Auntie Ethel truly is, nor warn them about the Gur bounty hunter…you went along.
As you walk down the hill beside the blighted village you’re expecting to see the hag on the road with Mayrina’s brothers. But they’re not there, and neither is the basket of poison apples.
The illusion of a beautiful sunny land isn’t there, either. Instead you find yourselves in the swamp, the smell of stagnant water and algae strong, as well as blood. It would be easy to miss, you’re not sure how you can tell the scents apart yourself, but it’s there.
“Not quite what I pictured when she said to visit her teahouse,” Wyll says. He’s looking at the dilapidated bridge and debris spread around.
“Seems like a good point to turn around,” Astarion suggests. “I’d prefer not to get my boots wet.”
“It’s just water.” Tav starts moving through the deeper water that flows through the swamp before the broken bridge that leads to the island. Begrudgingly, the vampire follows.
Wyll steps into the water and offers you his hand to help you across. You take it gingerly and step forward, only to be met with solid resistance from what should be liquid. You both look down, your foot atop the water.
You put more weight on it, adding your other leg and letting go of Wyll’s hand. “I guess Gale was right about the enchanted boots.”
Walking on water seems excessive for someone from a city like Baldur’s Gate. But after a couple more careful steps and a few jumps you laughed. For a brief moment your worries and hangover are gone as you hop around on top of the little creek, fascinated by the murky gap between you and the earth. You spin in a circle then quickly steady yourself, dizzy, but also because you notice the three men you’re travelling with are grinning at you.
You clear your throat and cross your arms, heading to dry land. “Sorry, that’s just…cool.”
There’s a certain sparkle in Tav’s eyes that tells you he desperately wants to do the same. You tell him, “I’ve seen your feet, they won’t fit.”
His sparkle fades at the same time his tail dips towards the ground.
“Braaaaagh.”
The sound makes you flinch. On the little island are the redcaps, apparently still thinking they’re disguised as sheep. Two are atop the rocky hill in the middle, while a third wanders near the water. It makes another strange sound that’s supposed to be a “baaaaah”.
Tav approaches it, squats down, and with complete seriousness lets out a loud, “Baaaaah!”
Wyll hides a snicker behind one hand and that’s when you finally notice it. He has horns and a red eye.
“You have horns!” you shout thoughtlessly.
“Well, you were properly thrashed last night, weren’t you?” Astarion questions. “And even this morning? Or are you just blind?”
“I, uh, sorry Wyll…” You’re about to ask when Mizora showed up but think better of it. “What…”
“I wondered why you didn’t ask last night,” Wyll says. There’s a hint of a laugh in his voice, but the sadness over his change is still there. “I was tasked with killing Karlach, and since I haven’t, I’ve paid the price. My patron Mizora…”
You’re given a quick rundown of Mizora visiting him when he was with Lae’zel and Shadowheart.
At the end of his story you ask, “So last night you had…”
You gesture at his face, and maybe the innocence of the question is what makes him smile. “I’m afraid so.”
“I am so sorry,” you repeat. At least you had an excuse for not noticing last night, but you were so used to seeing him in game you didn’t give it a second thought this morning.
“It’s not your fault. It was my decision.”
“No, I mean—well I’m sorry for that, too—but I’m sorry I didn’t notice. I’m so selfish, I was moping over nothing while you were—are—in pain.” You bite down on your thumb nail and try to remember talking to him by the water but it’s so blurry now. Not only were you moping over imaginary problems, he went out of his way to make you feel better when he had very real, life altering things to deal with.
“I appreciate that,” Wyll tells you.
“But—“
Wyll holds up a hand. “I have seen enough to know that you truly didn’t notice. Not because you were too selfish but because you…”
“Because I…?” you ask.
Wyll shifts uncomfortably.
“Because you’re naive,” Astarion says. “And I say this with love, darling, a little—oblivious.”
“Astarion,” Wyll warns.
“I didn’t say dim this time.”
“Astarion!”
“I am not stupid!” you shout. The redcap startles, hollow eyes on you. “I just don’t…I don’t know things about…things.”
You frown. They’re talking about you when you’re not around? You hadn’t considered that. Of course they did—they talked about each other, too, so why not you?
“To clarify,” Tav adds, “only Astarion called your dim.”
“You did jump in front of a loaded crossbow for a goblin.” Astarion arches a brow at you, probably thinking how you had called yourself stupid at the time.
Your frown turns to a pout. You grumble something about moving on from the subject in hopes of never having to discuss it again. You begin to walk around the redcap with a wide gap, eyeing it warily.
“Now you’re afraid of sheep?” Astarion asks.
“No,” you reply. You look at the vampire quizzically. “But that’s clearly not a sheep.”
The men exchange confused glances. You’re very tired of getting those looks.
“It’s a redcap?” you say to them. “Isn’t it? I’m pretty sure that’s what they’re called.”
Wyll studies the redcap—or sheep as he sees it—as it moves towards you. It lets out an awkward sound between a growl and a bray, but when you don’t reply it’s sneer deepens. There’s a shift in the air, a static shock that stretches around the area in what you can only guess is magic.
“Ohhhh, a redcap,” Tav says. He takes two steps forward, pulls his right leg back then thrusts it forward to kick at the creature. His boot connects with its middle and despite the weight of the redcap it soars through the air.
It goes so far you only hear a distant splash of water. Astarion claps at the distance.
The other redcaps are not quite as entertained by Tav’s actions. They screech from the hilltop, one jumping down while the other moves its hands in the air. Roots tangle around yours and Tav’s legs, locking you in place. The one now on your level charges towards you only to be sent flying by a red bolt from Wyll—eldritch blast.
Astarion lazily throws his dagger at the one on the hill and when the blade lands in its eye socket the vines around you shrivel and die. You step out, shaking each leg of any remaining debris.
“So you saw through the illusion,” Wyll states.
You survey the area, that static ring gone. All you can offer is a shrug—you passed the perception check you guess. But you can’t tell them that.
Tav loots the bodies of a small amount of gold and alchemical ingredients while Astarion retrieves his dagger. Wyll offers theories as to how you were able to see the redcaps, but it all comes back to the enchantment on your clothes. Whatever protection they gave you from harm could be linked to the fact you haven’t had to clean them yet—they still appear pristine despite the blood and dirt you’ve lain in. In fact, you haven’t felt the need to even wash the sweat from your skin. Powerful enchantments indeed.
Tav leads the group forward to Auntie Ethel’s house, all of them a little more suspicious of the old woman now that the swamp is no longer disguised. After the elation of walking on water you’d forgotten about the Gur waiting around the corner. As you approach the bottom of the hill he’s waiting on, you grab Astarion’s sleeve between your index finger and thumb. “Maybe we should wait here.”
“What’s wrong?” Wyll asks. You don’t let go of Astarion’s sleeve even when he tries to pull away. You wet your lips, eyes darting between the vampire and the direction of the Gur. Just a few more steps and he’d be able to see you; he can probably already hear you.
You tug on the sleeve again. “Ast—you should stay here.”
He finally yanks out of your grip and smooths the sleeve where you’d been holding. “And why should I do that?”
Because there’s a hunter around the corner looking for you and he might actually recognize you. Because things are slightly different than in the video game I remember in my past life where you’re a character and not a person.
Because I don’t want you to have to remember how you died and that you can’t escape Cazador, not yet anyway.
You can’t find a reasonable answer.
Astarion huffs out a sigh. “Is this one of your weird feelings Karlach was going on about? Am I about to die if I take another step?”
You flinch back. “What? No, I just…what are you talking about?”
“You seem to know when death is coming,” Astarion explains. “The goblin, then Arka—who confessed her suicidal plan in a drunken stupor last night by the way, to her friend right outside my tent. Ugh, I had to send them away just so I could get some sleep.”
You look at Tav and Wyll, the vague image of Arka laying in a pool of blood coming to mind.
Astarion adds, “You sniff out death like a bloodhound.”
“I just have a bad feeling,” you finally mumble.
“It’s okay,” Tav says. “If anything tries to hurt Astarion I’ll take care of it.”
You smile as he gives you a thumbs up, wishing you could believe him invincible.
“Let’s go see if we get to kill something, now,” Astarion says excitedly.
“Perhaps some precaution is in order,” Wyll suggests. “Tav and I will take a look first and signal if it’s safe. Agreed?”
Astarion rolls his eyes but nods. “Don’t have all the fun without me.”
Tav and Wyll move ahead and around the corner. You hear their voices as they speak with the Gur, but can’t make out the words. Then, Tav’s head appears around a rock and he waves you over. He’s smiling at least, which probably means he wasn’t told anything about what the man is hunting.
You keep yourself a step ahead of Astarion as you follow Tav. Once at the top of the hill the Gur hunter nods to you as greeting.
“He’s a monster hunter,” Wyll says to you. Like that is going to somehow comfort you, even if you didn’t know what you know.
Astarion questions what terrible creature he’s hunting and the scene is triggered. You gulp as the Gur says he’s hunting a vampire spawn named Astarion, and you can’t help but notice the look Wyll sends you. It’s a mix of apologetic, confusion, and concern. Concern for you or Astarion, you aren’t sure.
The hunter mentions he needs Astarion alive.
“Well here he is,” Tav says, waving a hand at the vampire beside you. “This is Astarion.”
“What?” You and Astarion shout the word at the same time, gawking at Tav. You step to the left and in front of Astarion.
“What are you doing?” you question.
“Yes,” Astarion agrees, “what in the hells do you think you’re doing?”
“It can’t be…?” the Gur says.
“But he is looking for you,” Tav says innocently. “And he wants you alive.”
“That doesn’t make it better!” you shout. You grip your staff with both hands, ready to hit someone—and that someone might be Tav.
Your fury at the tiefling in that moment almost overshadows the phantom limb as it reaches out into the swamp behind you. Almost. Something…twitches. It’s not you, nor that strange feeling in your head, but something moves. You can feel it, slow at first but getting faster as feet drag through mud. You feel grimy water on your skin, the need to follow orders—your orders. It’s not you feeling this, someone else is, not unlike the connection the tadpole gave you.
The Gur pulls his crossbow from his back and tries to aim at you, or Astarion behind you, but he isn’t given the chance when something launches over your head and onto him. He screams as the creature bites his jugular, blood squirting—squirting!!—from the wound. You shout and jump back only to collide with Astarion. He sets his hands on your arms to balance you, and then pushes you out of the way as he watches the Gur get killed by—
“Didn’t we kill those little things?” Astarion asks, pointing at the redcap that tears into the hunter's body. It’s moved on from his neck, now clawing at his stomach. You watch on, eyes wide and unblinking, breath held in your chest. Another redcap, this one missing an eye, hobbles past you and joins his companion.
“We did,” Wyll confirms.
You’re holding your staff in front of you, still ready to whack someone until the Gur stops struggling. You let out the breath you were holding. When you finally blink you see that the eyes on your staff are glowing a lovely violet.
The redcaps grunt, facing you now that their task is complete. Your eyes dart between the staff and them, and back again. “Please tell me I didn’t do that.”
“I think you may have,” Wyll says. “And it seems you may be a necromancer of some sort; you didn’t even need to utter a word to bring the redcaps here and do your bidding.”
“That,” you say, pointing to the corpse, “is not my bidding.”
But you can’t deny that you feel a string of connection to the redcaps now—puppet strings. Your strings, using them like marionettes. And you can’t deny the way the redcaps watch you like they’re waiting for your next command. You want to drop the staff, but your body won’t listen. Because it has to be the staff, right? It’s cursed or enchanted to let you raise the dead! Finally you let go of the wood and let it fall to the ground with a clatter.
But the redcaps stare on.
“It’s okay.” Wyll tries to comfort you but you’re having none of it.
“No, it’s not okay!” you yell. You point at the body again. “I just killed that guy!”
“And for Astarion, no less,” Tav chimes in. His voice brings you back, somewhat grounding you from your hysteria.
“And you!” You point to the tiefling. He flinches back at your fury, having the gall to look innocent with his wide eyes and tail tucked. “Why did you tell him about Astarion?”
Tav doesn’t get to answer when one of the redcaps launches itself at him. He’s quicker to react than the Gur and grabs it before it can claw or bite out his throat, and uses the momentum to swing around and throw it about as far as he kicked the first one.
You picture a string between you and the redcaps, and then a pair of scissors snipping them away. There’s a moment of hesitation in the remaining redcap, but it soon falls over. Dead, again.
You sniffle, holding back the burning tears that begin to line your lower lashes. “He was going to hurt Astarion.”
Maybe Tav had a plan and that was why he told the truth. Or maybe he just can’t help but be honest, thinking he could bargain with the Gur into leaving Astarion alone. But you can’t wrap your head around it. And rather than focusing on the glowing eyes of the staff, that have now faded, the fact you just killed a man with two undead redcaps, you focus on your anger at Tav. It’s so much easier to be angry than sad.
You step towards him, pull back your foot, and kick him in the shins with all your might. He has leather boots on, and he’s a barbarian, so he probably doesn’t feel it much, but you kick him again.
He hops away on one foot, grabbing at his minor injury. “I’m sorry!”
“He was gonna take Astarion!” you shout. You step towards him only to feel two hands on your shoulders, keeping you in place.
“Perhaps this argument can wait,” Wyll says. He doesn’t let you go when he looks at Astarion. “Why did he want to capture you, not kill you? He said it was a sacred duty from his people—that’s no small task to be given.”
You shrug Wyll off and cross your arms, facing away from Tav. Tears slip down your cheeks as you regain control of your breathing. You rub at your face with one sleeve.
“How should I know?” Astarion asks. He’s putting on a front, you think. “He was most likely sent by my old master, Cazador, to bring me back to Baldur’s Gate.”
They discuss the possibilities—why a Gur was sent, what Cazador would want with him rather than just kill him. You keep your arms crossed, determined to hang onto the anger as fear creeps along the edge of your senses.
“Weren’t we here to thank a little old lady or something?” Astarion questions, hurriedly changing the subject. “Perhaps we should move on, before any more hunters show up?”
You are more than happy to get away from the corpse, but the closer you get to Ethel’s the more your anger ebbs away and is replaced by fear. There are so many things that contribute to that fear, so you hold onto the fury as tightly as possible and refuse to even look Tav in the eye, despite his many attempts at getting your attention. He flits around you, begging you to say anything to him, sic another redcap on him even, but you’ve quickly come to realize that the silent treatment is the best punishment.
That anger takes you all the way to Ethel’s door, where Wyll knocks before entering.
Though the tea house is a little decrepit and sitting in the middle of a swamp, it doesn’t smell like it. There’s a scent of a spicy tea in the air, and when you enter you find Ethel sitting where Mayrina is in game, sipping on a cup.
“Petal!” she says, a smile crossing her features when she sees who’s visiting. “I was worried you might not find the place.”
Ethel stands and approaches the bottom of the stairs, waving the group farther inside. “Come in, come, would you like some tea?”
You do your best to hide the fear that creeps along your spine. In the game Ethel could be a difficult battle, but that was only triggered based on the actions against Mayrina and her brothers. With none of them there you couldn’t predict how things would go.
From the corner of your eye you can see Astarion watching you. He doesn’t stray too far from the group, but he’s never more than a foot away from you. Maybe killing his hunter endeared him to you? You should have gotten a few Astarion Approves from letting him drink your blood alone.
While your eyes had wandered around the tea house Ethel and Tav had begun their conversation. He was also only a foot in front of you, and when you came back into the conversation Ethel was offering her deal.
“That sounds like a poor deal,” Tav says. He thrusts his thumb over his shoulder towards you. “Apparently they can fall out after getting hit in the head hard enough.”
“I don’t think that’s what happened,” Wyll says. He steps a little closer to you. You’re starting to feel claustrophobic with all of them keeping so close to you so you take a step back.
Ethel eyes the men and then you. There’s recognition in her features but it doesn’t feel quite the same as when Raphael had stared you down. “Your god must really love you to get rid of that little wriggler.”
You perk up, maybe too much and give away your eagerness. “My god?”
Wyll casts a warning glance in your direction. Don’t act desperate, it reads. You wet your lips. “How do you know it was my god and it didn’t just die?”
Ethel laughs. “Let’s just say you’ve got a glow about you. You all do. You Chosen.”
The air freezes. Everything slows…slows…stops.
Necromancer.
Chosen.
Control over the dead.
Necromancer-Chosen-dead three-Myrkul-
You whirl on your heel, fall to your knees, and throw up the fruit that had been forced on you earlier. You manage to get it into a nearby basket, but the purge doesn’t stop your stomach from turning. Those words—chosen, dead three, necromancer—keep swirling in your mind. You hiccup and release more into the basket.
You tremble. You’d never thrown up from fear before. Motion sickness, sure, flue, totally. But fear? The shaking doesn’t stop, nor does the urge to keep vomiting. All you can do is sit there on your knees, breathing heavily as the small dot that is your vision spins round and round and round.
Your head starts shaking. “No, I’m not—I’m nothing. Nobody! I don’t matter. I’m—”
You can’t be anyone connected to the main plot. No. You can’t be one of the dead three or a chosen, because you did have a worm in your brain for a while, and you were on the ship and—and—
“Take a breath,” Wyll says. He kneels beside you, hands out and ready to wrap around you but only hovering above your jacket.
“I’m not…”
“Just take a breath,” he repeats. “We don’t know anything for sure.”
He seems so sure, you think. So solid, just like last night at the party. How he can be so certain of anything right now is beyond you, and you know what’s coming.
You do as he instructs, your next few breaths are shaky but calming. You wipe at your mouth with your sleeve, watching as the spittle soaks into the fabric then disappears completely. “I need to—go somewhere. Not be…here.”
You stand quickly, ignoring Tav as he calls to you. You’re on the front porch when you feel something wrap around your ankle and nearly topple you forward. You come to a stop and turn. Tav’s tail is wrapped around your ankle and even when you stop it doesn’t loosen.
“Please, wait.”
You try to take a step forward but his grip is too strong. “I need to go.”
“I’ll go with you.” His tail tightens, desperate to keep you there. It pulls, trying to bring you closer to him even though it’s barely two feet between you.
“I want to be alone.”
“I’ll…I’ll be quiet.” Gods, he’s giving you that look that makes it feel like you just kicked a puppy. As much as you try to stay mad it’s fading into nothing but anxiety and fear, and a desperate desire to let him comfort you. But you need to think, somewhere without distractions and far away from a literal hag. Even if she hasn’t shown her true form.
“Tav,” you begin, pleading just as he is. You look at him. Really look at him. You take in the black scleras that surround the dark blue of his eyes, the beginnings of wrinkles around his mouth from where he’s always smiling, the slight indent of crow’s feet at the corner of his eyes. His white-gray hair shifts with the breeze, but his horns stop anything from getting into his eyes. You wish it would cover his eyes–they’re far too teary for the light-hearted man.
Wyll sets a hand on Tav’s shoulder. “Let go, Tav. It’ll be fine.”
The tieflings lips press together, his tail unmoving.
“Tav.” Wyll isn’t making a suggestion. With one last desperate look at you Tav finally releases his hold on your ankle.
You take the steps down into the dirt. “I’m just going back to camp. I’ll…see you there.”
Tav opens his mouth then thinks better of it. Whatever he was going to ask goes unspoken. Most likely another plea to get you to stay, or to allow him to follow.
You turn and start walking through the swamp.
Taglist:
@half-poison-and-half-hope @sanscas @hotmesshobbit @godoffuckedupcats @thequeen-oni @terrenuserinj @straewberrysoda @theomnipotentfox @becksynthetic @quitecontrary-to-mary @furblrwurblr @mega-trash-cringe @fandomsbookclub @dontneedbiologytoadopt @pebble-bb @v3lv3tvampir3 @mrow-kat @jeneralmischief @notsaelty @runaway-17 @aoirohi @tinswhimsy @xxgrimripp3rxx @kemonocat-blog @thetiredtoad0-0 @sleepydang @iwannabealocalcryptid
#reborn into bg3#reborn into baldur's gate 3 with no memory and plenty of money#astarion x reader#tav x reader#auntie ethel#fanfic#bg3 fanfic#bg3 fanfiction#you should really look into that other bag of yours reader
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very mild 18+ simon riley x reader
lmaoo i can't breathe Simon Riley is just a man.
atleast to you.
when he's home, all he is to you is dry humor, a couple beers every night, sat in front of the tv on his spot on the couch, the game is playing - some soccor or rugby match. he doesn't wear his mask, his clothes are a simple t-shirt and some pair of shorts he just threw on.
he uses your shampoo and conditioner, as much as it pisses you off because it's expensive and for some reason he uses half the fucking bottle everytime he's home, but when he does the groceries he still comes home with '2 in 1 shampoo and conditioner' he would’ve got the '3 in 1' but the last time he did that he got no head for 3 weeks.
he'll go to the pub, take you out, pushes the trolley, holds your bag, let's you dress how you want it, belly gets a little soft because he eats food like he's never ate before, buy you anything you want even after the 'do you really need it though?' talk.
he's bit lazy on workouts only goes on the occasional run, but will fuck you whenever you want; always vanilla and only gets rough when you ask.
he will say he'll fix whatever appliance needs tending too but won't do it right away, starts the occasional handyman job at odd times.
it's just - he's so mundane and normal that you'd never know just how dangerous he is ???? like he so carefully hides that side from you. seriously. when he's home, he throws his gear in the bottom of his closet in a box, locking Ghost away and just existing as Simon.
even when the rest of the task force come around on the occasion. they're so normal and are just... men. yelling at the tv during a sport match. teasing each other. stealing snacks and helping with cleaning. they never speak about work and when you ask them, it's always a smile and shrug, "just another day really." "little boring and slow." "oh not too bad." their answers are so half-assed, that you don't even ask anymore; which is what they want.
but you really aren't missing anything. not when you don't even know what you're missing out on.
it's crazy, because he even keeps Ghost hidden when you're being harassed by men. whether that be when you're shopping or just going for a walk.
he'll loop an arm around your waist or over your shoulder, look at the guy with a grin - that's more of a sneer, "can i help you, mate?" he'll drawl. his stature and stare is enough to make the man who had been harassing you back off.
"what a freak..." you mutter with a roll of your eyes, letting Simon guide you away as he presses a kiss to your temple, a deep chuckle leaving him.
around midnight you wake up to Simon in the laundry room washing his hands. he doesn't blink or hesitate when you wonder in and wrap your arms around his waist. "what're you doing?" you mumble, sleepy eyss dropping to the sink.
Simon's hands are red, and you would be alarmed, should be alarmed. but how could you when Simon hums softly, a sound that rumbles deep from his throat, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head. he's so warm and casual that you don't even do a touble take seeing the blood.
"caught a rat. right pest they are. the trap i set snapped it clean in half." Simon's mutters, he raises a bloodied hand to you, sniggering when you crinkle your nose up in disgust and step away from him.
"ew, i'm going back to bed." you huff, yawning and leaving him to what he was doing.
Simon laughs softly as you head off. "just be a sec, love." he says as you go. all he receives is a yawn and a tired 'mhm'.
he cleans his hands and then his phone chimes. he pulls it out and it's a private message.
'getting rid of your pest now, LT.'
image attached
Simon opens the picture and sure enough there's the man from earlier in the boot of a car. all bloodied like Ghost left him.
Simon heads back upstairs to your shared room, you quietly snoozing away. you don't steer or wake as the closet door opens and Simon's putting his mask back in with his gear. No. Ghost is too quiet to let you wake from such a warm and sweet sleep.
he turns from the closet after putting everything away and changing clothes. he crawls into his side of the bed and wraps his arms around you. letting your body nestle back into his side. limbs tangling together.
just you and your simon.
a/n: inspired by a tik tok video on how he is just a man lmaooo
#my post#x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon x reader#ghost cod#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#cod mwii
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Pining Zoro and blind-to-it Reader?
un-certainly
opla!zoro; 3,422 words; fluff fluff fluff so much fluff, straw hat!reader, fem!reader, (seeminlgy) clueless!reader, lots of pining, banter, teasing, smitten!zoro, the whole nine yards
summary: in which everyone knows zoro's got it bad for you, except for you, of course.
one.
“so… i should just… talk to her.” zoro says uncomprehendingly, blinking at an exasperated nami, who has to take a long, steadying breath to keep from shoving him overboard. the waves beneath them are calm, the day above them, a gorgeous, endless stretch of blue so brilliant it almost pains the eyes to stare.
nami resists the urge to pinch her nose bridge as a dull ringing starts to echo in her ears.
“yes. sweet god — just go up to her and say ‘hey, i think i might like you’ and i guarantee you, things will go from there.”
zoro shifts his tightly knitted arms, squinting at her as if she might be lying or purposefully luring him into a trap, “go? so there’s a chance it could go badly.”
this time, nami really does drop her face into her hands, groaning loudly.
“well there’s always a chance it could go badly —”
“sounds like a bad idea to me.” zoro looks away, eyes still narrowed as the light sea breeze ruffles his hair, a colony of news coo squawking loudly overhead, one of them dropping down to careen towards the going merry, landing on the thick white railings next to them, ruffling it’s feathers as nami pushes off to dig in her pocket for some berry.
“oh! newspapers here!” your voice makes both zoro and nami jump, and a second later you’re bounding up the stairs to the forecastle deck and stuffing some berry into the news coo’s bag. your arm brushes by zoro’s as you lean over to offer the news coo a piece of dried shrimp, which it considers for a second before leaning forward and gobbling up.
nami gives zoro a soft shove from his other side, leveling him with a meaningful look before turning and making a show of going to check on her tangerine grove.
zoro doesn’t have time to glare before the news coo takes off with a pat-pat-pat of wings, leaving you and him very much alone on the sunny fore-deck. he purses his lips, casting about for something to say even as you hum happily to yourself, your arm still painfully close to his as you unroll the newspaper and flip though, blissfully unaware of the inner turmoil of the man standing next to you.
“uh — anything interesting?” zoro asks, desperate for something, anything to fill the silence.
you shrug, “nope… just the usual — uptick in piracy along the coast, tightening of marine patrols…” you turn and cast him a grin that makes his stomach twist inside him like a contortionist from buggy’s freakshow.
zoro clears his throat, thumbing absently at the hilt of his swords before taking a deep breath.
“hey — uh…”
“hm?” you turn towards him, with your wide attentive eyes and your stomach-curling smile.
zoro blinks, his gaze flickering from your soft button nose to the way the wind twines its fingers in the loose strands of your hair. two twin pearls glitter from the lobes of your ears and he feels the tension melt from him as he sucks in another breath.
just say it, nami had said, just tell her.
really, how hard could it be?
“i uh — there’s something i wanna talk —”
“wait, hold still,” you say, your eyes going wide as you lean forward suddenly and zoro’s visions tunnels in around him — you’re close, closer, too close/too close/too close!
your fingers card through his hair and he has to bite back the shiver that rockets down his spine as you pull your hand back with a black-tipped feather.
“the news coo left you a present,” you say, laughing as you offer him the feather.
zoro considers it for a second before taking it from you.
“it could’ve left worse,” he says, recalling the few times that he’d gotten bird shit in his hair.
you giggle; the sound makes him want to scream but instead, he settles for clearing his throat again.
“now, you make a wish,” you say, nodding towards the feather in his hand.
“never heard of that before,” he frowns slightly, “thought you could only wish on dandelion seeds and…” he waves at the endless stretch of sky above you, “shooting stars and stuff.”
your smile is so wide that zoro thinks his cheeks might start to hurt for you.
“haven’t you heard that rules are meant to be broken?” you ask, offering him the feather again. he looks at you, then at the feather, and the back at you.
“okay — i wish —”
you squawk flapping your hand, “no! you can’t tell me what the wish is! otherwise, it won’t come true!”
zoro smirks, cocking an eyebrow, “i thought rules were meant to be broken?”
you blush the most darling shade of red and he decides to take it easy on you (and, honestly, himself). so, he plucks the feather from your hand and closes his eyes, making a soft, silent wish. a wish that, in truth, he’d been making since the moment he met you.
when he opens his eyes, it’s to find you staring.
“kay. now what?” he asks, rolling the feather between his thumb and forefinger.
“now…” you gently tug the feather from him before opening your palm and letting the wind whisk it away, “you let the sea take your wish. and if you’re worthy, it’ll grant the wish for you!”
zoro lets out a breathy laugh, “if i’m worthy? and how’s it supposed to know that?”
you lean in, and if it were anyone else, he might’ve been annoyed, but with you, somehow, he finds himself charmed.
your voice is conspiratorial as you whisper, “because… the ocean knows all the secrets the sky can’t keep.”
two.
at dinner, with you by his side, usopp detailing some imaginary adventure, nami laughing, sanji blowing smoke rings towards the middle of the fire-lit deck. your cheeks are pink from the wine everyone is passing around and for a second, you bump into him and turn — he turns towards you too —
your eyes catch like unsuspecting fish to a bobbing hook and zoro feels his stomach tug as you grin up at him, the night sky caught in the flutter of your lashes.
he can’t help the way his gaze flicks down to your lips, and then back up again.
“feel like sharing?” you ask, nodding towards his half-finished bottle.
wordlessly, he hands the bottle to you and watches as you bring the mouth to your lips and take a long drink. he tracks the soft bobbing of your moon-lit throat and feels his own mouth go dry at the sight.
across the fire, sanji watches with a growing smile and nami rolls her eyes.
“oi, moss-head — mind if i take a swig too?” sanji asks as you hand back the bottle, dragging the back of your hand across your lips, and zoro turns to pin sanji with a glare.
“get your own,” he says, before polishing off the rest with a few hard sips and tossing the bottle into a rapidly growing pile.
zoro licks his lips and tries not to think about the way your lips had fit around the bottle just right; he tries not to wonder if you’d taste like wine. or, if he’d even have the mind to think that far if you were to let him kiss you.
three.
“… and then, you pull it through… like this?” you slowly bring your arm through a swiping movement, your hands clutched around the hilt of a wooden training sword. zoro sighs, shaking his head.
“uh — not quite — here,” he pushes off from the barrel he’s sitting on to circle around behind you, wrapping one hand around both of yours, the other palm curling around your middle to press against your stomach, “you’re breaking in your waist again — keep your core tight and —” he helps you swing the sword through in a swift arc.
“oh.”
it takes him a second to realize how close you are, how he can feel your entire back pressed against his entire front, how perfectly you fit into his arms, how easy it’d be to hold you to him and never let go.
“so just… practice that a few hundred times,” he says, stumbling back as his cheeks go hot and he feels the inexplicable urge to toss himself into the calm, saltine waves below, if only to cool down just a bit.
“will you practice with me?” you ask, your smile wider than the sky is wide — zoro is sure.
he blinks at you for a second before making a show of sighing and rolling his eyes.
“ah… i guess i could use a bit of practice too.”
he pulls out the wadou ichimonji and takes his stance next to you.
“ready?” he asks.
you nod, glancing over and adjusting your posture.
“okay, how many are we doing?”
zoro casts around for a number, “a thousand.”
“zoro!”
“five… hundred?”
you cast him a look that makes his stomach flip inside him.
“how about we start with a hundred, and then i’ll see how i feel from there?”
zoro clicks his tongue, smirking, “i could do a hundred in my sleep.”
you make a show of rolling your eyes, “fine then — go take a nap!”
zoro huffs as he clears his throat, “right then — let’s start — one, two —”
you squeak as you hurry to catch up, jumping as he reaches out a hand to correct your posture.
up on the foredeck, luffy watches with usopp by his side.
“hey! i wonder if zoro would teach me sword tricks if i asked!”
usopp sighs, clapping luffy on the back even as he shakes his head.
“uh — not that i think he wouldn’t but … maybe you should just… let them do their thing, yeah?”
four.
“i think you really should tell her,” luffy says, slapping zoro on the shoulder, a bit harder than he’d intended. zoro winces, pressing a palm to his chest — still sore from their recent raid.
“i don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”
luffy laughs, leaning forward against the railing, “nami said you’d say that.”
zoro fights the urge to scowl as he sighs, his eyes narrowed at the damnably calm horizon. at least if the weather weren’t so nice, he could make up an excuse to leave but —
“really, what’s the worse that could happen?” luffy asks.
zoro grunts, shooting luffy a sidelong look, “oh i don’t know, she doesn’t feel the same and shit gets awkward and —” he waves a hand at the going merry, “the crew falls apart.”
thankfully, luffy doesn’t pause to call him out on for once not denying it.
instead, he lets out a contemplative hum, “hm… yeah, that could happen. but… i don’t think it will.”
inside his chest, zoro’s heart clunks, strange and uncoordinated.
“why? she say something to you?” he can’t keep the curiosity from his voice, the stomach-squeezing anticipation he’d only ever associated with the heat of battle and a really good fight. but now, he feels it whenever you get too close, and he wonders if he can go insane like this — if one day his heart might just give out.
“nope!” luffy’s voice is too bright, too cheerful, and zoro feels himself rolling his eyes before he can stop himself, “i’ve just got a feeling!”
“a feeling.”
“yeah! and — have a little faith! the straw hat crew isn’t that fragile.”
with that, and another hearty clap to the shoulder that leaves zoro hissing in pain, luffy clomps off towards the kitchens, where sanji is already doing dinner prep. zoro lets out another sigh as he straightens, carefully stretching his arms to test the range of motion.
above him, a flock of migratory geese fly southward in a soft, arrowhead formation. zoro holds up a hand to shield his eyes from the sun as he watches them pass overhead.
a single feather flutters down towards him and he finds himself reaching out to catch in the palm of his hand.
a wish, huh, he thinks, twirling the feather between two fingers before casting around to make sure no one else can see him. satisfied that everyone else is either too far away or below decks, zoro closes his eyes and makes a wish —
alright roronoa, please. don’t fuck this up.
five.
“ahem.” zoro clears his throat after dinner, making a point to down a couple more drinks than usual. he’s never been one to believe in liquid courage, but… it couldn’t hurt, right?
“can we, uh, talk?”
you smile a smile that threatens to crack his chest wide open, nodding.
“sure! what’s up?”
across the room, sanji visibly stills but nami catches his eye and shakes her head ever so slightly.
“c’mon… not in here,” zoro says, jerking his head towards the hallway that leads to the decks above.
“what’s got you so secretive all of a sudden?” you ask as he leads you all the way up to the crows nest, reaching down to help tug you up, letting his hand linger in yours as you grin up at him.
“i’m allowed to have secrets,” he says, turning to stare out at the darkened sea, the summer moon hanging low and full-bellied over the glittering waters, the stars winking like so many all-seeing eyes.
“we all are, but… i thought we’d gotten all your big ones after that one night the whiskey bar —”
zoro coughs, “alright, alright — don’t need to bring that up again.”
you laugh, leaning forward to pillow your cheek against your crossed arms, propped up along the edge of the crows nest.
“so? what’s this new secret, then?”
zoro swallows, “uh — wouldn’t exactly call it new.”
“alright then, an old secret.”
“not super old, either —”
you turn to look at him, half-exasperated, half-amused, but when you catch sight of his expression, you still, pressing your lips.
“zoro? is… everything okay?”
he ticks his tongue against his teeth and lets out a long breath, as if bracing himself for something before he says —
“yeah. i think —” he clears his throat again, trying to recall what nami had said about just saying it and he tries again.
“i think i might like you.”
the coil in his chest feels tight enough to snap, but you’re quiet as he turns to steal a glance at you.
“oh,” you say, you expression curiously contemplative as you look out over the darkened seascape.
zoro has to physically stop himself from shaking you by the shoulders — say something, goddamnit! say anything!
“so…” he says, knitting his arms across his chest instead.
you turn towards him, your eyes bright as twin stars.
“you think you might like me, right?” you ask, and for a second, zoro can only blink down at you, completely thrown by your lack of reaction. of all the things he’d imagined you doing — everything from getting angry to apologizing to throwing yourself at him with an impassioned speech about how you’d felt the same since the beginning — this was not one of them.
“uh… yeah, pretty sure that’s what i said.”
you cock your head, a quick, bird-like gesture that makes zoro’s heart skitter inside his chest, threatening to leap from his mouth as you continue to stare up at him, completely unabashed.
“ah… so what do you think we should do then?”
zoro stares, “… do?”
“yeah, because if you’re not sure if you like me… we should do something to make sure, right?”
and it’s then that he sees the soft, playful uptick of your lips, the glittering darkness behind your eyes. the tension in his chest seems to loosen even as he lets out a breath, chuckling before quirking an eyebrow and taking a step towards you, caging you in against the crows nest’s edge.
“mm. you’re right — i can think of a few things we could try, though.”
“yeah?” you voice is little more than an exhale on the wind, but it’s the last thing zoro tastes before he finds his lips on yours.
as far as kisses go, zoro would later think back, it was a pretty damn good one.
it started as a slow kind of kiss, a soft, unfurling of breath on breath, and then lips on lips. the ghost-friction of promises made and kept and unbroken, the first spark to a fire that had been threatening to consume him since the moment he’d heard you laugh.
and then — just like that, he’s kissing you. and you’re kissing him back, the gravity and inevitability of it making his head spin even as he presses in closer. it is sweet and warm and trembling — soft and hard and deepening. he runs his tongue along the seam of your mouth and savors the way you gasp open for him.
just him.
he swallows it like he wants to swallow you, reaching up to sink his fingers into the silk and gossamer of your hair, pulling you so close he can feel your heartbeat thrumming against his chest, your nails as they curl into the linen of his shirt.
it takes everything inside him to pull back, and everything else left not to dive right back in again. you’re both panting, a little breathless, and zoro — a lot relieved.
“so…” you say, your tongue flickering out to lave across your bottom lip.
zoro doesn’t try to stop his eyes as he tracks the spine-tingling motion.
“so?”
you grin, biting back the shiver that chases through you at the deep, base rumble of his voice, echoing from his body to yours.
“what’s the verdict? have you decided if you like me yet?” you ask, batting your lashes even as he watches your own eyes drop down to his lips. a dark, warm, purring satisfaction curls inside his chest at the way your pupils dilate, black as the night, bright as all her favorite stars.
“hm,” zoro hums, leaning down to skim a knuckle along your jaw, slowly guiding your face towards his again, “dunno… jury’s still out… might have to try it a few more times. y’know… just to be sure.”
“mm…” you sigh as he leans down to graze his teeth along your pulse point, fingers tightening around your waist as he feels you tremble in his arms, “y-yeah… wouldn’t want you to be —” you hiccup as he sinks a soft bite into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, “uncertain.”
“no…” and his voice is all groan and gravel as he lets himself breathe you in, “we certainly wouldn’t want that.”
bonus.
far below, beneath the decks of the going merry, sanji takes a long pull from a post-dinner cigarette, his lips twisting into a concerned sort of frown.
“it’s been a while since they’ve been up there. think we should go check on them?”
luffy shugs, still happily picking at the remains of the turkey carcass sitting in the middle of an oblong plate.
“they should be okay — i mean, they say that no news is good news, right?”
“uh, not sure that applies to this kinda thing,” usopp says as he makes to peak out of the nearest window.
nami swirls her drink, “i think they’re fine. and we’d hear if zoro threw himself off the crows nest, right?”
across the table, sanji blinks and luffy pauses in his munching.
“whoa, you think he’d really do that if she rejects him?” usopp asks, his face going a little pale.
nami rolls here eyes, “no.” and then a moment later, “but really, we’d hear him if he jumped, right?”
luffy licks his lips, shrugging, “dunno, probably though. he’s pretty heavy so he’ll make a pretty big splash.”
sanji taps a bit of ash into his empty bowl and lets out a long suffering breath.
“yeah, y’know really, no news is good news.”
#dira333#one piece#one piece live action#opla zoro#opla roronoa zoro#roronoa zoro#roronoa zoro x reader#roronoa zoro x you#x reader#opla#one piece netflix#opla zoro x reader#one piece live action x you#one piece live action x reader#roronoa zoro fluff#one piece fluff#opla fluff#roronoa zoro imagines#roronoa zoro scenarios#floofy floof floof#scheduled post
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i dunnooo i feel like whenever you’re mean to yuji it turns him on, you’d be cursing him out nd he’d already be like half hard
I also feel like Yuji would beg to put it in😊
idk I just want him to throw me around
[cws] fem reader
[an] you get it!! i know it in my heart that yuji likes his partner to be a little mean :( a little spoiled, a little bratty! it makes it that much better when he finally gets you to be his sweet mushy baby that’s only that way with him !!
yuji knows that you have a bit of an attitude problem, and he knows that he probably enables it, never once chiding you for the way you speak and act with him.
you drag him shopping with you whenever the urge strikes, which is worryingly frequent, and shove bag after bag into his arms, not even so much as uttering a thank you, just fully expecting him to be your human pack-mule.
whenever he gives another woman his attention, even if for something as simple as giving out directions, you’re shooting daggers his way and refusing to speak to him, answering him with huffs and hmphs until you deem him worthy enough for actual words.
it’s mean, you’re mean, and he should really say something about it and get it under control… but he can’t deny that the spoiled, bratty act gets his cock hard and his brain fuzzy.
“god, yuji! it’s like you have a bunch of rocks up there or something!” your finger taps against his forehead twice as you bend at the waist, and he silently looks up at you, eyes lidded and cheeks flushed as his cock chubs up against his thigh. “it’s as if everything i say just goes in one ear and out the other, you never listen.”
you’ve got one hand on your hip, the other animatedly moving around as you talk a mile a minute, eyebrows scrunched together and eyes narrowed on him.
yuji has no idea what you’re saying, but he knows he’s heard this spiel a thousand times before and isn’t missing out on anything too important - at least, nothing more important than how badly he wants to stuff you full of his cock until you’re sputtering out apologies and drowning him in kisses.
you always get so sweet and pliant when he’s fucked you full—cunt full of his seed and hole left gaping. you make sure to cradle him close and kiss all over his face, hands running through his hair as you whisper i’m sorry’s into his skin.
“—doing it again! yuji, you’re not listening to me!” he zones back in just in time to see your hand coming towards him. “you’re so annoying. just go home—!” he snags ahold of your wrist, and with a gentle tug you’re falling forward into his lap, your hands shooting out to brace yourself against his chest, while his move to encircle around your waist, arms flexing and tensing as they pull you close, his aching cock pushing up into your cunt, thin layers of fabric keeping him from sinking inside.
“i’m sorry,” he rasps, your lashes fluttering as you give him a bewildered look. “let me make it up to you, yeah?” realization dawns after a moment, and you shake your head, hands weakly pushing at his shoulders.
“huh? no, yuji, i was—oh.” he rocks his hips into you, hands moving down to palm your ass, a cheek in each hand.
“please?” he croaks, cock aching and leaking and throbbing and begging to go where it belongs. “can i put it in? can i fuck you? can i make you come, baby? can i?” he rocks against you with every question, his forehead resting against yours as he holds your gaze. “let me show you how sorry i am, baby. let me make it right.”
and you give in, you always do, his sweet pliant girl. he just has to get his hands on you first, tell you what you need to hear, sit you on his cock and make you come a few times, maybe even get you to squirt depending on if he wants you to be nicer for a couple days.
it won’t last but so long, that little honeymoon phase you two go through every time yuji gets between your legs, but he’s already looking forward to the next time.
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