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casuallyawkardd · 4 months

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Hiiii o/

I was thinking about Miguel and reader having to go to a different universe to do something because of an anomaly and they are faced with spider man or better spider woman of that universe who is none other than Reader!

And of course they start to get along and Miguel has to stand there wondering what god he pissed off to deal with two of you kkkkkkk

But what is the situation if Reader 2 (tense moment) says "Oh, you also have a Miguel? It's so nice to know that my husband and I are together in another universe too! working together 😍😍" Just completely oblivious to the fact that Miguel and reader are not married 🫣 🫣 (or maybe even together yet 👀 ""But the two have feelings for each other and have that sexual tension, BUT NOBODY DOES ANYTHING" hehehe).

could you write something please please please.

......................

if you want you could also add this idea to your main story whatever you feel good about. Rsrsrsrs 😁😁

Cute! Love it, sorry the request took so long to fulfill, but enjoy 😘

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader

Warnings: fluff, wholesome vibes, awkward beans being awkward beans

It was another day at HQ, another day being one of the many versions of Spider-Woman, or so you thought. You had been assigned a mission, your partner none other than the Spider-Society leader himself. This wasn't what was out of the ordinary, in fact you had gotten used to being paired with Miguel. And you certainly didn't mind. It wasn't something you'd ever admit, but when the Spider-Man had approached you with the offer of joining an elite group of Spider people a couple of years ago, his looks weren't exactly a hindrance to his proposal.

Course you'd never try making a move on the man. Not only would it be highly unprofessional, but who knows how'd he respond. Miguel wasn't exactly the easiest to predict, he was known to fly off the handle on occasion. You having seen many a poor, inanimate object tossed across the room during one of his tantrums. While you didn't expect a reaction like that, the sour expression you'd seen him give many a spider wasn't something you'd like being on the receiving end of. And that was more likely than a trashcan coming at your head.

Speaking of, you finally spot the man himself. He's on the move, as expected, seeming to be stuck between talking to Lyla on his gizmo and chewing out some of the newer spider recruits. The good news is he's walking in your direction, meaning you don't have to pathetically attempt to catch up to his long strides.

"Hey Miguel," you say before he gets the chance to pass you, the sound of your voice giving him pause as he glances your way.

"Oh, there you are," he says in his usual monotone, coming to a stop beside you as he finishes with his gizmo, as well as giving direction to the new spider recruits on their assignments. When it's finally just the two of you, he lets out a heavy sigh, pinching the skin between his brows and massaging the muscle.

"I thought you said you weren't going to recruit anymore spiders," you comment, a bit of tease in your tone. "That there were too many to keep track of."

"There is," he said, almost woefully, "but with infinite universes, there's infinite problems." Miguel finally turns to look at you, something in his hardened expression relaxing when you make eye contact. It's the kind of moment that has the potential to make you weak in the knees, but gets quickly cut short as he clears his throat and turns away. "Come on, we've got a lot to do today."

"A lot being...?"

"I want to do a patrol in your universe, you just finished with canon event: Venom versus Spiderman, want to make sure that symbiote didn't leave anything behind," he starts, "then Earth-199999, that ones still recovering from the incident with Dr. Strange...There's also been reports of anomalies on Earths 31913, 44145 and 616."

"Wow, that is a lot," you say, wincing at the thought of the headache this day could bring.

Your comment makes Miguel scoff, the corner of his mouth turning upward as he looks back at you, "Don't worry, arañita. The two of us have a good track record, in terms of working together. You'll be back on your couch in time to watch that God awful show of yours."

"Hey! Just because it's a cartoon, doesn't mean it's awful! You'd like it if you just gave it a chance."

Miguel rolls his eyes, a puff of air passing his lips in a 'psh' sound. "Now that, I highly doubt."

A day spent patrolling and capturing anomalies was the definition of draining. The trip to your home turf was a good start to the day. Uneventful as the symbiote had been thoroughly dealt with, you were even able to convince Miguel to grab something to eat since the two of you skipped breakfast. Sitting on top of your apartment complex, overlooking New York, all while munching on some greasy burgers and fries was a surprisingly nice change of pace. Miguel even seemed to relax, that was until an alarm sounded on his gizmo.

It turned out that the reports about an anomaly on Earth-44145 were true. A universe where Norman Osborn was Spiderman had sightings of the Green Goblin flying about, wreaking havoc on the streets of New York. A couple scrapes and cuts, some bruised ribs and a few minutes dealing with two Normans in one room, the anomaly was subdued and the two of you were able to get back on track.

Earth-199999 was surprisingly very different from the universes you usually visited. Similar to your own, but with many more superheroes. After checking in on the Peter of this universe, as well as Dr. Strange, Miguel made a comment about they weren't even a dent into the cast of characters this universe had spat out. When you pried, Miguel let out a reluctant huff, mumbling something about showing you some other day.

Earth-31913 was Webslinger's territory and he was a big help in taking out a Sandman variant. The anomaly being in a universe based in the Old West was a terrible combination, the villain nearly taking out half the town. You could've sworn Miguel had a heart attack when you took the risk of toppling the old water tower to weaken the enemy, Miguel having to claw his way through a mound of wet sand to retrieve you. He looked almost ready to rip you apart himself, but when he found you relatively unharmed he calmed down.

Stepping into the final universe of the day, you let out a heavy sigh, "I don't think I can do this ever again," you huffed, "five universes in one day, three of them with different anomalies, I know we're superheroes and all, but I don't feel super right now."

Miguel didn't respond right away, tapping away on his gizmo for the hundredth time that day, "Then don't be so reckless. You're putting your body through the ringer without needing to."

"Don't tell me you're still mad about when I stole the Goblin's glider."

"You didn't steal the glider, your suit caught on one of the blades and you flew seven blocks, flailing and screaming."

"I did not flail. I-"

"Hold on," Miguel held up a finger, making your teeth grind together in annoyance. He was quiet for a moment, focused on the device on his wrist before looking into the distance. "Anomaly detected. Washington Street."

With that he was off, you needing to take a deep breath to gather your bearings before following after. You took inventory of your surroundings as the two of you swung through the air, looking for the differences that made this universe unique to itself. Surprisingly, it seemed like many of the other New York cities you had seen before, modern day with cars honking in the streets and civilians bustling to and from their destinations.

The two of you landed atop one of the tall buildings, Miguel scanning the area to pinpoint the anomaly in question. You did the same, in your own way, using your eyes over technology to overlook Washington Street, heightened senses working to your benefit.

Spotting a small building just down the road, your eyes lit up in delight, "What about over there?" you asked, pointing to the business in question.

Miguel looked up, walking to stand beside you. Once he realized what you were pointing at, he frowned in disapproval, "An ice cream parlor? How old are you again?"

"Har, har," you laugh sarcastically, rolling your eyes and activating the gizmo on your wrist. "C'mon, I've never seen another universe that had a Let's Be Dairy, besides the one in my universe," you started to explain, tapping away on the device, "plus, if I got sent to another universe against my will, I'd want something sweet to make me feel better."

Before he could respond, your gizmo pinged, picking up on a signal coming from the anomaly's presence. Ignoring your shit eating grin, Miguel led the way to the ice cream shop, overthinking how the two of you were going to get in while you simply landed by the front door and opened it, his plans flying out the window, much to his dismay.

It had grown late in this universe, the shop only having one or two customers still inside. While you were admiring just how similar it was to the one in your universe, Miguel brushed by, muttering something about going to search for the anomaly and leaving you to your own devices. While ordering your usual, a familiar chill went up your spine. The same one you had felt when you joined Spider-Society. Looking around, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Was there another spider in this universe?

Miguel had been searching for an embarrassingly long time, at least to his standard. The ice cream parlor wasn't that big and yet he had spent almost an hour searching for the damned anomaly. He wondered if something had gone wrong with his tech, smacking the device on his wrist with his palm in frustration. After pacing circles around the shop, to the point even the other patrons were looking at him funny, he felt he had finally cracked the code.

All this time, he had expected the anomaly to be hiding. Maybe in a backroom or in the bathroom, and yet here they were. Pinging on his device and showing they were in a corner booth all along. He debated finding you first, out number the target for a surefire capture, but he figured you were indisposed at the moment. Most likely on your second helping of the 'delicacy' this parlor provided.

His back was pressed against the wall, the anomaly just on the other side. All he had to do was round the corner, capture the anomaly and drag it and you back to HQ. With a deep breath, he lunged forward, device at the ready to capture the anomaly. As he prepared to launch the instrument, the wind was knocked from his sails at the sight before him.

First, he saw you. Mid bite of what did indeed look like a second helping of ice cream, eyes wide in shock at his sudden arrival. Across from you in the booth was...you. At least she looked like you. Sure, her hair was longer, a different color and texture. Her spidersuit was different too, concealed with an oversized jacket, but every facial feature of hers matched yours. What the hell...

"Jesus, Miguel, you gave me a heart attack," you said, the you he knew, hand going to your heart to will it to start beating again.

He didn't respond right away, eyes darting between the two of you. "What..what am I even looking at?" he settled on asking, a pinch of annoyance hitting him when the two of you exchanged teasing looks.

"I found the anomaly," you said.

"And it's me," said the other you.

"Told you anomalies like ice cream."

"Vale, vale, I get it," Miguel huffed, tech used to capture an anomaly now put away. Sighing heavily, his arms crossed over his chest, taking in the sight of the two of you once more. Finally, his eyes settled on 'you'. "How did you get here?"

"Well..." you started, "I was on my way home, after a long day of saving New York city," 'you' added the last bit in a teasing tone, "and suddenly there was this portal and boom! I'm in another New York, glitching in and out of reality."

"You're not glitching now."

"I gave her a day pass," you chimed in, the other you lifting her wrist to show the device in question.

Miguel's eyes narrowed, "Those are for exclusive personnel only."

"Oh, stop it. I'm not just gonna sit here and watch a version of me suffer," you pout at him and he scoffs, rolling his eyes at your childish behavior.

"Well, if you two are done, we can send you back home," Miguel looked to 'you', who nodded eagerly at the opportunity. The three of you made your way out of the ice cream shop, Miguel and you walking shoulder to shoulder while other you tagged along behind. She watched contently as the two of you bickered, in a way that made her smile nostalgically.

"You two are cute," she finally said once you three stepped outside, "I'm glad that I have a Miguel in another universe too."

That comment gave you both pause, looking back at her, "You have a Miguel in your universe?" you asked.

She nodded eagerly, tugging her suit to reveal her hand, adorning a wedding ring. "Yeah, our husband," she said it like it was the most obvious thing to know and your jaw dropped. 'You' didn't seem to take notice, continuing on, "Well, the Miguel in my universe isn't Spider-Man, he's just a scientist. But he helps out when he can, my man behind the computer I guess," she chuckled softly. "Anywho, I should be getting home, yeah? He's probably got dinner ready, don't want my Miguel to worry."

"Right," Miguel finally spoke after a long pause, scanning 'you' with the gizmo and creating a portal to her dimension. "You know, if you're ever interested in helping out other universes..."

"Hmm, I'm good," the other you said, smiling. "One of me helping out is good enough." Flashing another cheeky smile, she stepped through, the portal shutting after her. With nothing left to do, Miguel and you returned to HQ, a long day of work behind you both.

"That's crazy isn't it? I mean, it makes sense, but it's still weird meeting another you," you rambled as the two of you walked through the hallway. Miguel didn't say much in response, just humming in acknowledgement. "A universe where we're married, you don't suppose-"

"Are you free this weekend?" Miguel interrupted, stopping in his tracks and facing you. The suddenness caught you off guard, but you caught up quickly.

"Yeah, why?"

"We should do something together."

One of your brows quirked upward, "And what would we do?"

Miguel shrugged, "Well, you keep raving about some ice cream parlor back in your universe. Let's start with that."

Tags: @prettylittlebrowngirl @khaleesihavilliard @leahnicole1219 @edgycatx @graysonshaven @qiaipia @3zae-zae3 @melovetitties @jebsoxnoshansk @thedevax @erissco @its-carlerrr @muimui06 @cheezit-luv3rr @leo-lvr @stqrlightrs

#miguel o'hara #reader insert #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara headcanons #miguel o'hara x you #x reader #anon ask #lovely anon

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exitpursuedbyavulcan · 1 year

Text

A collection of all my writing. ♡

12 Days of Smuff Masterlist

Aemond Targaryen x OC

Series Masterlist (ONGOING) (18+)

Lady Arianwyn Targaryen, Lady of Runestone, was not born of love. Nor passion. Nor even a sense of duty. She was seeded by her father, the Rogue Prince Daemon Targaryen, in an act of unbridled hatred, and borne of her mother, the late Lady Rhea Royce, as a desperate grasp at revenge. But even a child born of such darkness can find her way to the light. With her mother dead, and father flown across the Narrow Sea with a new wife, the girl is taken in by her Aunt, the Queen Alicent Hightower, to be raised among the little family she has left. There, she finds her cousin, Prince Aemond Targaryen. As they grow, the two find themselves indelibly bonded. The two spend long nights in the palace library together, studying the histories of both Old Valyria and the First Men, seeking to understand who they are and where they fit in the world. But finding that place proves more difficult than in the fairy tales they read. The seeds of disaster were laid long before they were born, and as tensions in the family rise, it seems as though their places may begin to diverge. Will they let themselves be pulled apart as the dragons dance?

Warnings: Mentions of rape, m/f smut, violence

Studious (ONGOING) (18+) Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Moodboard by @sapphirehearteyes

Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV - Part V - Part VI

Your marriage to the One-Eyed Prince is not as romantic as you hoped. The wedding night is beyond awkward and confusing, and afterward, your husband seems more than content to ignore you. But you keep finding yourself drawn to him, and the strange way he makes you feel. And though you don't know it, he is drawn to you as well.

Warnings: SMUT, p in v sex, masturbation (m and f) bad sex (these kids have no idea what they're doing), Aegon saying Aegon things, all the awkwardness in the world

What is Broken (WIP) Aemond Targaryen x Pregnant Sister-wife!Reader

Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV

The war, the "Dance of the Dragons," as they have come to call it, is over. And yet, you are not celebrating. You have just learned that your husband, Prince Aemond, spent the last months of the war with another woman in his bed. Not only that, but his mistress is pregnant. Just like you...

Warnings: Angst, pregnancy and related symptoms, infidelity, maybe smut in the future

Inconceivable (WIP) Aemond Targaryen x Sister!Reader

Part I - Part II

Westeros has been at peace for nearly a year, and a wedding has been planned to celebrate the anniversary. King Jacaerys will marry his aunt, the only surviving child of the Greens, and unite both Targaryen bloodlines at last. It is a fairy tale ending, but this is no ordinary fairy tale...

Warnings: Fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, chases, escapes, true love, miracles... Angst, grief, forced marriage, more to be added

My Fair Lady's Maid (WIP) (18+) Prince Aemond Targaryen x Lady's Maid!Reader

Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV

Frustrated with his grandsire's tedious and thorough process of choosing him a "suitable" bride, Aemond makes a declaration that a lady's maid could be indistinguishable from a true noblewoman so long as she was sufficiently dressed and educated in embroidery, conversation, and the like. Otto takes this as a challenge, and gives Aemond four months to turn one of Helaena's lady's maids into a noblewoman.

Warnings: Smut

The Girl at the Table (WIP) (18+) Michael Gavey x Reader

Michael has a plan for Oxford: complete his degree at the top of the class, avoid the wealthy, spoiled pricks that make up the majority of the student body, and stay focused. The plan begins well, until a girl begins sitting at his study table.

Warnings: Smut, math

Monsters in the Garden (ONGOING) (DDDNE) (18+) Ettore x Reader

Part I - Part II - Part III

No one comes to your garden but you, not even Dr. Dibs. So what is the most dangerous man on the ship doing leaning against your doorway and watching you work?

Warnings: SMUT; hand job; kissing; blood; mentions of rape, murder, and violence; female genital mutilation; vague mentions of corpse mutilation

Storge, Philia, Eros, and Agape (WIP) Osferth x Reader

Series Masterlist

When he arrives in Coccham to join with Lord Uhtred Ragnarsson's band of righteous warrior, Osferth does not get the greeting he expected. Uhtred himself is very clear that he has only accepted the young monk to irritate his father, and the few warriors he is introduced to delight in picking fun at him. Still, it is better than the monastery, the Lady of the estate is kind to him, and the servant girl who leads him to his new chambers is... something entirely new to Osferth. Something that, perhaps, will help him understand what the Bible means when it speaks of love.

Note: This is a series of inter-connected oneshots that can be read together or on their own.

That Pointy-Eared Blond Bastard (WIP) (18+) Half-Vulcan!Aemond x Human(?)Reader

Graduation - Away Team - Red Alert - Holodeck - Pon Farr

You are Aemond's greatest rival at Starfleet Academy. Or you would be, if he cared enough to have rivals. Vulcans don't care that much. But Aemond is only half Vulcan. And you... you bring out something decidedly non-Vulcan in him.

A Companion (WIP) Otto Hightower x Young Widow!Reader

Series Masterlist

At the suggestion of Princess Rhaenyra, King Viserys Targaryen had commanded that his Hand, Otto Hightower, find a new bride. Preferably at the King's own wedding to Otto's daughter Alicent. While the Princess intended the suggestion as a form of revenge for Otto's machinations which led to the royal engagement, he intends to make the best of it. While he has always known that his late wife, Madelyn, is the great love of his life, he welcomes the idea of finding a tolerable companion. What he doesn't expect is you, a lady widowed far too young, who begins to spark feelings within him he thought long extinguished.

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currently-reading-a-book · 29 days

Text

A Tale of Two Minds

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: The seemingly shy Dr. Spencer Reid is interrupting you at the library, but don't let his quiet demeanor fool you...

Genre: smut

Warning: crime scenes; talking about murder, heated kiss, made up facts (let me know if I forgot something)

Word 1118 Count: words

A/N: As always, any criticism is very welcome. Sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes. English is not my first language. Not proofread.

Anyway, enjoy :)

✧ 🎀 -------------------------------------------------------------- 🎀 ✧

The building was huge. The dull grey walls ran through the whole building, seeming to never stop. You could easily get lost in one of the many departments of the FBI. An outsider would declare this building old and labyrinthine. However, for you, it was home or the closest place to one. Of course, you only have limited access as you’re just a trainee. You could only get inside the school side of the building, but you only needed the library to feel safe. Every possible minute of your free time you spend there. Being surrounded by piles of thick complicated books, trying to study every field of knowledge that exists.

The sternmost part of the library was your favorite. Nobody was there and you could enjoy your peaceful solitude. This was also the part where unsolved closed cases were located. Reading through them, trying to find a repeating pattern, and making an accurate profile. Hoping the police can then find a suspect that fits the criteria. With this method, you have quite a success and solved relatively a lot of cases. That is actually how you got into the special program of the FBI. It all started when you were solving a case of strange murders your local police couldn’t solve. It turned out the priest took justice a bit too personally. You analyzed the victimology of the murders and started to make a profile. The police just needed forensic evidence, which luckily was found quickly.

As you were nearly done with your profile on a murder case, in deep focus, someone disturbed your beloved peace.

“You know sitting on the ground could raise your potential of getting sick by over 18%.” A shy voice stated.

Letting out a breath, you snapped your head around just to see a guy with long blond curly hair. You lowered your glance a bit and saw his ID Card. Your eyes shot open. You're on your feet within a few seconds. “This can’t be true, can it?” you thought.

“You’re Dr. Spencer Reid!”, you said, a bit too enthusiastic.

He backed up a bit, startled by your elation. He hesitantly nods his head. Of course, you heard of him, like everybody did. Maybe you liked him a bit too much, like not everybody did.

He worked at the Behavioral Analysis Unit (BAU) of the FBI and was also a professor at the academy. One of his most impressive traits was undoubtedly his intelligence. It was hard not to be impressed by the breadth and depth of his knowledge, which set him apart from others. You would often hear amazing stories about how his mind solved cases. He was incredibly skilled at what he did and a huge role model for many, also for you. Working with him was always a dream for many and again of course you dream about it too, maybe even more than others. “Suddenly, you remember your position. You’re a forensics student and he was an agent, even a doctor to begin with. Another point would be that you had a crush and didn’t want to scare him away.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I was too excited,” you slowly admitted, locking down.

Embarrassment was written across your chubby face. He took a step closer, gaining confidence. He smelled incredible, masculine yet fresh and pine. Just like you imagined.

“I see you’re trying to solve the “Lucifer Case” and have you gotten any further with it?”, he asked, trying to break the awkwardness.

You look into his eyes, trying to read him. Confused why he would show any interest in you, you try to find out any motive by analyzing his body language, but you can’t find anything too convincing. A moment later he was standing beside you, looking through the files spread around you on the floor.

“I was just about to finish my profile before you interrupted, Doctor Reid”, you told him quietly. Your shyness got the best of you.

“Oh, please call me Spencer, Y/N”, he responded promptly, “and I apologize for interrupting you.”

Your cheeks heated up. Looking at him shocked, he looked back smiling. Too astounded to notice that he had called you by your name, which you hadn’t told him yet.

“Wait, how do you know my name?”, she questioned him embarrassingly late.

His smile got bigger. Even though he was close before, he reduced their distance some more. Now your back was pressing against the bookshelf, unable to escape his intense gaze.

“Your reputation precedes you, Miss Y/L/N.” he hushed seductively.

You swallowed hard, staying quiet. “What could this mean?”, you thought to yourself. Everybody in the study facility always said Spencer Reid was a shy nerd, but now you’re standing in the library with him towering over you.

“I was very impressed by your profile of the Cryptic Puzzle Killings,” he whispered into your ear, “it was a genius profile.” His voice was sending shivers down your spine.

“Doctor Reid,” you stuttered, but then interrupted you.

“it’s Spencer, remember?” You couldn’t think straight anymore. “I was holding back too long, I couldn’t resist any longer Y/N, please forgive me for my bad-mannered roughness,” he muttered as his lip brushed faintly over your neck. This was the moment your breath stopped. Am I dreaming?

“Tell me if you want to stop,” he muttered as he placed sloppy kisses around my neck.

“No, don’t stop.” That was the only thing you could say; his hands feeling too good on you. How he griped your hips pressing your hips more into his clothed erection. Feeling his touch like hot burns all over your body.

“I needed to use this opportunity,” he breathed .

As you wanted to reply to his confession, all of a sudden, another voice was calling for Spencer. Your cheeks flushed even more at the thought of getting caught with Spencer at this situation.

“Spencer, I said I would talk to her!” A stern voice was speaking with such authority.

Spencer quickly stepped back, taking all his warmth with him. You were looking around, overwhelmed with the situation, trying to figure out what was happening. Still feeling hot after your heated situation with Dr. Reid. Spencer was now around two meters apart from you, smiling at you shyly. His duality will kill you someday.

“Hotch I am here,” he quickly yelled back.

Whispering a quick apology to you before the tall black-haired guy showed up before us. His firm eyes looked into yours. He was standing in front of you with a straight face. Frankly, he seemed like a strict guy who didn’t understand any jokes. You’re starting to get the feeling that you did something bad. Your mouth got dry.

“Are you Y/N/Y/L/N?” the man asked you.

You nodded your head skeptically. Unsure of what consequences it might bring.

“I am Aaron Hotch, Supervisory Special Agent and Unit Chief of the BAU,” he continued, “And I am asking you Y/N to join the team of the BAU.”

Your head began to spin.

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yuna542 · 10 months

Text

[2]<-

[3]

›Bad Idea<

Pairing: Hong Woojin × Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst, Enemies with benefits to Lovers

Warnings: 18+, explicit Smut, under 18 DNI!, Suggestive Themes, Swearing, pet names, oral (m & f receiving), hate sex, ANGST, overstimulation

Word Count: 8.3k

Note: There you go. Part 3. If you have requests about Bloodhounds tell me and I will write something <3

Summary: As GunWoo’s little sister he wanted you to finally meet his best friend. Unfortunately you don't get along. He gets on your nerves, you fight all the time and yet you can't stop messing with each other. One evening you get into a dangerous situation and end up bruised and bloody at his apartment. And you suddenly have to ask yourself: Why do you feel so attracted to that idiot?

Chapter 4:

The Café

It was a summer day, just a few clouds hid the blue sky, but nonetheless mornings were less busy during the week. Most people grabbed a coffee before work or on their break and disappeared again.

Just as you were collecting an espresso, the store doorbell rang and you said goodbye to the man in the suit who always got an iced Americano at this hour.

When you saw who came sauntering through the door with his hands in his pockets, your expression darkened like a thunderstorm.

Woojin had a gym bag slung over his shoulder, and when he spotted you, your nostrils twitched with less than enthusiasm. You pulled your ponytail tighter and brought the espresso and a piece of strawberry cake to the only guest who was reading a newspaper at a table, ignoring the seductive glare that followed you.

The old man thanked you and for the first time you cursed that so few guests came. Woojin leaned casually against the counter and waited until you were standing behind it again.

You felt his gaze wander up and down your body.

"What are you doing here? I'm working!" you snapped at him in a hushed voice so the old man with the newspaper wouldn't hear.

Woojin leaned over the counter until his nose almost touched yours and raised his eyebrows provocatively as he said just as muffled:

"I can see that. You look much more friendly in that apron, by the way. It suits you."

Uncomfortably, you tugged at the red apron you had pulled over your black miniskirt and top. Before he embarrassed you further with his seductive eyes that shone like bitter coffee, you cleared your throat and crossed your arms in front of your chest.

"Shut up. What are you doing here?" you asked with a meaner tone than you intended.

However, the whole thing was so awkward because you couldn't stop staring at his lips that had been kissing you all over just a few hours ago and his hands that you could still feel on your hips.

He propped his elbows on the counter and tilted his head. It was clear how much fun he was having annoying and embarrassing you.

In truth, he had only come here on the off chance, without knowing that you were working today. When he spotted you behind the counter, with that cute apron, Dr martens and knee socks peeking out from underneath, his heart skipped a beat.

"You just disappeared this morning... I wanted to see if you were okay. Since we yesterday..."

"What do you care? Nothing happened," you quickly replied, moving a few things from one place to another so you wouldn't have to look at him any longer.

"Right... Absolutely nothing. I‘m a bit broke right now. Do you think you could be merciful and give me something? For free? That strawberry pie really looks..."

"Stop it! You're not getting anything now. I‘m not my mother who falls easily for your charming smile. I'll bring the rest of the pastries to the hall later. So get the hell out of here!" you harshly interrupted him, and that's when a new customer came into the café. Immediately you put on a smile and shooed Woojin away with a wave of your hand.

You really couldn't stand the racing heart and strange tingling in your stomach. So you hoped it would go away with him.

Instead of leaving, he stepped aside and just came behind the counter while you were taking the order. You glared at him as you stood by the coffee machine and he casually leaned against the wall next to it as if he owned the place.

"Always so cheeky," he muttered so softly that only you could hear. By now your head was almost bursting with anger and you had to force yourself not to yell at him in front of the customer.

"I hate you," you hissed, before you turned to serve the finished coffee. The young man thanked you, paid, and by the time he disappeared in the doorway, the corners of your mouth hurt from the forced smile.

Instantly, you whirled around to Woojin and stepped close to him so he could hear you clearly as you growled dangerously:

"Get the hell out of here! Why are you getting on my nerves all the time?"

That's when he braced himself from the wall and was suddenly much taller than you again. An intimidating glint entered his eyes and he pushed you back until your back hit the counter.

"Because I like it when you glare at me so angrily. It’s kind of sexy," he replied in a muffled voice, and you swallowed hard as his breath brushed hotly against your lips. Concerned, you glanced briefly at the old man, but he was completely engrossed in his newspaper.

"Woojin stop it!" you gasped as soon as he propped one hand each to your right and left, trapping you between his chest and the counter.

His presence was so engaging that your knees went weak and you would have loved to lunge at him and rip that stupid shirt off. Instead, you jutted your chin defiantly and tried to look angry.

"I love it when you act all controlling like that knowing damn well I can leave you shaking under me," he muttered with amusement and your breath caught.

Your glares locked and you rolled your eyes.

"It wasn't even that good," you replied monotonously, hitting the mark. His jaw twitched and he laughed bitterly. Satisfied, you smiled sweetly, though you just clawed convulsively at the counter.

"Really? It sounded a little different yesterday..."

You shrugged indifferently.

"It was nothing special."

The lie came easier to your lips than you had expected.

"Then how do you blush so much? I'm not even touching you and you are falling apart", he continued to provoke, and his lips brushed yours for a teeny second. For a moment you closed your eyes, wanting to lean forward and check if he still tasted the same as yesterday.

Just in time you thought better of it, and you winced violently as the doorbell rang, announcing a new customer.

Woojin finally let go of you and took a few steps back. Only then did you realize you had been holding your breath. The customer was the owner of the bookstore across the street, who always went to get a few pieces of cake and sandwiches for her family.

"Good afternoon Mrs. Yang. Can I get you the usual?" you greeted her with glowing cheeks and you feared she could hear your heartbeat across the counter.

She adjusted the green glasses on her nose and smiled kindly.

"Oh Y/N. Is your mother not here today?"

Woojin walked back into the room in time to greet the man with a quick hand gesture, who looked up from his newspaper for the first time and only now seemed to notice him.

"No. I'm afraid she's indisposed."

Mrs. Yang nodded understandingly and looked at what you had already prepared in the counter.

"It's very nice to see you again, too. Give her my best regards!"

"Of course," you replied, daring a tense glance at Woojin, who was watching you. Why did he always have to look at you as if there was nothing else around him? You tried to deny the fact that he was looking directly at you by rolling your eyes, but when he did it more than occasionally with that infamous smirk on his face, it confirmed the theory that he just wanted to annoy you.

"I already put cake back for you," you remembered, and were about to turn around when she raised her hands defensively.

"Oh I think your friend was here before me," she said, pointing at Woojin, who bowed briefly. Before he could say anything, you fixed him warningly with piercing eyes that brooked no argument:

"No, not at all. He was just leaving anyway. And he's not my friend."

You emphasized the last sentence especially and that's when the lady looked back and forth between you in astonishment.

"Oh no? I always see him here and with you."

"He's Gunwoo's friend, and my brother is actually waiting for him," you replied, and Woojin's expression remained impenetrable.

"That's true. I should be on my way. Have a nice day," he wished and bowed to the old lady before strolling out of the store with his hands in his pockets as if nothing had ever happened.

"Strange boy," you heard the lady mutter as you prepared her order.

"You don't say," you replied, anger mixed with confusion. You had lost control and didn't know what to do.

"Well, but he looks good..." she added, and a hysterical laugh escaped you.

Chapter 5:

The Flirt

Shortly after you called it a day and took off your apron, your thoughts still turned to Woojin. As much as you wanted to banish him from your thoughts, you found it increasingly difficult.

With the basket full of leftover pastries, you made your way to the hall where Gunwoo and Woojin trained with their coaches and other boxers almost every day.

The pastries consisted of rice cakes, some stuffed pancakes that you would have thrown away and especially egg bread.

This was Woojin's favorite. The first time he had tried it in the store, his eyes had almost fallen out and he had eaten so much of it that he had been sick for days. When you caught yourself smiling at the thought, you pinched your arm in punishment.

As you walked into the hall, the boys' attention was immediately on you and the basket of goodies.

Normally your mother did this regularly, now when the boxers saw you they froze in front of their punching bags and the guy who was in the ring with Woojin almost got hit by a punch because he was just staring at you.

Gunwoo broke away from his spot where he had just been throwing punches with his trainer and put an arm around you as he led you to the center of the room.

"Nice to see you again Y/N," the trainer said and you returned his smile.

"I'm just bringing something to strengthen."

The tall guy with the short hair who was standing in the ring with Woojin climbed out and stripped off his boxing gloves. You deliberately avoided looking in Woojin's direction. He was shirtless, sweat glistening on his muscles, and you couldn't bear the sight of his damn perfect body right now.

You were, to tell the truth, too afraid to give in to the heaping testosterone and accidentally lick him. Woojin's looks were easy to overlook when everything that came out of his mouth was rubbish, you just became painfully aware of that again.

"Heaven sent you!" the other boxer said, daring to look into the basket.

The others gathered around you as well and you set the basket down at the edge of the ring, where the boxers pounced on it like wild dogs.

They were all muscularly built, sweaty from training, and you didn't know where to look among all the half-naked bodies. Your eyes widened for a brief moment as the shock of Woojin's body that you had seen many times, especially while boxing, it still amazed you how attractive this man was.

Gunwoo also got some of the egg bread and then joined his trainer. They were all preparing for important amateur fights to maybe make it to the professional league someday.

Just as Woojin was about to come your way, you turned the other way and joined the big guy with whom he had been standing in the Ring.

"How's it going?" you engaged him in conversation, and Woojin stayed with Gunwoo, though not without looking over at you again and again.

"It's going pretty well I think.... The competition is tough. But we can learn a lot from each other," he said, eyeing you unobtrusively.

You leaned against the wall next to the punching bag and looked at the boxer more closely. He was good looking, probably the same age as you, and had a nice smile.

"I'm Woonho, by the way," he introduced himself, running a hand through his wet sweaty hair.

"I'm Y/N. Gunwoo's sister."

Woonho nodded and looked over at your brother, and that's when he noticed Woojin's piercing gaze as well. It was like he wanted to stab him with it.

"That's cool. Gunwoo and Woojin are the best around. They talk a lot about you. How do you feel about boxing?"

The question reached you unexpectedly. Looking at him confused, you laughed lightly.

"I've never tried it before. I don't think it's for me."

"Oh. I thought because of the injury," he said, pointing to his own temple. Reflexively, you grabbed the spot and winced as you were painfully reminded of the bruise.

"Oh, that? I was looking at my phone and ran into a door frame," you lied, and there he was, smiling brightly. He had cute dimples and loyal eyes.

"I think you'd make a good boxer."

"Really?" you asked incredulously and he nodded vehemently.

"Sure. It's not that hard. All you have to do is make a fist, stand up right and punch."

He demonstrated and punched the punching bag. Smiling enthusiastically, he held out a hand invitingly.

"Try it!"

"Okay. But if I hurt myself it's your fault!" you chuckled wryly.

"I'll take that."

You stood as he showed and tried to strike.

Amused, he corrected your posture by touching your hip and wrists.

Woojin boiled inside when he saw you laughing and as soon as Woonho touched you too and you looked up at him with your warm eyes, he wanted to punch someone's face. Preferably Woonhos.

An animalistic growl rose from his throat and something stung painfully in his chest when he saw how much fun you were having with the younger boxer. He stopped following the conversation with Gunwoo a long time ago. His gaze was fixed on you and how you playfully brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

You were flirting that was more than obvious. He shouldn't care about that. He shouldn't care at all, and yet he pushed Gunwoo aside in mid-sentence and his legs carried him over to you as if by themselves.

Before anyone could comprehend what was happening, Woojin had already grabbed him, yanked him back by the shoulder, and was staring relentlessly into his eyes.

"Hey keep your hands off her, you hear me?" he snapped at him.

Woonho just raised his hands defensively and took a few steps back when he saw the anger in Woojin's eyes.

"Relax. We were just talking. I didn't know she was your girl."

Stunned, you stepped next to Woonho and glared angrily at Woojin.

"She definitely is not."

Woojin didn't respond. He was like in a tunnel and his anger was directed only at Woonho. Even though he was smaller, he seemed a lot more intimidating and you were starting to not be sure if he wasn't just going to punch him.

Completely perplexed, you could only stare at him.

What had gotten into him? The rest in the hall had also fallen silent and were watching the scene.

"Well did you get it? Piss off or do you want me to finish you off like in the ring?"

Now it was a clear threat.

Woonho didn't seem to think it would be worth it and gave in. Silently he grabbed his stuff and disappeared from the hall. Shaking your head, you watched as Woojin ran back to Gunwoo and continued the conversation as if nothing had ever happened.

His arrogance made you so angry that you gritted your teeth. The anger burned inside you, but you held back until Woojin was the last to disappear into the locker room. The rest were already ready to leave and were still chatting outside the hall.

You seized the moment and stormed into the locker room. The door flew shut loudly behind you and Woojin whirled around from his locker to face you.

"What the fuck was that about?" you yelled at him, but he just packed his boxing gloves into his bag, unimpressed. He was still wearing the red shorts and sweat glistened on his muscles in the orange light of the small room.

"I don't know what you mean."

You thought you were going to burst with anger. Quickly you ran up to him, slamming the locker shut with one hand so he'd stop occupy with it and look at you.

"Don't act even dumber than you are! Why did you do that?"

"Did you want something from the little shit?" he asked as if it was your fault, since you had approached him.

"That's not the point... You have no right to it! I don't belong to you. We were just fucking! Nothing more. And it was a mistake. A big fucking mistake."

He watched your eyes spark, and you could clearly tell from the twitch of his jaw that he was starting to get angry, too.

Or his anger was just now coming to the surface.

"Oh yeah, are you so in need of it that you want to get it from some random douche bag? Do you need attention that bad? I can call him, he'd fuck you right now."

His words causing you to growl and nearly punch him in the mouth. Maybe if you did it hard enough, he would never talk again. You heavily considered it.

„You fucking asshole. I don't know why I'm even talking to you."

Stunned, you massaged your temples and you turned around because otherwise you would surely punch him in his pretty face. He drove you crazy just by breathing. You wanted to leave. You wouldn't get a normal response besides insults anyway.

"What, are you just going to walk away? Are you that much of a coward?" he shouted after you and that made you spin around.

"Shut up already!" you yelled, and you would have loved to throw yourself on the floor and cry. But your pride wouldn't let him have the last word.

"You really are pathetic!"

"You went out of your way to flirt with him in front of me to piss me off, didn't you?" he hurled at you, storming at you until he was standing close to you, taking away any air you could breathe. You looked up at him, your lower lip twitching uncontrollably as you did so.

"Why are you getting mad at me for flirting with someone else? We slept together once, doesn't mean we're exclusive. You hate me! So what's your problem?"

Why was he staring at your lips when you were arguing? The lump in your throat was getting bigger and the tension in the air was starting to crush you.

"Yeah, well, I don't like seeing other people all over you even if we're nothing more than just two people who like to have sex with each other. So what about it? Even though I hate you, it bugs me."

No matter what you said, it just made everything more confusing.

"You have no right to do that! Act like a normal person for once and not an asshole!" you hissed emphatically.

"Then don't act like a desperate bitch!"

Anger shot through your veins like poison and before you even realized what you were doing, you lashed out and punched his face.

However, unluckily he was a boxer and caught your fist with ease before it even touched him. Saying you were flushed and flustered during the argument was an understatement. You felt like you were bathing in a sauna on a summer day. The anger that bubbled under your heated skin didn't help in cooling you down. It only made you more furious that his little provocations affected you so easily.

Surprised, he clasped your wrist and it hurt.

"Don't you dare do that again!", he growled and still you took out your other fist. Maybe just because of his threat.

However, he caught that one too and so he held both your wrists.

Before you knew what was happening, he was pushing you against the locker and pinning both of your hands above your head against the cool metal so you couldn't attack him further, which was probably wise since you wouldn't have stopped.

"I hate you," he growled, and you just took in his body pressed tightly against yours. The acid that spat from your mouth always ignited a fire inside of him that he's never felt from anyone else.

"I hate you too," you murmured, and already his nose was brushing your cheek. He shielded you from the room with his muscular shoulders, and the coolness of the locker door at your back completely exposed you to him.

Breathlessly you gazed at each other and the crackling energy was palpable.

His eyes gleamed lustfully and you unconsciously bit your lower lip as he pushed your legs apart with his knee and stepped even closer to you until your hips were firmly against each other.

He wasn't just hot, he was beautiful. From the symmetrical lines of his cupids bow to the dark lashes framing chocolate eyes, he was hypnotic. And he had you completely under his spell.

The anger and hatred between you turned the energy into arousal and the two of you crashed together with teeth and lips, a brawl of desperate hands and angry grudges. He pressed you against the locker at the waist, let go of your hands and grumbled as you pressed your body against his. Fingers tangled in hair immediately, tugging and scratching. His lips were pillowy and soft, addictive. He couldn’t stop watching you. Hair a mess, eyes blown wide, and lips swollen. It was a glorious sight.

He rushed under your shirt, pulled it over your head and you got rid of your shoes in parallel. While your hands were occupied on getting rid of your clothes, neither of you cared about anything else but finally feeling each other's bodies to blow off steam.

After he also undid your bra and threw it aside, he ran his fingers over your covered cunt.

"You're already so wet and I haven't even done anything yet," he murmured, cupping your breast with one hand while the other pulled off your panties.

He circled his index and middle fingers over your clit until you gasped into his mouth between kisses. The kiss was rough, full of hatred. Both of you fighting for dominance, not willing to lose it, not even for a second.

You impatiently pulled down his shorts and underwear, which he also kicked aside. Finally you felt his length again, which you had been thinking about constantly.

"We don't have much time. Gunwoo is waiting," you said, stroking his shoulder blades, while he was already hard again. Excitedly you looked up at him, but your heart skipped a beat when he looked at you with the mischievous grin. There was an insatiable hunger in his eyes, yet he pressed a kiss to your jawline and murmured:

"Say it! Say what you want!"

You couldn't bring yourself to say the words- couldn't stand the thought of asking your mortal enemy to fuck you in the locker room at his own boxing gym.

"Tell me you want me to ruin you," he whispered in your ear, putting more pressure on your clit so that your body melted in his hands.

"I want you to fuck me, Woojin. Ruin me, please!" you said, rolling your hips against him, making him gasp sharply.

"Good girl," he replied, and you got goosebumps. Without further ado, he grabbed your ass, lifted you up and you automatically wrapped your legs around his hips. His tip was already stretching your entrance, but it wasn't until your back was pressed firmly against the locker that he slid inch by inch inside you. As he did so, a sigh ripped off him as your walls snuggled around him. A whimper escaped you and he held you with ease.

When he was fully absorbed in you, he looked at you urgently.

"You have to be quiet or they'll hear us," he stressed, and you had completely forgotten that everyone including your brother was still in the hall cleaning up.

He didn't give you any time to adjust, one hand grabbing your hip, the other groping your breast, as he started to slam into you at an unforgiving pace. The temperature that began to rise on your cheeks was spreading to your limbs, muscles slowly coiling as the pleasure continued to build at your core.

The locker creaked dangerously with each thrust and you tried to stifle your noises, but it wasn't easy as he thrusted deeper and deeper, your eyes almost cloudy from how good he truly felt inside of you. Another sensual kiss ensured, the combination of his raspy moans and your desperate whines slipped into each other, trying to stay quiet and muffle both of your sinful noises with messy kisses. The locker hitting the wall with each thrust.

It was almost ridiculous how fast your orgasm rolled on while he slammed into you.

You didn't really want to admit how good he was at fucking you, but by now there was no question. The knot in your lower abdomen tightened and while you tried to be quiet, you clawed into his back so hard you would definitely leave scratch marks.

"Your so tight... Fuck," he growled, spreading wet kisses down your neck that made you whimper. Desperate, you struggled to stop your naughty noises.

"Woojin... Don't stop!" you moaned, and he felt your body tremble.

"Come around me! It's okay, dollface," he gasped and even stepped it up a notch.

Your body betrayed you, obeying his command instantly, your body sucking his cock in deeper, ready to fall off the edge. You dissolved into the pleasure, pressing your hand over your mouth so as not to let everyone else in the hall know how well Woojin was fucking you.

But as the climax washed over you, he didn't stop.

As if it spurred him on even more, he continued to penetrate you and the look on your overwhelmed face made his dick twitch excitedly inside you. Your pussy was pulsating and overstimulated. Each of his thrusts you felt all the way up your spine and you feared fainting if he was going on at that pace.

As your nails dug deeper into his back and you tried to push him away, as it was all too much, he put a hand around your neck and pressed you against the locker, making it hard for you to move.

"I'm not done with you yet!" he pressed out between clenched teeth, and gradually his thrusts became more irregular.

Like a wild animal, he fixed you and when he increased the pressure on your neck, your eyes rolled back.

"I won't stop until I've filled your tight sweet cunt up and you can't walk anymore."

"Fuck you," you gasped in a trembling voice and by now you were sure you couldn't walk anymore. It was a power play that would never end. His hand on your neck and his never ending abuse of your pussy had you floating in the clouds.

The second orgasm rolled in with a ferocity that made your legs tremble. The sight of your fucked out face, your breasts bouncing with each thrust and your sore pussy finally brought him over the edge and you came together.

Like drowning you clung to each other and savored your orgasms.

Then he lowered you slowly and you had to sit down on the bench first. He also let himself fall on it, breathing heavily, you tried to bring your pulse under control.

Silently you gathered your clothes, got dressed and tried not to let on how difficult every step was for you. Your legs trembled incessantly and calmed down only after you had finished dressing.

Woojin also slipped into his clothes, but the silence was not unpleasant. It was soothing and even though you had argued and you were still angry, you felt comfortable with him.

At the door you paused for a moment and looked over your shoulder.

"This changes nothing i still hate you," you assured him and he nodded.

"Sure you do," he replied and the brief moment you looked at each other you smiled stupidly.

Chapter 6:

The Headphones

The next few days were not as strange as you thought they would be. In fact, everything was the same as before, only the meaningful looks between you were new.

Just like the racing heart that would kill you when he accidentally touched your arm at dinner or pushed you to the side while you were walking.

Relatively quickly, you realized that it was really nothing more than a fuck for him, and it should be for you. When he visited Gunwoo, you got a disparaging look and when it came to food, he still pushed you aside roughly to be the first to get Mom's famous omelet. But it didn't let you rest easy that he was the only one who made you feel such intense things.

Surely it couldn't just be him?

You tossed and turned in your bed a week later, once again plagued by thoughts of the jerk. He wouldn't let you go and even haunted your dreams. It was a catastrophe and you would have liked to forget everything that had happened. But you couldn't.

Nothing had happened between you for a week. In fact, you argued more often and were even more hostile, but without the sex.

Your body longed for it. Sighing, you stared at the ceiling. Today you were alone.

Gunwoo was out with Mom and so you had the house to yourself.

Lost in thought, you stroked the fabric of Woojin's shirt that you still wore at night.

You just haven't had a chance to give it back to him yet. At least that's what you told yourself.

You slept in it and it smelled so nice. It was stupid and naive, but when you closed your eyes and smelled it, you imagined that he was with you, touching your body and kissing your neck.

With your eyes closed, you played with the hem of the shirt. Underneath you only wore panties. You didn't want to leave the house today anyway. It was raining and you were afraid of being tormented by those damn thoughts about that arrogant idiot all the time.

The racing heart, the heat in your cheeks and the fluttering in your stomach had become annoyingly loud by now.

Your fingers danced on your belly and caressed your thighs. Closing your eyes, you imagined again how Woojin's fingers firmly but lovingly touched your soft skin. It was like a drug, that saved you from loosing it and keeping you sane.

Slowly your fingers found their way between your legs and you let them slide into your panties.

You inhaled deeply as you concentrated on the movements, trying to give yourself the same pleasure that Woojin had gave you. You first ran your fingers down your slit, collecting that sweet arousal until it coated your fingers. You then moved up to your clit, rubbing it in quick circles.

Soft sighs escaped you as you tried to chase the feeling, kneading your breasts through his shirt until you contorted your face in annoyance.

Touching yourself had always given you satisfaction, but the liberating feeling was gone. That was all Woojin's fault. Ever since you slept together, nothing felt comparable.

"Do you need a little help?"

You almost screamed and jumped out of the bed. Completely startled, you straightened up and stared at the curly-haired man leaning casually in the doorway, his cheeks flushed despite his annoying grin.

Staring at him in disbelief, you wrapped the blanket around your body, like it would hide the embarrassing situation he bursted into.

"What the hell Woojin? Do you like stalking women and breaking into their houses?" you yelled, anger equal to shame turning your face red and made your voice stumbling.

He raised your front door key in the air and jingled it as he said:

"Actually I didn't break in. Gunwoo gave me the key."

"That doesn't answer why you're here!" you snapped at him, wishing you could have sunk into the ground.

"I forgot my headphones."

He pointed to the black headphones that were now around his neck, the ones he always carried around. He took them off and waved them in front of you, as if it would made it any less awkward for you.

It was such a simple answer that you could only stare in confusion.

"Can I come in?" he asked, as if he hadn't just caught you masturbating.

"What, no?" it ripped out of you, but he had already pulled the door shut behind him and was wandering around your room. With his hands in his pockets, he looked around at your dressing table, your plants, and the pictures on the walls that often featured Gunwoo, Mom, and your friends from highschool.

Stunned by his audacity, you watched him from your bed. Today he looked annoyingly handsome again. His curls fell tangled in his forehead and he wore a tank top that was cut wide at the sides so you could see his abs.

"Can you get out of here?" you asked, and that's when he turned to you and said:

"Is that my shirt you're wearing?"

You almost choked on your own words as you wanted to hurl some insult at him, but the sudden racing of your heart stopped you. By now your head was as red as a tomato. You had to be running a fever.

"How long were you standing at the door?" you asked a little more meekly, pinching the bridge of your nose. If he watched, while you were touching yourself in his shirt, you would definitely take the next flight and never come back.

Curiously he pulled open one of your drawers and pulled out a pair of black lace underwear.

"Long enough..." he muttered, grinning as you jumped off the bed, ripping your underwear out of his hand and slamming the drawer loudly shut.

"What are you even thinking? Stop touching my stuff!What are you doing here?" you asked harshly, poking him in the chest with your index finger.

He eyed you with amusement as your body lay softly under the fabric of his shirt and your bare legs extended out underneath.

"Just my headphones. That's when I heard you and came to see if you might need help."

The shame made your hands shake at the thought of him hearing your desperate sighs and moans.

"Great."

You turned your head toward him, trying to look confident and unbothered by his whole presence.

"Now get the fuck out of my bedroom! I don't want to look at your annoying face for a while."

"I can help you..." he murmured challengingly, suddenly pulling you closer by the waist. A startled gasp escaped you as his thumb traced circles on your hipbones and his eyes bored into yours.

"What do you mean?" you asked, completely distracted by his lips once again.

He gestured to your bed.

"I can make you come... You just have to ask nicely, dollface," he replied, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement as you exhaled in annoyance.

Hong Woojin was a flirt, and a good one. You were experiencing his best lines. And the worst part was they worked. You wanted to push him away, maybe even slap him for his audacity, but you were desperate.

There was this desire and your body was on fire just by looking at him.

You nodded, which caught him completely off guard. Because he had actually also expected a blow and not a commitment. He wanted to tease you, to see that seductive blush on your cheeks and the way you bit your lower lip when you were angry. He knew you were a lot of things. Sarcastic, blunt, mean towards him, or so he thought. But he didn't thought you would be a tease.

"Okay. Good... Please make me come."

Your words were already making his jeans feel uncomfortably tight, and everything inside him tingled as he brushed a strand of hair out of your forehead.

"Then lie down and spread your legs, baby girl," he murmured and you got goosebumps all over your body. He was smug, overconfident. Irritatingly attractive.

You did as he said, sat down on the bed and spread your legs a little.

He looked at your panties with a hungry glint in his eyes. He knelt in front of the bed, between your thighs, and your heart hammered excitedly with anticipation. With both hands he grabbed you by the waist and lifted you to the edge of the bed with ease.

Then he slowly rolled your panties off your legs and pushed your knees apart with his hands. With an animalistic smile, he looked at your shiny middle.

"So pretty..." he murmured, and you were already getting so wet from it that you fell gasping onto your back.

He kissed your inner thighs and sucked lightly on your sensitive skin until he worked the spot with his mouth right next to where you actually wanted to feel him.

He smiled contentedly and when his tongue met your clit directly, an embarrassed whimper escaped you. He began circling the bundle of nerves with his tongue and sucking on it. He was addicted to the way you sighed and the way your body arched at his every touch. He never understood it, but when he was at your door and saw how flustered you were, it finally clicked.

He wanted you. Desperately wanted to make you feel good.

He enjoyed the view of the lines of your curves peeking out from under his shirt and your narrowed eyes as you tried to block out the noise. He licked a long strip across your slit and sucked hard on your clit, making you curse:

"Fuck! Woojin... Stop that damn teasing!“

Hearing his name come across your lips in such a filthy way made the heat shoot through his veins. Briefly, he stopped and looked at you.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked just to annoy you. With fluttering eyelids you sparkled at him, but he looked so beautiful, that you couldn't resist him any longer.

The dark curls framed his face like an engaging portrait, his eyes shone like liquid chocolate and his pink lips glistened from your wetness.

"For gods sake Woojin! I'll smash your face if you stop!"

The vibration of his chuckling laughter transferred directly to your core and you shuddered. With a smug smirk, he continued to itch your clit, giving you a blissful friction that had your eyes rolling. Once his tongue licked into your entrance, your stomach tensed as you bit your lip forcefully, containing all of your noises.

He started to eat you out as if you were his last meal, putting your legs on his shoulders to thrust even deeper with his tongue and his nose bumped teasingly against your clit.

It wasn't fair that he was even incredibly good at this. You clawed your fingers into the sheets and his name flowed like a mantra across your lips.

You almost forgot about his hand on your thighs until he squeezed them, slid down and grabbed the soft flesh of your ass to press you further against his face. Stars began to gloss over your vision as heated lust fogged up your mind.

His tongue penetrated you with increasing intensity. His mouth and chin were now full of your juices and he had rarely tasted anything more delicious.

If you let him, he would live forever between your legs.

"You taste like heaven, babe.... so good," he murmured, muffled by your cunt.

Then, as he sank two fingers into you and sucked on your clit, you felt your body float into the sky until you were seeing the clouds of pure ecstasy surround you. He was taking his time with you, partly for himself, savouring the moment, enjoying in the way you fell apart before him and partly to tease you into insanity.

You were afraid to explode as your orgasm washed over you without announcement.

Out of your mouth came curses and his name with the most pornographic sounds he had ever heard. You melted in his hands and as soon as your high faded he licked it all clean. Your pussy was sensitive and your hand flew into his hair as he continued.

Like an addict he kept fingering you and his plush lips kept working on your aching cunt.

"Woojin it's too much," you gasped overwhelmed as he brought on the next orgasm. He paused for a moment, looking at you and wishing he could have taken a picture. You looked beautiful with those puffy lips, buzzed look and beautiful eyes.

"You can take it, sweetheart. One more, okay?" he purred and with his sweet little smile, between your legs, you couldn't refuse him anything.

As his mouth rested on your pussy again and he pumped his fingers in and out, you began to see black dots. The next orgasm made your legs tremble around his head and you knew nothing more except his name flowing continuously over your lips.

The way you moaned his name, like it was the only one you knew, the only one that mattered, made his jeans feel impossibly tight. He started palming himself to get some relief.

But even then he didn't stop.

"One more baby. You can do it!" he said cheering you on, and you feared fainting with your next orgasm. However, your body craved it and pushed your hip right at him.

There was nothing left in your head but incoherent mass and as he pumped his fingers into you faster and low growls hummed from his throat, you came a third time. Only this time the world spun around you and your entire body was flooded with energy.

With a rattling breath you opened your eyes. You hadn't even realized you had closed them and looked down at Woojin who was wiping his mouth with his shirt.

"Fuck you squirted all over my face," he said, climbing up to you and propping himself up on the right and left sides of your head to look at you. You didn't even know you could do this.

You were still hovering somewhere between consciousness and drunkenness, unable to say a word.

"Are you all right?" he asked, lovingly stroking your temple, along your jaw, and with his thumb over your lower lip. Gradually you managed to fight your way back to reality and when you saw his brown eyes above you, you breathed a sigh of relief.

"It's all good..." you sighed even though your legs shook that much that you would probably never be able to walk again.

"Was that good?" he asked, sounding genuinely interested. Instead of answering, you pulled him down to you by the back of his neck and kissed him. Immediately your bodies were pressed against each other and he moved his lips against yours as if he had been waiting for this for days.

"Was that a yes?" he murmured against your lips and you both grinned, your foreheads pressed together, your hands tangled up in his hair.

"That was a yes," you replied, and before his confidence could grow any more, you pushed him back by the shoulder, pushing him onto his back and climbing on top of him.

Amazed, he watched you do it and put his hands on your hips as you looked at him from above. You felt even through his jeans how hard he was and just a small movement of your hips was enough to make him hiss.

"What do you think? You want me to return the favor?" you asked mockingly, pushing his shirt up agonizingly slowly.

He helped you take it off and dug his fingers into your hips so you would stop wriggling on his lap like that. Otherwise, he'd come right in his pants.

"That would only be fair," he replied, and you traced the contours of his rock-hard abs with your fingers. The bruises were just dark shadows by now, that you brushed one by one with your lips.

„God my head is about to explode“, he managed to say between needy sigh’s.

His cheeks were flushed and you could see how much he needed it. Now it was your turn. With a mischievous grin you climbed down his body until you were kneeling between his legs.

Only then did he begin to realize what you were up to.

With nimble fingers you opened his pants and he wiggled his hips to pull them down as fast as possible. When you pulled down his boxers as well, he gasped pathetically. His hard cock popped out and its tip was already purple. You had tortured him quite a bit.

You put a hand around his shaft and he watched you with widened eyes as you licked a little precum off his tip, keeping eye contact with him.

He had never seen anything hotter and a sweet sound rose in his throat as you began to slowly move your hand up and down his shaft.

"Holy shit... Fuck..." it tore out of him and he snapped his hips at you.

Teasingly you left your hand still and licked your lips.

"Take it in your mouth!" he commanded with a cute whine and you realized your chance to pay him back some of his bullshit. His eyes widened as he realized the position he had put himself in.

"Beg!" you said with a mean grin and he stubbornly pressed his lips together. Desperation made him gasp softly and you could see him struggling with himself. But he gave in faster as you moved your hand slowly along his length.

"Please, suck me off! Please I need to feel your mouth so bad!"

That was enough to convince you. Satisfied you palmed him faster again and finally you let your tongue circle around his tip until you took him all the way into your mouth.

His head fell into his neck and a loud moan escaped him as you bobbed your head along his dick. He buried his hand in your hair and soon he was guiding your head at a steady pace.

"Your mouth is so warm. So good. Ahh," he murmured to himself, watching his throbbing dick disappear between your full lips.

His grip on your hair grew increasingly tighter and as he pushed himself down your throat, tears welled up in your eyes. You gagged because of his enormous length, but that turned him on even more .

Gasping, he chased his own high and fucked your mouth restlessly. You couldn't breathe through your mouth anymore and his entire dick was full of your spit. Whimpering, you clawed at his thighs as he pressed your head so hard against his dick that tears ran down your cheeks.

It was intoxicating and despite the pain in your throat, arousal pulsed inside you.

"That's it, baby girl. Can't believe you let me fuck your mouth like the needy little slut you are," he growled and held you pressed onto his length for a few seconds until he continued thrusting into your throat.

"You're my little fuck toy! Mine alone!" he pressed out and his dick twitched inside your mouth.

The wet sounds, your dirty gagging and the sight of your glassy eyes made his motions become sloppy and with a few final deep thrusts, he pushed his dick all the way down your throat until your nose touched the skin of his belly and held you there.

You couldn't breathe and he came with an animalistic moan down your throat before releasing you and letting you breathe again.

By now tears, spit and cum were mixing in your mouth and on your lips. As his high ebbed he let go of you. You ran the back of your hand over your mouth and he had never seen anything more beautiful than your fucked out face. Suddenly he grabbed you and kissed you with his entire soul. You were confused by the intensity and blinked at him, when he let you go. It were so many emotions at once, that you couldn’t assign them to reasonable thoughts.

He pulled his shorts and jeans back up. Just in time as you heard the front door slam shut.

"Shit!" it escaped you in panic and with a glance at the clock you realized that you had already been messing around in your bed for two hours.

"Gunwoo and Mom are already back," you whispered, jumping off the bed to toss him his tank top, which he quickly pulled over his head.

As he stumbled out of bed, you pulled a pair of underpants out of the closet and slipped into panties and jeans.

As he stood at the door, he paused and turned to face you. Briefly, you nodded and he opened the door as quietly as possible. Your brother and Mom were carrying the groceries into the kitchen and gossiping loudly.

Just as he was about to slip out quietly, your Mom turned and spotted him.

"Ohh Woojin. You're here?" she exclaimed delightedly and Gunwoo now turned to you as well. She never looked so happy, when you came through the door…

You turned white as a sheet as your brother just stared at his best friend, while he was slipping out of his sister's room.

"Yes. I got my headphones," he said quickly, joining the others in the kitchen. Before Gunwoo could ask, you followed Woojin and said as normally as you could:

"I had them in my room. I wanted to try them out."

Woojin raised his eyebrows and looked at you obviously amazed by your excellent lying abilities.

"You mean you were going to steal them", he spat at you with the perfect amount of hatred to hide the truth.

"As if I needed to. You leave your stuff everywhere", you shot back venomously, and Gunwoo nodded sighing. It seemed all was the same as usual.

"Stop arguing and help me instead!", he demanded and threw a whole net of potatoes at Woojin.

Silently, you breathed a simultaneous sigh of relief when Gunwoo didn't ask further, and started to help him clean up the groceries.

That's how it went on for the next few weeks.

->[4]

—

Taglist (open):

@marked-unknown @littlebaby-bunbun @officialshania @choisoorin @fanaticnae @hoe4wonwoo @lola2004sworld @penny44224 @artisticbirb @amnmich @spaggedy @tasteskz-sworld

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endless-summer-soldier · 1 year

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dr. feelgood - chapter one

pairing: Surgeon!Bucky x SurgicalIntern!Reader

summary: Y/N has a one night stand with a handsome stranger the night before starting her new job as a surgical intern. Little does she know, the handsome stranger also happens to be her new boss

warnings: must be 18+, drinking, some surgery descriptions, smut, self-pleasure, praise kink, very minor character death

word count: 1.2k

series playlist: here (I'm still finalizing this so it might change)

taglist: @sebsgirl71479 @ozwriterchick @notmeddy (message me to be added!)

series masterlist

There was a stranger in my bed. A very handsome, naked stranger, but a stranger nonetheless. I rolled onto my back and tried to piece together the events from last night, but all I could remember was tequila. Too much tequila.

I crawled out of bed and headed for the shower, hoping the stranger would sneak out while I was in the bathroom. Today was a big day and being hungover was not part of my plan. I chugged some water and took a few Advil before I rinsed all of last night off my body.

When I walked back into my bedroom, Handsome Stranger was still in bed, but he was awake, which was progress.

“You forgot to invite me into the shower with you,” he said, sitting up in my bed. I gave him a small smile and said, “Let’s not do this. Last night was really fun, but I need you to leave.”

“Kicking me out already? No breakfast? No morning sex?”

“I’m starting a new job this morning and I really need to get ready,” I said. I grabbed the stranger’s clothes from the floor and tossed them at him.

“Wow, you really are kicking me out. This is going to impact your rating in my little black book.”

“Do you even remember my name?” I asked.

“Is it Lindsey? You look like a Lindsey.”

I chuckled, “It’s not Lindsey.”

“Okay, well I may not remember your name but I do remember the mind-blowing sex we had last night.”

“Can’t argue with you there.” I walked over towards him wrapped only in my towel and held my hand out, “Y/N”

“Bucky,” he took my hand and gave it a solid squeeze before letting go.

“Look Bucky, I’m sure you’re really great but I can’t do this right now. I have to focus on my career. Yes, I had a great time last night, but this can’t happen again. So I really do need you to go.”

He held both hands up in surrender, “Fair enough, I appreciate the honesty. I will get out of your hair.” He took his clothes from the heap on the bed and started putting them back on. I retreated back to the bathroom to dry my hair and brush my teeth. I let Bucky collect his things and leave without another word, avoiding any further awkward conversation.

I finished getting ready and could swear I smelled coffee, likely just my brain tricking me. When I departed down the stairs I heard the coffee maker brewing and froze, knowing I didn’t start the machine. There was a note scribbled on the white board attached to my fridge that read:

Good luck on your first day. Coffee’s on me :) - B

“Son of a bitch,” I muttered to myself. At least he didn’t leave his phone number because I might’ve been tempted to text him. A new guy was the last thing I needed right now. So I poured myself a travel mug full of coffee and departed for the hospital.

It was strange to be dressed in periwinkle scrubs and a lab coat. All through medical school, I dreamed of this moment, when I would finally be a surgeon. And yet, putting on the scrubs felt wildly underwhelming.

I stood in a group with my fellow interns as our resident, Dr. Palmer gave us a tour of the hospital and a run down of our basic expectations. I exchanged glances with a few of the interns in my group, but we didn’t have an opportunity to talk much.

The first day was fairly routine. We each had a chance to present on a patient and answer questions that Palmer asked us. The cases were all fairly routine which was a relief. Then we were sent off to the ER to complete basic examinations, take blood, and sew sutures. They were easing us in, which was a relief since I was still a little hungover, but I knew in the coming weeks we would be exposed to more and more.

Dr. Palmer introduced us to Dr. Stephen Strange, who was a world renowned neurosurgeon and apparently Palmer’s fiance. It wasn’t uncommon for doctors to be involved with fellow doctors because our work schedules were so demanding. Strange was curt and arrogant, but clearly highly intelligent and it would be a great experience to work underneath him. But I was most eager to meet the Head of Trauma, Dr. James Barnes. I’d read a lot of his articles and respected his resourcefulness as a former doctor for the Army. He had the kind of experience that couldn’t be taught in a hospital and I wanted to soak up as much of his knowledge as he was willing to give.

About halfway through the 12-hour shift, I found my way to the break room for a cup of coffee. The coffee pot was steaming which was fortunate because it meant a fresh pot had just been brewed. I poured myself a generous cup and added just a splash of cream.

As I took my first sip, a voice called from behind me, “Not as good as tequila, but it works wonders.”

I spun around and found handsome stranger smirking at me, clad in navy scrubs and a white lab coat.

I’m sure my jaw was on the floor, but I did my best to cover up my shock, “What are you doing here?”

He walked over toward me and poured himself a cup of coffee, “I could ask you the same thing. Was my coffee this morning so good that you had to come here for more?”

I was too stunned to respond to his sarcasm, “I’m sorry, do you work here?”

He looked at me patronizingly. “What does it look like?” He held his arms out, drawing my attention to his scrubs.

This couldn’t be real. I was about to pinch myself to test out my pain receptors when I caught a whiff of him. Ginger, bergamot, and citrus. The same heavenly scent that I had inhaled when I made my bed this morning.

“So this is the new job, huh?” he asked me. I couldn’t even formulate a response but he didn’t miss a beat, “Very impressive, truly. This is one of the best programs in the country.” I simply nodded, trying to calculate the quickest way out of this conversation.

Luckily I was saved by my resident. Dr. Palmer entered the break room and interrupted the conversation.

“Dr. Barnes, I see you’ve met one of my interns.”

My heart dropped into my stomach. Handsome stranger was Dr. Barnes. The Dr. James Barnes who I’ve admired for years and was incredibly excited to work with. And I drunkenly slept with him last night without even knowing who he was. I could feel my career slipping through my fingers.

“Yes, I was just about to introduce myself,” he stated. He extended a hand to me, “Dr. James Barnes, Head of Trauma.”

“Dr. Barnes, pleasure to meet you,” I faked enthusiasm. “I’m Dr. Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

“Dr. Y/L/N actually has a special interest in trauma, if I remember correctly,” Palmer added.

“Is that so?” Barnes said, looking at me with amusement. I merely nodded with a smile and he said, “Well, it sounds like we’ll be seeing a lot of each other. If you’ll excuse me, I have to scrub into the OR in about 30 minutes.”

He walked out of the break room but then popped his head back in, “Looking forward to working with you Dr. Y/L/N.” I could see Dr. Palmer trying to piece together the interaction so I scurried out of the room before she could question me.

next chapter

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes doctor au #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes

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teriri-sayes · 1 month

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Reactions to Chaos Creator's Chapter 267

TL;DR - Cale and Alberu tease each other. Cale meets Pope Kesilia. Raon is curious about DHB's name. Raon's friendliness warms Kesilia's heart.

The Teasing First half of the chapter was Cale and Alberu teasing each other.

Alberu: In that virtual world, levels have a huge impact. Even if Rank 1 Ahn Roh Man is on our side, it's only proper for me to become as strong as possible. That way, I can carry you, CH, and Raon. Raon: Human, what is carry? What are levels? Alberu: I'll tell you more when you return to Roan. But let me say this. This place, this place is really… It's a new and huge world. As if several worlds came together. Cale: You're having fun now, right? Alberu: … Cale: It's fun, right? Alberu: … Cale: You're having fun so you pull all-nighters, right? Alberu: … *smiles* Cale: You look awkward, so don't smile. Alberu: You truly are irreverent. Cale: For The Irreverent Emperor to say that, I truly appreciate it. Alberu: …

Cale calling out Alberu for saying he was irreverent/disrespectful when Alberu's in-game name was The Irreverent Emperor was so funny. 😂 The sarcasm in Cale's words as he says that line while using polite language was just 🤣🤣🤣

Cale: You tend to work hard at everything, don’t you? So, as you played, you probably learned about the fun of the game. Anyway, since you are the one handling it, take care of yourself. Alberu: Cale Henituse. Aren’t you speaking too casually? feels annoyed Cale: Not really. I say this out of utmost respect and consideration for the crown prince. Could it be that His Highness the Crown Prince also- Alberu: ??? frowns Cale: grins Would you like to faint and collapse like me? Oh, will you have a nosebleed? I don't know if this will make you healthier. Hahaha! Raon: Human, human! The crown prince's pride looks very hurt right now! Cale: Hahaha! gets more excited upon hearing Raon's words Alberu: … I've come to my senses. Pfft. Cale: (Hmm? Why is he suddenly smiling suspiciously? Why does it make me feel upset?) Alberu: Cale Henituse. Do you think that is possible? Cale: … Raon: I don’t think the crown prince will end up like my human! Hong: That’s right! That’s what our youngest said! On: The difference between exercising and not exercising is quite big. You can't compare to the crown prince. If His Highness needs to be compared to someone, a knight is the best. Cale: sees On pitying him … Alberu: Hahaha! On: patting Cale's leg to comfort him

Cale's attempt to tease Alberu's health completely backfired on him. 🤣🤣🤣

Raon and Kesilia Raon was so cute today. Pope Kesilia was depicted as a character obsessed with dragging down everyone with her, but now that she met Raon, it might be possible that she would have a change of heart.

Raon asked for her name, but Kesilia refused to say it, being fine with just being called the pope. Raon was being friendly with her, not minding that she was a mixed blood dragon, so she felt confused. He even offered to introduce Cale's DHB to Kesilia if she wanted friends.

There was also Raon noticing that she was in pain, and offering again to introduce her to his mom and Eruhaben who helped with treating DHB's pain. Kesilia felt strangely warm at Raon treating her nicely.

DHB's Name Oh my goodness, the author finally remembered this! We still did not get a name reveal, but Cale confirmed that he had already thought of one after putting much thought in it.

But our cutie Raon did not believe Cale, and was asking the pope for her name in hopes that Cale would get inspiration from hearing the name of another mixed blood dragon. And then, Raon made a cute assumption.

Raon was talking about DHB, and blurted that DHB was called someone Miru. Hmm... why is this hard to word? It's something like ____ Miru. Blank Miru? That doesn't sound right. Whatshisname Miru? Sounds better, but still strange.

Everyone was surprised to hear that, even Raon himself. From the fact that Raon assumed that Cale would give DHB the last name of Miru like him, to the fact that Raon knew that DHB once tried to kill him, yet he was fine in sharing the same last name with DHB.

I guess Raon was feeling conflicted like his mom regarding DHB. Meanwhile, Kesilia was puzzled about this young dragon willing to share the same last name to a mixed blood dragon who once tried to kill him. It must be unimaginable for her who was treated badly by the Aipotu dragons on the Dragon Lord's side. 😢

Crazy Clopeh Clopeh claimed that it was Rasheel who destroyed one of the temple's buildings, but Cale was having doubts about that, given the expression of the pope towards Clopeh. 😂

We never got to know what exactly the destructive trio did at the temple, but it was pretty much confirmed that Clopeh talked about Cale so much like a legendary hero. And Hannah said that Cale was a kind guy. So it was no wonder that 3rd Bishop Horns and the unnamed 1st Bishop treated Cale in awe. Or Pope Kesilia being friendly and cooperative with him.

Of course, Cale wondered how Clopeh introduced him to them because of their reactions. 😂 And also felt dizzy just thinking about it. 🤣🤣🤣

Ending Remarks Today's chapter was so good with its funny and heartwarming moments. 🥰 Next chapter would be Cale beginning his dragon lair looting plans, or probably more planning stuff. But the name tease of DHB has got me excited. I guess his last name will be Miru too because Cale did not object to Raon's words. So the only mystery now is his first name. Raon Miru. Dodam Miru. It seems like the Miru family is gaining a new member~!

#tcf spoilers #trash of the count's family

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lokidokieokie · 5 months

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Change is Never Easy

Summary: The two of you called it quits a month or so ago...and then Y/n faints during a shift. Change is never easy.

Pairing: Surgeon!Strange x Fem!Nurse!Reader

Warning(s): ex-lovers, exes to lovers(?), fainting, unexpected pregnancy

The atmosphere at General-Metro had quickly become thick with tensions ever since the breakup. Dr Stephen Strange and Nurse Y/n L/n had officially called it quits a few weeks ago, and the lingering awkwardness between them was impossible to ignore.

Navigating the hallways was like tiptoeing through an emotional minefield.

Y/n, nursing her wounded heart, did her best to keep up appearances during her shifts. She tried to focus on her tasks and avoid any unnecessary encounters with Stephen.

The air of the hospital was constantly charged with unspoken words and unresolved emotions; and the slightest interaction left both of the medical professionals on edge.

On one fateful day, while Y/n was basking in her lunch-break, the build up of the emotional strain proved too much. In the break-room, surrounded by the hum of vending machines and the distant chatter of her coworkers, Y/n collapsed.

Panicked voices echoed through the room as her coworkers rushed to her aid.

---

The current events of Stephen Strange's ex did not reach him until later on in the day, courtesy of one Christine Palmer, who had intercepted him in the bustling hallway.

"Stephen, have you gone to check on Ella? Something happened to her during her shift, and I haven't had to opportunity to see her yet," Christine whispered urgently, concern etched into her voice.

Stephen's brow furrowed in confusion. "What? No, I haven't. Is she alright?"

Christine briefly briefed him on the situation before she got paged to another emergency, prompting Stephen to abandon his current path and seek out Y/n.

When he found her, lying down in a quiet corner of the hospital, seemingly alright, the relief on his face was undeniable.

Slowly walking over to her, he brushed a stray hair out of her face. "What happened to you?" Concern prominent in his voice as he dragged a chair over.

With a flutter of her eyes and a shaky smile, Y/n greeted him. "Hey, Stephen. I don't really know what happened. I just felt incredibly dizzy, and then everything went black for a moment. I'm probably just dehydrated, I'm sure everything is fine."

Stephen raised his eyebrows, and his professional instincts kicked in. "People don't just faint for no reason, Y/n. I'm going to order a few tests to make sure."

Before calling in others, Stephen quickly did an examination, asking her about her symptoms and taking note of her vitals.

As Stephen focused on the exam, Y/n couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia. Their interactions were once filled with warmth and familiarity. Now, they were tainted by the awkwardness that hung in the air like a heavy cloud.

She was broken from her thoughts by Stephen's sigh of relief. "Physically, you seem find. I'm still getting other tests done to be thorough."

Y/n nodded, appreciating the concern emanating from her ex-lover. "Thanks, Stephen. I appreciate it."

---

It was probably about fourty-five minutes later when Stephen was given Y/n's test results. His eyes scanned the report, his expression changing from professional concern to surprise. Y/n, being curious and anxious about what he had seen, couldn't help up speak up.

"Stephen, what is it? What's on the report? Am I okay?" she pressed, her eyes searching his chiseled face for answers.

Taking a moment to compose himself, Stephen finally spoke, his voice a mix of disbelief and realisation. "Y/n, you're...pregnant."

Time seemed to still as the revelation hung in the air. Y/n's eyes widened, mirroring Stephen's astonishment. The awkwardness of their recent breakup was momentarily forgotten as they processed this unexpected twist of fate.

"Pregnant?" Y/n repeated, the word feeling foreign on her lips. "But we were careful?"

Stephen's mind raced, still processing the news. "Well, it seems we have to blame the twisted mind of the universe for this."

~~~

A/N So...I'm back from the dead 🙃 Sorry for another hiatus, Uni sucks, but I'm on break now :) Hopefully I can write more...but I'm me sooooo, please don't get your hopes up. BUT, there will be a part two of this that I have already pre-written so...

taglist (lemme know if you want to be added or removed) @thewaithfuckingannoyme @evelyn-kingsley @moonlight-ee @fall-myriad @ironstrange1991 @asgards-princess-of-mischief

sorry if you weren't added and had asked to be, I lost my taglists :(

#stephen strange #doctor strange #dr strange #stephen strange fanfic #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange imagine #stephen strange fanfiction #dr stephen strange #dr strange x you #dr strange fanfiction #dr strange x reader #doctor strange x fem!reader #doctor strange fanfiction #benedict cumberbatch x reader #benedict cumberbatch #exes to lovers #pregnancy #unexpected pregnancy trope

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super-paper · 8 months

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"Thank you for such wonderful comedy."

I've been wanting to talk about how MHA plays with the concepts of "fiction vs reality, the characters vs the actor, the world vs the stage" for awhile now, bc I believe understanding how MHA utilizes these concepts is pretty crucial to understanding our Big Bad (and Tomura!) (...and Izuku!) (.. etc!) (y-yeah...!!!) (wooo.....!!!!!)

If this post is more incoherent than usual, I apologize-- I'm just really enthusiastic about stories that play with the fact that they're stories and characters who throw themselves into a fictionalized role as a means of coping. I love the way MHA handles these concepts in particular, so I lost all sense of restraint as usual.

Hori: "I'm Like Dropping Hints That Hero/Villain Personas Are Actually Coping Mechanisms Lol"

"As Tomura Shigaraki and Tenko Shimura, I've got just one wish: the total destruction of everything that created that house." "If my origin as Touya and Dabi was such a simple thing, then... No, there are still things I want to say. Arguments I want to have."

I've seen a few ppl saying that it sounds awkward/strange to have the characters repeatedly asserting themselves in the third person, but imo, the emphasis on real names versus hero/villain names during these particular scenes plays into the idea of the villain/hero identities being "alter egos" that might not actually have the same core desires as the """"actors"""" that are behind these personas.

Tomura and Touya invoke both their real and villain names while asserting their respective wishes. Himiko also invokes her villain name, though it's less obvious to english speakers because she uses her real name as her villain name (in the raws, "HIMIKO TOGA" as a villain name is written using katakana-- and this is what she uses when asserting her wish). MHA plays with the idea of "fiction"/"Alter Egos" as a form of escapism and as a coping method, and at this point in time, the Dabi/Tomura/"Himiko" identities are still being utilized as a crutch/mask by these three very hurt individuals.

*loud, terrifying chanting* PEAK FICTION PEAK FICTION PE--

Ochako's fight being like the second most thematically important fight in the whole series still makes me unreasonably giddy btw.

To contrast, Ochako uses her civilian name alone when asserting her wish-- and imo we're meant to read this as Ochako wanting to save Himiko as herself, not as Uravity. Saving Himiko is not something she can accomplish as her alter-ego-- Ochako is able to save Himiko by stepping off the stage and becoming a "real" person, while also acknowledging the person behind "Toga Himiko (villain name)".

Izuku hasn't had his "I'm Izuku Midoriya"/"I'm-saving-you-as-Izuku-not-as-Deku" moment yet-- instead, we see Tomura intentionally making that distinction between the-hero-and-the-true-self by constantly referring to Izuku by his real, full name. And I'm pr sure Izuku is also the only one he does this to-- we see him referring to all the other heroes he encounters by their hero names alone, or by insulting nicknames (l-lol). Correct me if I'm wrong, tho!

(side note: Tomura switching to calling Izuku just "Hero" in the aftermath of Bakugate is actually a big step backwards imo-- it reads as Tomura trying to push Izuku away by shoving them both back in the hero/villain box and doubling down on enforcing their respective "roles." Not that I ever expected mister doomdere to make things easy, but, woof. Good Fuckin' Luck, Izuku ( ´･ω･) )

TL;DR The final arc has mostly been about tearing off the hero/villain masks to reveal who is hiding underneath— MHA's careful use of names and monikers plays heavily into that and its distinction between "alter-ego"/"true self" a lot. Which is... probably one of the many reasons why All For One still doesn't have a given name, as someone who has all but completely lost himself in his character.

Anyway! That brings us to the meat of this post: how does MHA take the concepts of "reality vs fiction" and "the character vs. the actor" and apply it to All For One (...and Tomura) (and Izuku--)?

"Pay No Attention to That Man Behind the Curtain!"

"If you refuse to submit, then I'll just rewrite the story." - it's amazing how all of this coulda been avoided if someone had just introduced AFO to Demon Lord x Reader fanfiction. (/j)

AFO fancies himself as the author of MHA's greatest tragedy (the desecration of Shimura Nana's legacy via the sacrifice of Shimura Tenko), while simultaneously inserting himself into its overarching narrative and treating himself as the leading villain of the story-- it's self-indulgent and intentionally invasive in the way that most self-insert fanfiction tends to be invasive, with him going to extremes to make it seem as though the whole story revolves around him. AFO wants to be both the author and the leading character and the leading antagonist. This greed is typical of him, but it also establishes him as a character who's more caught up in (read: trapped by) his relationship to "fiction" than anyone else. Again, MHA explores the use of fiction and alter-egos as an escape from a painful reality-- so, it's entirely reasonable to assume that this applies to AFO as well.

To me, so much about AFO reads as an escapist fantasy of someone who is utterly terrified of being put in a position where he is truly seen. The idea of being vulnerable, of being naked, of being "human," is intolerable to him. But by not allowing himself to feel and "be a human," he has effectively cut himself off from what he wants most. The character of “Shigaraki Tomura” is as much an escapist fantasy for AFO as it is Tenko-- It's just another (younger, prettier) layer of skin he can hide his true self in.

"so basically you're saying that AFO is a never nude" yes, actually :)

AFO dehumanizes Tomura through his attempts to turn the boy into his personal comic book character, but he also dehumanizes himself by desperately trying to insert himself into that “character." It's only fitting that Tomura’s innate humanity and capacity for feeling ends up rendering AFO himself painfully, painfully human-- and ultimately causes AFO's carefully constructed character to start crumbling.

If All the World’s a Stage, Then Let’s Destroy the Stage

"That stage is gone now. The theater's knocked down. How much longer can we afford to be spectators on the sideline?" "Once upon a time, a man named All Might showed all of us how to be a hero. But somewhere along the way, people forgot about the heart and soul that made the man." -MHA, Chapter 325

Tomura is attempting to destroy the stage, because without the stage there can be no "Shigaraki Tomura" (Or "All Might," or "All For One," or "Endeavor," etc etc etc). Without the stage, there are no more "characters" and no more tragedies. But-- without the stage, there are no more stories period. There are no more tragedies, but there are no more happy endings either. The world never recognizes the actor behind "Shigaraki Tomura" without the stage. The stage is not inherently a bad thing, so long as people can remember that the actors on the stage still exist outside of it.

But Tomura himself cannot imagine what happens after the curtains fall, and all that's left is Shimura Tenko. He is stuck in a role that was written entirely for someone else, but remains convinced that the role was always his and that the role defines him.

Tomura rebels against the story the only way he knows how--against an "author" who *LITERALLY* views him as a spicier self insert, and against a "setting" that treats his death as a happy ending-- but even so, Tomura still can't picture an ending that doesn't end in tragedy. His rebellion is not about him trying to wring a happy ending out of a miserable, mean-spirited book-- it's about burning the whole damn library down so he never feels let down or hurt by a story again.

Basically: Tomura cannot act outside the confines of his "character" in a way that will truly save him. Even as he rebels, he's rebelling in a way that is painfully consistent with the way his "character" is written-- and that's why AFO (the author) still poses such an enormous threat to him. Destruction cannot save him from this story when he was explicitly penned to destroy.

The only way to break this narrative is to act in a way "the author" doesn't expect, and to tap into all the traits that AFO desperately attempted to "write out" of him-- Shimura Tenko is someone who has always rebelled against his writing, his author, and the unfairness of this story with his kindness and his willingness to accept those that no one else will.

AFO cuts off Tenko's own power at the root by reinforcing Tomura's belief that the world will always inherently reject him, without fail, always and forever-- so he should just reject the world, too (and I've talked at length about this before, but this is why a story that ends with Tomura dying or locked away from society is an ending that fails in its goal to save Tomura). The more Shigaraki Tomura rejects everything and the more Shigaraki Tomura is rejected by everything, the more he distances himself from his root and the source of his power-- and the more Shimura Tenko gets lost in this character.

While AFO is terrified of someone seeing behind his mask, Tomura longs for it. Tenko has been there since the beginning and has been begging for someone to finally see and acknowledge him (both in-universe and out of universe).

"I’ll Be There, Changing Fate by Your Side."

AFO: "Blah Blah Blah Do you still believe myths can save you? Foolish creature. Let me be clear: every version of the story ends with you being slaughtered yadda yadda yadda :) :) :)" ENTER, MIDORIYA IZUKU WITH A STEEL CHAIR.

Izuku's role is that of a completely average boy who gets pulled into a narrative ''that wasn't for him"-- he has no heroic lineage, no hidden powers, and no connection to the centuries old conflict that drives the plot. He's just a boy who did the right thing at the right time and was rewarded for it. Izuku is someone who was "never supposed to be a hero" the same way Tenko was "never supposed to be a villain" per the "rules" of their world-- and Izuku, like Tomura, is someone who exists to destroy those rules and the expectations of their narrative, completely changing the ending.

But rather than burning the book and ending the story forever (like Tomura wants to do), Izuku believes that the story and characters can still be salvaged. There's always something worth saving. It doesn't have to be a tragedy, they can still change the ending. They can talk specifics after Tomura's crazy ass puts the lighter down.

Izuku, like Tomura and so many other characters, throws himself into an alter-ego in an attempt to redefine himself and escape from pain ("Nobody's been saved yet. Don't be the worthless old Deku who can't save anyone" 😬). He almost loses himself in the role of "OFA's torch bearer" the way All Might did-- but just as Izuku managed to find Toshinori Yagi and helped in convincing him that his life as Toshinori has meaning, Izuku ends up getting saved by his friends who couldn't care less about OFA's ~protagonist power~ and know that Izuku is just a goofy, awkward, human boy who needs help.

Like.... If we explore quirklessness as like... a narrative stand-in for characters that the story typically views or dismisses as irrelevant extras/npcs, then AFO's barely restrained anger at Izuku and Toshi (and possibly Yoichi if we're being honest) for daring to ''act beyond their roles'' becomes even funnier. AFO can't stand the idea of his power/the protagonist role being passed on to someone who seems so utterly unworthy, unremarkable, and plain. He can't stand the idea of someone without a quirk/"role" standing up to him, the leading character. Dude really is a toxic comic book fan to the core.

afo really said "I didn't like how things were going so I stopped reading and just wrote a better ending to the story :^)" like...... @mhareddit that's u buddy...........................;

Anyway...........!!!!! AFO is someone who cherry picks what he likes about a story while ignoring the actual intent/message of the work (#theabsolutestateofthemhafandom), but he has no intention of breaking down the dichotomy between heroes/villains and instead actively enforces it (.............#theabsolutestateofthemhafan--). He just wants to flip what side wins in the end.

Tomura wants to break the narrative because he sees that as the only way to escape from his pain (but in doing so, he permanently cuts himself off from being a part of a story with a happy ending). He wants to destroy the dichotomy between heroes and villains because heroes and villains "will never understand each other and never stop creating each other" (lol. lmao, even).

Izuku wants to break the narrative because he's realized that there's something more to this story than your standard "Hero versus Villain," "good vs evil" affair and that he cannot explore what lies behind those masks and labels without tearing them down, first.

These three work together well as a narrative set of Fucking Nerds, and AFO works well as both Tomura and Izuku's villain for all of the above reasons (& also bc he's the only one who is actually benefitting from their current society) ((which basically offers him an endless buffet of hurt and angry children he can exploit on a silver platter)).

Anyway! Kick his ass, Izuku.

#shigaraki tomura #shimura tenko #all for one #sophie.txt #midoriya izuku #mha spoilers #mha.txt

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crushedbyhyperbole · 1 month

Text

Before I Met Angels - Pt 1 - Then...

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus!Fem!Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester arrived on your doorstep with his cheap suit and the promise of a ghost-free future. Playing pretend love interest left you both with something a little more lingering than the ghost.

Words: 2.5k

A/N: This was born of a Nonny request for some oral smut and some insecurity/comfort (which is Part 2) but I couldn't not write the back story so here it is. I hope you enjoy.

Warnings: Canon-typical action/adventure, talk of ghosts and dead people, canon typical violence, profanity, some sexual tension, kissing, and a bit of softness.

***MINORS DO NOT ENTER OR INTERACT***

Dean Winchester had been in your house for over two weeks now, having arrived on your doorstep with his brother Sam after a handful of men in your town had mysteriously died. It had started a little over two years ago with your boyfriend, Danny, who had died of a heart attack moments before you were going to sleep together for the first time. Six months ago, other men who you had started dating or who had asked you out started dying as well, their hearts exploded in their chests.

When Dean showed up, it was in a cheap suit and an FBI badge, and the promise of a future without whatever was plaguing you. It quickly became apparent that he and Sam weren’t really FBI when they started laying lines of salt around your house and carrying your old fire poker or your cast iron skillet around with them. With talk of ghosts and other supernatural things, you learned that the Winchester brothers were hunters of those things that went bump in the night, guardian angels, if you will, for all who were afflicted by such things.

“I’m no guardian angel, sweetheart. I’ve met some of ‘em though.” He replied when you said this to him. “They’re assholes, lemme tell ya.”

You had laughed but the concept of angels existing wasn’t something you had been prepared for. But really, how could you be prepared for any of this?

Over the course of the first few days, Dean and Sam staked out your house, taking readings with a strange whining piece of equipment that Sam explained read ghost energy. The prognosis: your house was haunted, but the ghost remained elusive.

“Maybe it only goes after people I want to be romantic with?” You fielded, after a discussion about the house’s history. “You said yourselves that all of the people who died of that exploding heart thing had been people I’d been dating or about to date.”

“You could have a point,” Sam said thoughtfully. “So we just need to replicate that scenario.”

“You saying I got to get frisky up in here?” Dean quizzed and you blushed, feeling awkward about suggesting he do something he clearly wouldn’t enjoy.

“I mean, I could…” Sam began to offer but Dean carried on talking.

“Alright, I got this.” He nodded at you with a smirk that you couldn’t read at all. “Let’s get this done.”

He decided that snuggling on the couch would be a good start and see if that prompted the ghost to appear. The first day, nothing happened, but Dean came back every evening and tried again. Each night he and Sam came back around sunset and you made them dinner. Each night Dean would sit back on the sofa with his arm around you and you would snuggle into him as you watched TV; Dr Sexy was his favourite show. Sam waited either in the car or in a room upstairs as if he was a guest.

Gradually you two settled into a routine where small gestures of affection began to creep into your behaviours: Dean would stroke his hand down your back to settle on your hip as he passed you in the kitchen, and you would absently touch his forearm when you spoke to him. It only took a couple of days, but you completely fell under his spell – fake though your interactions were supposed to be.

You couldn’t deny the attraction you felt for him, he was way beyond anything in your league but every time he touched you he lit a fire in you. Every soft smile, every glance, every time he held you against him on the couch at night was fuel for that fire. He seemed to enjoy your company but he was just doing his job, simply acting out a role to bring an end to the whole haunting thing. The haunting thing that didn’t seem to be happening, or so you thought until last night.

Curled up on the couch with Dean for what was the twelfth night in a row, you had started to fall asleep with his arm draped around you, his fingers drawing abstract patterns on the skin of your arm.

“This doesn’t seem to be working,” he said after the re-run of Dr Sexy had finished. “I think maybe we need to kick things up a gear. Whadd’ya say?”

You didn’t know what he had in mind but you were a little drowsy and so far in over your head that you simply nodded, receiving a bright grin as a reply.

“You tell me to stop and I’ll stop, okay?” He whispered into your ear, his lips brushing against you as he nuzzled your neck, inhaling your scent just below your ear. “Mmmm, you smell fantastic.” He spoke at normal volume, clearly this was a show to get the ghost to present itself.

You sighed as he kissed your neck, and when his hand snuck under the hem of your top you stiffened, pushing a hand against his chest as if to stop him.

“Relax, sweetheart. I’ll be good to you, I promise.”

You stroked his chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath and wondered how his skin felt. When your fingers slipped under his shirt and danced across his bare abs he inhaled sharply, pulling back from his attention on your neck to look at you.

There was a hunger there in his eyes, and he leaned forward to kiss you. You sighed as his lips met yours, so deeply absorbed in how he made you feel that you didn’t realise the temperature in the room was falling. His tongue slipped into your mouth and he cupped your face to kiss you properly. You moaned deeply, succumbing to the heat pooling down in your core. It was so easy to believe this was real.

“Atta girl,” he whispered when he pulled back. “You’re doing so well.”

“I’ve never been kissed like that before.” You practically mewled.

“Well I’m going to do it one more time and then I’m going to ask you to follow me, okay?”

Anywhere. You nodded as he pulled you to your feet and cradled your face in his hands. His second kiss was consuming but still slow and measured. He stroked his hands down your sides and up under your shirt, stroking the skin of your waist and back, and pulling you tight against him.

“I wanna have you so bad,” he said, breathless, resting his forehead on yours but very aware of the changes in the room. “To be continued….” He whispered, leading you up the stairs to the guest room where Sam was hiding.

“Dean!” Sam yelled. “Hurry it up.”

“I know, Sammy!” He yelled back. “We’re on our way.”

The air was charged with static. You could feel it bristling the hairs on your skin like a bad thunder storm about to happen. Ahead of you on the stairs, you saw Dean’s rear as he led you quickly by the hand. Glancing behind, you saw a glitchy shape of a man which bore the face of your dead boyfriend, Danny.

“Danny?” You couldn’t believe what you were seeing.

“It’s the dead boyfriend!” Dean said to Sam as you both crossed the salted threshold of the guest bedroom.

“I thought he was killed by the ghost first.”

“So did we.” Sam said with a frown, looking at Dean in confusion. “And he was cremated already so what the hell are we gonna do now?”

Dean turned you to face him, tearing your eyes away from the ghost that waited on the far side of the salt boundary.

“Do you have anything of his that could be tying him to this plane? Lock of hair? Blood stain somewhere maybe?”

“I don’t know, Maybe.” You wracked your brain for anything you had kept of his. “He gave me a locket early on in our relationship that I never really wore, but after he died I couldn’t just throw it away. He said it was a keepsake but it’s just got a photo of us in it.”

“That’s got to be it.” Sam said. “Where is it?”

“In my bedroom. Jewellery box.”

“I’ll get it,” Sam rushed to the door, “he’s after Dean, not me.”

Once Sam crossed the salt with his iron fire poker, Danny’s ghost attacked. It knocked Sam against the wall, hard, and sent him skidding back into the room. The line of salt was broken and Danny’s ghost came for Dean.

“Goddamnit! You need to get outa here” Dean said, brows raised, almost begging.

“But he’s going to kill you.”

Maybe if you could reason with Danny, he would just leave. Maybe if you asked him to move on to wherever ghosts went, that he would see you were ok without him.

“He’s gonna try.” Dean scooped up his shotgun, pumped it and stepped up beside you.

“Danny, please listen to me.” You tried to reason with the spirit of your dead boyfriend. “You don’t need to do this. Please don’t do this.”

The ghost advanced, paying little heed to anyone except Dean. His eyes, so filled with malice and hatred, never left the hunter. For a second, you thought maybe you could stand between them and be safe but the closer the spectre got, the more you realised that he was too far gone. Unreachable.

“Run!” Dean pushed you aside and lifted the shotgun, aiming it right at Danny’s chest.

You backed up against the wall and skirted along it as Danny advanced on Dean. You had to find the locket, but what were you supposed to do with it when you had it?

In your room, you fumbled with the clasp on your jewellry box, dropping the box on the floor. Chains and earrings spilled out, jumbling up together, snagging into a knot as you tried to pull Danny’s locket free.

The booming sound of the shotgun was deafening. It was so loud you felt it in your chest cavity and the shock of it made you feel dizzy. Dean could be heard goading the ghost, taunting it to come and get him before the gun went off again.

In the doorway, Sam appeared looking a little worse for wear. You held the jumble of gold and silver up to him, panicked that you couldn’t separate them.

“What do I do?”

“We have to burn it.”

“I can’t separate them.”

“Then we burn it all.”

Sam snatched up the metal trashcan and you dumped the twisted clump on top of the paper. A generous squirt of fuel and a book of matches later and the whole can was ablaze.

Danny’s ghost appeared, in flame, moving towards you as if to claim you but Sam pulled you out of the way as the last of the flames consumed the spirit, leaving behind whisps of smoke.

Dean was sat on the floor of the guest room, bruised and bashed but very much alive. He gave you a grateful smile and a nod as he got his breath back. When he stood he hugged you, rubbing both of your arms to soothe you, and kissed the top of your head.

“I think we got him,” Dean said as he stood on your porch ready to head back to the motel for the night. “But if it’s alright with you, I wanna do one more night to make sure we haven’t missed anything. Tomorrow?”

You had thought you would never see him again once your haunting was taken care of, but when presented with an opportunity to spend one more evening cuddling Dean Winchester, how could you refuse. The thought of being alone that night was overwhelming but you felt pathetic asking him and Sam to stay with you.

“I think that’s a good idea,” you smiled weakly, hoping you didn’t seem too needy or too eager to have his hands on you again. When he had kissed you, it had made you burn with desire for him, and now you couldn’t let go of that heat. The memory of ‘to be continued’ played whirligig in your stomach.

“Alright, sweetheart. We’ll see you again tomorrow.”

Dean stepped off the porch and down into your yard before you crumbled under the weight of your emotions.

“Wait!”

He and Sam stopped and turned, Dean looking at you with worry, Sam with sympathy.

“Would you stay with me tonight?” You felt embarrassed to ask, but the words were out now. “I don’t want to be alone.”

Dean shuffled his feet, looking at Sam somewhat awkwardly before returning his gaze to you. His smile was strained, as if he didn’t know how to let you down gently.

“Tell you what,” Sam cut the silence, “I’ve got some research to do anyway, and we missed a call from Jodie, so I’ll head back to the motel and I’ll swing back around tomorrow and pick you up.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Dean patted Sam’s shoulder and followed you back into the house where you both settled on the couch as was your routine.

The sound of the TV blended into the background, secondary to the steady but quick thu-thump of your own heartbeat and the whoosh of your pulse in your ears. The couch was soft beneath you, perfectly contrasting the firmness of the man you were partially wrapped around.

Dean looked down at you, catching you looking up at him from under your eyelashes.

“If you keep lookin’ at me that way, that ‘to be continued’ is gonna happen a lot sooner that you think.” He said with a cocksure smirk.

You grinned, reaching up to slide your fingers over the stubble of his cheek, guiding him so you could lay your lips on his.

Dean sighed through his nose as he delved into your kiss, his arms slipping around you to hold you tight against him.

Whatever chemistry you two had generated over the past couple of weeks was sure to fizzle out once you’d both gotten it out of your systems. Him acting like he was interested in you, all the affectionate touches he had coached himself to give during that time, the closeness you both had engineered over that time. It was all bound to drain away, but in the meantime you closed your eyes and succumbed to the desire burning in your chest that told you to have him while you could.

And as Dean sunk himself into you on the soft couch with the TV playing Dr Sexy in the background, you didn’t care if it was just one time, you didn’t care if he would be gone tomorrow, or the next day. As he sighed your name and made you feel amazing, you knew you would keep this memory forever. The night you loved your guardian angel.

Read Part Two...?

#dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x plus!reader #dean winchester x plus reader #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x you #spn #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester on the hunt #cloudy's writing #dean x reader

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defectivevillain · 10 months

Text

this broken design, ch8

pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Reader

summary: “Dr. Lecter?” You blink a few times, convinced that you’re dreaming. The man’s gleaming eyes and concerned expression seem a bit too realistic to be conjured by your sleeping mind, though. You’re not sure if you’ve ever seen him look worried. You quickly decide that you don’t like it.

“Hannibal, please,” the doctor responds nonchalantly. You stare at him in utter confusion. Just what is happening right now? You thought you were dreaming, but this feels a bit too vivid. “What are you doing out here?”

read the story from the beginning here. [this won’t make sense otherwise.]

[ao3 version]

apologies, the ao3 folks saw this first and i forgot to post it here 😔

Franklyn’s death is really weighing on you, even as the days continue to pass. Jack all but forces you out of the building, demanding that you take a few days off before returning. Normally, you’d jump at the chance for some free time. However, the last thing you need right now is more time to think. After an unnecessarily heated argument with Jack, he agrees to let you hold guest lectures. Unfortunately, that’s the extent of your current responsibilities. Instead of studying up on murder cases and investigating in the field, you’re confined to the classroom. It’s hard to hide your frustration and you find yourself struggling not to snap at inquiring students.

The newest class of FBI recruits is talented—that’s a given. However, they’re also far too confident in their abilities, which ends up being a hindrance. Confidence and self-assuredness can only take a person so far. When you go over the Garret Jacob Hobbs case with your class, you’re unsurprised to find that no one can produce an answer for how you narrowed in on him as a suspect. You end up having to dismiss the class early—both because of your increasing irritation and the pounding headache you’re beginning to develop. Unfortunately, your annoyed mood doesn’t deter everyone. Somehow, even after you’ve dismissed class and returned to your desk, a few students remain behind and ask you questions. You manage to get through those painfully awkward conversations and, after several minutes, you’re finally alone.

You put a hand on your temple and take a deep breath. The fluorescent lighting in the classroom is always bright, but now, it feels as if it’s burning into your eyes. You close your eyes for a blissful moment, allowing yourself to be submerged in the peaceful darkness. The clock in the far corner of the room is ticking rhythmically, the only sound to accompany the comfortable silence.

There’s a hand on your shoulder. You flinch awake and squint up at your newfound company, only to see Hannibal staring down at you with an indiscernible expression. Pain shoots through your ribs and you realize that the desk is jabbing into your skin. You slowly separate yourself from the desk, despite the compelling urge to close your eyes again.

“Good morning,” Hannibal remarks. You’ve grown to recognize that slight quirk of his lips as his attempt at concealing amusement. “It appears you didn’t get enough sleep last night.”

“What gave it away?” You answer wryly, your voice a bit raspy from your brief, unplanned nap. The lights above are burning into your vision again and it takes several moments for your eyes to adjust to the atmosphere. You take a deep breath and push your slightly-crumpled papers to the side. You can feel Hannibal scrutinizing the materials on your desk. It takes you a few moments to look up at him and realize that he isn’t paying any attention to the rather cluttered nature of your desk—it seems you were just imagining his judgment. You’re still grappling with the strange juxtaposition of growing closer to Hannibal, yet feeling as if you don’t understand him any better than before.

“Nightmares?” He asks.

You nod. “Only the usual blood and gore… murder and mayhem.” You don’t have the courage to expand on your nightmares or admit that you wake up every hour drenched in sweat and gasping for breath. You don’t mention how you have to mechanically walk to the sink and wash your hands, convinced that there’s blood spattered across your skin and staining your hands. You wipe a hand over your face and try to regain some semblance of composure. “Anyways, what are you doing here?” Hannibal rarely visits you at work—and right in your classroom, no less.

“Jack wants to speak with you,” Hannibal answers. “I was told to accompany you.” You idly wonder how well Hannibal took to being told what to do. Pushing the thought aside, you get to your feet and fall in step next to Hannibal as the two of you walk out of the classroom and towards Jack’s office.

“I spotted your name in a TattleCrime article.” Out of all the statements he could’ve used to break the silence between you, that one was an… interesting choice. You turn your head to the side and blink at him. Unsurprisingly, you can’t quite picture Hannibal Lecter sitting down and fervently reading an amateurish gossip tabloid. Perhaps you misjudged him.

“You read TattleCrime?” You ask, trying your best to keep the surprise from your voice. You shove your hands in your pockets and stare straight ahead, knowing you don’t have the energy to perform the socially-mandated eye contact. “You don’t seem the type.”

“It was an… intriguing read,” Hannibal admits. His shoes make slight pattering sounds as they click against the grey resin flooring. A few of your colleagues and coworkers stare as the two of you walk by. It seems that Hannibal is bound to draw attention wherever he goes. You almost feel like a shadow at his side, perpetually cursed to slip under the radar. Well, to others, that would be a curse; to you, it feels like a strange sort of blessing. No one pays you any attention as you walk down the halls of the bureau.

“The piece was rather timid for Freddie Lounds,” you acquiesce casually. The man at your side seems mystified by your comment and, for a few moments, the air falls to silence. You suppose the differences between Hannibal and you are rather pronounced in that regard. You can’t imagine Hannibal standing idly by amidst defamation.

“She’s written about you before?” Hannibal eventually inquires.

“Many times,” you say with a grin. Hannibal doesn’t smile back. You suddenly feel the need to elaborate. “I don’t care. It’s not like I have the best reputation to begin with.” The rest of your walk to Jack’s office is filled with a tense silence. You’re not quite sure why Hannibal is taking issue with what you said, so you instead give in and let your thoughts wander to other matters.

A minute later, the two of you are standing across from Jack in his office. Jack starts going on a tangent about the Chesapeake Ripper—which you only partially listen to—before turning to ask Hannibal a few questions. You’re a bit embarrassed to admit that you zone out through the majority of their conversation, and it isn’t until the two of them are staring at you that you realize your misstep.

“Yes?” You ask, turning to look at Jack expectantly. The man’s eyebrows are furrowed and he looks mildly irritated at the thought of your distraction. He must realize that you had no intention of genuinely zoning out, because the exasperation quickly fades from his expression.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes.” You frown at him with furrowed brows. That is a rather unusual question for Jack to ask. In your working history with the man, you’ve never once heard him inquire about someone else’s well being in such a straightforward and brusque manner.

“You’ve been quiet,” Jack frowns, looking at you expectantly. “Any thoughts on the investigation? I’d like to hear what you have to say before sending you to Baltimore.” Jack and Hannibal are both looking at you now. You pinch the bridge of your nose and stare down at the floor. Your conflicting feelings must show in your expression, because Jack continues. “Your honest thoughts.” There is significant emphasis placed on the modifier in that sentence. The clock on the wall behind Jack ticks mockingly. Time seems to drag on in this frozen moment. You take a minute to review what you’ve heard so far.

“I don’t think Abel Gideon is the Ripper,” You finally answer, knowing damn well that the Chesapeake Ripper you’re looking for is standing right across from you. “But it certainly doesn’t hurt to investigate all potential options.”

“Agreed,” Hannibal voices. You’re briefly struck with an intense, inexplicable irritation. Jack glances between the two of you and somehow seems to notice your growing anger. He raises his eyebrows at you. You take a deep breath and try to remain calm. When you’re overstimulated, it’s easy to get angry at other people for simply, well, existing. It’s hard not to get frustrated when you don't have as much control over the situation as you’d like. The reminder of another person’s mere presence—in this case, Hannibal’s—is enough to send you over the edge.

“I’d like to go alone,” you blurt out, quickly glancing at Hannibal before looking at Jack once more. Your boss seems to understand what you’re trying to say and he takes a deep breath.

“Hannibal,” Jack says diplomatically. “Do you mind if we have a private conversation?” Jack asks, his gaze still locked on you even as he speaks to Hannibal. The psychiatrist nods politely and leaves the room. The moment he leaves, you feel all the tension slowly seep from your shoulders. The occurrence doesn’t go unnoticed by Jack, whose brows furrow for a second.

“Are you sure you’re up for this, Agent?” Jack then asks scrupulously. You appreciate that he’s asking, but the hesitant manner in which he does so makes you feel as if you’re a fragile tea cup. Contrary to other people’s beliefs, you’re more than capable of handling yourself. You had done so for years without Hannibal’s assistance and you can continue to do so in his absence.

“I’ll be fine,” you answer quickly and determinedly. You clench your fists at your sides.

“Is there any reason why you requested to go alone?”

“I’m just burned out,” you respond honestly. As much as you enjoy Hannibal’s presence, you feel that you need time alone. You constantly have to monitor everything you do or say in front of the psychiatrist. That necessitated self-awareness, coupled with any preexisting environmental stimuli, can make you feel overwhelmed rather quickly. You don’t utter any of these thoughts aloud, but Jack seems to comprehend the underlying sentiment.

“Ah,” your boss says with an understanding nod. He folds his hands on his desk and levels you with an inquisitive gaze. Admittedly, it took you years to get used to Jack’s demanding stares. The power dynamics in your professional relationship made you feel as if you had to make eye contact with him in order to show proper respect. Thankfully, you eventually learned that the very notion was false. “Very well. You can go on the mission alone.”

“Thanks, Jack,” you smile slightly, feeling appreciative of your boss and his understanding. Jack Crawford can be rather stringent and assertive at times, but it’s during moments like these when you remember that he cares about your comfort in the workplace.

“And, Agent?” Jack asks. You raise a brow. “Be careful out there.” He continues. You appreciate the warning, but it sounds a bit ominous. Does Jack expect something to happen? You shake off the thought.

“Yes, sir,” You say before turning around, hitherto missing the way Jack’s eyebrows furrow at the honorific. You settle for leaving his office. Hannibal is waiting outside, but you walk past him and make your way back to your office alone.

In the blink of an eye, you find yourself standing before the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. As you look up at the building, the only thing you can feel is a profound sensation of dread. The hospital looms over you ominously, its dreary beige exterior making you feel rather uncomfortable. With each step you take, your resolve weakens. Maybe you should’ve had someone accompany you after all. You shake your head and grip the unnecessarily tall door, before stepping inside. The entrance hall is rather luxurious, despite your knowledge that the building is a government-funded prison. It takes you a moment to locate a sign and find Frederick Chilton’s office. Minutes later, you’re standing in front of an ornate wooden door that rests ajar, allowing you to see into the office. The man sitting at the desk looks up and gestures for you to come in.

“Hello, Dr. Chilton,” You decide to say, before moving to take a seat at the armchair across from his desk. The man’s attention is evidently pulled away from his papers, as he levels you with a scrutinizing gaze. You’re about to introduce yourself before understanding passes over his face and he seems to recognize you.

“The killer in the flesh,” Chilton remarks in amusement, leaning back in his chair and crossing his leg over his knee. You’re briefly struck with a resemblance to Hannibal, before you quickly do away with the thought. Chilton possesses none of the effortless grace that Hannibal does. In fact, Frederick Chilton’s movements and posture just make him seem like he’s peacocking.

“You’ve been reading too much TattleCrime, Dr. Chilton,” you remember to say, making sure to plaster a smile on your face to lighten the blow. Thankfully, the doctor doesn’t immediately recoil or usher you out of the office.

Instead, Chilton laughs. You curse internally. It seems that your prickly responses have only increased his interest. “Maybe so,” he acquiesces, leveling you with a hungry gaze. You instinctively lean back in your chair. “Care for an hour-long consultation? Entirely free of charge, of course.”

“No thanks.” You respond quickly.

“Most people would jump at the chance to speak with me for an hour,” Chilton remarks casually. At least, you suspect that he wants to sound casual. Instead, you fear he just sounds pompous and arrogant. You have to grip at the fabric of your jacket to keep yourself from saying something you may regret.

“I’m not most people, as I’m sure you’ve realized,” you snap with a little too much venom, before taking a deep breath. Lashing out at him won’t get you any closer to a conversation with Gideon. “Anyway. I’m here to speak to Abel Gideon.” You look at Chilton expectantly. There’s an awkward silence that descends across the space, before the man sighs. He looks you up and down—in a manner that makes you profoundly uncomfortable—before shaking his head.

“Unfortunately, you lack the proper paperwork,” Dr. Chilton smiles sadly. You aren’t fooled—it’s clear that he doesn’t truly care about the inconvenience this will cause you. “I’ll cut you a deal, though. You can speak with him after our consultation appointment.” Is the idea of a consultation with you really so fascinating to him? Despite his desperation, you don’t intend to entertain the thought for even a moment. You’ve met many of Chilton’s type—mental health “professionals” that treat their clients as test subjects. You have no interest in becoming a case study.

“Thank you for the generous offer, Dr. Chilton,” you say stiffly. “But I’ll have to decline; I’ll be back with that paperwork.” You don’t give him the chance to respond, instead rising from your seat and walking out of the office. You can feel the man’s gaze burning into your skin as you leave. It’s a different feeling than the one you get when Hannibal’s looking; that heated gaze of Chilton’s holds nothing but malice for you and hunger for your destruction. You can’t get out of the building fast enough.

After that catastrophe, you return to the institute and report your findings to Jack, who immediately grows irritated at the thought of you being turned away at the door. You can’t help but agree with him—you had really hoped to get everything finished with one visit. Honestly, the last thing you want to do is go to the hospital again. Unfortunately, it seems you don’t have a choice in the matter. Jack mentions that the paperwork should be ready within a few days and you’re effectively dismissed.

“Dr. Chilton has taken a rather unprofessional interest in me,” you recount, crossing one leg over the other in your designated chair. You’re back at Hannibal’s office for your weekly appointment. You’re still waiting on that paperwork from Jack, but you know it’ll be ready soon. In the meantime, you’re content to puzzle out just why Frederick Chilton seemed so interested in you. With that thought in mind, you look up at Hannibal.

The psychiatrist is completely frozen. It would be humorous, if not for the aghast expression on his face. Well, Hannibal’s expression is far from aghast—in fact, it’s almost entirely blank— but you like to think that you’ve learned to discern his true emotions.

“Are you alright?” You can’t help but ask.

“Of course,” Hannibal says with a slight smile. You avert your eyes and instead focus on the fire crackling in the fireplace. When you look at Hannibal's desk, you're surprised to find that the sketchbook from before is nowhere in sight. Perhaps he meant to hide it last time. Hannibal’s voice draws you away from your pseudo-inspection of his office. “I was simply taken aback by your choice of words.”

“What?” You frown. “Oh, unprofessional interest? I was referring to Chilton’s insistence on having an hour-long consultation appointment with me. I think he even offered to do it for free.” You shake your head in disbelief.

“You seem to be rather popular amongst psychiatrists and mental health professionals,” Hannibal remarks moments later, after he’s evidently recovered from his prior inexplicable shock.

“Can’t possibly imagine why,” you remark sardonically, finally understanding why Chilton was so interested in you. “I’m living, breathing proof of the failure of social conventions. Who wouldn’t be interested in all this insanity?” You laugh wryly.

“You’re not insane,” Hannibal maintains with furrowed brows.

“I appreciate that, Dr. Lecter,” you answer with a sincere nod. “But if that were the case, then I fear I’d put you out of business.”

Hannibal’s eyes widen, before a slightly amused smile falls onto his face. He clasps his hands and leans forward. You sense the conversation is about to take a turn. “May I accompany you on your next visit to Baltimore?” Hannibal asks politely.

“Sure,” you acquiesce. Secretly, you feel a little guilty for going alone the first time. However, you weren’t hired to be Hannibal’s partner for investigations. For a while there, you felt as if Jack was sending Hannibal with you to supervise you. It seems that isn’t the case, though—at least, that’s what you concluded after your conversation with Jack earlier in the week. “I can’t imagine it will be much fun for you, though.” You admit. The Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane isn’t the most entertaining place on the planet. You can’t quite imagine Hannibal—well-dressed, scholarly Hannibal—standing in those run-down halls. “I disagree.” Hannibal responds, wielding a wicked smirk. You feel a grin growing on your own face in response to his amenability. Hannibal will almost be acting as your security guard, in a twisted way. The thought amuses you far more than it should—so much so that Hannibal levels you with an inquiring gaze. You simply shake your head in response.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, effectively distracting you from the conversation at hand. You frown and ignore the notification, but your phone buzzes again a few moments later and you’re forced to pull it out. Your phone is currently both your work phone and personal phone, although you scarcely use it for personal matters. You get the feeling these sudden notifications are from Jack. Sure enough, when you open the encrypted messaging platform that the BAU uses, you have a few messages from Jack.

Jack Crawford: Just spoke with Alana concerning Gideon.

Jack Crawford: She was his psychiatrist for a while, and maintains that she has information you may need for your meeting with him.

Jack Crawford: I arranged a meeting for the two of you tomorrow morning.

You inhale sharply, before typing out a mediocre response and sending it. You place your phone back in your pocket and take a deep breath, feeling the need to keep yourself calm. You’ve been avoiding Alana ever since the incident… You’d rather not see her again. Unfortunately, however, it doesn’t appear like you have much of a choice. Your growing despair must show on your face, because Hannibal asks you about the nature of the messages.

“I have a meeting with Alana tomorrow morning,” you say, rubbing your hands over your face for a moment. You resist the compelling urge to altogether bury your head in your hands. What should you do? You have to attend the meeting, obviously—Jack asked you to attend and you could use more information on Gideon. However, you’re pretty uncomfortable with the idea of going alone. Suddenly, you think of a solution. “I’m normally not the one to ask, but…” You break off, feeling a bit embarrassed as you stare at Hannibal. However, the thought of Alana making any more romantic advances significantly trumps any of your current apprehension. “Will you go with me?”

“Of course,” Hannibal answers without hesitation. You feel the tension slowly leave your body. Suddenly, the world around you doesn’t look nearly as grim and gloomy. You focus on taking a few deep breaths.

“Thank you so much,” you murmur in relief. “...I’m hoping nothing will happen.” Hannibal frowns for a moment, before understanding passes over his face and his expression turns grave. He looks at you expectantly. His gaze is rather demanding—something you haven’t seen him display just yet—and you decide to meet his eyes. There is nothing but honesty in the lines of his face, the pull to his shoulders.

“Rest assured, I will not let anything of that nature occur,” Hannibal states with absolute certainty. Something about the determination in his voice and the knowing look on his face makes you feel safe. Moments like these make it even harder for you to connect him to the Chesapeake Ripper. There is no grotesque brutality in the gentlemanly way in which he escorts you out of his office after the appointment; there is no hint of ferocious violence in the softly spoken farewell he leaves you with. When you walk out to the car, the night is blanketed with twinkling stars and a full moon. There is beauty in the veiled darkness. You can’t help but think of Hannibal in the same way.

next chapter

#defectivevillain #apologies if the formatting is a lil screwy #Hannibal Lecter x reader #Hannibal Lecter x male reader #Hannibal Lecter x gn reader #hannibal x reader #hannibal x male reader #hannibal x gn reader #hannibal nbc

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dearestro · 1 month

Note

Heyy I love your stories, can you do a James Wilson x Wife! Reader and maybe one day at the hospital a doctor starts flirting with the reader in front of James (he doesn't know they are married) and when they come home he gets jealous and the reader tries to reassure him

Jealousy, Jealousy

Disclaimer: I know nothing about hospital and doctor stuff.

Summary: Being married as a doctor can be hard. No one knowing? Can be harder.

Warnings: Innuendos and crude language.

Your Pov

It was the end of the day. I only had one surgery consult left, and then it was home sweet home. I was looking over the file at the nurse's station. It was a routine appendectomy. One that wouldn't even be done until tomorrow as it wasn't in a state of emergency. However, the working doctor had asked me to come in and ease the patient's worries, so I was happy to oblige.

I was still looking over the file and waiting for Dr. Robertson, when a certain doctor walked up beside me.

"Dr l/n." I smiled at the professionalism.

"Dr Wilson! Good to see you." I didn't look up from the file and tried to act as casual as possible. "How's your day been?"

"As good as it can be for an oncologist." I smiled sadly and subtly bumped his shoulder.

"Well, I'm sure it'll get better." He looked over at me like he was about to reply, but Dr. Robertson beat him to it.

"Dr. l/n! Are you ready for that consult?" I turned to my right to greet the man. He was on the younger side, bold, but a good doctor.

"Just finished going over the patient's file." I offered a friendly smile.

"Great!" He put his hand on my waist and turned serious. "What do you say you and I discuss this case over dinner tonight?" I frowned.

"I don't see any reason to." I said carefully, trying not to offend him. "After all, it's a routine appendectomy." He left his hand on my side and shrugged.

"Well, we don't have to only discuss the case." He said suggestively. I tried not to outwardly cringe at the thought and the presence of his hand on my body instead offering an uncomfortable smile.

"I don't think that's necessary. Besides, I already have plans tonight." I removed his hand gently. Well aware that James was still behind me and could probably sense my discomfort.

"Well then, another night?" This guy was not getting the hint.

"Not likely. Speaking of which I just remembered. I can't do the consultation on the surgery." He frowned.

"Why?"

"I just remembered I already have a surgery scheduled for that time tomorrow, so I'm unavailable, and I assume the patient would want to meet the surgeon who actually works on them?" I struggled to come up with a lame excuse. "However, I can recommend a different surgeon."

"Oh...alright...I guess."

"Good! Try Dr. Hunters. She's an excellent surgeon." And single. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must get going." And I quickly walked to the safety of my office.

The end of the work day came around quick enough, and I started my walk to the car. Once I dropped my stuff in the back and got into the passenger's seat, I looked at myself in the mirror.

What a strange day. People didn't usually hit on me. So what happened today wasn't anything I expected. It was so... awkward. Truthfully, the only thing I want to do now is get home, put on my pjs, and cuddle up and watch a movie. I closed my eyes and smiled at the image I had created in my head. Pure bliss.

However I was awoken from my daydream by the car door being opened. I looked back and smiled as I saw James shove his things in the back and then take his place in the driver's seat.

"Hey." I smiled at him.

"Hey." It was exactly what I had said, and yet there was something off about how he said it. He started the car, and we sat in silence as he drove home.

"Are you ok?" It wasn't unusual for us to be silent on the ride home, but I couldn't help but feel that something was off.

"Mhmm." He kept his eyes on the road, not even sparing me a glance. Not wanting to push any further until we were at home and relaxed, I just sat my hand on his thigh and closed my eyes for the rest of the way home.

Wilson's Pov

I watched as she quickly fell asleep. Her hand still rested on my thigh as if she were tethering herself to me. I felt guilty for giving her the cold shoulder, but I couldn't help it. We arrived at our home. I parked the car and just sat there for a second before moving to wake her up.

"Babe..." I lightly grasped her shoulder, not wanting to scare her. "Wake up...we're home." She groaned in response but stayed still. I sighed and rolled my eyes at what was likely an act.

I got our bags from the back and dropped them off inside before coming back out and going to the passenger's side. I opened the door, careful not to wake her. I smiled, she looked so peaceful.

I unbuckled her as she murmured something in her sleep. Slowly, I picked her up bridal style, careful that she didn't hit her head on the car. In her sleepy haze, she wrapped her arms around my neck and snuggled into my chest.

My beautiful wife.

I closed the door and brought her into the house. When we got to the living room, I laid her down and covered her with the throw blanket she insisted we keep on the back of the couch. I went into the kitchen to make us some dinner while she slept on the couch.

Your Pov

Before I knew it, I felt the car stop and arms wrap around me. However, I was still in a sleepy haze, so I decided to just let it happen. After all, who was I to deny my husband the treat of carrying me? Besides, he's nice and warm. Of course, the moment ended much too soon for my liking when I was set on the couch and tucked in. I would've protested, but I was much too tired.

After a few minutes, I decided it was time to get up and see what was happening. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes as I walked over to the kitchen to find James humming as he cooked. I smiled at his goofy dance he made up as he went along. How did I get so lucky? I walked up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist, effectively burying my head into his shoulder blades.

"Hey babe." I mumbled into his shirt. He hummed in response but didn't say anything. I frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." I turned him around so he faced me and raised my eyebrows. Obviously, I didn't believe him. "It's nothing, really, it's stupid."

"Obviously it's not 'stupid' or 'nothing' if it's bothering you." I cupped his face in my hands. "James Evan Wilson. Please do not lie to me." He sighed.

"It's just...seeing you today. When Dr. Robertson was so obviously hitting on you...it made me....uncomfortable." Oh. I stroked his face and smiled at him.

"Uncomfortable as in...jealous?"

"N-no!" I chuckled softly.

"It's alright James. I understand." I grabbed his hands.

"Y-you you understand?" I nodded.

"Of course I do! You think I don't see all those young, pretty nurses flirting with the hot, sexy, and charming head of oncology?" I smirked as he turned red in the face.

"I-I..." I kissed him softly before he could get anything out.

"My point is...it's normal to be jealous!" I put my hand back up and stroked his cheek. "Besides Dr. Robertson doesn't know we're married. I'm sure if he knew he wouldn't have said any of that."

"I know it's just-"

"Hard?"

"Yeah..." I continued to stroke his cheek as I looked into his eyes.

"I know. Which is why I've been thinking." I paused as he cocked his head in confusion. He was so damn cute. "I know when we got engaged, we agreed to keep things on the 'downlow'. But I suppose...it wouldn't hurt...if we...tamped down the professionalism a little bit." I grabbed his hands and brought them to my chest. "Maybe a hug. Or a kiss here." I brought his knuckles to my lips. "And there." I pecked him on the lips, but he seemed to linger. "And you know...I had this patient. In addition to their wedding bands...they got a design tattooed on their ring fingers. She said they tend to fade but I thought it might be nice. I could get your name tattooed around my finger. That way, everyone knows I'm yours, and you're mine. Of course you don't have to get one if you don't want..." I kissed him again before meeting his eyes again.

"You-you'd do that? For me?" I laughed lightly.

"Of course. I'd do anything you wanted if it showed I loved you." He started to smirk.

"Anything?" I laughed and kissed him before patting his cheek and walking back to the food that had been long forgotten.

"Keep it in your pants, baby. We still have to eat dinner!" He groaned as we went back to preparing dinner.

"Tease."

Author's Note: Thank you for the request! It was literally perfect. I just hope I did it justice! Thanks for reading my other work, I'm so glad you liked it. I was curious though about Wilson's Pov...I can't tell if I'm doing it in his voice well enough or if I should just stick to the reader's pov. Sorry it's kinda short. And yes I did title this after a song, I needed a title for the Masterlist I'm making and couldn't think of anything else. Anyways thanks again!

#dr wilson x reader #james wilson x you #james wilson x reader #dr wilson x you #james wilson x y/n #james wilson fanfiction #house md fanfiction #rsl #robert sean leonard

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pjsk-story-summaries · 2 months

Text

Leo/need Main Story Summary

TL;DR: Though they all were once close, after Tenma Saki's prolonged hospitalization, Hoshino Ichika, Mochizuki Honami, and Hinomori Shiho had drifted away. Despite Saki's attempts, she can't find a way to get them all back together.

One fateful day, the four stumble upon "Untitled" and the mysterious world of SEKAI. Saki asks if they can reform their childhood band, but Shiho and Honami refuse. In the meantime, Saki and Ichika form their own band with the hopes of inspiring the other two to join.

Shiho says she will consider it if they can play a song of her choosing perfectly within a week, but Saki ends up collapsing from overworking when showing their progress. Shiho recognizes both the hard work they've put in and her own love for her friends and joins the band. She also explains that she abandoned them only to protect her standoffish reputation from rubbing off on them.

Honami, however, still refuses. Saki realizes it's probably for the best to leave Honami be now that she's no longer getting bullied by her classmates. Shiho disagrees and confronts Honami. Ichika realizes her true feelings about wanting to be together with everyone and talks to Honami herself, bringing her to the SEKAI to watch the stars. Honami realizes her love for her true friends is stronger than the fear of her bullies and officially joins the band.

Official English Youtube upload / Song (needLe) / Animation

Chapter 0: Ichika reflects on the band she, Saki, Honami, and Shiho had formed for fun as children. She recalls having been incredibly grateful to the others for joining her, and how they all wished to be together for a long time to come. They go watch the shooting stars from a jungle gym. In the present day, Ichika sees Honami out the classroom window, but the latter reluctantly ignores her. The same happens with Shiho after crossing paths in Scramble Crossing. Back home, Ichika notices her phone flash and is transported to the SEKAI, where Miku and Luka introduce themselves. The duo want to help them find their true feelings again, but Ichika doubts it could ever come true. She's then forced out of the SEKAI. All four childhood friends separately watch the stars.

Chapter 1: Ichika encounters Honami in the courtyard, but Honami leaves as another classmate calls her. She again has another awkward encounter with Shiho. Ichika worries the other two might not consider her to be friends anymore. Her fears are interrupted by Saki's arrival as a new student in her class. Saki is as cheery as ever, but ignorant to the dissolution of the former friend group.

Chapter 2: Ichika is hesitant to tell Saki the truth. All four cross paths in the school hallway, but Honami and Shiho both leave quickly. Saki chalks it up to them being busy. Later, Honami talks to some current classmates about Saki's arrival as Shiho walks by. They discuss Shiho's cold personality, but Honami is too scared to admit they used to be good friends.

Chapter 3: Saki takes Ichika around town with her, excited to catch up on all the life she missed while in the hospital. They end up talking about how fun their childhood band was. Saki realizes it's lonely just being her and Ichika. After parting ways, Ichika wants to find a way to have the four of them together like it used to be, but the thought seems impossible. Miku pops out of the SEKAI and asks for her to visit with friends. Ichika is still confused, but agrees that it would be fun to have a band again. The next day, Saki tries asking Shiho to hang out, but she refuses. Honami gets pulled away by other classmates before Saki can ask her. Saki tries to confront Ichika about their weird behavior, but backs away when she fears there might actually be a problem. She asks about Miku instead and finds a strange song called "Untitled" among the playlist, accidentally transporting them into SEKAI.

Chapter 4: The duo search for the mysterious sound of Miku's guitar. They end up running into both Honami and Shiho doing the same. The four find Miku in an empty classroom, along with all their old instruments. Saki begs to play together again, to which they hesitantly agree.

Chapter 5: Ichika and Saki are starting to have fun playing when Shiho suddenly stops them mid-song. She is frustrated with the current skill level of the other three. Miku asks to join in this time, impressing the others with her skill. Secretly, Ichika hopes Shiho and Honami remembering this song means they also might wish to bring the band back. Saki has the courage to say that out loud. Shiho flat-out refuses, and Honami hesitantly denies, both departing the SEKAI. Miku urges Saki and Ichika to not give up on their feelings.

Chapter 6: Ichika reflects on her SEKAI encounter. She truly hopes that reforming the band might bring things back to how they used to be. The next day, Honami and Shiho cross paths in the hallway. Neither know what to think about the SEKAI. Shiho asks if Honami really does harbor such strong feelings about them all, but she's pulled away by her classmates before she can answer, upsetting Shiho. Her classmates still believe Shiho to be rude and sketchy. Honami tries defending her, but denies ever being friends out of fear of upsetting them. This only makes Shiho angrier. Meanwhile, Saki and Ichika have their own discussion about SEKAI. Saki is excited they all have Untitled on their phones, even though she was shot down. Ichika proposes starting a band, just the two of them. Saki accepts, hopeful Honami and Shiho will follow behind.

Chapter 7: Ichika and Saki head back to SEKAI to thank Miku and tell her the news. Luka pops in to introduce herself as well, and offers to mentor the both of them. The Virtual Singers reassure the two that their wish to be reunited is worthwhile, strengthening their resolve.

Chapter 8: Saki and Ichika walk around, grateful for the Virtual Singer's help. Ichika is grateful for Saki's presence, but again doubts her decision to not tell her why Shiho and Honami are so distant. In a flashback to middle school, it is revealed that one day, Shiho decided to completely isolate herself, declining to give any other reasoning than to practice bass. Back in the present, Ichika accidentally runs into Honami buying apple pies. She tells her that she and Saki had started a band and invites her again, but is turned down. Later that night, Honani questions why she turned down the offer yet again. Ichika thinks about how lonely Honami looked in middle school, despite her insistence everything was fine. The current Ichika berates herself for not helping sooner.

Chapter 9: Saki brings Ichika to a music store after school to help her choose a keyboard. They run into Shiho there. Saki begs Shiho to join their band so they can hang out again. Shiho reveals that she had been invited to join a band in middle school, but after arguing over not taking things seriously, she had been kicked out. Shiho gives Ichika and Saki a song to practice, with the promise to join their band if and only if they can manage to play it perfectly by the next week. Later that night, Shiho begins questioning if keeping her distance truly was the right move.

Chapter 10: Ichika and Saki run to tell Miku and Luka the good news, and to ask for help perfecting the song. While practicing, Saki plays Ichika an original melody. She then talks about Ichika's old love of writing song lyrics, and how she hopes to write with Ichika one day. Miku brings the pair to the rooftop to look at the stars. Ichika and Saki chat about their fond memories of watching the Leonids as kids. They're determined to watch the stars as a unit once again. A few days later, Ichika and Saki are ready to show Shiho the song. Honami sees the three of them talking from afar. She thinks her not joining them is for the best, but begins to wonder why it makes her feel so lonely.

Chapter 11: Shiho is impressed with how much Saki and Ichika had practiced. Suddenly, Saki collapses. Shiho regrets asking her to practice so hard, but Saki reassures her it wasn't her fault. Shiho tells Saki how she had kept refusing making new friends in middle school and turned into an outcast. Shiho had distanced herself from Ichika and Honami to protect their reputations from getting tainted, too. Shiho joins the band.

Chapter 12: The next week, Ichika finds Honami standing outside of her classroom to ask about Saki's recent absence. Ichika is glad Honami talked to her normally again. She then reveals Shiho had joined the band and asked her again if she'd like to join, too. Ichika expresses her guilt over not helping Honami when things got rough, to which Honami immediately shuts down. Honami explains how her middle school classmates had often taken advantage of her kindness to vent, which made others mad about her being a people-pleaser. The girls began bullying her behind her back, which began to spread to Ichika. Honami decided to cut ties to protect her. The current Honami is scared that accepting Ichika's friendship again would make the bullying resume. She runs away.

Chapter 13: Ichika, Saki, and Shiho talk about telling Miku and Luka about the new addition. Saki asks if Honami would want to come, too, but the other two doubt it. They proceed to tell her about what they know of Honami's middle school bullying. Shiho is upset with Honami over how submissive she's being, because she knows the true Honami knows how to stand her ground. She doesn't understand why Honami is giving up like this. Saki realizes it's probably best to give up on getting her to join the band to avoid causing her any trouble with her classmates.

Chapter 14: Luka notices Ichika's worries over the Honami situation. Luka tells Ichika that "there is no right or wrong in music",- there's no one right decision here, and that they should follow their hearts. Saki decides to tell Honami that they'll leave her be and apologizes for the trouble. She returns to Ichika and Shiho, but begins crying. She's sad about leaving her friend, but knows it's the right decision. Later, Ichika and Shiho discuss the matter, to which Shiho reveals how wrong it feels.

Chapter 15: Shiho confronts Honami in the hallway. She questions if this is what Honami really wants, and if she really cares about Saki's feelings at all. She calls Honami out for only caring about herself. Honami knows she hurt Saki, but she's terrified of being bullied again. Later that evening, Shiho runs into Ichika and regrets the harsh things she had said to their friend. Ichika praises Shiho for her determination. Shiho returns the compliment over Ichika's rationality.

Chapter 16: Ichika, Saki, and Shiho walk around after a productive SEKAI session. After Shiho departs, Ichika and Saki talk about how nice it is to have her back. Back home, Ichika reflects on how much she's changed since she was younger, and how powerless she feels when it comes to helping Honami. Suddenly, she finds an old notebook of song lyrics and gets an idea.

Chapter 17: Ichika goes to SEKAI for help. Miku realizes Ichika has found her true feelings: she loves her friends more than anything and wants to play with them again. Ichika realizes the star chart on the chalkboard must represent Honami's true feelings, too. The next day, Ichika asks to meet Honami after class.

Chapter 18: Ichika brings Honami over to the SEKAI's rooftop to show her the stars. They talk about their fond memories of the past, and how the stars always looked brighter because it was the four of them together. Ichika asks if Honami wants to be friends again. Honami is still scared of her bullies, but realizes just how much her true friends matter to her and berates herself for being so selfish. She really does want to be back with them. Saki and Shiho run over with Miku and Luka to congratulate her.

Chapter 19: Honami apologizes for distancing herself because of her lack of courage. She thanks Shiho for what she had said and officially joins the band. Untitled flashes and forms into a song: needLe.

Chapter 20: The next day, Honami tells her classmates about the events of the past few days. They're genuinely happy for her and the new band. It was a lot easier than she had feared. (Saki, Ichika, and Shiho watched from the window.) Later, the four of them discuss their band name. They all come up with the name "Leo/need", after the Leonid constellation, the slash of a shooting star, and how each member is needed in the group. In SEKAI, Miku and Luka watch a shooting star pass overhead.

Virtual Singer Chapter 1 (Pre-Chapter 0): Miku practices guitar on her own, hopeful the others will meet them soon. She wonders if she should start acting more like a senpai would, but isn't sure what exactly that entails. She decides that it means doing what Luka would. Miku tries it out, with little success. Luka comes in and questions what Miku is doing, reassuring her that she's always here to support in whatever way she can. Miku asks Luka what "senpai" means to her. Luka believes it's all dependent on the people around her.

Virtual Singer Chapter 2 (After Chapter 5): Miku waves Ichika and Saki goodbye after the first practice session. She trusts their resolve to bring them back together. Luka enters, having let Miku take the lead to introduce herself as a proper "senpai". She's proud of the hard work Miku had (secretly) been putting in for this day. They reflect on how each member's sound was hiding a piece of their personality within: Ichika's determination, Saki's joy, Shiho's distance, and Honami's fear. They banter a bit about the senpai role before practicing once again.

Virtual Singer Chapter 3 (After Chapter 14): Luka talks to Ichika about the latter's concern over Honami, and Miku Saki's. Miku reassures Saki that she's proud of her for considering Honami's feelings when deciding to leave her be. In the meantime, Luka and Ichika had finished their conversation and came over. Luka talks about how Miku has been working hard to become a proper senpai to the others, much to her embarrassment. They're certain Honami will realize her true feelings eventually.

Virtual Singer Chapter 4 (After Chapter 20): Miku and Luka discuss their feelings over the new Untitled song and the band's formation. Leo/need pop in and ask if they'd like to join a session, to which they happily agree. Saki talks about how they want to start writing their own songs and hands them Ichika's lyrics. Despite Ichika's embarrassment, they find them to be cute and sincere. Luka comments on Miku's excitement to be with the girls as their senpai.

#project sekai #leo/need #main story #hoshino ichika #tenma saki #mochizuki honami #hinomori shiho #l/n miku #l/n luka #shizuku shows up in chapter 6 and tsukasa is mentioned in chapter 12!

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