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gogobootz1 · 5 months

Text

The Mentor pt.3

Finnick Odair x Reader

Summary: A morning chat at the train station proves very revealing for you and Finnick.

Warnings: mention of forced prostitution and mild self-harm

part two | part four

The marble steps you sit on are practically ice, and the cold seeps quickly through your pants. The train station is entirely empty, and you sit outside of it looking out at the city.

Knees up to your chest, you take a deep breath. The roses you clutch in your icy fingers seem to taunt you, and once you look at them, you can't pull your eyes away. A beautiful gift belying your tragic fate.

You set all but one down beside you, then start to pick at its petals. Completely transfixed, you don't even hear the sounds of someone approaching until you drop the last petal.

"What'd you land on?"

The words break your focus, and you quickly gaze up to find who interrupted you. Finnick interprets your gaze as a confused one and elaborates, "Loves you/loves you not?"

That's not why you were picking the petals, but if you had been asking the flower, it would've been about him. The thought is embarrassing, so you give a half-hearted shrug and look away.

"Well, I got these for you," he holds out a small, far more rustic bouquet. Violets. "But it seems like someone's beaten me to the punch." What a cruel metaphor. Snow blocking your chances yet again. Standing in between you and a real life with real connections. Soon enough, you won't be real. What'll be left when you run out of choices you can make for yourself?

For now, you put the roses down anyway. The breath from your melancholy laugh is visible in the crisp morning air. "Thanks," you say, holding your hand out to accept the flowers. They remind you of home. A patch of them grew out in the field behind the house you grew up in. Your fingers brush over his as you accept the bouquet.

He jolts, "You're freezing!" Dropping down next to you on the steps, he removes the violets from your grasp and rests them in the small space between you. You follow the purple flowers with your eyes as he swiftly takes your hands in his own, attempting to warm them. "Do you purposefully torture your hands?"

You don't answer, still looking at the flowers he brought you. Finnick sighs, "You take such good care of Darla. Do you even bother looking after yourself?"

"What's the point?" Your heart hurts. As much as he hates it, he doesn't have a reply to that. He often wonders the same.

"How will you hold all the flowers you're collecting if your fingers freeze off?" He tries for lighthearted, but you wince. Instantly, he frowns. While typically, your replies to him are short, bordering on rude, they're always spirited. You seemed upset before he left you at the party last night, but now you seem disheveled. Like you hadn't had a wink of sleep.

Clearly, he's caught you in one of those moments. All the victors have them, but usually in private. He's not keen to leave you, though.

"Who gave you the roses?" He ventures, suddenly getting a sickening feeling. He's not expecting a real response, necessarily, but a 'wouldn't you like to know' would ease his anxiety.

You pick up the heavily perfumed flowers, "Oh, these? A gift, I suspect. I made someone very happy last night, and I'm sure I'll be doing it more often," you say bitterly before you toss them back down. Your voice comes out small, though, like you haven't built your armor thick enough to face this yet.

"From the office of the President?" It's not even a question. He already knows. Your face reveals your surprise. "I got a similar congratulatory present when I made my first deal." While he figured out that Snow had you in a similar position, it's clear you suspected nothing of the sort when it came to him. As you look into his eyes, he hopes you're getting what he's trying to convey. That the two of you are the same. And you can finally, finally, be honest.

"It was more of a negotiation," you nod, holding his eyes. "Not my first deal."

"I figured," he says.

You laugh sourly, "Is it easy to tell that I'm a cheap whore?"

"Don't sell yourself short," he scolds, "you're a very expensive whore." He almost worries it won't go over well when you snort and launch into the freest laugh he's heard in his life. Thank God someone appreciates his humor- Mags hates these jokes. He's got plenty more of them, and will definitely use them on you now that he knows they'll land.

"Thank you for the vote of confidence," you reply, tongue-in-cheek. Finnick can tell by your genuine grin, however, that you appreciated the joke.

"You're welcome," he nods, "You know, I've considered abandoning prostitution in favor of stand-up comedy."

Somehow your grin grows wider, "Really?"

"Really," he confirms, "I just have to perfect my material before I pitch it to the big man." You nod sagely, entertaining his bit. "He might just keel over in laughter," Finnick suggests.

You lean in a bit, "Think he'll keel over dead?"

"Here's hoping!" He leans in, too, sending you a flashy smile. You laugh again and look back out at the city. An amicable silence falls between the two of you, and you enjoy it a bit before breaking it.

"I met with him before the taping to tell him our deal was off. My nana died during Darla's games, so I thought he had nothing to hold over my head anymore. Then, at the party, our escort told me that Snow wanted everyone to get to know her. And when I saw her talking to-" you cut yourself off, but he understands. Some of them are too difficult to even think about. "I marched into his house and told him I'd take on twice the clients if it meant Darla would never see one." Finnick's breath catches in his throat for a second.

"So... a reminder of my renewed imprisonment," you pick the white roses up again and wave them sarcastically.

Finnick snatches them from your hands and launches them far across the steps with a firm throw. They scatter and tumble across the white marble. The action is so unexpected that another laugh bubbles out from you.

"I think you're incredibly brave," he declares, looking you right in the eye. "You might be the only victor worthy of the title."

"No," you're quick to insist. "That's Darla. She's earned her peace."

"You haven't stopped to think that you might've too?"

You shake your head, "But I haven't. I don't think I could ever atone for what I've done- no matter how hard I try." His brows furrow, finding your words worrisome.

Catching his look, you elaborate, "Every visit to Mrs. Montgomery's classroom, the parks I design, the gardens I dedicate, my broadcast segments- they're all born of guilt!" You admit, getting choked up, "It's my way of saying sorry. Sorry for fucking your husband, even though he paid to fuck me, and I wanted to die each time he did it. Sorry for being a plague upon the Earth, here's something to make it better. Sorry for-" You only notice you'd been aggressively scratching the back of your hand when Finnick grabs your wrist. It cuts off your rambling and prevents you from hurting yourself anymore.

"Why don't you talk to someone instead of torturing yourself?" He sounds pained.

“Who would I talk to?” You shrug, swiping at a stray tear.

“That was… supposed to be an offer,” he winces.

“Oh?" you blink at him.

“I’m really just a call away,” he nods, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head.

“Right,” you say, still sounding a little unsure. You blink a few times, averting your gaze and thinking it over.

“I know you think I’m gorgeous, but I’m sure it’ll be less of an obstacle for you over the phone,” he jokes.

You turn toward him slowly, eyes wide, “she didn’t.”

“She did,” he smirks at you.

You hit him firmly in the gut, and he lets out a heavy breath as he curls inward. He’s glad you’re feeling up to your usual abrasiveness.

You’ve already moved from your spot and are heading toward the station. He stumbles up after you.

You stop suddenly. Not that you were really going anywhere. The train for Ten won’t leave without Darla and Darla is chronically late. He nearly runs right into your back, and you see him struggle to regain his balance as you whip around.

He’s much closer than you thought, and you have to take a small step back. “What’s your number?”

“What?” He asks, reeling from the near-collision.

“How am I supposed to call if I don’t have your number?” You ask, and his eyebrows raise at the question. You totally skipped the ‘yes, thank you, what a great idea,’ part he’d been hoping for. But, he’ll take what he can get. He rattles off the number in an instant.

“Are you going to remember that?” He asks.

You nod noncommittally, “We’ll see.” The exasperated look on his face pulls another grin from you. He doesn't fight the smile off his face when he sees yours.

A car door slam breaks your extended eye contact. The other District Ten mentor breezes right past you and Finnick, clearly annoyed at being up so early. You know him well enough to know he’s going right back to bed on this train.

Darla, however, looks like hell-warmed over. “What the fuck happened to you?”

“Shhhhh,” she holds a finger to her lips, the other clutching her head. Your expression drops as you take in her appearance.

“Are you hungover?!” You try to steal her dark sunglasses, but she’s too quick.

“Whatever, Mom,” she grumbles, “hurry up and kiss your boyfriend goodbye so we can leave.” She trudges further into the station, where a train is inevitably waiting for you. Your eyes go wide in embarrassment.

“Darla!” You yell, and she winces at the noise.

Finnick chuckles, “What happened to moderation?” She throws him the finger, earning further laughter.

You shake your head at her behavior, and when you turn back to Finnick you find he’s already looking at you. “What?”

“Nothing,” he shrugs, acting innocent. “Oh wait,” he snaps and doubles back to grab the flowers he arrived with. “You almost forgot these.”

You shake your head at him, smiling, “Can’t have that can we?”

“Safe travels,” he nods at you, turning to go. He makes it a few paces before you call out after him.

“Finnick,” he quickly turns at the sound of his name. When you recite his number back a surprised grin lights up his features. “The uh- the phone works both ways, you know. I’m not a bad listener.”

“Noted,” he nods, smiling. You smile back at him, a genuine one, and it makes you look younger. A loud call of your name from a train within the station makes the both of you laugh.

“Bye, Finnick,” you smile at him, giving a cute little wave. He returns it readily.

And he thought he was in trouble before.

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@emerald-09

I also didn't really edit this one, but I think I like how it turned out? I'm not sure if I'll write more for this mini-universe since I have a few other Finnick ideas but we'll see

#finnick odair x reader #finnick odair #finnick x reader #hunger games #hunger games fanfiction

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pomefioredove · 16 days

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OH MY SEVEN! PLEASE I NEED A PART 2 OF MC GETTING BOUGHT BY NBC (or maybe they get bought by rsa? By like Chenya or Neige?)

part two of the NBC ending is here! very intrigued by the idea of an RSA ending, especially since our knowledge is limited. I also kin snow white so maybe I have a little soft spot for neige.

bonus: I had to stop writing this to save another animal that got inside. second time this week.

parts 1 | 2 | 3 | kalim | 'bad' ending

summary: yuu transfers to RSA type of post: short fic characters: neige, chenya additional info: yuu is gender neutral, pretty platonic

This entire ordeal had been nothing if not shady.

From the purpose, to the "donations", to the absence of the prefect themselves...

...And now, the grand announcement- that of which Crowley had been hyping up for days- was cancelled.

"I don't get it," Epel murmurs, walking on a sideways footpath back to the hall of mirrors. "You really think he just took all the money and ran?"

Vil huffs, the disappointment heavy in his voice. "Well, it certainly seems that way. No one's seen him all day,"

Despite the sour mood over the trio of Pomefiore students, the day is bright and sunny. Birds sang, the sun shone, even the wind carried a suspiciously merry tune with it.

"We should not give up hope so soon. Anything could happen," Rook ponders. "Who knows? The day is not over yet."

"I'm starting to wish it was," Vil says. "It's far too jovial for such an underwhelming afternoon. And the whole purpose of this walk was to clear our minds... hmph."

Epel squints ahead, taking in the way beams of sunlight seem to shine through the foliage, casting rays of gold over the usually darker campus.

"Y'know, I betcha- I-I mean, I think you might be onto something. It is unusually cheery today, isn't it?"

Vil huffs. "Wonderful. Nature itself mocks me,"

"Non, it's not the climate which has changed... it's more of a presence. Monsieur Pommette is correct," Rook says. "Something has shifted here."

Vil rolls his eyes, not exactly in the mood to be playing word games with Rook again. He shoots a glare to Epel, warning the boy not to encourage him, and a silence falls over the three.

Though... he still cannot deny that something feels aloof. Something that isn't sitting right with him...

He sighs. "Perhaps we should check on the prefect. Just in case,"

And so the three stop in their tracks and awkwardly, though hurriedly, walk to Ramshackle.

Nothing is quite amiss about the building itself, though, still, there's something hazy and dreamlike about it. A warm, golden glow that turns the rough and brittle exterior into a quaint and charming home, full of light.

"I don't like this," Epel murmurs. Vil does not respond, but he understands. He's having similar thoughts.

Just as they're about to enter, someone tall and dark steps outside.

"Crowley!" all three snap, in varying tones of voice.

The man goes stiff and, for a moment, looks as if he's about to make a run for it- though he thankfully holds his ground. "Ah- good afternoon, dear pupils. Having a... studiful day?"

"That's not a word," Vil crosses his arms and glares. "Why are you here?"

"I was... well... just discussing some things... with... the prefect..."

He sounds utterly nervous.

Vil's eyes narrow. "What are you hiding?"

Before he can answer, the door behind him opens again, and you peer outside, giving Crowley a chance to escape. "Guys?"

"Trickster! We are relieved to see you in good health!"

"Hm? Why wouldn't I be?"

Epel shakes his head. "W-well, you just haven't been around much, and we saw Crowley- hey, where'd he go?"

Vil grumbles something indistinct, massaging his temples. "That man..." he sighs. "But back to business. Are you well? What's happened?"

You look away. "Well-"

Thankfully, before you have to explain it yourself, the door opens wider, leaving the Pomefiore trio face-to-face with the one person they least expected to see.

Neige beams. "Oh, my... hello, Vil! I didn't think I'd run into you here!"

The housewarden's eyes immediately narrow, and it takes him a moment to respond. "Yes, well, as you know, I go to school here. Would anyone care to explain this?"

A voice from behind the trio echoes. "Oh, I volunteer!"

Epel squeaks and jumps (much to his embarrassment) and the other two whirl around to an ever-smiling face they can't quite recall...

"See, we're on the moving squad," Che'nya giggles, slinking back to the front door of Ramshackle. "You wanna know why? I'm sure you're just dying with curiosity, aren't you?"

"I can put the pieces together myself, thank you," Vil murmurs. "But I do have a few questions."

Che'nya opens his mouth wide again-

"-Not for you," he turns to you. "How? And why, exactly?"

You shrug, looking to Neige for help.

Which he gladly provides, of course. "Well... it was more of a school decision. We heard what was happening, and held a vote," he says, speaking tentatively while under Vil's astute gaze. "We've heard lots about how much your prefect has helped here, and how unfortunate their circumstances are, and... well..."

"A person like that just doesn't go to NRC," Che'nya snickers.

Vil glares for a moment longer, and then sighs. "Well... this is certainly a turn of bad luck for the lot of us,"

"But I can visit!" you insist.

Neige and Che'nya both nod in agreement, though the latter's placid smile makes his approval seem less genuine.

"Well," Vil says, turning to the boys beside him. "Don't you two have anything to say?"

Epel clears his throat, trying his best to sound light and formal. "I think it's... it's... I'll miss you," he sulks.

"A magnifique opportunity! Think how much you will learn, how many new people you will meet- oh, you must allow me to visit often! I could not bear to let you make all these beautiful discoveries on your own!" Rook says, dabbing the corner of his eyes with a handkerchief.

"Why am I not surprised?" Vil sighs. "Well... I suppose I have a duty to inform the others. And, perhaps..."

He pauses, his watchful gaze fixed on you.

"...We might hold a vote of our own."

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #neige leblanche x reader #che'nya x reader #NOT typing out his full name

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runningfrom2am · 5 months

Text

cold nights // part five

summary: all the stars aligned, and it was you.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.7k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: this one got me y'all i won't lie-

series masterlist // playlist

"Is everything okay? You look upset." You ask Coryo, mere moments after he joined your side of waiting tributes and mentors to tour the arena. How had you seen it so quickly? He curses himself mentally for making his distress so obvious.

For you, it was how pale he looked. All the colour had been drained from his face, and you doubted that was from him running up to you to catch up. He looked too fit to be sick just from running. The crease in his brow and bloodshot eyes certainly didn't help, either.

"Nothing." He replies quickly as the line starts to move. "How are you doing today?"

"Well." You nod, allowing the shift in topic. You wouldn't want to press him, you just didn't want whatever he is upset about to be because of you. "I have been reading. It helps."

"Oh, good. I'm glad." He hums, looking down at you for the first time.

"Thank you, again. I hope it wasn't too much of a hassle to get."

"Not at all." He shakes his head, returning your ever-present smile as best as he can within an hour of witnessing the possible death of another one of his classmates. Truth is, it was hard to get Romeo and Juliet for you. It wasn't commonplace in the Capitol, clearly, and he only knew one person, more broadly, one family who had ever so much as set foot in the Districts.

"Coriolanus! What a pleasure! Please, come in." Sejanus's mother greets him at the door, stepping out of the way and gesturing for him to enter.

"Mrs. Plinth, how are you?" He asks politely, stepping in and wiping his shoes on the doormat.

"I'm good! Yourself?"

"Good." He nods.

"Come eat, I just finished up some baking." She walks back into the home, and he follows suit. He's shocked when he's led into the kitchen, and she pats a stool at the kitchen island for him to sit. "Would you like some tea?" She offers, already cutting a slice of pie for him. It was still steaming. Still warm. His stomach growled just at the sight as he sat down. Typically one wouldn't host guests in your kitchen, but she was District. Old habits die hard, he supposed.

"Please." Coryo smiles at her gratefully.

"How is your mentorship going?" She asks, and he can tell by her refusal to make eye contact that it's purely to make conversation. She likely shared some perspectives with her son, but she was too mature to state such unpopular opinions in a way her son was not. "Sejanus told me you got paired with the girl from District Twelve. He really likes her. Said she's very smart. Very kind."

"She is. She's lovely." Coryo nods as she slides a plate in front of him, handing him a fork moments later. "I think it's going well."

"It's such a shame..." She mutters, clicking her tongue and shaking her head as she puts the tea on the kettle on the burner in between them. "Anyway," She catches herself, moving on quickly. "What can we do for you? Shall I call for my son?"

"Y/N is the reason I'm here, actually." He replies, ignoring her comment. Admittedly, when it came to you, he agreed with Mrs. Plinth and her son. It is such a shame.

"Oh?"

"Yes. I would like to get her a copy of her favourite book. I was hoping you might have it, I've never heard of it before."

"We have a library." She nods. "I can certainly take a look, what is it called?"

"It's very, very old, so no worries if you don't have it, but it's called 'Romeo and Juliet'." He tells her, eyes gleaming with hope. If they didn't have it, he wasn't sure what he would do.

"Oh! That is familiar to me." She smiles. "I haven't read it since I was your age, but I'm sure we still have it kicking around here somewhere. Do you mind keeping an eye on the tea while I take a look?"

"Of course." Coryo nods, wanting nothing less than to make his own tea as a guest in someone's home, but he has to do what he must to get you that book.

As soon as she wipes her hands on her apron and walks out of the kitchen, he hears her voice again. "Sejanus! Your friend is here!"

Internally, he rolls his eyes. He didn't want to see his classmate, but he was in his home. Maybe Sejanus would handle his tea, at least. He took this opportunity to start eating the warm pie in front of him, he hated people seeing him eat, but he was making all kinds of sacrifices today. Maybe he should ask if he could take a piece for you.

"Oh. Coryo." Sejanus says, walking into the kitchen. "What brings you?"

"Y/N." He replies. "I'd like to get a book for her. Your mother says she has it."

"Ah." Sejanus hums, slotting himself into the seat next to Coryo. So much for the tea. "What book?"

"Romeo and Juliet. It's her favourite." Coryo explains. "She's going to do a monologue from it in her interview."

"At least she'll talk to you." Sejanus sighs. "Marcus won't even look at me."

"Well, Y/N is nicer than most." Coryo says, much more eager to talk about you than Sejanus and his problems.

"She's something, huh?" Sejanus smiles, taking the bait.

"Yes. Very intelligent."

"I think it will be easy for her to get donations. Even if people don't know what she's talking about." Sejanus elaborates. "She's pleasant to look at, and the people here are so shallow that that might be the only thing that matters."

Pleasant, to Coriolanus, was an understatement. Surely, you were the most beautiful thing the Districts had to offer. That didn't mean that Sejanus or anyone should be valuing you based on that, though. Your mind was just a bonus. It would work wonders in humanizing you to the people of the Capitol. It had certainly worked on him.

"I hope it's more than that." He replies, and truth be told, it's a lie. He doesn't want anyone to look at you the way he does, but if it meant people sending money so he could save your life, so be it.

"I do too, but it's doubtful. Regardless, she'll do well. You'll have lots of donations to work with." Sejanus says, attempting to comfort his friend's worries. "My ma will convince my father to send some for her. I heard them talking about it, she wants to help you."

"Is that not a conflict of interest?"

"Maybe." Sejanus shrugs. "They can't donate to Marcus, obviously, but Ma really likes her. Asks about her every day. She's rooting for both of them. The problem is they can't both win."

Coryo would take it. One hundred percent he would take it, but it makes his heart crack even more.

"Here! Here it is!" His mother calls out as she returns to the kitchen, excitedly placing the book on the counter next to Coryo, patting the top of it.

"Thank you, Mrs. Plinth." He sighs in relief, picking up the old book in his hands.

"Please, call me Ma. We're so far past formalities." She grins, leaning against the counter across from them as the tea starts to whistle. Coryo would sooner die than call her 'Ma', but once again, he would do just about anything for you at this point. "I hope she enjoys it."

"I'll get it back to you before the games." Coryo promises.

Her smile fades to a sad one as she pours out the tea into a mug for him. "Yes, well, feel free to hold onto it as long as you need to, dear. I have more books than I could read in a lifetime."

"I did promise her I would read it." He matches her sentiment. "So I'll get into it after the games. I doubt I'll have any free time until then."

"Keep it. It's yours." She smiles.

"Thank you." He says again, flipping briefly through some of the pages. It was old, practically falling apart in his hands, but he knew you would take good care of it. And after you, he would do the same.

"I hid it with the blanket." You tell him. "I sure hope it doesn't rain..." You mumble, looking behind you to check how clear the sky currently is. So far, the book would be safe.

You're careful, hesitant even as you approach the turnstiles ahead of you. You wish that it wouldn't speak when you walk through it, but you know it will as you watch every other tribute ahead of you push through the metal gate.

"Enjoy the show!" You wince at the words, then you're on the other side. That wasn't so bad, but the statement echoes endlessly in your mind, bouncing off every other thought you've had today as you carry on into the open arena, allowing the other tributes and mentors to enter behind the two of you as a camera is shoved in your face and you smile, giving it a small wave.

"Well, hello there." You grin, looking past the camera to the man holding it. "How are you today?"

You don't get an answer as one of the mentors is yanking him away to point the camera at someone else. As you look around, instinctively, you step closer to Coryo's side as you gaze around the arena. "Gosh, It sure is... small." You mutter, swallowing the lump in your throat as reality comes crashing down on you in the dark space.

He grabs your hand.

Coriolanus has always thought the arena was huge. From his memories at the top of the stands, it did look big, but down here, on the floor, it did feel a lot smaller. Especially when he forced himself to imagine that it would be him who would be killed in this very room, not even a week from today.

There was nowhere to hide, he knew that, but now, the idea scared him. What would you do? He doesn't even have any good advice to give you.

You jump as the door slams shut behind you, turning quickly to look. Even Coryo looks scared, and you pull yourself closer to him. Had they lied to you? Were the games starting today? You didn't want to say goodbye yet. To the world, your family, to Coriolanus. You weren't ready- but would you ever be?

That's when the windows start to slide open above you, letting the light back in.

"Welcome to the arena for the Tenth Annual Hunger Games. Tributes, mentors, you have fifteen minutes to survey the space and discuss strategy." The voice over the loudspeakers is reassuring to you, but you know that's only temporary.

Coryo stays silent as he looks around. Clearly, you were ahead of him, though, already pulling on his hand in the direction of some of the other tributes. He only slightly resisted, confused as to what was happening, but he would let you have this ounce of freedom to do what you pleased.

"Hi!" You smile hopefully at Marcus as he's standing with Sejanus. "I think we're supposed to be forming alliances. I trust you, Marcus."

Your candidness almost shocks Coryo, but he quickly realizes what you're doing. You have almost no shot without somewhere to hide, so your best bet is to find allies. He didn't want you to do this, but now he sees few other options. He makes brief eye contact with Sejanus as Marcus ignores you, just walking away. Coryo starts scanning the rest of the tributes, suddenly focussed on who would be your best strategic option.

"Hey." Coryo whispers, leaning in to whisper in your ear. "If you want allies, talk to them." He points over to Reaper and Dill. He could see that Reaper was strong, and Dill was clearly a liability. You could slot right into the middle as far as skillsets go; he could defend you and she was no threat.

"Okay. Come on." You nod, dropping his hand to head toward them. Coryo looked around on the way, trying to see what other mentors were doing. What he was supposed to be doing, but most of them were just talking to each other, others only to their tribute. There was no right action, but what the two of you were doing was different. That was good.

"Dill, Reaper!" You smile as you get closer, giving a slight wave. Immediately, Reaper is looking past you and glaring at your mentor, tucking Dill behind his back and shaking his head. "Oh." You stop, looking between the two of them and the glare that Coryo is matching. "Never mind, then. I'll leave you to it."

Coryo is already trying to find another option for you, it wasn't looking good. You turn back to him, sighing before plastering a smile on your face, trying not to look too discouraged. "Okay, well..." You look around. "Oh! Lamina. She's lovely." You grab his hand again, but he stays in place as he watches the interaction she's having with Coral and the team she's already forming as they're actively casting Lamina out in favour of the boy from her District.

"Coryo?"

"Not her. Them." He explains, pointing them out to you.

"Oh, I don't know..." You're hesitant, and he understands why, but that's not an option. Without Reaper, numbers would be your biggest safety.

"Safety in numbers." He mumbles, overriding your reluctance and starting to walk their way, pulling you with him.

"Oh, okay. Yeah." You agree, subconsciously cowering behind him. "Actually, Coryo, I'm really not comf-" You speak up, trying to stop his crusade before you're jumping from the sound of an explosion above you.

You both freeze, looking up as the ceiling begins to collapse down on you, more blasts making your ears ring.

Quickly, Coryo is changing directions, running in the opposite direction and pushing you ahead of him as you follow your feet, sprinting toward the light at the door over the shaking ground. You don't last long, stumbling over some already fallen debris and falling. "We gotta go, we gotta go- Y/N, get up!" Coryo is ahead of you now, and you can hardly hear his yelling even though he's right in your face, pulling you back to your feet.

Just as you regain your footing side-by-side, Coryo is the next to fall. As he takes you down with him with the grip on your wrist, you quickly realize it's because a beam fell on his back as the two of you stumbled forward. The flames spreading to the back of his red uniform were the first thing to clue you in.

In your panic and heavy breathing, you can still see his lips moving. You're already trying to pull the bars off of him when he first even gets the chance to scream for help. You groan, inaudible even to you over the commotion as you put all your weight into pulling it back, hoping he's not already severely burned, but you're sure he is as the flames burn the metal rod in your hand.

Your grip slips and you fall back into another piece of the fallen ceiling that surrounded you, apparently sharp as a protruding piece of metal pierces your upper arm. You yelp, looking down as the blood begins to pour from the wound, but you ignore it to keep trying to free your mentor. Then, you're being pulled back by your dress. "The gate is open! The gate is open, come on!" It's Marcus, and by the time you even turn to look at him he's running toward the open door, motioning for you to follow. He gives up quickly as two of the other tributes follow. You don't even hear the gunshots that knock them down. He's trying to escape. You could escape.

You hesitate, looking back down at the boy in front of you who you can see is choking to try and breathe. Someone else slides in at your side as you continue to pull, but they're pushing you back. "Y/N! Run!" Sejanus shouts in your face, quickly removing his hands from you to grab the beam where you were just holding it. "I've got him- Go!"

"My honest, best advice?" Your conversation from the other day immediately comes to mind. "Figure out a way to escape."

You frantically look between the door and the boys in front of you, trying to decide. You have to decide right now. Right now, right now, right-

It's an easy decision. You grab the hot bars again and start pulling with every bit of strength you can muster.

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#tbosas #tbosas fic #tbosas x reader #coriolanus snow #hunger games #thg #thg fanfic #thg series #the hunger games #thg fanfiction #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus fanfiction #coryo x reader #coryo snow #snow x reader #snow lands on top

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short-honey-badger · 5 months

Text

Peppermint Tea 13

Another part so soon! I'm on a roll and already have start the next couple chapters! I hope you enjoy. This was was just kinda indulgent.

Warnings! SMUT! Mihawk knows what he is doing with his tongue. Fingerfucking. Kissing. Some dirty talk. Mihawk is a pervert.

Masterlist

It is 29 days later, you know, because that's how long ago you planted your strawberries, when you decide that you are tired of beating around the bush. Sure, the two of you kissed, and Dracule liked to touch you and explore you, but ever since that one delightful morning, the well-groomed man never went very far. He always pulled away at the last second when you were just on the verge of begging him for more. You were sick of waiting for Mihawk to make the first move, but you definitely weren't brave enough to make it yourself.

So that left you having a conversation with him. One that made you embarrassed just to think about. Dracule had phoned earlier that day, the snail phone was the best gift he'd ever given you, and let you know that he would be arriving soon, so you had at least two hours before he got here.

The bedroom was first on your list. It needed a good cleaning, and that would take the longest. Time was running out by the time you finished fluffing the quilts and pillows, and you dashed to the bathroom to wash and shave in the appropriate areas. You knew what you wanted and had to be prepared for it.

You are still wrapped up in a towel when you hear the front door open, and Hank gives a happy woof to the only man who can just waltz inside your home. You curse yourself for not remembering to grab any clothes and peek out the door of the bathroom. Just as you are trying to creep to the bedroom across the small hallway, a looming shadow blocks the light, and you are caught in a yellow-eyed gaze.

“Catch you at a bad time, Snow Angel?” Dracule teases with a mean twist of his lips. You blush and quickly retreat to the bedroom, but the warlord is right on your tail.

“I was trying to finish up before you got here,” you tell him as Mihawk follows you inside and shuts the door behind him. You round the bed, putting the queen-size between the two of you. “You are early.”

The warlord scoffs, “I am never late or early, Darling. I always arrive precisely when I mean to,” he eyes you from over the bed, and you gulp when you see his gaze darken a shade, “And what a treat it is to arrive home to see you in nothing but a towel.”

The word home catches in your brain, leaving you stalling a bit. He's said it once or twice before, and it always leaves you a mess. How can he call this place home so casually when Dracule himself has told you that the sea has been his home for most of his life? It left you reeling every time you realized how much you mean to him. How much he meant to you.

A warm hand landing on your arm knocks you from your thoughts, and you jerk your head up to see Dracule giving you a look of concern. You smile at him, feeling bold in his boat of playfulness.

“Maybe you should take it off?” You suggest and are treated with the rare sight of taking Mihawk by surprise. His eyes widen, and you watch in fascination as his golden eyes turn molten. A mean smirk curls his mouth at the side.

“Is that what you want? Do you want me to touch you, sweet thing? Do you want me to show you all the ways I could make you come?” Dracule snarls the filthy words, pushing himself closer to you at the end of every question. Mihawk expects you to back down at his aggression, at showing you how much he desires to have you, to taste you.

A whine leaves your throat, and your hands grasp the edges of the long coat that Dracule still wears. It isn’t often that your warlord stayed dressed in his rather flashy regalia, and it made you ache all the more for the pirate. You force your thoughts into order and lock eyes with his molten gaze. You need him to know that you are being truthful, “I have been wanting you to touch me for a long time, Mihawk. I just didn’t know how to ask.”

The warlord is quiet as he searches your eyes for any hint of uncertainty. When he finds none, Dracule takes a half step back, and his voice is rough when he speaks.

“Lay on the bed, on your back,” Mihawk orders and looks down at you under the wide brim of his hat. He looks dangerous like this, and you are reminded that Dracule is so much stronger than you are. He clicks his tongue when you take a beat too long, “Don’t keep me waiting, Angel.”

You turn to hop up on the bed, shimmying back so that your head lies against the pillows. A shiver wracks your body, and you swallow harshly when Dracule follows you up. He rests on his knees, and you can’t help how your devil fruit reacts when he reaches for the edges of your towel. It’s one thing for Mihawk to see your upper half, you liked when he laved your breasts with attention, but he has never seen you naked before.

“Relax, sweet thing,” Dracule rumbles above you and leans down so that he can kiss your brow, “I will stop when you ask me.”

“Okay,” you whisper and sigh heavily when you take a deep breath and relax into the bed. Dracule kisses your cheek, and then he pulls away to take hold of your towel, easing it away from where you have it tucked around you. A low, pleased sound escapes him when you are revealed to him.

“Beautiful, every inch of you,” Mihawk praises and then proceeds to pinch your left nipple. You hiss at the prick of pain, though a soft groan follows when he rubs your sensitive nub between his thumb and forefinger. His other hand follows the curve of your body down to your hip where he rubs gentle circles there, and you relax further into the bed, eyes fluttering closed as you give up control of the situation to Dracule.

Mihawk soaks in every reaction you have to his touch. He experiments, smoothing his hands up and down your body, seeing what you enjoy best. When you like it soft, and when you like when he gets a little rougher. He scoots down, ringed eyes raking down your body until he spies the apex of your legs and the neat thatch of hair that hides your most sensitive parts away.

The warlord grasps your legs and lifts them from the bed. He gently opens your legs, pushing them up so that your feet rest on the bed and your knees sway in the air. Mihawk kisses your knee, smoothing his calloused hands down your thighs, and curls one around the inside of your leg, keeping you spread for him.

Frost has begun to creep up your legs, and the cold of your devil fruit and the heat that Dracule puts off make every unexpected touch feel like a live wire against your skin. One hand moves to skate down your leg and dusts the frost away.

“I’ve got you, Darling,” Mihawk croons above you, and then his middle and ring fingers are sliding through the folds of your cunt. Your eyes fly open and you look up only to lock eyes with the entranced look that the warlord sports. He looks in a trance as he gently rubs his fingers back and forth, humming in content when slick gathers on them.

You watch, eyes tracking his hand, as Dracule brings those two fingers up to his mouth and wraps his lips around them. He cleans his fingers and gives you such a lewd grin afterward that you have to look away from him. Who knew that such a sophisticated man was such a pervert?

There isn’t much time to think about it, not when Mihawk slides those same fingers back through your folds, stroking you in a perfect rhythm that has you arching off the bed.

Dracule's other hand holds you down, making sure you stay still for this, and crooks his middle finger, slowing to a stop. He had made sure to get you significantly wet just for this, and he sighed in delight when he sank his digit inside of your throbbing hole. Your pussy sucks him down to the last knuckle, so wet from slick and his saliva that it is an easy stretch.

You suck in a sharp breath at the intrusion. It doesn’t hurt. You’ve touched yourself before, but having someone else do it is an entirely new feeling of bliss. You whine when Dracule begins a slow pace, and it isn’t long before he is pressing his ring finger in along with the other. Pleasure builds, and you lose yourself, hips rutting against his hand as heat coils tight in your stomach.

Mihawk’s thumb suddenly catches your clit and the sharp press against the over sensitive button has you hiss his name as you come, walls clenching around his fingers and you see spots with how hard you've clenched your eyes.

Dracule smirks, satisfaction curling hot in his chest. His cock aches in his pants, and he longs to shuck them off and slip inside your inviting warmth. But he holds himself back, instead gently pulling his fingers from your fluttering cunt and sticking them right back in his mouth to clean off.

“Is that all you want, Dear One?” Mihawk murmurs above you and dips to press his cheek to your own, lips ghosting over your ear as he speaks, “Or do you want more?”

While he waits, Mihawk presses chaste kisses and sucks gentle hickies along your skin, the hand on your hip rubs soothing circles there, occasionally dipping down to touch your swollen clit teasingly.

You roll your head, lips seeking his in a kiss that is more tongue and teeth than anything else. Dracule licks into your mouth, spit leaking down your chin as the messy kiss continues. You shift your hips, making his hand fall between your legs, and you break the kiss long enough to plead for more.

“Don't stop, Dracule, please.”

The warlord doesn't need to be told twice. He kisses you one last time before sliding down and taking a nipple between his teeth. His thumb finds your clit and presses harsh half circles into it, sending shocks through your body. Your hands find his hair, weaving through the dark locks and scraping your nails along his scalp. Mihawk growls low in his throat at the blunt pain, and bites your nipple in retaliation.

You yelp and send a glare down at him, but Dracule is already soothing the hurt with a sweet lap of his tongue that has you sighing. He moves to the other nipple, giving it the same attention as the first before he shuffles further, trailing a hot line of kisses down past your navel. You open your eyes, licking your lips when you realize how far he's moved down.

“What,” you swallow harshly, “What are you doing?”

The look you receive is one of pure want, his ringed eyes blazing as they lock with your own, “I want to taste you, sweet thing. I've not had my fill of you quite yet.”

The sound that leaves your throat is a mix of a squeak and a moan, and you drop your head back to the pillow, “O-okay,” you stutter out. You weren't about to argue with him.

Dracule smirks and presses a kiss right below your belly button, and then down he goes. He shoulders your thighs open, and then looks up to watch your expression when he lolls his tongue out and swipes the hot muscle along your puffy folds. He watches your mouth drop in a silent moan, hips stuttering in his hold as he does it again.

Mihawk swirls his tongue, saliva pooling in his mouth and dripping down to join the slick clinging to your pussy. It's lewd, and messy, and your cheeks are on fire as you listen to the wet sounds of Dracule eating you out.

You curse when his lips find your clit, nails digging into his scalp when Mihawk sucks on the nub, tongue lapping until you are jerking your hips and accidentally forcing his face in your cunt as you come. You hear him groan as you gush around his face, and you shake when you feel his tongue probe forward to lap at your hole, making sure not a drop of your essence was wasted.

You release his hair, and when Dracule rises, the warlord looks thoroughly debauched. Slick and spit are smeared along his face, and his usual perfect facial hair has been mused this way and that. Mihawk looks devine like this, and arousal is already stirring in your gut, just looking at him. He wipes his mouth and then shuffles up the bed to lay beside you.

Dracule pulls you into his arms, curling them around you and tugging until you lay splayed across him. He hums as your weight settles across him, hand sweeping into your hair to gently massage your scalp.

“Are you okay, dear one?” He asks quietly and peers down at you, yellow eyes seeming to glow in the low light of your bedroom.

You nod easily, “Better than okay, Dracule,” you assure him and place a loving kiss on his chest. The two of you still needed to have an actual talk about this, but that could wait. The two of you would have plenty of time later.

@writingmysanity @kenkenmaaa @foggyturtleknightangel @browneyedhufflepuff @goth-mami-writer @myradiaz @djbumblebee @fluffybunnyu @bookandstar

#fanfic #one piece #reader insert #fluff #dracule mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #mihawk x reader #opla mihawk #mihawk x you #opla mihawk x reader #mihawk x y/n #smut #fingerfucking.#peppermint tea #one piece live action

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junkiespromise · 1 year

Text

superstar | ms47

request: can "superstar" be about mick? y/n is a very supportive girlfriend and she cheers for him and goes to every race but she's not famous, she's a "pretty normal" person compared to him, so his fans don't really understand what he sees in her?

summary: where two young kids fall in love but the world one of them is involved in seems to be against their happiness.

warnings: angst yeah and a bit of relationship doubts.

notes: the second story and first request of the eras masterlist is finally here! i hope ypu guys enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writting it, also it was my first social media au, and remember that requests are still opened!

masterlist

Mick’s life had always been filled with the thrilling sound of car engines and the adrenaline that comes with excessive speed. His father being probably the most famous Formula One driver in history was perhaps the reason why he was so interested and enamored by the sport, making him always wonder if his father was not who he was, would he even be this obsessed with it, or would he want to be a football player or a pianist.

So he made his way through the motorsport world, karts like any kid and then a formula three and two champion until he achieved the highest category and just like his father he became a Formula One driver but he realized that even now when he had finally achieved everything he had dreamed of, he felt, lonely.

Even when he stepped inside the most rapid vehicles in history, where he thought he would feel the most complete, his heart told him that something was missing, to make it alright, to put it all in place. He didn’t know what it was but his soul ached for it, he longed for a deeper connection, someone who would see him for who he truly was and understand his mind and soul.

So when he crossed paths with Y/N, one Sunday evening back home in Germany those lingering feelings disappeared, he knew she was the one.

Mick remembers the day they met as if it was yesterday, he remembered her clothes and could describe in a detailed way how her hair was wrapped in a hair band forming a low ponytail that rested on her shoulder.

He was wearing some long-sleeved shirt that was years old and a pair of dark blue jeans tightened with a belt that probably belonged to his father, considering the damaged black leather of it.

That cold evening he and his sister decided to go out for a coffee, and after an insisting chat with Gina, he decided to go. He was back home, finally, after a never stopping routine of constant travel he had some time for his own, and like every year he went to Germany, with his family. So that day they decided on a small café that not many people frequented.

Mick had asked for a cappuccino and Gina for a macchiato, his order was the first one they called but just as he was stepping towards the girl who was handing it to him, exactly like in a rom-com his sister made him watch, he felt a coldness hit his chest, in a second his white long-sleeved shirt was splashed in brown iced coffee.

A wave of apologies said by a sweet voice filled his ears and that was the moment he finally looked at the girl who had accidentally thrown her coffee onto his shirt.

—Don't worry too much, I'm lucky it was an iced one—He said, slightly chuckling, placing his hand on her wrists, stopping her from smudging it more. Now his mind wondered why she was even ordering it when outside you could see slight traces of snow.

Their eyes finally met, for the first time, before, she was too busy trying to get rid of the stain on his shirt to pay attention to the person she was cleaning it off of. Embarrassed by the situation with her cheeks flushed in a light pink that went all the way up to her ears she stopped for a moment the apologies.

They told each other their names and rapidly started talking, as if faith had brought them together and made them meet like that. In the back, Gina laughed at the poor flirting attempts of her brother who had also completely forgotten about their arranged siblings' coffee date.

And for months after that, they were friends, each too afraid to confess the feelings they had, until finally, one night, when he had traveled to her hometown as a surprise Mick tried to in the most rom-comish way he could, confess his feelings.

Afraid about not hearing an answer to his confession, all kinds of thoughts run through his mind, maybe he had read the signals wrongly and she just wanted to be friends.

But for his luck, the thoughts were interrupted by a pair of lips clinging onto his.

Now, months into their relationship he knew that she was that missing piece he had looked for all along. He raced in the fastest cars in the world yet he felt more adrenaline when he looked at her, his nervousness when he started a race did not compare to that of placing his eyes on hers. And his worries faded to nothing when he looked at her

But people started talking, they always did, and at first, not caring was so easy, in the end, a relationship with a superstar who has thousands of fans all around the world was hard for everyone who was in one, except that to Y/N, his fans seemed harsher on the critics.

They speculated about her motives, if it was for some quick fame or the money he could bring to your home or even the connections she could get and that after catching them she would rapidly leave him, both of them knew the truth, they loved each other and nothing could stop them from it but sometimes it felt like they could.

Mick knew he shouldn't doubt their relationship but he could not stop his mind from wandering if she truly loved him, he knew he loved her but what if it was not like that to her, what if they were right.

The doubts started to get to his head, the side comments, the replies to any post he made about her or she made about him, they, at a point, became to much, so the distancing started between them, slowly, but not slow enough for her to not notice.

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sarahluvs47 only here for the mick content like all of us.

formulaleclerc this the girl mick is dating, why? lol

wagsl0ver no one know really, he could

truly do much better

yourbestfriend you look so hot, how do you do it, stop

As the sun began to set in the Saudi Arabia grand prix circuit, everyone's faces filled with excitement, the voices high pitched with enthusiasm. She stood with her hands on the metal railings that separated the crowd from the track.

Although excitement filled the air, Y/N's heart ached. She loved Mick, so much, his love completed her, but people commented on it, on a love that was so pure it seemed almost indestructible, and for a moment she was so foolish she believed that, that their love would be forever, even with all the comments from the outside, their own little world would stay the same.

She knew, the second Mick had told her he was a driver, a formula one driver, that it would be hard to maintain a relationship with a superstar like him. But she was willing to try, even if it meant that the moment she stepped out into the world as Mick Schumacher's girlfriend, that her way of living would not be the same and that that quiet life she liked to have would not be possible, at least for the time they dated. And for him, she was willing to try.

Taking a deep breath in, she locked her phone, reading through the dozens of messages and comments people left her was exhausting and she did not understand the why of them, she hadn't done anything to anyone, she was aware of the ruthlessness of the internet but she had never experienced it first hand.

The comments had been recently getting to her head and she knew they had gotten to Mick's too. Lately he had been more distant, quieter also, and she didn't know what to do about it, talk would be the obvious thing but she avoided serious talks at all costs, she wasn't good at it and her eyes got all watery when she made eye contact with the one she was talking too. But, right now, it seemed like the only thing she could do, force him to chat with her.

…

The wheels on the car were barely been held together, after forty two laps with them and fifty seven laps total, the race was coming to an end and for the first time, Mick, was finally going to place his feet in the podium, second place, just milliseconds behind the blue car numbered "one".

Gina and Corinna sat by her side, the three of them on the verge of tears. The cameras pointed at their faces and then back at the race, she wouldn't celebrate yet, to her it was bad luck. Her heart accelerated at the same pace as the cars passing on the screen in front of her, one more lap and it was his.

The checkered flag appeared in the air, finally it had come to an end, the moment the car passed the checkered flag, the three women and the entire team got up, at the same time, screaming and hugging each other. Now they waited for him to arrive and congratulate him.

Her eyes placed on his, she knew that behind that helmet, a pair of blue eyes were staring back. She smiled when he finally ran towards his team to hug them, the flashing of cameras and screams filled her ears but as soon as he reached out for her and his arms wrapped around her, her head on his chest, his helmet still on, it felt as if they were the last people on earth, just them.

It was celebration day for Mick Schumacher, after that eventful race and his first podium he could finally celebrate it, with his friends and his team, even part of his family and of course, his girlfriend who had been with him for months now and was one of his biggest supporters.

He had changed already after a shower, into a pair of light washed jeans and a navy blue shirt. Mick looked at himself in the bathroom mirror one last time, he didn't need to look great but in the end it was a celebration for him so he had to be presentable at least. After a few minutes in the bathroom he finally came out to go look for his girl, who he thought was going to go with him.

He was surprised to find his girlfriend facing towards the TV, sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing a matching black and light pink sweats set he had gotten her one time after she had told him she had liked it. Her phone facing down by her side and her hands where, he supposed, resting on her face, covering it.

— Hey, what's wrong? Are you not coming? — He sat by her side, putting his arm around her, fingers softly twisting her hair between them.

— We have to talk Mick, I, I can't stand this anymore — Her voice cracked at the end, even if she tried to hide it, he knew it had.

— What? Y/N, look at me, what is going on? — His hands grabbed her face now, his blue eyes scanning over her features, she was god damn gorgeous.

— Those comments, you know, they keep saying that I'm only with you because of your connections and shit, and you have been so distant lately I just — She looked in his eyes, not for long before she drifted them away from him and started to look at different things that seemed now, extremely interesting. Not the best at keeping eye contact especially in moments like those.

Mick immediately reacted back with the intention of talking back, refusing to hear her re-call the comments but Y/N talked before.

— I just don't want that to destroy us and you to think that I'm looking for fame, I just love you so much, and you've been so great to me so you suddenly distancing yourself from me is, I, please don't hear them —

His heart broke when he heard her shut down cries and saw her tear stained face. His arms wrapped around her shoulders and his hands grabbed her head softly and hid it against his chest, immediately feeling a wetness on his shirt, her tears.

A wave of sorries emitted in a low flooded her ears his nose against her head whispering them closely.

— I, you were right, I did listen to some comments, but I doubted myself and if I would be able to have a true relationship, and with you after today I know I have it. — Y/N felt his smile as he talked just by hearing the way he said the words. — When mom talked to me after the race she told me that you were the one and that you looked at me the same way she looks at dad —

The blond haired boy smiled as soon as he felt the smile of her girlfriend on his chest.

With his right hand, the one which he was not holding her with, he cleaned her tears from her face — I love you, so much I can barely hold it inside of myself, okay? You are the best girl someone could ever ask for. — She said it back after that and he repeated it a few times before falling quiet and for a few minutes they stayed like that, her arms wrapped around his chest and her head on his chest, one of his hands on her back and the other on her hair softly caressing it.

When they separated her hands went to her cheeks to wipe away the tears she had, now drying. — So, you're staying? — He asked, she simply shook her head — I'll go get ready, i have the cutest outfit planned —

She got up and walked to the bathroom quickly — You had an outfit planned without even knowing if I would get on the podium? — he asked, laying down on the bed — Of course! I felt it in my heart, you know, that you were going to be up there. I didn't tell you because I didn't want to jinx it, so I kept it to myself. — Mick smiled, looking at the ceiling, she had felt in her heart that he would be on the podium, how was he supposed to act after knowing that.

— Okay, I'm ready, let's go — She appeared on the room again, wearing a silk dress, black fishnets and a pair of black mary janes on her feet, her hair slightly wet and her eyes painted with a sharp eyeliner.

— You look, great, gorgeous actually — He walked up to her, admiring the way she looked, when he was finally in front of her he kissed her, with love and pureness.

To Mick, Y/N was his superstar and he knew she was hers too.

mickschumacher

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mickschumacher celebrating P2 for the first time and some pics with her.

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sehtoast · 2 months

Note

Hii! Id like a request!

Could you perhaps do a scenario where the reader gets stranded at an airport (Perhaps with panic attack)?

I'm experiencing this currently and thinking about Homelander is helping, Somehow

i'm so sorry you had to go through that anon ❤️ homie has an odd way of making life's woes suck a little less. apologies that this took as long as it did (and also i've never been in an airport before so idk if this is even the right vibe adfkljdfk), but i hope it's still enjoyable and i hope your airport adventure ended happily.

Oh, if you thought it couldn’t get worse, you were so wrong.

Cancellations across the board, a raging snow storm outside, disgruntled people everywhere, and far too much noise for your overloaded senses. This is what you get for flying out to go see a friend in the dead of winter.

It wasn’t like you could call an uber to the nearest hotel, either. Pretty much nobody was going anywhere in this storm, and you’ve been here for hours now. God, you should’ve picked a morning flight, but you just haaaad to sleep in.

Eventually it started getting to you.

You’re alone, surrounded by angry people, in the middle of fuck knows where, with no guarantee of getting home or if your ticket is still going to be honored and–

You don’t even notice your breathing growing frantic until it’s overpowering and all you can do is hug your knees and try to stay calm–

You reach for your phone and send off a text to the one person who would maybe be awake at this hour.

God I’m fucking stuck here and I miss you and I don’t know what to do.

Your chest feels tight and your mouth is dry. You hold your phone tight, cringing at the battery level.

7%.

You’d love to charge it, but the iPad parents are currently occupying every outlet in the area and if you hear one more child scream because they couldn’t watch their damn skibidi toilet videos–

It buzzes and you unlock it like a madman.

Told ya you should’ve flown air-Homelander.

You smile, warmth trickling in to fill your otherwise endless pit of anxiety.

It would’ve been too cold on my face :( and you’d be carrying all my luggage. Besides, I couldn't ask you to fly all this way.

The next response comes almost instantly. Well, as instantly as it can with how slow he types.

Picky picky. Where are you?

In the lounge-ish area. On the floor, because I guess I picked the busiest airport in the world…

2%. You’re almost ready to snag one of those outlets and suffer the blubbering.

Shucks, that’s a bummer.

It’s not so–

You wince as your screen flickers, waves of sadness overtaking you in conjunction with that dreaded anxiety. Gone is your only lifeline, and it hits you that you’ll have technically left him on read too. You should’ve told him about your battery– fuck, fuck, fuck.

You hug your knees again and shove your useless earbuds in, hoping to dampen some of the noise. It doesn’t work, and you can distinctly make out the sound of a man loudly demanding a full refund.

You try to imagine Homelander. What tales would he have for you once you returned home? How much trouble did he stir up while you were away? Probably the usual, but… you were supposed to see him tomorrow morning when you got home.

God, that thought makes you ache for home even more.

You shut your eyes and attempt a nap.

You try and try to sleep to no avail. Just when you think you might get a wink of rest, you hear audible gasps and shouting. Your eyes shoot open, expecting the absolute worst, but all you see are two imposing sets of red boots.

“You forgot to text me back,” he says nonchalantly.

Tears of joy bite at your eyes as you look up, and you all but launch yourself off the ground and into his arms.

“M’sorry,” you mumble against him. “Battery died.”

“Mm, if you say so. I feel like this was all part of your elaborate plan to get me here.” Homelander pulls away just slightly to look down at you, a twinkle of sympathy in his eyes- a very rare sight. “Well, I know I can’t fly you home, because you’ll turn into a big popsicle, but… there is a hotel nearby and you do deserve a nice place to lay your head.”

Your heart feels so warm it could melt the blizzard outside.

“You just gotta tolerate a little cold.” He grins, winking at you. “And air-Homelander doesn’t have delays. No luggage fees either.”

You throw yourself back into the hug, squeezing him with all you’ve got.

“You’re the best,” you whisper in his ear.

“Yeah, I know.” He replies, uncaring of the spectacle you two must be. “Now let’s get you cozy.”

#homelander #homelander x reader #homelander fanfiction #antony starr #the boys #request

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nr1chaedickrider · 4 months

Text

And then I go and spoil it all, by saying something stupid like - i love you.

Tzuyu never thought that a walk in the snow could turn into talking with the nerdy pianist of the school band.

Love is a strong feeling.

It can do you good,

It can hurt you.

So is hate.

Two strong feelings that can affect you, that change how you talk to a person, how you think about them, how you feel about them.

For Tzuyu, however, these feelings are too strong.

She tries to ignore them.

Emphasize, she tries.

Desperately, she places her brush on a small table next to her.

She doesn't like what she has drawn on her canvas.

And it's not because it looks bad, no, Tzuyu would say of herself that she's actually pretty good at it, there's always someone to compliment her on her work.

It's more that the drawing looks too much like that one girl.

Better said, Dahyun.

Very talented, loves music and plays in the school band. Tzuyu has English and art with her.

Tzuyu is also in love.

Whether you can even call it being in love is the question.

Tzuyu would probably never say "I love dahyun" because she thinks it's stupid.

They are friends, have met up several times, sit next to each other in English and Art classes.

But for Tzuyu, it's one-sided love - because Dahyun would definitely not love the quiet girl who isn't good at anything except art.

Tzuyu lets out a sigh and looks beside her, out of the window.

The streets full of snow, the sky dark blue, a few lanterns illuminating everything.

She decides to go out, maybe it will help her get inspired to draw something.

Something that has nothing to do with Dahyun?

She puts on her coat, a scarf around her neck.

She turns off all the lights before closing the door and going out.

Every time she takes a step in the rather deep snow there is a muffled sound, somehow annoying but somehow also so pleasant.

Sometimes an old couple walks past her, or people walking their dog.

And Tzuyu thinks about how all these people have their own lives, how interesting it actually is.

And as she walks on, she hears a voice calling out to her.

At first she thinks it's her mother nagging her for dressing too thinly for such cold weather.

But when she turns around and looks at who has actually called her,

she is standing right in front of Dahyun.

She has a smile on her lips, and just like Tzuyu, she's also wearing a coat and a scarf (which is actually too big for her, but Tzuyu thinks it's cute).

"Oh, Dahyun," Tzuyu replies with a smile.

She hopes the smile doesn't look too fake, because she wasn't planning to meet Dahyun during the walk, when she actually wanted to let all the things disappear from her mind in peace.

If you want to be a little more extreme, Dahyun is actually the reason why Tzuyu is out here at all, even though she could be at home, in the warmth, alone.

"What are you doing here?" Tzuyu asks as the two start walking side by side, because she knows that Dahyun lives much further away, she knows that Dahyun has a small park pretty much next to her, so why is she right here?

"Honestly, I have no idea. I'm looking for inspiration for a song, a project in my music class, and I was thinking I need to go somewhere, somewhere I don't go often, for new thoughts" she says with a small smile, "and you?" she asks.

Tzuyu ponders a little, thinking about how she should phrase it.

Because somehow Dahyun has the same motive as her.

Only with slight differences.

"I wanted to draw, but I couldn't concentrate," answers Tzuyu.

It's not actually a lie.

But Tzuyu prefers to leave out some details.

"It looks like we're here for the same reasons," says Dahyun and laughs a little.

Tzuyu would like to turn around right now and find an excuse why she supposedly has to leave.

Because she doesn't want to make pointless small talk, she doesn't want to hear Dahyun's laughter, which only makes her fall in love with her even more.

As the two walk on, Dahyun stops in front of a frozen lake.

Tzuyu looks at the lake first, it's beautiful, something she could draw.

But she is quickly distracted by Dahyun, she looks at her, examining her side profile.

And when Dahyun suddenly looks at her, she blushes, quickly looks back at the lake and hopes that Dahyun doesn't think too much about it.

What happens inside Tzuyu is that she says the next sentences, that she dares to say something she was senselessly afraid of.

"I like you"

Tzuyu says, her eyes focused only on the lake, she's too scared to look at Dahyun.

"I like you too, of course" Dahyun replies, but she's immediately confused when Tzuyu lets out a laugh.

"Not the way you think" Tzuyu says, and Dahyun looks at her, a thousand questions in her head.

Tzuyu is still looking at the lake.

"I love you" says Tzuyu.

It's silent, except for the breathing of the two of them and Tzuyu's words, it's completely silent.

This scene is like a cliché, like in those high school movies, Tzuyu thinks to herself.

And maybe she also hopes that it ends like in a high school movie - that Dahyun loves her too.

Dahyun doesn't answer, but just lets Tzuyu talk.

"I.. I don't know how it happened, but I hate it. Maybe I should hate you because you're good at everything, because you're somehow so perfect.... But somehow..." Tzuyu starts to say, her eyes full of tears, gaze still fixed on the water in front of her.

"I'm sorry" she says.

"I never wanted this" she adds.

"So please, just stop giving me hope, don't go for a walk here, do it at your place..." she says.

Dahyun feels like she has even heard a sob.

She looks at Tzuyu.

And maybe it's stupid what she wants to do, but Dahyun couldn't care less.

"Tzuyu," she says, but she doesn't respond.

"Tzuyu look at me" she says, and this time she responds, she turns to Dahyun and looks at her, a tear running down her cheek.

Dahyun stretches out her hand and Tzuyu feels like she's about to get a slap in the face for being so stupid, for having feelings for Dahyun.

But no.

Dahyun runs her thumb over Tzuyu's cheek, wiping away her tear.

Tzuyu looks at her in confusion.

"You're stupid," says Dahyun.

Dahyun stands on her tiptoes and comes closer, her lips landing on Tzuyu's.

Dahyun's lips on Tzuyu's?

And before it can come to anything more - Dahyun pulls back, goes back to her actual size.

Tzuyu looks at her, confused.

"I'll see you on Monday," Dahyun says and walks away.

Tzuyu doesn't move, she thinks over everything that has happened in the last few minutes.

And before she can somehow, finally, react, Dahyun is already out of sight.

The sunrise looks beautiful.

Usually people stay awake to watch the sunset, but Tzuyu always preferred the sunrise.

She doesn't know why.

She looks at her canvas, and this time it is not a person who is painted on it.

On the canvas you can see a frozen lake.

Something that to other eyes only shows beautiful nature is much more to Tzuyu.

At the bottom, in a small corner, she paints a little heart.

And she smiles, because this time it has something to do with Dahyun, and this time she wanted it that way.

Dahyun has inspired her to do something that Tzuyu should have done a long time ago.

Her thoughts are interrupted when she hears her cell phone ring twice.

'Two new messages:

Dahyun:

Tell me what you think,

*audio file attached*'

Tzuyu blinks once, then twice, and then a third time to see if it's really true.

The title of the audio file is what shocks Tzuyu, something that gives her a tingle in her stomach.

'Frozen Lake - A love song'

Tzuyu picks up her cell phone and lies down on her bed, cell phone beside her as she turns the volume all the way up and listens to the audio file.

The melody played by the piano, something that immediately reminds you of winter.

Tzuyu feels herself smiling like an idiot.

Dahyun sings softly, gently, and yet so pleasantly.

Words about love, about a sudden confession.

And when it's finished, Tzuyu picks up her cell phone and writes -

'So I inspired you?'

'Always.' replies Dahyun.

Tzuyu smiles as she stares at the messages.

Suddenly, however, Dahyun's words come back to her.

"See you on Monday"

And Tzuyu suddenly realizes,

Monday is a public holiday.

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unseededtoast · 8 months

Text

Light As A Feather | Spencer Reid x F! Reader

Summary: The gravity of your job begins getting to you, and you come to realize you've forgotten how beautiful life can be. And one tranquil night, it's like Spencer is able to lift the weight and makes you feel light as a feather. Inspired by Hozier's "I, Carrion (Icarian)"

Cross posted on Wattpad and AO3 and here is my masterlist!

Word Count: 8.7k

Warnings: General violence, angst, pining. Poorly Edited

a/n: howdy folks. I'm still in my spencer reid/hozier brainrot era and so here's another. I hope you all enjoy it and thank you for all of the support I've received, it means the world!!

His presence is enough to make you forget about the horrors of the world, of your job. Right now, it's just you and him, and you've never felt lighter; so unburdened. You're convinced that if he wasn't there, holding onto you with his magnetic pull, that you may just float away in the breeze like a feather.

You had never been to Colorado before, and now you wish you could be here under different circumstances. It's the beginning of fall and it seems as if the people of Boulder are head over heels in love with the season. Which is understandable, you think you'd love fall this much too if you lived in a place this beautiful. The trees are painted in vibrant shades of yellow, orange, and red and the distant mountains stand proudly in the background with their snow capped tops. Your eyes are glued to the lush landscape as the SUV drives through Boulder to reach your destination.

You, along with the rest of your team, were called by the Park Rangers from the Rocky Mountain National Park about a few bodies they had discovered. Your superior, Hotch, decided their case was odd enough for you all to pay a visit. At first you hadn't wanted to come, convinced that there would be something closer to home to tend to, but now you're glad you agreed to come. Fall time in Quantico just isn't as picturesque.

Eventually, the SUV you're crammed into alongside three of your other team members drives up a long winding driveway to a hidden cabin in the woods. Hotch had booked the place, seeing as how close it is to the National Park and how secluded it is from potential people of interest. Once again, you tried to argue that the cellphone reception would be terrible up here and that it might hinder the case, but you were outvoted, and the rest of the team wanted to stay here. You hadn't understood why, but when the venue comes into view your jaw almost drops and you understand.

The cabin isn't at all what you had been expecting. Instead of some run-down, small, stuffy house, you see a large, sprawling log mansion. There are large windows adorning the front, accompanied by a wraparound porch on the second level. It's very reminiscent of a tasteful ski lodge.

"Wow." You breathe out as the car comes to a stop outside the front door.

"Still think it's a bad idea?" Hotch smarts off as he opens the trunk and starts handing people their bags. Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you grab your bag from him and stare up at your home for the next few days.

The rest of the team wastes no time in going inside to claim their room, but you're happy to meander around for a little bit to familiarize yourself with the layout. You'll let them fight over the rooms and take whatever is left. After all, in a place of this size, even the smallest room is bound to be plentiful.

As you go through the halls admiring the artwork on the wall you spot Spencer doing the same, staring at a particular painting on the wall. You take just a second to appreciate the way he looks, standing there and analyzing art. You've always had an appreciation for Spencer, and not just for his good looks, but also his intelligence and his company.

Since your first day at the FBI you've felt drawn to him, he made you feel important, and heard, when others dismissed you. In fact, he's the reason you're on the BAU team in the first place. He was the only one to recognize your abilities and talents. You try not to hold a grudge about the fact the rest of the team was ready to let you transfer out after your internship. But instead of standing there and gawking at him like some braindead fool, you walk up to him, setting your bag on the floor beside your feet.

You look at the painting that's caught his attention and try to see what he does, try to think about how he interprets it. His mind is an amazing, complex thing, and you hope that one day you'll be able to understand just a small portion of it. It's a painting of the Great Rocky National Park, you can tell from the mountain formation and the river running through it. The painting is almost an identical match, as if it's actually a picture rather than painting. However, there's one small spot on the painting that looks like it's been painted over and over, it sticks out to you.

"What do you think happened there?" You point out the flaw and look up to Spencer, whose eyebrows are drawn closely together as he leans in and looks at the spot. After a few moments of quiet reflection, he stands back to his full height.

"I'm not sure. It looks like maybe the painter had difficulties finding the right shade." He says, still staring at the spot. Your eyes linger on his face before tearing them away before he catches on.

"You're probably right. I'm going to go find what room they left me." You say, grabbing your bag from beside you. Spencer bends over to pick up his as well,

"I should probably do the same." A small smile adorns his face, and the two of you begin walking through the cabin to find the empty rooms the team left you. According to the venue's website there should be one room for each agent, and you're thankful for that. You had never been a fan of sharing room with your coworkers, something about it just feels wrong, but when there's no way to avoid it you endure without much fuss.

The two of you check every room on the first floor only to find that they had all been claimed, meaning you two had to climb the stairs for rooms on the second level. Of course the rest of them would all claim the first floor rooms first, nobody likes to bother with stairs first thing in the morning.

You and Spencer find the empty rooms, side by side with direct access to the porch. You suppose there are worse rooms to have. Eager to step out onto the porch, you toss your bag on the bed and open the sliding door. Colorado's crisp air envelopes you as you step out and you take a deep breath. The air out here feels so clean and refreshing. Great Rocky National Park is directly in front of the porch, giving you an eagle's eye view of a portion of it as you lean onto the banister. Might as well enjoy a little bit of peace before you start working the case.

-----

"Three women were found in the same spot days apart from each other. All bludgeoned and stabbed through the heart." The Park Ranger speaks, indicating to the crime scene that's been barricaded with yellow tape. The Ranger stares at the scene, which is now an inconspicuous patch of dirt and grass, as if there weren't several dead women resting here. The scene is right beside a big body of crystal blue water.

You hang back from the rest of the team, opting to look at the surroundings instead of the immediate scene. The team knows now that finding the tiny details is your forte, and they leave you to your own devices in the beginning of investigations. The cold breeze causes you to hold your too-thin jacket closer to your body as you begin your observations.

"They were all found in the same spot?" Hotch asks the Ranger, who confirms that all of the victims were found in the exact same spot. As you examine the landscape, your eyes narrow in an attempt to find even the subtlest detail. Before too long, you see something out of place in the lush grass and walk over to it while pulling on a pair of gloves.

There's a pamphlet laying in the grass and upon further examination you see that it's been marked up like someone gave the traveler directions. Directions right to this spot. The killer lured at least one victim here. This trail is far off the beaten path, it's not marked by the Rangers. Only someone familiar with the area would know about it.

"Look at this." You call out to your team, and soon a few of them join your side to examine what you found. Spencer and Morgan look over your shoulder at the pamphlet, which is in better condition than you would've thought considering it was laying in grass beside a body of water.

"They're familiar with the area, they had this planned." Spencer speaks up and you nod your head, agreeing with him. Morgan holds out an evidence bag once he's done looking at it and you slip it inside, protecting it from any further damage. Morgan walks off with the pamphlet, leaving you and Spencer together, both deep in thought.

"What have you come up with so far?" You ask softly, curious to see if his theories line up with yours. Spencer shifts his weight and sighs, looking back to the crime scene.

"The killer is organized. They lured at least one victim right to this spot, and I'm assuming they did the same with the others. And they had to have brought the weapons with them. While there are branches to bludgeon people with, there's no evidence of anything nearby being cut down recently. If they used a natural object, it's likely they would've tried to blend it back in with nature." He explains and you nod your head along with what he's saying as you observe the scene and the scenery surrounding you.

"Unless they tossed the weapon into the water. They could have easily used a rock to bludgeon the victims." You counter his explanation. Spencer and you always did this with one another when forming theories. Not as to dissuade, or prove the other wrong, but to make your theories and explanations stronger. It's one of the qualities you most like about him. His eyes drift to the water.

"They could have. But they had to have brought the knife, there's no natural substitute that would leave that precise of a wound." He says, and you relent, agreeing with him.

"I want to question the Rangers, get their work schedules, and see the call logs. I also want to know where the victims were staying and if there's any camera footage of them in the welcome center." You shiver with a gust of wind and hold your arms tighter around your body as you walk off to gather the information you want.

Spencer decides to join you in going to the welcome center, claiming that in a huge national forest that none of us should be traveling alone. He has a good point, but you wouldn't have objected to his company either way. The Ranger from the scene escorts you two to the welcome center in his cruiser, the warm air letting your fingers regain their feeling.

"Who found the bodies?" You ask as you hold your hands in front of the vent emitting warm air. The Ranger looks at you through the rearview mirror before focusing on the road again.

"I found one and Birch found the others during his patrols." He answers and you mentally make a note to find Birch.

"Is that area regularly patrolled?" You push further for more information and the Ranger shakes his head.

"No, it wasn't, until I found the first girl. She had to have been out there for at least three days. After that I sent Birch out to keep an eye on the area. He found victim two a couple days after the first, and found the third a single day after the second." He says and you look to Spencer, both noting the decrease in time between kills. A sinking feeling in your stomach tells you that if you don't find the killer soon, then you may be finding a fourth victim any day now.

Once you reach the welcome center, the Rangers are more than happy to provide you with the security camera footage, work schedules, call logs, and anything else you may need. In fact, it's Ranger Birch that hands over the information himself. He's a young man, maybe mid twenties, with meticulously groomed hair and pressed uniform pants.

"Thank you." You tell him with a warm smile, taking the footage and other information off the counter and into your hands. He nods back with a wide, white-toothed smile and tells you and Spencer to come back if you need anything else. The moment you step out of the welcome center you give Spencer a pointed look with a raised eyebrow.

"What do you think?" He asks you before you can ask him. You lick your lips and glance back into the welcome center, Ranger Birch still looking at you. Your eyes find Spencer's and you motion for him to follow you.

"I think he takes pride in both his appearance and work, and he knows the park well." Hotch pulls up in a black SUV to pick you and Spencer up to return you to the cabin, where the entire team will discuss what's been found so far.

-----

The trip up to the cabin only takes about ten minutes. Your mind works to put pieces of the puzzle together the entire trip back, but there's just not enough known information yet, and it bothers you. You like to have answers quickly because the faster you get answers, the less people will die. Your leg bounces up and down the entire way back, eager to begin deciphering the evidence.

The SUV comes to a stop outside the cabin and before Hotch can turn the car off, you're out and making your way to the entrance. A man dressed in a casual flannel shirt hunched over the flowerbeds stops you in your tracks before you get to the front door. He wipes the dirt from his landscaping gloves onto his worn overalls as he greets you.

"Good afternoon ma'am, I hope you enjoy your stay here. I'm James, I do the landscaping work around here and a few other cabins nearby." He offers you a warm smile, which you try your best to return, but your anticipation is causing you to become short.

"Nice meeting you." You go to walk into the cabin, but James' voice stops you once more. Spencer and Hotch approach, engaged in a conversation likely pertaining to what happened at the welcome center.

"Wait, ma'am. I never caught your name." James smile is reminiscent of an old friend, and he looks at you expectedly. Against your best wishes, you answer him, not wanting to be unnecessarily rude to your host.

"We'll, it's been a pleasure to meet you. Maybe I'll catch you around before you head out. Are you here for work?" He continues his conversation as Spencer and Hotch walk into the cabin undeterred by the landscaper. Maybe if you had just slowed down one of them would've been caught instead. James' eyes linger on the items in your hands.

"Yeah, the whole team is here for work." You answer, shuffling some items around in your grasp. James nods his head and tears his gaze away from the items, the warm smile returning to his face.

"Must be some important work if a whole team is here. By the looks of you all I'd say you're some sort of police." He guesses, eyeing the firearm that's strapped to your thigh. Your eyes narrow at the man, and you nod.

"Yeah, something like that. I really have to get going, they're probably waiting for me in there. Have a nice night, James." You find your exit route out of the conversation with the friendly mannered landscaper. As you step through the door you hear his voice call out to you once more.

"If there's anything I can do to help, number's in the guestbook." The door closes, and the conversation finally ends.

Taking a cleansing breath, you join the rest of the team who are all gathered around the rectangular dining table, which has been designated as the investigation headquarters. On the table are a slew of files, photos, and papers. You add the information gathered from the welcome center to that collection and Hotch starts the conversation.

Hotch reviews the known information and circulates photos of the victims. They're all beautiful young women, and according to Garcia, were staying at nearby resorts and cabins for vacation. The photos get passed to you and you look at them intently, committing to memory every detail you can absorb before you pass them along. It's obvious that these victims were chosen because of their physical appearance, they all share the same basic features such as hair color, eye color, and stature. And eerily, you seem to match the profile as well.

"The physical appearance of the victim is important to the unsub. Having three victims with similar features is no mistake, nor is it a coincidence." You add to the conversation, seeing your team members look from you to the photos on the table.

"Maybe the victims represent someone who scorned the unsub? Extracting revenge through them." Spencer suggests, and it's a good theory. You chew on the skin of your bottom lip as your mind races with theories and trying to piece the information together like a puzzle.

After the general briefing, Hotch assigns Morgan and Prentiss to interview the Park Rangers to establish alibis, JJ and Garcia to continue conducting their online investigation, and Spencer and yourself to go over the welcome center footage. Hotch was going to speak to the people running the cabins the victims were staying at to see if there are any leads there.

You and Spencer are on the second hour of footage when your eyes start becoming heavy. Reaching for the remote, you pause the footage and stretch, needing to take a break.

"You want some coffee?" You ask him, needing something to keep yourself awake. He nods his head,

"Yes, please." You stand from your seat and go to the kitchen to prepare the two of you some coffee. You're sure to put an ungodly amount of sugar in Spencer's, knowing that if you don't you'll hear him complain about it. And most times you enjoy the sound of his voice, but you don't know if you can stand hours of CCTV footage and him complaining about a lack of sugar right now.

You return to the table and place his mug in front of him, steam rising from it. You sip your own and resume your position at the table and reach for the remote. Spencer reaches for it at the same time, your hands brushing one another's. His hand is warm and soft, perfect for the chilly autumn air.

"Sorry." You say, pulling your hand away and forcing any other thought than the footage from your mind, knowing that there's already a faint pink adorning your cheeks. No matter how long you've worked with him, even just simple touches is enough to send you spiraling if you let it. You try not to delve into what that might mean; you profile people for a living, the last thing you want to do is profile yourself. Without a word, Spencer just smiles back politely and presses play.

The footage rolls and you two identify the victims who all showed up unaccompanied, which you find odd considering they were on vacation with their families. Your hand jots down quick notes in sloppy handwriting as you critically examine what you do, and don't, see in the footage. Spencer and you replay the footage showing the victims easily five times each, both silently taking notes, knowing you're going to compare soon. After watching the third victim's footage for the last time, you look over to Spencer, who's face is illuminated by the golden glow of the setting sun.

"Do you want to go first?" He asks and you nod, trying not to stare at how the sunlight reflects the amber color in his warm prismatic eyes. You look down to your notes and try to get your thoughts straight before speaking.

"I noted that all three victims walked into the welcome center with a pamphlet already in hand. None of them took the ones provided by the park. They all showed up alone. I can only assume that the unsub gave them the pamphlets with instructions on how to find the scene. Only, I'm willing to bet it was framed as a good-intentioned suggestion. There's no way those women would have gone if they didn't trust the unsub to some degree." Your eyes glance from your horribly written notes up to Spencer, who's leaning on the table, clinging to every word you say. He hums in consideration before he speaks up.

"I would agree. And if the victims were all staying at tourist destinations, those pamphlets were likely already there. So now the question is whether or not the unsub talked to them at their cabins or before they walked into the welcome center." He says, and a lightbulb goes off in your mind.

"Wouldn't it make more sense for the unsub to speak to them at their cabins? I mean, if the unsub caught them in the parking lot there's a chance they might have their families with them. But if the unsub spoke to them at their cabins, the women might be persuaded to leave their families behind for some reason." You say, going with the logical deductions that pop into your mind. Spencer mulls over your words, his eyes narrowing, staring back at you in deep thought.

"You're right. The unsub likely works for the resorts. It would give them access to the victims and it wouldn't be weird for them to give suggestions to guests." He confirms what you thought and you look back to the screen, seeing the third victim frozen in time.

"We should let the team know." You say and Spencer nods. The two of you finish off your coffee and wait for the rest of the team to arrive. You're confident that the two of you have a solid lead on this case. You only hope you can find the unsub before there's a fourth victim.

-----

The sun sets on the scenic landscape and you lean against the banister of the wraparound porch. The rest of the team isn't back yet, and the last thing you want to do is stay inside when it's so beautiful out here. The snowcapped mountain in the distance gleams brilliantly, and it's almost blinding, but you can't look away. Sounds of water rushing and birds chirping fill the air and if you let your mind relax enough it's almost like you're not here to solve murders.

Your head rests atop of your arms on the railing and you breathe in the cool air. The breeze gently blows your hair around, sending a shiver up your spine. You had severely underestimated how cold it would be here, and as a result, you failed to pack adequately because you were basing your packing off of Virginia fall time temperatures, which are noticeably warmer.

The sliding door opens and you turn to see Spencer walking out of his room. He joins your side and leans forward on the railing, looking out at the breathtaking view. His curly brown hair gets blown into his face, and you have to stop yourself from reaching out and tucking it behind his ear. You're also enjoying the breathtaking view.

He looks at peace, which is not something you usually see in him. His mind works overtime almost twenty four hours a day, especially on cases. It has to be torturous sometimes, to never get a reprieve from your own thoughts; and that's something you know all too well. There are some nights where you can't sleep because gruesome memories from the job haunt you.

Noticing that you're staring at him, you turn your gaze back to the colorful trees. The two of you enjoy a moment of tranquility together, a rare moment in the fast-paced career you pursued. A bird flies by, and you can only imagine what that freedom feels like. Most times you feel like your job keeps you cemented in one place, always dealing with death and the most heinous monsters that reside in this world. You often forget just how beautiful and free life can be.

A particularly crisp breeze comes through and you visibly shiver, which Spencer notices. Without a word, he goes into his room and comes back moments later with the throw blanket that was folded at the bottom of the bed. It's burnt orange in color and is made of faux fur, warm and soothing. Spencer drapes it over your shoulders and you hold onto the ends, keeping it secure around you. If you could stay in this moment forever, you would.

Spencer stands so closely beside you that you feel his warmth coming through the blanket, and without much thought, or care, you lean into him just slightly. He makes no effort to move, and the two of you stay like that for what seems like an eternity. His warmth and his smell are so comforting and makes you feel safe. Deep down in your heart you know he makes you feel at home.

The two of you enjoy each other's company in a peaceful silence. There's never been the need to fill the silence with him, like there is the others. While you two are quite talkative in the team dynamic, when you find yourselves alone it's often relaxed with no expectations. You two talk when you want, or is needed, but when there's nothing to say you're more than happy to just be around him. And you hope he feels the same about you, and you think he does, but you're never brave enough to ask for fear of ruining whatever relationship it is that you two share.

Sighing, you cuddle yourself further into the blanket as the sun dips lower and lower, the golden hue turning orange. Spencer moves beside you, and you see his fingers twitch, like he was going to reach out for something but doesn't. Your head turns to look at him above you, and his head lowers, so that your eyes meet one another.

You had always known his eyes were beautiful, but up this close you can truly admire the depth of them. The golden hues remind you of the sunsets, the green in them is like the rich moss that adorns the sides of the rocks; or like the pine needles on the tall trees, and the brown is reminiscent of swirling espresso. Taken aback from his closeness and the heat creeping up your spine, your lips fall open and his eyes glance between them and your eyes. He's so close to you, your bodies practically pressed against one another. You feel yourself being drawn to him, like he has his own magnetic pull.

But whatever was about to happen is cut short by the rest of the team arriving back to the cabin. You and Spencer seem to come back to reality and step away from one another. Flustered, you unwrap the blanket from your shoulders and hand it back to him, already missing the warmth.

"Thank you." Your voice is soft and tender, and his hand brushes your own as he grabs the blanket from you.

"Of course." He smiles softly back, and the two of you part ways to join the rest of your team downstairs to catch up on the latest information. But you can barely pay attention to what is being said, for your mind is drowning with flashes of Spencer out on the porch.

-----

The next morning you wake up as the sun shines in through the windows, illuminating the room beautifully and warmly. Hotch had given everyone the night to mull over the information and said that the investigation will pick right back up in the morning. After you get dressed and ensure your service weapon is properly attached to the harness around your thigh, you make your way down the stairs for a morning cup of coffee. Morgan, Prentiss, and Hotch are already sat at the table, picking at some toast for breakfast as they get the sleep rid from their systems.

You make a cup for yourself and Spencer, knowing he will be up any moment now. As per usual, too much sugar gets put into his and then you pour your own. The warm drink calms your nerves and you close your eyes, trying to get your mind prepared for whatever the day may bring. You know there may very well be a fourth victim found soon and you need to be on the top of your game to find the unsub.

"Good morning." A raspy voice makes your eyes open, and you see Spencer walking into the kitchen, dressed in a button up and tie. It's quite casual for him, but you like it, it looks nice on him.

"Good morning, made yours right here." You say and nod over to the mug on the counter. He looks from you to the mug with a smile on his face.

"Thanks." He says, and the two of you stay in the kitchen, sipping on your coffee and waiting for Hotch to give everyone orders.

"Feeling good about today?" It's something you always ask when an investigation seems to be coming to a close. You think it sets a tone, an expectation that the team will succeed. Spencer sips his drink and nods,

"I feel good about today." He confirms, flashing his bright white smile.

Last night, after the team had arrived, Hotch had shown everyone the list of employees from the neighboring resorts and cabins and today the team will be interviewing those employees. You're convinced the unsub has to be on that list and you intend to find out who it is. The questions have already been sorted in your mind, though you're able to adapt to anyone's personality and are prepared to get answers.

"Same teams as yesterday, we're going to divide and conquer." Hotch says, handing each team a list of names. You look down at the list he handed you and see that there are a total of fifteen employees for the small resort that you and Spencer are covering. It catches your attention that seven of the fifteen are women, and you mentally place them lower on your suspect list. This doesn't seem like a crime women usually commit, no, this seems like the work of a man as evidenced by the brute force used.

Morgan and Prentiss take off in one car, Hotch takes another, leaving you and Spencer with your own SUV. The two of you gather your needed materials, such as photos and notepads, before you head out. Spencer grabs the keys and tells you that he's going to warm up the car as you finish organizing your things, and you're grateful for that. Sitting in a cold car doesn't really appeal to you right now.

Once you're content with the items you've chosen to bring along you head out of the cabin. The bright light almost blinds you, and you squint in order to see. From the corner of your eye you see something move, and when you turn to look you see it's the landscaper from the other day, already flagging you down. Resisting the strong urge to just ignore him, you wait for him to reach you on the porch steps. He looks like he's already been hard at work today, he's covered in dirt and sweat.

"Well good mornin'. Got anything interesting going on today?" He asks, shielding his eyes from the light with his gloved hand. You shift your weight and look to the running SUV, already planning your escape route out of this conversation.

"Uh, yeah, you could say it'll be an interesting day." You reply as politely as you can. James smiles widely at your response.

"What sort of thing you have planned?" He asks and you sigh, not wanting to be part of this conversation any longer.

"I'm not at liberty to say, but I've gotta go, my partner is waiting for me." You excuse yourself from the conversation before he can get another word in. From behind you, you hear him say.

"Well alright then, I'll be around if you need anything." As you slide into the driver's side of the car and hand your bag to Spencer, you see the man heading back to the tool shed.

"That's twice now that he's singled me out." You say, keeping your eye on him for a moment longer, watching his moves. The fact that you match the victim profile is not lost on you, and you think it might be making you just slightly paranoid.

"I noticed that too. Could be that you were the first one there the last time, and the last one out this time, but it's definitely something to keep note of." Spencer says as you drive off to the tiny resort the two of you had been assigned. You know he might be right, but the man went out of his way to flag you down this morning and completely ignored everyone else. An uneasy feeling in your stomach tells you that the landscaper should be looked into more thoroughly.

When you and Spencer reach the resort you waste no time in beginning your investigations. The two of you are laser focused on the task at hand, and agree to split the list equally. Spencer volunteered himself to question the extra person. Luckily, the front desk attendant was more than helpful and secured two rooms for the interviews to be conducted.

The first four interviews go by without incident, all front desk attendants and kitchen workers who have no indication of manipulative traits and answer your questions openly. You've done this enough times to spot exactly what you're looking for, you know what gets under the skin of unsubs, especially the organized ones who think they have it all figured out.

A couple other interviewees give you good information about the victim who stayed here. They tell you how they remember seeing her with her family in the hall, and how nothing seemed out of the ordinary in the room when it was cleaned. Hotch had questioned the families last night, and cleared them from the suspects list.

By the time you reach the end of your list, you know you can safely cross every one of them off. None of them responded to the misinformation you sprinkled in the questions, things the unsub would've been known to be untrue. And none of them had any sort of reaction to you insulting the intelligence of the unsub, something that would have surely set them off in some way. But to your dismay, none of them had any clue of who could be capable of this kind of malice. Typically, there's at least one person who's able to spot something weird about someone, but not this time.

You group back up with Spencer, the two of you comparing notes in the room he used for his questioning. He had the same results as you and you both were hoping someone else on the team was more successful.

"We got all of them except for James Hilton. The others said he bounces around to each place and some days he's not even here." Spencer says, pointing out the only uncrossed name from the list.

"James Hilton. That's the landscaper." You say, barely able to recall his name from yesterday. The uneasy feeling in your stomach grows.

-----

In the afternoon, the team reconvenes in the cabin around the table to compare findings. Every other agent was able to interview everyone but James Hilton. Granted, his job requires him to go from location to location, but it seems like he's been hanging out around this cabin often. However, he was nowhere to be found when everyone came back. But maybe he went to another location to work on their flowerbeds.

"We'll need to get his statement today. Anyone up to track him down?" Usually you volunteer to go after someone like this, but something is telling you not to, and you listen to your instincts. Thankfully Morgan offers to track him down, and Prentiss joins him once more. You pick at a piece of paper on the table as your mind works, mulling over what you know about the case and the overly-friendly landscaper.

Before Morgan and Prentiss leave, Spencer informs the team about the conversations that James has dragged you into. You tell them exactly what happened, and they all agree that it seems suspicious. Hotch goes off to make some calls to JJ and Garcia, leaving you and Spencer at the table.

"Hey, are you okay?" Spencer asks, leaning forward on the table. His voice snaps you out of your trance and you cease to fiddle with the paper.

"Me? Yeah I'm fine, why?" You ask, not sure why he's concerned. He looks conflicted, opening and closing his mouth a few times before he answers.

"Well, it's just that you fit the victim profile and the conversations with the landscaper seem to be suspicious. And you keep playing with the paper which is an indication of anxiety." He says, trying his best to not profile you in front of your face.

"Spencer, I'm okay, promise. I was just thinking." You tell him, and it's the truth. While James makes you feel uneasy, you're confident that nothing will happen to you. Spencer nods and you stand from the table, wanting to inspect the cabin with finer detail and stretch your legs.

After going from room to room looking for the tiniest thing that might be relevant to the case, you find yourself staring at the same photo that caught Spencer's eye when you all first arrived. There's something about it, something about the discolored spot, that you just can't let go of. It's bothering you for some reason. Frustrated, you take it off the wall and bring it to where Spencer is in the main living area, nose in a book. He looks up from the page when he hears you coming, his eyebrows scrunching closely together.

"What are you doing?" He asks, putting the book on a side table. You place the painting on the large coffee table and put your hands on your hips.

"There's something about this that's driving me insane." You say, eyes drifting from Spencer's face to the painting. It takes Spencer all of ten seconds to analyze the painting again.

"It's the same place the bodies were found." He says and your eyes widen, taking in the scene again and realizing he's right.

"Wait. If this is the same place the bodies were found, then that, is the exact spot they were in." You say, pointing to the discolored spot. The discoloration is where the grass meets the water, the mountain in the background. Your eyes drift to the bottom corner of the painting where you see a cursive 'J' painted in white.

"Do you think the killer is the one who painted this?" Spencer asks you, and you nod.

"I'm sure of it. There's a J painted in the corner. It has to be Hilton. Can you call Garcia?" You ask, mind feeling like it's running a marathon. Spencer doesn't hesitate to get Garcia on the phone.

"Hello my beautiful boy genius, what can I do for you today?" Penelope's voice sounds throughout the room and you smirk at her entertaining phone greeting.

"Hello my beautiful computer genius, can you do me a favor?" You speak first and you can hear her laugh through the phone.

"Oh my darling anything for you." Her voice is melodic and you shake your head at her antics. You love Garcia, she's one of your closest friends inside and outside of work.

"Can you find anything on a James Hilton from the Boulder, Colorado area?" You ask her, knowing your answer is about to be served on a silver platter in just a few moments. Garcia's quick typing echoes through the phone.

"James Hilton, born and raised in Boulder. Has been working as a property manager for the last ten years at the property you all are staying at. Has one traffic record from the nineties, but other than that he's clean." She says, but you were hoping for something more incriminating.

"Anything about a wife, or a girlfriend? Maybe even a sister or mother?" You ask her, staring down a the painting.

"It looks like he was in a long term relationship with Valerie Wilson, also of Boulder. But according to her Facebook page, they are over with." She says, Spencer and you looking at each other, knowing you may have just found a potential piece of the puzzle.

"Perfect. Can you tell me what she looks like and how to contact her?" You ask and write down the details Garcia recites. After you get the needed information, Spencer hangs up and calls Hotch to inform him of what the two of you just found out. Hotch tells us that he's on his way back to the cabin after he's done with the last interview.

The painting lays in front of you two, and you take a seat on the arm of the chair Spencer is sitting in, your leg brushing up against his and your arm resting behind his head to keep yourself stable. Your eyes are glued to the discoloration, and you know there's just something about it that's more than just not being able to find the right shade.

"Is there a way to see if something has been painted over?" You ask Spencer rather than Googling it, knowing he can probably get you an answer faster. He clears his throat and nods his head.

"A few years ago it was found that Vincent Van Gogh painted over several of his works due to the cost of canvas. Experts used x-ray to see through the layers, revealing the original painting." His answer is exactly what you were looking for.

"We have to get this thing x-rayed. And someone needs to contact Valerie and ask her about her relationship with James. His tool shed should be examined as well" You jump off the chair's arm, ready to leave immediately, but having to wait for Hotch before you can proceed with anything else.

-----

Hours later, your leg is bouncing up and down, eagerly awaiting the results of the x-ray. The hospital staff had never encountered something quite like this, but you were thankful that they were cooperative. Spencer had come along with you while Hotch stayed back to get in contact with Valerie. You check your phone every ten seconds to see if you have a new message for him, but your screen is blank.

Thankfully, a few minutes later an x-ray technician comes out and beckons you to a dark room where she clips the x-ray images onto a lightboard. While the images aren't in color, you can still see exactly what you need to. The images show that where the discoloration is, there used to be a woman standing and a man on one knee. A gasp leaves your mouth, the pieces finally fitting together in your mind. Without a doubt, James is the unsub.

Spencer and you race back to the cabin and spill the findings to the rest of the team. Hotch informs you that Valerie had confirmed that James recently proposed, but she turned him down. All of the victims match her appearance. He must have been killing to fulfill some sort of revenge he felt was necessary.

The team calls each of the resorts that James is employed at only to find that he's not at any of them. While the others scramble to try and find a way to find him, your eyes land on the guestbook.

"Guys. I can call him. He told me his number is in the guestbook and we know I fit the profile. He won't be able to help himself." You say, and the others don't have any good reason as to why you shouldn't do it. Your hands shake from the adrenaline as you dial the numbers and the phone rings, your heartbeat resounding in your ears. You're so close to catching this depraved man.

"Hello?" He answers finally. You let go of a breath you weren't aware you were holding and speak up.

"Hi James, you told me to call you if I needed help with anything. And, um, I think I might have broken one of the outside lights." You quickly come up with a lie, hoping to lure him out here for the arrest. You hear him moving around on the other end and the start of an engine.

"Of course, I'll be there in just a moment, honey." He says and you hang up the phone, trying not to gag from his pet name.

It takes James all of fifteen minutes to reach the cabin. When he pulls up, the entire team is waiting for him, but you were the one with cuffs in your hands. As soon as his feet hit the ground, Hotch and Morgan were out the door ordering him to the ground. With smug satisfaction, you step over the man and secure his hands in cuffs behind his back.

As the local police show up to take him away, he's spitting every expletive in the book at you. Rage and hatred show themselves very clearly on his face, and you see who he really is. You smile sickly sweet at him as he's shoved into the back of the cop car. Another monster off the street, unable to do harm to another woman. It's like a weight gets lifted from your shoulders.

-----

After the excitement of the arrest, you come down off your adrenaline rush. The rest of the team are packing, getting ready to leave in the morning, but you can't find it within yourself to do it. You're too struck by the beauty in front of you to worry about going back home. You just don't want to part with this yet. So you find yourself out on the wraparound porch once more, the sun retreating far too quickly behind the horizon for your liking.

Despite the waning sun, the landscape looks brighter, more vibrant now that you know that the killer is in custody. Usually, the team gets only a few hours of celebration before you're saddled with paperwork and the next case. A bird flies past again, and you appreciate its freedom again. Its sweet melodies carry in the breeze and soothes your weary soul.

You love your job, you can't imagine doing anything else, but it does wear on you. Both physically and mentally. Before you had started working with the team, you never could have imagined the kind of evil lurking everywhere, even in a place as gorgeous as this. But now, it's like wherever you look, no matter how beautiful the surroundings, you can always spot something amiss. You feel weighted by the knowledge of what reality actually is.

The familiar sound of the sliding door catches your attention, and you see Spencer coming towards you, blanket in hand. A smile finds its way onto your face as he closes the distance between you, securing the blanket around your shoulders. Just like yesterday, he stands right beside you, admiring the view.

"The others are all leaving tonight, they said they want to get a headstart on the papers. But I told them we'd go back in the morning." His voice is raspy, yet soft.

"But what about the plane?" You ask, eyebrows knitting together. He shrugs his shoulders and looks down at you.

"I told them we'd fly back in the morning, already have the tickets arranged." He says, easing some of your anxiousness, but not satisfying your curiosity.

"Why?" You search for the answer on his face.

"Because I saw how much you like it here. You deserve one workless night." He says with sincerity and your heart swells at the sentiment. You fully turn towards him, soft blanket draped lightly across your shoulders. You notice that Spencer has traded his button up for a simple pullover. Something so simple has never looked so good before.

"Thank you, you really didn't have to-" He cuts you off with a smile,

"I know, but I wanted to." He admits, pink coloring his cheeks. You stare up at him in awe, not quite sure what you did to deserve his thoughtfulness. Not being able to hold back your affections, you reach out and engulf him in a hug.

"Thank you, Spencer." You reiterate into his chest, feeling his arms wrap around you. After a few fleeting, precious moments, you let go of him. Staring up into his eyes, you reach a hand up and stroke the soft skin of his cheekbone with your thumb. He doesn't flinch from your touch like he does with others, no, he leans into it as if he's savoring the feeling.

His arm that was around your waist come up to cup your cheek, and he gently brings your face towards his, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. You hold him close, a flurry of warmth spreading from your face down to your body. His other hand finds its way around your waist, securing you to his body.

You break the kiss as your chest begins burning with the need of oxygen, and he rests his forehead against yours. Your hands come up to gently grasp the sides of his face, keeping him in place so that you can admire his beauty. After minutes pass by in silence as you two appreciate each other, Spencer tilts his head up and kisses your forehead.

He turns you around so that you're facing away from him, and he grabs the blanket from around your shoulders. Seconds later, you feel him standing behind you, wrapping the soft blanket around the both of you. His chest is behind you, and he hands you the edges of the blanket so that his hands might find the soft curve of your waist. Spencer pulls you in to him so that you're leaning back on his chest.

Spencer rests his head atop of yours as the two of you relax your minds and bodies, focusing solely on each other and the scene in front of you. Your hands come down to entwine themselves with his with a soft smile on your face.

A lone tear falls from the corner of your eye as you're overcome with emotion. You cannot recall a single time in your life that you've felt this serene, where everything just feels perfect. Your soul is well nourished and full from Spencer alone. All of those cases you worked together, the stolen glances across the office, the simple acts of kindness and thoughtfulness for each other has culminated to this one precious moment in time; and you've never felt more content.

The sun eventually sets behind the horizon, the chilly breeze billowing the blanket around you both. Above you in the sky, the stars shine brightly, and you tip your head back to admire them. You can never admire their true beauty in Quantico, their shine is dulled by light pollution, but you can see them clearly here. You can see everything clearly here.

"You know, scientists estimate that there are about two hundred sextillion stars in the sky within the Milky Way." Spencer whispers in your ear as you two bask in their soft white light. You turn around in his hold and smile up at him,

"And yet none shine as brilliantly or as beautifully as you." You say, and pull him in for another soft, heartfelt kiss. As you pull away, you watch as his eyes flutter open and he smiles endearingly. You've never seen such a beautiful sight, never felt comfort as warm as him, and you know as you lean into his embrace, that you will not bear the weight of this world or this life alone.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #emily prentiss #derek morgan #aaron hotchner #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #hozier #spencer reid x you #Spotify #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds x reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid comfort

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zhongrin · 2 years

Text

kangen

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, al haitham, xiao, kazuha

◇ tags ◇ cotton candy fluff

◇ a/n ◇ i'm naming my fics with indonesian words bc i can s h u s h

◇ note ◇ in english, "kangen" means "miss", as in "i miss you"

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

as we all know, zhongli has a good grasp of his emotions. he’s used to waiting and observing and reigning his wants, so even if he does miss you, he tries to restrain himself from making it your problem.

this doesn't mean that he won’t subconsciously seek you out, however. it’s very subtle, but if you know what to look for, you’ll notice that he’s actively making an effort to insert himself into your mind one way or another, even if he doesn't seem to be aware that his actions are betraying his thoughts.

one forehead kiss in the morning becomes two. him appearing to pick you up from work five minutes earlier than usual. the way he eagerly offers his arm instead of waiting for you to reach out to him. a sweeter undertone in his voice accompanied by an equally sweeter nickname. indeed, he doesn’t realize he’s doing some of these things, but if you do point them out and tease him about it, he’ll smile sheepishly and you might even catch a glimpse of color rising up his ears.

“ah… how unbecoming of me. it was not my intention to act so wantonly. i hope i didn’t make you uncomfortable, dear.”

it’s very rare for al haitham to come to seek you out first, but when he does, you know it’s been a while since you’ve adequately spent time with each other. that, or he just feels particularly needy - perhaps from a frustrating concept he couldn’t seem to grasp, or a mission had gone awry. when things aren't going as planned and when he just needs to have someone to cling to, he will crave your comfort the most.

he’ll patiently hover over you as you do your tasks. cooking? expect him to ask what he could help with, and even if you don’t need any real help, he’s more than happy to just watch over the pot so it won’t boil over, or even become your taste tester. cleaning? you can take the broom and he’ll take the mop. working on your papers? the chair looks very uncomfortable, wouldn't having him as your lap pillow would be better than the hard cushions? plus, he can double as your essay checker too. how convenient, surely you won’t refuse?

no, he’s most certainly not being needy, what nonsense are you spouting about now? just shush and let him hug you close like this.

you might think xiao can go without your presence for a whole month with no difficulties whatsoever, but you couldn’t be more wrong. xiao craves your presence like a withered qingxin wish for rainfall. he’s just good at pretending that he’s above such desires.

and even though he is a patient soul compared to most, just like how fallen snow on dragonspine will eventually pile up on untracked paths, there’s only so much the yaksha can take before he starts to unconsciously seek you out. the corner of his eyes twitches when his ears pick up the sound of your voice in the wind. the frown settling between his brows deepening when more hours pass without you calling his name…

“xiao?”

he’s there before the last syllable finishes forming on your tongue and your lips are still apart. with his signature scowl on his face and his toned arms crossed across his chest, he gives you a glare and a very minuscule pout. there is no hesitation in his movements when you grin and invite him for a hug.

“took you long enough."

kazuha is accustomed to yearning and longing - loneliness is something he deals with daily. he misses his dear father, his friend tomo and the others he’s left, his home country where the lighting shines eternal, the stray cats he used to feed at the back alley of his residence….

but those experiences don’t make it easier to deal with his emotion when it comes to missing you. ironic, really. he would have thought having you nearby would be enough, would make him less needy, but in fact, it’s proven to be the opposite. it’s so hard to not stare in longing when you’re so near yet so out of reach. he wants to respect your space, your freedom, as you do your day-to-day chores. he truly does…

he watches in shock and horror when beidou slaps your back and whispers something to you while pointing directly toward him. when you turn to face your boyfriend, he struggles to keep his expression neutral and manages a sheepish smile as you approach him with a teasing glint in your eyes.

“soooo…. heard from beidou that someone’s been pining on me….”

“mmm… nothing escapes anego’s keen eyes. would you let me... accompany you, just for a bit? i have to admit… i have been missing your presence, my songbird.”

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #rin writes #zhongli #zhongli x reader #xiao #xiao x reader #kazuha #kaedehara kazuha #kazuha x reader #al haitham #al haitham x reader

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eletricheart · 6 months

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hello :) I'm here to request to request donnaxdaughter!fem!reader

I really want to see what Donna would be like as a mother figure. Maybe a new girl, age 15-16 moves into the village. She hearrs all the rumors and warnings of the beneviento manor, but she ignores them, because she doesn't want to judge the place before she sees it for herself. She prepares a basket of pastries and cookies she makes herself and goes over to Donna's house and knocks on the door. Donna is shocked because no one ever comes to her manner, especially not with good intentions. The girl is so sweet, so innocent, so pure, kind, and full of fun Donna has been so lonely, so she invites the girl inside. The girl asks Donna to spend the afternoon making paper dolls and other crafts with her. A few months later the girl has been coming by more and more often, and now Donna sees the girl as a complete daughter figure.

Thank you!

Home is wherever i'm with you

(Donna Beneviento x daughter!fem!reader)

*creds to owner of the pic

Word count: 1507

ps: not proofread, im sorry for any mistakes pls lmk😭

ps2: for me this was very different from everything i write, i hope you like it🫶

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Ever since you were ten years old, your parents would teach you about the importance of not only kindness but also charity work. Therefore, it was no wonder that now at sixteen you would feel a certain compassion towards the secluded Lady Beneviento.

It was nearing Christmas eve, your parents were nowhere to be seen (as always). You didn't blame them, they had jobs and responsibilities, you just weren't a priority.

So…you made a choice. You knew the Lady was usually alone, and you hated being alone. That's why you prepared a basket filled with baked goods and set course to her House.

There weren't many people around the streets, winter was particularly harsh this year but you wouldn't back down. Thankfully, no lycans appeared on the way, you definitely weren't ready for them.

The village didn't have much information on the Beneviento territory, so running into a grave was an unpleasant surprise since you didn't bring any flowers. However, you were walking with a map, which you turned into a paper flower and left it at the grave. It was dangerous walking without a map, but it’d be disrespectful to not leave something.

After this moment a strange feeling came at you, as if you were being followed. Of course you looked behind you many times and you never saw someone, so you shook it off.

The path was easy, perhaps the villagers were lying or simply too scared.

Once you reached the garden, a sense of peace overcame you, the freezing snow was momentarily forgotten as you stood near the House breathing the cold air.

Donna thought you were lost, she wanted to scare you off so you’d go back home. But you were just a kid, what if she frightened you too much, or you got hurt, she couldn't hurt you. So she just followed you, maybe you were dared to spend some time in her territory, it happened too many times.

She could see you from the window, standing in her garden, the Lady wondered if you were insane, a shame at such a young age.

When the cold started to get to you again, you moved towards the door, maneuvering the basket so you could knock on the door.

Unfortunately, mid shock Donna forgot to check on Angie, who ran at the door to greet you.

The doll floated straight at your face, staring at your wide eyes. “HI!”

Your mind was running close enough to have smoke coming out of your ears. All you could think was how cool must it be to have a talking doll. So you opened a big smile and giggled. “Hi! Are you floating on your own?”

Angie nodded ferociously. “Damn right I am.”

You were about to talk back when you heard a whispered Angie and the doll excused herself into the house.

And that's when Donna showed herself to you, she expected you to run away when Angie opened the door, it was a nice surprise. “Can I help you?”

You nodded, slightly embarrassed that you didn't have a proper reason. “I wanted to bring you this.” You said, showing the basket. “Christmas is coming and…I heard you lived alone…So there was no one to give you a present. I…um…came to give you a present. I know it's not much, sorry.”

Donna smiled behind the veil, you were so adorable, so innocent…you shouldn't be here. “Your parents must be worried.”

You shrugged. “It’ll take them a few days to notice I’m gone.”

The Lady tilted her head in a silent question.

“Oh you know…they have jobs and stuff…can’t always be around, there are more important things to do, that's all.” You smiled, slightly sad.

Donna was becoming righteously angry, how could they not pay attention to their own daughter, how could they not value their own child.

The woman had to take a deep breath before talking again, being even more alert towards her flowers so they wouldn't answer her emotions. “Do you wish to come in? I believe there's more than I can eat in that basket.”

Your eyes brightened at this. “Yeah! I-I mean, sure, my Lady.”

Donna laughed at this and motioned for you to follow her into the kitchen. “You can call me Donna.”

You mostly ate in silence, Angie would occasionally almost break something but Donna usually stopped her before it happened.

When it was time for you to leave, Angie attached to your leg, staying long enough for a storm to form, therefore…you stayed.

Donna was leading you to your temporary room and Angie was calling every doll in the house for a sleepover party.

The Lady sighed at that. “I apologize for her, it’s been a while since anyone has visited.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Why? You’re all so nice.”

Donna fidgeted with her fingers, wondering if she should tell you the truth, what if you hated her too. “No one likes our…games.”

You nodded. “Well, I love games. What kind of game do you like?”

The dollmaker stopped in her tracks and turned to you. “Angie likes hide and seek. I-I like crafting more.”

You smiled brightly at her. “You can build stuff?! Please teach me, pleeease.” You asked, making your best sad face.

Donna laughed and shook her head. “I suppose we can make some dolls until it’s bedtime.”

You nodded so fast it got close to a whiplash.

To say that the next day was upsetting was an understatement. Angie had begged for you to stay for at least half an hour before Donna took her to another room.

The dollmaker was distraught once you left, she knew you weren't her daughter, but your parents sounded so…bad. She would be helping you if you stayed, the outside was too dangerous for someone as kind as you.

But she couldn't kidnap you, what if you hated her for it, what if she made you forget, no she would know you weren't yourself.

That was Donna’s head throughout the entire Christmas eve. The other dolls tried to cheer up the woman but it was useless. The dollmaker would just lay on her couch, waiting for you to come back, heavily considering kidnapping.

However you did come back, sooner than she expected. It was close to midnight when you knocked on her door, she was ready for you, of course she was. You were covered head to toe due to the snow, slightly shivering.

Donna quickly rushed you inside, leaving the dolls to prepare some hot chocolate while she covered you in blankets on the couch.

You were tired, your parents didn't show, only called to say they wouldn't make it for Christmas. You didn't want to be alone.

The dollmaker was concerned over your health, and angry over your parents. But she put it all aside for you. “Do you want to make some cookies? I heard it’s tradition.”

You nodded weakly and followed her to the kitchen, quickly noticing the absence of the little troublemaker. You gently tapped Donna’s shoulder. “Where’s Angie?”

“In her room, I didn't want you to be overwhelmed.”

You pursed your lips and shook your head. “I like it when she’s here.”

Donna nodded and soon enough you heard rushed little steps towards the room.

That was the first time you wished they were your family.

The second time was during Spring, you and Angie were playing tag in the garden, the snow had just started to melt still leaving some ice. The exact moment you slipped, Donna ran to you, thankfully it was only a scraped knee, you were quick to brush it off but the Lady insisted on treating it. She was terrified, but you held her hand the entire time.

The third time was another type of slip. You were trying to make an Italian dish but lightly burned your thumb. You knew Donna wouldn't allow you to touch the oven if she found out and you also knew that Angie was a huge snitch.

Hence you sitting on a stool and Donna bandaging your finger.

This time the Lady wasn't so scared, it took her less than a week after the first incident to notice you were very accident prone. “I’ll finish the dish and you can wait here.”

You were quick to complain. “But it doesn't even hurt, if Angie wasn't a snitch you wouldn't even know.”

Angie, who was attempting to steal cookies from the cabinet, quickly said “Hey!” before returning to her personal mission.

Donna sighed and shook her head. “I said no.”

You pouted. “But mo-Donna.” You froze mid-sentence, blushing furiously.

The dollmaker also froze, happily screaming internally. The woman just smiled at you. “You can help by handing me the ingredients.”

You nodded quickly.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

You spent most of your teenage years at Donna’s house, considering her more your mother than your biological one. The moment you turned eighteen you moved in with her, of course you still checked in with your parents, but Donna was and always will be your family.

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requests are open: masterlist

#re8 #resident evil village #resident evil #non canon #donna beneviento #fanfic #donna beneviento x reader #lady beneviento #donna beneviento x female reader #donna beneviento x daughter!fem!reader #lady beneviento x reader #lady angie #donna beneviento x daughter!reader #re8 donna

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userholland · 1 year

Text

snowed in hell

you didn't think a weekend with your boss could get worse... actually, it does once you're snowed in with him and away from home. you thought he was the worse, but there is something beneath his cold exterior that's very passionate and romantic and you're curious if you can explore that.

PAIRING: ceo!tom holland x assistant/secretary!reader

GENRE: smut 18+ minors dni!, pwp, enemies to lovers (?), secret crushes, lots and lots of longing and pining, dom!tom + dom!reader

WORD COUNT: 3.2k [the longest one so far lol]

A/N: merry christmas eve/happy holidays! sexy present here lmao. i haven't written smut in a while so apologies in advance but i thought id just throw one in there. honestly may post more on my smut sideblog now that i have a bit more time to write! let me know if this series has been great for you guys :D

𑁍 masterlist 𑁍

"A weekend away didn't seem like a bad idea"... is what you should be thinking. The winter wonderland that was this beautiful snowfall was all nice and cheery until you're going with your boss for one of his many conferences before the holiday season can start.

Now, Tom Holland wasn't bad looking, but once his egotistical comments spouted out of his mouth, you were able to snap back into reality. Not only could he sound like the most out-of-touch guy, but he flaunted how successful he was on-top of his looks.

So when he invited you－ no, expect you－ to come to this conference, it was a bit of a disappointment when you thought that it would be your one weekend of not doing anything that revolved around him. Now it was all about him... as per usual.

Carefully driving to the five-star hotel, all he did was talk about his own expectations and try to figure out what to say at the big dinner they were holding before tomorrow's conference. All you could do was make mental notes since you were driving and he was checking himself in the mirror in the backseat.

Luckily, you had adjoined rooms so there was some separation between your lives these next two days. While he was working in his room, you hoped to go on the slopes and enjoy breakfast on the nice outside deck while reading a book. Maybe even meet someone like in some cheesy romance movie.

"No, no, we have the charity ball on the 5th. The opening of the library the week after." Tom sighed, "Yes, yes, darling, I'm aware of that, but we can move all those dates... Trust me, I know Mr. Morales isn't with his wife on Tuesdays and Thursdays..." He continued, his left eyebrow arched.

You could roll your eyes, but all you did was take a deep breath.

"Well, I checked in the mirror and I can say that today is gonna be a great day." He smirked.

Oh, God. You needed this thirty remaining minutes to turn into thirty seconds.

"Y/N, slow down a bit. We're in no rush." Tom signaled his hand, looking through the front windshield.

"Yes, sir." You grinned, fixing your posture as you eased your foot off the gas pedal.

♡ ♡ ♡

You're relieved once you're checked into your room, knowing there was one wall between you and Tom. When you lay on your bed, basically hoping into the soft mattress, you let out a huge sigh of relief.

After a few minutes of hearing Tom's muffled voice through the wall, it was silent. You fix your skirt and button up before knocking on the door until Tom said you could come in.

When you step in, you see Tom standing in front of the full-body mirror by the window. As much as you wanted to complain, he did look good in a dark suit. You saw him adjust his sleeves under his jacket, but his tie was crooked.

"Here, I let me fix your tie." You trailed as you walked over.

You leaned into your heels, pulling the tie a bit down before pulling it perfectly where the top button of his shirt was. His brown eyes glossed over as he watched you, admiring how the orange light from the sunset laying against your face.

When you lifted your head, you saw his eyes, but you two could just produce awkward laughs. When you were hired, all your friends envied that you worked for someone as handsome and suave as Tom, and so were you. It was his huge ego that got in the way. Then, there were moments like this where that small crush bloomed back up.

Tom couldn't disagree that there weren't some feelings in the beginning as well. Workplace relationships were frowned upon, and already keeping his father's company afloat, there was no need to try to impress you. He would rather fight off those feelings then see where it goes.

"Thank you, Y/N." He said before clearing his throat.

"Of course, sir." You grinned.

"You don't have to always call me that. It's Tom, darling."

"I know." You quickly said, but you felt heat on your cheeks.

"Well, we need to get down there." He quickly gathered himself before the two of you left your rooms.

When you entered the elevator, it was just the two of you. There wasn't much said but it stopped on the floor below, a few people filed in and you felt Tom place his hand on your lower back as you took a few steps back.

You leaned next to him, placing your hand on his chest. Tom's heart hadn't beat so fast in a while, but in that moment, he thought everyone in the small space could hear it.

"Sorry, sir." You said, pulling your hand back and then tucking your hair behind your ear.

"You don't have to apologize, darling."

Your eyes fixated longer on him before the doors opened, and he walked out with the others.

Quickly, you followed him before he was practically mobbed by his peers, asking all these questions and statements while you stood behind his back. A few times he'd look over his shoulder to make sure you were close, and you would show him a small smile.

Time got away as he loved to talk business before timidly tapped his shoulder and he turned his attention toward you.

"Sir, the conference starts in five minutes."

He chuckled, "Oh, I have to go but nice seeing you guys. Let's catch up this weekend." Tom smiled at the few men.

As the two of you walked away, Tom's smile fell and his hands played with the first button of his suit jacket.

"What happened?" You asked, trying to keep up with his fast pace.

"Just because I have the money to finance their plans doesn't mean I can. I'm not..." He trailed, "Well, I'm not some dream maker. Let's put it at that."

"Sorry about that, sir." You cleared your throat.

"Remember what we spoke about?" He asked, turning to you.

"Tom... I meant Tom." You trailed, giving a half-smile.

He actually smiled back, something you rarely saw but the two of you continued to the hall, taking your seats before a long meeting.

♡ ♡ ♡

After an hour and a half, you and Tom went to the bar as per his request. Instead of sitting at the stools, you were sat at a table and you weren't use to spending a dinner with him. When the waiter came by, you were going to order for the two of you until Tom spoke first.

"One glass of scotch neat and a gin and tonic, light on the tonic." He said, impressing you.

"You remembered?" You asked, sounding like an old friend.

"Of course. It's not always your job to do that." He grinned.

Once you got your drinks, you cheers to the night and a successful start to the weekend. You almost wanted to toast to Tom not getting on your last nerve, but a man came by with 'manager' written under his name on his tag.

"Excuse me, but we just wanted to tell you that there is a harsh snowstorm right now. There may be some bad cell service and the roads are completely covered so, I would advise you not to go out tonight if you were planning to leave."

"Thank you for telling us." Tom nodded.

"We can send anything complimentary to your room if needed, Mr. Holland." He reassured him before leaving.

"Wow, so you're not new around here." You joked a bit and wondered if it was okay.

"Yeah, I've come here a few times. With my dad before I took over the business. Anything you need, on me."

You nodded, taking a sip of your drink, and then the rest of the hour was getting to know one another. He got to know you better than when you were first interviewed, but now that he was relaxed, Tom got to know you better than the side he aggressively showed in the office.

He had been meaning to sit down with you for a long time, wondering if there was any chance he would, but he thought about his reputation too much. He knew it could be a mood-killer sometimes, but there was a lot to hold yet being with you right there made him forget all of that.

There was an unspoken tension at the table and neither of you two wanted to address it... but there was still enough time in the weekend.

♡ ♡ ♡

That night, you weren't sure how to feel. You wondered if there was actually anything you felt romantically toward Tom. You paced the room a few times and ended up staring into the night sky through your deck.

Once you tried to focus on the silence of the room, you could hear the muffled TV noises coming through the wall that shared your rooms. You took a few deep breaths as you approach the door, talking yourself through this in your head.

You knocked, "May I come in?"

"Yeah!" Tom shouted.

When you entered his room, the beginning of the movie Charade starring Audrey Hepburn was on, oddly fitting with the location you were staying at. Tom walked from the bathroom, his tie loosen and his shoes off. He seemed more relaxed than you did, but he probably wasn't wondering what was coming of this in your mind.

"Hi... I uh, I just heard the TV and thought I would um... I uh, come over." You said, knowing how awkward and childish it sounded.

"Yeah, just an old movie. I was practicing my speech for tomorrow's conference." He said, gently pulling off his cuff links.

You hummed, standing there and your knees suddenly felt weak.

Tom took a second look at you, "Is everything okay?"

Butterflies swarmed inside your stomach, fuzzy feelings exploding and all you could do was slowly walk over to him. He sensed what move you could make, but Tom stood tall and strong, able to easily do it.

"Y/N, look at me." He softly commanded.

Your eyes met, and all you could hear was the TV in the background and the sound of your heart beating in your ears. Just as you took a step closer, he placed his hand on your soft cheek. Soon, your lips met in the middle for a spontaneous kiss that tasted heavenly.

As your tongue pressed against his, practically melting at how soft his was, his firm hands began to unbutton your top before he pulled away from the kiss.

"Is this okay?" He practically whispered.

You hummed, "Yes. Yes, keep going."

Just like that, he contiuned pulling apart the buttons one by one as your noses brushed against one another's and you could barely take the tension.

Once you undid the last button, you let your shirt fall near your feet. Standing there in your silk white bra and skirt, you slowly pushed him toward the bed until he sat down. His eyes trailed your body as you stood only a few feet away and your hands met the back of your skirt.

He watched you slowly peel down the zipper, the fabric pulling from your body before it fell to the ground as well. Tom's mouth gapped a bit, seeing your stockings were attached to a white garter belt and the matching lacey, white panties beneath them.

Tom was loss for words, the dim lights not doing any justice for your body. He leaned up as you walked toward him, and his hands immediately met your hips. He slowly pressed his lips against your lower abdomen, giving you butterlies as he continued to tease.

As you watched him carefully place his wet kisses, your hand met his soft curls and carded through them each time he got lower. He used his teeth to pull at the top of your panties, letting the fabric lightly slap your skin.

"You look like an angel, you know that?" He muttered.

You wanted to nod, but he ran his hand up your inner thigh before meeting your clothed slit. He smirked as he massaged the wet spot on the center of your panties. Your swollen clit ached, trying not to let your knees get weak as you still stood infront of him.

Your hands met his shoulders, and your fingernails lightly grazed his freckled skin. He kept moving his two fingers ever so slowly as he left a small love bite on your hip.

"I bet you want me to fuck you senseless, yes?" He groaned, "Until you can't even say words... just my name."

A small moan left your throat as he switched to his thumb rubbing on your clit. You gulped, wanting him to pull them off already but instead he brought you down to your knees.

"Not before you prove to me you're a good girl who deserves to be fucked so good." Tom nodded, holding his eye contact with you.

At first you wanted to pout, but you also wanted to show him that you were no force to be reckon with either. He thought he had the control and you were going to change that.

"Yes, sir." You trailed, giving a new meaning to the respect addressing he always told you not to use.

After unbuckling his belt, you threw it to the side before unzipping his pants. His cock pressed against his briefs, bigger than you expected. You tossed his pants along with his belt before your hand moved against his hard that stayed below the soft fabric.

Your fingers pulled each side of the band of his briefs, watching his cock spring up and all felt was your face feeling hot. He carefully watched your hand perfectly grip his base, pumping his hard slowly as your tongue ran over his red tip.

"Fucking christ, fuck." He groaned, using his weight to push up on his elbows as he laid back on the bed.

He expected you to be fast, but the slowness of your pace was killing him. Your hand moved up and down, your spit lubricating his base and your mouth wrapped around his tip.

"Don't fucking tease me all night, darling." He lowly growled, his hand moving through your hair to keep it from your face. He wanted to watch every second of his cock in your sweet mouth.

As your hands pushed against both his thighs, you felt his cock grow harder as his tip pressed against the back of your throat. You couldn't see Tom, but heard his moans he was obviously trying to hold back.

"No teeth, darling. Open your mouth wider... fucking. Yeah, fucking feels good." He practically panted.

Before he felt himself on the edge, you pulled away and all he could hear was his own heart beating. He didn't question fast enough, and you were already on your feet before straddling him.

"You had your fun, now you're gonna show me why you deserve to fuck me." You giggled, half-smiling then pressed your lips against his. He liked this side of you.

Tom rolled the two of you over, the cool sheets against your back. He parted your legs as he trailed wet kisses over your bra, down your stomach then over your panties. You tilted your head watching him unclip your stockings from your belt, then pulling your panties to the side.

He propped your left leg over his shoulder before placing a kiss on your clit, so swollen and wet. His tongue perfect stoked below your clit and right above your slit, just the place to make your whole body squirm. Tom continued to flick his tongue right at your sweet spot, holding down your hips as they tried to move.

A trail of quiet moans left your lips, completely in awe of how he took his time. Just as your stomach turned, his two fingers slipped inside you. They curled and moved slowly as his tongue worked your clit.

You could cum right there, letting him watch your whole body wither but you wanted to play the long game too. Your grip moved to his curls, tugging so hard the move you tried to hold back your orgasm.

"Oh... oh, I wanna..." Your voice strained, ending up biting your lip.

Tom smirked before leaving wet kisses up your slit and then further up toward your hips until wrapping his lips around your right nipple.

You leaned up on your elbows, smiling to yourself before he kissed you again, "I wanna be in control now." You whispered.

The two of you switched positions again, straddling him as he leaned his back against the headboard the of bed. You slowly wrapped your arms back around him, pecking faint kisses up his neck before meeting your noses again.

Your one hand guided his tip to your slit, rubbing it against the wet entrance before sinking down on his lap. His low, rough grunt was against your lips, but all you could do was smirk.

"I bet you want me to move now on your cock. I can feel it stretching out my tight hole." You whispered once more.

He didn't think such a dirty sentence could come from those lips.

"God, you feel fucking amazing, you tease." He said, his fingers pushing into your hips.

"I don't want you to cum until I say..." You kissed him, "Think you can do that, sir?" You teased.

Surprisingly, he nodded his head but he was completely putty. You fixed your posture to make your back straight, then start moving your hips. His head falls, pressing his forehead against your shoulder.

Tom tried to refrain from moving, bucking his hips a few times. You tried to take control by kissing him and make sure he's distracted, but there was no stopping his wanting to turn the two of you over and have his own control back.

"Don't be shy, tell me if you're gonna cum." You whimpered, also feeling your walls tighten around his throbbing cock.

"God, yes. I'm gonna cum." He grunted between your kiss.

You sped up the pace of your hips, hearing the slapping of your skin fill the room. You gasp and whine, "Don't cum yet."

But, he was so eager.

"Not yet... not yet." You trailed as you felt near your edge. You wanted him to wait until you were right there too.

By this point, he didn't want to move his hips, afraid of letting go since he was holding back. Your nails dug across his back, your clit incredibly swollen and your wetness trailing down your inner thighs.

"Fucking cum now, God!" You announced in a whiny tone.

Tom pushed down your hips, and his cock bottomed out inside you. Your voices were shaky and hoarse by the time you came back down from your highs.

Your head fell against his shoulder, both of your bodies settling as you huffed to catch your breaths. You slowly rolled off of him and lay next to him in his bed. Quickly, he pulled the covers over you two and leaned on his side to look at your tired self.

"Think we can go for round two in say..." He checked his watch, "Ten minutes?" Tom joked.

You smirked, "Make it five and I promise I'll have you screaming louder than me."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Not for me, sir."

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland smut

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y-so-hungry · 4 months

Text

Hungry Boy: Chapter 1

Summary: Joseph and Adam have had a mutual crush on each other for months now, though neither knows the other's feelings. Today, Adam goes to the diner that Joseph works at, hungry for dinner, and finds out that Joseph hasn't actually eaten all day... neither of their stomachs will stop rumbling either.

Notes: Hey everyone! This is a RP I did with someone, who wishes to remain anonymous, but was happy to share with you all our story! There will be 6 chapters, which I'm going to try and post one each day. They're all part of a single rp and I had to break it into chapters to avoid the story being WAY too long for one post. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

Tags (for the whole story, not just this chapter): hunger, stuffing, starved to stuffed, stomach growling, belly rubs, light bondage, masturbation, cooking, friends to lovers, M/M

Read on AO3

Adam walked into the diner after a long day at work, shivering from the cold wind and snow outside. He stomped off the snow on his shoes at the doormat, and his stomach gurgles at the smell of food permeating the small diner. There were a few other people inside, apparently also tired and cold from the day. He looked up at the bar and saw his favorite waiter, Joseph, standing there filling another customer's coffee. He smiled, and called out to him.

"Oi, Joey, ya got an open spot for me?"

The cup fills to the top, and Joseph immediately springs his head toward the entrance to see Adam grinning widely at him. Joseph smiles back, happy to see a familiar face.

"Adam! Come in, come in!" he calls back, leaving his first customer to enjoy his coffee. "We got a few empty tables, how many in your party?”

"Just one today. Just need to fill up before I go home," he says, patting his stomach underneath his maroon turtleneck sweater.

"Busy day today?" Joseph chats, picking up a stray glass and casually wiping it down with a cloth. "I know how that feels. Right now's the only time it hasn't been busy today, I haven't had much of a chance to eat anything since breakfast."

Adam frowns.

"You haven't? Jeez, love, you must be starving!" he says. A very faint blush colors his cheeks as he realizes he accidentally said 'love' to the waiter he'd had a crush on for months now, and also at the fact that Joseph admitted he was hungry. Something about hunger had always been... interesting to Adam, say the least.

Thinking the pet name as just a friendly gesture, Joseph bobs his shoulders in a little laugh. "You get used to it. Seeing so many people eating can kind of fill the gap, you know?"

Fill ...Joseph's eye catches another waiter walk to a table with a tray full of freshly cooked food; a few burgers and chicken tender sides, even a bowl of onion rings. The smell carries over to his nose, and he has to swallow before he starts drooling.

"Um- I'll be with you in a second!" he says in an attempt to hide his embarrassment. "I just- need to clean these glasses."

Adam raised an eyebrow, not entirely sure that watching people eat would actually “fill in the gap”, but didn't argue.

"No worries, take your time," he said with a laugh. He sat in his usual booth and considered the menu. His stomach rumbled at the sight of the food on it, and he couldn't help palming his belly again, rubbing it a little. He'd even eaten lunch, he could imagine poor Joseph's belly was practically howling with hunger... Part of him hoped he would be able to hear it when he came by for his order.

Placing the final polished glass with the others, Joseph turned toward Adam's table ready to take his order. Upon closer inspection, he can see Adam has placed his hand on top of his stomach, rubbing slow circles into it. He isn't sure if it's the hunger getting to him or something else, but the sight is enough to make his cheeks feel ever so slightly warm. It's probably just Adam, right? Joseph's been holding feelings for him for a little while now, it must be that. But it's specifically when he sees the attention on his stomach that...

Joseph shakes the thought from his head and takes out a notebook and pen once he reaches Adam's table. "Good day, sir. May I take your order?" he playfully asks in a faux-fancy voice.

Adam laughed.

"Mmh, I think the only thing that's been on my mind since I left work is getting the biggest burger on the menu," he says, sounding almost dreamy as he talks about it. "Side of fries, chocolate milkshake. Ooh and chicken strips. Carbs and meat are the goal right now."

His stomach gurgles quietly again and he rubs his belly more, licking his lips.

Joseph's breath catches upon hearing Adam's stomach. He can't deny that his listing of the food makes his own stomach cramp with hunger, his mind filling with images of all the items being cooked in the kitchen.

"Your stomach sounds like it agrees," he says, attempting to be teasing but unable to hide the small voice crack.

Adam's face blushed further and he pressed his fingers sharply into his stomach as he laughed.

"I'm starving, honestly. It was rumbling the whole drive here!"

Oh, geez. Joseph feels his heart skip a beat as Adam says that, the image of him sitting in the car with a rumbling, gurgling stomach during the entire drive filling his head. He doesn't need this now, especially when he's still got other customers to serve once this order is done.

"Hope it wasn't too distracting," he nervously chuckles, then takes a second look at the notebook. "Right, so- Number 3 burger, side of fries, chocolate milkshake and some chicken strips. Is that everything?"

"That should be it!” Adam answers. “Thanks so much, Joe, you're the best."

Joseph grins, his chest feeling warm. "Aw, shucks. I'll see if I can make the order come quickly, just for you."

He turns to leave, peeling off the order from the notebook, but is stopped by his stomach letting out a deep, hollow rumble, one that's not quiet either. He gasps, free hand flying straight for his belly in an attempt to cover up the sound. Damn dress shirt, it's not gonna hide anything.

Adam immediately feels his heart begin to pound, his breath catching harshly as he hears poor Joseph's belly growl. It was loud, loud enough that there's no way Adam could pretend he hadn't heard.

"Jeez, Joseph, was that your stomach?" he says, his voice sounding surprised but gentle, and also strangely intrigued. His eyes were trained on Joseph's belly, and the hand pressing into the area under his ribs.

Joseph feels every inch of his face cringe, his cheeks surely flushing bright red in embarrassment. Though he turns back around to face Adam, he can't bring himself to look him in the eye. He can only keep his eyes focused on his own empty gut, hoping it doesn't protest again.

"Uh...yeah. It was. Guess I'm hungrier than I thought, huh? H-heh..."

"Aw you poor thing. You really haven't eaten anything since breakfast have you?" Adam says.

Poor thing. Joseph's chest flutters as the words float around in his mind. Why does he feel like this? Why is he afraid of Adam finding out something he has no idea about? Why does this have to be happening in the middle of his shift?

"N-no, not really. Busy shift," he sputters as his eyes dart back and forth. "I'll go get your order ready- won't be long!"

He's quick to escape, hugging his arms tightly around his middle so as to not give anything else away.

Adam opens his mouth but Joseph has already sped away, off to hand the order to the chefs. Adam's stomach gurgles again, but he finds he's wondering more about how hungry Joseph feels right now, rather than himself. Poor guy has been running around all day on an empty stomach...

Suddenly Adam wonders if that was the first time his belly had rumbled in front of a customer, or if it had happened already today. That brought an odd feeling, wondering how flustered Adam got in front of other customers, wondering if his belly had been just as loud then. He could imagine him going off to rub his poor empty belly in private somewhere in the back, trying to get it to calm down before going out for the next order...

Jesus, Adam, quit thinking about that, getting riled up in a public restaurant is the last thing we want right now, he thinks to himself.

In the kitchen, Joseph hands off the piece of paper to a chef and makes his way back into the diner, wiping his forehead and taking a moment to breathe. What the hell was that?! he angrily thinks to himself. Getting turned on in the middle of the diner right in front of your crush- you're gonna make a fool of yourself! You got other people to serve, you moron!

Just then, he catches sight of another table glancing at him hopefully, waiting for their order to be taken. He clears his mind of any remaining dirty thoughts and makes his way over, notepad ready.

Adam watched as Joseph took a table's order, then came out a few minutes later holding a tray full of food for another table that had ordered earlier. Joseph gave a small smile to Adam before training his eyes back on the table, but as he came nearer, Adam could hear his stomach practically moaning with hunger. It wasn't as loud as before, but it was constant, grumbling all the way as he passed Adam's table. Immediately he felt his face flush and suddenly all he wanted to do was push his hands into Joseph's stomach and rub his poor belly, feeling it growl under his fingers.

The more Joseph works, the more his hunger grows, and the more his hunger grows the more he wishes he could be alone and take care of it, but he knows that that’s not going to happen anytime soon. Occasionally he’ll see Adam glancing at him, and his heart beats faster every time. Stop it, he tries telling himself. Focus on your work. You can eat later. Just keep going.

Not only that, he hopes that Adam’s order will be done soon so he doesn’t have to be hungry any longer. Even if the sounds are…kind of nice.

He really does look hungry, Adam thinks to himself as he watches Joseph continue on with his job. He can see the way his eyes catch on certain dishes, the way his hand absentmindedly settles on his middle when he's talking to a customer. Not to mention each time he passes Adam can hear small, telltale gurgles coming from his middle.

He supposed he could tell so easily in part because he was quite hungry too. His stomach would not stop rumbling, especially since the table next to him had been served a few minutes ago. The burger on that table looked so good, it made his mouth water, and his stomach gave another violent growl.

Eventually, most of the orders are taken and Adam’s order is finally ready. Joseph sighs as he picks up the tray with his food on top of it. So much for making it quick, he says to himself.

Back in the diner, he speed walks to Adam’s table, placing the tray down as quick as possible. “Hey, I’m sorry it took so long. There were a lot of big orders today. Is this everything?”

Adam's stomach gives a long, desperate moan at the sight of the food. It's so loud he can feel it shaking his ribcage, and he can feel blood rushing in his ears immediately. Both hands touch to his stomach but there's no use trying to cover the noise.

"Oh man, heh, sorry, yes I think this is everything, jesus..."

If he were a cartoon, Joseph swears that steam would be coming out of his ears at the sound of Adam’s stomach. He’s known him for years, he’s heard his stomach before…and yet it’s never been this ravenous before. He swallows to moisten his throat.

“Are you sure you ate enough for lunch? You sound starving…” he says. genuinely concerned but also a little intrigued.

"I thought I did, though I guess my job is fairly labor intensive, I'm on my feet all day helping customers, hauling around books, shelving them, but I didn't think I'd be this hungry after a day at the bookstore." He laughed and rubbed his belly as he popped a fry in his mouth. "MMMF, gods Joey, this is so good. Thank you, I swear I could kiss you."

Joseph felt his heart leap into his throat. Surely Adam didn't...mean that, right? Obviously not, they're just friends, he wouldn't actually want to kiss him...surely.

"O-oh, well, I'm- I'm glad you like it!" he stutters. "I'll make sure to send compliments to the chef, he'll-"

The smell of Adam's food wafts past Joseph's nose, and his stomach rumbles again. It's been consistently rumbling for the past hour, but Joseph's starting to reach his wit's end. Scowling, he gently smacks his notebook against his belly, as if punishing it.

"You're the one who sounds starved honestly, Joey," Adam says, sounding sincere, and yet his eyes were staring directly at Joseph's belly. "You haven't eaten all day, you must be damn near desperate now."

At this point, Joseph decides to give up on the attempt– no one in this diner believes he’s cool and collected about this– and takes a deep breath.

“God, yeah, I’m dying,” he exaggerates, gripping onto his belly. “Being around all this food is difficult on the easiest days but when you’ve barely eaten anything yourself? It’s like torture.”

His stomach lets out another long, rumbling groan. It’s enough to where he can feel it buzz against his palm. Despite his own words, his heart flutters at the feeling.

"I'm sure it is," Adam says. When Joseph's stomach rumbles again Adam's hand suddenly jumps up, Joseph's belly is so close Adam could touch it, but he quickly disguises the movement by tucking a hair behind his ear, unsure of how graceful it actually looked. "It really does sound empty, the poor hungry thing. Your shift ends in what, one, two hours?"

If he calls me a poor thing one more time– Joseph pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, attempting to hide the squirming in his legs. He feels like he’s going weak. “A-actually, I don’t have much left. I think I end in about half an hour? I’m tempted to order something myself if this keeps screaming at me.”

He gently prods his belly, which gives a small, agitated grruuu in response.

Jesus fuck it's like he's TRYING to make me lose my mind, Adam thinks as his face flushes thoroughly again at the sound. When Joseph mentioned buying something to eat however, Adam got an idea. A stupid idea, that Joseph would 100% turn down and would definitely think is weird but it's way too late Adam has already opened his mouth--

"Actually... I was wondering if maybe you would like to spend the evening at my place? You can eat there, we could talk... Maybe I could feed you?"

Thank you for reading! Chapter 2 will be posted soon!

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