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shmpxx · 9 months

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NOTHING BUT A BULLY — g.s

⛤ bully! gojo satoru x fem! reader

you’re a victim of gojo satoru and his annoying tactics, it’s hard getting away from him but probably not this time.

cw. smut. mentions of non-con(photo taking). dub-con. virginity loss. oral (f.receiving). creampie. unprotected sex. fingering. dacryphilia. breeding. public sex. overstimulation. 18+!

wc: 2k

a/n: it’s been a minute bc I’ve been picky on what i write and i got inspiration from bully!gojo fics I’ve read so I’m writing this one!

Something about you was different, in a way that gojo couldn’t stop teasing you, he could never get bored even if you wished and prayed there be a day where he grew tired of poking at you.

He purposely trips you down the hallways or acts like he doesn’t see you and intentionally shoves you with his shoulder. Makes derogatory comments about you where he makes sure you’re listening. Stealing your lunch which he probably doesn’t even eat, he just wants to make your life miserable. Slaps your books out of your hands and watch you pick them back up while he chuckles to himself, if your lucky geto would be there and help you and excuse gojo’s actions. He would also secretly takes pictures under your skirt of your panties probably jerking off to them later.

He does get a little jealous when he sees someone else talking to you, he’ll always come around throwing his arm over your shoulder or even pushing you forward.

You tried to avoid him as much as possible, when you see him you try to walk the other direction he was coming from. He always know you try to avoid him as well and sometimes he still catch you. “Trynna hide from me?” He deviously smiles.

It wasn’t that he hated you, he just loved to tease and make fun of you. He made sure of that when you were both alone in a classroom.

He had you sitting on a desk with his hand slipping past your skirt to grope your thigh and ass. He grins to himself spreading your thighs for him to get in between them as he hungrily kissed your lips. His other hand on the back of your neck preventing you from pulling away from him even though you tried, fingers tugging on his shirt for desperation of air.

There wasn’t a day where every time he saw you, he thought of kissing you and touching you indecently. Now the time has come. His sexual fantasies of you are finally coming true.

Why were you letting him do this to you? After months of bullying and torture, you were letting him do whatever he wanted and you didn’t know why.

“You don’t know how much i wanted this” He moved down to your neck, ravishing your neck not caring that even after people would see the marks on your neck only to embarrass you.

You jolt when you feel his fingers press against your clit behind the fabric of your panties.

You kept thinking to yourself, you should stop this now. You can’t have gojo satoru control you like this. Not here.

“don’t want to anymore-“ you let out.

You pull away seeing his face in a pout expression, “aw don’t be like that” He moves your panties to the side, spreading your folds apart before entering his two fingers inside and feel the stretch of your walls by the intrusion of his fingers, letting out a cry and cling onto him. Your muscles tightening around him by the weird sensation he brought you.

“Your so tight, i bet your a virgin huh? Saving yourself for me right?” He whispers into your ear whilst pumping his fingers into your hole.

His fingers curl into the right spongy spot inside you making you wail loudly, smirking to himself watching your aroused expressions.

Looking at you as you were such a inexperienced sweet thing he loves that he’s toying you like this.

he speeds his pace faster into your cunt with also his thumb rubbing circles on your clit bringing you a whole new sensation you never felt before, you feel the tears breaking through your closed shut eyes. The tingling feeling bubbling up inside you, you didn’t know what that was, afraid of it.

“No! No! Wait-” you beg with a moan, you were about to reach something. Reach something you don’t know of and you felt complete emptiness. You were confused.

His drenched fingers covered in your arousal left your hole, instead gojo hooks onto the elastic of your panties and strips them down but you stop him from doing shaking your head no.

“you don’t want me to make you feel good?” He tilts his head at you.

“I..” you didn’t know what to say, your cunt feeling in ache of touch again but realization hit you that your in a classroom doing such activities in public.

“You want me to make you feel good right?” He stills brings your panties down dangling off your one ankle.

Apart of you wanted to say no but without thinking he had you wrapped around his finger like you were entranced that you nodded yes that got him smiling from ear to ear.

“I know you feel sore don’t you? I can kiss it better” Subconsciously you leaned back onto your palms when his hands under your thighs pushed them up more for him to gain more access as you watch him dip his head between making your heart ponder at your chest.

You whimper feeling his lips giving you a gentle kiss on your clit and started off with soft kitten licks on your cunt.

His lips latching onto your clit, sucking and licking your sensitive area. The same feeling building up inside you again coming much faster than before causing you to break out a moan.

Giving him the signal to bury his tongue deep inside your walls and give you a hard suck one last time before you start feel an rippling pleasure throughout your body. You feel as if the air ultimately left your lungs and you try to catch your breath.

Gojo licking the creamy substance that came from you from his lips and your cunt, not even giving you a break to let you calm down and your clit becoming sensitive spasming uncontrollably from his tongue and your legs became like jelly. You try to buck your hips away from his mouth but you were to weak to do so. Letting out sweet sobs.

“sweet angel being so good for me” he brushes his thumb across your bottom lip leaning in to kiss you again.

Without a warning from him, you break away from his lips feeling the tip of his leaky cock rubbing between your swollen folds.

“Gojo-“ your hand on his shoulder stopping him from going any further.

“Just relax angel—if you let me, I’ll let you call me satoru” as if it were a deal for him to take away your purity.

Half of his cock disappear inside you, he couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as you clutch onto him for support, dipping your face into his chest and his shirt damp from your tears. It was different from his fingers, his dick was pushing aside your walls. An inch of pain engulfing you but only for a few seconds.

“Sweet thing it’s not even all the way in yet”

“Ah! Gojo! I-“ his hips slamming into you. Not giving you time to adjust his rhythm already being so rough. You can’t think other than him being so thick and how far he’s reaching deep inside you making your head spin. He was so hard too and impatient he couldn’t wait to fuck you.

“Please—you’re too rough” As if he would listen to you. He thrusts into you hard, skin slapping against each other, the sounds of squelching from your sobbing cunt and his cock bullying your walls you might end up in the shape of him. Your body bouncing and your breath hitching every second from his aggressive thrusts.

You wanted him to be gentler though did you want this at all? Your mind still can’t comprehend anything other than the sweet spot he hits repeatedly. You cry and whimper into his shoulder making cute noises to gojo’s ears, holding onto him as you heard him grunt and pant into your ear.

“Who knew a slut like you could be enjoying this?”

“That’s not—ah!” You couldn’t get your words out without being interrupted by each moan you kept choking out.

Gojo couldn’t get over the way you squeezed him tight every time he pushed in and out of gummy area, your hot soft walls. You were full of warmth and wetness, making his dick twitch already. Even the way you cling onto him and cry into his chest by the overwhelming pleasure was so cute.

He can even see the way you move against his hips knowing your so desperate for it and enjoying it even how many times you try to deny it he knows.

“I’m gonna cum inside okay? I want to so bad need to fill you up”

“No—don’t! ah!-h, don’t wanna-“ the familiar tingling came back again yet you felt as if you were gonna cum much harder than before. His hips hitting you faster at a brutal pace, his hand grabbing behind your lower back to pull your hips closer to his to hit deeper inside your cunt, his tip almost at your cervix you might go dumb.

“Can you imagine having kids together? wouldn’t that be nice?” Carrying a child of your bully would be the last thing you thought of.

Shaking your head no he is quickening his pace and his slams his hips on his last thrust, emptying his hot load into you as you also reached your second orgasm much harder than before, your gummy walls contracting around his girth. Your body trembles and you sob loudly tears damping his shirt at this point feeling full and warm of his cum in your tummy.

He pulled out and cum leaked from your hole dripping onto the desk. “aw your letting it all spill”

Your body goes limp and he decides to flip you on your stomach onto the desk, your ass hanging in the air though you feel as if your about to fall apart. He smiles to himself watching his cum stream from your cunt like it was his masterpiece. it was too much already but gojos hands finds your waist, you whine feeling pressure and his cum gush out, sticking his erect dick once again inside you. “I miss your pussy already and plus i want to cum inside you again and fill you up a little more, just be a good slut like you are okay?” He squeezes the plush of your ass.

“Gojo no-“

“Satoru…you earned it now and you earn a little more—hah” already thrusting inside your abused swollen cunt. It was so easy for him to slide in again and how you still feel so warm inside just how he likes it.

“Sa-toru” you moan and whine water filling your eyes and soaking your lashes. “I love it when you say my name” his voice in a raspy tone, throwing his head back, pleasure engulfing him whole. His essence oozing onto the floor.

He grabbed your thigh lifting your leg up for him to gain more access more control, you were onto your side holding onto the desk preventing yourself from slipping off. He just continues tormenting your body, reaching towards your clit and his thumb putting pressure onto it. You couldn’t do nothing but cry out, you were so overstimulated, you were weak and now his thumb adding a more electrifying sensation and you were about to achieve your third orgasm.

You would consider this torture, it was too good to handle at all once. Your head spinning, your out a breath only to make small noises.

“I’ll try to make this quick, just for you sweetheart” he continues his frantic thrusts, rubbing your clit in rough circles, your eyes roll back in too much ecstasy you were basically drowning in. He loved watching you all fucked out, his cock plunging you every second.

He finishes up and cums into you one last time, fire pooling low into your abdomen. Another warm load filling you up making you fuller, Gojo thinks to himself that this would not be the last time he will have you.

You thought gojo would change a bit towards you, that was a lie. The next day your shoes are missing and you can hear him laugh from the hallway down. You hate yourself for liking someone like him now but you can’t help it, you know he is just using you as his little toy and also messing with you at the same time. From your missing shoes to him freeing his cock and pressing it against your lips on your knees.

#jjk smut #jjk gojo #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #satosugu #gojou satoru x y/n #jujutsu kaisen

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bluebeary-jay · 7 months

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Be still my foolish heart (don't ruin this on me)

Neighbor!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: you and Joel have been neighbors for a while but despite your mutual interest in one another, you never crossed this line. until, after one tense situation, Joel slips up (based on this wonderful request!)

Tags: friends to lovers, love confessions, fluff and angst, Joel is your sexy neighbor you shamelessly drool over, also his toolbelt is an important character in the fic (don't judge me)

Warnings: angst, 'nice guy' alert 🙄, attempted assault (stopped by Joel), some nsfw content but not actual smut (yar girl is gettin there 😌)

Word count: 6.2K

A/N: hiiii my darlings!! sorry for the wait, i know it's been a long time but life was crazy. here's sth i've been workin for a looong time and honestly i stared at it for so long i no longer know if i'm proud of it or not 🙈 anyway, i really hope you guys will like it and as always, happy reading!! 💕

“I really don’t know how to thank you, Joel. This is incredible.”

Joel watched, slightly embarrassed, as you walked around the table with a wide, bright smile. You gripped one of the legs – the one that was previously crookedly attached and broke down when you put something heavier on the counter – and tested its stability. After a successful inspection you looked up at him.

“You’re a lifesaver.”

“Nah, nothin’ of the sort.” He waved his hand, feeling a big lump in his throat when you directed that pretty smile of yours at him. “M’just glad I could help.”

“You didn’t have to fix this, too, though.” You brushed the edge of the table which Joel sanded so you wouldn’t get a splinter from the rough surface. His eyes followed your fingertips before he coughed.

“Didn’t want you to hurt yourself. This side was practically smashed up, after all…”

“Still, I didn’t even need to ask you.” You shook your head in thoughts before glancing at him with gratitude. “Thanks again.”

“You really gotta stop thankin’ me.” Joel started to gather his things into the toolbox and wiped his palms on his pants (certainly not because they were slick with sweat). “It was a piece of cake.”

“But, you know.” You tilted your head to the left and right, scrunching your nose playfully, and it was so fucking adorable that Joel thought his heart was going to give out. “You already fixed the sink in my kitchen, that hole in the wall, my door, and now my table… Are you sure I’m not leeching off your generosity?”

A half-smile found its place on Joel’s face, and he shook his head with a chuckle. “M’sure. It’s only fair since we’re neighbors, sweet girl.”

Sweet girl.

Joel never knew if he wasn’t crossing the line by calling you that. You never gave any sign of discomfort or disgust when he did, but he also recognized that regardless of your reaction, he should stop. He couldn’t deny that his old heart harbored an embarrassingly big crush on you – after all, you were the most beautiful girl he had ever laid his eyes on – but it wasn’t right to think about you in that way.

If he only knew that every time he let those words of endearment slip, your heart started to do crazy somersaults.

Joel Miller was an extremely handsome man, there was no denying that. And with his deep drawl, the salt-and-pepper hair, the warm, brown eyes and that dangerous smirk he sometimes sent in your direction… it was no wonder you fell for him.

It also didn’t help that he was so kind, always ready and eager to help you with the smallest inconvenience. Sometimes it made you want to smash something in your house yourself, just to have an excuse for him to come over again and for you to be able to watch him work.

But you weren’t that desperate, yet. Yet.

Your daydreaming was rudely interrupted by a series of knocks on your front door. Both your heads snapped in the direction of the sound, but when you recognized the familiar pattern of it, your mood dampened in an instant.

Joel noticed the change in your expression, of course, and immediately stood up, leaving the toolbox on the floor.

“What is it?” he asked with a hint of alert in his gruff voice, but you shook your head.

“It’s nothing. Don’t go yet, okay? I’ll be right back.”

You exited the room before he could ask another question, and Joel furrowed his brows. He stayed rooted in spot, listening to your heavy step as you walked to the door and opened it. And then… he heard a male voice that started to say something to you.

Joel couldn’t help but grind his teeth as he finished gathering his stuff, ready to go back home. It was the second time that some man came to visit you while you had him over, and the bitterness he felt in his mouth was even more noticeable than on the previous occasion.

He knew you were quite popular in Jackson, especially with boys your age. There was always someone offering to buy you a drink or dance whenever you went out with your friends, and once Joel had to even step in when two drunk guys kept pestering you. But as much as it pained him, some of those men who showed genuine interest in you were quite nice. And good-looking.

And a lot younger than him.

He knew very well that he was too old for you. He knew that he shouldn’t fantasize about sharing a life with you, and that thinking of any form of intimacy between you and him was making him a big old creep, but no matter how many times he swore to himself it’ll be the last, he could not stop. You were just so beautiful, so sweet and so nice…

He saw your smiling face when he went to bed late at night, and imagined your body beside him when he woke up early in the morning. He looked at your house on his way to work and wondered if you were eating breakfast already, taking a shower or still sleeping peacefully amidst the many blankets he saw once on your bed. He felt a rush of energy and endorphins every time you knocked on his door, asking him to help you with something, and it only enhanced his already existent protectiveness toward you.

Suddenly, Joel heard a raised male voice from the porch, which instantly got his guard up. He quickly followed the sound, and upon rounding the corner he saw you trying to close the door on Jack, a boy he recognized but never talked to. He saw him a couple of times at the bar, though he wasn’t one of those bothering you and never seemed to give anyone any trouble.

Still, you looked really uncomfortable, so when your and Joel’s eyes met, he nodded reassuringly and took his place in front of you.

“Is somethin’ the matter?” he asked dryly. The sight of him took Jack aback and he opened his mouth, looking lost for a good moment. Joel raised his eyebrows, and the young man cleared his throat.

“Nothing at all. We were just chattin’.” Then Jack looked over Joel’s shoulder at you, completely ignoring the other man. “What the fuck is Miller doing in your house, anyway?”

You stammered, but Joel kept his cool, leaning against the doorframe casually. Jack was tall and well-built, but still smaller than Joel, and he made use of this fact to intimidate the boy to the extreme.

“Mr Miller is helpin’ her with the sink that needs fixin’,” Joel answered instead with a pang of irritation. “And you’re kinda interruptin’.” Jack didn’t move, and Joel clenched his jaw. “Scurry. Now.”

The boy huffed, murmuring something under his breath before he bid you a grudging adieu. Joel shut the door behind him with more force than he intended and took a second to calm his breathing before turning back to you.

“Sorry if that was too harsh–”

“No, don’t apologize.” You sighed tiredly and went to the living room, plopping down on the couch. “It’s okay. Maybe he’ll back off a little.”

Joel bit the inside of his cheek, wondering if he should ask the question that was gnawing at him mercilessly.

“Are…” he started, and you lifted your head. “I mean, are you two…”

“No!” you quickly answered, blushing a little to Joel’s surprise. “No, no, nothing of the sort. He asked me out and I told him I’m not interested, but he still tries to…” You waved your arm in the direction when he saw the youngster last. “I don’t know, convince me?”

Joel sat down next to you, clasping his hands together. “Well… if he ever gives you any trouble, you lemme know, alrigh’?”

A small smile spread across your face when you tilted your head to look at him.

“Thanks. I appreciate it.” Then a playful glint appeared in your eyes, and your smile turned mischievous. “...Mr Miller.”

A breathless laugh escaped Joel, and he dragged his hand over his face, praying that he managed to stifle a groan wanting to escape his chest. He shook his head to regain some clarity, but could still feel all the blood in his body rushing down. It didn’t help that your couch was too small, and your knees were touching – though Joel couldn’t tell if it happened when he sat down or a little bit later.

Fuck.

“Shut up,” he just murmured, not looking at you in fear you’ll see what your words did to him. “I tried to make him leave quicker.”

“And he did. And I think you deserve a reward for your help.”

You stood up and for a second Joel panicked. A reward, you said.

He couldn’t help the images that flooded his brain in that moment – of you on your knees in front of him, or bent over the table he just fixed. His eyes went to your thighs, and his own flexed involuntary when he envisioned how you’d feel underneath him, what sweet sounds he could coax out of you, how soft your skin would be in those places you kept covered…

But then you walked past him, and he snapped out of the naughty daydreams.

“Wh-where are you goin’?” he asked, his voice strained, and you looked over your shoulder with an oblivious smile.

“I made a cake this morning. I’m gonna bring you a piece, yeah?”

You didn’t wait for an answer, and just left the room with pep in your step.

Joel groaned and let his head fall back, covering the redness of his cheeks with his hands.

Idiot.

Almost two weeks have passed since the last time you asked for his help with something, and surprisingly, Joel was okay with that. After that embarrassment he experienced in his own mind, he told himself that it would be prudent to distance himself from you for a little bit. At least until he could act normally around you.

He still thought about you constantly, that he couldn’t help. Every time he saw you in town he instantly felt lighter, but so very often you were accompanied by another man – and no matter if you seemed comfortable with the attention or not, Joel always had this urge to come over and protect you from any unwanted suitors.

He was being ridiculous, he knew that. You didn’t like him the way he liked you, and even if he somehow grew a pair and told you about his feelings, a pretty and young girl like you would never be interested in someone who could be her father’s age.

The thought of you thinking of him as a father figure churned up his guts, making him feel sick. Jesus Christ.

But it still did nothing to weaken his infatuation, and when you finally knocked on his door again, asking if he could fix the rack in your room, he didn’t even hesitate before agreeing.

So here you both were. Joel, looking at the problem at hand, and you, looking at (none-the-wiser) Joel.

“S’nothin’ big,” he finally said after some examination. “I’ll replace the shelf and reaffix it to the wall better. Shouldn’t take long.”

You nodded, but truthfully you were only half-listening. The sight of Joel in your bedroom was far too distracting.

It’s been so long since Joel was a guest in your house – well, only a couple of weeks tops – but you missed seeing him in your private space. Though one could say, he never truly left with how often you thought about him.

So maybe that’s why you were so shameless with your staring.

His broad shoulders were to die for, and you bit your lip absentmindedly as your eyes wandered across his muscular back and forearms, usually hidden under the sleeves. You knew you shouldn’t be ogling your neighbor who was nice enough to lend you a helping hand whenever you needed, but… well, a little admiring wouldn’t hurt anyone, right?

And there was a lot to admire.

“You listenin’ to me?”

The brutal wake-up call of his voice pulled you out of your thoughts, making you blush wildly and your body hot with embarrassment at being caught staring.

Okay, maybe it would hurt someone.

“Y-yeah,” you stuttered, feeling your whole neck heating up rapidly. “Uh-huh. I understand.”

Joel’s lips stretched into a lopsided smile, and he turned to face you fully.

“I asked if you have some nails in the house,” he repeated, not breaking eye contact. If you allowed yourself to be delusional, you’d say his voice sounded almost… flirtatious. But that was probably only your head telling you what you wanted to hear.

“Yeah…” you breathed distractedly, but then shook your head quickly. “I mean, no. No, I don’t.”

Joel smirked, stepping closer to you and making you swallow heavily. Your gaze once again dropped to his strong arms, down to his big hands and… fuck. He had his thumbs hooked in his tool belt, already hanging low on his waist, and it made him look so ridiculously hot.

Lord have mercy.

“What got ya so distracted, sweet girl?”

Have fuckin’ mercy.

“Nothing!” you said, a bit louder than you intended, crossing your arms over your chest to do something with this splitting tension in your body. “I was just looking at… the shelf.”

Joel’s eyebrows shot upright. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that he didn’t believe you. “The shelf,” he repeated blankly, and you nodded, trying to appear calm despite feeling like you were going to burst into flames if he kept looking at you like that. But then Joel chuckled, and his eyes turned as warm as always. “M’only teasin’. Stop lookin’ so scared.”

“I’m not–” you started, but your lips also spread into a grin when you saw his genuine smile. “God, you’re insufferable. Will you fix it or not?”

“So demandin’,” Joel mused, shaking his head and walking out of the room. “I’m gonna go get the nails from my house. Be right back.”

You whispered under your breath something he didn’t hear, but it made him smile to himself nonetheless.

It was so easy to slip back into this playful banter with you, Joel thought as he made his way back home. Maybe things between you two won’t be as awkward anymore (though he was aware all this awkwardness was his fault), and he could go back to being your friend.

No matter that he wished he could be something more. No, it wasn’t right to think that way. What you two had was enough.

Still, as he looked for those damn nails, he couldn’t get out of his mind the way that adorable blush spread across your face. And how your eyes lingered on his figure when he looked at you. But no, surely he was only imagining things.

…right?

Joel sighed, closing the door behind him and going back toward your house, his thoughts already on the best way to fix that shelf of yours and maybe stabilize it a bit more, because by the look of how it hung on the wall, it was only a matter of time until he’ll have to visit again.

Or maybe he’ll leave it be. Only to have an extra excuse to see you sooner rather than later.

He rolled his eyes at his own musings, but the train of his thoughts abruptly stopped when he saw your front door slightly opened. He slowed down, wondering if you went after him… but no, there was no sign of you anywhere, and he was pretty sure he closed it on his way out.

And then he heard a faint sound of glass shattering.

Joel’s mind went completely blank. In a blink of an eye he stormed into the house, his survival instincts formed over the last twenty years kicking in and screaming for him to find you, to make sure you’re safe and unharmed.

But your bedroom was empty and when Jeol yelled your name, no one answered him. You were within the safe walls of Jackson, and there was no way the infected or raiders could ambush you, but still Joel felt an icy wave of panic washing over him, his mind providing him with terrible scenarios that would explain the open door and your silence.

Then a small thud reverberated from the other room, and Joel’s legs carried him there without a second thought.

He slammed the door open, and his eyes immediately locked on the man holding you against the wall. Your assaulter – that fucking kid, Jack – had one hand covering your mouth, the other forearm pinning your shoulders to the wall. His knee was between your legs and Joel could see you standing on your tippy toes, trying to pull away as far as possible.

Joel’s hands were itching to get rid of the threat that guy was for you, but first his gaze involuntarily shifted to your face – and his heart clenched painfully when he noticed your terrified expression and tears streaming down your cheeks.

The blinding rage in Joel’s veins almost charred him from the inside out and he felt like he was about to explode from the fury seething inside of him. In two long strides he ran towards Jack and all but threw him off of you, stepping to the side to act as a shield between you and him.

“You just signed your death sentence, kid,” he growled and punched the other man in the face when he tried to get up. You screamed behind him, but Joel ignored it, the need to beat the living daylights out of this little shit almost overwhelming his senses.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” Jack yelled from the floor, holding a hand in front of his face. “You broke me fucking nose, man!”

It was true, the blood was flowing freely from the already swelling nose, but it didn’t feel like enough. Joel had to utilize every fiber of his willpower to keep himself from venting his wrath on this kid. He knew damn well it wouldn’t end well for either of them – Jackson had hard laws when it came to violence.

“You deserve a lot worse,” Joel gritted his teeth and motioned with his head towards the exit. “Now get out.”

“She wanted it!” Jack shouted, as if he hoped that his explanations would make the situation any better. He wiped the blood flowing from his nose, glaring at you angrily. “Stupid bitch,” he snarled, “can’t make up her mind. Didn’t I do enough for you?! I was nice, always helped you–”

“Get the fuck out of here before I break your jaw,” Joel cut in, clenching his fists and taking a step forward. The young fucker seemed to size him up for a couple of seconds, probably wondering if starting a fight was worth it, but eventually spluttered contemptuously.

“Fine,” he snarled, and then looked below Joel’s arm at you. “I wouldn’t want to catch somethin’ from you, either way, if you’re already fucking this old geezer.”

Your face, and also Joel’s, grew hot – but while yours was red from embarrassment and shame, his was burning from barely concealed rage.

“OUT!!” he shouted, his thundering and powerful voice making both you and Jack flinch. His face was twisted in fury and the other man must’ve realized that staying here longer would only mean worse for him, because he scrambled to his feet and ran out without another word.

The front door slammed shut behind him, and for a few seconds a heavy silence hung in the air.

Joel took a steadying breath, trying to restore his cool, but he felt himself shaking from rage. If he didn’t come back in time… if he was a minute late, he didn’t want to think what that bastard would’ve done to you.

Trying to shut down the intrusive thoughts, Joel turned around and knelt by where you were still seated on the ground. He couldn’t will the tension in his body to lessen, and his muscles and tendons were so taut that he thought they were going to snap. But he forced his hands to unclench before he gently cupped your face.

“Did he hurt you?” he asked quietly, his brows knitted in worry. You shook your head, but your eyes were filled with tears, and it felt like something was ripping Joel’s chest apart.

“He pushed me. And I… the glass.”

You lifted your hand and Joel winced when he saw a shard of green glass – from the flower vase which previously stood on the table – embedded in your palm. A trickle of blood was running down your wrist, but he presumed there would be much more once he took it out.

“It’s alright, sweet girl. I’ll take care of it.” I’ll take care of you. “Let’s go to the kitchen so I can patch you up, ‘kay?”

You nodded, letting him pull you to your feet.

Once you made your way there and you instructed him on where some bandages and disinfectant were, Joel gently grabbed your waist and hoisted you up onto the table, seemingly without any problem at all. You blushed when you felt his touch, for a moment forgetting about the pain piercing your palm, but the gravity of what you just experienced crept up on you again soon enough.

Joel noticed your silence as he carefully removed the shard and bandaged your hand. He didn’t want to imagine what exactly happened when he was gone, but it was obvious it shook you quite strongly. So when he saw tears welling in your eyes, he threw all caution to the wind and wrapped his arms tightly around you.

Not one ounce of regret had time to haze his mind over, because you instantly clung to him, too, letting out a shaky exhale. Joel hugged you tightly, letting go of all the tension and fear in his body. He was never this close to you before, and he allowed himself to indulge in the warmth of your body and the feeling of your arms around him, reminding him that you’re okay, that you’re with him now. He breathed in your scent, hiding his nose in the crown of your head and pressing his lips to your hair, hoping to calm you down.

“It’s alright, baby. I’m here, you’re safe now.”

You tensed, but Joel just held you closer, not realizing he said something wrong. He planted a soft kiss on your hairline, sighing when you started moving your hands up and down his back soothingly. Despite standing up, Joel felt relaxed like never before, like he could fall asleep right here and now.

That is, until you spoke up.

“What did you say?”

…shit.

Joel opened his mouth, then closed it almost immediately. His eyes raced wildly across the room, trying to think of what to say, but he didn’t let go of you. There might’ve been a selfish reason behind his inaction, but mostly he didn’t want you to see his flustered face.

“Nothin’,” he answered after a pregnant and rather uncomfortable pause, and cleared his throat. “You don’t wanna… t’was nothin’ important.”

Maybe you really didn’t hear him. It would have saved him a lot of trouble and embarrassment, and probably another two weeks of his life of avoiding you. But judging by the silence in the room, he wasn’t so lucky.

“Did you…” You swallowed before finishing softly, “call me ‘baby’?”

Joel cringed, closing his eyes tightly, and prayed for some higher power to smite him off the surface of the Earth. But again – luck wasn’t on his side.

The silence prolonged, and you finally grew impatient. You pulled away, looking up to scan his face. “Joel?”

“I’m sorry, it… slipped out,” he mumbled, all red and not meeting your eyes. That was a shame, because if he did find the courage to look at you, he would notice a small smile forming on your face as you regarded him.

“So I heard you correctly?” you asked again, and he sighed heavily, running his hand over his face and rubbing his eyes.

“Yes, yes you did. M’really sorry, I wasn’t thinkin’. I just tried to comfort you and– fuck,” he whispered to himself, lowering his hand but still not looking in your direction. “I, I don’t want ya to feel uncomfortable. I’m sorry, I can go…”

“No.” Your uninjured hand shot out and grabbed his shirt before you could process what you were doing. Joel glanced down at your fist clutching the material, and then back up into your wide eyes. “Please, no. Stay.”

His lips parted slightly at your request and unexplained (at least from his perspective) hope filling your gaze. He looked so adorable that you had never wanted to kiss him more than right now.

“Come closer,” you pleaded, barely louder than a whisper.

Joel obliged, letting your hand guide him. You gently pulled him to you, so that he was almost standing between your legs, and your fingers loosened their hold, now smoothing over the material of his shirt.

You took a deep breath and leaned forward, bracing your weight on his chest. Joel looked puzzled by your behavior, but when he realized what you were doing, he stopped you gently by putting his own hand on your shoulder.

“No,” he whispered, his voice full of pain, but steady. “Don’t do that. You… you’re in a state of shock.”

“I know what I want,” you spoke equally quietly, staring at him with nothing but pure genuineness and need in your eyes. “And I want you, Joel.”

“Please, ba–” he cut himself off before he could finish this word. It pained him deeply to reject you, but he knew that if he let you kiss him, you’d regret it later. And that he wouldn’t be able to survive. “I’m sorry, sweet girl, but it wouldn’t be right. I don’t wanna be takin’ advantage of you.”

Your face fell in confusion and disappointment, but you didn’t let him go even when he put a light pressure on your hand.

“You never..” you gulped, searching his face, “thought about it? About… me, in that way?”

Christ, what was he supposed to say to that? He wouldn’t be able to lie to you, not if you kept looking at him with those innocent and full of desire eyes of yours.

“Don’t ask me.” Joel closed his eyes, the muscle in his cheek pulsing when he felt your touch on the side of his face. “Please, don’t ask me.”

“Because I have,” you continued in a sudden rush of courage. “I think about you constantly, and about us. Every time I invite you over or see you in the town working... And I’m only saying all that, because I thought maybe… maybe you felt it, too. I think you do.” Joel didn’t answer, and you looked up at him with determination you didn’t really feel. “Tell me.”

Joel clenched his jaw, exhaling heavily, but didn’t pull away. He weighed the options in his mind while you waited patiently, and finally, his resolve cracked under your hopeful gaze.

“I think about you,” he began slowly, earnestly, “every night. Every fuckin’ night and day, sweetheart.” His voice was raspy, but that drawl of his so soft and delicious to your ears. “But I shouldn’t. You and I both know that.”

He still hasn’t looked your way. You tried to lean to the side to fit in his field of vision, but Joel turned away even more, attempting to take a step back. You grabbed his shirt again before he could do that, and he didn’t fight you.

“Why not?” you whispered, transfixed on his handsome features.

“‘Cause you deserve better. I’m way too old for you,” he answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, like you should know it already. “You have so many admirers who are probably much more fit for you, and it would be… it is so wrong that I’m lettin’ those thoughts linger.”

“I don’t want any of them, though.” Joel finally locked eyes with you, but still seemed conflicted. You slowly let go of his clothes and reached for his hands, then guided them to your cheeks. You saw his throat bob nervously when you placed them there and brushed his knuckles with your thumbs. “Look, it’s hard for me to open up, but… I really like you. Really.”

Joel swallowed heavily, his face contorted in pain – as if your words were wounding not only his soul, but his very flesh. Then the pressure on your cheeks became a little stronger, and he tentatively swiped his thumbs under your eyes in a loving manner. Your heart fluttered like a hummingbird’s wings as he slowly scanned your face for any sign of hesitancy, then let his eyelids drop and pressed his forehead to yours. You lifted your chin slightly, nudging his nose with the tip of yours.

“Call me that again,” you whispered pleadingly. His wooden, earthly scent was enveloping all your senses, making you feel so very calm and safe. You’d gladly lose yourself in him. “Please.”

Joel instantly knew what you meant. His resolve was wavering and his body giving in, but the doubt was still there in his mind. The fear that he was somehow reading you wrong.

“Don’t beg me, sweet girl.” His breath was on your lips, beckoning you even closer. “M’too weak for that.”

“Please,” you repeated more urgently, and when he didn’t move, you turned your head and pressed your lips to the inside of his wrist tenderly. “Joel.”

He cursed softly. It appeared that the tension between you both was getting to him, too, and Joel was losing the battle he fought with himself. He lowered his lips to the edge of your jaw, his pupils blown wide and eyelids heavy, almost as if he was under a spell. You whimpered when he withdrew one of his hands on your cheeks, but the loss was quickly replaced by relief when he moved it to the small of your back, pulling you closer and flush against his body.

“You sure about this?” he murmured lowly, making you shiver against him. His nose traveled along your jaw and the column of your neck, then back up until his lips brushed the shell of your ear. “I don’t want ya to regret it.”

“I won’t,” you promised. “Please, baby.”

Your plea sent a shiver down his spine. Joel couldn’t hold back anymore, didn’t want to. It was clear you wanted him, and he never was a strong enough man to deny you anything.

Your eyes met, and Joel took a second to get his heart under control. You were so beautiful, and your skin so soft under his touch… He tilted your chin up, barely able to comprehend that all of it was really happening, that it was you who put his hands on yourself. And you wanted him to kiss you.

For fuck’s sake, you begged him to.

All the remaining traces of his self-control evaporated in a heartbeat, and he pulled you in, pressing your body closer before bringing his lips to yours, locking them in a soft kiss.

His mouth molded perfectly to yours, causing you to sigh with relief at the gentle caress. You felt heat pooling in your stomach, and you were glad for sitting down because your weak knees would surely buckle under you in different circumstances. The intensity of the kiss gradually grew until it became so heated that you had to grab a fistful of Joel’s hair on the nape of his neck for support.

At one point, Joel pried your lips away, searching your eyes with concern. You worried that he was having second thoughts, but the longer he looked at you, the more his own irises darkened with lust and insatiable hunger, making your face burn like it was on fire. His clear want and the knowledge that you were the cause of it made you feel powerful, but somehow at the same time completely naked under his gaze.

Without any warning, he dived back in, his wide palm enveloping one side of your face while he tangled the other hand in your hair. He tugged on it, probably a little rougher than he intended, eliciting a needy moan from your chest. You instantly felt embarrassed about your response, but when you tried to pull away, Joel practically growled, not letting you turn away.

“S’alright, baby,” he rasped, trailing hot kisses down your neck, making your breath hitch in your throat. “Keep makin’ those pretty sounds for me.”

You felt dizzy. Like he could make you melt from the tone of his voice alone.

Having his lips on yours felt better than you have ever imagined, and so perfect that you never wanted this moment to end. But one thought kept nagging at you, making it harder and harder to focus, and finally after some time Joel softly drew away. He sent you a soft, almost shy smile.

“What is it, sweetheart? Not havin’ second thoughts, I hope?”

It hit you in that moment that it wasn’t the first time he looked at you with so much warmth and affection in his eyes. You just never noticed before that he always looked at you this way.

“No, no,” you hurried to reassure him. “Just something… Something I wanted to do for a while.”

He raised his eyebrows playfully. “Somethin’ other than kissin’ your handsome neighbor?”

You clicked your tongue at his unexpected cockiness.

“Not exactly.” Your answer only made him more intrigued, and you grinned. “Indulge me and take a step back.”

Joel squinted suspiciously, but eventually humored you. You bit your lip, feeling giddy at finally having a chance to do something you thought about every time this infuriatingly handsome man was in your house.

His eyes followed the tip of your tongue when it ran across your bottom lip… and you took this moment to hook your thumbs on his tool belt and yank him forward.

Your lips connected again, though it was far from perfect – your teeth clashed together and your noses collided, causing you both to yelp in small pain and discomfort, but you didn’t let go of him. Your joy from this silliness lasted only a couple of seconds, though, because before long Joel started to laugh uncontrollably.

You huffed and tried to kiss him again, but he withdrew out of your reach, wrapping his arms around your waist with a big, goofy smile.

“Get back here.”

“What the hell was that, sweetheart?”

His eyes crinkled in amusement and you felt a bit foolish from what you just did. You turned your gaze down, but Joel lifted your chin with his fingertip, and you couldn’t help but smile, too, when you saw how happy he looked.

“It looked more romantic in my head,” you murmured with an awkward chuckle. “I actually wanted to do it the first time I saw you with that belt on.”

“S’that so?” Joel asked and kissed you briefly again, this time with a hint of hunger he was keeping at bay until now. “You like seein’ me in it?”

“I really, really do,” you whispered, hiding your face in his chest. “I don’t know why, but it look so fucking hot on you…”

“My dirty baby,” Joel purred into your hair. The bright grin on his face only grew when he heard you groaning in embarrassment. “Gimme a kiss.”

You didn’t move, not wanting to face him, so Joel opted to nuzzle the sensitive skin of your neck with his nose. “You’re adorable, y’know that? Don’t get all shy on me now, babygirl.”

A deep sigh escaped your chest and the tension in your shoulders lessened. Joel smirked into the crook of your neck, still planting soft kisses on your skin. His lower back was starting to ache from the position, but there wasn’t anywhere else he’d rather be.

And then all the discomfort in his body was put in the shade when you moaned quietly, pressing yourself against him more and wrapping your arms around Joel’s neck.

“Do you wanna get back to my room?” you asked after a while, and Joel hummed into your skin, now littered with love bites his lips and teeth left in their wake.

“You want me to fix that shelf of yours?” he teased back, making you snort.

“Just wanna cuddle with you. If that’s okay.” You nuzzled into his neck, and added quietly. “I can still feel his touch on me. And I only wanna feel you.”

Though Joel would be more than okay with that, by the sounds you were making and the look you were giving him, he doubted that’s all you’ll be doing. Still, his back hurt like hell and he almost let out a relieved groan at the thought of laying down.

“If you want me, baby. If you want me, then I’m all yours.”

Not a week has passed, and Joel had to get his toolbox out again – this time to fix your broken bed.

Though now he knew exactly what caused the damage.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us #joel miller fluff #i played with perspective a bit in this one as you can probably tell #joel miller x you #joel tlou #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction

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whoslai · 9 months

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suffer the repercussions - p. s. 🔞

̶̶̶̶ «̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ «̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ »̶ ̶̶̶ ̶̶̶̶ «̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ «̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ »̶ ̶̶̶ ̶̶̶̶ «̶ ̶̶̶ ̶

paring: meandom!sunghoon x bratty!y/n

warnings: MDNI! degradation + praising, oral sex, finger sucking, dumbifying, dacryphilia, angry hoon, power kink, cum swallowing, slightly toxic talk….possibly more

wc: 1k

fic under the cut!

you and hoon had been arguing back and forth about how annoyed he was with you consistently coming back home late at night. sunghoon was a naturally possessive guy, he’d been one since the day he asked you out. only, you didn’t expect that outwardly planning to go on a late night hurrah with your friends would end you up cornered in your shared bedroom with your very angry boyfriend..

“you think you can just waltz around in that skimpy little dress, going on and on about spending the night clubbing?” sunghoon asked you, gently closed the door to your bedroom as he turned back to face you.

you cleared your throat, nervously scooting backwards on the bed as you looked up at sunghoon as he towered over you.

“hoon,” you began, trying to reason with him. “it’s not like i’m purposefully trying to ma…” only, you were cut short as sunghoon yanked you back to the edge of the bed by your legs, forcefully spreading them apart as he stood between them.

he tilted your head up with his cold fingertips, staring down at you with thick lust glazing over his lowly lidded eyes. “no need to make excuses…”

a smirk spread on his face as he gripped your jaw tightly. “we both know you just want to act like a little slut with your good for nothing friends, don’t you?”

you gulped, wincing at the feeling of his fingers dig into your face. “n-no…that’s not true…i just...”

“shhhh…” he cooed, caressing his thumb over your trembling lips. “open.”

tears filled your eyes as you complied, slightly opening your mouth for him.

“all the way.” so, you opened your mouth wider for him, already aware of what was to come next.

as you expected, he pushed two of his fingers into your mouth, shoving them against the back of your throat.

“ack!” you gagged, your throat convulsing over the pads of his fingers. sunghoon bit his lip, his eyes trailing lower down your body as he tapped your chin.

with that, you blinked your tears away and sucked on his fingers. “you know you can do better than that. pretend like my fingers are my cock; your favorite thing to have in your mouth.”

his words caused your stomach to stir, the feeling travelled down to your pelvis and then to your throbbing pussy. you uncomfortably shifted on the bed as you sucked harder, holding onto his wrist to guide his hand deeper into your mouth until it wouldn’t go any further.

you continuously gagged, but sunghoon only nodded in approval as he watched you. “good.” he said, slipping his fingers as he pulled his belt off. “only thing you’re good for is sucking my dick.” he murmured, signaling for you to get onto your knees and help him with his pants. “cock desperate sluts like you live for sucking dick.”

you didn’t reply, only unzipping his jeans and pulling them down along with his briefs as his cock sprang out and slapped against his stomach. his tip was an angry red, seeping precum. it was evident sunghoon got off on calling you a slut…and he wasn’t the only one.

you held the base of his cock in your small hand, licking the cum from his tip and lightly sucking on the head as you looked up at him with tear-glistened eyes.

“stop teasing.” he roughly spoke, harshly pushing your forehead back to snap you out of it.

you took him more into your mouth, taking in as much as you could, but he was just so big. he’s never fit all the way into your mouth, but you had a feeling that he was determined to do so tonight. “i don’t care if you choke, take all of what i’m giving you, y/n.”

you moaned at his words, feeling more and more turned on at his assertive tone. “ah…shit. do that again.”

you hummed in response, feeling him twitch inside of your mouth before he slammed himself all the way inside. your eyes flew open, falling back to the bed as he held onto your head as hee mercilessly thrusted into your mouth, moaning at the feeling of you gagging over and over again.

sunghoon’s fingers tangled into your hair and held you against his pelvis as his warm load shot down your throat, forcing you to swallow it all down up until the last drop.

he let you go and you coughed, trying to soothe the throbbing of your abused mouth. “was that too much?”

you only looked at him, wiping your mouth.

“y/n?” sunghoon cooed, walking closer to you once again. “you just say the word and you know i’ll stop.”

“i don’t want you to stop, sunghoon.” you told him, opening your legs as you leaned back onto your hands. “just promise me one thing?”

he raised his eyebrows, propping himself up over you as he waited for your proposition.

“promise me you’ll fuck me like the slut i am.”

let’s just say…you never went out in a skimpy dress ever again after that night..

̶̶̶̶ «̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ «̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ »̶ ̶̶̶ ̶̶̶̶ «̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ «̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ »̶ ̶̶̶ ̶̶̶̶ «̶ ̶̶̶ ̶

note: uh hi LOL sorry for the abrubt ending. i only intended for this to be a drabble ~ i know you guys really liked the mean dom sunghoon asks so i just wanted to drop this. i hope it was alright…(writing for sunghoon is lowkey fun. maybe i should dabble more into the heehoon territory…🙈)

#enhypen smut #laiya speaks #enhypen ff #enhypen x reader #sunghoon smut #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon ff #sunghoon fic #sunghoon hard thoughts #sunghoon hard hours

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anadiasmount · 2 months

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sound of you - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: as much as you put the most effort you always find yourself in the same place you dread. although along with jude it seems a little easier and perfect when with him.

wc: 1.3k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist

i promise a bigger fic will be otw soon!! i’m trying to answer blurbs as much as possible before i start my wip!! 🤍🤞🏻

you shut your mouth, slouching a bit in your seat as you get ignored and left out for the fifth time this night. you gulp heavily and take a sip of your drink, faking a smile when you hear your friends explain the story you were about to tell.

you fidget with your rings slowly distancing yourself from everyone. you had came tonight to celebrate your friends promotion, and while you dreaded it, you came out of respect, even if she couldn’t do the same with you. your leg began to bounce feeling the familiar anxiety build in your chest as you listened to the chatter and laughs.

why was it so hard to please them? why did they constantly ignore you? why did they always seem to leave only you out? why couldn’t they just consider your feelings for once? we’re you different from everyone else?

nobody seemed to care when you excused yourself to go to the restroom, leaving you a bit more disappointed. but it wasn’t your night, it was your friends and the last thing you wanted was another embarrassing encounter where they called you out in front of everyone.

you hadn’t noticed, but jude did. jude sat there uncomfortable at the way they treated you. the way they spoke at you, ignoring you, treating you literally like a plate for a second table. he hated it. you were such a beautiful and wonderful soul and he was left angered and raged how they did what they did to you.

he saw it all. the fake smiles, getting cutoff, heavy gulps, leg bouncing, looking around to find a door or a way to leave, he saw the sadness in your eyes the entire evening. it began to sting him just a bit, because he understood what it was like to be in your place.

you returned excusing yourself into the seat, eyes a bit redder than before, and lips just a bit plumper than they had been. jude saw the way you bit your cheek, ignoring everyone in the room and focused on your ripped jeans, poking and tugging on the strings.

jude those time he spoke with you, he was infatuated with how kind and lovely you spoke. how shy and reserved you were, but most of all how funny you are. when he was introduced to the group you hadn’t treated him for jude bellingham, you treated him like the friend and person he was which he admired so much.

you hadn’t made the friendship a personality, or flexed it like some of them did. you didn’t fight for his attention or made it seem desperate. he either approached you, or you did when he was left alone and looking around. he had taken a liking and the more and more he hung out with you, the more attached he was.

he’d find any excuse just to hangout with you, to make you laugh, smile, or hear about your day. treat you like you should’ve been treated by everyone else. if he could, he’d make you his and give you anything you wished or wanted.

jude saw you cheer up at the mention of another memory, but then you quickly got quiet again, that’s when jude had enough and spoke up. “i’m sorry to cut in but what we’re you going to say y/n?” jude said, pointing at you, you tensed at everyone looking at you.

“oh nothing! nothing, nothing,” you ushered him off, looking at him pleading with your eyes to drop it. your friend raised her brows at the situation, crossing her arms making the fire rise more. “what we’re you gonna say y/n? hmm?”

“honestly i forgot what we were talking about,” you lied laughing it off, which earned a couple chuckles from everyone. your friend rolled her eyes and continued her conversation. “i just think it funny how you invited everyone but ignore y/n only,” jude scoffed, “but that’s just me though,” he shrugged leaning back onto the seat and downing his drink.

“excuse me?”

“i said what i said. you’ve been ignoring y/n, cutting her off, and giving her no attention whatsoever,” jude tested her seeing fury build in her. “you’ve made everyone feel included expect her, why? because she’s better than you?”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” your friend tried to defend herself, waving jude off. “you know exactly what i’m talking about, you just can’t admit it because you know i’m right. you make everything a competition with her, try to belittle her, ignore and humiliate her for what? to make yourself look better? everyone here sees it,” jude stated, not caring if he was making a scene.

“you keep doing it as if we don’t notice. you ask her a question or bring up a certain memory and ignore or cut her off. it’s immature and disrespectful. i don’t care if tonight is about you, but you always do it when she’s here or when we’re together, and i’ve had enough,” you bite your lip trying to hide back the smile that wants to appear.

this earns a few snickers from everyone, agreeing with him on what he said. "and don't act so innocent, you know exactly what you're doing. all shes done to you was be there for you especially when you most needed her, and this is how you treat her? you and your friends?" jude continued, seeing your friend throw glares at you.

"if you had a problem with it y/n, why didn't you ever say anything?" your friend says angrily, earning a small scoff from you. "how was I supposed to? all you do is ignore and exclude me? and i put up with it because i feel sorry for you," you stand up, grab a couple bills and slam them on the table. "good luck at your new job, you'll need it, but i'm done with you and your shit."

you feel the chill breeze hit you as you step out, tugging the coat closer to you as you look around to call a taxi. the door jiggles and someone new steps out, to your surprise it is jude, who looks around to find you. you immediately run to him, hugging his torso and crawling to his neck seeking comfort. "thank you," you say sincerely, not being able to find the write words for him.

"anything for you. i'm so proud of you for finally standing up for yourself y/n... i don't know how you put up with it every time," jude whispers, leaning his head into yours, hugging you closer. "i think i put up with them because i thought they'd change and realize, but friends don't treat each other that way..."

he could hear you sniffling and a small whimper escape your throat as you cried, making him pull your head back and wipe the tears away, "you have me now... and i'm not going anywhere," jude says softly, "i really like y/n... so much..." he admits seeing a tint of happiness grow upon you. "how much?" you tease earning a deep chuckle from him.

"to the point where i want to call you my girlfriend," you shyly look away biting your lip with contentment and forgetting about the incident inside. "gonna have to prove it to me jude," you dare, seeing jude quickly lose focus and call a taxi along the road.

"how about we hit up the plaza, they have live music you love so much, and then we can have a movie night, see where the night takes us?" he says walking you to the taxi and opening the door.

"lead the way, mr. bellingham."

#jude bellingham #judey thoughts 5️⃣#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham blurb #football fanfic #football x reader #footballer

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mikeluciraphgabe · 1 year

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A certain Batman fic I desperately want written is so heartbreaking I don’t even know if I should tell y’all…

I’m going to anyway but still

Some anti-hero needs to kill Bruce in order to save the world in X days

Bruce, obviously, is all “ya sure”

His only condition? He gets a week or so to say goodbye to his children

Bruce isn’t Batman at all for this - wanting the birds to remember him as Bruce

Bruce takes Dick out to the first diner they ate at together when Dick was like 8. Bruce, before taking him back home to Wally, goes on this teary rant about how much he loves him/how proud he is.

Dick gets “wtf, are you ok??”

Bruce tells him he just had a bad dream (bc it’s the only excuse he could think of) and invites him over to the manor over the weekend for a family movie

He does this with all his children - something different for each

All of them are a bit off footed by it, but don’t ask too many questions bc Bruce is just Weird sometimes

(Bruce wanted his kid’s last memory with him a happy one)

With the movie started, all of Bruce’s kids in one spot, genuinely happy, Bruce settles a bit - ready

He dies during the night - the anti-hero was nice about it

The birds find out what happened - of course they do - and the gut twisting cries that leave their mouths cause anyone with super hearing to pause, listen, and panic once they recognize who was crying

#anyway #*dances*#good dad bruce wayne #bruce wayne is a good father #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #cassandra cain #duke thomas #damain wayne #alfred pennyworth #batfam #batdad

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sprinkler-ashes · 8 months

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the great war // aaron hotchner x reader

aaron hotchner x fem!reader

words: 5.5k

description: in which aaron hotchner thinks you’re hot-headed. inspired by the great war by taylor swift.

warnings: angst w/ a happy ending, one (1) steamy car makeout, cursing, typical cm violence depictions

a/n: long time no see, and i’m sorry about that. to make a long story short, summer was very awful on me; i had a breakup and am now back in school + drowning in work. I love this fic so much; it’s probably my favorite i’ve ever written and i hope you love it too <3 also!!! if you have a request for a fic to a song, please send it my way! taylor swift is my go-to, but i am open to any song request <3

you drew up some good faith treaties

i drew curtains closed, drank my poison all alone

you said i have to trust more freely

but diesel is desire, you were playin' with fire

You should have known better than to date someone you worked with. No, actually, you should have known better than to date, of all people, your boss.

Date was a loose term.

You weren’t really sure when the lines between co-workers blurred into friendship and when friendship blossomed into early morning coffee dates and late evenings in the office together doing paperwork, and even later nights spent at dinner tables being hours deep into conversation. You knew it hadn’t happened out of nowhere. This thing between the two of you had been building up for years – years of pining.

There was a voice in the back of your head telling you that it was all too good to be true, but you pushed it back as far as you could. Besides, the two of you hadn’t even called it dating, but it sure did feel like it.

But it hadn’t felt like that in a really long time.

Aaron had put a stop to whatever was going on four months ago. He had given you some bullshit excuse that he was your boss, it was wrong of him to be doing whatever the two of you were doing with his subordinate — blah, blah – but you had stopped listening when your heart became so heavy you thought it was going to physically weigh you down.

You had been through breakups before, even some serious ones, but nothing had ever felt like this.

You tried to stop him, but he was also a man who had made his mind up; it was impossible to get through to him that you didn’t want to end it.

So you went back to work acting like nothing had happened. And it was about to be the death of you.

However, you were a professional. It’s not like the team even knew about you and Aaron. You acted the same as always when you were at work. No one suspected anything because no one knew what you were going through.

You didn’t talk to Aaron unless you had to. Truthfully, you hadn’t spoken to him for anything that wasn’t work-related since he basically dumped you on a random Wednesday evening for reasons you couldn’t fathom, but that didn’t mean you didn’t try.

In the beginning, you tried reaching out. You called, you texted him a couple of times, and you had even been so desperate one night that you sent him an email. Each time, you were met with rejection, and him saying something along the lines that both of you should just forget about everything.

So you did by cutting all contact. You thought to yourself, I’ll show him, but it really did nothing. If it bothered him, he never showed it.

It seemed like nothing bothered him until now. A whole whopping four months later.

“Not only did you blow our cover, but you walked into a hostage situation with no weapon to defend yourself; you didn’t even strap a vest on. You are lucky that no one died or was seriously injured.” Aaron wasn’t yelling – he was actually just slightly an octave below yelling – but it sure as hell sounded like he was screaming because his voice had never been like this towards you.

You frowned, not liking the way he was calling you out in front of everyone – in front of a group of people that you greatly admired and respected. “What else was I supposed to do, Hotch? If I hadn’t gone in there, that woman would have died. I was trying to save her life.”

“Save her life?” he asked incredulously. “From the moment you burst through those doors, you put her in even more danger than she was already in. Not only could she have died, but you also could have.”

“Why are you giving me so much shit over this?” you asked, throwing your hands up in anger, not paying attention to the awkward glances your team was giving each other. “I’m not the only one who's done this, and I won’t be the last. I don’t care to risk my life trying to save someone else. I’m sorry that I blew everyone’s cover, but I won’t apologize for saving her.”

Aaron shook his head, his demeanor that was normally unreadable was completely gone. “You’re on probation, effectively immediately-”

“What? I, Hotch-”

“You will not physically assist in any cases for the next two weeks. You will still travel to cases, but you will work directly from the police department. You will not be allowed to go in the field.”

He kept talking, his mouth moving a mile a minute listing off all the things you were allowed to do and what you couldn’t do, but you couldn’t focus on anything he was saying. You were so tempted to slap your boss across the face and if it wouldn’t have technically been workplace harassment, you probably would have.

“Hotch, we’ve all made mistakes,” Derek Morgan said. “No one ended up hurt tonight. With all due respect, I think a two week probation is a little harsh.”

You wanted to thank Derek for sticking up for you, but you couldn’t form words at that moment. Your feet were on the move faster than you could even think as they took you to the SUV that you’d arrived in, not wanting to hear Aaron talk to Derek about you. All you wanted to do was get on the jet, leave the small Arkansas town you were in, get back to Quantico, and try to stop thinking about Aaron Hotchner.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t as easy as you liked to think.

You rode back to the hotel with Emily and JJ, who had let you sit in the front seat, and didn’t dare look either of them in the eye. Emily tried to make small talk to lighten the mood, but you could barely even think about anything other than your probation and the way that Aaron had talked to you in front of everyone. She eventually took the hint, and the three of you rode back to the hotel in silence.

You finally turned to Emily once the SUV came to a stop. “Do you know if we’re leaving tonight or in the morning?” Normally, if you finished a case late, you always preferred to spend the night in the hotel in order to get some rest, but there was nothing you wanted more than to just go home now.

“Uh, tonight,” Emily said with a grimace. “Sorry, I know you usually hate leaving immediately after.”

You shook your head. “Not this time. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to go home more than I do right now.”

Emily eyed you up and down, taking in your slumped, exhausted body. Her eyes flickered up to the mirror, catching JJ’s eye who was giving an equally worried look. “Do you want to talk-”

“Not right now, Emily,” you interrupted. “I’m going to pack my stuff up. Can you send me a text when it’s time to go?”

Emily looked like she wanted to say more, but she didn’t, sensing you obviously didn’t want to talk about it right now. “Yeah, I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled. “See you guys soon.” With that, you were out of the SUV before either of them could unbuckle their seatbelts and on your way to the entrance of the hotel you were staying in along with the rest of the team.

Typically, you shared a room with someone, but luckily for you, it was your turn to get your own this time, which you couldn’t have been more thankful for when you swiped your keycard and finally got to be alone for a minute.

You knew that Emily meant well. She had been one of your closest friends since you had joined the team. You felt a tinge of guilt at how closed off you had been to her in the car when she was just trying to make sure you were okay. However, you really weren’t okay, and you really didn’t want Emily to know the full extent of what was going on.

After hastily packing your things and grabbing a quick shower, you received a text from Emily that it was time to go. On your way down to the lobby to meet her, it was finally setting in that you were, quite literally, exhausted. You’d been awake since before daylight and a quick glance at the time shining on your phone reminded you that you had been awake for nearly seventeen hours.

You rode with Emily, JJ, and Rossi to board the jet, but ended up napping the entire short duration of the drive. Truthfully, you hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep until Rossi had nudged you awake.

When you were finally in the air, you allowed yourself to catch a glance at your infuriating boss who was still, as usual, in his suit with his tie and jacket discarded, writing in a file.

Probably writing me up, you bitterly thought to yourself. You knew you had done a not-very-smart thing, but by the time you figured out that the original plan the team came up with wasn’t going to work, it was too late. If you hadn’t darted through the door and startled the unsub, the poor woman who was taken hostage was going to meet a very similar fate that four other women faced.

You could admit that it was a rash, last minute decision, but you didn’t regret it. You saved a woman’s life and helped capture an awful man who would have never stopped if not caught. It felt like Aaron was punishing you for something that wasn’t the decision you made tonight. Two weeks on probation felt a little extreme to you.

Twenty minutes into the flight, Derek, Rossi, and JJ were already asleep while Emily looked like she was close to following. Spencer was nursing what you thought was his second coffee in the short time on the jet, a pair of headphones in as he watched something on the tablet he had propped up.

That left only you and Aaron sitting in silence.

This had been a particularly hard case that had to be solved in under seventy-two hours in order to prevent any more victims since you, with the help of Spencer, figured out that the unsub operated on stalking and kidnapping his victims on a specific schedule. Hardly anyone had gotten much sleep in an attempt to solve the case as soon as possible – hence why nearly everyone was asleep.

Aaron finally spoke after nearly fifty minutes into the flight from his seat in front of you after Emily and Spencer had finally drifted off, though you weren’t sure how Spencer was even sleeping considering he had downed two coffees. “You should get some rest.”

“Don’t worry about me,” you said bitterly, keeping your eyes straight ahead. “I’ll be getting lots of rest in the next two weeks considering I can’t really do anything else on probation, so thanks, but I’m good.” The words were tumbling out before you could even comprehend what you’d said. In a normal situation, you’d be worried that speaking to your boss like that would result in its own consequences but considering you were already on probation, what was the harm?

He said nothing.

—

It was nine days into what felt like the most excruciatingly long probation known to man, and you still had five more days to go.

You had just gotten back from a case in Maine where you, unfortunately, barely got to do anything other than help out at the police station. In addition, you had to finish several online modules assigned to you by Strauss on safety in the field, which was, in your opinion, ridiculous considering you had been at the BAU for a good amount of time – long enough to know all about safety in the field.

“I think I’ve gone past the point of exhaustion,” Emily said as you came off the elevator as she stifled a yawn. “Is that a real thing?”

“Yes, my beautiful friend who I am so happy to see. That means you need to get home and rest.”

Penelope Garcia was there to greet you at the elevator, a warm smile lighting up her face as she gave Emily a hug then turned to you. “How are you doing?”

“I’ll be fine in five days when this stupid probation is over,” you told Penelope, watching her give you a sympathetic smile.

“I’m heading out, but you have my number if you need me,” she told you with a comforting pat to your arm. “Goodnight ladies.”

Penelope was on the elevator to leave as you and Emily, after waving off Penelope, filed off to your desks to pack up to go back to your apartments.

“Got a hot date tonight?” Emily asked jokingly.

You laughed and shook your head. “Haven’t had a hot date in a long time. What about you?”

It was true. The last date you had been on was four months ago with the man who also happened to be your boss and who also happened to be your number one enemy right now.

“Just with Sergio.”

You and Emily were already on your way out to leave for the night officially until you stopped in your tracks when you reached the elevator. “Ugh, I just realized I left my phone charger at my desk. You can go on without me.”

“You sure? I don’t mind waiting,” she said as she stepped into the elevator.

You nodded. “Go on; it’s late. Have a good night, Emily.”

A huff left your mouth as you turned back on your heel to walk back to your desk. Your hands grasped the charger laying under several files that you (probably) needed to look at, but tonight was not the night for that.

However, you realized it was definitely not your night at all when you tried to turn your car on, only to be met with a sound of spluttering.

“Not tonight,” you groaned, repeatedly trying to turn your key to start the engine, but the car never started, much to your luck. “Are you serious right now?”

Your car was by no means brand new, but it was a good car and not often did it give you problems. Except for tonight. Or in other words, the one night you desperately wanted to go home, take a shower, and go to bed.

You weren’t really sure of your options. You could probably call Emily. She couldn’t have gotten too far down the road. Maybe she could give you a ride since her apartment was on the way to your place. Another option was calling an Uber, but –

Your car door opening knocked you out of your train of thought. Your brain immediately went into fight-or-flight, and you chose fight as your hands instinctively reached for the pepper spray on your key ring.

“Hey! It’s just me.”

It was Aaron with his hands outstretched into a surrender position, his suit jacket hanging from the crease where his arm bent. “Why are you sitting in the parking lot in the dark with your car unlocked? Do you know how easy it would be for someone to-”

“Come up and kidnap me? Yeah, I learned all about it in my online safety training this past week as if I didn’t already know,” you sassed with an eye roll. “I think my battery is dead. I usually keep jumper cables in here, but I cleaned my car out last week and must have taken them out. I’m probably going to have to call an Uber.”

You didn’t know why you were telling him all of this. The small voice in the back of your head knew why, but you weren’t willingly to actively think about it. You had enough on your plate right now.

“I’ll give you a ride home.”

“Like hell you will,” you told him.

“You do know I’m your boss, and you technically can’t speak to me like that?”

“You won’t fire me. You'll just put me on probation.”

He paused, his eyes closing momentarily before opening them again and going back to his stoic demeanor as usual. “Let me drive you home, so I will know that you got home safely. Please.”

You wanted to say no, but it was late and getting a ride home from Aaron meant that you didn’t have to bother Emily or lose money on an Uber. The only thing you’d be losing, in your opinion, was what little dignity you had left when it came to Aaron.

It’s just a ride home, you told yourself in your head.

“Fine.” You had admitted defeat. “Give me a second.”

He turned his back to you and started to walk away from your car. When you knew for sure he couldn’t see you, you positioned the rearview mirror so you could see yourself in it. Before you could stop yourself, you attempted to fix your hair as nicely as possible and then took a moment to stop what you were doing. You scoffed at yourself and shook your head.

“What is wrong with me?” You asked yourself aloud. “He doesn’t care. Neither do you.”

However, after you grabbed your things, you did sneak one more look in the mirror before getting out of your car and locking it. You were glad when you took another look to see Aaron not looking in your direction.

You made your way over to Aaron’s signature parking spot, the same one he parked in every morning, and met him there, his hands typing something out on his phone until he noticed your presence.

Without missing a beat, he opened the passenger door for you. You wanted to tell your heart to stop when that familiar flutter came back like it used to all those months ago. You opened your mouth, but he stopped you before you could say anything.

“No need for a remark. I’m just opening the door for you.”

“I was going to say thanks.”

A ghost of a smile danced across his face as he shut the door. It was so quick if you weren’t paying attention then you wouldn’t have seen it.

Your eyes adjusted to the interior of Aaron’s car, déjà vu hitting you from the first time you were ever in his car. But you forced those thoughts back down with a grimace and a reminder of how that ended the first time.

With one hand gripping the wheel and the other holding onto the back of your seat as his torso turned, eyes watching behind as he backed out, you thought you were going to throw up. Not because you were sick, but because Aaron was so damn attractive in doing the simplest things like backing up a car.

“You can turn on the radio if you want,” Aaron told you. “Your cord is still in here.”

You bit your lip, eyes locking onto the green cord still plugged in. “I’ve been looking for that everywhere. I had to buy a new one for my car.”

Back when you were frequently with Aaron, and he was typically the designated driver when you went places, you often complained about the lack of music in his car. He only listened to whatever was on the radio. He had no CDs nor did he have an AUX cord, claiming something about never being in his personal car long enough to deal with music in it.

After that day, you put your AUX cord in his car the next time you were in it and controlled the music, often giving him a performance to your favorite songs in the car as he drove. Aaron never complained like a lot of guys would. Instead, he would watch you belt a heartbreak ballad with an amused smile.

But that was months ago. And things were much different now.

“I would’ve given it back to you, but it’s slipped my mind. Feel free to take it with you.”

The happy memories that the AUX cord brought back were pushed to the back of your head again at his words. He told you to take it because there was no point in it anymore. You two were done.

You didn’t plug the cord into your phone. You didn’t play a song. You sat in the terrible silence, wishing it wasn’t silent like before, but it was silent, and Aaron was acting like nothing was wrong.

Another awkward moment passed as he kept driving, the route to where you lived engraved as he had driven there many times. Aaron didn’t have to ask you where you lived because he knew. He knew from all the late nights he dropped you back off. The thought of all the previous times you’d been on this exact same drive under different circumstances made your head hurt.

“Why did you put me on probation?” The words slipped out before you could stop them.

“You know why I put you on probation. You comprised the safety of yourself, the team, and-”

“I compromised the safety of myself, the team, and the victim, yes, I know, but you put me on a two week probation when I can name off countless times that others on the team have done worse and didn’t get put on a two-week probation,” you argued back. “I know I messed up, but at the end of the day, it feels like you’re punishing me for something.”

He nodded, his eyes staying trained on the road. “I am punishing you for something, and that something is compromising-”

“I swear if you say compromise one more time-”

“Compromising your safety and the safety of others.”

You didn't say anything. Your arms were crossed as you looked out the window and into the dark as objects moved past you, reaching closer to your destination.

Aaron spoke your name, but you didn’t want to look at him.

“What?”

“Look at me,” he said as the car came to a stop at a redlight.

You reluctantly looked over, not prepared to see him already looking at you. You swallowed, trying to keep your gaze on him.

“I’d rather you be angry with me than even thinking about the possibility of you getting hurt.”

You couldn’t speak even if you wanted to because he kept going.

“When I saw you run into that warehouse, it was one of the only times in my life that I have been so scared that I couldn’t think straight. I put you on probation because you did something reckless. All of us outside thought we lost you when we heard the gunshots. I know you and a few others thought probation was too harsh, but it’s important for you to know that if you’re going to storm a hostage situation, you have to communicate with us. The team cannot lose you,” Aaron told you, his eyes never leaving yours. “I can’t lose you. Understood?”

You were pretty sure that at this point your voice was gone. You simply nodded.

The light turned green, and Aaron started driving again, his eyes finally breaking contact. “Finish out your probation next week and then put it behind you.”

There were no more words spoken. It was silent. You didn’t know how to respond to anything he had just said to you.

Except you did have one question. You weren’t even sure if you wanted the answer to it.

“If you can’t lose me,” you started, fiddling with the sleeve of your top, “then why did you end things?”

“It was for the best,” Aaron said, breaking your heart all over again. “I’m your boss-”

“You being my boss didn’t seem to be a problem when your mouth was on mine every time you dropped me off from dinner.”

He didn’t seem to have an answer for that. You sat smugly in your seat waiting for him to say something.

“You want the truth?”

“I’ve only been asking you for the truth for four months now,” you shot back.

“I fell in love with you.”

Aaron said it so casually that you had to do a double take, your mouth slightly opening. Out of all the things he could’ve said, you did not in a million years think that would be it. Your heart was pounding, and there was a moment where you thought that you had imagined him saying that he fell in love with you, but he really did say it.

He continued. “I thought it was best to end what was going on between us because things would’ve only escalated, and I didn’t want people to think negatively about you. You’re a strong woman in a male-dominated field. You’ve worked hard to get to where you are. You should be taken seriously and unfortunately, going out with your boss doesn’t look good on paper. I hurt you, and I’m truly sorry for that.”

You hadn’t even realized it when Aaron had finally pulled up to the huge parking lot of your apartment building, which was surprisingly vacant for a Thursday night. The words he’d said were dancing around in your head. You hadn’t done anything wrong. It felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

Even after everything, all you really wanted was him.

“Aaron,” you said as you turned to him when he put the car in park, “I mean this with all due respect, but that’s not just your decision to make. I should get a say. I wish you had told me because for the last four months I’ve been going crazy with overthinking. That’s why it hurt so much when you put me on probation. I thought you were punishing me for something between us. Please don’t shut me out because I’m in love with you, and quite frankly, I don’t give a shit about what people say about me.”

“But people will talk about you-”

“So?”

“And there’s also Strauss-”

“Who we can deal with. I’m not afraid of Erin Strauss,” you cut him off again.

He raised his eyes before you spoke again. “Okay, maybe I’m slightly afraid of her, but that doesn’t change anything. You don’t choose who you fall in love with. If people want to talk about me for being in love, then let them. I just want to be with you, so please stop trying to protect me. I can handle anything.”

“Okay,” Aaron said after a minute. “Okay. If you want to do this, there is a lot to discuss work-wise.”

“That’s fine. I have a lot of time to discuss things. I’m on probation.”

Every other time you had brought up your probation, it had been with anger, but this time, there was only a grin on your face. Even though you were still mad about that damn probation, which was another conversation for another time, you figured you might as well make a joke out of it.

Aaron couldn’t keep a straight face. “Yes, you are for five more days. You still have one more module on safety in the field to complete.”

“Screw you,” you said half-jokingly.

“You wish,” he shot right back.

“You’re damn right I do.”

It was as if there was a shift in the air. You’d spent four months without him and in that moment you had decided you never really wanted to go another second without him. There was still a lot to talk about between the two of you, but for now, all you really wanted to do was kiss him.

Even when the two of you were “seeing” each other, or whatever it was, there wasn’t much physical affection. Aaron always kissed you before dropping you off at night, but it was always short, sweet, and simple. Tonight, you didn’t want short, sweet, and simple as your goodbye kiss.

“You should be getting in. It’s late,” he told you, but neither of you made an effort to move. In fact, it felt like you had only gotten closer. You could feel Aaron’s breath fan your face.

You leaned even closer, your face only inches from his. “You gonna tell me goodnight?”

Aaron never replied, only moving to close the small gap between the two of you, his lips pressing against yours in a way that almost felt desperate.

You were the one to take it a step further as your mouth opened wider and one of your hands slid up to rest on his shoulder. Aaron gladly took the hint. His tongue was in your mouth and before you could process it, one hand had moved to cup your face while the other rested on your thigh.

He pulled back for a moment, but only to mess with something under his seat. You gave him a confused look, still breathing heavily. “What are you doing?”

Aaron’s seat had scooted back further to open more room between him and the steering wheel, and you realized what he was doing now. He simply shrugged. “The console is in the way.”

With that, you laughed and maneuvered yourself across the center console that Aaron seemed to hate at the moment. His hands instinctively grabbed your waist in an attempt to help you move over and onto him – literally.

You took in your current situation for a moment. You were straddling Aaron Hotchner in his car in a parking lot. If you had told yourself earlier in the morning that this is where you would be, you would not have believed it.

His lips were back on yours before you could think about anything else, hands still gripping your waist while yours moved to his hair. You were pressed against him, your chest to his, and left no room between the two of you.

“This okay?” He mumbled as his warm hands snaked underneath your shirt, now resting on your bare hips. He pressed a kiss to your jaw while you nodded, a deep breath leaving your mouth. He smiled against your jaw before reattaching his lips again, but this time to your neck.

You couldn’t think of the last time you felt like this. Your body felt like it was literally on fire, and Aaron’s mouth wasn’t doing anything to extinguish that fire – only making it worse.

As much as you loved the hot, open-mouthed kisses to your neck, you cupped his face, guiding him back up to your lips. Your hands slid to tangle in his hair, earning you a throaty sound from him, which only encouraged you further as you smiled against his lips before going back to kissing him.

Aaron pulled back only a few seconds later, both of you breathing heavily in a hot and flustered state. “As much as I’m enjoying this, we probably shouldn’t get too carried away in here.”

“What? Car sex isn’t on your bucket list?” You joked.

He laughed as you leaned into the hand cupping your face. “You deserve better than a car the first time.”

“So what I’m hearing is car sex after the first time?”

Aaron gave you one of his rare grins, and it lit up your entire world. “You are impossible.”

“I’m just kidding,” you said, giving him a peck on the cheek. “I really should be getting in the bed. My boss is making me come in at eight-thirty tomorrow for a meeting.”

“Oh really? He sounds very smart.”

You playfully rolled your eyes and with the help of Aaron, you moved back over to the passenger seat. “I will see you bright and early in the morning.”

“Looking forward to it.”

You gave him one last kiss before gathering your bag and opening the car door. “Goodnight, Aaron.”

“Goodnight,” he told you.

You shut the door and with a smile on your face, waved to him one last time before making your way towards the entrance of your apartment building.

However, before you could get very far, you heard Aaron’s voice calling your name. You turned around to see him with his window down.

“Did I forget something?” You called to him and watched confusedly as he shook his head.

“Your hair looked fine earlier. You didn’t have to fix it just for me.”

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x y/n #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x you #hotch #i was half asleep when i wrote the second half of this so very sorry for any errors

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kiss-me-muchoo · 8 months

Text

𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐰 || 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one: Love in the time of pastries // part two (this one)

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_ after Miguel stood you up on a date, there’s bad blood. He’s crawling to have your forgiveness, you’re not taking it. Until everything turns into a secret that shocks your Spider Society’s best friends. 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_this is long, age gap (legal), idiots to lovers, secret relationship, angst, fluff, Miguel mandilón, mentions of sex and babies, NO proofread. 𝐀/𝐍_ afterglow and superlove from my playlist<3

♪ ♫ My Miguel O’Hara playlist. ✰ Index (+ fics here)

Whoever was tapping a pen against a binder, was pissing Miguel… heavily.

He was focused to keep looking at the door. You hadn’t come in yet. And you had been out for two days.

When Miguel asked Jess, she said… women stuff.

Even if Miguel denied the gang to be his friends, to his dismay… they had split up.

After the news of the failed date between you and Miguel, there were three sides.

Peter, Pavitr, and Gwen claimed Miguel had made a mistake but deserved another chance. On the other side, Jess, Lyla, and Miles were pretty sure that you were in your whole right to feel hurt and that Miguel should stay away from you.

Finally, the third side; Hobie and Margo. The two individuals were persistent in letting time amend things.

Only that time hadn’t done much in a week.

A lot of spiders are already inside the room.

Jess and Miguel are about to give new announcements and debriefings.

His eyes landed on you. He lacked a spider-sense, but he could hear his own heartbeats thumping on his ears and stomach as you arrived.

You had your suit, but a long dark blue sweatshirt covered half of your body.

Miguel wondered why you were wearing black sunglasses; maybe she was tired, or she thinks she looks bad without makeup, he thinks. Nonsense, she always looks pretty.

Margo is seated beside you, both of you chat and you smile once in a while.

You were trying your best to ignore Miguel. In a matter of a week, you had seen a side of the man you never thought you’d see.

He called your name softly, hoping to get an answer. But it wasn’t the one he desperately needed.

Just a polite reply that seized when you understood it wasn’t related to work.

So you shut his feelings out of your life, it’s for the best.

Things were slightly awkward whenever you had to be around him and your friends. Everyone noticed it. Suddenly you didn’t know how to behave, because things with your friends were okay, but with Miguel were not.

He’s just your boss, nothing else. He never was, is, and would, never be anything related to you besides being your boss.

“Is he looking?” You’d ask Margo. And through her cool mask with a bunch of eyes, she’d shake her head.

“Nah-, oh… he is now” your heart beating faster out of nowhere. The pair of black sunglasses covering your eyes would hide everything.

“Fuck…” you whisper, lowering your head.

“He’s back at talking with Jess” Margo explains. But Peter’s voice makes you forget about Miguel for two seconds.

“What? No Mayday?” you ask in panic. The baby girl was your excuse to avoid Miguel’s gaze.

“Sweet y/n, MJ and I were lucky to make her sleep so easily” She was also your only salvation to keep a sane conversation with your friends. Or else, it would always end with the different opinions everyone had about your current relationship status with Miguel.

“Damn it, Peter. You just ruined my day” you say exaggerating. The man rolls his eyes and Margo is giggling.

“C‘mon, you’ve been in a mood since the… situation with Mig-“

“DONT-… say it” You hurry to pretend to seal Peter’s lips. He shrugs.

“You should forgive him, I’m pretty sure he never meant to “

“Peter, Miguel is not innocent, but only time can heal this…” Margo explained softly. To which Peter rolls his eyes again.

“Time will only set them apart. More than they already are…”

“Yeah, but emotions are not easy and-“ you suddenly hear them, only sinking further into the chair of the room. Which is almost at full capacity now.

“Miguel likes her, y/n likes Miguel…What’s stopping them to-“

“I don’t-“Neither of you two end your sentences, because Jess is demanding silence.

You want to say you don’t like Miguel… but you do. You did since you joined the society. Only that you ignored it because of many factors. And you never thought he would ever look down at you.

But he did, and now you had him constantly begging you.

About the meeting; the go-home machine would change its location, one of the training centers would be refurbished, your bakery would need extra staff and missions would be announced through the gizmos.

Miguel looks at you one last time; you’re giggling with some spiders that get close to talking with you. Peter is there being goofy as usual, and Margo is a good individual.

He’s going towards you, but suddenly someone pulls him from the wrist.

“Don’t go…” Jess says to him.

“Why?” The woman huffs annoyed. Miguel thinks he’s losing time.

“She’s on her period. You don’t wanna mess with her in that state” he’s near the edge of blushing. Of course, he knew about periods, but sometimes he forgot that even you had it once a month.

“Cat got your tongue?” Jess asks playfully.

“What do you want me to say?”

“Maybe you will stop chasing her and let her life like a normal young adult?” Miguel sighed.

When he turned to the door, you were gone.

Of course, he had thought about that. What if he was wrong? Liking you could be dangerous because it was very likely you weren’t even meant to be with him.

And that only made his pain bigger. Just when he had accepted that Gabriella and his late wife could be happy for him.

Still, his heart used to beat ridiculously faster just at the sight of you.

…

There weren’t a lot of bakery tools in the HQ. And you didn’t know how to move around Nueva York. And of course, you wouldn’t ask Miguel to take you on a culinary shopping trip.

So you went home to take a good amount of utensils that might be useful.

The hallways are cleared, good for the pile of bowls, spoons, and spatulas in your arms.

You want to hurry, as Pavitr and Gwen were waiting for you in the Spider’s lounge cabin bakery.

At the end of the meeting, you thought it was better to get yourself busy with the bakery rather than staying home, crying about the cramps and your broken heart.

“Shoot…” you mumble once you have stumbled into someone. Some of the spoons fall all over the floor and you have to bend to get them.

Panic assaults you. The last time you left Pavitr and Gwen in charge, the bakery was full of angry spiders demanding their orders. Cash is being thrown at the teenagers and Pavitr at the verge of tears because of the pressure. You really wanted to hurry up.

“I’m sorry…” you say, only to encounter Miguel, who’s helping you to pick up the spoons.

“It’s okay…” he replies softly, giving you a warm look that you opt for ignoring.

“Listen, y/n…” you look over his broad shoulder, encountering Miles, who was eating an empanada.

“Miles!” The boy turns and you are quick enough to secure all the utensils in your arms before sprinting away from Miguel.

He saw your hands shaking as he spoke. And it only made him sigh tired as you ran away from him. Once again…

That’s when he seriously thought about something.

The canon…

“Lyla?” He asked, and seconds later, the AI appeared beside him.

“Yes?”

“Let’s go to my office. And show me things”. He demanded.

“What thing?” She asked, painting her nails.

“Really?” Miguel was tired of the AI forgetting about all the canon events models.

“Oh. Right…”

…

“Show me y/n’s canon events.” Lyla nodded, all the webs and millions of connections appeared around Miguel.

He had never seen your fate. And to be honest, he was nervous.

But he stood rigid and stoic as usual. Until your red web appeared.

All the brothers you could ever have never survived. Your mother had spontaneous abortions, and the babies would be born sick.

All the friends you ever had, always left you. Misunderstandings, envy, miscommunication.

The only love you ever had, died in your arms. He meant to save you, and you needed to protect him, ending in a traumatic catharsis.

Miguel felt like he was seeing a mirror of himself. He was also meant to be alone. Nobody to pat his shoulder and say everything was going to be fine.

He had a brother who passed away.

He never had friends, always betrayed him.

He had a love, but it wasn’t real.

He had his daughter, probably his true love, but wasn’t real either.

“I told you…” Lyla said.

“What thing?”

“She’s meant to be on her own. And begging her will only break her model. Do you want that, Miguel?” His hands landed on his hips. A clear sign of him being stressed.

“When it’s gonna be my turn to be happy then?” He asked, sounding a little more angry than he intended. Lyla sighed, sad to see Miguel like that.

“Okay, calm down. We haven’t finished seeing her canon events” she said trying to spread some hope.

As your web expanded, Miguel saw more details about you; you were thirteen when you were bitten. You had fallen in love with your Peter Parker but he stayed with MJ. Then, at fifteen, your Harry Osborn came, and… it didn’t end well.

“Oh-, wow. Miguel…” Lyla called him. When he looked at the “future”, his jaw almost dropped.

The last line of your web slowly started to grow, and move around the Arachno-Humanoid-Poly-Multiverse.

He saw you would be a famous chef in your earth and Nueva York. But his heart stopped after that…

“No…” he whispered. Destiny could be cruel, but Miguel never believed it; until your web intertwined with his.

“Then-, ups. Guess she wasn’t meant to be on her own after all” Lyla said, but Miguel never replied. He stood there for around five minutes appreciating what just happened.

Suddenly Miguel feels he has a personal purpose.

He’s not sure how two people from different universes could be together. Maybe it was fate beating canon for once.

He’s able to have someone by his side again.

Knowing that it was you; it made him happy. And for the first time in a very long time, Miguel was ready to love again. He didn’t have to think twice, to think if it was correct or not.

“Do not tell y/n” he said to Lyla. The AI nodded.

“Actually, do not tell anyone” Miguel stated, walking out of his own office.

…

It’s 10:40pm and you’re slightly sweating. Your window is open and the air barely soothes the heat.

The module of literature class of the week was so close to being done. You wanted a free weekend to rot in your house while your parents worked.

With the earphones on and loud music playing, you don’t see some pair of your shoes and boxes levitating.

Only the bright portal opening in front of your dresser was enough to make you turn.

You weren’t expecting anyone; you had scheduled a sleepover with Gwen and Margo in about three weeks.

But oh surprise; it was Miguel fucking O’Hara entering your room.

“Miguel?…” Your anxiety levels went up, and you ran to throw your earphones on the bed and close the door of your room.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?” You whisper-yell to him. His mask never showed any emotions, like him.

Miguel inspects your room shamelessly.

Too many books, perfumes, figures, and toys.

Unexpectedly, he found everything so interesting. Nueva York was all about the future, but here, with you… it felt homely.

“You’re lucky my parents are asleep” Since they claimed the master bedroom was too hot in summer, your parents sleep in the living room with a fan at maximum capacity.

“Oh really?” He mocks, chuckling under the mask.

You look so small and cute in a lavender shirt and pajama set. Wet hair that slowly is turning into curls and bare feet.

“Why are you here?” You ask once again, growing angry. Miguel had never ever been in your house, not even in your neighborhood.

Even if you were shocked, you hadn’t forgiven him.

“I’m not giving up. We need to talk…” After some days, you knew it would be hard to get rid of him. So if there was no turning back, you should listen. Just, maybe…

“God, you just forgot about the fucking date. It didn’t work out, just leave it” You spit as if it was a platitude.

“No. You know it’s more than that, y/n” Miguel was a man of word. And everyone knew that, so yeah… probably he wasn’t lying about liking you.

“Okay. Talk, but say it straight to my face. No mask…” he liked your words.

The mask disappeared, and as always, you weren’t ready to encounter his face.

The first seconds pass with you and him staring at each other.

Hopefully, you two would solve your problems just by looking. It wasn’t the case though…

“Can you hear my heartbeat?” He asks lowly. You are staring at his chest, probably his ribs. Because if you look straight, that’s what you see.

Until you raise your head again, to tremble because of his eyes.

You can hear his heartbeat, almost see the dopamine.

“Are you nervous?” You answer with another question. He smirks, face coming closer to you.

“No. I’m-…falling in love” your eyes shut closed. Your mind, is blank, even when your heart screams the reason you already know.

You’re falling in love too.

“No…Miguel-, you can’t because-“

“Chiquita, cállate. Por favor…” he moves, looking at your room once again.

The more he looked at your belongings, the more he was fascinated by you.

“Can I?…” you nod as he asked permission to seat on the edge of your bed. But soon your exaggeration invaded.

“WAIT!. Just-… Not with the suit on” he chuckled, noticing you were embarrassed to ask him to take off his suit.

He nods, giving a barely visible smile.

“I’ll turn around” you state, looking at your own image in the mirror.

By accident, you looked to the north, encountering Miguel’s back.

His suit was disintegrating; he was naked.

OH GOD-…

You could see his strong back. His light cinnamon skin and perfect muscles.

But as your eyes traveled across his back, your eyes landed on his ass; also naked.

Soon you remembered, he was naked. And all of the situation was happening just in seconds. Your only getaway was closing your eyes.

“You can turn now…” now in normal clothes, he had a hoodie and sweatpants. Making him look beyond desirable. And you hate yourself for thinking that way just after seeing his back… naked.

“What you’re feeling is not foreign to me, y/n,” he said, finally seating on your bed. He looks massive, yet soft. His hands holding the edge of your mattress, and he seems to be inspecting your notes displayed on the bed.

“Loving someone can be dangerous. Especially when you know you’re meant to be alone” The fact that he accepted canon wanted him alone made you feel sorry for him. But it also caused a sting in your heart, since were meant to live the same way.

“Because as much as we try to live the life we desire, we only cause chaos”

“Stop-“ you warn him. Scared to reach the subject of your Harry.

“I’m in your canon events.” In the beginning, you don’t believe him. But quickly, he’s pressing some things on his gizmo.

A quick glance at your canon events; your unborn siblings, friends betraying you, becoming Spider woman, losing Harry, having depression and surviving it, getting injured because of the Spot, and being together with Miguel. In a romantic way…

The man regrets showing you everything so suddenly because he watches you wipe your eyes with the back of your hand.

“Since when did you know about this?” You asked coming closer to him. He can see for the first time the tons of moles covering you, your lashes, and clean eyebrows. God, she’s so pretty.

“Yesterday. Lyla showed me” You nod, sighing.

He’s taken aback when you come to stand between his tights, hands grabbing his shoulders and getting painfully close to his face.

“Miguel. Every time I’ve fallen in love, it never ends well, cause-“

“Can you tell the same about me?” The trauma of losing his family was more than enough to understand him. But you’re still very scared, of losing him this time.

“I’m not gonna be able to handle a second time being stood up”

“We’re not talking about the theater anymore. Are we?” You smile, shaking your head.

“I don’t want to lose you too, Miguel”

“But you won’t. I’ll always come back… for you” Nobody would ever believe what was happening. Miles, Jess, and Lyla would be disappointed with what you were about to do.

“What about our dates? Is it going to be a thing of you to never show up?” He sighed in relief, smiling proudly.

“It was an emergency. I had to “

“Save the universe. Yeah, I know.” You interrupt him with another smile.

Again. You are just staring at each other like idiots. You don’t even remember he’s in your house. You’re in pajamas and it's the end of the summer.

“So you’re one of my canon events” he nods, confirming the news to you.

“Are we good? Are you ready for this?” His question makes you blush.

“Maybe? Yeah… I think so” Now you are free to caress his wide shoulders. He closes his eyes because it relaxed him.

“I’m sorry for the date, chiquita” You nod.

“With the news, the date is so long in the past”

“I’ll make it up to you. Now, it’s a promise” he can’t lie again. Not when canon is blessing your possible relationship with him.

You look at his lips, and the desire for him comes again.

“I’m gonna kiss you now…” you say, leaning closer. He’s eager for whatever you’re about to give him. Cause he was pleased just by you looking at him.

“Kiss me…” he accepts.

So you do it. Slowly, you melt your lips with his in a sweet kiss. His lips are soft, and his hands grasp your hips, moving you closer to him.

Probably two minutes into kissing, you start giggling.

“What?” Miguel asks on your lips.

“We can’t tell the others. Not yet…”

“I’d like to be your secret boyfriend,” he says.

“Boyfriend?” Your arched brow makes him blush.

“Well…”

“My soon-to-be boyfriend” you correct him, brushing his hair, and noticing how soft it is.

For the first time, Miguel is not afraid of showing emotions. He isn’t afraid of love anymore.

…

It’s funny, sweet, and goofy how you have to hide your new relationship with Miguel.

“Why were helping Miguel so late now?” Jess asks suspiciously.

Now, you stayed with Miguel doing everything and nothing. Mainly talking while organizing anomalies that needed to be sent home.

“I’m a coding girl. I’m being useful” You know Jess doesn’t believe you.

“I thought you were avoiding him”

“It’s been a month since that, Jess. I’m a mature woman” she giggles.

“In that case, that doesn’t explain why he was at your house the other night”

“What?”

“Gwen. You were having a sleepover and Miguel appeared out of nowhere” You roll your eyes.

“I forgot my mask, dear”

“Girl, if you’re lying to me-“

Miguel calls from your gizmo. You smile happily.

“I need help over here” he’s fighting a Mysterio on Penni’s universe. You know a date after the fight was granted.

“Duty calls…” you say to Jess.

As soon as you turn left, your gizmo is on again, calling Miguel.

“Do you still need help?”

“Not really, bonita. But what about a quick shower and we head to dinner?” You smile again.

“Sounds interesting”

“Te amo mucho, chiquita”

“Yo más, corazón” you reply feeling all the love in your chest.

Certainly, you were living a fever dream. Miguel O’Hara was your boyfriend.

“No. Yo más…”

“No-“

“Okay, enough. You, humans, get so obsessed with loving and all of that…” Lyla says appearing in your left shoulder.

“Are the hallways clear?” You ask her.

“Yep. Clear and free”

You open a portal, and since nobody can see, you head to Miguel’s place in Nueva York.

Jess saw Lyla talking to you. And she’s not convinced. And she knows who should receive an intervention.

…

Lyla was painting her nails when she was attacked by the most annoying gang; Hobie, Gwen, Peter, Miles, Mayday, and even Jess by their side.

“We deserve an explanation,” Peter says.

“Woah. What are you talking about? The AI asks.

“Miguel and y/n. Are they together?” Gwen asks now.

Lyla sighs, the little desk beside her disappearing as she descended to the gang.

“Miguel was very clear to keep his private life… private”

“So are they together or not?” Hobie asks, crossing his arms. As usual, the icebreaker was straight to the point.

“As Miguel’s second hand I-“

Someone called; Miguel of course.

“Lyla, archive today's reports and turn off the machine in my lab, please,” he says before shutting down the communication.

“Wow, he said please” Lyla points out.

“Look, location says… Tacos varios?” Miles asks with terrible Spanish pronunciation.

“It’s here in Nueva York,” Peter says excitedly, making Mayday giggle and shooting webs to nowhere.

“Let’s go!” Gwen says confidently.

Lyla only rolls his eyes.

“Crap…” she says.

“I knew you were aware of this” Jess points at the AI.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” Lyla replies pretending to be cleaning her heart-shaped glasses.

…

Miguel knows you’re not listening to him. You are distracted by the smell of tacos.

“Did you hear anything I said, hermosa?”

“Hmm?” You ask looking at another couple eating an order of tacos al pastor. The pineapple slices look so juicy, and the beef looked so fresh. Your mouth was watering.

“I said if you wanted an agua fresca”

“Oh yeah. Horchata, please. We can share if you want to” he nods, standing up.

The place was humble and comfortable, even with the line of people waiting outside.

Even with the group of spiders in disguise looking from another table. Yeah, they followed you and Miguel.

“This food is so good,” peter said with his mouth full.

“Peter, don’t talk with your mouth full” the man shrugs as he looks at his baby in Jess’s arms.

“They look… friendly,” Miles says.

“Friendly, huh?” Hobie hints at something else. No one notices.

Miguel comes back with two plates; your tacos a vapor and his mulitas. A big cup of agua de horchata too, which looks small in his hand even when the cup was the biggest in the restaurant.

“Do you like onions?” your boyfriend asked you.

“I do. But I’d rather not eat today, or else… no kisses for you” Miguel rolls his eyes, chuckling.

Everything was fine. You were amazing and he felt happy again.

“Fair enough…”

“Oh, hey…uhm-. My parents are going out for the weekend. Do you wanna stay with me?” You were nervous about the question. Since the relationship was new, you didn’t want to push anything.

“I could stay with you…” neither of you was suggesting sex because neither of you needed to know you were in love with each other.

“Great. We can make dinner, bake something together, and watch movies. I can show you my books while we do skincare” Again, he rolled his eyes.

But he could only think one thing; I love my silly girlfriend.

“I don’t do skincare,” he said eating his mulita.

“Don’t worry, I don’t make it annoying…” you don’t want to finish your food because you’ll likely get another order and you didn’t want to get bloated. Not during an amazing date.

“I trust you, bonita” you giggled.

The spider group was getting impatient, all you did with Miguel was talking and laughing. Jess pointed out that Miguel never shared his food, but now, he was sharing his beverage with you.

“That’s weird,” she said, but nobody was listening since Peter ordered another order of tacos de canasta. Jess only rolled her eyes and started seeing what else happened.

“Oh look, they’re going out” Hobie was so fixated on his taco that he didn’t even hear what Gwen said.

You dumped the trash and Miguel waited for you at the entrance to get out.

You took his hand and it felt so right. His fingers responded and intertwined with yours.

“What now?” He asked.

“Dunno, Is there space for something sweet on your stomach?” Miguel smirked. Of course, you would want something sweet.

“There’s a bakery at the end of the avenue” Smiling, you nodded to him.

Unbeknownst to you and your boyfriend, you’re being followed by the nosy spider gang.

“I’m going home… I bet they’re dating and… at the end, I’m happy for them” Jess said.

“Are you leaving? Really?” Peter accused her.

“I miss my baby and man. Bye…” and with that, she opened a portal and left.

The bakery Miguel mentioned was at full capacity. A little line to get inside and the order was visible.

“Get in the line. I’ll get something for you” you nod confused. Miguel leaves and it’s impossible to lose him as his broad and tall figures move across the crowd of Nueva York.

You have an eye on the piles of cannolis and cheesecakes. Miguel paid for the food, which you would spend on dessert.

You remember your debit card doesn’t exist in Nueva York, but you had some cash valid on earth- 929.

Without seeing him, you know Miguel is back with you. He kissed your head before wrapping his arms around you, and a little bouquet of poppies in front of your appeared.

“Miguel!” He chuckles, kissing your head once again.

“I wanted to give you flowers since the first time”

“These are beautiful. Thanks, mi amor” You turn to grab the bouquet and kiss him deeply. Miguel found himself surprised to see how fast he had changed.

He deepens the kiss, some people in the line might send judgmental looks at him and you. But he doesn’t care.

He’s lost on your lips, concentrated on making you feel loved and happy.

Until he listened a well-known voice.

“Thank god you two are here” Miguel and you stop kissing only to meet Lyla.

“Lyla? What are you doing here” you ask looking at the little AI. Miguel must be feeling so angry. He was always very clear to not be bothered on his free day, except in case of a real big emergency.

“Why are you here? I’ve been strictly clear about-“

“I’m sorry. I accidentally showed your location when you called and the kids heard and-“

“I KNEW IT!” You’re not understanding anything. Miguel huff annoyed and rolls his eyes at the sight of his least favorite coworkers.

“All of you! Ugh-…” your boyfriend starts, pointing at Lyla, Hobie, Peter, Mayday, Gwen, and Miles.

“Me tienen hasta la madre. What are you doing here?” Suddenly there’s only one person left after you to buy a treat. You are so confused and Miguel already is thinking of ways to apologize for another half-failed date.

“You’re dating, right?” Gwen asks covering her mouth and smiling along with Miles.

“You two have to be dating. The hands holding, sharing drinks, and that kiss. Wow, you looked so adorable holding her cheek” You’re blushing, Miguel is at the edge of being flustered.

“Peter. Shut up…” Lyla warns Peter.

“Yeah. We’re dating…We just wanted to keep it private… for a little” You can’t help to laugh when everyone starts cheering.

“But…How? After the theater thing we thought-“

“Miguel is in my canon events,” you say before entering the shop and leaving everyone in shock.

Your boyfriend only stares there, awkwardly.

“Tell Jess, I can’t believe this!” Peter yelled at Lyla, who was very nervous wondering how was Miguel.

The 6’9 foot tall man wanted to activate his suit, grab you by the waist and get you out of his earth and take you to your beautiful house.

You are paying for a little box of sweets, and he can’t wait for you to get out.

“This is amazing. I’m so happy for you” Peter pressures Miguel, smiling and caressing his shoulder.

“You two already have plans or what?…” Hobie asks for the first time.

Miguel sends him a bad look, and thankfully, you’re out. Standing beside Miguel to hug his arm.

“We’re going slow, guys. But yeah, canon indicates it’s safe for us to be together” Your touch is what is keeping him from yelling at some teenagers and an adult once again.

“Oh yeah, canon indicates that… in about 18 months, a baby could pop in from these two” Lyla spills like nothing.

“WHAT?” you basically scream in the middle of the street.

Miguel’s eyes only widened before he exchanged flustered looks with you.

A baby? In a year and a half? No way.

“Oh-, ups. I didn’t show you that part” the AI said to Miguel.

He looked Lyla like wanted to kill her. Which made the little AI disappear immediately.

A long conversation with would happen eventually.

“Well, congratulations,” Miles says giving you a hug. You accept it, but you’re still in shock.

“Mystery solved. Can we go home now?” Hobie asks sarcastically.

Miguel agrees with Hobie for the first time.

After some awkward goodbyes, you are alone with Miguel again.

“That was weird but funny. Don’t be too harsh on them on Monday, please” he sighs, following back to his place.

“They can’t simply invade our privacy and walk out like nothing, y/n”

“Well yeah, but… They are our friends and they mean well”

“Correction. They are your friends” he says opening the door of his building for you. Is a futuristic apartment complex. And Miguel owns the biggest of course.

“Deny it as much as you want, but they are our friends” Miguel shrugs.

You already have a lot of things in his place. Your parents didn’t know yet. They would likely disapprove but easily get used to it. Especially since Miguel is the best boyfriend.

And in a month, he had convinced you to love so hard again.

“Chiquita, I want this weekend to be just about us. Can we?” You nod, taking your slippers and going straight to wash your hands. He watches you put the flowers in a cup, it makes him feel like he’s achieving domesticity with you. Miguel gets some forks and plates for the pastries you bought. And soon, you are snuggling on the couch with the pastries and glasses of white wine.

“What do you think about Lyla and what she said?” You were dying to know. But too scared to actually find out.

“She’s not lying. And… if that’s our future, I’ll be happy” There’s a lot to know about each other, but you like how everything was developing.

“All those fears of being alone or losing you are over. I have you and whatever it is, it’s gonna be fine”

“Ay, Miguel. Te amo tanto, corazón” he smiles, leaning to leave his plate on the little table of the living room.

“Yo mas, mi vida” Whoever you two were in the past was gone.

These new versions were eager to be lovers.

_____________________________________________

+Next fics are_ reputation (Miguel’s version) fic and the long time waited hurt me it’s okay part two

Taglist: @deputy-videogamer @poppyflower-22 @ggwonderwoman @bruhhhhhh1234 @seasonofthenerd @g0oshtt @luvrrish @docs-dani @irongardenermaker @berlinswifey @hobiseightbracelet @corpsebridenightamare @asmi-bae @love4saturn @yellooaaa @currentlyinflames @sukjko @carmilla01 @ladyrosemone @wilmontana987

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel spiderman #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel spiderverse #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse

1K notes · View notes

hp-hcs · 5 months

Note

Could I request some Yan poly Theo and Mattheo x male reader please?

Where he is an animagus that can turn into a cat just like McGonagal.

Where he goes to them in his cat form for cuddles and scratches and stuff because he’s touch starved, but what the reader doesn’t know is that they know who he is and that he’s not a normal cat, and the reason everyone’s been avoiding him both in his cat form and human form is because they’ve made everyone besides him know that he’s theirs and threaten them. Just the usual possessive Yan behaviour from the duo. Maybe they buy him a collar or something in his cat form and he gets all embarrassed because he doesn’t know that they know he’s a human and just has to wear it when he’s a cat-??

I’m so sorry if it’s too detailed

um, obsessed???

also i tweaked the ending you asked for just a little bit cause i never know how to end fics 🫠

i genuinely despise this. fully anticipate me just deleting this and starting over.

also please never apologize for too much detail it literally makes writing these so much easier and faster

requests? 🥺🤲

“He is, most of all, l'amor che move il sole e l'altre stelle.” — Yandere! Theodore Nott x Animagus! Sirius’ son! Reader x Yandere! Mattheo Riddle

warnings: very mild—mostly implied—yandere possessive/violent stuff

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Ah, Mr. Black. Lovely for you to join us.”

You cringed, hastily smoothing down your hair in an attempt to look like you hadn’t just woken up.

Snape gave you a stern look. “Very well. Now that you’ve elected to make your presence, perhaps Mr. Black can tell us what asphodel is?”

You flushed at the way your professor put you on the spot; the way all of your classmate's eyes were on you.

“U-uh, it’s a flower. It’s supposed to grow in the Elysian fields in the Greek underworld…?” You trailed off uncertainly.

Snape’s lips thinned, a sign that you were correct. “We have a new seating chart—a fact you might’ve known if you’d shown up on time. Over there. Quickly.”

You scurried over to the table he indicated, sitting down in the empty chair between two Slytherin boys.

The boy on your right gave you a sympathetic look, waiting until Snape turned to continue writing on the board before leaning over and whispering to you.

“We’re doing a project in pairs, but me an’ my friend Theo here said we’d add you in ours to make a group of three. Snape wanted you to work with Longbottom.”

The boy on your left—Theo, you presumed—leaned in to whisper, “Yeah, we wouldn’t wish that upon anyone. ‘specially not a pretty thing like you.”

You blushed at the flattering name, whispering back, “Longbottom? Merlin- thank you.”

He grinned brightly, seemingly pleased at your willingness to hold a conversation with him, if the gentle flush of his cheeks was any indication.

The boy on your right tugged at your sleeve with a charming smile. “That’s Theodore Nott, by the way. And I’m Mattheo Riddle, darlin’.”

~~~

“Well, I think we’re just about finished,” Theodore mused, sitting up from where he’d been leaning over your group’s poster board. “Think we used enough glitter?”

“No such thing as enough glitter.”

You laughed at the two boys’ antics as the three of you sat on the floor of their dorm room. They had a good rapport with each other, one that you fit easily into. There was no real awkwardness as you all joked with each other. You actually felt like you belonged, like you’d been a part of their pair for years.

It was a nice thought.

“Well, if we’re finished, then I desperately need to go to the library,” you sighed. “Flitwick assigned twenty inches on the difference between the Conservo and the Protego charms.”

The two groaned in sympathy.

“Good luck,” Mattheo shook his head, resting his hand on your knee.

You’d noticed that both boys were extremely touchy. They always seemed to be accidentally brushing hands with you, peering over your shoulder to look at the poster, and finding any excuse to rest their hands somewhere on your body.

You nodded your thanks, putting away your personal reading book, your glitter quills, and your googly eye stickers that you as a group had had far too much fun with.

“See you guys around!”

~~~

“Woah- Here, kitty kitty kitty!”

You blinked sleepily, annoyed at whomever was disrupting your nap by the warm common room fireplace.

Two blurry, vaguely boy-shaped blobs plopped down on the floor by you, one of the blobs’ bags spilling out its contents all over the floor. You swatted lazily at a feather quill that rolled to a stop beside you on the rug, quickly losing interest and yawning.

“Whose cat is this?” The shorter one—the one whose bag had dumped parchment and jellybeans all over the floor—asked, suddenly scratching the top of your head.

You froze, an unfamiliar rumble rising from your throat at the odd sensation.

You were purring.

If you were human right now, you were sure your skin would be prickling from the stranger’s gentle touch.

Gentle touch had always been uncommon for you. Your family was odd and disjointed. You grew up without a father, raised only by grumpy paintings and a sour house elf.

And once he returned, on a the back of a winged marvel, with stories of rats and traitors and time, his overjoyed smile had faltered when he learned you wore green and not red. His now ever-present pinched look of poorly hidden disappointment whenever he looked at you, paired with your god-cousin’s short and stiff hugs and forced smiles, you felt like an outsider in your own home.

“Virgil!”

The strangers startled you out of your reverie. Your ears flattened back, but the taller one just pet your head softly. The short one crossed its arms, shaking its head vehemently.

“No, dude. Why the fuck would you name our cat that?”

“Cause of the book? Dante’s Inferno?” The taller one pointed at one of your abandoned books lying on the rug, most of the stack on Charms subjects, except for that one. You must’ve fallen asleep while reading it, and changed into a cat at some point during your nap.

“Nerd.”

“Just because you don’t ever read, Riddle-”

You perked up at the familiar name. Blinking away sleep, the two blobs- boys come into better focus.

They’re your fucking group mates.

Fucking Circe.

Theo goes back to petting your head, his steady pets prompting you to instinctively push your head up against his palm to demand more.

“Oh- hi Vee,” he laughed, moving his hand further down to stroke along your spine.

“Wh- We’re not calling it that.”

~~~

They ended up calling you that.

They visited the library after school every day now, where sure enough, you’d always be sitting by the fire or sprawled out on the couch.

Some days, they brought extra friends. On those days, you’d always squawk and wind between your boys’ ankles to get their attention when they got too engrossed in a conversation, like an adorable, jealous tripping hazard.

And after you’d turned in your project, you had also remained friends with them as a human. You now lit up every time you saw them in the halls or the common room, and they always grinned whenever they saw you.

It was nice.

~~~ “Hel- oh.”

You watched as your History of Magic table mate, a usually kind and friendly Hufflepuff girl, scrambled out of her seat to sit elsewhere as soon as you set your bag down. You stared after her in shock.

What had you done to warrant that?

As you stared after her, you finally became aware that your classmates around you were staring at you with a mixture of curiosity and fear.

Everyone avoided the seat next to you like the plague.

You sat alone that class.

~~~

You set your textbook down on your desk, sitting down heavily in your chair.

Today had been awful. Nobody dared come near you in any of your classes, like you were a leper or something. You ate lunch alone, walked to class alone… you just hoped Potions, as your last class of the day, would pass quickly.

“Hello, lovely,” Mattheo greeted warmly, the corners of his eyes crinkling up as he sat down beside you—the first person to do so all day. “How are you this fine afternoon?”

You rolled your eyes grumpily, steadfastly ignoring him as you doodled on your parchment.

You suddenly felt fingers underneath your chin, lifting your head up until your eyes met Mattheo’s.

“He asked you a question, doll,” Theodore breathed into your ear from behind you. “Answer.”

You shivered at his tone and firm behavior, blushing despite yourself. “‘m- ‘m fine.”

“Good boy,” Mattheo sighed, patting your cheek patronizingly. “Was that really so hard?”

Your cheeks flush immediately at the name, as you remain a bit confused as to their sudden changes in personality.

Where were the lovably awkward pair of dorks that you usually hung out with, both as a human and as a cat? (Although, you supposed, they didn’t know about the latter.)

Maybe you were wrong about them?

~~~

You weren’t wrong about them.

You leaned against the side of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, watching interesting passerby on the street as you waited for your god-cousin, Harry, to return back outside.

You were so focused on people-watching, imagining backstories for everyone, (especially the creepy Gryffindor who liked to hit on you no matter how many times you said no: Cormac McLaggen. The boy had practically sprinted away as soon as he caught sight of you leaning against the wall. Odd that he also had a black eye and a busted nose) that you were completely startled by arms wrapping around you from behind.

You jumped, but relaxed a bit when they put their chin on your shoulder and whispered into your ear, “It’s Mattheo, doll. Calm down.”

“You just scared the shit outta me. Tellin’ me to calm down,” you roll your eyes. “What do you want?”

“Go out with me.”

“What?”

“M-me. And Theo. Both. Yeah?”

“Wow. Smooth, dude. Real master of words, aren’t you?” A new voice chimed in sarcastically.

You spun around at the arrival of a second person, relaxing when you saw that it was just Theo.

“What Matty is trying to ask is, will you go out with us?”

You gape at them.

“Both of you?”

“Ideally, yes.”

You blink at them, eyes wide.

Mattheo shifts nervously.

“Sure.”

Theodore blinks, like he wasn’t expecting that answer. “Sure? Like- like yes you will?”

“Yeah.”

The two boys exchange a rather disbelieving, giddy look.

“Uh, how does the Three Broomsticks at seven tonight sound?”

“Works for me,” you shrug, a pleased smile slowly creeping onto your face.

“Oh! Here. We- we got this for you. In case you said yes,” Mattheo digs through his pockets, pulling out a small, rectangular box, like the kind that watches come in. “But, you have to promise you’ll wait to get back to your dorm room before you open it.”

You laugh, shrugging. “Okay, sure. I promise.”

Theo narrows his eyes at you before sticking out his pinky finger. “Pinky promise?”

You laugh again at the way his serious look contrasts with his childish request, obliging and wrapping your pinky around his. “Pinky promise.”

~~~

You shut your dorm door behind you, dropping your bag on the floor and collapsing onto your bed. You, true to your word, waited to open the box, pulling it out of your pocket only just now.

It was small, simple gift box, with a scrap of folded parchment taped to the top.

Y/N –

Thought you might like this. We’d love to see you wear it on our date.

– MR & TN

You raise your eyebrows, setting the note aside and lifting the lid, unsure of what to expect.

You were not expecting there to be a blue cat collar inside, the dangling metal tag reading:

Virgil

If lost, return to either

Theo Nott or Mattheo Riddle

#harry potter #fuck jkr #hp #hp x male reader #x male reader #x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theo nott #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x male reader #mattheoxreader

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moonstruckme · 7 months

Note

Hey love! How are you? I hope everything is well. Could I request a fluffy fic where the reader is sick and the marauders dote all over her? I have been sick the past couple of days with high fever and I am in desperate need to be taken care of lol. It doesnt matter if it is a poly!marauders or one of the boys. You can choose whichever you are in the mood for. Thanks in advance <3

Hi sweetheart, I'm good, thanks! I'm sorry to hear you're unwell :( Soooooo relatable, basically all I do when I'm sick is fantasize about someone taking care of me. I've been dying to write a roomate!James fic so I took this in that direction, hope that's okay. Thank you for requesting and I hope you feel better soon lovely!

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words

James listens as the door to your room opens and closes again, his unease mounting.

You’re typically quiet, but lately you’ve been quieter than usual. Normally, James can count on at least seeing you in passing, or hearing your comings and goings signaled by the ridiculously harsh creaking of the front door. You sometimes play soft music while you cook, or have a friend over to chat in your room, or listen to a podcast while you get ready in the morning.

For the last few days, there’s been none of that. If it weren’t for the occasional sound of your bedroom door and your key still on its hook in the entryway, James might think you’d moved out.

He’s been walking past your door more often today, curious and a bit concerned at what’s keeping you confined in there. Though he knows he should be more ashamed of his eavesdropping, who else is responsible for making sure you’re okay if not your roommate? Anyway, if one day he finds you dead in your bedroom, “I was trying to mind my own business” isn’t going to make a very good excuse.

When he goes by on his fourth unnecessary trip to the kitchen that afternoon, James is stopped by the startling noise of rapid-fire sneezes from behind your closed door. He’s knocking before he can second-guess himself. “Hey, you alright in there?”

There’s a great snuffling sound, and then, “Yeah, thanks,” your voice muffled.

James hesitates. He’s not sure what your definition of “alright” might be, but he doesn’t feel right going about his day when you’ve locked yourself away and are acting so strange. “Can I come in?”

“No.”

Well, that’s about as much confirmation that you’re not alright as he needs. “Are you decent?”

“I—yeah, but James—”

He cracks the door, sticking his head in just as you dive beneath the covers of your bed. The floor is covered in tissues and wrappers of some sort, dirty dishes stacked on your desk. The room actually smells like sickness, likely a result of your being in here without opening a door or window for days.

“James, please go.” Your voice is muffled by the covers, but now James can hear how congested it sounds. “I don’t want to get you sick.”

“We’re roommates, love,” he says, taking a few tentative steps toward you. “Whatever you have, I’m gonna get it eventually.”

You sneeze, your form tensing under the covers. “Not if I stay in here and you stay out there,” you insist nasally.

James crouches by your bed, careful to avoid the tissues and what he now sees are cough drop wrappers. He tugs at your sheets until you release them, pulling them down to reveal your very flushed, very displeased face. James can’t help it; his eyebrows come together and his bottom lip juts out in pity, and your glare intensifies.

Of course, it’s hard to appear very intimidating when your nose is twitching as you fight off another sneeze. After a moment you give in, pressing a tissue under your nose as your shoulders hitch. James winces in sympathy.

“How long have you been like this?” he asks, taking advantage of your distraction to touch the back of his hand to your forehead. He’s not surprised to find it warm, but the intensity of the heat that meets his hand has him inhaling sharply. He presses his palm to your cheek to be sure, but it’s the same. “Merlin, you’re burning up.”

“S’not that bad,” you say, though your next sniffle undermines the claim.

James brushes a sweaty strand of hair from your forehead, worrying his lip. “Seems pretty bad, love. I think we ought to get you to a doctor. You shouldn’t be this warm.”

You’re shaking your head before he’s finished speaking. “James, no. I want to stay here, at home.” You pull your blankets closer about your shoulders protectively. “I don’t want to sit in some freezing waiting room for hours just so they can tell me I have a cold.”

James looks at you for a moment. Your clammy forehead, your poor pinkened nose. A tiny shiver takes you, making you burrow under the blankets until just your pleading eyes are peeking out at him, and that’s what softens him to your cause. “Alright,” he sighs, “but then you need to let me take care of you.”

“But—”

“I don’t care about getting sick,” he cuts you off, leveling you with his sternest look. It’s not very well-practiced, but it does the trick, and you settle down. “You let me help, or I’ll take you to someone who will.”

You look resentful at being given an ultimatum, but nod.

“Great.” James grins, his usual affability returned. “Now when was the last time you ate?”

From that moment on, you’re on strict bed rest. James cancels his plans with Remus and Sirius for that night, both of them sending wishes that you start to feel better soon, and a call to his mum grants him access to her recipe for “get well soup.” You don’t have an appetite, but James coaxes you into eating a few spoonfuls, and the warm sensation in your throat proves too soothing to let a silly thing like appetite prevent you from finishing the bowl. James cleans your room as you eat, ignoring your protests and embarrassed groaning as he puts your tissues and wrappers into a bin, placing it beside your bed for easier access when you need it. Then, he gives you a steaming bowl of water, making you sit with a towel over your head in your own personal sauna. You complain about feeling disgusting as your sinuses empty themselves out, but admit to breathing a bit easier once it’s done. Soon you’re feeling well enough to sit up, propping yourself up on a few pillows with a full stomach and slightly clearer nasal passages while James takes your temperature with the thermometer he’d run to get from the corner store.

“Can’t believe we didn’t have one of these,” he mutters as he holds it in your ear. “One of us was bound to get ill eventually, it’s a miracle it’s taken this long.” You hum, your eyes trained on the inside of James’ forearm. It hasn’t escaped his notice that you’ve been looking at him more today than you ever have before; he supposes he owes that to the glaze of fever he can still detect in your eyes. James would never embarrass you by mentioning it, but the warmth of your gaze is nice, and he’s glad you’re not sharp enough at the moment to notice he’s as flushed as you. The thermometer beeps, and he pulls away, the tension in his brow relaxing a bit as he reads the number. “Well, it’s not nothing, but it seems lower than earlier.” He feels at your forehead again, nodding to himself. “Yeah, definitely lower.” James leaves his hand on your face a tenth of a second too long, and your eyes raise to his.

“That’s good,” you say, giving him a small smile. He returns it heartily. “I feel better, thanks.”

“Yeah?” he asks, his smile falling away when you give a small sneeze and then wince. “You sure, love? Is your head still hurting you?”

“It’s not as bad,” you sniffle, grabbing a tissue to wipe your nose. “I really think all this is helping, James, thank you. Sorry you have to be around me when I’m so gross.”

“You’re not gross, you’re lovely,” he says dismissively, moving the box of tissues closer to you when you reach for it again. “You’re incapable of being anything but lovely.”

You actually snort, the sound loud and wet. “Yeah, okay. Whatever you say.”

“I do say,” James insists. “And I’m the only one here not delirious with fever, so I think that makes mine the final opinion.”

Your cheeks get impossibly pinker, almost matching the hue of your nose, but your smile rivals James’ own. “Well, anyway, thanks for taking care of me. I really appreciate it.”

James doesn’t bother to pretend he’s feeling for a fever this time, placing a hand on your cheek and rubbing at the skin under your eye affectionately. He thinks his heart actually turns to mush when you lean into the touch. “No thanks necessary, sweetheart. Happy to do it any time.”

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ghost-proofbaby · 7 months

Text

SO SCARLET (IT WAS MAROON)

CHAPTER THREE: ALL TOO WELL

AND I KNOW IT'S LONG GONE AND THERE WAS NOTHING ELSE I COULD DO, AND I FORGET ABOUT YOU LONG ENOUGH TO FORGET WHY I NEEDED TO.

☆ pairings: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader

☆ warnings: no use of y/n, strong language, angst, description of panic attack, minors dni

☆ WC: 5.7K+

☆ A/N: it'll be a short fic, i said. short and sweet and simple, i lied to myself.

thank you to my love @hellfire--cult for the divider!

masterlist

The moment your name leaves his lips, you swear the world halts on its rotation.

This was real. Every fear and every anxiety you had wrestled with over the last twenty four hours wasn’t for naught – he was here, sitting before you, breathing your name out like a sigh of relief when all you felt was pain. Stabbing, radiating pain. It’s even worse than looking at pictures and headlines of a stranger on a phone screen. Something about him suddenly being tangible, suddenly being real, sends you reeling.

Lydia looks wildly between your showdown with the ghost of a man before you, “I’m sorry… Do you two- do you know each other?”

Not anymore.

“I-” you choke on your stutter. You’re frozen under his stare, going ashen as your head spins. Leave the room. Think of an excuse, get out of this room, run away. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

It’s the world’s most pathetic excuse, but the only thing you can spit out before you’re turning heel and running, just as your body had so desperately craved. You nearly bump into one of the security guards you’d just bravely had a confrontation with.

They’d demanded your phone, you had put up a fight. You had stood your ground. Had held your chin high, dared them to push further even once they had your cell phone in their grasp, and displayed all that self-assuredness you had curated in the last two years. Only to end up scampering past them like a wounded animal mere seconds later.

Pathetic.

Lydia calls out something after you, but it reaches deaf ears as you blaze down the hallway. Your chest is squeezing, as if someone had wrapped it in shrink-wrap and sucked all of the air right out of it, swathed so tightly you could feel every pounding beat of your pulse racing. Your eyesight completely blurs, not quite from tears but rather a mere loss of focus. You nearly knock over one of the god forsaken fake plants Lydia insists as a primary form of decor, hardly being within the right mind to reach out and right the oversized bush of green plastic.

But you don’t have to. Right as your back collides with the wall off to the side of the plant, breathing only coming in short and miserable pants, a different hand reaches out to catch the plant. A ringed hand.

When Eddie says your name again, it’s not a sigh. It’s laced with panic as you support your full weight against white plaster and stare at where knuckles wrap around faux wooden stems.

“Hey,” he stresses, hand leaving your line of sight as he puts a large palm on each of your shoulders. You can’t look at him, not yet, “Hey, can you breathe for me? C’mon, big breaths.”

This close, you can smell the cologne. It’s not even the same woodsy drugstore scent that had lingered on the pillowcases he’d left you to cling to while on tour. Even that, something so miniscule as what cologne he now wore, had changed. And the new and unfamiliar scent chokes you, turns your desperate gasps for air even more futile.

You had walked out of that apartment two years ago, without any intention of ever being this close to him again. You’d sworn to yourself you’d never be this close again.

“You’re having a panic attack,” he squeezes your shoulders within his hold ever so slightly, as if attempting to ground you, “You need to breathe.”

Your eyes nervously find his brown ones. For a second, you recall summer days when the sun would hit them just right, turning them into molten honey for your tasting. Soft and glowing, warming you from the inside out so effortlessly.

But there’s not a single shred of sunlight in this hallway. The dark brown falls flat against your vision.

“I’m fine,” you very clearly aren’t, struggling to even get the words out into the air between you two, “I’m- I’m fine.”

He doesn’t fight you when you reach up to swat away his hands. He lets you, hands falling away with ease, touch retracting as if it had never burned you. You take the chance to look over the metal now settled on his fingers, and you realize he still wears all the same ones you remember so vividly. A cross, a pig’s face, an animalistic skull. But there are new ones added to his collection, adorned on his right hand rather than the left. Unfamiliar and odd, the bulky metallic additions are more plentiful. A silver snake wrapped around his pinky, a large spider with the body of a Magic 8 ball on his pointer, a bat spread eagle on his middle. There’s a chunkier one on his thumb, thinner ones added above a few of his second knuckles, but you can’t clear the haze of your vision long enough to pick up on the designs. You choose to focus back on the familiar ones instead, old and comforting even in your panic.

New rings, new cologne, new habits – the Eddie before you is not the Eddie you once knew.

“Okay,” he’s whispering now. You’re not even sure what excuse he used to follow you out here without causing a scene. Maybe he did cause a scene, surely a grander one than you. He had that privilege now; he was an untouchable rockstar, he could afford to raise a ruckus. “I… Are you sure?”

It’s hard to believe there was a time he was a familiar comfort when all that remains now is the awkward distance between the two of you.

But when he takes a step back from you, the new cologne leaves your stratosphere and the new rings leave your field of vision, and the breaths finally come just a tiny bit easier. Still not enough to satiate your lungs, but enough that the headrush begins to pass.

“I’m sure.”

You try to insert such finality in those two words. As if whatever had just happened would fade and never exist, as if you could walk back into that conference room and take yourself off this project. You can’t. Eddie has a sense of control, a grip on his reality and the reigns of his choices, but you don’t. If you were to demand Lydia remove you from the project, you’d be risking termination. You’d be risking everything – and it may not be much, but you’d built it brick by broken brick these last few years. You’d salvaged what you had been able to out of the ashes of what had been, but it hadn’t been enough. It had hardly been enough for a foundation. You’d built up the person that now stood before him from practical scratch.

The weight of just how much you had to lose hits suddenly – the realization that this was happening and you had no control of it.

But Eddie did. He had to.

“You need to go back in there,” you start, voice still shaking and eyes still averted, “And you need to demand that they reassign you guys. You… You need-” you begin to stutter and fumble to find the right words. You could have lashed out, could have tried to pour salt in a wound you weren’t even sure still existed so that Eddie made the choice on his own. But your mind is muddled and you’re desperate, “Someone else can take on the project. You need to go and demand that someone else takes on the project.”

“What?” Not the response you wanted. Not the response you needed, “I- No.”

Two years later, and he still found a way to do significant damage.

Your eyes snap up, “What do you mean no?”

“I mean no.”

“I haven’t asked anything of you. Not back then, not after everything happened, I-”

He cuts you off with a scoff. “Can’t ask for anything if you just fall off the face of the fucking earth.”

You hadn’t noticed before, but as his walls begin to build, you realize that the prior interaction had been something vulnerable. Something where neither of you were on the defense quite yet like you’d always imagined a reunion would go. All that had mattered ten seconds ago was you being okay, him coming after you, making sure you were fine. He’d allotted you all the care and attention you had craved so terribly two years ago, nearly begged for until your knees had bled for.

“Eddie,” you whisper, getting too distressed to think straight, “Please, for the love of God, just make them reassign the project-”

“I can’t,” he interrupts, shaking his head, “Do you think I’d put myself through this if I could help it? I fucking can’t. I have absolutely no control in there. I didn’t even-” he cuts off his sentence, looking you in your eyes, leaving more to be said.

He didn’t even what?

“I can’t do anything about it,” he says instead of whatever had been on the tip of his tongue, “Trust me – if I could, I would. But I can’t. So why don’t you say something?”

It’s your turn for scoffing and disbelief, “I can’t. I’m not the one with all the power and glory-”

“Is that what you think I have?”

“That’s what I know you have.”

You both go quiet as a battlefield fills the distance between you. All anger, all regret. None of the love or care that had once existed between you two exists here in this quantum plane of sharp words and deadly jabs.

“Just- please ask for a reassignment,” you try with one final plea, eyes hard on him, “Say that that first impression left you unimpressed, I don’t care. She won’t fire me for that.”

“Once again, no. As it turns out,” his voice is low, dangerous, unfamiliar. A tone he had never used before with you, “Even the one with all the power and all the glory can’t make miracles happen. Sorry, doll.”

He doesn’t await your response, leaving you on your own as you stay pressed against the wall and he’s walking away.

What is the saying? ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’?

You were certainly feeling scorned.

You felt ripped wide open, beaten and bruised and damn scorned as he leaves a conversation you weren’t finished with. You can’t tell which limb aches the most – the shoulder where his now strange hands had held onto you, your fingers that had curled into pained fists at your side to show you were prepared for a fight, your rib cage that still struggled to expand and accommodate the air now vacant of his cologne that you needed after your panic attack, or the legs that had once carried you away from Eddie Munson only to lead you right back to him.

There’s nothing you can do, though, beyond composing yourself. You take the same big, deep breaths that Eddie had tried to coax out of you moments before. Your fists slowly unfurl and your palms rake against the side of your jeans in an attempt to wipe away the sweat of the interaction.

Fine. If he wouldn’t help you, you could handle this. You could manage this project, plan a goddamn party for your ex-boyfriend’s new single. You would treat it just as you did every other previous project you had excelled at, and you would avoid all unnecessary contact with him just as you had with previous clients.

As a matter of fact, you could probably get away with avoiding all contact.

He hadn’t hired you. His management had. And, according to him, he had no real power in this situation. If he had no say in the matters, then there would be no reason to reach out to him.

You could do this. You could handle this.

It’s a mantra of salvation that you repeat to yourself internally as you take confident strides back to that conference room, not even stopping for the guards this time before you burst back into the room when your imminent doom awaits.

The repetition falters a bit when all eyes land on you as you take your first steps into the room.

Your name comes out of Lydia’s mouth like a hiss, her teeth locked into a smile that would better pass into a grimace as she asks, “How nice of you to join us again. Please, take a seat.”

“Of course,” you can’t look her in her eyes for very long, immediately rushing to sit at the chair she’d motioned towards. You haven’t spared Eddie a single glance – you haven’t spared any of the boys you’d once known a look. Instead, you look up to direct an apology at the only face you don’t recognize before you, “I’m truly sorry.”

The older gentleman, wrapped in a certain kindness and warmth below his professional attire, smiles. And in an instant, his face isn’t quite as unfamiliar, “No worries. When Nature calls, right? Regardless, I’m Matt. Nice to meet you.”

You can guess which hole in Eddie’s life he’s attempting to smother, which shoes this man serves to fill. He has more hair than his predecessor, but the grin is the same.

If you picture the man he reminds you of back in Hawkins, you’ll surely begin to ache.

When you reply with your name, you can hear a fragment of your youth in your voice. Better days spent in Forest Hills trailer park, loitering about a trailer as Wayne Munson asks you how well of an eye you’ve been keeping on his nephew. You’d always lie, say you were keeping him in line when you knew you’d spent the day following him right into trouble, like some sort of lost puppy. Like some sort of loyal soldier. It occurs to you that that’s who you had always been; a fierce soldier over the shoulder of Eddie, ever the brave commander. You would have followed him into battle without a second of consideration, you did follow him all the way to New York without ever taking a final glance at your hometown.

You wondered if he had tried to replace you as well. You imagine it; the new and fresh face that replaced yours in picture frames, that laid beside him at the end of each night he returned home, that heard a whisper of I love you over the line to the backtrack of a sound rehearsal.

Were there ever any bloody wars between him and his new lovers that could compare to the battles never fought between you two? Did anyone else in this world know the wounds of his gun never fired?

The smoke clears. You still don’t look at Eddie, afraid to only see the commander you once knew. You force a smile, putting on a soldier's bravado that doesn’t fit quite right anymore.

Bullets never fired, triggers never pulled, but the blood stained the same.

“So, where shall we begin?”

—

Matt does most of the talking for the next hour. Sheet after sheet of paperwork is laid down in front of you, your hand beginning to cramp from signing your name so many times, and the details are discussed.

A new single, set to release in three months. A release party that needed to be grandeur and garner the type of attention that Matt feared had been waning from the band due to radio silence on their music front. The outlines of the project were clear cut, simple enough, and you had yourself fooled just well enough that this would be easy.

You kept your eyes set on the prize and never once noticed the tomfoolery occurring between the band members. The words on the tip of their tongues that Eddie keeps quiet through quick kicks to their shins beneath the table, the individual hurt reflected in each of their eyes as you treat them no better than strangers. That treatment of Eddie, they understood. But them?

They could never understand.

“What’s the name of the single, if I may ask?” you question as you look over one of your copies of the paperwork. Lydia had been eerily silent, allowing you to take the lead.

Despite the rough start, it was paying off. Having a switch for your emotions can be a good thing, as it turns out.

“You may,” Matt nods before turning to the boys. It’s the first time he's looked to them for answers during the entire meeting, “Shall I do the honors, or would you boys rather do it yourselves?”

It’s a chance for all the members of Corroded Coffin to open their mouths without silent reprimanding from Eddie beneath the table, but he beats them to it.

“Dial Tone.”

You freeze your reading.

There’s something in the way he says it that forces you to look up. As if he’s only speaking to you, and the rest of the room is a faded mirage for him to send away for these private moments. Still a commander, even when his bravest soldier has left him.

“Sounds… interesting,” you murmur, taking a few seconds too long to meet his gaze, unsure of what to say, “Rolls off the tongue easily.”

“It certainly does. Which, ironic, given the situation that inspired the song.”

“And what would that be?”

You’re both wearing masks in front of an audience half made up of people painfully aware of your history, and the rest being painfully oblivious.

Does Matt know about you? Lydia certainly doesn’t know about Eddie.

“Words never said. Answers never given. Phone calls missed and never… returned.”

You’re not stupid, but you wish you were. It feels a bit selfish, a bit self absorbed, to so quickly assume you’re the inspiration.

But how could you believe anything else when Eddie is looking at you like that?

Hollow eyes, devoid of all the honey you once reveled in. Not so much of a stain of sweetness you swear you still taste on the back of your tongue. He’s looking at you with blame, well-deserved anger, and yet not an ounce of the guilt that should exist somewhere in those depths.

“How riveting,” you play along, trying to swallow down the waves of emotions, “Sounds like it’ll really draw in your audience. Might even be relatable to a few.”

Answers never given. Like how someone could stop saying they loved someone they’d spent years planning their life with, like how he could stop calling so easily, how he could leave so easily.

“Fingers crossed,” his forced smile in return is almost sinister, and you know it was the right choice to avoid speaking to each other until this moment.

There will be no contact. You know now that if you take on this project, which you technically have through law-binding contracts, that you won’t be able to be civil with Eddie. There is a history that can never be erased, mistakes made and wounds inflicted by both sides. Two worlds of hurt caused by opposing sets of hands that can only clash when they try to meet in the middle.

But then Matt, sweet Matt that you had come to actually like during this meeting, has to burst your bubble.

“Right, well, the good news is the boys aren’t on tour for the time being, meaning there will be plenty of time to talk about the small details and how the single will come into play during planning,” he explains, happily and still so unaware, “As a matter of fact, I would like to emphasize just how much I would appreciate you including the boys, especially Eddie, in this ordeal. His participation would be very helpful.”

Some silent form of communication happens between Matt and Eddie, glinting eyes and sudden frowns meeting raised eyebrows and fake smiles, but it’s not your concern.

The last thing you want during this project is Eddie’s involvement.

“Of course!” You need to think of an excuse, push for a way to keep him out, “But if Eddie is too busy, I’ll completely understand. I know that a single usually means an album, and that can be very time consum-”

“He won’t be too busy,” Matt interrupts, still staring at Eddie as if he’s daring him, not even questioning you singling him out as he does the exact same.

You recall what Eddie had insisted in the hallway, that his reach of control wasn’t as far as you had been assuming.

Swallowing hard, you see another relic of Wayne Munson in this man – he wasn’t someone to argue with, “Right, of course. Eddie will be involved. Absolutely.”

All the power and all the glory – but did it really rest in Eddie’s palms like you assumed?

“She has a point,” Eddie finally finds his voice, leaning back in his chair, trying to relax the tension from his shoulders, “I do have the album to work on.”

“And now you have this. I’m sure you can find a way to multi-task.”

Your comparison was accurate. It had been a while since you had seen another grown man capable of shutting Eddie down so quickly, tearing down his walls of affinity for challenging authority and reducing him to nothing more than a shell of his younger self. Matt and Wayne would have gotten along well. You doubt that they’ve met, but you know a bond would have formed between the common denominator of being able to subdue the once-rambunctious boy before you.

Eddie pouts nearly the complete remainder of the meeting. And those foolish, bitter shards within you become determined to be the bigger person. To smile and nod along, even when you disagreed with certain terms discussed. To be agreeable, to be good, to be better. This new version of you has something to prove; that you’ve done better without Eddie, that you’ve changed into something that no longer aligns with who he is.

It’s all for show, but you tell yourself no one can see through the cellophane disguise.

The only remaining signatures aren’t required from you but the rest of the boys. A single contract is passed down the line, and each of them sign themselves away to the agreement. Line after line of swooping black ink locks the five of you into an entrapment, a crowded dance of newly made strangers who have no choice but to play pretend.

Eddie makes it a deliberate point that he’s the last one to sign. Forces Grant to slide the prettily detailed paper right in front of him until it’s clear he’s making no move to pick up his pen, and the poor guy has to stretch a bit further and let Gareth take it rather than the stubborn rockstar. Only once Jeff’s own night-shade of ink has looped over one of the many lines does it return back to Eddie.

He looks you in the eyes for several seconds too long, pen crooked beside the paper on the table. You can’t take a single breath as you register how lifeless his eyes remain.

He’s not the person you once knew, but you are no longer the girl that once saw the world in him.

You will not drop to your knees before him, you will not worship the ground he walks on, you will not break. Certainly not first. Certainly not at all.

There’s no final words before hands donning unfamiliar rings pick up a pen amongst the silence. Just the click of bringing the ink to life, and the soft scratch of promises that will not be kept. It’s nothing new amongst the two of you.

As a matter of fact, if the scratch of the pen could echo, it might just resemble the sound of the door on that haunted and vacant apartment closing for the final time behind you two years ago.

—

“Do you two know each other?”

You had been waiting for this moment. Once Matt had called for a quick break so that he could organize and make copies of all paperwork, you knew Lydia would be chasing you down.

“What do you mean?” you question airily, topping off the small paper cup of water you had used as an excuse to dismiss yourself into the corner of the room, “Me and Matt? No, I’ve never-”

“Not you and Matt,” she moves to stand in front of you, your back to the room and the band, as she continues in an authoritative whisper, “You and the band – you and Eddie.”

“Why do you think we know each other?”

Please don’t catch on. Please don’t notice. Please don’t make me admit it.

Please don’t fire me.

She retrieves her own water, moving as if she wasn’t having such an intense conversation with you at this moment. All a show for the clients, no doubt. You weren’t the only skilled actress in this room, “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the way you ran out of this room when you saw him, maybe the way he ran after you without a word. Maybe the way the two of you spent a good ten minutes alone in that hallway, and how the rest of that band has been looking at you like you’re a ghost. Please don’t tell me you had a fling with Eddie before this. I really need my best person on this project, but I can’t have personal relationships interferin-”

“No, we don’t know each other,” you cut her off, ignoring the compliment and taking a sip to give your chance to formulate a better addition to the lie. It wasn’t really a lie, though, was it? “I promise it’s nothing, and it won’t interfere. I just…” I just hate him. I just miss the version of him I used to know. I just need you to take me off this project as quickly as possible for a reason that won’t make you think less of me or affect my future career here. “I don’t like the band, you know this.”

“I knew you weren’t a fan of them, but…” she trails off and looks over your shoulder, no doubt surveying the band. When you stood up from the table, they’d all been feigning boredom as if they hadn’t been taking turns staring you down so intensely. You felt like an animal under observation. “I thought it would be a good thing. To have a neutral party take this on. Why, exactly, don’t you like them?”

“ I don’t think he’s a good person.”

He as in Eddie. It goes as unspoken knowledge. And, technically, it isn’t a lie. Based on the headlines, based on his coolness this entire interaction, you don’t think he’s a good person. Not anymore.

You can feel the four sets of eyes on you even now. Your exchange with Lydia has been too quiet for them to hear, but you know you’re still being watched carefully.

“You don’t have to think he’s a good person, but you do need to play nice,” Lydia reminds you. You open your mouth, prepared to argue that you had been playing nice when Lydia waves her free hand to stop you, “I know, I know. I’m not saying you haven’t been perfectly professional. You have been, aside from your… bathroom break at the beginning, but please just remember that.”

You nod, stiff as ever. She was giving you more grace than you deserved if you tried to look at it from an outsider’s point of view.

“Of course,” that tone of professionalism, that mask to hide the whirlwind of emotions. You could do this.

You had to do this.

Choice is an illusion when Matt returns with the copies of paperwork, dividing the files up between himself and Lydia. Choice is an illusion as fake smiles are exchanged and pleasant goodbyes are offered. Choice is nothing but smoke and mirrors when all is said and done, and the entire group of you all stand outside the conference room, ready to part ways with a promise of next time, meaning the next meeting.

You never had a choice in any of this. Eddie did, somewhere along the line, but you didn’t.

Lydia and you both hand over business cards to Matt’s waiting hands, a deliberate move on your part. You bypass Eddie’s expectant glare entirely. The quicker this is over with, the faster he’s exiting the building and no longer occupying the same room as you, the better.

“We’ll be in contact,” Matt promises as he tucks the cards away carefully.

“I look forward to it,” you assure him, as if you weren’t dreading every second of what those contracts had detailed.

Three months. You had just signed on to guarantee Eddie Munson being back in your life for three months. The thought makes you nauseous.

Matt, ever the normal person, takes it as his queue to leave. Lydia has nodded, turned and began her short trek to her office as the band’s manager starts his journey to the elevator. Most of Corroded Coffin scampers after him, gazes on the floor as they retreat to a private space that will certainly be filled with questions. You almost wish there was a way for you to hear what will be said. The topic of conversation, undoubtedly, will be you. You and Eddie, Eddie and you. A pair of intertwined souls that had taken a sharp knife to your connection only to end up with Fate cruelly retying it on this dreadful day.

Fate, and Eddie, it seems.

His hand reaches out and catches your upper arm before you can escape the exchange properly.

“Can we talk?” You stare at him blankly to hide the racing of your heart and pounding in your mind. Those hands on you, skin on skin, leaving an inevitable mark. An inevitable stain. “Go for coffee, go for lunch, just-”

“No.”

You don’t have to think about your answer. Your pause was only born out of shock.

His eyebrows furrow, “No? What do you mean no?”

It feels like a pathetic repeat of your interaction in the hallway, when you had begged him to save you from this doomed union. Except now, you hold the cards in your hand. The first sense of control you’ve been offered this entire time.

“I mean no,” you repeat yourself clearly. Matt is halfway down the hall, and the boys trailing right behind him seem to fumble over their steps for a second. Jeff even goes as far as to look over his shoulder at the brewing storm appearing behind them, but clearly thinks better of intruding, “I don’t want to talk. I don’t want coffee, and I don’t want lunch.”

End of story.

Except, it isn’t, because Eddie’s face only twists further in pain, “We have to talk at some point-”

“Actually, we don’t. I’d prefer we didn’t. I think we can both agree it’ll be better, easier, for both of us to keep this strictly professional until we can go our separate ways again.”

He looks as if you had physically reached out and struck him. The force of your words nearly makes him rock backwards, face falling and mouth agape as he tries to grapple with the determination in your words.

If you were a fool, you’d mistake it for a flash of disappointment. But it’s not possible – it couldn’t be disappointment, only arrogance. He had obviously been assuming you would just give in. Your change just hadn’t become clear enough to him yet. It would, in time.

And now, the two of you seemingly had too much of it to endure.

“Actually, I think we can both agree that’s a load of bullshit,” he crassly argues back once he’s regained composure, “You know that’s not possible.”

You shake your head, suck in a bit of the skin of your inner cheek between your molars as an internal encouragement to stand your ground, “It is. It’s not only possible, but is exactly what’s going to happen.”

“You heard Matt. We have to talk at some point, even if it’s just about this and not us.”

“And we will. We can talk about this project all you want, Eddie. But not over lunch, and not over coffee,” you swear you draw blood from your cheek as you take back on that tone of professionalism, ice cold and completely disconnected, “My preferred form of contact is email. I usually respond in a timely manner, even after hours-”

“Don’t do that,” he stops you.

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m just another one of your clients.”

The metallic flavor floods the deepest corners of your mouth, overtaking the aftertaste of a honey you once knew on the back of your tongue, “That’s exactly what you are. One of my clients.”

Just a client, and nothing more. A boundary must be drawn, or else there will be more blood spilled than a mere drop from biting your inner cheek. And you aren’t prepared to bleed for him – not again. Never again.

He opens his mouth, as if he has more to dig out of the grave of this conversation, when Matt’s voice calls from down the hallway, “Eddie! C’mon! There’ll be time to talk later, we’ve got a meeting with the producer across town now.”

His stance goes rigid, annoyance rolling off him in waves, eyes still focused on you.

Maybe the reminder of time, the three month timeline, hurts him just as much as it hurts you. Maybe, just possibly, his arm has also been twisted in carving out a space for you in his life once more, whether strictly professional or not.

He deeply exhales through his nose, “I don’t even have your email.”

“Matt does. He has my card.”

“Yeah, he does. I don’t. How am I supposed to reach you through your preferred form of contact without it?”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way.”

You mean to smile at him just as you would the owner of the bakery opening on Third Street, or the mother of a bride trying to share the weight of responsibilities for a wedding. It doesn’t come off that way, though – you can feel the sadness of it tickle the corners of your mouth before he’s even slowly turning from you.

You watch the figure of Eddie Munson walk away from you, and you begin to wish he were walking out of your life rather than only out of the building for the time being.

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wingedhallows · 2 months

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i got my eye on you; marauders

pairing: marauders (sirius black x reader) | 3.3k words plot: albus reaches out to you to keep the marauders save, to not have them die, so you join them in their seventh year. authors note: this is by far the longest fic i ever wrote and it'll have several parts. I hope you like it :) have a good weekend, y'all <3

navigation | part one ; part two

“For some of you, this will be the last- '' The doors to the great hall opened with a loud squeak and all heads whipped to who had entered. It was uncomfortably quiet as a young woman, looking no older than twenty five, entered the hall.

Her appearance was unusual, to say the least. Students stared as they took in her appearance, the long hair, the loose jeans and the many many tattoos. Her face was adorned with make up, some jewelry graced her neck as well as her fingers and and her feet were plucked into beat up sneakers.

The students didn’t miss the pack of cigarettes which she had just shoved into the pocket of her pants or how her made-up eyes looked over the mass of teenagers.

The way she walked was confident, relaxed. Her arms swung by her side in a comfortable manner, something the students hadn’t seen in the halls of Hogwarts ever. As she reached the podium where Dumbledore stood, he embraced her in a hug.

“I’m late, sorry for that.” You said, Dumbledore swatted his hand and rubbed your upper arm. “No problem at all, Y/N. Life as a young Auror gets busy, does it not?” You gave him a small smile and turned around to walk up to the teachers, hand held out for them to take. As you came back to Albus, he had a hand on your shoulder. “They’re right there, just sit down with them.” He pointed his bony finger at the Gryffindor table, you couldn’t make out who he meant but followed suit.

Albus had contacted you a few weeks ago to give him a helping hand. A group of students, infamously titled the marauders were in grave danger, something about a prophecy and Voldemort. You didn’t need to know more when Albus had sounded so desperate.

You stepped off the podium and walked down the Gryffindor table, the gazes of students burning into your form. Just as you slowed down at a boy you had seen before, the older Black son, Sirius Orion Black, you stopped.

You looked back at Dumbledore and pointed at the bench. With a small nod you walked up to them. “Excuse me.” You spoke and within seconds the boys parted like Moses had the sea. You sat down and avoided their eyes when Albus started to talk again.

The teens looked at you, examining you. “As I was saying-” You weren’t listening as you looked at them. The boy on your right across the table had dark hair, not as long as the Black’s but it was neatly styled. His tie sat untidy in the center of his uniform and he looked your way a few times, too shy to actually keep eye contact. T

he one next to him looked tidier, his tie was neatly pulled together, his hand rested on a book which you couldn’t make the title out of. His face was graced with faint reddish scars and his eyes were glued to Dumbledore.

The table stayed faintly quiet as Albus stopped talking and breakfast was announced. “Relax.” You said, eyes now glued to your face. With a tap to the plate it vanished and a steaming cup of coffee emerged in its place. You fished the pack of cigarettes from your pocket and pushed one between your lips. Black, who was seated to your right, grabbed your arm, biscuit in his other hand.

“No smoking on grounds.” The tidy boy spoke, as Black retreated his hand. “Rules.” Sirius spoke, he shook his head, obviously thinking those to be absurd. You gave them a small smile before you lit the cigarette with a tip of your finger.

“The rules don’t count for me.” The dark haired boy furrowed his eyebrows and huffed before he spoke. “But-”I’m not a student.” You took a sip from your coffee and spoke again.

“I’d be a bit too old for that.” You took a drag from your cigarette, enjoying the way the smoke filled your lungs. You huffed the smoke over their heads and took another sip. “No fair.” Sirius crumbled next to you.

You looked to your right and held the cigarette out for him. With wide eyes he watched you, without a word you nodded your head at him. He hesitated but embraced the stick between his lips and took a drag. Without as much as a cough he blew out the smoke and gave you a small smile. “Thanks.” You didn’t answer before you took another drag.

“My name’s Y/N and I’m here to look out for you-”Look out for us?” You eyed him through your lashes with a glare. “James.” The boy next to him nudged his shoulder and he retreated with a quick sorry.

“You goin’ to interrupt me again, James?” James shook his head “No ma’am.” Your lips twisted into a grin “Good.”

You propped your arms onto the table and started to talk again. “I can’t tell you why, orders from way up.” You paused as you saw them frown.

“I wanna make one thing clear, I’m not here to keep you in check.” You paused “I’m simply here to not have you die, I couldn’t care less about what you do in school.” The boy to your left shuffled to look at you. “Look at me like a friend, you can come to me for help and whatever else you want, I kinda have a free pass here.” You pointed at the pack of cigarettes.

“So, you’re just here to keep us safe?” The boy next to James spoke and you nodded. “Exactly.” James wasn’t convinced, eyebrows still knitted together. “But that doesn’t make sense, we’re good at taking care of ourselves. Sirius has a mean right hook and I’m the best quidditch player in our school. We can take-”No you can’t.” You broke him off.

“Not during these times.” He eyed you some more before he returned to his breakfast.

Just as James opened his mouth again you caught Albus in the corner of your eyes. He had his hand raised, asking you to meet him up in his office. You understood and spoke after you had shoved the cigarettes back into your pocket.

“Excuse me.” You said, Sirius wanted to keep a hold on you, to not let you go but within a second the space next to him was empty. You had apparated away, on school grounds. Maybe you were right after all, you did have a free pass.

Albus only wanted to remind you of your mission, keep them safe. He handed you their schedule and sent you on your merry way. You apparated into Minerva's classroom, startling two girls in the process. The lesson hadn’t started yet and the room was buzzing with voices.

James and Sirius were seated together, Remus sat with Peter. Albus had shown you pictures, pointed them out to you. There was a bench behind the four which was vacant, so you decided to place yourself there.

You had no business here, you knew. You had finished your school years at Mahoutokoro in Japan about three years ago, you were no longer a student and you didn’t desire to be one ever again but this mission, this task, which Albus put in your hands felt too important to act upon your dislikement of school.

“Oh, Y/N.” Remus said with a small smile on his face as he noticed you.

You gave him a small wave of your fingers and leaned back in your chair, Sirius and James now sat facing you. “You’ll join the lessons too?” You nodded and lit yourself a cigarette, they didn’t question it this time.

“Albus told me to feel free to join in if I wanted to.” Sirius brought a hand through his brown locks and gave you a flirty smile. “Should’ve sat behind you then, Snivellus’ an eyesore.” You gave him a grin and eyed the fellow student. He was hunched over his desk, gaze locked on his workbook.

“So, you’ll join-”You’re in my seat.” A blonde boy interrupted James, he stood right in front of you, his blonde hair framed his face like a helmet.

“I don’t see a name.” You smiled, taking a drag from your cigarette. “This seat is mine.” He said again, nose held high. You raised from your chair and placed yourself in front of the nuisance of a boy. His jaw was clenched and his eyebrows furrowed in anger.

“Well now it’s mine.” You almost whispered, the classroom had gotten awfully quiet, eager to catch a glimpse of your quarrel.

“I’ll say it one more time, this seat is mine, you mud-”I wouldn’t if I were you. I’m the furthest thing from a mudblood, not that I like the sound of that insult.” Your face contorted into a frown before you took another drag of your cigarette and blew the smoke right in his face. The blonde coughed violently as you looked down on him.

“Get away from me.” You said before you sat down and crossed your legs over each other. The boy took a step forward, fists clenched and face flushed.

Sirius and James were fast to stand up, square their shoulders and stare him down. You felt like there were two guard dogs standing right behind you.

“This isn’t finished.” He spat before he turned around and found himself and his buddy a seat. His eyes found yours again before you raised your hand to flip him off.

Sirius burst into laughter as he reached over the desk and patted you on the shoulder. “You’re growing on me, love.”

“Malfoy’s an arse, don’t fret it.” James laughed before you waved him off. “I think I can handle him just fine, James.”

Just as Minerva stepped into the room you had any evidence of a cigarette vanishing. McGonagall wrinkled her nose in displeasure as she placed her bag down.

“Who smoked in my classroom?” The boys didn’t move, you just raised your eyebrows, you’d get him for good. “No one?” You wiped the smirk off your face as you raised your hand.

“Minerva, can I call you that?” The woman faced you, her face didn’t change as she simply nodded.

“I’m not normally one to tell, but I believe that school rules are of utmost importance for students, it was like that for me when I visited Mahoutokoro.” You paused to flash her a small smile, a smile that said, I’m on your side, I’m here to support, not side with students.

“I believe I saw Mr. Malfoy over there enjoying a cigarette just a few moments ago. I’m not one to disdain smoking, as I enjoy it myself but as we all know, I’m no longer a student, but Mr. Malfoy is one and I believe that this should be addressed.”

You were amazed by yourself, you hadn’t been a two faced bitch since school. The boys turned around, faces painted with disbelief. Sirius had to hide the grin on his face. Peter stared at you in horror, how could you be so absolutely stellar at lying, without a stutter or a twitch of guiltiness.

“Very well, Y/N. Do you have proof to reinforce those accusations?” She stepped a row closer to you, hands clasped together. Malfoy shot to his feet, face bright red with anger as he tried to speak.

“Professor, you couldn’t possibly believe-”I believe a quick whiff should be enough, cigarettes leave a rather strong smell on people who smoke.”

Minerva gave you a nod and proceeded to where the blonde boy sat, his eyes widened in horror. You had blown the smoke at him, it would still linger. The teacher reached her head forward and smelled the boy's uniform, with a gasp she retreated.

“Mr. Malfoy, I’m truly disappointed, smoking on school grounds is bad enough but in my classroom of all places. 10 points from Slytherin and detention.” You sat down and gave the boys a smirk, they turned around with an amused expression on their faces.

“Thank you, Y/N. It’s nice to see someone acting their age.” You didn’t respond and just gave her a smile.

“I can’t believe you got Malfoy detention.” James laughed. “Not to mention the house points off Slytherin!” Sirius laughed before he threw an arm over your shoulder. You just shook your head and took the cigarette he had snatched from you back. His fingers played with your hair as you occupied your free hand with your lighter.

“So, you’re just going to spend your free period with me here?” You tried and Peter hummed, his arms snaked around his school bag. You’d told them that you’d like to go for a smoke, to get some peace but that apparently doesn’t exist without those four.

“So, how old are you actually?” James spoke, your eyes found his. Remus jabbed him in the side and you chuckled, taking another drag of the cigarette before Sirius grabbed your arm to take a drag himself.

“Not cool, man.” Sirius commented. You were so close, so intimate. It didn’t feel weird though, it didn’t bother you. Being with him felt so easy, so comfortable. Was that a bad thing? You felt as if you were letting your guard down, what if you were too distracted to keep them safe? All those thoughts disappeared when Sirius’ hand rested on your shoulder.

“24.” You simply answered. Remus finally sat down in front of you, his shoulders seemed less tense. “You went to school in Japan, why that?” You shifted your legs and put the cigarette out letting it once again disappear in the palm of your hand.

“I was originally going to spend my school years here at Hogwarts but when my parents saw my potential they decided to send me to a school which took more pride in their students power and skill than anything else.” You paused and lit yourself another cigarette.

“My parents insisted on my transfer to Mahoutokoro when I was barely twelve years old, I haven’t seen them since I was transferred.” Sirius retreated his arm to fully face you.

“What do you mean?” James spoke, eyebrows furrowed. “I never forgave them for ripping me away from everything I knew, my friends, my family, my mother tongue. Everything.”

“So you never spoke to them again?” Peter leaned forward, intrigued by the conversation. You nodded your head, eyes on the ground you sat on. “Not one word.”

“What’s Maktokoro-”Mahoutokoro.” You interrupted Sirius, who just swatted your attempt of correcting him away. “Yes, that.”

You caught the boy looking at your hand and without a word you raised the cigarette to his mouth, his warm hand grasped yours gently and he clasped the stick in between his lips. The way he looked, the way he felt, did something to you. Heat spreads from your chest over your shoulder.

“I-It’s very disciplined, hence why I look how I look.” You paused to catch your breath and to rip your gaze from the delicious looking man next to you.

“No tattoos, no dying your hair, no casual clothes, no nothing. The only nice thing is the scenery.” Sirius held a drink for you to take and with a thankful smile you took it.

“Mahoutokoro is big in Qidditch, it wasn’t my cup of tea but the matches were a sight to see.” James leaned back with a smirk on his face.

“Well, Quidditch’s our expertise.” You raised your eyebrows at him. “I’m a seeker myself, Sirius’ a beater.” You smiled at him and nodded your head. “I guess I have to watch you play, then?”

Sirius let out a chuckle and threw his arm over your shoulder once again. “Of course, love. I need something worth winning for.” You had to laugh yourself before you intertwined your fingers with his before he placed the cigarette in front of your mouth again. You took a drag and blew the smoke past him.

“You don’t play?” You addressed the other two boys.

“No, Peter and I are not so skilled regarding Quidditch.” Remus laughed, his book wandering to his other hand.

“Moony’s the one with the best grades though, Quidditch only gets you so far.” James threw in and Remus gave him a small smile. “Oh, so you’re the smartest?” Remus had to chuckle and shook his head.

“He’s only being modest.” Sirius whispered in your ear and you nodded before Sirius dropped the done cigarette into your palm and it vanished.

Seated all the way in the back you were surprised to see one of your former teachers teach Defense Against Dark Arts here at Hogwarts. Hayato Fujimoto was one of your favorite teachers when you went to school, to see him here now fills you with comfort.

He broke into a bright smile as he welcomed the students. “We have a guest here, as it seems.” He paused to lean on his desk. You waved at him before he waved you to the front of the class.

“Miss Y/N here was one of my most talented students, with excellent skills in wandless magic and dueling. I’m happy to have you here, so far from home. I hope you’re willing to show your skills to my students sometime.” You gave him a smile and tilted your head towards him.

“Of course, Professor.” He waved you off “Please, you’re no longer one of my students, call me Hayato.” You couldn’t do that, you knew and he knew as well.

“Alright students, get in line, find yourself a partner.” Fujimoto waved his hands to rush them along, his white hair jumped with the effort. You stayed behind, to stay out of their way.

These lessons, learning how to defend themselves, were important. Even if the professor was eager to show you off, you wanted them to train, to be able to wield those defensive spells, especially Sirius, James, Remus and Peter.

You made your way to them, watching them. James trained with Peter, Sirius with Remus. Spell after spell jumped between them, but you noticed right away, they were going easy on each other. They didn’t take it seriously.

Without a word you stepped in front of Remus, who retreated with wide eyes. “What?” He mumbled as Sirius lowered his wand with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Raise that wand, Black.” You paused before he stepped forward, following suit and raised his wand again.

“Hit me with the best you got.” He hesitated but nodded, wielding his wand.

“Stupefy!” He yelled and with a flick of your hand it dispersed, you looked bored. “Don’t go easy on me now, Sirius.” He took a breath and raised his wand again.

“Rictusempra!” He tried again, but you waved it off once again. With a nameless spell you sent him off his feet, he flew a feet meters and landed on his ass.

You frowned and walked over to him. Your hand reached to his head and your other one held his shoulder. His hair was fluffy, softer than you expected it to be. “You okay?” He huffed and sent you a pained grin, trying to play off the aching in his buttocks.

“Fine.” He mumbled before he got to his feet again. You brushed his shirt off and rubbed his upper arm. He nodded and took his wand from your hand.

“I didn’t want to knock you off your feet, sorry about that.” You said before he grabbed your arm, warm hand grasping your flesh.

“That’s twice now, you owe me.” He said with a smirk on his face.

For once, you were speechless. You expected him to be mad, to dislike you but he flirted. Your cheeks felt hot and your heartbeat sped up. This wasn’t good, not good at all.

#harrypotter #hp fanfic #marauders imagine #the marauders #marauders era #harry potter fanfic #sirius black #remus lupin #the marauders x reader #sirius black imagine #sirius black x reader #the marauders fanfiction #the marauders fanfic #hp marauders #marauders #the marauders era #marauders fandom #sirius black fanfic

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ereardon · 3 months

Text

Before I Knew [Jake Seresin x Reader] Chapter Four

A Jake Seresin unexpected pregnancy fic

Overview: On your first night after moving to San Diego to spend more time with your brother Bob, you unknowingly have a one night stand with his teammate Jake Seresin. For the first time in his whole life, Bob has a closely knit friend group and you’re desperate not to rock the boat. But an unexpected and unplanned pregnancy upends your world, forcing you and Jake closer together, against Bob’s wishes. What will happen when you find yourself actually falling for the father of your unborn child?

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader; Bob Floyd x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Pregnancy, cursing, eventual smut, alcohol, gyno visit

Chapter summary: Bob finds out the pregnancy; Y/N gives Jake and Bob an ultimatum

Masterlist here; previous chapter here

The Barbie movie said it right. It was always baby dolls.

You were one of the girls who religiously carried around a baby doll. Buckled it into the seat next to you on car rides. Made sure to change its faux diaper. Prepared empty bottles of “formula” for feedings. So you had been sure you wanted to be a parent.

But when reality hit you like a ton of bricks, the fear overrode that sense of longing.

What if you weren’t enough to be a mom?

***

Bob didn’t come home that night. So he didn’t hear you crying on the floor of the shower after Jake ran out. By the time he arrived back at the house in the late morning, hair ruffled and nowhere near his normal slicked back military neatness, you had pulled yourself together. Or at least, as together as was possible.

“Hi Ducky,” he said, slipping through the front door, hanging his jacket on the hanger to his left. “How was your night?”

You shrugged. “Fine. Went to bed early.”

Bob paused. Then, “Did Jake stop by? I think I remember him saying he would.”

“Yeah, he did.”

“And?” There was an inflection of expectation in his voice. Leading.

“He stopped by, saw I was alive, and left. That was it.”

Bob frowned. “He just left?”

“Ran away, to be specific.”

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen Hangman run.” Bob cocked an eyebrow. “You must have scared him.”

“You have no idea.”

***

Every time Bob went out with the team you made an excuse to stay home. You had a headache. There was a new episode of The Bachelor on. You wanted to spend some time filling out job applications.

Each time, Bob would hesitate. You saw the wheels turning in his head. Part of him wanted to stay, keep you company, make sure you were alright. The other part of him was desperate to be part of the group. To see his friends. You wanted that part of him to win.

You took Bob’s truck to the doctor. She squeezed jelly onto an ultrasound wand and you held your breath as the machine beeped to life. “There,” she said, pointing to a tiny fleck in an otherwise empty uterus. “That is your baby.”

You let out a sigh. Not one of relief. Nor one of fear. Just a sigh. A part of you had been waiting to see it to know that it was real. Five positive pregnancy tests felt like unconfirmed trash until you could see it with your own two eyes.

“The baby is measuring at eight weeks,” the doctor said. “Have you started on prenatals?”

You looked down toward the end of the exam table. “I’m not sure if I’m having the baby.”

“Oh.” Silence filled the room. She rolled back on her stool. “Well, let’s discuss your options.”

***

When you were five, you had a tiny stuffed penguin that your mom bought you at the grocery store near the flower section. The penguin went everywhere with you: to kindergarten in your backpack, to the park, it got buckled into the car seat next to you, it sat on its own chair at the dinner table.

And then one day, it was gone. You were inconsolable. Your mother, trying her hardest to put her foot down, said that you lost too many toys so she wouldn’t buy a replacement. You spent three days crying into your pillow at night, inconsolable about the penguin.

On the fourth day, you were lying down to go to bed when the door to your room squeaked open. Light poured in, Bob pushing up his large glasses on his slim nose. “Ducky?” he whispered.

You sat up, wiping at the tears on your cheeks. “What?”

“Surprise.” He pulled an identical stuffed penguin out from behind his back. Your eyes went wide, a smile plastered over your face. You held out your hands and Bob stepped forward, placing the stuffed penguin into your arms. You held it tightly, vowing to never let it go.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

Bob smiled. “You’re welcome.”

You fell asleep cradling the penguin. In the morning, your mom asked where you found it.

Bob shrugged. “Must have been under her bed.”

Your mother looked at the two of you. You were oblivious, happily eating your cereal. Bob was quiet, reserved. But when Friday rolled around and she offered to take him to the comic book store that he had been begging to go to, he declined. “Why?” she asked.

“I can’t afford a new comic.”

“You had ten dollars not two days ago,” your mother countered. “What did you do with all of that allowance?”

Bob looked over at you, playing in the corner. “She was sad.”

Your mother’s eyes softened. She pulled Bob into a hug. “You’re a good brother,” she said softly. “Come on, I’ll buy you two comic books.”

***

You had hid the evidence well enough. All of the pregnancy tests were in the trash wrapped in toilet paper. The clinic didn’t have Bob’s address listed in their file.

It was the fish tacos that did it.

Bob had stopped by a food truck on his way home from North Island, and your stomach growled as you tore into the white paper container of tacos, snapping them up greedily. But intense hunger was followed by a wave of unmistakable nausea and in a second you were out of your chair, running to the kitchen sink, throwing up the remains of the tacos with a loud gag. Bob came running into the kitchen, eyes wide. “Y/N?” he asked softly. “Are you alright?”

You ran the water, rinsing out your mouth, pushing everything down the disposal before straightening up and wiping at your lips with a paper towel. “Yeah, sorry. Think I got a bad batch of tilapia.”

He frowned. “Food poisoning doesn’t usually come on that fast. Are you feeling alright?”

“Yeah I’m fine. Maybe I’ll just finish dinner later.”

“OK, sure.”

“I’m going to go lay down.”

The nausea passed, as it usually did. By the time the sun was setting, you felt fine enough to wander into the kitchen, head stuck inside the fridge, frowning at the different layers of scents emanating. Bob’s voice startled you. “Something’s wrong.”

You jumped before shutting the fridge, hand on your heart. “Bobby, you scared the shit out of me!”

“No secrets, Y/N,” he said. “We’ve always been honest with each other. Since we were kids. You and me, against the world. You can tell me anything.”

“I’m scared,” you murmured.

“What is it?” In the moonlight streaming diagonally through the windows, he looked worried. Bob worried was a sight you knew well. He wore an air of concern in most situations. Since he was a child he had been nervous, worried, cautious. An old man in a young boy’s body. You loved him for that.

“I’m pregnant,” you whispered. The truth felt like releasing every gas bubble in your stomach all at once. You felt weightless.

And then gravity hit, and practically splattered you to the ground. Bob’s voice was no longer shaky. It was lower. Practically a growl. But perfectly crisp and decisive. “Whose is it?”

You should have known that was his next question. You should have been prepared. But instead, you said, “Jake’s.”

All of the air was sucked up by Bob in that instant. As if he were heaving it all in, preparing to breathe fire. You watched embers burn in his eyes. “I’m going to kill him.”

“It’s not his fault.”

“Then whose fault is it?” he roared and you staggered back, afraid of him for perhaps the first time in your life. “Fucking Christ, Y/N. You’ve really done it this time. Everything else, I could have handled for you. No job? I’ll help you find a job. No money? You can live with me. You need someone to proofread an essay? I’m happy to. But this?” He tossed his arms into the air. “What the fuck are you going to do?”

“Be a mom,” you whispered.

“You’re not prepared to be a parent,” he spat and you felt a flood of tears rush to your eyes. “You’re still a child.”

“No I'm not!” you countered. “So stop treating me like one.”

“Then stop acting like one!” Bob yelled and the sound reverberated along the empty walls. “You’re not ready for this,” Bob said, his voice lower now but still as fierce and hard.

“It doesn’t matter if I’m ready or not,” you whispered. “I have to be. That’s the end of the story.”

“You’re going to ruin this child’s life,” Bob said. His words cut. Never in twenty-three years had Bob said or done anything as painful as those words felt.

You let the tears fall from where they had started to well up on your eyelid. “No, Bobby, I’m not,” you whispered. “And if that’s what you think, then maybe I really am on my own.”

You were out the door before you realized you didn’t have a car of your own. You had no one to call.

Just one address that was seared in your memory.

By the time your Uber pulled up to Jake’s house, the rain had turned from a drizzle into practically a hurricane. You scampered out of the backseat and down the driveway, taking shelter under the porch as you hesitated before ringing the bell, lips practically blue from the cold.

Jake tugged open the door wearing a pair of gray sweatpants and no shirt. His green eyes widened as he took you in: drenched to the bone in a pair of pajamas, eyes ringed red from crying, no purse or bag, just a pair of flip flops on your feet.

“Y/N,” he murmured. “What—”

“I told Bob.” Your voice cracked.

Jake gulped. “Come inside.”

He held open the door. You were as sober as they came this time. Last time everything had been a blur: your legs pressed against the back of the door as Jake’s lips suctioned onto your neck. Your bra flung on the couch, Jake’s jeans pooled in a puddle in the hallway. This time, you stood shivering in the foyer as Jake’s eyes roamed over you. Finally, after a moment, you said, “I’m freezing.”

“Oh, shit.” That sparked a mission for him. “Here.” Jake gestured down the hall toward the bedroom. You stepped inside, trailing water along the hardwood floor. In the bathroom, he leaned in, turning on the shower, feeling the temperature with an upturned palm. “I’ll leave some clothes on the bed,” he said. “There’s, uh, towels in the closet.”

“Thanks.”

Jake hesitated for a moment. Finally, he turned to go and you heard the door to the bedroom shut softly. The clothes Jake left on the bed were a pair of women’s pajama pants and an obvious men’s sweatshirt. You pulled them both on and wandered out into the hallway. Jake was pacing up and down the living room, bare feet slapping against the wood. He had pulled on a t-shirt that was tight across his chest. When you entered the room he looked up, startled. “Hey.”

“Hi.” You looked around. “Can I sit there?”

“Yeah, of course.” Jake couldn’t sit still. You perched on the edge of the couch and watched as he crossed the room incessantly, shaking his head, the thoughts rolling around in his brain.

“Seresin,” you snapped and he looked over. “Sit down, you’re making me nauseous.”

“Fuck,” he whispered, sitting on the ottoman, one leg tapping. He looked up. “Are you OK?”

You shook your head. “I don’t know.” “But, um, the baby?”

“The baby is fine,” you replied quietly. “It’s me that’s not doing so great.”

“Is it Bob?”

Tears welled in your eyes. Jake’s face went ashen. You realized that Jake may have been just as scared of Bob’s reaction as you were. “He still thinks of me as a child.”

Jake sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “He’s just being a brother,” he said quietly. “I understand.”

“He’s going to murder you,” you said, only half joking.

“Not the first time Floyd has hated me,” Jake replied. “And it won’t be the last.”

“What’s the beef between the two of you?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does.” You stood up. Now you were the one pacing, the legs of the borrowed pajama bottoms dragging around the floor. “He’s going to be the uncle of this child.” You paused. “And you’re the father. I need the two of you to get along.”

“I need a second to digest this all,” Jake whispered.

“It’s been two weeks. I think your decision is pretty clear,” you replied. Jake opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. You glanced at him, eyes dry from all the crying. “Can I stay here tonight?”

“Yeah, of course,” he said, standing up. “You can take my bed, I’ll stay out here.”

“Thanks.” You paused in the doorway. “Goodnight, Jake.”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Jake said softly.

***

A pounding noise woke you from an uncomfortable sleep. You sat up in terror, sheets tangled up at your ankles as the pounding continued.

Then, “Hangman!” Bob’s voice was clear as day.

You staggered out of bed, throwing open the door from the bedroom just as Jake opened the front door and Bob stepped in, reaching for Jake’s shirt near his chest. You gasped and his eyes flitted over Jake’s shoulder, widening when he spotted you wearing Jake’s oversized sweatshirt.

“Keep your fucking hands off my sister,” Bob growled, his fist balled up in Jake’s collar as he stepped forward until the two men were nose to nose.

“Let go of him!” you cried and your voice rang out, thin, in the large living room. Bob’s grip on Jake remained. “Bobby! Please.”

His gaze turned to you, threatening to liquify your entire body with its intensity. “Go to the bedroom, Y/N. This is between me and Jake.”

“Except it isn’t,” you said. “I’m not going to pretend to know what the fuck is going on between you two, but it ends here. You’re either both in or you’re out.”

Bob’s hand dropped from Jake. “What do you mean out?”

“Out,” you repeated, tears springing to your eyes. “Out of my life.”

“Ducky.”

“Don’t Ducky me. This isn’t a game and I’m not a child. If anyone is being childish here, Bob, it’s you. Fighting to prove a point? What is punching Jake going to solve? It’s not going to undo the fact that we slept together.”

Bob’s fists tightened at his sides. “Don’t remind me.”

“I can do this without you,” you said quietly. “I don’t know how, all I know is that I can because I have to.” You turned to Jake. “I can do it without both of you. I just want to know – are you in or are you out?”

Please follow my library page @ereardonlibrary as that will largely serve as my tag list. Anyone I previous promised to tag is here:

@bobfloydsbabe @blue-aconite @wkndwlff @mamachasesmayhem @mandylove1000 @djs8891 @clancycucumber230 @rosiahills22 @buckysteveloki-me @kmc1989 @gigisimsonmars @eloquentdreamer @mjisbby @shanimallina87 @seresinslady @seresinhangmanjake @blackwidownat2814 @yanna-banana @bbyvanessaa @mrsjobarnes @midnightmagpiemama @ingoaliesitrust @rockbottomphilosophies-blog @iangiemae @joaquinwhorres @boiolay @sometimesanalice @spinning-away @mycobrakai1972 @xomrsalliej4787xo

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atinyniki · 6 months

Text

only mine.

group: stray kids !

pairing: idol!kim seungmin x f!reader

genre: fluff, a little angst

warnings + additional info: reader is referred to as y/n, crying, lots of fighting, possessiveness (seungmin), lots of jealousy (also seungmin), accusations/slut-shaming, seungmin is referred to as min, minnie, and seungie, unprofessional work ethics, seungmin is a real jerk, nonconsensual kissing, drinking, forced proximity (shared bed), drunk confessions, seungmin is TOXICCCC!

authors note: one of my least fav fics ngl, didnt have very great ideas for this one but i tried my best ! this is also not proofread. english is not my first language, so please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors. happy reading :)

wc: 4482

(pt. 2)

“i’m sorry y/n…”

you’re sitting on the couch, hands awkwardly placed in your lap. “it’s okay, i wasn’t expecting anything it’s just… i needed to get it off my chest.”

your relationship with jeongin is basically ruined at this point. things are going to be terribly awkward now, especially since you’re one of the makeup artists for stray kids.

the boys are all great friends with you too, so there’s not really a high chance of you getting put with another group.

jeongin stays silent, and you take it as a sign to leave. you quickly make your way out of the room to see seungmin on the couch, smirking at you. your eyes were already welling up with tears, you just wanted jeongin to say something.

instead, you’re met with seungmin, tears threatening to leave your eyes. “did you really think someone like jeongin would like you back?”

your heart plummets, you feel sick to your stomach. you don’t answer, walking toward the front door. “awhh, someone’s upset”

“not right now seungmin, i’m not in the mood.”

“you’re never in the mood. now get the fuck out.”

you quickly shut the door behind you, taking a deep breath and making your way home. it’s just a simple rejection, you know, but seungmins words still linger in your mind.

what were you thinking? jeongin would never like someone like you.

it was time to shoot their new music video, the whole atmosphere feeling incredibly awkward. jeongin did his best to avoid you, tending to another stylist instead.

you quickly finish up chans makeup, showing him what it looks like in the mirror. he practically beams at you, you know you’ve done well. “why aren’t you talking y/n?”

you swallow down the lump in your throat, you know you can trust chan. “oh nothing, just a little awkward now”

“why so?”

“jeongin didn’t tell you?”

chan looks incredibly confused, shaking his head with an eyebrow slightly raised. you give in, explaining the story vaguely to chan, making sure to leave out the interaction with seungmin.

“oh wow… and he said… nothing?”

you slowly nod, head hung low. chan can see the hurt swirling in your eyes, “it’s okay, at least that means he didn’t say anything bad”

you laugh a little at chans logic, thinking about what seungmin said. jeongin is too good for you. you know it. why did you even try?

you continue your conversation with chan, when all of a sudden, seungmin pops up behind you. “wow… first jeongin and now chan? jeez, talk about desperate…”

you try to contain yourself in front of the boys, swallowing down the harsh words that are so incredibly close to leaving your mouth.

you couldn’t get anything out, just simply mumbling a quick apology and darting out the door before the tears spilled. you don’t know why seungmin hates you so much.

as soon as the door shuts, you can hear chan yelling at seungmin. you don’t want to ruin their friendship, and you’re truly considering leaving for a bit.

you arrive home, quickly changing and flopping onto the bed. the heavy feeling in your heart doesn’t go away.

suddenly, you get a text. you check your phone, wondering who could be texting you.

minmin 🐶 : stay away from them, seriously. you’re making jeongin uncomfortable.

you don’t really know how to answer, so you just lay there with your phone in your hand. you don’t know how to gather your feelings about anything right now.

minmin 🐶: you can’t just go around fucking with every guy you find hot

another text breaks you out of your thoughts.

minmin 🐶: are you not even going to answer?

y/n: i’m not fucking around with anyone, seungmin.

minmin 🐶: then what is it for?

minmin 🐶: money?

minmin 🐶: attention?

y/n: no seungmin, it’s because i actually have feelings.

y/n: just leave me alone, please?

minmin 🐶: oh so now all of a sudden it’s a sensitive subject for you?

y/n: why do you keep bugging me about this seungmin? i’m trying to get over it

y/n: i’ll stay away from jeongin, just leave me alone.

you could see seungmin typing, and then it suddenly stops. you don’t get a message after that, and decide to just go to sleep.

you’re preparing for another filming session, touching up jeongin’s makeup. you make sure not to get too close, remembering what seungmin had said to you not too long ago.

seungmin seems to be giving you weird looks from across the room. you don’t think anything of it, and continue fixing up jeongin’s makeup. before you turn around to help changbin, you give jeongin a smile.

jeongin doesn’t return the smile however, instead walking over to seungmin to talk about the choreography. you don’t think anything of it, and just do your job. you’re not overstepping your boundaries, especially after jeongin established them.

or after… seungmin established them.

the room is dead silent aside from changbins vocal warmups. you quickly complete seungmins makeup, making sure not to say a word that could set his mood off.

you bring out the hair curler, slowly framing seungmins bangs around his face. you see seungmins eyes darting around, but you decide to focus on the task at hand.

once seungmin makes sure his arms are hidden from the camera, he tugs you by the shirt, pulling you in for a sloppy kiss.

before you can even manage to escape, he pushes you off of him. the curler falls onto you, burning a thick line onto your forearm. “what the fuck y/n?! why would you do that?!”, he exclaimed.

all heads are turned towards you now, “what do you mean?! you kissed me?!”, you replied incredulously.

the staff manages to get you as far away from him as possible. along with losing most of your friends, you also lose your reputation, as well as your job. it feels as if everything has suddenly shattered because of one stupid crush.

you knew that seungmin had hated you for a while, maybe you shouldn’t have pissed him off with jeongin.

the security camera footage didn’t show any signs of seungmin kissing you, so they took his word for it. you were no longer a part of stray kids’ team.

weeks passed. you didn’t want to bring up seungmin to the managers, it was pointless to ruin his career. it would be easier for you to find a new job, but for seungmin, the backlash would be incredibly overwhelming. you couldn’t do that to him.

you weren’t completely let go of though, only moved to work with itzy instead. if you’ll be honest, it’s a lot easier to work without having seungmin around. you’re more focused on your job now.

“is it really true that seungmin framed you?”, yuna asks abruptly.

you were taken aback by the sudden question, not knowing if you should answer or not. “umm…”

ryujin walks over to you, resting a hand on your shoulder. she leans over to whisper something into your ear. “we heard the boys arguing about it… i know you didn’t do it, y/n”

shit. your eyes stay on the floor, afraid to look up. “talk to him, please y/n”, yuna begs.

you jerk your head up towards her, “seungmin?”

“yeah? who else? dummy”

you consider it for a moment, maybe this was your chance to clear out the tension between you two. “i’ll think about it”

you weren’t lying. you thought about it all night. you know he wouldn’t want to, but maybe, just maybe, he’d give you one more chance.

you finish styling your hair and doing your makeup, flattening down the sides of your hot pink dress. you thought it’d fit the theme for the party tonight because of the comeback.

you’re not quite sure why you’re even invited, but a party is a party right? you quickly drive there, making a mental note not to drink at all. you need to be in proper condition to get home.

you finally walk into the room, all the girls rushing to you instantly. lily is squealing because of your outfit, while yeji is fixing the jewelry adorning your neck. you all have a blast. that is, until the boys noticed you.

you’re suddenly reminded of how you left the boys in the first place, a little discomfort visible on your face. suddenly, you’re dragged away from the girls by seungmin, unable to free yourself from his hold.

“ooa- y/nnie! you’re here?”, he slurs.

yeah. he was definitely drunk. since when did he start calling you y/nnie anyways? “you’re drunk, dumbass”

“well duh- you look prettyyy”

his words get more confusing by the second. why is he acting like this towards you? “thanks min”

he giggles at the nickname, a sound you don’t hear very often, until an arm grabs him behind. “oh gosh y/n, i’m so sorry, he’s been looking for you all night”, jeongin says with a nervous chuckle.

“all night…?”

“shhh don’t tell her”, seungmin pleaded with puppy eyes.

“tell me what?”, he’s piqued your interest now.

jeongin begins to speak, “noth-“

“that i’m in love with youuu”

your jaw drops, jeongin’s does too. you both share a look, then turning to look at seungmin, who’s already lunging towards you. he clings onto your arm, smiling and nuzzling into your shoulder.

“jeongin. how long did you know about this?!”

he looks at you, the expression on his face is one of guilt. “almost a year now…”

your eyes widen, and you stare at seungmin. his face is bright red, too wasted to comprehend what is happening right now. jeongin says a quick goodbye, leaving you to deal with seungmin.

“y/nnieeee can we go to your house? it’s too loud here”, he pouts. you consider it for a moment, but then you remember how he might react when he wakes up in the morning.

he grabs your arm, kissing over the burn that he gave you. you didn’t push him away though, but not because it felt good. of course it didn’t feel good. okay… maybe it felt good.

maybe seungmin would appreciate you taking him home rather than being stuck with seven drunk guys. you look down at him again, who’s hopelessly clinging onto your arm. “pleaseeee?”, he asks with puppy eyes.

how can someone look so cute doing that?

wait. what? what are you thinking? kim seungmin is far from cute. of course, you still gave in and agreed though. “fine, but you can’t trash my house okay?”

“mmph okay”, he slurs. you quickly drag him out of the place, saying your goodbyes and rushing him to your car before people can ask questions. he sits comfortably in your car, hands placed in his lap and soft hums leaving his lips.

his voice is laced with exhaustion, and even then it sounds so beautiful. you stay silent on the way home, not wanting to interrupt his singing.

“we’re here”, you say quietly.

seungmin quickly exits the car before you can even put your hand on the handle and opens the door for you.

what a gentleman.

you laugh at his silly antics, and a frown makes its way onto his face. “i’m sorry, i wanted to help you a little too.”, he spoke softly.

you look up at him while you exit the car, his lower lip quivering slightly. you don’t say anything, but you grab his hand and lead him inside to your room.

you grab a change of clothes for him and rush to the bathroom to get dressed for bed. when you’re finished, you walk out again to see seungmin sitting on the bed, crying.

“what’s wrong min?”

“w-who’s clothes are these? do you have a boyfriend? why do you have guys’ clothes?”

you couldn’t help but giggle at his jealousy, walking towards him to wipe away his tears. “they’re my ex’s, he left them behind.”

he looks at you, eyes still a deep red from crying. “n-no! i don’t want to wear these! i don’t want to remind you of your ex…”

the frown is back on your face, and you’re quick to comfort him. “they’re the only clothes i have, i don’t want you to be uncomfortable at night. please?”

he smiles at you again, “okay!”

he rushes to the bathroom to go change, you’re a little surprised at the lack of convincing it took for him to change as well. he comes out of the bathroom, a wide smile plastered on his freshly washed face after seeing you.

you grab an extra blanket from the room, “you can sleep in the bed”

the frown reappears once again, “what? where are you going? stay with me, please?”, he pouts.

you smiled at him again, setting the blanket down and laying in your bed. surely there was enough space for the both of you, right?

he lays down next to you, instantly spooning you. you knew there was no fighting it, and instead thought about how you’d explain all this to seungmin in the morning.

“don’t tell anyone about my secret please”

“i won’t, don’t worry seungmin.”

you wake up to warm breath fanning over your lips, seungmins soft hands holding yours. it takes a moment in your sleep ridden mind to process your proximity with seungmin, only a mere centimeter away from kissing him.

it takes everything in you to pull away as far as you can, but that doesn’t stop you from admiring him. there is no scowl evident on his face, nor is there a judgemental look. he looks like he’s at peace, you think he looks much better like this.

you quickly go back to sleep, wanting to avoid the awkward moment where seungmin realizes that he’s in your bed alone. you’d like to keep him some company.

only an hour later, seungmin wakes up, slowly taking in his surroundings. you’re still asleep, cheek squished into the pillow and lips puckered right in front of him.

he sits up abruptly, a blush covering his face and ears. what happened last night? “mmm seungmin?”

his head jerks towards your figure again. so, he’s not hallucinating. you’re actually there. “what am i doing here?”

“we were at the party last night and you got super drunk. you refused to leave me alone and insisted we go home because it was too loud in there.”

he thinks for a moment, before you cut off his thoughts again. “we didn’t do anything, don’t worry.”

a sigh of relief leaves his lips, “thank you for… uh- bringing me here.”, he says sheepishly. “mhm”, you mumble. you get out of bed, getting ready for the day and unboxing the spare toothbrush you have.

you finish freshening up, “the green toothbrush is yours, its new”

a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips, you don’t think you’ve ever seen sober seungmin smile at you. “thanks”.

he meets you in the kitchen not long after, and you drive him back to the dorms, meeting with jeongin before you leave.

“listen, i know that the whole thing yesterday happened but please don’t tell seungmin i know.”

“what? why not?”

“if anything, i want him to tell me… on his own terms”, you reply.

jeongin understands where you’re coming from, so he nods and decides to drop it. “thanks for bringing seungmin home”, he says with a smile.

“it’s no problem”, you smile back.

you quickly make your way down the hall and get in your car to leave. the past couple hours have finally began to process in your brain.

kim seungmin, the bane of your existence, has a cute little crush on you. how sweet.

“did you guys do anything?!”, lia asked excitedly.

“no, nothing happened. i just brought him home because he was upset about the noise”, you chuckle nervously.

“awh”, she pouts, “i was hoping for something when i saw you both leave together”

you shake your head, and continue doing her makeup.

all of a sudden, you get a call from

stray kids’ manager. “hello?”

“hey, is this y/n? we’re not quite sure why but the boys really need your help. we heard crashing but they wouldn’t let us in after the stylist rushed out. could you come over real quick?”

“i’ll be there in five”

you quickly finish up lia’s makeup and rush out the room, afraid that something bad has happened.

you knock on the door, careful not to startle any of the boys. “hello? it’s y/n”

before you can take a breath, the door swings open and you’re met with a disheveled minho. you peer behind him, locking eyes with seungmin. his hair was a mess, as well as the eyeshadow smeared across his face.

minho lets you in, locking the door behind you. you walk over to seungmin, who’s sitting in a chair in front of the mirror. the boys tend to themselves again, getting their own makeup done before leaving the room completely.

“kiss another one of your stylists?”, you joke.

you notice the upset look on his face and figure you should just shut up for now, quickly removing his eye makeup.

his eyes open again, watching as you open another pallette and grab a brush. his eyes immediately dart to the dark purple burn mark on your skin, guilt eating him away more and more.

why do you still care about him? why do you keep doing things for him when he ruined so much for you? seungmin never cries, he couldn’t let himself. not in front of you.

but the tears were inevitable, small droplets trickling down his face. you turn around, heart immediately plummeting to your stomach. “what’s wrong min?”

he quickly grabs a tissue, dabbing away the tears. “i’m sorry for um… the burn”.

you look down at your arm, the dark purple seared into your skin. “oh this? this is nothing, dont worry about it”

you approach him with the brush again, swiping away a stray tear before you dry his eyes and get back to work. you think about the time he kissed over the scar. even though he was drunk, you knew he felt guilty about it.

“im sorry i made you lose your job.”

wow. kim seungmin… apologizing? twice?

“oh it’s no big deal, i’m just with itzy now”

“no, it is a big deal. the boys all miss you now, they’re still angry with me. no stylist puts up with me anymore, you were the only one. i didn’t mean to make you lose your job, i just… didn’t want you crushing on my friends anymore”

you smile a little at him, his motive suddenly becoming clear. he kissed you because he was jealous. he didn’t want you crushing on his friends, he wanted you crushing on him.

“well, i can’t come back, that’s the managers decision, but if they let me… i will. i promise. it was a silly crush that wore off in a couple days anyways.”

you could see the faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips, but he hid it as well as he possibly could. you spoke a little more about upcoming plans, wanting to avoid the subject because it was clearly making seungmin feel guilty.

after finishing his hair and makeup, you admire the work youve done on him in only ten minutes. what you didn’t account for though, was the proximity between you two.

you’re only inches away from his face, eyes tracing every feature and outline. seungmins face flushed red, as does yours, but neither of you pull away. your faces inch closer to eachother, a nervous look on his.

“seungmin! are you two done yet?”, you hear chan yell from outside.

you quickly scramble to distance yourself, helping seungmin up from the chair, your faces still bright red. maybe you were too blinded by his attitude to admit your feelings.

you open the door to see chan, a smile on his face when he notices the blush on your cheeks. “what, did you two kiss or something?”, he teased.

“kiss her?!”, seungmin asked incredulously.

you just laughed. you didn’t need to be upset anymore. you knew it was all just an act.

“there’s really no need to punish seungmin. it happened a long time ago, and he’s already apologized to me personally.”

you’re discussing getting your job back with the managers of stray kids, finally joining back as stray kids’ stylist.

you go through the many formalities, a little upset that you have to leave itzy, but you’re glad you’re back. the girls understand of course, which you are incredibly grateful for.

“you’re back? like really?!”, jisung asks excitedly.

you nod your head, giving him a sweet smile. the boys begin to cheer, but your eyes are fixed on seungmin. his wide smile drops as soon as you look at him, and you pout.

he quickly turns towards the mirror, not wanting you to know what your pout does to him.

“whos… that”

“i’m not sure, but they seem to be very touchy”, yuna observes.

why is a random girl being so touchy with seungmin? and… why does it bother you?

the more you really comprehend your thoughts, the more you truly process to what extent you like seungmin. it’s difficult for you not to confess, to keep your feelings a secret.

you continue to stare at the girl, when ryujin finally snapped you out of it. “why do you keep staring hm? are you perhaps… jealous?”, she teased.

you look at her dead in the eye, unsure about how to respond. that’s when she realizes you’re serious. “wait… really?”

you nod lightly, finally coming to terms with your feelings now. your eyes avert their gazes, suddenly embarrassed. “well now we have to set you up!”

you jerk your head up to look at her again. “are you crazy? what if that girl is his girlfriend?”

“baby, i think you’re too focused on the girl to see the clear disgust on seungmins face right now.”, jisung chimes in.

you jump, a little startled, “jeez ji, how long have you been there?”

“long enough to hear that you have a little liking for my friend”

the girls sense the atmosphere of the conversation, quickly leaving you with jisung to talk. “sorry ji, i don’t mean to… intrude or anything.”

“oh not at all! i’m just curious about how you’re planning to confess.”

“i’m… not quite sure yet either”

jisung giggles at your nervousness, “word of advice, he likes his confessions straightforward”

you nod, smiling a little. “thanks ji”, you laugh awkwardly.

“no problem”, he replies with a smile.

you split off to find the girls again, only to be dragged away by jeongin not too long after. “when are you confessing?”, he asks abruptly.

you stare at him, shocked at how direct the question is. “soon… within this week most likely. why?”

“y/n, i shit you not, the boy is going absolutely mad in the dorms. his little crush on you has gotten like a thousand times worse since you brought him to your house that one night”

“oh jeez… okay i’ll- i’ll tell him soon, i promise”, you say with a smile.

“i’m not pressuring you of course, but god i don’t know how much longer i can stand hearing him yap about that shit”

you nod, laughing a little, “understandable”. you turn your head, almost immediately locking eyes with seungmin. it looks could kill, you’re almost certain you’d be dead right now.

your heart sinks to your stomach at the sight on him, and you quickly say goodbye to jeongin and walk off. maybe jeongin isn’t the best person to talk to about these things…

did they have to leave you with seungmin every time you’re styling them?

he averts your gaze, an angrier look on his face than usual. “seungie, what’s wrong?”

his heart flutters at the nickname, almost making him smile, but he focuses. “what’s wrong is that you keep flirting around with my friends.”

“who, jeongin?”

he nods, a little embarrassed after confronting you. “are you jealous i’m stealing your best friend from you?”

“no, i’m jealous because my best friend is stealing you from me”

seungmin quickly clamps a hand over his mouth, processing what he’s just said. “i- i didn’t-“

you stare into his eyes, urging him to go on. “fuck it”, he mutters under his breath. “y/n, i am fucking infatuated with you, you know? i…”

you grab his hand and smile at him, stroking over his knuckles gently. “i’m sorry ive been such a bitch to you recently, but you never seemed to really notice me before this. i thought that maybe if i was mean to you, it could help me hide my own feelings…”

he opens his eyes again to see you again, only centimeters away from his face this time. you inch closer towards his face, stopping right before your lips touched. “don’t push me away this time min… please.”

he closed the gap between you two in a soft kiss, smiling against him as he chased you even more. you pull away, “i like you too seungmin, a lot”

he chuckles, pulling you onto his lap, “i liked you first.”

your lips meet in a kiss again, and felix knocks on the door, opening it not to long after. “you guys okay in… oh- i’m- i’ll just-“, he stutters over his words as he rushes out the door, closing it again.

you and seungmin giggle again, and you quickly finish his makeup before bringing him outside. the boys all give you teasing looks, and you have to brush them off before you get too flustered.

on the other hand, every time it’s mentioned, seungmin has a big goofy smile on his face, one that you can’t stop yourself from admiring. he turns to you again, his eyes softening when he sees your eyes fixated on his smile.

the boys finish practice, and you meet with all of them later. there’s a frown on seungmins face, probably because he couldn’t focus at all and got all the moves wrong.

you walk over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind him. “what are you doing?”

you giggle, “well, i can’t have my boyfriend being all grumpy in front of his friends can i?”

he turns around quicker than you can process, “boyfriend?”, he says with a hopeful smile. “obviously”, you chuckle.

he places quick pecks onto your lips and nose, completely forgetting that his friends are in the room with him, and if you’ll be honest, so did you.

you’re brought out of your thoughts when changbin finally speaks up.

“yoh! can you two get a room?”

#skz #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #stray kids #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #atinyniki #skz fanfic #seungmin #kim seungmin x reader #seungmin x reader #seungmin angst #seungmin fluff #skz seungmin #kim seungmin fluff #kim seungmin #kim seungmin angst

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addisonnie · 1 year

Text

you, me, & mary-jane

summary: dealer!ellie comes in clutch in more ways than one.

warnings: make-out sesh, cursing, terrible breaking bad references

a/n: surprise! another ellie fic because i refuse to do the schoolwork that i desperately need to finish! wooooooooo dealer ellie is yum. i actually kinda hate this! enjoy! oh god also listen to “meddle about” by chase atlantic while you read if you would like. ellie=chase atlantic okay bye

part 2 —> part 3

There are several things in life that you can live without. Weed is not one of them.

You’re huffing and borderline growling as you dig through various stash locations in your room. Closet, empty. Under the mattress, nothing but crumbs. In every single pants pocket? Zero. Zilch. Not one lush green nug was found.

What could be chalked up to a literal war cry left your lips as you sat on the floor with your head in your hands, “this is it. This is the end.”

Dina’s head poked up from the side of her bed, “what are you whining about down there?”

Leaning your head back onto the wall, you sent Dina a harsh glare, “you and Jesse smoked the last of it! And I’m flat broke, too!”

She sat up fully in her bed, eyes wide and crazy, “bitch! Don’t pin this on us! You said it was fine.”

“That was last night! This is today! Today I just want to smoke my silly little bowl and enjoy my silly little high.” You groan and knock your head against the wall a few times.

Fishing your phone from your back pocket, you open iMessage. Hopefully your plug isn’t busy right now. Last time you bought from him was in the parking lot of his youngest child’s soccer game. Maybe buying from a 40-something father of three isn’t always the best idea—at least he won’t rip you off?

Hey. You busy?

Tom usually responds right away. His clients doubled as his friends (you being his ex-babysitter) and he always loved to provide for them.

Who is this?

Well, that’s strange. Tom definitely has your number saved. And, Tom definitely knows who you are.

Don’t play, Tom. I want to buy!!!!

You watch the text bubbles pop up and disappear in the bottom corner of the screen a few times, showing that he’s typing out a response and deleting it over and over.

This is his wife. Don’t text this number again. He is married. And he does not sell what you want to “buy.”

You could really cry at this moment. Like, honestly and truly sob. A long huff leaves your lips and you knuckle at your eyes aggressively. Fucking bullshit. Tom’s wife was always kind of a bitch, to be fair. But you didn’t think she’d ever pull a Skylar White on you. What does a girl have to do to get some weed around here?

“Do you know any other dealers? I just got told off by Tom’s wife.” Dina laughed from her bed.

“My name is Skylar White, yo. My husband is Walter White, yo.” You couldn’t help but laugh, “that’s exactly what I was thinking!”

She sits up in her bed, hanging her tanned legs off the side, “here. I have mutual friends with this girl, think her name is Ellie? I heard she sells. Good prices too.”

Dina tosses her phone into your lap from where she sits and allows you to send the contact to yourself.

Hey. Is this Ellie?

———

Ellie takes a couple hours before responding.

It depends on who’s asking?

Your professor drones on about some random Shakespeare play and you can’t bring yourself to pay attention while you read over Ellie’s text.

Dina gave me your number, I heard you sell?

Man. I really hope you’re not a cop.

You chuckle at her text.

Not a cop. Twenty year old girl over here. I love One Direction.

That sounds like something an undercover cop would say.

Ellie made a good point. You scroll through your camera roll trying to find a recent selfie before landing on one you took a couple days ago. You’re clearly high in the picture, so maybe Ellie will take the hint.

Here. Proof. Not a cop :)

Pretty.

She sent her address in a separate text and informs you to meet her there around 7pm when she’s done with her night class. Your professor excuses the class and leaves the remainder of students to pack their things. 5pm. Usually you smoke before going to pick up. Clearly, that’s not an option today. What does one do while they wait if they have no weed?

———

Nothing. One does absolutely nothing if they have no weed.

You knock on Ellie’s front door and wait a few beats before stepping back from the doorway. The lock clicks before the dingy wooden door opens inward,

“Hey!”

Oh, damn. She is fine.

Her auburn hair is short and rests about an inch above her shoulders. It’s pulled slightly up into a bun and several short strands curl lightly along the nape of her neck.

“Hey! Ellie, right?”

She smiles, “that’s me.” The door is pulled open wider and she beckons you to come inside. A botanical tattoo swirls along her forearm and you find yourself staring at her awkwardly before you step into the house.

She tugs off her flannel and slings it over the back of a woven couch, leaving her in a fitted white tank top.

You suck in a breath, “how are you?”

How are you? Really? Who says that to a drug dealer?

She chuckles and slouches into the couch, patting the open spot beside her, “pretty good. How about you?”

“Honestly? I’m suffering.”

She laughs fully this time, “that bad, huh? Your dealer die or something?”

“God, I wish. His wife responded to my text and told me to fuck off, basically. That he doesn’t sell what I buy.” Ellie cringes and shakes her head, her lips pressed into a tight frown,

“she Skylar-Whited you? That’s pretty fucking rough.”

“That’s exactly what I said! Call me Jesse Pinkman, I guess.” Ellie shook her head again and leaned forward to grab a small mahogany box.

Her long fingers opened the lid and scrounged through the container before she happily hummed and held up what she was looking for. A joint was pressed between her fingers and she quickly snatched a lighter off the coffee table.

After she placed the box back on the table, she leaned back into the couch and stretched her arm along the back of it, her fingers barely grazing your shoulder. Ellie turned to face you and held the joint to your lips, “open up.”

Your face flushes as you do what she asked—demanded. Her fingers place the joint onto your awaiting lips and she quickly lights the paper, still holding the joint to your mouth.

What is this girl on? You can’t help but feel as if this is strangely intimate. Tom never held a joint to your lips! On second thought, it’s probably good that he didn’t.

You inhale and she pulls the joint to meet her own mouth as she watches you exhale.

“We can smoke this and then I’ll grind up some for you.” She passes you the joint this time.

“Oh—you don’t have to. I can take the nugs. I don’t want to trouble you.” You pass it back.

She smirks, the joint hanging from the side of her mouth, “no trouble at all. Happy to do it.”

“Is that what you tell all of your clients?”

Another smirk, “only the pretty ones.”

The joint is placed back into your fingertips and you are very glad, this way you can explain the extreme blush creeping up onto your cheeks as just you being overly high. Ellie has somehow moved closer to you, her thigh is pressed up against yours and the arm she has outstretched across the back of the couch skims the back of your shoulders. A chill rakes through your body, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“Here, take it.” The hand she has resting behind your head snatches her discarded flannel and drops it into your lap.

“Oh—thanks.” She hums in response.

———

Ellis is funny as hell. Each sentence that escapes her plump lips makes less sense than the last,

“would you rather be trapped in a locked room with a gorilla, or with…with a shit ton of cockroaches?”

She’s sitting opposite you on the couch, her back leaning against one armrest. One of her legs is bent and squished against the back of the couch, her other is sprawled off the edge of the couch. Bit of a man-spreader, this one. Your back is pressed to the opposite arm rest and your legs are stretched outward, resting softly in her lap.

Again, weirdly intimate.

“Oh. Fuck, probably the roaches? Just step on ‘em. Yanno?”

She gasps and latches onto your sock-clad feet, “sickening! Me and that gorilla are gonna be friends.”

You squint at her, “you gonna sell him some Mary-Jane?”

“Yup,” she pops the ‘p’ and passes you the remainder of the joint. Your fingers skim over hers and she blushes a bit, nudging your finger with hers.

“Hey—so how much do I owe you?” You immediately regret ruining the moment the second the words pass your lips.

“Well, flattery works with me—“ you cut her off, “oh yeah? I would’ve kissed you earlier, had I known that.”

She flushes, “you can—um. You can still kiss me. If you want.”

And, just like that, your eyes turn into hearts and start beating rapidly. You surge forward and press your lips to hers, smiling into the kiss when she flicks the joint out of her fingertips and grabs your cheeks, pulling you closer.

Her mouth melds to yours and immediately has you panting like a bitch in heat. She moves one of her hands to pinch at your hip, grasping and probing at you until you wind up straddling her lap. You press your chest into hers and squeak when you feel her hand push your hip down, effectively grinding you down onto her. A strangled whine leaves your lips as she pulls away and begins kissing down the column of your throat.

Her mouth is wet and firm while she sucks and nips on any naked skin she can find, moaning when she feels your fingers card through her hair. Your hips continually rut into hers and she quickly sets a different pace, gripping your hips and dragging you forward and back on her lap. Ellie moans when you grab her hair and pull. Her face is removed from your neck at the force of your tug and she pants to catch her breath before opening her eyes to meet yours.

“How’s free sound?” She gives you a crooked smirk and presses an open-mouthed kiss to your throat.

“Sounds like I’m ripping you off, Ellie.”

She groans and throws her head back onto the couch, “I love the way you say my name. And it’s not ripping me off, babe.”

And you’re blushing again. Babe. She called you babe.

She continues, “think of it as a little sampler. Free shared joint, some ground up weed, and some Ellie.”

You grab her cheeks and squish them together, “only if you swear this sampler is offered to me only. Can’t have anyone stealing my deals.”

She brushes your hands off and smirks again, “like I said earlier, pretty girls only.”

“You said ‘girls’ plural.” She laughs.

“I’ve got three clients. A grown man named Joel, one of the sociology professors—don’t tell anyone I said that. Then you. And I’m a lesbian, so…” She trails off at the end of her sentence and looks down at your lips again, hands splayed across your thighs.

You kiss her again. It’s short and chaste and it leaves Ellie chasing your lips for just one more. Two more. Three. How’s five sound?

She presses kisses to your puckered lips over and over, “all,” kiss, “the weed,” kiss, “you can,” kiss, “dream of.”

Ellie finally pulls away to fully look at you, “I mean it. You can have all the weed you want if you keep kissing me like that.”

————

When you finally clamber off of her lap and detach her hands from your hips it’s almost one in the morning. She sighs while she watches you stuff your ‘goody bag’ into your purse, slipping your shoes back on. Her fingers beckon you back to the couch and she taps your right leg until you bend it and rest your foot on top of her thigh. You were planning on walking home with your shoes untied, but Ellie’s nimble fingers quickly double knot each of your shoes; She presses a kiss to each of your knees before letting them straighten back out.

Her hands find your hips again—shocker— while she walks you to the front door. A kiss is pressed to your lips one last time and she gives you a firm squeeze when you lean in to hug her.

“Come back soon. Fuck that guy, I’m your new dealer for life.” You smile and step outside, “okay.”

She definitely tied your shoes too tight and you make a mental note to fix it when you’re out of her eyesight. As you’re walking down the sidewalk that leads you to campus she calls your name,

“Get home safe, yeah? Text me when you’re back!”

You will definitely text her.

#wooooo #ellie williams #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie x reader #tlou #ellie tlou

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