#and then their frozen BEAUTIFUL after eyebrows | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

greg-montgomery · 2 months

Text

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader ♡ (boyfriend’s dad!hotch) - 18+ minors dni

summary: part 2 to this.

your bf cheated on you? fuck his dad!

cw: uhmm a little bit of choking? age gap.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“Put your phone away.”

Mark stared at his father for a moment without even lifting his head, and then continued to type on his phone.

“You’re being rude,” Aaron said.

“What’s your problem?”

“Your brother has been talking about this dinner all week. When Jack sits at the table, that thing better not be in your hands. Understood?”

“Understood,” Mark said, and placed the phone right next to his plate harsh enough to make Aaron wonder if the screen cracked.

Despite his annoyed appearance, Mark kept his promise and stayed engaged in the conversation with Jack. His little brother admired him and Aaron would do anything to protect his son’s feelings - even from someone who shared the same blood as him.

Still, Aaron had no complaints; Jack seemed happy and that was more than he could have asked for.

Sadly his feelings quickly changed, when after dinner he accidently overheard Mark talking on the phone. Aaron was a profiler, but any regular person could easily understand he was flirting with a girl. The only problem though, was that the name he had called said girl, was not yours.

Mark made his way outside the kitchen only to be stopped by his dad with a hand on his chest.

“Who were you talking to?”

“What the hell is wrong with you today?”

“Who were you talking to?” Aaron repeated, determined not to give him an easy way out.

Mark raised his eyebrow at him. “Don’t you think I’m a little too old to be asked questions like this by my dad?”

“Are you cheating on Y/N?”

“Why are you so fucking obsessed with her?” he snapped. “Why do you even care?”

“I didn’t raise a cheater.”

“No, you don’t give a fuck about me. It’s her you care about.” He smirked, and Aaron was worried his next words would be exactly what he was afraid of.

Mark confirmed his fears. “You think I don’t see the way you look at her? You wanna fuck my girlfriend and then be the one who teaches me about ethics?”

Aaron stood there frozen watching him walk away, too stunned to stop Mark from leaving without saying good night to his little brother.

Ethics.

His son was right. There was nothing ethical about the way he looked at you. There was nothing ethical about the way he wanted to steal you from Mark. And there was definitely nothing ethical about the way he had fucked his fist in the shower to the thought of you that same night you had asked for his help.

But Mark didn’t treat you right, he knew that. You deserved better and Aaron could be that for you.

He’d hold you in his arms, keep you safe from the rest of the world, let you know how beautiful and precious you were. Then he’d sit you in all fours and take you until you forgot your own name.

“This is so wrong,” you sighed, rolling your hips forward and the word ‘wrong’ went straight to his dick.

“That’s why it feels so fucking good, baby,” he said staring at your lips and you leaned in to kiss his open mouth.

How did he get there? In any empty parking lot, and his son’s girlfriend riding his cock?

- -

It all started with a sweet “Mr. Hotchner?” when he picked up his phone in the middle of the night.

Then those two beautiful eyes he’d do anything for, looking at him like he was their hero.

“You said you’ll always be here. That’s why I called you,” you said when you were inside his car. Your cheeks were smudged with mascara and he wanted to murder the reason behind your tears. Only the reason was of course no other than his own son.

“You did well, sweetheart.” He cupped your cheek rubbing it with his thumb, and you nuzzled his hand. “You can trust me.”

“I do.”

It was impossible for him to keep his hands away or not to leave a soft kiss on your forehead.

“It’s over,” you sniffled. “This is the second time he cheats on me. I’ve had enough.”

“He never deserved you, honey. I’m sorry he hurt you.”

“Don’t be. You’re nothing like him,” you whispered. “How are you two even related?”

Your hand found his and your fingers naturally intertwined.

The kisses on your forehead soon turned into kisses on your cheeks and then on the corners of your mouth. He couldn’t stop and the way you were trembling against him was an invitation to touch you more.

“I shouldn’t be doing this,” he muttered against the skin of your neck and you pulled his hair softly. He shouldn’t be doing that, but he’d rather take his last breath at that moment than let you go.

“I know. But I need you so bad,” you whined.

“Take off your panties and come to my lap.”

Aaron watched the fabric move all the way down your legs and pulled you into his lap. Before he had the chance to lift up your dress, you started rubbing yourself against him. He took your chin between his fingers and made you look at him. “Aren’t you a desperate little thing?”

“I wanted you to fuck me from the day we met.”

“I know.”

The feeling of your wet pussy against his slacks and the sound of your little moans drove him crazy. He bit your right nipple through your dress and you finally called him ‘Aaron’.

“Say my name again.”

“Aaron, Aaron, Aaron,” you moaned, moving desperately against him.

“Baby, I need to be inside you,” he said.

Once he was buried in you, his hands went on your hips, guiding you, showing you the pace he needed you at.

You were so good; such a good learner.

“This is so wrong.”

“That’s why it feels so fucking good, baby.”

You leaned in to kiss him and Aaron took the opportunity to wrap his hand around your neck. He noticed you failing to bite back a loud moan.

“You like that, huh?”

“Mhm…”

“Want me to rub your little clit too? Will that make you cum faster, sweetie?”

“Fuck, yes.”

He did as promised, moving his free hand between your legs, touching you softly and slowly. He loved the tortured expression on your face.

“Faster, please,” you begged him.

“You’re so fucking desperate,” he moaned, and picked up his pace.

It didn’t take much longer for you to cum, and he followed right after you.

You didn’t leave his lap. Aaron wrapped his arms around you protectively and pulled you so close to him, it was hard to tell where his body ended and yours started.

“What now?” you whispered, your face hidden in the crook of his neck.

“Now you’re mine.”

tags : @hotchhner @sabage101 @yurfavmommy @mrs-ssa-hotch @justarandommom @m4gn3ziu @rosaliedepp @indigosamsblog

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #hotch #boyfriend's dad!hotch #hotch 🪐#nsfw.

1K notes · View notes

whereflowerswenttodie · 14 days

Text

will you remember my name when the sun comes up?

[ft. gojo satoru] [angst]

ten months ago, your doctor had diagnosed you with early onset dementia, ten months later you've begun to forget aspects of your life you'd wanted to cherish.

or gojo satoru spends the night worrying if you will still be his wife when the morning comes around.

content warning: dementia, angst, miscarriage.

word count: 2.6k

The moonlight bounces off your skin, illuminating the curves of your sleeping figure in a yellow-tinted glow. The scene is reminiscent of most nights when he stayed up gazing at your sleeping face after hours of making you his. The night is silent today, the air is hotter too; he cannot tell if it's the heat of the summer air that is suffocating him or if the fear of your possibly doomed future is choking him to a premature death.

He looks at your face, peaceful, as you snore through the night, your eyebrows twitching here and there. He wonders what dreams you might be having tonight. Gojo likes looking at you; it is probably his favorite thing to do, and he enjoys it the most. Your resting face brings him joy, hope, and with deep shame and guilt, it also brings him happiness. An almost nostalgic feeling strikes him as he gazes at your sleeping form. Your expressions in the moment fall in such contrast with the mask you wear during the day, one of helpless confusion and anguish that it baffles him and makes him want to break down, scream and claw his heart out to cease the empty feeling that takes over his existence.

He remembers, with utter vividness, your face the first time he saw you. Looking more beautiful than anyone he had ever laid eyes on, you were cladded in a pink summer dress — you later told him was your favorite (he had followed through with buying you a dozen of those dresses you liked to wear so much in the first month of your relationship, albeit with resistance and scoldings from you.) — you were buying pastries in the streets of Harajuku. A hearty chuckle ignites from him at the memory, lucid as if it were last week when he had met you.

It was a Wednesday, he remembers, boring as every other day of the week. Gojo thinks he had been bored after Geto had forsaken him in Shinjuku, but your presence had brought with itself euphoria that he loved to indulge and drown in.

You had bought the very last of his favorite mochi, Kikufuku. Well no, let’s let him correct himself over here, you had bought all but one Kikufuku, and Gojo Satoru — true to the nature and entitlement that came with being the only Gojo Satoru — had tried to jestly dispute with you over the ownership of the said dessert. But one look at your puzzled face and his tantrum was forgotten. He had physically felt his annoyance melting away as his heart skipped one too many beats.

And God he remembers you, yeah? He does. Ever the sweet you, who had felt terrible for having bought the very last of his treasured Kikufuku, so you had offered two of your five pieces to him. Your brows furrowed in confusion and sadness at having to give away your portion of the dish, and for the very first time in his life, he had refused to accept his favorite mochi. But you had insisted, not taking no for an answer, it was your first salary you had told him. You said you didn’t want to make anyone sad by your first purchase.

“Please take them, please?” your sweet voice had reverberated through the crowded streets. He doesn’t think your voice was loud, but he remembers it being saccharine, akin to bells tinkling at a shrine, but bells he would want to wake up to every morning, bells he would want to lull him to sleep every night.

You had looked up at him with the most adorable puppy-eyes he had ever witnessed, little Megumi’s supposedly threatening face had fallen in surrender to that look. Oh he sounds captivated by you, and he swears by his six eyes, that had frozen in on your face for moments too long, far too many times, that he was and he will always be.

At the end, Satoru had relented, but he had asked convinced you to enjoy those with him at the end of the street. And unbeknownst to him, he had spent another two hours just chatting up with you. This was the happiest he had been in months, years even. You did not ask him to stop talking, or to keep his voice low. No, in fact you had been excited, not like the random women he met at the bars on rare nights, not even like–

Oh, you reminded him of Suguru at that moment. Talking to you felt nostalgic, he felt at peace the same way he did with Suguru, his one and only. His best friend. He can still recall the guilt that had engulfed him in that moment, the fear of possibly replacing Suguru with a non-sorcerer, the kind his best friend hated. And it all sounded too impractical, too reckless, he needed to pull back. To cower away from your touch. He wanted to, but you had been too captivating, too addictive.

He would have pulled away, would have left you to become another faceless woman he had met, would have let you become a memory bound to be forgotten, but you–

“So is this a date?” you blurt out. Satoru knows the words are thoughtless, spoken in the spur of the moment, he can see you recoiling, he six eyes can perceive the fear of possible commitment clouding your senses, “Oh my God, that was so–”

“Only if you promise to go on a second one with me,” he cuts you off, his own offer an impulse, just as reckless as yours.

Those dates turned into a hundred more and then a series of events that led to today, where you lied in his bed, as his lovely wife. And tomorrow you might not remember him, your husband.

He remembers all your dates, your smile, the first time you met the kids, how gracefully you had made his almost family your own. His six eyes remember you far better than you remember yourself–

Gojo chokes at the thought. The pain is unbearable for him, the fear of oblivion takes up the space next to him in the form of his own wife.

Gojo Satoru has been hailed as the strongest in this world, nobody has ever surpassed his strength, he can vaguely recall Jogo’s words to him before he was sealed on that fateful night.

“Is there anything you cannot do, Gojo Satoru?”

He feels like a maniac wanting to laugh at the words of an arrogant curse, one he could have easily squashed. He is the strongest after all, there is nothing he cannot do.

He knows he tampered the balance of the world when he was born. He also knows that within this universe among curses and sorcerers: he is all alone. The honored one. The man nearest to the glory of God. Gojo Satoru knows the world better than most do, and yet as he looks at your sleeping face, he cannot even reassure himself if his wife of seven years will remember him next week or next morning.

He wants to pray.

But who does a God prays to listen to his pleas?

Gojo Satoru doesn’t know if he’s a God or an undefeated monster.

But who ever prays for the devil to be forgiven for his sins had he committed an act of treachery?

Gojo Satoru cannot make his wife remember him if she forgets him, and the fear keeps him up every night.

It is very lonely at the top, and he fears come tomorrow and he might forever sleep in isolation, albeit beside the one he cherishes and worships like the goddess of the mightiest glory.

Life was not supposed to be difficult, not like this, it was supposed to be simpler. You were supposed to be sleeping with him beside you, and Satoru was supposed to be less anguished.

You were supposed to have twins. Crying in the room beside yours, keeping the two of you up at night, he had promised you he would be the one changing diapers, because in the initial stages of your relationship you had playfully told him a baby would require changing diapers so you didn’t want a kid.

And no, they weren’t a part of your family planning, Megumi and Tsumiki were enough. But they came, and you learned to love them, a welcoming thought. He did too, but he feared for you, you were weak and they were the children of the strongest.

You were six months into your pregnancy, when you felt a sharp pain in your abdomen, you tried calling him while he was stuck fighting a special grade. He got off to see the twenty-four missed calls from you, and seven from an unknown number. He tried calling back to you, his heart getting heavier with fear and anxiety as he got sent to voicemail, one that you recorded with him screaming in the background. He dialed the unknown number, the words of the woman on the other line still scare him just as much.

Gojo Satoru has only ever felt fear thrice in his life: once when Toji Fushiguro killed him for the first time, the second followed with the exit of Geto Suguru, and the third came as a curse in the form of his said best friend appearing in front of him to seal him into that cursed box, all while he thought about you.

Yet none of them could’ve compared to that moment when he heard those fateful words for the first time, you had been into a life threatening accident, everything that followed after it was a blur.

“Your kids did not make it,” the doctors told him they had passed away much before the accident, that your car collided with a tree and toppled over from the possible shock of that incident.

Gojo had tried his hardest to restrain himself from cursing his unborn children, you would want better, he had told himself and he still does to this day.

The relief that followed him as the doctor informed him that you will soon wake up was only partially taken over by the grief of losing his unborn children. And he wishes to curse himself for it still, but he cannot as he looks back at your sleeping face.

The signs were unnoticeable at the beginning, they started out slow, with small things.

You didn’t remember where you kept Megumi’s uniform (he lived at the dorm), but you had both shrugged it off at the time.

You couldn’t remember where you had kept the flour in the cabinet (Satoru cooked), you both shrugged it off again as a possible confusion in case you had tried cooking without letting him know, you didn’t even think about it.

But then you started to forget the names of his coworkers. You couldn’t recognise Utahime, you had both once, a long time ago bonded over teasing him about the silly, little schoolboy crush that he used to harbor for her in his high school years. An information that was passed to you by Shoko. Utahime was one of your closest friends before the incident.

Then you forgot where your bedroom was in the house you both shared together, and he remembers watching your lips quiver and he told you that you will see the doctor in the morning.

And he remembers the doctor breaking the news to you, two days later, you had early on-set dementia caused by your head injury.

And he remembers–

God, he too wants to forget, there’s so much he’d like to forget, like the look on your face as you realize you might lose your memories in the way you had not planned to. Who even makes plans for a possible dementia?

He remembers watching you lose yourself time and time again. Moments where you would gaze into an abyss not being able to remember where you were, instances when you would look into the mirror and try to recognise yourself.

Nobody had ever watched him weep. But that first night when you weren’t able to remember you were both married, he had left your shared bed after you had fallen into a deep slumber, and had spent about thirty minutes crying in the shower of his guest bedroom.

He wailed. He screamed. He punched his tiled wall until he bled, and he didn’t heal the wound, You had asked him how he got it in the morning and he lied to you that he slipped. You didn’t remember his infinity. You probably hadn’t for a long time. You possibly also forgot about his reversed curse technique.

He wishes his RCT could heal your brain injury.

He looks back at your sleeping form again, and a familiar grief pools into his heart as he realizes you will one day lose all cognitive function, that one day he might lose you to this illness.

“She has about eight years to live before she will most likely forget basic functions like eating, sleeping, or even–”

“What are you trying to imply?” he cuts off the doctor, very rudely one must mention.

“I am just saying that she might lose her life to this.”

The doctor’s words haunt his mind, keeping him awake at night. As does his fear that tomorrow you might not be able to recognise him anymore.

He shudders as the memory, fresh from the morning, seeps into his head. You didn’t remember your–

“Where are the kids?” you ask him, perturbed and frazzled as if you had spent hours looking for something important. A lost memory, another unfamiliar instance.

“Megumi is at the dorm–” he speaks, vision hazy with sleep.

“I’m not talking about them, I am asking you where my– our babies went,” he felt his heart drop in that moment, because in another such moment he had held you as you sat on the hospital bed, wailing and screaming for your babies.

“Baby…” he begins, his own voice soft with grief, one that is much different than your own. How many times will he have to break your heart before it is too broken to ever heal?

“Yes?” you speak, confusion clear through your voice, as your face wears that same mask of pain and puzzlement.

“They didn’t make it,” he tells you once more, as he scoops you in his arm, in order to save himself from watching you die all over again. He goes through the pain of it all once again, as do you. But only one of you remembers.

It’s only ever just one of you grieving the loss of life, a tragedy always gone unforgiven.

He remembers the promise you made him to always be with him on the day before your wedding vows.

But, a promise is a promise until one of you forgets.

He looks at the clock beside him, 6:49 AM, he can only hope that when you wake up this morning you’ll remember who he is. That the diary you keep will help you never forget him.

He needs you to remember him, he doesn’t think he can survive a day where you do not know him. It is a necessity. You are his light, and you have slowly been shutting the door to your embrace close on him, you can barely see him trembling in this darkness that you leave him in anymore. He does not want to be left alone, but he knows that once you leave him alone, he will still be visiting the grave of the love that the two of you shared; one where you had thrown away all your memories, if only to look down at the forest of your remains or perhaps to find you running across the field with all that you once cherished.

a/n: idk why i wrote this. this wasn't proofread, because we die like everyone in jjk, and also because my adhd-suffering-self could no longer keep up with this, and i really wanted to go back to writing houses without fathers.

@nanamis-baker had a sneak peak!

credits: @/benkeibear, @/firefly-graphics.

491 notes · View notes

rubiehart · 3 months

Note

How do you think each of the guys would react to you secretly doing a boudoir photo shoot then making a photo book of it and then showing him

i’m gonna assume u mean jj, john b and pope cuz they’re the boys i mostly write for but lmk if this isn’t what you’re looking forrr

with jj you’d be snuggled up on the couch with his arm around your shoulder before you finally pulled away claiming you had a little surprise for him, coming back to with the black leather book in your hands, your cheeks flushing pink and handing him the book all nervous, him raising his eyebrows and running his tongue over his lip as he sees the gold cursive saying ‘for jj’, the look on his face making you clench your thighs together. he stays quiet as he opens the book to the first page being met with a half naked you, tits spilling out of the top of your dainty lingerie, matching lace thong clad on your hips, making his dick jolt to life, “jesus fuckin’ christ.” he’d mumble, turning to the next page and seeing your perfect body spread out on a fancy couch, tits our for his viewing. “you’re so fuckin’ sexy, c’mere.” he mutters as you straddle his lap, feeling his prominent hard on through his sweatpants, groping your tits automatically though your thin crop top. “you’re just so pretty huh? can’t believe i got you all t’ myself.” he mutters, drunk off just your body.

for john b, i feel like he’d just be frozen while he flips though the pages slowly, completely hypnotised by you, the way the fabrics cling to your body and just so out of his mind horny that he’s just not even able to respond coherently, just muttering “fuck.” and “jesus christ, that’s the best one.” every time he turns the page cuz this shit’s just getting better and better!! the gift that keeps on giving!! after he’s done he’s just in shock, turning to you, you’re all nervous about how he feels, but him not even giving you a chance to have anymore negative thoughts before going in for a kiss and muttering against your lips as he strips you down to nothing. “d’ya know how fuckin’ beautiful you are? huh? cuz i’m about to show you.”

pope would just be so sweet about it, every page complimenting you excessively, feeling so happy that you trust him enough to give him something like this. not even thinking about himself as he sits there hard as a fuckin’ rock while he looks at pictures of you all pretty for him in his favourite colours:(( “y’a like the blue one pope? i know it’s your favourite.” you’d mumble, as he nods frantically with dilated pupils, tent in his pants obvious as you just giggle, him reaching up to connect your lips and then having soft sex when he tells you how beautiful you are and that you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, finishing with sweet aftercare (pope is king of aftercare!!) and a lil’ long bubble bath where he’s just washing your hair so gently making sure he does it how you like even though you’re just fucked out in total bliss laying against his chest as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

481 notes · View notes

look-at-the-soul · 3 months

Text

Grandma knows best

Tommy Shelby x reader (+Grandma)

Summary: Thomas Shelby is a well known gánster, reckless, fearless, stubborn, restless… he might be a lot of things, but he wasn’t an inconsiderate man. Not specially with an elderly woman.

A/N: 🤷🏻‍♀️ grandmas definitely knows what’s best for us 👵🏻♥️✨ nothing but a fluff moment…

See the Grandma series here

Word count: 3,303

Taking off you coat, you tried to rub your hands to warm them up. Announcing you just arrived, barely noticing an unfamiliar voice.

But to your surprise, once you stepped into the kitchen, you found the least person you thought that could ever be there.

The Small Heath devil, Thomas Shelby.

“Oh darling, there you are.” You grandma greeted you with a wide smile. “I was just telling Mr. Shelby about you.”

“Grandma.” You were paralyzed, frozen in spot.

Giving you a subtle double look, he had to force himself to compose, nothing your grandmother had said about you prepared him. Your beauty was beyond words. And over the last hour he had heard nothing but compliments and good things, he had to admit he had been curious about that young lady that seemed to be exceptional.

A long time ago you learned walking alone once is dark is a bad idea, but crossing your eyes with that man was worse.

“We haven’t done anything wrong Mr. Shelby…” you tried to explain as the man stared perplexed, his man spread as if he owed everything in that house.

“Sweetheart Mr. Shelby helped me with the groceries and bread, the basket was heavy and he offered to walk me home.”

Noticing the terror in your eyes, he cleared his throat.

“My job is done here Mrs. Barwick, it was lovely to meet you, thank you for the tea.”

Standing up, he grabbed his peaky cap, the razor blade caught the light and shone in your direction. But your grandmother had a different idea.

“What do you mean you’re leaving? You’ve to stay for dinner.”

“Absolutely not.” You rushed to interrupt. Looking down at the tone you just used to answer your grandma you mumbled an apology.

“I really appreciate the offer bu-”

“This is absurd, you can’t leave until you’ve had dinner Mr. Shelby, I must insist, and I need to know the rest of the story of that caravan trip you did.” She replied scolding him just like she did with you, in that motherly tone.

Frowning you looked from her, to the well known gánster. There was no way back now, he was staying for dinner.

“Now, would you like some more tea?” She offered to him, as Thomas opened his mouth to say no, your grandma filled the cup again. It looked ridiculous in his hand.

The most dangerous man in the country drinking tea from a cup decorated with flowers. ¡In your bloody kitchen!

“Milk?” She offered, ignoring the fact that he could kill her anytime. You’ve heard all kinds of stories about him and the tortures he used among his enemies.

“Yes thank you.”

“Sweetheart, would you mind helping me here?” She pointed at the pot next to her knees, it was getting harder for her to bend down these days.

“I’ll get that for you.” He offered and in mere seconds he was crunching down to get it.

“Oh bless you.” Your grandma offered him another smile. “Why are you still standing there?” She called to get your attention.

Shaking your head a little, you were able to move past the initial shock, but still threw the man a side look just to make sure he wasn’t planning to blind your grandmother.

“Shall I cut these?” Mr. Shelby proposed pointing at the potatoes, after your grandmother nodded he produced a knife from his pocket, making you gasp. “Everything alright Miss Y/LN?”

“If you excuse me, I’ll come back in a minute.” She raised her eyebrows at you before she left.

“Listen it’s just the two of us alright? I pay the taxes and give money to church but I won’t pay you for protection.” You should have kept your mouth shut but for some reason, adrenaline made you talkative and you were nervous, afraid for your life, for your grandma.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not here to collect any money.” He raised his hands in defense. “Your grandmother is adorable.”

“What?” You asked perplexed, thinking of a possible way to get out of the house safely.

“You heard me, I’m not here to do any harm to you or her.” He clicked his tongue. “She said you’re a smart woman, you’ve nothing to worry about.”

“Then why are you here?” Confusion was written all over you.

“She offered me tea and cookies… oh! And dinner.”

“You can’t stay!”

“Y/N! Where are your manners? That’s no way to treat such a gentleman.”

You couldn’t help but scoff at her words. Thomas Shelby a gentleman. He narrowed his eyes, and gave you an offended look.

“Set the table, I’ll finish this.” She ordered.

Doing as she asked, you went to collect the plates.

“Not that ones! The fancy set!” She instructed pointing the spoon at you.

Tommy chuckled at your surprised expression, but quickly looked down to continue his task chopping the vegetables.

But he’s a criminal! He’s a gangster! You wanted to say. Yet, she wanted to use the delicate china reserved only for important occasions.

Placing the plates, you took then the silverware from the drawer. Seconds later you heard them laughing over something he had said, your grandmother’s voice praising him for his sense of humor. She had no idea who he was! Or what he had done.

“And what did he say afterwards?” He asked your grandma, you found him leaning against the sink, his body turned to face her.

“He said, I swore I saw you first, it had to be me the one who would make the first move.” Your grandmother stated proudly.

Here she was, seventy something years old telling the number one Birmingham’s criminal her love story with your grandfather.

“I told him, of course honey, you chose me. He always thought it was him, but it was me the one who chose him.”

“How long were you married?” He asked with interest.

“Over fifty years, most of my life. Can you believe that?”

“That’s lovely.” He admitted. The words sounded so wrong in his mouth, he should be cursing or shouting.

“Dinner is ready.” Your grandma announced. “Y/N help our guest.”

You wanted to roll your eyes.

“Food smells amazing.” He complimented.

“Would you like a piece of bread? Tommy?”

“Grandma!”

“What? He says I can call him that.” She defended.

“Please.” He smiled and you groaned internally. “I’m going to wash my hands.”

As soon as he disappeared, your grandma grabbed your arm. “You need to put a smile on that face my darling, can’t you see? An educated gentleman is visiting us, he smells nice, has a sense of humor, is polite and handsome… have you seen his eyes? It’s like a piece of heaven!”

“So what? He’s a-”

“You need to find yourself a decent man, Y/N.”

“He’s not a decent man.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Grandma, he’s an arrogant, selfish and dangerous-”

“May I have this honor?” He asked interrupting your little disagreement, offering his arm to your grandma, he guided her tenderly towards the table. He probably heard everything you said.

“So, Tommy what is that you do?”

“I’ve a business, we sell car parts in different countries.”He wasn’t lying.

“I’ve never used a car!”

“Then I should take you for a ride.”

You felt about to combust, he was charming your grandmother and she believed him!

Grinding your teeth, you placed the food on his plate.

“I really appreciate this.” He gave you a twisted smile.

Your grandmother’s hand came to rest on his arm. “I’m so glad I came across you this afternoon. It’s been lovely to share this meal with you.”

“I’m flattered you think that.”

“You don’t have a wife waiting at home, do you Tommy?” Your grandma asked bluntly and you almost chocked on your food.

“No, Mrs Barwick. I’m not married.”

“How is that possible?” She shook her head. “You deserve a good woman!” Then, looking at you she said; “what was that tale I told you to find a husband?”

“I don’t know grandma, I’m done with my dinner if you excuse m-”

But the look she threw in your direction, made you reconsider leaving the table. Sometimes she didn’t need to use her words. One look was more than enough.

You took a deep breath uncomfortable, and it only grew as you could feel Mr. Shelby’s eyes on you.

“Your grandma mentioned you sell books.” He asked to ease the tension.

“Yes.”

“Oh but show him! About that collection you got.” Your grandma encouraged.

“What is it about? Eh?”

“She’s a great seller.” She praised.

“Oh.” Mr. Shelby’s eyes sparkled. He was having fun. “Really?”

He was the most irritating person you’ve ever met.

“It’s about the Greek mithology.”

“Fascinating.” He nodded. “Why don’t you stop by my office tomorrow? I’d like the entire collection.”

“That’s wonderful!” Your grandma beamed.

“All set then.” He ran his tongue over his lips and then, tilted his head. “You made me remember about my grandmother.”

“What was a she like?” Your grandmother asked, batting her lashes.

He had her eating from his palm deliberately.

Studying the man before your eyes, something changed inside you. How could he be so cold-hearted? He seemed like a total different person in that very moment, his guard was down, posture totally relaxed, he even had a smile on his face.

Catching you off guard, you had to look away from him.

“She was a gypsy princess.” His blue eyes filled with nostalgia. “Thanks to her I learned all about values like respect, loyalty. She showed me how to ride a horse and light a fire.”

“It must’ve been hard for her to be on the road.”

“Actually no, she loved to be free, said how nature provided us for everything we might need.” He explained all while his deep voice was dragging you into something you couldn’t name. “It’s getting late and I don’t want to keep you up. Thank you once again.”

“Thank you for a lovely evening Tommy, would love to have you again for dinner .”

He gave you another look, not so subtle this time.

“I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Not at all, right Y/N?” She pressed her elbow against your arm. “Walk him to the door my dear.”

Offering his hand to her, she whispered into his ear; “She doesn’t trust easily, you’ll need to work harder.”

Tommy tried to disguise his chuckle, after winking at your grandmother he thanked you too.

“I really enjoyed it, hope to see you around?” He arranged the peaky cap on his head and placed his hand on your arm.

“Goodnight Mr. Shelby.” Was all you could think of saying, still confused by everything that happened.

“Goodnight Mr. Shelby?” Your grandmother mimicked your voice. “You’ll need to do better next time, fix your hair, wear your new shoes… a little something! Y/N I placed him in a silver tray for you and you only said two words to him. Sweetheart you need to do something to catch his attention.”

Opening your mouth to protest, but she continued rambling. “But be discreet, you must stand out from the other women, don’t throw yourself at him, leave him wanting more,” her eyes sparkled in excitement. “A hand on his shoulder, hold his gaze… or pretend to brush something from his coat and then look at his lips.”

“Grandma, stop.” You blushed.

“Goodness, I can’t do anything else for you! He was right here!” She took the plates to the kitchen. “A smile might help, you need to ask him about his day, fix his handkerchief…”

“He was only here because you didn’t give him another option.” A sigh escaped your lips.

“My sweet girl, you’ve everything he needs,” she cupped your chin gently. “But you’re too shy! He kept staring at you…”

“I think your imagination is wild.”

“Y/NY/LN,” you stopped midway as she called your full name. Oh oh. “I like him to be my grandson-in-law… so you gotta do something soon.”

And knowing her the way you did, you realized there was no way back now. Once an idea got into her head, she wouldn’t let that slip away.

“I’ve been praying for this moment for so long!” You heard her say from across the room and then she mumbled something about that blue dress that suited you so well.

As you were about to clean the kitchen you heard a knock on the door. Opening, you were surprised to find the most terrifying man on your doorstep once more.

Your heart rate went up immediately, he was standing with his hands crossed in front of his body, head hanging low, you could only see his lips under the peaky cap.

“I’ll be waiting for you Miss Y/LN, tomorrow ten o’clock, I’ll make sure to send someone to help you with the books.”

“That won’t be necessary, I can carry them by myself.” You insisted, still unsure about his intention.

“Fairly well, as you wish.”

As he turned around to leave, something made you stop him.

“I want to thank you for helping my grandmother.” Never, in a million years you imagined you’d be grateful for something he did.

Lifting his jaw to stare at you with those piercing blue eyes that could set anyone into stone, he gave you a smile.

“I just did the right thing.” He cleared his throat. “You’ve nothing to be afraid of by the way, don’t believe everything you hear.”

“I just learned that, you can be considerate and charming sometimes.”

“Then consider yourself lucky,” he winked at you, “that doesn’t happen too often.”

Looking past your shoulder, Tommy noticed your grandmother’s head poking, moving her hands excitedly towards you.

****

Master list

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @garrison-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @zablife @elk96 @heidimoreton @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @lau219 @red-riding-wood

#That’s what Cill said #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby fan fic #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction

521 notes · View notes

evilkennedy · 1 year

Text

you're as beautiful as the day i lost you

leon kennedy x reader

warnings: none! this is a lot shorter than I would've liked it to be but I hope y'all enjoy anyway

word count: 1k

summary: you died in raccoon city, or at least that is what leon thought. re4 leon. gender neutral reader, mostly in leon's pov, childhood best friends

Leon felt like he was seeing a ghost, he’d stopped everything he’d been doing, which was certainly a risk in this village but he couldn’t bring himself to care– Not when you were standing in front of him, flashbacks of that night in Raccoon City attacked his senses, the smell of blood permeated his nose, flashes of light and fire overwhelmed his vision, the sight of your eyes being the only thing that was enough to soothe him; the same eyes that visited him both during his nightmares and his dreams. His eyebrows were furrowed in confusion and it appeared that you were just as stunned as he was, not expecting to see him after six years… Six years that you’d been presumed dead by him. His blue eyes never leave your face, swimming with an unreadable emotion as he collected himself, you must have been doing the same as you lowered your gun before holstering it and taking a few tentative steps toward him.

He couldn’t bring himself to move yet, only mirroring you as he lowered his gun, holstering it as well. The two of you had taken out the Ganados together as though it had been muscle memory despite the years that passed, neither of you having the time to react to the other’s presence until now. You were the first to speak, he watched as you opened and closed your mouth a few times, trembling as you stepped closer once more, tears pooling in your beautiful eyes. He ached to pull you close, to wipe those tears away, but he stood, statuesque as he waited, your voice meeting his ears for the first time in way too long and suddenly he wondered if this was another dream or some cruel side effect of whatever was happening within his body at the moment, another vision or a mirage that tempted him into danger or into the sea like a siren would lure a sailor to their death.

“It’s been so long, I– Leon, I’m so sorry.” Once he actually began to comprehend what you were saying, your words began spilling out, jumbling together as you stuttered over them in an attempt to explain yourself, Leon didn’t understand how you could be here, how you weren’t six feet under somewhere within the wreckage of what remained of Raccoon City but as his eyes watched your lips move and your chest rise and fall rapidly, he knew this couldn’t have been a dream.

“They– I had to stay dead, I would’ve come to find you, believe me, but they– they told me that you had to think I was dead or else they’d kill you and I couldn’t have that on my conscience. I tried these past six years to find a way to let you know, but they watched me, they didn’t care that we knew each other before or that you were the only person I had–” He was listening, clinging onto every word and he knew that you meant what you were telling him. He was angry, but he could never place that anger on you, not when you were standing here, looking so vulnerable as you poured your heart out to him, tears falling down your cheeks against your will.

He cut you off as he finally moved from the spot where he'd been standing frozen, closing the gap between the two of you easily as his eyes scanned your face, searching for any injuries. He noted the new scars and the way you’d aged slightly, but one thing he was sure of is that you were still you. The same you that used to call him “Lee” and came to his police academy graduation when his parents couldn’t, the same you that had always said it would be the two of you against the rest of the world, and especially the same you that he’d managed to fall in love with. He placed a shaking hand against your cheek and you gasped in response, closing your eyes against the touch. You’d expected him to be angry, not that it had been your choice to leave him in the first place, but you thought it would be easier to deal with than sadness or disappointment, whatever this was, it was much better. Still, you felt as though you didn’t deserve his gentle touch as he wiped a few of your tears away, looking at you for a moment in an attempt to collect his thoughts before speaking.

“You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.” Leon wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting to come out of his mouth, but as you relaxed into his palm, eyebrows furrowing as you kept your eyes closed, lip quivering as a few more tears fell from your lashes, he knew that it was exactly what he needed to say.

After another moment of hesitation, scared of everything that had been left unsaid, Leon pulled you into an embrace, needing to feel you breathing against him. He rested his nose at the crown of your head, breathing in a scent that he’d previously forgotten, overwhelmed with the need to cry himself now. He refused to do so, instead only pulling you tighter to himself as he whispered your name over and over like a mantra– a prayer. He wasn’t a religious man by any means but he thanked whatever might have been out there that brought you back to him. He had every intention never to let you go again.

He swayed the two of you gently as he rested the back of his hand at the nape of your neck, grabbing at the hair that rested there, feeling grounded as his senses were overwhelmed by you completely. He knew that there was a long way to go, there was a mission to be completed and Ashley still needed to be brought home alive, but with you by his side, he knew that everything would be okay. And he’d do everything in his power to ensure it stayed that way.

a/n: hi!! i hope you enjoyed :) feel free to leave comments to let me know what you think and my requests are open for more leon x reader prompts <3

#leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #resident evil #re4r leon #re4r #resident evil 4 remake #resident evil 4 #resident evil leon

2K notes · View notes

fatuismooches · 6 months

Text

a lesson in the heart.

an alternate ending to lesson 10, in which you never “d̷͉̅͆į̷̩̀͋e̷̛̲͂d̷̢͒͊?” and never reincarnated.

Today, you were getting married to Kabukimono! It was bound to be such a joyous and blessed day! Yes, indeed the puppet had proposed to you (with the help of Niwa and Katsuragi) many months ago out of nowhere. You had no clue that he was planning such a grand thing, and to think it went unnoticed by you! You actually had to applaud him for managing to keep a secret for so long.

Kabukimono had taken great care to plan the surprise. Food that he had made all by himself without your knowledge (no wonder he had so many small cuts on his fingers!) Scoping out many beautiful places near Tatarasuna, mulling over which one was the prettiest and best for the proposal. Fretting to Niwa and the others about what he should say and them reassuring him every five minutes that everything was going to be fine. To think that your Kabukimono had matured so much was quite endearing.

When he woke you up one morning, lavishing your body in kisses, you sleepily thought nothing of it. Of course, waking each other up with soft kisses was a routine for both of you. But you knew something was up when Kabukimono refused to let you get out of bed, begging for you to relax and “let him take care of you.” You were a bit confused at this turn of events, as today was not your birthday or anniversary, or anything special that you could think of… were you forgetting something? Nevertheless, you were greatly pleased by Kabukimono’s improved skills in the kitchen. The breakfast he made was quite delicious.

He then carefully bathed your body, lovingly running his hands over you, a wide grin on his face. Okay, now you knew something was up because Kabukimono was never one who could contain his excitement easily. He kind of gave it away, but you still didn’t know what he was thinking of.

“Alright love, when are you gonna tell me what’s got you so pleased this morning?” The puppet jumped at your question. He didn’t realize he was showing his emotions so clearly. Oops. But you still had no clue about his surprise! He would just go along with you right now.

“You’ll see, [Name],” he hummed, “It’s very important and special.” You raised an eyebrow at this. His vague words only served to rile your curiosity even more. After, he ushered you to your closet and told you to get ready before he left swiftly. Huh. Today really seemed like it would be quite interesting. You decided to dress up a bit more than usual, nothing too plain, nothing too fancy either.

It was only more surprising when Kabukimono was waiting for you at the door, a basket of food and a blanket in his hands. You wondered, where did he get all this food fr- Ah, Niwa’s figure quickly scurrying away was your answer. So he was in on whatever this was too…

Kabukimono’s breath was taken away from how lovely you looked right now. His (hopefully) soon-to-be spouse. The thing about Kabukimono was that he didn’t even need to speak for you to feel adored. His wide and in-awed eyes told everything you needed to know as you scratched your head shyly. The eccentric then grabbed your hand and led you to the spot he had chosen, and you two made conversation on the way. Laughs and chatter filled the air.

The place he had chosen was breathtaking. You didn’t know how he had managed to find somewhere so pretty, but you loved it. And the food was incredibly tasty, all made by your lover himself. He blushed as you couldn’t stop the praises from leaving your mouth. You two spent hours like that, the day dwindling away until it was time to go back. But towards the end, Kabukimono seemed nervous about something, picking at his clothes and biting his lip nervously, his legs seemingly frozen in place.

“Love? What’s wrong?” Kabukimono’s eyes flickered toward yours and then back to the ground.

“[Name], I… I have something to tell you.” A wave of uneasiness overcame you. Was he okay? Was he hurt? Did anything bad happen?

“I’m listening,” you offered your full attention. He balled his fists and then released them, taking in a deep breath, resolution then flowing into his body.

“[Name], you… changed my life forever. When I was abandoned, I believed that I was worthless and that I was not useful to anyone. I thought I would be scorned and forced to be by myself forever. But you… you changed my fate. You taught me so many things no one else could, and most importantly, I learned… love. I never thought I could love or be loved. But you love me so unconditionally, and I can’t help but love you even more. You’re the one who taught me these emotions, these feelings. I love you, [Name],” Kabukimono devotedly stated. You were speechless. He then fumbled for something in his pocket but you couldn’t catch a glimpse of what it was.

“Every day we’ve been together is a day I’ve felt so happy, and…” Kabukimono gulped, building up his courage, “And I would like to ask… would you let me make all of your days happy too?” Kabukimono went down on one knee and opened the ring box, revealing a ring. The band was a very simple one, one like most of the couples around here wore. It was all he could afford, after all, they were in the simple village of Tatarasuna. But that didn’t matter to either of you. It was still so beautiful, you thought as you stared at it unmoving.

Kabukimono had initially taken your shocked silence as a no and began to worry and backtrack his words, before you snapped out of your daze and tackled him, sending both of your bodies to the ground. Before your fiancé could speak again, you pressed your lips onto his which he muffingly spoke against, and then realizing what was happening, kissed back.

“Oh, of course Kabukimono! Of course I’ll marry you!” You vehemently declared, peppering his face in kisses. Kabukimono had to bite his lip to stop himself from smiling too much, for his mouth already hurt from the excessive smiling and laughter. When he slipped the ring onto your finger, you never felt happier.

It seemed like the entire village knew of the plan except you because when you returned, everyone was there waiting and then cheered at the sight of the engagement rings on your and Kabukimono’s fingers. It was embarrassing… but very sweet.

Both of you were home, and nothing could change that.

—

All the villagers had joined together to help with the wedding preparations. Weddings were a sacred event for them, especially the union between their beloved puppet and you! It was a very busy time and it took lots of effort, but eventually, everything was prepared. The venue, which was of course the humble village, was decked out in lovely decorations. Tons of delicious food were prepared, and many outfits were created for the ceremony. The day of the wedding itself was beautiful, and the wind gently caressed you and Kabukimono as you two stood at the altar, reciting your vows to each other and swearing to be intertwined with each other for eternity.

As he slipped the wedding ring onto your finger, you realized your ring had the letter “K” engraved onto it for Kabukimono. Your soon-to-be husband’s ring had your initial carved into it as well. It was so… romantic, and suddenly all the emotions hit you at once as you began crying. Kabukimono understandably started panicking as well and began a barrage of questions, begging you to tell him what was wrong, to which you could only reply with the fact that you loved him so much. This only served to make your newly wedded husband start crying himself, and both of you cried in front of the whole audience. The whole village could not help but laugh at the sight and comfort the new sobbing couple. What a display of true love.

The rest of the night was one of pure joy. Dancing, partying, eating, drinking, typical wedding stuff. You made sure Kabukimono took part in everything, after all, this was a once-in-a-lifetime event! The fun still went on until late at night, but you two had slipped out of there for a bit for some alone time, as Kabukimono had one last gift for you. He was finally ready to perform the sword dance for you after the wedding. It was nothing short of ethereal. He was elegant, the moves flowing so smoothly it was hard to describe. Long hair swaying with every moment, complete calmness on his face. Not making a single mistake as you face in awe.

“Beautiful,” you murmured. “That was amazing, Kabukimono,” you could not put how you truly felt into words, but you hoped your feeling reached him anyway. Your husband smiled before he came and sat next to you, wrapping his arm around you.

“Not more than you,” he giggled before pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. You laughed with him.

“Am I going to be showered with such compliments every day now?”

“Niwa says it’s critical for spouses to verbally communicate for a good and long relationship. I’m just communicating how much I love you,” Kabukimono stated simply, only making you chuckle more. You silently thanked Niwa before you locked lips with your husband.

“Promise to never leave me, Kabukimono?”

“I’ll never leave you, [Name]! I’ll be by your side forever.” You grinned and buried your head in his chest, wedding rings glinting in the moonlight. Kabukimono smiled even wider, his heart at peace.

“Then we’ll have to start planning our honeymoon, hmm?”

“Of course. We’ll spend the rest of our lives together, [Name].”

… Because in a dream, anything is possible.

—

“What do you mean he won’t wake up?” A worried, high-pitched voice echoed throughout the room.

“It means exactly that Paimon. Wanderer won’t wake up,” Nahida’s voice replied solemnly. The Traveler and Paimon stood next to the young God with confused expressions. “It seems that he is stuck in a dream.”

“Stuck in a dream? But… can’t you just enter his dream with your powers like we did last time? And then we could wake him up?

“I’ve already tried that, multiple times in fact. But, no matter how much I try… every part of his existence is rejecting me from entering with all the strength he has. And if I try to force myself in with greater power, I don’t know what the consequences could be…”

“Is that even possible? That doesn’t sound real to Paimon!”

“Dreams are powerful and mysterious things. Even I cannot understand them to the fullest extent.”

“But Paimon doesn’t understand… how did this happen in the first place? Why would he wanna be in a dream anyway?

“His past. Or rather, a particular person from his past.”

“Paimon thought he moved on from his past though?”

“He did for the most part, but… it seems that losing his first and last love at such a tender point in his life had far more of an impact than I initially thought. Wanderer only opened up to me about [Name] a few times…” The Archon trailed off, clearly troubled by her thoughts.

“[Name]... Paimon remembers them from when we looked at Wanderer’s memories together!” The Traveler nodded in agreement. “They did seem really important to him, but Paimon didn’t think he’d go to this length for [Name].”

“He’s already tried to end himself by deleting his existence from the world, but… I never could have expected this. I didn’t know he’d have such a hard time coping with the fact that [Name] will remain dead for all of eternity… This is my fault. I should have been more observant,” Nahida sighed as she placed a tiny hand on her forehead. “I’m going to continue trying… but I don’t think it’ll be easy. After all, I’ve never encountered a situation like this.”

“What do you think, Nahida? Do you think he’ll snap out of it?”

“Unfortunately, as much as I wish he would… I think I already know what his choice is, Paimon.”

The human heart. It will never be truly understood, not even by the best of scholars. It is unpredictable, and there’s no telling what it could drive one to do or feel. Even the ones who vehemently deny the presence of a heart cannot help but succumb to their heart’s desires from time to time. The puppet is no different.

Could this be considered a happy ending?

That’s for you to decide.

lesson 1. lesson 2. lesson 3. lesson 4. lesson 5. lesson 6. lesson 7. lesson 8. lesson 9. lesson 10. bonus lesson.

580 notes · View notes

samsno1 · 3 months

Text

Honesty

Sam Winchester x Reader

lmao, i'm sorry. this is kind of an au where instead of sam getting the trials...you do! haha......might make a second part to this but i'll see how it'll do. also, in this there isn't the stupid "sam doesn't look for dean in purgatory" because the writers were fucked up when they wrote that, respectfully (or not)

Summary: You finally have a chance to close the Gates of Hell, forever, but everything comes with a cost, the question is, are you willing to pay for it?

Warnings: ANGST, love confessions, sad sammy, kisses, reader sees bobby as a father figure, reader is shorter than Sam, NOT PROOF-READ, english is not my first language

WC: 3.7k

You can learn how to change Y/N for your actual name here

enjoy!

As you lie there, soaked in hellhound's blood, panting after a fight against the creature, the glasses you wore to be able to see it dirty and obstructing your view, Sam and Dean stare at you, frozen and horrified.

You knew they would try and talk you out of doing the trials, especially after Dean's words to both you and Sam before he went on to almost get killed by the hellhound. Of course you two had followed him, even if Dean explicitly said not to, and you ended up under the dog, his disgusting breath fanning on your face as he barked above you, trying to rip your neck off. You knifed it and it quite literally exploded over you, bathing you in his gooey substance.

Now, all of you were in a room, Dean pacing back and forth while Sam just stood with his head down. You had your arms crossed, your eyes accompanied Dean's movements. He was restless, probably angry and desperately trying to find a way to counter this.

“We can find another hellhound,” He argues “I kill it then it's all solved”

“Dean, Crowley will be even more on our asses over this, he will not let his dogs out of the leash” You say, calmly, trying to counter Dean's protectiveness in the lightest way possible. “I can do them”

After you said that Dean stopped pacing around and both him and Sam looked up at you, eyebrows furrowed, almost as if you had just admitted to an unforgivable crime. The crime in the case was wanting to protect the brothers from these crazy trials. You knew how death followed them around like a plague and you couldn't handle losing them.

“No, Y/N, you're not doing these trials” Sam speaks up, a tinge of anger in his tone. Anger, worry. He looked at you, his hair casting a shadow over his face because of the poor lightning in the environment. “You could die”

“Well, too bad Sam” You said and the boys shared that look, a silent conversation between both of them, something that pissed you off in these moments because you had the right to know what they were plotting. “Look, I know you two feel like you have some responsibility over me, this…instinct to protect me ever since Bobby…” You trailed off, the memory of the man you considered to be your father still too heavy on you. Sam frowned and Dean changed his position, on edge. You cleared your throat, the sudden lump bothering you. “But I can protect myself, I can fight my own battles and, honestly? If we do close the gates of hell for good, which battles will be there to fight?” You say with a faint smile.

You look between both of them. They seemed deep in thought. Too deep and that worried you. You slowly walked towards Sam and when he took notice he stiffened up, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed harshly, his eyes taking in your rather dirty appearance. But still beautiful, he mentally stated.

Sam always thought you were the most incredible woman he ever met, invincible even, nothing could ever put you down and you could make everything work your way with your amazing mind and skills. And, obviously, your killer looks always managed to stun him every time, everywhere.

He was used to seeing you in any type of clothing, from suits and dresses to sweats and shirts with corny sayings written in the front, which you argued were comfortable. And you always looked absolutely gorgeous wearing anything. Sam used to think he just admired you, the looks from afar were just friendly appreciation, his yearn to be around you was just a protective instinct, the goosebumps on his skin when you’d touch him were just a natural reaction…

Until it wasn’t just. It was. And that was horrifying.

And it got worse when both you and him spent the last year alone looking for Dean and Cas. Spending so much time beside you made Sam realize what he truly felt towards you and he was scared. Scared to say anything and scared to lose you. So, when you killed that hellhound, his heart fell to his stomach because he knew you would want to do the trials.

And when you stretched your hand to him, looking directly in his eyes, that determined gaze of yours slicing through his soul, he knew you would do anything to go along with this.

“Sam, give me the spell” You said firmly, not a request, a demand. He swallowed again, still speechless, still frozen, his fist tightening around the small paper which contained the words in enochian you were supposed to recite for the trials to start. You emphasize your demand by widening your eyes angrily and doing ‘come here’ motions with your stretched hand. “Sam”

“Y/N-”

“Dean.” You interrupt, anger seeping into your tone, making Dean shut his mouth into a thin line and a huff of air come out of his nose, just like a child would do when it was refused candy before dinner. He thought he’d seen you like this before, determined, practically unstoppable but boy was he wrong. You were more than insistent and that rang an alarm in Dean’s head. You knew that the one responsible for the trials could die and you were willingly going with it.

“Dean, can you give us a moment” Sam speaks up again and you quirk an eyebrow at him, looking between him and his brother. Sam looks at Dean, his pleading eyes and subtle nod giving enough information for Dean to get the message across. If there is one thing that can make you understand is honesty.

Dean slowly walks out of the room, giving you one last look that said clearly that you needed to listen with an open heart and mind to anything Sam would say. When he closed the door behind him, Sam’s eyes were already on you, trained on your features and you shifted your weight on your feet, his stare intimidating.

“So?” You said, trying to keep your ground. Sam sighed and lowered his head, considering all his options in the situation, he could tell you everything and be either rejected or accepted, he could lie to you, give you the wrong spell and work his way out like he always did and still keep you safe. Honesty. The word echoed in his mind like a chant.

He pushed himself off the table he was leaning on, crossing with you and going towards the bed to sit down. Your whole body accompanied his movements, his long strides making the distance between the table and the bed shorter than it actually was.

Once sat he looked at you and then at the spot beside him on the bed, silently asking you to sit with him and you caved, obliging to him. Your feet were light on the floor, quiet, accustomed to being silent while being a hunter, as you walked to the bed. The hardness of the cushion was not too much of a bother but still kept you grounded. Don’t let your guard down.

After making yourself as comfortable as possible, sitting criss-crossed, you turned towards Sam who was with both his feet on the floor, staring at his hands drying his sweat on his jeans. You waited for him to travel inside his own mind, finding the words, the phrases, the honesty.

Honesty. Honesty. Honesty.

You swam in your own thoughts, especially those in which Sam was included. And those were the few thousands of reasons you wanted to be the one doing the trials, not him, not Dean. In your time alone, Sam had opened up to you about his want to live a normal life, away from apocalypses, monsters, gods…White picket fence, the whole nine. Dean had wanted that too, hell maybe he wouldn’t let go completely of the hunting but at least he wouldn’t have to deal with demons on his ass, never ever again. You didn’t see yourself getting out.

You grew up in this, much like the boys, but to you was different. You liked it. The adrenaline was like a drug pumping through your veins everytime you killed an abomination and, honestly, family wasn’t your strongest trait. All those whom you considered family were cremated – just because…we don’t usually bury hunters, so you can’t say they are six-feet under. Your love life was most definitely inexistent, you didn’t have time for falling in love with anyone.

Until. You did.

Until you fell. And hard. Face first in a bag of nails because you knew it would be trouble falling in love with Sam Winchester. You were both unlucky when it came to that feeling, always losing, always sacrificing, always in a battle. But how could you not? He was a gentleman in full, kind, sweet, caring and at the same time deadly – no pun intended. He would protect those he cared for with his life, his sense of protection his greatest quality. He was so selfless sometimes it made you mad. You had told him once ‘Be selfish, just this one time!’ and even so he couldn’t. It wasn’t his nature.

Sam wanted out of this and you wouldn’t let him abandon that dream because of you. You weren’t worth his life, you told him once after following a lead on how to open the doors to Purgatory and pull Cas and Dean out that almost got both of you killed. You were crying as you drove him to the hospital, the blood on your hands staining the steering wheel.

He was pale, his hand weekly pressing over the wound on his stomach, his breathing shallow. When you told him that, he trained his tired eyes on your face and in a rough and tired voice told you to shut up. Shut it, jerk. And fainted.

At the hospital you stayed hours by his bed every day. The doctors had told you he would be okay, that thankfully no vital organs were damaged and when he woke up you hugged him tightly, your arms wrapping around his neck desperately trying to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere. His hands soothed you, rubbing your back up and down. You won’t get rid of me that easily, he had said and you laughed.

Ever since then you swore to yourself that you would guarantee that Sam wouldn’t put himself in danger for you anymore and you were not breaking that promise.

“Do you remember the night we met?” Sam spoke and you turned your eyes to his face, his hair shining against the yellow light and worry lines between his eyebrows.

“John had left you at Bobby’s and when I came back from school you scared the shit out of me. I had my gun in hand and everything until Bobby popped up, desperately trying to explain” You said, smiling at the memory. You were all so young back then, Sam was still shorter than you – which didn’t last long – and you had lost your parents a few months back.

“Ever since that night I knew you would be…something in the long run” You gave him a puzzled look and he laughed lightly at your face, his dimples appearing on his cheeks. “I knew you would turn out to be strong, brave and I knew you would end up being one of the most important people to me”

You smiled stupidly at that, your face heating up. You didn’t know what to say to him, your eyes drifting to your fingers over your lap because you couldn't keep his strong gaze. Sam sighed and considered his options, he could either hide his feelings for longer or be honest. Honesty, honesty. The word echoed through his mind like a mantra.

Sam reached his hand to wrap over one of yours, making your eyes shift from your hands to his face again. Physical touch wasn't uncommon between the both of you. Sleeping in the same bed when motels were full, sleeping on each other's shoulders, – more you than Sam given the height difference – hugs, cheek kisses, cuddling while watching movies. But something about this hand hold felt more intimate, like a wave of emotions were being poured over you like cold water. Sam squeezed your hand.

“I can't lose you” Sam said, his voice low because he knew that if he spoke any louder he could break.

“Sam–”

“Y/N. Please.” He begs, even if he doesn't know what he's begging for. Please, let me talk. Please, don't do the trials. Please, love me like I love you. “I can't lose you”

He repeats and you feel like you just got punched in the guts or like a knife went through your chest. He sounded so raw. Those four words meaning more than any poetry you've ever laid eyes upon. You squeeze his hand to ground yourself.

“Can't or won't?” You ask, voice weak.

“Both” He answers. “Both because I won't let you do this and can't because if I lose you I won't know how to keep going.”

You shake your head no, closing your eyes for a brief moment, your memories together flooding in again. His smile tattooed in your brain, his laugh playing over and over like a broken vinyl. You needed to do this.

“If I do this then that means you can finally have a life, a wife, kids…I can't let you lose this.” You say, tears welling up in your eyes. “And I need to do this for you, for Dean, for Charlie…Losing me is just a consequence for the greater good”

Now it's Sam who shakes his head, low breathy no's coming out of his mouth. He looks up at you, eyes watery and those stupid puppy dog eyes staring right into your soul, crushing your heart to pieces.

“You don't get it” He says “When I look into the future I can't imagine–” He takes a breath, considering whether to tell you or not. Fuck it. “I can't imagine it without you. The house, the kids running around, the dog…they're ours.” He stops for a moment, waiting to see if you caught what he meant but you just looked at him, wide beautiful eyes full of confusion.

“Sam what are you–”

“And you're the wife. My wife.” He says and he can see the realization come into your face, slowly. The way your jaw drops slightly, your shoulders tense and your hand squeezes his even harder. Sam swallows but now he can't back away. “So I can't let you do this because if you do it and die I won't be able to keep going because I love you, Y/N. I love you and even if you don't reciprocate I won't stop loving you. You're the first thing I think when I wake up and the last thing I think about once I fall asleep.” He keeps going, almost out of breath once he finishes, avoiding your eyes, avoiding rejection. “So, please, don't”

Don't do this, don't reject me, don't run.

“Sam, look at me” You say, one hand slowly grasping his cheek, your thumb drying a tear that he didn't know had fallen. Once he looked at you he saw you smiling. Smiling with teary eyes. “I love you, too”

You practically whispered and a feeling rushed into Sam's body. Like someone had shot him up with adrenaline and suddenly he was aware of everything around him, your warm hand on his cheek, your hand under his, the white noise of the animals outside. And his own heartbeat.

He closed the distance between the both of you, his lips finally touching yours in desperation. Pure and raw desperation. His hand went up your arm to your neck, gently pulling you more into him and yours slipped to tangle into his hair, running the soft locks through your fingers.

The kiss felt electric and it burned. Burned you from the inside out with the wave of a thousand emotions. Your head went back to those moments with Sam. Your mind was just completely him.

And it was the same for the Winchester.

He already had thoughts consisting mostly of you but now he felt in heaven, like in finally connected with whom he mostly desired, both physically and emotionally. His other hand slipped around your waist to pull yourself over him as he laid down on the bed.

You followed and slightly smiled into the kiss. Until you grounded yourself. Sam wouldn't let you do the trials, not now that you had confessed, not now that he knew you loved him too. So you had to take matters into your own hands.

As Sam laid you over him, you straddled his hips, the kiss continuing into an unexplained hunger and lust for each other. You sensually dragged your hand down his chest, earning a soft gasp out of him, both his hands tangling in your hair, messing up your curls.

Your hand that slid down his body discreetly went into his pocket, feeling for the paper with the spell written on it. You mentally apologized over and over to Sam, your mouth opening to let his tongue in to explore it, butterflies flying around in your stomach. He was gentle, caring but yet hungry and you could feel it.

I'm sorry.

You pulled away breathless, the paper clutched in your hand and Sam looked at you through hooded eyes, his chest heaving with his heavy breaths and a confused frown on his face.

“I'm sorry Sammy” You said as you got off the bed and started to quickly pronounce the words in enochian, your hands trembling around the paper. Sam widened his eyes once he realized what you'd done, patting his pocket in reflex, knowing you had taken it out of there, and stubbled off the bed.

“Y/N, no, please!” He yelled but it was too late. Once you said the last word an almost unbearable pain cursed through your whole body, knocking you to your knees, a loud groan of pain leaving your throat.

Sam kneeled beside you with a hand on your back, mumbling curses and apologies to you but you couldn't hear him, the pain so strong it made your ears ring. You felt a burn, like you had injected lava into your veins, opening your eyes to see your arms shining. Everything was spinning and the only thing guaranteeing you that you were still alive was Sam's warm touch over your back.

After seconds of excruciating pain you felt it going down and saw your arms returning to their normal tone. You collapsed into Sam's arms and he made sure to hold you tightly, still mumbling apologies with his eyes glossy with tears.

“Why did you do this?” He repeated, over and over. He didn't know if he wanted to kill you or hug you so he decided for the latter. He hugged your frame, pressing your head against his chest with a trembling hand and giving light kisses over it.

His other hand pressed your back against him, making your whole body stay in contact with his. His knees hurt on the hard ground but nothing compared to the pain he felt in his heart. He felt helpless.

You opened your eyes to look up at him, a faint smile on your face. You lifted a hand up to his cheek and took a very good look at the handsome man you loved. He was crying but he always looked beautiful, no matter how.

At your touch he closed his eyes, guilt spreading through his body. He touched his forehead to yours, making you close your eyes until you spoke up.

“I did this because I love you” You said and he opened his mouth to protest. You gave him a look, saying you weren’t done. “I love you too much to see you die and I know you can keep going if I die, you are one of the strongest men I know. You’re smart, you’re brave and you went through so much that I can’t let you give it up because of me. And you know I would never, ever, let you take responsibility over this and I don’t want you to blame yourself, this was my choice”

“I can’t– I’m sorry, Y/N, I’m so sorry I got you into this, I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you–” You stopped him with a kiss and he sighed sadly, his hands wrapping around you tighter as if you would disappear at any second. You felt horrible but at the same time relieved. Relieved that if anything happened, Sam would live.

“Don’t say that” You whisper against his lips. “Don’t apologize for something that isn’t your fault. This is on me.” You say as you pull slowly away to look into his eyes, the mix of colors hypnotizing you. You felt like you could see every ounce of his soul through those eyes and it was filled with sadness.

Sam was angry, not at you, at himself. The moment he saw the hellhound die above you, bathing you in its blood he knew it was over, that you wouldn’t back away but still he blamed himself. If I were quicker. If I were smarter. The words ran around in his brain. When he looked at you he saw yet another one of those he loved dead. Another corpse that hung over his shoulder.

“We can do this, I can do this. I’m strong enough” You said. Sam knew you were strong but this was beyond you. This was God and Demons and Heaven and Hell. This was biblical and nothing like the things you faced before. He was scared.

“I know you are but what if I’m not?” He asks and you wait for him to continue. “What if I’m not strong enough to let you go if it comes to it?”

“You’ll have to be. If not for yourself, for me. Keep going for me” You reply with a soft look and a slight smile that made Sam choke on a sob and smash his lips against yours.

This kiss was filled with different emotions. Sadness, grief and guilt were poured into it but yet so much love. So, so much.

You didn’t get a verbal answer from Sam but you got plenty of information from the kiss. I’ll try, for you.

And that was enough.

A/N: Notes and reblogs encourage me to keep writing, feedback makes those writings better. Thank you for reading, Xoxo.

#supernatural #writers on tumblr #sam winchester #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural imagine #supernatural angst #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester fanfic #sam winchester x female reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam x reader #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester angst #jared padalecki x reader #jared padalecki

376 notes · View notes

vermithorn · 1 year

Text

* DISSOLVE

pairing: cregan stark x targaryen!reader

summary: an unexpected visitor arrives at winterfell, cregan is surprised to say the least.

contains: 18+, fingering, p in v, afab!reader, she/her pronouns, biting(?) marking(?), masturbation, asks about consent all the way becasue thats cregan ok.

author's note: i was horny in class, you cant relate to my struggle as i wrote this. my comeback and its cregan because i dream about this man and i need him carnally... also pls forgive any mistakes yall know my first language its spanish so don't be mean and leave feedback if you liked it !! pls reblog !!! !!!!!!! also totally inspired by mi amor @fairysluna fic about targ!reader x cregan yall pls read it its GOD TIER. ok bye now pls enjoy !

Winterfell was.. nice.

Your dragon, The Bronze Fury, wasn't fond of the snowy wasteland you commanded him to fly on. He grumbled as he landed near the northern capital, clouds of smoke coming out of his nostrils as he let you dismount him carefully, as much as he hated the north, he couldn't be mad at his rider.

You petted Vemithor’s snout, his red eyes intently watching you and allowing it, because after all, you were his little human. “Obey, stay here.” Vermithor roared, complaining in his own way, you just laughed and waved him off as you made your way to the castle.

“Warden Stark, this is a matter of great urgency…”

Cregan stopped himself from rolling his eyes at the request of the Umber patriarch, a much older man who was filled with jealousy because Cregan was the Warden of the North and he wasn't, always mentioning it to the great council that was held once a month in the northern capital.

“My lord,” Cregan sighed, “I do not have time for this right now, you had your time for requesting when we were six hours in the council meeting earlier today.”

Lord Umber was about to speak again, smoke coming out his ears but was interrupted by the door of the Great Hall opening, a servant of the castle stepping in and announcing loudly;

“Princess Y/N Targaryen,” Cregan’s head snapped towards the doors, taking in the sight of you entering the Great Hall.

You were bundled up in heavy clothing to protect against the cold weather, wearing a thick fur-lined cloak over a long (but tight?) black dress with red accents, with the three-headed dragon sigil embroidered on your chest.

“Lord Umber, return to this conversation later,” Lord Umber's grumbles could be heard as he walked out quickly after bowing to you, leaving the two of you alone in the Great Hall.

As you walked towards Cregan, he could feel a blush starting on his cheeks.

“My lady.”

Cregan noticed a glint of amusement in your eyes as you spoke, it was almost a purr.

“Lord Cregan,” You raised an eyebrow, smirking, “I am not your lady, I am your princess.”

Cregan’s face turned redder, looking down for a second as if ashamed. “You are right, my princess. I have never before seen the princess of the realm and I was momentarily taken aback, forgetting your station,” He gulped, “I ask for your forgiveness, your highness.”

You chuckled, delighted. “Do not worry, my lord, we all make mistakes.”

He looked at you in awe, he never had seen a woman as beautiful as you, especially in this land of wolves. He felt like he was being pulled towards you as if he was a moth and you were the flame, taking steps towards you.

“Nice meeting you, Warden Stark.” You could tell he was nervous, hiding his shaky hands behind his back, standing straight.

He nodded, almost a bow, “What’s the Princess of Dragonstone doing in Winterfell if I may ask? It is rare to see a noble of the south in this frozen land, even rarer the Crown’s Princess.”

You chuckled softly, and Cregan couldn't feel more attracted to you now as he continued, “Is this an official visit? or did you just wake up with a desire to see my homeland?”

“A little of both,” Cregan raised an eyebrow at you, “I came on dragon back,”

He looks at you with a mix of awe and fear. Dragons have not been seen in the North for a long time, so the mere mention of one is enough to make him worry slightly. “Did you fly all the way here alone, princess? Or is there an entourage of guards, servants, and courtiers that I need to prepare for? I would not presume to let you see one of the great houses of the North without a proper welcoming, even if you are visiting unannounced.”

This made you giggle, and Cregan’s face kept getting warmer with each second passing. “I am alone, my lord.”

Cregan bowed, trying to hide his warm cheeks and of course, showing respect for your station and your valor for traveling alone in the frozen wastes of the North.

He straightened his back and looked into your lilac eyes, breathing softly trying to not get lost in them, “What would you wish to do here, my princess? I could arrange a meal, or a bath to warm up from the freezing weather? Or maybe you would like to talk?”

“A bath would be nice, my lord.” You gave him a wolfish grin, looking him up and down and making him gulp at the sight.

“I will have one prepared for you immediately.” Cregan walked towards the doors, calling a servant to get your bath ready as soon as possible in the guest chambers near his own, he turned around to talk to you but found you were walking around the room, intently watching the tapestries and paintings.

He watched you do this for a few minutes until a servant came back to inform him the bath was ready in the guest chambers, he came out of his trance watching you.

“My princess, the bath is ready for you,” You turned around grinning mischievously, “Is there anything else that I can do for you now? Anything at all?”

Cregan would learn a few seconds later that his words would turn against him.

“Perhaps you could join me?”

A wave of crimson washed over Cregan’s face, and you could see how your words were making sense in his head. What were you trying on him? Was the offer even real or just teasing on your part? He watched you with his jaw slightly dropped trying to think of a proper answer for you, the temptation was certainly great… to see a princess like that, to see you all bare, he could feel himself getting harder at the thought of your naked body, but… what will others think? You came to Winterfell alone, what could happen if others find out he was in your chambers all alone? The temptation was too great to resist it.

“Is this something you truly want, your highness?” Cregan swallowed, taking another step toward you, “Or am I being an object of teasing?”

You grinned widely, taking a step to meet him halfway putting a hand on his wide chest, “My lord, you know how stunning you are?”

Cregan couldn't spit the words out, too occupied focusing on the hand on his chest.

“I am very thankful for your hospitality, my lord,” His gaze fell into your wolfish grin and intense stare, “So I am extending an invitation of my own if you want it.”

Cregan found himself in your chambers, mad at himself for his weak resolve against the Targaryen temptress.

But all those feelings went away the moment you locked the door after entering the room behind him.

The bathtub in the middle of the room was big enough for two people, that was out of the question and Cregan wondered if the servants did this on purpose. You walked towards the bed near the fireplace, taking your fur cloak off and leaving it carefully on the mattress.

“Is this room to your liking, my princess?” Cregan said, watching you subtly.

“It is,” You nodded, slowly untying your dress, “Could you help me, my lord?” You turned around, watching him over your shoulder with a playful smile. “This dress is hard to take off on my own.”

Of fucking course.

Cregan made his way over you, his rough hands carefully untying the complicated part of your dress on your back. You could feel his fingers tracing your shoulder blade, now exposed to the warm air of the room thanks to the fireplace. “I can never take this off without my lady-in-waiting’s help.” You giggled, still watching him over your shoulder.

Cregan shook his head, amused by the fact you were gonna need help to take this off in any case, thankful it was him this time. He waited for you to move first, removing his hands gently.

He took a step backward, “You may undress as you wish, my princess. It would be rude of me to stare while you are getting in and out of the tub.” You turned around to face him, your dress falling off your shoulders as he spoke, “I will keep my eyes lowered.”

Cregan’s gaze fell to the ground, his hands again behind his back, anxiously playing with his thumb.

“My lord.” You purred, “I don’t mind, you can look if you wish.”

He splutters, his gaze still glued down to the floor, shocked by your words but his traitorous eyes wander back to your figure, he gasps when he sees how your dress is no longer on your shoulders, now hanging low on your waist and your chest bare.

“M-my princess… this is not appropriate…” He exhales shakily, his eyes glued to your chest not able to look away now.

You roll your eyes, chuckling softly, “I don’t mind, my lord, I am not ashamed of my body.”

Cregan’s jaw drops, your words sending shivers to his spine, and his uniform pants getting tighter. You have the confidence of a queen and beauty to match it.

“Then allow me,” He takes a look up and down at your form as you continue to remove your garments.

“Like what you see, pup?”

Your words make Cregan freeze on his spot near the bathtub, his eyes roaming crazily over your body, now fully bare to him. You walk towards him, stepping slowly on the hot water until it’s reaching your thighs.

“Words cannot describe what I’m feeling, your highness.” He exhales shakily, “I am merely a northern wolf awed by a dragon’s beauty and power.”

You chuckle, sitting down on the tub, the water reaching your breasts, “You flatter me, pup.”

He looks at you stunned, you seem unbothered by the scalding hot water as you sit looking at him expectantly. He has no words to describe what’s going on inside his head, the Crown’s Princess is bathing in front of the Warden of the North as if there were no one else in the world, he's only able to stare at you in awe, his eyes shining with a glint of lust.

He stumbles on his next words, “W-what should I do now, your highness?”

“Join me.”

He only can nod and starts to remove his clothes immediately, showing no humility or shame at being naked in front of the princess, your confident self giving him confidence.

He realizes what he's about to do, “You’re not offended by my nakedness?”

You raise an eyebrow at him, amused, “Why would I be offended? You’re beautiful.”

Men are rarely complimented by their beauty, something Cregan doesn't experience as much, and you can tell this by the way his face lits up and blushes hard, turning away from your amused gaze and feeling slightly bashful.

He takes a deep breath and steps into the bathtub, the water is almost too hot for his liking but he seats behind you without any complaints. He is facing your back and he has to stop himself from reaching out and touching you.

“Shall I wash you, my princess? Or shall I merely enjoy the view?” The moments those words left his mouth his face was plagued by a crimson blush, not believing that he could mutter that out loud.

He heard you chuckle, turning your head to the side but not all the way so he could appreciate your side profile as you spoke, “Whatever you want,”

He scooted closer to you, keeping all his lower body and his not-that-hard (a lie) cock away from your ass. Still half in disbelief, the princess herself telling him to do whatever he wanted? He was an ambitious man, but started on the base of his wants, not wanting to scare you off. He reach out and ran his hands through your white hair, slowly washing it and once in a while touching your neck.

Your skin felt impossibly soft in his rough palms, and your scent was enough to send him far far away. He felt his heart racing, threatening with escaping his rib cage, he couldn’t believe you were there in front of him, a Targaryen princess, naked and inviting.

As he softly caresses your neck, you throw your head back enjoying the feeling of him touching your skin. His hands softly untangle your wet hair, and it surprises him when you let out a low moan when he accidentally pulled your hair.

“Oh,” Cregan could feel the heat rising to his face, and of course, his cock twitching.

Being this close to you was making him lose all his composure, but he did his best as his hands traveled to your shoulders from your hair, massaging them gently as you nudged back, encouraging him to continue.

“Shall… shall I move further down, my princess?”

He could physically feel your laugh against his hands, sending shivers down his spine.

“Yes.”

His hands moved along your shoulders, past your neck, and down to your upper back softly touching and caressing the path downwards your back. He can hear you sigh quietly, his hands coming back to your shoulder blades and slowly moving to your sides, just below your arms, both of his index fingers just barely brushing your breasts.

He stops, his hands still. “May I, your highness? I would never want to do something without your consent.”

You turn your head over your shoulder, watching him from the corner of your eye. “Go on, pup.”

His hands reach your chest, and he scoots closer, his (now) hard cock a few inches away from your ass. He warily cups your breasts, squeezing them gently as his fingers pinch your nipples, making them pebble.

You let out a whimper, shivering at the touch of his rough and big hands on your tits.

“Does this... please you, your highness? My hands on your perfect skin?” He cannot stop himself now, words spilling out his mouth as they didn’t before, his hands wandering around and playing with your chest.

“Yes, you’re doing such a good job, pup.” He blushes deeply but doesn't stop.

He’s still in disbelief, not entirely believing the situation happening in front of his eyes. The princess of Dragonstone telling him how good he's being for her? It is too much to comprehend, you’re so above him in any situation, but there you are, praising and wanting him to touch you.

“You want me to continue, my princess?”

You nod, “Go further,”

His heart starts to pound harder in his chest, like a war drum, but he continues to do as you say. One hand stays playing with your breast, stroking your nipple, and the other travels downwards through your belly.

“Like this?” He whispers in your ear, and you can feel his hot breath on the back of your neck.

You surprise him again by scooting back, your ass against his hardened length, he gasps, the plump of your ass touching his cock making him lose his vision for a second, not expecting it at all.

“Just like that,” Your words send chills down his spine, is he really about to do this with a princess? Is he really worthy of that? He swallows deeply, his mouth now dry, but his mind is made up. He wants you, and if you’re allowing him to do this, he won't complain at all.

“As you wish, my princess. How far would you like me to continue?”

“As far as you wish, pup.”

Your words leave him breathless, but he obliges.

Cregan’s hand on your belly travels further down, carefully to not overstep your boundaries but decided to resume his wandering on your body as his cock presses against your ass. His eyes are glued to the back of your neck, his touch is hesitant at first but your permission makes him feel bold, so he presses his one hand down further and the other squeezes your breast.

“Go on, pup,” You whisper, leaning your head back and resting it on his shoulder as his mouth grazes your neck towards your throat, breathing heavily, “You know what to do.”

He chuckles, but it comes out as a shaky breath. He knows exactly what to do.

His fingers slowly make their way down to your cunt, two digits slowly reaching your clit hovering over it, and moving down to your folds, feeling how you shiver.

You exhale shakily, leaning even more against his body, “Please.”

Cregan’s resolve breaks, blushing as he continues his ministrations, teasing your clit with his palm and fingers grazing your folds, rubbing them.

He’s so immersed in his teasing he doesn't notice when your soft hand grabs his, pushing it down towards your pussy hard. “I don’t like being teased, do your work.”

Your words drive him into a frenzy, immediately obeying and pushing two fingers into your cunt, hearing you moan. His hand on your breast leaves to support what the other one is doing, moving his fingers in a circular motion on your clit as the other fingers you.

You throw your head back into his shoulder harshly, groaning. “Don’t stop, pup.”

Cregan grinds himself against your ass as he thrusts into you, fingers deep into your pussy. Your breath starts to get labored and your shoulders begin to shake, he starts going faster, more vigorously as he hears your little whimpers with his name mixed into your chants.

“You’re doing so good for me, pup,” He grins proudly, his cock twitching at the breathy praise that falls from your lips, grinding harder against your ass.

Cregan makes you reach your peak after he pinches your clit and his long rough fingers thrust into you, shaking slightly as he holds you in place.

He’s still rock hard against your ass, and after a few moments to come back to yourself, you turn around to face him, your tits against his chest as you straddle his lap, not caring at all how the water splashes outside the tub.

Cregan’s cock is a sight, long and with a thickness it makes your mouth water. He watches you as you move around him until you grab his shaft making his dick brush your folds as you accommodate, the tip teasing on your hole.

“I want you, do you want me?”

He thinks that’s the dumbest question he's ever heard in his twenty-one years of life.

“Hell yes, my princess.”

You give him a wolfish grin as you sink into his length mercilessly in one go, your tight hole wrapping his cock in a warm embrace he can only answer by groaning loudly, his hands flying to your hips to help you steady yourself.

“You’re so tight, seven hells… my goddess, you’re so beautiful.” Your mouth parted at the sensation of his cock splitting you in two, combined with his praise, it’s enough encouragement to start riding him, water splashing everywhere.

His voice starts coming out as incoherences, between praises and swearing on how tight you are, and how your cunt was made for him, his mouth latching at your breast biting it and marking the sides when he can no longer say coherent words. You ride him hard and roughly, so it’s not a surprise when he spills inside your pussy and you follow him behind quickly with a second orgasm when he moves his hand down to rub your clit.

He hugs you as you both breathe heavily, trying to compose yourselves.

Your hand reaches his face, cupping his cheek as he looks into your lilac eyes like a puppy.

“You did so well, you’re not getting rid of me now.”

He beams at the praise, hugging you tightly, pressing your body against his with him still inside you, getting softer. “It is my pleasure to please you, my princess.”

vermithorn © do not copy, repost or translate my works

2K notes · View notes

wolken-himmel · 1 year

Text

In which Malleus overhears (Y/n) singing during one of his nightly walks.

Who knew that the prefect had such a lovely voice? Perhaps he has already heard it once upon a dream.

Request by anon.

The full moon adorned the shimmering stars in the night sky. Together, they casted a beautiful hue of white light onto the scenery of Night Raven College. On such nights, Malleus loved to wander the empty hallways of the main school building. The long and winding hallways seemed empty without the usual crowds of students, but perhaps the emptiness this contrast created drew him in.

A few crickets or birds could be heard here and there, but otherwise the night was silent. Malleus was about to finish his third round of the main building. He had hoped that the walking would take the worries off his mind. After not having found his favourite prefect at the Ramshackle mansion, he couldn't help but wonder where you were.

Perhaps you were sleeping, he mused. Humans had always been fragile beings that needed their beauty sleep.

Although he knew that you needed your sleep, he couldn't help but miss your presence. There were times when you would talk endlessly, never tiring of ranting and speaking. And then there were other nights when you wouldn't utter a single word — not out of discomfort, but instead because you seemed to enjoy the silence. Malleus liked hearing your voice, he had to admit, and it was during the latter that he would yearn to hear your lulling and soft voice.

His eyebrows began to crease again. He should stop thinking about your voice, or else he would find himself with a longing feeling in the pit of his stomach once again.

A soft sigh escaped his lips as he turned on his heel. It was time for his nightly walk to come to an end. As if stuck in time, he remained frozen for a while — indecisive as if procrastinating. But his responsible side eventually eased him into movement towards the mirror chamber. It truly was time to return his dorm and retire for the night.

"I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream."

Someone was singing. His pointed ears perked up in curiosity. Why would anyone be singing in the dead of the night, in some desolate hallway? His originally startled stance eased up as soon as he realised just how soothing the singing was. The voice seemed strangely familiar to him, though he couldn't put a finger on who the owner could be.

"I know you, the gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam."

The voice echoed along the hallway, thus earning an almost heavenly sound. Even if the owner might have sounded wonky at some points, he still found himself drawn in all the same.

"Yet I know it's true that visions are seldom all they seem." There it was again, the melody somehow becoming more enchanting by the minute.

Curiosity finally overwhelmed Malleus, and he once again turned on his heel to investigate. He found himself drawn in like a sailor to a siren's song. His feet seemed to move on their own, with a brisk urgency he hadn't felt in a long while. The originally faint singing grew louder, and he knew he was on the right trail.

"But if I know you, I know what you'll do~ You'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream."

A smile grew on his lips, and he closed his eyes in delight. He found himself having arrived when he spotted a dark silhouette in the next hallway. After having briefly peeked around the corner to realise his success, he quickly retreated behind cover and stayed there. With his back pressed against the cold stone wall, he closed his eyes in delight.

"But if I know you, I know what you'll do— You'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream."

The tune etched itself into his mind, and he quickly began humming along without realising. His heart had slowed to the pace of a snail, and he found himself in a truly wonderful space of mind. It had been a long while since he had felt so... at home. The voice brought him an unexplainable sense of comfort.

"I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream. I know you, the gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam."

The song began once again from the beginning, much to his delight. He never wanted it to end.

"And I know it's true that visions are seldom all they seem. But if I know you, I know what you'll do—"

So caught within a trance, Malleus never realised that his lips parted by themselves. "You'll love me at once," he sang along happily, "the way you did once upon a dream." The two voices mixed together to create a beautiful harmony that managed to pull at his heartstrings.

The more it hit him like a wall of bricks when the other voice came to a sudden halt. His eyes snapped open at once. Only then did he realise his mistake of having piped up accidentally. He cursed himself for having lost control so easily, but his instincts immediately made him jump out of hiding.

His eyes fell on the mysterious figure whose back was no longer turned to him. The moon light from the large windows fell on the face of the unknown singer. There you were, frozen like a deer in headlights. For what felt like eternity, you merely stood there and stared back at him in shock.

"Child of man?" he breathed out in disbelief. No wonder the voice seemed so familiar to him.

At once, you fell out of your stupor. The surprise on your face now replaced by embarrassment, you let out a sheepish chuckle. "Oh, it's just you, Malleus. I thought you were a teacher... I wouldn't want to get in trouble," you began to rant. "What are you doing out here at this time?"

He tilted his head to the side in amusement. "Shouldn't I ask you the same question? I thought you humans valued your nightly sleep."

Your cheeks grew warm at his comment, and you cast your gaze at the floor. "Well, uh... I couldn't sleep. Strange, eh?" Your eyes never met his; instead, they darted everywhere else. "Back in my world, I would sing whenever I couldn't sleep. I guess it tires me out."

"You could have stayed in the safety of your dorm." Malleus quirked an eyebrow when he noticed you shivering.

"Yeah, but Grim's snoring was way too loud."

A snicker escaped his lips at the way you rolled your eyes. He didn't voice his thoughts, but he found the gesture adorable. Nonetheless, he beckoned you towards him, whispering, "Come now, you are cold. You should return to your dorm. Have you sung enough for tonight?"

"I guess so," you muttered while suppressing a yawn. You let yourself be guided into the general direction of your dorm, his hand gently resting on your back.

"I didn't know you could sing so well," Malleus said after a while. "I could have listened to you all night long."

A sheepish smile flashed across your face. "Thank you."

The fae hummed happily. "Your choice of song seems familiar. Perhaps I've heard it once upon a dream."

#twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #reader insert #y/n #disney twst #twst x you #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #twst malleus #twst malleus draconia #twst malleus x reader #twisted wonderland malleus #gender neutral reader

2K notes · View notes

sushis-wild-imagination · 21 days

Text

Adore Me (Seungcheol x reader)

Summary: You are to go on vacation with Choi Seungcheol, Scoups, a member of a popular Kpop group Seventeen as a videographer, recording his vacation in Japan alone.

Genre: fluff

its a work of fiction!

Seventeen Masterlist

watch his Japan vacation vlog for more context

"Your hair looks okay, stop playing with it" the manager chimes in while we get some lunch. Seungcheol hijacked the camera for himself in front of him, partially so you could focus on the food. you were grateful.

Seungcheol and you were acquaintance, you've shot with seventeen multiple of their behind the scenes YouTube content so the boys are familiar with you. But this vacation seemed a little extra burdensome. Going with just Cheol and his manager was a bit awkward. You were always awkward around Cheol. Maybe it was his aura that intimidated you. With the other members around it wasn't as tense. "It's too cold here, my lips are chapped" he says gobbling up the food in front of him.

"Eat y/n, the food's gonna get cold" the manager says to you.

"It's it hot, there's steam coming out of it" you mention with your eyes on the food wanting to eat but not burning yourself.

You gather courage and take a bit of the food, immediately regretting it, you could not feel your tongue. You let out an involuntary squeal.

"Yah yah!" Cheol hands you a glass of water, his glass of water.

"Thanks" you mutter under your breath. Unsure of if he heard it even.

___

After lunch, you head out to the snow festival, the first thing that catches your eye are the small snowmen made by kids, there were at least a 50 of them, they were too cute, you ended up taking an insert.

"Are these what the kids made?" a voice behind you startles you and makes you jump.

You put a hand over your chest, "you scared me"

He giggles.

You've never seen him giggle this up close. It was kinda cute. You get why there's people praying to have him.

He catches a small smile on your face. "That's the first time you've smiled at me all trip" he says causing you to blush a little bit.

"Let's get your making a snowman" you say quickly changing the subject and he squats to collect the snow to make one.

He balls up the snow and hunts for twigs to make limbs out of. A kind child comes up to him and offers the twigs he had. It makes your heart melt.

___

The next day you head out to get some pictures in the beautiful snow. The manager felt sick from all the cold and could not make it. It made you nervous.

"Just some cute pictures for CARATs" He says and plops on the snow. He looked smaller than when he usually towers over you. Very pocket sized.

"Play with the snow, do something" you suggest. He ends up making a snow angel getting snow all over his beanie.

A couple more shots and you were done. He was on the snow and he tries to get up but couldn't. A chuckle escapes his lips embarrassed.

"My butt is frozen"

That makes you laugh too hard. You give him a hand not realising he is a huge man. He plops back down. He was now sulking while you laugh some more.

"You did that on purpose didn't you?"

"I didn't, I promise" you say and give him a hand again this time anchoring your feet in the snow a little better.

___

You are now headed the museum music boxes. Cheol stops to take pictures here and there.

"Something's wrong, I can't get this to focus" he says sulking and bringing the camera to you.

You take a look while he was right next to you looking, the cold air from his breathing was fogging up the screen. "You're fogging the screen" you say pulling the camera away from him.

"But I wanna see" he whines.

He's very sulky for a 28 year old man. You found it cute.

You fix his focus and he was now a happy child.

You make it to the museum and you follow him around as he tries out every music box. The way he intently tried to listen to the music from the box admist the crowd and the noise was adorable. His eyebrows furrowed, trying really hard to concentrate. Sometimes his eyes widen like a child, surprised at the tune.

"What song is this?" he hums a tune unfamiliar to you.

You listen to it, trying hard to remember.

"I have no idea"

"ah! It's Celine Dion! Every night in my dreams.." he sings softly.

"How did you not recognise that? Are you new to earth?" he jokes, putting the clock down. You crack a smile.

"Guess I am an alien from the star"

After some more picture taking you head out for dinner. ____

"Is not just my trip, you're allowed to get pictures"

You were clicking some pictures on the streets of Cheol. He thought you should get some pictures as well.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, of course, it's a vacation" he states and takes the camera from you pushes you to the scene.

You awkwardly throw a peace sign as one does.

"Ma'am look here, look here" he acts like a paparazzi that makes you laugh a little. He clicks multiple candids of you laughing.

You check the photos and they've come out well.

"Maybe you should consider switching career, Mr. Choi" you tease.

The pictures were cute.

"It's all the subject of the photo" he compliments and makes your face red.

____

You hand him a chapstick at at the restaurant, you've come to have dinner. His chapped lips were bothering you too much.

"Why are you looking at my lips anyway"

"They're so chapped! Don't they hurt?"

"Aww you care about me"

You roll your eyes, "Whatever helps you sleep well tonight"

He opens his mouth to say something but on second thought stops. He hijacks the camera once again to place in front of him.

He gets a few clips of him eating while you annihilate the food in your plate.

____

You were now walking back to the hotel, today was the last day of the vacation. You were a little bummed, Japan was beautiful, you made a promise to yourself mentally to come back here someday with your friends and family.

"How was this trip?" cheol's voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

"How was your trip?" you ask him, it was his trip. You were only an employee he hired at the end of the day.

"I had a relaxing trip"

"That's all that matters" you smile.

"That's not true"

"Why?"

You hear him inhale sharply.

"Did you not feel relaxed?"

"I did" you look at him confused, there was definitely an answer he wanted to hear, but you were unsure of it.

"Good" he says, looking satisfied with himself.

"Dokyeom told me you've been running around a lot lately" he starts.

"I have, there's so much content to edit, I've just been cooped up in my studio"

"I know, I thought this trip will do you good"

"What do you mean?" you stop at your tracks looking at him. He stops too.

"I asked for you specifically to come with me to shoot me"

You were touched and confused at the same time. "Why'd you do that?"

"I don't know, I thought you could use a break"

You smile at him appreciatively. "That's sweet of you, I didn't think you would do that" you add.

"What makes you say that?"

"It's just you have this aura"

"Have you been scared of me all this while?"

"Of course not!" you don't sound convincing at all.

He laughs at the lack of conviction.

"I hope you're not scared of me anymore"

"You're actually very adorable" it just slips out of your mouth as you defended yourself.

"why, thank you" he says confidently with his ears going red, either because of your compliment or the cold. You weren't sure.

"I hope you continue to adore me"

"I will"

#seventeen seungcheol #seungcheol #choi seungcheol #scoups #idol!reader #idol x reader #seventeen #kpop #Scoups x y/n #scoups x you #seungcheol x reader

220 notes · View notes

neverfindmegone · 2 months

Text

Hi people, so I'm not a writer and I never wrote anything but my darling @pinkthrone445 is always writing the most amazing things, so I wanted to write this in her honor. Sorry if it's extremely silly and not well written but is my first try 🖤

What I can see

You and Melissa had been friends for a couple of months now. You met the red head during your first day in Abbot. You were nervous as hell to work as a teacher's aid, but you have always loved children and working with them was a dream.

At first, Melissa wasn't very friendly, she was extremely sarcastic, making fun of you every chance she got.

You still remember your first meeting, Ava had come to introduce you to the red head and you couldn't form one proper sentence, being stunned by her beauty.

- What's the matter Hon, did the cat get your tongue?

After that you started to spend more and more time with the older woman, and the intimidation you felt started to turn into a deep admiration. Being her helper was such an interesting job, the learning range was big, from teaching kids with special needs to having the number of a guy who could help you with racoon problems.

Yes. Melissa was an interesting woman and you started to fall for her more and more each day.

At first you believed to be a innocent crush, but the more you had one on one conversations, you saw that you couldn't stop thinking about what hurricane of a woman she was. Her presence, her personality, her looks, you were completely obsessed. What resulted in you finding every excuse possible to be around her all the time. You would bring her coffee, invite for lunches, drinks, movies almost every week after work.

Melissa seemed to appreciate the extra attention you gave her, sometimes you could swear you caught her staring when she thought you weren't looking.

Her bright green eyes shined when you overshared and her hands always found away to touch you, shoulders, hands, thighs.

That's how you found yourself in the current situation. Ava was giving one of her Ava speeches, and you had Melissa sitting right next to you, her arm touching yours. You were caught giving her looks from the corner of your eye, every time your skins would brush.

- Does she sound drunk to you? She whispered in your ear.

The hairs on the back of your back stood up immediately and you were frozen for a second. Her breath ghosting your skin made you feel dizzy whenever she was this close to you. Damn this woman had put you wonder a spell or something. When did you start to be so easily affected?

Melissa noticing your lack of response, shoved your arm slowly. - You okay?

- Yes, I mean no, not drunk, maybe hung over? I saw on her Insta last night, she was at the club until late.

- Club on a Wednesday? That's brave even for her. She eye rolled, looking back at the stage.

- Come on Schemmenti. You looked at her. - Can't you handle going out on a school night?

Her head snapped immediately, green eyes finding yours, nostrils inflating. You liked teasing her, it was a part of the flirting banter you had going on.

You raised both of your eyebrows challenging her. - Too old?

- Are you kidding me kid? You, me, club tonight. She said snapping, challenging you back.

- Deal, I'll pick you up at 7.

---

Later that night, you knocked on Melissa's door at 7:15. A bit late, but nothing that would bother the older lady. When the door was opened, your jaw dropped. She was wearing a tight red dress, her creamy cleavage completely in display.

You couldn't stop staring at her breasts, your breathing getting elaborated. This was definitely the rack from God.

Melissa's voice broke up you from your paralysis. - What's the matter hon? Am I over dressed?

You frowned, seeing her insecurity.

- Are you kidding me? Mel, you look... You paused, your eyes raking over her body up and down slowly. - Exquisite.

- Really? I'm not sure about this. She said entering the house, with you following. - I had other options. She gestured for you to follow her into the bedroom.

- Maybe these black jeans? She pointed to the bed, where a bunch of clothes were scattered. - I haven't been to a club in a while, I don't know what I was thinking.

You looked around seeing the mess in the room, realizing that she was probably over thinking this. You wanted nothing more than reassure her, this woman was divine, how couldn't she know that?

- No, you look perfect, I promise.

Melissa made a face, showing that she didn't believe you, she walked to the large mirror in the corner of her room, before standing there, observing herself. Her hands moved over her dress, tiding it up. - Am I too old for this?

- Melissa, please. You giggled, how did this goddess believe she was too old for anything. That's when you remember your teasing earlier, you started to feel guilty. She wouldn't have been upset over that, would she?

- Is this about earlier? You asked approaching her. - Let me show you something. You continued, moving yourself behind her in the mirror slowly, afraid to scare her away. Your desire was to prove to the woman how gorgeous she really was.

- What do you really think? She said looking at you, finding your eyes in the mirror.

You moved your hands to her hips gently, holding her in place, while making eye contact with her.

- I think you will be the hottest woman there. You squeezed her hips gently, before giving them a tap. - Come on.

Melissa huffs, before looking at you with vulnerable eyes. - Oh please.

You move closer, keeping your eyes on hers, before resting your chin on her shoulder. - I don't think you are aware of the effect you have on people. Your arms hugged her from behind while you spoke.

The older woman eyerolled. - Huf, you have to say that, you're my friend.

- Melissa stop. You moved your hands to hers, before squeezing them. - Please see what everyone can see... What I can see.

She blushed deeply. - Listen kid, I...

You moved closer in a fast manner, making her stop talking. You pressed your front against her back completely, before starting - First, look at these arms. You moved your hands up and down her shoulders gently. - They are muscular and strong.

You felt her tense up, looking at you with uncertainty. You gave her a wide smile before you felt her relaxing again, she gave you a small nod, letting you know it was okay to continue.

You shifted your hands to her stomach, stroking it with your fingertips. - Look at this waste, so gorgeous and just the right shape. Her eyes shifted to your hands movements, and her breath started to increase it's path, as she felt you caressing her skin.

- And these hips? Your hand moved down her curves, touching her more intimately now, increasing the pressure of your hands.

- They are so attractive, when you walk, people at school can't stop staring at them. You know when I first met you I couldn't stop thinking about your hips and thighs.

She shaked her head no. - It's true. You breathed in her ear. - You carry such power and swag when you walk, it's impossible not to look.

Her eyes starting to shine, lips quivering as she felt your hands moving to her behind. - I don't think I need to tell you about this mouth watering ass of yours, do I?

Your eyes found hers, completely black now, your hand moving up and down her butt cheeks. Your touch was maddening, Melissa was starting to tremble and you heard a small whimper scape when your nails traced her shape, teasingly.

Your face moved closer to hers, your nose brushing against her cheek, your eyes never leaving hers. - But do you wanna know my favorite? You said slowly, letting the tip of your tongue brush against her earlobe.

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

Your hands roamed up her front and the red head felt like her skin was on fire, it was as if hot oil was being poured in every spot your fingers touched. Your hand stopped on her chest and you stretched your fingers to her neck, squeezing it gently.

- Y/N. She whimpered, her voice full of emotion.

Your fingers grasped her chin before turning her face to yours. - It's your face Melissa, I'm obsessed with your face. Your eyes kept drinking in hers while you spoke - Your eyes they are so green and deep. - Your smile lights up the whole room, it's contagious.

You leaned closer, letting your fingertips touch the tip of her nose - Your nose is sharp and perfect. You traced a path to her lips, observing her face deeply, like you were a painter and she was your master piece. Your fingers moved to her lips softly, the pressure light but steady.

- And your mouth, God your mouth.

Melissa held her breath, her eyes started to close, she was hypnotized by your caresses. Her eyes snapped open when she felt you pulling away. But before she could protest in disappointment you moved your hands to her breasts squeezing them roughly. You couldn't keep yourself away from them for one more second. - And these are the star of the show. You felt her nipples get hard while you played with them.

Her head fell to your shoulder before she groaned. - Fucking chirst Y/N.

You lost any self control you had left and turned her around, pressing her back against the mirror, trapping her with your hands beside her head . - Do you see it now? You asked, your eyes full of lust.

Her lack of response gave you the impression that she was uncomfortable, so you started to move away shyly. - Fuck, sorry Mel, I know we work together. Before you could finish your sentence Melissa grabbed your face and crashed her lips against yours. She was furious and putting all of her desire and longing into that kiss.

You had no idea how long she had craved this, how long she had craved you. And having your hands and whispers seducing her like that was enough to take the red head to a breaking point.

All she could see was black, her hands moved over your body frantically, squeezing every piece of flesh she could find.

You moaned feeling how dominant she had became, letting her take charge of the kiss. Your hands moved to her shoulders, clutching with force, returning all the fire the woman was giving you. You opened your mouth, accepting her tongue in. Your mind was dizzy with desire, and you couldn't stop yourself from moaning again.

- Holy fuck. You panted. You kissed for minutes, or what seemed to be hours. You couldn't get enough of her taste and she seemed to be obsessed with yours. Every time you would stop to breathe the other would pull in again with force, continuing the intense kiss. Your hands tangled in her gorgeous hair and hers groping you forcefully.

When you felt yourself close to fainting from the lack of air, you moved away from her, catching your breath so you could take a sight of what had just happened.

You moved your hand over your chest, trying to recover.

- Wow Schemmenti, I always assumed you were a good kisser but this, this is something else.

When you caught her eyes, she was still silent, chest and face red, she looked dangerous, almost a predator looking at her pray. - Mel?

She moved closer to you before shoving you in the bed savagely. You fell on your elbows harshly. - Ouch! Melissa! You said looking her with surprise.

- You had your fun seducing and playing me like pudding in your hands. Now it's my turn. She said while moving on top of you.

Her hands moved to your neck before squeezing it. - And you know something Y/N? She said while leaning in, letting her mouth hover over yours. - I don't think I want to go to the club anymore.

#Melissa schemmenti x you #Melissa schemmenti x reader #abbot elementary #Melissa schemmenti #Fanfic

170 notes · View notes

derekhighwaytf · 9 months

Text

InstaCub

I loved the Cha Cha Room. It was as exclusive as it was expensive, but hey that’s the price you pay when you’re a social media sensation. Being Trey, the sexy instagram model wasn’t without its downsides, however. The worst thing was when guys who should’ve known that someone of my caliber wouldn’t be interested in them tried to hit on me. Sure, I fucked my fans regularly, but only the ones that shared my dedication to beauty. I couldn’t help that I was born gorgeous.

My entourage, an aesthetically curated group of other models (all only slightly less attractive than myself) walked into the Cha Cha Room, ready to be gawked at, each of us oozing beauty and charisma. The crowd parted like the Red Sea, their eyes filled with awe, desire, and, my favorite, envy.

But amongst that sea, there was one guy that forced me to do a double take. Doug, rounder and balder than anyone else, didn't fit the usual demographic that came to Cha Cha. It was a mystery how he must’ve slipped his way in when security wasn’t looking, because there was no chance they’d ever willingly allow someone who looked like that to enter such exclusive premises. And, to make matters worse, when he caught me staring at his odd appearance, he began to make his way toward me, a small, devious smile playing on his lips.

"Can I buy you a drink?," he asked. I raised an eyebrow, my lips curling into a smirk. Sure, he was far beneath my standards, but I loved teasing my inferiors, especially when it comes with a free drink. "Well, aren't you a sweetheart," I replied, trying to hide my disdain for his smelly, musky demeanor.

As we talked and I pretended to listen, he must’ve farted at least three times, but I wanted to be nice, so I held my breath and counted the seconds till I could rejoin my way cooler group of friends. However, when Doug began flirting, I couldn’t help it. A chuckle bubbled up from my chest and I shook my head, saying "Doug, was it? No amount of drinks in this club could make me think you're anything but fat, smelly, and bald."

“And what’s wrong with that?” he said earnestly. “This is a bar for fat, smelly, bald guys after all.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked. Just as the words escaped my lips, I noticed something strange. As my eyes scanned the crowd, I realized that everyone, even my formerly flawless friends, looked just like Doug. They’d grown beards, their hair on their head was gone, and they all had guts the size of bowling balls. I felt a chill run down my spine as I started to walk away.

“I must be in the wrong place. I don’t belong here,” I said, just barely missing the door. But before I could free myself from this hellhole, Doug stopped me and said, “Yes you do. I think you fit in perfectly.”

Suddenly, my Gucci shirt felt tight around my midsection, and my once firm arms now felt doughy. As I turned to leave, a full-length mirror on the wall revealed a shocking transformation. I reached up and where once were lush and thick chestnut locks, was now greeted the cold, bare skin of a rapidly receding hairline, retreating with alarming speed, creating an expanding dome of skin I’d never seen before.

Clumps of my hair began to detach themselves from my scalp, falling gently to the club floor. Each strand felt like a piece of my identity, a piece of Trey, falling away to reveal the bald truth underneath. I watched in frozen terror, feeling each follicle detach until all that remained was nothing but a smooth, shiny surface. I was as bald as an egg.

And then I farted.

Pffffffft.

I was disgusted with myself for only a moment, until I started to let a hearty chuckle much deeper than my old voice.

I looked in the mirror again, my face so much more different than it was ten minutes ago—familiar, but not the one I had painstakingly maintained for the world to admire. Suddenly, the world seemed to shift as a flood of memories washed over me. I wasn't Trey, the Instagram sensation. I was Tom, a twenty-something, bald, overweight man who didn’t shower, farted every five minutes, and fucked anyone who’d have me. This was my bar and I was gonna make sure all my fellow cubs had a good time

As the rock music blared and the crowd at Tommy’s Den started to become increasingly alluring to me, I was suddenly hit with a wave of unfulfilled desire, a need for cock. So I pulled Doug aside to the bathroom and…well you can guess what happened next.

I was Tom now, and, honestly, my life was so much better…

Pffffffffft.

#bald #bald tf #male transformation #tf #gay tf #mental change #tf story #twink to bear #bear tf #bearification

518 notes · View notes

ficnation · 6 months

Text

Chapter 3: Splattered Brains

Series: “Eat Your Heart Out” Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Female! Reader x Will Graham Word count: 4,6k+ Warnings: canon-typical warnings A/n: Plot twist—I couldn't wait. Enjoy it, my darlings. (unedited)

Main Masterlist || Hannibal Masterlist

PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

Will looks through the peephole before opening the door, his entire body tense. He glances back at you apologetically, and you know he wants to continue where you left off. You want more too, but you understand—there’s the world outside, with its mysteries and its demands, and you both have to confront it.

The woman on the other side of the door is someone you don’t really recognize. Her face rings a bell somewhere in the back of your head, but you can’t say for sure you’ve met her before. She doesn’t seem like a person that would linger in your memory for long.

“Will,” the woman acknowledges him, red lips pressed into a thin line.

“Alana,” he responds, his tone flat and devoid of any sympathy. “What brings you here?”

Will’s face is frozen in a state of neutrality, neither annoyed nor pleased by the woman’s presence—it’s impassive. A tiny part of you wonders if he’s ever looked at you with this much disinterest. You know he doesn’t have it in him, he loves you with his entire being, but the idea makes a sour grimace crawl onto your face.

There’s no happy greeting between them, and it’s selfishly comforting even though it shouldn’t be. You don’t know her at all, yet she seems to be the polar opposite of what you stand for.

Alana’s eyes flit across the room, landing on you for the first time, and as her gaze lingers, she raises her eyebrow. Her face has a timeless quality, sharp angles, and beautiful, expressive eyes. But something about her doesn’t sit right with you. That look she sends you as if she’s inspecting you, trying to analyze you—you hate it.

“Don’t ask me that question when you already know the answer to it,” she says, her tone just as cold and detached as Will’s. “I’m here for a reason, Will. And the less you drag this out, the better.”

You notice Will’s fists clench at her words, you take his hand in yours, dragging the pads of your fingers across his white knuckles. He relaxes under your soothing touch. You take a step closer to him, pressing yourself against his shoulder.

“Just get to your point,” Will says, his coldness making the situation all the more tense. “What do you want from me?”

Alana stares at your entwined hands then her eyes meet yours again, and Will notices how her attention is immediately pulled solely to you—as if everything else is bathed in a thick fog. You notice how her lips slowly curve downward, just a bit. You think she might be envious.

She bites the inside of her cheek, proving you right. She’s jealous. You can’t help but smirk at this realization. Will glances at you, asking wordlessly for an explanation, because whatever game this is, he’s clearly not in the loop. You don’t give him what he wants this time.

“I will give you some privacy then,” you suggest, whistling at the dogs to follow you outside. You don’t have to call for them twice, as they run toward the door, waggling their tails. “Just don’t take too long. I don’t want to keep Crawford waiting.”

Before Will can object, the dogs dash out the door, and you follow in their steps, shutting it behind you. You know you did the right thing by giving them some space. How she treated Will was unforgivable, but he has to fight this one battle by himself—if you stayed there by his side, you’d probably bash her head against the wall. Not today. This fight has to be his.

You look over at the door, and you think you can hear their voices through the walls, but you’re not entirely sure. After a few moments, the door opens and Alana storms out. She doesn’t even look at you, she just turns on her heel and walks away, leaving Will behind.

You lean against the railing of the porch, the dogs snuggling up against your calves for pets and scratches—something you never deny them. It’s a moment of peace in a world full of chaos, and you can’t help but enjoy it all—even the chill bite of the winter air. It’s refreshing after spending all night and morning with Will, whose body radiated so much heat, and who left you breathless every time he was close.

He steps out on the porch, and you turn to face him, confusion written across your features. The man only shakes his head, staring at her retreating back. You don’t pry, and he doesn’t tell. There’s a wordless understanding between the two of you already—he’ll tell you when he’s ready, and his emotions are no longer an overwhelming susurration.

Will takes his place at your side, elbows leaning on the wooden balustrade. Both of you watch in silence as Alana Bloom walks down the driveway, soon disappearing from your view.

“You don’t like her much, huh?” you ask, voice laced with irony.

You don’t really expect an answer, so he only rolls his eyes. But there is a hint of sadness in them, a tiny sign of his own disappointment, at himself, her—all of it. He takes your hand in his and leans forward to kiss your icy-cold cheek.

He pulls away then, his gaze fixed on you. “We should get going,” he says quietly. “You don’t want to keep Jack waiting.”

And he’s right. You’ve been out here a little too long, and Jack is bound to be impatient by now. You’re sure he’s already called twice to ask you where you are.

Your cheek still tingles from the kiss, but you remain focused on the way Will’s expression shifts slightly. He’s crestfallen, there’s no denying it, and you know this conversation took a toll on him—even if he doesn’t want to admit it. He calls the dogs inside, then locks the door. You squeeze his hand, and with a sigh of resignation, the two of you head to the car.

The cold has gotten to your skin, and you can feel every pore of your body aching for warmth. The windshield is covered in a thin layer of snow, and your body shivers as you wait for Will to swipe it off with his glove-covered hand. Even though he already unlocked the car, you refuse to let him suffer in the unforgiving winter alone.

Once he’s done, he joins your side and opens the passenger door for you. The protest on the tip of your tongue dies off when he guides you inside with a steady hand on the small of your back—you comply. He closes it behind your back with a satisfied grin that doesn’t really reach his eyes. He gets in the driver’s seat and starts the car, warming it from within.

You put on the seatbelt, and relax your muscles, letting your fingers trail along the armrest and the door, enjoying the warmth against your skin. Your mind is wandering, lost in memories of the morning and the little moments you shared with Will.

“You know…” Will starts from behind the wheel, his eyes don’t stray from the road ahead. There’s a quiet moment between you two while he considers what he has to say, and when he finally talks, he barely mumbles the words under his breath, “I was thinking…”

“About what?” You raise your eyebrow in curiosity, giving him all your attention and more.

“Well, I was thinking…” he pauses for a moment, the words struggling to leave his lips, he’s visibly tense.

You want to say something, help him find the words. It’s clear he needs a little push. So you reach up and caress his stubbled jaw—the lightest of touches—hoping the gesture can help ease him out of this nervous state.

It works. Will sucks on his bottom lip for a moment, still facing forward, but at least his face is calm now. “I’ve always been in love with you.” Even though it’s only a whisper, the confession sounds like thunder in your ears—its rumble shaking every tiny cell in your brain. “I never said it out loud until you disappeared. I regret it to this day.”

That’s all it takes for your chest to tighten and your heart to start hammering wildly. It makes you wonder if you’re on the verge of having a heart attack. You know you love this man—you know more than anyone else on this earth just how strong your feelings are for him. You were always aware that he reciprocated it—in his own intricate way, but there was no way to be absolutely certain. Hearing him say it now—gifted your mind with a blissful sense of peace.

You look at him, and you can’t find the words to respond. Nothing that comes to mind is even faintly close to what you feel for him, so you settle for a gentle squeeze of his thigh.

Will glances at you, his eyes roaming over the curve of your cheekbones, the shape of your lips, the long lashes fluttering over your eyes—you’re breathtaking. You don’t even need to respond—he knows how you feel already, and he’s just happy to have you by his side again. He’s head over heels, hopelessly and utterly—in love.

“I’ve never met anyone who made me feel the way you do,” Will continues, and the words ring out in the cramped space of the car. “Nobody has ever seen me the way you do. Nobody has ever loved me the way you do. You’ve been the only light in my darkness, the only source of hope in my life.” His voice softens with every word, and he doesn’t look at you as he talks, afraid he’ll get distracted if he does. He just needs to get it all out.

Your smile is so bright when he catches it in his peripheral vision—it could probably replace the stars at night. He takes a pause, and you wonder if all those words have made him feel better. It seems like that’s the case—he looks so much more peaceful next to you, no longer tense from holding in everything he felt.

Will chuckles, and it fills the air with a different kind of light that washes over you and makes you feel just a bit warmer. Just as you retract your hand from his thigh, his own reaches past the center console, his palm grazing your knee to find it again. He interlaces his fingers with yours, and you think you’ll die of joy, and you wish the drive in the car never had to end—you could stay like this, his hand clasped tightly to yours, forever.

Silence falls between the two of you, but you’re so close to each other that it feels like there’s no need to speak. The tension in the car is gone, and Will’s words still linger in your mind. I’ve always been in love with you…

You’re so caught up in this elation, you don’t even notice when you reach your destination. The brutalist architecture of BAU’s building makes you feel intimidated—more than you anticipated. It’s cold, uninviting. There’s also another feeling that crawls over your skin, a sense of dread, but you shake it off before it can completely take over.

Will pulls into a parking spot, turns off the engine, and faces you. “We’re here,” he says, a grim expression on his face. It’s so different from how you just saw him a mere moment ago.

You share that expression. You feel it on your face, the weight of it pressing down on your soul as you slowly realize that you’ll need to step away from the bubble of happiness you’ve been in. It’s not a bubble you would ever want to pop—so you have to leave it behind. Shut it off.

You take in the headquarters’ exterior, its harsh outlines, and the shadows it casts on the already grim streets of Quantico. Your stomach sinks. There’s a part of you that missed this place, being in the field and helping people—it used to be your dream—but now you despise it. You don’t want to go back to seeing dead bodies over and over again, hearing the murmur of their whispers that never disturb the air and never leave you in silence for too long.

“I’ll take you inside,” Will offers, but you don’t really have a say in it either way. Of course, he notices the solemnity on your face. He puts his hand on your cheek, the skin of your cold face against his warm palm warming you for a brief moment. “Are you okay?”

“No,” you answer simply. You don’t have to say anything more.

Will gently caresses your jaw, thumb brushing softly against your lower lip. His eyes are filled with concern for you. He nods slowly, his hand still on your cheek. You can’t even explain what you’re feeling right now, but he understands as much—he’s been there too.

“I know it’s not easy,” Will says softly. “But I’m sure Crawford won’t keep you there long.”

You’re about to voice your doubts, the million reasons as to why this is a terrible idea, but then you pause. You can’t seem to find them—there is no single coherent thought in your head, the stress of the day finally taking its toll on you.

Will sighs and pulls away, leaving his hand hanging in the air for a while before he finally rests it on his own thigh. He climbs out of the car, and you take a few deep breaths to try to quiet the voices inside your head. You don’t know what you need, you just know that you don’t want this.

You step out, and the silence between the two of you doesn’t go unnoticed. Will reaches out to you once again and puts a hand on your shoulder, as if he can’t decide what to do, either. He looks over your shoulder—at the towering building in the distance.

The man sighs and steps closer to you. He looks at you, eyes roaming over your face, scanning every single detail of your expression. His voice is soft, almost a whisper. “I know it doesn’t feel right being back here,” he says, his hands still resting gently on your shoulders. “But I need you to be strong, for just a few minutes. Okay? This might be important.”

You nod, willing to do anything for him—anything at all. The deep breath you take in almost makes your lungs flutter in outrage.

“That’s my girl,” he says, his voice a little softer than usual.

He pulls away finally but doesn’t let go of you entirely. His hand holds tight to your fingers, and Will starts to walk you toward the building. It’s cold, windy, and you’re not looking forward to a single second of being inside that building. You’d much better prefer to freeze here outside—maybe turn into an ice sculpture if you’re lucky.

There is an undeniable uneasiness in Will’s expression as he opens the big doors and ushers you inside. It’s a big lobby, and every person there is busy with tasks, on the phone, typing something or other away on their computers.

You see Crawford sitting on one of the couches in a corner that almost resembles a waiting room. He glances at Will, and his expression only hardens upon seeing you two together. You want to run away, but Will has a grip on your arm and doesn’t let go.

“Come with me,” Crawford says to you, his tone stern and a little annoyed, probably by the fact you’re twenty minutes late. “We need to have a long conversation.”

You share an unsure look with Will, he nods encouragingly. You feel his hand gripping yours, and you notice how shaky you are. For a moment, you wonder what the hell you’ve signed yourself up for by coming here.

Crawford heads for the nearest elevator, not waiting for you to catch up with him. His attitude is clear—he’s annoyed, and he wants results. That’s how it’s always been, but you never got the chance to get used to it.

“I will be here when you come back,” Will promises, tentatively releasing you from his hold.

You nod in acknowledgment before following after your former boss with hurried footsteps.

It’s a tense, uncomfortable, and entirely too silent ride up to the top floor. The lights are bright, almost blinding, as the elevator rises. Crawford stands by your side, arms crossed over his chest, face expressionless. You wonder what he even needed you here for.

He walks ahead of you and takes out a keycard from one of his pockets. A moment later, he uses it to open a door in the hallway, revealing a large office. The lights inside are dim, almost cozy, and the view from the large windows is one you recognize. Crawford heads inside, telling you to follow with an exasperated sigh.

“They moved your office two more doors down the hallway,” you notice, looking around in curiosity. You hope your poor attempt at loosening the atmosphere works, even just a bit.

Once Crawford chuckles at your words, you know you succeeded. “You’ve always looked for distraction, haven’t you?”

He takes a seat behind his desk and motions for you to do the same. He spends a few moments looking you up and down with a blank expression, the kind he usually reserved for suspects at interrogation.

“Have I changed that much?”

Crawford shakes his head, a grin forming on his lips. “Not really.” He sighs and leans back in his chair, taking in the view from the nearby window. “Though you look older than I remember.”

“It’s been long eight years,” you admit with a nod. You don’t even want to think about all the new wrinkles that materialized on your face through those years.

His eyes travel over the length of your arms, and then over your face again. “I can see time’s been hard on you,” he says. You know he’s not referring to your physical appearance, and that’s what stings the most. “You haven’t had it easy, have you?”

“I managed.” You don’t give him more than that. The stories of your suffering are yours to tell when you feel ready—and you don’t.

Crawford’s lips narrow as he considers your response. He doesn’t seem to be one who accepts “I managed” as an answer. Then again, he’s never been the patient type. You’re surprised when he doesn’t question you further on the matter.

He leans forward to grab a folder from inside his drawer. “I brought you here because I wanted to talk to you about Hannibal Lecter.”

You sit up straight and lean forward in your chair. Your eyes, bright and curious, are fixed on Crawford, who seems to notice it.

“You seem interested,” he says in the same neutral tone as always. He opens the folder and starts flipping through the pages. Then, he sets the folder down and looks straight at you. “I’m here to ask you a question,” Crawford says, “and I want you to think very hard about your answer before you say it.”

The room is quiet, still, and your heart is beating frantically in your chest. The silence stretches on, and it’s so loud you can practically hear it.

“Do you believe the Chesapeake Ripper murdered your father’s killer?”

You study Jack for a moment, noticing the gleam in his dark eyes, and the way he focuses entirely on your response. You weigh your options—you can deny it and trust that Will already has a plan to catch Hannibal, or you can tell the truth and hope your former boss doesn’t consider you delusional.

“Yes, or no?” Crawford urges you, his tone sharp. It takes all your willpower not to answer right away.

“I do,” you blurt out finally with a resigned sigh. “I think he did it.”

The man nods slowly, his lips pressed together in thought. He doesn’t seem surprised by what you told him—it almost makes you wonder how much he already knows.

“Do you have any proof?” he asks. That’s the million-dollar question, and you know your former boss isn’t asking it just to make conversation. “Do you have anything to support your claim?”

“I wasn’t allowed near the evidence.”

“Don’t bullshit me.”

You feel your stomach twisting into knots for a second, but you remain calm. Crawford is not the kind of man you can lie to, so you take a breath and say what you have to say, the words spilling out of your mouth on their own.

“I know it sounds crazy,” you admit, “and I can’t say that I expected you to believe me. But I know I’m right about this.” You can feel Crawford judging you with his relentless gaze, so you continue, “He lost far too much blood, yet there was no sign of it pooled around him. Not the amount he’s lost. It’s almost as if it was drained out of him.”

Crawford only nods. He doesn’t look at you like you’re crazy—he looks at you like he’s studying a puzzle. He considers your words, staring at your face, his expression still and unchanging. Your words feel like they’re bouncing in the air, waiting for a response, for something that isn’t silence.

“And you’re sure there’s no other plausible explanation for it?” his tone is curious, interested.

Your heartbeat quickens as you shake your head back and forth. “No, that’s impossible.”

He’s intrigued now. The man doesn’t say a word, but you can tell from the way he looks at you. Crawford looks like he almost believes you. He’s interested, alright—very interested.

“Do you think it was Hannibal?” he asks. You notice the change in his tone, and you know a yes or no response will not be enough for Crawford this time. He needs the answer to satisfy his curiosity.

He has an aloof expression on his face, the kind that never truly gives away his thoughts. It keeps you hanging in uncertainty, because you have no idea what you should tell him that could possibly sate that curiosity.

“I believe Will.” Your answer is short, devoid of anything he was hoping for.

Crawford doesn’t seem to like that answer, at least by the way his eyes narrow and the way his lips tighten into a thin line. Then, after a momentary pause, he leans forward in his chair, his elbows resting on his desk.

“And what’s this belief based on?” he asks, his tone demanding, almost a challenge. He’s expecting you to tell him, to give him a reason to believe you.

“He’s not insane, Jack.”

“What makes you think he’s sane?”

You don’t hesitate when you give your answer this time. “Because I know him.”

You notice his eyes studying you once again, his gaze not stopping on any detail of your face. He doesn’t comment on what you just told him, and doesn’t tell you whether he believes you or not. Instead, he leans back in his chair once again and sighs. He lets his fingers tap against the wood of the table for a moment, a small sound in the quiet office.

“Your father’s case will be reopened. Be prepared to be questioned again,” he says, his voice very much like the Crawford you know. “Now I need you to answer me one last question.”

“What is it?” You tilt your head, you almost look curious, as if whatever he wants to ask isn’t something that worries you. It’s a carefully built facade, and you hope he doesn’t see straight through it.

It’s an uncomfortable few moments, as Crawford takes a break from his tapping to look straight at you with those intense eyes. The wait is almost killing you—but the tension in his expression might be even more deadly. He’s thinking deeply, and whatever he’s just figured out isn’t anything that you would like to be privy to.

“I want to offer you a deal,” is all he says. He leans back, crossing his arms over his chest.

“What deal?”

Crawford takes a deep breath as if he’s been holding it in for the better part of his life.

“I want you to go back to BAU.”

“No.”

He blinks, completely caught off guard by your response. You didn’t think saying no would be that easy. He pauses before his lips form a firm line.

“That wasn’t a request,” he says.

“Well, you can’t really force me.” You shrug your arms—not even slightly moved by the intimidating raise of his eyebrow.

“Actually, I can.”

The air around you changes. You can feel the meaning behind his threat like a heavy weight, pressing down on your skin, suffocating you. You go to breathe, but find that the air is suddenly too thin, that it’s like breathing underwater. The world around you buzzes like a lightbulb before it explodes.

You can hear the screams of your sister, her wretched sobs, her desperate begging for you to stop. The buzzing gets louder—the image of your father’s body sliding down the wall as his brains splattered over the flowery wallpaper burns alive in your mind.

You blink once, then twice, making sure there’s no suspicion nor satisfaction on Crawford’s face. There isn’t and relief washes over you like a wave—one that’s perfect for surfing.

“You can’t.”

Crawford’s face contorts, his lips twisting into a frown. He eyes you carefully. You can tell his mind is racing, trying to come up with something to make you join his team. There’s a heavy silence between the two of you as if you could hear a pin drop. You wait carefully with your breath bated and watch your former boss, waiting to see what he’ll do.

“Do you want your sister’s case solved or not?” he taunts. So that was his leverage over you.

It’s almost jarring to hear him mention her, to see him play this card. You take a deep breath and keep yourself calm. His thought process was on point—you had to give him that. You’d do anything for your sister and to get rid of that stormy cloud hanging over your head anytime the room was too quiet or someone dared to mention her person.

“Yes,” you agree finally, “I want her case solved.”

“Then go back to BAU. It’s your answer.”

That tone of his makes it hard not to laugh out loud. You thought it might be that simple—a yes or no, two letters of the alphabet. That didn’t apply to Jack Crawford, it seems. He wants an answer, and he will get one. A smile curls on your lips as you consider how to proceed. You’d have liked to have more leverage in terms of negotiation, but unfortunately, you have none.

“Then make me an offer worth my while.” You cross your arms over your chest and wait with a raised eyebrow.

Crawford is still the boss you know and love, albeit slightly confused by your attitude. It’s clear that this isn’t how he expected you to respond. His lips curl into a frown again, but he seems to think of something suddenly.

“I want you to join BAU as Will Graham’s partner. You’ve worked with him before, and I need you on the team,” he asserts. “I need you to look at his cases from your perspective. You will have access to all resources we have available at the bureau. That’s my offer. Take it or leave it.”

You can’t help the surprise that colors your expression now. Working with Will again, and having access to the FBI’s resources, it’s impossible to say no. Now you might have a chance against the cunning mind of Hannibal Lecter.

You don’t even hesitate as you say, “Deal.”

Crawford’s eyes soften as he hears your answer, and you can tell he’s glad you’re not going to give him a difficult time.

“The decision is yours, then,” he says finally. Your eyes meet his. “Will you go back to BAU?”

You nod in response, showing him the brightest of your smiles. “Absolutely.”

#eat your heart out #hannibal lecter x will graham #will graham x hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter #hannigram #hannibal #hannibal lecter x reader x will graham #hannibal lecter x reader #will graham x reader #will graham #hannigram x reader #hannibal nbc #will graham x reader x hannibal lecter

351 notes · View notes

kyotosworld · 4 months

Text

movie night

pairing: captain america!steve x reader

summary: Steve shows up injured to your weekly movie night so of course you have to help him

warnings: reader is portrayed as shorter than steve, language, mutual pining--almost annoying how much they pine

word count: 1.3k

Waiting for Steve is the worst. You hated not knowing whether he would come back to you.

It’s your weekly movie night, a ritual you guys started up in your freshman year of college after you realized he hadn’t seen a lot of movies.

You two are eating lunch together when Steve mentions that he’s never seen Toy Story, and never actually understands your references to them. He only laughs to make it seem like he does. You gasp in horror before asking, “Where have you been??"

An answer you later found out to be “frozen for 70 years.”

Somehow—after you’d begged him—, he agreed to let you show him the “best movies known to man,” promising him that it was not at all biased.

So now you’re here, waiting for him in his apartment. But you haven’t heard from him in an hour. Which you know isn’t that long, but in his line of work, it could mean anything.

You know he could be MIA for weeks at a time and safe, but that didn’t stop you from worrying.

You told him it was okay and that you could just reschedule. But he insisted, promising to be there and telling you to wait at his apartment. Finally, you hear a jingle of keys at the door and almost trip over a kitchen stool as you speed over to open it, a little too eager to see a friend.

When you open the door, there he is—a little scratched up and dirty—but somehow still managing to look as beautiful as always. Just the sight of him produces the biggest smile on your face, but your bright smile dims when you notice a deep scar on his right cheek.

“Oh my God! What happened?” You shout before bringing your hand up to feel his cut.

He looks a little surprised having been interrupted in trying to open the door before answering, “It’s not a big deal.” He smiles softly in an attempt to stop your worry, which it almost does, “You should see the other guy.”

You chuckle a little at that but continue to hold his face, softly brushing your thumb over his cut, your eyebrows furrowed in concern. Not at all missing the fact that he’s holding in his breath in an attempt to hide his pain.

But then you're hit with the realization that you’ve been touching him for too long. "Sorry,” you mumble, embarrassed, quickly putting your hand down.

“Don’t be,” he says, picking your hand up and placing it back on his face. “You can touch me all you want," he adds, staring straight at you.

You raise your eyebrows at him, then quickly change the subject. "Umm-ok, let’s get you cleaned up,” you say as you turn and walk towards his bathroom, missing the small smirk you produce on his face before he closes the door.

For whatever reason, your face warms when you hear Steve's footsteps following behind you. Maybe because there was a time when he refused any help, but now he accepts it without issue, and you’re glad to be there for him.

When you get to the bathroom, you pull out his first aid kit and tell him to stay still as you try to reach an alcoholic swab up to his face. Despite your many efforts, you can’t do it without leaning your head so uncomfortably far back or standing on your tippy toes due to the giant that is Steve Rogers.

He softly chuckles before grabbing your hips, picking you up, and placing you on the counter. “There. Better?” he asks, looking straight into your eyes. His strength never fails to amaze you.

At that, you inhale sharply, only to stop breathing as you notice your legs are practically wrapped around his waist and he's standing very close in between your legs— in order for you to clean his wound of course. "Yeah, yeah..much,” you try to say as coolly as possible, not planning on letting him know how nervous you’ve become all of a sudden.

It doesn't go over your head that Steve could have easily just sat on his couch to fix your problem, but you have to admit that you do like this method just a little bit better.

And his hands are still on your hips. And you try to think of anything else, but how can you when Steve Rogers is touching your hips?!

So you try your best to turn your focus completely towards his cut in hopes of forgetting your situation right now. When you wipe it with the swab, he hisses and squeezes your hips in response to the pain, and you can’t help but softly gasp.

Causing him to ask concernedly, “Are you okay?” with a grimace on his face, no doubt in pain of his own.

“Am I okay?” you ask in disbelief, a little over exaggeratedly in hopes of distracting from your very confusing feelings right now. “Steve, you got a big ass scar on your face, and you’re worried about me?” you ask incredulously.

“Of course,” he says seriously, “I’ll always worry about you."

A silence washes over you two as you stare at each other. Feeling things for him that you hadn't before, or maybe you just hadn't realized till now. Seeing him in a new, more intimate light.

Crash!

The loud sound of the cleaning alcohol bottle falling over interrupts you.

“Shit.” You let out a breath that you didn't know you were holding, and you guys finally look away when Steve goes to pick up the bottle.

You both chuckle lightly before he gets back up. Though he seems to have miscalculated how close you were before because now you’re really close. And you’re not chuckling anymore.

Your breath hitches across from his very close face, and you two don’t say anything for a bit before Steve notices how tense you’ve become.

“Sorry,” he whispers as he backs up a little, looking down in shame. Misinterpreting your tenseness for discomfort and not the things you’re too scared to admit.

“No. Don’t be,” you reply with a new, unknown sense of confidence as you pull his arms closer to you. “You can stand close to me all you want,” repeating the words he said to you earlier.

He chuckles at your familiar statement, looking up at you shyly, as he tentatively takes a step closer and lets you return his hands to your hips.

Butterflies form in your stomach at this, but you choose to ignore them. Instead you place the biggest bandage you can find on Steve’s wound, trying to convince yourself that those flutters are unrelated to the man standing before you.

“There you go." You whisper with a smile as you lightly tap Steve's cheek. “All better.”

“Thank you, doc,” Steve breathes out, seemingly relieved with the sweetest smile on his face.

“Anytime.” You smile brighter back, and your nose scrunches in return.

And for whatever reason, he lightly squeezes your hips at that. It was almost like he was telling you he liked that. But being the most afraid and oblivious people you are, you guys don't address it and instead decide to go on with your movie night like nothing happened.

You hop off the counter with Steve's arms still wrapped around you, hovering for a bit as he makes sure you are stable before letting go. You quickly glanced up at his face,, a question in your eyes as he doesn’t normally touch you this much, only to find that he was already looking at you.

Panicking, you quickly avert your eyes, walk out of the bathroom, and head to the kitchen to start heating up some popcorn.

The rest of the night goes on like this: sneaking glances at each other—that you thought the other didn't notice—without actually saying what was on each other's minds.

Maybe one day you guys won't be as clueless or scared about your feelings for each other, but for now, you’ll just sit on the couch. Pretending to be engaged in some movie while actually being more interested with the person seated next to you.

245 notes · View notes

adrunkskeletonsduck · 1 year

Text

Tʜᴇ Wᴇɪɢʜᴛ ᴏғ Yᴏᴜʀ Wᴏʀᴅs | Pᴀʀᴛ 2

➜ Pairing: Aonung x fem!Sully!reader

➜ Warnings: fighting, angst, mentions of body image issues

➜ Word Count: 0.9k

➜ Notes: I almost lost the entire fic

Pᴀʀᴛ 1 | Pᴀʀᴛ 2 | Pᴀʀᴛ 3

Aᴠᴀᴛᴀʀ Mᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

You’d been threading together a new necklace and humming a low tune to yourself when your attention was pulled from your work. You looked up at the sound of someone entering the Muri pod, your face dropped instantly as you saw it was Aonung, who seemed hesitant, almost nervous, as he stepped inside. His words from earlier that day still rang loudly in your ears, he was the last person you wanted to see at the moment. You’d busied yourself right after as a means of distraction, but the work your mother had provided could only distract you so much from the building sense of dread for yourself.

You averted your gaze back to your work quickly, continuing your task.

“Neteyam will kill you if he sees you here,” you stated, and Aonung flinched at the distaste in your tone. Distaste for him. He didn’t respond, not because he didn’t think you were worth his time of day but because he was unsure what to say. His stomach churned with anxiety and suddenly he felt like this had been a bad idea. Why was he even here in the first place again? To apologize to you, right, but what was he even planning on saying?

You stood, tying of the necklace and setting it by your feet before crossing your arms over your chest. “If you’re here to torment again then just leave, I’m not in the mood for this.”

He looked at you, guilt weighing in his eyes as he spoke in a hushed tone. For a moment you almost felt bad for being so harsh on him. Almost.

“No, no that’s not why I’m here,” he finally said, and you raised an eyebrow.

“Then why are you here?” you asked

He cleared his throat awkwardly, “I’m here to apologize,” this time his words came out more confidently, and you didn’t have to strain to hear them, still you scoffed.

“An apology won’t do anything.”

“Then how can I make it up to you?” he surprised even himself with the question, he had never gone to these lengths for anyone, simply because he had never cared to. So, what made you so different from everyone else that he found himself chasing after you like this?

“You can’t.” Your words were like knives in his chest, and he took a sharp breath in feeling himself growing desperate and impatient.

“Look I really didn’t mean any of those things I said. I don’t think your body is weird, I think it’s beautiful. I think your beautiful- “

“Your words just don’t come from nowhere Aonung! You said it and you can’t take it back or anything that those words will put me through! So, no you cannot make it up to me!” Your mouth was moving on its own accord, and the volume of your voice going up until you were screaming at him.

Aonung stood frozen across the room, fists balled at his sides and jaw clenched shut tightly. There was a long, drawn-out silence between the two of you once you’d finished. Aonung was the one to break it after a moment.

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset over this,” he started, “It was one stupid comment and I didn’t even mean it! You’re being ridiculous-” you strode across the room, cutting him off with a loud smack as you reached out and slapped him clean across the face. The action made his head jerk to the side roughly and his eyes widen. You were just as stunned by your actions as he was but you swallowed your surprise and looked up at him.

“Get out,” you whispered, glossy eyes staring at him fiercely. He was fuming with anger and you could practically feel it rolling of him in waves as he turned his head back towards you, but you stood your ground, raising your voice again when he didn’t budge, “Get out!” you yelled again.

This time he listened, spiting curses at you as he walked out, one hand still balled into a fist by his side while the other rubbed the cheek where you had slapped him. Even after he was well out of sight, you stood there staring after him until the tears welled in your eyes began to drip down your face, until your hands began to shake and your body began to heave with sobs. You fell to the ground, one hand clutched against your heart as you cried, strangled sounds leaving you.

You couldn’t understand why this was happening to you, or what you’d done to deserve it. This stupid insecurity had weaseled its way into every corner of your life, and killed every flower in your garden. You wished so badly to get rid of it and every time you began to think you had it would come back and smother another spark. It wasn’t fair that you had to carry this burden.

You looked behind you, focusing onto the necklace you’d been working on that now laid discarded on the ground. You could barely make out its shape now through your tears, but you didn’t need to see it to know where each colorful bead and stone laid. It had been for him and you weren't even sure why you’d finished it after the incident earlier that afternoon. Maybe you just hadn't wanted your hard work to go to waste, but now you were sure it would, because you really didn’t see either of you coming back from this.

Maybe you’d just have to give it to Tsireya instead.

@cherridile @oomietopia @yeosxxx

#adrunkskeletonsduck #avatar #avatar twow #avatar way of the water #x reader #avatar fic #avatar imagine #aonung x reader #aonung fic #aonung imagine #aonung x you #aonung x y/n #fem reader #sully!reader

2K notes · View notes