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anantaru · 1 year

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GENSHIN + WHERE HE LIKES TO FINISH

— ꒰ including ꒱ — diluc, alhaitham, kazuha, scaramouche, childe x fem! reader

— ꒰ a/n ꒱ — new year, new layout

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ns]fw, messy, they‘re v whipped for you

— ꒰ DILUC ꒱ + inside of you

"do you feel me?"

a little coquettish, diluc spoke against your neck, rolling his hips into your spread open hole, giving into the sobbing pleasure.

you're curling your fingers into his deep red hair, lightly digging your nails into his scalp, "d-diluc, please." your shaking proceeded to become more violent and so where his sloppy thrusts.

"c-can't get enough of you, ever." he admitted, his ruts now so uncoordinated and uneven, you realized diluc was close, on the edge of his so called blissful release, a hairbreadth away from tasting the so called euphoria.

his hips added onto speed before he was able to control himself, the way your dripping pussy was engulfing the entirety of his whole length so greedily and desperate was coursing through his pulsating veins.

diluc wanted to release right now, urged you to milk him with your sweet little cunt, that belonged to him, just him.

only he was allowed to worship you, eat you out and lastly, spill his gift deep inside you until you were nothing more than a stuffed full, fucked out mess underneath his huge body.

"ah- fuck." he hilts himself completely, hips grinding and hitting the mushy, abused spots within you, "fuck!" as he bit his lip to control his words, it still did not constrict him to moan your name in pure ecstasy, hauling himself down to quickly chase your mouth with his.

you're grinding your hips up fully, meeting his tempo, mewling and sobbing sweetly as you hiccuped his name, over and over, a small bubble of tears splattering over your warm cheeks that had you bury your face in him.

and then you feel him, all of him, his warm thick cum was heavy and turned your body giddy, soiled with pleasure. As a clear result his breathing came short, diluc felt himself untwist in you, emptying his white essence and burying it, as if he didn't want it to leave anymore.

"it's leaving." he suddenly claims, you didn't expect his lips to form a somewhat similar expression of a pout, he was almost relentless by how greedily he urged his cum back to nestle in your pussy.

you hazily smiled back at your boyfriend, still overly sensitive and feeling his every move as diluc proceeded to smoothly drag himself back and forth, back and forth, with the obscene squelching noises outlining your wetness.

"i don't want it to leave you." in the heat of his admittance, he lowered himself in combination of digging his once semi erect cock back into you as much as he could, hungrily capturing your lips.

with this, you could feel him twitch again, pulsating hard while engulfed in your mess covered walls, breathing hitched but his eyes, they told another story, surrounded in a maze of aching impulses.

— ꒰ ALHAITHAM ꒱ + on your face

the delicate hold on your hair alhaitham had when he observed your blubbering expression, eyes dwindling with tears, felt surreal and exhilarating.

he could feel your struggle, always, yet you still had been doing such a good job for him, suckling on his huge cock that was barely able to fit in your mouth, if only you could part them a tiny bit more.

unbidden, your mouth worked on your own, lowly tracing your tongue whenever he was fully settled and prodding your throat while hollowing your cheeks as you went back up, fingers moving lower to outline over his length and balls.

"f-fuck." it was rare for you to hear him speak like this, so uncoordinated and all over the place.

"you're so- so fucking good at this, you know that? of course you do."

the heat had coiled in him, his loins were thoroughly on fire and stagnating with every lap of you. You clawed onto his muscular thighs and ridged through his tight pants, holding him as bear as possibly.

"close." his palms suddenly burned into your head, "yo-you're gonna make me cum."

how pretty his little angel was with your cute mouth, sugary sweet lips and archons, your sounds, noises without words and he not only heard them, no, he also felt them on his stiff length, vibrating through his thin skin.

the fluidity in your movements was turning easier the more of his pre and your spit was gathered in your mouth. Alhaitham stirred and growled lowly, shifting you back and forth on his unbreakable grasp as he began to rut himself deeper, faster.

in this, you closed your eyes to focus on your breathing, flaring your nostrils just a bit to get enough air through you. You were already haze minded, your vision blurring a faint white but then he abruptly widened the space to pull himself out of your messy wetness.

alhaitham spiraled his cock in between the little tunnel he shaped with his hand, feverishly jerking himself in front of you as you breathed out of your mouth, every inch of energy exiting your state.

"there you go baby." he suddenly coos, you knew what he meant, immediately prodding your tongue out to catch as much of his gift as you could.

those words alone were the only form of warning you had gotten when his white milk splurged in thick ribbons on top of you, messily coating your mouth, cheeks and tongue.

despite the abruptness of it all, you moaned at the warm stir, slicked up when he dragged his wet tip over the mess, spreading it further on your skin.

alhaitham was smirking at you, how could he not? the way he scanned your face, so unbelievably sexy, eager to feel your warm mouth again.

— ꒰ KAZUHA ꒱ + on your stomach

the mattress shifted of kazuha's body retracting himself further, gathering your legs to push against you, feeling his swollen tip probe between your squishy folds.

he fit his head into your hole again, driving himself inside and filling you up, a groan rumbling in his tensed up chest.

"ah- you feel so warm." no further, he moaned into your neck, lowering himself to nibble on your sensitive skin while grinding his hips forward.

"let me- let me taste you after this." he spoke without an inch of shame, sometimes you wondered if he was even aware on just how riled up you could become from his words and manners of speech alone.

kazuha twisted his arms over your shuddering body to keep you close as you did the same, wrapping them around his waist while digging your nails into his back.

his skin was warm and sticking against yours, his warm cheeks flushed with a yearning urge to finally climax, sharply indrawing his breath to fuck your brains out, breasts bouncing at every rut as he caught one in his hand, fondling the bundle.

your moans deepened the coil within him, your hands working over his straining, wet skin as low profanities left your lips. Kazuha imagined this all day, dreaming how you guzzled and sucked him dry, how you made him cum violently until he was nothing more than a shivering mess.

with his last couple of thrusts he could feel the twist in his stomach unwind, just in time he managed to pull himself out as he hastily trailed himself into his hand, already clumsily spilling out thick globules of his cum on your lower stomach.

you're crying at the warmness and liquid, kazuha always came a lot when he reached his climax, but this time it splotted up to your chest with him greedily smearing it over your stomach up to your breasts, flicking his cock head over your sore nipples.

— ꒰ SCARAMOUCHE ꒱ + on your cunt

for scaramouche, the more soiled and dirty the bedsheets, not to mention you, would become after he fucked you silly, the more he enjoyed the whole process of making love to you.

there's no point in fucking you otherwise, he wanted you to be smudged and tarnished with his white seed, wanted to paint you nastily and memorize it in his filthy mind forever, maybe jerk himself off to the memory of it all later.

"fuck- fuck you're so fucking tight, fuck!"

he lowered his body to sloppily kiss you, moaning dirty words into your mouth while jolting his cock past the tight muscles of your cunt, angrily rutting his length in.

he claimed you, all of you, and you surrendered, truly, giving yourself to him in your glory. Scaramouche knew how to use you, how to leave you begging for him and drooling over his throbbing cock.

he stiffened a groan on your lips, dragging the wet tip of his tongue over your mouth, "i'm so fucking close."

the smacks of your body only elicited you to cry out again, your throat straining and on fire from archons knows how many times you had spilled his name from your lips.

his scent and smell was washing all over you, It was all you could perceive and bath in, not that you were complaining that is, it had you weak on your muscles, your mind on the brink of turning off as another blow of his hips came, this time rougher, but also needier.

"please- kuni please." you're mewling, sobbing with his thrusts growing erratic, swift but so outlandishly hard, it tickled all the pulsating spots in your messy cunt.

"i'm going to ruin you." he's whispering, his voice sweeter against your lips, capturing his mouth as you moaned into him, the last pumps of his cock pushing you past the edge as he messily dragged himself out, releasing and coating your mushy folds.

scaramouche dragged his cock head in between your flesh, overturning your pussy with his hefty seed and making sure to plaster it all together, watching it stick onto one another.

he's smirking now, "f-fuck, that's what I'm talking about, dear." his teeth scraping over his lower lip to muffle a groan, again pressing his tip in your fluttering hole to tease you just a bit, each drop of his cum doubling on each stroke.

— ꒰ CHILDE ꒱ + on your ass

childe quickly dragged a fluffy pillow under your hips to have your ass all prettily perked up, roughly squeezing and fondling on your precious flesh.

fuck, he loved you, adored you, all of you and how fucking cute your pussy looked squished in between your mushy ass, he needed to bury himself back into you again.

"fuck baby, keep taking me like that." he's smirking, splaying his large palms over your skin to mercilessly plunge into your pretty pussy.

he's melting, ajax felt you flutter and clench down on him, grab him and impatiently swallow him all in. The precise rolls of his hips were intoxicating and undeniably punctuated, as if he knew which exact spots to tackle.

the sound of bodies colliding onto each other crowned in midst the insufferable hot air in your room, childe's half lidded, piercing gaze digging daggers into your backside.

he's quick to lay himself flat on your back, soft pants soothing your sweat covered neck when he abruptly bit down, his solid length straining the most delicate muscles within your walls as you curled on him, crying his name in a sobbing chorus.

"one more baby." he's hooking his fingers around your neck, "one fu-fuck— one more and I'm done baby." his tongue was smoothing down on your shoulder, roughly licking as he kept his messy pace, your slick thoroughly covering his pelvis.

you melt into the soft cushions, tangling into his arms as you perceived a sudden shudder from him, his pleasure washing down on his entire body in an instant.

your cunt twisted and constricted his movements, your sniffles nothing more than an undertone as he jerked himself back, planting his filth on top of your ass and squeezing his toe curling load in between your flesh.

ajax was never satisfied, he continued to watch his milk dribble down your ass to your thighs, observe how your figure shuddered under his broad body, clawing onto the pillows while wiggling your ass back to him.

he's coy, breathlessly laughing and planting his cock in between your buttocks, "you're so fucking hot, you know that?"

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7ndipity · 5 months

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“Just a Joke”

Jungkook x Reader

Summary: Jungkook decides to teach you a lesson when you poke at his jealous nerves one too many times. An expansion of this reaction post.

Word Count: 1.0k

Warnings: +18 mdni, smut, fingering(f. receiving) possessive Jungkook, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! I know you said to add a lil spice, but I may have gotten a bit carried away and spilled half a jar of chilis in this, sorry(Or not? Idk). I tried to balance it out w some fluff. (Also lol, of course Jk’s first smut piece on this blog would end up being about his possessive streak(let’s all act surprised, just for fun))

Masterlist

Requests are open

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Jungkook had been laughing to himself for the better part of ten minutes over the Dispatch article that one of the other members had sent, discussing your supposed romance with his bandmate.

He’d give them credit, you had been on a date that day, they’d gotten that much right, but it’d been with him, and you’d just happened to bump into Jin at the restaurant. But, due to the angle of the pictures that they’d snapped through the window, Jungkook hadn’t been visible, leaving those who were curious or bored enough to speculate what was going on with you and the eldest member of his group.

“As if you would date Jin!” He chuckled.

“I mean, it’s not that crazy, he is pretty handsome.” You finally said, trying to hide the smirk that was pulling at the corner of your mouth.

You knew how easy it was to set off Jungkook’s jealous nature, you’d done it enough times, both purposefully and accidentally, to have it down to a system, one that sometimes resulted in you not being able to walk properly the next day, but sometimes that was what you wanted, it was too fun to tease him to resist.

His expression dropped at your words, staring at you blankly for a moment before turning on his heel and walking out the room.

“Kook, it was just a joke!” You called, trying to catch up with him. “Kook, I was kidding!”

As you entered the bedroom, you stopped short, glancing around in confusion as you found it empty.

“Koo- Agh!” You let out a small shriek of surprise as Jungkook slipped out from behind the door, catching you around the waist and spinning you around til your back made contact with the wall, one of his hands coming up to protect your head from hitting as he eyed you darkly, a mischievous gleam in his eye.

“You think you’re funny?” He growled, pressing himself against your front. “You think it’s funny to tease me like that?”

He leaned in, letting his lips just graze yours before trailing to the side, coming to rest against the shell of your ear.

“Maybe I should remind you who it is that you belong to?” He whispered, the cool metal of his lip rings a stark contrast to his hot breath, making you shiver in anticipation.

“Koo.” You tried to say, but he moved back to claim your lips with his own, rough hands groping every inch that he could reach as his tongue explored into your mouth, swallowing your whimpers as you clung to him.

Snaking a hand down the front of your pants, he chuckled against your lips as he felt the growing damp patch on your panties.

“Does Jin make you this wet?” He asked, cocking his head to the side as he watched you squirm under his touch.

“No.” You shook your head.

“Who does then, hmm?” He questioned, hooded eyes never leaving yours.

“You, only you, Koo.” You said shakily.

“Very good.” He gripped your waist again, pushing you back on the bed before ridding you of your bottoms and exposing your cunt to the cool air of the room.

“Fuck, look at you.” He breathed, slipping a single finger into your wet heat, making you let out a soft whine.

“Could Jin make you feel this good?” He asked, adding another finger as he began to set a steady pace.

You shook your head, earning a smack to your thigh from his free hand.

“Words Baby, wanna hear you.” He huffed. “Who makes you feel good?”

“Agh! Jungkook!” You moaned as he curled his fingers, repeatedly hitting your sweet spot.

“That’s right, Love.” He panted, sounding almost as gone as you were, pounding his fingers into you at a rapid pace, the wet sounds so lewd it made your cheeks burn.

“Koo, please.” You gasped, feeling your high threatening to overtake you.

“Let go, Love, it’s okay. Give it to me.” He said, speeding up his movements to push you over the edge.

You let out a weak cry of his name as your high crashed over you, shaking in his hold as he continued to work you through it.

His movements gradually slowed to a stop as you came down, chest heaving and twitching slightly from sensitivity. He moved to rest next to you on the bed, using his clean hand to caress your face tenderly.

“Are you alright, Love? Was that too much?” He asked gently, looking at you now with nothing but love and concern.

You shook your head. “No, that was- that was good.” You panted.

He chuckled, stroking your arm softly as you caught your breath. “Do you need me to do anything?”

“Can you hold me?”

He found it both endearing and heartbreaking at the same time that you still asked so shyly after all this time, as if his answer was uncertain, as if he would ever deny you anything.

“Of course.” He carefully wrapped his arms around you, letting your head rest against his chest as he rubbed soothing circles on your back. For several minutes, neither of you spoke, not feeling the need to fill the space with pointless words.

When he finally did speak, Jungkook’s voice was soft, not wanting to shatter the tranquility of the moment.

“I’m sorry if I got carried away.” He said.

“You didn’t...” You whispered. “I’m sorry I teased you.”

“No, you’re not.” He snorted, making you both burst into quiet laughter. “We both know how much you like winding me up.”

“Like you don’t do it too.” You countered, shifting to look up at him as he leaned down to press a kiss to your head.

“Just so long as you know that I am just teasing.” You said, turning serious, running your hand through his hair. “You know you’re the only one I’ll ever want.”

“I know.” He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes.

“I love you so much.” He whispered.

“I love you too.” You leaned up, brushing your lips against his in the faintest of kisses. “My sweet boy.”

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup

#jungkook smut #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagine #jungkook oneshot #jungkook drabble #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts requests #bts one shot #bts drabble #bts x y/n #bts x reader #7ndipity

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alliddewrites · 11 months

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Simon 'Ghost' Riley Breeding Kink Headcanons

Content disclaimer:

Smut,

Breeding Kink,

Unprotected sex,

Aftercare,

Fantasy logic in some places,

Female Reader

Masterlist

Reader discretion advised. You're responsible for your own media consumption.

A primal part inside of Simon wants to breed you so badly. At first he's not 100% sure about it, but after finding out you're also into it, he's so reassured that there's no going back.

It's not only the pregnancy part that excites him, possessiveness also plays into it. He feels like he's claiming you while breeding you, making all of you his, and his alone.

Has a long conversation with you about it before getting into it however, to make sure both of you want this. The best part might be the process, but the results have to be agreed upon.

Promises to be there for you every moment you need when you've finally conceived a baby. He knows it's a huge responsibility, even if he enjoys pumping you full of his fertile cum, he's going to be there all the way after the funnest part is done.

Saves up his cum for a couple of days for the first session so he can pump you so full of it that you're leaking for hours.

He can't wait for you to bear his children. Stomach becoming more and more bloated with his baby, tits growing larger and fuller with warm milk.

Prepares you beforehand by going down on you. Sucking on your clit while fucking your wet, quivering cunt with two of his huge fingers, stretching you out nicely. If you don't cum at least twice, he thinks he's not doing things right. Orgasms help with conceiving after all, so he not only gets to pleasure you, but it also heightens the chance of his seed taking.

Gets rock hard just by thinking about cumming inside of you, getting you pregnant. Thick, long cock throbbing, impatiently waiting to be inside of your tight pussy. Tip red, dripping plenty of precum. Balls heavy, full of his hot, virile cream, waiting to fill you up.

Starts calling you mommy and baby momma teasingly from now on. Really wants to drive the point home.

Mating press. Puts you in that position every session at least once. It's his favorite. Perfect angle to hit the most pleasurable spots inside of you. It also enables him to go balls deep, angry tip kissing your cervix and his tight balls smacking against your ass at every thrust. Just loves absolutely pounding you into the mattress, thrusting so hard you start drooling and tearing up.

Another favorite of his is when you're riding him. This is usually the first position when you start. He gets to hold your hips and watch his dick disappear inside your warm, wet cunt while your tits are bouncing right in front of his face. Sucking on your breasts every once in a while, don't worry, he didn't forget about them. When you get tired, he doesn't change positions, he just lifts you up by the waist and thrusts up into you roughly, basically manhandling you.

Loves watching the ecstasy on your face from what he's doing to you. Can't get enough of it.

He can go a bit too hard, pelvis roughly snapping against yours, but never to the point of hurting you. He could never do that.

Cannot go just one round with you. He has to make sure all of his semen is emptied out inside of you and one round is just not enough for that.

Don't hold back the noises you make, he adores hearing them, gives him more encouragement to keep going harder.

Loves hearing you beg for his fertile cum. He will make you beg for it at the beginning. Makes him reach his climax faster. "You want my cum inside of you? You want me to fill you up? Beg for it."

Keeps going until he's all tuckered out and shooting blanks, balls empty. Even if you're tired, completely cock drunk and you think you can't go any longer, he knows you can. He has to go as long as he can for the highest probability of impregnating you, and you just have to take it. "You're a good momma, yeah? You can take it"

Goes as deep as he can when he's cumming. His girthy cock throbbing inside your tight pussy while his balls are squished up against your pelvis, pumping all he has to give deep inside your womb.

Makes the prettiest, deepest moans and groans when he finishes. He can't hold his noises in sometimes, especially if you encourage him to let his voice out.

Keeps himself inside your overflowing hole for a bit after he cums. When he pulls out, he's enamored by his hot, steamy load dripping out of you, making an even bigger mess of the sheets underneath you. After he's done admiring you, he will push all the thick cum he can back inside. "Can't waste all the precious semen now, can we luv?"

He knows it doesn't do much, but he still puts a pillow under your hips so that part of you is higher up. He likes to think it helps his seed go deeper inside of you for a higher chance for pregnancy.

After checking whether you're okay or not and nothing hurts, he brings you some water so you're not dehydrated. He doesn't want you to strain yourself.

Either he gives you a bath, cleaning you up nicely or he wipes you down with a soft rag gently if you're too tired to move, all the while still making sure most of his essence is kept inside of you.

After you're completely taken care of, he lays you back down on your back onto the bed after changing the damp, ruined sheets. Lays down next to you on his side, caressing your cum filled tummy gently, whispering into your ear. "You'll be such a good mother. We'll make the cutest babies."

The demons took over-

I'm sorry if there are any grammar mistakes.

#my writing #reader insert #x reader #x female reader #x fem!reader #cod #call of duty #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #cod x reader #call of duty x reader

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chrollohearttags · 1 year

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high eren is always more aggressive in bed and y/n acting out for him? ten times worse. yeah he’s been cooped up in his studio for two days without paying his wife’s neediness any mind but a fat blunt and her attitude will definitely do the trick

yep, that’ll do it 😩 y’all know I love me some mean eren.

cw: rough sex, eren is so mean omg :( weed use, choking, degradation and name calling, HEAVY breeding, some other things, porn w no plot and we getting straight into it 🤭

“..’Rennnn, slow downnn..fuck!” (Y/N)’s whiny breath exclaimed in a choked out moan. It was all you could even manage or muster at the moment, considering your husband was currently fucking you absolutely senseless! You had no idea what had incited this change in him but you were certain it could only be deduced to him being holed up in his workspace for forty eight hours, trying to complete an important deadline and you making it no better by being a brat. Annoying him every hour to come spend time with you and then giving him the silent treatment when it was too late. He was stressed..in need of an outlet and your little pussy seemed like the perfect source. Hence why he had you folded up on the couch, ass in the air as he hit you from the back..

“Shut the fuck up and take this dick…doing all this begging for it, now you wanna stop?” you had never heard your sweet Eren be so mean. But that’s how he was when he was not only in extreme duress but intoxicated! A firm hand planted to the center of your spine, the other pulling at your hair and an ignited blunt pursed between his pouty pink lips. His green eyes glossed over in a haze of euphoria from the potent weed and the ripple of your thick ass driving him insane. He didn’t care about your tears, how many times you claimed to not be able to come anymore or if you clawed the damn cotton from the sofa…this body was his until he couldn’t bust another nut! So he’d hopelessly thrust his hips forward, digging you out with this massive dick…letting the throbbing tip peck your g-spot and beyond with each stroke. Just then, you felt his hand collide with your asscheek once more and it was much harder than the last slap! Not to mention, a palm suddenly snaking around your throat! “And I told you to keep that back arched, didn’t I? What, you can’t fucking listen now? Or do you only hear what you want to?” Even still, it excited you a little..

taking you right there in the living room because he couldn’t even be bothered to carry you to the bed. Talking to you like nothing more than a toy…it brought out a feeling you never knew you liked. That much apparent by the way that tight cunt clamped around him each time he spat at you or called you out of your name..maybe you’d anger him more often! Mounted like a wild animal in heat, (y/n) would feel the strands of his long hair tickling your shoulder blade; tingling in several places as he hissed in your ear. “Mmm…I’m sorry, daddy. You’re just fucking me so g-good..I can’t help it.. ‘s too deep..” crying out with tear stained eyes and a trembling lip that done nothing more than make your man laugh and taunt you. “Awww, my little slut can’t take anymore?..can’t handle it, yeah?” His words like venom seeping through your veins and making your spine tingle. But before you could answer, he’d rut his hips even harder, completely planked atop you with his hand cupping the back of your neck to keep you pinned down. Feeling each deep thrust in the pit of your stomach. Along with the sloshing of him fucking his own seed out of you. “Then next time you’ll act like you have some goddamn sense and stop testing me..” muttering out of frustration with the rhythm of his pounding becoming much faster and your cries growing louder in return. Chocolate eyes trailing to the back of your skull as a result. “Baby…pleaseeee.” This man is going crazy…making you see stars and regret all of your bitching. When you felt him slow to sporadic strokes and hear the huffs heaving from his barreled chest, you knew he was close yet again. It’d be a matter of time before he stuffed you with more of that creamy mixture. Only furthering the mess of your previous orgasms below. Having already two knots prior..

“I swear you piss me off sometimes but this pussy feels so good, baby…fuck!” Drawing out in a long, whiny breath whilst he drilled further. Your legs had become all but useless by this point..causing (y/n) to collapse into the cushions, smothering your face into the pillows. Unable to silence you entirely or muffle the sounds of you begging to come and for him to do the same. In his mind, he wanted to keep going..relentlessly fucking the shit out of you all night until you learned your lesson. However, it wasn’t realistic, seeing as how you were tightening around his shaft. He didn’t have to tell you what to do, hell, he never did because you responded to his body on instinct..completely bound to him and instead, you’d both fall into those climaxes as one. “Shit….right there. Come on that dick, bitch..you can give me one more..” Fading into bliss as you hit your peak again. Your breath hitching in your chest and windpipe, making you gasp once you came back to..normally, he’d be rather attentive to your needs, making sure you were okay before going any further. However, your husband wasn’t bothering to be so kind tonight. It didn’t mean he loved you any less because he couldn’t even if he tried but your sassiness and this substance had awoken a different side of him. So the second you slathered him in your silky cream, he filled your fertile little womb more of his own seed. That swollen, battered pussy probably unable to house another droplet of his cum. He didn’t pull out right away though..he’d allow it to sink into you until he no longer could stay in it. Slapping that length between your bubbly cheeks and caressing your back as he chuckled. “I’m sorry, princess. I didn’t mean to be so rough with you..just really stressed out but you did so good f’r me.” His praise being all but worth it. Seeming that whatever spell that had overcome him was lifted and he was back to his normal, sweet, doting self..but it did instill something in your brain..a lesson that you’d never forget:

make him mad more often!

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borbygorlinbbqworld · 22 days

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What about a story where the woman in question has been taking supplements to try and enhance her size and ends up with chests much fuller than she planned on? Maybe the overdose leads to permanent effects...

🐮❤️ Excellent.

---

Putting down the measuring tape, Alice wanted to scream.

After a rather irresponsibly expensive purchase, she was already a little embarrassed. 'See results in as little as hours!' the pills had claimed.

But even after a week of steady treatment, her tiny beestings had remained the same. She hadn't expected a miracle, but part of her had at least hoped her boobs would look even a little fuller than they were.

She eyed the bottle. "One a day only, huh? Yeah, fuck you, worthless junk." Fuming, she tossed back the rest of the pills in a last ditch effort.

And waited.

And waaaaiiited...

Nothing.

Her cheeks flushed with shame. She had been so duped! Grabbing the box the pill bottle had come in, she noticed a small slip of paper.

"'Warning: only take one pill per day.'" She rolled her eyes. "Useless..."

But there was another line that caught he attention.

"User must take pills with milk for them to be effective."

Oh.

A small flutter of hope rang out in her heart. Jogging to the kitchen, she brought the whole carton with her back to the bathroom mirror.

Her bralette--which was all she currently needed, having such tiny breasts--would be a good way to determine just how big (or not) they would get. With a deep breath of courage, she took a massive few gulps of milk.

A sudden feeling of warmth spread through her chest, followed by a bit of tightness. Gleefully, she noticed a small curve of tissue she hadn't had before.

They did work!

The feeling continued, working its way to her nipples. Tiny pressure points went off, puffing out her areolas as her breasts continued to grow.

She admired how cute her bralette looked on her now; if she had to guess, she was at least a B cup now, maybe even a C!

Thank god for reading the instructions fully... she had to laugh at herself as she brought the milk carton back to the fridge. Why hasn't she just read everything in the first place? All the worry would have been saved if she had just--

Just as she reached up to put the milk on the fridge shelf, she heard a snap.

Looking down, her bare breasts blocked her ability to see her feet. Were they still growing?

In the process of closing the fridge, she accidentally hit the side of her new, fuller breast. It sent a shockwave of both pain and arousal through it.

She reached her hands up to grab them, and her fingers sunk into her flesh. Each knead felt like ecstacy, as her pink nipples hardened with pleasure. Her breasts felt enormous in her hands, and were only getting heavier.

Letting them drop from her hands, she lurched forward from their increasing weight, watching as they jiggled and sloshed around for what felt like ages from the movement.

'One a day.'

Maybe downing the whole bottle had been a bad idea...

...or maybe not. Despite them being a breast enhancement pill, she couldn't help but notice how every swell made her clitorus ache with desire.

She waddled back to the bathroom, trying to contain moans as her full breasts swayed from her strides.

Before the mirror, she could see even more of the changes the pills had made.

Though she had managed to fit through the narrow doorway coming in, she doubted it would be the case for much longer.

Her pink nipples had swollen to the size of fat, juicy cherries, and they hung down at her belly button. Blue veins had spread their way across her massive round mammaries, making her look like an engorged porn star.

They weren't stopping any time soon, either. The growth strained her back, so she hoisted her breasts into the sink for support as they continued to swell and feel tight.

How could they feel so damn tight when she wasn't even wearing anything? How did her breasts feel so full?

By the time the swelling stopped, her areolas were now swollen to the size of apples, puffed and plump. Without anywhere else to go, her nipples were pressed against the bathroom mirror; her breasts were now so full, she couldn't move or turn around. If it weren't for resting them in the sink, Alice knew she would have fallen over.

Despite the growth having stopped though, the arousing sensation hadn't. Her clit begged her for attention, but her breasts screamed louder.

She gently rubbed her hands against the sides of her new massive breasts--god only knew, her arms weren't long enough to reach those nipples--before applying a bit more pressure and squeezing.

Right away, she knew that's what she needed. Working her breasts, she continued to rub and squeeze, not bothering to contain the moans that escaped her. Her breasts started swelling again, making the sink groan under their weight.

Twisting from side to side, she realized she could finally arouse her nipples as they rubbed against the mirror, sloshing her fat breasts as they felt and got fuller and fuller.

Finally, it happened.

Her hard nipples were forcibly bent against the mirror as the expansion left no room elsewhere, but they leaked rivers of milk that spilled over her expanse. It trailed the thick blue veins of her swollen breasts and wetted her stomach, her feet.

Despite the leak, she felt so goddamn full of milk, yet she couldn't reach her aching nipples to do anything about it herself.

She felt around her jeans pocket, noticing the fabric had managed to get wet somehow too.

As she dialed her boyfriend, her breasts continued to swell against the shower wall and making the floor wet with an inch of milk.

"Hello?"

"I need you home, now!"

"Is everything okay, are you hurt?!"

Alice shook her head no, which only teased her sensitive nipples and made more milk squirt out. She couldn't stifle the loan moan of arousal that escaped her lips. "No, but I need you to come home and suck my tits... I'm begging you..."

It was all he needed to hear. His playful chuckle made her clit throb. "I'll be right there, babe."

Just as he hung up, the sink collapsed. She lurched forward under the massive weight of her engorged mammaries, too horny to be bothered.

She needed to be milked, and soon!

---

🐮❤️

#breast expansion #lactation kink tw #tw lactation kink #massive breasts #smut #huge natural melons #huge cleavage #mommy milkers #writing

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dreadsuitsamus · 7 months

Note

Hey Ellie! I hope you’re doing good! May I please request sfw prompts #39 and #13 with Vegeta? I got hit with the mood of wanting something soft with Vegeta out of nowhere.

Slow | Vegeta x Reader |

#13- "I didn't think it was possible to love someone this much."

#39- "Why are you scared of loving?"

author's note: something soft with vegeta? sign me the hell up 🫡🫡 this is also (i believe) the second to last request i have remaining from the prompt lists requests, since i lost the lists 🫠

pairing: vegeta x fem!reader

warnings: brief mentions of canon typical violence and death, no dialogue

Stargazing with Vegeta wasn't a new pastime of yours, but it's always somehow felt so special to sit with your prince in the darkened silence, watching the twinkles above you with no one around to interrupt. It's been a long time of this, with plenty lost along the way, but time and time again you've proven your strength to match up to his and that's why you've remained his second for so long.

You find that your eyes keep slipping to look at him rather than the dipper before you, however.

Oh, how he's changed after all this time. He used to be horrific, cruel even for a Saiyan. He was even unbothered by Frieza's annihilation of your home planet! And now he's at ease, though not without an occasional princely tantrum every now and then. Having his ass absolutely handed to him on Earth ended up yielding results you never could have seen coming; perhaps his death on Namek played the biggest role in his changing ways.

Though it was temporary and will continue to be should he perish again, you'll never quite recover from the scars his death left on you.

Vegeta shifts just a tad, his arm brushing against yours as you both lean on the large rock. It's wide and tall, slanted and perfect for gazing at the stars or clouds alike. It's as if destiny curated this spot just for you and your Prince of all Saiyans— you've never once seen or sensed another soul here.

Goosebumps cover your skin at the vague touch. He's attractive, no doubt, and you've seen him damn near naked more than once and vice versa, but the proximity is a thousand times more intimate and only ever occurs here. Any other time, without this setting, you and Vegeta are both highly prone to distance from the world and each other.

You're certainly best friends, having lived through what feels like three separate lifetimes together. And at one point, it seemed this barrier had the potential to lift. Post-Namek, things were… Gentler. Vegeta had hugged you for the first time, and you remember it more fondly than you'd like to.

There's a solid few taps on the door to the bedroom Bulma's given you, and you don't need to recognize the strength behind it to know it's Vegeta. It's late, well past midnight even, and perhaps he's also finding it hard to sleep on the too-soft bed. You can hardly stand to even sit on it, though you've been seated at the end of it ever since the shower you took in the extravagant bathroom connected to your new bedroom.

"Come in."

He enters quietly, not even a word spoken as he crosses the room to join you. The bed dips as he takes his place to your left, and together you stare at the carpet. This place is much different from Planet Vegeta, of which your memories hold an unfavorable fog, or any Frieza Station. There's no tyrant to obey, no missions to fulfill… The world is yours to claim on terms you get to create, for the first time in your thirty years of life.

Will you and Vegeta have those same terms, though? Or for the first time in both of your lives, will you navigate entirely alone?

Vegeta's arm moves around your shoulders, tugging you close enough for him to rest his cheek atop your head, and your lips curl just a bit for the first time in quite a while.

A breeze rolls through and you shiver despite your hot-blooded Saiyan nature. Unbothered by the chill himself, Vegeta tugs off the jacket he's wearing and drapes it over your shoulders. Wearing a small smile, you give his arm a gentle pat.

You find it difficult to believe the man before you is the man you once knew— though he can probably say the same about you. You were his favorite warrior, slitting throats and tearing things apart with your bare hands right alongside him, and now you care for the son he had out of wedlock with Bulma as if the boy was your own.

Vegeta being a father in itself has been hard to believe at times. But just as he's grown as a man, his fatherhood journey has been complex and constantly changing too. In the beginning he chose not to acknowledge the child at all, not until you swiftly nipped it in the bud at least, though one thing you absolutely could not (and wouldn't dream of attempting to) change was his lack of commitment to Bulma herself. Truthfully, it's probably for the best that they co-parent rather than cohabitate as husband and wife.

She's got it all, though. Money, beauty and fame, his firstborn child even. Why he hesitates, you may just never know.

Looking away from the sky and in the face of the man that's already looking at you, his normally sharp features softer than usual and illuminated by the stars and dwindling fire you lit hours ago. You're left to simply stare and wonder as far as your mind can take you.

Why are you scared of loving, Prince? You think to yourself as Vegeta's knuckles brush against you lightly in his effort to adjust his jacket over you properly.

To himself, Vegeta muses something he may never gain the ability to say aloud.

I didn't think it was possible to love someone this much.

#vegeta x you #vegeta x reader #vegeta imagine #x reader #reader insert #dbz imagine #fic #prompt list request #taura🩷

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queen-of-deans-booty · 8 months

Text

Don't Let It Go

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Teenage!Reader, Implied Destiel

Word Count: ~1.4k

Warnings: angst, minor fluff at the end

Request by anon: Hey can i request, a one shot where the Winchester and Castiel find a girl (who is 16-17 years) in the middle of the street and they take her to the bunker and they wait to the girl (reader) to wake up and when she wake up , she tell that her is from other universe where she is Dean and Castiel daughter and she is angel/demon hybrid because she was born after Dean became a Demon and was raised by Sam? Something Fluff

Summary: You got into a place you weren't supposed to go into and as a result, you got put in a different universe where everything is the same except your parents.

Square Filled: unconventional hybrids (2023) for @heavenandhellbingo

Author’s Note: i appreciate any and all comments! <3

Inside the Impala is quiet, silent except for the soft rock playing softly through the speakers. All three men have just come back from a grueling hunt and all they want is to go home, drink some alcohol, and sleep for a day. Sam wanted to stop to get some rest in a motel room before taking the long drive home but Dean had his head set on arriving home as soon as possible. He’s growing kind of tired, it’s pitch black on the road, and he’s passing the double yellow line too often for Sam’s liking.

“Do you want me to drive?”

“No, I got it,” Dean shakes his head to keep him awake.

He drives for a few more miles until he sees something in the middle of the road. It’s not until he comes within twenty feet of it does he see it’s a body.

“Dean, watch out!” Cas gasps.

Dean swerves the car right before he can hit the body, and he slams on his brakes a few yards away from it. All three men step out and run over to it to see who it could be. It’s a teenage girl who doesn’t look to have any injuries. Castiel kneels down and places two fingers on your forehead to check for internal injuries but everything checks out fine.

“She’s knocked out with no injuries. I don’t know who put her here.”

“We can’t just leave her here,” Sam says.

“Bring her with us. We can do more at the Bunker,” Dean decides.

Since there are no other people here to claim you, Sam scoops you into his arms and places you into the backseat of the Impala. When they arrive home, they place you in the infirmary. Castiel is able to do more extensive tests on you to check who you are, where you came from, and what you could possibly want.

“I know everyone on Earth but I don’t know her name.” He hovers his glowing hands over your entire body to get a feel of what you might be. “This is so weird. There is magic within her but not like witch magic, like angel magic.”

“She’s an angel?”

“Not fully. There is angel magic but not enough to be a full angel. I know all angels, and I don’t recognize her at all.”

“We have to wait for her to wake up… if she does,” Sam says.

It takes three more hours for you to wake up and when you do, you stare at the three men still inside the room. You’re in some kind of infirmary inside the Bunker but something is different. This doesn’t feel like the Bunker you know. For one, Sam is with Dean and Castiel and Sam hasn’t been on good terms with them for years now.

“Am I in trouble?” you sigh and sit up.

“What?”

“Come on. Lay it on me. Yell, scream, or do whatever you need to do.”

“What are you talking about?” Dean asks.

“Very funny, Dad. Just get it over with.”

“Dad? Who the hell are you?”

This isn’t your world. This isn’t your Bunker. This isn’t your dad. Dean and Castiel don’t recognize you at all.

“What planet am I on?”

“Earth…?”

“Why is everything different?”

“What happened to you?” Castiel asks.

“I was gathering ingredients in the garden for the spell I was creating, but I saw something gold shimmer. When I touched it, everything went black. I woke up here.”

“She must have touched a portal. She’s from another universe.”

“I’m in another universe? Oh, my dads are gonna kill me,” you groan and put your head in your hands.

“I’m your dad?” Dean asks. You nod. “Who else is?”

“Him,” you say and point to Castiel.

“We’re both your dads?”

“Yes.”

Castiel stiffens awkwardly, Dean looks at him with a weird look on his face, and Sam just laughs.

“So, Destiel is real, then?”

“Shut the hell up,” Dean snaps.

“What’s that magic inside of you? I don’t recognize it.”

“You wouldn’t. I come from a world where people are born from DNA testing in a lab. If a woman and a man want to have a baby, they get to choose the gender they want by the doctor pulling DNA strands from their bodies and making that baby in a lab. If two women want to have a child, then their baby must be a boy to counteract the X chromosomes. The same thing goes for two men. They must have a daughter. Well, strands were taken from Dean and Castiel to make me, but Dean is a demon and Castiel is an angel. I’m half-demon, half-angel.”

“You’re a Nephalem?”

“Is that what Jack is?” Dean asks.

“No, he’s a Nephilim which is only half-angel,” you explain. “I have the grace of an angel, the blood of a demon, and a human soul to counteract the two powers. I’m kind of a big deal in my universe. I’m the most powerful creature, but I kind of fucked up.”

“How so?” Sam asks.

“In my world, the forbidden Garden of Eden is a real place that people can visit. I am forbidden to go in there due to my demonic heritage. The Garden is sacred to angels only, so I kind of snuck in for the ingredients I need for my spell. That’s when I got caught in that portal. My dads are gonna kill me,” you groan. “They’ll slaughter anything to get to me, and when they find out I’m missing, there’s no telling what they’ll do. I have to get back.”

“We’ll be right back. Just stay here.”

All three men leave the infirmary to talk in the hallway.

“A daughter of Heaven and Hell is far more powerful than anything in the entire universe, surpassing God and Jack themselves. She’s not at full power because she’s a teenager, but she can destroy the universe with just a thought. If you two make her upset or stressed, her powers can go haywire,” Castiel warns.

“What the hell are we gonna do?” Sam asks.

“We have to create a portal back to her world and get her back as soon as possible so she doesn't destroy everything in ours.”

Dean peeks inside the room to see you with tears running down your cheeks.

“Why don’t you two get started on that? Let me talk to her alone.”

Dean walks into the room alone and approaches you slowly. You wipe your tears away when he sits next to you on the bed.

“I’m not sure how to do this,” Dean starts.

“I’m really sorry,” you sniffle. “I didn’t mean to break the rules.”

“Listen, I don’t know how ‘Other Me’ or ‘Other Cas’ deals with shit over there, but you’re a kid. You didn’t know any better.”

“I do, though. I have a choice to make when I turn eighteen. Choose to be with the angels or demons. If I choose to side with the angels then I’m an enemy of Hell. If I side with the demons, the angels will hunt me down and kill me. My dads made this perfectly clear and told me to stay out of Eden to prevent people from thinking I sided with the angels. They can be pretty scary. They don’t hit me or abuse me but if I don’t follow the rules, they’ll get scary. God, they’re gonna kill me.”

“If ‘Other Me’ is anything like me, he’ll forgive you. It can’t be easy being an angel and a demon.”

“It’s hard. I’m seventeen, so I have to make the choice in less than a year. I’m not ready. I don’t want to pick a side because that will start a war. Earth would become a fighting ground for demons and angels with me as one of their leaders. I would be forced away from one of my dads.”

“For a demon, you care a lot.”

“I might be a demon but I’m not evil. I have a human soul. I don’t want any of this,” you cry.

“Okay, listen to me. You’re certainly strong and capable of handling things for yourself, but if ‘Other Me’ loves you like you say he does, then he won’t ask you to choose. I don’t care if he is a demon or not. It’s going to be okay.”

You lean up and hug him, catching him off guard.

“Thank you.” He pats your back and you pull away from him. “You know, my dad used to have a soul before finding the First Blade. I’ve heard the stories but nothing compares to seeing him now with one. Your soul is a gift, Dean. Don’t let it go.”

“As long as you don’t let yours go.”

“I promise,” you smile.

“Then I promise, too. Come on, let’s work on getting you home.”

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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raepritewrites · 4 months

Text

The Return

There were some good things that came out of Heather’s metamorphosis, despite it being one of the most painful experiences of her life… which was saying something, because she had experienced being vivisected while fully conscious. She wouldn’t recommend either of those experiences, by the way, a definite zero out of ten.

Still, at least the end results of her body mutating were beneficial. She was more durable than she was previously, her healing factor was a good bit faster, and while the fangs were annoying at times, the paralysis venom they made was infinitely useful. She could feel it collecting like a thick second kind of saliva just above the roof of her mouth throughout the day, which grossed Kurt out to no end when she explained it to him. He had fangs too, but his were for show, or so he claimed with a winning grin.

After a while, she’d figured out that if she concentrated she could use the venom on command. Once she knew how to do that, she started collecting excess venom into glass beakers before transferring it into small darts. Kurt thought it was hilarious the first time he walked in on her standing in the kitchen with the glass precariously gripped between her fangs and bottom teeth as she scrolled Instagram on her phone. When she had enough darts filled, she would load them into some wrist cuffs that Tony had gifted her. It was a lot more hygienic than biting a criminal’s neck. (Seriously, who knew where they had been?)

Another small perk of the venom her body naturally generated? Poisons, knockout gas, and paralysis formulas barely worked on her anymore. Ninety percent of the time, her body could fight off whatever it was, and she’d be up and moving again in twenty minutes tops. She still wasn’t bulletproof, but hey, she’d take what she could get.

Which was why, when the alarm system started blaring in Mount Justice and thick smoke filled her room, she didn’t panic right away even as her vision swam and she found herself collapsing to the floor.

When consciousness returned to her, the alarm was still going off, and she checked her watch. She’d taken a ten minute cat nap thanks to that gas, and she estimated that the old her probably would have been out for hours. She quickly left her quarters, checking on everyone’s rooms as she swung down the hallway. Out like a light, every one of them; even Conner, who was a lot more difficult to knock down than all of them combined. Whoever had hit the mountain knew about them, and that scared her a little.

What scared her more was finding Robin’s quarters empty.

“Shit,” She hissed, crawling along the ceiling as fast as she could, searching for the little bird.

The biggest reason she’d accepted Nightwing’s plea for her to return to the team in a mentor capacity was because of Robin. After Jason had died, they’d all spiraled in their own way, but Bruce was the worse off by far. Nightwing and Batgirl had thrown themselves into team missions, Heather had retreated from the caped life and into her secular work, but Batman… Batman was not doing well. He’d pushed away everyone, even Superman and Dick, and he’d grown reckless and more violent in his cases. Dinah had tried repeatedly to talk with Bruce about the obvious grief he was going through, but it was like talking to a brick wall.

The three of them all blamed themselves for Jason’s death, but Bruce had taken the loss of his son the hardest. He didn’t want to let himself be close to anyone else, and he was having less and less regard for his own life. Something had to change, but she, Dick, Barbara and Alfred were all unable to figure out what.

Then along came Timothy Drake.

Tim knew about them. About all of them. He’d been stalking the bats for at least two years across the rooftops of Gotham, and none of them had noticed, not even Heather. Her only explanation for that was the boy didn’t set off her spider sense. He’d never meant them any harm.

He figured out their identities a long time ago, and the only thing he’d done about it is defend their public personas in online forums and take pictures of the bats as they protected Gotham. It was clear that Jason was Tim’s favorite Robin, most of the pictures were of him. Dick tried very valiantly not to be jealous, but Heather could tell it rankled him a little.

Tim was more than just a fanboy though. He was scary smart. His computer skills rivaled Barbara, Dick, and several members of the League combined. When Tim realized something terrible had happened to Jason, he started keeping closer tabs on Bruce. He saw the dark path Batman was heading down, but unlike them, he had a solution.

And so eleven year old Tim Drake, with the biggest nerves of steel Heather had ever seen in her life, had rang Bruce’s doorbell when he knew he was at home (apparently, the Drakes were Bruce’s closest neighbors?? Who knew?) and had told Bruce in no uncertain terms that he knew he was Batman, he knew he’d lost his Robin, and he needed a new partner so here he was.

Seriously. The kid had blackmailed Batman into giving him the mantle. Heather would have been a little offended - heaven knew Dick was - if she hadn’t been so impressed. Plus, if she was being honest, she’d kind of done the same thing to Spiderman back in the day, even if in the end he’d essentially dumped her into the team and ghosted her from there as much as he could. The point was, who was she to judge?

It was obvious immediately that Tim was more than capable of taking up the title, too. The kid was small, but much like Dick at that age, he was full of surprises. He took to fighting like a fish to water, using a bo staff as his preferred weapon over even wingdings or Dick’s own escrima sticks. He wasn’t like Dick and he wasn’t Jason, that was certain, but that was okay. Tim was his own Robin, and he treated the title with so much respect it was practically religious. He followed Batman’s instructions, but he wasn’t so much of a fanboy that he couldn’t disregard an order if needed, something she could appreciate.

Heather took to the kid pretty quickly, much quicker than Dick had. From the little Tim would say about his parents she had pieced together his homelife situation, and the picture wasn’t great. His parents were… inattentive to say the least. The Drakes seemed more interested in globe trotting and growing their business than being home with their son. While Heather had been able to rely on her mom being home every night, she could still understand how lonely Tim must have been. Growing up in a giant cold mansion alone for weeks at a time… that sounded like a nightmare to her.

After several long talks between herself, Dick and Dinah, her friend had finally come around to the idea of someone else taking on his old moniker. The anger that had initially accompanied Jason ‘stealing’ Robin away had finally melted into a bittersweet feeling for Dick. On the one hand, he was still mad at Bruce for not asking his permission, but he was finally able to admit that Jason had been a worthy successor. Too late to actually tell the boy that in person, but at least now Dick could be a better brother to Tim than he had been to Jason.

When Dick had asked her to return to help the team, but especially Robin, she couldn’t say no. The kid had seen how much Bruce was drowning, and pulled the man back from the deep end. She was grateful to him for that, but he was also just genuinely fun to work with. It helped ease some of the ache that still lingered around Jason’s memory, and made it a little easier every time she visited the manor.

Now, Tim was missing, all the rest of the team were either out on a mission or knocked unconscious, and judging by the static in her earpiece, the comms were down. She’d be damned if she let something happen to that kid on her watch.

She resisted the urge to call out his name as she ran through the mountain, just in case the kid was holed up somewhere hiding from whoever or whatever had done this. She just prayed this wasn’t another Tornado family reunion, that had been a nightmare she never wanted to repeat.

When Heather finally skidded around the corner of the gym, her heart caught in her throat. “Robin!”

The boy wonder was pinned to the wall at the neck by a man wearing combat boots, cargo pants, a leather jacket, and a bright red full face helmet. There were guns sticking out from holsters under the jacket and he was holding a wicked looking knife to Robin’s neck. The boy had clearly already been fighting off his attacker for a while, blood leaking from a cut above his right eyebrow, and while one arm was desperately grasping at the man’s giant hand so he could draw in a full breath, his left arm hung limply at his side.

Scarlet Spider moved on instinct, webbing flinging out to grab the intruder by the back of his jacket and yanking him away from Robin who fell limply to the floor with a cry of pain. The attacker looked up at her as he rolled from the floor back to his feet smoothly, slicing the webbing off of him in one movement. “You should still be asleep, little spider,” his modulated voice sent a shiver down her spine, but only for a moment.

"What can I say? I'm a light sleeper," She snapped, lunging for him.

The man backflipped away, smoother than someone his size should have been able to, then made a wide slash at her with the knife. She jumped back, grabbed his still extended wrist and twisted until the knife clattered to the ground, kicking it well out of reach.

She saw Robin slowly trying to rise to his feet from the corner of her eye and realized he was trying to help. Sweet, brave, dumb boy, he really is a bat, she thought just as the attacker broke out of her hold, kicking her in the chest and sending her flying back. She scrambled to her feet and dove for the attacker as he turned his attention back to Tim.

"Robin, run!" Scarlet Spider snapped, wrapping her arms around the man's thick arms and torso.

"That's right, Robin. Run away like the fraud you are," the man taunted, trying and failing to break her hold on him. "You never had a chance."

"Shut up!" Robin said, but his voice warbled. He leaned against the wall, clutching his clearly dislocated arm and glared at his attacker.

"Poor little replacement just can't cut it," the man continued, planting his feet and flipping Scarlet Spider over his head. She twisted in mid air to land her feet, skidding back on the concrete for a few seconds before resuming her fight stance.

"Leave him alone!" She demanded. Every big sister instinct she had was screaming at her to get Tim out of there. "Pick on someone your own size, you bastard."

"Big words coming from someone who lets child soldiers fight their battle for them," he mocked, reaching for his guns only for her to web them straight out of their holsters and into her own hands. She removed the magazines and dropped them to the ground.

"Robin has the right to fight for what he believes in as much as any of us," she shot back, keeping herself between Tim and the assailant. "You're the asshole who broke in here and specifically targeted him."

"He shouldn't be here!" The man yelled, pointing an accusing finger at Tim. "He doesn't deserve to wear those colors. He's. Not. A. Robin." He grit out, reaching for something in the pocket of his pants, but Heather had had enough.

She jumped forward and tackled him to the ground, using more of her enhanced strength than she normally would as he fought to free himself from her grasp. For several tense seconds, the two traded punches as they rolled across the floor. Eventually, she gained the upper hand, and had him pinned beneath her. She kept his arms locked above his head even as he bucked and writhed like a wild horse.

"I don't normally like to do this," she grunted, tightening her grip. "But for you? I'll gladly make an exception." She opened her mouth wide, venom already dripping and sunk her fangs into the small sliver of skin visible between his helmet and armored shirt.

It took less than thirty seconds for his body to go limp, but she didn't let go for several more, not trusting him to not have another trick up his sleeve. Finally, she released her hold and sat back, breathing out a sigh of relief. She looked down at his lolling head and reached for the edge of his helmet, only for her spidersense to flare up. “What kind of psycho puts something that dangerous right next to his face?” She muttered, pulling away from the helmet. That was a puzzle she’d sort out later.

A painful groan snapped her attention back to Robin, who was struggling to stay upright. “Kid! You okay?” She was at his side in seconds, gently taking his chin so she could examine the cut above his eye. She was careful of the bruising that had started to appear on the boy’s neck as she tilted his head back and forth. “That doesn’t look too deep. Head wounds just love to bleed. What’s wrong with your arm?”

Tim grimaced. “He popped it out of the socket. Wrist is on fire. Sprained, I think.” He spoke in terse short sentences laced with pain, but he was still standing and she gave him credit for that.

“Any other injuries?” Heather asked, lightly running her fingers over the swollen skin of his wrist, gently prodding for broken bones. Tim hissed and she murmured her apologies.

“Head hurts. Pistol whipped,” He reported reluctantly.

Heather knew if he was in a different frame of mind, he never would have admitted to that one. Like all the bats, he was notorious for skimping on injury reports. It used to drive her up a wall. It wasn’t like they were extra durable the way she was - they were more human than most of the league and the team combined. Sometimes, it was like they had begun to believe their own made up rumors, that the bat clan was something other. Which, as Heather well knew, they were not. They could bleed, they could break, they could even die.

Heather swallowed quickly against the deja vu as she saw a vision of a different Robin in front of her for a moment. She was thankful for her mask as she blinked quickly. “Right, let’s get you to medical. He’ll be out long enough for me to send a distress signal to the League and get someone here to help.”

“Is everyone else okay?” Tim asked, watching Heather quickly web his assailant to the floor.

“Unconscious, but otherwise fine. You were targeted specifically. The question is, why?” Heather wondered aloud, waiting until Tim’s brow scrunched in thought before quickly popping his shoulder back into place.

The boy howled, crumpling against her. She gripped him in a tight hug and ran her fingers through his hair. “Sorry, sorry, sorry! You know it goes in easier if you aren’t thinking about it. Sorry Timmy, sorry,” she hushed him gently as she felt a few tears hit her shoulder. “You did so good, Tim. I’m so proud of you.”

“Why?” Tim sniffed. “Why would you be proud of a pathetic replacement? Jason would have had that guy knocked out and cuffed in seconds. I couldn’t even hold out more than twenty minutes. He’s right - I’ll never be worthy of the title.”

“Hey!” She pulled back enough to meet Tim’s eyes even through their masks. “None of that. Do not ever think you aren’t worthy. You’re more than capable of being Robin. You are a good Robin, maybe better than even Dick was,” she admitted.

“But-”

“Are you really going to let the likes of him tell you whether you should have the mantle?” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder at the still knocked out assailant. “You’re smarter than that, Tim. Don’t be like me, kid. I spent too many years feeling unworthy of taking up Dad’s mantle, hiding behind the name Black Widow, and that wasn’t even mine either. I finally realized that my Dad would have wanted me to be the Scarlet Spider, and if he were still here I know he’d be proud. Jason would be proud of you Tim, do not let anyone tell you different not even yourself. You got it?”

Tim sniffed once and nodded reluctantly. “Yeah, okay,” he said, with about as much enthusiasm as he would have if she’d told him to do push ups.

Heather sighed and gave him a small smile. “We’ll work on that confidence together, yeah? Come on, let’s get you to med.”

It took very little time to get Tim set with some basic first aid. An xray showed his wrist was sprained, not broken, and only required some wrapping and an IV for fluids and light pain meds. Heather had found bruises all across the boys body that he had failed to mention. She vowed to herself to have a team meeting ASAP on honesty in all things - especially field injuries.

Once she didn’t have Tim to worry about as he fell into a light sleep, she was able to overcome the jamming signal that the assailant had used. She would have to discuss with Batman the Mountain’s security measures. Something about the attack rubbed her the wrong way, but she couldn’t put her finger on exactly what it was.

“Mount Justice to the League, this is Scarlet Spider. The mountain was infiltrated and the team was attacked. Requesting backup,” Heather waited impatiently for someone up on the satellite to answer her, although it actually only took a few seconds.

“Batman here, status?”

“The team was knocked unconscious with some sort of gas, even Superboy. Robin was specifically singled out and attacked by an assailant currently in custody. I need you, Martian Manhunter, and possibly one other Leaguer to assist.”

There was a palpable pause. “Robin was attacked?”

Heather could hear Bruce under Batman’s terse question, the parental worry only obvious to someone who knew him well. “He’s stable. Dislocated arm, laceration above his eye, light head injury, bruising all over his body from the fight… he did good, Batman. You should be proud. I only had to intervene at the very end after I regained consciousness,” she added.

Another pause. “That’s good to know. We’ll be down shortly. I’ll bring Black Canary and one of the lanterns as well.”

“I’ll have the assailant in holding. Scarlet Spider out.”

Heather rolled her neck and sighed. She knew Batman would want a more thorough report later, but for now she had a would be assassin to move to interrogation. Normally, suspects would be taken straight to the police, or possibly the satillite if they were big enough threats for interrogation. But this was personal, and Heather would be damned if she let the League take charge of what was a team matter, and she knew Dick would agree with her.

She found the suspect right where she’d left him, cocooned to the floor. She hoped the Manhunter would be able to remove the helmet without harming them or the suspect. Well, if the suspect got a little hurt, Heather wouldn’t have minded.

She knew that was cold, she knew it wasn’t very heroic. However, all she could think of was how easily Bruce could have had to bury another son today had she not gotten there in time.

She stretched out her spidersense as far as she could, sensing for danger or ill-intent, but there was nothing. The man’s chest rose and fell evenly in drug induced sleep, muscles lax. Still, she stayed on her toes as she lifted the man over her shoulder and carried him to an interrogation room. Once he was in a metal chair, she gave him another layer of webbing to anchor him in place. He hadn’t seemed to possess super strength, but she wasn’t taking any chances.

In short order, Dinah and J’onn appeared.

“Are you alright?” Black Canary asked, eyeing their suspect with barely disguised disgust. All the Leaguers were protective of the team in one way or another, but the Robins held a special place, especially for the original members like Dinah.

Heather shrugged. “Not a scratch on me. I’m assuming Batman is with Robin?”

“Indeed,” J’onn replied. “Green Lantern is scanning the cave for clues. We’ve already checked on the others. They show no adverse affects from the gas that was used on them. It was only flooded into the private quarters and a few of the public spaces, but the gym where Robin was held no traces of the gas. You’re initial assessment appears correct. Robin was the target.”

“They knew enough to get into the mountain’s security and how the airvents flow to distribute the drug,” Black Canary said thoughtfully, leaning against the metal table that Heather had moved to the side.

“But they didn’t know the gas wouldn’t work well on me,” Scarlet Spider added. “Who could have that much knowledge about us? Who would go through all this trouble just to attack Robin here, rather than in Gotham?”

“Maybe they wanted Robin isolated from Batman,” Canary suggested.

“But why Robin?” Heather asked again, feeling at a loss.

“Perhaps we should ask him,” Manhunter suggested. “He is awake, though very good at masking it. I almost did not sense his change in brain activity.”

The assailant had the nerve to chuckle, lifting his chin from his chest. “Good as ever Manhunter. Couldn’t ever get anything passed you.”

“You act as though we have met before,” Manhunter said, his tone flat.

“Haven’t we?” The man turned towards Canary and Spider. “Black Canary, lovely as ever.”

“Who are you?” Canary demanded, making a move like she was going to remove his helmet, only for Scarlet Spider’s hands to catch her own.

“His helmet is booby trapped,” She explained when the older woman gave her a raised eyebrow. She released her grip and Canary stepped back thoughtfully. “That’s part of the reason I asked for Martian Manhunter. I thought he might be able to remove the helmet without anyone getting hurt.”

“You always did have a bleeding heart, Black Widow… or is it Scarlet Spider now? I can never keep up with your latest identity crisis,” The man said dryly, knowingly.

None of them outwardly reacted, but Heather felt her heart skip a beat. This man knew how to access the mountain, knew how to knock out even a Super, he knew she’d had a prior codename and that she’d struggled with accepting it.

There’s no way he heard me talking with Robin. I mean, he was unconscious, and I was speaking too softly to be overheard, She thought and turned to Martian Manhunter who mentally linked her with Canary so they could discuss how to handle this.

Maybe we should wait for Batman to conduct this interview, Canary thought as they watched their captive struggle in his sticky prison.

That could be a while, Scarlet Spider replied. He won’t want to leave Robin’s side.

I agree, we can handle this and inform Batman of the results later, Manhunter answered.

As if he’s not going to be watching the security monitors, Black Canary thought with a snort. Manhunter, can you phase the helmet off? I wanna see this guy’s face.

J’onn floated forward and placed his hands on either side of the red helmet.

“I wouldn’t if I were you. We’ll all go sky high,” the man said in a singsong voice that struck Heather as strangely familiar, although she couldn’t say why.

The Martian didn’t reply, merely phased the helmet off completely intact, revealing the explosives rigged into the bottom of the equipment. That wasn’t what Heather was focused on however. Tan skin, sharp jawline, black curls with a shock of white hair right at his temple, eyes hidden by a domino mask, but Heather would know that face anywhere.

“What the fuck?” Heather breathed, stumbling back a step. “Jason?!”

Dinah and J’onn both looked equally stunned. For a moment, time almost stood still, then someone pressed fast forward.

“Is it really him? Can you check, J’onn?” Dinah asked at the same moment Heather rushed forward and cupped his face in her hands.

“Take a picture, it will last longer,” Jason spat, trying to wrench himself from her grip but she wouldn’t let him get far.

Keeping one almost bruising grip on his chin, Heather used the other to pull off his mask. His eyes were a bright toxic green, not the clear blue she remembered, and for a moment she doubted. Then he spat in her face to try and get her to let go, and she felt her heart shatter and reform a thousand times in her chest. Ignoring J’onn and Dinah’s protests, she reached up and removed her own mask so they could meet eye to eye.

“You’re fucking nasty,” she said, voice warbling with tears. “I can’t believe it’s you, Jason.”

He grit his teeth, struggling to pull away. “Let me go, bitch!”

“I am never letting you go again, brat,” She countered, pulling him into a bone crushing hug. “I don’t know what happened to you, or why you’re so angry, but I am never letting go. Do you hear me? I had to say goodbye to you once - I won’t do it again.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Dinah demanded.

“He has been exposed to Lazerus waters, it has made many of his memories hazy or tainted by hatred,” J’onn said, his eyes glowing as he concentrated. “From what I can glean, he…” the Martian hesitated before continuing, “he awoke in his coffin and dug himself free, then wandered for some time in a vegetative state. His next clear memory is of a woman of Arabian descent taking him somewhere, and then being thrown into one of the pits.”

Heather pulled back from Jason and looked at Dinah in dawning horror.

“Talia!” “Ra’s Al Ghul!” They exclaimed in unison.

“No wonder your brain is all scrambled,” Heather said, turning back to Jason, who suddenly looked less angry and more confused. “If you weren’t mentally well when you got dumped in a pit, it would only get worse with exposure to Lazerus waters. The pit revives the body, but it causes extreme psychological damage if your mind isn’t completely whole.”

“How would you know?” Jason demanded.

“What did you think I was doing during those long nights when there were no cases to work on down in the cave?” Heather asked. “Once my assignments were completed, I read up on old cases. I basically read the whole databank in the batcomputer; anything I could get my hands on, including all of Bruce’s info on Lazerus waters and the League of Assasins.”

“And what right did Talia have bringing you to Nanda Parbat in that mental state instead of bringing you home?” Dinah said indignantly.

“She -” Jason was blinking sleepily, and Heather saw that J’onn was working overtime to repair his damaged memories. “She was trying to help.”

“She kidnapped you!” Dinah retorted. “She literally kidnapped a minor. She may have had good intentions, but she of all people should have known what a terrible idea it would be to put someone in your mental state into a pit.”

"I swear to god, next time I see her, I'll punch her in the face. I don't care how fond of her Bruce is or where she stands with her father, she had no right to put us all through this," Heather vowed, running her fingers through Jason's hair absently. "If she found you like that, she should have brought you home!"

"You - you didn't care that I was gone," Jason argued weakly, his eyes now closer to their original color than before.

J'onn shook his head as his eyes stopped glowing. "I don't want to push too much too fast. It may do more harm than good, but I've done my best for now to help him remember his past and curb the influence of the Pit on his memories," he explained quietly to Dinah as Heather crouched down to eye level with her long lost brother.

"Jason, I - losing you nearly broke me," she whispered fiercely, eyes shining. "That night that Bruce brought you home? I don't know how I survived it. Sometimes it still feels like a part of me died too. I'm not the only one either." She swallowed thickly. "Nothing has been the same since. Dick, Babs, Alfred and I have been a mess. And Bruce is-"

"Don't you dare talk about that asshole right now!" Jason snapped, even as his own eyes grew red and glittery.

"You can't blame only him for what happened," Heather protested, shaking her head. "It was all our fault, and mine most of all. I should have been able to stop you from leaving the cave. I should have been able to find you! I-"

"I don't blame you for my death, Heather," Jason rolled his eyes.

She frowned. "How could you not-?"

"I accept that you couldn't get there in time," he interrupted impatiently. "I accept that I made a bad decision, and I paid for it. What I can't accept is why the fuck the Joker is still alive?!"

Understanding dawned in her eyes, then regret. "I… Jason…" She turned and looked at Black Canary and Martian Manhunter. "I need you guys to give us some space for a few minutes."

The Leaguers exchanged doubtful glances.

"Please, I promise we're good here it's just-" Heather couldn't hold their gaze. "I made a promise to never discuss this, but Jason needs to hear this now, and I can't wait for permission. I'll call you back when we're done."

Dinah considered her for a moment before relenting and J'onn followed her lead. Once the interrogation room had just the two of them, Heather turned purposefully to the security cameras, arms crossed. "I know you're listening to this Bruce, and I know what I promised, but this can't wait for a family meeting. I would do this regardless of what you said anyway."

She grabbed the other chair she'd shoved to the side and put it in front of Jason's, sitting down heavily. "I'm sorry you're still ah stuck here," she motioned at her webbing keeping him in place. "But given what happened earlier with Robin, and what I have to tell you, I think it's for the best to leave it be for the moment."

Jason rolled his eyes, but he'd stopped trying to break free a while ago. "Nothing you could tell me is going to change how I feel. The Joker should be dead. Not for me, but for every other single innocent life he's ruined."

"He did," Heather said flatly.

Jason blinked. "What are you talking about? I'm not fucking stupid. First thing I checked once I came back to my senses was to look into the bastard, and I know he's in goddamn Arkham!"

"Yes, currently he is," She agreed. "But the Joker did die." She scrubbed at her face roughly, looking suddenly ten years older. "Nightwing killed him. He found him, beat the shit out of him, and I- I watched it happen and did nothing to stop it."

Jason's jaw worked furiously for a few moments, emotions warring on his features. "I don't- I don't understand-" he finally managed hoarsely.

Heather leaned forward on her elbows, her face earnest. "Taking a life changes you. It kills a part of you that you can never get back."

"How would you know?" He scoffed.

"Three people have died directly because of me," She said quietly. "My father, my classmate, and you. Those deaths broke me. They took something from me, and I've had to stitch myself back together every time it happened, but I've never been the same after. When I saw Dick's face after that piece of shit stopped breathing… I knew he was different now too, and I-" tears were pouring down her face now but she made herself continue. "I couldn't let Dick live with that guilt. I'm so sorry, but I couldn't do it, I'm not strong enough."

"What did you do?" He demanded, eyes flaring toxic green again.

"Batman had gotten there and pulled Nightwing off the body, and I just- instinct just took over. I did CPR," she sobbed, gripping her bowed head, "and I hated myself every second of it, but I couldn't bear seeing Dick look like that."

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wanderinginksplot · 5 months

Text

Voices Carry

After all of the tricks and threats, your mysterious caller tries something different: conversation.

Eventual Mereel Skirata x fem!reader pairing.

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,100

Warnings: None

Previous | Next | Masterlist

---

Part Six

There had been a pile of credits on your desk when you had come into work that morning.

Sadly, you already knew it wasn’t a bonus or even a fun mystery you could unravel between your other duties. No, that was Julgum’s charming way of letting you know that he had been invited to a fundraiser and that he needed you to accompany him.

The first time it had happened, you had been confused, then wary. Any concerns that Julgum had unprofessional designs on you were quieted when he gave you a list of tasks for the event. He wasn’t inviting you as a date. No, he needed you to help him network, keep track of information, and usher him into a transport when he had too much to drink.

It wasn’t a favorite part of your job, but you didn’t mind it as much as you had expected to. You were still so relieved that Julgum wasn’t hitting on you that anything else seemed fine by comparison.

Besides, you only used some of the credits to purchase clothing. You kept the rest and refused to feel guilty about it.

That morning had been remarkably quiet, and you were using your personal datapad to browse some formal clothing that was on clearance at a local store. You had added several possibilities to your cart when the office comlink beeped.

“Senator Julgum’s office. How may I help you?”

The greeting rolled so naturally from your lips that you scarcely had to think about it anymore. You had scrolled to look at another option before the person on the other side of the line made any noise at all.

“Hello.”

“Hello,” you replied, just as automatically as your first greeting. “How may I help you?”

There was the sound of a sigh, one that turned into a slight chuckle as it trailed off. Something in the voice was familiar, and you set the datapad down on your desk. There was nothing to see, of course, but you still wanted to pay attention to the call.

“Why are you always there when I comm?” the voice asked. “Doesn’t Julgum give you a day off?”

“I’m sorry,” you apologized. “To whom am I speaking?”

The silence stretched an uncomfortable length of time, filled with a vague sense of horror. You made a valiant effort, but you finally broke and chuckled aloud.

The tutting on the other end of the link made you smile even wider. Julgum’s mysterious caller clearly had some sense of humor. It was late in your acquaintance - such as it was - for that humor to make an appearance, but you would take it over tricks and anger.

“That was mean,” he told you. “I’m many things, but forgettable isn’t one of them. Unless the pressure of working such long hours for the good senator is making you crack?”

Even with the censure, his voice was playful. He seemed utterly delighted that you had messed with him. Of course, you could claim to be in earnest and insist that you didn’t know who he was, but your laughter may have made that less believable.

…Besides, with everything that Julgum put you through, didn’t you deserve the chance to connect with someone?

“I don’t think I’m the only one working long hours,” you countered. “You’ve called for three days in a row trying to speak with the senator. Maybe it’s best to tell your boss to make an appointment.”

“Whatever do you mean? This is only the second time we’ve spoken.”

You believed your snort was permissible, given the overly innocent tone he had used. “Yes, we always get calls from the aides to prominent senators pretending to be the senator themselves, or Trade Federation representatives who make threats.”

“Those Federation types can be dangerous,” he told you. “I hope you gave him what he asked for.”

“Unfortunately, I couldn’t help the first one, but the second one was happier with the results of our conversation.”

“A second Trade Federation rep? What did they want?”

“If you don’t know anything about the first one, I don’t see why you should care about the second,” you said, audibly grinning.

“Clever thing, aren’t you?” His voice was amused again. “You’re right, I don’t know anything about any Trade Federation calls.”

“I thought as much,” you assured him.

Apparently, he wasn’t finished. “But I hate to hear that you’re getting so much strange comms traffic. Tell you what: I know a few people who can set up a system to screen callers who don’t have any real business with the senator. Patch me through to him and I’ll pitch the idea. I can even throw in a discounted estimate.”

“I would be happy to let you speak with Senator Julgum. Just give me your name and your appointment time.”

His laugh was clear this time, transmitting rich and loud over the line. “You don’t miss a thing, do you? I hope Julgum knows how closely his assistant watches his back.”

“He doesn’t,” you replied without thinking. And as you were biting your lip, the man laughed again. Hastily, you added, “But it’s fine. This is a job. I get paid in credits, not in gratitude.”

“Still, he should be careful. Someone might steal you away.” You didn’t know how to respond to that, but the mystery caller didn’t seem to need any input from you for his current train of thought. “What do you look like?”

“What?” you asked reflexively. After a beat to collect yourself, you said, “Surely you can understand why, given our current conversation about stealing people, I don’t want to answer that question.”

“Did you know you get overly formal when you’re flustered?” he asked. “I bet you’re pretty.”

The conversational whiplash was sudden and overwhelming. You shook your head, uncaring that he couldn’t see it. “I’m not. And I’m also starting to think you don’t have an appointment to speak with the senator. Do you?”

“I do not.”

You sighed and pressed the button to sever the connection. This wasn’t a great job, but you still needed to do work that wasn’t centered on flirtatious comlink conversations.

It would just take a moment to stifle the twinge of regret you felt at having not asked his name.

---

Author's Note - I know, this chapter is slow. This story is slow. But I'm trying to flesh out their relationship at a pace that feels steady and natural. Maybe our reader is just a little hesitant to trust a stranger and Mereel could use a little slow in the breakneck pace of a Null trooper. Thank you for reading anyway!

As a quick reminder, my taglist is now defunct. You are more than welcome to follow my writing sideblog at @wanderinginksplot-writes. I tag all of my fics with the name of the fic itself, so you can see what you want and not have to deal with the rest!

#voices carry #voices carry fic #mereel skirata #star wars republic commando #republic commando #null arcs #mereel skirata x reader #mereel skirata x you #reader insert #reader insert fic #star wars #star wars fanfiction #clone troopers deserve better #ink's fics #star wars legends

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withlovewriting · 1 year

Text

You’re On Your Own, Kid

Summary: You and Steve were best friends, until one hot Indiana summer, that didn’t seem enough.

Characters: Steve Harrington x Non-descriptive F!Reader.

Words: 3,556

Warnings: Angst. A kind of happy ending but not in the way you’ll want. Very brief implied mentions of sexual situations. Not so much Toxic!Steve, but he’s defo on that King!Steve shit. I am absolutely ignoring the entire story line of Strangers things, as am I ignoring the timeline of college applications etc. The story just fits better this way so i am uprooting everything anyone knows about american university. My bad. No use of y/n.

I also have really bad writers block, so I’m hoping this will help me pull through it.

Masterlist

Summer went away, Still the yearning stays, I play it cool with the best of them, I wait patiently, He's gonna notice me, It's okay, we're the best of friends

This years heatwave felt like no other. Indiana Summers were always hot, but this year it felt unbearable. Wiping the back of your hand across your forehead, trying in vain to stop the beads of sweat from dripping down your face you knocked loudly on the double, red doors.

"Alright, alright. Keep your hair on."

As soon as the door opened, you pushed yourself past your friend, making a beeline for the kitchen, grabbing a large glass of water and gulping at it.

"You were only out there for a couple of minutes." He smirked, watching you from the door frame that he leaned against.

Rolling your eyes, you placed the now empty glass into the sink and sent him a sarcastic grin, "So glad to know you can count, Harrington. Are the others here?"

Before he could reply, you heard Carol's loud screech, causing your head to jolt around and peer out of the window just in time to see Tommy throw Carol into the Harrington's pool.

Making your way outside, you placed your tote by a deckchair that hadn't already been claimed, laying out your towel and pulling off your loose fitted t-shirt and shuffling out of your shorts.

A loud wolf whistle came from Tommy, resulting in you sending him a finger as Carol's swift elbow to his ribs shut him up.

Relaxing back onto the deckchair, you could finally enjoy the sun's burning rays.

"Got you a beer."

A eye opened, watching as your best friend placed the opened can down by your deckchair, another in his own grip as he sat on the chair next to yours, "You know it's really not safe to lay out in the sun like that. Bet you haven't even got lotion on."

Sending a glare, your retort was quickly cut off when he pulled his own shirt over his head, revealing his lean torso, the tuft of hair on his chest thicker than you'd imagined.

Considering you'd known the boy since you were both in diapers, you could attest: Puberty had hit Steve Harrington hard.

His time as captain of the swim team and his previous summer of being a life-guard down at the community pool had done wonders, helping him grow into his gangling limbs. His position on the basketball team didn't hurt, either.

"You good?" His voice pulled you out of your own head, for once thankful of the absurd Indiana heat as you watched a single bead of sweat trail down his stomach, disappearing when it hit the band on his swim trunks.

Shaking your head a little, you sent him a tight-lipped smile before taking your beer, downing a few large mouthfuls to try and cool yourself down, "Totally. Just, hot, you know?"

"You know, I've heard a really, really good way to cool down in the hot weather."

His devilish smirk sent chills down your spine as he stood, moving closer to you. Your own playful smile tugged at your lips, knowing damn well what he was planning, "Don't even think about it, Harrington. I will kill you-"

His large hands heaved you into his arms bridal style as he made a sudden run for the pool, leaving you to tighten your grip around his neck, your own screeching that resembled Carol's from earlier falling from your mouth as your friends hollered and cheered Steve on as he leapt into the pool.

When you emerged, his arm now around your waist, you shoved at his chest a few times, spluttering as the chlorine filled water dripped from your nose, "Harrington!"

One of his hands left your side, helping to wipe the water from your face and out of your eyes before pushing his own hair back from his forehead. Between the humid weather and the pool activities, he had no point of styling it today anyway.

As he held you in his arms, you realized for the first time, you were crushing hard on your best friend.

I hear it in your voice, You're smoking with your boys, I touch my phone as if it's your face, I didn't choose this town, I dream of getting out, There's just one who could make me stay, All my days.

As the hot temperatures fell with the browned leaves of the trees, something had changed between yourself and Steve.

Twisting the phone cord, you could barely keep the gentle upturn of your lips as bay, "You really didn't have to call tonight, Steve. I know you're busy, really. I don't mind."

"I just missed your voice," he sighed softly down the phone, his altered state of mind made his lips a little loose.

"Are you high right now, Harrington?"

"Only a little," he sighed.

A few moments of silence passed between you both, his deep sighs showing that he was close to falling asleep. Deciding that maybe his his good mood might soften the blow of your news, you swallowed hard before softly saying his name,

"I, uh… I got an acceptance letter this morning."

"Awesome, Indianapolis?" You could almost see the grin that would stretch at his face, eyes full of pride, all to be shattered in your next sentence.

"UCLA," you whispered, almost hoping he didn't hear you, but your news seemed to sober him up.

After a few seconds of shuffling, you heard him much clearer, "Wait, what? I know you mentioned it but… I didn't think you were serious."

"Well, I didn't think I had a shot. But the letter came this morning and so long as I get my predicted grades, I'm in."

"Are you gonna accept?"

You remained silent for a moment, swallowing the lump that had crawled its way up your throat, "Would you be mad if I did?"

A small scoff fell from the boy's chest, but his words remained steady, "Mad? No way. Sad, though? I mean… You're my best friend. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Please, Harrington. We all know you'd do just fine without me."

"You know what? Give me 10 minutes, I'm coming over."

"Steve, you've been smoking and-"

"I'm fine, trust me. I didn't smoke that much, I can still drive."

True to his word, just under 15 minutes later, Steve Harrington came barreling through your open window as he sneaker caught on the frame.

"Holy shit, be quiet, my parents are asleep."

"I just, I needed to see you. You can't just drop a bomb like that over the phone."

You took a seat at the end of your bed, fiddling with your hands as they sat in your lap, "I applied to a few places. I'm still waiting for the letters back… California isn't set in stone."

Steve was pacing in front of you, hands threading through his hair as he tried to get his thoughts in order, "I know, I just… I thought the plan was to stay close to home. Close to me."

Grabbing the sleeve of his sweater as he passed you, you gently dragged him toward you. Taking a seat next to you, he finally seemed to settle a little.

"You know that me leaving Hawkins doesn't equate to me leaving you, right? You're always gonna be my best friend. No amount of miles will change that."

Steve placed his hand over yours, still cold from the autumn air, "That's not true, and you know it. You'll go off to sunny California, and some hot guy from your class will teach you how to surf, and you'll join a sorority and… Once you're gone, you'll never look back. I'll just be some guy from your hometown who's name you don't remember."

"Steve," you whispered softly, as if he were some cornered animal ready to bolt at any moment, "you know that's not true. I could never forget you."

The boy watched you for a moment in the low-light of your room, his eyes growing softer with each moment that passed. You knew that Steve – no matter how much he'd reject your opinion – had abandonment issues that stemmed from his childhood.

His father, a chronic cheater, would constantly be off on business trips, his shoes barely hitting the welcome mat before he was packing another weekend bag.

His wife, eventually found out about one of his out-of-town trysts, and Steve thought that would be the end of it. He expected a blow out fight, his mother to send her father packing, but it just never happened. Instead, his mother – despite being a respect woman of affluence around town – feigned ignorance and continued her role as housewife with only one exception. She now joined his father on every business trip.

Whilst it did mean his father couldn't continue his rendezvous as easily, it had a domino effect on the way he treated his son.

From a childhood of broken promises of camping and fishing weekends, to a back hand whenever Steve might dare toe the line of respect, Mr Harrington always seemed displeased. With his life, his wife, his son… You couldn't tell.

And still, his mother just sat by, putting the blame on her child, telling him not to provoke his father.

If Steve was honest, he thinks he preferred it when they weren't in town. At least that way he could be left to his own devices without someone scoffing at him over a newspaper during breakfast.

"Steve," you cupped his face, his downcast eyes glancing over your own, "I'd never leave you behind."

Before you could take another breath, the boys lips were pressed against your own, hard and demanding as though he was scared you'd vanish into thin air.

You'd be waiting for something like this, ever since the summer. Your friendship had changed along with the seasons, and you felt there was no going back now. You'd both crossed a line that couldn't be redrawn.

And as Steve's body pressed you down onto your mattress, his lips caressing your neck, small, soothing pecks after sharp nips, you realized that maybe you didn't have to leave. Maybe you had everything you'd ever need, right here in Hawkins.

Pulling his face into your hands and making him look at you, you whispered, "Ask me to stay. Ask me to stay, and I will."

His lips crashed back into yours, the passion exploding like fireworks on the fourth of July, the intensity of your words acting as an igniter.

And although he never muttered those words, you knew after that night, leaving just wouldn't be an option anymore.

From Sprinkler splashes to fireplace ashes, I waited ages to see you there, I search the party of better bodies, Just to learn that you never cared

The Christmas lights hung around the Harrington household were Mrs. Harrington's parting gift before she left for a Christmas cruise with her husband, not planning on being back until after New Years.

You watched as they twinkled, the soft glow of reds, greens, yellows and blues illuminating the living room in a warm haze, just like the alcohol that swam through your veins did.

Neither of you had brought up the evening you'd spent together a few months ago, but it seemed you had settled into a softer relationship. You would hang out after school as usual, trying to force him to at least attempt his homework before giving up and munching on popcorn as you lazed around watching whatever film he'd picked up from Family Video that evening.

The conversation of your future didn't always come up, but even the slightest mention of California seemed to send Steve into a frenzy, barely giving you time to pull off your underwear before he was gently easing into you.

Soft words and even softer touches would remain for hours after, he'd keep you tight in his arms, but never allow himself to fall asleep. By the time you'd awaken the next morning, his side of the bed would be cold.

But your father knew of Steve's reputation around town as a ladies man – as did most of the parents in Hawkins – so you couldn't blame him for making a quick exit.

Taking another sip from the red solo cup you'd been refilling almost as quickly as you'd been draining it, you peered around the party, hoping to spot the host.

Steve was always busy at his own parties. Between the swim team and the basketball team, he remained on a tight loop of schmoozing, just like his mother had taught him. You'd lost sight of him about an hour ago, and as the minutes ticked down before you'd have to leave for curfew, you decided your best option was to just go find him and tell him the good news.

The acceptance letter from Indianapolis burned in your back pocket, and although you wanted to keep the secret until Christmas day, you knew the words would fall out of your mouth the moment you saw him.

You were going to accept Indianapolis. You were going to turn down UCLA. You were going to stay here, with him.

You'd no longer have to send small, knowing glances followed by fleeting smiles across the lunch table, and once you'd moved, he could come with you. You weren't overly optimistic about sharing an apartment with three other girls, anyway.

He'd no longer have to sneak out before he'd be noticed, and you could continue your nightly activities long into the morning if you so wished. You could finally be together, away from the gossip and reputations of the town.

Placing your cup on the small end table, you began to push your way through the room, the crowds of bodies dispersing just enough for you to squeeze by as they continued dancing the night away.

Tommy and Carol were off in the corner sucking face, and you'd seen a few of the basketball team grinding against the cheerleaders in the living room, and decided to head out toward the pool, where Steve would most likely be upside down, cementing his crown as Hawkins High's very own Keg King. A title you couldn't help roll you eyes at.

Sure, he had set a pretty impressive record, but Steve Harrington was not a boy who could handle his drink, which granted, most teenagers couldn't, either.

Thankfully, nobody was stupid enough to go for a winter's night swim, despite the heated pool, but it did mean that there were a lot more people hovering around outside, blocking your view.

"Hey, you seen Harrington anywhere?" you asked one of the cheerleaders from your Math class. She simply shrugged before returning to the drinking game she was playing.

With only two options left, and 10 minutes on the clock before you definitely had to leave, you decided to head up to Steve's bedroom, where he was most likely already face-down on his mattress, snoring the night away.

Few people hovered on the large staircase, chatting over the music as you pushed by. Taking a left at the long hallway, you knocked softly on the door, as if that would prepare you for what you were about to witness.

Steve was, in fact, face-down on his bed. Unfortunately, however, another body happened to be under him.

Sure, they were seemingly both clothed, the only item of clothing that had been removed was his yellow sweater that was crumpled up in a pile at the end of the bed, but the site still caused your heart to plummet.

"God, can't a man have some privacy in his own- oh. Shit, sorry."

Steve looked between you and the flushed girl, as if he genuinely didn't know what to do. A deer caught in headlights, or a fly caught in the spider's web.

The girl grumbled your name, an annoyed scoff falling from her plump lips, "God, get out!"

Despite all of the oxygen leaving your lungs, you quickly hurried back down the hallway, taking the steps two at a time.

You could hear Steve's calls from behind you as he tripped over his own feet, trying to tug on his sweater and ignore the staring eyes of the students he passed by. He didn't managed to catch up with you until you were half-way down the drive.

Panting, Steve grabbed your arm, forcing you to turn toward him. Letting your palm fly, you struck him against the cheek, guilt still somehow crawling up your spine when the red mark bloomed on his skin almost imminently.

You both remained silent for a moment, your chest heaving as you tried fruitlessly to catch your breath. Taking advantage of his few seconds of shock, you turned once more, marching away from the boy, the acceptance letter burning a hole in your back pocket.

You're on your own, kid, Yeah, you can face this

Packing up the last of your bags, you released a deep sigh before heaving them down the stairs of your family home. Sure, it wasn't necessarily a permanent move, but something about leaving felt so… final.

Of course, you would be back during the holidays whenever you could, but you weren't made of money, and it was a long car ride for just for a few days of home comforts.

Your father placed your last suitcase into the trunk, slamming it shut before wiggling the handle. The last thing you needed was to lose most of your packed clothes on the I-70.

You felt like you had been preparing for this day longer than you realized. A bittersweet feeling, dipping your toes into adulthood, even if you did still have the security of falling back on your parents if you needed to. But after everything that had happened, everything you had lost, you refused to allow college to be one of them. Especially when you'd already almost lost it once.

The screeching of tires caused you all to halt your actions, a loud huff from your father when Steve Harrington almost fell from his maroon BMW, tripping over his white sneakers to get to you.

His hair was a mess -- something that was unbelievably unlike Steve -- and his eyes were shining with what could only be guilt.

He had tried to speak to you after his Christmas party, but you'd managed to escape any interaction with him so far. You hadn't outright told your parents what had gone on between the two of you -- you weren't looking to get the boy killed, and yourself grounded for life -- but it was evident something had transpired between you both, causing the rift.

"Can I speak with you?" his eyes darted toward the direction of your parents, suddenly seeming a little meeker "Alone?"

Despite the delay his sudden arrival would have on your travel time, you agreed, waiting until your family made their way back inside.

"What do you want, Harrington?"

"I just... I needed to come see you, before you left. Carol told me about UCLA and I... It just didn't feel right to let you go without seeing you first."

Rolling your eyes, you opened the driver's side, throwing your back onto the passenger seat, "Well, don't worry, Steve. Now your conscience is cleared. Have a nice life."

His hand caught the car door before you could settle yourself into the seat, blocking you from entering the car, "Please, I didn't mean that. I just... You told me, that night. You told me that if I asked you to stay, that you would."

It felt like such a long time ago, yet his weak and wobbly voice still tugged at your heartstrings. you knew what he was getting at before he'd even began to say it. Steve Harrington knew that with one word, he could change the whole trajectory of your life.

"Stay, please. Stay here with me."

And if this had been Summer, or Fall you. Then you would've. In a heartbeat, without hesitation. It was hard to think about what your life could be. A small, one bedroom flat with Steve, the new friends you'd make at the University of Indianapolis would fawn over your love story. Boy meets girl. Girl falls in love with boy on hot summer. Boy asks girl to stay. And she does.

Except this time, she didn't.

Steve watched from his car as your own vehicle pulled off the drive, bags all packed, goodbyes said, and promise of calling as soon as you arrived at your first stop in your cross-country road trip.

You took a moment as you passed him, sending him a small wave, the ghost of a peaceful smile tugging at your lips when his downcast eyes met yours, hand raising to return to wave regardless.

Winding down the window as you made your way throughout the small town of Hawkins, passing by the 'Thank you for visiting Hawkins, Indiana. Drive safe' you released a deep breath that you were certain you'd been holding in all of your life.

Hawkins wasn't the end of your story, and Steve Harrington wasn't the be-all and end-all.

California was only the beginning.

You're on your own, kid, You always have been

#steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington fic #stranger things fic

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theshmeepking · 3 months

Note

Follow-up question! How did Jigen cope with his decision to leave Aiko behind?

putting this under the cut because WOW this got a LOT longer than i thought it would

the same way he copes with everything else /hj

but frfr, in a way, he didn't? or at least, not the first time.

i didn't really cover any of this in The Aible since it was more jigen's story than aiko's, but basically the headcanon is: jigen initially takes up stealing so he and his sister can survive; he's just a kid and it's not like their dad's doing a good job taking care of them, so he's just doing the best he can with such limited options. it starts small, gradually building up to bigger and better things, and once his dad takes notice of his skill, he exploits the hell out of it.

before long he more or less becomes his dad's little unwilling partner in crime, and though he doesn't like it, it does lead to his dad developing a weird sort of respect for him, and life gets a little bit easier for both him and aiko as a result.

then his dad gets into debt with the mob and asks him for help selling off his sister in order to pay it back.

he shot him and ran without hesitation.

problem is, dear old dad was pretty well regarded in the underworld, and by killing him jigen had basically put a big red flashing target on his back. if he went back to aiko, someone would surely go after her sooner or later in order to get to him. he hated the idea of leaving her all alone, but it was better than the alternative. so he layed low for a while, playing with the cards he had been dealt. he stuck with what he was good at, not caring if he was just digging his own grave at that point. there wasn't anything else left for him to do and he'd much rather ruin his own life than his sister's.

he had already dabbled in alcohol and tobacco before, but he especially doubled down on it after that. drugs, booze, sex; he drowned himself in whatever vices he could get his hands on just to get his mind off of home. after a while that became his new normal.

over the years he garnered quite the reputation for his skills as a hired gun. problem was that most people interpreted "hired gun" as just "hitman" and little else. truthfully he didn't mind all that much--he was so detached from everyone and everything around him that he never paid any real mind to what he was doing anymore--but after a while it just got monotonous. boring.

then a certain monkey-faced thief shows up and starts causing a lot of problems for a lot of people.

some guy wanted him dead, and the first time jigen got asked to kill him, to his surprise, he couldn't. and not due to lack of trying, mind you. it was the first time since he could remember that he'd emptied the chamber of his magnum on a hit. and he liked it.

more and more people wanted that bastard dead, and each and every one of them wanted jigen to kill him at some point or another. and each and every time, he just couldn't do it. it was the most invigorated he had felt in years. it almost became a game between them, and he couldn't get enough of it.

then someone brings his little sister into it. needless to say that was his last job as a hitman.

lupin immediately noticed that his sparring partner was acting strange, and as soon as he found out why, he quickly devised a plan to help him. he claimed it was just because he couldn't stand to see anyone mistreating such a cute girl, and there was certainly some truth to that, but it was more because he had actually come to like the guy. it was the first time the two of them had ever worked together, and they made a surprisingly good team. everything went off without a hitch.

jigen, meanwhile, wasn't really sure how to feel. obviously he was happy his sister was safe, and it felt good to see her again, but at the same time, there was no denying that things were tense at first. they had both gone through hell, and it was wearing on both of them. the sudden realization that she had grown up without him didn't help, either.

still, the whole situation put things into perspective. he had given up everything thinking it would keep her safe, and in one fell swoop it all blew up in his face. on the one hand, he was relieved to find he didn't have to completely cut himself off from her anymore. on the other, it only meant that she was still in danger either way.

he couldn't stay, that would only make her more likely to be targeted again. but if he left, she wouldn't have anyone to protect her, either. he didn't want to drag her into his mess any more than he already had, but he didn't want to completely abandon her, either. no matter how much she begged him to stay, no matter how much he wanted to stay, they both knew it just wasn't feasible.

so, they reached a compromise. he still keeps his distance, but they still keep in touch. he visits every once in a while, makes sure everything is alright, wash, rinse, repeat. it works for him, but now he's faced with a new problem: what does he do now? like hell he's going back to taking hits after what just happened, but what else is a newly ex-hitman to do, anyway?

fortunately for him it's not long until lupin tracks him down, and this time he's got an offer. a job he needs a second person for, and one with good aim at that. and while he probably shouldn't accept job offers from people he's tried to kill before, it's not like jigen has anything better to do. plus he did help him rescue ai. he owes him one anyway.

it starts with one job. then another. then it becomes a regular thing. then they start calling themselves "partners". they start living together, lupin gets a girlfriend, they befriend a samurai, you already know how this goes.

for the first time in his life, he doesn't hate himself. he has people who care about him, who make him happy consistently. and he wouldn't trade any of it for the world.

tl;dr: self-destructive tendencies and eventually an actual support system

#lupin iii #lupin the third #lupin the 3rd #jigen #certified shmeepy original #daisuke jigen #jigen daisuke #ocs #aiko!#lupin the third headcanons #lupin iii headcanons #lupin #arsene lupin iii #sorry for basically giving you my interpretation of jigen's entire life story but i couldn't not okay #there's CONTEXT to this thing. LAYERS.#also yes i rewrote some of it because my friend wrote an aiko fic so good i implemented part of it into my own :3

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x-bluefire-heart-x · 1 year

Text

Take Two and Something More

So this chapter flowed really nicely and I rather like it so I hope you guys do as well. I am working on chapter four but it probably won’t be as quick to be uploaded as I will be back at work this week.

Also again, any mistakes are my own.

Also also, please check out my prompt list and feel free to request something! I really enjoyed writing my requests last time!

Side note, this GIF really shows how nice his hands are....or is that just me?

Warnings: I don’t believe there are any but please let me know if there is something here that needs to be tagged as a warning.

Master List

Prompt List

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Tag List: @profoundtyrantharmony @wanniiieeee

The case against Paul O’Neil had resulted in him being found guilty of multiple counts of rape, harassment and stalking . Once the newspapers had written about his arrest after Finn, Viper and Nick had searched his apartment and found a number of videos of his attacks, a number of other women came forward with their accounts. It had been a tough case, Paul’s defence team claiming that the women agreed to be videoed and that everything was consensual but thankfully the jury was able to see through his charm. During the trial you had sat in the court room to support the women and though you would deny it with all your being you were impressed with Rafael Barba and his ability to trap the suspect or one of the witnesses for defence in their lie and force them to backpedal.

“I guess you were telling the truth,” you muttered to Olivia while the two of you were waiting for your drinks at the bar. Olivia glanced at you, a smirk on her face.

“Telling the truth about what?” she asked, smirk turning into a grin when you shot her a pointed look.

“About that ADA,” you said, voice tinged with annoyance. “He is a good lawyer.”

“Wow, that sounded incredibly painful for you to admit,” Olivia laughed picking up her wine.

“Shut up.”

You thanked the bartender after he placed your whiskey in-front of you. The two of you walked to meet the rest of the team at your booth. You stopped short when you realised there was an extra person sitting at the booth. Olivia looked at you, nudging you carefully in the arm forcing you to look at her.

“Play nice,” she whispered forcing you to keep walking.

Thankfully she took the sit beside him but that meant you had to sit across from him. The table grew quiet before forced conversations were picked up again but you could tell that the team was watching you out of the corner of their eyes and paying more attention to what was going to happen. You took a big sip of your whiskey before looking up at Rafael who was already staring at you. You felt an uptake in the speed of your heart beats and a rush of warmth growing up your neck the longer you stared at his face, his green eyes just staring you down. The light from the bar hitting his face at all the right angles and brought your eyes to the strong features of his jawline and his nose. You blinked a few times and took another sip from your drink and looked away for a moment before looking back. He was still staring at you, though you thought you had noticed a slight red tinge to his cheeks but you weren’t sure if it was from the lights or reflecting off of Olivia’s red shirt.

The tension was thick between the two of you, you could almost feel it suffocating the air. You waited to see if he was going to say anything but he just stared at you sipping from his own drink. You noticed Oliva nudging him in the arm and giving him a sharp look. You felt something tap your leg and glanced at Nick who was also giving you a sharp look.

‘Go on’. Nick mouth at you, his glass hiding his mouth from the other side of the table. You sighed, glaring at him before turning back to Rafael.

“Hi,” you said, grimacing at the awkwardness. “Good job in court.”

Rafael nodded but didn’t respond. You blinked sitting up straighter and looking towards Olivia. You glared at her before completely ignoring the man across from you and turning to engage Nick in his conversation with Finn and Amanda.

“Rafael, play nice,” Olivia said when Rafael turned to her. “Viper is trying and so can you. You said you would be civil.”

“They haven’t apologised,” Rafael said, his tone haughty and completely different to what Olivia was use to. She groaned rubbing her forehead.

“You two are like children,” she muttered. “Viper is not going to apologise in-front of all of us but they will. They promised. Besides, you also admitted to me that their profile was accurate and helped get the warrant.”

“That has nothing to do with this,” Rafael groused. He swallowed the rest of his drink and motioned for Olivia to move.

“Going already counsellor?” Amanda asked bringing everyone’s attention to him. You looked away from Nick and saw that Rafael looked a little like a deer in headlights at all the attention before he masked it.

“Yes, I have another case to start preparing for in the morning,” he said nodding at all them. You watched him go before feeling four sets of eyes on you. You slowly turned around and saw that they had all switched their attention to you.

“Go on!” Nick half shouted shoving you towards the end of booth.

“You did tell me you would apologise,” Olivia said taping your foot with hers. You looked at Finn and Amanda who both made shooing motions with their hands.

“I can not take any more tension and awkwardness,” Amanda whined. “Do something about it, be a grown up and apologise.”

You grumbled as you got up and followed the ADA out of the bar but not before downing the rest of your whiskey. Thankfully Rafael hadn’t gotten very far from the entrance of the bar. You jogged to catch up.

“Counsellor!” you called out. He stopped and turned around looking a little surprised that you had followed him.

“Can I help you detective or are you here to demand something else from me?” Rafael knew he was being petty but he couldn’t help it. You reared back a little at that, surprised but also knowing that you kinda deserved it.

“No actually,” you tried to keep your tone civil but knew that your tone was edged in anger. You took a deep breath and pushed your anger down. “I’m here to apologise. Whether I meant to or not I attempted to intimidate you that day in your office and it was inappropriate. I am sorry for doing that.” Your tone thankfully was sincere as you were sorry for having done that. It was something you hated doing during your time undercover but it was necessary for your role, for you to have done it without thinking to someone on your side made your stomach drop and feel sick.

“Whether you meant to or not?” Rafael asked. “I didn’t realise intimidation was an instinct.”

“Seriously? I am here apologising and you’re acting like an arse,” you seethed. “And yes whether I meant to or not. That action was something I had to do over the last year when I did a joand it is not something easy to come back from.”

“I’m being an arse?” Rafael scoffed. “That’s rich.” He crossed his arms, staring you down. You shook your head not able to believe how he was acting. You thought you had acted like a child in your first meeting with him and now in your second actual conversation he is acting like a child.

“Yes!” You shouted pressing your palms into your eyes and groaning. “My god. I don’t know why I even bothered.” You turned around just wanting to leave the situation.

Rafael stood there for a moment, staring at you as you entered back into the bar. He scoffed again before turning around, he paused briefly and knew that Olivia would give him a headache if you mentioned how that entire conversation went. He sighed, knowing that this time he was in the wrong, you had sounded very sincere with your apology and even provided an explanation that didn’t sound like an excuse but just you trying to explain it. He rubbed the back of his neck and pulled out his phone to order an uber. He didn’t quite understand why he couldn’t just accept your apology and move on, this could affect the whole squad and that wasn’t something he wanted to do. He would be loathed to admit it but Manhattan SVU had gotten under his skin and he rather enjoyed working with them.

He sighed rubbing at his temples as his uber pulled up and he got in. He rested his chin on his hand and stared out the window. Still trying to work out what exactly went wrong. Your eyes had seemed to burn with fire when he first responded to you before you seemed to calm down and the fire in your eyes simmered down, he noticed whenever he looked at you that the embers of a fire seemed to be constantly in your eyes. Though he found them to most appealing when you were angry. He blinked and shook his head looking up and huffing in disbelief, he did not find you appealing in the least and he definitely didn’t act the way he did just to see how your eyes looked. Nope. That is not something an ADA of his calibre did. His phone beeped, forcing him to look down and get out of his head.

“Shit,” Rafael sighed noticing that it was a message from Olivia. He thought about leaving it unread but he knew that would cause a bigger headache the next time he saw the detective. He thumbed open the message.

Message from Olivia: Seriously?! What is wrong with you Rafi? They apologised and you acted like a compete jerk.

Message to Olivia (draft): I didn’t find it sincere enough

‘I can’t send that,’ he thought. ‘Viper seems the type of person who wouldn’t apologise unless they meant it.’

Message to Olivia: Truthfully, I don’t know.

Message from Olivia: Well, you better figure it out and fix it! Viper will be interacting with you a lot, and this team cannot have any tension.

Message to Olivia: I will.

Rafael sighed putting his phone away, he really didn’t have any idea how to fix this as he truly didn’t understand how and why he acted the way did.

“I cannot believe that arrogant, egotistical, jerk!” you growled slamming back another shot of vodka. It probably wasn’t the best idea but honestly you didn’t care. You had apologised and even tried to explain why you did it, and you didn’t even like mentioning that you had done undercover work but you felt he was owed something.

“I know, I know,” Amanda patted you on the back and went to the bar for another round.

Olivia was sitting across from you and patted your hand, Nick sat on your right with his arm around your shoulders letting you lean into him. Finn had left already but not before telling you not to mind Rafael, you did the right thing. He also paid for two rounds of vodka shots. You had had about four shots of vodka, having one of Olivia’s and one of Nicks. Nick had pushed his in-front of you, telling you that he’ll drive you home so you can go nuts. Amanda had taken Nick’s other shot.

“I mean I apologised!” you groaned. “And he just…just urgh!”

Amanda giggled softly as she sat back down across from you beside Olivia putting two more shots in-front of you and one in-front of herself and a glass of water in-front of Olivia and Nick. You reached for the shots and downed them in quick succession. Nick laughed and nudged his water before you, urging you to at least have a sip.

“Come on, just a mouthful otherwise you are going to feel like hell tomorrow,” Nick whispered his fingers running through your hair. You pouted and reached for the water taking a few sips.

Amanda and Olivia shared a look at the way Nick was treating you, it was something new since you had gotten back though you didn’t seem to mind too much. And it also seemed to get through to you in your tipsy stupor. You smiled at him and patted his cheek when he took back his water and sipped from it.

“I’ll have a talk with him and we can try and sort it out,” Olivia promised getting your focus on her. “And please believe me when I tell you that he isn’t normally like that. And Viper please promise me if he comes to you and apologises that you won’t do what he did.” You sat up from your slump against Nicks side and vigorously shook your head.

“Of course I wouldn’t!” You promised. “If he is sincere with his apology like I was of course I would accept it. It can take cocky dickheads like that a lot of balls to say sorry. I should know, I can be like that as well.” The three of them laughed at your admission and decided that should probably be it for the night. You all did have work in the morning,

“Come on up you get, time to take you home,” Nick said and this time he was gentler when he moved you out of the booth. His hands on your waist. The four of you made your way outside, Olivia and Amanda ordering their Ubers. You weren’t overly drunk but the quick shots of vodka were definitely going to your head and making you dizzy. Nick had wrapped his arm around your waist to help stabilise you, and you had placed your arms around his neck, bringing you close to his face. You leant your head in the crook of his neck.

“Are you right with them?” Olivia asked. “I don’t mind sharing an uber with Viper.”

“No it’s fine, they live on the way to mine,” Nick shook his head, looking down at you with an extremely soft look on his face, one that Olivia saw when he looked or talked about Zara.

“Right well, see you all in the morning!” Amanda waved as her uber pulled up getting side and gesturing to her phone at Olivia.

“Not very subtle,” Nick whispered to Olivia who just shook her head.

“Who knows what is going through her head, especially after a couple of vodka shots,” Olivia said. “Ah, my Uber is here. See you both in the morning, make sure they drink plenty of water.”

“I will, safe trip back Liv,” Nick waved.

“Bye bye Liv!” you waved at her. Olivia smiled indulgently at you before getting in her Uber. “Nick?”

“Yes?” Nick looked back down at you as he started to direct you to his car. He hadn’t parked far from the bar which he was grateful for, you weren’t heavy but you definitely weren’t light. Especially with how much of your weight you were putting on him.

“I’m tired,” you pouted. “And…and I still feel really bad about what I did.”

“Hey, you apologised,” Nick said squeezing your waist. “Don’t feel too bad about it, Rafael can get very frustrating.”

“Yeah but I hate doing that, when I had to do it from them it made me feel sick,” you whined. “Those people where innocent and they didn’t deserve for me to frighten and intimidate them.”

Nick tried to get a look at your face but you had buried it in his neck but he knew you were crying, he could feel the tears hitting the skin on his neck. He quietly seethed, angry beyond belief at Rafael for causing you to be like this. Yes, in the beginning you had been in the wrong but you had tried to make it right but Rafael for some insane reason decided to be a dick and not graciously accept it. Nick unlocked his car and opened the door, gently placing you in the seat before kneeling in-front of the door and reaching up to wipe away the tears.

“Viper, look at me,” Nick’s voice was incredibly soft and gentle, his eyes swam with concern when you finally raised your eyes and looked at him. “Whatever you did when you were under cover you did to protect those women and to protect other women. If you hadn’t agreed to help who knows how many other women would have been harmed.”

You nodded and rubbed at your eyes trying to stop the tears but they just kept on coming, a small sob escaped from your throat no matter how hard you tried to stop it. Nick reached up and wrapped his arms around you drawing you into his chest allowing you to get out whatever you needed. You clutched his shirt in your hands, so hard that your knuckles turned white. He rubbed his hand up and down your back, not saying anything but making soothing noises in the back of his throat. His other hand had wrapped round the base of your neck and gently stroked the skin there.

“I’m so sorry,” you muttered as you leaned back noticing how much snot was now on his shirt.

“That’s alright,” Nick smiled tapping you on the nose. “I have a feeling that was something you needed to get out of your system. Now, let me get you home so you can have some water and get some sleep.”

“Thanks Nick,” you smiled up at him, your eyes red rimmed and drowsy not just from the alcohol now but also from the tears. “Everything you have done for me since I got back, I really appreciate it.”

Nick nodded and moved around the drivers side of the car, once he had sat down he reached out one last time to gently brush his fingers against your cheek.

“You never have to thank me for that,” Nick smiled.

He looked back to the front of the car and focused on getting you home safe. He missed the red that dusted your cheeks that wasn’t there before, something you were grateful for. You weren’t entirely sure what was happening with Nick but he had been acting different since you had gotten back and the squad had seen how different you were. How broken your time under cover had made you. You glanced at Nick and watched the street lights play over his face before looking away not wanting to get caught staring. You leaned your head against the window and went back over your conversation with Rafael to try and see where you had gone wrong. Maybe you didn’t sound as sincere as you had thought. You tried to remember the facial expressions of the ADA to see if maybe there was a clue there. Your face suddenly felt very warm when you remembered how he looked when he turned around after you had called out for him. His face had those strong angles, his chin had a little five o’clock shadow growing on it, and his eyes, his eyes were so expressive and the green in them was everchanging. You shook you head, not wanting to further entertain those thoughts or even want to start working out where they came from. Especially after that moment in the bar and not until you worked out what was going on with Nick.

You rested your head against the back of the seat and closed your eyes. In the morning everything would be better. You just knew it.

#Rafael Barba #Law and Orde SVU #Writing #Imagines #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #law and order svu imagine #Nick Amaro #Amanda Rollins #Olivia Benson #grumpy rafael barba #Rafael Barba is a jerk #Rafael Barba doesn't understand #Reader is confused #law and order

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7ndipity · 7 months

Text

“Not Just Friends"

Namjoon x Reader

Summary: You and Joon have been toeing the line between friends and something more for weeks, and you finally decide to make the first move.

Warnings: Swearing, Suggestive, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! I can't tell if I like this one or not, I'm too tired lol, but hopefully you will!(Also, I can't, for the life of me, come up with titles🤷)

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

“Okay, it’s the zombie apocalypse,” You started for the third time that afternoon, shifting to face him where he sat next to you on the bench. “All we have to eat are mint chocolate protein bars.”

“That sounds absolutely disgusting.” He said, scrunching his face up at you.

“It’s all we have left!” You retorted. “Would you eat them or not?”

“Nope.” He responded immediately, sipping his coffee.

“Seriously?! You would rather starve?!” You asked in disbelief.

“I would leave them for you, so you could survive.” He said, shrugging.

“That’s sweet, but also very stupid.” You commented.

“Well, I guess that’s just me.” He said, smirking at you.

“Ugh,” You cringed, making him chuckle. “Why do I even bother with you?”

“Because I buy you coffee?”

“Mmm, not sure if that’s good enough.” You replied dryly, reaching over in an attempt to flick the brim of his ballcap, but he leaned out of your reach, making you nearly wobble off balance before shifting back to your original position.

It felt nice to hang out with him like this again, ending the day just sitting together in the park as the first leaves of autumn skittered by on the breeze. Things had been slightly off between you the past couple weeks, following a slightly drunken evening out together with some other friends had resulted in you both sharing more than you maybe should have.

“So, I have a question.” He drawled, leaning slightly closer than was necessary for you to hear him. “What would you do, hypothetically, if I told you somebody was into you?”

“It depends,” You replied, giggling slightly at his focused gaze. “Is it you?”

“Maybe.” He said, raising a brow as he stared at you, feeling yourself suddenly sober up a bit as you realized he was being serious.

“Then I would say, hypothetically, that I like you too.” You answered, pulse picking up as you noticed his eyes flicker down to your lips, leaning in a little more.

The sound of a glass being dropped somewhere else across the room had shook you both out of your trance, reminding you that you weren't alone, scooting away quickly before anyone else noticed what had happened, or almost happened…

Neither of you had directly spoken about your conversation from that night, but there had definitely been a noticeable shift in your dynamic.

When you were out together, he would briefly catch hold of your hand as you wove through the crowded streets to keep you close. You always claimed the seat beside him, which had earned you a few curious glances from a couple of your other friends.

You weren’t exactly dating, but you definitely weren’t ‘just friends’ anymore. Due to the nature of your limbo state, however, there was also a slight sense of uneasiness, not quite knowing where the line lay between what was okay and what wasn’t anymore.

It had grown quiet as you’d gotten lost in your thoughts, contemplating whether or not to just bite the bullet and ask the dreaded ‘What is this?/What are we?’ question, but before you could decide, you felt a sudden droplet of water hit your hand, quickly followed by another on your cheek as you glanced up at the darkening sky.

“Aw, shit.” You grumbled, fumbling to pull your jacket hood over your head as it began to rain properly. “I thought it wasn’t supposed to start till later.”

“I told you.” He said, grinning as he sat back, not bothered in the least by the sudden weather change.

“You know, you’re one of the only people I know that actually likes getting caught in the rain.” You commented, watching him in amusement.

“Rain’s nice.” He said tilting his head back to let it fall on his face.

When he sat back up, something seemed to shift between you again as you made eye contact, feeling that familiar tense flutter in your stomach as his gaze flickered down to your lips.

Seized by a sudden surge of confidence, you leaned forward again, not breaking eye contact as you caught his shirt collar before pulling him down gently, connecting your lips.

For a split second, everything else seemed to fade out, the only thing you were aware of was the feel of Namjoon’s lips moving softly against yours.

Too soon, you pulled back, no more than an inch, feeling you and Joons’ breaths slip out in shaky exhales as his eyes slowly fluttered open to look at you.

“Do that again.” He whispered, hands coming up to hold your waist firmly, pulling you closer to him. “Please.”

At his plea, you immediately leaned in again. This time, the kiss was much more intense, teeth clashing and tongues moving against each other as your hands fumbled to find purchase on his shoulders, only breaking apart when your lungs started to burn from lack of oxygen.

“Fuck,” Namjoon sighed, leaning his forehead against your shoulder as he tried to catcht his breath. “I’ve wanted to do that for weeks.”

“Why didn’t you?” You asked.

“No idea.” He chuckled, pressing closer to you as a sudden breeze made you both shiver.

“It’s raining a lot.” You noted, taking in your dampening surroundings.

“Mhm.”

“We should probably head home.”

He groaned, pulling back reluctantly. “I don’t wanna let you go yet.” He said, pouting slightly.

“Who said you had to?” You asked.

He tilted his head at you questioningly.

“I said we should head home, I didn’t say it had to be alone.” You said, winding your hand into his.

“Oh, Okay.” He grinned.

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villainessprefect · 1 year

Note

Idia w/ a fem or gn s/o who’s cater’s introverted best friend (and they both share a love for spicy ramen lol) pls?

sorry for the late fic!! this came out shorter than the rest rip but I hope you still enjoy! I am unfortunately not a fan of anything spicy so I struggle here 😔 shout out to those who can handle the burning fires of hell in their mouth cuz I can't-

title: #a quick pic

summary: You and Idia enjoy ramen together, but first you have to send a pic to Cater.

ship: Idia x gn!reader

word count: 725

Read on AO3

Carefully, you hold your phone at just the right angle. Capturing the freshness of this steaming bowl of ramen without fogging your phone's camera proves to be more difficult than you imagined. You don't know how Cater does this without any effort. With a quick snap, he's done! Meanwhile, it feels like it takes you a whole minute to get a decent picture.

But you do. Or at least you think you do. You're still learning about the whole aesthetic about taking pictures from your best friend. Content with your pic, you set your phone down. A sigh from across the table captures your attention.

"I still don't get the point of taking pictures of food," Idia comments. Chopsticks are digging into his own bowl, mixing the broth to ensure the flavor will be in every bite. "It's not like it's any different from the last one we had. The bowls aren't even from a limited time event. It's such a normie thing to do."

"It's for Cater," you answer. Part of you agrees with him, you still didn't quite understand this whole trend. But another part of you is. Having something to look back to, something you can remember even if its just a picture is nice. "This is his favorite food, you know." And coincidentally, yours too.

You take this moment to post the image of your meal on your Magicam account. It's a barren post that lacks any description or hashtags, just a simple image so you wouldn't pop up in the search results. Regardless of your anonymity, a like instantly finds its way to your post within seconds.

"It's just food," Idia huffs. "Though, I guess it is pretty cool since you did make it..."

And he can't complain how they taste ten times better than a regular cup of noodles. This was the ultra rare edition! Not only made with fresh ingredients, but with gentle love and care. Anime always claimed food made by loved ones taste better and he understands why now. He doesn't linger on the thought for too long, but his hair gives him away.

"He's rubbing off on you."

"He is my bestie," you answer with a chuckle. "Don't worry, you're not in the picture if that's what you're worried about."

"I-I'm not!" He pouts before stabbing at his noodles, hitting nothing and resulting in broth jumping up. He decides to shut up and eat his food before anything else can escape him.

You flash him a small smile, watching as he dines on your meal. Unlike you, he opted for a more basic flavor. It lacked the spicy kick you loved, but you understood not everyone could handle the intense flavor. It was almost funny to consider that your boyfriend's hair was literally fire yet couldn't handle the same level of flames for food.

At least he's enjoying your ramen. That's all that matters to you.

Before eating, you decide to make a quick jump into your DMs with Cater. You send him a different picture, a recent one. It still contains the ramen you made, but that's not the focus. Rather, the one this picture captures is Idia. Noodles in perfect unison hang from his lips, captured as he slurps them up. It's cute in your eyes. Getting pictures of him with permission is always a struggle, whether it be you trying to bring it up or getting one where neither of you are flustered.

'Is this a good pic?'

'100%! so authentic u should post that one and tag him

#datenight #bestnoodlesinthehouse'

'you know I cant do that'

'wah!

date pics get you sooo many likes but i totes get it

keep sending me ur cute pics later

enjoy ur datesies bestie!'

"Your food is going to get cold."

"Ah!" The comment drags you out of the conversation with Cater and back to reality. You hadn't forgotten about it, just caught up in the conversation. With that out of the way, you dig into your meal.

It's hot. Both in freshness and flavor. The heat from the bowl fills your senses as you hover over it and the fiery burn from the sauces cover your tongue. The burning sensation leaves you hungry for more. It's a shame you can't share a spicy love with Idia, but at least your bestie could understand it.

#twisted wonderland #idia shroud #twisted wonderland x reader #idia shroud x reader #gn reader #twst x reader #twst #idia shroud x you #ignihyde #cater diamond #request #anonymous stars

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 1 year

Text

Where the Love Light Gleams

A PEDROSTORIES SECRET SANTA GIFT FIC

A/N: Huge thank you to @pedrostories for organizing this event! I had so much fun coming up with and writing this one, and I cannot wait to read all the other stories that come from this gift exchange.

Gift Tag: @haylzcyon - who requested either Frankie or Marcus with a cozy night at home either playing board & video games, or relaxing in a blanket fort with snacks and honestly? Both options sound ideal. But I ended up going with Marcus, the sweetest fictional man on fictional earth. Happy Holidays, Hayley! I hope you enjoy this story and that your holiday season is full of nothing but warmth and love!

WC: 2,438

Summary: When the weather throws a monkey wrench in your holiday travel plans and traditions, keeping you from being home for Christmas, Marcus takes things into his own hands and makes the best out of the situation.

By the time you got home from work on the Friday before Christmas, the snow was coming down even harder than was predicted on the forecast that morning. And even that wasn’t looking great for our flight tomorrow. The winter storm that was slowly making its way down the coast from Boston was set to mingle with another system that was currently wreaking havoc in the Midwest. As a result, several airlines had already started the domino effect of delays and cancellations. And I heard Denver International is already on a temporary ground stop. Which is never good news.

Though you hadn’t checked your flight status in a few hours, you had a pretty solid idea of what it would say when you did. With the amount of snow already on the ground in both D.C. and Denver, and with the decreased visibility that accompanied the storms, it was all but certain that your holiday travel plans would be grounded, too. And that… sucks. The thought that you wouldn’t be able to make the trip home for the first time since you’d moved away saddened you - but it was missing out on your favorite holiday tradition with your siblings that you were even more upset about. First time for everything I guess.

It had been going strong for nearly twenty years, and even as the four of you got older - graduating high school, going away to college and moving out of the house you grew up in and starting lives of your own - not one of you had even thought about discontinuing it. Every year on Christmas Eve, after dinner was done and the dishes all cleaned up, the four of you would head into the basement and set to work gathering blankets and pillows, moving chairs and other furniture and finding stray strands of lights to build a fort. When it was finished, you’d send someone back upstairs to grab snacks - cookies and hot chocolate when you were younger giving way to salty snacks and spiked nog or hot toddies as you got older - while the rest of you chose a movie or two to watch. Snacks acquired and spots claimed in the fort, you’d dim the overhead lights, settle in, and spend the night staying up as late as you could with the Grinch and Frosty, George Bailey, Rudolph, Buddy the Elf and the miraculous Macy’s on 34th. Not this year, though.

You groaned as you closed the car door with a thud, a chunk of translucent, half melted snow sliding down the window and hitting the ground with a wet plop. It sent a splash of icy slush onto your pant leg, the cold seeping through the material to bite at your skin. Ugh. Perfect. You scowled, shaking what you could from your shoe before it could slide into your sock. Just perfect.

Taking a deep breath as fat flakes collected in your hair and burned up on your cheeks, you adjusted the strap of your bag and let out a sigh as you began heading up your driveway. Even though the weather was dampening your spirits, you felt a sense of comfort as you walked past Marcus’ car. He’s home early. If there was a silver lining to every cloud, then getting to spend the next three days with him - uninterrupted - was this one. Last year he had been working a case that kept him overseas through the end of December, so you’d made the trip home by yourself and had to settle for a video chat to wish Marcus a Merry Christmas. At least I’ll be able to wake up with him this year.

In spite of the disappointment that was mounting with the snowfall, and the waning possibility of getting to see your family for the holidays, you felt a small smile curve your lips as you caught a glimpse of him in the window. He looked up and waved just as you ducked under the low hanging, snow-laden branches of the pear tree that stood near your porch steps, and that was all it took to send a rush of warmth through your body that was almost enough to make you forget about the melted ice soaking into your sock. I love this man so much.

Taking the steps carefully so as not to slip on the ice that was forming faster than the salt that Marcus had sprinkled over them could work to keep it at bay, you reached for the front door only for him to open it for you before you could. “Hey you.” Heated air hit your snow-kissed cheeks, followed by the brush of his lips as one arm wrapped around your waist to pull you fully inside. “Glad you’re home.” Me too. Peering past your eyes and back out through the window, his mouth turned downward into a slight frown. “It’s starting to get kind of bad out there.”

“It is.” You wound your arms around his neck and rose on your toes to kiss him. “It’s gross out.” Wrinkling your nose as you pulled back, you groaned. “I haven’t checked with the airline yet, but-” The hiss of air that he sucked through his teeth as he gave a shake of his head told you that he had looked, and that it was as you expected. Damn.

“I’m sorry.” He frowned again, sympathy written all over his expression as he brought one hand up to sweep snow from your hair before settling both palms at your waist. “I know you were looking forward to this trip.”

Trying your best not to let him see how much it bothered you, you gently removed yourself from his hold. “It’s okay.” You unzipped your coat and shrugged out of it, turning to hang it and your purse on the hooks by the front door. “Can’t control the weather, right? Besides-” Using the toe of one shoe, you stepped on the heel of the other to take it off your foot, then did the same with the opposite side, kicking the pair off and bending down to place them on the shoe rack next to Marcus’ black boots. When you stood, he was watching you with his arms crossed over his chest, the chocolate brown waffle knit pullover that he wore stretched tight across his shoulders and biceps. “It’s not just the weather here that’s preventing flights, there’s a blizzard out west, too, so…it’s just not in the cards this year.” You exhaled slowly through your nose, placing your hands on his stacked forearms and uncrossing them. “I am glad that I get to spend Christmas with you, though.”

At that he beamed, his bright white smile on full display as he nodded. “Yeah. I am, too.” Leaning down, he caught your lips with his, pressing a kiss there that lingered long enough for him to take the bottom one between his teeth and grinning around it. Oh, shit. You gasped into the kiss, which only made his grin grow as he released you. Bumping his nose to yours, he kept his voice low and continued. “Very glad.”

Your hands came to rest on his shoulders as you opened your eyes to look up at him, heart racing as it always did when he kissed you. It’s always been like that, from the very beginning and… and I think it always will be. You didn’t like to get ahead of yourself because you respected the fact that Marcus had rushed things in the past and didn’t want to do that with you. But the longer you were together - and you were coming up on two years - the less it felt like rushing. It just feels… right.

Before you could say anything though, he noticed that the bottom of your right pant leg and that sock were soaked through from where you got sludge-splashed, and he suggested that you go take a hot shower to warm up and relax after a long week at work. Oh, that actually sounds amazing right now. You hummed a response, telling him that you wouldn’t be too long. He answered with “Take your time. I’ll be down here,” and you headed upstairs to follow his suggestion.

– – –

Standing under the hot water had done the trick of warming you up and helping you decompress, and when you stepped out of the shower and swiped a hand across the mirror to clear the steamy condensation, you genuinely felt a little better even though you were still bummed about your plans being plowed. I hope the rest of them are still able to get together even if Marcus and I can’t make it. You’d been looking forward to welcoming him into your tradition the same way that your brother had with his now wife a few years back. As you dried off you smiled to yourself, recalling the amused look Marcus wore the previous Christmas when you answered his FaceTime call from inside the fort. Next year. You wrapped the towel around your body before making your way into your bedroom to find a pair of cozy sweats and one of Marcus’ long sleeve tees. He’ll get to see it for himself next year.

You took a few minutes to finish getting dressed, pulling on a pair of thick, fuzzy socks to ensure that you would be as warm as possible while the snow continued to fall outside, and then you padded back down the stairs to find Marcus. He’s probably in the kitchen. The two of you had planned on ordering take out for dinner so you wouldn’t have to cook and then clean the kitchen before leaving for the weekend. But since the weather had gotten considerably worse than you had expected it to, neither of you would have felt right ordering and making someone else deliver in the snow. And it’s not like we’re going anywhere, so cooking is fine. But as you reached the kitchen to see if Marcus had any ideas, you found it empty. Hmm.

Just then there was a soft thud coming from the spare room down the hall - the one you’d turned into a combination T.V. room and library. Found you. Wondering what he was doing in there that could have caused the noise, you went to find out for yourself, stopping in your tracks as soon as you got to the door. Eyes widening, you brought one hand up to cover your mouth in surprise. Oh.

There in the room stood a perfectly constructed blanket fort, the walls made from sheets and chairs, and the floor of it covered in pillows from the couch, your bed, and even the extras from the linen closet. The ceiling was hung from the curtain rod to give it a peaked tent-like shape, and the lights that had been tacked up around the window frame had been taken down, and were currently in the process of being repurposed as ambient lighting running down the draped fabric on the outside of it. Oh, Marcus.

He was standing on a stepstool, back to the door, and he hadn’t noticed your presence, still busy with what he was doing. When you called his name, the emotion in your voice caused it to waver. Because he… he did this for me. “M- Marcus?”

He turned three quarters of the way to face you at the sound of his name, and when he did your heart skipped at the sight in front of you. He did this for me because he knows how important that tradition is to me. He did this for me because he loves me and…

His parted lips formed a quick smile that brightened his eyes, stubbled cheeks growing round as a small chuckle slipped out. “Oh, hey.” He had one arm still raised to hold up the string of lights, the position of it pulling the bottom hem of his shirt up so that a strip of his abdomen was visible. “You were quicker than I thought you’d be.” With a sheepish shrug, he tucked the end of the wire that he was holding into place around the curtain rod and hopped down from the step ladder that he’d placed next to the wall. “Was hoping to have this all set up, and I was almost done, but…” Trailing off, he took a step closer to where you stood, and you felt his eyes rove over your face. For a fleeting second you saw hesitance in them, and you knew it was because he had second guessed his decision to surprise you. But he shouldn’t. He swallowed. “What, uh…” He tilted his head to the side. “What do you think?”

You knew there was no way to stop the tears from slipping from your eyes, but you wouldn’t try to stop them even if you could. Because they’re happy tears. I’m… You glanced beyond his shoulder at the fort he’d built in the short time you’d been upstairs and then met his eyes again. He makes me so damn happy. “Marcus.” Wasting no time at all, you took his face between your palms and kissed him, feeling his little intake of breath as he kissed you back. “I think I’m the luckiest woman on Earth. You… you didn’t have to-”

“I wanted to.” He slid one arm around your waist and turned so that he was standing side by side with you, both of you looking at the pile of pillows, blankets and furniture he’d set up. “I know how much this tradition means to you and… I know it’s not the same. You’re not home with your family, but… ” He tightened his hold on you and you rested your head on his shoulder. “But I thought we could still keep the tradition alive even if it's long distance.”

Taking a breath, you picked your head up and turned to face him. “It’s perfect. Thank you.” Winding your arms around him, you leaned into his chest as he returned the embrace. While he was preoccupied with the hug, you used the hand closest to the wall to flip the light switch, dousing the light coming from the floor lamp and the one on the end table, leaving only the soft glow of the string lights.

He hummed, pulling back to look at you, and then over at his handiwork. “Should we check it out?”

You laughed, a few tears still trickling down your cheek as you nodded. “Yeah.” He turned, lacing his fingers with yours and you let him tug you towards the opening of the fabric. “We should definitely check it out, Marcus.”

Thank you for reading! If you would like to be added to or removed from my taglist, please feel free to let me know by sending a message or by filling out the form on my masterlist :)

tags: @something-tofightfor @littlemisspascal @mishasminion360 @nyctophiliiiiaaa @alraedesigns @practicalghost @tanzthompson @amb11 @harriedandharassed @woodlandmouth @swtaura @thescarletfang @trickstersp8 @princessxkenobi @imtryingmybeskar @wildmoonflower @mswarriorbabe80 @theredwritingwitch @silverstarsandsuns

#pedrostories secret santa #pedrostoriesgift22 #marcus pike x female reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike the mentalist #marcus pike fanfiction #where the love light gleams

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