#look all women he knows are ready to throw down in half a second

[suashii]

— 𝒶 𝓃𝑒𝓌 𝓎𝑜𝓊 ౨ৎ

okkotsu yuta x f!reader. 3k wc. ﾉ smut ﾉ nsfw (mdni) ﾉ characters aged 21+ ﾉ oral (f!receiving) ﾉ face sitting :3 ﾉ clothed sex ﾉ subby yuta ﾉ reader is a little mean at moments ﾉ jealousy

you can’t say that you normally time how long it takes yuta to answer his door but you can say that it never takes this long. you add the oddity to your growing mental list titled: “ways yuta has changed since having sex for the first time.” it’s not one you ever saw yourself making but life has a way of throwing curveballs at people and this seems to be the one pitched to you. 

maybe yuta feels a bit different these days, but he’s still yuta. you’re sure you’ll get used to this new version of him soon enough.

a few more long seconds pass before you hear footsteps on the other side of the door and the barrier swings open, revealing yuta in all his glory.

“so you are home,” you comment with a smile upon finally being met with the sight of him. you don’t see him as often these days and the fact makes you sadder than you’d like to admit. so, you soak him in silently—the perpetual dark crescents beneath his eyes, the dark hair that hangs over the left side of his forehead, the way his hand almost unconsciously always finds its way to rest on his neck.

“sorry, sorry,” he apologizes with that familiar, sheepish grin of his. at least some things never change. “come in.”

the way he ushers you in and leads you back to his bedroom leads you to believe that you unintentionally interrupted him. he’s thumbing through the shirts in his closet when you come to stand by his bed and ask, “did i catch you in the middle of something?”

“oh, i’m heading out later so i was just getting ready.” you stop yourself from getting comfortable on his mattress at his response, although, when he turns around with a button up in hand, he uses his other to wave the misunderstanding away. “you can hang out though.”

“where are you going?” you ask him, plopping down on his bed. the scent lingering on his pillowcase and sheets is fresh like he just washed the bedding. however, you can still pick out a hint of the fragrance he wears regularly—warm and just a little woody.

“out for drinks,” he tells you. he’s in the process of trading out the t-shirt he’s been lounging in for the one he just picked out when your silence finally registers. a look over his shoulder at you is enough to tell him that the answer doesn’t satisfy you. the expression you’re wearing is telling—like you know there’s more that he chose not to say. it doesn’t seem like you’re backing down, either. with your silent prompting, he adds, “with a girl.”

“another date?” you have to stop yourself from frowning. “didn’t you go out with some other chick over the weekend?”

this is exactly why you haven’t seen him lately—he’s so busy meeting women and taking them home to fuck that he barely has time to spare for you. you’ve always thought that if he’s happy, you will be, too, but you have to admit that that isn’t the case. it’s worrying—how quickly he went from such a timid guy with no sexual experience to one who’s getting laid every three days.

you aren’t sure if this is coming from a place of concern for the girls crossing paths with him or if the whole fuckboy persona is beginning to become offputting to you, but you find yourself asking, “and they all know this is casual? that you’re seeing other girls two days after you hook up with them?”

“it sounds bad when you put it like that…” he starts, fingers fiddling with the buttons of his shirt. he’s only gotten around to fastening the bottom half of them, leaving the unblemished skin of his chest on display. “but yeah, we’re all on the same page.”

it’s still hard to believe that the shy little yuta you’ve come to know has turned over a promiscuous new leaf. it would be one thing if he simply lost his virginity and settled down with one partner but the extent of his sexual activities has truly surprised you. a question comes to mind—one that you normally wouldn’t ask your other friends but an important one considering yuta only just started sleeping around. “you’re getting tested, right?”

the question doesn’t phase him the way you think it will. you expect his eyes to widen and a furious red to overtake his cheeks and the tips of his ears but neither happens. he simply nods. “yes, of course.”

“and you’re wearing condoms?” you follow up.

“mm-mm.” he shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair, the dark strands falling back into place. “who knows how many women i’ve gotten pregnant by now.”

you can’t hide the disbelief that paints your features—the way your mouth hangs open and your unblinking gaze glued on the man before you. the shock of his words makes it difficult to find your voice and you’re sure it comes out higher than usual when you finally do. “yuta, you cannot—“

“i’m joking!” he exclaims with a wide smile. it shrinks into something smaller when he sees how serious you are. “yes, i am wearing condoms. jeez, what’s with the third degree?”

“it’s nothing, just wanna make sure you’re being safe.” you had planned on sticking around until it was time for him to leave but the thought of staying here while he’s getting ready to see—to fuck—someone else isn’t a pleasant one. you swing your legs over the side of his bed and stand up, making your way to the door. “i’m leaving. have fun fucking your flavor of the day.”

“wait, wait, wait.” yuta reaches out to grab your arm. his calloused grip is warm and firm, though, you’re sure you could pull away if you wanted to—he’s made sure of that much. despite that, you don’t. “you aren’t jealous, are you?”

“wow,” you scoff and turn to face him. there’s a sparkling glint in his eyes, one that has no place being there. “you have seriously let this inflate your ego.”

your comment doesn’t offend him, doesn’t hurt him the way you secretly wished it would. instead, his thumb glides against your wrist, runs over your pulse as he leans down closer to you. his voice comes out just above a whisper. “you aren’t curious? not even a little?”

“not everyone wants you, yuta.” you finally pull your hand back. “someone should really put you in your place.”

your words put a smile on his face. “are you volunteering?”

you have no idea what’s gotten into him, why he’s poking you like a bear and looking for a reaction, but his incessant goading has done its job. reflexively, almost without a thought, your hands come up to shove the broad chest before you. yuta stumbles back and his legs hit the mattress, causing him to fall back against it.

for the first time since you walked in, shock washes over yuta’s face the moment you begin to approach him. you find yourself crawling on the bed and straddling him, your hands pressing into the mattress on either side of his head. his lips are parted now and they only seal when he swallows the lump lodged in his throat.

it’s almost enough to make you laugh—how quickly his tune changed from confident to a bundle of nerves. you guess this has yet to happen to him, not being the one who’s calling the shots, that is. maybe you aren’t quite laughing, but it does make a grin stretch across your lips.

“what happened, yuta?” you ask him, sitting back on your calves. you lift your hand and bring it to his face, letting your finger drag along the curve of his jaw. it may just be your imagination, but you swear you can feel him shiver at your touch. “you were practically begging for this just a second ago. but if you changed your mind, i’ll get up and go.”

“no.” he shakes his head, the hair against his comforter growing frizzy with the careless movement. his hands come up to rest on your hips. “please stay.”

“ah-ah.” you knock his hands away and panic flashes over the man’s face. “no touching. you have to earn that.”

he swallows thickly and gazes up at you with curiosity swimming in his eyes. “h-how?”

“be good for me,” you tell him, the grin apparent in your voice. you brush the stray strands of hair away from his face before leaning down just like yuta had to you only moments earlier. this time, you’re sure that he shivers when your whispered voice tickles him as you ask, “tell me what you want me to do.”

your fingernails graze over his exposed skin—down his neck, over his shoulders, along his collarbone, anywhere you reach. it’s meant to be no more than a way to keep you busy while you wait for a reply from yuta, but he seems to enjoy the touch and the way goosebumps raise following the drag of your nails. although his quiet moans are easy on the ears, it’s a bit boring for your taste. your hand slows on its path in search of an answer. “hmm?”

you’re almost convinced that his voice is stuck in his throat when his request finally fills the air. “k-kiss me, please.”

you waste no time fulfilling his wish, brushing your lips over the same spots your fingers had just been, stopping every now and then to press them down in soft kisses. they grow deeper as you traverse against his smooth skin, love bites marking the once spotless canvas. by the time you make your way up to his lips, your kiss is hungry, almost desperate on your end and his—like the both of you have been silently waiting for this time to come.

as much as you enjoy yuta’s pillowy lips against yours and the way he melts for you when your tongue slips past them, you have a desire for more. you keep that bit to yourself so as not to feed yuta’s existing albeit dormant cockiness, though, you are willing to nudge him in the right direction.

you pull back from the kiss, still close enough that yuta can feel your breath when you speak. “don’t tell me all you want is for me to kiss you. there must be something else…”

there are a lot of things that come to mind, a lot of things yuta has dreamt of doing with you, but one rises above the rest. he can only hope that you’re willing to indulge him. “would you…” his voice trails off as he turns his head to the side, avoiding your gaze.

“go ahead,” you start, grabbing his chin and turning his head so that he’s looking at you, “ask me.”

he’s never felt this hesitant before but none of the women he’s slept with have been you. they’ve never made him ask for what he wants, patiently waited until he verbalized his desires. and he hasn’t wanted that, no, not from them. as foreign as the task is, he’ll do it if that means finally getting a taste of you.

despite the warmth spreading over his cheeks, yuta forces himself to hold your eye. “can you—can you please sit on my face?”

hearing the words pass his lips makes your heart jump in your chest. the goal had been to get him to admit what he craved the most but part of you believed that yuta was still holding onto his old ways, too bashful and shy to come clean about his needs. perhaps you’re holding onto a version of him that he’s left behind for good, though, you want to see for yourself. “you really want me to?”

“god, yes, please.” his fingers dig into the comforter beneath him in an attempt to keep from touching you like you told him even though he’s itching to. he’ll be patient, be good, for you. “i want to taste you so bad.”

shy little yuta really is gone.

but you suppose it isn’t all that bad.

you crawl forward over him to situate yourself. his breath is warm against your bare thighs and it makes your skin prickle. you hike the skirt you’re wearing up your legs so the fabric doesn’t obstruct your view of his face—you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to see the show.

“you aren’t going to take off your panties?” yuta asks. he’s only inches away now and he’s sure if he tilted his head up just a little bit, he’d be able to stick his tongue out and reach you.

you shake your head with a smile. “i’ll tell you when you can move them. you can lick me through them for now.”

there’s a complaint ready on the tip of his tongue about how he wants to taste and feel you—only you, but he bites it back, figuring that you’ll revoke your generosity entirely if he seems ungrateful. patience, he reminds himself. if he’s patient, he’ll have all of you soon enough.

he wets his lips before diving in, tongue sloppily licking at the layer of cotton keeping him from you. despite the barrier, he can make out your landmarks—the lips he’s wishing his tongue could slip between and your clit that he desperately wants to suck on. even though it isn’t quite what he was expecting, he eats you out through your panties like a man starved.

the fabric is soaked through now and if it weren’t for the hint of you on his tongue, yuta would wonder whether it was his spit or your arousal leaving a darkened spot on your panties. the thought that he got you wound up enough to soak through your underwear oddly fills him with a sense of pride—feeds the ego you claimed he had earlier. he had brushed it off then but it’s hard to ignore now considering that you’re the woman he’s wanted to do this with for the longest.

yuta is a lot more talented with his tongue than you anticipated he would be. you can’t remember the last time someone drew such satisfied noises from you—sharp gasps that you suck in whenever he happens to brush against your clit and musical moans that fill the room when he finds that magical rhythm. you’re beyond pleased with his performance, but an unwelcome thought nags at the back of your mind as the man eats you out; just how many women did it take him tongue-fucking for it to feel this good? you know you shouldn’t say it, but you voice your thoughts anyway. the question comes out breathy, “did you learn to use your tongue like this on all those other girls?”

“they–” he starts, licking you once more before continuing, “they were all practice for you.”

the ache between your thighs grows all the stronger with his confession. you don’t doubt the sincerity of his words—if there’s one thing that you know yuta will never abandon, it’s his honesty. you can admit to yourself that you were jealous earlier, jealous of all the women yuta decided to sleep with instead of you. the envy has all but dissipated now that you know you’ve always been the object of his affection.

“push them to the side,” you tell him hurriedly. yuta doesn’t waste a second following your command, hooking a finger on your panties to drag them to the side. your glistening wetness is hypnotizing and if he wasn’t already salivating this sight would surely be enough to have him drooling. he thinks he could stare at your pretty pussy all day but what he really wants is for you to come on his tongue.

before you know it, he’s lapping at you like your arousal is the very water that he needs to survive. there’s saliva running down his chin as he savors the taste of you. the vibration of his moans against you serves as a means to work you up even more, moans and whimpers of your own bubbling up from your chest.

it’s nearly impossible for you not to grind down on him, to ride his face like there’s no tomorrow. yuta doesn’t mind being trapped between your thighs, only being able to breathe in your heavenly scent and taste your honey-like essence. his tongue glides between your folds, teasing your entrance with each up on down.

“ride my tongue,” yuta’s muffled voice sounds from below you. “use me to come.”

and you do, rocking your hips against his face in rhythm with the salacious movement of his tongue. each flick of the muscle is a drop in your cup that’s filled to the brim, threatening to spill over and flood at any moment. all it takes are a few swirls of his tongue around your sensitive pearl for a wave of pleasure to wash over you. your thighs tremble with your orgasm and your back arches as the aftershocks ripple through you all while yuta continues to languidly stroke your cunt.

he hums against you as you come down from your high, leaving a kiss on your clit before telling you, “you taste so good.”

the compliment makes your heart flutter. “you think so?”

he nods, or at least tries to from his place between your legs. “the best i’ve ever had.”

“well then i guess it’s only fair for me to return the favor,” you suggest, letting your head loll to the side. you can practically see the gears turning in yuta’s head but he doesn’t speak up to question you, instead, waiting for your clarification. “what do you say; want me to suck you off?”

thanks for reading! reblogs + comments are greatly appreciated :))

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: jujutsu kaisen #yuta okkotsu x reader #yuta x reader #yuuta x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yuta x you #jjk x you #yuta smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #yuta drabble #jjk drabbles #𐙚 after hours

[seresinhangmanjake]

Not Your Type: Part 2

Jake Seresin x goth girl!reader

Summary: Jake Seresin doesn’t usually have to try hard to get women, but the only woman to catch his attention in a long time doesn’t want anything to do with him.

Written in the form of sharing milestones of their relationship as it develops. For example - Day 1: the day they meet; Day 3x: the day they (...); Day 5xx: the day they (...); and so on.

Notes/Warnings: Jake being annoying but also desperate. Cursing.

Words: 2990

Full Masterlist

Day 14:

“What do we want for this round, girls?” Gemma asks. She stands, albeit a tad unsteadily, at the edge of your booth with her hands on her hips, ready to take your order as if the Hard Deck provides her with biweekly paychecks. 

She’s been in California all of three days; she and Lola—friends from your hometown who were in desperate need of a change of scenery and accepted the offer of your extra bedrooms. And as usual, Gemma effortlessly embraced her new environment within the first twenty-four hours of her arrival. To onlookers, you imagine that of the three of you, she would be the assumed local.

“More of this fruity stuff, whatever it is,” Lola says around the thin straw clenched between her teeth as she nurses the current ‘fruity stuff’ in her glass.

Gemma looks to you with a raised brow, but you shake your head, tapping your nail against your soda cup. “I’m good.”

“Party pooper,” she playfully sighs, flipping a section of deep purple hair over her shoulder and turning in the direction of the bar.

Getting the drinks was meant to be your job—a welcoming treat after their exhausting move—but Gemma got a peek at the bartender, and by exercising the magical abilities that come with her smile, has spent half the night providing the three of you with free alcohol and fountain sodas.

“I’m the DD!” you call after her, but as is the case on most Friday nights at the Hard Deck, the volume of the room devours your voice before it can reach her.

“She’s gonna go after that bartender the second his shift is over,” Lola tells you. “Poor guy has no idea who he’s dealing with.”

“No,” you agree, chuckling and rapidly recalling the string of heartbroken men who would reach out to you or Lola in the hopes of getting ahold of Gemma after she’d ghosted them. “But they never do, and unfortunately, they never learn.” 

“You know, I’ve been told I’m a phenomenal learner,” you hear, but it’s a much deeper sound than the curly-haired woman at your side is able to produce. The unexpected addition makes the sip of soda in your mouth travel down the wrong pipe, throwing you into a coughing fit. 

“Oh, shit,” the voice rushes out, snatching a napkin from the next booth and thrusting it in your face. You take it to muffle the sharp choking noises fighting their way out of your windpipe. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You scold yourself for not realizing he was here before he made himself known. It was almost two hours ago that you began feeling that same burning sensation from a couple of weeks ago, but you thought little of it, having scanned the room for him when you first arrived at the bar. You even opted to sit facing the front door, figuring you wouldn’t miss it if he entered, but he still managed to sneak in. He still found you. He still affects you.

As you recover your breathing, he extends his hand past you toward Lola. “I’m Jake.”

“Lola,” she replies, shaking his hand as she glances at you.

You let out a final cough, dabbing a napkin at the corner of your mouth then wiping it just under your waterline to pick up your tears. “Fuck,” you mumble.

“Name a time and a place, sweetheart, and I’m all yours.”

Lola snorts with her lips around her straw. Her following giggle makes air bubbles burst from her shallow glass. Stray droplets splash onto the table, a few soaking into the sleeve of your top.

You have no time to decide who is more deserving of your glare—Traitor Friend or Ken Doll—before Gemma’s return. As she slides into the seat opposite yours, she’s so focused on keeping liquids from sloshing over rims that she doesn’t notice the intruder. 

“Fruity thing for Lo,” she pushes the glass to Lola who eagerly accepts a fresh drink, “spicy thing for me, and, tragically, nothing for the DD.” 

When she finally senses the vibe at the table—greatly altered from what she left behind a few minutes prior—she turns her head. The surprise in her expression settles into subtle excitement as she rakes her eyes up Jake’s body to his face. With that wicked smile of hers, she plants her elbow on the wooden surface and rests her chin atop the back of her hand. 

“And what would you like?” she teases in a low, seductive tone.

“Just a chance to talk with your verbally vicious friend,” he says, jutting his chin in your direction. 

“This is Jake,” Lola informs her. 

“Jake?” Gemma questions you, cocking her head in genuine curiosity. “You’ve never mentioned a Jake.”

“He isn’t worth mentioning.”

Jake smirks through the jab. “You know, you don’t have to repeatedly stab me in the chest.”

“You’re the one who keeps standing in front of my knife,” you shoot back, crossing your arms.

There’s not a single uttering from the group of four as Lola and Gemma stare at you and Jake staring at each other. Neither of you is willing to break eye contact, and the tension becomes heavy, like rich honey—thick enough to drag your finger through. 

“Can we talk privately?” Jake then asks, that smirk still in place. He looks away from you only to address your friends. “You ladies don’t mind if I borrow her, do you?”

“Not at all,” Gemma answers, each word out of her mouth a little less crisp than the last. “As long as you borrow me next.”

“Gemma!” you snap. “Not this one.”

“But he’s so hot,” she whines.

“I’ll cut you off.”

She gasps. Then her bottom lip protrudes in a pout, and her hands cradle her glass as she pulls it closer to her chest protectively.

“That’s a very flattering offer, if we can call it that,” Jake says. “However, that guy over there, the one with the outdated mustache,” he steps aside and points to the friend you recognize from the other night. The brunet’s cheeks redden and he quickly jerks his head in the opposite direction of Gemma’s prying gaze. “He’s been having a hell of a time trying to keep his eyes off you tonight. Just can’t help himself.” 

Jake shakes his head, clicks his tongue, and faces your table again. “Honestly, I know the feeling,” he says. His eyes connect with yours, puzzle pieces locking together until the burn starts to sear too deep and you have to look away. “It’s a tough spot to be in,” he continues. “And I can’t in good conscience move in on the girl whose laugh has made another man blush three times within the last hour.”

Just like that, Gemma is over Jake. Other than the pang of relief you feel, you don’t think anything of her swift attention shift until five seconds, then ten, then fifteen pass without her ceasing her careful examination of Jake’s friend. 

“Will you come with me?” Jake asks you. “I promise I won’t keep you long.” 

You chew on your lip, trying to ignore his pull.

“Lola, you think she should come with me, right?” he says.

Lola doesn’t glance his way as she runs her finger along the rim of her glass to collect the leftover grains of sugar. “Secondary locations are very suspicious, Jake,” she says before pressing her fingertip onto her tongue. 

“We won't go far.”

Lola raises a brow at you and you sigh. “He's annoying but I'm pretty sure he's safe,” you tell her.

Jake smiles; another thing you don’t have to see to know it’s there. You feel that grin just from its power alone.

Standing, you straighten out your skirt, your fingers running down the dark material that flares from mid-waist to mid-thighs. Your belt is purely decorative, with consecutive overlapping chains that wrap around the band of your skirt and a tiny, crescent moon charm that dangles a bit lower than the rest. As you adjust the belt so the charm rests where it is supposed to at your hip, you catch Jake’s fixed stare on your movements. 

You don’t know what he’s thinking. You remind yourself that you don’t care.

“I'll be back in a minute, Lo,” you promise. “Gem, do you intend to blink any time soon?”

Gemma doesn’t turn. Jake’s friend has found a bit of boldness and no longer avoids her eyes. “No,” she says, waving you off. “Have fun.”

Jake tucks his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I was thinking the deck since it's on the beach.”

Ignoring his suggestion, you begin to walk in the direction of the front door. He follows into the chill of Evening’s breeze and you suck in a refreshing breath. Was it always so suffocating in there? 

“Ok, what do you want?” you ask once you’ve walked far enough to avoid blocking the entrance.

Jake remains a good six feet from you. His hands haven’t left his pockets. “To apologize, for starters,” he says.

“For?”

“Bothering you the other night.”

“So you decided to bother me again tonight?”

Jake’s lips part to respond, but he pauses, mouth snapping shut. Glancing down at the gravel by your boots, his brow pinches as his actions sink in. “Ok, ‘bother’ wasn't really what I was going for a second time around, but in hindsight–”

“If that was just your starter, what’s the rest?”

He looks at you with a tick of false innocence that rapidly dies under the weight of mischievousness, and you prepare yourself for what he’s about to deliver. “Maybe I shouldn’t say,” he teases, smile budding, teeth showing. “Maybe I should prolong the suspense.”

You fold your arms over your chest. “Do you remember what I said about wasting my time?”

“Something about my ego suffering the consequences,” he replies. “Even though you’ve had my ego in a choke-hold since you threw around that whole ‘I’ve noticed you but you’ve never noticed me’ thing.”

That, you didn’t expect. You didn’t expect him to remember everything you’d said, or care. But neither did you expect him to approach you after that night, so you suppose he’s full of surprises. You're just not sure if you like them. 

“Oh?”

He nods. “Yea, that one…that one was a thinker, for sure. Haven’t been able to stop thinking about it, actually.”

“Why?”

He sighs and drops eye contact. Like it’s too hard to maintain. Like he’s ashamed or confused or contemplating, or all three. Then he wets his bottom lip with a dart of his tongue; he draws that lip between his teeth, biting down; he barely shakes his head before he rejoins your gazes.

“Because I look at you now, and I don’t understand how it was possible,” he admits.

Your breath hitches. Your heartbeat trips, tumbling over itself, and you will it to find its proper pace before you dare open your mouth.

“Anyway,” Jake says to fill the gap that was meant for your response, “I also wanted to ask you out. On a date.”

You blink hard. Long beats snail along as you process the lunacy of that statement. “Has anything I've said to you indicated that I would ever agree to a date?”

He shrugs. “No, but it was either try once more and see if I have a chance with you, or don't try at all.”

For a man you’ve witnessed succeed in his every attempt at wooing women until you, you won’t deny that what he’s doing is gutsy and, you suppose, unworthy of being shamed. He’s resilient, determined, and you have great respect for perseverance, but in this case, it's not sufficient to rearrange your perception of him. 

“Do you even know my name?” you ask. “I never told you.”

He smiles; not broadly, not boastfully, but gently, sweetly, as if reliving a memory. “I asked Penny after you left that night,” he tells you. “It’s beautiful. Suits you.”

Your woven arms tighten, pointed nails digging into your bicep. Don’t shiver, you command your body. Don’t show the tingling chill he just shot up your spine and through your limbs. You try swallowing through the ghost-like grip he suddenly has on your throat. The light grasp of wispy fingers that don’t aim to choke, but simply rest around the column. Possessive but not controlling. Also not really there. And you don’t appreciate the growing strength of his power to touch you without you being within reaching distance.

The problem is, men don’t compliment you. Well, they do, but not like this. They compliment tits and ass and legs and face. They compliment clothes that they imagine ripping off, and makeup they hope they can ruin by the end of the night. Your name doesn’t often come to mind, and the ones who do ask for it, don’t ever use it again. That’s part of why you didn’t give it to Jake when he had asked. 

And then he went over your head. Fuck this guy.

“Before you say anything else—I’m willing to earn it.”

Your brows raise halfway up your forehead. “You're willing to earn it,” you repeat. “Why? You don't know me, and I have a feeling you understand that using me to prove some kind of point to yourself or your friends will only get you castrated.”

“I wouldn't have guessed castration, specifically, but that does seem in character,” he says.

He steps closer. His arm moves toward you, hand prepared to plant itself on your forearm, but at the last second, he thinks better of it and drops that limb back to his side. His fingers ball into a fist that tightens and loosens and tightens and loosens. He doesn’t know that you see him doing it, and then it stops. “Look, when you said that you're not my type, you were right. You were right. You're not right anymore. You only weren't my type because I'd never seen you before.” He takes a breath. “But I know I could swear that up and down, right here, right now, and you wouldn't believe me; not really; maybe not at all. So I have to prove it, don't I? I have to earn it.”

He seems to have forgotten that you know, and have known, who he is for months. Observation reveals more about a person than getting to know them firsthand. The Observed can’t pick and choose what they share with you to aid their desires and goals. In their cluelessness, they lose all defenses, all illusions, and Jake is no exception.

You’ve watched him pursue and flirt and conquer. You’ve watched him in the aftermath of the pursuing and flirting and conquering. You’ve watched his strategy of radiating cockiness to draw them in. There are the laughs, the winks, the tamed touches that bring out blushes, all of which join together until it’s the woman—and all of the near carbon copies of that woman—who takes the lead, pulling him into the bathroom or onto the back deck or out the front door. He’s tricky like that, but you’re not easily tricked.

“Have you considered that maybe you are not my type?” you ask. 

“I have, actually. It was a very troubling thirty seconds.”

“Thirty seconds of consideration?” Your head tilts. “Is that all?”

Jake acknowledges the offense you’ve taken. He doesn’t apologize but the disappointment in himself is palpable enough to satisfy you. But then he says, “Would you have come out here if you weren't attracted to me?”

And now you’re disappointed in yourself, because, no, you wouldn’t have come with him if you weren’t attracted to him. Attraction and curiosity convinced you more than his words, and therein lies the problem. One problem. One of many. 

“I shouldn't have.”

“But you did,” he says. His tone is low but it packs the punch of an exclamation point. You’re going to be hearing it for days. “Doesn’t that count for something?”

You sigh and let your arms unweave, falling at your sides. “I…” you begin, but you shake your head. You need to say this right. “Attraction is basic. It’s human. It’s all up in our personal space at all times. If that counted for anything, I’d be dating half of the usuals in the bar.”

You know the same goes for him. He finds a new woman to be attracted to whenever he walks into the Hard Deck and you’d be hard-pressed to believe that doesn’t extend to every room he enters. So you leave it at that and twist on your heel to head back inside. 

You hear a crunch of gravel as he takes a step after you. “Will you at least think about it? Please.”

Not stopping to answer, you reach for the handle of the door. “Have a good night, Jake,” you toss over your shoulder.

Being inside the bar does not stop your heart from thumping or your mind from racing through a jumble of thoughts that are no easier untangled than the voices around you, and it’s too much. So to avoid exhausting yourself, you shove those thoughts aside in favor of directing your attention to more important things, like one-third of your trio missing from the booth. 

“Where’s Gem?”

Lola nods her head and you follow. 

Across the bar, Gemma has Jake’s dark-haired friend leaning against the wall, her palms braced on his chest. One of his hands rests at her waist and the other is at the side of her neck just under her jaw, his fingers hidden by the curtain of her hair. There’s an oddness to their kissing. It is very non-Gemma kissing. They kiss freely like no one is around, but it’s not an attack of teeth and lip tugging or sloppy tongues; it’s slow, sensual. It clashes with the room. 

“I was gone for five minutes,” you say.

Lola shrugs. “She only needed four.”

---

tags: @kmc1989 @wkndwlff @dempy @sagittarius-flowerchild @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @penguin876 @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @shanimallina87 @crowsreadsarahjmaas @mamachasesmayhem @sky2nd @jessicab1991 @averyhotchner @rosedurin @horseshoegirl @roosteraloha @b-bradshaw @ssa-sadboi @buckysteveloki-me @whatislovevavy @dreamlandcreations @memoriesat30 @harrysgothicbitch @yvonneeeee @gg-trini

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #jake seresin fic #top gun #jake hangman seresin fic #top gun hangman #jake hangman seresin x y/n #jake seresin x goth girl!reader #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin fanfiction #tgm #tgm fic

[bagopucks]

Blurbs

Jack Hughes x Reader, platonic Luke

For @hughesmoyle

✄————————————

There were many plus sides to Luke joining the devils. Jack having a brother around, myself having someone else to talk to when I was mad at Jack, having someone sane in the apartment. The list was endless. The thing on the top though? Knowing Jack had a protector. Somebody who would lay down their life to avenge their own blood. Luke was quiet, but he could be mean given the appropriate situation. I’d seen it multiple times. Out at bars, when a guy got too close and Jack wasn’t around. Luke was there. He’d loom over me with a look in his eyes, and a few snide words for the perv who wouldn’t leave me alone.

Likewise, Luke had always been around for his brothers. The few times the boys got into it with other kids, Luke was always ready to throw his fists in the mix. Even when Quinn and Jack fought. Luke was ready to take one’s side. Though usually he ended up punching Quinn for calling Jack a meanie, and shoving Jack for calling Quinn an ass. Jack always went for the harsher words.

Luke was a protector, and as much as I trusted Jack’s team, there was nothing like a brother to have your back.

Except -apparently- in the moment Jack may have needed him most. I gasped the second he lunged at Aho. I’d seen Quinn fight. I’d seen Luke fight. Jack? Maybe in a playful manner. I already had his tooth to worry about, but I feared I’d have more to look after when he finished his scrum with Aho.

“Jack!” His name was the first word to leave my lips. I shot out of my seat, my hand grasping the arm of Kristen. Quiet gasps and ‘oh’s’ dropped from the lips of the women around me. The weight of the leather jacket on my shoulders never felt heavier until then. I flinched when Jack went down. My first assumption was that he’d lost the fight. Until he wrapped his arms around Aho’s legs and flipped him over. Was that even legal?

“Babes, you gotta relax. He’ll be fine!” Nicole called to me over the roar of the crowd. My heart raced. I could hear it in my ears.

“What if he gets hurt?”

“We’ll cross that bridge if we get to it. Just relax.” Kristen interjected. She wiggled her arm from my grasp and slipped her hand into my own, slowly pulling me back into my seat as Jack was separated from the Hurricane. So much for Luke and all his protective tendencies. I couldn’t see much of Jack, but the way he skated off, he looked fine. Then again, he didn’t look particularly in pain when he chipped his tooth either.

My knees bounced for the rest of the game. My heart raced. I felt hot, so I slipped my jacket off. Then I heard the final goal horn. The game was officially over. I grabbed my jacket and shot out of my seat, past a suite full of women. I assumed my jacket would be sign enough to get me back into the players only area. I truly hoped so. I took the stairwell instead of trying to weave through crowds on escalators. It was quite the sprint, but a workout I would benefit from. I was met with security by the first door, their eyes looked me over before one man smiled at me and let me through.

Then it was a matter of weaving through the halls, past the visiting locker room, past equipment rooms, past reporters- then I was stopped outside the locker room.

“Here for Jack?” One of the media managers asked. He worked with the arena staff.

“Yeah.” I breathed out, biting my lip.

“You know you’ll have to wait.” And I did, but a piece of me hoped I’d manage to get in first.

Instead, because of legally binding contracts, I was left pacing in the hall while the media filled the locker room and began asking millions of questions.

When reporters cleared out, and players began filing out of the room, the same manager waved me inside. I wrinkled my nose at the scent, but my distaste was replaced by concern when I spotted Jack and Luke seated side by side in their stalls, still half dressed. Jack was rubbing his wrist- not a great sign, but his smile was a good one.

“Jack.” Both boys looked up at me. I crossed the floor, careful not to step on the logo.

“Hey, babe. Thought we’d meet at the car?” Jack’s bubbly tone caught me off guard. I reached out to grab his face nonetheless, inspecting every inch. His brows rose in surprise, but he allowed me to turn his face in my hands and occasionally rub a blemish or red mark. Even the acne forming on his forehead from the sweaty helmet he wore. He needed a spa day.

“Smile wide for me.” I instructed, and much like a child, Jack gave me his best toothy grin. All but one. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

“I don’t think so.” Jack shook his head, and I finally let him go. “You worried about me?” He teased.

“A little, all things considered.” Look stifled a laugh at the obvious allusion to his missing tooth.

“Hey,” Jack feigned offense.

“You just make me nervous sometimes, Is all.”

“What about me?” Luke chimed in, looking up at me expectantly.

“What about you?” I quipped in response, this time I laughed with Jack.

“You guys suck.” Luke muttered as he stood up.

“Says the one who didn’t protect his brother.” I argued.

“Did you see the same fight I did? I don’t think I needed to.” Luke sassed, earning a hard glare from both myself and Jack.

“Check that ‘tude bro.”

“Yeah, Lu. Check the ‘tude.” I agreed with Jack, earning an incredulous look from the youngest boy.

“Get outta here,” Luke finally cracked a smile, trying to shoo me off. “We have to change.”

“Whatever, Luke. I’m telling your dad you’re being mean.”

“I’m sure I’m the least of his worries.” I had begun walking toward the doors of the locker room until Luke spoke up again. I turned to look at him.

“You and Quinn have had far more fights. I don’t think Jim is gonna be too worried.”

“Yeah, but we didn’t risk our shot at an NHL trophy, did we?”

“Jack.” I whined, looking toward the middle Hughes, who was busy removing his shoulder pads and his shirt.

“Luke, quit giving her trouble.” Jack scolded.

“Quit giving her trouble.” Luke mocked.

“Shut up!”

“Thut up!” Jack paused the second the words fell from Luke’s lips.

I took slow backwards steps toward the locker room door. I heard Luke mumble a brief sorry before I slipped out of the locker room. The only sounds that followed me were that of a loud thud and Luke quietly mumbling an, ‘ow.’

#nhl imagine #nhl x reader #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes blurb #luke hughes blurb #luke hughes #quinn hughes

[janeyseymour]

At Arm's Length

One thing about Melissa Schemmenti is: she holds any newbie at arm's length- until that person proves themselves.

WC: ~4.8k

*not edited at all because it's late and I have to teach first grade tomorrow...*

One thing about Melissa Schemmenti is that she would hold anybody she first meets at arm’s length distance. Whether she liked someone perfectly fine, could tolerate them, or couldn’t stand them was unknown to any newcomer at Abbott Elementary. She did it with Jacob and Janine. She made it a point to not memorize Gregory’s name until the second month he had been working there. Hell, she had done it to Barbara- not that any of the newer employees at the school would know. But once you’re in with her, you’re stuck with her.

The “work wives”, as they called themselves, like to joke about it often- how Melissa would come in with a scowl on her face that would just barely lighten up as one of the older teachers their first few years would turn on the news, and Jim Gardner’s face would always be there to greet them as they practically inhaled their first cup of coffee.

But you didn’t know any of that. You came into the school bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, not a single hair out of place, ready for whatever this school was going to throw at you. Whether it be the students, the parents, even the other teachers- you knew you were ready for it. You had student taught in one of the neighboring districts, and even as you started filling out applications, people had warned you about Abbott. They warned you that the students had it hard and could often be “troublesome” (you didn't worry- you had been put on a student’s hitlist during student teaching, and that student bawled her eyes out when you left to graduate), that the administration was beyond questionable, the parents were a handful in itself, and you had been warned that the teachers were beyond cliquey. You had been told that their turnover rate was higher than any school in the surrounding area.

You walk into the school for the third student day, a fresh mug of coffee (your first of many) in hand and a smile on your face as you greet the women at the front desk. Of course they reply nicely, only to give each other looks as you turn your back to enter the hallways. They had seen far too many teachers enter just like you and leave in a puddle of tears.

You head into the staff room to put your lunch in the refrigerator when Janine quickly makes your presence known to the rest of the group.

“Hey! You’re-”

“Janine, will ya shut it?” Melissa asked in her low voice, Philly accent strong. “‘M trying to watch the damn news!”

Janine shrivels slightly and chooses to give you a small wave instead before turning back to her friends. “Sorry,” she mumbles as she takes a seat at a table away from the two veteran teachers.

You open the refrigerator, trying to find a spot to place your neatly packed salad. Keeping your head down, clearly not wanting to agitate Melissa any further, you stay silent as you bite your lip. You really don’t want to have to move anyone’s belongings in the fridge to make room for your own, but you just might have to.

“Oh Melissa,” Barb’s soothing voice cuts the tension. “She was just greeting our new teacher.”

“There’s been plenty of ‘em,” Melissa rolls her eyes. “Now let me watch.”

“Sweetheart, why don’t you take a seat with us?” Barb asks kindly. “Watch that handsome Jim Gardner with us.”

“Barb!” Melissa’s voice nearly booms, and it startles you. You had never seen, or rather heard, someone get so annoyed because someone was talking over the morning news. As you jump, head still in the refrigerator, you smack your head on the edge.

You hiss quietly, just enough to gather the attention from the others in the breakroom.

“Grab some ice from the nurse,” Jacob puts in, eyes half on you, half on the small screen in the corner. “I’ve done it plenty of-”

“For the love of Go-” Melissa takes a breath, huffing as she stands from her chair. “If anyone needs me, and youse better not, I’ll be in my classroom- watching Gardner in peace!”

As she’s making her dramatic exit based on anger, you just barely pull your head out of the kitchen appliance, rubbing at your head. You don't even mean to make eye contact with her- it just happens.

“Thanks a lot, newbie,” the fiery redhead nearly spits out at you. 

You wish you hadn’t pulled your head out of the fridge if it meant not seeing those green eyes full of hatred.

That was your first encounter with Melissa, and you certainly hadn’t made a good impression. Your head was swirling as Janine guided you down towards the nurse, chatting your ear off the entire way. You didn’t know which was worse- Melissa’s anger or Janine’s incessant flow of consciousness. 

It’s safe to say that’s the last time you enter the breakroom before classes start- or more accurately: it’s safe to say that’s the last time you enter the breakroom before classes start when Melissa Schemmenti is in there. Sometimes your salad pays for it, but you would rather have somewhat wilted spinach as opposed to the harsh green eyes you had seen from the redheaded second grade teacher.

---

You avoid her like the plague for the next few weeks, and you’re relatively successful. She’s only made a few snarky comments your way as you pass by in the halls. You hate it. You don’t know why she hates you, but she’s making it very apparent that your mere presence within the school is like the bane of her existence. 

But today is dragging, the month of September in full swing, and your third graders are starting to get comfortable with you. They’re starting to learn your quirks, you’re starting to learn theirs, and you’re no longer the coolest person in the world. They’re starting to get into the grit of the lessons, try as you might to make it fun. It’s becoming a chore for them to sit at their desks for hours at a time, no matter how many brain breaks you do- no matter how much you beg the gym teacher to “just have them run around to burn some energy”.

You know Thursdays are the days where Melissa usually has to suffer through recess duty. You usually see her storm her way out of the breakroom and down the hall on those days as you line your little cherubs up for lunch. You glance out the door as you wait for one particular student to get quiet, but you don’t hear the clanking of her boots, and you don’t see her make her way down the hall. 

You sigh quietly in relief- you had probably been tying Nazir’s shoes for him when she made her way out. You would be lying to yourself and anybody else if you said that woman didn’t scare the living daylights out of you with her intense glare and the aggressive way she tended to walk.

“Jordan!” One of the girls whines and points in your direction. “She’s waiting on you!”

Almost immediately, the boy hushes himself and stands quietly in line. The kids are quiet as they travel through the halls, knowing talking in the hallway was a quick way to get you to stop in your tracks and wait for them to get quiet again. You run a tight ship- a far tighter one than they had expected when they realized how young you were. You get a few smiles and a few “Enjoy your lunch!” from the kiddos as they pass you to get to their own lunch period. 

With a sigh, you turn on your heel and head for the breakroom straight from dropping them off. You usually would wait a good ten minutes into your lunch before heading down to grab your food, but today you were in the clear. Or so you thought. 

Your head down, simply just going in to grab your lunch and maybe brew a quick coffee before heading back to your own classroom, you push the staff room door open. And sitting at her table, lazily stabbing at her own salad is the woman you’ve been trying to avoid- Melissa Schemmenti.

“Oh, hey!” Janine grins at you.

“H-hey,” you say quietly, not wanting to intrude on their clique’s lunchtime. 

Only then does Melissa glance up, that same stony look behind her eyes. “Where the hell ya been?” she asks with a roll of her eyes. You just barely manage to look at her before reverting your eyes. “Busy fixing your damn makeup?”

“Melissa,” Barb warns in a maternal tone- she kind of sounded like your own mother.

“What?” The redhead turns slightly to look at her friend. “What time do you wake up to look like that anyway?” She looks you up and down from her spot.

“Melissa,” the kindergarten teacher says again.

“What?!” Melissa looks at her again, just slightly incredulously. “It’s a fair question!”

“I think she looks nice,” Jacob stands up for you, both physically and metaphorically.

“I do too,” Janine states. “What do you think, Gregory?”

As the man fumbles for an answer, you just barely remember why you went in there in the first place: to grab your lunch, brew a coffee, and head back to your classroom to hopefully let the caffeine kick in, and- you don’t think you can make your coffee anymore. Not with Melissa’s judgemental glare.

“Listen, there’s no doubt she’s cute or whatever, a Philly ten even.” You blush. “All I’m sayin’ is: we’ve seen enough young teachers come in here all dolled up for the first few weeks of school, and then they leave here with their caked on makeup, dripping down their faces, and looking like a clown,” the redhead grumbles as she puts a forkful in her mouth. “Stop wearing makeup, kid. You’ll never be as hot as me anyway.”

“Melissa!” Barbara admonishes. Only then does the redhead bite her tongue. And even then, only for a few seconds as you grab your salad from the fridge.

In an out of character move, you nearly slam the fridge shut and turn on your heel to head back out. As the door closes, you sigh. You forgot to even get your salad. You had been so wrapped up in what the second grade teacher had to say about you. Ignoring the pang of hunger that had settled into your stomach, you walk back to your classroom with your head held high- you suppose a granola bar from your purse will have to do for today. You rummage around in your bag for a few seconds before you hear a gentle knock on your door. 

“Hey,” Janine says quietly, almost unsure of herself. You had never seen her unsure before. Even just passing her in the halls or in the bathroom, she was always upbeat with a smile on her face. “I hope you don’t mind, but I -”

You turn, and the short teacher is holding your salad out. “You forgot this.”

“Thanks,” you give her a sad smile. “I ‘preciate it. You can just set it on the-”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. It’s not the first time someone has said something about my looks as a teacher,” you state as confidently as you can, although your ears are burning with embarrassment. “And I don’t mean to be causing any disturbances to your group. I really just meant to grab my food. You can go back to them, I’ll be fine. I have to reply to a few emails anyway.”

“Barb’s giving her an earful right now,” Janine chuckles awkwardly. “You’re giving me a reason to not be in there right now.”

“She’s-” you gasp softly. “She doesn’t have to do that. I know the two of them are close.”

“We’ve all noticed the way you avoid the breakroom if Melissa is in there. Gregory sees you every morning when you peek in before either coming in or turning away,” Janine tells you. “We’ve been trying to tell her to lighten up, but-”

“Is she always like this to newcomers?” You actually do roll your eyes this time.

The second grade teacher nods as she steps further into the room, offering you your lunch and a fork. “She couldn’t stand me for the first year we worked together, and she liked Jacob even less. She called Gregory by any name but his actual one until the second month in, convinced he was going to leave- of course, he was just hired as a sub at that point, but then we all knew he was going to-”

“Thanks, Janine,” you cut her off gently, taking the tupperware and fork.

“And now she’d fight a parent that says a single thing bad about the three of us.”

“Why was she even there today? I thought she usually has recess duty on Thursdays.”

“That I don’t know,” Janine says honestly. “But I’ve learned not to ask because I either get an earful, or I get the lecture that it’s ‘none ya business’ or ‘who’s askin’ or ‘say one more word, and I’ll get my uncle Tony to-’ and then Barb normally cuts her off with her-”

“You know, you ramble a lot,” you note quietly with a playful smirk on your face.

“Melissa makes sure I know,” the second grade teacher chuckles quietly before glancing at the clock. “I should probably start heading out to make sure the work moms don't get into a fight, but hey... you should come with us to BoneTown tomorrow. Gregory and I are going, and we wouldn’t mind you-” she cuts herself off with the horrified look on your face. “The restaurant!”

Not that you know it, but as you and Janine are quietly talking in your classroom down the hall, Barbara is chewing out Melissa for her behavior. 

“She has been nothing but kind to us, and she even lets you be!” Barb scolds her friend. “You have no reason to be acting so harshly towards her- even going as far as commenting on her looks!”

“I told her she was a Philly ten!” the second grade teacher practically growls out.

“And then you told her she wasn’t ever going to be as hot as you!” Barb fires back. “It’s no wonder Y/N has been avoiding you!”

Melissa, entirely ignoring the point of this lecture, makes a confused face. “That’s her name? I thought it was Alana.”

“Melissa,” Barb’s voice gets scarily low. “Everybody here knows her name. Everybody here knows that girl doesn’t even wear makeup! Everybody here knows that she actively avoids you because when she does run into you, all you do is haze her! You tell her she’ll never make it out of here alive, and that her bulletin boards look... I won’t use that word, but I thought you were better than this!”

Only then does the fiery redhead let her tough act go, even just slightly.

“You weren’t even that tough on my girl Janine,” Jacob pipes up with his eyebrows knit in confusion. “And we all know how you felt about her when we first started here.”

“The kid grew on me; what do ya want me to say?” Melissa rolled her eyes.

“All I’m saying is-”

“Melissa, the last three new teachers to start here were Janine, Jacob, and Gregory, and they’re practically our work children at this point,” Barbara steps in before the history teacher can dig himself into a hole.

“I wouldn’t go that far. Sure, I care for youse, but I’ll still only kill for you, Barb.”

“I’m just telling you, give her a chance. She’s a good kid with a good head on her shoulders. She’s polite, she gets the kids to walk down the halls quietly- even the ones you couldn’t get to,” the kindergarten teacher says pointedly.

Melissa sighs. “If I say I’ll try to be nicer, can we finish our lunch in peace?”

“I want you to promise me you’ll actually try though,” Barb requests seriously.

“Okay, okay!” The redhead puts her hands up in surrender. “I’ll talk to the newbie, and I’ll try to be nicer or whatever.”

“That’s all I ask, dear,” Barb lightly taps her friend’s arm and resumes her lunch. 

---

You quite literally do everything you can to avoid Melissa for the next week. You let your salads wilt, you make sure you have two coffees ready in the morning so you don’t have to enter the staff room, you redecorate your bulletin board when you know she has recess duty, and you listen for her walking through the halls before you even dare to leave your classroom for the day. You don’t know how you’ve managed it considering your room is only a few doors down from hers.

You won’t admit it, but you had heard Melissa tell Barb as they were leaving for the day that your bulletin board ‘isn’t the worst thing in the world’. Worse yet, you hated that you liked her semi-approval. 

It all comes to a head that Friday. As you’re walking in, you trip on the curb and drop both of your coffees, soaking your shirt and the top of your pants. You can’t help but squeal as the hot liquid trickles down your front. 

“Happy October to me,” you grumble as you glance down. There’s no saving your shirt. You’ll just have to keep the cardigan you keep on the back of your chair wrapped closely to your body today.

With a huff, you practically storm your way into the staffroom, not even caring that the usual crew is sitting in there getting ready to watch the news. You make a straight away for the coffee maker. Melissa’s eyes widen slightly- she hasn’t seen, or rather heard, you in here since the incident last week. And the last time she saw you in the break room in the morning was... the first week of school.

“Hey, Y/N,” Jacob waves at you as he reaches for the remote to turn on the television. 

“Hi,” you grit out, chest still burning from the scalding hot coffee.

Even Jacob recognizes the tension in your voice as you angrily start brewing a cup of coffee. 

“Oh, what happened, sweetheart?” Barbara asks as she gently wraps her fingers around Jacob’s wrist, effectively making him pause before turning on the television. 

“I dropped my coffee,” you grumble as you pour the coffee grinds into the filter. “But I’m fine.”

Melissa bites her lip, glancing down at the coffee she had just brewed for herself. She hasn’t taken a sip from it yet.

“Here kid,” she offers you the cup. Only then does she get a look at you, dark brown coffee stained on your white shirt.

“No thanks,” you bite out.

“Hey,” the redhead says, and she says it softly. “C’mon. Take it. I’ll make myself another, and you seem like you need it way more than I do right now.”

“I said I don’t want it,” you state again, scarily calm as you try to pull your shirt away from your chest. At this rate, your skin will be blistering by lunch.

“I have an extra shirt in my closet,” Melissa tells you quietly. “C’mon. Take the coffee and drink it while I grab you my extra shirt.”

“Just turn on your news and hate me like always,” you practically spit.

You storm out of the room before she can say another word to you. You don’t want the redhead’s pity, and you certainly don't want to get in the way of her news. Coffee be damned, you need to get out of that room. You run down to your classroom as you hold your shirt away from your chest and stomach. The cool air seems to be soothing your burns a bit, and you can’t quite help the way tears spring to your eyes.

Only about a minute passes before you hear a gentle knock on your doorframe. You turn, expecting to see Janine, or maybe even Barbara. But it’s Melissa with an Eagles sweatshirt in one hand and a coffee in the other. She tosses it at you, only for it to fall on the floor. You don’t want to let the soaking wet shirt touch you again just yet.

“Y/N,” Melissa says your name for the first time. “Just take it. C’mon. I can practically see your skin sizzling from here.”

“I don’t need your help,” you hiss out as you slowly let go of your shirt.

“I don’t hate you, you know,” the second grade teacher sighs as she steps towards you to pick up the pullover. 

“You do, and I don’t care,” you bite out as a tear escapes your right eye. 

“Ow!” you finally yell, pulling away your shirt again. You wipe the tear away before laughing bitterly. “Only a few more seconds before I run out of here, makeup dripping down my face, right?”

“Hey,” she says. There it is again. That soft tone. She bites her lip and contemplates saying something nice before trying to joke instead. “Barb told me you don’t even wear makeup, so there’s no chance of that happening, I guess.”

“Yeah,” you huff. “Unfortunately for you.”

“I really don’t hate you,” Melissa says again. She almost sounds genuine.

“You already said that, and I already told you: I don't believe you.” You turn away as a few more tears fall.

“I tried,” she sighs, and you hear her footsteps stop a few seconds later. You don’t even bother turning around. Unbeknownst to you, she had snagged your lunch from your bag to put in the refrigerator for you.

When you hear your door close softly, you finally turn back around. She’s gone, but the coffee and the Eagles sweatshirt are sitting on your desk.

With a huff and a silent curse, you peel off your shirt and change into the sweatshirt. Finally, you let a quiet curse slip. “Damn you, Melissa Schemmenti.”

Despite your sour mood, as the kiddos start to trickle in, you stand at the door with a plastered smile on your face and the coffee cup in hand. You don’t know it, but Melissa is smiling to herself- she’s glad you changed into her shirt and took the coffee. She wasn’t lying when she said she could practically hear your skin burning from where she stood.

Come lunchtime, you walk your kids to the cafeteria before sighing as you enter your classroom again. You grab your bag, ready to at least attempt to stomach some food, when you realize it isn’t there. You could’ve sworn you brought your lunch today.

“When it rains it pours,” you grumble to yourself as you grab a few dollars from your wallet. A bag of chips from the vending machine would have to hold you over until you could go home and wallow in your self-pity with a glass of wine in hand.

You don’t even look at the group as you walk in. You make a beeline straight for the vending machine. 

“Y/N,” Barb says before you can feed your first dollar into the machine. “Your lunch is over here.”

You whip around at that. “How the hell did it get in here? I didn’t-”

“I did,” Melissa fights the urge to roll her eyes as she eats her pasta. “You’re welcome by the way.”

“Th-thanks,” you sigh as you walk over to the table to take it. You start to make your way back out when you hear that low voice again. “Just eat it here, kid. C’mon. It’s fine- you’re already wearing my shirt and had my coffee.”

You blush violently, but Janine scoffs. “You let her wear your precious Eagles sweatshirt?! You wouldn’t even let me wear it when Jamal got to second base with me with paint last year!”

“Your skin wasn’t blistering,” the second grade teacher snorts out. She turns back to you before kicking out the seat next to her. “Sit.”

Silently, you obey. You eat quietly, taking in all of the conversation around you. Lunchtime is over all too soon, and today you have recess duty. With a sigh, you stand and push in your chair.

“Thanks,” you say quietly before you exit. 

At the end of the day you change back into your coffee stained shirt and head down to Melissa’s room to return it to her.

She’s standing outside of her classroom, hands on her hips as she stares at her own bulletin board in frustration. 

“Hey,” you say quietly, trying not to sneak up on her. 

“Hey hon,” she sighs.

“Thanks for letting me borrow your shirt,” you say shyly as you offer it to her.

“Don’t mention it,” she says offhandedly. She then glances over at you. “Seriously: don’t mention it. If my uncle finds out I let someone else wear it, he’ll have my-”

“I won’t,” you laugh nervously. You weren’t sure if she was kidding or not. Then you look at what she was just looking at.

“It looks nice,” you compliment quietly.

“Not as nice as yours,” she huffs. “I don’t know how you do it.”

“Do what? The bulletin board? I can help you with-”

“No. I don’t know how you come in here everyday looking so damn nice, and without makeup. I don’t know how you get those little gremlins to stand quietly in line and walk through the halls without a sound- Barb couldn’t do it, hell I couldn’t do it! I don’t know how you make it look so effortless to work at this shitshow. I really don’t know how you handled today the way you did- I saw you standing outside your room ten minutes after that hot coffee was all down your front with a smile on your face for the kiddos- my kids would’ve known I had a shit morning. And I ‘specially don’t know how you can stand to eat that boring, bland ass salad you do everyday. Seriously: has no one taught you what a good meal is?” She huffs again at the end of her rant, looking at you curiously. 

“I-” you really don’t know what to say.

“Y’know what?” she sighs as she sets her stapler down on the vent. She mumbles to herself for a second before, “Come over tonight, and I’ll teach you what a good meal is. And in return, you can teach me how to do this fuckin’ bulletin board.”

“Oh, I uh-” You were kind of looking forward to sitting at home with a bag of chips and a glass of wine in your sweatpants.

Melissa looks away. “Nevermind. Forget I asked.”

“N-no,” You say, maybe too quickly. “I’ll be there. Give me your address, and I’ll- I just have to go home and change.”

“Alright, kid,” the redhead rolls her eyes. She rattles off her address, and you commit it to memory. You actually know around her area of town- one of your best friends grew up on that street. “‘N bring a bottle of wine.”

You nod, a blush on your face.

“And don’t tell Janine or Jacob. It’s too early in the year for them to be over at my place.”

You laugh. “I won’t. I promise. I’ll be over by six, if that’s okay?”

“Sounds great, hon.”

With a smile and a nod, you make your way out of the building. You quickly run home and change into a nicer top- not one covered in coffee- before heading down to the liquor store.

A bottle in hand, you stand at her door nervously. What if you picked up the wrong bottle? Would this be the end of somehow getting onto the veteran teacher’s good side?

Before you can contemplate your choice any longer, the door whips open. She’s in a green tank top and a denim overshirt, and you can’t help but laugh. You’re pretty much wearing the same thing, except for your top is black. 

“C’mon. Otherwise my sauce is going to simmer for too long, and the last time someone simmered the sauce for too long... Well, Kristin Marie still hasn’t heard the end of it.” She saunters into her kitchen, and it smells great. She tends to the pasta sauce- clearly homemade, before reaching up for a couple wine glasses.

“I hope you brought somethin’ good,” she says jokingly. You hold up the bottle to show her. “Well shit, kid. That’s my favorite. How’d you know?”

You may have panic texted Barbara to ask what kind of wine to bring, but she didn’t have to know that. Instead, you just give a bashful shrug. 

“I think we’re going to get along just fine,” she smiles, her first real smile at you since you started at Abbott.

And the rest is history. She doesn’t hold you at arm’s length anymore. 

Next

#abbott elementary #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary fanfiction

[imaginaryf1shots]

My Girls (|||) | Max Verstappen

Words count: 3215

Driver!OC X Max Verstappen

Summery: Cecilia Hansson daughter of a Swedish billionaire, a race car driver, with a dream of making it big in Formula 1. However she has a few secrets that may hurt her as women are disliked in the sport.

Series Warnings: cursing, child abandment, absent father, drinking, car accidents, Jos Verstappen, misogyny, Christian horner (tell me if i missed anything)

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Previous || Next

Hate for days

Four race weekends later and the hate for the female was ramping up for no reason. It was becoming unsettling for everyone, the drivers, the team and everyone involved. Yes her fanbase was also getting bigger but they were being overshadowed by the haters and they weren’t big enough yet. This week is the Austrian Grand Prix, maybe it was orchestrated but it was one hell of a week. The female has been doing great in all these races, being in the top 10 all the time, even snagging a Pole position in Canada at P3. all this seemed to make the people hate her more if that was even possible, how can this woman do better than Sebastian Vettle they said, he’s a four time world champion, the name calls, the speculations, everything made them tick. Every week Cecilia is racing; she's doing things no female has done before in Formula 1, even if she left today she’d be remembered in the sport, they had the audacity to say it’s because she’d a nepo baby, when half the grid were nepo babies themselves, children of past drivers. 

The one day the female dreaded in her race week is the Media day, she didn't mind the videos she made for Mclaren with Lando, the two becoming closer as the year went on. Decked in Mclaren’s kit once again, she made her way to the entrance. And some asshole just had the audacity to throw something at her, she was standing signing a cap one of her fans was holding when she felt it hit her. She gasped in shock and pain and was in an instant led inside by the security walking with her, she couldn’t even turn around and look before she was whisked inside. She did hear shouting and some type of ruckus behind her, her German wasn’t great but she heard a lot of cursing. She doesn’t even know what was thrown at her, but she felt liquid running down the side of her face, pulling back her hand she saw it red, it wasn’t blood it was some sort of paint or something. The security hadn’t let her stop until she was in Mclaren’s motorhome, Sedil was talking to Toto Wolff of all people when his driver came in with her blonde hair and part of her face red for a split second it did look like blood, bu it was much brighter, around her people were panicking.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” The female was repeating over and over again to no avail, no one was listening to her it seemed.

“What happened?” Sedil asked his(favourite) driver. 

“An asshole threw what I’m guessing is a balloon filled with paint or something at me, but I’m fine.” Pressing the last part as she said looking at her PR manager. 

“That’s not okay.” Toto was the one to say, he’s never seen or heard of a driver getting something thrown at them like this before, they weren't at a play for goodness sake, he hoped Mclaren would handle this and take care of their drivers more. 

“No it’s not, but there's nothing I can do about it now.” The female said, shrugging, all in the love of the sport. “I’m just going to shower and get ready for the day, again.”

Walking off with her head held high, she wasn’t going to slip or crumble even if all she wanted was to do that, she hadn’t left her daughter and family for her to do that. They’ll hold nothing on her, no way. Nothing is getting in her way.

“That’s a special one you got there.” Toto said watching as the female left with people still fretting over her. 

“Yes we do, I’m just afraid it’ll only get worse.” Sedil pushed up his glasses while watching the strong woman on his team. 

“Just make her come in the back door.” 

“That’s not what I'm talking about.”

Later in the day after Cecilia showered(and tried not to break down in the shower), changed into fresh clothes, redid her makeup with the help of the female workers in the team’s makeup, she looked fresh as new. The news already spread and pictures were already floating online, Cecilia talked to her dad and reassured him she's okay and told him to keep it from her daughter. 

Lando was waiting for her in front of her door. “I’m fine.” She said before he could open his mouth. As they walked out together for the small little interviews they had to do together before they were split up, she was thankful no one asked about this morning, whether it was because Lando signalled to their friends not to or because they saw the look on her face she had no idea but she’s thankful nonetheless. 

The group interviews are what she hated the most, she was mostly ignored still but was asked a few questions every now and then. Today she was being interviewed with Lewis, Seb, Pierre and Kimi.

She smiled when she saw the lot, Pierre giving her a longer hug than normal, the female’s love language being physical touch didn’t hate it, Seb also pulled her for a hug. When they walked onto the platform, Cecilia sat in the middle with Seb and Lewis on one side and Pierre and Kimi on the other. For the first 10 minutes or so nothing unusual happened, she was asked a yes or no question and that was it.

“For the older group, since you’ve had the chance to race with Cecilia, what do you think about having a female in the sport?” the man asking, made the Mclaren driver roll her eyes a little, the way he said female it sounded like they were the lowest of the lowest, god’s most despised creation, acting as if his mother was anything but a female. 

“I think she’s a phenomenal driver, regardless of her gender she’s had an amazing start to her rookie season.” Lewis said, praising the girl, he didn’t like what happened today and what continues to happen in the sport, everytime he thinks the world is going in the right direction something like this happens. 

“Going over what Lewis said, I’ve watched her race for years, before she became an F1 driver, and I’ve even told Lewis about her before, racing with her is something I had hoped to do for a while now.” Sebastian said and Lewis nodded with his words, they both looked neutral on the outside fuming on the inside. 

“So her being a female doesn’t bother you?” Tilting her head a little at the question, she isn’t sure she heard him correctly, people seem to be getting bolder today. 

“Why?” Kimi was the one to answer, something he never does, he never answers for someone else. The iceman has a daughter of his own, he dreads the day she comes into a sport or a workplace that is a male dominated and having to go through this shit, he applauds Cecilia’s courage, and he hopes for once the sport can change and adapt. 

“S-sorry?” The man asking the question stuttered, he didn’t quite understand what kimi was asking.

“Why does it matter that she’s a female?” Both Seb and Lewis watched on as Kimi talked, they knew he 100% had this handled, getting Kimi to talk was a hard thing but when he did he had facts and truth only. 

“Just the physicality of the sport and the pressure of it…” 

“Have you seen any signs of her under performing?” Kimi asked, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly, Cecilia felt like she was in a tennis match watching as Kimi talked and the other man struggled to respond. She knew her grid mates, the drivers all had her back, but watching it in action is something else. When the man struggled to answer Kimi continued. “She hasn’t, so we can have this conversation when her gender comes into play.”

“Nicely said Kimi.” Seb grinned, happy with the outcome, Cecilia had to bite the tip of her tongue to stop herself from laughing at the scared look the man had on his face.

The questions moved on, people were more aware of their questions now, she and Kimi got little questions for the rest of the conference both unbothered by it. Pierre did bring up how she beat him a lot while they were young, reminiscing about their Karting days.

The next two days she was booed wherever she went, circuit walk, all of free practices, qualifying people were just booing her whenever they saw her, it kept amping up, first it was five people then ten then twenty then forty and so on and so forth.

By race day where she was starting P4 a whole section was booing her, Cecilia looked ahead not giving them any attention. Her team had her back and that’s all she wanted or needed.

She had a tough time for the race, she had to overtake Lewis, Valtteri and Seb for P1, and she planned to do it, she’ll prove everyone wrong and end this debate once and for all. Lap 15 she overtook Valtteri in the DRS zone 1, she was scared he’ll overtake her in Zone 2 but Max was also making a move so that made him the main focus not her, she was able to slip away and close in on the Ferrari ahead of her.

RE(race engineer) You’re now P3, keep the pace until we need to box for now. We suspect Ferrari to box soon as well

Trusting her team’s judgement, she waited until lap 30 where she’s been gaining on Seb before she started losing grip in the tires and had to box, a little earlier than they hoped but she had to box now or she’ll be overtaken. Seb boxed a few laps after her, and that gave her the edge and took his position and as much as she loved the man she wasn’t about to let him take P2 again.

Cecilia Someone tell Seb, I love him but I love view from here. RE *chuckle* will do

At the end of sector 2 beginning of 3 she tried to overtake Lewis at turn 8 but he left her no room; she had to stay back or hit the wall. She watched Lewis closely, she knows this man, she grew up watching him race, she analysed his techniques, surely they’ll help her overtake him. 

Lap 67 the race was slowly coming to an end, under 5 laps left the distance between her and Lewis grew at one point, before she scored the fastest lap and closed the distance in lap 68. Once again at the downhill part of the track she tried to overtake lewis in turn 5, 6, 7, and 8, only managing to overtake him in turn 9, she braked late and went on the inside, getting in the DRS zone she gave it her all and tried to just giver herself as much distance as she could.

RE That’s amazing, just focus on maintaining speed, Hamilton’s tires aren’t helping him. Cecilia He won’t box will he? RE No you’re in lap 69 Cecilia Oh… that’s good i guess

The last three laps had Cecilia feeling like she wasn’t in control of her body, she was focused on winning, she didn’t count the laps, didn't do anything, just asked about the time between her and Lewis and raced. Passing the chequered flag made her want to cry and laugh at the same time.

RE That’s P1 Cecilia P1! Well done! Cecilia OH MY GOD! I DID IT! Thank you, thank you so much. Oh my god, we did it everyone, amazing job. RE You just made history Cecilia

Finishing her cool down lap she drove to the number one stand and got out of the car and ran to Mclaren, the team held the crying girl, of course she had her helmet on, no one was able to see her face.

She went to get weighted, Lewis came up to her as she took off her helmet. The male opened his arms for a hug and she just let him. He patted her back, despite coming in 2nd to her he was beyond happy for her, she deserved it. Seb took Lewis’ place hugging Cecilia so tight before he slightly lifted her off the ground.

“Congratulations, Cece, you deserve it.” Was all Seb managed to say before he was whisked away for his interview. When it was her turn she had thankfully calmed down a little.

“Cecilia, amazing race, amazing performance, congratulations on your first win in Formula one.'' The female presenter had a huge smile on her face.

“Thank you so much.” Cecilia had a matching grin.

“Tell me, how do you feel right now?”

“It feels like a dream, I've dreamt and worked for this moment since my first go kart ride, so it feels a little unreal.” The female said and took out her braid from her suit, feeling it bother her slightly.

“One last question before you go, what do you want to say to everyone watching you right now?” Cecilia chuckled in true Cecilia fashion as she looked at the camera, her ice blue eyes dead as they looked emotionlessly at the camera lens.

“I want to thank those who booed me, you hate me, means you think about me, and because I was in your thoughts I was able to win.” With a tilt to her lips she smiled at the interviewer, thanked her and left. 

Walking into the cool down room, she took the number one hat and looked at it, her first one. Sitting between the two males they watched the screen replaying some parts of the race, they were talking about what happened during the race.

The screen showed the moment Cecilia overtook Lewis, Sebastian was seeing the chase for the first time, in a few seconds she was able to get pole position and pass the current world champion. 

“That was great Cecilia, very daring.” Sebastian complemented her, a moment she will forever hold, she felt beyond proud of herself.

Standing in the middle on the top part of the podium was such a surreal moment, definitely one she won’t ever forget. When the Monaco national anthem played Cecilia felt so proud she hoped her girl was watching her mummy win. Holding her trophy up she kissed it and held it high for photos, she did this, she won this award with her blood sweat and tears(and champagne). This moment is hers so fuck all the haters because she deserved this.

Cecilia opted out from her traditional analysis of the race and she went back to the hotel to shower and get ready for the party, all her friends and crew wanted to celebrate her first win. She doesn’t drink much anymore but for once she’d go have a few drinks and dance and let loose. She facetimed her family, her girl was full of shouts relaying what she saw in a comical way, seeing her through the screen she wanted to go home and hug and kiss her little girl. 

For once Cecilia was dressed and felt like herself, she knew there will be photos posted after this night, but she dressed in a dress, did her make-up how she liked and curled her hair. Making it to the club with Lando, they had room next to each other. Walking in they found their friends already there, Pierre and Alex already a couple drinks in. 

“Our winner!” Charles called seeing his female best friend, he threw his arms out and he pulled her in for a hug, they swayed for a moment. “Félicitations, Cece.” (congratulations)

“Thank you.” Pulling back she was pulled into multiple hugs before Pierre handed her a shot that she threw back, making them cheer. In no time everyone was hitting the dance floor, having the time of their lives. Just a group of twenty somethings having fun. 

Charles and Cecilia were dancing when Max made it, he saw the two dancing and laughing. See, times like this it looked like they were dating, but he knows that Charles is in a relationship, and rumours have it Cecilia is single, but you never know. 

“Maxy!” He didn’t need to look to know who was calling him, the female being the only one who dared keep calling him that to his face all the time, turning to look at her, she looked a little drunk, George handed her another drink as he passed and he watched her take big sips. 

“You’re drunk.” He was amused, he’s sure she’ll never remember this in the morning. 

“And you’re not drunk enough.” She said and tried to give him her drink to get him drunk, Max took it from her hand and took the chance to look at her from up close. She was sweaty but her make-up was intact, to him it looked different, he only ever saw her wearing make-up on media days, now he’s never seen her wear a dress in real life, since the beginning of the season she’d only ever been spotted wearing her team’s kit. Max placed her drink on the table, seeing how drunk everyone is, he made the split decision to try and cut her off, she was stumbling as she walked, and they all had flights out tomorrow afternoon. 

“I don’t get drunk easily.” Max told her, her eyes were unfocused, and she was blinking slowly, definitely tired.

“Bo-ho, a few years ago I would’ve been able to drink and not get drunk, not anymore.” She pouted, the last time she got drunk, or drank anything more than some wine with dinner was the day before she found out she’s pregnant. “Well, I’m gonna go dance.”

Before he could do anything she found Lando and pulled him to dance with her, he seemed more sober so he left them to it, mingling with his friends, he saw some RedBull crew who he talked with and sipped his glass of beer, did he keep Cecilia in his line of sight? Yes he did. Did he stop Pierre and Alex from giving her any more drinks? Yes he did. Did he tell Lando to take her back to the hotel? Yes he did. Also did he help him take her to the car waiting for them outside? Yes he did. Will she remember it? No she probably won’t.

The next day Cecilia woke up to the bright sun streaming through her window, she was on her side and a trash can next to her head. She was still dressed in her dress from last night. She groaned and pulled the cover over her head, she didn't want to wake up. Trying to fall back asleep wasn’t a success when her phone rang and she was informed that she had to leave in under an hour. Sitting up, her blonde hair was all over the place, she remembered almost nothing from the night before, she didn't want to get drunk, but here she is the next day remembering nothing.

“Fuck.”

CeciliaHansson15

Tagged, Mclaren

liked by georgerussell63, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and 1,263,211 others

ceciliahansson15 the journey has been long, but well worth it. This is only the first step. to all the girls out there know you can do it too.

view all 6,782 comments

username1 you go queen

username2 we need more women in the sport

charles_leclerc félicitations cecilia, j'ai toujours cru en toi (Congratulations Cecilia, alwaywas believed in you)

liked by ceciliahansson15

Ceciliahansson15 merci de toujours me soutenir (thank you for always having my back)

Pierregasly mon ami vient de gagner!!! (my friend just won)

liked by ceciliahansson15

username5 just luck, don't let it get to you're head

username6 what the f do you mean luck, did u actully watch the race

username6 and it's your not you're learn how to spell

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Taglist:

@luciaexcorvus . @vellicora . @tpwkstiles 

#f1 x driver!reader #f1 x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen one shot #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1dr #max verstappen imagine #my girls #max verstappen x reader #f1 scenario #f1 x oc

[colbyskies]

Taste Your Love

Tom Kaulitz x male reader 3k words

Where Tom and M/n are in the hot bus all by themselves and things get a little heated

It is so hot on the tour bus, too hot. The AC broke two days ago and despite everything the band has been telling David, he won’t book any hotels. “We should save money if you want the AC fixed.” The second Tom heard those words leave his mouth, he cussed him out. Everyone is sick of David's shit but they have to put up with it if they want to keep their image. 

They always second guess his every move, wondering if thy just want to torture the five boys into doing whatever he wanted him to. He was always bitchy about the way Bill looked or the way the G’s hardly talked during interviews. Always pushing the image of Tom being a man whore. In all honesty it is annoying, but at least he is giving them a couple days off hot ass bus or not, they hardly get days off these days. Always too busy with interviews, photoshoots, or shows. But tonight is the one night they get to actually do what they want to do without their dickhead manager breathing down their necks. 

Bill, Georg, and Gustav have left Tom and M/n on the bus alone. They went partying or that’s what they told the two boys at least. All of them were confused when they turned it down but it is just too damn hot to be in a clusterfuck of people.

Both Tom and M/n sit on the couch playing video games, getting hotter by the minute. The pedestal fan in front of them only blows hot air onto their already overheating bodies.

“God.” M/n groans, pulling his black shirt from his body, the shirt practically sticking to every part of him. “How are you wearing all of that?” He directs his question towards Tom, who is wearing his clothes from earlier that day. His baggy jeans still heavy on his lower half, a large white shirt, matching his bandana and hat. M/n could see the beads of sweat from his forehead and the way his shirt stuck to his body making it tighter than any clothing M/n has ever seen on Tom.

“I don't know, I was too engrossed in the game,” Tom replies, taking off his hat and bandana letting his dreads fall to his shoulders before putting them up into a bun to keep them off his neck. He removes his shirt next, pulling off the sticky item and throwing it into the pile M/n had created on the floor in front of them. “It's too hot for any of this, I cant believe David won't get us a hotel.” Tom begins to undo the belt holding up his pants. M/n watching his every move, from the way his hand flexes as he pulls the belt loose to the way his abs move with every push of his pants off his body. “It’s bullshit. He’s an asshole.” M/n hums in response, too scared to talk when Tom is looking very alluring only in his boxers. 

He’s seen his body before since they always change in front of each other, but he’s never examined him before. The way sweat rolls from his chest and traces each muscle on his toned stomach makes him think thoughts he’s never thought about Tom before. Subconsciously, he licks his lips, flicking his tongue against his lip piercing, wanting nothing more than to feel Tom’s piercing against his own. 

“M/n?” Tom’s voice snaps him out of his trance pulling him back to the scene before him. “Whatsup?” His response is quick and slurred, something Tom doesn’t miss but ignores. 

“Staring is rude.” Tom remarks, smirking and playing with his lip piercing. M/n knows exactly what that look is, it’s a look he has given to many women, especially interviewers. If he looks at anyone that way, everyone knows exactly what he wants. 

“Sorry.” M/n turns away with a blush, picking up his remote to start the game again, ready to kick Tom's ass once more. Tom hums in response, picking up his own remote and beginning to play as well. 

“Your face is heating up, is it something I said?” Tom suddenly said, pulling M/n out of his focus. 

“No, just the heat,” M/n stutters with a smile on his face, trying to keep his eyes on Tom's face instead of trailing them across his body. Tom moves closer to him, causing his face to flush red again, they’re practically touching. Tom’s bare body is pressed against his, almost pinning him against the arm of the couch. “You can look, you know.” Fuck if Tom keeps talking to him like this he won’t be able to control the reaction is provokes. 

“I think this is unfair.” Tom mumbles causing M/n to raise his eyebrow. “This..” Tom gestures to his lack of pants and M/n who is still wearing his. “Can I?” Tom asks, hovering his hand above his belt, M/n leans back without a word allowing Tom to undo his buckle with nervous shaky hands. Tom’s never done this with a guy before, the thought hits M/n as Tom is struggling to work the button to his jeans. 

“Hey.” M/n rests his hand on Tom’s pulling it away from his pants, instead bringing his lips to the others. Brushing them slightly together and allowing Tom to take the next step if he wants to, not wanting to force his own desires onto him. Though he’s still confused by his own want for Tom. 

Tom breathes heavily before pressing his lips against the others, M/n instantly taking the lead. Holding the back of Tom’s neck with one hand while the other rested on his hip. Tom doesn’t know what to do with his hands until M/n moves them to wrap around his neck, the other quickly putting his hand into M/n’s hair. A feeling he never knew he wanted to feel until the smooth hair is in his palm. 

Tom pushes M/n away, “No, we shouldn’t what if-” M/n cuts him off by kissing him again, Tom moaning loudly into his mouth and the other pulls him in closer by his waist. Deepening the kiss, M/n sucks on Tom’s bottom lip causing the other to whimper before diving in for more. 

The kiss quickly becomes heated, the heat around them growing even hotter as they can’t keep their hands off each other. M/n’s hand trails into Tom’s hair, dropping the band holding up his locks causing them to fall over his shoulders, but Tom doesn’t care. He moves close to M/n, almost sitting in his lap as he delved deeper into the kiss. 

Tom has never kissed a guy before, but it is better than he could’ve ever imagined. M/n is skilled with his mouth, the way he licks his lips begging him to open his mouth or the way his studded tongue piercing brushes against Tom's bare one. The coldness of the piercing is shocking at first but slowly growing familiar the more the other explores his mouth. 

Tom definitely didn’t expect to be kissing his best friend tonight, but he also didn’t expect his best friend to go further. 

M/n moves his kisses from his mouth to his jawline then to his neck. Tilting back Tom’s head with only a few fingers, giving Tom the space to move if it is too much. It’s perfect. The way M/n’s tongue laps over his clavicle, bitting a little at the conjunction, pulling a moan from the back of Tom’s throat. 

Tom hates being dominated, but right now it seems fine. He loves the way M/n has him under his control. The way each kiss makes him more dizzy and the more he sucks the harder his cock gets. The more desperate he grows, it’s been a long time since he had a lay, that’s what he’ll blame it on instead of his own unlawful desire for his best friend to use him to fulfill any fantasy. 

M/n’s kisses travel further, pushing Tom down onto the couch the further he goes. His shoulder, his collarbone, his peck, the second M/n puts his nipple into his mouth is the second he knows why all girls love when he does it. M/n swirls his tongue around the bud perfectly, dragging long moans from Tom, the other pressing his dull nails into his shoulders. Desperately trying to pull him closer, the much needed air he needs pulled from him with each lick and bite. 

He doesn’t leave his other nipple abandoned, playing with it between his fingers until the one in his mouth is sore and hard before moving to the one in his hand. M/n does the same thing, swirling it with his tongue, biting it gently with his teeth, but this time he drags his piercing against it causing Tom to flinch at the sudden coldness hitting his already hard nipple. A whimper falls from his mouth, he’s never made noises like these before. Not for anyone. Not when a groupie sucked his dick with so much passion it had him coming undone in mere seconds or when he stuck his dick into someone so tight he was worried he wouldn't fit. Never. 

M/n trails his kisses further down Tom’s torso until he gets to his waistband. Dipping his fingers slightly underneath almost to ask if Tom is okay with it, when Tom thrusted his hips into M/n he took that as his sign that it is okay. Yet, just to be sure, asks Tom anyway. 

“Are you sure you want this Tom?” M/n asks, his fingers staying slightly under his boxers rubbing small circles into Tom’s sensitive skin above his dick. 

“Please. God. M/n please, fuck. Please touch me.” Tom whimpers, thrusting his hips into M/n again trying to build friction. To do anything to help his aching cock. 

M/n smirks, removing his hand, “Where would you like me to touch you Tom?” His hands trail up Tom’s sweaty torso, flicking his nipples eliciting a moan from the other. “Here?” M/n kisses Tom’s neck, sucking a bruise into his skin. When he pulls away he presses his finger into it, knowing it hurts, but just enough that it will have Tom squirming beneath him. “Here?” M/n asks again, receiving a whimper in response. “You’re gonna have to use your words Tom.” M/n trickles his hands back down Tom’s torso before pressing his palm firming onto Tom’s clothed cock. “Or here?” The action causes Tom to jolt and breathe heavier. 

“Fuck please M/n. Touch me everywhere, I don't care. Use me. Touch my cock while you praise me. Please. Fuck. I just need you.” Tom whimpers with his eyes closed and his head thrown back against the pillow resting against the arm rest. M/n is shocked, the response definitely not something he was expecting but something that he loved and would serve with everything he has. 

“Anything for you, baby.” M/n whispers huskily into Tom’s ear. He kisses Tom deeply as he removes his pants Tom struggled with earlier, discarding them into their collective pile of clothes. 

M/n holds onto Tom’s hips before he removes his boxers. Their lips still attached he grabs the waistband and pulls them off Tom, the other slightly helping but ultimately put under his spell only able to lazily lift his hips and kick them off. M/n pulls away from the kiss to remove his own, yet is pulled back into it by Tom, holding his head firmly against his wanting nothing more to devour M/n.

“You're moving too slow, please. I need to feel you.” Tom begs, pulling M/n impossibly closer, pressing their bare cocks together. Both of them groan at the sensation traveling down their spines.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back,” M/n whispers against Tom’s lips before getting up and running to his bag. He grabs what he needs before returning to a naked and desperate Tom. He looks so submissive squirming against the leather of the couch, pulling at his cock and whimpering. 

“What’s that for?” Tom asks, eyeing the lube in M/ns hand. Suddenly M/n is reminded that Tom has never had sex with another guy before. 

“I have to prep you so it doesn’t hurt. This makes it easier.” The simplest explanation M/n could give, Tom just nods, a bit worried. “Don’t worry baby, it won’t hurt. It might be a bit uncomfortable at first but you can tell me whatever you need from me, okay?” Tom nods again, biting his lip as M/n lathers up three fingers with the lube. 

M/n trails kisses from his neck to his hips, kissing each side before taking the tip of Tom's cock into his mouth. Reveling in the way Tom’s breath catches in the back of his throat as he takes him further. The cold stud of his piercing pressed against the underside of Tom’s cock sent electric shocks through his body, if M/n keeps this up he won’t be able to stop himself from coming. 

M/n gently rubs the muscle surrounding Tom’s hole, wanting him to relax as much as possible before he starts to prep him. Once he feels that he is ready, he inserts his index finger, letting Tom get used to the feeling before moving. 

It feels awkward at first, you never imagine yourself with someone else's fingers in your ass. You don't even imagine yourself with your own fingers in your ass, but Tom waits for the awkwardness to leave, mainly distracted by the tongue teasing the head of his cock. It is when M/n inserts a second finger that the sting of being stretched registers. He hisses trying his best to stay relaxed and not force out M/ns fingers. 

M/n releases Tom's cock from his mouth, “Are you okay, baby?” M/n asks, concerned. “Yeah, keep going.” Tom replies, the grimace on his face not leaving until a few seconds later when M/n brushes against something soft inside of him. Tom lets out a loud moan at the pleasure launched through his body and to his cock, surprising himself from the noise he made. 

M/n takes this as a sign to insert a third finger, stretching Tom out as much as he can. 

“I’m ready, please M/n. I need you.” Tom whines, looking M/n directly in the eyes. M/n groans at Tom’s words, his cock jumping in excitement at the thought of bottoming out inside the other. 

He pulls out a condom and is about to undo it when Tom stops him. “Please, I want to feel all of you. We’re both clean, please, M/n.” M/n can’t resist the pleading look on his face as he drops the condom and applies lube to his aching cock, stroking it a few times before angling himself at Tom’s entrance. 

He pushes himself in slowly until he bottoms out, groaning at the grip Tom has around his cock. His hands softly caress Tom's hips, trying to get him to adjust faster. He doesn’t know how long he can take it just sitting with his cock being warmed by Tom. 

“You can move.” M/n almost sighs in relief at Tom’s words as he begins to move slowly in and out of Tom. He leans down to kiss him deeply, picking up speed encouraged by Tom’s blissful sounds. 

“Ahh..Fuck..Faster..” Tom moans, holding onto M/n’s shoulders tightly, digging his nails into the skin. M/n complies moving at a rapid pace, Tom’s head lulls back as M/n hits his prostate over and over. Almost overstimulating him to the point where he can’t control any noises he makes. His whines and whimper can be heard throughout the whole bus. Tom has never been more grateful to turn down his brother's offer of going out tonight.

Tom feels his release building up in his stomach as his legs shake from this hold around M/n’s waist. “Mmm close.” He mumbles, no longer able to kiss M/n through it, his pleasure far too distracting. “Me too.” M/n pants from above him, moving at animalistic speeds, breaking Tom into a million pieces. 

Both of them fall over the edge together, Tom coating the two of them with his come and M/n coating Tom’s insides. M/n huffs in exhaustion falling over Tom to catch his breath before pulling out of Tom. Tom whimpers at the suddenly open space. M/n gets up, leaving Tom confused, but the confusion disappears when he comes back with a towel to clean Tom up and a glass of water. 

“Thank you.” Tom whispers, his voice hoarse. He almost drinks the entire glass in one gulp. 

“We should move to the bedroom in the back before the guys get back.” M/n tells Tom, taking the glass back from him to get him some more water. 

“You’re right.” Tom says, trying to stand up, only to be met by shooting pain up his spine. “Fuck.” His face contorts in pain trying to haul himself to the back of the bus. 

“Hey, be careful. Here let me help you.” M/n grabs Tom and pulls him into his embrace before lifting him and carrying him to the back of the bus and laying him on the bed. “I’ll be back, I’m just going to go and clean up and get you some advil.” Tom nodded in response, too tired to verbally respond. 

A few minutes later M/n returns with a bottle of pills and a larger glass of water. He locks the door behind him and gives Tom the items in his hands before laying on the bed beside him. “Is this okay?” He asks, wrapping his arms around Tom—spooning him. To which Tom responds by turning over in his embrace to further press himself into the warmth. Despite it being hot as balls, he loves the comfort M/n brings and quickly falls asleep in his arms. 

#tom kaulitz #male reader #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz x you #tom kaulitz x male reader #lgbt #tokio hotel

[just-my-type-x]

Reader is a fellow youtuber/influencer and they’re modelling a new set as a savagexfenty partner but she needs to have a guy in the photos and videos as well so she asks all her single friends but Colby is the only one down to help. Things get intimate and they start to see each other as more than friends

Hot Piece

Pic from Pinterest

I walk around the house, nervous. I face palm myself on the forehead when my friend i talk to on the phone tells me he's busy today.

"I know it's important to you, i'm sorry i can't be there today", he says and i nod like he can see me in any way.

"You're only the eleventh person to tell me that. No problem, see you soon Hayes."

I hang up and throw myself on the couch, my head in my hands and exhale loudly. I hear a ding and grab my phone from next to me. My face lights up and i smile when i see a picture from Colby, a silly photo of him and Sam from the road.

"Weirdos", i text and send to him and he facetimes me. "Hey, weirdo number 1,what's up?"

"It's the first time I'm glad I'm not number one at something", Sam laughs before Colby got the chance to answer and we all laugh at Sam's statement.

"Trust me, he's number one at being a pain in the ass too", i tell Sam and we both laugh, while colby gives us a fake angry face.

"Oh, how well i know that!"

"If you wanted to talk to y/n, you could've just facetime her, now shut up", Colby tells Sam and Sam taps with two fingers on the wheel.

"I'm driving, dude.", Sam defends himself and i giggle at their childish behaviour that always makes me feel better.

"Then eyes on the road and give me a chance to talk to my best friend", Colby's eyes grow wide in his funny way of changing face expressions

"Is she a bigger best friend than i am?", Sam asks and looks at his friend, faking his serious face as well as he could. From the angle of the phone, Sam and Colby looked like a crazy couple.

"Never", Colby answers and turns back to me. For a second i forgot i was talking to them. "Hi y/n, sorry for that", i smile and roll my eyes.

"It's ok, this reminds me why i declined moving in with you two. Where are you guys going?"

"Coming home, actually. We went to check something on Sam's car."

When Colby says that, my heart gets filled with joy.

"COLBY! I JAVE A FAVOUR TO ASK YOU!", i scream on the phone and get up from the couch because of the excitement. Both guys open their eyes wide at me because of my reaction. "Are you free at around 5 PM today? I have a photoshoot today for Savage x Fenty and i asked all my friends who are also into modelling and no one is free tonight. My partner called in sick two hours ago and there's nobody who can replace him at the agency. Can you replace him, please? Two hours maximum is the photoshoot.", i bite my lip nervously, waiting for Colby's answer. " Also, you're single and i talked to every single guy i know, i draw the line now because you're my only chance. ", i practically beg and look at his amused face, while i start feeling stupid.

"You know you could've asked from the beginning, right? Yeah, of course I'm coming with you. A chance for me to see pretty women and a chance for you to model for your dream line."

"Oh My God thank you thank you thank you"

We hang up a few moments later and after a while i hop in the shower to get ready to leave. I wash my hair, dry it and brush it as good as i can, so the hairstylist wouldn't spend half an hour to untangle it. I clean my face once more with a cleanser and prime it a bit so i wouldn't look like i just got out of the bed. I get dressed in my xplr merch, the purple combo, and head to my car to pick up Colby from their house. I pull up ten minutes later and Colby waited for me at the porch.

"I shouldn't have let you track my phone", i exhale when he gets inside

"It's for emergencies.", he closes the tracking app and puts his seat belt on.

"Was me picking you up an emergency? How?", i turn my wheel left-right and look around in the mirrors to make sure nobody hits me while leaving their street.

"It takes me a lifetime to get ready. When you said you're coming, i was in the shower", he laughs and i roll my eyes

"i knew it! You're never ready when i tell you I'm heading to pick you up. I was so confused when you told me you're done."

"That's why you showed up half an hour before?", he looks at me, smiling and i nod, smiling as well.

We drive another half an hour until we reach our destination, a studio downtown LA, used especially for photoshoots and music videos. We go to make up and hair, the process altogether taking close to fifty minutes, which is a lot for both me and Colby to take. Modelling is hard and since we're not quite in the industry, it's hard to wait such a long time for a natural light make up and wavy hair, or in Colby's pov, a slight comb through his messy hair.

I get dressed in the Floral Lace Teddy and i face palm myself in my head, realising Colby's gonna see me like this. My cheeks get red and i head towards the set to meet with him. My eyes widen when i see him already posing, wearing black carnival satin boxers, sitting in a chair, acing every pose. I look dreamily at him, the boxers suiting him perfectly and his concentrated expression gives him a sexy vibe. He catches my eye and smirks at me, but then he looks at me up and down, noticing what i am wearing. I swallow hard and my mouth dries up a little when his eyes linger a few more seconds at my chest, where he can see my nipples.

"Oh, you're here, great. We'll take some couple photos of you two, then single shots for you, ok?", the photographer tells me and i nod, heading towards Colby. I awkwardly stand next to him, unable to think in that moment and it seems like he can't either. " Ok, please take a sit on his lap, your back towards the camera so i cam photograph the back of that thing you're wearing.", he gestures around with his index finger and both Colby and i chuckle when we hear him say thing. I sit on Colby's lap and adjust myself to be comfortable. He looks up at my face while i do that and blush when i meet his eyes. He puts his hands on my waist and i hear the clicks of the camera. "great, now I'm gonna need some spicy shots, boy, please put your hands on her ass.", i chuckle when i the photographer calls Colby a boy and he rolls his eyes but immediately obeys and puts his hand on my ass, harshly.

"Asshole much?", i whisper and he bites his lip, smirking.

"Couldn't help it. You look amazing in this", Colby's raspy voice sends shivers to my entire body and his sight travels back to my almost exposed breasts, where my nipples are poking. I hold in my breath when he gets closer to me and expose my back, pulling my hair on the side of the shoulder.

"Amazing, thank you. Beautiful thing you have on", i laugh at the photographer's remark and relax a bit.

I get up from Colby and we start shooting again, this time both of us facing the camera. He goes behind me and puts one hand on my belly, while one of my hands holds him frkm behind his neck. We take a few shots facing the camera and then we switch again to sensual photoshooting. Colby gets back on the chair, which is seated sideways now, and i sit on him again, this time leaning back, giving him the opportunity to run his hands on my chest and over my breasts, as Michel, the photographer, instructs him to do. I breath heavily every time i feel Colby's fingers run over the thin lace and he tenses up every time he touches me. The boner he started having clearly doesn't do us no good, but i try a lot not to think about it when i get up from that leaning position and i lock eyes with him. He puts one hand around my neck like he's chocking me, but he's so gentle i barely feel his hand.

"Great, amazing", Michel shouts and clicks frenetically on the camera. "Good, we're done with these, go change. Next pair!", he shouts and motions us to leave the room fast, like he's not already paid to be there the whole day.

"You should keep these boxers. They suit you", i smirk and look down at him, his member not softening yet. He blushes and laughs.

"Sorry, i couldn't help it anymore. You look great in this thing"

"No worries. I have my side effects too", i think about my nipples poking out through the fabric and wave at him when i get in my dressing room. I change into the No Strings Attached set and take a few deep breaths before getting out of it. I don't understand why i am so nervous all of a sudden around Colby. I've known him for almost 5 years now, never have i felt like this, not even when we were all hanging out at the pool. Mistake or not, we would always hug each other and touch each other while having bathing suits on, yet everything was normal. I look at myself one more time in the mirror and slap my own ass, feeling myself. I see Colby in the mirror and i start laughing.

"Arrogant much?", he laughs too and i walk with him on set again, to film the commercial. Michel starts playing some music for the two of us to relax a little and to get in the mood. Once we felt ok, i approach Colby and he spins me around, our faces lighting up with happiness because of our good mood. He grabs me by my waist and pulls me closer to him and i grab him behind his neck and glue our foreheads together.

"Great, keep dancing, darlings. It's coming out great!"

"He's such a figure!", Colby shakes his head and i laugh, while spinning one more time and going back into his arms. My back was against his chest and he embraced me, his head in the crook of my neck, getting too comfortable and kissing on my neck and on my shoulder. I turn my back to the camera and face Colby, i cup his face in my hands and he puts his hands on the small of my back, bringing me even closer to him and all of a sudden, he pulls the strings of my underwear. Michel shouts cut! and i grab my strings to tie them back together, shooting Colby an angry look.

"Amazing, folks, that's all with you.", Michel looks in his camera, not disturbing himself to look at us one more time. I thank him and leave Colby behind, but he catches up with me in a second.

"Hey, hey", Colby grabs my hand and i turn to look at him.

"Why didn't you warn me about that?", i drag him into my dressing room to talk to him.

"I just got carried away and i thought it's gonna make a great end of shot. I'm sorry.", he leans back on my make up table and i cross my arms at my chest.

"It's ok, I'm sorry. I overreacted. I was nervous the whole day because of this shoot and now I'm throwing words around.", i shake my head and head over to my couch where i had my clothes grabbing them to go change.

"It's ok. Why were you nervous? You've done this before", Colby comes closer to me

"I was nervous to shoot with you actually. I knew what type of shoot it was going to be that's why i didn't ask you to come in first place, but i had no choice in the end. Meet me at the car, go change", i give him a smile and hit him playfully with my fist. He nods and leaves the room.

Driving home, none of us says anything. The radio plays overly heard songs that we both got tired of, but fortunately, we get home faster than expected. I park the car on their driveway and sigh.

"Thank you for helping me, Colbs. I owe you one", i tap his leg and take my hand away to rest it on the shifter.

"Anytime, y/n. I just.. You know we're never gonna be the same after today, right?", he looks at me, analysing my features.

"Why?", i play dumb and look straight ahead. I knew we are something else after all the intimate moments we've had in the past couple lf hours.

"I had you almost naked in my arms, y/n. You were dressed in the most intimate lingerie possible.", he says, voice a little too loud for the inconvenience we're having.

"I know, Colby, i know what you mean. I just don't want to acknowledge anything", i shout back and look at him. "We've seen the most of each other today and I'm aware of that. But we have to be chill about it"

"What? Why?"

"What do you mean why? Colby, we're friends, we can't just throw it away like that!", i throw my hands in the air

"What if i don't want to be just friends with you? What if i can't see you as a friend again?", he raises his voice and we both hold our gazes, tension thick as hell. I gulp.

"You don't see me as a friend anymore? Why?"

"Fucking hell, y/n. Maybe because you felt like you were mine? And it felt so good to experience this with you that it fucked with my mind so fucking much. You can't come up to my house tomorrow and act like i haven't touched your ass or kissed your breasts the day before. ", he inhales deeply and he holds his head in his hands. I grab his wrist to discover half of his face." What? ", he looks at me and i lean in to kiss him. Surprised, he leans back, but gets into the kiss immediately, his hands in my hair. He pulls at it and i gasp, giving him permission to slip his tongue inside my mouth. Colby moans when my hands travel to his abs, stopping above his belt. All of a sudden, a loud honk is heard right next to us. I let down the windows on Colby's side and encounter two overly excited figures, Sam and Kat, looking at us from Sam's car.

"Now I'm glad you didn't ask Sam to model with you", Kat shouts and we all laugh at her statement.

.

.

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♥️I had so much fun writing it, hope u liked it

Disclaimer, i would've put the pictures of the sets I'm talking about in here, but i was afraid i would get restricted or something for nudity or some shit so i didn't take the risk.

#colby brock #sam and colby #colby brock imagine #colby brock smut #sam and colby imagine

[mixtape-0325]

Evening imagine ~ Changbin x Gn reader (18+)

After a long day, Changbin comes back to his study and pours himself a drink as he can finally relax. When his eyes close for what seems like just a second, a stranger finds him with a better idea of what true relaxation looks like.

The rain was ticking against the window much slower than the clouds moved in to turn the day grey. The room was dark, however kept alive by some candles lighting up the space and creating a more comfortable environment. Changbin let himself fall into a big chair in the room, the walls covered in books and a table right next to his luxurious chair that could hold his drink. His muscles were aching from his long work day, the whiskey on his side however ready to warm him up from the inside, relaxing him despite the burning sensation down his throat with every sip. It felt like just a few minutes where he closed his eyes, letting his mind wander whenever it wanted to go.

Changbin's hand slid down his tight black trousers, caressing his thighs a few times back and forth. Then slowly he slid his hand up over his pecks, still covered by his white shirt and tie. One by one he used his hand to undo all of the buttons and his tie, letting his shirt fall open and reveal his toned body. His body was heating up, his bulge already half hard, straining against the tight material just from his thoughts. His mind wandered further and before he could really know what was going on, two hands helped him out of his trousers. His eyes stayed shut, too aroused to even see who it was just lost in the feeling.

Changbin's breathing increased slowly as the hand wrapped around his cock, starting off with a decent pace that gave him just enough to grow fully hard in this person's touch. It wasn't a bare hand, he could tell, yet a hand wrapped in one of his pool gloves that covered two fingers and the thumb with a soft black material. It wasn't unusual at all, since playing a game of pool with the staff or his collegues was a daily accurance after work hours. It felt good like that, the extra friction against his cock exactly what he needed in this moment. He let the unknown person jerk him off for another minute or so, throwing back his head and moaning quietly at the feeling of being taken care of. But Changbin needed more, his hand soon reaching out to the person's hair, tugging on it to bring them closer.

'Be good, yeah?', he spoke into the quiet room before lowering the person's mouth down onto him. 'Fuck', Changbin cursed as his hips moved to thrust into their mouth, holding the person still with a tight grip in their hair. The whole room filled with wet, needy sounds. The curiosity drove him crazy, not even really knowing who this person was, if it was one of his male colleagues from the meeting he just had or simply one of the women that worked in the house. He didn't care, he just needed release more than anything.

It was too exciting, too arousing to think of a stranger wanting to please him so badly. Changbin's moans turned into grunts, his back now removed from the back of the chair to push this person down onto his cock even further. Their nose hit his skin as they took every inch of his cock so perfectly for him each time, bobbing their head to match the previous speed of Changbin's hips. As soon as Changbin tried to move unexpectedly, the person choked on his length, causing him to release himself without any control. He quickly reached for the chair to attempt to steady himself, gripping tight onto the armrest with every spurt of his release. The person on their knees skillfully cleaned him up, sweet kisses and licks almost enough to overstimulate him. They wouldn't let a single drop of his cum ruin his expensive suit. 'Fuck, yeah...that's it, swallow for me baby'.

Changbin's felt lightheaded, his orgasm too strong to even really think clearly about anything. But as soon as he took a few more breaths, his eyes opened slowly, the scene in front of him different than he had pictured. His hand was wrapped around his own cock, his own pool glove covered in white spurs of cum with his trousers all the way down to his ankles. Yet no one in sight, just him and his imagination, and too many refills of his whiskey.

#skz #skz smut #stray kids #stray kids hard hours #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids smut #skz hard hours #skz hard thoughts #stray kids imagines #stray kids x female reader #skz x female reader #skz x male reader #stray kids x male reader #skz x gn reader #stray kids x gn reader #seo changbin #changbin smut #seo changbin smut #changbin x reader #changbin x y/n #changbin imagines #skz imagines #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #dom!changbin #dom!skz #dom!straykids

[ladylooch]

Afterthoughts and Alcohol- Liv X Luca

A/N: Part 1 of Liv & Luca's LONG teased angst....

Word Count:3.5k

Stop here & here before continuing on.

The timezone difference between the West coast and East coast has Livia Meier banging her head against the wall of her bathroom stall. Well, metaphorically. 

Luca and the Minnesota Wild have been on a long, road trip. Although Liv doesn’t live with Luca in Minnesota, his road trips still feel like a burden on their relationship. They talk less. He is out with the boys more. Then add in the three hour time difference and they both feel like two ships passing in the night. Liv fights the frustrated tears growing in her eyes as she fixes a smudge of her freshly applied, mauve pink lip stain. 

Heading for my nap. Text you when I’m up 😘

Liv sighs as she slowly walks out of the women’s bathroom inside UBS Arena. She looks down at the message, wanting to tell Luca how much she misses him and how distant things feel with them right now. But it is not the time. Not right before a game and when she is out with her friends for a fun night.

Instead, she sends back: ❤️💋😘

Camilla and Harper, her good friends from freshman year and now floor mates, await outside the bathroom for Liv.

“Ready?” Harper asks, sliding her arm through Liv’s. They begin to walk to the left.

“I think we missed warm ups. Will he care?” Camilla wonders. She nervously bites her lip as the girls weave arm in arm through the busy concourse to the Isles family seats. 

“No. I don’t think Ryder Hughes noticed we missed warm ups on a rivalry hockey night.” Liv laughs at the mere thought. He has the same focus and intensity as his dad, Jack. His ability to block out the rest of the world has always been admirable to Liv. 

Tonight is Girl’s Night Out sponsored by Ryder Hughes. He has been begging Liv to come watch a game to show her some “real East coast hockey” for the past several months. But class and flying to Minnesota and Devils & Rangers games, have taken up most of Liv’s time. She figured it was time to throw Ryder a bone. He has been so helpful and supportive as Liv has begun the process of starting her second book. He is constantly checking in to make sure she has eaten or has enough coffee or has taken a shower in the last three days. Only a year and a half has passed since Liv’s first book was published, but she had forgotten how difficult and stressful it can be to meet her publisher’s demanding deadlines. 

Enter Ryder Hughes as Superman.

And Luca, of course. His role is shaped more by distance than Ryder’s, but Liv tries to shelter those details from her boyfriend. She doesn’t want to make Luca feel bad for missing out on “Librarian Livy”- his nickname for her because of the blue light blocking glasses she wears while she writes.

“Where is Luca tonight?” Harper asks as they sit down in their seats. Liv can feel eyes of the WAGS on her- the Devils and Rangers and Wild and now Islanders girl? The puck bunny label practically writes it’s self across Liv’s forehead. 

“Um, he is in Seattle.” Liv clears her throat of the awkward phlegm setting in from the stares.

“Ugh, I love Seattle! It’s all moody and dreamy.” Camilla murmurs. “Do you ever visit him on the road?”

“No, the road is sacred.” Liv rolls her eyes. “It is where all the bonding and real focus on hockey happens. You know without the distraction of their loved ones.”

“I wanna be a WAG so bad!” Harper whines. “Livy, how do I get Ryder to notice me?”

“I think you need to be European….” Camilla teases, eyeing Liv from the side. 

“Stop.” Liv shakes her head. These two are good friends and always tease Liv about the “hot, hockey men” entranced by her aura.

“Livy, will you sponsor me for Swiss citizenship?”

“It doesn’t work like that.” Liv laughs, bringing her mixed drink to her lips for two quick sips.

“Maybe Lio will marry me.” Harper jokes.

“He is a mess. Stay away from him.” Liv mutters. She likes Harper too much to allow her to enter Lio’s puck bunny trap. Camilla and Harper share a look, shamelessly bonding over their admiration of the oldest Meier child. 

The Islanders win the game against the Buffalo Sabres 2-1 in regulation. The girls want the experience of waiting for an NHLer and no amount of whining from Liv can get them to move along. So they wait, and wait, and wait for Ryder to poke his head out from the tunnel. He gives a wave and big grin, then climbs the stairs by twos.

“Great game!” Harper blurts immediately.

“Thanks for the tickets, Ry!” Camilla cheers as he enters the row.

“Hey ladies, thanks for coming.” He goes in for a quick hug with each one of them, ending with a longer one for Liv. “Good hockey, eh?”

“Looked similar to what I have seen.” Liv pokes his side, shrugging like she is unimpressed. He actually played well tonight. 

“Better colors though.”

“Mmm, I like green. Brings out my eyes.” She narrows them at him when he rolls his back at her. 

“Trust me, you look better in blue.” He points to her plain blue shirt with no representation of his team. “What are you up to after this?” He seems to address the group, but his attention stays on Liv. 

“I don’t know that we have decided.” Liv murmurs.

“Well, we have a green light tonight, so a bunch of the guys are heading out. You wanna tag along?”

“Yes!”

“Duh!”

Both girls chime in for Liv. She sighs, tilting her head back towards the arena roof to consider. She really didn’t write enough this week. She should go home and try to get a couple thousand more words done to feel good going into the weekend. Luca is coming into town next week and she wants to spend all her time with him, not worrying about her next check point.

“Livy, your deadline will still be there tomorrow.” Ryder winks, knowing her inner turmoil. He very dramatically juts his bottom lip out at her, then looks up towards the rafters as he bats his eyes. He looks cute and boyish, earning a smirk from her.

“Wow.” Liv snorts. “Fine, but you’re buying my drinks all night. I’m not paying.”

“Beautiful girls never pay with me.” Liv ignores the way Harper and Camilla giggle as they head down the stairs to leave in Ryder’s swanky, black Porsche. 

- - -

Inside the VIP area of some bumping club Liv has never heard of, she lays her head back on the booth and belts out the lyrics to Party in the U.S.A. Ryder is next to her, nursing his second whiskey neat as the rest of his teammates scatter through the upper area of the club. Camilla and Harper are long gone, mingling with the single members of the Islanders while Liv was sitting by herself. Ryder just came and plopped himself down after doing a lap around the level. 

“Are you glad you came?” Ryder smirks as the song finishes.

“Mhm. Thanks.” Liv says genuinely.

“I knew you would feel better if you came out. You’ve been working hard. You deserve to have fun too.”

“I do have fun.”

“Yeah, but I mean have fun here, in New York, not only when you’re jet setting off to Minnesota. You live in one of the best cities in the world and you never do anything the city has to offer.”

“Life for me here is temporary.” Liv shrugs. It is. Once she is done with school, she is going to Minnesota. She wants to build a life with Luca. 

“You’re gonna throw away a whole life here for someone else’s dream?” Ryder asks. “Kinda shitty of him to ask.”

“He didn’t ask.” Liv shrugs her shoulder slightly, feeling defensive. 

“But he also didn’t tell you to stay in the best city in the world for your career.” Liv pauses.

No, Luca didn’t tell her that.

“Maybe Mr. Perfect isn’t so perfect.” Ryder suggests.

“If I wanted to stay, he would support that.”

“Come on, Livy. You think he loves being hundreds of miles away from you for most of the year?”

“What is he supposed to do, Ry? He can’t control where he plays. You know that.”

“Sure, but I hope you know you deserve more than to only be someone’s girlfriend in some shitty, fly over state. I can’t imagine that’s what your parents want for you either.”

“That’s harsh.”

“Maybe, but at least someone here wants what is best for you.”

“So does he.” Liv finishes with a whisper. They both look away from each other, taking drinks to cool off some of the tension. Liv avoids the pull of Ryder’s gaze a few minutes later, wondering if she should head back to her apartment instead of continuing the night.

“Hey.” Ryder murmurs softly. He reaches out for her hand, giving it a squeeze. He watches his thumb brush over her fingers. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get so upset.” He forces a smile. “If you’re happy, I’m happy.” 

But are you happy? An internal voice asks Liv. Are you happy with how many more months of long distance? Or the fact that you and Luca have only talked once on this five day road trip? Or how short the conversation was and the way he goes hours without responding to a text? Will this be how it is in Minnesota? Is Ryder right? Will you only be Luca’s girlfriend, a WAG, and not a published author with a bachelor’s degree and working towards a master’s?

Liv swallows down her nerves, squeezing Ryder’s hand back while pulling in a steady breath.

“It’s okay. I’m okay. I’m fine. Great even.” She finishes, groping for her glass on the table and slamming the rest in one huge swallow.

But the rest of the night, Liv is swimming in and out of reality. She has a hard time being present with the group. The amount of alcohol she consumes doesn’t help. She gets upset when realizing Luca never texted her before he headed to the arena. She was in the bathroom, scrolling through Instagram when she saw his arrival picture posted on the Wild socials. His phone is right there in his hand, but she has no new messages from him.

How is this so easy for him? How is she sitting here spinning her wheels, waiting for any sliver of attention, and he is walking into that arena without a care in the world? Before she thinks better of it, she sends a text to him.

Going to bed. Sweet dreams.

Then she fills her Instagram story up with all the pictures she can take of every Islander and her. She takes shots with their star center, captain, and goalie. Her and Ryder snap tongue out, ultra posed pics. She shoves at Ryder’s face as he tries to hand her another shot. Camilla and Harper join in on the pictures too- sexy, pouty faces as Liv sheds her jacket and runs around the hot VIP area in her black tank top. 

Liv is catching her breath off the dance floor with a fresh tequila soda when her phone buzzes on the bar top.

Your bed looks different these days. Have fun, baby! Call me when you get home?

He is as sweet as ever, which is so annoying to Liv. 

She sees Ryder on the dance floor with Harper, who is falling all over herself at his attention. Liv scoffs. Pathetic. Harper throws her arms around his shoulders. His hands go to her hips, holding her up and in place as her upper body sways. Everything feels like it is getting sloppy. Harper pulls herself into his chest, cuddling up into his arms. He lets her, but his eyes wander up to where Liv is. He raises his eyebrows at her. Liv shrugs in response. Ryder leans down to Harper’s ear, saying something that has her nodding. 

Liv scans the crowd as they wade through to get off the dance floor and to the stairs leading to VIP. Every woman turns their head to look at Ryder as he passes. If he notices, he doesn’t let on. Liv shakes her head in awe of it. She can feel their hot gazes judging her when he stops next to her. He throws his hands on the railing she is leaning on, smiling in greeting at her.

“Another night where you have your pick of the place.” Liv cocks a brow at him. A piece of hair falls across his forehead and instinctively, Liv reaches up to brush it away. Ryder goes still with her skin on his. He closes his eyes for a moment, then slowly turns fully towards her, setting his blue eyes on her face.

“They aren’t the girl that I want.” Liv holds his gaze for three breaths, then looks away, taking a gulp of her drink. She ignores his words, unable to comprehend fully if that was insinuation or not. She can feel the way her body responds to the alcohol. She is a little unsteady on her feet, feeling her inhibitions fall away, and the anxiety dissipate until she feels completely comfortable in her skin. 

The feeling doesn’t last as Camilla and Harper get downright sideways. Camilla is in tears crying over her ex-boyfriend with a rookie who looks like he wants to run through the brick wall to get away from her. Harper is falling asleep on the bench and the bouncer is throwing his thumb over his shoulder that she has to go. Ryder helps Liv get them back into his car. 

“Are you okay to drive?” Liv wonders before getting in.

“Yes. I’m sober. Saw you three getting wild and stopped drinking so you would be safe.” The consideration touches Liv. She is contemplative as she gets into the passenger seat. Her seatbelt clicks into place then Ryder pulls out into traffic. As the car shifts, Liv feels something shifting inside of her too. A softness is growing where she felt jealous and out of control earlier. 

Camilla rushes out of Ryder’s car as soon as he puts it into park. She tosses a wave over her shoulder leaving a passed out Harper to Ryder and Liv. They each take an arm, working together to get her into her apartment. Once inside Liv helps get Harper into bed as Ryder waits in the living room.

“Livy, do you think Ryder fell in love with me tonight? Is that why he is here helping?”

“I think he cares about you, Harp, but maybe try again when you’re sober.” Liv says to her friend. Liv ignores the twisting in her stomach at the thought of Ryder interested in someone. What audacity her tummy has to be churning right now.

Liv’s boots clack down the hall as she finds Ryder by the couch. He is looking at a picture of the three girls on one of their first weekends at Columbia. He seems out of place with his big shoulders, dark hair, and masculine presence in the overly feminine living room.

“That feels like a lifetime ago.” Liv murmurs, stopping next to him. Their shoulders brush. 

“You have lived a lot since then.”

“Yeah.” Liv smiles. “Can’t believe I’m graduating in a few months. It flew by.”

“The best years do, especially when you find a safe place to spread your wings.”

“I know it’s going to be hard for you when I leave.” Liv murmurs, sensing the sad undertone to his words. They haven’t spoken about this before, but the implication has been there.

“Yeah, it will be. I’m losing my best friend.” To comfort him, Liv laces their fingers together, tugging him towards the door to leave Harper’s behind.

“Come on, knight in shining armor. No need to get sad and sappy tonight. We have months left together.”

“True. Plus, I’ve got one more drunk girl to tuck into bed.” 

“I’m not drunk.”

“Sure, but you aren’t sober.” Liv doesn’t argue about that. Ryder makes sure the door is locked to Harper’s apartment, then puts a guiding hand on Liv’s back to walk her the two doors down to her place. 

Antsy anticipation intensifies in Liv as she pulls her keys out. Her other hand is still laced in Ryder’s comfortably. His thumb brushes along her fingers and she feels butterflies sweep the walls of her stomach.

“Liv. I’m serious. I know you’re trying to change the subject and move on, but I don’t know what I’m going to do without you. You have this effect on me. I am better when you’re around. I’m scared of who I will be without you.”

Warmth and appreciation spreads out from Liv’s chest to her extremities. That feels so good to hear. She has spent so much of the day feeling like an after thought, a throw away item when other things are more pressing. Right or wrong, Ryder fills her cup right back up. She smiles softly at him.

“See? What am I going to do without that smile.” He reaches out for her face, then drops his hand, remembering what they are to each other. Remembering who she has waiting for her in San Jose or whatever West coast city Liv said he was in. 

“We will still see each other.”

“Like this?” His voice gets huskier.

“What do you mean?”

“Just me and you. Like this. Like…” He trails off, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. He gets bold, cupping her cheek with his hand. Liv closes her eyes and leans into his touch. “I’m trying so hard not to kiss you right now.” Her blue eyes open again at his confession. 

Liv should say goodnight. Right now. Danger signs bolt upright in her mind. Red flags whip in hurricane force winds. Alarms bang through her head like cartoon cymbals clamoring together. And yet, her eyes drift, down the bridge of his nose, over his slightly red cheeks, to the full, red flesh of his lips. Her top teeth tug her bottom lip into her mouth, then she runs her gaze back up those features to his eyes again.

“Livy…” He whispers her name like a secret. 

Her eyes gravitate to Ryder’s lips again, wondering what it would feel like, for one moment, to kiss someone else. But not just anybody, him. Ryder. Loneliness whispers like a siren to feel warm skin against her mouth again. To be held for a moment, desired, not put on a shelf to be taken down when hockey or school isn’t demanding attention.

Ryder leans in, keeping his eyes open, locked on Liv. Her heartbeat blasts through her ears like a freight train as he stops at 80%. All that is left between them is a slim slice of stale apartment air. His warm breath collides with hers right in front of their noses. She tilts her chin up more, perfectly evening up their mouthes. 

Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz

Liv’s phone vibrates in the back pocket of her tight jeans. Her and Ryder stare at each other. Without even checking, they both somehow know it’s Luca. She never told him she was home. Now he likely worries, three thousand miles away.

“I should go.” He sighs dismally. Liv can taste his words in her mouth, feeling the flutter of the air of them on her lips. Then he turns and walks away. 

Liv doesn’t answer Luca’s call. She couldn’t speak if she wanted to anyway. 

Guilt crawls through her veins, icing her chest and making her unsteady on her feet. Ryder disappears into the elevator. Her back hits her door as she clutches her keys to her chest. 

Why did that almost happen?

And what is that sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that mirrors disappointment?

#liv x luca

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

House on Fire: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k

Summary: Fire burns everything including energy, but when an unsub uses fire to murder dozens, you feel each and every one of those deaths.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

x

"We all live in a house on fire, no fire department to call; no way out." - Tennessee Williams

Never have you been so focused in your entire life than in this moment. Spencer is very skilled in not worrying about what move you're going to make, but you've been practicing more to throw him off guard. Derek and Emily believe you have what it takes to beat Spencer while JJ and Penelope are on Spencer's side knowing he is going to win.

The clock is ticking down the seconds until the end of your turn, and you quickly make a move you hope is the right one. Spencer looks at the chess board in front of him and doesn't think twice about moving his Bishop. It's unclear right now who is going to win even though Spencer knows it's gonna be him.

"Do not let him win," Derek says to you.

"Shut up so I can concentrate."

You move your Knight right before you see that it leaves your King open. Spencer takes this opportunity to win and immediately goes in for the kill.

"Checkmate."

Derek and Emily groan at the fact that they lost their bet, and Penelope and JJ cheer in victory.

"Wanna go again?" Spencer smirks.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

You clean up the board right when Hotch comes out of his office with a serious look on his face.

"Briefing room. Five minutes."

The chess game will have to wait until you're done with this case. JJ is the first to leave this group so she can prepare, and five minutes later, everyone is inside the briefing room. She immediately plays a news report of a fire that happened at a movie theater in Indiana.

"This is news footage from a movie theater in Royal, Indiana with a population of two thousand people. Earlier tonight, nineteen people were killed. They're sure it's arson because the same thing happened at the local recreation center. That claimed the lives of twelve victims."

"I heard about that. It was all over the news."

"There were some details that didn't make the news. A week and a half earlier, there were some fires at a convenience store and a local restaurant. Luckily, it was after hours and no one was hurt."

"Whoever set these fires went from no victims to thirty-one in two weeks. That's a hell of an escalation."

"Why didn't they call us in sooner?" Emily asks.

"The local police and fire department knew they were dealing with an arsonist, but they had no idea he'd become a killer."

"Most arsonists don't. They just like setting fires. Any deaths that occur are almost always accidental."

"Thirty-one victims isn't an accident."

"The police chief knows he made a mistake, and he learned the hard way that even though not all arsonists are killers, they do have one thing in common--once they start, they can't stop. Wheels up in twenty."

Hotch gave everyone twenty minutes to get ready, but you only need ten. Everyone is early to the plane because they realize the emergency of the situation. You need to get to Indiana as soon as possible to stop this guy before he hurts any more people.

"Based on the limited population of Royal, the unsub is most likely a local male between the ages of seventeen and thirty," Spencer theorizes.

"Are you saying arson is a sexist industry?" Penelope asks over video chat.

"For the most part, yeah. Only twelve percent of arsonists are female."

"Apparently women just aren't inclined to burn things."

"Let's go with the numbers. Focus on males," Hotch says.

"Well, we can scratch 'hero complex' off the list. He hasn't left anyone to save. Though, we can't rule out firefighters and other first responders."

"How about I do a background check on all local firefighters and EMTs?" Penelope suggests.

"Flag anyone with a history of being first on the scene or anyone with a juvenile record that includes vandalism or small nuisance fires."

"I will look at everything from firebug to flamethrower."

"JJ, you check out the news footage? I want the word out that we'd like to see any personal videos or photos of the fire. Arsonists like to watch, and if our unsub stuck around, maybe somebody will recognize him."

"I'm on it."

"Did locals find anything in their call logs that resemble the unsub's MO? I mean, he may have staged practice runs," Derek asks.

"According to the fire chief's report, there was nothing similar in the past year. Garcia, extend your search statewide. The unsub may have done his practicing far enough away so as not to arouse suspicion."

"I will cast a wide net, sir."

"I grew up in a small town," JJ explains. "People are gonna assume anyone we question is guilty. The last thing we want is for this to turn into a witch hunt."

"It's exactly what this is. We're just gonna have to keep the locals from realizing it. Garcia, I want you to find out everything that you can about the thirty-one victims, and I don't mean just their paper trail. I need to know everyone related to them, everybody they owed money to, and everybody they had an argument with."

"Sir, if I'm hearing you right, you're saying I'm the witch hunter?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

When you land, you, Derek, Rossi, and Emily head to the movie theater crime scene. Hotch and JJ went to meet with Chief Carlson at a local gym that's been cleared out since there isn't enough room at the hospital to keep all the dead bodies. You refused to go there because that's too much spiritual damage you'll be taking. Fire burns everything, including energy, so the theater should be a safer place for you.

It's not.

There is a memorial set up for people who have died in the theater outside of it that people can visit. There are a bunch of flowers, pictures of the victims, stuffed animals, and other things to honor the dead. The energy you feel is so powerful that you're kind of scared to go inside.

Fire Captain Danny Wells meets you, Derek, and Emily when you arrive. Rossi breaks off from the group to talk to fire chief Tom Schultz.

"Most of the victims died of smoke inhalation, thank God. A few of them were trampled. My cousin Gary and his wife Linda were there."

"If you need some time--"

"I'm good. Please, follow me."

Danny bypasses the yellow caution tape and walks into the charred movie theater. You're immediately floored at how overwhelming this is for you. Yes, fire burns everything in its path but because so many people died here, the energies stayed behind this time. The lobby is also burned where the second fire was set, but the main point of entry is in one of the theaters. Instead of charred ceilings and broken plaster, the fire rages above you. The doors are locked, preventing people from escaping. They push past you trying to get out, and you end up backing up right into Derek to try and avoid them.

"Are you okay?" He's enough to snap you out of the memory of last night. "Can you see them?"

"All of them," you whisper tearfully.

Derek rubs your back comfortingly as he addresses the fire captain.

"Based on how dark the burns are to the theater, this must be the point of entry. It must have spread into the lobby."

"This one burned the longest. Slower, too. There was less oxygen so less fuel. He used a lot more gas in the lobby. The place went up like a haystack. The bastard even turned off the main water line so the sprinklers didn't even go off."

"You know, the unsub could have set this fire first. The lobby burned harder and faster which forced the victims out this way where he'd already blocked the exit. Plus, the smoke from the slower-burning fire had already built up. Whoever did this knew that even if the fire department got here in time to stop the fires, they still wouldn't be able to save them."

"Excuse me."

You leave the main theater to join Rossi and Tom in the lobby where there is a lot less emotional damage waiting for you. Rossi and Tom are talking to one of the EMTs, Tina Wheeler, who was one of the first ones on the scene.

"Me and Daniel are both volunteers," Tom says about him and the Fire Captain. "The whole company is. We got about twenty firefighters plus our own ladder truck and pumper. An EMT runs a two-person crew twenty-four/seven. We managed to get it out pretty fast."

"Not fast enough," Tina says. "All these people... who would have such hatred?"

"Someone whose rage has been building for years. This unsub knew exactly what he was doing. He's been practicing for a long time with nuisance fires and vandalism. He may have even burned himself." Rossi sees you and introduces you to them. "Y/N, this is Tom Schultz and Tina Wheeler."

"Nice to meet you. I wish it was under different circumstances."

"Who you're describing sounds like every teenage boy who's ever grown up in Royal," Tina says. "I don't know if you noticed but there's really not a lot to do here."

"You have our reports. All the records are in there."

"Maybe so, but we all know there are times when things don't get reported. Times when you're just trying to protect someone and make the situation go away."

"We're just trying to help people out. Sometimes the best way to do that is to forget that it ever happened."

"We're gonna need to know about those times," you state.

"Fine. We'll get those to you as soon as possible."

There is no reason for you to be here anymore, so you head back to the police station to join the rest of the team. Hotch and JJ are back from the local gym where JJ was combing through the footage with Penelope to spot anyone suspicious.

"I have been through every piece of footage I could find. No one sticks out at the fires, no one appears to be inappropriately voyeuristic, and no one with bandages."

"Garica?"

"There's no firebug firefighter or flammable juvie records, however, of the one hundred and twenty-eight reported instances of petty larceny and vandalism in the last year, there are a few names that sort of stick out. I'm emailing you those photos. I also have a pattern of small gasoline fires about three hundred miles away in a town called Franklin. I also have a trash can fire, a Christmas tree fire, and an abandoned shed fire. I sent you that file, too."

"Thank you. Given the five-hundred-mile search radius, there's bound to be a certain percentage of nuisance fires. We can't necessarily attribute that to our unsub."

"That's true, but only seven percent of arsonists use wooden matches with a gasoline accelerant, and our unsub fits into that."

"What about the victims?" Hotch asks Penelope.

"Given that I had less than eight hours, I can't really--"

"I appreciate the time constraint. What have you found?"

Hotch isn't playing. He's looking for answers whether or not people are ready to give them.

"Uh, they're a mixture of ages and genders. They're mostly locals."

"Is there any crossover between the victims and the other two towns, Garcia?"

"This is a teeny tiny town. There is nothing but crossovers. Alex Nagel was killed in the rec center. Not only was he an upstanding member of the local church, but he also owned quite a bit of real estate in Royal, including the movie theater. Windy Kennedy, a single mother, was killed at the movie theater. She worked a double shift at the local discount store, and she still managed to find time to volunteer at the rec center. I also have a third-grade teacher, third cousins, and at least three potential affairs."

"You're gonna have to start weeding out some of these, Garcia. Third cousins and religious affiliations are probably not gonna help us. I need to know who had enemies, who had secrets, and who was a target."

"With all due respect, sir, my brain muscles are comfortable with being intuitive with information, not people. Looking at people like that is not part of my job description. I'm not a profiler."

"You're gonna have to be. We don't have much time. You two look into the nuisance fires. Garcia, stay on the radio."

You feel bad for Penelope for what Hotch is putting her through, but you understand why he's doing it. He's very stressed that more people are going to die, and you don't know where it'll happen, when it'll happen, and how many people will fall victim.

The people put together a mass funeral for those lives that were lost in the recent fire, and Hotch thought it was a good idea to go. The unsub might be part of that to see the damage he's caused. He's not going to target this group of people because he doesn't want to interrupt the grief he created. Your team went looking for someone with inappropriate behavior such as too much emotion, too little emotion, someone who keeps to himself, watching others' reactions, and someone who insinuates himself too closely into someone's grief.

You're focusing on known offenders with a propensity for arson, but no one fitting that description showed up to the funeral. While you were at the funeral, Penelope worked her way through a list of possible suspects including Brian Miller and John Clayton. Brian is eighteen and has been vandalizing property for almost all his life. John is twenty-seven and set his neighbor's garage on fire. He claimed it was an accident, but he filed a complaint the previous month that the neighbor killed his dog.

You're about to leave the funeral service when two fire trucks race past with their sirens on. Everyone starts panicking thinking the unsub is at it again, and the only people who leave to check it out is your team.

The unsub was never here. He was too busy setting another fire.

x

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#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fan fic #spencer reid fan fiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fan fiction #criminal minds fan fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst #criminal minds series rewrite #series rewrite #cm season 4

[fancyfeathers]

Society of Protection (Yandere Bungo Stray Dogs x reader x original characters) (normalized yandere au)

Chapter Five

The Truth Comes Out

Prologue and oc intro

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

You awoke the next day in Miss Jane Austen’s luxury apartment, you felt like you just had the best sleep of your life and you dreaded going back to your cramped apartment and that pile of bricks you call a bed. You sat up in bed with a long yawn before turning you head and looking to the table and chair that sat beside the window and you saw a whole breakfast spread, eggs, fried tomato, fried mushrooms, toast, bacon, strawberries, yogurt, apples, blueberries, oranges, and so on. You stood up and walked over to it and saw a note from Miss Jane. 

Please excuse my absence this morning, I have a meeting to tend to. Victor will be here at 8:30 to escort you to the Armed Detective Agency. I would advise you to be on your guard, I would be lying if I said I trusted them, because I don’t trust them as far as I can throw them which is not far at all. Do not give them information besides what you need to and even be careful what you share then.  I have Gaston looking into something specifically, he may not seem it but Gaston is highly intelligent, if anyone is able to solve this certain mystery I sent him on, it’s him. Speaking of mysteries, I have one to share with you tonight.

Your host,

Jane Austen

Some points in the letter made you question some things but you didn’t have time to wonder to much on things, it was 7:50 now so you had little over a half an hour to eat and get ready. You quickly scarfed down a few things set aside for you on the table, a few strawberries, eggs, and tomatoes. You quickly ran off to shower and change and by the time you were dressed you heard a knock on the bedroom door, it was Joan the maid. 

“Miss (Name), Mr. Hugo is here to escort you to the Armed Detective Agency.”

“Yes one moment, I need to grab my purse.” You said making your way out of the bathroom and into the bedroom proper, you grabbed the purse next your bed and headed out into the hallway and into the front entry where Victor stood along side Joan who held your coat. Victor looked shaken up to a degree, like he didn’t sleep well the night prior. As you took your jacket and slipped it on you asked. “How did your meeting go last night, Victor?”

“Huh?” Victor jumped at you question, almost as if he was scared of it, but then he quickly calmed himself down with deep breaths before answering. “F-fine, it went fine… perfectly fine.” 

You raised an eyebrow but decided not to press any further. You two began the walk to the Armed Detective Agency in silence. Victor’s head facing up to the sky, seeming to be watching the clouds as you two walk. Then he quietly speaks, almost meekly. “I know you aren’t well off on money to hire private detectives. I’ll pay for it.” You glanced at him in pure shock as soon as he said this and you were about to speak up but he cut you off. “No buts, I am paying. It won’t even make a dent in my bank account, don’t worry, and please don’t pay me back.”

“I-I… thank you Victor… I may not be able to pay you back in cash but is there something else I can do to pay you back?” 

He thought about it for a long second before looking back down at you and smiling. “Don’t give up, no matter what happens.” He reaches over to your hand and intertwines his with your own as the two of you walk and his voice is tender and soft, not meek anymore. “Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.”

—————————

Meanwhile on the other end of Yokohama two women stand on a private airport, in a small parking lot not too far off from the runways and a plane that had just landed, two cars behind them, each with a private chauffeur. One of the woman is a familiar sight, Miss Jane Austen, only now she is dressed in more outdoor clothing, still fitting for the Regency period, only now it was a green dress with frills on the skirt and she wore it with a matching shell and white hat with a green ribbon. Next to her was an unfamiliar woman with black hair tightly pulled back in a bun and silver glasses that rested on her nose, she herself wore more simple clothes but they still had a formality about them, a long black skirt that went to the knees, a tight vest, a white button up, and a green tie. The two woman stood there waiting before the unfamiliar woman spoke up. “Jane, are you sure about all this. Making this big of a move may upset Fitzgerald.”

Jane sighed and shook her head. “That man will be upset at me no matter what I do, as long as it’s away from him he’ll always be upset. Besides I know Francis and he doesn’t give his word lightly, he is going to do something,” Jane adjusted herself slightly to stand up taller, but she never broke her gaze from straight ahead, right at the door of the plane. “This will simply make sure Francis knows this isn’t some little game I’m playing to get his attention and that I’m serious about what I do. Trust me, Robbie.”

“Fine Jane, just don’t call me that around the others when they get here.” Robbie glanced down at the shorter woman as she said this to Jane. Jane had a large smile on her face and nudged Robbie with her elbow.

“Why not? We’re friends after all, and it’s just like when we were little girls back in England.” Jane giggled, covering her mouth with her gloved hand.

“It’s alright when we’re alone, but please just call me Dr. Stevenson in front of the others.” 

“Alright,��Dr. Stevenson .” Jane’s tone was teasing and full of giggles that only made the doctor smile and roll her eyes. At that same time the airplane door opened as soon at the ramp down was placed in front of it by the ground crew. Out stepped in a line four people, three men and a woman.

“Oh Lady Austen, how wonderful tis to see you again and in good health.” It was a young man who called out, brown hair, golden glasses, covered in freckles and a blue jacket that went down to his knees. He was an energetic young man, this voice full of life.

“Mr. Shakespeare, I see you are full of energy perusal.” Jane said as they reached the solid ground. Jane looked to the woman in the arriving ground and gave a curtsy and smile. “Baroness Orczy, you look as beautiful as ever.”

Emma Orczy was a stunning woman, she wore a long scarlet dress that went down to her feet and it was covered in frills and flowering details,on her head was a white hat with a red bow on the back. She gave Miss Jane a nod but not showing much emotion. “Lady Jane, it is nice to work with you once more.”

The Doctor was approached by the two young men, a blond dressed simply in a white button up, black pants, and a red ribbon tied around his collar. Along him stood a brunette with his hair of slicked back and dressed up with a red scarf, and red ruby earrings. The doctor smiled at the two of them. “Mr. Ibsen, Mr. Carroll. Thank you for coming all this way on such notice.” 

The blond, Henrik Ibsen only nodded, not speaking a work. The brunette, Lewis Carroll reached out and shook the doctor’s hand with much enthusiasm. “It was no problem what so ever, doc. This is a good opportunity to test a few ideas I have brewing in my head.” Lewis giggled at that, almost madly and that sent shivers down the doctor’s spine.

“I-I see, that’s well and good, I-I suppose.” The doctor wasn’t a nervous woman but Lewis wasn’t the most sane and that was painfully obvious and his ability wasn’t a pleasant thing to witness. At that Miss Jane clapped her hands together and everyone fell silent and looked at the lady.

“Alright, Lewis and Henrik, you are going to go to base with the doctor and get settled. William and Emma you are to come with me, I have a package to deliver and could need some muscle.” Jane spoke, her smile never fading then… when she spoke again, it did, leaving her face with a more serious expression than anyone here has seen her with. “This is war, and we must not forget that. We must’n be toppled by the enemy, we must stand with our feet firmly in the ground and push back.”

—————————

You and Victor arrived at the agency and you were let in by a young girl in a school uniform, odd. You pushed that thought aside as you were sat down at a couch and soon an older man dressed in traditional clothes sat across you along with a younger man with black hair, and the man from the cafe, Dazai was it? Victor’s hand reminded wrapped around your own and the older man speaks not much emotion coming through with his voice. “How may we help you two today?”

“Um… well last night my apartment was broken into last night and earlier that day I had a minor run in with the Port Mafia where I work at, a flower shop. One of them bought roses from there and I think the person who broke into my apartment framed it to look like the mafia.” You paused and thought on your words, not confident to look anyone in the eyes. “My friend, Gaston, said I should come here… I don’t know what to do.”

The older man pressed his lips together as he thought before speaking after a long moment of silence. “I’m afraid we cannot do anything to help you at the present moment, if it was a harmless situation. Young lady, you are probably over thinking things.” Then he turned to Victor. “And you, are you responsible for her, is she yours?”

A shocked expression came across Victor’s face that soon turned into one of anger. “No, she’s my friend. A break in sir, that isn’t harmless. To hell with what is acceptable now day, that behavior shouldn’t be excus-“

“Young man, please watch your-“

“Tone?” Victor cut him off with a mocking voice and she should his head. “No I don’t think I will. I don’t know what I expected from this place, just thought you would be better. You disgust me, excusing behavior like this.”

“Victor, calm down please.” You squeezed Victor’s hand, trying to calm down the usual timid man. He sighed and squeezed back. You looked at the three detectives and gave an apologetic smile. “We’ll be taking our leave now, I apologize for my friend’s behavior.”

“I’m not sorry though, (Name).” Victor muttered as the two of you stood up. You lead him out with his hand still connected to yours. “Gaston will figure this mess out, I don’t know why we came here in the first place.”

Now with the two of you gone it left the three detectives alone. Dazai’s eyes were still on the door, narrowed as he spoke. “Something isn’t right with that girl. It’s the second time I have seen her with foreigners, specifically from Europe.”

The older man looked at Dazai with the same stern expression. “Do you think she is connected to The Guild?”

“Not quite, but I believe this conflict has much more players involved than we thought.” He hummed as he thought for a moment before speaking up again. “Rampo, can you look into European organizations, societies, groups, so on. Or even just the name, Gaston Leroux… something is off here.”

The detective nodded. “I am already aware that’s a European composer, never listened to his music, but I believe he is quite well know in France specifically.”

“Yes he is, and something tells me he’s much more than just his music.”

“Dazai, do you think he is an ability user?” The older name asked, a slight curiosity showing in his voice.

“Think? No, I know he has an ability.”

—————————

Miss Jane sat in the back of the car, Emma and William sitting across from her. Jane stared out the window, a blank expression on her face. They sat in silence for most of the drive, William reading a novel that be found in an archive in Verona, Emma touching up her nails. Then Emma broke the silence. “Permission to ask a question, Miss Austen?”

“Yes, Baroness.”

“What exactly happened between you and Fitzgerald?”

Jane didn’t turn head to look at Emma, she just hummed and thought for a long moment before turning to look at Jane, a blank expression on her face. “He’s stuck in the past, wanting the life we once had, but nothing can bring back the dead.”

William looked around the car and took a breath in. “What's gone, and what's past help, should be past grief.”

Emma looked at William with a confused expression. “What are you on about now, poet?”

William smiled and closed his eyes with an almost sleepy expression. “Oh nothing that your noble mind would understand. And also, I’m a thespian, not a poet.”

“Just shut up.” Emma rolled her eyes and smirked, resting her gloved hand against her cheek. “I can’t believe I married you.”

“See how she leans her cheek upon her hand. O, that I were a glove upon that hand that I might touch that cheek!” William smiles, opening his eyes to stare at his wife. “But my rose, we not legally married for the world would not allow our love. We are together only in our hearts, for even god has turned his face from us.”

“One day that will change my friends.” Jane said, looking out the window once more. “I promise it.” Then the car stopped and Jane smiled and turn to her two companions. “Seems like we have arrived to the drop off.”

There was a flash of light and sounds of screams and blood and then silence, but everyone in the car were perfectly calm. Then the driver stepped out and walked around to open the door for the passengers. “M’lady seems like things are a tad rough, are you sure?”

Jane smiled and waved him off. “It’s alright, my good sir. I will be quite alright.” She glanced over at William and Emma and waved to the two of them. “Come along now, no time like the present.”

The three stepped out, a park, but in the center of the park plaza were bodies laying unconscious, members of the Armed Detective Agency, the Port Mafia. Then in front of the unconscious bodies were a group people, walking off away from the bodies. Jane began walking toward them and called out, interrupting their conversation. “Please wait a moment.”

The six of them turned to look at the three society members. If looks could kill, the annoyed look from the southern belle woman and preacher would have murdered the three of them. The red haired man of the group, who was showing too much skin in Jane’s opinion, sighed. “So much for an easy job, looks like we left three of ‘em.”

Jane giggled and shook her head. “No, no, not at all, I’m not with the Armed Detective Agency of the Port Mafia. I have a letter to give to you all, well Fitzgerald specifically.” Jane reached into her hand bag and pulled out an envelope, and handed it off to the preacher fellow who looked it over without opening it.

“And who might you be?” The preacher said, his voice sharp. “And why should I give this to him?”

“Oh well… call me the one who got away. Trust me when I say, Fitzgerald will be wanting to reach it, call it… a declaration.” This sudden statement made the southern belle’s eye twitch and it seemed like she was ready to explode.

“Why you little! I should just turn you into ashes for that.” As she spoke a golden glow began to circle the three of them but before anything happened the blond man with the overalls, who you know as John, grabbed her hand, a panicked expression on his face. “Why did you stop me? They are poking around in places they shouldn’t.”

“Margaret! She’s the woman in the portrait that the boss keeps!” John turns to face Jane. “You’re his wife, Zeld-“

“ That is not my name anymore! ” Jane shouted out at the young man. Her face turned into a scowl, an expression of pure anger, not normal for the beautiful woman. “ My name is Jane Austen, you will do well to remember that. For I do not belong to Francis and I never will! ”

“You do not get to speak such words!” The southern belle raised her hand, raising it down to attempt to strike Jane across the face. Jane snapped her fingers and Emma took out a dagger and cut her own arm with it, from the blood emerged a red fog that engulfed the Guild members. They coughed and wheeze, but by the time the fogged cleared, Jane, Emma, and William were gone, the car t hat brought the three of them as well. The Guild members looked around in confusion but there were no society members in sight. They all looked down at the simple envelope that was given to them. 

The preacher turned the envelope over in his hands, but still not opening it. “It seems we have met Mrs. Fitzgerald.”

—————————

After that meeting with the agency you were escorted to work by Victor before he ran off to tend to something, Ms. Haruka was there today. She was in the back while you were busy pruning the plants. You hummed along with a song that played on the radio while you works, it was a catchy song that played almost everyday with how popular it was.

“M’lady, good to see you again.” You heard a voice call out behind you and turned to see the blond farmer boy from a few days ago, John, you think. He coughs as he walks over to you, almost like he had just been walking through smoke. “Thought I would stop by and pick up something, more seeds and what not.”

“Oh sure, I think we have some more on the shelves.” You said smiling at him, then he started to cough again which made you worry. “Are you alright John, I can get you some water if you need it.”

“No, no, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine, I just had a run in with some interesting folks. My boss’s wife actually.” He said waving your worry off. “Zelda Fitzgerald I think.” Your eyes widened, Fitzgerald? As in the the leader of the Guild?

“Fitzgerald? Wait does that mean you work for-“

“The Guild? I do, it’s not the most ideal work but it pays well.” John cuts you off, answering your question before you could finish it. “Anyway, I feel pretty bad for her she has these delusions that she isn’t his wife anymore, even calls herself a different name and everything. I’m trying to remember what it was…” he thinks for a moment before snapping his fingers as he remembers. “Jane Austen, that’s it.”

Your stomach sank in shock, they person your staying with was the wife of the leader of The Guild. You swallowed down the gasp you were about to let out  and smile, keeping your shaking hands folded against the other. “Well that’s just  silly isn’t it? Well anyway we do have some seeds restocked in the shop proper.”

“Silly, yes that’s right.” You couldn’t stop your hands from shaking and this didn’t go unnoticed by John, his eyes went from yours down to you hands and then back up you your eyes. “Do you mind showing me where the seeds are, I can’t quite remember?”

You nodded and turned to lead John into the shop, but as you did he grabbed onto your wrist and leaned over to your ear and whispered. “Your hands are shaking. You’re hiding something and I know it, trust me the truth always comes out.” You gasped and spun around and John released your hand and looked at you like nothing was wrong. “The seeds?”

“Y-yes, follow me.”

—————————

At closing, Ms. Haruka walked you to the Europeans’ apartment building and you rushed upstairs to Miss Jane’s apartment. You slammed open the door, ignoring Joan as she tried to take your coat. You rushed into the living room and saw Jane, Gaston, Victor, along with (while you didn’t know them yet), Alexandre, Dr. Stevenson, William, Emma, Henrik, and Lewis, all sitting down on the couches or standing nearby. Miss Jane stood up from her chair and walked over to you. “Miss (Name), is there something wrong.”

“T-the Guild, John, he showed up at my work.” You breathed out. “I think he knows I know you. You’re Fitzgerald’s darling, aren’t you?”

A gasp was heard all around the room and everyone stood in stunned silence. Miss Jane sighed and nodded. “I was once, yes. But that was a lifetime ago, and sometimes the past is best left forgotten and dead. I am no longer Zelda Fitzgerald.” She took your hand in her gloved hand and gave it a soft squeeze. “My name is Jane Austen, leader and founder of the Society of Protection and I think it’s about time you were told the truth to the mystery of why we are here in Yokohama.”

#yandere bungo stray dogs x reader #yandere bungou stray dogs #yandere bsd #original character x reader #bungou stray dogs oc #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #yandere dazai #yandere chuuya #yandere mark twain #yandere mori ougai #yandere Fukuzawa #Yandere Edgar Allan Poe #Yandere John Steinbeck #yandere fyodor

[ask-missparker]

The reckless denial | Agents Of SHIELD Fic

Setting: Takes place during season 2

Characters mentioned: Skye, Fitzsimmons, Mack, Coulson, Rick Banner, Luna Marsh, Cole Lehnsherr and Liane Felton

Established Pairing: Rick & Luna

Fic type: Blurb

———

—Last said in the last post…

And most importantly, Amelia undergoes an even more shocking turn of events due to shield discovery of alien, inhuman and mutant activity across the country. During an trip to Puerto Rico, one of islands underneath the caves held the rumbling ability to unlock unhinged truths.

While Skye and Tripp were down there, in the mist of the explosive wave that resulted in Skye’s odd transformation, Amelia was effected in the blast getting hurt as she watched Tripp die.

But that wasn’t the only thing that happened…

Amelia woke up on the thick warmly crumbling ground with a splitting headache cause she was throw against a deep wall in the cave. She bleed a bit from the blast, seem to have taken a strong impressionable hit.

She rolled onto her chest, pushing herself to stand up as she winced racing around to the edge to only looked over to notice Tripp’s in crumbling ashes. Dead, as if he was turned to stone then been destroyed within a matter of seconds.

She noticed Skye on standing there, surrounded by dust and rock, as the whole place was rumbling and pillars were falling apart within the cave. She looked at her with fear, confusion, and surreal shock as her fists were uncurling themselves.

Amelia didn’t hesitate to hover a hand over Skye’s back ushering her out of the cave, as she helped lead everyone out of there as safety as possible. The rumbling continued frequently as they all moved along the path then stopped by the women they reached most of the other half of the team.

~~~~

Some time later, everyone returned back to the SHIELD facility, being looked over and being patched up for any damage. Skye was quickly moved into a separate clear room, being watched up machines, scientist and medical staff until further noticed.

She was basically in quarantine for a while, meanwhile everyone else was doing their best to figure out happens next. Everyone was quarantined for a bit to heal and release whatever might’ve been in their system from the swimming blast.

Fitzsimmons were suspicious as they ran tests on her state. They all were suspicious at how Skye was still standing but seemingly hurt.

Her vitals were interesting to say the least, Amelia was more than curious about it as she took recommended Advil for her headaches during the whole situation. Hell, they were grieving Tripp’s death in their own way! She noticed everyone’s cyclone ways of dealing with the aftermath of the storm they were all hit with.

A storm of emotions filled with sadness, anger, anxiety, depression and straight up denial of it all. Trying to forget everything happened but they couldn’t. Hell they were ready to fight one another and throw a few chairs. Skye was shaking and crying at the mere thought because she was the one to see the process of his death, everyone just saw the aftermath. Blaming herself as Amelia and Coulson comforted her, knowing it wasn’t her fault even though it felt like it was to her.

~~~

To keep herself from getting too overwhelmed and wanting to smack someone like Mack or race off to use Hunter as a mini punching bag, she decided to escape to Avengers Tower for a bit due to not being there in a while.

The consuming energy that floated around Amelia as she watched and hung out with friends such Rick, Liane and Luna calmed her down. They asked her what happened but she was under strict orders to not say much of the circumstances to her visit, despite the fact that she wanted to let them know. Assuming it was on the news right now of the rumbling from Puerto Rico and tunnels being collapsed.

Rick being the more cautious person there, sensed something was off about her energy. He sniffed an underwhelming amount of concern and denial from her but he sensed something more, after hearing about the strong headaches. And the fact that seemed to have not slept in a long period of time. Luna was more than curious about it all and wondered what happened, promising to not tell the others as Amelia pointed to the TV screen and slowly explained how there was a swimming blast that knocked her out cold. She tried to connect the dots.

Liane’s firey personality was suspicious and skeptical of Amelia Parker, wanting to figure out what exactly happened to her physically after hearing the story beats of her tale. She watched her fingers tinker, her eyes narrow as of she was having another headache, almost nervous like Luna. Imitating her impressions and anxiety from curiosity that surged into her veins, as Liane grinned as her and Rick went to talk.

It confused and concerned Amelia as she stayed talking with Luna at how much they felt about the situation. One moment she’s fine and another she’s feeling ticked off due to Rick and Liane’s dispute as Luna kept wanting to ease her mind.

~~~~

It felt like her head was hurting, spinning as she sense the uprising engulfed energetic personalities bounce off from one another. Like she can sense their feelings battling to stay a bay. Amelia thought back to the argument at the SHIELD between Mack, Bobbi, Coulson, May, Hunter and herself as she sensed Skye’s discomfort for a split second, yelling over everyone to cool down separately.

This anxiety written feeling crept up her back, feeling hot and heavy blinking between Luna and the table in the living room. As if her vision went blurry for a moment, like she might pass out. Luna held her up and asked if she was alright, with her own powers she could sense she was freaking out as she called for Rick and Liane for help.

Luna gasped greatly noticing a flicker in Amelia’s eyes then disappeared just as quickly. She barely saw any color in her eyes.

~~~~

Rick raced in surprise to see Amelia having a anxiety attack, it was rarely a thing to see with her always being just fine, but it concerned him watching her as he tried to help calm her down. It reminded him of himself but less strong but still there something that didn’t match up, sensing a slight denial difference taking in her whole appearance as it clicked. She was effected, traumatized by it all.

Luna moved over to let Amelia have some space to breathe, as she never good at calming others down without getting scared or anxious herself. Especially after seeing what she saw and whispered it into Liane’s ear.

Liane gasped and almost screamed hearing her, noticing some things as Luna did more promptly. The subtle shifts and movements that Amelia made, as she glanced at the girls and back at Rick with almost a glare, sensing the same as him, something was going on.

She quickly calmed down, as her glares soften thinking about Skye for a slip second and the whole fact that Fitzsimmons was suspicious of everything, running test on a couple of people like Mack while she was gone. Her focused returned to the trio because as she zoned out, they were talking among themselves.

~~~

Then she heard it.

Liane out of curiosity and excitement yelled, “OH MY GOD SHE IS ONE OF US! Another mutant of some kind?!” Luna gasped looking back at her friend questioning how is it possible but she was interested. Rick was the most confused being a man of espionage and science fiction, he wondered the extent of this difference, if it was something semi-permanent or long lasting. But a part of him was intrigued.

But Amelia was recklessly in denial about all of it. The shock, sorrow and questions didn’t wrap around her head, yet. She was a normal human being, an agent of SHIELD and got examined earlier by Fitzsimmons, her vitals were fine.

Suddenly Cole busted through the door and shouted, “Ah ha! I knew something was suspicious was going on the second she wanted into the room!”

Rick rolled his eyes and snorted as Luna chuckled. Liane smirked. Meanwhile Amelia raised an eyebrow at her best friend, “Your unbelievable sometimes, you know that?”

Cole just grinned.

~~

—> Thanks for reading. ✨That’s what I got! Comment down below with ideas and reblog your thoughts

Tags: @missstrawbs2001 @purpleprincessonfyre @meiramel @gcthvile @rickb-chaos @gaminggirlsstuff @wizzzardofoz @mallowbee4 @thechoooooosenone @luna-d-marsh @sherloquestea @rooster-84 @starkleila and etc

#agents of shield #marvel blurb #mcu fanfiction #mcu x oc #aos fanfic #daisy johnson #fitzsimmons #leo fitz #jemma simmons #young avengers #agents of shield oc #agents of shield fanfic #agents of shield season 2 #grant ward x reader #avengers fanfiction #phil coulson #fyeahmarvelocs #daisy & mia

[dahliamae]

Maybe he isn't so bad. Steve Harrington x Female Reader

*Not my gif*

wc: 2975

Warnings: language, some smut but not full blown, fluff, angst, Some Billy encounters.

Summary: y/n l/n and Steve "The Hair" Harrington have never gotten along. Maybe it’s the fact that they butt heads constantly or maybe it’s the fact that they may be just a bit too similar.

𓋼𓍊𓋼𓋼𓍊𓋼𓋼𓍊𓋼𓋼𓍊𓋼𓋼𓍊𓋼𓋼𓍊𓋼𓋼𓍊𓋼𓋼𓍊𓋼𓋼𓍊𓋼𓋼𓍊𓋼𓋼𓍊𓋼𓋼𓍊𓋼

Steve Harrington is nothing but a douchebag, and people can understand why. Popularity, parties, women throwing themselves at him, being the basketball and swim captain all got into his tiny little brain and turned him into this douche. A douche that I hate. 

The day started off like any other day at Hawkins High, the cold breeze swept through the school as the door opened and brought in the students, along with some leaves. The breeze against my frame sent chills up my spine as I walked towards my locker with my headphones on blasting Girls On Film by Duran Duran. Groaning as I saw him walking by laughing his ass off about something one of his friends said. Finally, after opening my locker, I quickly grabbed my textbook and notebook for US History. 

-

“Now class, we’re coming up on our first project of the year! How exciting, I know!” Mr. Martin stated with a half-smile as the class groaned.

“And for this project I want to pick your partners, and with that new partner you’ll be next to them during class! It’s time to mingle and make some new friends, what do you say?” He smiled as he stuck his hand in the bowl and swished around the folded-up papers.

“Okay..First up! Tommy and Katie!” he exclaimed as Tommy looked back and glared at the small framed girl, who shrunk in her seat. As he continued, I realized my choices were getting slimmer by the second.

“Oh! The last two pieces! You know what that means y/n and Steve, you’re partners!”

Before I could groan Steve shot up, “There’s no fucking way I’m going to be with her. Mr. Martin please, just let two groups have three people.” 

“Steve, be polite. Either go sit next to y/n or take a zero for the project.” Mr. Martin stated as his eyes narrowed.

As Steve sunk down next to me, I sighed and open my notebook. “So, uh, I have cheer practice tonight and I know you have basketball practice. How about after practice you come over and we can throw out some ideas?” I stated as I played with the paper in my notebook, rage filling me as he groaned.

“Sorry princess, but there’s a party tonight. How about you figure it out by yourself?” He smirked

“Or how about I meet you at the party and talk about it. I’m not doing all the work again, help me out Steven” I glared.

“Okay okay fine. After practice I’ll be there, but only for an hour or two. I can’t be seen with you at the party. And for the last time, my name isn’t Steven.” 

“Okay Steven. But I’ll be getting ready while you’re there, so bring your notepad” I giggled as I grabbed my stuff and walked out as the bell rang.

-

As I walked into the gym with my pom-poms and the other girls trailing behind, I could smell the disgusting smell of the basketball boys sweat. I sighed as I sat down to tie my shoes and start the practice.

“I heard your project partner is Steve Harrington, that must be so great.” Cindy giggled as she plopped down next to me.

“You know how I feel about Harrington. I’d rather choke than be his partner for another project” I sighed as I stretched out. 

“Hey! How about you actually do something with your girls instead of gossiping about my hotness” Steve shouted from the court.

I rolled my eyes as I stood up and started the practice, ignoring the boys comments the rest of practice. 

-

As practice ended, I grabbed my pom-poms and headed towards the exit.

“Hey, wait up” Billy yelled at he jogged up to me.

“Oh, hey Billy, what’s up?” I smiled up at the handsome man.

“Just wondering if you were going to the party tonight. I need to see the hottest cheerleader make her entrance.” 

“Well, you know me, I’ll be there. But Harrington is coming over beforehand so we can start our project” I sighed as I rolled my eyes.

“What a shame that Harrington is your partner and not me, sweet cheeks. You know maybe I’ll see if Harrington will switch partners with me. That way, you and I can both be happy, maybe even forget to do the project because we’ll be too busy with other-“ Billy stated before getting shoved my Steve.

“She’s my partner, go fuck yours instead” Steve glared as he pulled you back from Billy.

Pushing back from Steve I groaned, “I don’t need you saving me from Billy. Maybe I wanted him to make his move, Steven”

“For the last time, it’s Steve. Now let’s go to your place and get this over with” He stated as he grabbed my arm, pulling me to his car. 

His car filled with the smell of his cologne, musky yet sweet, filled my nostrils as I slid into the passenger seat. The engine roared to life as he pulled into reverse and left the parking lot.

“You know Steve, I’m not one of those kids you babysit. I could’ve drove myself home” I stated as my eyes traveled to his cassette collection on the passenger seat floor.

“Y/N, will you just shut up? You should be thanking me for saving you from Billy. Just get a ride from Cindy tomorrow, alright?” He choked out as he gripped the steering wheel.

“Thanking you? For what? Saving me from an attractive man? Steven, you’re not the only one who needs to get laid y’know.” 

“I swear to god, it’s fucking Steve. How hard is it for you to grasp my fucking name, y/n?” 

“Well, if I can’t call you Steven then I’ll call you Stevie, sound good?” I smirked as I popped in his Duran Duran cassette.

He rolled his eyes and white knuckled the steering wheel as he continued down the road. Leaving the rest of the car ride silent.

-

As I opened the front door and kicked off my shoes I looked back at Steve.

“You’ve been here before for parties, Stevie. You know where everything is, make yourself comfortable. I’m going to hop into the shower really quick.” Before he could complain I jogged up the stairs to the bathroom connected to my room. 

Quickly stripping down I got into the shower, making sure to pin my hair up beforehand. As I quietly hum, I shave and wash my body then jump back out. Wrapping my towel around my body I walk out of the bathroom and into my room. Steve sitting quietly on my bed, head resting against the backboard and his long legs crossed at the ankles. He glanced up and his eyes widened as he saw my current state.

“Jesus Y/N, ever heard of clothes?” He stated as he quickly turned his head towards the windows.

“Uh yeah Steven I have, that’s what I’m grabbing right now” I giggled as I grabbed a dark gray lacy pair of underwear from my dresser.

“Keep your head turned for a few seconds or I’ll tell everyone at school that King Steve Harrington is a pervert” I stated as I quickly dropped my towel and put on the underwear.

“For your information, my head is turned and I’m not a pervert Y/N” 

“Yeah, sure Stevie. Just let me finish getting dressed and he can get started” I finished as I threw on an ex-boyfriend’s flannel and a pair of pajama shorts. I softly moved across the room to put on a vinyl then softly sat at the edge of the bed. He slowly shifted his head towards me and gave me a small smile.

“You know L/N, your room is different than I expected. I expected it to be overly pink and girly. I didn’t think it could be so, uh I don’t know, grungy?” He chuckled as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Surprising I know. But anyways, let’s get started. Let’s just get a topic picked and decide what kind of project we want to do. Then you’re free to leave, how’s that sound?” I smiled softly as I grabbed my notebook and pen.

“You’re not going to the party anymore?” “Oh, I am. I’ll just walk or call Billy to grab me. Plus, I’ll take forever to get ready. I may be mean, but I’m not mean enough to make you sit through that process.”

“No no, I insist that I bring you. I was the ass who made you leave your car at the school. How about you start getting ready while we discuss the project?”

I nodded as I went and sat on my stool in front of my vanity. “Do you want to borrow some of my exes’ clothes instead of sitting in your practice clothes? You can shower if you want as well.”

He stood up quietly and went to the drawer that held my ex’s stuff. “Well, it depends, what ex is it?” 

“Oh, your personal favorite, William. His stuff should fit you though, and it’s been so long since anyone has worn it so I doubt anyone would guess it’s Will’s.” I stated as started putting on a simple makeup look.

“Ugh, I can’t believe you dated him and for so long. Like c’mon Y/N way to waste almost all of your high school career dating one narcissistic asshole.” He quickly grabbed a pair of pants, sweater and socks then headed towards the bathroom door.

“Hey! You’re one to talk about narcissism, Steven. Now go shower before I change my mind” I glared as he closed the door. Focusing back on my makeup I did a simple eye look with brown eyeshadow and a little eyeliner. I finished putting some blush on and started in on my hair, just fixing a few strands that seemed out of place. After I was finished, I grabbed a cropped black shirt, some ripped up mom jeans, and some black high-top converse, quickly putting it all on. Finishing the look by putting on some gold rings and necklace. 

Walking over to the bathroom door knocking against the wooden frame. 

“Come in” Steve replied softly behind the door. I walked in and Steve stood there with Will’s pants on, fitting him snug around the places it mattered, and shirtless.

“Sorry, I just need to brush my hair and then we can start.” He smiled and he combed through his grown outgrown locks.

“Oh perfect, you were taking so long I thought you fell or got sucked down the drain by a monster, Stevie” 

He stiffened as the last of the sentence came out and laughed stiffly, “I’m here, don’t worry. Let’s get started, it’s almost 8:30.”

Softly sitting on the bed, I stared at him, the way his bangs, his rich brown locks, fell close to his eyes. His eyes, his soft brown eyes that looked like they belonged to a sad child. His shoulders that closed in around him, as if he wanted to hide away.

“Stevie, how about we talk about the project a different time. You seem upset, what’s bothering that brain of yours?” I asked softly as he slowly sunk down next to me.

“Me? I’m good, don’t worry. How about this weekend you come over and we work on it? How does around one sound?” He stated softly as he looked over at me.

I nodded as I stood up to put on my sneakers, “well, want to head out now then? I know on Fridays you like to start early.” He nodded and led the way down the stairs and out to his car.

-

Walking through the front door of Tommy’s house with Steve Harrington right in front of me, one of his large hands on the small of your back, guiding me inside the stuffy and crowded house. I slowly looked up at him and noticed he was already staring down at me.

“Beer, punch, water, or shots to start the night, baby?” He smirked as my eyes widened at his pet name.

“Um I’ll do a beer please, thanks Stevie” I barely got out before Billy wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me into his warm almost sweaty chest. 

“There you are Y/N, almost missed my keg stand. How about you come with and watch what a real man can do?” He whispered into my ear as he grabbed my arm and pulled me out towards the pool. I looked back at Steve and gave him a sad smile as he turned his back grabbing our drinks. Outside everyone was cheering for Billy, some of the girls pulling him away from me so they could get his full attention.

“Back up, sweethearts. I’ll show you my favorite party trick” He stated as he had his friends help him set up for the keg stand. I sat in one of the lawn chairs smirking, knowing nobody could beat King Steve’s record. 

Watching the leftover beer spill over Billy’s chest as he went to light a cigarette, his eyes surveying the crowd until he stopped on me.

“That’s how you do it, Hawkins!” He yelled at he pulled me up by my waist and kiss me roughly. 

“That’s how you get the girls, Hawkins. Beat King Steve records-“  “Hey Hargrove, how about you find a different chick to kiss” Steve yelled as he pulled Billy away from me.

“Oh Harrington, jealous, are we? Little Harrington upset I got the hot piece of ass, and you didn’t? Get used to it, this is my town now” He smirked as he pressed up on Steve, pushing his broad chest out.

“Steve, Billy, both of you are being ridiculous. Last I checked I wasn’t anyone’s piece of ass” I stated as I shoved in between the two men, grabbing my beer from Steve.

“Y/N please, let’s go” Steve whispered as he grabbed my forearm, pulling me back into the house.

“No, fuck you Harrington. I’m not some piece of ass for you. I’m your project partner. I’m the cheerleader that does the stupid chants that help you win. Nothing more” I screamed as I pushed my pointer finger into his chest.

“No, see that where you’re wrong” He whispered as he tightened his grip on my forearm and pulled me up the stairs. Peeping his head into every room until he found the only empty room and flung me in while he shut the door.

“Sit down if you know what’s good for you, sweetheart” he growled and he shed his sweater. As I said down on the edge of the bed and came over, placing both of his arms on either side of me, boxing me in. 

“Now Y/N. You’re going to tell me that Billy Hargrove is a better man than me? I don’t think so.” “Well Stevie, he’s not the one who drug me through the house and locked me in a room” I answered above a whisper staring up at him doe eyed.

“You’re mine until the end of time, do you understand?” He whispered, his face mere inches from my face. His hot breath that smells like beer and cigarettes washing over me. I nodded slowly and laid back softly. He groaned as my top raised, exposing more of my stomach.

“Oh look, what’s this here, little miss perfect?” He smirked as he pulled my top off.

“A tattoo between your breasts, just for me?” His large pointer finger tracing the inked vines and flowers. I nodded and gasped as his hand went over my breast.

“Just kiss me, Stevie” I whispered as I pulled him down to me. Our lips connecting and feeling like fire. Felt wrong but so right at the same time. I should push him off and leave this party. I hate Steve Harrington, but I love the way he's treating me right now.

His big arms pulled me into his body as he kissed down my neck, “I’m going to fuck you and you’re going to moan so loud everyone in this party will hear” he growled in between his kisses and bites. 

“In your fucking dreams Harrington” I smirked as I flipped us, putting me straddling his thighs.

“Last I checked, I was going to fuck you since you want to talk such big shit. I hate you, Steve Harrington” I whispered as I unzipped his pants and slipped my hands into his boxers. Slowly palming his cock as he groaned softly, “how does that sound, baby?” 

Slowly pulling away I stripped off his pants and boxers, watching his cock spring up and slap his stomach. He sat up slowly and left his mouth wide open as I stripped out of my jeans and underwear. Bare in front of Steve Harrington is not how I thought this night would go.

-

Laying on top of his sweaty body, gasping for breath. He chuckled softly below me and wrapped his large arms around my waist.

“Y/N, look at me” He whispered as he tugged my hair behind my ears. I slowly lifted my body and laid down next to him, glancing up at his worn-out face.

“I’m sick of acting like I hate you. Give me a chance. I’ll be better than William and ten times better than Hargrove” He whispered as he pulled me in kissing my lips in between certain words.

“Maybe you’re not so bad, Harrington. I’ll give you a shot” I smiled against his lips and placed my hand on his broad chest.

“Good, how about after discussing our project we go out to dinner?” He smiled as he kissed my forehead.

Since that day I’ve been wrapped around Steve Harrington’s finger, through battles with Russians and monsters, through the downfall of King Steve, we’ve stuck beside one another. Always wrapping one another’s wounds and being there when the other woke up from nightmare. 

-

Hello!! This is my first fic in forever. Please let me know if anything is wrong or what your thoughts are! Thank you for supporting! 🥰

#steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington fanfiction #steve x reader #steve stranger things

[draculasfavoritewife]

I Still Want You

Summary: It's been awhile since the two of you last worked together, but some things will never change.

Pairing: Madmartigan x fem!Reader

Warnings: Brief references to injury and alcohol use, some sexist jokes and sensuality (look, I physically cannot stop writing about reader running their fingers through pretty men's hair, alright? It's an actual problem guys).

So my family finally made me sit down and watch the original Willow film this past summer, and I ended up pretty smitten with this man lol. What can I say, the fallen-from-grace type with a flexible moral code and piercing eyes just really does it for me I guess. 🤷🏽‍♀️ (Also young Val Kilmer in drag? Kinda hot.)

"I don't know why the hell I let you talk me into this load of bull," you groan, a hand covering your exasperated face. "Why, in the name of all that's holy, did I leave behind my honest living to follow you into this harebrained scheme?"

The man next to you throws you a wide and winning smile, blue eyes flashing in the dim light. "Cause you didn't want me to come back to you dead," he says with a knowing smugness. "You love me."

"Did I say that?"

"You didn't have to," he teases, leaning down to saucily kiss your forehead before readjusting the woman's dress that doesn't quite fully hide his very masculine form. "Now, how do I look?"

You roll your eyes and crawl to your feet in the cramped cellar where he had chosen to make his quick change. "He's going to see through you in a second."

Your companion frowns, dark brows sulky and full lips pouting like a petulant child. "Please. The old oaf's such a lusty pig he's going to see exactly what he wants to see and fall head over heels for me. Believe me, it's happened before." He hurriedly stuffs the bodice of the dress until he has quite the impressive bust, and it's suddenly all you can do not to laugh out loud at the sight of him.

"I'm not sure you can slander other men until you finally start thinking with what's above your own belt," you chide, helping him wrangle his long, sooty-black locks beneath a headscarf. As always, you're momentarily distracted by how soft his hair stays, even though you know he does the bare minimum to care for it.

"I do think pink is definitely your color though, Mads."

"Shut up," he growls half-seriously. "We all do what we have to. A man's gotta eat, you know."

You snort. "Right. Because that's the old Madmartigan I remember. Always strictly practical, and definitely not getting in over his head robbing a rich man when he could find some honest work."

"Where at? A brothel?"

You move to slap his chest, but never make contact. It feels wrong somehow, now that his enormous false bosom is in the way.

Madmartigan sees the discomfort on your face and snickers. "Not to worry, Sweets. Your beautiful wife will return to you in one piece, trust me."

He presses a fond kiss to your cheek and turns around to the cellar door, ready to make a move on his unsuspecting target.

And promptly lets out a muffled yelp as you slap his ass.

"What the hell, Sweets?! What was that for?"

You smirk and make yourself more comfortable atop a large bag of flour, to wait out the results of his loosely formed "plan". Chances are he might have to call for backup if things get sticky.

"We women have to put up with that all the time from you 'lusty pigs'. Thought you should get used to it sooner rather than later."

"Insolent fox," he mutters, and hastily leaves, as if afraid you'll smack him again.

You might have, too.

Man's got a fine ass.

"Hold still, idiot," you scold as he flinches away from the wet cloth in your hand for the seventh time. "Do you want my help with that bloody lip or not?"

"I don't know why you're so angry," he grouses. "You're not the one that got their clothes torn off and beaten up for not actually being a woman."

"Oh, stop whining. You got out of there with the gold you came for and the other guy is worse off than you. And it's my dress that got sacrificed, so I think I've every right to complain." You gesture to the shredded pink material hanging around his waist, now the only thing preserving your disheveled warrior's dignity.

He at least has the grace to look momentarily contrite. "Right. I'll get you a new one."

You're slightly concerned by the fact that he doesn't explicitly use the word "buy", but decide to let it go for now. Many of the gifts he's given you throughout the course of your years-long friendship have shady origins, but it is the thought that counts.

And honestly, you're just glad he's not hanging up in a crow cage left for dead somewhere again.

His sharp eyes soften as he finally lets you finish tending to him. "Why did you really come along with me?" he asks bluntly. "I have nothing with which to bribe you, and you have built yourself a life here. When you made the decision to quit while we were ahead and go straight, I didn't understand, but I think I understand you even less now."

Not wanting to meet that deeply piercing ice-blue gaze, you study his lips instead, transfixed as ever by their perfect, sweeping curves. He can dress in animal skins like a barbarian and be constantly covered in ash and dirt, but the refined features of the noble knight he once was are never hidden completely, try as he might.

"I asked you a question, Sweets."

"Maybe I missed you, you boor." Unsettled, you smack him with the damp cloth and abruptly turn away to stoke the fire.

"Why?" You can't tell if he's genuinely lost or fishing for a particular answer from you. "You have a little bit of land, you're a respected herbalist, and I'm sure you've had more than a few offers of courtship since I saw you last."

Is that jealousy simmering behind his careless words?

You smirk over your shoulder. "Please. Herbalist is just two degrees south of witch around here. Men fear me."

He rises to his feet and comes up behind you, his large hands settling on your upper arms and rubbing gentle lines from your shoulders down to your elbows and back again. "I've missed being ripped to shreds by that razor-sharp tongue."

"Have you." You sigh softly as you lean back against his broad chest; without the barrier of one of his leather-and-fur shirts, all you can smell is him, a warm, welcome scent you hadn't forgotten in all the time since you last parted ways. Your bodies melt into each other with old familiarity, prompting a rush of memories of huddling together for warmth during long winters on the run, posing as husband and wife for hustling heists, his arm wrapped tightly around you on horseback.

All the little things that made you fall in love with him in the first place. The intimately shared moments that had made it so hard to leave him. But you had felt like you needed to protect your heart somehow.

After all, at the time he had seemed far more content to remain unbound to anyone, even you.

"I have another question," he murmurs, his lips now only a hair's breadth from the stretch of exposed skin at your collarbone.

"And that would be...?" You stifle a shiver, his hot breath skimming your neck and sending prickles of anticipation dancing across your body in all directions.

His cheek rests against yours. "That time I tried to kiss you, do you remember that night?"

Your hands tense, unconsciously grasping fistfuls of the torn dress fabric still hanging from his belt; there's a minuscule hitch to his breath at the sudden feeling of your hands at his hips.

"Yes."

"Why did you run away from me?"

The raw uncertainty running beneath that simple question makes you turn to face him again, acutely aware of the feeling of him against you, the hard muscles of his chest pressing into the softness of yours, his hands sliding down to linger in the curve of your back. There is no judgment in his handsome face, only a twinge of long-hidden hurt and real curiosity.

You reach up, tangling your fingers in his thick dark hair, loving the way the glossy strands slide across your skin. It's gotten so long, and your hands itch to weave it into slender braids like you used to.

"I'm pretty sure you were drunk, Mads. And I...I just wasn't fully ready," you admit.

"I still want you," he tells you softly. "I never stopped wanting you, even when you left."

You smile as he bends to rest his forehead against yours. "And I would still kill for you."

"Gods, you know it drives me crazy when you talk like that." He leans in even further, eyes dancing in the glow from the firelight. "How do you feel tonight?"

Your hands trail down again to cradle his face. "I think I'm ready now. I've missed you."

So you kiss him.

You're not surprised he's such a good kisser, but maybe more than a little startled that there's a real gentleness in him, a smooth temperance to his wildly passionate expression of love. And as the sweet reality of having him alive and solid and in your arms once again after so long finally sets in, you realize what you truly want with crystal clarity.

"Take this ridiculous thing off," you breathe as your lips finally part and you tug at his tattered skirt.

"You sure?" It takes him a second to figure out what you're really asking. "Cause I don't have anything else --"

You laugh and silence him with another kiss, guiding his hands to the laces of your corset and watching his expression change from one of surprise to warmth and hunger as he swiftly helps you undress.

#x reader #female reader #willow 1988 #madmartigan x reader #madmartigan #romance #sweet #humor #my fanfiction #willow fanfic #this was in my drafts #scoundrel #idk I think he's hot #sortafluffy #friends to lovers #there needs to be more fic about him <3

[idk3453]

Mafia

Mafia 

Chapter 6: Dirty, Dirty Feeling

Hey Guys, Hope you are enjoying the series so far! Thus promised, here's chapter 6. And get ready, it's a little spicy ;) For this chapter the second half will be of Elvis POV and the first half is yours. 

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

TW: Strong language, Kidnapping, Sexual Moments

Synopsis: Elvis Presley, notorious mafia leader of Memphis, Tennessee has the town on their feet. Fear, power, money and women surround him and his Memphis mafia. But what happens when one day you stumble into his world? And he makes you fall in love with him? 

We using the same image because why not!

Y/N POV

“This is your punishment, are you ready?” he said with a smirk

Fear began to take over my body, trying to move away from the man, the bar and cuff trapping my legs kept expanding and restrained me from doing anything. 

Whimpering, I looked helplessly at the man in front of me. 

“Now, imma need you to hold still for me.”

Closing my eyes I braced myself for what was to come next. I felt an impact on my right leg, warm and wet. 

I slowly opened one eye and saw the man leaving kisses on my legs. 

“Hey Stop that,” I said.

He slowly made his way closer to my inner thighs. Closing my eyes at the delight.

“S.t….oooppp” I moaned. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction that his lips being close to my core made me feel all sorts of turned on. No, I didn't want him to know that I wanted more. 

Looking down, I saw the man looking up at me with those blue orbs of his. Smirking, he continued his attack on my right inner thigh. 

Throwing my head back, the bubble started to form. I kept yanking at my handcuffs begging for a release. 

I felt a bite on my right thigh, causing me to yelp. 

“You look so heavenly like this baby” the man said as he now continued his attack on my left thigh.

“Ohhh myyy godd” I moaned louder. I couldn't help it. His lips on my thighs, his kisses, my core was aching to be touched. 

“Pleass…ee” I whispered. 

Looking up at my reaction, the man took the initiative to go further up. 

“Ahhh” I moaned, arching my back at the impact. 

Just as I was about to release my panties, the man pulled away satisfied at his work that he had done to my legs. 

“Well, that was your punishment,” he said, smirking at how I look. 

I was a disheveled mess, I was breathing heavily, and sweat was forming on my forehead. 

The man removes the cuffs from my legs, I can finally move them but after what occurred, I just let them slide down the bed. Soon, he begins to uncuff my hands. And with a plop they land on the pillow. 

Sighing I look up at the man, soon he sits next to me, and begins to caress my face. I was too shaken to even say or do anything. He plants a kiss on my forehead and says “when your done come down for breakfast baby” 

And with that the man gets up and heads towards the padded doors. 

Witha croak I said “Wait, who are you?” 

The man turns around and flashes a smile and says “baby, Im Elvis, Elvis Presley” and with that Elvis shuts the door and leaves me in a state of confusion and fear once more. 

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

I must have been laying on Elvis' bed for at least 20 min, trying to gather my thoughts and process them. I was in a state of denial. “Elvis, THE Elvis Presley, was my kidnapper.” “the notorious mafia leader” 

I just couldn't process the revelation that occurred. 

Hearing a growl coming from my stomach, I realized that it was time to eat. Groaning, I stood up and made my way towards the padded doors, opening them I saw that the house was massive, 

A giant staircase with such details, a long hallway filled with different rooms. And each wall was adorned with portraits and paintings. Hearing noises coming from downstairs I made my way towards the stairs and noticed a mirror on my right. 

Gasping at the sight of my hair, I combed through it with my fingers. Making sure that my hair looked somewhat pleasant I slowly made my way towards the noise. 

“And then I said, where's my money!” Said one of the men. 

Making my way inside the laughter and the banter came to a halt and I was meant with eyes on me. 

Elvis POV: 

“This is your punishment, are you ready?” I said with a smirk

I noticed Y/N begin to move away from me, failing to realize the more she moves the more the bar expands opening her legs for me. 

I made my way towards her, stationing myself between her legs. 

“Now, imma need you to hold still for me.” I said. 

I saw Y/N closing her eyes, preparing for what her punishment was to come. “Ohh, baby it's not one of those punishments” I said to myself. 

Smirking as I made my way towards her legs, I began to place kisses on her right leg first, making sure to give enough attention to it.  

“Hey Stop that,” she said. 

Ignoring her plea, I slowly made my way towards her inner thigh. Leaving strides and kisses. I continued to kiss and suck on her inner thighs. 

“S.t….oooppp” she continued but much to her dismay it was moaned out. 

Lord just imagining what her moaning my name would sound like once I plunge myself deep into her core. Her moan sent vibrations to my body. Soon Elvis soon, I reminded myself. 

Y/N continued to moan and breath heavily, soon she began to tug on her handcuffs. 

So, I bit her left inner thigh causing her to yelp in pleasure. 

“You look so heavenly like this baby,” I said. Which was true, I wanted to have y/n every waking minute, I want her in every position, to the point where she can't walk because of how good I make her feel.

y/ns moans and pleas filled the room, making me feel hot and bothered. I began inching my way closer to her core. The heat that radiated from it, I'd rather be buried in between her legs, eating and pleasuring my baby. But right now it's  punishment. 

Just as I began to notice, y/n became wetter, her body already losing control. Smirking, I remove myself from this position. 

 “Well, that was your punishment,” I said, seeing how hot and bothered she was. Slowly I made my way towards removing the bar and cuffs on her legs, seeing them slide down the bed and then making my way towards the headboard to remove the handcuffs. 

y/n was breathing sporadically, looking up at the ceiling. 

I placed my hand on her cheek caressing her, she didn't even protest, she was too busy thinking about what had transpired a few minutes ago. Lowering my head I planted a kiss on her forehead. ‘

“when your done come down for breakfast baby” 

And with that I got up and made my way to the padded doors. Not before I heard y/n say, 

 “Wait, who are you?”

I turned around and flashed a smile “Baby, Im Elvis, Elvis Presley” and with that I closed the door to my room and made my way towards the kitchen. 

.

.

.

.

. “Boss” yelled my Mafia.

Chuckling I said, “I know I'm here. Jerry any updates you have for me”

“No, E just that Red finally woke up and we kicked him out like it was planned” 

Said Jerry taking a swig at his coffee. 

“Good, that bastard had it coming after what he did”

I noticed Sonny, from the corner of my eye, not being his usual self, probably because I kicked his cousin out. Serves him right. I value loyalty more than anything and this mafia is about loyalty. You crossed me and you're done! 

Taking a sip of my coffee, I heard Larry, another one of my members talking about what he did to a member who owes us money “And then I said, where's my money!” 

Laughter filled the room and I chuckled knowing how Larry gets when things do go smoothly. Then all of a sudden silence consumed the air. I look up to see my baby finally making her presence known. 

Smirking, I got up from my chair and made my way towards my girl. 

“Gang, I wanna introduce someone to you, meet my girl y/n” I said, grabbing her waist and pulling her towards me.

All eyes were on her. Lamar was the first to break silence and said “EP, if she's your girl then why not plant a kiss on her” 

Giving Lamar a knowing look, I looked down at y/n her y/e/c were widened by the sudden remark. 

“Fine, I'll show you” and with that I spun her around, and planted a deep kiss on her. Hollers and claps erupted in the room. 

Her lips were soft on mine, I wanted more. Breaking the kiss away I slowly opened my eyes and noticed y/n feel her lips. Smirking, I knew she was gonna think of me.and then soon she will begin to love me, just like I love her. 

“Alright, Alright you made your point” Said Lamar, “now E, is she also the girl we heard moaning upstairs because those marks say something”.....

Lamar, Lamar what is gonna happen next! What do yall think? How did we like out spicy time ;) dont worry there will be more SMUT soon

Again thank you to the besties @natipooxx @plasticfantasticl0ver @erutluve Love yall so much!

If both chapters do good both 5-6 chapter 7 drops tonight! if not itll drop tomorrow!

#elvis fic #elvisaaronpresley #elvis fanfic #elvis fans #elvis presley #elvis x you #elvis x y/n #elvis x reader #elvis smut #elvis 2022 #memphis mafia #mafia fic #mafia romance

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Vicarious (Part 10)

Azula frowns at the mirror; she still has his hair lopsided. She has been at this for at least a half an hour and she only has an hour more to get it right. And and hour more to figure out how to groom Sokka’s beard.

Between his horrendous handwriting and his somewhat unclear instructions she might be better off just going to the man himself and let him manage that part. 

She can at least get his hair done nicely. At least that is a display of an attempt. 

She picks up the hair tie and makes another attempt to get it right. It is, by far, better than all of her other attempts but it still isn’t perfect. And maybe for Sokka that is perfect. He doesn’t really seem like the type to care if a few strands of hair come out of the wolf tail. Pushing back all of her screaming instincts she steps away from the mirror. 

She just needs to go down to the living room and converse with Aang or Toph or anyone really. Reading a book would also do; anything that will keep her from dwelling on those misplaced strands of hair. 

She wanders her way down the hall.

“Hey, Sokka!” Toph greets.

“Toph.” 

“All ready for your date tonight?”

“Yes. I think so.”

Toph throws her head back and cackles. “I can tell that you aren’t! Your heart is beating like crazy.” Her expression grows more serious. “You’ll do fine, Sokka. Just make her laugh, you’re good at that.” She pauses. “I guess that Katara could give you better advice than I could. She knows what women like.”

“You don’t?”

“I know what I like!” She declares. “Which, apparently, is a lot different. Unless Jin is also into Earth Rumbles. But she strikes me as the candle lit dinner, walks through a blooming field kind of woman.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Azula replies. She tries to think of the things that she would enjoy on a date. Decidedly, she also falls under the ‘a lot different’ category but in a much different way than Toph does. 

“You’re going to be fine. And if it doesn’t go well then you have us.” Toph smiles. 

“I can date you?”

Toph laughs again, louder this time. “Your humor is impeccable.”

“I like Earth Kingdom women.”

“Okay, maybe don’t say that to her.” Toph snorts. 

Her list of things not to do and say continues to grow, but no one ever seems to have advice on what to do. 

.oOo.

“I heard that she did it because she thinks that some spirit told her that she had to. Like a divine sacrifice that can only be done by someone with royal blood.”

“I heard that it was a dragon, not a spirit.” Mentions a second female voice.

Sokka hears the guards before he sees them. 

“I heard that she sees herself as some type of martyr.” Speaks a third guard. 

“Either way, she’s…she’s out of her mind. If you ask me, they shouldn’t have brought her back to the palace, she’s going to make the entirety of the Fire Nation look foolish.” 

“Quiet down, Admiral Chan, she might…”

“Hear me?” He looks Sokka directly in the eyes. “That girl set fire to my beach house and upset my son. I knew that she was insane before everyone else did. Had to keep my damn mouth shut though or I’d have to deal with she and her father.” 

“Didn’t she sleep with your son?” Asks the female guard. 

Admiral Chan sniffs. “From the sound of it, she wanted to. But my son has better sense than that. He knows a lunatic when he sees one. This one just so happens to wear a crown.”

Sokka feels his chest constricting. He wishes that he had some witty comeback but he doesn’t know what Azula would say, how she would react. He doesn’t even know how he would. He thinks that he might laugh it off, make some ridiculous joke at his own expense just to alleviate the tension. But that isn’t Azula’s style. 

By the time he decides that she would probably attack the holes in the logic of these rumors, the guards have already rounded the corner.

That he hadn’t said a thing in defense makes his face red and his eyes prickle. 

He finds it perplexing that he is affected so much by rumors that aren’t really even about him. Ones that he won’t have to worry about when he gets his own body back.

Somehow it feels like they are talking about him. 

Or maybe it is that he knows exactly why Azula is so inclined to keep to herself. Knowing that he has partaken in sharing the rumors that make him so uncomfortable now. It is so easy to gossip about her; she is a royal, she had a scandal, and, just to add intrigue, she shrouds herself in mystery.

Really it is quite simple; she is sad and she is hurt. She just wants peace. 

He hopes that she can at least have that while masquerading as him.  

Currently, he can’t cling to that hope. Not when she is approaching him with a razor and a demand; “help me fix your beard so that it doesn’t look stupid while I’m on your date.” 

She is just as stressed as ever. 

Perhaps more so. 

.oOo.

Jin is a pretty girl. 

In some ways she reminds Azula of TyLee. They are both bright eyed and happy-go-lucky. Maybe Jin isn’t quite as perky but she is certainly cheerful. 

Perhaps that is why Azula’s stomach is doing all kinds of flops and flutters. Why she is having trouble getting words out. She is out of her comfort zone on many different levels. She should have taken the woman to a play or a music event, anything but a dinner. If Sokka hadn’t already reserved a seat at the Crimson Imperial Candle, she very much would have picked a different date activity. 

Instead she is forced to endure the awkward and tense ambiance that overlays the elegant and romantic atmosphere that the eatery tries to coax. The fountains that cut all across the floor, dividing each table into a small and individual island are lit by dozens of candles hanging from the ceiling and floating in the water. Twinkling reflections and artfully positioned tiling make the water look like a sea of rippling gold. 

There is an option to eat while sitting on rugs and carefully arranged pillows but Sokka has chosen to reserve a table instead. Not that, that isn’t nice enough. The table is sprinkled with firelily petals and–likely per Sokka’s request–moonlily petals. 

There are other touches of Water Tribe influence in this arrangement such as a scatter of little wooden beads and paintings of wintery landscapes. Azula notes that he hadn’t requested any Earth Kingdom touches. 

From the look on her face, Azula is inclined to believe that Jin has pieced that much together as well. 

“Do you know what you’d like to eat?”

Jin speaks first, “why don’t you ask Sokka, since he wants to call all of the shots.” 

Azula grits her teeth. She is going to kill the man for putting her in this position. That dolt. That careless oaf! At least she can rest assured that she isn’t the only insensitive person around the palace. “I was actually going to let you pick the food tonight since I chose the decor.” 

“How thoughtful.” Although she smiles, there is anger twinkling in her eyes. “Sokka know how much I hate interior design and lo-ove the culinary arts.”

She makes a mental note that Jin wants to be an interior designer and cannot cook. If she had to guess, she would say that Jin is also a very picky eater. 

“Go on, Sokka, you know what I like to eat.”

Azula hadn’t seen a smile as forced as the one that the waiter makes since meeting Joo Dee. She clears her throat. “We’ll have the…” she tries to recall what dishes she had enjoyed while staying in the Earth Kingdom. She can really only recall one thing, “seared wild Kyoshi elephant koi.”

Jin rolls her eyes. As soon as the waiter is out of earshot she scoffs, “really, you think that some fancy gourmet meal is going to win me over? Do you even remember what my favorite food is? I remember yours; blubbered seal jerky. Your favorite color is indigo, your birthday is February 20th, you are really annoyed by singing nomads and singing gophers, you had a run in with a baby sabertooth mooselion, and you still sleep with this ratty old stuffed seal.”

Helpful information. But delivered most hostilely. 

“Do you even know a single thing about me?”

“I’d like to, why don’t you tell me about…”

“Because I. Have.”

“I’ll listen this time. I promise. Ask me to recount what you told me tomorrow and you’ll see.” 

Jin rises abruptly. “It’s a good thing that you have a big appetite, Sokka. Enjoy your elephant koi.”

Usually Azula can piece together exactly what she had said that had made a person turn away from her. This time…

This time she can’t understand it at all.

The woman didn’t even give her a chance to try.

Understanding dawns.

Jin didn’t give her a chance to try, but she had probably given Sokka many.

Even still, she can’t stop the tightening of her throat and the turning of her tummy. Now Sokka is going to destroy whatever she has left in life. He is going to ruin it much further beyond repair that it already had been. 

Perhaps she should try to win the woman back. If she can, he wouldn’t need to know. But no, there had been a finality in this breakup. She has a strong feeling that it isn’t the first break up. But it is the last. 

.oOo.

Sokka can’t say that he is surprised to see Azula home wearing a look of utter dismay. The way that she bites the inside of her cheek, the downcast of her eyes…

“It didn’t go well, did it?”

“She broke up with me…you. She broke up with you.”

Sokka sighs. “Yeah, I had a feeling that she would.”

“Because you think that I’m trying to ruin your life?”

“Because of me.” He mumbles. “I kind of gave you a task that I knew was doomed…”

“Then why? Why send me on that date at all?” She slaps her hands against her thighs.

He shrugs. “You’re smart and good with words, I thought that you might be able to do or say something that I wouldn’t have thought of.” 

“What would make you think that? All of the friends that I don’t have. All of the relationships that I managed to ruin? You picked the wrong person to fix your relationship troubles, Sokka.”

He flinches. He itches to say something, but once again he isn’t sure what to say. He isn’t certain because most all of him is inclined to agree with her; how could he expect her to fix a failing relationship when all of hers have crumbled, when she hasn’t exactly had success in forming new ones. “You’re not the wrong person. I know that you can make a few friends if…” 

“Don’t lie to me, Sokka.” She folds her arms across her chest. 

“I’m not lying. I think that you can make lots of friends. All you need to do is…”

“Change everything that I am to make people like yourself more comfortable around me?” She quirks a brow. 

“I didn’t…I wasn’t going to say that. You don’t make me uncomfortable.”

Azula rolls her eyes. “Please, Sokka. I know my own face and I know what it does when I am uncomfortable.” She takes a step closer and he takes a step back. And she laughs. “See! That’s all it takes. All I have to do is step towards you and you act like I’m going to set you on fire–set myself on fire to do it.”

Sokka swallows. “I–” He rakes his hand through his hairline. “You’re an intimidating person, okay. You just are.” He cringes at his own blunder. “And I know that you can…turn it off. I’ve had a few conversations with you that didn’t make me nervous.”

“Yes well, I’m not going to change my whole demeanor for  other people. Especially ones who won’t stick around when things get grim.” She turns her back on him. 

He groans. Why is she so hard to talk to? Why is he so bad at talking? Maybe if this body came with even a scrap of Azula’s eloquence maybe wouldn’t make a mess of every other conversation they have. Maybe if he had his own eloquence, that date wouldn’t have gone so poorly for Azula. 

“It wasn’t your fault.” He tries. 

She pauses and looks disinterestedly back at him. 

“I didn’t really know Jin.” He admits. And, Spirits, it hurts to say out loud. “I didn’t really try to get to know her.” 

Azula’s brows furrow. 

“She was like…I just kept picturing Suki and thinking about Suki. They are kind of similar.” 

“Pathetic, Sokka.” Azula scoffs. And with that she is gone, her footsteps echo from down the hall.

#avatar the last airbender #azula #sokka #sokkla #fanfiction