#okay maybe not ‘completely straight’ but you catch my drift

[talkdutchtome]

"Let me take care of you" - Max Verstappen

pairing . . . max verstappen x reader )

genre . . . smut )

summary . . . after a disastrous race, you take care of max the best way you know how )

warning . . . smut, 18+ MINORS DNI, oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, nipple play, use of petnames, sub!max, very soft dom!reader, traumatized maxie, not proofread )

word count . . . 2800 words )

a/n . . . this actually ended up a lot more emotional than i intended it to be but i hope everyone likes it anyway. i don't know if my smut writing is getting better or worse tbh. any and all feedback is always appricated <3 )

Max was a perfectionist; anyone could see that. He also had a desire to win like nobody else. He never let up. It didn’t matter to him if it was a title deciding race or a completely meaningless one, he needed to win. It had been instilled in him for as long as he could remember; second place is first loser after all. So naturally, when his brakes failed, and his car very literally caught fire in the Australian Grand Prix causing him to have to retire three laps into the race; you knew he was not going to take it well.  

You were watching along in the garage, and the only thing you could think about as his smoking car pulled up to the pits was how hard on himself he was going to be. The fact that it was through no fault of his own was irrelevant. He had just handed a win to Ferrari, and that made his blood boil.  

In typical Max fashion, you barely saw him after he retired too. He gave you a quick hug as he reached the garage but after that it was straight back to business. He made his way to the pit wall and immediately began discussing with Christian and GP what exactly happened and how do they fix it for Japan. He sent you a text that he was going to stay late at the track with the mechanics so that you should just head back to the hotel.  

Truthfully, Max was avoiding you. You had only been dating Max for a couple of months, and so far you had only seen him dominate on track. And whilst you were concerned that that he would be beating himself up for disappointing himself or the team, he was busy focusing on how he had disappointed you. You had taken time out of your busy university schedule to travel to the other side of the world to see him race, and he had to retire three laps in. He was used to people living through him, taking his wins as theirs. He had never considered that all you cared about that he was safe and didn’t get hurt.  

So, you went to the hotel and waited for him; or at least you tried to. Tiredness and jet lag eventually started to catch up to you, and you had just started to drift off to sleep when you heard the door open. Looking up greet Max, you could see immediately how heavy the weight he bore on his shoulders hung.  

“Hey baby, how are you feeling?” You asked him sleep in your voice still evident. Max just hung his head and walked into the bathroom. He half expected you to berate him. To question him on exactly what went wrong and what he’s going to do to fix it.  

“Maxie?” You asked again, as he came in from the bathroom and made his way to his side of the bed, his eyes routed to the floor. This time he just grunted at you in response before getting into bed and turning away from you. He did not have the energy to be told everything he did wrong and why - he had already had that from his dad.  

“Please talk to me Maxie, I’m worried.” You pleaded at him, fighting the urge to wrap your arms around him. You wanted that more than anything, but you sensed that he maybe didn’t feel the same.  

“What do you want Y/N?” He finally spoke, his voice cracking.  

“Are you okay? I know that was tough result to take but it’s only once race. We both know you’ll be back better than ever for the next one.”  

To your words, Max just grunted again. And this time you couldn’t help but reach over to hold him. Wrapping one of your arms around his waist and the other coming up to brush through his hair. You waited cautiously for him to pull away. A moment passed and he began to move, your heart sank; he clearly didn’t want to be anywhere near you right now. But instead of moving away, he just turned around, bringing himself closer to you, resting his head on your chest.  

“I just hate to let the team down” he spoke, his voice no more than a whisper, like he wasn’t 100% convinced if he should be saying anything.  

“But baby you didn’t let them down, you did nothing wrong. There was an issue with the car that isn’t your fault.” You gazed down at his face, your hands smoothing through his hair.  

“I could have done something. Maybe I pushed the brakes too much. Maybe I went too hard. All I know is that I let the team down. I let my dad down. I let you down. You cam-“ He started to ramble, but you had heard enough.   

“Whoa Max baby slow down. I can’t speak for the team or your dad, but you certainly did not let me down. All that matters to me is that you didn’t get hurt. I was so worried; you were literally driving a car that was on fire. You could have been hurt.”  

As the words left your mouth, he looked up at you. Almost as if he was trying to see if you were telling the truth. When his eyes met yours and he realized you were being sincere, he hugged tighter into you.  

“I love you Y/N” he spoke and before you could say anything, you felt him bring his mouth to your neck. Leaving hot open-mouthed kisses from your collarbone up to until he met your mouth. His lips crashed against yours. The kiss was hungry and desperate. His hands found your hair and his teeth nipped at your lips. He quickly found himself getting lost in you and you weren’t too far behind. But when his hands wandered towards the bottom of your pajama top, you had to pull away.  

“Wait, Maxie. Are you sure you want to do this? You’ve had a rough day, are you sure you want to do this. We could just go to sleep if you’d prefer.” You didn’t want him to feel like this was something he needed to do.  

But when his lips once again found your neck, it was clear you had your answer. “Please” he mumbled against your skin “I just want to forget” between each word he left a kiss on your neck, before beginning to nibble against that one spot on your neck that he knew always sent you completely insane. He left deep purple marks all down your neck and you couldn’t help but let a moan slip through your lips.  

You were about to completely cave into his touch before you had an idea, and before you could overthink whether it was a good idea, you swung your legs over him until you had him pinned underneath you, your legs either side of his. A smirk plastered across your face 

Max looked completely taken aback at your action, but the second you leant down to kiss him, your lips just slightly brushing against his; he was starstruck and could feel himself growing harder by the second, which only deepened your smirk.  

“Let me take care of you baby” you whispered in his ear before beginning to grind your core against him. The whimper that left Max’s lips took you both by surprise but, taking that as confirmation that he wanted you to take control; you attached your lips to his neck, trailing kisses down his chest until you reached the waistband of his underwear. It was clear from the way that his hard dick strained against the cloth that Max was enjoying this new side of you, and you could be lying if you said it didn’t give you a bit of a confidence boost. 

You started to tease him, placing warm kisses over his underwear, but when you hear him try and fail to beg you to touch him, it becomes clear that maybe today isn’t the day to tease him. So, you hook your fingers around his waistband and release him from the tight confines of the cloth. Immediately, your mouth found his cock, your lips wrapping around his tip. Max’s moans filled the air as he came apart like putty in your hands. The way that your tongue swirled around him made him go crazy. He reached out his hands to grab your hair in a makeshift pony, but you dodged him. Max honestly thought he was going to cry when you took your mouth off him. 

“No baby, I told you I was going to take care of you, you just sit back and let me do everything” you told him before quickly placing a kiss on his lips before reattaching your mouth to Max’s throbbing dick and bringing your hand to the part of it that you couldn’t fit in your mouth. Max felt lightheaded; it’s not like you hadn’t given him a blowjob before, but never like this. He couldn’t ever remember being this turned on before. He had never even considered letting you take control, letting you take care of him so intently before; but now that he was experiencing it – he kicked himself for waiting so long. 

The sounds coming from your boyfriend were music to your ears and only encouraged you to make him feel better and better. You could feel yourself getting wetter, completely desperate to feel him inside of you; but today was about Max, you’d happily wait longer for your own pleasure to take care of him. You began taking him deeper and deeper into your throat, earning more moans from Max. You had never heard him be so vocal before. Things got even better for him when you hallowed your cheeks and brought your hand up to his balls, massaging them in your hands as you worked his dick in your mouth.   When his tip hit the very back of your throat and you gagged around him, he was so loud you were just slightly concerned that whoever was in the room next door would be up for a rude awakening.  

“Oh, fuck baby, oh my god. I’m so close” Max just about managed to get out between moans, promoting you to once again let go of his dick. For a second Max looked at you with puppy dog eyes, silently begging you to take him back in your mouth. But as soon as you stood up and very slowly pulled your pajama shorts down, he realized that there were better things to come.  

“Do you want me to ride you, Maxie?” you asked him breathlessly earning another groan from the man lying on the bed. 

“Fuck, yes. Please please ride me I need to be inside of you more than anything” Max’s voice was weak; it was becoming all too much for him. And when you finally rid yourself of your pajama top, Max started to see stars. Your tits were his weakness, and you knew that all too well. All he wanted was to take them in his mouth, to suck and bite on your nipples. So, when you straddled him once again, that's exactly what he did. You thought about stopping him again, reminding him that tonight was about him and his pleasure; but when you caught sight of his eyes – usually so bright and sparkling. Now they were so dark, so filled with lust and desperation, you didn’t have the heart to deprive him of one of his favorite things to do.  

You leant down to kiss him again, and the taste of his own precum on your tongue made him groan feverishly against your lips. Unable to wait anymore, you finally lowered yourself onto his dick. Now it was your turn to let out a string of moans and profanity. The way that he stretched you out was a feeling that you could never grow old of. After a beat to get used to having him inside of you, you began to bounce on top of him, pumping his dick in and out of your tight desperate pussy.  

“Oh my god Maxie you feel so good, your huge dick sends me so crazy” You moan out, completely cock drunk. “You fuck me so good, god nobody makes me feel like you can” Your praise made Max moan louder than ever and then he simply couldn’t help himself anymore; he brought his hands up to your hips and began thrusting hard into you. You wanted to tell him to stop, to tell him to let you take care of him – but when he rammed his cock into g-spot you physically couldn’t ask him to stop doing something that felt so good.  

“I love you so much Y/N baby” Max croaked out, bringing his mouth back to your tits and his hand down to your clit. Him touching you for the first time tonight meant it was now time for you to see stars. His expert hands rubbing against your clit brought you closer and closer to release and you could tell from the way that Max’s thrusts became deeper and harder that he wasn’t far behind you. 

Wanting to finish what you had started; you placed your hands on his chest – signaling him to stop for a second. Max did so very reluctantly, but when you started to bounce on his dick again his eyes rolled back into his head. After each bounce you grinded yourself down on him, desperate to get him as deep as you possibly could. Your climax was getting closer and closer and soon you felt like you were ready to burst. 

“I’m going to cum on your dick okay baby? You just make me feel so good I can’t help myself.” you told the man beneath you breathlessly, prompting Max to resume rubbing circles into your clit. 

“Please do. Please cum all over my cock I need that so much” Max croaked out and with that you fell over the edge. A wave of pleasure washed over you and you screamed out for Max. It felt so good you thought you were going to pass out, completely taken over by the pleasure that Max’s hard dick had given you. For a few moments, you simply had to still yourself to let yourself recover. 

Once you had ridden out the last of your orgasm, you were ready to go again; ready to make Max feel as good as you possibly could. You began grinding down onto him, squeezing yourself against him. After feeling you cumming all over him, Max knew he wouldn’t need long before he was right behind you.  

“Fuck Y/N I’m really close, get off and I’ll finish in your mouth” Max just about got out between moans. When you didn’t get off and instead began bouncing faster and harder, Max really thought he might just die.  

“Cum inside of me Maxie please, I need your cum fucked so deep inside me”  

“Fuck really?” 

“Yeah, i need it so bad.” 

“Oh my god Y/N, you’ll be the fucking death of me” 

The second those words left his mouth, he fell apart. A string of profanity left his lips, and you could feel his dick pulse inside of you as he painted the insides of you white with his cum. Max couldn’t believe how good it felt, sex with you was always great but that was on another level, he couldn’t remember ever feeling that good before. 

“I love you so much Y/N” 

He gently slipped himself out of you and you collapsed next to him on the bed. Exhausted wasn’t the word for how tired you felt after that. And apparently that was true for Max as well as in the time that it took you to waddle to the toilet to clean yourself up, he had managed to fall asleep. You couldn’t blame him of course; even before that it had been a very long tiering day for him. So, as quietly as you could, you got ready for bed and slipped yourself into bed next to him.  

Looking at the very peaceful sleeping man next to you, you couldn’t help but snuggle down close to him. Placing a kiss on his temple before assuming the big spoon position that you know he loves so much from you. Your movement causing him to ever so slightly stir awake. 

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me” he spoke so softly you almost missed it before falling right back into a very peaceful sleep. You couldn’t help but feel so lucky to have a man like him cuddled close to you. 

“Sleep well Maxie, I love you more than anything.” 

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #formula 1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen x y/n #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x you #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #max verstappen smut #max verstappen x oc #f1 smut #formula one smut #formula 1 smut

[wormdebut]

for the steddie spotify wrapped if you haven't gone over the cap yet because this is such a cool idea 🖤

my lucky number 74 and whatever rating your lil heart desires (but we all know i'm okay with explicit)

Hoooboy. Thank you for the request. #74 on my Spotify Wrapped is Watch The World Burn by Falling In Reverse. The second I pulled this up, I knew what it needed to be. SO This blurb is rated E. There is blood, there is wings, there is just a whole lot going on. There is the promise of monster fucking. This is...enjoy this.

Minors? See ya. Everyone else? Enjoy.

——

I can't control the monster any longer that's inside.

----

"Steve, No." Eddie growls. He growls--and that--well it shouldn't go straight to Steve's dick, but it does.

"Eds." Steve sighs. "You've literally been drinking from my wrist since March. What difference does it make?"

Eddie's voice is low, dangerous, when he answers. "The difference, Steve, is that your wrist is safe. I don't know what'll happen if I--if you let me--" He stutters, which, is interesting because this 'version' of Eddie is always so sure. Calmer then he was--before--

Steve would argue that Eddie hasn't changed much, you know…aside from the blood drinking and the retractable fangs and the sometimes-wings. Oh--and the occasional flashes of red eyes and maybe his eyes drifted too low one time and if Eddie's packing what Steve thinks he's packing well--Alright, okay. So maybe he's changed a little.

And well, maybe Steve's a little obsessed with him. But that--that shit was happening before all of Eddie's vampire shit so that's not really new information to Steve.

This isn't exactly a conversation Steve wanted to have in his fucking kitchen, but here they were. "I want to, Eddie. I don't think you're getting enough and I don't--I just want to help, Eds. It just my fucking neck. It's not like a million girls haven't--"

Steve's (very funny, thank you) joke is cut short by Eddie growling again. A deep low rumble and god fucking dammit he has got to stop doing that tonight.

"Don't." Eddie snaps, he's eyes catching Steve's just as they flash red.

Well, mark Steve down as scared and horny. "Sorry." He breathes.

"Steve--I can hardly keep it together as is. If you let me do this I can't promise that I won't completely lose it." Eddie says, voice pitched low.

"I want you to" Steve says, it's a whisper, but he thinks he gets what Eddie is trying to say and--

"Yeah Stevie I get it. I can bite your neck. I know you want me too, but that's not what I mean I--"

Steve cuts him off. "I know what you mean, Eddie, and I want you to."

Eddie blinks. His eyes a mix of red and deep brown. It's hypnotizing. "You--I--what?"

"I want you, Eddie." Steve says, looking him dead in the eyes. He means it. He needs Eddie to know that he does. "You, all of you. All of this. You don't scare me."

Eddie cocks his head. "I don't--I don't know if I'll be able to control it Steve. I want you so fucking bad."

When Steve responds, it's a quiet thing. "Then have me, have all of me. You won't hurt me, Eddie."

It's all kind of a blur after that.

Eddie and Steve lean forward at the same time and then they're kissing. They're kissing and Steve swears to god he can feel his heart beating the blood through his veins. He's afraid it might beat out of his damn chest. Eddie pulls his lip between his teeth--fangs absent--and Steve mourns it.

"Fuck, Stevie. The things I wanna do to you." Eddie purrs, and Steve--well Steve would never admit to the sound he makes, so don't ask.

Steve pulls back and Eddie just places kisses anywhere he can reach, his cheeks, his jaw, peppering kisses along his throat. "Fuck." Steve whines. "Do it, Eddie. Do whatever you want. Kiss me, bite me, fuck me. I--I'm yours, Eds I'm all you."

There's that damn growl, as Eddie noses against Steve's jugular. "Dammit, Stevie." Eddie pulls back, his lips are spit slicked and his eyes are bright red. "Upstairs. Now."

Steve wouldn't admit that he sprinted, per say, but he finds himself in his room pretty damn fast.

Eddie follows quickly and pushes Steve onto the bed. God, Eddie's so fucking pretty. His eyes are still glowing red and somewhere between the time, it took them to get to Steve's room, the fangs have made their appearance.

Steve wants them in his fucking neck. He wants them anywhere Eddie's is willing to bite. He can't help himself, he pulls Eddie down into a kiss. It's brutal, messy. One of Eddie's pointed canines catches on his lip. Draws blood. Eddie laps at it, his tongue licking over Steve's swollen lips and--god, Steve's is going to cream his fucking jeans.

He moans and Eddie laughs. It's that dark tone again.

"Baby." Eddie purrs into his mouth as Steve crashes their lips together again. He only pulls back, head hitting his pillow, when Eddie groans as his wings unfurl.

"Fuck Eddie," Steve breathes, enamored. He reaches up to run a finger along a leathery wing. They look like bat wings, but they're fucking massive. He's lost in running his fingers along one, and Eddie shivers.

"Steve." Eddie's voice is deep, it's low and it's clear and Steve can't fucking breathe.

"Bite me." Steve is breathless, for no reason, other than the beautiful man above him. "Please, Eddie, please." He pleads, begs. He needs this as bad as Eddie does.

Eddie pushes their hips together and Steve can feel their dicks grinding against each other. He gasps as Eddie noses along his jaw.

"I'll bite you baby. I'll make you feel so good--" Eddie's words are saccharine, dripping with a sweetness that is disguising a deep, visceral need. Steve is positive their are pleas falling from his lips. "--but you'll be mine, Stevie."

Mine mine mine.

The words run rampant in Steve's mind. "I'm yours--I'm yours, Eddie. Bite me." His eyes snap up to meet Eddie's pure red. Gorgeous.

Eddie leans forward, eyes sparkling, He nips at Steve's ear, groaning out a 'mine', before licking a stripe over Steve's neck.

Eddie bites and Steve sees fucking fireworks.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #steddie blurb #steddie fic #kas eddie #kas eddie munson #I am...WOOF #worm brain #Worm Spotify Series #starrystevie #monsterfucker steve harrington

[jcbbby]

oooooh buddy. yikes yikes yikes. okay, this is my first just straight up smut fic. this is NOT my usual thing at all, so like…this may be absolute garbage??? I’m sorry in advance lmaoooo. this is also like, SO LONG I feel like, because I just literally don’t know how to get the fuck to the point and I just keep writing? lol side note, this is for those who have ever needed to get railed in a sun dress. ;)

If you’re not comfortable with this type of fic, please don’t read! I still love you either way! <3

Warnings: 18+ only MINORS LOOK AWAY, rpf but in an alternate universe, age gap (reader is like 19, Jamie is 34), p in v sex, unprotected sex (do not try at home, kids), oral (female receiving), obvious major power dynamic issue lol, kinda a slow burn? Idk what I’m doing

*************************************************************

It was a warm and humid late May Friday afternoon. You walked through the courtyard, tossing your hair up into a loose bun to get it off your neck in this heat. You dressed for the temperature, wearing a short yellow sun dress with spaghetti straps, complete with strappy sandals showing off your pedicured toes. You were ready for your week-long stay in the Florida Keys, a cliché but nevertheless exciting college summer vacation. Your first year of college was ending, and the only thing that stood in your way of you and your friends’ trip was your final exam for Professor Bower’s class.

Truth be told, you were a little disappointed to be finishing his class, even though it was just a standard required English literature course. You often found yourself absentmindedly staring up at him as he sat on the edge of his desk, a pen tucked with soft blonde locks behind his ear, leading a group discussion on the assigned reading. His high cheek bones, chiseled jaw, pale blue eyes, the wrinkles that would form in the corner of his eyes as he smiled at wonderfully thought-out opinions and analyses from the students, his charming British accent.

There was that one time he leaned in close at your desk to look over your work, feeling the warmth of his body radiate against you, his cologne lingering for a few moments after walking away. How he said your name when calling on you to answer a question. How you would drift off into a daydream wondering how your name would sound leaving his lips in a much more intimate setting… You spent the whole semester in his class feeling a yearning deep in your core. You were going to milk today’s time in his classroom as long as you could. Perhaps you had also worn the outfit you had chosen for more than just the heat wave, hoping to catch his attention just once before parting ways.

The campus was quieter than usual, with many students having already finished their exams and left for the summer. You had some time before your exam and decided to stop by the café on campus for a coffee and last minute study session. After being handed your drink, you went to take a seat on one of the couches and took out your notebook, scanning over the pages of notes.

“Ah, a little cramming session?” A familiar voice said in front of you.

You looked up from being buried in the pages to see him, Professor Bower. He was dressed much more casual than usual. In a pair of black jeans with a white t-shirt and a black blazer over it.

You smiled. “Oh…well, you know. Couldn’t hurt, right?” He looked incredible; you loved this more laid back look on him. Not that he didn’t look great in a tie as well. “You look like you’re ready for summer vacation.”

He looked down at his outfit and back up to you with a chuckle. “Yeah, I figured I’d tone it down for this last day, maybe help everyone relax for the exam… you look like you’re in summer vacation mode as well. You look…very nice.” He looked you up and down, lingering a little longer than you expected somewhere below your eyeline.

You blushed and felt butterflies in your abdomen. “Oh um…thank you. I-I’m heading south after this.” You cursed yourself in your head for saying it like an innuendo.

“You don’t say, how fun.” He grinned. “Well, I better go get everything printed. I’ll see you in class. Good luck on the exam, Y/N.”

You nodded with a meek smile as he turned and headed off in the other direction. All you could think about were his eyes on you, how you would have loved to see what his hands would have done, and how tightly your thighs were squeezing together.

****

The classroom was dead silent during the exam, except for the scribbling of pens and pencils across pages. Jamie was sitting at his desk at the front of the room, glancing over his macbook every so often at the room. You found it hard to focus after your encounter earlier, looking up frequently to gaze at him. On a few occasions, he caught you, your eyes meeting for a brief second before you frantically and embarrassingly looked back down at the exam. He would smirk to himself as you felt your cheeks grow hot. You’re blowing it, you thought to yourself.

One by one, each of your classmates brought their finished exams up to the front, with Jamie quietly telling each of them to have a good summer.

“30 minutes left, guys.” He announced to the few of you remaining.

He looked directly at you, holding your gaze for what felt like an eternity before going back to his work on his laptop. You looked back down at your exam, now furiously writing, worried that you wouldn’t finish because of your distracted mind. Not only were you embarrassing yourself in front of the hot professor, but you would also fail his class. Before you knew it, it was just you and Jamie left in the classroom. You glanced to the clock, swallowing hard.

“Time’s up, love.” He said from his desk.

You sighed, gathering your belongings and making your way to the front. You handed your packet to him. “I uh…I didn’t finish. I’m sorry…”

Jamie tutted as he reached for the papers. “Even with that last minute study session?”

“I guess I was…a little distracted…” You shifted on your feet.

“Distracted?” Jamie leaned back in his chair. “Anything you’d want to talk about?” The look in his eyes felt ravenous, like they were reeling you in as prey.

“I don’t know…” You started as he stood up and began walking around to the front of the desk. You felt your breathing get heavier and a sudden wave of confidence washed over you. “I-I uh…kept thinking about how good you look in that blazer…”

Jamie let out a soft chuckle as he came to sit on the front of his desk like usual. “Is that so?”

You turned slightly to face him. “And…how good you’ve looked all semester...how I’ve been hoping you’d notice me…” Your entire body was electrified, being this close to him, desperately wanting his hands on you.

Jamie smirked, taking your arm and guiding you in between his slightly spread legs. Your breath hitched. His hands rested at your hips, sending aching pulses straight to your pussy.

“Darling, I’ve noticed. You always wearing those short skirts, twirling your pen in your mouth in class, not even knowing you’re driving me wild…but we both know I can’t get involved like that with a student…as much as I want to…” His voice was low, you felt his hands start to caress your hips and move towards your ass.

“But I’m technically not your student anymore…the exam is over, I’m done with your class.” You put your hands on his chest, leaning into him, feeling his chest rise and fall with more force. You craned your neck up at him.

He snorted a laugh. “You know I meant as a university student here in general…fuck, you look so good in this dress though.” His hand now resides firmly on your ass.

You began tracing circles with your finger on his chest, looking up at him with your best doe eyes. “I won’t tell if you don’t tell…” You whispered, pressing yourself into him, feeling him harden beneath you.

Jamie groaned quietly with a slight chuckle. “Oh, you’re gonna be the death of me....fuck it.”

He hungrily pressed his lips into yours, both of you immediately softly moaning into the other’s mouth, overwhelmed with want. You move your hands from his chest, wrapping them around his neck. His tongue greedily asked for entrance at your lips, which you wasted no time allowing it in, twirling yours with his. A semester’s worth of desire was erupting inside you, finally coming to fruition.

As you both clumsily tried to get more of each other’s mouths, Jamie’s hands planted firmly on the underside of your thighs, lifting you up against him. Your legs instantly wrapped around his waist as he spun around, sitting you down on his desk, never once breaking contact. He slid the blazer off over his shoulders, tossing it on to his chair behind the desk. You didn’t know he had tattoos. He had always worn blazers or long sleeve button ups. It was a welcomed surprise, you always had a weak spot for tattoos.

You pulled back from him, allowing you both to catch your breath. “You wanna fuck me right here on your desk?” You asked playfully.

“I’ve wanted to fuck you on this desk from day one.” He smirked, placing another kiss on your cheek before turning away.

He slipped over to the door, twisting the lock with a click. You were already so wet with anticipation, but you were still relatively new to sex, and suddenly felt a pang of apprehension creep in. You weren’t a virgin, but you weren’t exactly experienced. Aside from a less than notable prom night at a motel, you hadn’t seen much action. But this was a man, a probably very experienced man, and you were worried about impressing him.

Turning back from the door, he paused just for a moment, taking note of your changed body language. “Hey, you okay? You know, we can stop here if you want.” He walked back to you, standing between your legs, placing a hand on your outer thigh.

“No, no I’m fine. I want this. I want you…I just…I’ve only had sex once.” You looked away, embarrassed.

Jamie chuckled. “Oh, darling…” He cooed as he brought his hand to your cheek. “You can trust me. I can go as easy as you want.” His gentle care turned you on even more.

You brought your hand to his on your cheek and pulled it down, pressing it to your aching heat between your thighs, looking up at him with glassy eyes. “What if…I don’t want you to go easy.” You whispered. “How about you teach me something new, professor…”

His eyes went from where you placed his hand, and back up to your eyes. “Shit…you’re so wet.” He breathed; you felt his fingers lightly moving against your clothed cunt. “You sure you want this?”

“Mhm...god, I want you.” You nodded, staring at his lips, hoping his fingers would find their way under the barrier separating them from where you needed them.

Jamie crashed his lips into yours, as you clamored your hands over his shoulders and arms, hoping to pull him closer. His hand remained between your legs, teasing you with pressure that just wasn’t enough. You brought one hand down to his emerging bulge, caressing him through his jeans. A soft moan came from his throat as he rocked his hips slightly, before pulling away from you and taking your hand off of him. You looked confused.

“No, no. Your hands stay above both our waists, got it? Now, lie back.” He smirked.

You did as he said, slowly lowering yourself back on to the desk, keeping eye contact with Jamie. He remained between your legs, a hand on either thigh. He slowly pushed his hands up toward your hips, bringing the bottom hem of your dress up with them, exposing your light blue panties that were splotched with your excitement. He smiled to himself seeing how turned on you were for him. He glanced up at you, just scanning one more time for any sense of hesitation, before hooking his fingers around the band of them, and sliding them down your legs.

He tucked them into his back pocket, bending over you, meeting your lips again. He nipped at your bottom lip, as he reached back down, tracing a finger lightly over your slit. Your hips bucked upward, begging for more stimulation. Jamie smirked against your lips as he took his finger to your clit and began tracing tight circles. He moved his lips from yours down to your neck, biting and suckling, no doubt leaving marks that would take a few days to fade. You squirmed under his touch, aching for even more.

“Professor Bower…” you moaned.

“Call me Jamie, love.” He said against your neck.

“Jaaamiee…” You moaned again.

“Fuck, I love the sound of that.” He groaned, removing his finger from your bundle of nerves, a whimper leaving your mouth at the loss of contact.

He pushed you slightly backward, giving him the right angle now to place a delicate kiss on your thigh. He smirked up at you briefly before then moving planting his mouth on to your eager cunt. His tongue worked euphoric circles on your clit, not wasting any time also plunging a finger inside you. You gasped, grinding your hips down into his face, tensing yourself, your hands automatically tangling themselves up in his hair. Suddenly, he stopped.

“Hey. What did I say? Hands above the waist, or I won’t touch you anymore.” He said sharply.

“But…it feels so good…I can’t.” You say, catching your breath.

“Well then I guess we’re done here.” He started to stand up.

“No! Please…please keep touching me. I’ll be good.” You bit your lip.

Jamie smiled devilishly as he sank back down to his position. “That’s my good girl.”

He returned to working on you with his tongue, pumping in and out with his finger. You tried to stifle your increasing moans, not wanting to draw attention to yourselves. Jamie moaned into your pulsating heat, causing vibration, and sending shockwaves through your core. You gripped the edges of the desk, trying to follow Jamie’s rule, writhing under him. You bucked your hips up as he slipped in a second finger, pumping rhythmically as he swirled his tongue.

“Shit…shit I-..” You breathed.

“You’re doing so well, baby. That’s it. I’ve got you.” Jamie pressed a hand to your lower abdomen, increasing the growing pressure in your belly.

Without thinking, you grabbed his hand, gripping it tightly as you squirmed, feeling your release building. He smiled against you at this innocent and intimate gesture, intertwining his fingers with yours, still suckling your sensitive bud. He curled his fingers upward inside you in a beckoning motion.

“Jamie, fuck, I-…I’m gonna…”

"Yes, love. Go on, cum for me. Cum just for me." Jamie kissed and nibbled on your inner thigh.

You felt your orgasm crash over you. Your legs quivered as your head fell back in ecstasy. He caressed your hand in his with his thumb as he kept rubbing your clit with his other, helping you ride out your high. He came back up to your lips as you came down in a haze, tasting yourself as he kissed you.

“You still with me, love?” He asked chuckling, pulling you to sit upward again.

“Yeah…no one’s ever gone down on me before. You’ve set the bar really high, though.” You panted, buzzing all over.

“Good.” He smirked, leaning into kiss you again.

You couldn’t wait any longer, you needed him. All of him. Right then. You brought your hands up to his belt, eagerly undoing it as he smiled against your lips. He assisted in removing the belt and pushing his jeans down, his cock springing out over the band of his boxers as he pulled them down. He spit into his hand and wrapped around his cock, stroking himself a few times as he stared at you, taking you all in with his eyes before he had his way.

"I need you...I need you right now, Jamie. Please." The words poured out of your mouth, dripping in lust.

Jamie chuckled. "So desperate for me...you're so good for me."

He lined himself up with your waiting cunt, still seated on the edge of the desk. Slowly, he pushed himself in. Your breath hitching as his width stretched your walls, and he let out a moan as he bottomed out. He kissed and bit at your lips as he paused a moment for you to adjust to him, before starting an even and pace of slow, deep thrusting.

“God, I’ve thought of this while I’ve fucked my hand so many times…shit. You feel so good around me, baby.” He said in a gruff voice before burying his face into your neck, his teeth looking to leave more bruises.

“Me too.” You whispered. “Mmm, fuck me, Jamie.”

“Mmm, say that again, love. Say my fucking name.” He groaned, thrusting deeper.

“Mmmm, oh god, please fuck me, Jamie.” You moaned into his ear, your hands sliding through his hair, gripping his blonde hair tight as your eyes closed.

In a swift motion, Jamie pushed you down on your back again, pulling your legs up into his arms. His pace quickened, thrusting hard and fast into you from this angle. With your legs open and held up like this, he was hitting exactly where you needed it. He was fucking you like he wanted you to never forget it, and you knew you never would; you could never after this.

“You’re my fucking girl.” He grunted. “Say it.” He delivered a hard smack to the side of your ass cheek, with your legs still on either side of him. You let out a yelp as his large hand made contact with your soft skin.

“I’m your girl.” You panted. “I’m your girl, Jamie.”

He continued pounding into you. Both of you had long since given up trying to stifle yourselves. You reached down to your clit, circling it with your fingers, looking Jamie directly in the eye. He smiled wickedly with a chuckle as he watched you touch yourself while he fucked you. You felt him twitch inside you, being driven wild at the sight before him.

“Fuck, baby...that’s so sexy…I don’t think I can last much longer.” He gripped your thighs tight in his hands. “Where do you want it?” He asked.

“Inside.” You moaned. “I have an IUD. I want to feel you cum in me.” You arched your back, feeling a second high approaching.

“Okay. Fuuuck. I-…I’m-“

He reached his released, throwing his head back with a string of expletives. You felt his warm, thick seed spill into you, sending you over the edge at the sensation. You clenched around his cock, your body quivering with pleasure. As you both came down from the euphoria, Jamie’s pumping stopped and he stayed still, not yet pulling out of you. He let your legs fall and pulled you back up towards him, his hand sliding up into your hair, while his other hand rested on the small of your back. He placed a delicate kiss on your lips, pulling back as your sweaty foreheads rested together while you both caught your breath.

“Well, I think you passed the exam.” Jamie chuckled.

You laughed. “I’ve always been a bit of a teacher’s pet, hm?”

He slowly pulled out of you, reaching over to a roll of paper towels kept near the whiteboard to help with cleanup of the mess you had both made of yourselves and the desk.

“So… I’m teaching a poetry class next semester.” Jamie began as you finished straightening yourselves and the room up. “If you’re interested in any further extracurricular activities...” He winked.

“You know, I just might switch to being an English major. I suddenly really love literature classes.”

#jamie campbell bower x reader #jamie bower x reader #jamie campbell bower smut #jamie bower smut #jamie campbell bower x y/n #jamie campbell bower imagine #jamie campbell bower fanfic #jamie bower fanfic

[try-set-me-on-fire]

brick. sincerely. i need you to stop. for my own safety and sanity. please 🙏

:)

Later, Bobby will feel a little guilty for being the one who was there. It was complete chance, an entirely accidental set of circumstances. Maddie, it should have been Maddie here, or at least Maddie here too, but Chimney got caught in traffic ferrying Jee-Yun to Mrs. Lee’s before his shift started so he’d had to apologetically hand her off to Maddie at the hospital so she could finish that journey and he could go straight to the station. Hen and Athena were both at work already. The Buckley parents were off somewhere, doing something. Last they’d talked they had complained of the discomfort of waiting room chairs that Bobby had politely sat in for the better part of the last week. Eddie might have been in the hospital or might have been at home with Chris, Bobby never thought to ask afterwards. Not too far, never too far, the palpable desperation of his want to be close to Buck driving him away from the man’s side just as much as it kept him close.

So it’s just Bobby in the room, alone there for no more than 20 minutes when Buck’s eyes start moving behind their lids again. It’s happened fairly frequently over the past 24 hours since they’d taken him off the ventilator, and they’d all tried to learn not to get excited about it and failed every time. Bobby holds his breath as he watches Buck keep taking his own, following the flick back and forth of movement.

He just doesn’t think he has any more claim to Buck than any of the rest of them. He doesn’t deserve to be here more than Hen and Chimney, his siblings by choice, or Maddie, his sister by choice and blood and time and hard work. He doesn’t deserve to be here more than Eddie does, Eddie should be here, Bobby knows his heart would unbreak, seal right back up to see Buck wake again. Christopher, even, the child Buck is helping raise and is so good at doing so, should get to be in this chair at his side. It’s not fair that he - captain and sometimes friend and father only in an abstract, unspoken way that Bobby doesn’t much believe he’s done enough to earn - is the only one present when Buck’s eyes finally, finally flutter open. Bobby had forgotten, somehow, how blue they were, even this tiny peek of them.

“Nurse!”

He’s surprised his voice doesn’t crack more than it does as he calls out, but then he’s not thinking about it at all because Buck’s open eyes drift towards the sound, and Buck is looking right at him.

“Buck- Buck, hey, kid, can you hear me?” His voice shakes and so do his hands as they reach and hover over Buck’s chest and face.

Buck stares blankly at first, blinking slowly, and then his nose wrinkles in such a familiar way that it almost chokes Bobby from the inside. “B…”

“Yeah, yeah, hey, I’m right here-“

Buck blinks again, and Bobby thinks someone should turn the lights off for him, and he vaguely notices that hospital staff are rushing into the room, but then Buck’s eyes are widening and his arm is moving - moving! - and Bobby is catching his hand and Buck’s fingers are curling around his own. “Bobby,” he says, voice raspy and a little slurred and maybe the most beautiful thing Bobby has ever heard.

“Y- yeah, kid, I’m here.” He rests his free hand against Buck’s face and Buck leans into his palm, and tears well up immediately at the small amount of pressure.

Buck searches his face with a frown and Bobby wishes he knew what he was looking for so he could give it to him and smooth over the slant in his eyebrows. “You… you’re okay?”

“Yeah, kid, I’m okay, I’m right here, I’m okay.” Bobby runs a thumb over Buck’s birthmark, squeezes his hand. “It’s okay, you’re awake, your eyes are open-” he has to stop to laugh, it bubbles right up out of him even as the tears spill over. “Your eyes are open. You’re here with me, you’re awake,” he laughs again, choked up with it, and leans his forehead down to rest against Buck’s. Guilt will come later. For now everything is okay, because Evan Buckley died last week and is now nodding against him, breathing on his own, holding his hand, awake, awake, awake.

#my writing #thats his dad…. thats his dad boogie woogie woogie…. #bobby nash #evan buckley #dad and boy

[freshlyrage]

Running Like Water

Chapter 21

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)

fic warnings: NSFW Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues

fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I’m bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon

word count: 9.4k

a/n: Whoa haven't seen you guys since last year... LOL. This is very angst filled, sadly its our last vacation chapter. Back to reality but Javier and Andrea try some new... stuff... this chapter 🍑. If it isn't your thing thats okay!

But (no pun intended) on a less sexy note, Andrea meets some family this chapter.

Sorry for the wait was busy this month having a winter break fling (that's so like me) but back to reality.

Thank you for being so patient with me always.

This is for @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

The two of you leave the studio shortly after Edmond threatened to wring Javier’s neck for the first date joke, well it is our first date. Before that though you were honestly  eager to get out of the place, you needed him back in the hotel room, you needed to thank him with your mouth, with the warmth pooling on the tiny thong under your skirt. While Javi explains to Edmond that you are indeed the girl he had vented about when they first met, usually this would have made you a blushing mess but you were practically squirming in the stool. Your earrings catching the light casting a red reflection against the wall. Your eyes follow the light around the room as the two spoke, your mind drifting in places that could only be described as filthy. Edmond jokes that it had all worked out in the end, it took you a moment to catch up with their jokes. You had disassociated but Javier picked up on it and ushered the two of you out of the studio and back out into the Louisiana heat. 

“I have dinner reservations so behave.” He whispers before grabbing your hand in a sweet possessive hold. Your brows quirk slightly before leaning into him completely. He seemed to be hyper focused on getting the two of you to the proper place at the right time because his eyes went all squinted while he walked you through the busy sidewalks. 

“I am behaving.” You were, sure, maybe it was a bit rude of you to look around the room aimlessly while Javier caught up with his old pal, but you truly didn't mean to. There was something about girls like you, girls who craved to be wanted–once you get a taste–insatiable is the only word to describe you. So insatiable that you couldnt give a fuck about a dinner date with Javier Peña, it was so like you. So like you to feel so overwhelmed with love, a feeling so foreign, so strong that now you can't think of anything else but the thought of him inside of you. Good lord you were soaking. 

His cheeks were still red, either from tears or the high sun. Regardless he looks down at you with a teasing smirk that quickly hardens and turns into a disapproving head shake. “I saw you out of the corner of my eye, querida. Wiggling around in that stool.” He says in hush tones, you break eye contact in slight embarrassment. You know that annoys him, when you shy away because you feel his body stiffen. Poor Javi, you think. One day he’ll understand you fully, he knows you better than anyone else  but he still isn't used to your self-destructive tendencies of self-manipulation and constantly wondering whether he truly likes you. And despite today being the greatest testament of his devotion for you there was still that part of you that was a girl without a father. How humiliating? You also know he is never truly upset with you, even when he stands up straight and huffs a breath, it's always followed by silence, his space to try to figure you out.

There's a lot to learn, six years apart is too much for anyone. You've become four different people in these six years. 

By the time the two of you entered the warmly lit restaurant you've given your brain some time to think of meeting your grandmother tomorrow, now thats a thought to have you quit squirming. The desire you felt so heavily only half an hour before left in an instant at the thought of what's to come tomorrow. As you settle in your seat the thought of your father not being alive crosses your mind, instinctively you touch the bee earrings softly.

You feel Javi watching you with intent, a small frown on his lips as he adjusts his belt buckle while he sits. If your stomach wasn't doing turns from impending doom you would have made a big dick joke, you suddenly didn’t have it in you. You quit touching the earrings and let out a shaky breath before grabbing the menu. 

“What’s wrong Andrea?” He asks, stern, almost like it's a statement. Like nothing is not an answer he’ll accept. He knows something is wrong. 

“I’m really nervous for tomorrow.” You admit without any tooth pulling. Uncrossing your legs beneath the table, Javi nods firmly he knew how to react to you when you admitted things like this. There's nothing you hated more than someone screwing their brows in concern and pity, he never did that. He just nodded, solid, dependable and able to listen. He doesn't respond so you continue. Brushing a piece of hair from your face you sip the water given. “I also don’t want this weekend to end. I don’t want to go back. I especially don’t want to go back if tomorrow goes bad, I don’t have it in me to explain that to my mother.” There it was, that other part. The sheer embarrassment that could be awaiting you, the possibility of being humiliated by your paternal family and coming home to a mother that will look at your tear stained cheeks and say, I told you so. 

Javi clenches his jaw at the slight shake in your voice, and it’s so like him. He puts his large hand palm up at the small table between you two. Your heart grows in your chest and without hesitation you place your own small hand over his. Manicured nails circling the dry lines there, his thumb rises and wedges between two fingers tickling you a spot you never knew tickled. You choke out a giggle and dug your nails into his palm, he winces in fake pain. Ow, he grumbles. You take his hand entirely and lifts it to your face, pressing a kiss to his palm. He smiles, his dimples deepening and his eyes crinkling. “Sorry.” You say and kiss his palm again, “Sorry for attacking you with my nails even though you’ve made me the happiest girl in the world today.” 

He shakes his head in a shy little act, wow, you wanted to jump his bones again. “It’s okay I like it when you’re rough.”

“Oh shut up.” You laugh, pressing his palm to your cheek before placing it back down on the table. “And I’m sorry for ruining the mood with my sulking.” 

 “Don’t apologize to me.” Javier furrowed his brow in disapproval, “If tomorrow doesn’t go the way you plan I’ll extend our weekend, give you time to recover here. Don’t care if it’ll be obvious to everyone that we’re together, we’ll figure it out.”

Your lips quirk in a satisfied smile, you’ll take it. You were minutes away from suggesting the two of you stay in New Orleans until the damn wedding Saturday. The two of you were so in love it was hard to be logical. Hiding your face a smidge as you lift the menu to cover your crimson cheeks. “Okay, that's fine with me.” 

“God I wish I knew she was that mean to you–I’m like regretting being her friend a little bit.” You were slurping down pasta with a frown, hearing stories from high school about Lorraine. The more he uncovered, the more you regret giving her grace. Every new piece of information was followed with Javier’s attempt to excuse it. You suppose the both of you have some things to learn, you wanted to tell him that her actions and his faults were not in the slightest bit comparable. Like;

On valentine's day she got drunk and purposefully poured wine on my favorite sweater in front of all my friends. But she was mad because I skipped sunday mass with her family the week before. 

Or,

I was really upset with her cheating, but she blamed it on the time I called you pretty in front of her. I guess to her that was emotionally cheating.

You sat in front of him with your mouth agape, or you cursed under your breath before shutting yourself up with carbs. “None of that is normal, you shouldn't make excuses for that sort of behavior. I doubt she does when she complains about you to other people.” You say while dabbing the corners of your lips free of marinara. 

He laughs and nods in agreement, “You're right, I want to be the bigger person though. No need to be upset on my behalf querida.”

The 2nd glass of wine gets to you slightly as you roll your eyes aggressively, feeling awfully protective of your boyfriend. You remember which sweater it was, it was the white knitted one he wore to his last christmas at home, he would wear that thing to every holiday. “Whatever, god forbid I feel defensive over my man.” You whisper and bring your glass to your tinted lips. Javier’s lips quirk at its corners, you know he loved hearing that come from your mouth. You noticed it just thirty minutes prior when you told the waiter, my boyfriend would like the same. You picked up on the way he shifted in his seat when you called him baby. For the past 10 minutes you had been slipping the pet names slowly and scattered, he was getting worked up. Look who needs to behave now. 

“Hmm.” He huffs, annoyed, turned on, grumpy and everything else.

You bite back a tipsy smile, slipping your pointed heel up his calf slowly, until the outsole skated his inner thigh. He shakes his head and looks to you through a half lidded gaze. “Relax.” His voice deep and striking, loud enough for the other patrons to hear. You nod in agreement and attempt to move your foot back down but before you could make the effort his hand falls between his spread legs and holds your delicate foot in place on his lap. Your breath hitches in your throat, your leg pulled so still your skirt rides up. Saving yourself from the breeze, your left leg tightens to cover the soaked fabric now exposed. 

With his right hand holding your heeled foot and his left hand on the table, he grabs his glass and continues at his drink. Your breath is hitched in your throat, you feel his stare. His eyes glued to your chest, your nipples pebbled under the fabric. You don’t listen to his demand, incorrigibly you lean forward releasing some tension with the press of your legs and the hip movement required for you to move closer. “Why are you being so mean?” 

His eyes narrow, “Mean? A weekend getaway, museum date and those pretty earrings.” He teases and you nearly laugh, nearly, truthfully you were so turned on you couldn’t care to play these games. You’ve had years to do that. You survey the restaurant, there had only been about ten tables and each paired with a couple or a group of men in suits. Your eyes dart to the family bathroom, Javier follows your line of sight with a smirk. No families, you note. Less guilt for what you’re about to do. 

You drop your heel from his hold and wipe the corners of your mouth, “Well, you’ve spoiled me Javi.” You shrug, adjusting your small cardigan to cover your pointed nipples. He laughs a hearty chuckle. Your face falls to straight seriousness, hair readjusted. His nostrils flare at your hardened look.

“Rotten.” 

Your eyes shrink with a slight hint of petulance. Like a little girl not getting her way, absolutely not. Eyes scanning the room once more, “Well if you’ll excuse me. I’m going to take care of myself in the bathroom.” You huff before rising to your feet. Feeling the table to your right shooting a glance at your figure. With a strut of false confidence, your knees were buckling with fear he won’t follow you and just think you’re upset with him. It’s the last message you want to get across after he poured his aching soul to you at the gallery.

Javier watches you walk to the bathroom and close the door behind you. Well he watches to make sure no one else was watching because the pencil skirt you decided to wear curved perfectly below your ass, making it apparent to everyone that your behind was a tight little thing. Rolling his tongue against his cheek he waits a few seconds before pinching the bridge of his nose. 

He knows you, he knows you’ve been pent up since the gallery, since he put those earrings on you. How could he not know, you practically screwed your brows in bliss every time he took a look at you. Truthfully on their walk to the restaurant he was still reeling from the entire first date thing, he had never lost his composure like that—to cry in front of someone— to cry in front of you. He’d be a lying dog if it didn’t scare the living shit out of him. So scared that he nearly thought about just saying fuck it and getting down on one knee and proposing to you with some fucking earrings. 

He knew it before. He knows it now that what you too have is forever, beyond time and circumstance, there was no way you two could live a life with other people. What a discovery to make on a first date. 

Anyway those feelings of sheer terror and love, they’re the same in his head, were quickly replaced with every tiny possessive nickname you let leave your red bitten lips. He was fully hard by the time you decided to play footsie with him, he wondered if you felt the strain against his pants through your heels. He decided he was going to fuck you into the mattress when the two of you got back to the hotel but he supposes you had different plans. 

His eyes glued to his glass he picks it up and downs it. “Fuck it.” He murmurs before wiping his mustache, adjusting his shirt and heading for a straight bee line for the bathroom. 

You smile softly at him through the mirror, “I was starting to think you didn’t get the memo.” Javi nods, his mind set. Silent and brooding behind you. Your confidence seemed to have faded with each passing minute he contemplated whether to follow you or not. “I was afraid you thought I was really upset-Oh Javi.” You shriek the second he tosses your skirt over your ass. Instinctually bending a bit over the sink. Dropping to his knees, his dirty thoughts win as he slightly sinks his teeth into your tan behind. You giggle at the absurdity of it all, but he doesn’t care what it would look like to  anyone else. He was a man utterly in love with his girlfriend, and with how soft her ass was. 

Javier kisses each cheek of hers and laces each kiss with a bite then a firm tug. Kneading and kisses, his large palms have finally found something that he didn’t completely engulf. Why was it so sexy when his hand covered your entire breast yet even sexier that your ass finally dwarfs him? He’s never been a man above worship, above religion, still he had never believed in a god so clear, so real until he came home and had you. Was it normal to be this enthralled by a partner? Was it just the honeymoon? He really couldn't care anymore about those questions because god, Andrea, he murmurs like a prayer.  

With your skirt piled at your hips, the tiny little red thong was fair game for his needy kisses. His teeth graze the string that just barely covered the one part of you that’s untouched, you buck as his fingers spread you open, the loose string falling to the side to expose you there. “Anyone ever touch you here?” He asks with his left hand holding you open, and his right thumb skimming so close. He knows the answer. He wants to hear it. You screw your eyes shut, a small whimper escapes your parted lip. Your heels slip on the tile, he lets up his left hand to hold you steady. 

Tossing your hair over one shoulder and attempting to look back at him you whisper, “Never—I want to try but-”

But I’m not sure I want that sort of first time to be in a restaurant bathroom. You think.

He knows exactly what you mean, he knows how delicate this part of sex could be, he knew it's a lot more than a heat of the moment decision. He’d never, not in a place like this. Though, he had other ideas, “Another time, can I taste you here at least.” He taps at your cunt and you eagerly reach behind and slide your panties to the side. Javi smiles when he’s met with his girlfriend’s swollen cunt just for him. Good lord, he did not want to think about having to sneak around again. For the two of you to be limited beyond your control the second you step home. He wondered why he couldn’t just rent a home out here just for the two of you, just until he leaves. Will they be reduced once again to just twice a week, all pent up and hand-covering mouth sex in his bed. He tried not to think, tried. 

One thing the two of you have grown fond of is him eating you out from behind. This position was just like the second time, in his room on memorial day. You look over your shoulder, the cardigan slipped low to expose the tan shoulder of yours. With lidded eyes you stare into Javier’s soul as you reach your hand between his face and your bent form. With a shy blush your delicate fingers run across the seam of your cunt and slowly up to skim the tight hole that's been the object of Javier’s deepest fantasies. 

“You can taste here too.” You quip, you weren’t sure if people even did that. You could be making a fool out of yourself but you knew after his fingers got close to your asshole, you felt a new pit in your belly. Javier’s eyes raised and he suddenly felt like a kid in a candy store. Never in a million years did he ever imagine a world where you agreed to something like this. He mumbles deeply, Jesus Christ. You didn’t have to tell him twice. 

He plunged his face into your cunt first, quicker and less teasing this time, they were in a public bathroom for crying out loud. His licks and sucks are wet and aggressive. His head shaking in between. You drop your head into your chest and the slow build of release. If he kept up this pace you’ll be writhing in climax in thirty more seconds. You're not sure you were ready for the moment he proceeds to eat you out just there. For a moment you wonder if this is really something people do during sex, you’ve had girl friends who have tried anal but none of them ever mentioned their boyfriends eating them out there. You wonder if you're the first people to ever do this- or it’ll feel good at all. You surely weren’t ready, the second his heavy tongue slid up to your place untouched, and you weren’t expecting such a feeling.

You shrieked loud enough for the guests to hear. Javier’s heart sank and paused for a second while you covered your mouth.

“I’m sorry-I’m sorry.” 

Javier’s brows tensed, “Is it too much?” He asks lowly, looking up at the back of your head. You screw your eyes shut, and nod.

“No-I just didn’t expect for it to feel so good.” You whisper as if to do damage control for the shriek you let out, with your head dropped in shame you feel his chuckle between your cheeks. Okay, he laughs and continues again. You’re more prepared this time–yeah you two definitely aren't the firsts to discover eating ass. This has got to be popular.

His head moving skillfully, his chin skimming your cunt along with it. Shaking his head and devouring you whole. And oh, it was a feeling so good you were afraid to know what it would feel like if he applied more pressure than a tongue back there. You never saw the appeal in anything to do with anal—suddenly—you suppose it takes the right person. You always told yourself you’d never try any of that unless you were married or something— well close enough. Your knuckles go white gripping the porcelain tops. He parts for a second and spits directly on your ass, parting you to watch it slide down onto your cunt. 

“You like being a dirty girl? Yeah, Andrea?” he gets close again to clean up his mess and good gracious you were close. “Letting me eat your ass like this? Used to think you were so shy—now look at what you’re letting me do to you.” He dives in again, this time reaching his entire body leans with it. His hands gripping the tops of your thighs while he moves from your cunt to your ass and back-and back again. 

Your forehead presses against the mirror and you catch your own eyes for a moment and you’re absolutely disgusted by the sight. Disgusted in the best way possible. You are filthy, you love it—you loved this. You bend further to give him better access to your clit and you’re a goner. Your ears ring and you fall limp but like always he never lets you fall. He’s at his feet again, pressing your knees together. He unbuckles himself and relieves his aching cock from their confinement. You open your mouth to tell him to put it in but he speaks first.  

“I’m gonna come, just let me—fuck.” He grabs himself and fists himself over your bent body. “Let me fuck your thighs really quick—please princesa, let me—” He grits and you bite your lips at the thought. Your heart skips a beat or a few, so many firsts. Why is the thought so enticing?

Okay—please, you murmur and without hesitation he drags his cock between your folds, collecting slip before thrusting. He wipes his eye as an attempt to readjust his blurry mind. The post orgasm clarity will hit him soon, it didn’t matter now he was too pent up to care. He humps you from behind, his length squeezed by your thighs and his tip nudging your overstimulated clit. There was something depraved about the action, being used in this way. Being used and loving the way it feels.

And he’s driving fast, pre-cum spreading at the tops of your thighs. How he made sex so enjoyable was beyond you, all you could do is softly sigh and moan, nearly drooling from your mouth falling open. “Javi please– I-” Perhaps your moans were a bit too loud because his hand snakes up to your mouth, effectively muzzling you. You babble incoherent begs and moans into his dry palm, while his other hand death gripped your hips for stability. It didn’t take many thrusts for you to be coming again, his hand on your hip quickly snaked to hold your thighs tighter against him and with that he finished over the tops of your thighs, painting you perfectly. His own little art piece. 

There’s a ringing silence for a moment as he slips out from behind you. You catch your breath, wiping your tears away. Head heavy, too frazzled to adjust to the situation. Javier just ate your ass out in a restaurant bathroom and fucked your thighs. And you came twice in ten minutes. Jesus take the fucking wheel. 

“I-I’m sorry I’ve never done anything like that before.” You almost expect for those words to come from your mouth but it aches all the same coming from his. You turn around to him, knowing the sight is probably ridiculous, tear stained cheeks, a wrap skirt hiked up your legs and his come spread at the tops of your thighs.

Your eyes soften watching him fumble to tuck himself away. You could see his jaw clenched, you knew when his mind was on overdrive. This is one of those moments. Like he’s drafting ways to apologize to you. 

“I liked it.” You admit in a whisper. 

His brows shoot up and he looks up to you. The color in his face returning, as he fastened his belt. “You did?” 

You blush, your eyes falling to your thighs. “I did, we should try more stuff like that… it was… really hot.” You admit, looking up at him through your brow bone. His nostrils flare and he’s nodding. 

“Okay.” He nods sternly in the same old grumpy Javi way. 

Your lips twist at the silliness of it all. “Okay…” 

“Alright.” He’s still staring at your thighs. 

You giggle, “Jesus christ Javi! Clean me up!”

He jumps in place, “Right sorry.”

It’s safe to say that the two of you were quite full after the whole restaurant debacle. Frankly your last night should’ve been filled with endless love making but Javier could sense your nerves. After tipsy kisses and stumbling into the room the reality began to set in. You struggled to sleep that night, afraid of waking up to a packed room and a car ride to your grandmother's home. He slipped into the shower with you without any advances, you wouldn't mind it all but he reads you, he washes you without lingering touches and only a few kisses. The two of you find a rhythm, drying off, getting into his shirt and some panties. The two of you exchange stories before bed, who knew he was such a softy like you. 

“I’m always nervous before meeting old people.” You admit. Its a stupid quirk of yours but man do the elderly intimidate you. You chose teaching because you knew that dealing with the elderly would be far from that area. “They can be so judgemental and old fashioned, its painful– every conversation.”

Javier strokes his hand against your arm, “You're rambling. It's time for bed baby.”

He was right, you had no need to bring that up, you just really didn't want the day to end. Why is that you were so afraid of the thing you yearned for your entire life?

The morning is quiet and gloomy, it rained the entire night so the sky was all gray clouds with peaking sun. The entire room was packed by the time you sat up to rub your eyes. Your stomach is so uneasy you could only take four bites of the waffles he called in for you, no syrup, just butter and powdered sugar how you like it. He’s quiet too as he folds your clothes. You check out at twelve and load his car again. He kisses your temple before opening the car door for you. You nod a silent thanks before you settle into the car seat. Head leaned against the window. Reaching into the dash board for the map, finger tracing until it stops at the road circled labeled, Andrea’s Grandma, you smile to yourself thinking about Javier at his desk circling and routing a way to her grandmother's home the night before their trip. 

With fear of rejection you fiddle with the bee earrings in your ears, grounding yourself with the reminder of Javier even when he's right next to you.

The home was fairly close, only an hour away from the hotel. Javi smokes two cigarettes with the low sound of the road below the tires and slow soul music filling the car. It was then when you realized Javier was nervous too. You think of what he told you at La Belle Forme, about his panic attack. It was rare for silence to exist between them not like this. You kiss his knuckles, a few kisses, you suppose you found solace in comforting him. 

When the car slowed down you weren't expecting to be approached with large estates with rolling grass and bald cypress trees casting down like curtains. When Lorena called you pictured an elderly woman in a small home, you never envisioned a large white home attached to other small homes. You looked down at the map. 4289 Coventy Court, “Its the small house, the big one is 4287.” You point, it all seemed to be on the same estate though, you'll still have to walk through this strangers beautiful front lawn in order to get to your grandmothers. Javi nods, shutting the car off. Your hands drop to play with the ripped ends of the map. 

His palm comes over to your lap and grabs at your fidgeting hands, his hands always cold and dry and large. “¿Estás segura de que estás lista?” He asks so softly, he did that often, reassuring you in spanish. You inhale deeply, looking at your connected hands and then to the house peeking behind the large trees. You nod. 

And there it is, right In front of you— a physical manifestation of the answers you’ve prayed to hear. Everything you've ever wanted to know. It could split you completely, could kill you, but it could free you. A small part of you hopes it splits your heart in two so that you're prepared for heartache in November at the hands of the DEA. Who knew Javier could hurt you more than your father? When did you give him that power, you suppose it’s when you realized it was love. 

The two of you climb out of the truck and make your way through the cobblestone path, “I’m not going to get shot out here right?” Javi whispers and you cant even itch out a giggle from the coil of nerves in your chest, he doesn’t joke anymore. He trails behind you while you lead the way, like you know where to go— you haven’t had a fucking clue. With every tap of your sneakers on the ground you felt panic rise higher in your throat. 

You could feel Javier behind you, keeping his steps slower than your own. Giving you space you weren’t sure you wanted. You appreciated it nonetheless. Like he was ready to run and get the car if anything hurts you. He’s 3 steps behind you once you close your eyes shut before knocking on the light blue door. Your eyes surveying the plants lining the white porch. “¡entra!” A distant voice calls from beyond the door and its the same voice from the phone. Something in you bursts, your eyes dart to Javier in fit of panic. Fuck it. You open the door to the home. 

The astounding amount of pastels blind you. An entire rolling carpet of white at your feet, Javier holds his arm out before you nervously put your outside shoes inside this museum piece of a home. You saw her too, out of the corner of your eye. Sat in a wheelchair with hair pressed straight down to her hips, with a book in her lap – the sound of birds chirping splitting your ears as you unlace your shoes with shaky hands. Javier seemed to have slipped his shoes in record time because his socked foot took a step inside before he bent down again to grab your shoes and tossed them outside. 

Standing up straight the woman in front of you widens her eyes at the sight of you, her smile splitting her face in two and you arent sure if anyone had ever looked at you with such melancholy before. She was a beautiful woman, well kept from what you can see it seemed like she had a lot of help. For once in your life you feel strong, chin up and nearly smiling. Lorena fully smiles and there it is–You can finally pin point where your bright grin comes from. "Ven aquí! Get over here before I try to walk to you!." She shouts with that same accent you remember over the phone and with that you're padding over to your grandmother. Embracing her for the first time. Receiving kisses to the side of your head, and caresses and you don’t feel sad anymore–or nervous. You sat in front of her and Javier stayed in his lane, quiet and observing. His hand on your while she explained how she found your number. 

“My greatest friend Griselda moved to Laredo about a year ago. I had been pushing the poor woman to look through the phonebook for your name– I didn't know if you had our last name or hers. Whatever I found it and tried calling but your mother– you already know.”

You sure did, the conversation was what you expected it to be. She attempts to understand what your life has been like this whole time. You tell her your mother owned a boutique and that your brother was on his last week of being a bachelor, she teared up at that. You almost forgot she was around when your brother was just two years old, she laughs when explaining his biting problem. Her eyes fall between the two of you a few times, you and Javier and your joined hands. The way his were in your lap and  how your nail grazed the strong tendons of your lovers hands. She kept the questions Andrea central.

Did you end up going to college?

Yes, University of Miami. I’m a middle school teacher.

She laughs and claps her hands together, she tells you taught for thirty six years. Your heart nearly bursts in your chest. 

So are you living at home?

For now, yes. I’m looking to move soon.

Do you like your brother's wife to be?

Oh–yeah. She’s been my close friend since I was in middle school. 

She nods, turning to her left to grab her cup of tea. There had been two cups left out. She let you in on how she kept the place so tidy, her home nurse Ms. Cristina, who worked for her every day. She points to her bird cage at the corner of the living room which shows the only non-tidy part of the house full of bird seeds on the floor, They also take of me. 

“And this–.” She smiled, waving her finger in between you two. “How did you two meet.”

“Oh!” You laugh, Javier cracks a smile. “We-”

“Uh-No. I want to hear his story. Ha estado sentado ahí en completo silencio, habla, hijo.” She cuts you off in the only way elderly people know how, gracefully and silly all at once. Your cheeks burn red. Absolutely intrigued to hear his explanation. His face softens for a moment before he breaks into a deep chuckle. Rubbing his eye in that same nervous tick that he always does. 

“Oh–We were just kids when we met.” He was instantly interrupted by a yelp from your grandmother. 

“¡Ay, por Dios! Qué romántico. So you two have been together since then?” Perhaps it was rude but immediately you and Javier look at each other and let out a cackle in unison. Leaning into his shoulder as you giggle while your grandma sits confused, wondering what was so funny about her question. “What-What’s so funny?” She says with a hint of humor in her own tone.

Javier shakes his head and replies, “It took us close to a decade to get here.” His eyes flash to yours, soft and gleaming. He looks at you like this often—always, but there’s a different look, something close to pride. Truthfully, he was overjoyed to talk about you to someone, especially to someone who by some crazy phone call and last minute trip—is your family. 

Lorena smiles, sipping her tea with a nod. Her eyes floating to something behind you, above your head. You don’t turn to see what has made her eyes misty and youthful for a moment. “Ah.. one of those. I’m familiar, promise you. What is it that you do Javier?”

He straightens up at the question like it shattered the small world he’s created with you. “I’m a DEA agent, I’m assigned in Colombia starting this November.” It was firm, devoid of laughter and pride. Like a soldier being questioned about deployment. Your grandmothers brows screw in sympathy the second he mentions being away, her eyes falling to your own. You tried to be strong but the reminder chips away at your spirit each time. Five months away. Your eyes drop to your knees. 

“Ah… I see.” Softly she points her chin high, a necklace falling out of her cashmere sweater with the movement. She nudges behind you, where her eyes fell previously, you and Javier turn slightly. The image of a man in black and white, eyes light and a stern look. Clad in military attire, and a nose so similar to your own. You into the eyes of your grandfather for the first time. How could you have forgotten? You haven't even asked about him, his name–anything. You notice then that the entire hour you have spent in your grandmother's home you hadn't once thought of your father. Something about the eyes in the photo seared you, What if my fathers dead? “Your grandfather was also named Lucas. He was my high school sweetheart but we broke up after he decided to leave me for the war. Listen, I respect our military but–not for him–absolutely not. He was always leaving, estúpido, estúpido. We split when he was apart, it wasn't very easy to be in contact like it is now. But… I didn't wait, I found someone else but mija… the second he stepped foot on american soil we were married and I was pregnant with your father 3 years later.”

Javier placed his hand on your lower back at some point during her story, thumb softly rubbing into your thin t-shirt. Your eyes threatened to betray you. You know why she chooses to tell you this story, you suppose this sort of thing runs in the family. Leaving and watching the ones who leave. “He died before me, that absolute idiot.” She sniffles and shakes her head. You turn back around, facing her–she had already wiped her tears away. And she does it just like you, palm first and hurried. Who knew the sight of your grandmother crying could fill you with such warmth, you suppose you were never emotional in the same way your mother was. You wondered where it came from, you guess you can say you've got it from your grandmother.

“Oh, I'm so sorry.” You choke on your own words and she waves her hand  in a its alright but it isn't motion. She grabs her teacup once more, her eyes stuck to yours until her brows shoot up in shock.

“Oh–your father. It's so like me to get wrapped up in myself, I’m sure you have a million questions. I can settle your nerves and tell you that he is very much alive.” She laughs, she really was a kookie old lady. “He also knows that you’re here.”

“What?” You and Javier blurt simultaneously, the two of you leaning in on your knees. For a split second your cheeks heat at the thought of Javier being this invested but that completely flies out the window while your grandmother nods with a smile. 

“This is his estate, you think a school teacher could afford all this? His home was the big one right next door. He’s nervous but he is expecting you. I thought I’d give him time to… speak for himself.” She nods and settles her cup down once more. “I’m not trying to kick you out but he’s probably bouncing his knee for the thousandth time over there”

“You’ve gone non-verbal Andrea.” The two of you kissed your grandmother goodbye with promises of a second visit in the next few months, Javier was micro analyzing your every move. How after the bomb was dropped you had frozen in fear and only muttered 4 more words. Her brows furrowed as the two of them approached the back door of her fathers home. Javier knew what this meant, what this all means. He sees what its doing inside of you, your body is rejecting the truth that, A. your father is alive and B. He seems to be doing quite well for himself. Your grandmother gave the two of you instructions like you were on a secret mission. 

Go through the back door

Javi, it's best you wait in the hall. 

He will most likely be sat in his office, first door on your right. 

You just nodded with a knot in your throat. Javier watches you lead the way in silence and it's killing him to know how much this is taking a toll on you already.

You have eaten in on yourself already, absent in the eyes.

 He remembered fathers day being a particularly rough day for you during your summers. How you would call Javier’s house but he’d have to explain that he was on his way out fishing with Chucho. He can't think too hard about all of that, he might crumble himself and he had to be strong, he had to be that for you. You step up and look over your shoulder, nearly tripping–Javier catches you at your elbow and you are trembling. 

“Sorry, I’m trying to catalog all the questions I have.” You chuckle and there isn't a bit of humor behind it, just nerves and all. “His house is way too nice. This door knob looks like pure gold.” You attempt a joke but Javier can't seem to laugh either. And like the brave girl you are, you don't hesitate this time, you twist the doorknob pushing the door open. Ahead of you was a grandiose hallway, white paneled walls with tiny intricate floral designs. 

The door to his office is already in your view, a long ottoman right outside the door like a waiting room. It felt nothing like a home, like a sterile office or a Homes and Gardens spread. Javier selfishly thinks of how their home will look one day, it will never feel this cold, not in the Louisiana heat. He’d settle down with you in Louisiana. He decided this weekend, he’d like to watch you bask in under the cajun sun with a belly. 

The two of you stand side by side in front of a door with no imperfections but a carving of the letter L on the wood. Your brows furrow, “Okay.” You exhale, turning to Javier knowing this is where you part, knowing that whatever goes on behind those doors could hurt you in a way he fears he can never fix. So maybe he’s just as scared, he nods silently and firm. Still putting his act up for your sense of security, he knows you can read right through it, he also knows you love that he does this for you. 

He can see it on your lips, see the 3 words, the words he knows you tried to spill out twice on this trip. He shakes his head and grabs your face in a chaste kiss. Your hands hold at his shoulders as you rise on your tiptoes to return it deeper. He doesn’t let you stall, he steps away. “I’ll be right here.” Javier juts his chin toward the ottoman, and he watches you disappear into the room. 

Sitting down with a strain in his lower back from the drive and his body's reaction to the thought of the ride they have to take once this is all over. Javier leans his head back, his eyes facing the ceiling. Touched with a heavy weight and the lingering thought of maybe one day having one of these moments with his own mother, if she’s out there. He busies himself with an attempt of remembering her face, drawing her in white lights behind his closed eyes that he was too damn scared to open, scared to be present. Scared of not being strong enough for you. Afraid of opening his eyes and seeing a blackhole ready to swallow him whole, engulfing himself in his own grief that he’s shoved down trying to be a man for you. 

He sees your face at first, angled cheeks he first sees you now, a longer face–lips full, a nose with a tiny slope and teeth always threatening to split your lips in a smile. He also sees what you looked like in 1980, rounder cheeks, the face of a shy girl. He remembers your cheeks always being pink. His chest constricts when he pictures that same young face full of tears at fault of his own fears. That's when he makes out his mothers face, eyebrows a light-light brown, so light they always seemed barely there. Her freckle below her eye, her eyes clad with glasses and quirk between her brow. Of disapproval for all things involving their life as a family.

Javier snaps his eyes open at the thought. Straightening up, attempting to now hear what was being said behind the door. His eyes adjust to the bright light of the hall, it really felt like a waiting room. Javier blinks away the floaters.

In front of him is a single picture hung on the wall.

It's an image of your father, he sees the resemblance immediately. But that isn't what catches his eye. Javier's heart drops nauseatingly fast at the sight of two young girls-twins, in the photograph. And in cursive in the far corner,

Best Dad Ever  

He’s up and hugging you before you could take in that this is really happening. The hug is tight, it's unfamiliar, it's strangling and you attempt to hug back to make it feel loving but it just isn't there yet. You want to pinch yourself, you've dreamt up this moment. You hugged your own aching body to sleep countless nights wishing for a hug from your father and now that it’s here, you can't even register the difference between him and a stranger.

He holds your face for a moment with his eyes misty, your chin quivers then. He was a splitting image of your grandfather. Eyes a hazel, his hair shaggy and long. Like he doesn't belong in a home this large, you close your eyes for a moment. Overstimulated with the situation, your father cradles your face for the first time since you were a premature newborn. He even calls you beautiful a few times and you’ve never felt stronger for not melting into a puddle of tears. Perhaps you were just too happy.

It was the happiest moment. 

You sit in front of him and he has a sheet in front of him. You couldn't be bothered talking about yourself again but you do anyway, he leaned in with every small fact. He beams with a laugh when you tell him that little Frankie was expecting a baby and wedding. He claims that these past years he wondered what you were doing with your life, once your eighteenth birthday approached he says he stayed up the entire night wondering what this next step would look like for you. 

“It seems like you've done well for yourself–I'm sorry Andrea, I’m sorry I wasn't there.” You were the only person in tears in the room but you couldn't be bothered to be embarrassed. The tears were only joyful, those sorts came rarely for you. You allowed them to flow without shame. 

It’s okay dad, it's okay. You whisper, “My mom–she says she left because you were–”

“An addict.” He cuts. “I was, I got clean the second she fled with you. I called my mom and she sent me to a rehabilitation facility in New York. It’s where I lived most of my life, where I built my business. Where I met my wife.” He smiles to himself and you smile too. What a privilege it is to be loved by someone else. “She isn't home today,  told her we would be meeting today and she decided to not overwhelm you so she’s out. I hope you don’t mind.”

You reach out for the box of tissues at his desk, dabbing your eyes. “It's okay–I'm sorry that my mom did that– leaving without notice, it-it kills me when I think of it.” You wipe again as more tears fall, god why was it so difficult to talk when crying. You think of the day after your birth often, you think of your father asleep in a hospital chair, you think of him waking up in an empty room. Your heart chips away slowly but then you look at his face again and he looks just as confused.

He straightened up and his jaw clenched. You were to oblivious to notice the change in his demeanor.

“Andrea– I knew she was going to leave– I- I encouraged her to… I was too sick. I wasn't ready then– I waited six years until I had kids.” 

You swear the feeling was akin to being cut by the sharpest blade, sliced slowly down your sternum and the weight of the world on your shoulders. There you are, in front of your father, bleeding out, being drained in front of him. Your head feels light as everything you thought you knew turns on its head. Your eyes fall to your knees, staring into the denim of your pants, trying to register if any of this is real.

What? You whisper. 

“Oh Andrea–Melissa–your mother. She sat in that hospital bed and cried, she begged me to get clean for you, but she didn't know how all of that worked. I had to do it for myself, and I did. I asked her to leave. I wasn���t ready, sweetheart.”

The name stung, you sat there, you were an open wound in front of your father as he explains that he made the choice to reject you. 

Your chin quivered in a new way, no longer happy. No longer tears between teeth, “I’m really confused.” 

“I forgave myself for that decision in rehab. I found god and I absolve myself from that guilt through years of healing, Adalina and Adare’s birth helped me free myself from that decision. I knew you were taken care of I had to–”

“I-I wasn't taken care of. I wasn't loved. I was ignored–I-I spent the holidays alone. I was raised by a nanny–When-when I fell off my bike I relied on my brother's best friend to take care of me. I needed you but I was never angry at you for not looking because I thought you were left completely in the dark.” Each word came with a sob so deep, you weren't sure your body could handle a heartbreak like this. His lips thinned and his brows creased in sympathy that didn't feel genuine. You had sisters, sisters with names awfully close to your own. "Did-did you know where I was?"

"I had you address for several years, yes." Cooly he says it. “Andrea–I'm really upset to hear that. I had assumed you were okay, you never looked for me.”

You shook your head with closed eyes, tears staining your neck. “I shouldn't have to–I’m the child…” You whined, regressing to a little girl, you couldn't help it. This was the worst pain you've felt. “I needed you– I needed a dad.”

“I understand, I understand the importance of a father in a young woman's life–I've got two of my own–But I cannot be sorry for the decision I made twenty two years ago.” How could he be so cold, so analytical. How is it that he talks about the situation like he’s just an observer? 

“Three, you have three daughters.” Your voice sobers, its anger this time. You were so upset that he couldn't see this the way you do. Your eyes burn into his and there isn't anything, there's nothing. You began to wonder how he could be the product of a woman like Lorena. “You had me on January 14th 1964, you watched my mom carry me for 7 months before she couldn’t– I’m your daughter too.” You spit without a shaking breath. 

His face tightens and he nods, “Technically speaking yes-”

“Oh give me a fucking break!” You cuss, jumping to your feet and he jumps in his seat. 

“Please do not cuss in my home.” 

You were red hot, fuming as your eyes finally took in the catholic iconography throughout the office. And the many, many pictures of your sisters. Wiping your tears with your palms, fast like you want to hide from him that he even made you cry in the first place. “You are a pathetic person. I feel so ridiculous having wasted so many years wanting you. I’ll see my way out.” You turn and he’s following you, repeating your name but no apologies. You swing the door open and Javier is there at his feet already, with a tense face. You see it, he heard it all and he’s angry. 

“Please Andrea, let's just pray together.”

You cackle and glance at your boyfriend. “Let's go Javi.” You storm past him, swinging the backdoor open. 

The second the rolling front yard and southern sun hits your skin you begin to sob. Chest wracking yet silent as you walk away from your fathers home. As you walk away from someone else's father. You chest hiccuping as you blurily lead yourself down the path, Javier's steps quickening behind you. Your cheeks hot and stung with tears, head pounding you knew you looked like a swollen hot mess. You hug your own shaking body all the way to the car. Climbing in the passenger's seat with more tears. 

You aren't sure if you could ever be okay.

Javier circles the car with his heart in his throat, hearing each word and feeling the cuts deep. He sits and thinks, she won't be able to handle this. He knows you, he knows you enough to love you. He knows you are strong, he also knows no child is strong enough to face rejection from a parent. So he stares at your father before you have walked out the home, he contemplates killing him there. He wants to hurt the man for making you ache so badly. Call him crazy or irrational, but he thought it for a split second. Thought of hurting him.

 Javier decides taking care of you was far more important than his anger. 

He walks behind you, 

It felt like a huge joke, like a fuck you. The beautiful scenery of the estate, the birds chirping and the world still spinning, and you're there, hugging your own body while you silently weep ahead of him. 

He doesn't start the car when he gets in. He stares ahead, sick to his stomach at the sound of your cries. His eyes glued to the steering wheel, his peripheral catches you shifting to lean your temple against the window. The car was hot, sitting out in this sun. Hot enough to burn you once your elbow touches a belt buckle but the heat felt trivial. Javier glances at the map, prepared to drive back into New Orleans and extend their weekend, take you away for more days. Allow you to be detached for some more time, this was far too much for you. 

“I want to go home Javi.” You whisper between tears, “It was…dumb of me to look for a family out here.” 

There it was again, your eagerness for a complete family. For someone to see you, understand your pain, he heard you beyond that door. He heard you talk about being left alone, celebrating holidays with only yourself. He heard you begging for sympathy from your own blood from your own family. He heard your voice so small when you begged him to see you as his own child, as his own family. 

Javier panics, he’s so overcome with emotion he isn't sure he has the words to comfort you. He can't get out what he's tried to tell you all weekend. You will always have a family with him, you no longer have to search. But it doesn't come out from his mouth.

Instead, he reaches his hand over to you and between his thumb and his pointer he rubs the earring he gifted you. The earring, the reminder. Without words he tells you, I’ve got you. He watched you the past two days rub the thing as a nervous tick, he sees your brows furrow and your chin quiver once more before you cave and lean your head against his hand. Your cries regulate and calm with each pass of his thumb against the delicate little bee in your ear. Javier watches you with blurred eyes and he remembers meeting you for the first time. He remembers putting bandages on your knees and peeling oranges for you and diving into lakes and biking, and blushing and kissing and leaving. And And And, 

“Andrea, I really, really love you.”

#javier peña #javier peña x ofc #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x you #javier peña smut #ao3 #fanfic #javier peña narcos #javier pena x reader

[vanyzvat]

Anti x Reader

Chapter 1: No Strings Attached

Chapter 2: His Name

Chapter 3: Jacksepticeye

Chapter 4: Chase Brody (You are here!)

Jack STILL exists as a character in this fanfic, even though he is NOT canon anymore. This fanfic follows OLD lore.

Summary: When Reader finally sees Anti again, he has some things he needs to explain... Surely with time, they will all be answered.

(A lot of things are based off personal headcanons and my own interpretation of these characters! Please keep that in mind. I apologize in advance for any errors! Please let me know if there are any so I can fix them.)

About a week has passed since you discovered the mysteries of the Jacksepticeye channel. And, about a week has passed since you lastly saw Anti.

He's never been away for that long. Part of you is starting to worry that you might've been at fault.

Did you push him away by asking too many questions? Did you know too much? Was he afraid of answering the questions you had, or did he just want you to find the answers on your own? Where the fuck was he?

You actually missed his presence. You couldn't help it- He was the only friend you had, of course you wanted to do everything within your power to keep him around.

You never even had a problem with loneliness until he decided to show up. Now, the longer he was away, the more you felt yourself grow mad. So technically, it was his fault.

You were so desperate about his whereabouts that you even bothered checking the IRIS website, trying to find any sort of news about ALTR 114209.

But there was nothing, nothing more than their awful merchandise and propaganda.

Was he okay?

You've been maintaining the same old schedule, the same old routine. But it's different now, because part of your life was suddenly gone. Would you have to deal with going back to being completely alone? Was he never coming back? You didn't want to think about it.

Right now, you were lying in bed, about to sleep yet another day away.

You didn't have much to do anyway. It was just record, edit, upload. Record, edit, upload. Sometimes you didn't even eat, you went straight to bed because it was so exhausting.

You were just... Too stressed to focus on your work, yet you tried working anyway, and it was taking everything out of you.

You were trying to sleep, but you couldn't.

You just couldn't, your thoughts were too loud. You counted in your head, you put on relaxing music, you closed your eyes and didn't move, you shifted into a more comfortable position. All that, over and over again.

But nothing worked.

Maybe it's been hours since you firstly tucked yourself into bed. Maybe it's been only minutes that just felt like hours. Time escaped you, and you were too tired to try reaching out for your phone to check it.

After a while, you finally felt your eyes slowly close on their own and you drifted off to sleep.

Finally, you could rest...

...

That is, until you heard a loud noise coming from somewhere inside your house. You sat up from your lying position within a second, trying to fully regain consciousness.

But you were so fucking tired- If this were a burglar, or just some person looking to cause you harm, you were definitely a goner.

You supposed without Anti, you really were nothing...

You got too confident with having him around.

You slowly shifted out of your bed, and kept yourself close to the wall as you walked to the door of your room. You carefully opened it, barely enough so you could take a peek at whoever was outside.

You catch a glimpse of a figure, the silhouette of a man in the darkness of your house.

Your vision turned to static as you landed your eyes on him, as if you were the lense of a corrupted camera.

It's him. Holy shit, it's him.

Anti. He's back, he didn't abandon you.

You're relieved, but your mind is going foggy. It hurts. And as he slowly turns to look directly into you, as if he knew you were watching him the entire time, your body grows heavy and you fall to the ground.

And with a thud, you've blacked out.

When you wake up, you're back on your bed, blanket covering you. Except now, you can see bloody handprints all over it. Goddammit.

Anyway.

You seem to feel alright now... You haven't been able to rest properly for a while. Maybe seeing Anti finally put your mind at ease, knowing that he actually came back.

You turn your head and see him sitting on the ground besides the bed, his back facing you.

When he hears the bed creak from your movement, his head turns around completely, his neck cracking. Like he was some sort of fucking owl.

“Jesus christ.”

He then actually gets up and turns his body around to match the direction of his head. He's bloody, but you know the blood isn't his... Or maybe it is, some of it.

“S͜oŕr̕y̢, so͞rr͟y...”

“Ju̵s̨t m͟e͘s͢s͏i͢ng a̛ro͏und to͠ ̀li̶ghte̵n th̵e mo͠o͝d̀.”

“You're getting blood everywhere. Now I'll have to change the sheets and mop again.”

He rolled his eyes and sat at the edge of the bed, then let out a sigh.

“Ho͡w a̧r̴e y͠oú f̀ee͡l̷ing? You͞ loo̧ked͘ li͏ke̷ shi̧t͟ w͜hen͏ I saw y̸o͠u.”

“You don't get to say that. You came in here all bloodied, smelling like a rotting corpse.”

“...Ca͠n't͟ a͞rgưe wi͏t̵h̴ t͏hat.”

“I'm fine... I needed that rest- I just feel a little groggy. I was worried about you, actually...”

“H̨o̕w ̨swee͡t òf you̷ t̛o͘ thi̸n̢k̵ about ̷m͝e. Yóú d̷idn't mi͢ss me to̸o m͠úch, di͝d yo͜u͠?”

“I thought you... Wouldn't come back after the things we talked about. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable by asking too much.”

To that, he laughs.

“I ̧nev̕er tru͞l͢y̡ g̢o ąw̕a̶y...”

“Bu̴t dón'͘t͏ w͡orr͟y a͏b̧ou̴t̵ me̛, yóu͞ did͢n't do anything w͝ro̸ng... I̕ sh̶ou̢l͢d b͘e the͟ o̴n͢e say̢in̶g͘ ͏s̕orry f͏o̷r̛ dr͏a͜g͠ģing y̷o͝u in̡t́ơ th̢i͠s͝ m͡e͞ss.”

“It's okay. I want to be involved in your life. You're my friend, and I want to get to know you better.”

“H͡àh... T̀han͟k̕ yoū.”

Friend.

You really considered him your friend.

Despite everything, despite all that you've seen, and all that he's told you. All the times he's dismissed you or pushed you away in the past, all the times he thought nothing of you.

And yet you still kept giving him chances, continued trying to talk to him until he broke. Why? Why, why, why?

“I saw your letter. Did you have enough time to think?”

“There'̴s nev̡e̵r͠ eno̷u͞ģh t̴im̧è t͡o t̵hi̵nk. ͞Bu͞t̷... I'̷ll fi͏gu͞r͝e̸ things out͝.”

...The conversation dies after that.

You want to bring up the things you discovered, but you're not sure if he was ready to talk about that yet. Your dream, Jack, everything. Surprisingly, Anti's the one who breaks the silence this time.

“I̸ kn͏ow y͢ou fǫund ̷ou̕t.”

“...I'm not surprised. What happened to Jack after you slit his- Your throat? He came back as if nothing happened a few years after.”

“T̨h̢at per̴son iśn't Ja͝c͠k- J̢a̢ck͜ is gone. I'̛v͡è h̴i͟d̀d̕en ̧him͞ a̶w͝ay wh͞i̧le I wo̢rk͞ i̴n the ́s͜i͝d͏el̸i̵ne̴s.”

“...What? So who is that?”

“O͢ne ̴of J̡ack͠'͢s̕... "F́rien͏ds". His nāme ís Chase Brod̛y. They looķ ve͠r̛y ̛a̕like, as yòū can tell... Wh̵ic͠h ̧is wh͏y he t̕oo̡k ov̕er̀ th̸at͞ c͢h́a̵nn̕el͘.͏ Ḩe d͞oe͟sn't̀ wan̴t peop̷l̴e to knǫw ͘th͟e ́t̶rut̀h̀.”

“I understand... I think? But, I'm surprised people haven't noticed.”

“Of c̀o̕urs̕e t͟h͟ey ha͡ven't. Ţh̷ey don't ca͜re a̢b̸o͝u̧t̛ J̸ack̛. Ţh̵ey w͡oul͞dn't n̶ơt͟i͝ce i͜f so̶meǫne͟ rep̡la͟ce̡d ͟h͏im͞...”

That's a scary thought...

The conversation dies once again.

It's hard to find the right things to ask, and the right way to ask them. You want to ask about him, about Jack, about Chase.

Before you think, harsh words escape your mouth...

“...You're doing all of this, having gone down a path of no return, for someone who probably wants nothing to do with you?”

He's a bit surprised at your words, maybe even a little offended, but he smiles through his response anyway.

“Who fuckíng ca͠r̡e͞s̡ if I'm ́a l̵i̧ttle ͜"u̧s̷ęd a̸nd̢ ̷ab͢use̴d"? At th́e ver̨y ̷ļeast I ̢c͢an ḩave̛ a l͠itt̛le fun whi͟le I͢'m at ̸i̷t.”

“I care?”

There's silence for a moment. Where is this coming from? Did you think of Anti as that much of a pathetic person that he needed to be validated like this? He's not sure if he should feel appreciative, or angry.

“...Wéll.”

“Tḩere'̡s no̢ n͜e̢ed f́o͢r͞ t͜h̀a̧t, b̸ut th̷àn̴k y͟o͡u agáin anyway.”

“I think you needed it. You could use a friend, and I'm here to fit that role. Hell, I'm glad I chose to talk to you. Even if the way we met wasn't the most pleasant...”

“Y͟oú're be͞i͜ǹg̡ too kin͞d̕.”

“Se͢ri̵ously, stǫp i̵t. I̸t͠'͞s unc̴omf̧o̷rt̢áb̛le̛.”

You chuckle.

“Alright, alright, I'll stop now. Still... I'm sorry about whatever happened between you and Jack.”

Anti shrugged as he looked away, glancing off at a wall. He sinks into himself whenever Jack is brought up in the conversation.

“It̨... I͠t's ͢a ́lo͠ng st̢óry͠. Him a̷nd̕ I ͜ǵo͏ ́w̵a̢y͏ ̡b̀ack. But I'̷d still d̡o an͟y̡t͡h̕in̷g fo͝r ́hi̸m.”

“Even if it's at your own expense?”

“I̷ g̀uess so̵.”

“Bu͟t, I ap̴p͜r͟e̷ci̵at̢e yòu for évery͢thi̡ng y͠ou'̧ve d͝ơn̛e for m̛e. After all you've seen, heard, watched. Y͢o̶u̢'re s̡til͏l͏ here, w͠aiti̸ng fo͏r m̷e ͞t̢o͘ com̷e to you. E̷ven w̕he͡n you don't kn̷ow̧ w͜he͠n I͞'l̨l sho̴w ųp ne̴xt, i͢f at all.”

“When you put it like that... I guess I do depend on your company a bit. I never realized how much I needed someone to be my friend.”

“So, in a way, I guess you've also helped me.”

He smiled.

“But- Please don't leave me waiting for this long again. I was worried something had happened to you.”

“I'̡m s͡o͜rr͢y.”

“Sometímes it is̵n't m͘y c͠h͜oi̵c̢e. If ̧I͏ ̡co͞u̸ld̷, I'́d ͏st̸ay by your side͝ ͠at̡ all tim͜es.”

“You're just saying that.”

“M̴aỳb̴e Í am, mayb̡e I'm n̸o̢t̨... B͞u͢t w̧he͢n̨ I say I ̴ap͝p̢re͝c͜i̕ate̢ you, I̵ définiţely͜ m̷ean it.”

“Yeah, now you're just being nice to me.”

“Wh͏ý wou̧ld̢n'́t I? Y̛ou'̢re al̛w̴ay͞s ńice to ̶m̨e.”

“I don't really have much of a choice, do I? If I wasn't, you would've killed me a long time ago.”

That really would be the case at the beginning of your interactions... Sheesh.

Either way, now, it's more of a lighthearted joke than anything, and he knows that.

“Tou̡c̕h͡é̢... But t͞ha͟t's n̡o̧t̀ a̧ll the̢re is t̡o i̧t̀, is͏ i͟t?”

“Of course not! I'm exaggerating. When all is said and done, I appreciate you, too.”

“Thank you̷, ag̴ain. Yo͟ur ki̢nd woŗd̶s rea̵lly ma͡k͏ę all o͟f th̶iś fee̸l̀ wo̸rth̀w̕h͟ile. Ít ́m̴e͞a͡n͏s so ̧mu͡ch to hav̢e someo͠n̡e lik̵e̢ ̵you to ͏r͟un ͘t͜o.”

“It's nothing, really.”

“Now... Could you please go get yourself cleaned. Why did you show up all bloodied anyway?”

“I̷ was̢... In͜ á hu̧rry̷.”

“Ànd then I cau͞s̴ed̡ you to p͏ass̢ out, a̧n̨d Į ̕want͏ed̀ ţo͟ sta̸y so I çou̧ld́ bé the̵r͞é whe͘n y̕ou̵ ͞w͏oke ưp... In c̨àse y̵ǫu̧ n̷e̢ed͢ed̕ so̶m̢ethi͜ng͏.”

Did he actually feel guilty over that? Or was he just saying so because he felt like he should?

“...You wanted to keep me company?”

“I͞ woul͠d͝ ̢ra͝t̸h̷er cut m͏y͠ he͝ad͞ ̶òf͞f ̷tha͏n̨ ādmit that.”

“It's okay... You basically already did, anyway.”

And with that, Anti headed into your bathroom to get himself cleaned up. You weren't sure if your shower would still be white after he was done, but he needed it, so... It was a sacrifice you were willing to make.

#antisepticeye/reader #jse anti #antisepticeye x reader #jacksepticegos #jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye egos #jse fandom #jse #antisepticeye

[mygalaxypoetry]

Sagau with creator but... Pt.4

You stood up from your attack and looked at the damage you made. The usual drops from the Ruin Guard was evident, but what stood out to you was the four, three, and two star drops that were evident.

The only one star that was there was a black key... weird..

Razor immediately came beside you, looking panicked , and check your hand for any injuries. You assured him that you were fine multiple times, since he looked like he was gonna cry.

"Hey! Can you guys help me? I'm kinda stuck!" A voice shouted at them.

You and Razor looked around to find the source of the sound and saw Bennett, trapped inside one of the ruin gates. Poor kid...

You two immediately went up to him and asked what happened and thanks to his very bad luck, he got locked in while getting a chest.

Razor sighed in irritation while you pulled out the black key and unlocked the iron gate, successfully letting Bennett out of the trap.

"I saw you how you dealt with that Ruin guard. It was awesome! Oh, where are my manners? My names Bennett, a member of Benny's adventure team!" He greeted you.

"The names [Name] [L/n], nice to meet you Bennett!" You stuck out your hand for him to shake.

"Likewise [Name]!" He shook your hand.

In almost an instant, it felt like something warm entered your body. Not to the point where your on fire, thankfully (like the creator can even get hurt), but enough for you to notice.

Your hands started to burn up a bit, in which Bennett let go of your hand quickly.

"Ow! Ow, that's hot..." he mumbled.

"Sorry! Sorry, are you hurt?"

"I'm fine! My hand just felt a little hot when I held your hand.." he assured you, but it left you confuse.

You looked at your hand and tried to do that again, in which your hand started to glow yellow and released an explosion.

. . .

'What the fu-'

"New power unlocked: explosion!"

Okay... NOW you want to go inside Mondstat...

Razor, the poor baby, sulked a bit when he already had two pyro extroverts as his friends.

Bennett on the other hand was amazed about how you did that. Asking questions on why you didn't do it in the first place and how you got it.

You, confused af, didn't know how to answer that question!

"Wait a minute.... you feel awfully familiar.... you kinda remind me of someone..."

It only took a minute for him to realize that, you're the creator! One of, if not the almighty ruler of Teyvat. He started bowing and giving thank yous for making him join your adventure team.

Now you were REALLY confused. Brain shortcurciting and almost passed out on floor, if Razor didn't catch you on time.

Razor led you to the foot of the Monstat bridge, Bennett apologizing as they go. He didn't mean to overwhelm you with too much information and questions.

"Honestly, I don't know myself... I just got this power when I shook your hand..." that was all you know.

You three strolled up to Mondstat, your mush of a brain not minding the shocked looks the people were giving you.

All you wanted was to go in an inn and rest. Maybe have some of Barbara's healing magic on the side.

Razor led you straight to the cathedral, seeing how you were exhausted and probably injured.

He called out to Barbara, who thought Bennett had another accident and needed her assistance again.

That thought was completely thrown out the window when she saw you in Razor's arms, looking a bit pale.

She rushed you to a rest room where you laid down on a bed and drifted of to dreamland, completely leaving Barbara to heal your wounds.

----

You had a long day, you deserved it!

#genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #creator au #sagau #self aware genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #gender neutral character #my hero academia #bnha #genshin impact x gender neutral reader

[throneofsapphics]

💖 May I drop a super angst Aelin x reader/ Rowaelin x reader brainstorm here? Like no happy endings, just pain, toxicity, and sadness?

Just for reading; I just wanted to share this idea with the best Rowaelin writer I know 💖 (it's quite long, sorry 🥲)

So:

Aelin and Y/N have known each other since before the fall of Terrasen (readers' family were very well known faes and close to the royal family). Everybody knew that they were childhood crushes and thought that it would blossom into something more once they grew up.

But Adarlan invaded, and Aelin turned into Celaena, and Y/N stayed with Aedion, turning into a rebel and Aedion's right hand. She truly believed Aelin was alive and never stopped looking for her.

When she finally gets to reencounter Aelin (at QoS era), she gets excited and overwhelmed by the feelings towards her, but she sees Aelin with Rowan, and that completely wrecks her heart, but she won't show it, chosing to help Aelin with everything and anything that needs and asks to her, so she can stay by Aelin's side in some way.

On Aelin's POV, her reencounter with Y/N awakens her old feelings for Y/N, and it gets stronger, because since everyone is living at Aelin's apartment, that leeds to happen a lot of romantic tesion between them, leaving Aelin torn and Y/N hurt.

Rowan knows all about Y/N because Aelin told him about her back in Doranalle and how sometimes Y/N crossed her mind whenever she saw/heard something she might have liked.

But of course, he feels quite uncomfortable, seeing how natural they were together, leading to a troubled acquaintance between Y/N and Rowan, since the only thing they agree on, is to protect Aelin at all costs.

The thing is: Rowan and Y/N work like a 'perfect' duo at training and battles (maybe even leading to that kind of aggressive sexual tension that enemies to lovers have).

As the Canon story goes on, it gets messier and toxic even, because Y/N drifts between them, and she hates it because this long heartbreak is killing her and they have a lot in their plates, so she tries to step aside. Unsuccessfully.

Because Aelin and Rowan pull her back: by putting her at front lines next to them at battles, straight down using her as emotional support and completely thriving by the 'it's a messy and horrible situationship, but I can't stay away from you' vibes.

When Y/N and Rowan go to save Aelin from Maeve, moved by the "protect and save that women that we both love" force, Y/N finally feels drained by everything and decides that she can't live that way, so, once everything is said and done she would leave them and Terrasen.

At the 'Caravan towards Orynth' KoA era, Rowaelin discovers that she wants to leave and confronts her about it, and she's like, "Look at this mess! I'm not anyone's mate, and I can't control my feelings anymore! I thought I would be okay by staying at your side, but I'm not. It's tiring and unfair to all of us."

Rowaelin is well aware of that, leading to a terrible argument that shows how toxic this is and how this is not romantic or love, but straight down possessiveness. But Rowaelin is adamant in wanting her, breaking Y/N mind and heart in every way possible.

After the final battle, Y/N disappears. Rowaelin doesn't know if she's alive or dead because the last time they saw her, she was very beaten up. They go on reconstructing Terrasen and looking for her (since they're obsessed with her), and she becomes like a living ghost to them: no one can't talk ill about her or tell them to give up on looking for her.

Kinda like the vibes of 'You can't catch me now' by Olivia Rodrigo chorus, she "haunts" them in every tree, every breeze, her footprints of her life with them surrounding the castle (little trinkets and belongings that stayed behind and they keep it like its sacred). They always think they're close, but they never find her.

All awhile Y/N is somewhere, heartbroken, and with ptsd, maybe even losing her mind of who she is, like thinking she's just a civilian from somewhere else, because her brain is tired and wants to forget everything about her old life.

No happy endings, just pain, toxicity, and sadness.

That's it. I just wanted to share it! Thank you for pulling up with me and reading this, You are an amazing writer, and I hope you have a lovely week 💖💖

absolutely you can, I'd love to hear any brainstorms!!

this destroyed me. the drawn out heart-break and slowly realizing it's never going to work and Rowan & Aelin holding on to every crumb they can. the idea of her losing her mind is really interesting! of her brain inventing a different person as a coping mechanism (I think I've actually read a dark romance book or series with a similar concept, I'll have to find it).

I could imagine them finding her and she has no idea who they are, and the cycle repeats - with them trying to bring back her memories, getting more and more desperate

if you write a longer version of this please tag me!

also you're SO kind thank you! & I hope you have a great week too <3

[thescarletwitchsapprentice]

Imagine: The Queen didn’t expect that you’d react like this when she took you captive as her beloved. (Yandere!Dark?Queen!Wanda Maximoff/Yandere!Dark?Queen!Scarlet Witch x female!lesbian!simp!reader)

*Not my GIF.

(CW: Slight sexual content, but nothing explicit except tongues in mouths likely badly written, reader is (once again) down bad for powerful women, reader is (once again) a hopeless lesbian simp, but this time it’s to the point that she’s willing to become a ghost for her, praise, sensual touch, maybe some innuendos)

Author’s Note: Not surprisingly the last simping imagine got some good reception, so here’s one of her in her queen!persona. So now you can royally simp for her, you thirsty lesbians.

How does a vampire!wanda version of this sound to you?

No one ever dares to think to deny Queen Maximoff her happiness. It’s not that people fear her--at least not all of the time--but she knows what she wants. Or in this case who she wants.

And now she has who she wants.

“Oh, she’s so lovely,” she sighs as she strokes the side of your face, waiting for the moment you two make eye contact. “She’ll make a beautiful queen for me.”

She sets up a lovely dress and crown to give you, perhaps they may soothe your nerves when you awaken. Speaking of....

You begin to stir in Queen Maximoff’s bed. Her smile becomes loving, but also a bit unhinged.

You open your eyes. Queen Maximoff is right next to you. 

“Welcome home, my beloved,” she sighs amorously. 

Your head shoots to look at her and your eyes widen.

“Please don’t be afraid,” she tells you. “I have some courting gifts for you, my sweet.”

“Courting?!” you gasp. “Like.....prepping for marriage?”

“Yes, indeed,” she nods as she pets your head. “I’ve waited for this moment for ages, and now I have you. You’re all mine.....Now as I said, please don’t be afraid.”

But to her surprise, a smile forms on your face.

“Afraid? Afraid?” you laugh. “Why would I be afraid? This is the best day of my entire life!”

The Queen blinks in surprise.

“Queen Maximommy wants to marry me?! A lowly peasant, *cough, cough* who wants you to sit and step on her *cough, cough* from the poorest part of the kingdom?”

You shoot up and pants excitedly like a dog.

“I can be your little baby. Your puppy. Kitty. Hell, I’ll even be furniture! You need a new throne? Maybe a rug? I could hold up a mirror!”

The queen is in disbelief, but it quickly becomes anger.

“Is....is this some sort of mockery?!” she stammers with a look of fury in her eyes, making you stop and whimper excitedly.

“Your momjesty, h-have I been naughty?” you ask innocently. “Are you gonna put me in a fear projection?”

She grabs you by the collar of your potato sack shirt and tilts her head.

“I don’t enjoy being mocked.” The accent is deep in her voice making you moan a bit. “Do you think this is funny?!”

“No!” you exclaim. “I’m dead serious about this, your momjesty! I’ve been hoping and waiting for you to take me. I don’t care if it’s as a consort, a knight, a guard, a lady-in-waiting, hell even as a prisoner in the dungeon. I just want to be close to you in some way. I’m completely yours. You could evict me from my house and I’d cry tears of joy. You could break my spine a thousand times over and I’d ask if you were okay. You could literally execute me and my ghost would worship you a thousand times over.....I’m not joking, Queen Maximommy. Not even a little. I’m down 

bad 

for powerful women and I have no shame in admitting it. Absolutely none.”

The queen is in absolute shock. There’s not even a hint of a lie in your eyes.

“I’m absolutely serious, your momjesty,” you insist. “Literally just sit on me, break my back, put me under the blade of a guillotine, and I’d be in tears of joy....in more places than one, if you catch my drift.” (dear god why did i write that?)

Hearing this the queen blushes and chuckles.

“Oh.....oh my....this is quite unprecedented. I truly thought you’d be afraid of me.”

Plucking up more courage, you cup her face.

“Mommy,” you whisper with a straight face, (which is the only straight thing about you and we all know it) looking her dead in the eyes. “If I am ever afraid of you, please know that I am also absolutely turned on at the same time.”

Before you know it, you pull her into a kiss. Your tongue makes its way into her mouth and you feel hers inside of your mouth. (Is....is this how it works?) The two tongues have a sword fight of passion (Please tell me, is this how it works? Is this what people call frenching?) before you pull back. You and the queen are both blushing vibrantly as the two of you fully realize what just happened. (unlike the author who has never been in a relationship, let alone fully kissed someone on the lips, in her entire life)

“I....I’ve never had someone kiss me like that before,” Wanda giggles shyly after a few moments of silence.

“I never thought.....that I’d have the courage to kiss anyone like that before, let alone the queen,” you admit.

You two are blushing like schoolgirls in an anime, occasionally playing footsie. Is it childish? Maybe, but you’re with the woman you’ve been obsessed with for years. And all this time, she’s been obsessed with you. What could be better than this?

“Come,” Wanda says, sliding over to the other side of the bed. “What’s say we have some cuddles and watch sitcoms? Then we’ll plan our wedding.”

“Does that include the night after?” You wink at her. “Because I’ve got kind of a thing for petting and praise.”

She blushes again.

“We’ll get to that,” she says. “.....my good girl.”

Your heart practically stops when you hear those last three words. They echo deep into your mind. You sigh ecstatically and pretend to faint onto the bed and into her arms. Soon you feel her twirl your hair in her fingers and you have the biggest smile on your face.

“I’ll be your good girl forever,” you say sweetly as you two fall asleep in each other’s arms. “Forever and ever.”

Wanda giggles before giving you a peck on the cheek.

“I know you will, baby girl.....

“I know you will....”

#you thirsty lesbian simps.....have some more content #you're welcome #yandere wanda maximoff x fem!reader #yandere wanda maximoff #queen!wanda maximoff #queen wanda maximoff #queen maximoff #lesbian simp reader #wanda maximoff #yandere avengers #yandere marvel #Avengers #marvel

[theguidetocryptids]

Just to preface this post, this was a comm for a member of the Sky:COTL server that I’m in (SORA.) These are not my characters! They belong to Ahmyo in the SORA Discord.

——————————————————

It was my mistake.

I had strayed a little bit too far off my usual route for the winged lights in the area and the krill had spotted me out in the open. I knew that it would hurt, but being able to take solace that it was, at least, my own mistake, would help with the sting. I still scrambled to try and make it to cover, but the creature of darkness roared before I was safe—charged—

But not at me.

Someone had swept in at the last second, like it was a scene straight out of one of the spirit’s fairy tales. The krill had completely forgotten about me, given an easier target. I barely even had time to stand before it was charging down at the other poor soul, but they were more aware of their surroundings. I could see them dive down behind a rock at the last second, the krill catching only dark water and mud.

I had to stay put for a minute just to wait for the creature of dark to finally leave, but when it did, I was immediately at the side of my “savior.” I said the only thing that came to mind:

“That was incredibly stupid.”

————————————————

“I don’t exactly feel like that was the stupidest thing ever, y’know? Like, okay. Maybe it’s a little up there, but definitely not even in my top ten. Besides! You’re safe. I didn’t lose any light. Everybody’s happy!”

I was quickly finding out that Eckto, as he’d introduced himself, had a much brighter view of the world than me. Where I saw someone trying to save a stranger from the inconvenience of being krilled, he saw a heroic act of someone trying to be helpful. I wasn’t exactly inclined to agree, considering that he was only a few inches away from hurting himself.

“Well! Whatever. Where are we going next?” He asked, stepping in front of my path.

The wind howled around the wasteland, whistling gently through the masses of pipes that lead towards the only structure for miles around—the Elder’s temple. Where else in the world we could be heading towards, I wasn’t sure. “Nowhere.”

Stepping around him, it didn’t seem that Eckto was going to be so easily deterred. He tailed me for a few minutes, even in the oppressive silence of the Golden Wasteland. I thought that eventually he would get bored and wander off, but . . . that clearly wasn’t happening.

“I’m heading towards the vault.” I offered, slowing down at the top of a dune. My finger pointed towards the tower that lay just beyond the temple, and slowly drifted towards the angry red glow on the horizon. “And I’ll be heading to Eden after that.”

“Oh.” He sounded nearly deflated, as if he’d expected something a bit more relaxing and involving a few less krill and boulders, but it would apparently take more than even that to put a dent in his mood. “Okay, yeah! I need to revisit the Heart anyway. Not like anything bad could really come of swinging by.”

A pause.

“Well, you’ll die.”

“I’ll get over it, I’m sure.” He said, nodding as if this was an uncertainty that he was completely confident in nonetheless. He seemed rather proud of himself as he said, “I’ve gotten quite good at dealing with the whole dodging flying rocks, if I do say so myself. And it’s not like they hurt that bad, honestly.”

“You’re ridiculous.” I said, shaking my head.

“I like to call it, ‘happily oblivious’.”

We continued the trek towards the vault at that point, but the silence didn’t last nearly as long that time. “My name’s Xernae. I don’t believe I’d told you.”

“You hadn’t,” Eckto assured me, “but it wouldn’t have mattered if you never did. I’m quite good at nicknames.”

“And what would mine be?”

I think that was the only time he’d ever seemed stumped by something I’d asked. He started to say something, but closed his mouth with a small “hmm.” “Gimme a few minutes,” he promised. “I’ll think of something! Just . . . not right now, y’know. I need time for the process and all that.”

I was smiling under the mask, but I’d never admit that.

————————————————

“The archives are a lot shinier than I remember.”

I was busy lighting the central platform, having already taken care of the few lanterns strewn about the ground level, but his comment was enough to distract me. “A lot . . . shinier?” I echoed. “How?”

“Well, I appreciate all the spirit mantas and everything, but it’s really been . . . quite a while since I’ve been here. I thought it was more dusty and bookish and everything, but this is more, just . . . nice. Does it get much different from this?”

“You’re going to enjoy the rest of this.” I didn’t exactly give Eckto much time to respond before the central lantern was lit, the platform coming to life with a hum. He seemed to remember something of this part, as he didn’t seem particularly impressed, but the moment that stars started to wink into existence around us was a different story.

“Oh. Wow. I . . . can’t believe I forgot about these,” he murmured, reaching out to cup one of the floating lights. “I must’ve been excited about finally getting close to Eden, before I realized what it was like. That or I really wanted to get away from the krill.”

“I find it hard to believe you were ever scared of them.” He laughed a bit, but there was clearly more to the story than a one-off joke. Fidgeting a bit, I knew we had a bit more time before the elevator would ascend to the second level—it really was painfully slow whenever first reactivated—and there was certainly nothing better to do. “What was your first experience with them like?”

Eckto was quiet for long enough that I figured he wasn’t going to respond, but eventually he seemed to find the words. “I know a lot of moths usually get adopted by a veteran, or at least have another moth that they latch onto as they figure stuff out, but that . . . didn’t really happen for me. Not for any reason in particular, I think, just bad timing and luck as far as everyone I met went. For the Golden Wastes in particular, I had to go it alone.” There wasn’t a sad tone to his voice, but nevertheless, I still got the feeling that it wasn’t exactly a pleasant feeling. Comforting others wasn’t something I dealt with regularly, but I felt for him as he continued.

“You can imagine what happened whenever I encountered the krill for the first time. I’d seen the crabs before, but the krill were . . . much more vicious. I think I must’ve lost twenty winged light before I finally made it past the last gate, and that doesn’t include what I lost to my light going out in the dark water.”

“I’m sorry.” I said. I really was.

“Meh. It wasn’t as traumatizing as I’m making it out to be, I feel, but it certainly sucked for a few days after that. I actually usually spend most of my time in the Wastes because of that, in case there’s any moths that need help.” Eckto stood up and stretched, having returned the small star to the pool that accrued around the elevator as we rose.

“I’m not a moth.”

“No, but you did need help. That was good enough for me.”

I supposed that was good enough for me, too.

————————————————

Eden was an eternal storm.

The crystals sucked the light out of your body, the rocks rained down endlessly, the winds whipped around you like a hurricane. Not to mention the krill and the crabs, which only made an uninviting place even more inhospitable.

I took the lead, but Eckto followed not too far behind, tailing me whenever I bolted for the next safe spot. He didn’t seem entirely comfortable with Eden, but he certainly managed the hazards well enough.

Better than me, for certain. For as confident as I was in timing the period between rockfalls, I failed to notice when a stray shard broke away from the main flow, the stone smashing into my face like nature’s worst gift.

My light was snuffed out unceremoniously, but Eckto was there with a flame before I’d even picked myself up off the ground. “I think I might call you Stoneface. It fits your whole strong, silent type deal.”

“I talk a good bit. And I prefer Xernae.”

“You really don’t.” He insisted, helping me to my feet even as the boulders rushed around us. “But Xernae it is.”

I expected a bit more trouble from the patrolling krill, but luck seemed to be on our side after that. Thunder and lightning boomed and flashed in the clouds above us, but before long we were sheltered in the cave right before the point of no return. The Heart was simply too disruptive for us to return home, past that particular bend in the cave. “Not much further now,” I said, as we collected the last few children of light.

“Not at all,” he agreed, “but I’m rather excited to see all the elders again whenever we’re in orbit. It’s been a while since I’ve talked with them.”

Somehow, it seemed perfectly normal that Eckto was on a talking basis with all of the elders. I knew them, sure, but I’d never gone out of my way to bother them. He probably didn’t consider it “bothering,” if I had to guess.

The rest was something of a blur. It was rocks, and darkness, and the division of our own light, but beyond that my memory fails me. Probably due to the sheer amount of rocks that you’re pelted with towards the end, but I never really try to remember them anyway. All that I care about and recall is the Heart itself, and giving the little bit of light to it that I can.

This time, I did end up remembering something else. Towards the end, I hadn’t navigated the storm as well as I should have. I was low on winged light, and in no position to reach the Heart as it was. I was rather resigned to my fate—I would just have to do better next time—but Eckto wasn’t content with that.

The memory’s fuzzy, as they usually are, but I know that he helped me reach the Heart, despite the fact he could have gone on without me.

That was the last thing to see, before the world went black.

————————————————

Home, again.

It was always more serene whenever I had just been reborn. Everything seemed brighter, fresher. The waves seemed gentler, the birds more lively, the candles a bit warmer.

Normally, I was alone. Being serious hardly nets you many friends, as it is, but this time was different.

As soon as Eckto opened his eyes, I sighed heavily.

“I think you were right about the krill thing not being the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.” I said, him looking over at me with interest. I smiled, openly this time, tilting the mask up. “Because that absolutely takes the cake.”

“Oh, come on! I was just helping!”

“We’re basically immortal. There’s always next time.”

We bickered back and forth like that for a while, but honestly, I appreciated the gesture. I hope he knew that.

Well, he wouldn’t know unless I told him, and I already knew there would be plenty of time to prepare myself for his no-doubt over the top response. So, I just enjoyed the moment.

Peacefully, and with a friend.

#creative writing #my writing #fiction #short story #fandom #writers on tumblr #sky cotl #sky cotl lore #sky fanfic #skyfic #first person pov

[nicknellie]

I like to imagine that when Luke came out to the boys through My Name Is Luke, that inspired Alex to do two things: come out to the boys himself, and do it through music. But where Luke poured his heart and soul into every word of that song, Alex did a drumroll for far too long, whacked the cymbal, and said “I like dudes” in the most monotone voice with a completely straight face the whole time

#okay maybe not ‘completely straight’ but you catch my drift #there was still a lot of debate about whose coming out was more dramatic #jatp #luke patterson #reggie peters #alex mercer #julie and the phantoms #bobby jatp #sunset curve #julie and the himbos #jatp hc #jatp headcanons #headcanons #i dont play drums so i probably got the terminology wrong but you know what i was going for #also he thought long and hard about the whole thing #like he sat down in his room and was like hmmm how can i do this in the best way possible #five hours later that popped into his head and he was like Yes.

[f1nalboys]

Okay, okay! So I love your poly!Ghostface dark/angst, but I wanna see you do some poly!Ghostface dark/fluff too(if that's a thing?)! Still unhealthy/toxic relationship, but one where their feelings are at least actually true and genuine. Trio vs the World shit. Best Friends to Lovers blah blah blah cause you know Im a slut for that lmao. NSFW too if you're willing 👀

AHH so glad I finally got to this request I'm sorry it took me so long :(( HOWEVER i had fun writing it!! i really hope you enjoy (ps, no smut unfortunately i tried to add it and it was coming out wrong ahhh) flashbacks are italicized! 

WORD COUNT: 2352

WARNINGS: toxic relationship, kinda cute moments between the three of you, cursing, little bit of stalking, threats of violence, no nsfw because i was a little lazy sorry :,(

Had someone told you five years ago that you'd be dating not only Billy Loomis but Stu Macher as well, you’d have laughed straight in their face. And yet here you were, curled up on the couch between the two, your legs thrown over Billys and your head resting on Stu’s shoulder, watching a horror movie. You smile softly as you feel Billy’s hand grip your thigh slightly. He never seemed to realize he was doing it which made it even cuter.

“Remember the day I met you guys?” You question, head moving off of Stu’s shoulder when he turns to look at you. He gives you a goofy grin and nods, kissing the tip of your nose. “Sure, baby. Why?”

“Did you think we would have gotten together? Like, back then?”

“Definitely,” Billy says, poking his finger into your side. You raise an eyebrow at him, catching his hand and holding it in your lap. He sighs, grinning slightly. “Alright, maybe not the day we met, but I knew pretty soon. Why? What’s got you thinking about it?”

You shrug, not really sure yourself. Something about the situation you three were in at the moment made your mind drift to those few awful god damn weeks. “You two really sucked then, you know? Honestly, I’m surprised I didn't kill you both.”

Stu gasps, throwing himself back with a hand on his heart. You roll your eyes; ever the dramatic. “You would have hurt us? I can’t believe this… the betrayal!” You elbow him and he sits back up, laughing, and wraps his arms around you, planting a few sloppy kisses onto your neck.

“We weren’t even that bad, babe.” Billy says, eyes widening as you glare at him.

“Not that bad? Do I need to remind you of the first thing you said to me when we met?” You shoot back, sitting up closer to Stu. You had already forgiven the two for how they acted then, but that doesn’t mean you can’t give them a hard time.

The first day you met Billy and Stu, it had started out good. You still didn’t have many friends but that was perfectly okay with you. You were sat in the grass outside one of the buildings where your next class was held, waiting. Thirty more minutes and you got to go to math; yay. You were leaned up against a tree, headphones in, trying to relax, when two men stood in front of you. They were pretty cute. One was tall, wearing a thin sweater and a goofy grin, while the other was shorter with dark hair and a smirk. The tall one's mouth moves and you pull your earbuds out, about to apologize for not hearing him, when the shorter one speaks.

“Pretty stupid to wait for someone to talk to you before taking your headphones out.” His smile was still there but it was clearly masking his annoyance. Your eyebrows raise in surprise at the gall of this dude. You don’t even know him and he thinks he’s owed a conversation?

“Excuse me?”

“What? You’re deaf and a bitch?” The taller one slaps the back of his head immediately and he grumbles, rubbing the soreness. You scoff, shaking your head, fuming. Was it just this dude or were most people here dicks? You didn't want to find out.

You stand, grabbing your bag and pushing past the two, heading towards the building. Your eyes instantly roll into the back of your head when you hear the sound of footsteps behind you. “Hey, I’m sorry about him, really. That’s how he jokes and sometimes it comes across as mean. I’m Stu and he’s Billy.”

Stopping in your tracks you turn to face Stu, the taller one, and take a second to think of a response. Glancing over at Billy, who had finally caught up with you, you can see what resembles regret on his features. “Well, he didn’t come across as mean, he came across as an asshole.”

Stu laughs, nodding. Billy shrugs, giving you that same weak smile he had shown when he approached. You shrug your backpack up higher onto your shoulder, the weight of it starting to get to you, when Billy grabs ahold of it and yanks it off of you. “What the hell? Give me my shit back!”

“Least I can do is to carry it for you. You going to class?” He asks. It’s like he wasn’t taking no for an answer. You give a large sigh and nod, silently thankful for the weight off your shoulders. “Which building?”

“Sycamore.” He nods and begins to walk there, you and Stu trailing behind him. “Is he always so...?” You ask Stu under your breath, trailing off, unsure of a word that could describe the man. He grins and nods. “Annoying? Mean? Stubborn? Yes, yes, and yes.”

Billy groans at the memory, annoyed. He hated when you brought that up. “I told you I was just having an off day! Come on, you’re acting like Stu didn’t offend you too! Do you not remember when you got food with us, like, that night?” Stu punches Billy in the shoulder hard, pissed that he had brought it up.

“Oh yeah! I kinda forgot about how much of a dickhead Stu was,” You say, leaning back against the couch. It really was a shock your relationship with the boys got to where it was now.

Billy and Stu followed you around all day. It seemed they were trying to apologize for Billy’s attitude earlier but, if you were being honest, it was kind of unnerving. After your math class, where they had walked you inside the building and only left when the professor came in, you saw them waiting outside under the tree you had been at.

“Can you guys stop following me?” You had told them the third time you noticed them, this time at the small diner you stopped by after your last class. Stu’s face turned red and he looked behind him as if there was someone else you could be talking about. “Yeah, you two.”

“We wanted to apologize for earlier,” Billy said, motioning for you to join them at their table. You had to choose which one to sit next too and, after your not-so-pleasant meeting with Billy that morning, you sat next to Stu. He sticks his tongue out at Billy who rolls his eyes.

“You already apologized. It’s getting kind of creepy.” You say, placing your elbow on the table. Before the boys could respond, the waitress walks over, placing down their drinks. She flashes you a smile and takes your order, walking off with a sway in her hips, much to the boy's enjoyment.

Stu throws an arm over your shoulder and you shrug him off, ignoring the pained look he gives you. “We just wanted to make sure you really knew we were sorry! Billy here never acts right around a hottie,”

“Stu you fucking idiot.” Billy spits, throwing something at him. Stu laughs, holding his hands up in mock surrender. Billy looks at you and gives you what looks like a real, genuine smile. “Sorry about him; he can’t seem to think with his upstairs brain.”

“Don’t need to when my downstairs one leads me to be sitting next to a smoke show,” Stu says, holding his hand out to you for a high five. Your face flushes and you ignore him, scooting away from him slightly. He was cute, sure, but way too forward. “What? Can’t compliment people anymore?”

“Not when your compliments are preceded by stalking.” You mutter, a part of you hoping he doesn’t hear it. Unfortunately, he does. You see his face change in your peripheral vision and your eyes flick over to Billy. He grins at you, sitting back in the booth, and taking a sip from his drink. He was enjoying this.

“Stalking? You’re fucking with me, right?” His rant is cut short by the return of the waitress who hands you your drink and places the food the boys had ordered onto the table, completely oblivious to your discomfort. She leaves and Stu grabs a fry from his plate, chewing loudly. “We’re not fucking stalking you - trust me, there are better ways to spend our time.”

Billy throws his balled up straw wrapper at Stu, catching his attention, and you let out a soft sigh of relief when Stu’s demeanor changes. He was back to smiling and laughing as if he hadn’t just been attempting to tear you to shreds. “Sorry about that… I’m pretty tired, that’s all.” Stu says, playing with his fingers.

“S’okay, I guess.”

“Why don’t you let us take you on a date? You know, as an apology?” Billy chimes in and Stu grins, nodding. A large part of yourself was screaming no. There was something off about these boys, something dark just under the surface, but you were intrigued. And so you smile.

“Yeah, I guess you two can do that.”

Billy had his arms wrapped around you, laughing at the excuses Stu was stammering out. He was obviously getting frustrated at the memory and you opened your arms to let him join in on the cuddling.

“You know, I really am glad we stuck together. I don’t know what I’d do if it were for our nightly cuddle sessions,” You say, your words muffled by Stu’s sweater. He pulls back and gives you a kiss, Billy swooping in to take one from him as well.

“Yeah, I don’t know what I’d do without our fuck sessions,” Stu hums and you groan, punching him in the shoulder. What a way to ruin the moment. “Wait, let’s not act like you were a saint in all of this! I remember you being pretty awful at one point.”

“What?! No way!”

Billy nods, tickling your sides for a second. “Sure were, babe.”

Two months into the relationship was your breaking point. You really did like, if not love, the boys and yet you were still an outsider. Walking into the shared apartment just for their whispered conversations to stop. Late nights spent in the living room with hushed voices while you tried to sleep. You felt as though you only knew a portion of the two people you had come to like; no, love.

You admit it was petty. It wasn’t the right thing to do in any circumstance, but you did it because you knew it would get a reaction. You had packed a bag and sat in the living room. You wanted them to see you leave. Wanted them to see how much their secrecy had taken. You had been together only a short while and yet you felt so at home with them that the idea of actually leaving, of breaking it off, nearly tore you apart.

The door opens and in enters Billy and Stu, wrapped up in their own conversation. Stu waves at you, carrying on before realizing what he had just seen. “Babe? What are you doing?”

“I’m leaving.” Your voice was confident, not a waver in sight, and you knew it was because you weren’t planning on leaving. Some would call it manipulation, sure, but you were backed into a corner. Stu’s mouth drops open and Billy stares at you, his eyes narrowed.

“What? What do you mean you’re leaving? What’s wrong? Did something happen?” Stu rushes to sit down next to you on the couch, not wanting to accept the idea that you were leaving them on your own volition. His arms wrap around yours and you shove him off. “Babe?”

You shake your head, standing from your spot on the couch, grabbing ahold of the bag. Billy was still standing near the door, his arms crossed, watching you. “Don’t call me that. The two of you… It’s like I’m not even in this relationship. I’m an outsider with the two people I love and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.”

“Where the hell is this coming from?” Billy questions, grabbing ahold of your arm when you try to walk past him. His voice is thick and you could see the vein in his forehead throbbing. He was angry and you hate to admit it but that’s exactly what you were hoping for.

For the next two hours the three of you talk about your relationship and the future of it. Stu cried, you cried, Billy sniffled a few times, and then you came to an agreement. No more secrets. They told you things that they hadn't told anyone before that they hid behind a vague threat of ‘once you hear this you’re stuck with us,’ and you told them things you had planned on taking to your grave. To say you weren’t shocked at what they told you would be a lie.

Murder wasn’t what you thought they were capable of and especially not murder so gruesome. But, oddly, you felt better about being with them. They trusted you, loved you, enough to let you know their biggest and darkest secret. And you loved it.

Knowing they wouldn’t hesitate to kill for you was a major turn on, which they soon found out.

“Wow, I really was kind of horrible, wasn’t I.” You mutter as Billy recounts the memory with a few interruptions by Stu. You didn’t remember it that way but the more they talked the more you could tell they were being honest. “Well, good thing we stuck together, hm? Would have been pretty bad if we hadn’t.”

“Yeah because we would have killed you,” Billy whispers into your ear and you shiver. He’s telling the truth and that’s what makes the relationship the way it is; they choose to be with you, to keep you around, to love you. “Yeah, we would have given you a call a while ago,” Stu says, his finger making a slicing motion across your neck.

You roll your eyes not because you don’t believe them but because you do. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#s1mping4slashers masterlist #s1mping4slashers works #s1mping4slashers answers #s1mping4slashers writing #billy loomis #stu macher #scream #scream 1996 #billy x stu x reader #billy x stu #poly!ghostface x reader #poly!ghostface #slasher #slasher x reader #slasher headcanons #slasher x you #slasher x y/n #slasher fic #slasher imagines #billy loomis x stu macher x reader #reader insert

[scuttling]

Lean on Me

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Gender Neutral Reader Word Count: 4,717 Tags: SFW, Fluff, 5+1 Trope, Obliviousness, Mutual pining, Aaron Hotchner deserves good things, Canon typical injury Summary: Five times you want to kiss the frown off of your boss's face, and one time you actually do it. *Requested by Anon. Link to AO3 or read below! “It doesn’t make sense.”

You stick a tack in a photo of a murdered woman—unfortunately one of many you’ve stuck to this board—and turn to face Hotch, who is looking over your handiwork with a quizzical expression.

“What doesn’t?” He takes a few steps closer, crosses his arms in front of him.

“Why would the unsub leave his comfort zone? The first six abductions occurred within five miles of the college, so why did the seventh and eighth happen almost twelve miles away?” He reaches for the board, traces his finger along the circle Reid had colored in on the map. “We profiled that he’s disorganized and far from confident, so why would he do that?”

He looks over at you, frowns, and not for the first time your gaze is drawn to the little crease between his eyebrows that always forms when he is puzzled, worried, confused, stressed, or otherwise unhappy. In short, it’s there kind of all of the time.

For the first time, though, you think of how easy it would be to lean over, press your lips there, smooth it out, and maybe even get him to smile for a change. He has a great smile, when he lets people see it.

You shake the daydream, rewind back to the question he asked, and wrinkle your nose in thought.

“Maybe his circumstances changed? It's summer now, and there are still classes, but students aren’t living in the dorms. Maybe he moved back home or got an apartment off campus that’s within that area—or a job.” He sighs, runs a hand over the back of his head, nods.

“I don’t know why I didn’t think of that. That’s good. I’ll mention it to the others.” He pulls out his phone, and you grab another photo, another thumbtack, but something stops you and you lay a gentle hand on his arm.

“You don’t have to think of everything, you know. That’s why you have us.” He exhales, his shoulders losing a little of their tension, and that forehead wrinkle gets a little less deep.

“Sometimes I forget that not everything needs to be done the hard way. Or by me.”

“What? You, Aaron Hotchner, doing things the hard way?” you tease, and you are gifted a glimpse of his rare, unfiltered smile.

“Okay, enough pointing out my flaws,” he says with a raised eyebrow, though he’s still smiling, and as he looks down to type out a text, you remember to pull back your hand.

“I would never.” He looks up from his phone at that—maybe at the conviction in your voice, which you hadn’t exactly intended—and his expression softens further.

“I know you wouldn’t.” You hold eye contact for a moment, and then turn to finish preparing the board, pinning up another photo of another woman and reminding yourself that they need you to focus on the task at hand. Two weeks later, you knock on Hotch’s office door, a stack of completed consults in your hand. He looks up, that familiar notch in between his brows, a scowl on his face; when he sees that it’s you, he tones it down a little.

“Draw the short straw?” he asks, and you figure that’s because everyone knows he is in a bad mood and they’ve been avoiding this office all day. You shrug.

“It was rock, paper, scissors, but yes.” He huffs a short laugh, and you smile, step toward his desk. “Anything I can do to lighten the load?”

“Technically you’re adding to it,” he says with a glance at the files in your hand, and you set them on one of the chairs with a purposefully loud thump and then take the other seat.

“Technically. But technically, you only need to review my consults; I can review theirs. Right?” He mulls it over a moment, like the thought never crossed his mind—of course Aaron I have to do everything myself Hotchner would never suggest such a thing, even as the team sits in the bullpen with nothing to do, seeing who can throw M&Ms into Spencer’s mouth from the furthest distance.

“Technically,” he agrees, and you pluck a pen out of his pen cup and take the first file off the pile, open it in front of yourself, careful not to cut into the workspace he’s occupying. You both smile softly down at your work, and you actively do not think about that wrinkle between his eyebrows.

About an hour later, he reaches for his mug out of habit but finds it empty; you stand, take it in your hand, and he makes a noise of protest.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know,” you say, and you walk toward the door. “I need some too. I’ll be right back.”

You pass through the bullpen—apparently the M&M contest led to a sugar crash, because Spencer is laying with his head on his desk—and grab your cup off your desk, take both to the break room to fill them.

Derek appears next to you as you’re stirring your sugar in.

“Coffee date with the boss?” he asks with a curious expression, and you shake your head.

“Of course not. I’m helping him with the overwhelming amount of paperwork on his desk so his mood improves, instead of just ignoring him.” You raise an eyebrow in challenge, and Derek scratches the back of his head.

“Never thought of that,” he admits, and you pat him on the arm and take your coffees back upstairs.

Hotch looks up at you as you set his mug down, says a soft thank you, and you grab the pile of files you brought up, separate them, and head back downstairs.

“You review mine,” you say to Derek, handing him a stack, “Emily take Spencer’s, Spencer take Derek’s, I’ll take Emily’s.” They look at you like they have no idea what to say, and you just smile, tap the top of Spencer’s head with a folder. “I’ll come back down and grab them in a little bit.”

“Yes, boss,” Emily says, and you grin on your way back upstairs. Hotch is standing when you arrive this time, looking out the window over the bullpen.

“What did you do?” he asks, turning to you, frowning again. You’re so close that kissing that wrinkle would be effortless. All you’d have to do is lean in.

You smile.

“I delegated, Hotch. You should try it some time.” You put your hands on his arms and guide him back to his desk. “Now what can I help you with?”

By the end of the day, his desk is clean and his bad mood is long gone. He closes the last of his files, sighs deeply, covers your hand with one of his, and says thank you.

The next morning when you come in, there is a steaming latte and a cookie on your desk, and you can’t stop smiling the rest of the day. Your next case is draining, children abducted and left for dead, and everyone is on edge, but no one more than Hotch. You’re fairly certain his face hasn’t relaxed since the initial briefing, and he’d be a prime candidate for the old ‘your face will get stuck like that’ joke, if anyone was up to joking.

The team catches the unsub, saves one child, but not until after three are dead; you take a late flight home because no one wants to stay another night in a town it feels like you’ve failed, and everyone curls up to get some rest except you and Hotch.

You try to read the book you brought along—a science fiction dystopian novel, something to get you out of your head and away from real life problems—but you’re a little distracted by Hotch’s sighing. It’s become an every-five-minutes thing, and while you’re definitely on board with sighing as a way to decompress, he’s not decompressing. He looks like he’s in pain mentally, exhausted physically; you’re not sure how everyone else was able to ignore it and go to sleep, but then you figure everyone else may not be as in tune with him as you are. As observant.

As in love.

Not that that matters: you know your issues, and some of his issues, and there’s the whole superior/subordinate thing which doesn’t really do anything for you except give you a stomach ache. It would never work out, even if he somehow, miraculously, were to love you back—and that’s a pretty big if in and of itself.

But still, you notice him, can’t help it, and the sighing is getting to be a little much. You sigh yourself, put your finger in between the pages of your book, and walk over to take the seat next to him; he looks over at you, frowning just like always, and you carefully close his file and set it aside.

Neither of you say anything to the other, just look each other over for a moment, and then you lean lightly against his shoulder and flip back to the beginning of your book.

“I still dream of the island. I sometimes approach it across water, but more often through air, like a bird, with a great wind under my wings. The shores rise rain-coloured on the horizon of sleep, and in their quiet circle the buildings: the houses grown along the canals, the workshops of inkmasters, the low-ceilinged taverns.”

You keep your voice low and soothing, and you are just turning to page fifteen when you feel the weight of his head drop onto your shoulder.

The crease between his eyes melts away in sleep.

You read until you make it home, and you wake him up with a gentle nudge before the rest of the team drifts back to consciousness. He looks at you, blinks slowly like he’s trying to remember where he is, and then gets a little sheepish when he puts two and two together, realizes he fell asleep on your shoulder.

You just shake your head, give his arm a squeeze, and head back to your seat to gather your things. You, Hotch, and Emily are catching the elevator to the parking garage—after staying two hours later to work on some rush consults straight from Strauss—when he looks at something on his phone that makes him groan aloud. You and Emily share a look, and you ask what’s wrong.

“I just remembered I’m supposed to have a treat for Jack to take to school tomorrow and it’s, what, seven thirty?”

“So just stop at the supermarket on your way home; no one can tell the difference anyway,” Emily says, but you and Hotch both shoot her a skeptical glance.

“It’s all about the treats at a school like Jack’s,” you supply, and Hotch looks over at you like he’s surprised by your comment. “If they’re not homemade, the parents talk. Plus there’s probably an allergen list a mile long: no nuts, no eggs, no soy, no dairy. You have to pick him up from Haley’s tonight, right?” You’re pretty sure, but when he nods he confirms it. “So pick him up, go home and get some dinner, put him to bed, and I’ll text you when I’m on my way over with the goods. I have a great recipe for vegan apple cinnamon muffins that will go over really well.”

“You really don’t have to do that; I’ll figure something out,” he says, but you just shake your head and pull up the recipe on your phone.

“Forget it, it’s already done. I have everything I need at home already; let me help,” you murmur softly, and when he looks at you with the furrowed brow that comes with accepting kindness from someone else, you almost forget it’s not just the two of you in the elevator. It’s only when Emily clears her throat that the eye contact breaks. He nods.

“Okay. Thank you; I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” The elevator dings and it stops at the parking garage; the three of you get off and head in separate directions for your cars. “I’ll text you.”

“Goodnight,” Emily says with a grin, and you wave at her, hop into your car, and head for home.

About two hours later, you show up at Hotch’s door with two dozen apple cinnamon muffins, and unbleached, whole wheat flour in your hair, and he has coffee brewing, a smile on his face.

“You don’t know how grateful I am,” he says as he ushers you into the kitchen, takes the boxes of muffins from your hands, and pours you a cup of dark, delicious coffee. You sip it slowly, savoring the taste—you should have known he’d have incredible coffee—even though it’s far too late for you to be indulging. Unless you’re working a case, you usually switch to decaf by three.

“I know you are. I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t think you’d appreciate the gesture.” You lean forward, open a box, and pull out two muffins, handing one to him. “I made a couple extra so we could taste test; if I accidentally put salt in instead of sugar, you’re on your own,” you joke, and you wait for him to taste it before taking your own bite.

“That’s delicious. There’s really nothing unapproved in here?” he asks, and you shake your head.

“Nope, it’s all healthy and allergen free, except for the flour, but that wasn’t on the list you sent.” He reaches a hand toward you, and you don’t realize, at first, that he’s brushing the flour out of your hair.

“Messy baker,” he teases, and your heart feels really full, being in his kitchen like this, warm muffins and fresh coffee, even if your hair is a mess. You smile, and he smiles back before dropping into that serious expression, eyebrow wrinkle and all. You think about brushing your lips there tonight, but this feels like two steps forward, and you don’t want to risk taking that step back. “Next time I’ll help you.”

“Oh, next time? You plan on needing my baking expertise again? Fair warning, this is the only recipe I know, so I hope you like apple cinnamon muffins.” You take a sip of your coffee, look up at him, and he takes another bite, nods his head.

“I do. Especially these.”

In a perfect world, what comes next would be a cinnamony, coffee flavored kiss, but the world’s not perfect, and you yawn instead. You look down at your mug like it’s betrayed you, and Hotch chuckles low.

“It’s decaf. I know you usually stop in the afternoon; I wouldn’t forgive myself if you were up all night because of me.” You have always been a person who falls in love with all the little details about someone, so the fact that he’s noticed this, remembers this, makes your heart beat a little faster. “I should let you go. You’ve done so much today, between staying late and baking for Jack—for me. You need to get some sleep.”

He’s right, it’s nearly ten, and you should be getting back home, but this is a moment you never want to end.

You just nod, though, and he reaches out to brush his hand over your back when he walks you to the door.

“Thank you again. I really appreciate that you did this for me,” he says, soft, like he still can’t imagine you would.

“You’re welcome, Hotch. Any time, really; I’m happy to help.”

You get home, clean your kitchen, and have a very late dinner, and the smell of good coffee and apples and cinnamon is still in your nose when you drift to sleep. “You didn’t hear what he said,” Hotch snaps almost a month later, with one hand splayed on his hip and the other on the table in front of him. The moment you saw him engaged in an argument with a member of the Sheriff’s department, fire in his eyes, you’d grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into a small conference room, shutting the door behind you. It took almost three minutes of staring at each other for him to say something instead of just glaring at you for interrupting the pissing contest.

“I don’t need to know what he said. I know you, and I know you handle people like that with a quick, sharp remark and then you wash your hands of it. You don’t argue back and forth, you don’t draw it out. You would have regretted it if you did that today, so I stopped you.”

“You think you know me so well, do you?” he asks in an unkind tone of voice you can’t identify, haven’t heard from him before; the expression on his face is familiar, though, a scowl that only puts emphasis on his handsome features—it’s unfair, really.

You exhale, cross your arms.

“Yes, and I know you well enough to know you’re irritated with him, not me, so cut the shit.”

It’s the first time you’ve ever been quite that direct with him, and certainly the first time you’ve ever sworn at him; your immediate instinct is to apologize, but he surprises you by huffing a laugh. The angry lines of his face smooth into something softer.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. He just—I can’t stand people like that.” He scrubs a hand through his hair in irritation. “We’re here to work—to do a job they couldn’t finish on their own. Not to be… objectified.” He mutters the last word, so low you almost don’t hear it, and then there’s a knock at the door. Derek enters.

“Sheriff wants a word, Hotch; do you have a sec?” With one last look at you, he nods, brushes past him to leave the room. Derek gives you the barest hint of a smile. “He was defending your honor, you know.”

You frown. You didn’t know.

“That jerk was talking about me?” you ask, clarifying, and he nods.

“Something about assuming you’re an athlete because he likes your ass. Set the boss man off.” You walk over to him and leave the room together, heading back to your workspace.

“Well Hotch is right, we’re here to work, not to be objectified. I can see how he would get angry.” Derek shoots you a flat, questioning glance.

“You think he’d be getting that worked up if it was my ass that guy was talking about? Or Emily’s?” The two of you stop outside the conference room, and you cross your arms, lean against the doorframe, frown.

“So what are you trying to say? That he sees me as being weak, thinks he needs to defend me? I'm as capable as either of you.” That may not be strictly true, because you’re a little more brains than brawn, like Spencer in that way, but you can hold your own and you thought Hotch knew that.

Derek just laughs, shakes his head, and ducks into the room. You follow, so confused.

“I thought you were just playing it close to the vest, but you’re oblivious, aren’t you?”

“Oblivious about what?” Emily asks, pen between her teeth, feet kicked up onto a chair, and you shrug.

“I’m still not sure. Hotch got into an argument with a deputy about me, and I asked Derek if Hotch thinks I’m weak and that’s why he felt like he had to defend me.” She smiles broadly around the pen, pulls it out of her mouth with a grin.

“Oh, honey. That’s not it. You know that’s not it, right?”

“I clearly don’t know what’s going on at all, so no, if you’d care to enlighten me,” you say, sinking into an empty chair. “I hate it when you guys are cryptic.” You love your team, but they have a habit of doing this all the time, saying things to each other with their eyes, or just a few words that don’t have any sensible meaning that you know of. It’s like they live to talk over your head, to say things without actually saying them.

“Okay. Hotch has a thing for you,” Emily says simply, and you blink.

Well that’s the very last thing you’d expected to hear.

“He absolutely does not.” You look at Derek, who’s making a face like you’re the one being crazy; you laugh out loud, can’t help it. “He does not. I’m pretty sure Hotch doesn’t have things, and if he did, he wouldn’t have a thing for me.”

“Why not? Because that would be too convenient, since you have a thing for him too?” Derek asks, taking the seat across from you, and you grab the nearest case file, flip it open and focus your attention on it.

“I care about him, the same way I care about all of you, and he maybe needs a little more care—but you guys are reading into things.”

Thankfully, you don’t have to say anything more, because Hotch, JJ, and Spencer return, and you all have a lead to work.

You can’t help but wonder if you’re being obvious about your feelings, though, especially later, when you get back to the hotel and the group decides to have a drink at the bar.

JJ and Emily hit the pool table while Derek and Spencer head up for drinks, and you are left sitting with Hotch at the table, pressed together in the inside corner of a booth.

“Tired?” you ask him, because he does look worn out, his tie a bit loose, his eyes a little red. You know he doesn’t get much sleep when you travel, and you can’t imagine he’ll go to bed even when this little detour is over.

“Always,” he sighs, but when he looks over at you, he smiles, just a little. “Just can’t wait to get out of this town.”

“Yeah, it gives Southern hospitality a whole new meaning, doesn’t it?” The people you’ve interviewed today are, on paper, quite respectable, but there’s a Desperate Housewives, ‘everyone is sleeping with someone else's spouse’ kind of thing going on, and it’s honestly exhausting. To your surprise, Hotch laughs.

“It really does. I don’t think I’ve ever missed the quiet solitude of my apartment quite this much.” You lean back against the vinyl of the booth, sigh.

“I miss my apartment, but it’s been too quiet lately. I prefer the sounds of someone else sharing space with me: the coffee maker percolating, the news in the background, the shower running, the sound of flipping the pages of a book or magazine.” You look down at your hands, because you’re getting a little more emotional than you usually let other people see. “Sorry. I’m not typically this open about being…”

You trail off, but Hotch looks over at you, concerned, the wrinkle between his eyebrows even more noticeable when you’re sitting this close. You think, just briefly, of running your thumb over it, but with your luck, Derek or Emily would see, and you’d never live it down.

“Lonely?” he finishes softly, and when you nod your head, he covers your hands with one of his own, bumps his shoulder against yours. “I get lonely too. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” You look up at him, feeling a little vulnerable, and his expression softens. “When we get back, maybe you could come over for dinner some night. Nothing fancy,” he clarifies, and you smile, “just two lonely people being a little less lonely.”

“That would be really nice.” You can see Derek and Spencer approaching out of the corner of your eye, and Hotch must too, because he removes his hand, slips back into the slight, persistent frown you have come to know and love. Derek looks at you, raises an eyebrow, and hands you your beer. You try to tell him to shut up with your face, plan to follow up later to see if that actually worked. “We have an agent down on the second floor,” Spencer says into his comms, and you immediately want to slap him in the back of the head.

“Don’t say agent down, kid; I’m like, slightly wounded at best.” You hold a hand against the stab wound on your side—the unsub honestly just grazed you, and you’d knocked him out with a single punch, which made you feel pretty awesome—and reach out the other so he can help pull you to your feet. Your hand comes up to your own walkie button. “I’m not down, I’m fine—just slightly stabbed,” you add, and Spencer is getting his cuffs on the unsub when Hotch and JJ burst through the doors.

Well, Hotch bursts. JJ follows behind looking strangely winded for one of the most naturally athletic people you know.

“What happened? Are you alright?” he asks, and you lift your shirt to show him the sluggishly bleeding gash.

“I’m fine, see? It’s not even deep. Spencer saw blood and got a little ahead of himself.” You turn to Spencer, who sticks out his tongue, then back to Hotch, who looks haunted and pale, with that goddamn wrinkle between his eyebrows again. He’s bent down, looking over your wound seriously—you’ve had worse, so much worse, that you don’t understand why he’s so worried about it—and then he leans up, presses a hand to your cheek, and pulls you close for a soft, tender kiss.

If this were a movie, right about now a camera would be panning around you in a circle, as you wrap your free hand around his neck, pull him closer, melt against his body like it’s all you’ve been dreaming of for months, and the two of you would break apart smiling, maybe even kiss again.

It’s not a movie, though, so you just bleed out against your hand and freeze, because Hotch is kissing you at a crime scene and you almost got filleted, so you’re not sure if this is a you got hurt, so I’d better kiss you kiss or an I’ve been wanting to kiss you forever, and you got hurt so I have to kiss you kiss.

When he breaks the kiss, you’re both breathing a bit heavily, and you don’t know what to do, so you just lean in and press your lips to that wrinkle between his eyebrows that you’ve been thinking about so frequently since the first time you noticed it. You brush a hand through his hair, and when you pull back, he’s smiling.

“What was that?” He covers your hand on your side with his own and helps get you toward the elevator so you can be patched up by the EMTs; JJ and Spencer are left staring, open-mouthed in your wake, with an unconscious unsub at their feet, but neither of you are concerned about that.

“I’ve been thinking of doing that for months now: to kiss that spot between your eyes so you’ll stop frowning for a change. Since I couldn’t, I decided to find other ways to help you stop frowning so much. It kind of became my life’s mission.” He sighs, puts his arm around you and holds you close while you wait for the elevator to bring you to the ground floor.

“I stop frowning when you’re around because you’re around, not just because of the things you do for me,” he tells you, and he presses his lips to yours for another warm, soft, perfect kiss. “I’ve been thinking of doing that for months now.” You tilt your head, make a sound of contemplation, and he chuckles softly. “What is it?”

“I think those cryptic idiots we work with might be onto something,” you say with a grin, and when the elevator lets you off and Hotch helps you toward the ambulance to be patched up, Derek and Emily are waiting with concerned looks on their faces. They must be pretty confused to see you’re grinning from ear to ear. “Hey, you guys were right; Hotch does have a thing for me!” you call as you walk past them, and when your wound is properly dressed and wrapped, you put your arms around his neck and let him kiss you until the frown and accompanying wrinkle are nothing but distant memories.

*The novel excerpt is from The Weaver by Emmi Itäranta.

Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #ask answered #anon #prompt #aaron hotchner x gn reader #hotch x gn reader #request

[itsdanii]

Hello. I loved the rejecting then regretting it scenario with Sakusa and Tsukki. 💞💞 Would you be open to doing one with Inarizaki boys as well? If it's too much, Atsumu would do because I think he is the one most likely to have this happen. Angst to fluff, please. 👉👈 Thank you!

Rejecting you and Regretting it pt. 2

a/n: hey, bub. as much as i wanted to input all inarizaki boys, i only take 1-2 characters per request. the reason for this is for me to avoid being repetitive with the scenes. i hope you understand. that being said, here's your request for the part 2 with atsumu. this was supposed to be short but i kind of got carried away with this, 'm sorry😭

genre: angst to fluff

warnings: cursing, rude behavior (resolved), please do remind me if i missed anything else

ft. atsumu miya

Atsumu Miya

You met Atsumu during your first year

It was exactly the first day when you bumped into him on the hallways and ended up being in the same class

From there on, the both of you formed a good friendship since you have the same tastes in things

Along the way, you managed to fall for him

It wasn't impossible to fall for him after all

He was fun to be with, that it felt as if there were no dull moments when you're with him

But you were afraid of confessing to him because you didn't want to ruin your friendship

However, that all changed when somebody entered the picture

"Another one?" you asked Atsumu as he sat on your usual table at the school's cafeteria.

Looking at the two boxes of chocolates given to him by a fangirl, Atsumu nodded. "Mhmm. They just keep on coming every single day."

You can't help but laugh at what he said. You took one of the boxes and stared at the familiar name written on it. "Yuki again? Isn't she that girl from the other section? The one who kept on giving you stuff every day?" you asked and the smile you had awhile ago completely disappeared from your face.

"The one and only. She's kind of cute though," he said as if it wasn't a big deal.

Maybe for him, it wasn't, but it's a different case for you. You were aware of what you're getting into the moment you realized that you have feelings for Atsumu. At first, his fangirls didn't bother you since you knew that he doesn't really pay attention to them but hearing what Atsumu said just now sparked a feeling of jealousy inside of you.

You knew that what you're feeling right now is selfish. He isn't your boyfriend. Sure, you might've been in love with him for 2 years now but that doesn't mean that you have the right to tell him who he should and shouldn't date, right? After all, you're just his friend.

In fact, you've thought of confessing several times already but fear always overtook you. Afraid of ruining the bond the two of you have, you disregarded the idea and settled on keeping your feelings a secret.

But that might change today. Seeing Atsumu smiling at the chocolates right now made you think that if you don't do something about it now, you might just lose him to another girl.

And you'd rather lose him by getting rejected than lose him to another girl, knowing that you didn't do something.

"You think she's cute?"

Atsumu nodded as he swallowed the whole onigiri Osamu packed for him. "Mhmm. Kind of my type actually."

You tilted your head a bit to the side and rested your cheek on your palm with your elbows placed on top of the table. "So cute girls are your type of girls... What about me, 'Tsumu? Do you think I'm cute?"

Atsumu placed his chopsticks down and stared at you intently, a small grin now forming on his lips. "Of course."

"Cute enough to be your type?"

You knew that you were playing a dangerous game but it was now or never. This time you wouldn't let fear win over you, now that Atsumu mentioned that his attention was caught by someone.

You know Yuki. She's pretty and kind of popular for being a member of the cheerleading team, and the more you thought about it, the more your confidence wavered.

A volleyball player and a cheerleader? What a good match.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard Atsumu laughing. "What are ya saying, y/n? Did ya hit yer head or something?"

Crossing your arms over your chest to fake confidence, you frowned at him. "Just answer the question, Miya."

"Of course yer cute but to be my type?" He shook his head and scratched the back of his head. "Sorry, angel, but I don't date my friends, let alone someone whom I consider my best friend."

You took a deep breath before finally letting the words out. Your heart was beating erratically as cold sweat started forming on your nape out of nervousness.

"I like you, Atsumu. I tried to hold myself back because I didn't want to ruin our friendship but hearing you talk about how someone finally managed to catch your attention just..." You sighed and looked down at your lap. "I don't think I can hide it anymore knowing that I could lose you anytime."

Silence enveloped the two of you and the anticipation made you more anxious than you already was.

"Was this yer plan all along?"

You turned your gaze towards him upon hearing his words. "What do you mean? I don't know what you're talking about.."

You felt yourself freeze when Atsumu chuckled before answering. "Ya really think I'd fall for the same trick? C'mon y/n. I'm not as stupid as what people say."

"I don't understand-"

"Did'ya think that two years of friendship will let ya accomplish yer goal? I didn't expect ya to be like the other girls. Ya don't like me. Ya just like the idea of dating me for my popularity." 

Your lips parted at his words. You wanted to reason out and defend yourself but the way he was looking at you made you almost cower in fear.

He's looking at you the way he looks at his fangirls when they shout during his services.

"Tsumu, that's not true. I really like you." You gave him a pleading look, hoping that he'd see your sincerity but he only glared at you.

"Pathetic. Get out of my sight," he said without any sympathy.

"You could've just rejected me like a normal person would, instead of insulting me." You wiped your tears with the back of your hand as you stood up but before you left, you looked at him straight in the eyes once more. "You know what? Out of the two of us, I'm not the one who's pathetic. It's you. Goodluck on your game tomorrow, Atsumu."

You walked away without turning back, knowing that once you spared him another glance, you'd go back and fight for your feelings.

But what's the point of fighting when you're the only one who's willing to fight?

-

A week later, you were back to your usual attitude or at least that's what you wanted yourself to believe. At least you're trying, right?

There were times that your eyes would drift towards Atsumu's direction but you kept on reminding yourself that you won't be able to move on unless you really put effort on throwing away your feelings.

When classes ended, you were left alone in your classroom due to cleaning duties. While you were sweeping the part near the door, you managed to catch Atsumu's back and saw that he was talking to someone - it was Yuki.

You stared at his back longingly and let out a sigh because you knew that despite how much you're trying to disregard your feelings, you miss the feeling of being beside him.

You missed his voice, his goofiness, everything.

"Bestfriends, huh?" you whispered to yourself and chuckled at how pathetic you must've been, pining over someone you knew who'd never look at you.

After doing your cleaning duties, you exit the room and decided to walk on the opposite direction since Atsumu and Yuki were still talking on the direction where the exit was supposed to be.

Who would want to hear their crush talking to their girlfriend anyway? Certainly not you.

The only downside of going in the direction you chose was that you weren't familiar with it. Even though you've been studying here for three years now, there were still places you weren't familiar of.

It was now getting dark and you brought out your phone to use the flashlight. You noticed that you're already out of the building, however, the surroundings weren't familiar to you.

You decided to continue walking, realizing that you somehow made it to the back of the school. Trees surrounded you and only a few lights were there to guide your way.

"Shit," you whispered to yourself as you realized that you were getting nowhere.

You decided to go back to the direction you came from but you only seemed to confuse yourself even more. Tears were now starting to well up in your eyes as you nervously tried to find your way back.

You sqealed as something rustled behind you. You immediately ran out of panic and fumbled with your phone, dialing the first number you could click.

"Y/n?"

It's him.

"'Tsumu, I-" you paused for a moment to catch your breath and sat down on the ground, your back resting against a tree. "Help me."

You hear some shouting and some wooshing sounds from the other side of the phone before Atsumu's voice filled your ears. "Where are you, angel?" he asked with concern lacing his voice.

"I don't know. I was just looking for the exit and the next thing I know I'm surrounded with trees and there's this sound of rustling so I ran away," you said without pausing. "Tsumu, I'm scared."

"I'll go find ya, okay? But first calm down. Can ya do that for me? Just breathe and tell me the directions ya can  remember."

After explaining all the things you could remember, Atsumu didn't drop the call. Instead, he stayed on the line and comforted you with his words.

It wasn't long then when Atsumu appeared on your line of vision and the first thing you did was wrap your arms around him. You were quickly enveloped in his warmth as he rubbed your back soothingly.

"It's okay now, y/n. I'm here," he whispered as he kept on rubbing your back.

After having a few moments to calm you down, Atsumu instructed you to climb on his back. You wanted to decline but due to how tired your legs felt because of running, you had no choice but to agree.

"I'm sorry for calling you. You must've been busy," you mumbled while resting your head on his shoulder.

"I was actually still around school when ya called. I saw ya cleaning and decided to wait for ya but Yuki wanted to talk to me. The next moment I know, ya were gone but I still waited because I knew that if ya went home already, you would've passed by but ya didn't," Atsumu explained, his grip on your thighs tightening as he spoke.

"I guess Yuki and you are now-"

"I spoke to her to tell her to stop giving me random stuff." Atsumu licked his lips nervously before continuing, "When you left, I realized how much I messed up. I spouted some offensive words to ya and rejected ya without thinking of the consequences."

"Tsumu..."

"Let me finish, okay? This is the only chance I'm getting and there's no way I'm going to waste it. I already wasted a lot of time."

You gave a small nod as the memories of what happened all came flooding back to you. You fisted your hands and bit your lower lip to stop yourself from crying.

"I was scared. Ya were the only one who was genuine to me. Everytime I'm around you, I'm just me. I'm just Atsumu. Not the setter of the volleyball team nor the noisy twin of 'Samu," he said, followed be a chuckle.

"I was used to girl fawning over me. I have this mentality that girls are just after my reputation and when ya confessed to me, the first thing that entered my mind was that you were the same as them, that you were only going to use me. In the end, I didn't only lost my bestfriend but also the person I love. I'm sorry for hurting for you, angel."

Atsumu placed you down once you both made it infront of the school gate. He was looking you intensely and you didn't fail to notice that his eyes were glossed with tears as well. "I like you, and if this time, ya realized that yer feelings for me are no longer there, I'd respect it."

He took your hands in his and squeezed them tightly, not enough to hurt you but just enough to let you know that he was afraid to let you go.

"It's always been here. My feelings for you never faded despite how much I wanted them to disappear," you said as you stared at him lovingly, tears of happiness now flowing freely down your cheeks. "I still like you, 'Tsumu."

"Fuck. You don't know how much hearing ya say that makes me happy right now." Atsumu let go of your hand and wrapped his arms around you. His scent filled your nose and you couldn't stop yourself from burrying your face to the side of his neck.

"I love ya."

"And I love you too, 'Tsumu."

likes and reblogs are appreciated ♥️

#haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #hq imagines #haikyuu imagines #haikyu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu comfort #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #hq angst #hq x reader #hq headcanons #atsumu fluff #atsumu angst #atsumu comfort #hq atsumu #atsumu imagines #atsumu x reader #atsumu headcanons #atsumu scenarios #atsumu x you #atsumu miya fluff #atsumu miya angst

[therealrosebuddies]

Zipper Problems

“Don’t know why they changed zippers.” He continued, his other hand grabbing the fabric of the dress. It was his metal hand- and it was cold. You shivered at the contact and Bucky stopped, sizing you up.

“Cold metal.” You explained, a little quicker than you would’ve liked.

Bucky hummed in response, tugging at the zipper.

It didn’t come down.

Description: Reader has a wardrobe malfunction and Bucky Barnes is the only one around to help out. You'd think these two would be smart enough to outthink a mini dress, but you'd be wrong.

A not so short one shot- that could easily turn into a longer story. I just wanted to dip my toes back into writing for Bucky, so I just wrote something based on the last episode. I had fun with it, so maybe I'll start writing again!

Warnings: none, sexual tension I guess haha

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader, though all the other characters from Falcon and the Winter Soldier are present.

“You know, you're looking a lot worse off in the light.” Sharon remarked, looking you up and down. You couldn’t blame her.

The mini-dress you wore was trying to ride up, dirty and out of place on your body. You were covered in melted slush, the intricate hairstyle you had created sagging off the top of your head like melted ice cream. And you weren’t even going to start on the amount of skin you were showing. You couldn’t pull the dress up and you definitely couldn’t pull it down, so you were stuck in the uncomfortable middle. It had felt weird to be so exposed and on display, but now you just felt tired.

Well, all of you did. When you entered the room, Bucky had been the first to sit down, crashing against the nearest couch. Sam had helped himself to the rack suits, ready to get out of his get-up. Zemo got a drink. You had just stood there, not seeing an option for yourself.

Luckily, Sharon had noticed.

You moved a broken strap with the back of your hand, nodding in agreement. Sharon had the hint of a smirk on her face, gesturing toward a far room.

“There’s some better clothes in there. Pick something a little more manageable- but nice.”

You nodded, awkwardly keeping your arms cocooned over your chest. You hobbled over into the room, ignoring the eyes that followed in your wake. Upon swinging the door closed, you kicked off your heels, letting out a sinful sigh as you freed yourself. Leaning against the wall, you massaged the base of one of your feet, scanning the room as you took a moment to decompress.

It was a nice room. Big, with simple but expensive-looking decor. There was a small bed against the wall, sticking out into the middle of the room. Your eyes roved over the soft material of the bed and for a moment you thought about jumping in.

Realizing what you were thinking, you rolled your eyes, shifting your weight back onto both feet. Eyes drifting towards the closet, you hobbled over and nudged open the door.

Sharon was loaded.

You knew that already- but it was still a surprise to see the line of expensive outfits pressed and tucked in together. You drew your hand across the row of clothes, smiling at the soft feeling against your rough hands. Eventually, your focus landed on an outfit. It was another dress, black, with a longer skirt and a couple tracks of glitter. You weren’t sure if you would need to look like a convincing escort- so you thought it rational to choose something with a skirt. This one actually had sleeves and a high neckline, still managing to feel a bit tactical. Not too crazy, but definitely not casual. The material was going to hug your curves, but at this point, you’d rather have anything besides the mini dress.

You pulled it from the closet, reaching back with one hand to unzip your dress. You fumbled against the fabric, trying to find the zipper. You inched your hand upward, shoulder aching. After a few moments, you switched positions, dropping the nice dress against the bed and going back in with both arms. You flailed around for a few more moments, eventually coming to the conclusion that your arms couldn’t bend that way. The zipper was in the exact place that you couldn’t reach it, no matter where you put your arms.

You sighed, dropping your arms. There was no way to just slip off the dress either, it didn’t work that way. You glanced at the door, gathering your courage and marching back over. Hovering at the door, you pressed your ear against the wood, hearing nothing but silence. You let out another sigh and opened the door.

No one was in the room. At least, no one you could see at first. You glanced around in confusion, wondering if they had decided to leave you.

Then you saw Bucky, unceremoniously sprawled on the floor. The view of his body had been blocked by the coffee table. He was staring up at the ceiling, almost as if he hadn’t heard you.

You glanced around the room again, inching out of the doorway.

“Bucky?”

The super soldier grunted, keeping his gaze on the ceiling.

You crept closer, the padding of your feet echoing around the room.

“Is Sharon still around?”

At the sound of your wavering voice, Bucky turned to look at you, forsaking the ceiling. He took in your expression of embarrassment, perplexed.

“No. She’s prepping Sam and Zemo.” He explained, sitting up. “Did you need her?”

“No… no. Well, I mean, kind of…” You fumbled with your words, biting your lip and inhaling slowly as Bucky stared up at you. “I just needed her to unzip my dress.”

The former Winter Soldier’s eyes widened, just enough that you were able to notice. He nodded slowly, his gaze snapping onto the floor as if to play off his surprise. You would tease him, but you realized the implication of the act- especially for a guy from the forties. That, and you were a little too tired to joke.

You let out a small breath, glancing around the room. You needed to change now. It was embarrassing- especially if your stalled costume change held up everyone else. You glanced back down at Bucky, mouth pressing into a straight line as the feeling in your chest tightened.

“Can you…” You hesitated, catching Bucky’s eye. “...unzip it for me?”

You could’ve sworn you heard the man swallow, gaze dropping from yours.

Bad idea. Stupid.

You opened your mouth to brush it off, to insist that you could get the dress off yourself. Instead, Bucky rose to his feet, eyes trained on his feet. Neither of you spoke for a moment and you were looking at him in confusion, waiting for him to speak. When you didn’t move, Bucky met your eyes, staring as if he was the one waiting. You cocked your head at him and he seemed to flush, gesturing with his hands.

“Are you going to…” Bucky swung his finger around in a circle, eyebrows furrowed. Your eyes widened, getting the idea.

“Oh.Oh, okay.” You spun around quickly, clasping your hands together in front of you.

This was embarrassing. Why did you feel so nervous?

It was just Bucky.

Then you felt his breath on your neck. You almost jumped, your entwined hands clenching together tightly instead. You should’ve known that was going to happen. It was normal when someone was unzipping your dress- they had to get close to grab the zipper. You knew it wasn’t a big deal.

So why did it feel that way?

“What kind of zipper is this?” Bucky muttered, the back of his hand grazing your skin as he grabbed onto the metal.

You chuckled lightly, shrugging your shoulders.

“Don’t know why they changed zippers.” He continued, his other hand grabbing the fabric of the dress. It was his metal hand- and it was cold. You shivered at the contact and Bucky stopped, sizing you up.

“Cold metal.” You explained, a little quicker than you would’ve liked.

Bucky hummed in response, tugging at the zipper.

It didn’t come down.

Bucky made a sound of confusion, yanking the metal again. You fought the smile that crept across your face, realizing the problem.

“Buck-” But before you could explain, Bucky tugged again, a little too hard. The clasp snapped and the zipper shot down, the small of your back suddenly exposed to mild air of the room.

You yelped instinctively, hands scrambling toward you back as Bucky grabbed at the broken metal, frantically offering apologies.

“I didn’t mean to do that.”

“It’s okay-”

“It just wouldn’t come down and I-”

“Bucky-”

“Where’s that stupid little-”

“It’s fine-”

“Why did they change zippers?”

Bucky had his hands pulling tight at the fabric of the dress, keeping the dress from opening any more than it already had. The pressure on your body was tight and his grip had unknowingly moved you closer to the super-soldier, your back almost grazing his jacket.

You let out a calming breath, ignoring the fact that with any move you could lose the small piece of fabric covering your body. You glanced back at Bucky, who had his gaze snapping around across the floor.

“Did you drop the zipper?” You murmured, quiet as if not to spook him.

“Yeah.” He admitted, sounding just as lost as you did.

Eyes closing and heart twisting, you looked up slightly, trying to cope with the situation. It shouldn’t have been a big deal. Sure, you were pretty exposed, but Bucky was a friend. It was awkward as would be expected in the situation. But something felt different. As you thought about it, it didn’t feel awkward at all. You had been wrong. It felt...

You slowly glanced back toward Bucky. He met your gaze and for once, you didn’t shrink away. There was this blooming feeling in the pit of your gut, growing at the same speed your cheeks flushed. His close proximity was rattling, as if you hadn’t been close to him before. You had- but it hadn’t been like this. This was different- your back was brushing his chest and the strength of his arms was pulling at your waist. His shaky breath was ghosting across your skin, sending shivers down your exposed spine.

Oh god.

You were almost naked.

It was completely silent now- but there was a weight to the silence. Something you couldn’t describe. You pursed your lips, wondering if it would be better if you just. stopped. looking. at him.

Bucky’s eyes wandered as if he was thinking, his grip on your dress unwavering. You watched him, unable to think yourself out of this situation as your stomach did loopty loops. You didn’t watch where he was looking- you couldn’t. At the moment you were at his mercy, his hands the only barrier between you and losing your dress. He came back to focus on your wide eyes, and your heart jumped into your throat.

Suddenly, the door on the far side of the room slammed open. The two of you jolted, Bucky recovering a bit quicker than you as he readjusted the shifting dress in his hands. You scrambled to get a hold of the fabric as Zemo walked through the door. The man stopped, taking in the compromising situation with a look that made your skin crawl. As soon as you managed to press the dress against your sides, Bucky stepped in front of you, shoulders raised. You glanced up at his back in surprise, stunned by his suddenly towering stance.

“Having fun?” Zemo asked, his level voice verging on taunting.

“It wasn’t like that.” Bucky responded, trying to keep his voice just as level- but no one could’ve ignored the edge in his reply.

“Of course…” Zemo relented, raising his hands in mock surrender.

Bucky didn’t relax.

Glancing around his arm, you stared at Zemo, then looked back in forth between the two. Bucky’s jaw was clenched, his brows set dangerously over his eyes. Zemo still looked smug, his hand toying with something in his jacket pocket.

Trusting him was dangerous for all of you. Sam had made that known. At first, you felt like Bucky had been nonchalant about it, that he had somehow moved on from Siberia. But at that moment, you knew that was the farthest thing from the truth.

Your eyes fell back to his hands- the vibranium arm squawking slightly at the pressure of his grip. You straightened up behind Bucky, pressing your shoulder lightly into his back.

“It’s fine.” You insisted, stepping out from behind him to glare at Zemo, “Nothing needs to be said.”

The convict raised his eyebrows, baiting you to argue. If it had been a few years ago, you would’ve flipped him off. You probably would’ve yelled. But now you were just tired... and didn’t really feel like giving him the time of day. You blew a short breath of air from your nose and glanced back at Bucky, ignoring the creep. His jaw was still tense, his body turned toward you, but had his gaze boring into Zemo.

“Hey.” Bucky’s head turned toward you, dragging his eyes from the source of anger, “Sorry. I’m going to…” You pointed back to the door with a sympathetic shrug.

Bucky seemed to remember what he had been so protective about in the first place, eyes widening as he realized. “Oh, yeah- go, go.” Bucky insisted, tearing his eyes away as you let out a loud sigh of relief and scampered backward into the bedroom.

You slammed the door behind you, back pressed hard up against the wood. Cheeks burning so hot you could fry an egg on them, you let out a small groan, quiet enough that you were sure no one else would hear.

Had that really just happened?

You pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes, gritting your teeth. With the movement, your dress fell unceremoniously to the floor, puddling around your legs. You glared down at the wine-colored mini, scowling.

“I hate you.” You hissed, kicking your leg and sending the garment flying into the bed.

Because of that stupid dress, Bucky was no longer just your friend. How could he be, when the feeling of his breath was seared into your brain? Just the thought of it sent a thrill of excitement down your spine.

You blinked at the thought, realizing something with dread.

You had a crush- a big, fat, mission-wrecking crush.

And unbeknownst to you- so did Bucky Barnes.

#bucky barns x you #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky fluff #bucky x reader #mcu x reader #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #falcon and the winter solider spoilers #bucky barnes fanfiction #x reader

[writteninkat]

Heyy🦙 I'm writing fanfiction for Hinata (form Haikyuu) and I'm gonna post it once I'm done but that's besides the point..

actually request: Any of the MHA/BNHA boys catch you writing/reading/drawing fanfiction/fan art

the characters are your pick

um- I never tell you this but dont stress yourself either🥰😚

BNHA GUYS CATCHING YOU WITH FANFICTION/FANART

w/ Bakugou, Iida, Kirishima, Denki, Shoto

warnings: suggestive themes

a/n: i'm having trouble falling asleep these days and it's taking a toll on my daily activities but i'm sure i'll manage, thank you :")

navigation

KATSUKI BAKUGOU

catches you reading fanfiction

blond bb knows you love to read, as a matter of fact, he's aware you read more than you spend time with him. and he's alright with that cause he'd rather chill with you in silence than listen to you talk his ear out lol

just because he doesn't mind you with your hobby doesn't mean he isn't curious about it

what kind of books are you reading that have your eyes glued to your screen the whole day every day?

he never does this and really doesn't want to do it but curiosity killed the cat. as you bake cookies with Mina downstairs, you left your phone in your room to charge

Katsuki takes this as his chance to snoop. He won't go to any other app, he'll head straight to your reading apps and sites.

Jujutsu Kaisen x Reader?

Haikyuu x Reader?

Naruto x Reader?

and what the fuck is 'lemon' and 'smut'?

he puts your phone back, discreetly leaving your room to do some research in his room

ah, so you've been reading 2k-10k worth of words of fanfiction about Jujustu Kaisen, Haikyuu and Naruto characters pleasing you...

he shall now delete his search history and pretend he never found out about this part of you

TENYA IIDA

catches you drawing fanart

everyone in 1A knows you draw and that you're amazing at it

Class press never forgets/fails to compliment your drawings, even if you the pieces are half down

but that's the thing. you always let him see and sometimes you even let him watch as you draw, so why are you hiding this particular piece from him?

he guesses it's a surprise for him- but hold on, he doesn't have tattoos or pink hair. so who is it?

while you're in the bathroom, he sneakily takes a peak at your work and thinks he should regret it but honestly, the art is so good he can't even find it anything remotely negative

it's a fanart of who he remembers is Sukuna, the kind of curses from the TV show Jujutsu Kaisen. he's on a throne with a mountain of skulls underneath it, a corner of his lips tugged up into a smile as a woman's head rests in between his thighs

he probably should regret ever taking a peek but the details, holy shit. the shading, the hand- everything just sends shivers down his spine

EIJIRO KIRISHIMA

catches you writing fan fiction

red boi always loves listening to you type as you study or do your homework, he uses it as a sleeping aid. as you work diligently on your desk, he lays on your bed, slowly drifting to sleep land

today, however, your typing sounds different. it's much faster, more rushed and he can't help his curiosity from growing at how you're biting on your lip, smiling as you typed

from what he knows, you absolutely hate typing essays so why do you look so excited right now?

he lets it slide, sleeping to the sound of your rushed typing.

the next day, you ask Eijiro to bring your laptop with him cause you're about to watch a movie with the whole class and the files are in your comouter

it's not even his fault, your laptop was left open and on and when he moved to turn it off, he catches a glimpse of "Tsukishima runs a hand down your thigh, his hot breath rising goosebumps all over your body." and suddenly he's reading the whole chapter

you barge in your room, yelling and asking what took him so long only to catch him glued to your computer screen, mouth left ajar.

you quickly snatch the PC from him, earning a whine. "Give it back! I need to know if Tsukki likes me back!" He pouts.

"This isn't for you to read, Eij! Leave it alone!"

"Oh sure, so your ten thousand followers in tumblr can read it but I, your boyfriend, can't. Okay, yeah. I see just how Eijirophobic you are."

he's pouting the whole day until you finally give in and let him read your drafts. allowing him to correct your grammar and spelling errors along the way

SHOTO TODOROKI

catches you reading fan fiction

this man is utterly confused why you're suddenly reading so much and how your vocabulary is slowly expanding but he's happy for you

as the both of you are in his room, silent as the both of you read your own books, Shoto can't help but get curious

so as you fall asleep with your phone still turned on, he takes his chance to get a peek

he also wants to read the books you're reading, he wants to learn more and improve himself. if your english grades had risen up from reading what you read, surely he'll also learn from how "Toji places your leg on his shoulder as he continues to pound in"-

as a matter of fact maybe he is okay with what he knows now. sometimes ignorance is bliss after all

DENKI KAMINARI

catches you watching fanart

you've forgotten about the wall of mirrors behind you and you're scrolling down your current favorite artist's twitter page, flood liking their posts

mind you their fanarts are 18+ so you thought it'd be best to face your boyfriend so he won't be able to see what you're looking at.

no, yeah you're a complete idiot.

Denki presses his lips together, trying to contain his laughter as he videotapes your reflection. you're zooming into the intricate details of a Gojo fanart with his blue polo shirt completely unbuttoned and sweat glistens over his sculpted abs

"Babe what are you doing?" Denki asks, now zooming into your face after showing to the camera what you're zooming in to

"There's a mirror behind me, is there?" You ask, now feeling like a complete idiot as your boyfriend laughs, absolutely no sound coming out of his mouth as his mouth stretches widely

You face your phone screen at him, showing the fanart. "I'd cheat on you with Gojo."

Denki continues laughing, now out of breath. "And of course I'd be pissed cause why the hell did Gojo pick you and not me?"

#bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #bakugou hcs #bakugou headcanons #kirishima x you #kirishima x reader #kirishima x y/n #kirishima hcs #kirishima headcanon #iida x reader #iida x y/n #iida x you #iida hcs #iida headcanons #todoroki x you #todoroki x y/n #todoroki x reader #todoroki headcanons #todoroki hcs #denki x y/n #denki x you #denki x reader #denki hcs #denki headcanons #my hero academia imagines #mha headcanons #bnha headcanons #boku no hero headcanons #my hero headcanons