#also the type of person to call her bitchiness her actually 'being nice' and 'if she was ACTUALLY mad at/hated me i WOULD know' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

scuttling · 3 years

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(Not So) Casual Friday

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 4,456 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dad Bod Hotch (it's not a main component but he very much has the tummy here), Pining, Accidentally admitting attraction, Embarrassment, A little angst, Oral sex, Protected sex Summary: Your best friend Derek finds out about your feelings for Hotch and teases you mercilessly. You can manage it, though, until the first ever Casual Friday, when Hotch shows up to work in a black polo and jeans and you kind of ruin everything. Or maybe you don't? *Requested by anon Link to A03 or read below! “Okay, girlie, today’s the day,” Derek says when you set your bag and coffee cup on your desk on Monday morning. You shoot your best friend a tired smile and wonder for the—you’ve worked at the BAU for almost two years, so it’s probably the 500th time—for the 500th time why he has to be such a morning person when you would prefer not to have a conversation until at least 10 AM.

“Today’s the day for what?” you sigh, asking out of obligation, because it’s obvious that’s what he’s waiting for; he smiles, picks up your coffee and hands it to you, which must mean you sound bitchy. You take a grateful sip, close your eyes and exhale through your nose.

“For you to admit to me that you’re in love with Hotch.”

You spit out your coffee—only all over yourself, which is great, wouldn’t want to inconvenience Derek at all—and then cough so hard he has to thump on your back to help clear your airway.

It draws some attention; Hotch comes out of his office, takes a look at the two of you and probably regrets hiring the both of you, then walks down the stairs to make sure you’re okay.

“What happened? You’re wet,” he says a bit gruffly, looking at the coffee all over your chest and sleeves. You glare over at Derek, who’s clearly trying not to laugh.

“Derek made me spill my coffee.” You grab a handful of tissues off your desk and pat at the wet spot, trying to soak up the worst of it, but it’s not salvageable. You’ll have to change your shirt.

“And then you… choked on it?” Hotch asks, to clarify. Derek does laugh at that; the things Hotch is saying happen to have dual meanings, slightly sexual, and now that Derek knows—thinks he knows—about your thing for Hotch, it’s clear he finds it all so hilarious. He’s a twelve year old boy in a grown man’s body.

“Okay, I didn’t spill, I spit,” you correct, looking up at them, and Derek makes an exaggerated face of disapproval.

“Should have swallowed,” he says, trying to sound serious, and you shoot him an irritated look and reach out to slap him in the chest. Asshole.

“Do you need help getting cleaned up?” Hotch’s expression is kind, sweet, but you’d sooner die than have him blot coffee off of your boobs. It would be mortifying, especially in front of Derek.

“No, no, I think I’m okay. Thanks,” you add with a soft smile, and then you reach up and pull your sweater over your head, unzip your go bag, and search for another top.

For some reason, Hotch has a coughing fit scarily similar to the one you just had, and you turn to pat his back like Derek did for you.

“Are you alright?” you ask, looking up into his face, and he nods despite his watering eyes.

“Fine,” he croaks, and he leaves as quickly as he came. You sigh, because it’s not even nine and your day has already been so weird.

You’re wearing a tank top, and thankfully the coffee didn’t get through to that layer, so it’s quick and easy to throw another lightweight sweater over top of it; you ball up the wet one, shove it in the dirty clothes portion of your bag, zip it up and stash it under your desk. Derek looks like he’s having the best day of his life.

“You realize you just undressed in front of Hotch,” he says with a tone you don’t appreciate. You roll your eyes.

“I did not. I had a tank top on underneath.” You almost always wear an undershirt, because you’ve been a cop long enough to know that sometimes your clothes get torn or messed up in the line of duty, and you’re not trying to offer a free show while taking down an unsub. Derek wiggles his eyebrows, points at your chest.

“Yeah, one that put those little boobies on display. His eyes bulged out of his head like a cartoon character.” This time, you punch him in the arm, hard. It’s too goddamn early for this.

“Can you please shut up already? I don’t have a thing for Hotch.”

“Ah, I didn’t say you had a thing, I said you’re in love with him. And I have evidence; lots of it.” You tip your head back, groan, wondering what you did to deserve a best friend who is also such a pain in the ass, and it’s that moment that Hotch chooses to rejoin you; he looks a little flushed, probably from the coughing earlier.

“Uh. We have a case; I know not everyone is here yet, but you can head up to the briefing room, I’ll grab the others when they arrive.”

“Sure thing, sir,” you say easily, grabbing your tablet and what’s left of your coffee; you gesture for Derek and he follows, laughing and shaking his head. “Okay, what is it now? I’m so glad you find me entertaining today.”

“‘Sure thing, sir,’” he says with a high, breathy voice you assume is supposed to mimic yours. “You want his dick so bad.” You narrow your eyes at him as you head upstairs.

“Uh, because I was being respectful? I know that’s a foreign concept for you, the world’s biggest asshole, but you don’t have to read anything into it.” You take your usual seats at the table, pull up the note-taking app on your tablet, and Derek sits back, crosses his arms behind his head.

“Well you’re not calling me ‘sir’, and I’m the sexiest piece in the office, so it’s hard not to read into it.” You look over at him, elbow on the table, chin in the palm of your hand.

“Sexy is subjective, and you don’t do it for me, sorry to break it to you.” He scoffs, laughs, and you laugh too because you both know you see each other as brother and sister, buddies, and fellow former cops, and absolutely nothing else.

“Yeah, I get it, only Hotch does it for you; he’s not my type, but I can see how a young lady like yourself could be drawn to his brooding exterior.”

“I’m not drawn to his exterior!” you practically growl, and then you’re joined by Spencer and JJ.

“Good morning. What’s going on with you two?” JJ asks, loading up the monitors for the debriefing, her eyebrows raised.

“She’s in love with Hotch,” Derek says completely nonchalantly, and you rest your head on the table, on top of your forearms, and sigh.

“She’s what?” JJ’s whole face lights up, and you seriously regret everything.

“I’m not in love with anybody!” you mumble against your arms, and then you sit up, because you’re clearly going to have to defend yourself. “And I’d appreciate it if you quit saying that I am.”

“I told you I have evidence,” Derek reminds you, leaning back in his chair a little. One swift kick would have him toppling ass over tea kettle, but you’re too nice, even when he’s actively trying to ruin your life. “Shall I go over it while we wait?”

“I’ll be an objective third party,” Spencer says with a brief smile, and you sigh, wave your hand toward Derek.

“Alright, let’s hear it. I’m sure I have a perfectly reasonable explanation for whatever evidence you might think you have.” He grins like this is the moment he’s been waiting for, and you feel a little stupid for encouraging this.

“For one, you always look at him. When I’m delivering a profile, I notice you watching the locals, making sure they understand what we’re going over, since you're the queen of analyzing the micro expressions. But when Hotch is delivering a profile, your eyes are on him the whole time. Same goes for discussing theories on the jet; anyone else, and you’ve got your face in your tablet, scribbling notes, but you always look at him when he speaks.”

Your cheeks get hot. He’s a captivating speaker, is all, with that deep, velvety voice, and you can learn a lot from him, so you pay attention. That’s just being smart.

“Second, you tense when he gets close to you: not like you don’t want him to touch you, but like you’re halfway to jumping him already and trying to control it. I could probably put my hand in your pocket and you wouldn't even flinch, but if he leans over you to point at something you look like you’re about to cream your pants.”

“I have seen that, actually,” JJ offers, and you look over at her, betrayed. Sure, you get a whiff of his clean, crisp cologne, or feel the heat of him at your back, and your body reacts, reminds you that this is your boss and you’re at work and you can’t get turned on by the way he smells, but that’s actually a good thing, not an indicator of feelings or anything.

“Third, there’s something up with you and the gray suits. I can literally tell that he’s wearing one before I even see him, all because of the look on your face. It’s like you’re drunk on the gray suit.”

“Okay, that’s not true,” you say with a roll of your eyes—the gray suits are god tier, but there’s no way you’re that obvious—but it’s Spencer who speaks up, this time.

“You know, I have noticed that. Your pupils tend to be more dilated when his suit is gray or blue than when it’s black.” Fuck. You sigh.

“He barely ever wears the blue. It looks so good on him,” you murmur, and then you snap your eyes shut, cover your face with your hands. “Fuck. This is so embarrassing.”

“To be fair, we are profilers,” Derek says, leaning in to pat your back. “But also to be fair, he’s been a profiler longer than any of us, so if we know, he definitely knows.”

“Not helping, Derek,” you grind out, and then you’re joined by the rest of the team. Penelope takes the seat next to you, leans in with a worried tone of voice.

“Is everything okay?”

“She’s having a small crisis, but she’ll be fine,” JJ says with a smile, and you don’t miss the way Hotch looks you over when she says it, concern in his eyes. “Alright, so we’re headed to Arkansas…”

Later that morning, when you’ve been given your instructions—yours are heading to the crime scene with Emily and Derek—Hotch pulls you out into the hall, rests a gentle hand on your arm.

“Are you alright? JJ mentioned you were having a crisis earlier. This is the first time I’ve been able to get you alone, and I wanted to check on you.” You take a deep breath, look up at him, so handsome in a black suit, white shirt, green tie—he almost never wears a green tie, and you absently think it brings out the more golden tones of his eyes—and smile softly.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s really nothing. Personal stuff, and I’m dealing with it.” If by ‘dealing with it’ you mean you’ve been repressing it, shoving it down day in and day out until your feelings are choking you, then yeah, you’re dealing with it. “Thanks for checking, though, that’s kind of you.”

“Of course. I’m here to help in any way I can, if you need me.” Good god, do you need him, emotionally, physically, but that’s fantasy, and this, what he’s offering, is rooted in reality. Good things do happen, but not to you.

“Thanks.” Your voice is weak to your own ears, and he swallows, nods; you see Derek hovering by the door, waiting for you, and you pull away to join him, plastering a smile on your face. You don’t talk about it again until Friday, and at that point it’s extremely unavoidable.

It’s Casual Friday, newly implemented by the bureau as a way to boost morale, and while it doesn’t really excite you, because you’re fairly casual anyway, others take full advantage of it. Others, including Hotch.

He shows up to work wearing a black polo and dark jeans, his usual watch. It’s easily the most simplistic, basic outfit a man could decide to wear on Casual Friday, but this isn’t just a man, it’s Aaron fucking Hotchner, and so naturally, you lose your damn mind.

It wouldn’t be so bad if the damn polo didn’t fit him perfectly, tight across his shoulders and chest and the little tummy he has that makes you want to be under him so badly, your stomachs pressed together while he thrusts inside you, holding you tightly, his strong thighs working against yours…

“Hello, are you alive in there?” Emily asks, waving her hand in front of your face; the two of you, along with Derek, are in Penelope’s office for lunch while Rossi, Reid, and JJ are out of the office for a seminar. You blink, shake away your thoughts and hope and pray they don’t come back—but they’ll come back, they always do.

“She’s just short circuiting because of Hotch’s Casual Friday look,” Morgan says with a wink, sitting backward in his seat. “She’s been drooling so much I’ve had to follow her around with a mop to clean up after her.” You push your wheeled chair away from them with a groan, needing space and air and, potentially, a brain transplant. You’ve gotten nothing done all day long.

“Can you blame me? The man comes in here everyday, buttoned up tight, looking incredible in a suit and tie, and then he shows up in that black polo, all snug and hot and delicious, and you expect me not to freak out? You guys are lucky I didn’t pass out.” You’re met with silence, and you blink, confused, at your friends, but they’re all just kind of staring with looks of barely concealed humor. “What? It’s not like it’s a secret that I want to climb him like a tree.”

“Pretty sure it was a secret to him,” Penelope says, looking shocked, and you whip around in your chair to see Hotch standing in the doorway, wide-eyed and a little flushed.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I, uh—” He raises a hand, waves you off.

“It’s okay. No harm done; thank you, for the, uh. Compliment.” He steps forward, hands a manila folder to Penelope. “Thanks for taking care of these,” he says softly, and then, unsurprisingly, he gets the hell out of there. You wish you could disappear off the face of the Earth.

“Fuck, holy fuck,” you mutter when he’s gone, leaning forward with your head in your hands. “That’s it, I’m quitting. It’s been nice knowing you guys.”

“Okay, don’t be dramatic,” Derek says, and you look up to glare at him; he’s the one that started all this in the first place. You were fine, feelings tamped down and suppressed, until he brought it up and then told everyone you know.

“Don’t tell me not to be dramatic, Derek! This is all your fault. You never respect my boundaries, you never know when to just let me be, you always have to pick and pick until you wear me down. Maybe I had a reason for wanting to keep my feelings private, did you ever think of that?”

“I know you're upset,” Emily begins softly, because there’s some pretty thick tension between you and Derek now, but you stand up, push your chair across the room, and shake your head.

“I’m not upset, I’m fucking humiliated. I’m going home; let him know I’m sick, will you?” You exhale deeply, storm upstairs and grab your stuff and drive home with tears in your eyes. You’ve never been so embarrassed in your life, and add that to the absolute heartbreak you’re feeling? You’re just happy you make it to your apartment, so you can break down with cheesecake and a sappy, romantic comedy with a happy ending: those perfect, fictional worlds are pretty much the only place one is guaranteed. You are, as planned, hunkered down on the sofa in your softest pajamas, watching You’ve Got Mail and eating the center out of an entire cheesecake with a spoon when there’s a knock at your door. You groan, pick up your cheesecake tin, and walk over to it, fully expecting it to be Derek come to beg for forgiveness for ruining your life, so it’s no surprise you drop your dessert on the floor when it’s actually Hotch on the other side.

He looks down at the tin, then up at your face, cracks the barest hint of a smile.

“I thought you were sick; I brought soup,” he says, holding up a paper bag, and your heart thumps in your chest. You wipe a hand over your face, because you haven’t been exactly neat in your heartache cheesecake consumption, and then you kick the tin across the floor and invite him in, closing the door behind him.

“I thought it was obvious that I wasn’t actually sick, just… really embarrassed,” you say when he turns back to look at you. “I can’t believe you heard all that stuff I said… I’m really sorry I made you uncomfortable.” You take the bag from his hand and invite him to follow you into the kitchen, where you set it on the counter, lean against it. He comes close, but not so close you can’t function, which is good; your comfy pajamas are shorts and a loose tank top, so you feel a little exposed already.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” he says softly, and you frown, must have heard him wrong. He presses his fingertips against the counter, as if for support. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable. It was… unexpected,” he explains, “very unexpected, but I’m not uncomfortable.”

You flush hot, and you can feel the bad decision part of your brain switching on, warning bells ringing in your head.

Whatever you do next has the potential to be extremely stupid, and you would like to avoid that at all costs; you love your job, after all, despite how physically and emotionally exhausting it can be, and you love your team. Time to think with your upstairs brain only.

“That makes me feel a little better,” you say truthfully, and despite the pep talk you just gave yourself, you move closer to him like there’s an invisible magnetic force between you; you would imagine a guy like Hotch would step back, keep his distance, but he only cranes his neck a little so he can look down at you more easily.

God, he’s tall. And he smells good, and his face is perfect, and that goddamn polo...

“Good, I’m glad. I don’t want you to feel bad about this. I’m not uncomfortable, it’s not… it’s not unwanted.” You swallow audibly, looking up at him, wondering if he knows what he’s saying, what it sounds like.

“It’s not?” you ask, and it comes out breathy; he takes a small step closer to you, brushes his fingers over your arm, peers into your eyes.

“No, it’s not. I’ve been thinking of you, too; I know you know you’re beautiful, but you’re also so smart, and strong-willed, and a force to be reckoned with. I’m proud to have you on my team, and I’d be proud… to have you climb me like a tree.” He smiles again, just the barest hint of one, and you put your arms around him and pull him closer for a kiss.

One long, slow, perfect kiss turns into another, then another, and he presses your back against the counter, his hands on your face and your hands on his thick waist; you hum into the kiss, revel in the feel of his lips on yours, his tongue sweeping past them, and when you pull back for air it feels like there’s only one question that needs to be asked.

“Bedroom?” you breathe, and he nods, and you take his hand and pull him in that direction, pausing to kiss him several times before you get there. “You don’t happen to have a condom, do you?” you ask, breathless, guiding him to the bed, and he frowns, shakes his head.

“I didn’t want to seem presumptuous.” You grin at that, lean forward and kiss him, your fingers in his hair.

“I find it so hot that you even say presumptuous. I might have one here somewhere.” You open your nightstand, move around books and toys until you find a couple; you flip them over, checking to see if they’re expired, and offer him a couple options. “They’re still good, surprisingly. You can, uh. Choose the one that would work best.”

He looks them over, picks one and hands back the rest, and you throw them back in the drawer and slide into his lap, wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he says, holding your waist as you look down at him, completely in awe that this is happening. “But I want to clarify: if you’re looking for something casual, I don’t think we should go any further.” You inhale softly, surprised by his straightforwardness, and you lean in, kiss him slowly.

“I don’t want casual. I want to be with you.” His eyes are so brilliant, dark in the dim light of your bedroom, and he nods, presses his lips to yours and slides his hands beneath your top, guides it over your head. Then they move to your shorts, slipping them gently off your hips, and you stand so he can push them to the ground.

You’re both breathing heavily, a little rough, and you step between his legs, kiss him again, run your hands down his chest, closing your eyes with a sigh because you finally get to feel him after a year of just imagining what it would be like. After a beat, you open your eyes, look into his, smile.

“Really grateful for Casual Friday,” you whisper. “Otherwise you might never have found out I’m kind of in love with you.” You ease the polo over his head, drop it on the ground and encourage him to stand so you can take off his pants; he does, but before you can drop to your knees as planned, he takes your face in his hands, presses one soft kiss against your mouth.

“I’m more than kind of in love with you.” Oh, if that isn’t the greatest sentence your ears have ever heard… You wrap your arms around his neck, kiss a little more, forgetting that you planned to finish undressing him; when you remember, you make quick work of it, then have him lay back against the bed and settle between his legs.

You put your mouth on him because you want to, more than anything, and his hand drops to your hair, caressing you while you suck slowly, deeply, holding him with one hand and pressing against his stomach with the other. His moans are soft and gorgeous, his body tense beneath your hand, and you’d do this all night, but he murmurs your name, coaxes you up, puts his hands on your back as you settle against him.

“You’re so incredible. I never would have imagined I’d get this, get you,” he breathes, skimming his hands over your sides and hips, and you kiss softly, steamy and sweet.

“Me neither.” You lean up, make space for him to roll on the condom, and then press him inside; your breath hitches, and so does his, and you lay on top of him, chest to chest, stomach to stomach, arms around each other tightly while you move. “Hmm. Aaron,” you sigh, hair falling around him, and he groans, digs his fingertips into your hips.

“Sounds so perfect coming out of your mouth.” You smile, but it slips away when he surges up to kiss you, leans up so he’s sitting with you in his lap. He slides a broad hand up your back, wraps it around the nape of your neck, and pumps his hips up as you sink down, eliciting a series of soft, eager moans from the both of you.

“Feels like I’ve waited so long; I’ve never wanted someone as badly as I wanted you,” you tell him, chest heaving, and he brings you to him for a kiss, something a little rougher, less refined. He’s getting close.

“Never. You make me feel so much.” You reach back against his leg for support, work harder to bring him off, and when he comes he crushes his mouth against yours, delicious and more uncontrolled than you’ve ever seen him. He chants your name, so soft and sweet rolling off of his tongue, and then gets you on your back so he can press deeply inside.

You feel so incredibly full, panting beneath him, your hands on his waist and your feet on the backs of his thighs; his perfect face is inches from yours, all shallow breaths and decadent, passionate kisses, and when you climax you pull him closer, sigh, unravel completely in his embrace.

Maybe good things do happen after all. You hold each other and talk for a while, after a quick pitstop to the restroom, and then your stomach growls—understandably, since the only thing to fill it since lunch was that stupid cheesecake—and Hotch orders takeout on his phone from bed; god bless technology.

There’s a knock at the door twenty minutes later, and you know that’s quick for your favorite Thai place, but you’re not complaining because you’re officially starving. He offers to grab it, throws on his boxers and heads for the living room; after a few minutes, you wonder what’s taking so long, pull on your robe and go to check on him.

Hotch is talking to Derek, who is standing in your living room with a piece of cheesecake and a shit eating grin.

“I came with a peace offering, but now I think I’ll wait for a, ‘Thank you, Derek,’” he says, and you roll your eyes, stalk over and take the cheesecake out of his hands. You give it to Hotch, lean up to kiss Derek on the cheek, and push him toward the door.

“Thank you, Derek. Go away, Derek,” you say with a smile of your own, and he raises his palms and retreats down the hall, laughing as he goes.

This is just one more thing he’ll tease you mercilessly about, but this time the benefits outweigh the costs. Taglist ❤️: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch x female reader #hotch x reader #ask answered #anon #prompt #dad bod hotch

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myclownjunction · 3 years

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A loyal guard dog! Karl Heisenberg x Reader Part 1

It’s a Reader x Karl Heisenberg fanfic will be long, the reader can turn unto weredog (half-werewolf half-dog, also possesses healing abilities) Reader was a dog-like trained human since her childhood she was kidnapped and forced into death-fights with other scum. As the story goes her ex-boss was killed by Heisenberg and she automatically took his side and became his right-hand in the factory. (Inspired by the movie Unleashed aka Danny the dog)

WARNING!! GRAPHIC, SCENES, GORE, BLOOD...YOU’VE BEEN WARNED!

'These kids were getting on my nerves' y/n sighed as she took turns and twists fast knowing just like her owner the factory-like her five fingers on her arm, as there were trespassers her job was like any guard dog's job, catch, bite, fight and kill protecting the factory when your master was not around, the collar on your neck, (insert favorite color) was wrapped around your neck together with a dog tag that said whom you belonged to. The reason for the chase was few teens that decided to be brave to take something from the factory to show off in front of their friends had no idea that you were the guard dog of this place as they mocked you for being a girl you called for the Soldats to join you then they started to run and hide. But as always in any good horror movies, each of them was dumber than the other, 'What fear makes with people, right?' you thought, outrunning some Soldats to help them get them dead, you were in the 'Scavenger room' that's how you called it, it was littered with any metal junk you could think of I've been trained by my ex-master that got killed by Karl Heisenberg and he got excited to have someone as obedient as me and I was happy to change the shitbag of the owner I had! Walking as quiet as possible not to startle my prey I walked around a few steps and stopped sniffing the air I felt the sickening strong smell of a female perfume-making me smile as I started talking just like my owner taught me, "You know I fully understand you kid, you wanted to hype on being in constant danger, take a trophy and show off in front of your friends". I smiled and then dropped my smile continuing "You see your friends don't care to come and see you, to save you, they all left!" as I finished my sentence I heard the shuffling looking straight where the noise originated "It's not true, it's just ...t-they would leave me!" I chuckled at her stuttering she was terrified, "Come on kid, you know that it's true...I mean everyone gains some and loses some, let me get this deal for you! You come out and we talk normally and then my master shall decide your faith! It's fairer than to hurt yourself..." I paused licking my sharp fangs and smiled tasting my victory "...you wouldn't want it, right? You seem like a nice kid so how about you come out and we talk!?" I heard silence for few moments then a rather cute girl came out as I smiled and showed her to come closer walking behind her I took the metal chair that was sitting nearby and guided towards her telling her "Come on now take a seat, it's going to be a long talk!" and turned a bit around as she stood there with her nose higher than Lady Dimitrescu's size 'Ohh so we're going to be bitchy, I know perfectly how to be one too!' I said to myself as I turned around my eyes glowing yellow "I said SIT!" pushing her to the chair as she fell onto it holding for her dear life as I proceeded to smile as soft as possible not scaring her with my fangs. "You see kiddo, there are different types of dogs, right?" I looked at her and she nodded for me to continue as she almost becomes one with the poor stool

"So as a guard dog, my responsibilities go from protecting my owner to protect his property, right?... Right! A good dog is a dog that follows its master's rules and then you drop in like a shittone of scarp on my head, causing havoc in the factory that I...PROTECT!" she gulped audibly and then fired up a question that I knew will drop from her mouth. "You don't look like a dog to me and these things what are they?" she practically screeched making me flinch and let out a growl as she was scared and it made me madder, I jumped and snarled in front of her face showing my fangs to her making her flinch and start crying as I continued "I.AM.A.DOG!!" breathing heavily I was just like Heisenberg, blowing the fuse for the least stupid thing or worse stupid person "I am modified to be a dog I was taken away as a kid and I am LOYAL to my master!" she whined and looked away from my face, continuing I said "I didn't ask for this but here we are! You dropping on my head the soldats running around like moronic idiots and your friends...And I badly want to end you up but I cannot without my master's permission." She was trembling as I felt a shift in the air Heisenberg was home I was absolutely happy and delighted that he's finally back "What the actual hell did happen here Y/N? It looks like a frikin hurricane went through here and...?" he walked closer and seeing me as I bowed my head as a sign of respect and he turned the nod his smile growing up even more as he removed his hammer and slammed it into the closest wall "Well, well, well what do we have here, my loyal dog has caught a trespassing rascal!" he smiled his charming smile looking at the girl up and down, he tilted his head "Was she the only one that caused the havoc in my factory?!" I nodded my head and said, "They were greeted warmly Sir, and also taken care of!" I heard him chuckle "So doll I'm gonna let you go and of course there's one but in this! So you like games...I presume, yes!" he looked at me and winked I knew what he had in his mind a chase that never ended well for the pray I smiled and nodded "It's a simple game you'll try to find the exit as I count from 10 and if you outrun my Good girl, you'll be free and run away far away, far away!" as he walked towards the girl that had the face that you need to see, it was disgust, revoltingly consumed by fear. I stood on end tasting the chase I could transform thankfully to Karl, he helped me with the modification making me even more agile, faster and all the senses sharpened by 10, maybe even I was more weredog, but it didn't matter I was waiting for the command! Then I heard her standing "You're crazy, both of you!! You are two twisted creatures that don't have a heart...you want to kill me...maybe I look dumb but I'm not I know you killed my friends! You're disgusting...BOTH of you!!!" she screeched making Heisenberg not happy at all the silence was so thick you could slice it with a knife, she stood terrified and she understood her gravely mistake as Heisenberg summoned his hammer and his smile dropped "Let's see what are you made of doll!" he raised his hammer and slammed right in front her feet making her scream and run away "10,9.." I started shifting turning and ready to run after her, baring my teeth I waited for his sign, "8,7 you better run faster doll my sweet y/n is fast enough to get cha!" as we heard her heading to the lowest levels 'What a stupid idiotic, person' I thought as Heisenberg continued "6,5,4...3" I was ready to spring forward as he smiled victoriously "2 I'm sorry kiddo but 1, it's SHOW TIME! Now let me get this straight girlie, we're not the only residents in this factory so if you see someone or rather somethig...You better run!" he laughed I knew that he was talking to her though the com of the radio. He turned to me holding my muzzle and smiled "Let's do it kid I want you to give her a good chase just like with the others and let her regret bringing her excuse of an ass in here, make me a proud puppy and you'll get big reward today" he winked as he scratched my ears "FETCH!". I bolted from my place picking up the smell immediately as I raced through the factory I picked up the smell and started removing pieces from the metal furniture that was in my way I felt it then...it was a trap! The heavy metal of the crane fell on top of me earning a yelp and whine as it trapped me under its weight I heard a maniacal laugh "You're but an excuse of a dog, your master shall die and pay for everything as for how am I going to do this it doesn't matter I hope you die stupid disgusting mutt!" she walked away as I tried to crawl from underneath the metal part I felt it lift and give me way out as I crawled I felt my bones and joints snapping back in place I was healing that was one of my many bonuses. I leat out the most terrific roar shaking the factory the come came to live "Come on sugar, daddy believes in you tear that bitch apart!" I howled and raced through the fabric searching for her and I saw her almost getting out of the building I made a shortcut and jumped in front of her snarling and baring my teeth as a warning sign but she screeched "You damned mutt, how did you survive the trap, nothing this will end you!" she took out a gun making me even madder and aimed it at me "Die you disgusting creature!" there was a whine and a roar I snapped my jaws around her neck tearing it to sherds,splattering blood everwhere, the last thing I remebered the gurling sounds and thum and them Heisenbergs' screaming my name as the adrenaline pumped through me I didn't felt how many bullets I got from this cunt but everything I remember is thudding of my heart, Heisenbergs’ pleads and curses to stay alive and then I was wrapped into darkness, feeling only how someone pickd me up and carriedn me somewhere... To Be continued...

#karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #karlheisenberg #karl heisenberg x you #karlheisenbergxreader #heisenberg x reader #re8 heisenberg #kalr heisenberg x you #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #karl heisenberg resident evil #resident evil fanfic #my fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #heisenberg imagine #A loyal guard dog fanfic #part 1

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heytherejulietx · 3 years

Text

The Office - Bughead

Masterlists

Requests open (ONLY for Bughead)!

Read on AO3 here!

Notes - Ahh I’m so excited to post this one! This fic is for an April writing challenge by @writers-chateau using the prompt “office au”. This is based on an actual episode of the show “The Office” - season 6 episode 17 “The Delivery”. I’m so happy with how this turned out - this is fuelling my obsession with the show and bughead amazingly. Also thank you to @andmybelovedneitherdoyou for helping me out with some of the characters in this and beta reading it for me, I love you tons! Some characters and lines are taken from the show so not all of this fic is my original content!

Warnings - Pregnancy / labour, mentions of pain.

Word count - 5k.

Riverdale tag list - @bucky-j-barnes @adorably-sweet-hufflepuff @kpopgirlbtssvt @booksmusicteaandanimals @happy-puff @cheryllclayton @jesso80 @dietbreadloaf @thebluetint @hppygmc8 @lilireinhartsimp @camiczzzz @bitchy-broken @crazyninjalight @luella-cane @bc-jh22

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“Good afternoon, I just wanted to check and see if there was anything you needed before I went on my maternity leave since I won’t be here for a while,” Betty leaned back in her seat as she spoke, her free hand resting over her eight months pregnant stomach. She should have been on maternity leave already for a few weeks now, especially considering how far along she was in her pregnancy, but Betty was stubborn and had refused to only until she really had to. Her and Jughead needed the money from two incomes, especially with a baby on the way, and although Jughead had tried to get her to take it sooner, there was no stopping Betty once she was determined to do something. So at almost eight and a half months pregnant she was still working her office job, selling printers, paper, and other stationery supplies. “Yeah, I’m having a baby. Thank you, you're so kind,” The blonde smiled at the nice comment that the customer had left, scribbling down a note on her pink post-its as they continued. “Great, I’ll type up your order for you now. Thank you, have a nice day.”

“Wait a minute, you can’t do that,” Betty sighed as she put the phone down and looked across her desk, where Bret was seated opposite her. “You cannot exploit your baby for sales.”

“Hey, did I tell you we’re having a baby?” Jughead’s voice cut in from where he was sat on Betty’s left in the middle of herself and Bret speaking with a customer, shooting a wink in the latter’s direction when he started glaring at him.

“Hey, stop that Jones.” He snapped.

“Bret, there is nothing bad about talking about your life. People like that kind of stuff-” Betty started, before she winced and squeezed her eyes shut as her right hand pressed into her side.

Jughead looked up over at his wife’s desk with a small concerned frown, a crease forming in between his eyebrows when seeing the pain she was in. Betty had been having contractions since the morning, though since they were irregular and far apart, they had agreed to wait until they were seven minutes apart before going to the hospital. Their insurance company only covered two nights there so they were trying to hold off until midnight, but seven minutes apart was when they were going if she got there before midnight.

“See? Even your baby hates it. They aren't even born yet and you’re using them for your own personal gain. How disgusting.” Bret scoffed, and Jughead just shook his head at him as he wheeled his chair closer to Betty around the corner of the desk.

“You try giving birth to a baby then, Bret.” Betty shot back towards him once the contraction had pretty much passed, gently squeezing her husband's hand when it had been offered to her.

“Fine, easy, my hips are big enough for an easy birth anyways. Maybe that’s why you’re already so bad, you’re too small.” Bret rolled his eyes.

“Why don’t you have a baby then if you’d be so great at it,” Jughead proposed, somehow managing to keep himself composed through the ridiculous proposal. “Then you could use your own baby for sales.” He shrugged before he leaned back closer to Betty to check that she was okay, leaving Bret staring into the distance as if he was actually considering the idea.

“So, what are you thinking about baby names? I’m dying to know.” Veronica enquired with a smile as she leaned against Betty’s desk, beside where the woman herself was seated in her chair.

As silly as it sounded she had been trying to avoid anything that was even rumoured to induce labour; so no spicy food, no sex (although that wasn’t really a problem in the office - at least not recently), and no walking around unless she really had to. Jughead had offered to wheel her around in her desk chair, but after a recent incident with a shopping cart and a cast on Archie’s arm she decided against it and declined his offer.

“Well, if it’s a boy then he’ll be taking up Jughead’s name as the fourth,” Betty smiled when she caught Jughead winking at her from across the desk, deciding to ignore the sarcastic fake yawn that Veronica let out. “And if it’s a girl then we’re thinking, oh-” She cut herself off with a quiet groan, her hands coming around her stomach as she stiffened in her seat. She felt Veronica’s hand on her arm soothingly, and just as she heard her husband start to speak beside her, his voice was soon drowned out by their excited boss making his way out of his office.

“Oh oh! Contraptions she’s contrapting!” Reggie’s voice rang through the office loudly, very clearly excited that Betty’s baby was slowly but surely on the way.

Reggie Mantle was a strange man. For such a well put together man; slicked back hair, expensive looking suits, and the smoothest talk when he needed to sort a business deal - he was honestly quite far from that. To everyone in the office who got to see Reggie outside of formal business and meetings; he was a loud, childish, obnoxious, idiot. To put it politely. He had a good heart, but he either didn’t use it enough or went too far. When it came to Betty and Jughead’s baby, he was definitely pushing it too far.

“Okay!” He clapped, standing in front of the entire office as he grinned. “Someone call an ambulance, grab the go bag. It’s hospital time let’s go!”

“Why do you have a go bag-” Betty started before she was cut off.

“Okay, calm down Reggie,” Jughead shook his head a little, lifting a hand. “We aren’t going to the hospital yet, we’re trying to wait until midnight because of our stupid HMO.”

“Right, of course, Betty cross your legs and keep ‘em in there.” Reggie pointed at her and earned an irritated look in return from Betty as her contraction started passing.

“Yeah sure, I’ll do just that.” Betty muttered sarcastically with a sigh as she managed to relax back in her seat.

Veronica usually had the best chair in the office - she had lied to corporate about some back issues just to get an expensive though very comfortable chair out of them, compared to the cheap and uncomfortable ones that everyone else in the office had - though through the last week of work she had been letting Betty use it to make sure she was comfortable. She could handle an uncomfortable chair for a week. Just about, anyways.

As Bret distracted Reggie with something that led the two to retreat into his office and Veronica left to go and find Archie, Jughead wheeled his chair around the desk again to be beside Betty and gently took her hand.

“Are you sure you don’t want to just go in now?” He asked as he gently ran his thumb across her knuckles.

“No, no I’m fine,” Betty smiled and shook her head as she gently squeezed her husband’s hand. “When they’re seven minutes apart then we’ll go. I really wanna try and make it until twelve, Jug.”

“Okay, as soon as they’re seven minutes apart then we go.” Jughead gently squeezed her hand back and pressed a kiss to her lips for a moment, matching her smile with his own once he had pulled away before he wheeled back to his own seat. Of course he was worried about her, he hated how much pain she had to go through for their baby to come, but he was happy that they would be going to the hospital soon to have their baby - whether it was before midnight or not.

“Alright, seven minutes,” Jughead clapped his hands together as he walked over to Betty’s desk where she was sat with a grimace across her features as she gripped the arm rests of her chair, breathing out through her teeth. “Couldn’t quite make it to midnight but that’s okay, we’ll just get you settled at home after. Let me just grab the bag and then we’ll go.” He gently rested his hand on her arm before he turned to leave, though stopped when her hand reached out to grab his arm.

“No no, slow down Jug. I’m okay we don’t have to go yet.” Betty breathed out, and Jughead couldn’t help but frown in confusion and concern.

“What? Betty, no, we need to go.” He shook his head with a frown, becoming increasingly worried that they would be putting it off for too long. Jughead was well aware of how stubborn Betty could be, especially over something like their insurance, but he really didn’t think that it was such a big deal that they wouldn’t get as much time in the hospital as they had liked. He would just settle Betty comfortably in their bedroom when they got home with the bassinet for the baby. He didn’t really get why it was such a big deal to stay at the hospital.

“No, Jug, we can wait a little longer. It’s okay,” She managed to smile a little once her contraction had passed, reaching out to gently take his hand with a gentle squeeze. “The doctor said anywhere between five to seven minutes. We’ve still got time.”

Jughead stared at her for a moment before he sighed and reluctantly gave in, knowing there wasn’t any persuading Betty once she was being stubborn about something. If there was anything he had learnt about his wife after being with her for a good couple of years, it was that she was even more stubborn than him. And that was saying something.

“Fine,” Jughead sighed and nodded. “Fine, we’ll leave at five minutes. But no later, okay? I’m serious, Betty.”

“Of course. Five minutes.” Betty smiled.

Jughead exhaled and nodded as he squeezed her hand again before he sat back in his seat at his desk beside hers, trying to focus back on his work. But he could barely pay attention, glancing back at his wife every few minutes; and practically staring at her with a frown when she had another contraction that left her wincing as she leaned back in her seat.

“Stop staring at me,” Betty breathed out as she met his gaze, her hands cradling her enlarged belly. “I’m fine don’t worry.”

“Okay crazy,” Jughead scoffed as he rolled his eyes. “I think I have some better things to do with my day than worry about you. Like sell printers. Well, now ‘till Friday; twenty percent off all toner cartridges. That’s a big deal. While we’re on the subject why don’t I just run you down to the hospital?”

“Nice try,” Betty shot a finger gun at him, smiling a little more as her husband shook his head irritably. “Five minutes apart, sweetie.”

“Yeah five minutes apart I know.” Jughead grumbled in annoyance, the tapping of his fingers against his keyboard becoming harsher and louder as he grew more irritated.

“Hey, guys,” Archie wheeled over on his seat from across the office, one hand on his arm rest as the other - which was still in a cast - rested in his lap. “Word of advice, speaking as a former baby. Don’t get too hung up on baby names. I was named Walter Jr. named after my great grandfather, until I was about six or so when my cousin was born, and my family changed their mind. They thought my cousin better exemplified the Walter Jr. name so they gave it to him, and I was renamed Archibald out of a baby names book from like the eighteenth century. How cool is that?”

Betty and Jughead blinked and glanced at each other for a moment, trying to process what Archie had just told them, before Jughead nodded as he turned to face him again. “Thanks, Arch. We’ll be careful about it.” He nodded, and Archie grinned at him as he nodded to.

“Oh my god, Betty,” Veronica gasped as she came over, standing beside Archie as she rested her hand over her chest. “You are such a strong and brave woman. Did you know that you could be in labour for like twenty hours? That’s twenty hours of pain like this-“

“Veronica?” Jughead cleared his throat.

“-and your hair and teeth can fall out, like you could lose them all-“

“Veronica.” Jughead repeated a little firmer.

“-and the baby can get stuck and hurt and you can like pass out and bleed really bad-“

“Thank you Veronica for letting us know!” Jughead spoke loudly, causing Veronica to jump and shut up immediately. “Don’t you guys have some work to do?” He shot an irritated glare towards her and Archie, which caused them to just nod before they retreated to their own desks. He looked back at Betty and frowned when he saw her scared expression, reaching across the desk to take her hand. “Hey, that’s not gonna happen with us. You’re already pretty far along. Far enough along to get going already-“

“Jug it’s not happening.” Betty told him, and he rolled his eyes, but frowned when she groaned quietly and clutched at her belly again.

“Okay, baby time!” Reggie stepped out of his office and clapped his hands, a grin over his expression as he walked over towards Betty and Jughead’s desk.

“No, we aren’t going yet.” Betty got out through gritted teeth, and Jughead just sighed as he looked at her, his bottom lip being brought between his teeth for a moment as he started to get a little frustrated.

“Okay, well do you want a distraction to keep you from thinking about it?” Reggie asked, and Jughead practically shot daggers at him as his eye twitched slightly in annoyance.

“Actually, Reggie-“

“Yes please.” Betty cut Jughead off, smiling at Reggie some as Jughead gripped the armrest of his chair tight enough for his fingers to dent the cheap rubber covering it.

“Okay great. Uhm, Jughead and Veronica will you guys go in the break room with her?” Reggie asked as he gestured to Betty, and Jughead had to clamp his jaw to keep from expressing how irritated he was as he stood up and took her arms to help her up and to walk her to the break room along with Veronica.

“Betty, I have this brilliant movie on my laptop we can watch together since Archie doesn’t want to watch it with me. It’s got Leonardo DiCaprio in it; total bae, I know.” Veronica grinned as herself and Jughead helped Betty into one of the seats in the break room beside the many vending machines they had in there.

Once Betty had smiled and nodded Veronica left to get her laptop from her desk, leaving Betty and Jughead alone as he moved to sit beside her.

“You’re annoyingly stubborn, you know that?” He asked her, and she just fondly shook her head as she took his hand.

“You still love me though.” She told him with a smile as she leaned over to kiss his cheek.

Jughead chose to sit with Betty and Veronica to watch the movie, just to make sure Betty was okay and to sit with her through the contractions. At some point Reggie had joined them, which only made Jughead more irritated at his attempt to talk Betty through her contractions, which we’re just extremely annoying.

“Alright, you’re at six minutes apart, another like seventy-five contractions and you’re going to be there.” Reggie told Betty with a grin, earning an irritated look from the couple and a sharp “shh!“ from Veronica who was extremely interested in the movie.

“Six minutes is close enough to five. You know what? I’m just going to call Doctor Keller he’ll know what to do.” Jughead stood up, extremely worried and irritated as he let go of Betty’s hand to grab his cell phone out of his pocket.

“Jug-“

“No Betty we should probably call-“

“Honey we don’t even need to go yet-“

“Actually yes I think we do-“

“Guys can you shut up I’m still watching this movie.”

“Yeah Jug you’re really distracting me from my distraction right now. Sweetie, I love you, but I’m trying to watch this movie.” Betty spoke a little louder over Jughead’s worried rambling, causing his jaw to clench and his eye to twitch in irritation again as he looked at his wife. “Why don’t you try and go do some work?”

“Great,” Jughead nodded with a sarcastic smile. “Of course. I’m sorry for worrying about my wife who’s going into labour.” He huffed as he walked out of the break room, leaving Betty with Veronica and Reggie to watch the movie.

Though instead of going back to his desk he walked straight past it and towards the exit of the office, ignoring Bret’s complaint that he wasn’t working as he quickly went down the stairs and left the building to head towards his car. He unlocked it and got inside, rooting around in one of the bags they kept in the back seat until he found what he was looking for; four pregnancy books.

“Five to seven minutes,” Jughead mumbled as he flipped through the first book, before he tossed it into the back seat and opened the next one. “Five to seven minutes,” He repeated, the next book being thrown. “Six minutes; different, but not really,” He huffed before he opened the next one. “Five to seven minutes.” He groaned and dropped his head down to rest on the steering wheel, though flinched and sat back up when he had accidentally beeped the car horn.

He sat down there on his own for a good five minutes before he heard a light tapping on the car window, and looked up to see Betty stood there. She motioned for him to roll down the car window and he quickly did so, leaning his arm on the door of the car afterwards.

“Hey,” She smiled. “I’m not going to get into the car because I know you’ll try and drive me to the hospital.”

“Ah, you know me too well.” Jughead nodded, fiddling with his tie as he looked up at his wife.

“Jug?”

“Hm?”

“Everything is fine, okay?” Betty smiled reassuringly. “I’m okay, we still have time, she isn't coming for a while yet.”

Jughead froze as Betty did, his mouth dropping open slightly as he met her gaze. “She?” He whispered.

“Oh god I’m sorry,” Betty clamped her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide. “I called the doctor last week, I just couldn’t wait. Are you mad?”

“Mad?” Jughead’s voice broke as he smiled uncontrollably, reaching his hand out of the car to grasp his wife’s gently. “How could I be mad? We’re having a little girl,” He nodded a little as his vision grew slightly blurry, tears collecting along his waterline. “Really?” He asked, and was met with a teary smile from his wife that matched his own as she giggled.

“Yeah,” Betty smiled brightly. “We’re having a baby girl.”

Jughead let out a light laugh and nodded, his smile only widening as he lifted his hand to run over his eyes before he leaned out of the car enough to hug Betty, pressing a kiss against her shoulder. Originally he had wanted to wait until the baby was born to find out the gender. He had refused multiple times when the doctor had asked, not wanting to find out prematurely, but he couldn’t even be the slightest bit unhappy that Betty had let it slip early, the emotions that were running through him in that moment were indescribable; he couldn’t wait to find out how much better it would feel once the baby was born. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Jug.” Betty whispered, gently hugging him back before she let him go so he could lean back into the car.

“Okay, I’m gonna go back upstairs, okay?”

“Okay.” Jughead nodded and smiled as he gave her a once over, but paused when he saw what she was wearing. Before he had left the office she was in her usual attire; a skirt and a jumper. But now she was wearing a pair of maternity leggings and one of his hoodies, an outfit he knew that she kept in the office just in case. “Did you change outfits?”

“Oh yeah, my water broke so I had to.” Betty shrugged before she turned to go back into the office.

“Oh right.” Jughead nodded as he sat back in his seat, still thinking about the baby more than anything else. Though once he had processed what Betty said he sat up and looked over at her just as she was walking back inside. “Wait what?”

Jughead had been pacing outside of the break room where Betty was with Reggie for what felt like hours, though in reality it couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes. He knew if he was in there then he would just stress Betty out more with his (rational) worrying, so he opted to stand outside. Though it was definitely worse out there; having to listen to Betty in pain and Reggie’s annoying talks through it was really just setting him even more on edge.

“Okay, that’s fine, almost made it to midnight but you should probably go to the hospital now.” Reggie was saying as Betty groaned again. “Too bad you didn’t have sex like… seven and a half hours later. But you had to have the afternoon delight, I understand, sometimes you just have to go for it.”

“N-no, I’m fine, the doctor said it’s s-still considered a minor contraction as long as I can still talk through it-” Betty barely forced the words out shakily before she groaned, causing Jughead to immediately walk into the room with a frown.

“Okay, Betty we really should go.”

“No, it’s fine,” Betty started as Jughead walked over to her, shaking her head. “That wasn’t even the worst of them, no-” She started rambling as Jughead took one of her arms and Reggie took the other to try and get her out of the seat.

“Betty come on.”

“No, no Jug it’s fine-”

“We should really go now-”

Everyone started talking at once as the men tried their hardest to pull a struggling Betty out of the seat before she scowled and shook her head harshly. “No!” She yelled, tugging her arms away harsh enough for them both to let go of her. “No! No I am not going yet! I’m not going okay? I’m not going because I can’t do this I don’t think I can do this.” Betty’s voice broke as she started crying, her lip trembling as her vision blurred with unshed tears.

Jughead’s gaze softened as he looked at her, a frown curving his lips downwards as her voice filled him with sadness and sympathy for his wife.

“Are you kidding me?” He asked softly as he crouched in front of her chair, taking one of her trembling hands in his as she sniffled in front of him. “Betty, you are the strongest person I know. If anybody can do this then you can, okay?” Jughead asked softly, and she nodded tearily in response. “I’m scared, love, I’m so scared. But this little girl is going to be the luckiest baby out there because she has the best mother in the whole damn world.”

“You’re having a girl? Really? Guys, I wanted to be surprised what the hell?” Reggie complained from across the room.

Jughead only rolled his eyes and chose to ignore him as he turned back to Betty. “Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do; we’re going to get our bag, go down to the car and drive to the hospital, and then we’ll have our beautiful baby girl. Okay?” Jughead squeezed her hand when she nodded and smiled as he stood up to kiss her forehead softly.

“Thank’s Jug.” Betty whispered as she looked at her husband.

Jughead nodded before he turned to look at Reggie, clearing his throat. “How’re we doing on contractions?”

“Two minutes.”

“Two- two minutes?” Jughead asked, a glare quickly being sent to Reggie as frustration quickly bubbled up inside of him. “I thought I said to let me know at five minutes- what good is two minutes that’s too late two minutes doesn’t help us! What happened to four and three minutes huh?” Jughead started rambling as he helped Betty out of her seat who was starting to get worked up again.

“Jug we can still drive-” Betty started, stopping his rambling for a moment, before she gasped and almost fell over at the intensity of her next contraction, groaning as she gripped onto Jughead’s hand tightly.

Jughead frowned and held her up, his free hand rubbing her back as she started crying again. Reggie, who was clearly flustered and not too sure what to do, grabbed Betty’s jacket from the chair and helped Jughead lead Betty out of the room as her contraction started to past.

“It’s go time people!” Reggie yelled across the office, letting Jughead hold Betty up completely as he walked out in front of the whole office. “Veronica call an ambulance!”

“No, ambulances are for emergencies only,” Bret spoke up with a glare. “You call an ambulance I call the cops.”

“We’re driving it’s fine,” Jughead spoke up as he carefully helped Betty sit down at her desk chair, gently pressing a kiss to the crown of her head in hopes of keeping her calm. “I’m just going to grab the bag and we can go, okay?” He asked softly and Betty nodded as she gave him a tearful smile. “Okay.” He gave her arm one last squeeze as he quickly jumped up and practically ran across the office to where they were keeping the bag in one of the cabinets in the kitchen, his heart racing a million miles an hour in the panic and excitement (though mostly panic) that their baby was on the way very soon.

By the time he was back in the main office area everyone was in a panic: Reggie was running around packing his own go bag for some reason, Veronica was squealing excitedly about getting to meet her godchild (they had picked her as the baby’s godmother a few weeks ago and she still hadn’t gotten over it), and even Bret was up and out of his seat, talking to Reggie quickly.

“Okay, we’re ready,” Jughead tried to smile as reassuring as he could towards his wife as he walked back over to her seat with the bag over his shoulders, taking her hands to help her stand up. “Are you good to go-”

“This is ridiculous,” Bret cut him off as he walked over. “Has anyone even checked how dilated she is yet?” As he spoke he pulled out a tape measure and kneeled on the floor in front of Betty.

“Bret!” Jughead and Betty gasped at the same time as he opened the tape measure.

“Bret are you serious?” Reggie scoffed as he walked over. “Give it to Jughead that’s his job.”

As Bret held the tape measure up to give it to Jughead he rolled his eyes and pushed it away, instead moving his hands to his pockets frantically as he started to just freak out further.

“Has anyone seen my keys- where are my keys?” He shouted, before he reached into his trouser pockets and sighed as he pulled them out. “Got them.”

As he started leading Betty out of the room he managed a genuine smile as everyone in the office started shouting goodbye and good luck, and he felt a little relieved when he saw Betty was smiling too. He gave everyone a big wave before he took both of her hands again and led her out of the room and into the elevator so that they could leave.

The whole drive there Jughead kept her hand in his free one, letting her squeeze it as tightly as she needed through contractions and constantly ran his thumb over her knuckles to try and soothe her somewhat. He truthfully was terrified, but wanted to get Betty there as calmly as possible. He didn’t have time to panic about it, as much as he wanted to, he just had to settle with the constant thumping of his heart until they pulled into the hospital and he ran out to grab her a wheelchair.

“We’re here now, okay? Everything is going to go perfect, Betty. We’re going to meet our baby girl soon.” Jughead assured her as he helped her into the wheelchair with a kiss to her forehead.

“I love you, Jug.” Betty smiled as she reached back to take his hand as he wheeled her to the door.

“I love you, too.” He smiled.

There were two doctors at the door waiting, and as they had offered to help her inside Jughead squeezed her hand before he let it go. “I’m just going to park the car, I promise I’ll be back in a minute.” He told her as one of the doctors started wheeling her inside, and smiled at her until he couldn’t see her anymore.

Jughead got back in the car and took a few minutes to find a parking space, though once he had he sat in the car for a minute longer than needed. His fingers reached up to brush along the edge of the scan photo that was clipped to the mirror of the car, an easy smile sweeping across his lips as it took everything inside of him to not get emotional again. Even though he was still panicked and worried and terrified, he couldn’t help but take a moment to smile and breathe.

He was simply excited to meet their little girl, and that would be enough to keep him smiling forever if he could.

#amber’s writing #fyeahbughead #bugheadcentral #we april 2021 #riverdale #bughead #bughead au #bughead one shot #bughead fanfiction #bughead fluff #bughead parents #bughead fic #bettycooper #betty cooper #jughead #jugheadjones #jughead jones #betty cooper x jughead jones #jughead jones x betty cooper

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fatbottombucky · 4 years

Text

Three’s Company *Ransom Drysdale x Reader*

Summary: M!Reader’s girlfriend, Ella, wants a threesome. After discovering it’s going to be with another dude you set some ground rules, a clear rule being “no gay shit!”. Despite not being gay, yourself and Ransom find yourselves intently wanting Ella to be gone throughout the fucking.

Pairings: Male!Reader x Female Original Character/ Ransom Drysdale x Male!Reader / Ransom Drysdale x Female Original Character

Rating: [+18] Explicit

Warnings: Internal homophobia. Threesome shenanigans, female and male oral-giving and receiving. degrading talk. Swear words. Two men wanting to fuck one another, but they can’t cause of their internal homophobia.

Word Count: 2854

Note: There’s nothing against gays in this, lmao I am gay. It’s just mostly reader and ransom wanting to fuck but being like “we shouldn’t cause we’re straight! But I am going to look directly into his eyes as this girl sits on my dick!”

“When you said threesome I expected another female to be joining us,” you exasperated.

It was only a week ago when your girlfriend of eight months had propositioned you with the idea of a threesome. It had caught you off guard, nonetheless you agreed wholeheartedly. You weren’t a guy to shy away from sex adventures, you’ve seen and done plenty with women.

It’s what made Daniella, or Ella to you, so interested in you. You aren’t exactly in her social class, she comes from old money and has a trust fund, whereas you come from- well, no money and you work everyday of your life just to scrape by. You’ve often had the thought she’s only with you to rebel against her family, bringing you along to social gatherings to cause a fuss. It’s whatever. She’s beautiful and nice, so you’re willing to go along because, hey, you’re not alone then.

What caught you off guard was the third member she wanted, a male. You expected one of her high-class girlfriends, they’ve always had a keen interest in your relationship with Ella. Wondering why she’d be with you and for so long.

“Hell, no.” Ella grimaces like the thought of kissing another girl is repulsive, “I’d prefer to have another guy having their way with me.”

There’s a glint in her eyes, a playfulness. Her fluttering lashes normally work on you but not this time.

You’re apprehensive. The photo of the man in question serves him well; sharp jawline, piercing blue eyes and a wicked smirk, he oozes some sinful confidence that you severely lack. Who even is this guy? Where did she even meet him? Had this guy been the reason all along for the threesome to be brought up?

“Ransom Drysdale,” Ella smirks and flicks her eyes back to her phone, the picture still blindly on display. You almost snap the steering wheel off, deciding to focus on driving her Audi through the bustling New York streets. “He’s in New York right now, our families know one another and I’ve always wondered if the rumours are true about him.”

Great.

This guy has a reputation and she’s been thinking about it.

“I don’t know how I feel about another guy fucking you,” you somehow get out and the way she snaps her head to you, well this is going to be a big L in your books. “Or being with a guy in this setting, so what? I thought threesomes are where we all participate but I don’t wanna be with some guy like that.”

Ella snorts, she’s laughing at you. “How would a girl be any different?”

“I don’t know, Ella, it just would be different.”

“That’s so pathetic,” you roll your eyes and just stare at the road ahead, “You don’t have to do anything with him and anything I do with him you’ll be there. In fact, you can say right now if there’s anything you don’t want to happen. I just want two dicks, that’s all.”

There’s a beat of silence. “Besides Ransom isn’t gay, so he won’t even go near you like that.”

“This is so bizarre,” you muttered and shifted in your seat beside Ella. The restaurant was fancy, super expensive and elite. You had already downed half a glass of red wine-of which you expected cost more than the suit you were wearing. “Why are we getting dinner with him?”

Ella snickered and rolled her eyes. “Good manners, babe,” voice sweet as she looks at you.

You’d done some Googling on Drysdale when you got back to the hotel earlier. Whole family is filthy rich due to his grandfather, Harlan, famous murder-mystery writer. You haven’t read any of his books because books are commitments, more so than relationships.

Ransom’s name pops up in headlines every few weeks; new girls hanging off his arms or some outlandish story being featured on tabloids.

He’s not the type you’d personally hang out with, then again, Ella isn’t the usual company you keep.

“Sorry I’m late, Ellie.” You snap your head up as Ella stands up, embracing the well-dressed man. “Traffic was shit. You guys haven’t been here long, right?”

Yourself and Ella both speak at the same time. “No, of course not.”- “Twenty minutes, actually.”

You’re gifted a bitchy glare from Ella as you stand up, you’ve never been one to shy away from speaking up. Rich people aren’t an exception to your patience. This makes Ransom smirk at you though, clearly not offended or peeved off by your remark.

He shakes your hand firmly. “Ransom Drysdale, sure you’ve heard from me.”

“Y/N Y/L/N, honestly, only just learnt who you are today.” The three of you sit down and then you go silent, staring blankly at your glass of wine because what are the rules here?

Ella had told you she had asked Ransom. So, he knows why the three of you are here. But now what? You order food and eat, wine and dine, then fuck back at the hotel and that’s it. Of course, that’s it. There’s nothing else to do, but you can’t help but think there must be more steps. Some kind of conversation that needs to happen.

If there is a conversation that needs to happen, it doesn’t happen. Ella and Ransom are deep into conversation about ‘old times’. You sit just drinking and listening, usually how it is in your relationship. You never really have anything interesting to say to the wealthy, mostly because they wouldn’t listen anyway.

“So Y/N, what do you do?” Ransom’s voice is smooth and deep, his face is illuminated by the candles in the centre of the table. You raise an eyebrow at the causal question, “what? I think it’s better than me asking, why did you agree to let me fuck your girlfriend?”

You dryly chuckle and take another sip of wine, able to hold off on the question as your meals are placed before you. You contemplate and mull over his questions, either Ella hasn’t told him that you aren’t rich or he knows but wants to goad you into it anyway.

“Well, I work a lousy job as an accountant and I’m mostly paying off my student loans from university.” Better to be truthful than stupid in front of the rich. “Before you ask, no, I’m not using my degree at this job. I studied for five years to use it for nothing. I’m also agreeing because I’m no prude, done a few things and whilst I’d prefer you be another female, I can sort of see the appeal of two dicks.”

There’s a few seconds of just silence. Ella is volleying her eyes between you both. Ransom chews his steak slowly, eyes intently watching you and looking you over. It’s intense. You want him to stop, but you don’t look away.

A smirk spreads across his face and he nods. “We’re going to have fun tonight.”

“Splurged on the room then,” Ransom smirks as he unties his scarf, pulling it off of his neck and throwing it carelessly on the back of the armchair. “Must be nice to have the finer things,” he pats your shoulder roughly and gives you a knowing smile.

You shrugged, the nerves being knocked away from the liquid courage you guys have consumed. “Can’t complain about the nice rooms we stay in.” You walk over to the minibar and nod, Ransom gives a curt nod.

Ella scurries off towards the bedroom, a sultry smile of her ‘freshening up’ for the both of you.

“She’s told you the rules, right?” You asked and poured yourself another drink, Ransom let’s out a light chuckle as he sauntered over to you. You lift an eyebrow in question, “It’s just for… boundaries really, I’m sure you understand.”

The corner of Ransom’s mouth curls up, bringing the bourbon to his lips and taking a thoughtful sip, he’s standing close to you. Rubbing his shoulder against yours, he smells earthy and expensive, like spicy leather and musky mornings.

“I got your rules, don’t worry.” Placing the tumbler glass down. “More rules about us not doing stuff than me fucking your girl, though.”

You looked at him hesitantly and quickly looked away, downing your own drink hurriedly. Before you can defend yourself, not that you need to, Ella calls for you both. Standing in the bedroom doorway, hip leaning against the frame and her arms crossed.

Ella is dressed in nothing but simply lacy lingerie, that you know cost more than your rent. She looks beautiful, the lilac set matches her skin perfectly, hair is styled into a relaxed mused style- so you can play with it, you imagine.

“Are you boys coming to join me or not?”

That’s all the invitation you need before you’re walking around Ransom, placing your hands on her hips and pressing your lips to hers softly, she whimpers into your mouth before pulling away. Taking your hand and then extending her other towards Ransom, you chance a glance at the taller man.

His cock sure smirks makes you look away, taking Ella’s other hand and she pulls you both into the bedroom. The big, soft, luxurious bed would do fine at handling your three bodies.

You glance stiffly at the white sheets, well, now what? You know what to do when with just Ella but now you’re left in uncharted territory. Turning to look at the both of them once you’re stood in front of the bed, hands getting clammy for some reason.

“Well, undressed yourselves.” Ella smirks as she sits on the end of the bed with a bounce, crossing one leg over her other, leaning back on her elbows as she looks at them.

You start to unbutton your shirt, looking over at Ransom to see he was doing the same. You don’t take your eyes off of Ransom as you remove the shirt, letting the pale blue fabric to fall to the floor and then starting on your belt. Ransom begins to do the same, the clanging of his expensive Gucci belt is enough to numb your other senses.

You're both down to your boxers, both black Calvin Klines. Ella raises an amused eyebrow and allows her legs to fall open. Lifting a hand and crooking a finger in a come hither motion, you follow with little relcultance. Falling to her side and pressing open mouth kisses to her soft neck. One of your hands sneaking up and cupping one of her lacy breasts, squeezing the flesh harshly as you suck at her neck.

Ella let out a breathy moan, a sharp gasp escaping her at Ransom running his fingers over her clothed pussy. You help her sit up and unclasp her bra, allowing her perky breasts to slip free of the confines. Ransom slips the panties down her long legs before pushing her thighs apart, slotting himself between them.

For a brief moment you are captivated by him, watching as he languidly licked up her core and wrapped his plump, pink lips wrap around his clit. The moans Ella whines out are white noise, your brows furrow together and you wet your lips. You’re about to look away but Ransom looks up, capturing your eyes in with his deep blue ones. His left eye drops down into a playful wink.

You break out of his spell and look back at Ella, her eyes are screwed shut and her mouth is open wide, moans and groans leaving her wildly. You’re quick to attach your mouth to her nipples, already pebbled and peaked into hard nubs, lavishing her nipple with your tongue.

“God, your mouths,” she breathes harshly.

Time seems to meld as yourself and Ransom tease Ella with your tongues. You tease her nipples and softly bite on them as Ransom pushes two fingers into her and sucks on her clit. You both work in tandem, almost competitively, trying to see who can draw the most noises from her.

“You sure I’m not allowed to fuck this hole?” Ransom asked punctuating the question with a forceful thrust of his fingers.

His crude words make you shiver, a smirk pulling up on your mouth as your eyes narrow in delight. He’s asking permission, he certainly seems like the type to just take what he wants, save the consequence for whenever.

“You think you’ve earned it?” That question throws Ransom off, it even has Ella raising her eyebrows at you but you don’t spare her a glance. Your eyes bore into Ransom’s, unable to look away like the previous times.

Ransom grabs Ella’s ankle and flips her onto her stomach, tapping her hip and she raises them wordlessly, he gives you a questioning glare.

“She likes it hard and deep,” you sit up on your knees, a hand softly running through her hair and gripping it tightly, “don’t hold back, Ran. I won’t be,” you pull down your boxers with your other hand and free your straining cock.

You haven’t felt this hard in a while; you put it down to the fact this is new and exciting. You push the leaking tip into Ella’s waiting mouth, she hums approvingly around your girth. A low groan falls from your lips and you look up in time to see Ransom rid himself of his own underwear.

A large hand is wrapped around his own cock, rubbing it lazily and, for some reason, you can’t take your eyes off of his member. Seeing him naked has stolen your air away; his whole body is immaculate and strong, truly a vision.

You shake your head when Ella gags around your length, slowly pulling it out of her before looking up. Ransom had caught you staring at him, but instead of a disgusted look like you thought he’s wearing a curious look. An unreadable look.

As he pushes in his impressive length he gives you a look, his hands gripping Ella’s hips tightly. The warm caven of Ella’s mouth envelopes you again, you moan loudly but you’re unable to look away from Ransom and he seems to not be able to look away from you either.

“That’s it,” Ransom grunts as he starts to pound Ella from behind causing her body to jolt, pushing her further onto your cock.

The force of his thrusting hips and yours into her mouth, using Ella to reach your peaks. Finding a hard and rough rhythm together. A pushing and pulling rhythm. You’re both grunting and groaning, looking into one another's eyes intensely.

Ella’s whimpers and gagging sounds are numb to your ears, only focused on Ransom. His eyebrows are drawn together, jaw is clenched and his eyes are hard; dark and lust filled.

“You like that?” The question momentarily makes you stutter, Ransom locked on you but Ella hums in admission.

It wasn’t directed at her, though.

You nod once, careful to only groan loudly and not make it seem that it’s going to be Ransom that’ll make you cum.

“Of course, you do!” Ransom chuckles darkly, thrusting into Ella harder and grinding his cock deep into her, “fucking filthy. Dirty little whore for me, aren’t you?” Again Ella answers in whimpers and spit slicked sounds, but you have Ransom’s attention.

“Going to cum, I can feel it. Go ahead, fuckin’ cum for me.”

Your hips stutter deep in Ella’s throat, she gags but groans at the feeling. You cum down her tight throat, copious amounts of cum spurting out of you, a strained growl is yelled from you. Eyes being forced shut at the suddenness of your orgasm.

Ella greedily swallows every drop, licking your cock clean as you slowly drag it out of her mouth and fall back against the bed. Beads of sweat across your forehead and chest, Ella looks at you and smiles before whining again. Ransom keeps going ramming into her harder and faster, his eyes still scorned onto you.

You watch as Ella reaches her peak rather quickly after you, trembling under Ransom and whimpering, you sit up and cup her face in your hands. Kissing her softly before pulling away, looking up at Ransom who has his eyes shut before looking down at you.

“Cum inside of her.” You demand without hesitation and Ransom seems to take it.

His whole body becoming rigid and spasming, hips stilling inside of Ella as he cums deep within her walls. It’s a few silent seconds of heavy breathing. Till he pulls out and sinks back on his hunches, chest heaving and hair stuck to his forehead.

Despite the fact you both had such an intimate moment during this, you can’t bring yourself to look at him in the eye now. Knowing you orgasmed because of him, that you likely got hard because of him.

It’s weird. It’s odd. Ella stretches out on the bed, a low hum of approval to what just happened coming from her.

“Give me a few minutes and we can change positions and one of you can stick it in my ass.”

A deep part of you wished she’d fall asleep and it was just yourself and Ransom.

(Let me know what you think!!! So, yeah... I am writing a part 2 where Ransom and Male Reader get some alone time and get to... do some activities ;) but I wanted it to be like this whole weird sexual competitiveness between them with little moments of mxm - Rosalie)

#ransom thrombey #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x male reader #ransom drysdale x male!reader #ransom drysdale smut #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom drysdale one shot #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut

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earths-roots-grow-up · 4 years

Text

Headcanons on Russia’s and Prussia’s relationship with France.

Russia:

I think that in the XVIII century a large chunk of Europe had a crush on France. French culture was widespread among European courts and the language was being used to communicate in a similar manner English is used today. Frenchness was just very IN at that time.

Those countries included Russia. At that time Peter the Great was westernizing his country, and injecting French-ness into Russian lives was a part of this process - Versailles and the French court impressed Peter immensely when he went to visit France and when he came back home, he began emulating many things he observed in the western country. Language, customs, widespread mirrors everywhere, architecture, gardens. You name it.

High-born Russians would talk to each other in French and give themselves French names. Lets note that French wasn’t the only foreign language that was widespread in Russia, so were others, like German and Latin [mostly used by the academia.

“(...) of all the languages which began to have currency in eighteenth-century Russia, it was French that acquired the greatest social, cultural, and political significance,even if it was not always so widely spoken as German“.

The two next generations of Russians grew up within this Francophile culture and viewed it as something natural, from their perspective it was no longer an exotic fashion, just the way thing always were. Therefore, this was something more than just a fleeting fascination that lasted as long as Peter ruled - and had lingering influence on Russian culture.

“The most important stimulus for the development of French-speaking in Russia, though, was the use of French as a court language from around the middle of the reign of Peter’s daughter Elizabeth (1741–61), who had learnt it in childhood from a French lady at her father’s court.“

And so it went on from there: “At the beginning of the nineteenth century, the Russian nobility still preferred French to Russian for everyday use, and were familiar with French authors such as Jean de la Fontaine, George Sand (etc.). The influence of France was equally strong in the area of social and political ideas. Catherine II's interest in the writings of the (french) philosophers of the Enlightenment (...) contributed to the spread of their ideas in Russia during the eighteenth century.” and “ During the nineteenth century, travel in France was considered a form of cultural and intellectual apprenticeship. “.

(source) So the interest in French ideas and culture was strong in the second half of the XVIII century and in the XIX century.

So in other words, Russia had a crush on France - it was a total puppy love mostly based on superficial things, like aesthetic, nice smells and pretty, elegant European opulence but most of all: France was the ideal of what Russia was trying to become, the epicenter of European-ness, the “civilization” and Ivan was in the middle of this lowkey cultural revolution in which he was trying to re-invent himself as a modern, “European” country. So I think this crush was very much one of those "I wanna BE YOU" types of crushes, he was head over heels for what France represented - that’s why this hit so hard.

There was some more personal stuff there too, like France's eloquence, his literature and philosophy. Enter a lot of perfumed love letters! Even when the crush slowly withered away Russia still felt - and feels - strong admiration for France and honestly enjoys his culture a lot.

France himself enjoyed the crush but wasn't really that interested in reciprocating - as mentioned above, large chunk of Europe was also crushing on him due to his culture just being in fashion, so it's not like Russia himself was standing out. But they did become friends and still have good personal relations with each other. They have a lot of passions in common, such as ballet, art, music, opera, Romanticism etc, so they still enjoy talking about this stuff together. It’s not a Deep friendship where they trust each other, don’t be fooled, they don’t trust one another at all! But they do like hanging out.

I also HC that the way both French and German were important in XVIII century Russia (as cited above: French with greater cultural significance and German more widespread) is representative of him catching feelings for both France and Prussia at this time, tho one of those wasn't just a crush.

Prussia:

My non-canon-approved hot take here is that I don't think him and France were ever friends. The exact opposite of that even.

It's true that Frederick the Great also had this hard-on for the French, and in effect Prussia speaks and writes excellent French. But after Frederick William II took over the throne, he took back all those Francophile preferences and began promoting German literature and language instead - something the educated classes of Prussia were thankful for. So because Russia shared his ruler's fascination with France his interest outlasted Peter the Great and became a more prevalent part of Russian culture for a long time, while Prussia never shared Fredrick’s fascination and therefore it got overturned as soon as the new king sat on the throne.

And that makes sense, bc in general Germans and French weren't very friendly with each other during their history. German- French enmity, also called the hereditary enmity, is an idea introduced in the XIX century, and it states that those two forces are natural enemies due to their inherently different goals and incompatible interests. Due tho this they keep bumping against each other throughout the ages. You can see echos of this sentiment it in the Napoleonic Wars, Franco-Prussian War, WW1, the Treaty of Versailles, WW2 etc. France was also the country that stood in the strongest opposition to the German Empire being created, so a big issue for Prussia.

It’s important to mention that this German-French enmity was often used as a propaganda tool for wars and simplified the complex relations between those two groups. Of course it did, even Austrian/Prussian relations weren’t ALWAYS bad, even tho they were called ‘the biggest enemies’ by historians.

It is believed that the enmity ended after WW2 and no longer is a thing. To me that is a pretty great example of Germany taking over the reign and replacing Prussia. Prussian/France relations were bad, but German/France relations are pretty darn good. And it makes sense, because Prussia had different goals than Germany has, and they are very different individuals. I see France and Germany as friends due to their shared work in UE, tho I’m not sure if they would be something more than just work friends.

Anyway, this is Hetalia and not a historical-political deep dive - to me what counts in Hedcanon context is the general feel throughout history: were they generally allies or enemies? Were their interests clashing with one another or were they compatible, most of the time at least? The whole idea behind this “inherited” enmity is that French and German interests were incompatible, so it had to end with a conflict. And they did, many times over. I feel like the importance of the Napoleonic wars especially is often undervalued here - it was a HUGE conflict that would have a lasting impact on their relations, way bigger than the Wars for Austrian Succession, which are often cited as proof of their friendship. But they were an outlier in general Prussian/French relations.

That’s why I think Prussia and France are not, nor ever were friends, they view each other as enemies and dislike each other. Tho during the reign of Old Fritz their relationship was warmer and more amicable than during other periods, considering they actually had similar goals and fought together for a change - mostly because that was convenient for then, not due to some preexisting friendship. But I do like the idea that during this time they had some kind of difficult comradery going for a brief while and there was this fleeting “maybe in another reality we could be friends” vibe.

Due to the bad history, Prussia's dislikes of France can be seen in many small things that irritate him, like he just detests Francis' need to show opulence, his over-the-top rococo aesthetic and cuture-esque fashion sense, hight emotionality drives him bonkers and even the pastel flowery color palettes he often wears irk him. And don’t even get his started on the Revolutions! He’ll talk your ear off.

Tl’Dr: So Prussia and France don't like each other and are generally bitchy and passive-aggressive with one another. Russia and France are friendly and good acquaintances, while not exactly close. Russia just likes him - he still admires a lot of things about French culture, enjoys the language, cuisine, architecture, fashion etc, and used to have a crush on him.

Rusprus take:

Prussia in a confident, self-assured person, but when it comes to France, he can be surprisingly self-conscious. He still remembers that crush Russia used to have on him and WHY he had it - because of many characteristics that France possesses, but Prussia doesn't. Like being romantic and sentimental, sensitive, emotionaly open, appreciative of beauty, artsy etc. Sometimes Russia finds that cute and endearing, bc it makes him feel wanted, but sometimes it's just... ridiculous.

APH Prussia: What do you wanna watch tonight, Vanka?

APH Russia: Hm... maybe that movie, Marie Antoinette?

APH Prussia: Ugh OF COURSE you wanna ogle HIM!

APH Russia: W... what.

APH Prussia: France! You wanna ogle that cheese-smelling frog-eater!

APH Russia: What... no! Gilya, Gilyushka, Gilynechka! That's absurd, I just want to watch a pretty period drama!

APH Prussia: Don’t you “Gilynechka“ me! And as if that's not enough...

APH Prussia: She was AUSTRIAN

APH Russia: Omg. Kill me now. When you have almost 1000 years of history together then even picking a Netflix show can be a minefield!

Anyway, they end up watching the movie but Prussia roasts everything in frame :D

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niksixx · 4 years

Text

Number 73

Requested: Anonymously

Pairing: Axl Rose x Reader

Description: “Hi it’s Tuesday so can I request a smut oneshot where reader is harsh to Axl cuz she thinks of him as a selfish womanizer, and he thinks she’s cold and pretentious so they’re basically enemies, but deep inside she’s unable to resist his hotness so when she’s with her friend she blurts our that she wants him to f*** her or sth, but actually axl accidentally overhears it and next day becomes her worst(best) day?”

Warning: Smuuuut

A/N: Reblog please !

*GIF is NOT mine, found on Google. Credit to the owner!*

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“My God, have they come up for air yet?” Y/B/F asks, eyes bugging out of her head.

Without looking, you already know who Y/B/F is talking about. “Let me guess. Blonde. Skinny. Around 5’6, 5’7. Tits squeezed into a shirt that’s too tight.”

“Holy shit,” Duff grins. “Spot on.”

Rolling your eyes, you look over your shoulder, scoffing at how disgustingly accurate your prediction was. The blonde is leaned against the bar, arms wrapped loosely around Axl’s neck as their tongues clash in a heated kiss. Soon, he’d ditch her though, and find the next best thing. That’s just how Axl operated.

“He’s a pig,” you whisper, but Slash hears every word.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say someone is jealous.”

You scoff. “Please. I have respect for myself, you know.”

Just as you suspected, Blondie trickled back to her friends, and Axl was on the prowl. You watch as he sidles up next to a brunette this time, turning on his charm. Their tongues are down each other's throats less than a minute later.

“Man, he’s good,” Izzy pipes up for the first time that night, earning a laugh from his friends and a death stare from his fiance.

Well, at least Axl’s friends weren’t despicable, womanizing assholes. All were dating, engaged, or married. None of them ever felt the need to sleep around, even though they’ve had plenty of chances. But Axl? It sent him on some sort of power trip.

Swirling the straw in your rum and coke, you turn your eyes down at the drink, leaning a cheek on your palm. It’s a shame Axl’s personality was shitty. He was an attractive man who knew how to please a woman. Not that you’d know, but damn if you wouldn’t love to find out.

Twenty minutes later, a drunk Axl falls clumsily into the chair beside you, earning stifled laughs from his bandmates. You roll your eyes and scoot away from him, only to be stopped by his hand gripping the back of your chair.

“Where’re you going?” He smiles lazily at you.

Conveniently, you notice your empty glass and you stand. “Anywhere you’re not.”

Steven hollers loudly as Axl’s jaw immediately tenses up. Shooting him a smirk, you find yourself heading over to the bar, turning in your empty glass and ordering three tequila shots.

“Rough night?” The bartender asks as she places the shot glasses in front of you.

You groan. “You have no idea.”

The shot glass touches your lips but before you have the chance to taste the bitter liquid, a man pushes his way through the crowd, nearly knocking into you, before settling himself beside you at the bar. “I’ll take three of whatever she’s having,” Axl flauts a fifty dollar bill in his hand, sending a wink to the bartender before smirking down at you.

“Charming,” you say, downing the tequila. It burns, and you kick yourself for not ordering a few limes to go with it.

“I know, I know,” Axl gloats. “It’s one of my best traits.”

“Clearly you lack the capacity to understand sarcasm.”

Axl grabs his first glass, drinking the liquid with ease. “And clearly you lack the ability to be nice. What’s your problem, hm? You always have this stuck up, bitchy attitude. I promise you, sweetheart,” Axl’s face is dangerously close to yours, and you pray he can’t feel the heat radiating off your cheeks. “You’re not all that.”

“Oh, and you are?” On a normal day, you’d let Axl’s comments roll off your shoulders. The highlight of his day would be insulting you, teasing you, and irritating the fuck out of you. And somehow he always got to you before you could say anything back. This time, though, you’re determined to stand your ground and speak the fuck up.

“Of course I am. Take a good look at who I am, angel,” Axl holds out his arms as if he believes you’ll actually admire him. “I’m Axl fucking Rose for shit’s sake. Rock legend, millionaire, ladies man.”

“Actually,” You lean closer to him, finger rimming the shot glass. “You wanna know what I really think of you?”

“Enlighten me,” he says, teeth biting the corner of his bright pink lip. “Tell me everything I want to hear.”

“I think,” you whisper, body slightly pressing against his side. His eyes are dark, lustful, and they betray him. “That you’re a selfish, stuck up prick that never got any attention as a child, and that’s why you crave it now. You have commitment issues, which is why you’re a shag ‘em and leave ‘em type of guy. You’re a womanizing bastard and you know no woman would ever willingly choose to be with someone like you, and that is why your life revolves around sex. Sex is the only way women give you attention. And that,” your lips graze his ear. “Is truly fucking pathetic.”

Axl stares angrily as you down the second shot, staring back at him with such animosity burning in your eyes, he almost believes you truly hate him. But the hatred in your eyes is mixed with something else, and he can’t quite figure it out. As he replays your words over in his head, it hits him.

Jealousy.

Axl isn’t prepared for the next words that come out of his mouth, but he takes a shot of tequila anyway for courage. “And I think,” he creeps closer to your body, maneuvering around the tight crowd so your back is pressed against the bar, trapping you in his arms. “That you are so beyond jealous that I haven’t fucked you yet.”

Your eyes nearly roll out of your head as Axl laughs at your expression. “Excuse me?”

“Tell me I’m wrong,” Axl prodes, eyes flickering to your lips. For a moment it seems as if he’s going to kiss you. “If I said let’s go back to my house right now, what would you say?”

“I’d say fuck no.”

“Riiiight,” he taunts, inching closer to your face. “And you actually think I believe that?”

“You should,” You briefly turn in his arms to finish the third shot before turning back, chest heaving, thoughts racing, pussy throbbing. He’s dangerously close and you need to get out of there, and fast, before you act on your thoughts. “Because I would never fuck someone whose dick has been shoved in about twenty different girls.”

“More like seventy-two, but who’s keeping track?” Axl winks, backing up to set you free.

Stomach twisting, you shoot Axl the most disgusted look you could manage. “You’ve had sex with seventy-two women?”

“And counting,” He grins, eyes racking your body. “Wanna be number seventy-three?”

One too many tequila shots later, you’re stumbling down the street with Y/B/F right behind you. The liquor had hit when you least expected, and tequila mixed with anger was a deadly combination.

“Seventy-two women!” You shout, leaning on a nearby pole to regain your balance. “He’s fucked seventy-two women,” your chuckle is empty, “And he...and he asked me, me! If I wanted to be...be his number seventy-three.”

“Does that surprise you?” Y/B/F asks. “You said it yourself. He’s a pig.”

“I know and it’s even worse because I’d love nothing more than to be number seventy-three!” Axl hit the nail on the head when he called you out for being jealous. You weren’t just jealous. No, observing his hookups with random girls and hearing stories about them the next day was infuriating. You’d never even been a choice to him.

“You don’t mean that,” says Y/B/F, helping you off the pole. “You’re just a little too drunk.”

“No, Y/B/F, I’m serious.” The purse in your hand slaps against your thigh, free hand smacking your forehead. “I’ve wanted him for years, but I’ve never been good enough. I don’t want to date him or anything, I know he’s not really into that, but goddamn it can’t a woman get a little hate sex in her life? I hate him, he can’t stand me. It’s the perfect fuck.”

Y/B/F grabs your hand, rolling their eyes as they help you inside a cab. “Jesus, Y/N, quiet down before someone hears you.”

But it was too late for that, as just a few paces away Axl stood in the back alley of the bar, phone lifted to his ear, cigarette hanging from his mouth as it narrowed in a smirk. You wanted hate sex? Oh, he’d give just that.

As you sit on your couch, TV on low volume, book in your lap, you try to ignore the aches in your body. As you discovered this morning just by emptying your guts into the toilet, tequila was not your friend. This hangover was the worst one you’d had, and even though it was your fault you’d drank too much, you’d subconsciously blame Axl for making you so hot and bothered, you felt drowning yourself in liquor was the only way to handle it.

There’s a knock on your front door and luckily you’d kept it unlocked. You had no intention of moving from the couch other than to go to the bathroom. “It’s open!”

Your eyes don’t leave the page in front of you, too engrossed in the scene playing out, until the all familiar voice has you slowly looking up from the book. “You look like shit.”

“Always the charmer, eh, Axl?” Snapping your book shut, you chuck it beside you, pulling the blanket to your chin. “What do you want?”

Your pupils dilate as Axl pulls his shirt over his head, letting it fall to the floor. Wandering eyes run over his chest. He’s not like other men. He doesn’t have hard pectorals or the outline of six pack abs, and you like that about him. You also like that he’s standing in front of you shirtless, but you don’t have a guess as to why. “Two words. Hate sex.”

Your breath hitches as he moves toward you. Instinctively, you shoot off the couch. “I have no fucking clue what you’re talking about, but you need to get out of here right now.”

“Cute shorts,” Axl gestures to the soft gray pajama bottoms that are two sizes too short, the curve of your ass peeking out, giving him a show. “And you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

You move around the couch, Axl watching you like his prey. His thumbs are hooked around the belt loops on his jeans as he shuffles his feet along the floor.

“I was drunk,” you admit, eyes flitting around the room, looking at anything other than the man in front of you.

“Drunk words are sober thoughts,” He says back, folding his arms across his chest. “I know you’re not a huge fan of me. I don’t particularly like you either. But what I do like is sex,” The bulge in his pants hardens, and you beg yourself not to look. “So, how about it, sweetheart?”

You hate the effect he has on you. He knows you want him, he knows he has total control over you now. But you can’t give into him. You won’t. “Get out.”

His demeanor falls briefly, as if maybe he’d read you wrong. “Are you serious?”

“I said get out, Axl.” Walking around the couch, you position yourself in front of him, lightly pushing his chest. “Now.”

He doesn’t budge. “You’re joking.”

“I said get out.”

His head tilts, but he backs up slowly. You follow him toward the door, heart thumping against your chest. Fucking hell, this was your chance! Why were you kicking him out?

“So last night was just a lie,” Axl responds, pursing his lips.

“No, Axl, it wasn’t a fucking lie,” Again, you shove his chest. “I want you. I really fucking want you. But for the six years we’ve known each other, you’ve never given me so much as a fucking wink. For some reason, I’ve never been good enough for you to fuck.”

“And that pisses you off, doesn’t it?” Axl taunts, shoulder leaning against the doorframe. “I knew you were jealous. And I’ve got to be honest, it looks hot on you.”

“Just go, Axl.”

“You don’t want me to go,” his voice is low, raspy, and if he doesn’t leave now, you may just pull him back in. “I know you don’t.”

“Axl, goddamn it--.”

His hand wraps around the back of your neck, pulling you into his body, lips molding against yours. His lips feel just as you imagined. Warm and soft.

He moves them against your mouth with such expertise it was easy to let him guide you. With his free hand he shuts the door behind him as you cling to his body, locking your arms behind his head.

His tongue explores your mouth, claiming you with each sweep of his tongue. He sucks your bottom lip and a moan escapes you. He kisses like an angel, but he’s anything but.

Axl’s hands roam your body, squeezing your hips, the curve of your ass. He whispers “jump” into your mouth and you do, legs locking around his waist, never breaking the kiss. Heat crackles between the two of you, and you’re overwhelmed with the need to feel his skin.

Axl walks the two of you back into the living room, gently lying you on the couch. His lips disconnect from yours and you groan in want, but his lips find their way to your neck and you relax.

“So needy,” he whispers against the base of your throat. His fingers play with the hem of your shirt. “This is in the way.” In a swift motion, Axl rids you of your shirt, running the tip of my tongue over each of your nipples. They perk, and he smirks before closing his lips around the bud, flicking his tongue and softly biting the peaks. Arching your back forces more of your breast in his mouth, and you hook a leg around his waist, bucking your hips upward. “I need you.”

“Be a good girl and wait,” He demands, licking and kissing a line down your belly. He stops at your shorts, kissing your navel once before slowly dragging the shorts down your legs. He kisses the top of your underwear line, lowering his head until his mouth hovers above your clothed center, gently kissing the fabric. Your hips thrust upward in a frenzy. “Touch me, please.”

He says nothing as he takes his time pulling down your underwear. It’s been months since you’d been intimate, and the shyness takes over. Your legs try to squeeze shut, but Axl pushes them back open again. “You’re not hiding from me. I’ll stare at your pussy all day if I want to.”

His tongue licks a stripe up your center before disappearing between your silky folds. Wetness gathers between your thighs and he laps at it, sending a shutter of pleasure throughout your body. He licks and licks, using the tip and flattening his tongue, but what sends you over the edge is his lips sucking your clit into his mouth.

Your toes are curling and your chest is heaving. You do your best to suck in heaps of air, but you can’t focus on breathing as his tongue swirls around your clit.

You want to watch him. Back resting against the couch pillow, you hold yourself up on your elbows just in time to see Axl spit on your pussy. His thumb spreads the saliva across your clit, flicking it rather quickly.

His middle finger slides into your hole, wetness coating the digit as it pumps in and out of your folds. Axl adds his ring finger next, using his free hand to spread you open more. “So tight, sweetheart. Gotta loosen you up a bit so you can take my cock.”

You moan at the vulgarness of his words. This what exactly how you’d pictured sex with Axl. The dirty talk. The fingering. The gentle licks on your clit. This is what you’d been fucking wait for.

Your head falls back as his tongue finds your pussy again, the sensation of his fingers and tongue making your head fall back. “Fuck, fuck, Axl.”

“Yes, baby, I’m gonna fuck you.”

Cold air hits your clit as Axl pulls back, hands finding his jeans and pulling them down his legs. He kicks them off to the side, eyes locking with yours as he fists himself through his boxers. You reach out for him but he slaps your hand away, sliding the boxers down his thighs. His cock springs to life, thankful to not be constricted any longer. He’s long and hard with a few veins on the underside, and you whimper at the sight of precum that dribbles down the head. “Sit up.”

At that point, you’ll do anything he says. Axl sits, hand stroking his dick as you crawl over him, positioning your pussy directly over his cock. You lower yourself a bit, clit brushing against the soft head, and even Axl moans this time. His hands grab your hips, and together you lower yourself down, stifling a cry as his dick forces itself inside your hole, stretching your walls.

Axl’s mouth falls open as you sink yourself lower onto his cock. His hands never leave your hips, but instead aids in the bouncing of your ass against his thighs as you maneuver yourself up and down, up and down. Your tits are perched perfectly in front of him and he licks his lips in delight as he captures a nipple, swirling his tongue in circles.

Your body explodes in pleasure, from the tongue on your breasts to the dick burying itself in your cunt. Hands on Axl’s chest, you balance yourself over top of him, slightly craning your head back to watch as his cock slides in and out of your slick pussy.

Axl’s hand grips your face, turning you back to face him. “This is what you wanted?” He grunts out, hips thrusting upward to meet your hips. “You wanted me to fuck you like a whore?”

Your toes curl. Your legs squeeze against his thighs. Your head falls forward against his, breath fanning over his face as his hand squeezes your jawline. This is all you wanted, and even if you had to wait six years for it, it was worth it.

“Come on, ride my cock.” He grunts harshly as your hips pound against his legs, riding his dick as if there were no tomorrow. Like your life depended on it.

Your pussy clenches around him, and that all too familiar bubble in the pit of your belly only grows as Axl continues his pounding into you. He thrusts at lightning speed, and you’re so caught off guard you reach for the back of the couch, holding on as he fucks the daylights out of you.

“Axl! Shit, shit,” His balls slap against your underside, arms wrapping around your middle to steady you against him. “I’m gonna--fuck I’m--coming!”

Your thighs shake violently as you come, juices spilling out of your pussy, dripping down your legs, and puddling on Axl’s thighs. His load shoots into you and he pulls your forward, nuzzling his face between your breasts, breathing hard. With every twitch of his cock, you moan a little louder.

You close your eyes, steadying your breath as you come down from your sex high. Axl licks his lips, eyes trained on your mouth, and you lean in to kiss him, but your lips never meet as he pulls back.

“This can’t happen again.”

The words stun you as he slides his cock out of you. He stands from the couch, pulling on his boxers and pants before pulling his shirt down over his head, leaving you to process his words. This can’t happen again. Why the hell not?

“Wait, what?” You shoot off the couch, flustered and completely naked. Axl’s eyes run up and down your body, and you can see it in his face, he wants you. But something is holding him back. “I just had the best fucking day of my life, and you tell me it’ll never happen again?”

He shrugs, finishing the button on his jeans. There’s something sad in his eyes, and your heart breaks. “I don’t fuck the same girl twice.”

He turns, and you chase after him. Axl just gets to the door before you grab his arm, forcing him to turn around and look at you. “So that’s fucking it? You’re just going to leave?”

Axl nods, biting the corner of his mouth. “One and done, sweetheart. That’s all I can offer you.”

“But,” you stutter, unable to control the tears pricking your eyes. “But I thought-.”

“That fucking you would be different?” He asks, swallowing nervously as the tears in your eyes break free. Damn it. He wanted to be gone before the waterworks started. “That I’d want to be with you? We’re enemies, Y/N. Our personalities clash. You’re a bitch and I’m...well...you were right. I’m a bastard that only wants sex. You were never an exception,” Axl blows out a breath and watches as your face falls dejectedly. “You were just number seventy-three.”

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seb-owns-these-tatas · 4 years

Text

Witcher of the Night (Chapter 23)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

CHAPTER 22

WOTN MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: You only needed a little push from the Druid to blurt out what is needed to be said out in the open. It was time to finally recognize such feelings you have for the witcher who is out to hunt for the witch that will set you free. Thus, making you yearn more for him when you're currently still in a fight with the man himself.

Warnings: I've customized Kolby in this story of mine. He talks a little. Heh. Derogatory attitudes and words. No Still, no Geralt yet. Full blown Geralt perspective on chapter 23.1! (Not 1st POV) It will be posted earlier in Wattpad. Hehehehe.

Words: 6k

A/N: Updates might be a lot slower than usual when September starts because it's the start of our online school. 😊 That's why I'm doing my effort in posting updates as much as possible. Feedbacks will be so nice to receive especially for an author. 😊 Also, CAN’T THEY JUST MAKE-UP ALREADY? I MISS WRITING FLUFF FOR THEM?!

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE! Sorry for the grammatical errors and such because English isn’t my mother tongue! PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK AFTER READING, BB! I apologize for errors!

Disclaimer: PNG’s and pictures used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. Character development and personalities are based from my understanding and how I want them to be. I only own my original characters in this fanfic.

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

(I know that ain't a Hirikka. Just looks like one. Hehe. It's a Madagascar Lemure to be specific. So cute. Literally looks like a Hirikka or Kolby but a smaller version! 😍)

By your sudden reckoning after days of physical torture, you deserve a reward for having your hypothesis correct. The palace guards has taken you all close to a stock still riverbed; stagnant and utterly too tranquil to begin with that it has given you doubts over how safe it is. Living with the witcher has made you more cautious over your surroundings, thinking that there would always be monsters hiding around or beneath the dark stream of water where minnows constantly waggled along your toes as you tried to test the temperature of the water.

The river curved gently through the forest, your eyes scanning all around and wary for any beasts to surprise you out of the blue. Every women began to grab onto a pile of dirt stained clothes scattered on the dry, rocky ground as you were calf deep within the rivers, looking through the trees while you stood on your place---seeing for any broken branches looking like it has been eaten or moved by a gigantic beast.

Remembering the witcher's knowledge about monsters, giving you some of the basics. He'd told you about foot prints seen on the ground as it could also be a hint that monsters may be wandering around the place.

You've felt a hand shoving your shoulders forward to disturb you out of your thoughts, the mild splashing of water coming from your stumbling body as you heard the voices of one, ill-bred castle guard, "It's safe. The servants have been washing clothes in ere' since before you even feckin' arrived," he curtly spat with no remorse. Drops of his saliva watering your face like rainfall which has made you scrunch your nose in disgust.

"We shouldn't be too sure," ambivalent of the whole place, you uttered in complete hesitance.

The castle guard boastfully crossed his arms in front of you, tilting his chin high to show how he was pressing on his dominance over a servant slash prisoner he believed you to be---his judgement being also based upon your connection with a witcher which has made him more repellant and hateful.

"Stop blathering, witcha's whore. Do your job."

There was no use to that especially that every man and woman surrounding you began to rudely stare---criticising your shilly-shallying and thinking that you were doing it to lessen your work time. All the tension was adding stones to your chest because you sincerely didn't want to do any of it at all.

One begrudging sigh and a glum frown was all it took for your feet to leave the rivers, carrying the heavyness of being trapped and controlled by people acting like they owned everything of you.

This was probably how peasants were back in history and it was humiliating to be under their jurisdiction when you have been used to freedom back in your dimension no matter how depressing it can be to be alone and a commoner.

You sat on a big pile of rock around the river bed, your knuckles turning beet red from how you have been scrubbing all clothing, under garments, any type of fabric that has got you feeling as if muscles would build up around your shoulders and arms from how thick and thin they can become. Minding your own business and wanting to finish the chores as soon as possible---being secluded from the group of chattering servants who were a few meters away from you that their abrupt jests and teases haven't been heard by you. One tall, slim maiden managed to stroll along your way, through the riverbed as she loudly called which has gotten giggles of mischievousness from the women.

"Oi! Witcher's tramp!" she loudly spoke whilst the cold wind passed by, "---I heard you're damned just like the butcher,"

Your movements have been ceased by her blatant pillory. But, you went on scrubbing the clothing on your hands while lowly murmuring a tired warning.

"Leave me alone."

Cold sweat began to drip on your temples and neck. The healing bruises on your back slightly feeling sore and you couldn't help but stretch your back upon sitting down on the rocks. Once the maiden was up close as you've seen her shadows nearby, giving her a plain gander; your memory washed through when you've seen her face.

Drishti. She was the woman who looked to be in a close relationship with the senior servants who seemed to also be mocking other women as a playful jest.

Though, you doubt yours have just been playful teases.

She swiftly turned away to crouch beside you, grabbing onto the finished fabrics that were already clean. The giggling woman dropped the wet bundle of clothes over your head that has made you breathless for too much frustrations going to your head, intentionally ruining your work and mockingly stating her apologies when some of it went straight down the waters, soiling them again.

"The queen wants it squeaky clean. No tarnishes. Leave er' out until your knuckles are bleedin'! I've seen dirt with your work---wouldn't want the queen to scold us now, don't we?"

Otker has just been watching the whole scene before him with a frown etched on his face. He didn't want to involve in such problems that women try to stir with each other especially that other knights and sentinels actually came with them. But, seeing you being bludgeoned for their entertainment was giving himself more guilt while hearing more of what they were saying.

The others began to saunter towards where you both were. Mischievous grins curling their lips as they prowled closer to where Drishti was and stopping beside her with their hands on their hips, wiping their wet hands on their aprons.

"I doubt you would be able to wash all these clothing by yourself," Drishti stated, proud of ruining your work and seeing you submissively peeling off the clothes covering your head one by one in a lethargic manner. No words spoken by the witcher's tramp that they have been calling you since the day you've seen them.

"You seem to be in a moribund by how pale ye' are! Definitely the witcher's bride!" the other maiden noticed as she crouched near you, her face closely in a few inches from yours. Yet, you didn't give her your attention and continued to ignore whatever they were doing. Fed up by all their oppression about being Geralt's whore. The label quite affecting you more and more each day as they try to make you realize that it was all your worth to him.

They weren't helping after the fight you had with him as it was still fresh inside your head, stressing you out with a want to claw anyone in your way.

"Your stupid witcher killed my knightly hombre for a floozie like ye'!" Drishti snarled, raising her foot to kick you on the side before seeing her in your peripheral vision and blocking her assaults with a shove of your hands, pushing her calf away from your body.

"---Not. My. Stomach. Bitch."

The bitchy maiden squinted her eyes, guessing as to why you seem to be in a flurry and protective state over the stomach you've suddenly held dear. She tilted her chin, comprehending what was keeping you all guarded rather than accepting their tyrannizes just like how you've been days before.

You were acting like a pregnant woman, she thought in the back of her mind. Now, Drishti knew you were basically fucking the witcher---and you were too naive to know that he was sterile.

Though, they never know anything at all besides that.

"Feisty and defensive, aye! Ye' growin' a cub down there? I doubt!" she scoffed from the idea and how you were avoiding her eyes, guilty from being caught, "---you've gone doolally if you ever think the witcher gots you pregnant, harlot!"

Drishti was about to tug onto your hair when your guarding has been on the low, choosing to ignore her. Like a shot, an uninvited whisk of a wind passed by. The gasps and yelps of people around started to begin again with buzzes of incoherent gossips. Their fingers pointing towards an undesirable visitor who can never be accepted by people in their land.

A familiar growl vibrated beside you, making you turn your head to see your Hirikka standing for safeguard. His fangs shown towards Drishti who was now sitting upon the riverbed, her bottom drenched in her own clothes from being shoved by the beast you call your own, looking like she has seen her own fears appear before her.

"Kolby?" sweetly called by you, gasping afterwards by feeling the relief wash over, "---Kolby! I thought you were gone,"

Upon the de trop invitation of the Hirikka, pandemonium started to arise for his presence. Wary of the sound of swords unsheathing from their covers and gallants suddenly coming forth towards the both of you.

It suddenly made you stand up in defense, hiding Kolby behind whilst you fought for his life.

"Kill it!" Roger, the head guard suddenly started his upheaval. Marching towards you with his sword on his side, paranoid over the monster that they're seeing.

"Stop! he's harmless! Just feral because you are using your swords on him!" Their actions made you shout at the top of your lungs, making them cease their steps when Kolby swiftly turned to change position and stood in front, safeguarding you from everyone he sees peril.

One sentinel huffed in abhorrence, his face shadowing outrage for the brute trying to protect another human. Disbelief written inside their eyes as Kolby continued to loudly howl in the middle of the forest and riverbed.

"That's a feckin' monster you gots there, you foolish woman!"

You reached for the Hirikka, softly petting his head which quickly have him calm down in the slightest, leaning his muzzle closer to your face as he purred. Noting his particular stench that he had from being away for days and out in the forest.

"Kolby is harmless! I can even pet him! He will prove you all that this Hirikka is harmless for anyone. Would you do the honors, Otker?"

The forest green eyed man suppressed all his opinions to himself as he observed what was happening. Reveling in his own silence, his name was abruptly called out of the blue, snapping from his own dwam as Otker surveyed the looks of everyone who were scattered around him, their defense up and alert whilst they hold their weapons.

"M-Must it be me?" he stuttered and tweeted, his weight shifting from one foot to the other while his foot tapped on the ground. Otker seeming to be reluctant from your suggestion when he'd given Kolby a scan of his eyes as the Hirikka barred his teeth dispassionately, distinguishing to be a smile that caught the chevalier in surprise.

"---He's harmless, lads. Unless you're keeping his master in danger then he'll bite,"

Nobody believed him. That wasn't new to a newly employed knight who hadn't reach years of working for the kingdom.

One Kaedweni scout yelled his hatred over your monster out in the open, "Slaughter the beast and behead!"

They've all taken one step forward. Their stance never capitulating no matter how much convincing was ever told. Kolby vehemently yowled and barked in the middle of their pussyfooting till they could reach you both. It sounded like a howl of a wolf who was calling for its kind. Their obstinacy made you squawk out of nowhere, rattling the quietude of the forest as you felt your heart pounding faster and louder against your chest. Your temples thumping in torment because your head was starting to ache from the stress they were trying to give and for also feeling your other half's current state.

Your screams made them jerk back, the maidens clearing their throat and subtly stepping back from your sudden outrage.

"I'd like to see you try before I tell him to rip your head first while I feed your balls off to fuckin' Ghouls!" you shrieked and panted, feeling another gist of a panic-attack about to happen. Your emotions were starting to be a squall before a hurricane, utterly ferocious and turbulent because of the pent-up aggression kept for days long.

"---Just leave me the fuck alone for this once! You're all insane for annoying the shit out of me since the moment I got here! I've been doing everything you wanted! Wasn't all the drubbing enough?! Call me the witcher's whore, tramp, harlot, his sex-doll for all I care! I know my face shows how I'm always thirsty for Geralt's dick but you don't need to know that! JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!" pause. "---FUCKING ASSHOLES IN THE MEDIEVAL ERA! YOU'RE STRESSING ME OUT!"

You were a towering rage set in a small body of a woman. Your face wild and vicious---in the verge of crying and wanting to bring back the time where you have never drowned in a lake you hardly remember; for it to have the power of never transporting into another dimension that was staring to take a toll on you, never wanting to have met Geralt along the way so you wouldn't have love him too much just like how you do now.

Thinking about his whereabouts every single day despite of being thoroughly upset over him, still caring for him even knowing that he didn't even loved you.

Tears were being squeezed from the eyes who have already cried all night and day. But, it seemed like it decided not to give the people in front---the taste of your desperation for peace and happiness especially without your anchorage who happened to be breaking the chains for you.

Roger took a step back, hearing growling from afar and not just from your Hirikka. His head snapped to where the noise where coming from when he was suddenly standing stiff from where he stood, eyeing a dozen of wild Hirikkas grouping themselves from the other side of the river. Grimy and nasty looking more than Kolby; taller, bigger and some were buffed like a bear. Their teeth barred for everyone to see as the monsters were scanning them one by one with their wild golden eyes.

The kaedweni sentinels seen it all, even the maidens who were silently panicking from seeing such monsters prowling away from them, standing to watch what was happening as if Kolby was their alpha. They all looked at Roger who begrudgingly sheathed his sword, ignoring your dispute with a single nod of his head for his men.

"They're everywhere. The beast must've called for reinforcements," he exhaled a breath of exasperation, taking a gander to give you a glare.

"---Stand down, lads."

All at once, they've yielded their weapons. Some shaking their heads at what they were witnessing. However, most were sending crude remarks over your relationship with a monster they believed and had profound repugnance over its kind.

"You're...You're a feckin' mutant too! Get your feckin' monster out of ere' before we kill ye' instead!"

Nevertheless, as each hour and days pass by. It seems like their ridicules sound like a normal thing to hear now after a ton of shameless monikers coming from them whenever they were seeing you. Becoming numb over what humans think of because you were simply associated with Geralt of Rivia. A witcher in their world. Catching more undisputed names that you hardly know as he seemed not to be the only witcher that people knew.

Hushed words were buzzing through the air whilst everyone tried hard to go back to their chores. The guards being more wary and defensive especially that the Hirikkas on the other end didn't leave the rivers after raising the white flag. Servants couldn't look you in the eye now after the commotion or particularly because Kolby was crouched beside while you went back to sit on the large stone.

He was breathing out large breaths through his snout while you scrubbed the dirty laundry again that Drishti has ruined, hearing a primal murmur of an animalistic whirr of his lungs.

"Ger...Ger...alt...Gwenn...bleid,"

Your eyes simply went wide at that, quickly understanding what words he was trying to form. Blood seeming to be pumping faster through your heart like you were hearing the first words of your child, excitement and curiosity rushing all around.

"You talk?! Are you curious as to where Geralt is?" Kolby gave a wince of his muzzle, snarling to himself like his sudden talking was making him hurt. You've quickly reached out and scratched the back of his long, wide, sharp ears that made him bark in felicity.

"He's not here though. Geralt is probably out in the woods hunting for the witch to get me out of this castle. Then, after that...I'm probably going back to where I came from because we had a fight,"

Kolby's doe eyes stared straight to your soul, whimpering as if he understood what you meant. The Hirikka subtly shook his head, making you furrow your brows from his peculiar gestures.

"You don't believe me?" only a loud sniff of his nose was given as an answer. He made a noise at the back of his throat that only he could do---sounding like a purr and a growl. Kolby sniffed another on your apron, across your stomach before promptly sitting up straight. His eyes as wide as the sun was shining above you whilst he suddenly screeched in a high-pitch tone for three times. Pausing in every yelp that got you covering your ears for how loud it was.

You were about to ask him what was wrong when he stood up on his paws, his teeth chattering like how cats are whenever they're on a hunt. The other Hirikkas loudly howling before Kolby sprinted beside you and paved away for the second time.

"Kolby! No! Come back! Not again!"

Your Hirikka was the only precious warmth you could remember like how a home can give. But, now; even Kolby was running away from you just like how Geralt chose to disregard the warmth you sincerely felt for him.

"Can't I have one day of rest?"

The exhausting day finally came to an end. Your chest feeling more and more heavier each day---probably having more weight than what you usually hold on to when you're upset. With Geralt's feelings overflowing yours and combining with the disappointment you had for him.

In the deepest part of your heart, there was still the obvious yearning to be in the arms of your witcher as days went on. The curse of the djinn being also somewhat a connection of souls you had with Geralt. Combination of feelings being stronger each day but never knowing what it truly was. Undisclosed secrets never been told to each other which heightened more of the weight on both of your shoulders.

With your back towards the door, the druid stood upon the threshold with stuff on his feeble arms.

"Wear this," Eanraig took several steps closer, placing the basket of womanly essentials on the side table of your bed. He slowly lowered the dress on the foot of the mattress before you rolled on your back with a whimper of your sore muscles.

"---The queen has set you a gown for a feast,"

"Is this the day I die?" you deadpanned, staring at the ceiling, "---this happens in the movies. They become good to me for one day because I'm dying the next. I'm naive, but not entirely stupid. Thanks, Eanraig."

Lifting yourself up on the bed, your back leaning against the headboard. You've maneuvered on all fours, crawling towards the lacy gown displayed along the golden sheets of the mattress. The color of the dress singing praises over the hues laid upon. Raising quite a heavy dress saluting back at you was a raven painted renaissance dress dangling over the bust part of a woman's body with a thin, see through fabric that fell along the arms like a sleeve to cover them up.

It was beautiful since black was a color you've always opted to wear back in earth. The color being basic and not difficult to match up with accessories. Yet, the whole gown seemed to be a planned outfit because of how gothic it looked, like the dress was meant to wear for something else.

Your mouth fell into a gloomy frown, realizing what this whole jet-black look was giving.

"A death dress. Wow. I'm impressed."

Eanraig couldn't help but scratch the nape of his neck, avoiding your callous guise and the idea of what you said, "If you still want to live or see the Witcher and give him his progeny then you must attend the feast that was planned for you---somehow, it is."

Dropping the dress back on the sheets, your mouth was set on a thin line as you speak, "---and pretend I'm happy like they didn't beat the shit out of me?"

There was a beat of silence that filled the chambers he was in. Eanraig unconsciously scratched his whitening beard, sitting on the side of the bed beside you, "Just remember to stay low and never create a scene,"

"Tell your knights to not touch me then,"

A long deafening pause lingered between you. Eanraig's grey eyes filled with dread from what he misunderstood over what was said, quickly thinking about your witcher when he knows you have been 'touched' without your consent. Geralt would never get to tranquilize his savagery regardless whether a sorceress, wizard or any of the royal family stood before him when you have been abused for more than what was expected.

They've promised not to touch you. The witcher wouldn't take such broken promises without having their heads sliced from his hands.

"Were you..." the druid uttered and was lost in his trepidation, suggesting that their assaults have been more to that.

You were quick to shake your head firmly, swallowing that uncomfortable feeling down your throat from even just thinking about it. Knights and guards never did touch you in that way because of how they've loathed your relationship by being the witcher's tramp---thinking that you were one disgusting human they can never tolerate to try and bed you. Somehow, you were thankful that they've found you disgusting rather than appealing because you didn't know what to do nor have the energy to live on their world knowing that they have paved their way to have you.

Your spine felt the cold prickle, making you shiver and grabbing a hold of yourself by placing both of your palms on either side of your arms, more hopeless without any comfort around you but yourself.

"No. Not in that kind, Eanraig." pause. You've quickly changed the topic, "---I've never had any sleep since the moment Geralt left."

It's definitely not comfortable to be sleeping in a huge castle where memories of men beating you up shadowed on the four corners of the room. Frigidness completing your night where you have done nothing but stare from a distance, waiting for the moment where it was finally time to leave. The jocular memories filling your evening with nothing but the smiles of Jaskier, Cirilla and Geralt, excruciating when it came to reminiscing in the exact moment where Geralt had you in his arms by night, shushing you to sleep when he wasn't out to kill actual monsters and he was just there to protect you from yours.

"Having no proper sleep may harm the baby."

A sardonic laugh filled the room. The baby inside you was giving more complications upon staying in the castle, knowing that Ingrith hated you for it and for what the child was capable of. If only she could slice your throat, she probably would have done it in your sleep. Yet, the sorceress seemed to be like a person who held a name where she couldn't do any obvious wicked schemes that will harm her status.

"It's not like this castle isn't dangerous 24/7. You think I can sleep knowing that Geralt would actually leave me alone and I raise this child all by myself in a world I hardly know about?"

Now, Eanraig had the chance to skip the topic to something else, trying not to stress you more because he knew that a pregnant woman shouldn't be in distress from any begrudging news or complications. In due course, he was finally understanding that you overthink about such things where it could be affecting your mental state no matter how sooner or later, you'll be muttering how Geralt could sip tea with his monsters then sobbing afterwards because you were mindlessly missing to stay at his home. All away from the troubles that everyone was giving.

"I am unaware of women's essentials. But, I have brought you what I have retrieved from Cynthia. She has adviced for you to doll up being pretty as a princess," he was caught up in his own thoughts, pointing at a basket laid beside the bed. An unfamiliar name of a woman that he hardly ever mentioned until tonight.

With the ends of your lips raising into a smile, you couldn't stop the teasing gaze given to the druid which made him throatily chuckle while crawling to take a peek inside the basket, "It's...make up. This Cynthia you call, is she your wife?" unconsciously, your brows wiggled to goad over how timorous he suddenly became.

Even the magical so called 'druid' had his own rocky relationship with a woman.

Love. What's in it for you between Geralt? was it the affection bound to be felt for him?

You were reading the signs---his signs as if he was being hot and cold. Push and pull. Jumping and then taking a step back whenever he was swimming too deep, hesitant over such that you may never know until he tells.

"I'm afraid so, Little woman. But hardly my betrothed." the scholar chuckled and shook his head, turning his head to see you shuffle under the sheets, slipping in and hugging the blanket over your body longing for a witcher's touch regardless of being in a fight with him.

"Not official then. Hmm."

"You are starting to be the same as your witcher,"

A brow was lifted as you heard him acknowledge the fact that you were catching onto Geralt's habits of humming, your mouth forming a tight thin line as if he was sharing that you were slowly becoming one with him.

"Thanks for the dress and make-up, Eanraig. I just want to leave this castle for good already." you sneered, promptly laying down on the bed. Your back away from the druid which got him raising his brows because of your never ending worries.

Well, if you weren't living in a world like theirs and accidentally transported to their dimension with the lore of monsters---he certainly would go crazy just like how you were deeply pondering over circumstances.

"Back where you came from? Or back in your home with Geralt?"

"I...don't know,"

The bed squeaked as Eanraig shifted against the mattress, scooting closer to prove the witcher's understandable logic, "You know he didn't mean to say that. If anyone knows more about him in this castle, it must be you, Little Woman." he stated as a matter of fact, leaving no arguments on the latter part of his sentence.

Though, feeling attacked over pointing the blame on you felt like wildfire.

"He called me pathetic and wanted me to shut up, Eanraig."

"He's been called more than just displeasing names if we were to talk about his experiences. Geralt has created barriers over people that sometimes slips in between moments like this," he paused for a beat of second, continuing to provide more assurance and knowledge over his perspectives.

"---Maybe, you must have upset him too---hurt him in such ways which made him defensively talk back,"

Your lower lip quivered from the horrid truth that Geralt's friend managed to let out for you to think through, saving the best reason for last about the motives why you were acting snappy and cranky from the start.

"He doesn't love me,"

The scholar couldn't help but lowly chuckle beneath his breath, sounding like a scorn or derision that made you curl up like a ball under the sheets that was thrown over your head.

"But, he's out there finding a witch that is difficult to find. Correct?" pause. "---Even had killed men for you that no other men could do in the continent. So, how sure are you to say that his feelings aren't love?"

Another dreading beat of silence came after. The constant pauses being a fear for receiving more hurtful truths that kept you whining throughout the night.

You kicked your foot inside the sheets, facing front against the bed like a plank. Your voice sounding muffled through the soft fabric, "He...was searching for his lost lover before I came around."

"Before you came around," he repeated in a sing-song tone, "---Is he still searching for her whereabouts?"

"I...don't know. People have been telling me that he isn't meant to love another,"

Eanraig smiled to himself, his palms slapping his knees whilst he stood with a persuasive tone, "Then, you don't have enough trust and faith for him when you are giving him doubts. You are just like other people who sees him as the mutant that they all tell---a witcher who has no emotions nor is capable of having,"

The latter turned his back away. Deciding to leave you alone after pushing your hesitance through the limits. You just needed a push over actually trying to be the matured one---a mind of a mother who would only care for her child or family than herself. He knew it was in there, the femininity after knowing from Tybalt that you have begged to be taken rather than for Geralt's child of surprise to be kidnapped, including the humble bard whom has received beatings from the army.

As he stood, Eanraig heard a quiet sob followed suit and a hiccup from keeping everything too long to yourself---even kept everything from the witcher because you didn't have it in you.

"I-I don't! I don't see him as that! You don't get to judge me!" another hiccup resonated in the room, your stuttering making the druid frown from how small and fragile you instantly seemed to be. Knowing that one of the reasons why Geralt has been protecting you with all the risks included.

You were certainly like a bread before it has even been baked. A dough that appeared and felt to be soft once touched, your characteristics needed to be molded to make you stronger in their world. Sensitiveness being a sole weakness and he knew Geralt would've seen it with one look. Unless, the witcher must've loved how vulnerable and helpless you are---your naivity and innocence over lots of things has Geralt keeping you closer to his side.

Maybe, the witcher doesn't want you to change at all.

The druid knew that because even with Cynthia, he loved all her attributes and personality with all his heart. Accepting her imperfections and weaknesses as a part of her that makes her...human.

"---I love him, Eanraig. I love Geralt. I genuinely fell for him before I even know it and this child we have isn't helping when I know he would only ever love me as a woman that will eventually fade when she comes back around!"

Sobbing under the sheets was better than bawling your eyes out for another man to see. You went on in sobbing and curling into a fetus position, hearing Eanraig sigh but never seeing the regret in his eyes by triggering you into becoming this sobbing woman who would cry the night away.

"I'm sure he knows how you feel for him, Little Woman. Tell him before it's too late," he scratched his beard with his thumb, seeing you shift under the blankets and turning half away but not actually seeing your face as you were still hiding inside the sheets.

"---No matter how deep he's fond of you or not because you both have created a bundle of joy who is bound to walk through the continent. I am sure she has been made with love," Pause.

"Regrets won't get you living in happiness because you'll always come back to the moment where you hope to have confessed," Eanraig gave a small smile you never saw as you continued to wail. The bond that the Djinn has cast you both in gradually making you suffer from its yearning it was having for the witcher who was not there for you to hold nor talk to. The scholar knew it has given you both such connection that won't be easy to break.

"---Geralt's not entirely inhuman. You both have shared a bond together that nobody can ever experience. Never fear for the witcher who has captured your fragile heart---who knows, you might have captured his since then.Yet, he doesn't give candor due to his brooding persona. Don't let fear conquer the love you have for him,"

Sorry for the typos and errors! I've edited this all in my phone. (via Wattpad) Spare me an error please? HAHAHAHAH! COMMENTS OR FEEDBACKS WILL MAKE MY HEART TWERK! GO DO IT, BB! Tell me your guesses as to what will happen when it's finally the night of the feast in the castle! 😉🙈

Taglist for WOTN: (Strikethrough means your blog can’t be tagged. Please check your settings, bb’s! Thank you.) @alyxkbrl @himarisolace @barkingbullfrog @ayamenimthiriel @hellodevilslittlesister @turkish276 @spookypeachx @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us @nympeth @amirahiddleston @gabethelobster @dreaming-about-fanfictions @uncoolcloudyhead @melaninstylezz @psychosupernaturalhero @missjenniferb @dance-dreamer @marvelousell @kingniazx @angelias134 @tapismyforte @chook007 @butterpumpkinscotch @deadlydemon @cheesecakeisapie @angelofthor @carrieannewaywardson, @plantingmum, @stuckupstucky, @shesthelastjedi, @a–1–1–3, @gutfucks, @raynosaurus-rex, @britty443, @suhke3, @shadowclawstudio88, @ruthoakenshield, @just-a-sad-donut, @gxrdenr0se, @singeramg @friendlyneighbourhoodweirdo, @alexwinchester23, @naturalthrone22

Overall witcher taglist: @pizza-eater-i-ate-the-pizza, @crazybutconfidentaf

General taglist for any Henry Cavill fics: @agniavateira, @iloveyouyen, @rahdaleigh, @silverkitten547, @henrythickcavill, @kaatelyyynn, @marvelousell, @madelinelina, @summersong69, @raynosaurus-rex, @fckdeusername, @evansislife

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letshaikyuu · 4 years

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Hi! ☺️ Can I request a one shot where the reader is dating Oikawa and he introduces her to the team but she looks like one of those types of mean girls so the team thinks she’s gonna be one of his old gfs that are really clingy or rude to the team but she actually ends up being the most wholesome/sweetest person ever? Thank you 🥺

ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴏɪᴋᴀᴡᴀ ᴄᴀɴ ꜱᴄᴏʀᴇ

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: when Oikawa brings his girlfriend to practice one day, the team sees all of his exes in her; but, Seijoh is definitely in for a nice surprise

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: fluff, mild angst if you really squint and think deeper than the story itself – totally unnecessary if you ask me

ᴀ/ɴ: making Oikawa’s life sad and difficult is my spiritual calling, thank you anon <3 it’s no 5k smut or 10k slow-burner, but I hope my 2k fluff will be able to make up for the fact that I literally had nothing prepared for him this morning T^T

Oikawa talking nonsense during practice wasn’t anything unusual; especially during the evening practice after a school day, and while everyone needed some well-deserved rest, Oikawa seemed to fuel himself with his nonstop talking.

“Is there an off button on him or something?” Makki groaned as he listened to Oikawa talk about how he made a new Pinterest board the previous night with new milk bread recipes he found and wanted to try; and when he said he, he meant Iwaizumi because out of the two, he’s the only decent cook.

“I’m not spending my money and time on making you milk bread, Shittykawa.” Iwaizumi made himself clear as he was folding the net. He rolled his eyes when Oikawa started whining, telling them how he really needed a good and decent milk bread made for next week. It was then that Mattsun came along and joined the trio bickering, Oikawa’s comment stuck with him as he smirked at the whining boy.

“Since when do you need a milk bread made for a specific day? You eat them whenever no matter the time and day.” He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back on one of the net’s poles, smirk widening as he saw the blush on Oikawa’s face growing in intensity. Makki looked between the two, not missing Mattsun’s wink, and seemed to catch on. Iwaizumi looked among the three, interested, but still too tired to actually keep up with the conversation itself.

However, the way his best friend was glowing red, hands manically waving in front of him made Iwaizumi all the more curious. He looked between the smirking pair and his frantic friend, all the puzzle pieces seemingly falling into place. But, that meant...

“You have a girlfriend, Shittykawa?” Oikawa pouted and averted his eyes from Iwaizumi’s stare. Bingo.

“I can’t believe you’re dating someone and didn’t bother telling us,” Makki jokingly sobbed and wiped a fake tear from his eye, watching as Oikawa buried his face in his hands. “How long have you two been together?”

They could hear Oikawa murmur something, but it was inaudible, his words muffled by his hands. “Come again?” Mattsun teased, approaching the shorter male and removing his hands from his red face. Iwaizumi stood by the side, smirking at the thought of his best friend having a girlfriend. It was most likely one of his one-week relationships, he thought as he waited for Oikawa to answer.

“Three months...”

Huh? They looked at each other and back to Oikawa, the male pouting, the gym floor grabbing his attention. His eyes were fixed downwards, not daring to look any of his closest friends in the eye. He knew what they would say, but he didn’t have the will to listen to that same conversation for the millionth time.

“You’re telling me,” Iwaizumi started, slowly approaching the trio and leaving the net behind, “you’ve been dating someone for three months and didn’t tell us?” Oikawa visibly flinched at the way he emphasized the duration of his relationship. If he were in Iwaizumi’s shoes, he would’ve felt bad and left out as well.

“I knew what you were going to say, so I stayed quiet,” Oikawa said to the trio, shrugging his shoulders.

“Wow, what a valid reason.” Makki joked and slightly glared at the brunette, “we have to repeat it all the time because you never learn.”

Oikawa’s eyes widen at his comment, but immediately narrowed. “I never learn? What is that supposed to mean, Makki?” He crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze hard as he looked at him. Both Mattsun and Iwaizumi could see where this was heading, so they decided to intervene.

“What he meant, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi stood a few meters in front of him, “is that...you never know how to pick out a proper partner for yourself.”

Oikawa looked taken aback, again, as the other two nodded and confirmed Iwaizumi’s comment. “That’s true. All your previous relationships included bitchy chicks, how do you even find them?”

“I, how, what...that’s so not true!?” He stumbled on his words, curls bouncing on the top of his head as he rapidly shook his head in denial. “I always choose them right.”

Mattsun quirked an eyebrow at that comment. “So, when your second ex-girlfriend came to practice and poured soda on you because you spent ‘too much time at practice’ and cheated on you the next day, is your vision of choosing the right girl?”

“Or when your third ex-girlfriend started spreading rumors at school that we’re all gay and fuck each other daily in the locker room? And, she also cheated on you that same week.”

Oikawa kept quiet while they started listing all of his failures of relationships. “Okay, fine!” He stopped them, too embarrassed to have them continue rambling on, “I know I’ve made a few mistakes in the past-“

“A few?”

“Oh, shut it Makki,” he glared at him before continuing, “I am aware of my mistakes, but she’s different. This relationship is different.” He looked at them, his eyes pleading them to accept his decision, but they were all too familiar with Oikawa’s state post-breakup to let him go through it again.

“I’m not sure, Oikaw-“

“I’ll bring her to our next practice!” He cut Iwaizumi off, his sudden yell surprising all of them. Oikawa seemed to realize what he blurted out and ran a hand through his hair, cursing at himself for rushing into things. “I didn’t want you guys to meet her, yet,” he started, sighing as he looked back to his friends, “but, I promise you. She’s different from the others.”

The trio exchanged glances, Oikawa’s pleading eyes dancing across every one of his friends.

Iwaizumi sighed. “Fine. We can’t wait to meet her then.”

Oikawa scoffed, looking at his friends one more time before exiting the gym. “I’ll prove you guys wrong.”

Oikawa wanted to barf. He had the urge to turn around and run away from the gym doors and you, he had the need to be alone; even though standing beside him was someone he could finally call his true partner. A girlfriend who didn’t want to spread false rumors, who didn’t want to pour soda on him, who didn’t want to cut his volleyball shoes...

Oikawa finally felt like he hit the jackpot with you, but, what if he stumbles upon a dead-end once again, when the team finally sees you and tell him you’re not right for him?

“Tooru,” your gentle voice pulled him away from his thoughts, “why are you so nervous?” You tightly held one of his hands in yours while the other carried a bag filled with sweets. You looked at your boyfriend’s worried face, providing him with a reassuring smile to calm down his nerves.

“I’m just...I don’t even know.” He let out a groan, throwing his head back. Few weren’t aware of Oikawa’s past relationships, they were that known and the way they were broken off was also something to remember. You were one of the many that knew exactly how Oikawa Tooru got screwed over, time and time again.

“We can do this.” You give his hand a tight squeeze and placed your hand on the gym door, ready to push it open. “Ready?” He looked at you again, a nervous smile on his face as he weakly nodded; he was nowhere near ready, but he had to do this for you and the relationship.

“Ready.”

Pushing the door open, the sound made the team stop their practice to look at the people entering. The rest of the team was aware that they’d have a visitor, but none of them were particularly excited when they found out it was Oikawa’s girlfriend.

“Do I have to bring a new set of shoes for Oikawa or hope that she won’t spread any more false rumors?” It was Kunimi who talked first after finding out about the visitor, making everyone chuckle and laugh at the memory.

“Maybe she’ll do something completely different,” Makki added in on the fun, the laughter ongoing as the team waited for their captain to come with his new girlfriend.

Iwaizumi cracked a smile as well, but he couldn’t overlook the nervous feeling in his stomach. His best friend may be an idiot, but he wasn’t a bad person. It was like everything was against Oikawa finding a decent partner, let alone someone he can consider for the long-run.

He only watched as they joked around, his eyes constantly looking at the gym door, waiting for them to open. He prayed that whoever comes into the gym and beside Oikawa, was someone he could actually call Oikawa’s girlfriend.

And there, at the entrance was someone who had a striking resemblance to Oikawa’s previous girlfriends.

“Doesn’t she remind you of ex-girlfriend number four?” Yahaba whispered to the team, eyeing you curiously. “What did she do again?” Kindaichi whispered back, the number of relationships his senpai has had overflowing his memory. “She’s the one who cut his jersey because he had practice and couldn’t fit in a date,” Makki added, not whispering at all and earning himself a hard slap across the back. He winced and glared at Iwaizumi, rubbing the sore spot as he straightened his back.

“Guys,” by the time the commotion settled, Oikawa and his girlfriend were already in front of them. “This is my girlfriend, Y/N. And Y/N, this is my team.” He introduced you to the team, you smiling at them before formally introducing yourself.

“It’s nice to finally, meet all of you! Oikawa talks highly about his team and I couldn’t wait to meet you,” you smiled at the team, but they only looked at you shocked in return. Makki leaned in to whisper in Watari’s ear. “She smiled...but there was no hint of evil in it?” He yelped at the force of Iwaizumi’s hand slapping the back of his neck.

He was also the first one to approach you. “Nice to meet you Y/N.” He shook your hand and give you a small smile, “I’m Iwaizumi Hajime, your boyfriend’s best friend.”

And, with that, every team member introduced themselves to you.

“Why is she acting so nice?” The team gathered around the bench, looking at you as you laugh and talk to Oikawa; his face burning red as the tips of his ears become hot. Iwaizumi kept looking closely at you, not knowing what to make of this situation. Since when could Oikawa find someone like you on his own?

“What is wrong with all of you!?” Oikawa whispered, appearing out of nowhere and making Makki drop his water bottle. They all look at their captain, his face red, but they couldn’t guarantee that it was the same blush he had from earlier, while he was talking to you.

“You’re acting like she’s the spawn of Satan! Can’t you see she’s normal?” He sighed exasperatedly and ran a hand through his hair. “Well, considering that all your previous girlfriends were the devil itself, you gotta give us a break,” Mattsun added and looked at you talking to Kyoutani and Yahaba.

Both of them looked rather calm and willing to talk to you, to the surprise of many. Kyoutani isn’t someone who you’d describe as people-friendly, but he didn’t look intimidating as usual while talking to you, and he seemed interested in whatever you were talking about.

Oikawa glared at him and turned his direction to Iwaizumi, looking directly at his best friend and making Iwaizumi’s eyes widen in surprise with the intensity of his stare. “Don’t you trust me?”

Iwaizumi was ready to answer, he truly was, but he couldn’t help but thank you for arriving at the given moment – his words wouldn’t be so encouraging and positive.

“Hey, guys!” They turn to look at you rummaging through the bag you brought with you. “I know how hard practice is for all of you, so I bought some protein bars for you guys!” Out of the bag, you took out a dozen and more protein bars, handing them out to each of them. “I didn’t know what kind you guys liked, but Oikawa did tell me the brand you all preferred, so I just bought two of each kind!”

Adding all the sweet and caring acts together, the team stopped to think. Maybe Oikawa really found someone nice and caring. At least, that’s what the team could describe you. There wasn’t anything that made them etiquette you as a rude and clingy person, like all his previous girlfriends, so they relaxed. Maybe this was the time Oikawa actually made the right choice.

“Is there poison in this or?”

“Makki!” It was Oikawa this time that slapped him at the back of his neck at his joke, making you laugh and, soon enough, the rest of the team join in. It was unbelievable, but Oikawa actually hit the jackpot this time with you, and Iwaizumi could finally, sigh in relief.

#oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa imagine #oikawa headcanons #hq oikawa #oikawa x y/n #oikawa fluff #haikyuu #haikyū!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu writing #hq x you #hq x y/n #hq x reader

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lexpressobean · 3 years

Text

Parent/Teacher Night: Ch 2, Remember When

In which Shino recalls some thens and compares them to the nows, and gets inspired to change some things with Kiba's encouragement.

*Modern AU, Swearing

**You can find this on AO3 now too, along with the first chapter. Let's gooooooooo!!!

•••

"He asked to trade numbers?" Kiba repeated, pausing all motion, chopsticks mid snatch for a gyoza.

"Yes. Is that... Weird?"

"Well, no."

Kiba reached over and chose his specimen, a plump piece just asking to be dipped. Shino continued eat his steamed rice. It was okay if Kiba wanted the last of the gyoza. Shino thought he might enjoy a serving of the restaurant's ice-cream after he finished his meat instead.

"But even I don't have Shikamaru's number. Least not his current one."

"You don't?"

"Nah," Kiba took in the gyoza whole and spoke as he chewed, "but ah neber bothered doo update it, I hab 'im on my socials anyway."

"Oh."

He swallowed, "But you didn't even have any kind of social media until later in college. You were late to the game!"

"I didn't see the point then..."

"And that's fine. He probably doesn't even know you have them now. But you know he's been pretty absent from social media too. Figures."

"According to Ino, he's been back in town since April."

"Well of course Ino would know, she's always been in everyone else's business. Especially Shikamaru's, and Choji's too!"

Shino silently made a face, distorting the corner of his mouth as if reluctant to agree, but Kiba barked out a laugh when he caught him.

"It's true though, isn't it!? You would know, Shino!"

Shino didn't plan to be seen, but oh well, "I think it's just her way of showing she cares. Those three are practically family, aren't they?"

Kiba sighed and rolled his eyes, "Listen, dude, just cause you 'dated' her for a couple of years back in college doesn't mean you have to be nice after the fact. It's okay! She has her manipulative bitchy side too. How else could she make it as a therapist."

"Psychiatrist."

"That."

Kiba emphasized the word "dated" in such a way that caused Shino to scowl. Geez, if Ino didn't insist on sharing pictures online...

"Don't invalidate my opinions just because you think they're biased, Kiba. Also, people grow from high school, don't be stuck in the past either."

"I'm not saying it's invalid, geez, but ever since you've always been soft on her..."

"Jealous?"

Kiba immediately threw a dirtied, crumpled up napkin at Shino's head as he blew raspberries in disbelief. Of course Shino dodged it.

"And that!" Kiba almost yelled, though he had a huge smile on his face, "You're sass meter has been off the charts since then!"

"I thought I was just asking a question," Shino simply replied, though he smiled too.

"Fucking jerk," he crossed his arms and closed his eyes, sighing dreamily, "Why would I be jealous when I'm with Tamaki now?"

Shino suppressed the urge to crinkle up his nose, "I remember back in high schoo-"

"THAT WAS HIGH SCHOOL!!" Kiba interrupted, not upset but voice almost breaking in both embarrassment and amusement simultaneously, "Now who's the one stuck in the past!"

"Well anyway, I was just curious if you had heard from him recently, because this was the first time I had seen him since he was an undergrad. That was a while ago."

"Same here, bud. But then here's a thought, if he's just working these days, and he's giving out his number to old friends, maybe we should all get together sometime! So why don't you also friend him on socials while you're at it?"

Shino paused and considered the suggestion.

Shino could do that. Actually, Shino could have done so a long time ago if he had wanted to. But for all the times he had seen Shikamaru's obvious username and cloud icon, he never sent friend request himself. He created his socials for the sole purpose of studygroup based messaging and had planned to delete his social media after school ended for good. But two months in and Kiba somehow found him, and then shortly after Hinata did too. Then Naruto also found Shino and from there he actually aquired a few more friend requests, including from Lee and Sai. Even Ino sent him a friend request, though Ino and Shino had actually attended the same University in the beginning. And then she called him out on it the next time she saw him in person, because how could Shino friend nearly all their mutuals and NOT Ino? He even friended Sakura before Ino! Though, Shino had a suspicion Sakura's request may had been a result of clumsy typing. Shino definately hadn't meant anything by it, but that started a series of... interesting talks between the two. But all and all, Shino suspected that's why he saw Shikamaru's icon so often, among others he didn't quite recognize himself.

Of course Shino knew he didn't have to accept the requests at all. He could've delete them even. But... it didn't seem right to ignore them either. And maybe it felt... kinda nice being reached out to...

"I mean, shit, maybe I should shoot him a message too..." Kiba mused.

"... I was under the impression it was for Mirai's sake."

Kiba perked up, "Huh?"

"That's because a cellphone number is a personal and direct line. If Mirai is currently under my care as a student, wouldn't it make sense to have multiple contacts in case of an emergency?"

Kiba sighed. Typical Shino, "Did Shikamaru say it was strictly for emergencies only?"

"... No."

"So, Dude, maybe... just maybe, Shikamaru simply isn't aware that you have socials? I know I know... social media is meant to be for socializing, but so are direct lines! Why does a direct line have to be so off limits? You're not a stranger to Shikamaru either, Shino. I mean, if anything, he probably trusts you a lot, knowing the kind of person you've ways been. It's a personal line after all, right?"

Not a stranger, but definitely not the person closest the Shikamaru either... It didn't quite make sense beyond Mirai's safety... but, maybe that was Shino's own opinion...

"... I'm over thinking it again."

"Yup."

"... Maybe I will. I'm already friends with Ino and Choji..."

"Yeah! Just complete the trio! Here let's see..." Kiba took out his phone and started to review something, "... I think the only people you're not friends with besides Shikamaru are... Sasuke, who simply deleted everything at one point, Neji, but he really only followed me because of Hinata," Kiba added wearily, "aaand a lot of... other people... but, like, you're better off that way. I have a lot of those assholes blocked or didn't bother. Even Sasuke had been more better of an option than them!"

"Like who?"

"Like I had to block Shikamaru's psycho ex-girlfriend Tayuya. Fucking nightmare that girl was..."

"Ah... the flute player," Shino wasn't all that to date back in the day either, but even he knew about Tayuya...

"Sure that was YEARS ago, and maybe she's different now? But she was... not okay then. To be fair, Shikamaru wasn't blameless, but cripes... After the break-up she was constantly stalking him online... I've just kept her blocked for good measure, I don't know if she's still even there."

Another reason Shino didn't want social media at the time... It made it too easy to let people in. In all honesty the idea had felt overwhelming, and sometimes still does...

"So you're good there."

"Sasuke, Shikamaru, Neji..."

"... Anyone else?"

"... I think those are the last few people from back then I'd actually tolerate. Shikamaru had been your friend, and Sasuke... wasn't always so aloof before he disappeared... And then Neji is Hinata's cousin..."

"Ha! Perfect! So then why not friend Neji too, just for the hell of it? You two had some kind of bro pact, I do remember that."

"He just worried about Hinata, Kiba. Between you and Naruto, I could see why."

"Sue me Shino, it's not my fault the school was full of cute girls!" Kiba nearly whined, but with a ridiculously dopey smile on his face.

It made Shino think. Shikamaru was one of the only people he more regularly saw who didn't reach out to him. But of course Shikamaru had a problem with a stalker at one point. That would make anyone weary of social media. Kiba had even stated he wasn't on much. Shino couldn't fault him for that.

Sasuke apparently deleted his, but it wasn't like they were the closet to begin with, despite humble beginnings. Shino had his fair share of complaints when it came to Sasuke, but when he transferred to a different school before senior year started, even Shino felt his absence.

And recalling high school, Neji did once ask for Shino's socials before. But it was obviously for the same reason of wanting to keep extra tabs on his little cousin and her "new friends" in Environmental Club. Shino had already explained he didn't have any, and he wasn't sure Neji believed him, but had agreed to be very careful with Hinata, who had started to hang out with he and Kiba more after they returned her book she had left in the club classroom. Shino kept it as Kiba was terribly tempted to take a peek, but once it had been returned, and Kiba expressed his curiosity, Hinata shyly presented them with page after page of pressed flowers, all marked with name, date, and little tidbits of info. She became even more bashful at Kiba's amazement and Shino's praise. It was just very well organized and aesthetically pleasing, something she and Ino would bond over later into their friendships.

So then, it was very surprising to know that such a timid girl had an incredible amount of skill in Martial Arts, but had opted to join Environment Club instead of Martial Arts Club. It was less of a shock to find out she and the school's Number One MAC member were related, first cousins even. They had a strong resemblance to each other.

As for Shino and Neji, their mutual fondness for Hinata became a source of camaraderie at some point. Despite expectations and Neji's sterness, all he really wanted was for Hinata to simply have fun during school, and he very much appreciated Shino looking out for her. So Kiba wasn't wrong. And in current time, Hinata had ultimately decided she was gonna live out of town due to... many reasons, but mainly because of her job as a pastry chef in a very successful and family owned cafe and bakery. Of course cinnamon rolls were her specialty, but Shino's feed always had some of the most delightful pictures of various decorated confections, most made by her too. He wasn't the biggest fan of sweets in general, but he was very fond of her handy work. You could tell she loved her job with every detail.

"Crap! Hey Shino, did you wanna order anything to go?"

"Uh, no. I think that was enough."

"Alright cause it's about time I go meet Tamaki," Kiba grinned, "Here's my part!"

Kiba slammed a twenty dollar bill down onto the table and hurriedly put his jacket back on. When Shino looked at the time it was nearly half past six. Oh, the reservation was made for seven. Maybe he talked too much.

"We might've pushed it, Kiba."

"No way, it's fine! I mean I don't mind going if that's where she wants to go, but you know how fancy places are! I need food Shino, actual food!"

Shino was glad that his friend was putting in so much effort for this girl. It seemed like he really liked her, and she was pretty cute, and also... nice. But when it came to things like this, Shino wasn't sure how long this was really gonna last. But it probably wasn't his place to comment.

"Make sure Akamaru takes his medicine, he'll definitely down it if you give him the peanut butter too."

"Sure, no problem."

"Also, Shino."

"Yes?"

"Seriously, don't be so shy! Just friend them!"

"Stop dawdling, you're gonna be late."

Kiba laughed as he waved and nearly jogged out of the restaurant. After paying and boxing the rest of Kibas plate for later (Shino was sure his idiot friend was gonna be hungry again) Shino headed out to Kiba's apartment. He already had a key, ever since he had come back to town. They had always been close like that, though with these new developments Shino always made it a point to give Kiba space and a heads up.

Akamaru was getting old. This medicine was supposed to help him in his old age, and just as Kiba said, Akamaru took the medication with no problem. Shino also made sure that the bowls were full of water and food. Because there was now also Akemaru, a younger dog of the same breed that Kiba had come across one day at the shelter. After only a few weeks and no adoptions, Kiba couldn't resist and ended up adopting him, and he and Akamaru became very close. As a favor to their otherwise absent owner, Shino got the younger and more energetic dog ready for a walk. When Shino offered to take Akamaru, the old boy wagged his tail and came to lick Shino's hand, but then retreated back to his bed and laid down. Looks like that was gonna be a pass, but he was thankful for the offer.

...

Shit.

Okay. Okay, that was it. Actually, this was perfect. Before Shino really started the walk, he pulled out his phone. He scrolled through he recommended friends list of his most commonly used social and easily found the cloud icon that belonged to Shikamaru. It was the same app he even had people like Kurenai and his father on. Just being able to keep anyone of relevance to his social circles on the same app was fine. It kept them close, but not too close either. Available, but at a distance. The only other people who had Shino's personal line were Kiba, Hinata, Kurenai, his father Shibi, Torune and Neji.

Shino hadn't mentioned that to Kiba, but in reality, they hadn't kept much contact anyway. So Shino hoped Kiba didn't snoop his friends list later, but he decidedly sent Shikamaru a friend request and put his phone away into a pocket. Then after switching out his glasses, as to see better in the evening, he left the apartment and began his walk with Akemaru. This would definitely keep him from getting too anxious about it. Shino didn't really know why he was like this, but it was done and now it was up the Shikamaru if he really wanted to catch up. Not that there was a whole lot to catch up on. He was more Kiba's friend after all, always had been, but Shino was sure Kiba didn't really think about that kind if thing too deeply.

Thankfully there was a park a couple blocks down, which even in the evening looked easy to navigate. The air was fresh and chilly, but tolerable with his coat on. Akemaru was good on a leash, and so Shino was able to keep a steady but not rushed pace. He followed a predetermined path, one Shino was actually familiar with too and so he was able to relax as his body went into coast mode.

...

It was nice. Just focusing on the walk. But Shino couldn't help thinking back to his high school days too. Seeing Shikamaru hadn't really been a shock so much as a surprise. He definitely... grew. His voice was deeper. His hair seemed more or less the same length, but maybe looked longer as now he styled it differently. Instead of the low and rather disheveled ponytail he used to wear, he now kept it only half up it looked like. Shino didn't think it looked bad at all, but with some loose strands in his face and the more casual clothes he had been wearing, Shino really wondered if Shikamaru wasn't more or less dragged last minute to PTN. But maybe he was thinking of the Shikamaru from before. Because this Shikamaru was actually... really approachable. And very kind with his words. Maybe that's what growing up some did to people.

Because the one from before was always annoyed, and grumpy, and quiet unless spoken to, yet Naruto and his shenanigans always put a mischievous smirk on his face. Shino had found him a little intimidating. But it wasn't until Kiba and Naruto decided to drag Shino AND Hinata out to a lunchtime hangout and pretty much threw them into the mix of different friends they shared that Shino met Shikamaru, as well as most everyone else. Shino had recognized Ino, and Ino did too after he mentioned Torune, seeing as Torune and Foo both graduated the year before.

"Torune? Like, short black hair, really thick glasses?"

"He has green eyes too."

"Hey, yeah! You're my cousin's boyfriend's cousin! What a small world!"

It was pretty lame introduction.

"And... you're Ino, right?"

"Wow, Ino, he remembered you!" a pink haired girl chastised.

"Oh, shut up, Forehead, it's not like we ever really hung out before. I think we met, like, once at one of Foo's birthdays?"

"That's true," Shino agreed, "I just went for the drive to drop off his present since that day he couldn't stay. You're mom insisted on giving us goodie bags anyway before we left."

"Ugh, good, our parents always go over the top with the decorations and stuff, believe me!"

"Ino, you are over the top."

"Shikamaru, no one was talking to you!"

"Wait, wait wait, your cousin Foo has a boyfriend?"

"Yeah, what of it," Ino immediately scowled at Kiba.

It made Kiba shut up immediately, but then he turned to Shino and whispered, "Hey, is your cousin gay?"

Shino shrugged, "I didn't ask, but it's none of my business." He was. Shino had known but Torune never outright told him they were officially dating. So as far as he was concerned it was a mystery.

"What about you, Hinata, I don't think we've met before. I'm Sakura."

"Um, hello-"

"Actually! We're in Home Ec together!" another boy munching on chips said, "She made the best cinnamon rolls in class the other day!"

Hinata blushed, "Ah, thank-you, Choji..."

"Cinnoman rolls!? I saw that that roll! Hinata, that was yours!?" Naruto asked, super impressed.

She only blushed even harder, "It might've been...!?"

"It was!" Choji confirmed.

"Naruto stop crowding already!" Sakura scolded, poking him against the side of his forehead, "You can be so loud!"

"Augh, alright, Sakura stop!"

It had actually been a relatively friction free integration. Hinata and the girls got along faster than he would've guessed, and later Shino and Sasuke would meet again, with Naruto giving Shino a suspicious stink-eye.

"We've been in the same classes since elementary school," Shino commented, "You have to really go out of your way to ignore someone for that long..."

"Hn..." As friendly as always...

...

From then on, Kiba always insisted on Shino and Hinata joining them at lunch, which Shino did. But Shino couldn't quite fathom the idea of sacrificing his after school time to go to out and do... well, who even knew? Back then, he had a routine, he had things to tend to back home. His terrariums that his father put him in charge of, his guitar practice because he wasn't about to let those lessons go to waste, his study time, and planning for EC activities as he was a more involved member, he was already a busy guy. At least that's what he used to think. But he would be a sad ass liar if he didn't appreciate the invitations. Towards the end he broke a few time at his father's insistence. He was mentally drained each time, but he did have fun, and Kiba always seemed excited to recall the events with Shino after.

Once he had attended collage, Shino really wished he would have taken more time to simply enjoy a more decent social life with the people he called friends at school outside of school. Was he too shy? Was he too selective? Was he socially inept? It didn't matter now. It wasn't until Shino's very first job that he felt like he got to a level he wished he could've reached sooner. Being a cashier at a fast food chain really taught you how to handle and tolerate people, and definitely brought Shino out if his shell more than he would've ever thought. College in general did a lot for him in that respect.

... Kiba was right. If old friends were reaching out, why couldn't Shino do the same?

Well, apparently the universe was glad he agreed, because the second he did, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

Shino stopped in place and Akemaru whined. When he checked his phone, he saw not only a "Request Accepted" message but also a simple text message as well, also from Shikamaru.

-----

Hey, can you talk? Call me if you can.

-----

Oh what the fuck.

Shino felt his nerves stand at attention with the prospect of a sudden conversation. What... What did Shikamaru even want right now? Did he really want to talk now?

... No. No, dammit, no! Not this time. Shino took a deep breath and continued to walk, much to Akemaru's delight. And as he got a steady rhythm, Shino highlighted Shikamaru's number and pressed "Call".

It was settled. If he was gonna start making up for lost time, it was now or never, awkward interactions be damned!

#anime: naruto #shikashino #aburame shino #shino aburame #shikamaru nara #nara shikamaru #dusk's fanfic #gosh look at me im on a friggin roll wtf #i know it probably has a lot left to be desired technically and diction wise #but im trying!

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stanzoeywade · 4 years

Note

Hi! I loved your tinder!AU for Veronica, really hope you decide to write the dating headcanons because there's so little content for her going around!

I gotchu anon, I gotchu.

Taglist: @somewillwin @belvoiresqueenbee @origmansello @clownery-is-a-new-personality @kamilahtrash @poppysminion @poppysimp @minsinclair-lee @poppysmc @iiizdumb @uselesslesbianfr @scattered-to-the-winds @idiot-justidiot @toyhenoctus @begoniathotia @otakufangirl-12 @malvinghlein

Dating Veronica Lombardi

SFW

• The two of you formally meet after you and Poppy have that supposed truce, and whilst you have seen Veronica before, seeing her close up was a different experience entirely. She's drop dead gorgeous, you can't help but admit and you understand why she's top three alongside Poppy and Chloe because they're all pretty.

• Veronica is much more social than Poppy and Chloe, she's more friendly and actually attempts to befriend you. This is because she doesn't really care if Poppy gets angry, she's got her own platform so she's not scared to make new friends and she knows Poppy's not going to do anything to her.

• The two of you become fast friends and it's really fun because the two of you start to hang out where it's just the two of you. Your favourite spot to hang out is the cute little café by campus, and you learn that Veronica has a major sweet tooth.

• Veronica is also the type of person who's very affectionate, both in the way she speaks and acts. She's very touchy-feely and always likes hugging you whenever she sees you.

• If either of you is having a bad day, expect a lot of memes to be sent, some so obscure that it actually makes you feel better. There's also the fact that if you have spare time or if you're not doing anything the other gets food and drinks from the cafe and the two of you just talk to release stress.

• Veronica's instagram is quickly taken over by you, where it's almost always accompanied by #squadgoals and you just laugh because you didn't really think that you would be friends with her. Not because she wasn't nice or anything, just that she looked so intimidating when you first met. When you tell her about your first impressions she just laughs it off and tells you that she thought you were cute.

• You're confused because is she flirting??? The two of you actually become really close and the whole school notices, a few people start to assume that you're dating but they don't say anything.

• The two of you really like each other, but both of you are oblivious until Poppy and Chloe point it out by pulling you away to give you the talk. Both look intimidating as fuck, and you're highkey scared. "What the fuck is happening between you and Veronica? I swear if you try to hurt her you can kiss Belvoire goodbye." Poppy says whilst Chloe nods her head in agreement.

• You're confused because you and Veronica are just friends, until it clicks. 'Holy shit, am I into Veronica?' you think. (Da doy idiot, everyone thought it was obvious)

• When you finally admit it Poppy and Chloe, you don't notice it but Poppy sort of has a disappointed look. (I know this is for Veronica but I wanted Poppy to be sad because she could've have tried harder to befriend MC)

• "Holy shit, I like Veronica! Can you guys help me? I don't know if she likes me or not." you say and Poppy and Chloe just roll their eyes as they begrudgingly agree.

• Cue Poppy and Chloe being the worst wing women, Veronica gets more confused because what is going on?? Like why are the three of you acting so weird.

• You're about to give up because it looks like Veronica doesn't like you that way. That is until you and the top three girls of Belvoire go clubbing. Veronica notices that you were dancing with another person too close for her comfort, and she's immediately annoyed. She quickly pulls you towards her and glares at the other person who gets the message and leaves you alone.

• You're confused until you see the silent fury in Veronica's eyes. "Jealous V?" you tease and her eyes narrow as she kisses you. "I don't like seeing you with other people. Be mine?" she says and you're left flustered because you genuinely didn't think that she liked you.

• That's how you start dating, and because of this you actually get closer to Poppy and Chloe. The four of you become a force to be reckoned with, and this is because all of you actually become really close and you learn that Poppy and Chloe can actually be sweet when they want to be. All three of them have a soft spot for animals, so the four of you are always seen at the animal shelter volunteering.

• Veronica adores taking pictures of you and posting it on her socials because she wants to show you off. Everyone is confused because are the two of you dating or not? It's kept a secret until someone snaps a photo of you and Veronica kissing.

• You become well known on campus as the laid back couple, who genuinely just have fun no matter what they're doing.

• Be prepared to be in front of the camera, Veronica drags you to do tiktoks with her and you just roll your eyes because you're whipped and you're not complaining if it means that you see Veronica dance.

• She absolutely adores giving you her clothes to wear, especially if her clothes are a bit bigger on you than they are for her. She melts when she sees you and her story is filled by her fawning over how cute you look.

• Lots of PDA, especially when the whole school knows about your relationship. Poppy and Chloe are disgusted, because can you like not. They always make gagging noises whenever you're being affectionate in public, and both of you just give them the finger.

• Always has to be touching you, whether it be your hands, her hand on your thigh or whatever she just has to be touching you in some way.

• Does not get jealous often because she's very confident in your relationship but in the times she does get jealous expect her to kiss you senseless in front of everyone, and you're not gonna complain because she's a very good kisser.

• Arguments don't really happen unless it's about something stupid and in the rare times that you do argue, it becomes a game of who can avoid each other for longer and Veronica always loses because she hates arguing.

• Cuddles every weekend, and you're almost always at Veronica's room, so much so the Zetas think that you live there.

• Expect soft mornings where the two of you just stay in bed, cuddling for warmth and soft kisses being exchanged after waking up.

• Absolutely adores kissing you and leaving marks. Poppy and Chloe tease you by saying "Are you dating a vampire? Wtf your neck is all marked up." and you just smile and give them the finger. "Fuck off, you're just jelly I'm getting some." you quip back and the other two laugh.

• Actually a really good support system with Poppy and Chloe, all of you don't take shit from anyone or each other. You're quick to call each other out if one of you is being a bit bitchy or whatever.

NSFW

• Veronica is a hard top, who absolutely adores teasing you and having you at her mercy.

• Absolutely adores having you on her lap as she fucks you with the strap, mainly because she can see the expression on your face as she fucks you. Also adores seeing you ride her thigh, it's one of her major kinks.

• Not afraid to be handsy in public, especially at the most inappropriate times and you're left a blushing and flustered mess. When you get up and go to the toilet, expect her to follow after you, and things get frisky.

• Major biting kink, every inch of skin she can reach expect there to be bite marks or hickeys. She's really good at mixing pain and pleasure and it's very very hot.

• Enjoys having you eat her out whilst she's sitting on a chair, and her hands will guide you where she want you.

• Doesn't like choking but isn't above using a collar on you, so that she can tug on it to force your head to tilt back as she kisses and bites your neck.

#poppy min sinclair #playchoices #queen b #choices #choices stories you play #queen b poppy #veronica lombardi #veronica x mc #queen b veronica #chloe st. james #queen b chloe #my fic #choices fic #hcs

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