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mostly-imagines · 27 days

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The Arkham Knight

jason todd x fem!reader

aka the arkham knight goes after the crevice in the red hoods armor

warnings: typical canon violence, threats to the reader including death & implied sa, nonconsensual touching for reader (not nsfw), reader gets cut with a knife, character death (not reader or jason), angst w comfort

**for the sake of this, we're going to pretend that the arkham knight isn't jason -- or that he's from an alternate universe or something if you prefer. in any case, red hood & the arkham knight co-exist in this fic

You wake up to a sensation that takes you a moment to place. Your eyes are still closed and the word conscious is barely even applicable to you, but still, you feel it.

There’s a hand wrapped around your neck.

Given that it's about one in the morning at this point and it’s not uncommon for your boyfriend to get very touchy after coming home from patrol, you didn’t dwell much on it.

His thumb strokes across your skin delicately, applying no real force with his grip.

You don’t feel his arm, though. Usually, you’d expect to feel the weight of at least his arm on you, as he laid next to you, hand resting on your neck. But you just feel his hand. No other weight on the bed at all, actually. Like he’s standing next to it.

That is something to dwell on, you think. You open your eyes and almost scream, before the hand on your neck swiftly clamps down over your mouth.

“Shhh.” he hushes.

You probably wouldn’t be too much less scared if it were some random burglar, but it’s not. You look at the helmet hovering above you and you recognize it instantly. That’s the Arkham Knight. Jason hadn’t said much about him but you know he’s been having altercations with him recently from the news.

Standard enough.

What’s not so standard is one of Red Hood’s enemies in your apartment, in your bedroom. That means he knows who Jason is. Not good. Not good at all.

The Knight uses his free hand to yank you up by your arm into a sitting position. Your thoughts are still going a mile a minute trying to process what the hell is happening when he hauls you over his shoulder.

You start to fight back, thrashing in his hold and hitting his back with as much force as you can muster, but you’re not surprised it doesn’t do much. This guy’s as big as Jason and it doesn’t take a vigilante to figure out that this is a fight you can’t win.

He jostles you on his shoulder a little bit, murmuring, “Easy, sweetheart. We’re just going on a little trip.”

You continue struggling against him and when you reach the apartment building hallway you start shouting, though you’re quickly shut up by him.

He plops you down on your feet, hands gripping your shoulders tightly. “Don’t make me hurt you.” He warns with venom.

If you’re going to get away it could only be now. But you saw the gun holstered to his thigh and based on the little that you know about him, he will shoot anyone that tries to help you without hesitation.

So you let him shove you outside and into the backseat of a black car without a fight, only starting to feel the consequences with the way he holds you incredibly close with a tight grip throughout the ride.

You end up at a warehouse at the edge of the city, filled with crates and storage containers that you’re assuming are stocked with weapons. Soldiers line the perimeters and block the exits, though you didn’t have much of a mind to try and run from the Arkham Knight anyways. The metallic glint off his gun from the lights warn you every time he moves.

He has you sat on a chair as he leans against a crate in front of you, not bothering to have tied your hands. He doesn’t seem to be in any rush to do anything with you, if anything, the way he idly lazes implies that he’s waiting for something. Waiting for Jason, you’d guess. A long fifteen or so minutes goes by—you know so because you counted the seconds in your head as an attempt to keep your mind away from the killer in front of you.

You’re dressed only in a loose t-shirt and sleep shorts, the Gotham night air bitter on your skin. It only gives you all the more reason to curl up into yourself, doing your best to cover your body.

He tilts your face to the side with the barrel of his gun. “You are a pretty thing, aren’t you? I can see why he keeps you.”

You snap your head away, eyes down and looking to the concrete floor. The sleeve of your shirt slips from your shoulder and you quickly yank it back up, much to the amusement of the Knight.

His shoulders shake lightly as he relaxes the gun to his side, “So, what? S’he your boyfriend or r’you just fucking each other?”

You try to keep your face neutral, keeping your eyes glued on the ground. “I just help patch him up sometimes. I don’t even know who he is.”

He takes a deep breath. “I’m going to ignore the fact that you just lied to me, but only because I already know the answer.” He pulls you in close and kisses the side of your head with his helmet before whispering in your ear, “Don’t lie to me again.”

You try not to let your shoulders shake as bad as they want to, though you’re sure he knows exactly how frightened you are anyways.

You huff quietly, attempting to show more courage than you have. “So what, all this for ransom? Just to piss him off?”

He tilts his head at you wryly, “No, I’m going to put a bullet in his head.”

Your mouth snaps shut.

“Ah. Yeah, if you were just fucking you wouldn’t have that look on your face right now.” He tuts, patting your cheek.

A series of gunshots outside the warehouse has you jumping in your seat.

The Knight claps his hands together, “Oh, here we go!”

He stands abruptly and pulls you up with him roughly, wrapping his arms around you to pin you against his chest. The few men scattered around the room drop one by one, quickly, though the Arkham Knight pays them no regard.

“Back away from her.” The modulated voice of his helmet calls out roughly. You can’t quite tell where he is, but he sounds up high—maybe in the rafters or set up at one of the windows.

“Easy, Hood. Pays to be mindful of the stakes.” He pushes your chin up with the barrel of the gun.

You can’t see him but you have a feeling he’s got his gun trained on you, waiting for the Knight to give him a decent shot.

You can tell how incensed he is, even from the distance as he shouts, “Put the gun down. Now.”

The Knight tsks, “Don’t make me do something I’ll kind of regret. She’s got too pretty of a face to die so soon.” He squeezes your cheeks as you try to pull your head away from his hands, with no avail. “And so messy.”

His free hand travels down your neck and squeezes. You try not to look scared, both to spite the Knight and for the sake of Jason’s concentration.

He backs you up into a mess of crates, gun persistently pointed to your head, and he yanks you down with him to duck behind them. You’re both mostly obscured from view, though you think the tops of your heads might still be visible from the angle Jason’s at.

“I’m not asking twice.”

The Knight ignores his threat, continuing on, “No, no, don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of her for you, Hood. She won’t miss a thing.” His glove drifts down your side, squeezing your waist.

Jason fires again, hitting startlingly close to the Knight’s head.

You take the momentary distraction to knee him in the groin which only makes him tighten his grip on you. “Oh, you…” he grunts. “You are a fighter, aren’t you?”

You sneer at him, “Fuck—” he yanks your hair roughly, pulling you into a better angle for him to hold onto you. “You.”

He squeezes your arm very hard, calling out, “On second thought, Jace, I’m thinking about cutting her open and letting her bleed out right here.”

He puts his gun in the holster before one of his hands pulls the bottom of your shirt up, the other flipping out a blade that he presses flat against your stomach. The knife is cold against your skin and the sensation is what allows you to finally admit to yourself that you’re scared.

This is somehow a hell of a lot more terrifying than the gun and you can’t swallow the fact that you’re one unlucky move away from being gutted in an abandoned warehouse at the edge of Gotham. Jason’s quiet and you can’t be sure that he’s not injured or stuck dealing with more soldiers. You visibly shake at the thought of really being on your own now.

The Knight clicks his tongue, tilting his head down at you as he watches you tremble. “Aw, I’m sorry. Am I scaring you?” He knicks your skin, purring, “It’s not personal, sweetheart.” He lets the blade drag a bit, widening the size of the cut. “Well, not for you.”

You grimace at the feeling of being sliced open, trying your hardest not to give him any reaction. Your body involuntarily slides down to the ground until you’re on your back with him crouched above you.

He pulls the knife back and you both take in the sight of your blood lining the side of it. Your eyes well with tears as he points the end of the knife down at your stomach, readying to pierce your skin in a far less superficial way.

A gunshot fires far closer than you were prepared for, making your entire body jump. The fear becomes visceral then, because your automatic reaction to the noise was to assume that you had just been shot by the Arkham Knight. But in actuality, the Knight himself gets knocked to the floor, the shot having hit the side of his helmet. A flash of red out of the corner of your eye has you flinching, though it darts right past you and onto the Knight.

Hood slams him fully onto the ground by the shoulders, trying to remove his helmet so he can fire a shot that's actually effective. The Knight fights against him, pushing him off of him and reaching to draw his own gun.

You’re dragging yourself backwards, crawling away to safety. You keep going until you can’t see them anymore; you’re too scared to see it play out, too scared to help, too scared to think.

The clamor of grunts and punches landing drowns your senses as you try to fold in on yourself into the smallest ball possible on pure instinct.

A shot fires, though the sounds of struggling persist. Another shot, followed by a curse that you can’t make out who it came from. You can see debris littering the air around one of the crates where one of the shots must have hit. A few seconds go by before a third shot echoes out and the scuffle slows to a halt.

It’s quiet for the longest few moments of your life and in the panic, you begin to lose all sense of what you’re waiting for. You forget to look up when you hear someone approaching you rapidly, only finding cessation to your concern when a pair of hands grabs your face, pulling your head up so he can see you.

You’re only barely able to process that it’s your boyfriend knelt in front of you, blood splattered on his armor. You know this is good, you’re grateful to see him, but you can’t feel anything but panic.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, taking in your emotional state. “Are you hurt?” His helmet scans over you frantically, hands trying their best to remain gentle on your face.

You try, but you can’t push the words out of your mouth.

Honestly, you just want to see him, see his face so you can start to feel safe again. But the sight of another inanimate helmet is doing nothing to calm you, in spite of you wholeheartedly trusting the person under it with your life.

His gaze finds the small pool of blood seeping through your shirt. He rushes to lift your shirt up, fussing over the laceration. It’s about two inches wide, but it’s shallow enough that it won’t need stitches. Once he determines that you don’t need immediate medical attention, he drops your shirt back down, leveling his face to yours.

“Sweetheart,” he whispers desperately, “Baby. Talk to me,” he brushes hair out of your face gently and the contact makes you jump on instinct, your adrenaline nowhere near lowering. If you were in any real state of mind right now you’d feel awful for flinching like that when he touched you, you know exactly how sensitive that is for him. But right now, you didn’t even completely register that it was him that touched you.

Your eyes stay fixed on the concrete and the only response you can manage is a strangled hum and a shake of your head, no I can’t talk right now not right now not now

“Okay. Okay,” he lifts you up off the ground from your knees and holds you close, like he’s trying to prevent you from disappearing again. You’re staring blankly at his glove holding up your thigh, trying to center your focus on that instead of all the bodies in your peripheral or the memory of the blade pressed against your abdomen.

You don’t notice it, but he’s looking down at you constantly, scanning your face for anything, any signs of change.

The entire ride back to your apartment you’ve got a death grip around his torso and he’s thankful for it because he can’t have his hands on you while he’s driving the bike.

He gently helps you inside, handling you like your bones are made of float glass. His helmet finally comes off once you’re back home, but you’re a bit too out of it to even notice.

The wave of lucid emotions don’t kick in until he sets you gently on the bed and you realize you’re back in the place where you woke up to his hand around your throat. You can feel the bottom of your shirt sticking to your skin, the blood slowly starting to dry.

The tears fall before you could even realize that your eyes started watering and Jason could swear on his life that he physically felt his heart break.

You feel like a little kid the way you cry, chin low and shoulders shaking. You don’t even know what you want, what could possibly help right now.

“Can I touch you?” He asks in a strangled whisper, desperate to try anything he can to make this better for you. He absolutely hates that you have to be in such distress because of something that he brought into your life, something that he should’ve been able to prevent. He’d rather relive all his worst days again and again than see you so pained ever again.

You give no response so he takes the chance and does it anyway because he can’t stand to see you hurting so badly and while he just sits here watching. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you onto his lap and into his chest. Thankfully, you respond in kind and squeeze your arms around him tightly, sobbing harder.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He presses his mouth against your head, trying to keep it together as you shake in his hold.

He won’t tell you this, especially not right now, but he was absolutely terrified. He couldn’t have gotten home more than ten minutes after you’d left, being met with little things ever so slightly out of place. The bedroom door ajar, when you usually keep it closed. The lamp in the living room that you always leave on for him was off. The bolt on the door was broken, the turn locks unlocked.

He’s panicked plenty of times before in false alarms, thinking you were gone or dead when in reality you’d just been tired and skipped a few steps in your nightly routine. So he kept his thoughts at bay as he crept into the bedroom, opening the door to find the bed empty, sheets oddly messy. He booked it down the hall and checked the bathroom, checked the spare room. Nothing. He’d whipped his phone out immediately and could literally feel his stomach drop when he heard your phone ringing in the bedroom.

It didn’t take him long to piece together what had happened, who had taken you. He’d been having increasing altercations with the Arkham Knight lately and they were beginning to get very annoyed with each other. Occasional accidental run-ins had given way to full on ambushes and planned assaults, leading both of the men to lose their patience quickly.

A couple nights earlier, mid-shootout, The Knight had shouted out something that should’ve raised flags for Jason. “I’d hate to let this get personal,” he’d said.

But he was in the heat of the fight and barely even allowed himself to register the words, let alone sift through their implication. That’s no excuse though, is it? He’s supposed to keep you safe, that’s his job—that’s his only job. He should’ve seen the tail that was following him, he should’ve installed better security measures at your apartment, he should’ve checked on you, should’ve stayed with you, should’ve left you alone all together. But he was selfish and careless and now you’re bleeding and traumatized from being pulled from your bed in the middle of the night, having a gun pushed in your face, and being cut by a psychopath.

You sit on his lap, completely zeroed in on the feeling of his touch and how drastically different it resonates than the Knight’s burning hold on you. Jason’s hands on you don’t have that scorching fire sensation, but warm and comforting like an emergency blanket. You can feel his Red Hood armor pressing into you uncomfortably, but you want more of it. You need more. You can’t possibly get enough of it right now.

“Please hold me tighter,” you pipe up for the first time in several minutes, your words are hushed and exerted. It makes you sound like you’re hiding, trying not to be caught.

He nearly squeezes the breath out of your lungs and it’s still not tight enough. The tears run out soon after and you sit lax against him. You focus on the feeling of his breath against you, his exhale wavering your hair a little. His breath is steadier than yours and you try to match up with him, but you’ve found that even in normal times, his breathing is always a little slower than yours.

There’s a nearly imperceptible creak of a floorboard in your living room that has you jolting in Jason’s lap. His head snaps up, one of his hands immediately flying to your hair. His hold prevents you from turning your head, though you're not sure you even want to. You prepare yourself for the sound of gunshots, modulated voices, punches landing.

You’re confused when Jason remains stationary on the bed and he relaxes slightly. A few long seconds go by before he calls out lowly, “Go.”

His posture loosens again a moment later and though you don’t hear the intruder retreat, you’ll later realize that was your biggest clue as to who it was. But for right now, you bury your face as deep into his neck as you can, letting him run his finger through your hair in an attempt to cancel out the brief adrenaline jump you just got.

His next words come at a volume so low you nearly miss them all together. “Did he touch you?” He sounds like he’s biting back nausea at the thought.

“No. Not like that.” you mumble back, just as quiet. Your voice is more detached than his, and while the words themselves are a relief, your tone makes him hurt inside.

His head drops against your shoulder for a second before he glances up at the door again, letting out a tense exhale. “I…fuck. Can I…I need to go in the living room for a second. Just a second.”

The thought of being separated from him right now makes you literally want to throw up, but tonight has been nothing if not another reassurance that you trust him more than anything.

He pulls back from you and looks you in the eye, hand stroking along the side of your head as he checks for certainty. You do your best to let him find it and when he does he kisses your forehead softly. You slowly climb off of him and he makes sure to wrap you up nicely in the comforter before he goes.

He stands intentionally in the doorway, closing the door enough so that there’s only just enough room for him to stand.

“What happened?” you hear the gruff voice of the Batman, followed by Jason shushing him. You can’t quite make out what he mutters back, though you can tell the sentence is short.

You think you can hear Batman ask if you’re hurt and you see Jason hesitate and then shake his head. You let yourself fall into a reclined position on the bed, consumed by your cocoon of blankets. Jason was really onto something with this.

Batman sighs, “Alright. We’ll discuss this more tomorrow.”

“Not tomorrow.” Jason says shortly. His meaning is clear, he’s not leaving you again any time soon. Especially not to fill Batman in on something that’s done and over with. Something that he’s hoping to never have to talk about again. A few beats pass before Jason closes the door with a soft click and returns to you quickly.

He takes your hands in his as he sits, rubbing reassuring circles with his thumbs.

“I need to get you bandaged up.” He whispers reluctantly, knowing that’s not what you want to hear right now. You drop your head on his shoulder wordlessly and he takes in the sight of your blood on your hands. Now it’s his turn to feel sick. “We can—” he pauses, “Do you want to shower first?”

Oh. That would be good, yeah. You nod slowly and languidly unwrap yourself from your blankets.

He wants to ask but he refrains, so you just take his hand and guide him into the bathroom with you. He’s very thankful you do.

He gets the shower started for you, letting it get warm how he knows you like. You watch the steam begin to fog up the mirror as he pulls his shirt off next to you.

He gets down to his boxers when he turns to you and sees that you’ve made no progress in removing any of your clothes. You just stand still, watching the water run.

“Sweetheart?” He calls out gently. “You need help?” He tries to hide the concern in his voice, though not to much avail.

You blink vacantly, “No, I just…” you waver for a moment before climbing into the shower, clothes on.

He stutters between stopping you and letting you go, ultimately deciding on the latter. He follows in after you, sitting side by side with you under the stream of hot water. He has to fold in on himself to fit like this but he doesn’t think twice about being here with you, however you need him.

Your clothes darken quickly and adheres to your skin, and you find it difficult to tear your eyes away from that patch of your shirt that remains ever so slightly darker than the rest of the wetted fabric.

Jason picks your hand up from its resting place on your stomach and envelopes it in his. You close your eyes and let the water run over your face, sprinkling off your eyelashes.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers, sounding nearly in pain.

Your head falls to the side, coming to a rest on his shoulder. The water pounds against your ear, stray drops ricocheting against your cheek. You squeeze his hand and he returns the action, understanding the temporary sentiment. He kisses your head and keeps his lips there, eyes closed too.

You’ll stay like that in the shower until the heat runs out. He’ll help you out of your soaked clothes and leave them in the tub for now before lifting you up out of the shower and wrapping you in a towel. He’ll set you down on the bed and apply a bandage to your cut as delicately as he possibly can. Neither of you bother to get dressed again, simply enveloping yourselves in the covers and lying together like that until you’re ready to move.

He didn’t go out on patrol again for nearly two months.

💙 REBLOGGING = SUPPORTING 💙

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miinatozakiii · 8 months

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can we get even closer?

detective!jihyo x spiderwoman!reader (pt. 3, finale!) ; smut, fluff

synopsis: spiderwoman becomes 10x more alluring AND convincing, detective park is completely disregarding the chief at this point.

wc: 11.7k

warnings: blood ; mentions of wounds, cuts, bruises ; smut!!!

pls read for context: pt.1, pt.2

the crime scene was a messy tapestry of deception and disorder.

jihyo scanned the mess of a venue. there were flipped-over tables, pieces of chairs, and debris scattered all over the venue—even a light had fallen from the ceiling—it was a sight.

the cluttered, frenzied scene wasn't even the worst part; to tell the truth, what made it worse was seeing her colleagues all stuck together tangled up in spiderwebs against the wall.

the chief included in the mess.

the chief was tangled up alone, arms and legs restrained with only his head free. he seemed infuriated; this does not help your case. the chief will hate your guts even more, and if he catches you, he might rip them out.

jihyo has her final conclusion made up in her head after fully processing the mess in front of her: you have one functioning brain cell.

the officers and chief aren't the only ones captured, there's an apparent culprit tied together in a large, thicker layer of cobweb: the lizard.

it's green, it's ugly, and it's huge—jihyo furrows her brows at the sight—but her face lights up when she sees the familiar silhouette of the special spider-like "hero."

you stand there in front of the grotesque reptile, gazing at it with slumped shoulders and heavy breaths. you're exhausted and aching from the very physically demanding task. on the bright side: there are no broken bones or any limbs missing—that's a plus—though there are a few scratches that rip the new suit you had just gotten. you sigh at the thought of having to face your suit designer nayeon. you really don't want to hear her complaints again.

the thought of nayeon yelling in your ear distracts you from the blood that seeps out the cuts on your body and the pain from the sore areas that will surely be dark, annoying bruises—though the thought of that nayeon pulling at your ear and bickering with you doesn't distract you forever, the discomfort in your abdomen returns and you almost fall over.

screw that ugly ass lizard.

jihyo runs over to your side, looking at your weary state.

"y/n-" jihyo catches herself, immediately quieting down when uttering the last part of your name. she watches her words even if she's not in the field of vision of the officers, they still have ears afterall. "spiderwoman, are you okay?" jihyo asks, looking at the cuts in your suit.

"yeah." you respond, and you're lying your ass off because you think you might fall over soon. "just a bit beat up, could've been worse."

“you think a stab to the stomach is comparable to a paper cut. " the detective sighs, “that doesn’t make this any better.”

it’s evident in her tone that she’s worried. your heart feels heavy knowing that she feels like that for you, but you don't want to overwhelm her anymore. you put your hand on her shoulder and her eyes soften. her look almost hurts more than that stupid pain in your stomach.

"park," you say softly, "i'm fine."

“you’re not.”

"i need to change back and leave, keep an eye on the lizard?"

"y/n-"

"it's spiderwoman." you say sternly. your voice had lost any hint of playfulness, now it’s more of a croaked-out, low tone.

"sorry, i just-"

"let's talk later, yeah?" you urge. jihyo nods with disappointment.

you smile as you shoot a web up, looking at her with the same softness before pulling yourself and swinging away.

jihyo's jaw tightens up.

you don’t break into jihyo’s house or even show up at the department for four days and counting. that’s 96+ hours of jihyo not seeing you, of her having all these questions swarming in her brain with no answers and 96+ hours of missing you. detective park is running out of patience.

jihyo spins the pen in her hand while examining the papers related to the “lizard” case, i mean, there’s not much to do since the lizard-man had been captured after turning back to normal, but jihyo had to do a brief check before going back to the prison to interrogate the human form of that nightmare.

the identity of the lizard was found after it had transformed back into a slender, fragile man: dr. watanabe, lead scientist at minatozaki industries and former friend of the chief.

the chief seemed to be slowly losing it after the whole event—who wouldn’t be after having to ask your detective to cut you and the rest of your coworkers out of the spiderweb that was shot from the wrists of the person you went on a whole tangent about not trusting—exactly.

it’s been hectic.

the detective shoves the papers back into the folder before heading into the room that holds the visitation booths, which is empty and only has one guard present. she runs a hand through her hair before nodding at the guard and sitting at booth three.

her foot taps at the ground as she waits—not because she’s anxious—it’s just a habit she’s had since college.

there’s the sound of the door opening and not even five seconds later the scientist sits in front of her. he looked terrible: bags under his eyes, brows creased, and hair disordered—that’s not like him at all. jihyo takes out a paper from the folder and holds the black telephone handle close to her ear.

“you’ve finally agreed to talk.”

“against my will, where’s the chief.” watanabe spits back through the line. jihyo shoots a look that has the scientist shrinking in his seat.

“not here.” she says sternly, “now i would really appreciate if you could be competent since you’ve caused so much trouble.”

“bring me that damn chief and i’ll talk, they said he’d be here.”

“he’s not here, so quit whining. i have some questions that you need to answer, i’d advise that you respond well and with a compliant attitude.” the detective warns threateningly.

the scientist makes eye contact once with jihyo then looks back down, ready to answer with his hand clutching the telephone handle tightly.

jihyo ends up leaving the visitation booth with sluggish shoulders and a paper with rushed, messy jotted-down notes of the criminals’ answers and puts it in her bag. once she steps outside into the afternoon light, she’s quick to stretch out her arms, groaning at the relieving sensation.

“hi.”

that voice is very familiar.

the detective turns and her eyes widen at the sight of you. you’re standing there with a smile, warm and friendly.

a dark, navy sweater sits loosely on your figure, and your hair is tied up. you look beautiful, and not as beat up as jihyo figures you should look (i mean, you literally had a whole wwe match with a lizard a couple days ago, so it’s surprising to say the least). you seem content, you seem perfectly fine and jihyo hates that you haven’t bothered her. where have you been?

jihyo stares at you in awe, well, maybe with some confusion and a hint of anger too. she wants to ask where you’ve been, i mean, it’s been days and you haven’t knocked on her window, she had even waited by that stupid window of hers with the hope that you’d barge in. she wants to ask how you’ve been doing, if your injuries been bothering you maybe and if your cuts healed. jihyo wants to know everything, from how you’re doing physically to what’s going on in that smoothed-out brain of yours. (jihyo has many questions, too many, and it has her silent in her place while she gapes at you.)

you play with the neckline of your sweater. “it’s getting pretty cold, huh.”

jihyo thinks you’re unbelievable.

“where have you been?” jihyo asks, walking up to you and pushing you playfully (fighting the urge to hold your and look at you with desire like in those cliché romance movies where the leads love interest shows up after being missing—or something like that at least. [park jihyo watches too many dramas]) she furrows her brows a little, looking at you with a tad of shock in her expression.

you tilt your head and ask, “why are you looking at me like that.”

“you’ve been gone for what, four days?” jihyo says, raising her brows. a couple people passing by glance in your direction when jihyo raises her voice, but she doesn’t care, that’s the last thing she cares about. “you haven’t called, texted, or even showed up to your own uncles workplace! you haven’t even-“ and jihyo cannot believe she’s about to say this: “you haven’t broken into my apartment or anything!”

a short silence fills the air before your eyes soften the same way they did before leaving jihyo at that venue—right after finishing up your business.

you let out a brief, soft sigh. “i’m sorry, it’s a lot.”

“yeah, it is.” jihyo huffs, losing the worry in her tone as relief fills in.

a grin plays at your lips, “i did say i would explain everything,” you start, “and i did say i’d take you out, and on me too…”

jihyo crosses her arms and mumbles, “you did.”

“that’s only if the detective would let me…?”

the weight on jihyo’s shoulders is completely knocked off and she chuckles at your response, quickly losing the serious façade.

“i have to drop this off at work, maybe i’ll let you once i do.”

you grin. “great.”

you end up as passenger princess in jihyo’s white, glossy bmw.

saying the car is nice would be a huge understatement. the interior is even more fascinating compared to the exterior, and that says a lot. the seats are clean, comfy, and from the texture, you can tell it’s authentic and expensive leather. the car is pretty spotless other than the water bottle in the cup holder and that reusable tote bag that seemed to have been thrown at the backseats blindly. the car smells fresh—something woody, minty, and there’s also a hint of apple—it’s welcoming and really fits the detective.

“comfy?” jihyo asks, turning on the engine.

“yeah.” you reply, feeling a little intimidated for no reason.

jihyo chuckles at you and shifts the stick, lightly steps on the gas, then looks at the screen in the car as she backs up. there should be no reason for this to be so attractive, i mean, you’ve seen many people back up a car, nothing special, but when jihyo does it you find yourself wanting her a little more.

the two of you end up at the department less than ten minutes later. despite how unbelievably close and flirty you’ve gotten with the detective; the whole car ride was way too intimate for your liking, and your nerves were a mess.

the car was so nice it had you feeling tense, jihyo was driving with such ease and looked so damn good with those sunglasses she had on. you felt small in the passenger seat. thankfully, you’re a few turns away from the department.

“i need to tell you something.” you say, making jihyo hum.

“what is it?”

“i can’t go into the department, i’m, well… i’ll tell you later but long story short my uncle cannot see me and i’m technically kind of on house arrest.”

“you’re what?”

“long story.”

the light turns red, the detective breaks smoothly then turns to look at you, curiosity and disbelief making her brows furrow.

“why am i not surprised that the chief would do something like that.” jihyo sighs, looking back at the stoplight—it’s green now. “he’s been on edge lately ever since the incident, he’s probably just anxious.”

you chuckle and shake your head, “he’s something…”

not too long later, the two of you find your way over at a café nearby and situate yourselves in the balcony area on the second floor.

jihyo holds a mint-colored latte cup in her hand that’s filled with a simple, hot mocha. she takes a sip and a bit of the steamed milk coats the top of her lips, she licks it off subtly. you smile before taking a sip of your own drink, some type of seasonal latte that has hints of apple and cinnamon.

“i missed you.” you say, looking down at the slightly distorted latte art in your cup. jihyo looks at you then smiles, a tint of pink dusting her cheeks as she turns her head to take in the view of the farmers markets nearby.

“me too.” she sighs, “i was… i haven’t been as tired lately, so i waited near my window for some spider to knock on it—she never came.”

you frown. “i wanted to. i’m always one to help people and try to not break the law, but i can’t help it when it’s you.” you respond jokingly.

jihyo smiles at your playfulness, happy to be spending time with one of the people she’s grown close with, as well as the hero she’s been secretly crushing and interacting with.

“can i ask how long you’ve been, you know…”

“couple months.” you reply, “remember how i told you about getting bit by the spider?” you ask, jihyo nods and you begin again, “i got bit a week after i moved here, and then i started sticking to things, accidentally broke my doorknob—oh! i was also watching this scary movie one time and got scared, after that i couldn’t see myself in the mirror.”

“that’s a lot.”

“yes, too much.”

“so… what happened with you and your uncle?” jihyo questions, wondering why she’s been spiderwoman-deficient for the past four days.

“oh yeah,” you respond, “well, he found out that i got hurt—not because i was y’know, doing my little hero thing—but he saw the blood and some of the injuries. he went on this tangent about me staying safe, he’s just been on edge and very protective. he doesn’t want me leaving the house. i’ve been working from home.”

“you couldn’t sneak out?”

“he had detectors, it took me a bit to mess with it. i took some engineering classes in high school and had some mischievous friends, so i ended up cheating the system.” you explain. jihyo nods, raising her brows at how capable you are; you’re quite impressive even if someone were to snatch your spider abilities away. “so, what’s been going on with you detective? fill me in.”

jihyo sighs, shaking her head softly.

“your uncle has been on edge, it’s strange.” she says, “usually these types of cases don’t phase him, but he’s shaken up.”

“maybe it was me trapping him in cobwebs—too much?”

the detective shakes her head again. “no, i don’t think so, but that was stupid on your end. he’s just been terribly paranoid; i’ve never seen him so tense.”

you furrow your brows and take another sip of your beverage before raising your brows as if you had an idea, “maybe it has something to do with the scientist?” you suggest, and you ponder before speaking again, “i remember my uncle having lunch with the scientist a couple months ago, he came back from the lunch all tense and a bit angry—even snapped at me for something. it was strange.”

jihyo’s expression lights up, “you’re on to something… that scientist did ask me to see the chief multiple times… and watanabe is clearly hiding something.”

“you think we should reunite them? maybe find out more of what’s between them?”

“it might be a good idea.” the detective mumbles, swirling remnants of her drink in the cup. you bite the inside of your lip and hum again,

“let’s try it, i can talk to the chief.”

“you’re on house arrest.”

“spiderwoman can do it then. she’s not on house arrest.”

jihyo’s eyes widen at the suggestion, and she looks at you like you’re crazy. “you’re insane.”

“maybe chief l/n will listen to me if i’m sweet with him.”

“he could body slam you to the ground.”

“maybe he could do that to y/n, but not spiderwoman.” you beam.

“no, maybe spiderwoman too.” jihyo shakes her head and simply sighs, “you’re actually the dumbest person i know.”

“you into that?”

the mask on your face is new, so is the suit (you were able to contact your suit designer via email and after seeing jihyo you got your much more durable suit—that is, after getting scolded by the fashion designer.)

you spot chief l/n in the office alone, it’s quite late anyway, a little past when you’d usually have dinner. your uncle examines a paper with furrowed brows and a pen in his large, aging hands. he looks pretty focused—you take it as your cue to invite yourself into his large office.

when the chief hears a small thud, he’s immediately on guard. he puts his hand over the gun strapped under his desk and scans the room: there’s no one, nothing, but he’s not convinced.

“i’m not fucking stupid.” he says coldly, “show yourself or you’re going to regret a lot.”

his voice is low, deep, and threatening. it’s worse than when he scolds you, much worse and you think you might be lucky that his most angry tone with you is less frightening than how he’s talking to you now.

you’re invisible, he can’t see you at all. the chief pulls out his gun from under the table and holds it with precision, aiming and scanning the room once more for any sign of someone. the gun in his hand is knocked out with a spiderweb and the chief halts, stiffening in his place.

you unveil yourself and the chief spots the familiar vigilante stuck to the ceiling, though that same vigilante who had terrorized him a couple days prior is wearing a new suit.

“hello chief.” you greet, making sure you alter your voice.

the tall, bulky man grimaces when you release yourself off of the wall and land on the floor of the room.

“spiderwoman.”

“nice to see you too.” you say, “i’m not going to hurt you or anything, i’m just uneasy around guns.”

“yeah, sure.” he scoffs, “you’re up to something.”

“god- no!” you groan, losing patience. the chief drops his stern demeanor for a second when you pinch the bridge of your nose, it almost convinces him that you’re just a simple human under that suit. “i’m trying to get more details on the lizard, and i need your help.”

“that lizard… he’s behind bars.”

“but that’s not it and you know it.”

“get out my damn office. i’m not afraid to fight you, i don’t care how many webs you trap me in.”

you sigh again, growing even more impatient. the chief glares at you when you do so.

“look—the people, the citizens, families and friends—they’re all in danger if you’re not competent,” you explain. your uncle drops his serious expression and his shoulders relax just barely.

“and i should just tell you why, huh? so you can do who knows what with this information? i’m not stupid.”

“you’re getting on my fucking nerves though and you’re being a prick that’s what you are.” you respond with irritation, and the tone of your retort reminds the chief of a certain someone he knows very well. “you think i saved that whole venue for shits and giggles? i left there with a broken rib and more bruises and cuts than i can count on one hand. i don’t know how many people i have to save or buildings i have to stop from collapsing to get you to understand that i’m not the fucking villain. look, watanabe is eery, there’s something i’m missing on this whole case because that damn scientist has been reluctant to give answers due to some tall ass man-baby of a chief that not only refuses to see the what, barely average height scientist, but the same chief who won’t fucking comply to this ‘vigilante’ because of his foggy little brain.”

the chief looks at you with surprise now, mouth slightly agape.

“i’m—i’m sorry?” he says with uncertainty. your uncle decides to swallow up his pride and prejudice, you sound like his niece and he starts to soften up. “fine. only if it helps.”

so rambling was the only thing that you needed to get him to comply? you’ve been wasting your time, too much time.

“why does watanabe want to see you.” you ask, observing the way your uncles eyes hesitantly avoid your gaze.

it’s quite strange seeing your uncle so sheepish looking, so submissive and not in the way he looks when your aunt scolds him for not eating, but he looks almost vulnerable.

“we-” he pauses and his shoulders drop just barely, “we used to work together. now that he’s behind bars i can’t compromise my position.”

“how does it compromise your position?”

“i’m a big guy, a big, bulky guy. watanabe and i used to be friends and… he asked for my dna samples and whatnot. look, i might’ve…” the chief sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “i gave him some and i don’t know what he did with it, but now that he’s behind bars i think it’s something bad. i don’t know, i’ve never been a science freak.”

“okay so he has your dna, what are you looking so scared for?” you ask,

“i’m just wary… i don’t know what he can do with it—what he has done with it.”

you ponder for a bit and look at the anxious chief in front of you, who looks less intimidating than ever in front of you. why would watanabe need his dna?

“well, he’s behind bars, so no need to worry about anything for now yeah? i’ll investigate this myself.” you assure. you expect an inquiry, a response or something—but the chief simply nods and huffs.

“yeah alright.” he sighs. you shoot a thumbs up and hide yourself in transparency, that’s when you hear small—but noticeable in the silent ambience—words of gratitude. “thanks for taking a weight off my shoulders.”

you really have to stop breaking into jihyo’s home—well, it’s more of you jump scaring her and then her letting you in—so is it really a crime if there’s implied consent to enter?

jihyo opens the window for you and sighs, “i have a door you know.”

“too much work.”

“and swinging to the tenth floor of my apartment building is less work?”

“more exciting!” you beam, “and i like your little reaction, it’s cute.”

jihyo rolls her eye at your little remark and you climb in. she watches you pull off your mask and tuck some of your messy hair away, her eyes linger a little before she turns and walks back to her stove.

“whatcha cookin’?” you ask, sitting on the counter of the little kitchen island.

“avocado toast with eggs.” jihyo responds, not turning around.

“how healthy.”

“did you need something?” she asks, sliding the spatula under the eggs before flipping it over and cutting the heat.

“do you wanna break the law?” you ask. jihyo turns around and the expression plastered on her face screams:“are you dumb or stupid?”

“you’re seriously asking me this?”

“okay technically it’s not fully breaking the law,” you start, “just… doing something that might be an invasion of privacy.”

“that might be breaking the law, stupid.” jihyo snickers, smiling at the idiot in front of her.

you’re wearing something comfy yet professional looking: a pullover with a dress shirt under and some simple dress pants. the detective wonders if people saw you swinging around like that—the only thing masking your identity being the mask you had taken off, and without the mask jihyo can see you with the nerdy-looking glasses you put on earlier, and the smile plastered on your face. you’ve got a cute grin.

“you never said no.” you shrug.

“i’ll lose my job.”

“no you wont. just let me explain?” you plead. jihyo sighs, crossing her arms while leaning against the counter next to the stove; all of the detectives’ attention is on you now.

“thanks lovely.” you say, and the little remark makes jihyo’s cheeks flush just barely. “okay so i had a little talk with the chief last night, turns out watanabe has his dna and my uncle’s on edge because of that.”

“okay…”

“i work for the same company, meaning i have a keycard. that also means we can investigate a little more and find out what the hell he wanted to do with the chiefs dna.” you explain, “it’s technically your job to do all this investigating and if you think about it: i’m just a loyal citizen helping out the hottest detective in the force.”

jihyo uncrosses her arms and puts her hands on the counter gripping the edge. you watch the way her arm tenses and wow she’s toned. the detective looks down and shakes her head, smiling.

the shorter woman turns back around and pulls out a piece of bread from the toaster, then uses the spatula that rested on the plate to put an egg on the toast. she hands you the plate and you turn your head, but take it nonetheless.

“eat up, gotta have energy to ‘kinda’ break the law.”

your eyes light up and you almost gasp, “you’re going to do it?”

“you get me to do the craziest things.”

you smirk and respond, “and if i were a crazy thing?”

jihyo looks you in the eye and smiles. “i could put you on my to-do list then.”

you had offered to swing out her window with her, but jihyo denied, and you teased her the whole way down to the parking lot.

now you’re playing passenger princess (pt. 2) and watch jihyo shift out her parking space, which is a sight. there’s something enticing with her movements, the way she carries herself, and her confidence.

when you reach the building—the large, modern-looking building with a café that keeps your coffee addiction thriving—jihyo gazes for a bit, clearly impressed.

“never been here?”

“no, i have, just never had time to fully take in everything.” she says, “it’s very nice.”

you smile and open the door for her, she rolls her eyes and walks in—you follow behind.

there are a few familiar faces in the building, some people rushing around and others conversing—it could be mistaken as a lobby at some college, jihyo looks around and is taken aback by the lively atmosphere.

“there you are, where have you been?” a recognizable voice scoffs. you turn to your left and see nayeon, smiling cheekily as she walks towards you and jihyo. you roll your eyes playfully and scoff playfully,

“been avoiding you.” you respond jokingly, and nayeon just laughs.

“who’s this? your girlfriend? been skipping work to be with her or what?” nayeon asks. her inquiry takes both you and jihyo by surprise, making both of you blush.

words stick to the tip of your tongue for a moment and jihyo puts out her hand for nayeon while you compose yourself. “detective park.” she introduces.

nayeon raises her brows and shakes her hand, then looks at you with a quirked brow and the look in her eyes seem to convey an “ooh~” before she responds to jihyo. “im nayeon.”

you clear your throat after they shake hands, “it’s nice to see you again i guess.” you say to nayeon, “but i have to go up and grab something, i’ll see you.”

“yeah yeah, see you. i was on my way out anyway—don’t blow up anything.” she sighs, and you scoff playfully. the two of you smile at each other mischievously before nayeon heads out the doors.

jihyo laughs and you raise a brow, watching her as she shakes her head.

“got all flustered from her asking if i was your girlfriend? what happened to the confidence from before?”

“shut up.” you respond, “let’s just go.”

jihyo laughs as you walk towards the elevators—she can’t see you, but she knows you’re blushing like an idiot.

the two of you reach the 7th floor and jihyo follows you out the elevator.

as you and jihyo make your way down the dimly lit corridor, a sense of anticipation fills the air. the tension is palpable as you approach the lab room. fumbling in your pocket, you retrieve a keycard, silently emphasizing the need for caution as you unlock the door. "stay by my side and stay quiet. we're not supposed to be here," you mumble, voice low and careful.

entering the room, you both are immediately struck by its sheer size. you’ve been here once with another scientist from the company, though only for a brief moment to retrieve information for your article. it's not just a regular room; it's an enormous space dedicated to housing the scientists' most precious possessions—their files, research, and invaluable data.

as your gaze scans the shelves, your heart skips a beat before settling on the section that holds the coveted information you seek. the lights are dim, making it difficult to distinguish one folder from another, but thankfully you’re spiderwoman; your senses are already much more advanced than any person.

with each folder you come across, you murmur the words written on their labels. jihyo watches you intently, captivated by your unwavering focus. there's a certain charm in the way you immerse yourself in the task at hand, it's adorable and there's an undeniable allure to your commitment that draws her in.

“they’re all in alphabetical order… t… u… v… hmmm—ah! w!” you beam. you snatch the folder that reads “watanabe.” a contagious smile dances across your lips, your elation mirrored by jihyo.

“is that what we need?” jihyo asks, turning her head.

“yeah, this is one of the more important files, it has a lot of his research and experiments. i’m also going to look for-“

before you can finish your sentence, an unwelcome intrusion slices through the air, mingling with the palpable fear creeping into your senses when you hear the low tap of footsteps outside the room.

the threat of being caught floods your mind, driving you into spontaneous action. quickly, you take jihyo’s wrist, urgency pulsating through your grip, and scan the room frantically. from the corner of your eye, a small closet appears. you bolt toward it and drag jihyo with you, then close yourselves inside.

you’re in your head trying to listen to the sound coming from the corridor that you don’t realize the compromising position you’re in.

silent seconds stretch while you two stay cautious and awareness dawns upon you, and your breath halts. one hand is unintendedly situated on the curve of jihyo’s slender waist and the other still grips her wrist. her back is pressed against the closet door, and your senses collide with her proximity, faces and bodies inches apart.

(with how quiet it is in the room, you wonder if whoever was lurking would catch you just from the pounding of your heart.)

you loosen your grip on her wrist and whisper, “sorry.”

“you’ve got a good grip.” jihyo mumbles, “and it’s okay.”

the air hangs heavy, thick with tension. you glance downwards and you’re captivated by the intensity in jihyo's eyes—intimidating and enticing even in the darkened room—and an irrepressible impulse surges within you.

jihyo lets out a shallow breath and peeks at your lips, you take a quick glance at hers before you two gape into each other’s eyes again.

now it’s jihyo’s turn to hold your wrist, and without conscious thought, your heart pounding an adrenaline-fueled rhythm, you lean forward, closing the remaining distance until your lips press against hers.

it’s soft and tender at first, then warm and thrilling. you pull away for a brief moment to utter and apology, which is muffled after jihyo crashes her lips back to you with a doubled intensity. you hum in response and she pulls you closer, making you lean down to match her height.

in the muffled silence of the closet, time becomes a mere afterthought, eclipsed by the pulsating intensity that engulfs you both. the world outside fades into oblivion as your lips meet again and again after parting to tilt your heads in the other direction after a few kisses, and after a couple more you’re changing kissing angles again.

jihyo’s hands trace over your chest, then to your shoulders and at last: your neck. she grips at your hair, tugs and pulls while simultaneously leading the kiss—she’s naturally one to take control. she swipes her tongue against your lip and you let her tongue explore your mouth, earning various hums and small groans.

you pull away to catch your breath and jihyo stops you before you can kiss her again, placing her hand on your chest and adding pressure to it to restrain your eagerness.

“sorry,” you say, cheeks flushed and breath heavy. “too much?”

jihyo laughs softly and shakes her head before responding, “not at all, y/n. it’s just, we should be careful… don’t want you to be too loud—yet. let’s continue later.” your cheeks flush from her remark and jihyo laughs lowly after hearing your breath quiver. “do you think whoever was walking is gone?”

“i- um, i’ll have to listen closer.” you mutter.

jihyo’s hand still rests on your chest, right above your heart—which is beating at an unhealthy pace—and jihyo doesn’t comment on the noticeable pounding against her palm. you pause for a moment and really concentrate your sense of hearing, listening on anything going on outside. jihyo lets you work your magic and smiles when you hum.

“no one outside, it’s clear. i’ll turn invisible and you know, check it out. i’ll let you know if you can come out; when i knock three times then that’s your cue to leave the closet, yeah?” you explain.

jihyo nods and says, “sounds good spiderwoman.” which earns a small chuckle from you. some light seeps in when you open the door, letting jihyo have a glimpse of your face: cheeks tinted pink, your ears are a darker shade, and the smirk on your face is smug.

you plant a kiss on her incredibly soft lips before disappearing from her sight, and jihyo hears a small “cute,” before the door closes. she’s left in the dark closet alone with a warm feeling in her chest—though it’s soon replaced with the realization:

oh my god… i just made out with my boss’s niece.

when you and jihyo reach the floor of the lobby, you two act like you haven’t just violated the privacy of a (now criminal) scientist.

there are two folders, a binder, and some samples from who knows what that were hastily placed inside your bag when you first got into the elevator. the two of you head towards jihyo's car, acting as if nothing has happened, despite having committed something slightly very illegal.

the detective closes her doors and you mirror her action once you sit down, and as you both put on your seatbelts jihyo scoffs, “i can’t believe you got me to do this.”

“it’s for my uncle, and you know, just in case.” you assure, looking at her as she grips the steering wheel a little tight. “in the end i think he’ll be grateful, and it’ll help with the case.”

“i know.” jihyo says, “he can be scary.”

“i’ll take care of him, okay?”

“okay.” she responds before shooting you a small smile, which makes you smile back in return.

when you reach jihyo’s apartment, you take off your jacket and hang it on the hooks on the wall. jihyo does the same with her own jacket and you meet at her kitchen island.

you take out the stolen goods from your back and drop them on the marble counter, jihyo turns on the lamp above to make it easier to read and see. jihyo stands across from you as you take out each file and skim through them, watching your eyebrows crinkle from concentration.

four pieces of paper are taken out of one of the binders—three of them being stapled together—and you quickly read through them. then, you place them on the counter, and your eyes scan the title of a sample before laying it next to the papers.

“this is it.” you sigh, looking down at the messy tapestry of notes and diagrams.

jihyo tilts her head and questions, “what?”

“my uncle’s dna. there’s notes on it and everything, it’s all scribbled here—look.” you respond, flipping the paper over and pushing it towards the detective. jihyo’s eyebrows reflect yours and furrow as she reads the text. her shoulders relax and she turns the paper over to read more, eye’s widening a little as she reads.

you pick up the sample and examine it a bit more as jihyo reads through. she looks back at you and says in disbelief, “watanabe tried to make human lizards?”

“pretty much.” you reply, “my uncle’s a big, bulky guy… watanabe probably tried to fuck with the lizard dna and his genes to make something relatively close—but thankfully, it didn’t work. here, this paper shows the trials and whatnot.” you add, handing jihyo the non-stapled paper.

jihyo sets the small packet down and reads through the one handed to her, examining the various angrily crossed-out sentences, numbers, and notes. she hums at the sight.

“so there’s nothing to worry about?” the detective asks. you nod and respond,

“no, thankfully. i’ll probably show up as spiderwoman and leave a little note to the chief, i should probably get to that soon—tonight.” you admit, leaning against the counter. “i’ll leave you alone for now, sorry for making you do all of this.”

you don’t want to leave, that’s the last thing you want to do. the small silence after you utter your last sentence urges you to pack up and leave, even if the thought of continuing whatever happened in your closet flooded your mind.

“wait,” jihyo says as you start to trudge away towards the window, and you pause in your place as soon as you take a step on the carpet on the floor.

you raise a brow in confusion (hoping jihyo read your mind). “yes?”

“just stay, the sun is already setting.” she says boldly.

“my uncle would kill me, i’m on house arrest.” you sigh, “getting these to him as spiderwoman would get me off house arrest.”

jihyo frowns and you mirror her expression. “you really can’t stay?” she asks, brows creasing just barely.

“i would if i could.”

“well,” jihyo starts, walking over to you. “before you jump out the window,” she mumbles, now one step away from you. she places her hand on your chest and looks at you with a warm softness in her eyes. she tilts her head, then leans up to press her lips against yours, less aggressive than in the closet, but just as nerve-racking—making your heart beat quicken just from the simple contact.

you practically melt when she kisses you, and your hands instinctively reach for her cheek, cupping it gently. time seems to hesitate when she puts her arms around your neck, and you make sure to savor the taste and feel of her lips on yours.

jihyo pulls away first, but only a little so your lips still brush against each other.

“jihyo…” you mutter, and you can feel her smiling against you—her grin spreads to your own lips.

“if you’re off house arrest tomorrow… we should—”

“yes, please.” you say, “anything you want.”

“didn’t know a kiss was enough to have you so eager.” jihyo snickers gently.

you smirk and press a quick peck. “oh i can be eager—if that’s what you want?”

jihyo rolls her eyes at your stupid (yet tempting) response and pulls away so she can see your face clearly. she gazes at you for a bit, simple appreciating your presence and the faint dimple that appears on your cheek as you smile at her. jihyo fixes your hair, pushing away strands that fall over your face.

“you’re an idiot.”

“you love that though.”

“a lot.” jihyo responds, then presses a kiss to your cheek and smiles. “now go get yourself off house arrest.”

you grin. “yes detective.”

the chief stands at his desk and puts on his coat, then gathers all the papers he had already gone through in his bag. on his desk, a folder suddenly drops down with a smack and the chief jumps, letting out a small yelp.

“hi chief.” a voice says. the chief looks up and he watches the familiar vigilante become translucent, then fully visible after unveiling herself. spiderwoman releases herself from the ceiling and lands on the ground with ease. “gotcha’ some things you’d probably love to look through.”

“what the hell spidergirl—”

“please, i know i’m supposed to mask my identity, but spiderwoman is better. c’mon man, i’m in my twenties.” you groan. the chief looks at you and shakes his head, then picks up the folder that had scared him half to death earlier.

your uncle furrows his brows slightly as he reads the papers (same as jihyo did, you note. at this point everything is reminding you of her—even the bulky man in front of you).

“where— where did you get this? how—”

“told you i’d check it out. nothing to worry about chief, just wanted to ease your worries.” you shrug, “i told you i’m not the bad guy.”

the chief examines you for a moment, looking you up and down before his shoulders drop. he puts the papers back in the folder and stares at it for a couple seconds, exhaling in relief.

“thank you.” he says, “i was… really on edge.”

“anytime.” you say, smiling from under the mask. the chief walks up to you, looking down and narrowing his eyes before softening his gaze. he puts his hand out and you look at it in surprise—as well as confusion.

“let’s keep contact, spiderwoman.” the chief says, “maybe you’re not so bad.” he adds. you hesitate for a moment and stare at his hand for a moment longer before shaking it. the chief doesn’t break your hand, doesn’t pull you in and throw you to the ground—he shakes it professionally and nods. “you’ve earned my trust.”

you want to lift your mask up and show him your proud smile, and a part of you wants to reveal yourself.

“i’m glad. i’m just your friendly neighborhood spiderwoman after all, harmless!” you beam.

“that’s debatable. i saw what you did to that monster.” he responds. you catch the faint twitch of his lips: an almost smile.

“how else could i save everyone?”

“i guess you’re right, get going kid, sun is setting.”

“i told you i’m in my twenties!”

“you really remind me of someone i know spiderwoman.” he says with a breath of amusement, “have a good night, thank you again.” he finally adds before grabbing his bag. the chief walks past spiderwoman without body-slamming her or anything like that; the tall, hefty man simply walks out and leaves spiderwoman speechless.

that’s all it took to get on his good side?

jihyo walks into the building and the routine is the same as always: she greets the front desk lady—rachel was her name, she’s sweet and always has a smile on for anyone talking to her. after her usual friendly greeting, jihyo walks over to her desk and greets the rest of the team.

as jihyo sets her bag down, a familiar face appears and greets the detective.

“hello park, morning.” francis beams, smiling softly at jihyo. francis was one of the newer cops, he was pretty young for one—but great at his job. jihyo was quite fond of him, he was nice and competent.

“morning, how are you?”

“good, good.” he says before yawning, “glad it’s friday.”

“me too.” jihyo responds with a laugh, taking out a few reports from her bag and turning on the computer in front of her.

the detective turns back to the monitor in front of her and gets to typing, looking down at the paper and back up to the screen as she types various letters, numbers, and who knows what at this point.

her mind is completely foggy, she tries to get some work done, tries to copy down the reports and examine them. the only thing she can really focus on is the memory of your lips on hers, and whether you’re off house arrest because she really needs a continuation of what happened in that damn closet.

jihyo flinches at the sudden sound of the voice she’s been missing most and looks down at her desk to see a 16oz paper coffee cup on her desk.

“morning detective.”

“jesus!” jihyo yelps, “don’t do that!”

“i thought you’d get used to it by now.” you snicker. jihyo smiles as you pull a chair up next to her and sit down, sipping on your own beverage. “i’m off house arrest.”

“i can see that.” jihyo sighs, though the tone of her voice doesn’t match the way her heart warms upon your arrival. “shouldn’t you be at work?”

“technically it’s an internship,” you respond, “but i guess it’s my job now, seeing they pay me more than some of the actual employees.”

“well whatever it is you should probably be at the building, no?”

“i have work in less than forty minutes. do you hate my presence that much?” you question, a pout forming. “didn’t hate it that much yesterday—"

the detective punches your shoulder and you wince playfully before jihyo rolls her eyes and takes a sip of the coffee you brought her. “you’re loud, too loud for someone who’s my boss’s blood relative.” she scolds you lowly and sets down the beverage before redirecting her attention back to the screen. “and no, i don’t hate your presence, just don’t want you slacking or getting scolded.” she admits, a smile threatening to form on her lips.

you laugh and gaze at her for a moment, taking in the slope of her nose and catching a glimpse of the small mole on the tip of it. your eyes trace the sharp curve of her jaw, and then your look sets on her lips—the taste and feel lingers in your mind. jihyo pretends to ignore your blatant stare.

“i’ll stop bothering you for a bit, should probably get going anyway and let my favorite detective get to work.” you mumble. jihyo turns as you begin to stand up and furrows her brows. she looks to around quickly and grabs your wrist, making you turn and hum in confusion.

“wait,” she starts, trying to keep you close to her for just a while more, “i just printed something, you should come with me before you go.” you smile at her suggestion and set your coffee down on her desk, then nod.

the walk to the printing room is quite silent, nothing is said or heard other than the click of jihyo’s boots reverberating. when you get to the small room, a man walks out and smiles at jihyo before holding the door for the two of you. the detective smiles back before going in, with you trailing behind.

jihyo goes to the screen of the printer and taps at a few buttons, then sighs, “out of paper, come with me to get some.”

“yes ma’am.”

the paper and supplies room are two rooms down from the printing area, and so the two of you walk down the hall then into the room.

jihyo opens the door and you enter first—what catches you completely off guard is the way your senses are quickly overwhelmed.

without warning, your back is pushed against the closed door and you’re immobilized by jihyo’s body pressing against you. before you can comprehend what’s happening, her warm, soft lips press against yours with a slight aggression and it makes you groan immediately.

your hands find their way to her waist, the other on her upper rib to push her closer into you—craving the warmth and feeling it gives you.

something about making out in a dimmed, small room feels right to the two of you; you’ve made out twice so far and both times have been in relatively similar spaces. this won’t be the last time you make out in a small space.

jihyo pulls away and your brain is hazy, you immediately move yourself closer to capture her lips again.

“fuck,” you sigh in between kisses, “what’s with the sudden—” you get cut off with another harsh kiss, making you groan louder into her mouth. jihyo’s tongue finds its way into your mouth and your hands find their way to her skin, and it makes her shiver from the contact.

every nerve in jihyo’s body wakes as soon as your lips come into contact with her neck, and she stifles a groan when you start to nip at it.

“no marks, not now.” she says dissapointingly.

“later?”

“maybe.” she says, and immediately, a sharp breath leaves her lips when you add a bit of pressure on her waist, squeezing it gently.

a sudden shift in the atmosphere tingles your senses, making your lips detach and actions halt. you shiver at the feeling, instantly pulling away from jihyo and trying to compose yourself.

“someone’s coming, act busy.” you mutter quickly before turning on the light and pretending to busy yourself by reaching for papers on the shelf.

the door opens and you almost flinch at the familiar voice that greets the two of you.

“y/n? jihyo? what are you two doing here?” the chief asks. both you and jihyo stiffen at the sound of who had almost walked in on you. jihyo clears her throat abruptly.

“ah, l/n. i was printing something out and y/n decided to help me out.”

the chief chuckles, “y/n, when do you have to clock in?”

“thirty minutes, figured i’d waste a bit of time with park.” you shrug, “i always make it on time.”

the chief laughs and jihyo tenses her jaw slightly as she smiles at him, fixing her hair and jacket she has on. “well,” the chief starts, “grab me some sticky notes while you’re over there, i’ll let you two converse.” he adds. you nod and grab a stack of pink sticky notes—his favorite color—and toss them at him.

“there you go old man.” you tease.

“watch it,” he says playfully, “and are you sick? your cheeks are so pink.”

again, you and jihyo tense up—you clear your throat before responding, “there’s dust here, i sneezed and rubbed my face too hard.” you lie, almost stumbling over your words when you glance at jihyo.

the chief nods and sighs, “well, don’t get my detective sick.” and with that he exits the room, shutting the door harshly (he’s oblivious to his strength at times), which lets you and jihyo sigh out in relief.

“we need to get a room.” you groan,

“yeah.” jihyo laughs, “are you free tonight?” she asks, and it makes you look at her in surprise, cheeks warming up once again.

“only if you are—and if no one tries to rob a bank.”

jihyo laughs and responds, “i am, and i might just have a room.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.” jihyo says, smirking. “if it means anything, my window will be unlocked if someone wants to swing by.”

“hmmm, i’ll keep that in mind.”

jihyo’s jaw tenses and she looks at you in a way that fills your nerves with temptation. “good. now let’s print these out, i need to hand them to the forensics.”

jihyo hums along to a tune playing from her phone as she wipes down the counter next to the stove—it’s a slow melody, something fitting for the dimmed room and quiet night.

she hasn’t seen you in a few hours—though it seems like decades—so she’s cleaning up and wandering around to pass the time.

when she finishes cleaning her countertops she walks over to the sink to wash her hands, still humming along to the melody that fills the room with a soft ambiance. jihyo turns off the sink and the unexpected feeling of two large hands on her waist makes her shriek and turn around quickly.

she calms down when she’s met with your grin, but her irritation quickly replaces the relief and she punches your rib lightly; you wince at the feeling dramatically, clutching your side and pouting.

“hey! what was that for?” you groan, and it makes detective park smile.

jihyo crosses her arms and leans against the counter. “you’re going to kill me one day y/n.”

“aw, am i making your heart beat that fast?”

she punches your shoulder again and says, “oh shut up.” you grin at her cheekily.

jihyo takes a moment to examine you and somehow you’re cuter everytime she sees you. you’re wearing some comfy looking navy sweatshirt paired with black sweatpants, how adorable.

the mood in the air shifts when you run your eyes up and down jihyo, and she seems to have gained some of her own powers from the way she reads your mind. you lick your lips swiftly and smirk—it’s not a big one, but the slight curve of one side of your lips is noticeable.

“i told my uncle i’d be staying with a friend for the night,” you explain, and the tempting look in your eyes is replaced by curiosity with a hint of wonder. “i brought some drinks, got a sweet tooth?”

“i can’t pass down drinks from you.”

“you like strawberry soda?” you ask—jihyo hums. “good. i um— thought… maybe we could watch a movie—or just talk? i don’t know honestly, i’ve just been wanting to see you.” you admit, “i realized we haven’t really had time to you know, go on a date and just hang out without any of it being work or crime related… i wanted to be with you.”

jihyo laughs and she feels her heart thud against her chest. “you’re cute.”

“thanks, but you’re cuter,” you reply, which makes jihyo blush and she tries to hide it by walking over to her living room area. you follow behind and she sits down on her couch, patting down a space for you.

“didn’t know spiderwoman was so romantic.”

“hey hey… spiderwoman is a lot of things.” you huff.

you and detective park—no, just jihyo, sweet, genuine, and crazily pretty jihyo—talk for an hour. it starts off with you explaining that you earned the chiefs trust, then it goes on to complaining about said chief, nothing too new though laughs are shared. jihyo complains about her job and the paperwork that’s been piling on her desk and you complain about your side hustle; jihyo is attentive, listening to you ramble about your spiderwoman story of the recent (and very pretentious) group of high school boys who tried to rob a gas station.

talking with jihyo feels easy, it’s not like you have to force yourself or exaggerate anything; conversing with jihyo feels right.

the whole hour of you two simply sharing sodas and drinks leads to scooting closer, shoulders touching and heads leaned back against the top of the touch.

when silence floods for a bit after you share another anecdote, jihyo takes this time to blatantly admire your face—keeping her look on your lips for a couple seconds longer than the other features.

it’s you who closes the distance this time, no words need to be exchanged when you finally do what the both of you have wanted to do: simply lock lips.

“fuck i missed this,”

jihyo smiles when she pulls away. “it’s been a couple hours, y/n.”

“one minute is already too long.” you mumble before kissing her again.

this time your kiss is slow and soft, not the same crashing of hungry lips against each other, it’s soft, sweet, and you two take your time since there’s no risk of being caught. no rush at all.

in contrast to your previous (rushed, aggressive, and heated) kisses, you both take your time to really appreciate each other’s intimacy.

the new comfort and absent feeling of cautiousness lets you savor the feeling of jihyo’s lips on yours: warm, soothing, and everything you didn’t know you needed. you taste the faint hint of strawberry off her while she cups your face, sliding her fingers to the back of your neck and rubbing her thumb against your skin.

a few minutes (you guess it’s been a few minutes, cant be that long, no? it’s been thirty minutes) pass and the two of you have your hands roaming around, the kisses get needier by the second.

hunger hurriedly takes over and you’re practically eating other’s mouths in no time. despite the change in pace and intimacy, you’re perfectly fine with it; if anything, it’s perfect how it escalated from a simple sweet kiss to whatever is making your cunt throb.

you blindly shift yourselves and jihyo backs up to lay down comfortably on the cushions of the couch. one thing you that made your breath uneasy was the way jihyo tangled her fingers in your hair, especially the way she tugged at it occasionally. her hand rested on your neck at first, then she moved it down to your waist and slid her nimble fingers under your sweatshirt, making contact with your skin. you whimpered unintentionally at the sudden contact, which was not only amusing—but also incredibly alluring to jihyo.

“you’ve been waiting for this haven’t you?” she mumbles, pushing a strand of your hair out of your face. “i think it’s cute how you’re on top of me, but you seem much more shaken up.”

you try to respond to jihyo, but a lump forms in your throat when she pulls back a little more and looks at you like you’re the cutest thing in the world. jihyo slides her hands further up near the middle of your ribs, making your breath hitch.

“didn’t know you’d be this easy to rile up spiderwoman.”

before you can try to respond, she closes the gap you groan into her mouth. with a swift press of her fingers against your skin, you part your lips for her to explore your mouth, then push yourself closer to her. her touch sends a shiver down your spine and the way her tongue takes over in your mouth drives you fucking crazy.

she makes her way down to your neck with soft kisses serving as a trail, then nips at your skin softly, eliciting a soft, breathy “fuck” from you.

jihyo pulls away and you whine. she tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and looks into your eyes before mumbling, “you’re cute.”

you smile and your lips meet again, you pull away to murmur against her lips softly, “bedroom?” and jihyo hums in agreement.

the two of you get up from the couch, but your lips are almost unable to part from one another for more than five seconds. you bump into the walls clumsily, which makes you two laugh even as you groan into each other’s mouths—it’s all so heartwarming and cute—and soon you manage to make it to jihyo’s room.

now it’s jihyo’s turn to press you against the door again. you curse lowly as she marks up your neck again and try to feel for the light switch against the wall; you manage to light up the room despite your eyes closing from the overwhelming feeling of jihyo’s skilled lips.

she pulls away for a second and asks, “are you sure you want to-“

“fuck yes, please.” you answer immediately, then cut her off with a hungry kiss that leaves her stumbling back. you kiss her needily and fumble with the edge of her shirt before slipping it off, and when you pull away to gaze at her body you let out a breath of amazement.

jihyo laughs. “you kept teasing me about how i could undress you, but look who’s so eager to have me naked.” she asks, catching you staring at her in awe. you part your lips at the sight of her tremendously toned core and she snickers. “you like what you see?”

“love what i see,” you sigh, “shit, you’re beautiful.”

“let me help you out, i wanna see what’s under there again.”

with a swift movement, she slips off your sweatshirt and you’re both standing close to each other topless.

you were confident enough with your words and jihyo seeing your skin when you had that mask on, but now that it’s just you; you feel a little shy now that you’re a bit revealed in front of jihyo—despite still having a bra on—and you avoid eye contact.

her eyes soften. “you’re so pretty.” she sighs, then kisses you swiftly and sweetly.

the detective is a natural leader, and it’s showing now. she guides you to the bed while exploring the curves and grooves of your body, then she’s straddling you on her queen sized bed.

you pull away and jihyo looks at your dilated pupils—completely taking over your eyes.

“can i— can i take your bra off?”

“of course.” jihyo responds.

your fingers work to unclasp jihyo’s bra and holy shit you’re stunned. your eyes widen and you exhale in amazement.

as embarrassing as it is to admit, you’ve fantasized at the ungodly hours of the night and also during those boring moments at work about seeing jihyo like this. you thought you’d be fine in a situation like this seeing you’ve daydreamed about it—but fuck it’s better than anything you can imagine now that it’s really happening. you pause in your place, halting any action.

“cat got your tongue?”

“i— fuck you’re so pretty jihyo.” you sigh, “can i touch you?”

“of course,” and right after her approval your hand slides up from her waist to her chest.

the way she gasps as you brush your fingers over her nipple is music to your ears, and it does not help the way your cunt throbs. something about the way she groans roughly when you pinch her bud slightly makes you groan in response, muttering a small “holy shit” in response.

you press a chaste kiss on her breast and trail down with your tongue to swirl around the peak of her breast, taking note of what kind of action makes her breath shake the most. the only thing you want to do right now is make her feel good, make her feel the same as you.

“your tits are so fucking nice,” you say, and jihyo lets out a sound that’s a mix of a laugh and a moan.

a couple minutes pass of you shamelessly indulging in jihyo’s tits (something that you could get used to—something that you need to do often) and your lips find their way back to each other. then, jihyo pulls away and she look at you with lidded eyes.

“can i—”

“please,” you interject, “please.”

“whatever you’d like,” jihyo says amusingly, “let me take care of you. i’m gonna make you feel good, okay?”

you nod eagerly and she unclasps your own bra, biting her lip at the new territory revealed. she mutters a compliment and you simply whimper at her words. needless to say, your reactions have jihyo surprised and invested.

she works at your tits for a while, leaving a couple marks in between, under, and on them. you grip at her bedsheets and arch your back at the way she swirls her tongue skillfully around your sensitive areas, you’re practically drowning in bliss and she hasn’t even touched you where you need it most yet.

her lips leave a trail of pecks on your body as she lowers down, and when she reaches your soft tummy her hands tug your pants down.

“hyo, p—please…” you groan, “please touch me.”

jihyo hums and she presses a finger against your underwear, it makes your hips twitch.

she kisses your inner thighs and leaves you breathless, your eyes shut as you press against the mattress. she pulls away and slides your underwear off, tossing it aside carelessly and biting her lip when she meets your core.

a soft peck is pressed on your clit and you let out a stifled moan. gently, she slides her fingers along your walls. she smiles at how aroused you are, feeling the slick that dampens her fingers.

“god, you’re so wet y/n.”

“shut—shut up.”

“excited aren’t you?” she teases, “i like this side of you more than spiderwoman to be honest.”

before you can respond, she latches her mouth onto your pussy and the surge of pleasure makes you groan so loud that it even takes you by surprise. you bite your lip the more she lashes at your dripping center, sucking, slicking, and savoring the sweet slick that seeps out.

your hand immediately reaches for her hair the more she indulges in your pussy, and she groans against you.

you’re not sure how long it’s been since she went down on you, but you’re feeling that knot forming in your stomach the more she tongue fucks you and the more you whine. you’re completely lost in pleasure; a few points of contact from her nose to your clit and tongue to your walls and you’re sent over the edge.

a hoarse, strangled sound between a cry and a moan is heard from you, jihyo continues to savor your sweetness. you push your head back into the mattress and jihyo trails back up to you with kisses.

“holy shit,” you say breathless, jihyo grins while you recover.

“how was it?”

“i— think you know the answer.” you sigh as you prop yourself on your elbows. “i’ve um, i’ve thought about you like this before and— this is better than anything i’ve ever imagined.”

jihyo chuckles and you cup her cheek, then kiss her fervently. she hums into the kiss and you pull away, stroking her cheek with your thumb.

seeing as you’re spiderwoman, you’re naturally quick to recover. your hand moves back to her breast and you brush your finger over her nipple, earning a sharp breath from her.

“my turn to make you feel good.”

with a swift motion, you flip jihyo over and pin her down on the bed. she gasps at the sudden change, and before she has time to process much—you’re already occupied with her boobs.

blindly, you slider her pants and panties off with a quick motion and slide your hands up and down her legs. jihyo’s moans are on the louder side, and they’re strangled too.

you’re so eager to hear her come undone, so eager to leave her a mess. with thumb her clit once, then twice, and then stick your fingers inside—which has jihyo’s nails grasping at your shoulder and her breath shaking.

the more you pump in and out, the closer she is to breaking. you savor each and every moan that reverberates against the walls in her room, making sure the target the spots that make her curse louder than ever. her hands uncontrollably grip at your tricep, then your shoulder, and soon she’s gripping your hair, which has you groaning against her chest shamelessly while you mark it up.

“y-y/n, oh— i’m close, i-i’m— keep going,"

with the overwhelming sensation of your tongue swirling around her nipple and the way your thumb presses against her clit—she’s breathing heavily, shaking, and soon enough she’s trembling after a loud yelp. she mutters a string of curses and does what you had done before, sinking into the mattress and once you pull away from her chest to gaze at her; she pulls you in for a messy, sensual kiss.

the two of you stay like that for a while, kissing tiredly and sloppily before you fall over beside her on the bed.

“god, y/n…”

“did you like it?” you ask. the smug smirk on your lips makes jihyo sigh amusingly and she shakes her head playfully.

“of course i did.”

“we should…” you begin, “do this more often—if you’re fine with that.”

jihyo laughs and you lay your head on her chest.

“i’m more than fine with it, spiderwoman.”

when jihyo wakes up, she feels an extra warmth on the left side of her body.

she looks down and looks at the face squished in her chest which makes her smile immediately. you’re breathing gently and one arm is draped across her body, loosely resting above her waist.

“like my boobs that much?” she chuckles softly, tracing her finger along your soft skin. you grumble into her and sigh, waking up to the low sound of her voice.

you blink three times—though the first two times were slow and lazy—then shift closer into her. your hand presses her against you more, and you tangle your leg with hers before mumbling, “morning.”

she laughs at the lower tone of your morning voice and kisses your forehead. “good morning y/n.”

after rubbing your face against her shoulder, you push yourself up and prop yourself up on one elbow. jihyo laughs at your squinted, tired eyes before you tickle her with kisses on her jaw and neck.

“jihyo,” you begin—she hums in response. “do you think we rushed this?” you ask, referring to whatever relationship you two have now as you slide your along the skin over her ribs.

“hm, i don’t think so. you’ve already been saying a lot of suggestive things prior to this.”

“you liked it though.”

“maybe.” jihyo says, rolling her eyes. you drop back down onto the bed and return to nuzzling your face into the crook of her neck, kissing it once before closing your eyes again. “y/n,” jihyo says again, this time with a tone that makes you open your eyes again.

“yes?”

“what would your uncle say if… if he knew his detective slept with his niece?”

now your eyes widen and your body tenses. “shit.” you groan. jihyo laughs and you sit up quickly. “how bad did you mark me?”

“let’s hope there’s a store nearby that has concealer in your shade y/n.”

#twice x reader #twice imagines #kpop x reader #miinatozakiii #jihyo x reader #twice jihyo #park jihyo #jihyo imagines #twice #jihyo

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nanawritesit · 2 years

Text

Obey Me! Dateables Imagine: MC is kidnapped by a lower demon and summons them to come save them

Demon Brothers Ver.

Characters: Lord Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon, and Solomon

Trigger Warnings: MC is tied to a chair and slightly manhandled, slightly suggestive at the end of Solomon's, mentions of choking

A/N: As soon as I saw how many people loved the version with the brothers, I knew I'd be writing a version with the side characters! I've gotten so many requests to do so, and ya know, my now dateable babes deserve the same amount of love :) I changed the scenario a tiny bit since not all of them are demons, but its the same plot line, so ENJOY!

Oh! I almost forgot, I won't be writing for Raphael, Mephisto, or Thirteen since I don't feel like I know their characters very well. I'm only on lesson 28 but maybe if I get far enough into the story I'll start including them!

Scenario:

You thought all of this would be over. You had been at RAD for half a year now. All the demons seemed to be used to your presence and no one had so much as given you dirty looks anymore. When you first arrived you were the target of some bullying and pranks, but after the school learned you were under the protection of the seven brothers, that ceased to exist.

So when Judas, a popular and nice demon in your history class offered to help you study after school, you gladly accepted it. It was your worst subject, and exams were quickly approaching. He was smart, pretty, and seemed to get along well with everyone.

That was what you thought until you woke up in a dark room, tied to a chair looking up at him, horrified. Your mind drifted back to when he offered you a drink when you first came to the study room. He must have slipped you something and then drug you off to some secluded area.

“Why would you do this?” you demanded, tugging at the ropes that bound your fists together behind the chair.

“Because I think Lord Diavolo��s plan to unite the three realms is blasphemous.” Judas spat back. “Humans could never stand as equals to demons, and when I’m done with you, he’ll feel the same way.”

“I’ll give you one chance.” you told him with an ice cold stare, doing an awful good job at hiding your fear. “Let me go right now and I won’t call for him.”

Judas laughed maniacally, throwing his head back to the ceiling and clapping his hands. He then grabbed the back of your neck and forced you to look up at him. “Go ahead. I’m sure they won’t do anything. You may think that he likes you, but he only protects you out of pity.”

You gave Judas a small smirk before screaming out for your beloved.

Lord Diavolo:

"You sure about that?" a deep voice boomed behind Judas. Diavolo's enormous frame practically swallowed up the inferior demon, instantly striking fear into his heart. He was in his gorgeous demon form, which he hardly ever sported around his subjects.

Diavolo simply crossed his arms over his chest and chuckled. His calm demeanor was somehow even more terrifying than if he were acting as furious as he felt on the inside. But Diavolo was a true royal, and he knew the best way to get to this degenerate was to maintain his composure. He took slow, dignified steps towards him, flapping his huge, dark wings with each stride. He stopped in front of Judas and put one of his massive hands over his shoulder.

"Forgive me my subject, but I don't think I feel the same way as you. You see, MC is more valuable to me than the entire Devildom." Diavolo was acting very proper, but it was only because he had to keep his image as prince. "However, you did put your hands on my irreplaceable companion, who happens to be a guest in our realm. Now I can't just let that go unpunished, can I?" The smile on his face didn't drop for a second as he patted Judas on the back.

He then snapped his fingers and summoned the royal guard. The lower demon cowered in fear at the many soldiers that pointed their swords at him. He was shaking in his boots, sweating and tearing up.

"Aw, don't look so sad Judas!" the Lord laughed, "The dungeon isn't that dark and scary. In the future, I wouldn't recommend kidnapping a human that has a pact with the Prince of Hell." The smirk on his face was positively sinister. "Take him away." he ordered, and the guard immediately left the room, dragging Judas away as he begged for forgiveness.

Once they were all gone, Diavolo immediately unsheathed a dagger from his hip and cut your ropes open in one quick swipe. You instantly jumped into his arms. He was holding onto you so tight, as if he was scared you weren't going to be there if he let go. You pulled back after a while and realized that his demon form had vanished… and that he was crying.

"Dia it's alright, he didn't hurt me!" you reassured him, placing a comforting hand on his cheek.

"I'm so sorry." he pleaded, placing his hand over yours. "I told you I would keep you safe here. I failed you."

"No you didn’t, my prince." you told him, putting your forehead against his. "I knew you would come in a second. I never doubted you and I'm not going to start now."

"I love you." he whispered through a choked down sob. "I'm never letting you out of my sight MC. I promise you this won't happen again. I'll do whatever I have to do to make this kingdom a safe place for you."

Barbatos:

That poor little demon. Barbatos was known to be the most sinister and lethal demon in the entire Devildom. Not even Lucifer entertained the idea of crossing him. After all, he had to be extremely formidable to work as the Demon Lord's faithful butler. He was used to cleaning up messes for Diavolo, and taking care of several assassination attempts before word could even reach the young prince.

At first, Barb was surprised that you had chosen him. He thought for sure that you would call for one of the brothers. In fact, the only reason he had formed a pact with you was because they were all gone on a business trip one day, and he wanted to be sure that you had protection. However, he was beyond honored that your first instinct was to summon him. He had always secretly been jealous of your closeness with the brothers, wishing he could have that kind of relationship with you. He just thought you were so nice and lovely, but he was afraid that you only saw him as a side character in your life.

The butler was absolutely enraged when he saw the lesser man gripping on your neck as if you were some toy. The glow of his dark, powerful magic radiated all around him, and in a flash he tackled Judas to the ground. He pinned him down with his knee and tied his hands behind his back. Once Judas was restricted from all movement, Barbatos chuckled in a sadistic manner for a while at the scene in front of him.

"Ah, my apologies, but did you honestly think that I would let someone as pitiful as you get away with hurting MC? Not only are they a vital part of my master's dream for this kingdom, but I care for them far too much to let you lay so much as your pinky finger on them."

Next, he leaned down to whisper in Judas' ear. "Don't fret little infidel, our fun isn't over yet. I'll be back for you in a second." Judas was banished to some other location at the wave of Barb’s gloved hand, and you never saw him again after that moment.

"MC? Did he harm you at all?" Barbatos asked as he sliced through your restraints with his tail. There was so much concern in his eyes, you were so touched.

"No, I'm alright, it was just scary." you chuckled awkwardly. You could feel your anxiety overwhelming you as the ropes fell to the ground. You were shaking and tearing up, not being sure how to handle the adrenaline rush of the situation.

He reached out a hand towards you for a second, then pulled back in hesitation.

You shouldn't indulge in their presence. He thought to himself. They probably want one of the brothers to comfort them.

His internal monologue was interrupted when you suddenly jumped up and engulfed him in the tighest embrace he had felt in centuries.

"Thank you, Barbatos. I knew you would come for me."

He was utterly frozen, totally taken aback at your appreciation. He couldn't help himself anymore and put his arms around you. He squinted his eyes at the warmth of your embrace. It felt like he belonged there, and he never wanted to be anywhere else from that point on. Maybe you did see him as more than a side character.

Simeon:

To Judas' misfortune, he assumed that you would call upon another demon to come help you. He didn't know that you were also close with Simeon, one of the highest ranking angels. You knew that a demon, especially one as low ranking as him, would be powerless in the presence of such a celestial being. That and, Simeon told you when you first came here that if you were ever in trouble, you could summon him.

You guys didn't have a pact obviously, but he had given you a special crystal necklace that would activate in times of extreme stress and danger, that would notify him that you needed help. He had given it to you after your near-death experience with Belphie. He didn't want to tell you for fear of jeopardizing your relationship, but he had a very hard time forgiving Belphie after that because he almost took you away from him, and... he didn't like thinking about demons wanting to kill you. He wanted to protect you and be your guardian your whole life, until you could become an angel like him. He really did like you and when he imagined his eternity, you were always there next to him.

He appeared within seconds, literally glowing with divine light. Judas was blinded at the angel's heavenly brightness, and immediately fell to his knees.

"You poor, misguided soul." Simeon muttered softly, placing two fingers under Judas’ jaw and forcing him to look him in the eye. "Going around torturing innocent humans... its not your fault you can't be as virtuous and beautiful as MC is."

"Simeon, I-" Judas began rambling, "I didn't mean to-"

"Hush now." Simeon interrupted, clearly not willing to give him the chance to explain himself at all. He leaned down to Judas' face. "I pray that you find salvation with your creator."

"No please!" Judas begged, but Simeon was already taking off his glove. He emitted an even brighter golden light from his palm, and Judas disintegrated to ash at it.

"My dear MC-" Simeon began as he rushed over to untie you. "Thank goodness I gave you that necklace. I don't know what I would have done if that monster laid a hand on you. You probably would have caught a glimpse of my dark side."

You laughed with him, taking his hand in yours. "Thank you Simeon. You always take such good care of me. I'm really happy to have you in my life."

His heart skipped a beat and he felt all warm and fuzzy. "MC... I don't have much experience with these kinds of things, but the way you keep brushing against death makes me want to confess something to you.

He brought the top of your hand to his mouth and kissed it before he went on. "I want to be with you, as more than just friends. I want to be by your side because you make me happy. If you'll have me, I'd like to be yours."

"Thank god- sorry, thank goodness." you chuckled, "I was starting to think you were never going to ask me. I've wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you."

He laughed with you, placing his forehead against yours.

"How about an equivalent exchange? I'll belong to you and you'll belong to me. It'll be like our version of a pact."

"Simeon, if you ever call our relationship a pact, I'll tell Solomon you want him to make dinner for you." you joked, pulling him in for a sweet kiss. His soft lips pressed against yours, one hand cupping your cheek and the other squeezing your own, running his thumb along the back of it. He was smiling into the kiss, and you couldn't help but do so as well.

"Your angel pleads for your forgiveness." he beamed, looking into your eyes with such pure adoration.

Solomon:

You guys didn't have a pact, but he did teach you a special summoning spell to use should you ever have issues with your magic and need his guidance. He didn't anticipate that it would also be useful in emergency situations, but he was glad that he had taught you.

Solomon is the most morally grey of all the guys, so he would have a really fun time with this lower demon. His dark eyes squinted at the sight of Judas with his hand on the back of your neck. Then he held his hand out and put him in a binding spell, pressing Judas flat against the wall until he couldn't move a muscle.

Solomon strode up to him and pressed a hand on the wall over his shoulder, looming overtop of him. "Care to explain what you were planning on doing to my apprentice? I'd love to know so I can deliver a curse unto you that's befitting."

Judas was struggling against the magic to utter out a sound that would somehow save him from Sol's wrath. But it was far too late, for he had already crossed a pretty thick line.

"I can't believe a creature like you had the gall to go after the companion of one of the world's most powerful sorcerers." Solomon began, his magic causing Judas' veins to pop out along the surface of his skin. "I'm almost impressed. However, you still threatened my favorite person, and I can't have other heathens like you thinking I'm okay with that. Unfortunately I'll have to make an example of you, little one."

The sorcerer then placed his palm against the demon's forehead, delivering the curse unto him. Once he was released from the curse, he sprinted out of the room.

"Don't worry, the true effects will show up in a few minutes. After that, no other demon here will even dream of hurting you." He got you out of the chair and helped you up.

"Sol..." you began, fighting back tears as he held your hands in his own. "I don't want to admit it, but that was really scary."

"It's alright, you're allowed to be scared. In fact, you should hang onto that sense of fear down here. It means you're still human." he smiled, running his thumbs along the backs of your hands.

"Well, you're a human, and you're not scared of anything." you challenged him.

"Sure I am." he chuckled, leaning in closer to your face. "Seeing you in danger like this? That scared me."

"I don't believe you." you told him, shaking your head with a smirk.

"Perhaps this will win you over?" he asked before capturing your lips in a kiss. You relaxed into his touch, putting your hands together behind his neck, his own slipping down to your waist. You indulged in each other for a moment, then he pulled away and grinned at you. "Let's go up to my room. I'll teach you some protection spells, and if you're a good little apprentice, I'll give you a reward."

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virtualreader · 11 months

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broken hearts and healing souls

deanwinchesterxfem!reader

summary: carrying the ruins of the broken heart the death of his father had left behind, Dean pushes you away, fearing hurting you as well. or perhaps he’s just scared of being hurt himself, one more time.

word count: 3,3k. (does not include lyrics)

warnings: alleged age gap, fierce anger, heated argument, drinking out of spite, supressed feelings, cursing, yelling, not the happiest end, and lots and lots of angst.

part 2

a/n: i started watching supernatural about a month ago and I'm loving it so far. and god, i couldn't help but fall truly, madly, deeply in love with dean winchester. this scenario came to my mind while listening someone to stay - vancouver sleep clinic, so this one shot is based on this song. feedback is always appreciated. please, comment if you think I should write a part 2 to this one!

"You can't boss me around, Dean! I'm not a child anymore!" you barked at the hunter standing by the motel room's door.

"I can't? Watch me!" Dean retorted, breathing heavily and extending his arms upward to appear bigger. "As the eldest here, it's my call to make the hard decisions. And I've decided that you won't come on any more hunts, end of story. You're risking your life out there—it's dangerous, y/n. What's not clear about that?!"

You and Dean had been arguing for a while. He came into the motel room the three of you—Sam, Dean and yourself—were forced to share, stringently declaring you were not allowed to go with them on hunts anymore.

After the previous mission ended with you being kidnapped by the demon you were after and tied to a chair in an old building's basement, the oldest brother wasted no time in making a decision. Despite your eagerness to rid the world of evil, Dean prioritized your safety, even if you didn't see it that way.

Dean Winchester was an undaunted and confident man, he had been since his mother died, he had to be, for his family's sake, for his own sake. Yet, when it came to you, potential bad outcomes constantly assaulted his mind. He could not afford to lose another loved one, so he did not take a gamble.

"It is my life that I am endangering, so I strongly believe that I get to choose whether I want to expose myself to hunting hazards or not. You are not my dad and cannot give me orders, Winchester!" you declared, raising your voice with anger and trembling as you pointed your index finger at him.

You were hurt and confused. Hunting had been your life for as long as you could remember and now he was taking that away from you. You tried to plead your case, but he had already made up his mind.

In response to your defiance, Dean raised his chin, pursed his lips, and clenched his jaw. Yet, even in his anger, he maintained steady eye contact with you. It was clear he was not going to back down easily.

“You don’t get it, do you?” he queried exasperated. “That demon back there, could have killed you, and you know that. This is not some inoffensive deer we’re going after.”

He was undoubtedly referring to the incident that happened earlier that day, when he was able to free you from the grasp of the demon. It was the same demon that mercilessly took your father’s life, leaving you fatherless at the tender age of twelve and subsequently placed under the care of the Winchesters.

Growing up with them, you learned to navigate the dangerous world of hunting and the supernatural. From hours-long road trips and campfires to cozy movie-evenings and pancake Sundays, your memories with your new family included a wide variety of experiences that left a lasting impact on you.

The bond you formed with the Winchesters was one built on mutual respect and a shared purpose, making them more than just your guardians; they were your family, and you were theirs.

"God, what a pig-headed dude you are," you muttered, oozing frustration, as you let out a peeved sigh. "So you, old man, can risk being killed by these heartless creatures, but I can't? Is it just because I'm younger than you guys? ‘Cause I already told you, I am as much of an adult as you are.”

Clearly, you would not be swayed by Dean's demands. You were your own person, with your own will and your own desires. You were determined to stand up for yourself and live your life on your own terms.

He took a moment to observe your bruised appearance as he pondered his answer. The blood that had previously emerged from the wound above your eyebrow was already dry, while the cut on your lip was still struggling to form a scab.

He noticed the swelling around your left eye, a tell-tale sign of the force of the blow that had landed on your face. And as he looked at you, he could not help but feel responsible for your emaciated state.

"If you're such an adult, you'll be fine on your own. You don't need me, do you?" the hunter sassed back, towering over you, tilting his head and upturning his brows.

Dean's words hurt you deeply, and you felt tears welling up in your eyes. But you refused to let him see you cry. You straightened your back and met his gaze with a fierce determination.

"Do you want me to leave?” you said, your voice shaking a little. “Fine. If that's what you want, I'll leave. But don't expect me to come back."

You walked past him, feeling his eyes on your back. You didn't turn around, didn't give in to the urge to look at him again. You needed to be strong, to show him that you could make it on your own. But deep down, you knew that you didn't want to be alone. You needed Dean, more than you wanted to admit.

"Hey, girl!" you called out to the waitress, raising your voice above the noise of the tavern to get her attention. "Can I get a refill, please?”

You were alone, left out in the cold Clinging to the ruin of your broken home Too lost and hurting to carry your load We all need someone to hold

As you waited for your drink, you couldn't help but replay the argument with Dean in your mind. You felt hurt and betrayed by his words. You were mad at him for not understanding your desire to be by his side, no matter the risks.

You were lost in thought when a voice snapped you out of your reverie.

"Rough night?" inquired a gold-haired man as he took a seat on the adjoining stool.

The man seemed to be a bit younger than Dean, possibly in his mid-twenties, closer to your own age. He wore a white crewneck t-shirt that hugged his muscular arms around the biceps, and his dark slim fit jeans matched the black pattern printed on his shirt's front.

It was difficult to determine whether it was the effect of the second-rate alcohol or your personal taste in men, but it was safe to say he was far from unattractive and he was, in fact, quite handsome.

"You could say so." you answered his question with a touch of apathy but still flashed a slight smile his way.

You've been fighting the memory, all on your own Nothing worsens, nothing grows I know how it feels being by yourself in the rain We all need someone to stay We all need someone to stay

The man took a slow, deliberate sip from his beer bottle and leaned back, his eyes fixed intently on you. His gaze seemed to linger for a moment, as if he were trying to gauge your reaction to what he had just said.

"You know," he said, his voice low and suggestive, "I can make it better for you, pretty."

The words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. You felt a flush of heat rise to your cheeks at the man's brazen suggestion, and you couldn't help but feel a little intrigued by his offer.

You glanced around the dimly lit tavern, taking in the smoky air and the clinking of glasses. It was the kind of place where people came to drown their sorrows and forget about the troubles of the day-to-day life. And in that moment, you couldn't help but feel like you were just another lost soul adrift in the sea of humanity.

The man's eyes were still fixed on you, his expression unreadable. He seemed to be waiting for your response, as if he knew that his offer had the power to change the course of your night—or maybe even your life.

You took a deep breath and met his gaze head-on, feeling a sense of daring that you hadn't felt in a long time.

"And how, exactly, do you plan on doing that?" you asked, your voice tinged with a hint of amusement.

The man smiled, a slow, confident grin that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Let's just say that I know a thing or two about making a woman feel good," he replied, his voice dripping with innuendo.

It was abundantly clear what his intentions were at this point in time, and to be entirely candid, it did not annoy you at all.

You eagerly accepted the charming man's alluring offer. And with a sense of anticipation, you followed him out of the sleazy bar, seeking shelter from the gentle patter of the light rain under the protective eaves.

As you walked alongside him, you found yourself captivated by his confident stride and the way his eyes sparkled in the dim light emanating from the street lamps.

You could feel his hand slowly making its way towards your hip, until it rested there, just barely grazing the upper part of your buttocks. This subtle touch sent a sparkling feeling coursing through your body, starting from the core and reaching all the way up to your chest. It created a warm whirlwind of expectancy, causing your heart to beat faster in anticipation.

“Y/n?” a familiar voice asked, a hint of pain in it.

Hear the fallen and lonely, cry out Will you fix me up? Will you show me hope? At the end of the day you were helpless Can you keep me close? Can you love me most?

Dean narrowed his eyes, anguishedly taking in the sight in front of him.

As you stood there, drenched from the rain and your mind clouded by the alcohol, Dean's sudden appearance caught you off guard. He was directly facing you, his eyes locked onto yours, and you could see the pain and anger etched upon his features.

"What the hell are you doing here, y/n?" Dean asked incredulously, his voice laced with anger and hurt. “And who the fuck is that jerk?”

You froze, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you. You had been so caught up in your own emotions that you hadn't even considered how your actions might affect Dean.

You've drunk it down and you've spat it out And nothing tastes like the things you had So tear it off, why don't you let them go? We all need someone to stay We all need someone to stay

"I didn't know she was taken, mate. I didn't mean to meddle in your relationship," the guy standing next to you apologized, his voice trembling as Dean's contempting gaze threatened to pierce his soul. Green eyes—usually a symbol of grace—had never held such a look of hatred. “She’s all yours, mate.”

Once the man marched back into the tavern, with tail between legs, the hunter’s emerald orbs landed on you. And as he beamed down at you, you noticed how much woe his gaze held. He wasn’t someone to let his emotions surface, not at all, that would leave his feelings too exposed, too unguarded.

He didn't seem to mind the rain dribbling over his leather jacket or his well-styled hair as he approached you. Although you had a defiant demeanor, you took a step backward in response, and your back met the wall covered in graffiti.

“Thought you said ‘I’d be fine on my own’.” you tried to sound confident as you quoted him, yet the alcohol running through your veins caused your words to slur together.

"Yeah, I said on your own! Not with some opportunistic macho man!" he said, referring to your previous companion.

He looked at you with a mixture of disbelief and anger, his eyes scanning your face as if he was trying to find some kind of explanation for what he was seeing.

And then, his anger boiled over, and he let out a shout that echoed through the empty streets. "No way. Are you fucking drunk?!" he yelled. "Are you nuts?!"

The force of his outburst hit you like a physical blow, and you could feel your heart racing in your chest. You had never seen Dean like this before, and it was clear that he was at his breaking point.

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, staring at each other in silence, the rain pouring down around you like a curtain. And then, slowly, you began to speak, your words tumbling out of you in a jumbled mess.

"You're one to talk. You, my dear friend, are the very reason I'm here, drinking my sorrows away." you scoffed at him.

Your eyes darted around, looking at anything but Dean. You felt intimidated—what with Dean’s tall figure and the disappointment you could discern in his expression.

“Drinking won’t solve anything, y/n. You know better than this.”

"Do I really?” you uttered, struggling to keep at bay your wobbly lip. “Last time I checked, I was just a kid to you.”

Hear the fallen and lonely, cry out Will you fix me up? Will you show me hope? At the end of the day we're helpless Can you keep me close? Can you love me most? Can you keep me close? Can you love me most? Can you keep me close? Can you love me most?

As the rain continued to fall, the rhythmic clattering of the water drops mixed with the sound of cars cruising over the wet pavement, creating an overwhelming melody.

The droplets seemed to grow in size and force. You welcomed the heavier rain, grateful for the way it obscured the tears that threatened to overflow from your eyes.

You knew that if he saw you crying, he would only see you as weak and immature, even more than he already saw you. You had always been strong and independent, and you didn't want him to think any less of you.

So you stood there, letting the rain soak into your clothes and hair, hoping that it would wash away the pain and sorrow you felt inside.

“I don’t think of you as a kid. I just prefer you staying away from those creatures. You know better than anyone what that demon is capable of. It killed your father, and you could’ve died today too, y/n!”

“Do not act like you care! And do not dare mentioning my dad ever again! You are too self-centered to take others’ needs into account.”

With a trembling voice, you lashed out at Dean, your emotions running high and your patience wearing thin. You couldn't stand the way Dean tried to control your life, always telling you what to do and what not to do.

You had grown up fast in the world of hunting, learning to fend for yourself and to take care of others. You had seen things that most people couldn't even imagine, and you had faced danger and death head-on. You were not some delicate flower that needed to be protected at all costs.

And yet, Dean seemed to think otherwise. He was always trying to shield you from harm, even if it meant keeping you from doing what you loved most.

"Do you even hear yourself, Dean?" you continued, your voice rising with every word. "You act like you're the only one who knows what's best for me. You don't trust me to make my own decisions, although I've been hunting just as long as you have. You're so wrapped up in your own fears and insecurities that you can't see how much you're hurting me."

"You're part of my family now, and as such, I must protect you," Dean declared, helplessness building up inside his chest. "Why do you find it so hard to understand?”

You were alone, left out in the cold Clinging to the ruin of your broken home Hear the falling and lonely, cry out Will you fix me up? Will you show me hope? The end of the day and we're helpless Can you keep me close? Can you love me?

“I-…Just…leave me alone. Please, Dean.”

And it was then when, acting on your most primitive impulses, you took off, walking away from Dean with no determined destination.

It was not that you were afraid of Dean, no, you had spent too many years among the Winchesters to know he would never voluntarily hurt you, at least not physically. You found him sort of intimidating, more like it.

It was well known among the Winchesters' acquaintances that Dean, although not often, could become livid if you pressed the right buttons. And no one would ever want that fatal rage to be directed at them, unless they wanted to know what hell felt like.

However, the emotion the hunter was feeling now was not anger. It was something else, something both mysterious and intriguing. Although his muscles remained tight, his eyes shone with unshed tears, and a pinched expression was plastered on his face.

You fought against the urge to turn back and run into his embrace, to apologize to him and leave this dispute behind. It was a struggle to hold onto your never-so-fragile pride when your love for him had never felt as powerful as it did now. Not since you had first fallen in love with him, at least, back when you were a silly, naive teenager.

A hand grabbed firmly onto your arm, forcing you into a halt. You did not have the courage to turn around and face him with a trail of tears cascading over your cheeks, even if the drizzling rain disguised it somewhat. There was no need for that, however, when he began speaking, not waiting for you to look at him.

"I'm sorry, y/n," he apologized in a small voice, unaccustomed to saying such words. "I didn't mean to push you away. I... I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you. I'm scared, y/n. Scared of losing you like I lost my father, like I lost my mother," Dean confessed, his voice softening, dropping in pitch.

You turned to look at him, really look at him, and saw the pain and fear written in his face.

You felt a lump form in your throat at the raw emotion in Dean's words. You had always known that he cared about you, but you had never realized just how much you meant to him.

"Dean," you said, stepping closer to him and placing a hand on his arm. "I'm not going to die. I'm strong, and I know how to take care of myself. But I need you to trust me. I need you to let me make my own decisions, even if it means taking risks sometimes."

You stopped, taking a big deep breath before continuing.

“What you said back at the motel, it hurt me, a lot. I have nothing left, Dean. My family is dead, I have no place to stay, no job, no nothing. I’ve lost everything.”

“You have me.” He took a step towards you, getting closer, and caressed your feathery cheek with his large hand. “You always have and always will have me.”

Dean wiped away a tear from your cheek, his thumb tracing your skin softly. "I'm sorry for pushing you away, y/n. I was just so afraid of losing you. But I promise, from now on, I'll trust you to make your own decisions. We'll face everything together, as a team."

A turmoil of heartfelt emotions whirled its way down to your very core as Dean's words sank in. And, as you looked up at him, you saw the love and devotion in his eyes, and you felt grateful like never before to the Winchesters for taking you in.

Seizing the proximity, you took a moment to admire him. The softness on his eyes only adding to his already perfectly alluring features. The green orbs standing out his face had never shone as bright, and his nose glowed as red as his eyes, probably from the cold air of the drizzly night.

Yet the part you spent the longest time observing was his lips. Sultry pouty lips, that rested slightly parted.

And as if in a dream, he leaned in intertwining his lips with yours in a genuine kiss. Sliding the hand that previously laid on your cheek to the back of your neck, bringing you nearer to his own body.

His grip was both firm and steady, but no less gentle, just so as if he never wanted to let go of you. Your movements kept in step with each other's, as your mouths melted in a much-needed dance.

None of you cared about the rain soaking your clothes or the idling engine of the precious impala of Dean’s, nor about the small crowd by the tavern’s entrance looking at you. You were in a deep immersion into the depths of the moment, and all you saw, all you could regard was the man in front of you - the man you’ve always loved.

The idyllic moment was short-lived, much to your dismay, as Dean pulled away and apprehensively took a step backwards. But the pain you felt then was nothing compared to the stabbing sensation in your heart when he opened his mouth to speak again.

"I'm sorry. This was a mistake."

part 2

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lix-ables · 1 year

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🎀 𝐬𝐤𝐳 + 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 ... 🩰

— minors dni, 18+ content.

🧽 smut includes, perv thoughts, exhibitionism + voyeurism, use of mirror, sexting, slight pillow humping (sigh), bondage - use of ties/ribbons, gagging, dirty talk, edging, groping, lingerie kink, panty stealing, corruption kink, oral fixation, dacryphillia, mentions of f and m rec, marking, mentions of tempurature play - ice, etc ( happy reading lovelies ‹33 )

🫀note: this was fr so much fun to write though i reposted this like 3 times so far, but third times a charm ig. please show this one some love, reblog and leave feedback !! it's my baby and im proud of it fr 😩

masterlist | do not repost or translate | words : 3019. ©︎ lix-ables

꒰ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧 ꒱… he'd watch you get into the car, his eyes looking you up and down when he saw what you wore - now for him, whatever you wore, he loved it. he thought you looked good in anything you wore. but today was so much more different - he couldn't hold it in. any other day, he'd think about it, and get himself off in the shower or in his room when you weren't home. but he had to tell you. now, he'd be polite but oh so teasing about it.

his free hand would rest on your thigh, while the other was placed on the steering wheel, his voice soft and low.

“wore this for you,” you tease back, pulling slightly at the hem of your skirt. “is that so?” chan smirks, his eyes focused on the road. how he wishes he was watching you right now, maybe stuff a finger or two to keep you from talking at all.

you'd laugh about it, trying to tease him more, before he mentions it and you tell him something was in his head for him to be this needy. “you think its funny,” he puts in, his eyes deadset on the road.but thats when he starts telling you about the thoughts he was having more recently than ever, and he can see you pressing your thighs together from the corner of his eyes. with his eyes on the road, and his mind filled with you, he'd guide you, instructing you more so, telling you things you'd want to hear, and things you have heard before - only thing is you're in the car with him. “fuck i bet its that pretty nude colour, hm? you know how pretty thats gonna look when i slide my dick between those tits of yours?”

“c-chan,” you whine, whispering for him to stop and focus. “oh i’m focused enough, baby. but i don’t think you are hmm?”

his words continue teasing you till the red light, and so now you'd have to be careful for him, there were other vehicles next to you, but chan didn't care about that. no one was watching you from how close he was. if he couldn't take matters into his own hands, he'd have to talk you through it. “take that off baby and be slow. one finger in. tease yourself for me, no one can see you - but they wish they could, hm?”

꒰ ��𝐢𝐧𝐡𝐨 ꒱… with minho, it’s simple, and he knows it as well. he loves teasing you to the point that you’re frustrated with him, and he fucks the frustration out of you – with his fingers gripping at your waist as he fucked you from behind, not forgetting to leave marks and bruises to your back. with minho, its also all about fun. from the moment he found out that you get too worked up and annoyed at him when he sent you a dick pic, just once, he wanted to try it out again.

with his thoughts about how you’d feel, with either your fingers or your lips wrapped around his length, teasing him, making him pull you closer, he seats a chair in front of the mirror in your room, a long white ribbon in his hand, taking his shirt and his sweats off, placing them in front of him on the floor, before sitting down on the chair, the cool wooden material making him groan in pleasure. if only he had ice with him right now, he’d bring it in a glass surely, keeping it down on the ground next to him, before taking a piece, teasing the tip of his cock, letting the coolness of the object in his hand melt so that it dripped onto the floor. and he fucking wished you were there to watch him tease himself. he’d either make you sit across him, and make you watch him as he got off, or he’d have you on your knees, while you tried to top him.

“desperate to top me hm?” he’s whisper, when he thinks of you showing up with one of his ties, suggesting that he had them around his wrist while he fucked your mouth. “you know you can’t do that right? no matter how much you try?”

“shut up and let me try,” you mumble a reply, as you bring the cloth tie to bind his wrists. how he’d love to tease you about it, before he did the same to you.

<remember the time you wanted to top me?> he sends in a message, reaching for the ribbon that he had set aside, and clicking a picture to send it to you.

and now all he had to do, was wait for you send in a reply, telling him how frustrated you were.

꒰ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐛𝐢𝐧 ꒱… now, you grind your pillow, not knowing that he's there, your fingers curling into the material of the pillow, your buttoned up shirt off, revealing your tits.

the way he'd just almost let out a moan when he sees you ride that pillow, when he sees you grab a tit, teasing the nipple once, wishing it was his thigh instead, and wishing it was his fingers instead, flicking and licking that sensitive bud. that's when he has a thought - he needed to see you ride that pillow in front of him, while he was in the room. but that's also when he hears you call out his name, whining until it gets too much, your fingers curling into the material of the pillow case as you rode your high out.

all this, while changbin watches. all this, while he thinks about scenarios of his own, wishing it was him, instead of that inanimate thing under you and between your thighs because of course, he'd be able to get you off as well, much more than the pillow. he's confident of that much.

he'd also think about how when you both went shopping, and you pulled him into the dressing room with you, making him sit down as you changed in front of him. he was your friend, sure - more like a friend who comes over every other night to fuck your brains out, but at that moment, at the dressing room, he had only one thought - his fingers tangled in your hair, as you clamped a hand over your mouth from whining when he reached over to pull you close to him, bringing his dick out only to buck his hips into you, a small help from you making him continue the same movements over and over, until you rode him with your fingers digging into his shirt as his own fingers stuffed past your lips, your tongue twirling around his fingers while his other hand rubbed your clit. “fucking needy little thing, aren’t you, doll? always needing something to stuff you up full, hm?”

꒰ 𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧 ꒱… when you're in the car with him, hyunjin has thoughts about you, and it was more now than before, because you just happen to wear his favourite pair of lingerie – he knows this because he took a peek at what you were wearing when you got in, the wind exposing a little bit of your thighs and also the shirt you wore? exposed the top half of the lingerie.

now he didn't mean to look at it. he knew deep down it would be an issue for him, but it was hard for him to control the need to just pull you to him and let you ride his fingers.

“you look good today,” he mumbles as he places his hand on the steering wheel, pausing a minute to take a good look at you. fuck. he should not have done that. and he knew it was wrong for sure, but when he saw the lingerie, his mind just... wandered.

he remembered from the time how he whined at the sight of you on your knees for him, getting him off while his friends/roommates are just outside in the living room, his fingers way too tangled in your hair, pulling and tugging on it while you looked up at him, your eyes watching his every expression. he'd be embarrassed by the fact that he has thoughts about you, unlike chan who is polite about it, but he can't help it. he'd obviously let you tease him, even if it would be torture for him, he cares about you and how you'd feel.

꒰ 𝐣𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠 ꒱… when you mentioned buying a couple of cute things to try on for him, jisung’s mind was busy. busy with thoughts about how to bring up the topic of gagging – how he wants to see you under him, with either his shirt or your panties in your mouth, while he fucked you. he also wanted to bring up the topic of how he had at least four pairs of your lingerie lying in his room, which he jerked off to… until one day, you found it yourself.

“ji, what’s this?” you call out to him, and he looks up from his phone, paying attention to the flimsy object resting between your fingers – your panties. “uhm, about that… i wanted to uh, talk to you –” he fumbles with his words, shooting straight up, ready to walk towards you with an explanation at the tip of his tongue.

“nuh uh, sit back down,” you shake your head at him, walking to the couch where he sat, motioning for him to sit down. with your hands coming to a rest on his shoulder, and your legs on either side of his own, you straddle him, keeping in mind that your crotch came directly in contact with his own bulge, which seemed to grow harder under you, and you take this as an advantage to grind against it a little.

“tell me more,” you hum when he groans in a needy tone, his hands on either sides and on the couch, fingers aching to fidget with something, anything. “tell me what you do.” “fuck, uhm. i uh –” “– jerk off to them?” you finish for him, bringing the material in between the two of you, before grinding against him once again, which earned a hiss from the boy under you. “shit can you no –”

“show me.” you smile at jisung, hand him your panties, inching forward and leaning close to him at the same time, and he shuffles in his seat. “show me how you jerk off with it. i’m sure you have thoughts, about me, maybe?”

“i’m sorry i just –” “i want to see,” you push again, this time resting your fingers on his chest, caressing the material under your touch. “i want to help. please let me help.”

꒰ 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐱 ꒱… felix has always thought about how you’d look with his fingers in your mouth, sucking on them. maybe even thought about your lips wrapped around the length of his dick, as he bucks his hips slowly, thrusting in and out to see your expression every time he pulled away. so when you came to him about your oral fixation, knowing absolutely almost to nothing about it, you could say he was pleased that you came to him, instead of someone else.

“what is it that you want to know, darling?” he whispers, his fingers tangled in yours as he seats you both on his couch, and he turns to face you. “i just keep wanting to have something, anything in my mouth, and i can’t help but feel –” you explain, only to stop when you see felix smiling at the words you chose. “what?” you mutter, clearly embarrassed now. “let me explain it to you in this way,” he starts, letting his hand rest under your jawline, tilting your chin to make you look at him. his thumb rests on your bottom lip, while the other fingers support your chin from under. “open, love,” he parts his lips, assuring you that he wouldn’t do anything without your permission. “it’s alright,” felix smiles, as he watches you part your lips for him, letting him slip his thumb inside, before he continues.

“suck. slowly, i’m not going anywhere,” he assures you again, his eyes watching you look at him, while his thumb was in your mouth, and he almost lets out a single groan when he feels your tongue twirl around it. “that’s it, there you go,” felix mutters, the smile on his face never leaving as he continues, “you, my darling, have the need to suck on something all the time don’t you? that’s okay,” he responds when you nod your head, while continuing to suck on his thumb. “i think there was a time when i used to bring people over, i’d either want to eat them out or mark them up, nice and pretty, all the time,” he recalls, his choice in words making your cheeks turn a shade of pink as you pull away from him.

“sorry,” you mumble, wiping your mouth of the drool before looking back at him. “that’s alright, love. i think i’d be able to help you with that fixation of yours, hm?” “it’s not going to change anything between us, right?” you question, hoping you’d still get to be friends with felix. “sure, baby. nothing’s going to change except me satisfying your oral fixation, or teaching you how to,” he smiles. but in his mind, he was thinking about how he would transition from having you suck on his fingers, to choking on his dick, but at your own pace. he wouldn’t want to corrupt you too much now, would he?

꒰ 𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐦𝐢𝐧 ꒱… seungmin had been thinking all morning about how good you felt, with your lips wrapped around his cock, while a set of his fingers rested on your head, stroking your hair, tugging on it every now and then when he felt you were teasing him a bit too much; another set of fingers gripped your own, as you looked up at him, your eyes filled with tears. “shh, pup. fuck… right there,” he hummed, just when your tongue kitten licked the tip of his cock, before letting him buck his hips into your face, your throat making a sound out of pleasure when he did so.

“fuck,” he mutters, raking his hands through his already messy hair, his fingers slipping past the sweats he was wearing, wrapping firmly around his length before fishing it out right after he pulled the material down for better access. just the mere thought of you tearing up, while being on your knees for him and ready to have him past your lips had him groaning in pain. and just when he needed you, his mind would wander – thoughts about you, sometimes scenarios of your hands being tied behind your back with the tie he wore that day – the navy blue cotton material tight around your wrists, but not too tight to stop the circulation of blood – god, the image he had in his head made him lose control, even when he knew he shouldn’t. on other days, thoughts about him deep throating you when he felt the need to just cool off as he gamed with the boys, you’re on your knees, he imagines, not even out of your work clothes as you took him as deep as you could, your nails digging into his thighs as his hips bucked into your face, his cock making you choke and gag, before it had you drooling – a fantasy he needed to come true.

so that’s when he decides to text you – <when’re you getting here? i need to fuck that pretty throat of yours.>

꒰ 𝐣𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧 ꒱… when jeongin found out about his new found fetish for being tied, he came and knocked on your door, hoping you’d answer quickly. “i need you to help me,” he mumbles when you open the door for him and he makes himself at home on your couch. by now that couch was his favourite place - his second home, if you could say. “do you need me to get you off or…”

“it’s complicated,” jeongin sighs, as he pulls out his black tie from his sweats, and places them on the coffee table in front of you. “fuck, i want to try something, please?” he whines, the neediness in him being so obvious that you kneel down in front of him, holding the tie in your hand, and look up at him. “what do you want me to do, baby?” you nod, resting your hand on his thigh, while your other hand feels the material of the tie in between your fingers. “tie my wrists please? want you to tease me, but i don’t think i can stop myself from holding on to something, and i don’t want to hurt you,” he shuts his eyes, laying his hands in front of him, for you to take and tie them up.

which is what leads to the current situation – you on jeongin’s side, as he sits with his dick out in your hand, his shirt riding up to his chest, while his hands are tied behind his back.

“fuck, please don’t tease,” he whines out, his fingers curling an uncurling at the way your fingers stroked his length. “you were just telling me about how you weren’t being good,” you remind him, applying a little more pressure on your grip than before, which makes him exhale deeply. “shit, y/n… you k-know i can’t–” “talk? i do know that, but you need to tell me what you did,” you caress his bare thigh and look at the way he curled his toes. “you’re going to be sitting here all night, baby, and i’ll make sure you come at least thrice more before i let you go,” you remind him, your voice soft as you let him ride out his second orgasm. “so tell me, what thoughts have you had about me, hm?

taglist. @hwajin @starlostseungmin @chrisbahng @niinjo @chvnnie @lixhues @joonszn @cherryhanji @blueberry-chan @dnadoublefelixx @ethereallino @stuckwithaphobiaa @chewryy @bangchanbabygirlx @zizis-world12 @aimeexx @whatudowhennooneseesyou @nightlychans @americanokisses @katieraven @comet-falls @hwan-g @svintsandghosts @idek-at-this-point-lol @es-kay-zee @writerracha @bbujiikseu @lethallyprotected @sstarryoong @tulips-stuff @guchiljeu @derinxfam

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bomber-grl · 7 months

Text

Justice League Conference

Pairing(s): Damian Wayne x intended male reader (no gendered pronouns)

Summary: Just you and Damian drooling over the other instead of paying attention during the meeting. (+ a bonus scene)

The entire justice league including everyone who worked with/ under Batman was asked to come to this conference concerning an asteroid or whatever.

To be completely honest you weren’t really paying attention, especially with the beauty that was Damian Wayne in front of you.

You could tell he felt the same as he kept eyeing you from across the table and mouthing things.

At least you’d occasionally pay attention right? Yea absolutely not. Sure you’d look at whoever was speaking but Damian was in a whole other league.

When you turned to look at whoever was speaking once again, you accidentally lock eyes with Tim. Who purposefully rolled his eyes and made a gagging motion.

When he suddenly stopped you looked at the source, which was Bruce motioning for him to cut it out.

Besides that and catching some other high ranked heroes chuckling at you and Damian’s antics nothing much happened.

Then you felt Damian’s foot touch yours from under the table, which was concerning considering how wide the table was, but that was soon pushed to the back of your mind.

You let out a quiet laugh and you tapped his foot back, then he handed you a note.

“You look cute today” Was what it said.

You paused then wrote “oh? So I’m not normally cute?” And waited for the heroes to face away from y’all in order pass it. He quickly replied back.

“You know that’s not what I meant”

A whispered “hey” caught both of your attentions, it had come from Jason.

“I know you guys are being cute or whatever but shh” and he leaned back in his chair. With the way he was smirking you could tell he didn’t really care if you guys continued on but could tell he was sorta pressured by Bruce who was motioning for him to say something to you guys.

Eventually things got boring being on your own so you opted to just open your bag of chips and slid it, silently offering for Damian to take some. He refused but ultimately took one, a ghost of a smile on his face.

At one point someone (you weren’t paying attention to see who) called for a 10 minute break and people could eat, go restroom, do whatever. Some even stayed in the meeting room.

It was completely quiet as heroes were still talking amongst themselves so you struck up a conversation with Damian.

“You come here often gorgeous?” You ask winking.

Damian laughed at that and covered his mouth, then playfully hit you. “Shut up”

You two would often joke about cringe couple actions but admittedly you both liked acting this way with one another.

“Ew get a room” Tim said gagging as he walked past.

Before he could get too far Damian managed to say something, “ stop acting as if you don’t have a boyfriend that drools over u and we have to be the victims to it”

“Whatever!” Was heard in the distance and you and Damian settled down next to each other, then the break ended.

Whoever/ however u had ties with the justice league probably regretted inviting you.

You sitting next to Damian was honestly an eye opener to how bad your flirting could get.

You two were constantly giggling and openly flirting with one another, and honestly you didn’t regret it one bit.

The way he’d laugh and try to stifle his laughter was all worth it.

Soon the conference came to an end and all the heroes went their separate ways.

Well, not before laughing and poking fun at you and Damian for flirting, oblivious to everyone else.

Even the Superman said something, like damn

We’ll soon you decided to just stand on the roof of some random building like the wanna be y/n you are (u actually are y/n-)

The cold weather allowing your breath to be shown. Then you heard a small thump and turned around to face Damian.

“Hey-“

He hugged you and almost threw you off the ledge. “Hahaha what’s the big deal?” You said laughing.

He finally removed his head from where it was neatly tucked away and looked at you. You knew he was saying something but you really couldn’t focus with how beautiful he looked in the moonlight.

He seemed to notice and his eyebrow’s furrowed. “Did you even hear what I said?”

“No” you said admittedly “I was too busy looking at you”

To say his face bursted into flames would be an understatement. Despite the cold weather, his face persevered and heat swallowed him whole.

“Shut up, you’re the pretty one”

Now it was your turn to be shocked “thanks but I’m sure u win over me”

This seemed to upset Damian greatly and he faced you with new found determination.

“ you’re not only handsome but kind, it’s one of the things I admire about you- and have been all evening in case you didn’t notice.”

Wow you really didn’t, I mean sure u offered ur seat, held open doors and even gave snacks to others but- you really couldn’t argue.

You nodded in defeat “ok” and hugged him, which he was more than happy to return.

There u were, you, Damian, under the moon and newly fallen snow.

——————————————————————

Here ya go hope u like 🫶 @wowsnowwhitewell

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marvelstoriesepic · 4 months

Text

Listen to your gut

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky is assigned on a Hydra mission. Letting him venture back in the lion’s den without backup sets a deep unsettling dread knotting your stomach. Drowning out logic and reason you beg him to stay.

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: angst, fluff

author’s note: Soft!Bucky here y’all

Masterlist

Something was wrong.

You knew it the moment you stepped foot in the debriefing room, getting unpleasantly greeted by those red tentacles of the Hydra symbol. A triggering wave of unease washed over you and a chill ran down your spine. The stark contrast of the red tentacles against the whiteboard felt like a sinister omen, a reminder of current dangers.

Technically you were on bed rest due to two broken ribs you received during the last mission you had with Steve, Nat, and Clint. Normally Bucky would join any mission you participated in even if he wasn’t needed but he couldn’t fathom the thought of not being able to protect you and stay in your reach.

Unfortunately though Tony, Banner, and he flew to Wakanda a few days prior due to research purposes on his new arm. Bucky wanted you to join him but since you were leading a training program for the new coming shield agents you were tied to the compound.

Already unpleased Bucky surely wasn’t happy to hear that you and the others got called in last minute and were already on your way to Siberia. He couldn’t get any updates on you the whole day and felt pretty helpless in Wakanda. He knew you were more than capable of holding your own in any situation. Your skills were unparalleled, your determination was unwavering. But despite his confidence in your abilities, he couldn’t shake the gnawing worry that gripped his heart. He loved you. And he worried. And he hated the thought of you being out there fighting the bad guys instead of crunching on chips on the couch, sparring with Nat, or joking with Sam all safe and sound in the compound.

So when Bucky heard of what you injured he was reeling. He couldn’t keep still, asked about updates on you every two minutes, scared a few kids with his glares after not being able to connect and talk to you on the first try and annoyed even Tony, usually immune to Bucky’s intensity, to the point where he was willing to fly back to the compound earlier than wanted.

After being able to communicate, you told him you’d be fine and you’d just be on bed rest for the next two weeks and he should just stay there until everything’s figured out but Bucky wasn’t hearing any of that. He just wanted to get home, hold his girl, and see for himself that you were truly okay.

So here you were, one week later sitting on a chair next to Bucky and looking up to Steve, who started detailing the mission plan, with that looming dread blooming in your stomach, refusing to be ignored.

You knew it wasn’t necessary for you to be here and listen to a mission plan you couldn’t participate in but it included Bucky. Healing took him a lot of time and you all knew he wasn’t completely over it. He never will be. How could anyone blame him? So you weren’t gonna let him sit through this alone to talk and hear about the organization that held him captive so many decades of his life.

Said man was currently sitting next to you, he scooted your chair to knock at his before you even sat on it to have you as near as possible. Your thighs were touching and his hand was linked to yours resting in your lap. Although it should probably be hard for him to sit here and hear Steve talk about those people while seeing them in pictures right beside him, Bucky’s main worry was you.

But you were uncomfortable. Not because of your injuries, you forgot them the second you got here, but because of that pit in your gut that wouldn’t stop increasing.

Bucky's gaze lingered on your profile a little longer the next time he looked at you, a slight crease in his brow. His concern for you was evident in every glance, every reassuring touch, but even his unwavering support couldn’t dispel the growing sense of unease that knotted your stomach. You knew you had no logical reason to feel this way, no tangible evidence of danger, but the nagging voice in the back of your mind refused to be silenced.

His name called by Steve made Bucky's head turn away from you but his grip didn’t falter.

As Steve spoke, his words washing over you like a distant murmur, you found it increasingly difficult to focus. Despite your best efforts, the details of the mission blurred together, overshadowed by the relentless drumbeat of your anxiety.

A squeeze of your hand helped you return your focus and you looked over to Bucky, his concerned gaze already on you. You sat up straighter, squeezed his hand back, and gave him a curt nod and a quick kiss on his cheek. With that, you moved your gaze toward Steve and pretended to listen.

Bucky’s focus was entirely on you still while he moved your joined hands to his mouth and kissed your knuckles affectionately. He was adamant about talking to you now, wanting to chase away whatever shadows were clouding your mind, but he knew this wasn’t the time.

You actually caught a few things here and there about what Bucky's tasks would be on that mission during the rest of the meeting and although it was pretty simple, especially for a 6ft super soldier with a metal arm, your worries didn’t ease. It also didn’t exactly relax you knowing he wouldn’t have any backup.

As the meeting drew to a close, you rose from your seat, your hand still firmly clasped in Buckys. His touch grounded you, anchoring you to the present as you navigated the seemingly endless hallway back to your room. With each step, the weight of your worries grew heavier, your hands trembling with the force of your emotions. Your bottom lip was hurting through the pull your teeth had on it. Bucky didn’t let go of you once. He opted to move his arm around you and pulled you into his side, kissing your head softly every now and then, and didn’t let up until you entered your room.

He closed the door with his foot and turned you to face him, moving his hands up to your face to cup your cheeks and take a better look at you.

“Baby what’s-”

“Don’t go!” you just blurted it out, interrupting him. But you needed to say it.

Bucky blinked, a little flashed at your urgency and the near desperation lacing your features. He swiped his thumbs over your cheeks, lips parted and searching your face. He took a breath but before he was able to utter a word you forestalled him.

“Don’t go on that mission Bucky!” you pleaded, voice wavering. It felt ridiculous and absurd to beg him to stay, to ask him to set aside his duty for the sake of your own fears. Missions were his job after all and you couldn’t explain what you were feeling exactly but just thinking about Bucky venturing into the heart of Hydra once again without any backup knocked your breath away, logic and reason drowned out. You couldn’t bear the idea of him facing such dangers alone, not after all he had been through.

Feeling hot and cold at the same time you felt goose bumps rising on your arms underneath your sweater. You didn’t need to see them to know they were there, desperately holding onto Bucky's wrists, clinging to him as if he were the only anchor keeping you grounded. Nothing you did however shook the feeling that something was wrong, that sending your Bucky into the lion’s den without any backup was a recipe for disaster.

Bucky ran his hand over your hair. He picked up on your elaborate breaths and your heartbeat increased erratically. You couldn’t even feel the normally soothing contrast of flesh and metal on your skin.

“Hey, it’s alright,” he whispered softly and leaned down to press a gentle kiss on your forehead. “I’m here, sweetheart. Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

Your teeth were still grinding on your lip until Bucky lifted his thumb to your chin to get it out of its death grip. He smothered the irritation on your lips with his finger while you avoided looking at him. You didn’t know how to explain your sneaking suspicion, didn’t know how he’d react to you just having some gut feeling. Cause that’s all it was. But if there was something you remembered of your grandmother it was to always listen to your gut sweetheart. It may save lives one day. You kept that in mind, a comforting reminder of the importance of trusting your instincts.

In junior high, you got asked out on a date by some guy a little older than you. You said yes and excitedly dolled yourself up later that day. But before you even got to leave the house, you felt it. A shiver ran down your spine, muscles contorted, and that uncomfortable dread loomed inside your stomach. Your body was basically screaming at you to turn away from the doorknob and not to leave the house. You listened. You sent the guy a quick apology saying something important came up and stayed inside. Up until today, you didn’t know if that suspicion was justified but you didn’t hear anything from that guy again.

Now, faced with a similar feeling of unease, you couldn’t ignore the warning signs that your body was sending you.

Your name being called, uncertain and concerned, cut through the haze of your thoughts. Baby blue eyes reached your vision again, Bucky having tilted your head to meet his gaze. You cleared your throat, a lump burning there.

“Uhm..I,” you took a shaken breath, “I just-” Your brows were furrowed and you closed your eyes for a second to get a hold of yourself and gather your thoughts.

Bucky still ran gentle fingers along your cheekbones, his body pressed against yours with his chest leaning back a bit to see you better. Worry lines creased his forehead, brows pulled together almost painfully and with a look so perturbed and as anxious as you although you hadn’t voiced what was on your apprehensive mind yet.

“I just feel like…” your voice trailed off, words faltering as you struggled to articulate the unease gnawing at you from within. You bit the inside of your cheek, but Bucky's light nod encouraged you to continue despite your doubts. “I just have a bad feeling about all this,”you finally managed to say, the admission leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.

God, how would he think of you? Making such a fuss and worrying him out of his mind to tell him all you had was a bad feeling. You felt ridiculous again, burdening Bucky with your irrational fears when logic dictated otherwise. Letting out a huff at yourself you tried to leave Bucky’s hold, but he wouldn’t budge.

His metal arm wound around your back, pressing you back in his chest, the worry lines on his face might as well be permanent by now. He lifted your chin to meet his eyes. They were still so soft and understanding behind all the agitation. “A bad feeling?” he repeated, his voice gentle and devoid of judgment. All you could hear was his concern for your frenzy state.

Taking a deep breath you looked back at him. “Yeah, I just- I have that kinda gut feeling something’s gonna happen and I...I don’t know I-”

“Hey,” Bucky called again, moving his metal hand up and down your spine. “It’s alright baby. Steve said I probably won’t even have to engage in combat too much. It’s a quick in and out for all of us. It’s not an active base, we’re just there to gather intel.”

“Then they could do this without you.”

Bucky’s patient and understanding expression softened. “Theoretically they could,” he conceded. “But I’m good at going in there baby, don’t worry your pretty little head. And Steve would have sent somebody with me if he thought it wasn’t safe.”

You shook your head, frustration clear to see on your face. He just didn’t get it. And you couldn’t blame him for that. He was still not used to someone worrying about him. He was the last person to worry about himself and it broke your heart the first time you met him as it did now. He didn’t understand that you couldn’t live if something was to happen to him. So if your gut feeling could save his life you sure as hell would make him believe it was worth it.

“Buck!” It came out as a desperate plea, your voice cracking with desperation. Tears welled in your eyes as you clung to him, fists clenched tightly around his shirt “I’m begging you, please don’t go!” Your words were barely above a whisper, but the intensity of your plea spoke volumes.

All you could think about was the thought of losing him, the unbearable pain that would consume you if he were to be harmed. Your fear was raw and unfiltered, laid bare for him to see.

His initial reassurance fell away as he realized the depth of your fear, your vulnerability tearing at his own resolve. “Hey, look at me doll!” He grabbed your face in both hands again, wiping a lone tear away that left your eye. His expression grew painfully serious. “Don’t cry baby, please! It’s alright!”

He leaned down to press his lips to your forehead. More tears slipped past your lashes onto your cheeks and Bucky wiped them away immediately, looking pained himself.

With gentle hands, he kept cradling your face, pressing soft kisses to your forehead, his own eyes betraying the turmoil within him, so he squeezed them shut.

“Don’t go!” you whispered again, closing your eyes. It was all you could say.

He couldn’t bear to see you in such anguish, couldn’t fathom leaving your side when you needed him most. His forehead rested on yours. “I won’t go! Won’t go, baby, I’ll stay here.” He repeated his words as a mantra tugging you in a tightened embrace while whispering promises in your ear, his face in your hair.

Bucky’s heart clenched at the sight of your distress, his own anxiety rising in response to your tears and pleas. Your love for him was a beacon in the darkness of his past, a light that guided him through even the toughest of times. His thoughts often played with him by giving him scenarios of you dying. Of him losing you and what that would mean to his life. Well, he wouldn’t have a life anymore. Facing the possibility that you would feel the same if something were to happen to him was both, a burden and a relief. He felt a sense of helplessness wash over him. You always prided him on being strong, but in that moment, he felt powerless in the face of your fear.

You mourning his loss was a reality he couldn’t bear to contemplate, a future he refused to accept. So he did what he had to. He vowed to stay by your side, to forsake the mission and the risks it entailed in favor of your well-being.

He knew about the gravity of his choice. Steve would have to replan the whole thing, although he might be understanding, but this couldn’t necessarily be said about the other team members. Maybe he’ll be benched on the next few missions. But you finding the courage to confront your fears and laying yourself bare like that to him made him immensely proud. So in that moment, none of the consequences mattered. All that mattered was you, your safety, and the certainty of your love.

His words were a balm to your frazzled nerves, a soothing melody in the chaos of your mind. You clung to him, hands making wrinkles in his shirt, feeling grateful beyond words, and breathed in the comfort of his presence. The storm of your anxiety slowly ebbed away.

In that moment, Bucky made a silent vow to cherish every moment with you, to protect you at all costs, and to never take your love for granted. And as he held you close, he silently prayed that your gut feeling was nothing more than a passing fear, a shadow in the night soon to be dispelled by the light of dawn.

“When something feels off, it is”

- Abraham Hicks

#bucky barnes x reader fluff #soft!bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #soft bucky #bucky x y/n #james buchanan barnes #the avengers #avenger reader #avenger!reader #marvel #marvel bucky barnes #marvel fluff #bucky oneshot

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ch3rry-wink · 4 months

Text

Prom Night (AU)

Pairing: Suguru Getō x f!reader

Summary: After rejecting Getō's invitation to the prom, your refusal turns into a nightmare.

CW: +18, dark content, kidnapping, dub-con, rough sex, creampie, doggy style, choking, handjob, kinda Stockholm syndrome, unprotected sex, fingering, missionary, cum eating, oral sex, kinda fuck or die, coercion

Author's note: inspired by the loved ones. Getō And the reader are in college.

Your friends made an effort to plan that dance. It was just a few weeks before graduation, and their best idea was to mimic the Americans with their high school dances every season. They wanted something very traditional: inviting the person you liked, corsages, choosing the king and queen of the dance, and reviving every Hollywood movie stereotype.

The halls and classrooms filled with cheesy people striving to get a date, including Getō who, with a bouquet of red roses, proposed to be your partner. With a small (and cruel rejection), you let him know that you only saw him as the awkward country boy who helped you with your work. Perhaps you should have been kinder.

The big night had arrived, and you waited for a taxi on the corner in your stunning black dress and heels that hurt your feet. You admitted to yourself that your boyfriend was an idiot for not picking you up. A black car pulled up in front of you, and panic instantly set in as a white-haired man with blue eyes rolled down the passenger window.

"Get in the car," he ordered. You tried to walk away, but other burly men blocked your path. "Get in the car; we have a dance to attend," you obeyed; there wasn't much else to do.

You woke up dizzy and tied to a chair, with electronic music playing in the background and disco lights spinning. When your head stopped spinning, you saw the place completely decorated to simulate the event you were supposed to attend.

"Surprise!" the white-haired man pointed out, and when the other crossed the doorway, you finally understood what was happening.

"You shouldn't have bothered, Satoru," Getō entered, adjusting the buttons of his bespoke tuxedo.

"Just say thank you, Suguru," Satoru adjusted your head and removed the gag. "It's no trouble at all, all for my friend."

"Let me go," tears fell from your eyes, your makeup starting to run, and Satoru dug his nails into your shoulders.

"No, you are the guest of honor," his fingers trailed down your arms to reach the restraints. "You'll give Suguru the perfect night, and I'll consider letting you go, understood?"

"I promise," the restraints softened until you were completely free. You stood up, Satoru wiped your tears, and led you to where Suguru was with a corsage, putting it on your wrist.

"It's very beautiful," you approached Suguru. "And you look very handsome tonight." It wasn't a lie, Suguru was handsome; but his personal style killed all the charm, you were somewhat superficial, and you admitted it.

"You look stunning," your makeup was smudged, and your hair tangled; under different circumstances, you might have believed his compliment.

"We should get a drink," you walked together to the table filled with expensive liquors and fine snacks, Getō poured you a glass of champagne.

"Courtesy of Satoru Gojō," both raised your glasses in a toast, and after a few sips, you threw the liquid in his face and started to run.

"Catch her," you heard Satoru shout to his people as you ran through the door.

"I found her!" someone shouted behind you, and you crawled pathetically on the ground in hopes of escaping; he lifted you and carried you regardless of your injuries.

There was not a soul in sight, only the echo of the menacing steps of the henchmen behind you. The hallways were vast with dozens of closed doors and stairs that seemed to lead to the same place; however, one door stood out, it was large and heavy when moved, a forest was revealed before you. On the uneven ground, you stumbled occasionally, wild animals sounded dangerously close, and after a couple of falls that marked your body with scrapes, you knew you wouldn't go far, but now it was a reality with the flashlight illuminating your face:

"Please let me go," you begged and kicked in vain because in seconds, you were back in the hall with the big blue eyes in front of you.

"I'm not happy, stop mistreating my friend, or I will make these gentlemen mistreat your family," he laughed when your eyes filled with panic. "It's time to dance."

Suguru returned to the hall, some damp spots visible on the fabric of his suit.

"You're back!" he hugged you, dragged you to the dance floor, and started moving to the rhythm of the slow song Gojō had put on.

"Suguru, let me go."

"No, Satoru put a lot of effort into planning this."

"You're insane."

"You humiliated me and took advantage of me." You had been a complete bitch and had never taken the time to thank him for what he had done for you.

"I'm sorry... I..." your apologies and explanations were cut short when Satoru spoke from a microphone.

"It's time to choose the king and queen of the dance." He waved an envelope in the air and then opened it. "Suguru Getō," he read from a little piece of paper. Getō had the crown on his head and waited for you to join him; Satoru said your name and crowned you queen with that small cheap plastic crown.

"We should dance as king and queen," you started to accept your condition, cooperating might get you free sooner. Your arms wrapped around his neck, and his around your waist, your bodies were too close. Suguru's fingers moved delicately down your back. Under the lights and slow music, he kissed you, and you followed, believing that was enough to convince Gojō that the night was perfect (hopefully he would ignore your escape attempt).

"That was wonderful," Getō smiled foolishly, and Gojō appeared behind you.

"That was beautiful," his applause sounded sarcastic.

"I'll get a drink," Getō kissed you on the cheek and then walked away.

"Before your escape attempt, I didn't consider this would be necessary," he handed you a card and waited for you to take it. "I was going to let it go, a moonlight kiss, and you would go home."

"What is this?!"

"It's the suite, you'll take him there and show him how much you love him," he smiled playfully, "And make it seem like your idea," he walked away when he saw Getō returning.

"I brought champagne," you pounced on him, put your mouth close to his ear, and whispered:

"I want us to go somewhere more private," you felt his heart race and his breath catch, he nodded eagerly, and you guided him out of the hall. The footsteps of an escort sounded close by; the whole building was full of them.

The room was beautiful with crystal chandeliers adorning the ceiling, vases full of flowers, elegant furniture, and an immense bed; everything was pure luxury.

Getō put his hand on your waist and turned you to face him, the suit jacket had disappeared, and only the tight white shirt remained. He kissed you passionately as his hands went to the straps of the dress, which fell to the ground in seconds.

His hands slowly went down your torso until they touched the edge of your panties, you felt how they slid down your legs and kicked them aside, Getō kissed you again, your hot body rubbed against the coolness of his clothes and this made your nipples stiffen from the friction.

"I've long dreamed of this moment" he distributed a few kisses on your neck, his fingers reached your pussy he slid them between your folds, a small moan escaped your mouth from the pleasant sensation and without warning you felt him pressing your clitoris, your legs faltered and you held on to his shoulders, while he kept rubbing again and again, unable to give you clarity.

"Suguru," you moaned, and then something landed on you; you felt guilty, you were being unfaithful, you were letting another name come out of your mouth, and yet it felt so good. Perhaps the adrenaline from the danger involved was playing tricks on you.

"Tell me you love me," you shook your head and pulled away from him. Suguru had those same sad eyes as when you rejected him. You knew that if he left this room, Gojō was ready to ruin your life.

"Suguru, I love you," you brought your lips to his and your fingers to the buttons of his shirt, then to his belt and zipper; the pants fell with the metallic noise of the belt.

You were kneeling in front of him, his bulge just growing inside his boxers, you rubbed your hand and with your mouth you gave little kisses over the fabric hoping it would keep growing; your hands ran up his thighs to the waistband of his boxers and slowly pulled them down, his cock gave a little jump and bumped against his abdomen. A small sound of surprise came out of you and followed by biting your lip as panic set in.

One of Getō's hands landed on the back of your head, but you didn't move you just stood there pondering whether or not you could take him in your mouth.

"You don't need to" Suguru spoke calmly and your eyes watched him from below, you opened your mouth and he closed it before you could fit it into his red tip.

"I want to" you said almost pleading.

"We'll have more time" he was convinced you would be one more time with him, after this you never wanted to see him again.

"Let me make you feel good" you put one of your hands on the base of his cock, you squeezed it a little and started to move it up and down, its heat was intense; you gave kisses and licks to its rosy tip. Getō had his eyes closed and some delicate moans escaped from his mouth. You felt something inside him clench seeking his release, you simply pulled away not allowing him to get to that point. You smiled teasingly at him.

"You're cruel," he helped you to stand up and guided you to the bed, sitting you down on the edge and started to unstrap the heels, touching the small bruises and scrapes, "I'm sorry, I didn't want this to happen..." You didn't want him to keep talking, reminding you of what happened tonight; you needed him to be quiet, for all of this to end.

"Suguru, enough," you put your finger on his mouth to silence him, "Just make me feel like in your dreams." His eyes lit up with joy.

Getō's face was between your legs, his tongue was moving in circles over your clit and two of his fingers were moving in and out of your insides; you had underestimated him the gangly country boy knew what to do he wasn't a frigid puritan.

"That's enough" you stood there indignantly in the middle of a high, watching him smirk at you just as you had a while ago; you settled in the middle of the bed with your legs slightly spread in anticipation of Getō.

He landed in the middle, his hands reached your breasts and lightly squeezed your nipples, his mouth landed on one to lick and suck it, you played with his hair and giggled nervously from the pleasure, you accepted that you were enjoying him a lot and the feeling he was giving you.

Suguru pulled you a few inches until you were closer to him, he rubbed his red tip between your folds making sure to brush your clit.

"I love you" he said between heavy breaths and moans, as he slowly pushed himself inside you; stretching you and filling you to perfection. He began to move slow; but hard without much consideration, just watching your face contort into a grimace of pleasure and listening to your moans scraping your throat and echoing around the room.

His hands clung firmly to your hips, imposing the rhythm, exerting absolute control. In that space, he was the one in charge, the one who determined every movement. You, who were the queen bee in public, became a mere plaything here, without any voice or power, and that stimulated you.

Your face was sunk between the pillows and your ass raised in the air, his cock well buried inside you as his balls bounced in your pussy.

"You look pathetic, you're just a slut" your pussy clenched "Maybe I should call Satoru and have him join.... Would you like that?" The very mention of Satoru Gojō terrified you and in a frightened voice you replied:

"No" Getō tugged on your hair pulling you to him, your back was pressed against his torso and his cock kept up that erratic, hard rhythm.

"Why not" His hand went to your neck and squeezed it, you were losing air and you felt suffocated by all the sensations.

"Because I'm only yours" your improvised reply made him relax as did his grip on your neck. The speed and roughness of his lunges slowed, as did the sound of skin against skin. Suguru gifted you with a slow, passionate kiss, accompanied by his fingers touching your clit, your toes curling, your body filled with spasms.

"Come for me" Getō kept burying himself to the hilt inside you, feeling you clench around him and whimper as your orgasm finally came.

He carelessly dropped your body on the bed, continued ramming your over stimulated pussy chasing his own release until he succeeded, his hot seed painted your walls white.

Suguru didn't pull out he continued to fuck his own seed inside you and your own pussy was eager to have him again.

"Open your mouth" Suguru came out of you, he rubbed his thumb on your core and then brought it closer to your mouth, you hesitated to do so; but his pleading eyes motivated you. You savored the mixture of the two of you together and without wasting time he kissed you.

"Suguru... I need you" It was the first time a simple orgasm had made you feel so vulnerable, leaving your body like jelly. You had wasted so much time rejecting Suguru that now you simply didn't want him to separate from you; you wanted him to fuck you every minute.

None of your friends or your boyfriend—ex-boyfriend, actually—understood why that morning you had arrived hand in hand with Suguru Getō. They had all seen you reject him brutally; however, there you were, hugging and exchanging small kisses. You understood it, though, and it wasn't necessary for them to know that in one weekend you had become addicted to his cock or the way he fucked you.

#jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu geto #jujutsu gojo #geto x reader #geto smut #geto suguru #jjk geto #getou suguru x reader #suguru geto smut #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen suguru #suguru geto

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raccoonspooky · 1 year

Text

If the slashers had dating profiles:

Slashers included: Jason Voorhees, Brahms Heelshire, All 3 Sinclair brothers, Bubba Sawyer. Micheal Meyers, Billy Lenz, Leslie Vernon

X Reader format. Gender neutral. Slight nsfw

Jason Voorhees:

The profile has several burry pictures of trees and what you think is some kind of shambly looking cabin. There’s picture of a bee on a weirdly gnarled looking hand with an offputting blueish green color to his skin. You figure that it must be the lighting and there’s nothing to be alarmed with. His profile description is wordless save for a bunch of emojis, trees and flowers and a campfire.

His height is listed as 7’0 so… you swipe right immediately.

Brahms Heelshire:

Theres several pictures of a dapper little doll doing things. Sitting in a chair, playing with blocks… You swipe through them intrigued by the strange little doll and lastly theres mirror selfie of a man holding the doll, the camera flash conceals his face but you’re able to get a nice eyeful of a tempting hairy chest. The doll is creepy but… if that’s his owner, he cant be too bad. Everyone has hobbies!

His height is listed and he’s a respectable 6’4. Under “Hobbies:” he’s written “Dolls.”, and added an emoji of a violin. You’ve always had a weakness for artsy guys. You figure he’s just some hipster. He’s selected various tags to mention he’s a homebody, and he’s looking for a long term relationship, and he’s a homeowner??? You’re sold.

Bo Sinclair:

Pictures of a dirty truck. Several memes about mechanics. You would’ve immediately swiped No, but he’s uploaded quite a few pictures to go through. Amongst the unfunny memegenerator images and past the ones showcasing a dirty old truck, there are several selfies to go through and the guy is just drop dead gorgeous. His jawline could cut butter. He’s got sparkly blue eyes and god damn does he know how to take a proper thirst trap.

There are a number of red flags unfortunately, his description is extremely long and it says nothing about himself besides what you can infer from his LONG list of what he’s looking for in a partner. He wants obedience, a good listener, someone who’s not afraid to get dirty, someone to cook and clean and do his laundry. It all makes your eyes roll. The weirdest part of his profile is that he’s selected that he’s looking for short term things, and that he’s not wanting to be tied down…? Yet he seems to be looking for someone who will just about chew his food for him.

To you, he seems like an overgrown manchild with a pretty face. But… if he’s only looking for fun, you could really do worse when it came to a no strings attached dick appointments. His page says he’s from Louisiana and you wonder what his voice sounds like… As you’re debating whether or not to swipe right, your phone buzzes with a notification that Bo’s superliked your profile.

Vincent Sinclair:

The first image of his profile is purely black and you think that it must be a blank profile. On a whim you read the tags he’s selected, and his interests include several different art mediums. You swipe past the black header image to see several examples of his work, he’s skilled in everything he does and wax figures are a pretty interesting medium. It’s not everyday that you find someone who specializes in working with wax.

His description is blank and he’s not selected anything in terms of what he’s looking for. Even so, you swipe right in hopes you’ll match so you can ask him a load of questions. Mysterious as the profile is, you have to admit that the guy is talented.

Lester Sinclair:

The photos in his profile are a little yikes. Though he’s not holding fish like every other embarrassing profile on this website, there are a number of photos involving dead animals. In one of the photos, the guy is squatting near a bloated gator, pointing and grinning. In another photo, a grimy hand holds a flattened rodent of undeterminable classification.

In the photos with his face, he’s grinning in every one of them. His clothes are kind of grimy and you can assume that he must be some kind of roadkill guy, hopefully as a job rather than as an enthusiast. He’s got such a sunshiney smile and you think he’s cute besides the grime.

The description attached to his profile is just adorable. Everything that he’s selected displays that he’s on this site genuinely because he’s looking for someone to love. Long term or short term, but nothing casual. He’s written that he doesnt have much but he’ll make up for it by ‘Lovin’ ya.” and its just so sweet that youre hitting that superlike button to send him a message immediately.

Micheal Meyers:

Blank profile. No description. No pictures besides a plain black image.

You accidentally swipe right rather than left with a catastrophic finger fumble and you’re surprised that your phone chimes with an immediate match. A moment later, you recieve a message and it’s just one emoji. A knife. Yikes! Blocked!

Despite the block. Your phone chimes with another message and you’re met with a photo. Its blurred for your safety, just in case its an unwanted dick pic. You have to click on the photo and what you’re met with is so, so much worse than the scummiest dick pic. The photo looks like a photo of the outside of your house.

Billy Lenz:

His photos are almost incomprehensibly strange. Everything’s blurry. One of the photos was a blur of movement of which you could vaguely make out a human shaped thing and a single eye. Everything is offputting and strange. The only non blurry picture is (1) single photo of a fluffy white cat.

In his description, theres a very strange paragraph about someone named Agnes, accompanied with baby emojis and then several cat emojis.

At the very end of his paragraph, you see that he’s selected several tags to imply he’s looking for something quick and dirty. The only coherent part of his entire profile is a single, long winded sentence about his apparent desperation to eat pussy.

Bubba Sawyer

Several photos of a chicken. He’s used one of those filter apps to put hearts and other things around the chicken.

Besides chicken pics, there’s a picture what looks to be a windchime made of bones. It’s hung up on a porch, looking out toward a green field with the sun making everything look warm and tinted orange. It’s a nice photo, Bubba seems to have a good attention to detail.

He’s selected no tags to help you determine what he’s looking for. But he’s listed his height and weight. He’s a big… big guy. You swipe right in hopes that you can beg the guy for a face reveal.

Leslie Vernon:

Finally! a guy who shows his face! His profile seems almost meticulously curated. He’s got all the things that would show up if you were to google “How to have the best dating profile.” Theres a photo of him with a dog, a photo of him covered in flour, a photo of him laughing and eating a salad. All the photos seem incredibly staged, which is…. strange.

His description is all about himself. He seems as if he’s been looking for an opportunity to talk about himself and he decided to use a dating website to do it. He mentions that he loves horror movies and that he’s in the “business.” You’re not sure what to make of that. Does he… make…?? horror movies? Does he run a blog or something?

At the end of his very, very long monologue that includes his favorite color and his all time favorite top five movies and music and everything under the sun— he closes his description by saying that he’s looking for his final girl. It’s cheeky and adorably stupid.

Strangeness aside, you love horror movies too, so you’re at least open for a fun discussion about them over drinks or something. He’s pretty much the only guy on this website that seems to know how to use it anyway.

#this is VERY SILLY #Slasher fandom #slasher community #x reader #jason voorhees #Brahms Heelshire #House of wax #Bo Sinclair #Vincent Sinclair #Lester Sinclair #Bubba Sawyer #Micheal Meyers #Billy Lenz #Leslie Vernon

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xodarling · 6 months

Text

My little Bronya. - xodarling

includes: NON-CON, kidnapping, yandere!reader, obsession, stalking, g!p reader, sub!bronya, knife play, cocolia’s alive and well, masturbation, lowercase writing, riding, infantilization kinda, breeding kink, throat fucking, praise, impregnation, virgin!bronya

a/n: bobby’s back 👹 (and worse than b4 sorry if it feels rushed)

“ah.. ah..”

loud squelching sounds bounce off the walls of this dark and dusty basement, there are cobwebs on every corner of the room and the air in the room is heavy, making it feel like you were suffocating every time you inhaled.

those wet, sticky sounds get faster and faster, with each squelch another loud pant vibrates throughout the room. the sound of chair legs scraping the concrete ground are deafening along with the a very specific sound.

click!

small clicking sounds emanating through the room, then it stops and is replaced by a loud groan and even faster squelching.

“bronya.. bronya..”

a shaky voice repeats like a prayer, long shaky groans fill up the emptiness of the room. the dark room being lit up slightly by the brightness of a camera.

the camera roll gives the dark, dusty, and heavy basement some brightness. the basement was mostly empty except for a cork board on one side of the room, all the pictures are of the same person, bronya. the camera isn’t any different, the photos saved in the camera are all bronya.

“fuck!”

the sounds of a loud and desperate yelp, the chair pushed back a little and a loud slam of the wooden table all echo throughout the room.

the camera screen gets dirtied by the thick spurts of cum, the sounds of somebody bucking their hips against the wooden table echos throughout the basement, the sounds of grunts and groans get replaced by pants and sighs.

the sound of a tissue being pulled out the tissue box echo again, some tired pants also vibrate through the dusty walls. soon enough, you gain your senses, looking down at your a softening dick and then at the photo the camera’s showing.

a photo of bronya showering that you somehow managed to get. your dick hardens as you stare at the photo before you let out a groan and then a sigh. you are absolutely delusional and insane, your obsession with the future supreme guardian is getting out of hand.. and jacking off is no longer enough.

it was hard to find bronya alone and vulnerable, but you memorized the entirety of bronya’s home at this point, so sneaking in as she slept wasn’t too hard. you carried her like she was made of porcelain, even leaving soft kisses on her cheeks to indulge in your desires just a small amount.

sneaking past several silvermane guards and random civilians, you made it to your average sized home and went down into the dingy basement; all with bronya in your arms. you made sure to be gentle as you tied her to the chair, not wanting to hurt her yet but making sure it’s tight enough so she can’t get out.

you bring in another chair and shift it to be right in front of bronya, the wooden legs scraping against the concrete. shimmying your sweats down so your dick gets freed from the fabric. all you have to do is wait for her to wake up, best thing to do is sit there and jack off.

her eyelids flutter as her head hangs low, bronya realizes she’s not back home, she’s sitting, tied up, in some dusty gray room. bronya lifts up her head and her eyes widen when she sees you, face all flushed and your dominant hand pumping your shaft.

“good, i was starting to get impatient.” you sit up, the chair pushing back from your action. bronya was about to question but you pulled her head back and placed your swollen tip on her pouty lips, “suck.” you said. bronya hesitated for a moment before starting to leave kitten licks at the head of your dick.

bronya’s a smart girl, as she licked your tip and started to engulf more of your inches, she had an idea to bite your shaft; fortunately, you already predicted she would try something smart like that. you pulled a knife from the pockets in your sweater and placed the blade on her throat.

it all happened so fast. the blade hitting bronya’s neck and you forcefully shoving your dick all the way inside her mouth, causing her to gag with tears brimming her eyes. “bite and i’ll slit your throat.” you say with the angriest tone you can muster, you weren’t actually mad at her.. you were just trying to scare her.

and it worked actually, bronya shut her eyes and just took your fucking of her throat like a good girl. you gripped onto her silver hair and started to quicken your pace, “my little bronya, my baby.”, you whisper as she gags on your shaft, drool dripping down your balls and onto her thighs.

you comb your fingers through her soft bangs, bucking your hips into her mouth. hot tears pile in bronya’s eyes as she keeps them shut to not take in what’s happening, visually, “such a tight throat.” you whisper, pulling your shaft out and lightly slapping her face with it. “what a good girl you are, my little bronya.”

her face scrunches up when you do that. to her, your smell is disgusting, absolutely dreadful. the blade of the knife cuts through each of the ropes that are keeping bronya sat, you pull her up by her arm and then replace her in the wooden seat. your hands find their home on her clothed ass, groping her from above her pajama pants.

“been wanting to do this for so long..” you murmur and lean into rub your nose against her rear. bronya’s body tenses up with disgust as your calloused fingers slip under her pants and pull them down, plain white underwear being exposed. your dominant hand moves to your shaft as you stroke yourself slowly and the other pulls her panties up, exposing more of her soft ass.

your hand snakes it’s way to covered cunt and rubs her slit up and down, even though bronya’s all tense and uncomfy, her panties are dampening with each rub. after a while, you slowly pull down her underwear and push the small of her back to expose her bare cunt to you, dripping and swollen, just like you imagined. you can barely conceal a groan when you see it.

bronya’s heart begins to race even more when you pull her to your lap, your cock resting against her wet slit. your non-dominant hand still holds the knife and you wrap your hands around her waist, kissing the skin below her ear and whispering sweet nothings to her. “my baby, bronya. a baby for my baby..”

bronya can’t even process your words before your tip is slowly pressing inside her, you let out a groan and bronya lets out a strained and stifled whimper. “so much tighter than I thought.” you whisper before moving your hips, your shaft going inch by inch into her walls, your pre-cum oozes out your tip and stains her insides.

bronya lets out winces and whimpers, her walls being stretched beyond their limit, you coo in response whispering sweet praises into her ear while kissing her neck. patience is your strongest virtue and the slow insertion going inch by inch wasn’t cutting, so you grab her hips harshly and forcefully push her down your cock, a sharp shrill leaving her throat.

just a little bit of blood leaves her cunt which makes you groan as it mixes with your pre, you throw the knife in your hand into the middle of the basement and dig your fingers into her hips, leaving her no time to get used to anything and immediately starts to pound away brutally.

“ah-! wait! stop t-this, at o-once!” she yelps out, her fingers dig into the armrests of the dingy, wooden chair, tears begin to brim her silver eyes, the pain and pleasure was overwhelming and unbearable. all you do is moan at her protests, your hips moving at an unreasonable pace.

bronya writhes around in your grasp, her head being thrown back and her nails digging scratching the armchairs, your hands grab the back of her knees and pull her legs up, bronya moans at the new angle of your thrusts. you let out growls and groans, the force of your pounding sending bronya’s upwards a little.

this cowgirl position was boring you. it was fun hearing her bronya whine in protest and squirm on your lap but you need more. you let out a scoff and then sit up from the chair, bronya lets out a confused whine and then a pained one when you reverse your positions, her sitting on the chair with her legs on your shoulders and you standing in front.

there’s no intermission or pause for her to get used to this new position before you return to your animalistic thrusts, with a newfound vigor. “oh, ffucckk..” you throw your head back and groan out with no limitations, her wet, warm walls and her cross-eyed expression send fire into your balls.

your head was clouded with lust and desire, your tip hitting that spongy spot inside her was addicting and your shaft was beginning to tighten, a sign of your impending orgasm. “yeah, gonna fill you up.” you said between chuckles and groans, “gonna fill my baby up, gonna make you all big and round for me..”

bronya shakes her head and lets out a whine. she feels used, like she’s nothing but a hole for you to fuck and breed. just the thought of going back to her mother, if you do let her go, with a round stomach filled with your child made her sob loudly. the pain from your brutal thrusts was intense and the sudden shock of waking up to this left the usual independent and strong bronya weak.

speaking of her mother, the silvermane guards probably noticed that the future supreme guardian was gone. cocolia without a doubt sent all of her men to search for her precious daughter, not knowing what’s happening to her. bronya begins to sob uncontrollably, which only turns you on more.

“keep cryin’ for me, baby, i’m close.” you murmur, biting your lip and watching those diamond tears fall down her elegant face. bronya’s covers her face as her sobs get more violent along with your thrusts, the sound of skin on skin smacking echoes through the basement. everything is just pushing you closer to the edge.

your fingers dig into hips, your eyebrows knitting together, you want this to last forever, it feels so good you don’t want it to end. unfortunately, it does and with one final thrust you let out a loud moan and throw your head back. “fuck, take it, take it all.” you growl, aggressively fucking yourself through your ecstasy.

the girlish and shrill yelp bronya let out when your sperm filled her up was something unheard of to any soul until you, the intense and violent feeling pushed bronya to an unwanted orgasm as well. her legs tremble on your shoulders and her hand fly from her face to the armrests of the chair.

it feels like forever until you stop moving and finally pull out. her body trembles like a leaf and meek whimpers and protests leave her mouth. your eyes trail from her red and teary face, to her heaving chest, to her exposed cunt, watching it drip with your cum made you hard again.

“so perfect.” you murmur, placing your hand on her stomach and rubbing it. “wha-..? stop..” she murmurs, trying to squirm but gives up quickly after seeing your once again hardening cock.

it’ll take a while for the silvermane guards to find you, they won’t suspect some introverted innocent lady to be the one to kidnap the heir of the supreme guardian. so in the mean time.. why not have some more fun?

“let’s hope that they find you soon, my little bronya.” you chuckle and slowly insert yourself back inside her tight cunt, her hands fly to your shoulders and she lets out a whine, feeling her stomach bulge out a little from all the cum and your dick.

all she can do is sob and pray someone hears this, but from what it looks like, it’ll take a while.

THIS IS SO BAD IM SORRRY

#bronya x reader #bronya rand x reader #bronya smut #bronya rand smut #yandere!reader #dom!reader #tw.noncon

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buckysmith · 2 years

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@potatocid

How they react when you die

Warning: Suicide, blood, cancer, angst

Includes: Ghost, Soap, Price, Alejandro and Graves

I hope you’ll enjoy it :D

And I guess I love to write angst

(Sorry I added your request to another story and I dunno how to reverse that)

You don’t need to listen to the songs but I did and I think they fit the vibe

Alejandro:

- He has a lot of enemies and most of the time he can't trust his own military

-He hides you like a diamond so that nobody would ever find you

- You're the love of his life and he wants to live with you till the end of time

- It would be a rainy day and the las Almas cartel would be pretty active so he and his whole team had a lot of work to do

- he would always have his phone with him so you could call him if something were wrong but on this particular day he wouldn't and he forgot it in the base, he noticed it when it was already to late and they couldn't turn around to grab it

- not a single time did you had to call him while he was working, not a single time was there a threat for your safety not a single time in all those years

- but on this day there was a threat

- thanks to the security cams around your ranch you would notice the heavily armed men but you would notice them to late

- You would call Alejandro multiple times while trying to find a way out, but he wouldn't pick up

- you knew you had bo chance on leaving the ranch so you hid yourself good but at some point they would find you

- you would be able to take out three of the men but with a clear shot from the enemy in your shoulder would end killing your enemies pretty quick

- they would want information about Alejandro, about the other save houses and about the base

- you would give them anything, not a single word would leave your lips

- after a few hours of pure pain, you would be on the edge of collapsing while sitting on the chair where they tied you up

- you prayed in all those hours to any god that Alejandro would come and save you

- but he wouldn't

- a female voice would get the last bit of attention you had and with her pushing your chin up you would recognize her pretty fast

- Alejandro's ex wife

- You knew about her and knew how she looked like cause you saw her on a old photo of him with his old team

- she would tease you, telling you that you're not important to him

- she knew which words hurt the most

- before they all leave she would look at you with a sweet smile before stepping a knife into your stomach, telling you to die slowly so he would get the chance to see you die

- you fought, you fought so hard to stay alive for him, but in the end you would fall asleep and never wake up again

- the last thing you heard before leaving this world would be your wedding song that you used as your ring tone

- after he comes back from the mission he would see the missed calls and immediately call you back

- but you wouldn't answer

- while he was away working he had a bad gut feeling but tossed it away, thinking it would be nothing, but know that feeling was away and pure panic crawled through every single fiber of his body

- Never in his life did he drives that fast with his crew in the back, never in his life did he prayed so much and never in his life was he so scared like he was right know

- when he arrived at the first gates he would notice that something was clearly wrong

- at second one he knew someone had gained access

- the moment he's in front of your shared home he would scream your name

- not a single one of his soldiers could hold him back and the moment he steps into the house he would smell iron

- his stomach would drop, he knew that smell way to good

- he would call for you but wouldn't get a answer

- he would follow the smell and would see a light shine trough a half opened door, most likely from a flashlight

- he would slowly open the door hoping not to find what he expected but he did

- before they left you dying they put a flashlight so that it would light your corpse

- you would sit there in your formerly white wedding dress/suit, with a big pool of blood around your feet

- he would run to you, put his hands on your still warm cheeks and lift your head gently

-he would whimper your name, hoping that you would open your eyes that he loves so much and tell him you are fine

- but you wouldn't and he knew that

- he would collapse in front of you screaming your name while he buries his head in his hands smeared with your blood

- he would whine how sorry he is, how much he loves you... he would tell you that you can't leave him, that you can't leave like that

- rodolfo would have to drag him away from you but Alejandro would end up beating the living shit out of him so the others of his team would have to knock him out

- After your death he wouldn't be able to eat or to sleep, he would start drinking and hating himself

- he knows it's his fault, he knows it's his goddamn fault that you died, that you died like that

- the day of your funeral would end him

- he wouldn't be able to have a traditional funeral

- after everyone left the graveyard he would swear to god that he finds every single one that's responsible for your death and after a few years he would make it

- leaving only one person left on his target list

- he would look at his favorite picture of you and would place a soft kiss on the picture where your lips are

- he would whisper how much he loves you and that there's only one bastard left that he has to kill to avenge your death

-"Espero que puedas perdonarme mi amor... nos vemos del otro lado"

- with that he pulls the trigger, killing the last bastard that is responsible for your death.

- they said the only thing that can kill Alejandro is Alejandro, but they were wrong.

- it was your death that killed him, that killed the Alejandro everybody knew, that you loved...

Ghost:

- Ghost isn't the man that shows his feelings but he cares for you deeply

- he loves you more than anything else and he puts you first at everything even though he doesn't say it often

- but because of that he knows he has to keep you safe, somewhere where nobody would ever find you

- the day of your death would begin pretty early

- he would wake you up with light kisses on your neck and soft belly rubs

- He would mumble a good morning and asking you what you want to eat and drink

- he would make you both breakfast and would bring it to you to eat together in bed, just like every Sunday and it was your favorite day just because of it

- the day would continue to be romantic and calm, till you both decided to go to the cinema

- after the movie he would drive you home but something wouldn't feel right

- you would ask him about it and simply tell him that it's because of the movie you just saw

- the movie contained a scene that was very similar to his childhood, which is why you both had to leave the hall for a short time

- but that feeling wouldn't disappear

- he would scan the neighborhood but because you live miles away from the next humans he wouldn't see anything

- you would take his hand the moment you both step out of the car leading him into your shared home

- you would smilie at him before let go of his hand just to step more in the middle of the room

- he would smile at you even though he's still on high alert

- you would ask him how he likes the things you bought for him, staring to undress yourself

- It would be just a blink of a Moment he sees a little green flash

- he would sprint forwards to you, screaming to go down but it would be already to late

- the sound of breaking glass and the impact of a bullet on flesh would echo through your living room

- he would throw you on the floor, close the curtains and look at you worried

- his eyes would wide while you stare into his

- you would look at his eyes, the only emotion that's left his love and a soft smile would appear on your lips

- just a few seconds later your pupils would wide and you would take your last breath

- He would freeze not able to move a single fiber of his body

- But he knew he had to move, he had to do something but he couldn't.

- He just would just grab his phone before he sit himself next to you, pulling you onto his lap and laying a blanket over you to hold you warm…

- he would call price, telling him that he needs help that a sniper attacked before hanging up

- soap, price and gaz would arrive half a hour later, they didn't knew what they would find but they didn't expect what they found

- Ghost had you still on his lap

- in his eyes wouldn't be a emotion, there would be nothing

- Ghost would affect your death more than anything else

- You we're the one that showed him love, that healed him and now you were dead

- and it was his fault

- after your funeral he would go back to work like nothing happened

- but everyone would notice his dark aura

- he may hadn't changed physical but he had changed mentally

- he was dangerous before but after your death he's no human anymore

- even after killing the man that killed you he wouldn't go back to what he once was

- ghost know you would be disappointed in him if he gave up so he continued to fight for you, for what you stand for

- the only thing that makes him human is your picture in his west, he carries it around and nobody is allowed to even look at it

Graves:

- You're the only weakness of Graves

- the scar on his cheek? He was tortured for days and you don't want see the rest of his body

- No matter how much pain he goes through he wouldn't speak, there's nothing that could ever get him to betrayal his country, but you

- Shepherd knows that

- even though graves hid you shepherd would find out that graves is in a relationship with you

- after the missiles went missing graves told you to leave the us as soon as possible, to bring you somewhere safe but it would be to late

- you would drive to the airport when a black suv would knock you into a ditch

- Shepherd knows that without you he can't control Graves, so he would kidnapp you

- he would send graves a video of you, tied up to a chair with duck tape on your mouth and the newspaper on your thigh

- he would threaten to kill you if graves doesn't do what he wants

- Weeks over weeks would past and you seemed to get weaker but no matter what he tried he couldn't find you and when shepherd noticed that Graves tried to find you he send him a video of you getting tortured

- You didn't know how long it was since they kidnapped you but you knew you were getting weaker, only getting enough water and food to barley survive

- you begged for them to give you at least more water cause you knew you weren't the only one that was held hostage

- you were pregnant with graves baby

- The last command shepherd gave Graves was to kill 141 and los vaqueros to get you back and he tried, but after soap and Rodolfo attacked him in the tank it was the moment he realized he wouldn't get you back, at least not when he's dead

- He would gave up, he knew he had no chance to get you back without the help of 141 so he would ask soap to have mercy and to let him explain

- of course they hate Graves and at first they wouldn't believe him, but after he showed them the pics and the video of you they would

- they wouldn't help him, they would help you.

- He tried to contact shepherd to tell him that he killed them all(he did not) but that bastard wouldn't answer

- With the help of 141, laswell and a bunch of other people he would find out where they held you hostage

- he was the first one that entered the building, searching for you

- it would be ghost that finds you

- he would tell graves where to find you

- Graves would be there in seconds, but the moment he enters the room and the nasty smell of iron hits his nostrils he would stop

- that moment would burn it into his head

- seeing you sitting there, with a bullet hole in your stomach and a pool of blood around your feet

- he would whisper your name before running to your corps and kneeling in front of it

- he would touch your ice cold cheek biting his lips while tears would well up in his eyes

- he would lay his forehead against your knees, not caring about the blood nor the smell

- he would start to scream, before he starts to cry and whine

- they would have to drag him away after a hour

- He would just sit wherever they sat him, not moving a single muscle

- He had lost you, he had lost the love of his life, he had lost his child, he had lost everything.

- He wouldn't eat anything for days, just drinking whiskey and planning your funeral

- your funeral was just as beautiful as you were when you lived

- After your funeral he wouldn't leave the graveyard, he wouldn't leave it the whole night and just sit there, looking at the stone with one of your favorite photos of yourself engraved.

- he would tell you how much he loves you and how sorry he is

- After a few days he would leave you but before that he would pay a florist to put your favorite flowers on your graves every week

- he would hunt shepherd down and after he killed him he would return to you, he would tell you that he avenged your death but would collapse the moment he said the words

- his body would simply give up, months of alcohol abuse, a few hours of sleep and no food would end there

- He wouldn't die there, he would die a few months later in combat

- He didn't want to end it by himself, he knew you would be disappointed in him so he chooses that as his dead

- he couldn't live without you, so he didn't.

Price:

- He knew his job is dangerous and that you’re in danger too because of it

- he had you somewhere safe, deep into the woods where nobody would find you

- everytime he went home he had a stomach bug, something bothered him and he didn’t know what it could be

- He knew you wouldn’t cheat on him or betray him in any kind so that’s something he can rule out

- he would notice a few changes

- you seemed to get weaker

- he knew you had headaches at least once a day but it seems to get worse

- he would take you to the doctors, telling them to examine you

- at first they would tell him that there’s nothing, that you’re good in health and stuff like that

- but he knew something is wrong so he would tell them to search again, to search more accurate like their live depended on it

- After a few days in the hospital they would find something

- They would tell you both to sit down

- You both knew that conversation wouldn’t end well but listen to the docs

- they found something, well they found something really bad

- they found out you had brain cancer

- You both would be shocked but they would tell you that there’s hope to cure you

- month would pass and the Chemotherapy wouldn’t work

- you had lost all your hair thanks to the therapy and he had shaved his too to show you his support besides being with you

- but the cancer would spread, really fast and aggressive

- he always though he would leave you behind but now it’s seemed you were the one that leaves first

- over the month you got weaker and the only thing that was left from you was your humor and your love for him

- sometimes you couldn’t remember much but no matter how much you could remember you knew that this man in front of you is your lover

- You knew you were gonna die, he knew that too and when the day came he lay besides you

- you mumbled that you loved him, how sorry you were to cause him so much pain but he would shush you

- he would tell you how much he loves you and that he didn’t regret in loving you and that he wouldn’t change to date you if he could

- he asked you if you remembered the day you married, the slow dance under an old willow tree. He would tell you that you would someday dance with him like that again

- it would be the last thing you hear and while you cuddled with him you would peacefully pass

- he would notice that you stopped breathing

- at first he would whisper your name then he would look at you before closing his eyes

- he knew you had passed in his arms but he couldn’t bring himself to ring the bell to alarm a nurse

- so he would continue to cuddle with you till he’s able to ring the bell

- after the nurses took you with them they would ask him when you passed

- he would tell them the time, before sitting himself in the chair that stand besides your bed for the last month, that he had slept in, that he cried in with you on his lap and now, now it was besides the little table and a wardrobe the only furniture left in the room.

- you had planned your own funeral and didn’t want him to do anything, it should be a surprise for him and it was.

- not only was your funeral just like you, no, you had recorded a video of you being just you and saying the people you loved goodbye

- after the funeral Someone of your family/friends would go to him, giving him a USB telling him to watch it when he’s ready

- you had recorded many videos with you telling him how much you loved him or that he deserved to live again, that you wished that he finds happiness again, that he finds someone again that loves him so much like you did

- that would break his heart, how was he supposed to love again? You were his true love and nobody would ever be like you, and he didn’t want someone besides you

- After all those month he would go back to his job

- In his hat there’s a picture of you

- but years later he would find himself laying on the ground, a huge bullet hole in his chest

- that would be the moment he hears your voice

- he would turn his head to where he had heard your voice and there you were

- you were alive, no, not just that. You were healthy and you were waiting for him under the willow tree you married

- you would open your arms and he would stand up to get to you, just to wrap his arms around you, kissing you like the first time

- this time you would ask him for a dance

- He hadn’t lost his life on this mission, leaving ghost soap and gaz behind. No, he had gained his life cause you were back and this time nothing could separate you again….

Soap:

- He knew how dangerous it was for you to be with him, he told you that multiple times

- but you didn’t care, you cared about him, about your love for him

- he knew that you trusted him more than anything else

- it was cold in Scotland and he never saw s much snow in all those years than he did this year

- you loved the snow even though it was cold, wet and you always got a cold after playing in it

- he was on his way home when he contacted you, telling you that he would be with you in less than 8 hours and that you wouldn’t need to cook anything and just to dress you nice

- he arrived in less than 6

- the moment he sees you he would run to you, warping his arms around you and kissing you all over your face

- He would ask you if you want to come with him, smiling like a sun

- It happend when he drove

- it would be very snowy and because of the darkness around he would drive very carefully not wanting to make a crash

- then it happened, a truck driver came out of nowhere and didn’t saw the Jeep with you both in it

- he took the right of way and due to his increased speed, he would have had no chance of braking before he hit you

- soap was conscious for a few more seconds, mumbling your name and trying to reach your hand but passed out before he reached you

- he would be woken up by an annoying beeping sound

- the first thing he knew that every single bone and fiber in his body hurt like a bitch

- but just Seconds after he woke up he would look around searching for you but only seeing ghost or this time Simon sitting on a chair

- Simon would wake up immediately and look at his friend

- Simon would call for a nurse to get rid of the breathing tube

- the moment soap is able to ask where you are he does it

- but the look on Simons face would say more than any word on this planet ever could

- soaps voice would die while asking if you’re… dead

- but Simon knows that he tried to say and would simply nod

- It would be Simon that tells John what happened to both of you

- he would tell John about the truck driver that not only took the right of way from Soap and drove way to fast, no, that driver was drunk and stoned.

- he didn’t even notice that he had hit you and just continue to drive till his truck died a few miles away from the crash

- it was Simon, Price and Gaz that searched for the both of you and found you an hour later in a ditch

- The were all in Scotland cause Soap wanted to propose to you and he wanted his friends to take a part in it

- Soap would ask Simon to take him to you, to have a last look at you but Simon would have to tell him that it’s impossible

- Soap wouldn’t quite understand, how wasn’t he able to see you? Till the moment Simon says that he was in a coma for a bit over two month and on the edge of dying it heart would break again

- you were already burried while he was in a coma

- your family had waited as long as they could to have a chance that he would wake up, but he didn’t and the doctors weren’t even sure if he would wake up ever again

- A few days later he would be released against the advice of the doctors

- He would withdraw completely and the only reason he left the house would be to visit your grave

-Your family would provide him with food and water

- he never said it out load but he wished he had died too and not only you

- it would be Simon that takes him back to the military

- he knew soap would only destroy himself if he wouldn’t get any help

- soap would never get over your dead

- he would wear the ring he wanted to give you for the purpose as a necklace to have something from you forever

- he wouldn’t never love anyone ever again, with the lose of you he would lose the ability to love again

- the day he returns to you, you would greet him with open arms and a big smilie one your lips

- He missed you so much and you did too

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8siangemini · 1 year

Text

If I Killed Someone For You (Spider-Man!Earth42 Miles Morales x Prowler!Reader)

Summary: You made your first kill as the Prowler and you could not believe yourself and what you had become. The friendly neighborhood Spider-Man finds you at the scene which breaks out in a fight and identities being revealed.

Word Count: 2.4k

WARNINGS: Kinda gorey and also kinda angsty

Author’s Note: Thank yall so much on the love and support from my last post!! I am so happy so many people are enjoying my writing so here’s so moreeee

“I don’t have it!” The man you were assigned to tortured yelled out.

Your work as the Prowler was…violent and not your first choice of occupation. But when Miles’ dad died and money started to get tight for your boyfriend’s family you knew that if you began to pick up jobs with his Uncle Aaron you would be able to get some money for them. You did not care for the money for yourself, yeah you would buy yourself some nice things every now and then but it was usually a matching pair of Jordan’s with Miles. Most of the money is held by Uncle Aaron and given to Rio so that Rio would not have to worry about where the money is coming from since it is coming from an adult in their family.

“What do you mean you don’t have it?” You say through the voice filter.

The man in front of you tied to the chair in an abandoned building had a beef with your employer. This man was said that he cheated your buyer in a game of poker, over $100,000. Your employer wanted you to either get the money back or see his name on the news. Most of your clients are like that, when they want someone killed they either can have them killed or be tortured until they offer to give you something more valuable that you can give your client. On all occasions your missions always resulted in the victim being tortured to the point they offer something. But this time it was different.

This man had nothing to offer. No money. You knew you had to kill someone sooner or later in this work of field but you did not it would be this soon. You are only a teenager, you had a future ahead of you, you did not want to kill someone so soon. But if you did not then you would be cut from this, that would mean Miles could possibly get this job instead of you. Uncle Aaron always talked about that if you were not up for the job he can always give the alias to Miles. But you knew Miles was a bright kid, you did not want him to get roped into this. He had a bright future ahead of him and you could not let his future be ruined by this sort of work.

“I already spent all the money.” The man said tiredly. He had multiple cuts and bruises including a black eye on his face due to the forces of your ‘light’ punches. “I gambled it all away too.” The man said through breaths.

Your mask was cold, acted as a shield. But underneath you were terrified. Your eyes widened and your breath quickened but quiet enough that the voice filter did not pick it up. Your employer wanted the money or his name on the new by tonight or else you are out, and Miles would be in. You did not want this future for Miles and you promised yourself that you would prevent Miles from getting close to this occupation. You would rather your future be ruined rather than Miles. That is the whole reason why you have this job in order to give them money without them knowing.

Without saying anything, in one quick swing from your right hand that had the claw on it, the man’s head was blown off of his head. His blood painted the walls and his body fell limp into the metal chair. You had killed a man with your own hands, you had ended his life and took his future away. You killed someone’s son, their boy. You knew nothing of this man but you killed someone that somebody loved.

You were immediately disgusted with yourself, your whole body felt dirty like you wanted to wash your skin so badly until the dirt of the kill came off of your body. You knew if you were not careful with your alibis from here on out you would be guilty of murder. You kneeled down in front of the body looking down at his feet not wanting to look up at the blood dripping down his chest from his shreded neck. Your hands were held together, like you were asking for forgiveness. Your mask was your shield but underneath the mask tears started to drip down from your eyes.

“I am sorry.” You say to the man that had already passed away.

You heard a small kick of a rock from behind you and quickly turned your head. There stood the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man standing about 10 feet away from you in the abandoned building. You quickly got to your feet and sped towards Spider-Man, trying to land a hit on him as he kept ducking and dodging and stepping backwards.

“Hey, hey!” He tried to speak as you and him kept trying to land a hit on each other. “I don’t know what you did but I am going to have to turn you…” He started until he looked over at what you were kneeling before, the dead man.

You finally pinned him against a wall and he looked down at you and then at the man you killed and then back at you. Even though you were crying underneath your mask you still had to fight for your life. He kept on pushing against your forearms as he tried his hardest to get out of your pin.

“You killed him?” He asked and no answer came from you. “You’re no older than me.” He spoke softly.

Your words were choked up in your throat like a bubble. It was true, based on Spider-Man’s strength, built, and height, there was no way that he could be older than 16. You were now a teenager that killed someone with their own hands. You wanted to speak and you needed to. You knew you could not have any witnesses but you also knew that you could not kill another person tonight, especially Spider-Man.

“You know nothing.” You said through your voice filter. You finally land a punch on him with your left hand and held his face with your clawed hand.

You were bluffing, you knew that. You could crush his skull with a single squeeze right now, you could kill Spider-Man but it was true, he was only a teenager. You knew that as much as you could intimidate him that your whole act was a bluff. You could not carry the baggage of killing two people in one night, especially killing a hero and a teenager that has parents that probably love him to death. So instead you let go of his face and sharply press his shoulder into the wall.

“You are going to go to the police,” You instructed him. “and tell them you found this body but did not see who did it. I don’t care what your alibi is, this,” You say as you point between him and you. “did not happen. You got it?”

Before he could respond you punch him in the jaw with your left hand, knocking him out cold. You let his body drop down to the floor as it layed limp against the concrete wall. You stare down at him, staring at his mask. Then you realize that this was your moment, you could figure out this masked hero’s identity. You could end your and Uncle Aaron’s endless search for Spider-Man. Even though your humanity could not kill him now you can later. But would you want to kill a teenager? He did say that he may be a little older than you, probably by a couple of months.

You bend down to him as his chin rests against his chest. You begin to lift his mask gently over his chin. The mask lifts up past his mouth and nose, dark skinned with plump lips and a wide nose. Your heart drops, already recognizing who it is. Those lips, it is the same lips that you kiss, that nose is the same nose you give a peck on before you go to class. You take a deep breath right before you see his eyes and surely enough it is him, Miles, laying peacefully with a couple bruises on his face. You quickly pull down his mask, not wanting to accept the truth that the Spider-Man that you and Uncle Aaron had been tracking down is none other than your boyfriend, his nephew.

You begin to stand up and head towards the door until you look over your shoulder and see Miles still passed out against the wall. You could not just leave him there, what if something happens to him. Plus you did this to him, the least you could do was get him cleaned up and take care of him.

You quickly fling his arms over your shoulder and you pick up his legs so that you are carrying him on your back as you make your way towards the back to where your bike is parked out at. Once you get to your bike you carefully place both of you guys on the bike, positioning both of his arms so that they are underneath your arms. You double check and make sure that his feet are properly positioned and for extra measure you pull out an extra leather jacket from one of your compartments and place it on Miles, pulling the hood over his head so no one would notice it is Spider-Man on your bike with you.

---

You make it to the back of his apartment building and park your bike in the alleyway. You grab your duffle bag and placed it over your shoulderr as Miles laid on your back. You use one of your grappling guns and aim it to hook onto Miles’ level. The string recoils and you make it to the top as you carefully sneak through his window and place him on the bed. You let out a loud sigh, relieved that he is finally off of your back.

You began taking off your helmet which folded up into a compact case and placed it inside of your duffle bag. You let out a deep breath and wiped your face with your hands to get rid of the dried tears and sweat. You began to pull off your claw as gears and pannels began to shift and the purple glow from the inside began to fade away once it was on your hand. You place it inside of your duffle and slid off your back gear and jacket and folded everything up nicely into your bag. You began taking off your shirt with the Prowler symbol on it leaving you in your sweatpants and black sports bra.

You grabbed your phone from inside of the bag and unlocked it and saw a notification from Uncle Aaron.

“I guess you did it sooner than later.” Was typed on the screen with a screenshot from the news.

The text was sent only a couple of minutes ago and the screenshot showed the yellow tape around the abandoned building, not completely showing the dead man you had killed. The news of your employer’s man was finally on the news, there is no going back from this.

“Yeah. I’m at Miles’ right now I’m probably gonna spend the night.” You text back trying to keep the details to a minimum.

“Aye, what the hell are you doing in my room?” Miles said outloud in confusion and shock. He began to look at his body seeing that he was still in his suit and still had his mask on. He kept on trying to piece together missing pieces of information on what happened, how you knew who he was, enough to bring him home to his room.

You look over your shoulder as you put on your extra plain black shirt and looked at him in sadness. You knew he was going to be disappointed in what you have gotten yourself into and soon a couple tears fell from your eyes.

“Are you ok?” Miles says as he tried to change his voice, trying to keep his identity a secret.

“I already know Miles.” You get straight to the point.

He pulls off his mask and his two braids fall from the mask. You wish you could deny it but you know you could not, especially with the solid evidence in front of you that your boyfriend was really Spider-Man. Of all faces you never imagined that the face underneath the mask was that of the person you loved most and wanted to protect the most.

“What happened, mami?” He asked as he got closer to you and you turned your body towards him.

You turned your head towards the duffle bag and opened it up to show him what is inside. Your claw, shirt, back gear, and jacket laid inside of it. He looked down at it confused at first until he began putting the pieces together. His eyes widened the slightest bit as he looked down at you. His eyes soon softened remembering his last memory and what had happened.

He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you in, your face nuzzling into his chest. You wrapped your arms around his waist and floods of tears began to fall from your eyes. He rubbed his hand over your back as he placed kisses on the top of your head.

“I-I was a-assigned a guy-” You kept breaking between your words with hiccups and tears. “And u-usally they have the t-thing that I-I am a-assigned t-to get but t-this g-g-guy didn’t have it so I had to-” You could not finish but you did not need to. Miles understood as he kept on rubbing your back and kissing your head.

“A-and,” You start again, wanting to come clean. “f-for the past couple mo-months m-my employer and I have been trying t-to track down y-you.” You say, keeping Uncle Aaron being your boss a secret. “I am so sorry Miles for not telling you Miles. M-my work is confidential I-I couldn’t-”

“Yet you dropped me off at my place mi amor.” Miles spoke up. You withdrew from his chest and looked up at him and he looked down at you, staring into your eyes.

“What?” You asked as he began wiping away your tears with his thumbs.

“Mi amor, you found out my identity and you are the Prowler. You could have killed me, left me there, or leave me in an alleyway somewhere for someone to kill me.” Miles began to explain as he held your face in his hands. “But you saved me and brought me home safely. Even though you are on duty and shouldn’t show mercy to anyone you broke that code so that you knew I got home safely. I do not care that you did not tell me, the fact that you put your work and life on the line in order to keep me safe is more than enough explanation to know I can still trust you.”

If you were not crying before you were definately crying now. His words touched you as he continued wiping your tears away from your face. You loved him before, you love him now, and you will love him in the future. He did not care about what you become, he will only care about him and your connection between you two. He did not think you were a monster like what you thought you were, he still saw you as you, as his amor.

You place your hands around his neck and stare into his eyes. You love this man.

“Can you promise me something?” You ask him and he nods. “Promise me that if I do not mess with you directly, then you won’t rat me out?” You say with an awkward smile until he chuckles a little.

“Por supuesto, mami.” (Of course, mami.) He replies and you two smile at each other as your foreheads press against each other and bask in each other’s pressence and embrace.

#earth 42 miles morales #miles morales #miles morales x reader #miles morales x y/n #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman spoilers #spider man #spiderman #the prowler

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thatgirlstrawberry · 1 year

Note

See this?

That’s the look of pure horror, when his girlfriend’s father aka Aaron Hotchner storms into the working space the chief landed them (just imagine they are on a case somewhere far away) and LITERALLY seething and *angry vocalising* his disagreement with theirs relationship, because Spencer’s 5-10 (just age gap idc) older (reader’s over 18 for dear life) and she just started working there (7months). Derek has to physically restrain him from hurting his not so soon son in law. He calms down soon enough to get to work, but they’ll have a big talk about it, including Rossi. Cuz this man can’t hold a secret for dear life. I can imagine the ANGRY FACE Hotch does 🤬🤯 when he finds out about it. Also can you make it a lil bit longer with spice? Like after the big disapproving talk with Hotch, that they freely have a long hot makeout sesh, not worried about her dad finding out about them. In their apartment, where he’s sitting with his back to the headboard, hands tightly squeezing her hips while she’s whining on his lap.

I Hope this text above was coherent enough for you to consider making something with it. I hope that both sides of your pillow are cold. Ily<3

YESSS OMG

Not-so-happy Hotch

In which Hotch finds out that Spencer and Y/N have been seeing each other and is not happy about it

Warnings: angst, angry angry Hotch, spoilers from season 5, age gap (9 years), reader is 18+, heavy making out near the end + grinding kinda, sadness a lil bit, fluff, lmk if I missed anything!

Spencer Reid x fem!hotch!reader

Y/N sat on her bed alone, in the hotel room. The team were in Massachusetts investigating the murders of a variety of women. It was her third case. She’d only been there for about 7 months.

She’d been dating Spencer for 4.

The day she walked into the BAU in her little white blouse and tight black jeans, Spencer had his eyes on her. Not just because of her body but because of her bright personality. He couldn’t believe how wonderful she was even after what she went through.

He obviously knew her before she started on the job, she was Hotch’s daughter. She first fell for him when she was 18. The day Haley died. She was with Jack and her in the house. Foyet had tied her to a chair and had her watch him kill Haley.

It messed her up. It made her want to stop people who did the same to other people and their families. She had originally wanted to be a teacher but everything she saw that day changed her entire life.

Spencer was the one to untie her because her father moved right past her, putting a finger to his lips with his gun raised in the other direction.

Y/N felt her mother’s blood splatter all over her face and clothes as Foyet shot her in the head. She squeezed her eyes shut and let a muffled scream out over the gag he had tied around her head. The sound of Haley’s body hitting the floor made her flinch.

She didn’t dare open her eyes but she could tell Foyet moved closer to her. “I’m gonna go find that little brother of yours and you can watch me kill him too.”

And he moved her mother’s body.

Y/N cried and didn’t open her eyes until she knew he was out of the room. She tried so desperately to get the cloth out of her mouth but nothing worked.

Moments later, her dad appeared. She widened her eyes and whined. He let a tear slip from his eye and pressed his finger against his lips.

He moved past her and looked forward, making sure that his gun was pointed forward. Then all the noises from fighting and gunshots were heard.

She let out more screams hearing her father fight for his life. It was almost like she couldn’t breathe., she was screaming so hard.

Then she heard them tumbling down the stairs. Punch after punch.

“Reid, get her out of here!” She heard the voice of her uncle Derek Morgan behind her.

Suddenly, Spencer Reid appeared in front of her, making sure not scare her. “You’re okay. You’re okay, look at me, Y/N.” Spencer rushed as his hands tore at the knots around her hands and feet.

She looked into his eyes trying to stop the tears. When her hands were untied she reached up and tore the cloth from her mouth. When her feet were untied, Spencer wrapped his arms around and pulled her up from the chair.

She buried her head into his shoulder trying to contain her sobs as he carried her out of the house. “Is my Dad okay!?” She asked when he set her down on the ground. “Is he dead too— what about Jack— where is Jack!?”

Spencer shook his head and watched her eyes dart around. Her chest heaved but she was barely taking in any air. “Y/N, stop. Look at me, please.” Truth was, he didn’t know if Hotch was dead or alive.

The woman stopped looking everywhere else and settled on his eyes. “Take a deep breath in.” He held her hands tightly in his. He watched her body shake as she did what she was told. “Now let it out.” She nodded and squeezed his hands a let her deep breath out through her rounded lips. “Good. Keep breathing just like that.”

Y/N had always had a little girl crush on her father’s coworker. He was cute and awkward and had a nice smile. So, when she started working there, she was able to get to know him better.

“Everyone, meet our new liaison, Y/N Hotchner.” Garcia squealed and clapped, Morgan smiled and went in for a hug and Spencer stood back with his hands in his pockets with a small smile on his face.

Hotch turned to the rest of the team. “She’ll start out as a liaison but we’re working to get up to profiling level. She is a part of this team just like all of you.”

Days after that, past her mother’s funeral, she left town. She went to college, pretty much reset her entire life. One day, after all her classes she went to get coffee. All by herself. She didn’t have many friends anyway.

While she sat by the window with a book and her coffee, someone familiar walked in. She didn’t see him at first but when she heard his voice across the shop, she looked up. “Spencer?” She called.

He turned around and was pleasantly surprised. “Y/N!” He raised his brows. “What— how—“ he paused. “Hi, how are you?”

She pressed her lips together. He had the same look on his face that everyone did when they asked her that question. Pity. “Y’know, I’m okay.” She shrugged.

Spencer nodded. “G-good.” Y/N took the pause to look at him. His hair was longer, stubble was grown out, he was really fucking pretty.

She inhaled deeply, a wave of confidence washing over her. “Can I… buy you a coffee?”

Spencer tilted his head with a smile. “No.” He shook his head. Y/N visibly deflated. “I-I already bought one.” He leaned in a bit closer. “You can buy me a chocolate donut with sprinkles though.”

She scoffed jokingly. “Wow. Begging a broke college student for food.” She rolled her eyes with a teasing smile, pulling her wallet from her back pocket and walking up to the counter. Spencer blew a raspberry and followed behind her.

In her hotel room, Y/N pulled her knees up to her chest waiting for his knock at her hotel door. Her heart always raced when she realized that they could be caught by her father. But she loved Spencer and she fully believed that nothing could stop her from seeing him. She knew her dad would probably have a big problem with it. Y/N was now 24 and Spencer was almost 33. She knew also that he didn’t want her dating anyone for that matter.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

She smiled and bit her lip, climbing out of the bed. She walked to the door and opened it. “Yes?” She raised her eyebrows, trying to keep her composure as Spencer stood there with a small smirk and a small pink box in his hands.

“I have a delivery for a Ms. Y/N? Is she here?” Spencer asked, his eyes gliding down her body.

She shrugged and leaned against the doorframe. “Depends. What’s in the box and what do I owe my amazing delivery man?”

Spencer stepped forward a bit. “There’s a donut in the box. And you owe me a few kisses as the delivery fee.” He smiled, his eyes were soft— puppy dog like.

She bit her lip. “Well in that case…” She pulled him into to room by his tie and shut the door quietly.

Unbeknownst to both of them, Hotch was standing at the end of the hall watching this.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Y/N was outside talking to a few news reporters who were asking questions. Her dad and Derek went to check out the latest crime scene. When she saw the SUV roll back into the parking lot of the station where base of operations was set up.

She nodded at a man with a microphone who had asked her a question. “Everyone should stay inside, lock all doors and windows. Don’t answer the door after 7. Be safe and if you know anything, call the number on the screen.”

She walked away towards the SUB and furrowed her eyebrows when Hotch got out of the car hurriedly.

“Hotch— wait! Hotch, you gotta cool down!” She heard Derek’s voice from the other side.

She furrowed her brows and tilted her head to the side. “Dad, what’s wrong-“ He pushed past her and walked towards doors of the station.

Derek rushed past her too. “What the hell?” She whispered, following them.

“Hotch, just give the kid a damn second!” Derek called after him.

Their voice disappeared as they entered the station. Y/N’s eyes widened when she realized “the kid” was Spencer.

Inside, Spencer was drawing lines across the map of Massachusetts where the murders happened when he heard Derek yelling. Luckily, the place was clear of cops because they were in a small town and all eight cops were assigned to keep watch of a few people.

“Spencer Reid, get your ass here right now!” His voice boomed and all of the blood seemed to drain from his face. He whipped his head around in shock and turned away from the board nervously. “Mind telling me why I saw you go into my daughter’s room last night?” He asked, his hands placed on his hips.

Y/N walked up beside Morgan who had the bridge of his nose pinched between his fingers. Her eyes desperately tried to connect to her boyfriend’s but the poor man was so scared he didn’t look anywhere but at Hotch. “I-I…uh…”

Hotch walked forward closer to him a little too quickly for Derek, Spencer and Y/N’s comfort. “You better give me a real good excuse and o don’t wanna hear what I’m thinking.” He shook his head, his voice low and intimidating.

Spencer didn’t say anything so Hotch all but lunged forward and Derek reached and grabbed his arms, pulling him back.

“Dad, stop!” Y/N cried.

Derek pulled him back more. “Come on, Hotch. Take a breath.”

“Let me go, Morgan.” He shook his head and shut his eyes.

The man shook his head too. “Not unless you can truthfully promise me that you won’t hit the kid.” He paused for a moment and when he didn’t get an answer, nodded. “Guess I’m not lettin’ you go then.”

Rossi walked into the building with JJ and Prentiss behind him, all of their faces contorting in confusion. “What the hell is this?” The man asked, holding his hands out.

Hotch didn’t spare a glance at them. “Reid’s messing around with my daughter.” He said.

Spencer shook his head. “I-I’m not messing around with her, I love her!” He blurted. The room was silent and it seemed to make Hotch even more mad.

He turned, ripping himself away from Morgan, pointing at his daughter. “Outside. Now.” He walked past her and towards the doors, pushing Rossi’s hand away when he tried to reach for his shoulder.

Y/N looked around at everyone, holding eye contact a little longer with Spencer before sighing and turning to leave the station.

When she got outside, her father was there with his arms crossed and a stone angry look on his face.

“Dad—“

“You are not to see him in a romantic way ever. Or I will fire you from this job.” He saw how her eyes softened and tears filled them.

She shook her head. “Do you think— I mea do you think I’m just messing around, dad?”

“Yes, I do. Y/N, It’s wreckless and unprofessional.” He nodded.

Y/N squinted. “You think so little of me? That I would let him play me like some game?”

“You are a child, Y/N—“

“I am a grown ass woman and I’ll see whoever I want to see.” She stopped him.

“He’s almost 10 years older than you!” Hotch scoffed.

She groaned and covered her face. “We are both mature adults. I don’t think it’s that much of a problem, dad.”

He stopped moving and looked at her. “I mean It, Y/N. Stop seeing him or I will fire you.”

Y/N have him a challenging look. “Do you want my badge now, then?” She raised her eyebrows and stuck her hand on her hip.

Hotch seethed. His daughter was just like him and it sucked.

“Get back to work for now but it’s mine when we get back to Quantico, understand?”

She shook her head with a roll of her eyes and pushed past him.

“And I don’t want you near him either!”

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Case closed. And now they were on the way back. The entire jet was uncomfortably silent.

Y/N didn’t show it on the way back but she didn’t think that her father was bluffing anymore. They landed on the air strip and when everyone was off, her eyes filled with tears.

It was only her and her father left. She pulled her badge from her coat pocket and walked up to him, holding it out.

He looked at the badge for a moment and then at her. He sighed heavily and turned away from her, exiting the jet.

She raced after him. “So, what— you’re not firing me?” She called. He stopped and turned to her.

“Get Spencer and meet me in my office.”

He left her there, a billion possibilities racing through her head. Would he fire Spencer instead? Would he fire both of them?

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

“Spence!” Y/N whisper shouted as she walked behind him.

He flinched and turned. “H-hi.” He nodded. He hadn’t spoken to her since the day Hotch almost beat him up.

“Uh… my dad wants us in his office.” She nodded.

He nodded and visibly grew nervous. “I- okay.”

Y/N stopped him from walking and tilted her head. “Spencer, wait.” He looked down at her. “Don’t be… scared. I won’t let him do anything. And he won’t fire you. You’re too good at this.” She smiled, placing her hand in his.

He opened his mouth but then closed it before deciding that he was going to say something. “I-is there any way we can hold hands until we get to Hotch’s office?”

She tilted her head to the side and didn’t respond, she only squeezed his hand tighter.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Y/N, for Spencer’s safety not for her comfort, net go of him when they reached her father’s office. And she walked in first. Spencer followed behind her, his nervous stare causing him to move quicker and knock over a file that was on the little table near the door.

Y/N saw Rossi standing in the corner. She furrowed her brows and tilted her head.

She looked back at Spencer before looking at her dad who still looked very angry. They stood side by side and in silence until Hotch spoke.

“Sit.” He pointed at the two chairs in front of the desk. Spencer almost immediately fell into the chair, Y/N slowly sat down in the other one.

They were enveloped in silence once again. Hotch sighed and looked down at his desk. “Listen,” He started. Y/N bit her lip. “I do not approve of your… relationship in any way.” He shook his head. “But, I can’t afford to lose either of you. This job needs you.”

Rossi shook his head. “This team needs you.” He crossed his arms.

Spencer and Y/N looked at each other. “I think your relationship is premature, unprofessional. I expect you to at least think about a break up for the good of the team.” He nodded. Y/N looked down at her lap. “Y/N, you may go.”

“But-“

“Now, Y/N.”

She looked at Rossi who nodded his head comfortingly, telling her silently that Reid would be okay.

She got up from the chair and took one last look at her boyfriend before leaving.

She decided she would go home because there was no way her father’s little talk wouldn’t take more than and hour.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Y/N paced in her kitchen, worried for her boyfriend’s well being. She hadn’t heard from him in two hours.

She had changed from her work clothes into a shirt that belonged to Spencer and a pair of pajama pants. She had also cooked because she knew Spencer would not have eaten between the time he left the BAU and when he got to her apartment.

She heard the familiar knocks at her door and rushed to it. She flung it open and there stood her boyfriend who looked sad. Y/N pulled him inside and wrapped her arms around him wordlessly. He leaned down to bury his head in the crook of her neck.

“Are you hungry?” She whispered, her nails lightly gliding over his upper back. He shook his head. “Do you want to go talk?”

He nodded and she pulled away from him, keeping her hand in his. She walked with him to her bedroom.

He climbed up on the bed first, his back pressing against the headboard. Y/N began to sit down next to him but he pulled her over his lap, hands settling on her thighs. “Spence…” She brushed a piece of hair out of his face.

“He Uh…” He cleared his throat. “He told me that he wanted me to break up with you. And then when I told him that I couldn’t do that, he told me not to hurt you or he would ruin my life.”

Y/N tilted her head to the side and rubbed his cheek bones with her thumbs. “I know you’d never hurt me Spence.” She shook her head.

He smiled and leaned in a bit. She kissed his lips slowly. “I don’t care that he doesn’t want us to be together.” She shook her head.

“Me either.” He nodded, trying to catch her lips again. She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck, his hands found her hips.

Their kiss deepened and his hands guided her body back and forth over his lap. A little noise came up from her throat and she accidentally bit his lip. She pulled away when he hissed and giggled quietly. “I’m sorry, baby.”

He let out a deep chuckle, squeezing her hips. “Bite me as much as you want. You know I love your mouth.” He whispered in her ear seductively. Y/N’s eyes all but rolled into the back of her head.

She whined and leaned back in, his tongue entering her mouth almost immediately. She absolutely loved his kisses. He always tasted like peppermints and chocolate.

His hands moved her back and forth again, she tried to ignore the feeling of his hardness underneath her. She moaned into his mouth, her fingers tugging at the hair on the nape of his neck.

Desperation to just be close to each other enveloped them. When they broke away for just a second, his name left her mouth breathlessly. It wasn’t to get his attention, it was to tell him that she was scared. She had been scared of losing him.

They felt closer than ever before, both of them on fire for the other. They had no care I. The world of who approved of them or not.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Helloooooo i hope you enjoyed this! If it’s not how you expected I will happily rewrite it to the best of my ability!

I tried to add some flashback scenes to make it longer. Also, I made Hotch really mean bc I didn’t know how else to write him but I love him so much!!

Thank you for requesting @thbidkbutok !!! Luv you babes!

Also, feel free to request anything you want! In my ask box or private message!

Oop i forgot the Taglist lol

Taglist: @mrsgweasley

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#spencer reid #spencer fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x original female character #criminal minds #spencer x oc #spencer x reader #aaron hotchner

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