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iceunhie · 3 months

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— out of this world (and into another) : genshin impact

premise: you could've sworn the transmigration curse didn't have an effect on you... so what exactly are you doing here?! (alternatively, you tumble straight into your favorite video game; and you're kinda fucked)

...or, a genshin manhwa otome game inspired au.

act i: scaramouche, alhaitham, wriothesley.

↳ act ii: lyney, neuvilette, kazuha, kaeya. (next)

warnings. fem!reader but can be imagined as genderless if u'd like hehe, a shit ton of manhwa tropes in one, this is a hot mess aka not proofread all that much, half clunky half decent writing

a/n: as promised via the poll heh,, while i do plan to make this an actual au, im not that sure ^^; just the tip of the iceberg here tho!!

MAIN MASTERLIST | AU MASTERLIST (coming soon)

YOU — unsuspecting civilian turnt transmigrator

you've always been too attached to fictional characters for your own good.

yes, even the ones that are remarkably irredeemable (the power of a backstory is very formidable) and complex (complexity is a virtue!)

villains have always been destined to die, be cursed, or destined to curse others. it was heartbreaking, really. you've wished for a chance to rewrite their fates for them to find even a sliver of happiness, even when the fate of their plot says otherwise.

which is why when you find yourself awake into the game of your dreams, “Teyvat's Seven Stars”, like any lover of cliche novel and manhwa tropes, this is the time you think that maybe life wasn't so shitty on you.

....there's only one tiny, teensy, itty bitty problem here, actually.

you're not the protagonist. you're not even one of the protagonist's faithful friends and underlings that light protagonist's road to conquering the world and its men (and as of the 4.0 update, it's women); no, you're none of those.

you're a no name extra, and not to mention, a character involved with the game's main villain characters who are coincidentally the love interests of the game's black route!

[ unlock transmigration package: ultimate transmigrator's route ( ????? MODE ) ]

[ no ] [ yes ]

( 国崩 ) SCARAMOUCHE — the tyrant

“as of today, you will be engaged to crown prince kunikuzushi, who is her grace the shogun's rightful heir to the throne.”

when given approval to stare at your so-called soon to be husband, you expect the worst, mostly. the multitudes of character dialogue you've played through detailing his rather discourteous personality (which basically meant he was a huge asshole) don't exactly paint a pretty picture.

however...

who was this tender hearted looking scaramouche that ‘obliterated armies in the blink of an eye?’ the t in tyrant stands for tyrannical, not timid!

eyes like lighting framed by the longest eyelashes you've ever seen and an unfairly pretty face, comparable to a fair lotus. after fawning over his otherworldly countenance, a sinking realization of dread pools in your stomach.

oh, you are so screwed.

essentially tied to the indigo-haired ticking time bomb of a future tyrant due to the strong standing of your family for a period of until the main story starts, you're destined to never get crown prince scaramouche's affection, being his fiancée who scaramouche is arranged to for political means only.

not to mention, you're in an even more deadly position; of all the characters you switched souls with, it's the one that essentially dies by their own fiancé's hand because they were horrible to him! what atrocious luck!

frantic, you wrack up about three ways to survive.

plan a) win over the shogun's favor by being an appropriate partner unlike the original flavor of this body, who resorted to bullying the innocent prince and unknowingly digging their own grave or b) be a guiding friend to scaramouche as he learns the ways of the world and c) make sure you don't end up giving the protagonist a bad ending via his twisted personality.

weighing all these options, you decide to do all three in hopes to cement a life instead of a deathflag. prevention is better than the cure (aka: the protagonist) after all!

(you may also just want to spend time with your favorite character. having a time limit and a sign that says ‘i'll die in the future!’ should at least warrant you extra time to show some affection to scaramouche, at least.)

so, you do what anyone in your position would do: give affection! lots of it.

admittedly, it wasn't all flowers and rainbows. scaramouche—ahem, kunikuzushi—was very shy and reserved indeed, with his mother ei even worse off! (besides, who trains and studies all day and has to stop crying every time they were injured?! that was just too much!)

it was rather hard at first, the frigid atmosphere of the usually silent Tenshukaku Palace almost impossible to permeate. but with your amazing charm (read: deathflag radar) and social skills, you manage to let the members of the Royal family open up to you.

speaking words of praise in ei's cooking (a very difficult feat to accomplish), spending afternoons with your fiancé and teaching him ‘how to be a shoujo worthy male lead, name-version’ (very confusing to explain), and the cherry on top, driving away that vile teacher of his—the Doctor—once word got out that he'd been taking advantage of scaramouche as a political puppet king in the future. trauma enabler destroyed! look at your immeasurable powers!

(“you're not a failure.” clasping kunikuzushi's hands in yours as he reels back from you. damn that doctor.

his tears shot a wave of heartache through you. you can't bear to see your favorite in such suffering. “whatever happens in the future, i won't abandon you.

no matter what, i'll always be on your side, okay?”

kunikuzushi looks at you with something in his eyes—something like adoration. “do you promise that?”

“yeah.” you say without hesitation, the glow of the sunlight hitting your face so dazzlingly that kunikuzushi's eyes widen that his mouth hangs agape in awe. “i promise, kuni.”)

to your greatest delight, your efforts worked in your favor.

ei now spends time with her son, and though it's almost always just a tad bit awkward, you and the guuji yae miko get the two to strike up conversation, and overtime, kunikuzushi becomes more open to you.

(“[name], what kind of man is your type?”

“huh? well...” you think for a while. this was a great opportunity to say it, right? that life changing protagonist quote!

“to me, the only person i'll ever like the most is you, kunikuzushi.”

“do you really, really mean that?” and oh, he looks so cute—flustered and red from your words. worth it.

“yup! now, i made some shimi chazuke, try some—”)

(admittedly, lots of favoritism is involved.)

—and while you reap the fruits of your hard work, you spend warm, sunlit afternoons with ei at tea, even learning about other nations from scaramouche's aunt nahida and even befriended a few of his future affiliates—childe (though for some reason, kunikuzushi always pulls you away from him whenever he spots the two of you together), signora (she tolerates you, you think) and etcetera.

(“then, if i do well, can you kiss me on the cheek, [name]?”

you agree, much to his delight. scaramouche avoids the gaze of a certain pink haired fox eyeing him questionably. unbeknownst to you, he glares at the woman's scrutiny.)

unprecedented things unrelated to the plot happen too; like how your family, which basically only saw you as a political bargaining chip and an unwanted child they could get rid of easily—no longer sent you any demeaning letters demanding money once scaramouche found out....

(“they've been leeching off of you for how long?” so scary... is this was kunikuzushi is like when he's worried?)

(“...kunikuzushi, how long will you keep up that weak-hearted facade of yours? if they find out how.... dishonest you are....”

“i don't need the reminders of a foxy old hag that doesn't know her place. this is fine as it is.”)

(you don't need to know.)

but, you're nothing compared to the inevitable flow of the plot. inazuma is wracked with war, and it just so happened that you'd been unceremoniously kidnapped by a certain resistance leader's trusted general, used as a hostage bargain for approximately the majority of your life. in the worst moments in your dreary cell, there's only one thought in your mind.

....kunikuzushi's face, devastated when he tries to reach for you, before slipping away from him like sand— face morphing into an unbridled state of rage that's too natural, too familiar. when did he learn to make a face like that?

(they say the kingdom was wracked with thunderstorms all night that day.)

afterwards, fate doesn't make it kind for you.

years go by in the blink of an eye, with your capture fervently forgotten in the midst of the growing animosity of the two conflicting forces.

although you did hear that yae sent out a search party for you while at the resistance's base, the shogun's forces never reached you.

eventually, you got released secretly by sympathy of kokomi, the leader of the resistance, who felt pity for you getting caught in the crossfire. letting you go under the condition that you'd likely never meet any of the precious characters you've gotten to know and change was a heavy price to pay, but you didn't have any choice.

indeed, no matter how much you tried to divert the plot, your duty as an extra has ended, and you were even lucky to even be alive. you could only hope that your fiancé—ex-fiancé—took note of your lessons well, bidding farewell to inazuma as you hop on the boat to mondsdat.

by now, you at least hoped that scaramouche and the protagonist met, his true chance at happiness starting now that you were basically dead.

(even if your heart felt like breaking into a million pieces.)

....is what you thought would happen, but why is it that after three years from your supposed capture, inazuma was still at war?

“that crazy prince... he's still working to find his former fiancée... and he's razing almost every village apart looking for them!”

“—didn't the shogunate say that whoever finds her would receive almost 3 million mora?”

“the entire lot of them are lunatics, i tell you. all because of a missing person, too!”

what's more, why was it still going because of you?!

( 艾尔海森 ) AL-HAITHAM: the information guild master

to be fair, normal people don't really run into one of their favorite characters often after transmigrating.

but to be fair, again, you certainly didn't think you'd actually be in your favorite video game franchise caged in bed with essentially one of its main love interests.

eyes wide and unceremoniously looking—definitely not ogling— at the toned body that's currently enveloping you in its arms, the soft tuft of ashy gray hair caressing the crook of your neck, murmuring incoherent mumbles of—is that another language?

???????

you blink, looking down at the bare body currently embracing you. oh. oh.

you're an extra.

you're just an extra, but why are you in bed, currently being served breakfast by the most gorgeous man you've ever laid your eyes on, with a pretty view of the rainforests' canopy?

“you should lie down. if i recall, sufficient sleep is required in order for the human body to perform its basic bodily functions. although our partnership is temporary, to let you fall to harm is a situation i'd like to avoid as much as possible.”

“....what?”

“...?”

the guild master, al-haitham, is a character in Teyvat's Seven Stars that is heavily debated on whether he's technically a villain or not. in the game, he's the right hand of sumeru's leader, nahida, working as the overseer of the AKASHA, a guild that gathers information to the nation's leader. he's a pretty shady character—always working behind the scenes and very unfalteringly blunt—and a ‘villain’ for crown prince scaramouche's route, helping the protagonist escape his clutches.

he's often the subject of comedic ire, his banters with a certain broke architect always the highlight of any bonafide al-haitham fan.

“we're expected to work together by lord kusanali's decree in the duration of investigating the hivemind project the lord suspects the baron siraj is partaking in.”

right, that one scene in the game where al-haitham needed to go undercover to infiltrate a coup de etat staged by one of the factions against nahida... right... what.

you were that extra! the one that fell in love with him and pined for his affection!

(“well, i get that part, but does sleeping together really have to play a part in this...?”

al-haitham gives you a mere quirk of the lip, tilting his head. “we do have to play the part of a married couple in dire straights, do we not? this cover is more efficient.

...besides, i don't have anything to complain about. you're certainly better company than kaveh.” )

in truth, al-haitham wasn't bad company. far from it. aside from the internal giggling and fangirling (you) and the incredible stack of books (alhaitham) that you have to see more than the grey haired man on a daily basis, the two of you work out a rapport that stems from memories of the body you transmigrated in.

he's nice to be around, surprisingly considerate when he wants to be—he tells you about the books he always reads....

(who even reads ‘20 Tongues Language Memorization Guidebook: A Basic Overview of Vocabulary and Terms’ for enjoyment?

the content makes your head run in circles because of how complicated it is; but who wouldn't like to listen to an extremely attractive man overexplain to you with a calm and pretty voice?)

...is generous enough to provide meals and cook dinners that have you crying tears of gratitude because you know how awful yours compares (it was either too bland or too seasoned; al-haitham is surprisingly picky when he wants to be)

(you assigned al-haitham the title of “absolute s-tier husband material”— his capabilities are out of this world!)

by chance, you once gave al-haitham a little tidbit of information that proved to be valuable later in the investigation—courtesy of your avid game knowledge—when you two had been lost to the psychological illusion magic cast by siraj when you two finally broke in his estate.

(“whatever happens, if siraj messes with your mind, just make sure to think of me instead of anything else.” al-haitham lets his hand find yours.

“you once asked me if i trusted you, [name].”

“....” you're treated to one of al-haitham's rare smiles, one that warms you up from within. “i do. so don't let yourself get hurt.”)

however, your temporary partner had faltered for once, flinching when siraj took the form of his old grandmother who'd passed to exploit al-haitham's mind, hesitating and frozen in place while siraj inched ever closer to finding out his weakness.

and you couldn't stand it, the character you cared for—the al-haitham that always had a plan, always knew how to stay calm, had looked so unsure and hopeless.

(“wake up, al-haitham!”

with you cradling his face, al-haitham stares back at the only constant in the memories of his grief, eyes meeting yours. “you don't have to do it all alone. i'm right here, aren't i? believe in me.”)

your (fake) husband snaps back to reality, finally allowing enough time to apprehend siraj and put a stop to his malicious project.

(“thank you.” al-haitham tells you solemnly. it hits you that this may be the last time you may ever see him. “i'm grateful that you brought me back to y— to my senses.”

there's a sincerity in your voice that rings from your heart. “anytime, al-haitham.”)

you thought that was the end of it.

defeating siraj meant you two no longer had to associate with each other, but somehow, to your great surprise, al-haitham doesn't stick to the plot at all. you were sure you didn't interfere with the game, though?

for some reason, al-haitham doesn't erase himself from your life, unlike the original route's flow.

in fact, he's become... easy to run into, a constant in your otherwise mundane life. he takes you out to lambad's tavern for an occasional drink, says he's lending you his headphones when you find yourself overwhelmed by the city (you were never good with noises) and even helps you out as you vent your problems to him.

(the day after, said problem conveniently disappears. how strange....)

and most of all, allowing you to enter his personal space... leaving kaveh's jaw dropping when he accuses al-haitham of having a lover.

“you're always going who knows where with them! what else is there to figure out?”

“...we are merely friends.”

“a friend that you let into your personal library? do they know that you still keep the ‘fake’ ring in a box inside the closet?” kaveh laughs. “nice try, al-haitham.”

(after all, kaveh could never unsee the way al-haitham's eyes softened at the feeling of the head on his shoulder lean onto him, with you no doubt asleep. he even took his headphones off! kaveh has never seen him actually take them off in order to keep the person who's sleeping on his shoulder as undisturbed as possible.

in fact, kaveh doesn't think he's ever seen al-haitham be this touchy or considerate with anyone this much before.

.....and most importantly, kaveh would never forget the way al-haitham, a man who found no merit in politeness and preferred bluntness, a man who preferred solitude rather than company—deliberately getting close to someone—pressing a fleeting kiss on the crown of your head.

kaveh blinks. it seems even the throes of love can reach even the most unconquerable of peaks....)

( 莱��斯利 ) WRIOTHESLEY — the monster duke of the north

“—i need you to gather information on duke wriothesley. serve him undercover as one of the prisoners of the fortress.”

the duke of meropide—a man swamped with terrible rumors. they say he was exiled from the nation due to murdering his entire family. they say he possessed a face worthy of the title of a beast— grotesque, littered in scars. they say that any who end up in his estate, the iron prison of the north, meropide, never saw the light of day again.

(“only criminals of the worst kind are fated to be sentenced there. nobody returns, so we've stopped questioning it...” )

so to say you're not fearing for your life that bad right now is a massive understatement.

“now, mind telling me how you were able to sneak into the most impenetrable prison in all the land, miss prisoner?”

how did it end up like this?

so you wake up and find yourself in jail. lovely.

seriously, of all the places you can transmigrate into, why did it have to be fontaine?! Teyvat's Seven Stars chapter 4's main starting point, the nation of justice is littered with dark themes and high difficulty capture targets.

.... such is the case with the man in front of you. unlike what the rumors of him say, duke wriothesley paints a rugged yet dashing picture of a nobleman, even if he was —if you recall— one of the hardest capture targets to conquer in the game.

a villain character who you played once during one game route, acting as the driving force during one of the love events of one of the protagonist's other love interest, lyney. duke wriothesley almost assassinates lyney's younger brother, freminent, leading lyney to rally up a certain group to bring the nobleman down.... a typical side character villain, who's existence was added as late as 3 patches away from lyney's.

(even inazuma would be better than this! at least the tyrant route could be avoided, and let's not mention the easy sumeru route as well...)

“well, miss prisoner, cat got your tongue?”

in summary: fortunately for you, the body you transmigrated is in the position to spy on the current affairs of the fortress of meropide, with courtesy and with permission of one of Fontaine's leaders, neuvillette. unfortunately for you, it seems our dear monsieur wasn't able to inform wriothesley beforehand, leading to the current situation.

aka, you're pressed dangerously close to wriothesley's chest, with a knife at his throat and his hands pinning you against the wall, noses almost touching. you're not sure if this is even the kind of tension that two people who are trying to kill each other are supposed to have...

(“i'm an ally!” you sputter out. wriothesley raises an eyebrow at you. “monsieur neuvillette sent me.”

“how am i supposed to trust you after i saw you slinking around here, knife at my throat?” he replies, eyes narrowing. “i know that i'm labelled as a beast, but i don't really know what came over that pretty little head of yours when trying to sneak into my chambers.”

what does he take you for?! “...are you accusing me of something indecent?!”

“just saying — i've met lots of prisoners with your excuse, my lady.”

“i'm prepared to use this knife, you know.”

“hah.” wriothesley grins. “how aggressive. more aggressive than most. do you want me that bad?”

“stop twisting my words!”)

in any case, you hate wriothesley. you know he's one of the characters in Teyvat's Seven Stars and is a villain for one of the easy love interest routes in the game, but his personality is... a real piece of work.

you'd rather the protective and kind kazuha, or even the charming and elusive lyney! why did it have to be him?

not only did he not believe you, he even told you to prove your authenticity! you're just glad that his assistant sigewinne had been there to vouch for you — you're not sure if you'd even be on your two feet right now if she didn't.

so now you're stuck constantly on your feet, running to and fro — helping the dark-haired man record new prisoners, establishing trading routes to the main city of Fontaine, and treating other prisoners of the fortress with sigewinne.

your biggest surprise by far, though, is just how... different the duke is from the rumors. his scars were merely battle scars of honor (to which sigewinne rolls her eyes, “your grace, please stop trying to look cool”) he got from various succession fights, not scars to show how he was cursed to turn into a beast. he has a love for tea, but always seems to have a cup of your favorite blend with him when you feel tired after a long day of working (laboring) for him and the estate.

(“your daily report of new convicts, your grace.”

“-this is the tea you like, your grace. i've prepared it in advance.”

“you're very adamant on proving yourself. aren't you sick of such tasks by now, miss prisoner?”

“no.” wriothesley's expression screams 'why not?' on it. “ it's because of my own misjudgement of you.”

“...elaborate.”

“i may have had unnecessary prejudices on your conduct thus far. but you're... not like what the rumors paint you out to be.” you say sincerely. “you're more amazing and incredible than anyone else. i truly do admire you.”

wriothesley's expression; you couldn't decipher it. “i see.”)

he's battered, but caring. sigewinne makes you watch (in horror) as she doodles cartoonish looking characters on his face when he's asleep — wriothesley never fusses, only an exasperated sigh to his assistant. he's harsh with his tasks and duties, but is the first to rush you into sigewinne's infirmary to tend to you after you pass out from overwork.

(“don't worry, [name]. the duke may not look it, but he's very gentle!” sigewinne giggles. humoring the little girl who was the first to show you actual decency in this place, you try to nod. sigewinne doesn't seem convinced.

“i'm serious! after all, compared to other people who've snuck into the fortress, you're the first he's treated this way.” she says cheerily.

“what does that mean?” you can't help but scoff at that. “so he just works someone to the bone from the get go?” you shudder. damn production zone...

sigewinne blinks. “ oh no, not like that. it's just that he's never been so lenient before. in fact, when you fainted, he even gave me the order to prioritize treating you over anything else.”)

well, this wasn't exactly what you thought you would be doing when you transmigrated into your favorite game, but you suppose you can take it.

besides, you'd miss a certain duke otherwise. life truly is full of strange twists....

a/n: thank you for making it this far! if anyone asks why wriothesley's was short, listen, this was completely impulsive and i was out of inspiration LOL, but i do hope you enjoy! look forward to new parts though hehe :3

@ ICEUNHIE: do not repost translate or plagiarize my works.

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spaghettiposts · 6 months

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Window Crashin’

WandaNat x Spidey!Reader

Summery: Crashing into the wrong window at night proves to be the best mistake you’ve ever made.

Warnings: Very OBLIVIOUS reader, straight up stupid I can’t lie. Gay panics all around. Fluff

Word count: 1.6k

A/n: my first time officially writing for Nat and I think I’d like to continue so expect separate fics of her sometime soon.

Kraven had become an incessant thorn in your side, his relentless rampage ever since he announced “The Grand Hunt” in the heart of Central Park felt like a never-ending nightmare. One that persistently dragged on as the weeks floated by, each day a new form of tinnitus growing in your eardrums at the echoings of his horn. Falling once again into his endless game of cat and mouse.

Or in your case Kraven and Spider–with Kraven playing predator and you, the elusive Spider, trying to lure him away from innocent civilians roaming the streets of New York.

Which wasn’t as easy as one would imagine, but you made do with what you had, brains over brawns. Clinging onto the hope that eventually, Kraven would grow tired of chasing and resign for the night, with the promise that he’d return. And so the cycle goes on.

There were other options you could resort to, but those were last resorts, ones you only used if you were certain you couldn’t handle Kraven or in case of an emergency. In all honesty, you’re avoiding involving the Avengers, it’s really the last thing you want this to come to. A couple of broken ribs wasn’t an Avengers level threat.

You could handle Kraven by yourself perfectly fine, and nobody got hurt at the end of the day—except mainly your sleep schedule.

And now, as you swung through the thick chilling air on route to the compound; you were struggling to stay awake, the bruises littered across your body only making it harder to keep swinging. It wasn’t that sleep had ever been your strong suit, but now, it seemed like a distant luxury. The sacrifice of a hero came in many forms, and sleep deprivation was yours.

Tony had sacrificed half his company in pursuit of a heroic lifestyle, hell, even Steve froze himself to save humanity. If humanity needed you to suffer from fewer hours in bed, then so be it.

You fought relentlessly to keep your eyes from drooping and it only took the honking of a truck for you to jolt awake, merely missing out on the experience of being rammed by one.

Shaking your head, you muttered words of encouragement to yourself, living on a prayer of making it back to the compound - in one piece.

As the familiar building came into view, you let out a breath of relief you didn’t know you were holding. Taking a moment to gather yourself, you swung around towards the left block and homed in on your window, only to face-plant straight into it with a resounding thud.

You groaned against the pavement, pressing your hands on the wall to steady yourself before you could slide off. Silently thanking that radioactive spider for granting you the ability to stick to surfaces as you adjusted yourself, what the fuck?

A miscalculation on your part—or at least you pictured. Pushing yourself back from the wall, your eyebrows crinkled. Huh.

You always left your window open–had one of your teammates closed it off?

Assuming one of the guys must’ve closed it off, you didn’t question much, missing your bed and running on pure exhaustion to really assess the situation seriously. Gripping the sides of the window, you tried to pry from the outside, and after a couple of difficulties; you managed to unlock it, budging it open with a click.

Finally, home sweet home.

Your body toppled into the room first before the rest of your body crashed onto the floor, reaching an arm to shut the window behind you. With a sigh of relief, you picked yourself up, stretching your arms above your head, eliciting a satisfying ‘pop’ from your back, feeling all the pent-up tensions of the day leave your body.

Pressing the button on your chest, making quick work of discarding your suit. You struggled more than you’d like to admit, having to hop on one foot to wiggle your feet out of the padding.

Amidst your squirming, you failed to notice the crimson warps seeping from your bed, freezing mid-movement as the lights flickered on by themselves, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You screeched, scrambling up to your feet, firmly clutching your uniform in a poor attempt to cover yourself from the two women on your bed, equally startled.

“Y/n…? What are you doing here?” Natasha says after a beat of silence, her eyes furrowing as she lowers her gun and the arm protectively wrapped around her girlfriend. Wanda mirrored her actions and let the red wisps fall before she turned to you disconcertingly.

You shrunk under their gaze, feeling your heart pick up. It was too late to salvage any attempts at running for it, so you turned away, ignoring how affected you felt by their disheveled appearances.

Instead, you focused on why they were inside your room in the first place. Not that you minded having two beautiful women in your bed but at this hour?

“What are you doing in my room? I just got back, what’s…” Your voice trailed off, slipping on your suit, as you looked towards your dresser…was it always that color? And why was there a photo of Wanda and Natasha on your nightstand? Sure, you were hopelessly in love with the two but never to this extent.

Barely bordering on those lines.

“Detka…this is our room,” Wanda said slowly, as to not startle you.

You cursed under your breath, realizing your mistake. “Aw fuck, I must’ve crashed into the wrong—wall-side thing,” you explained messily, picking yourself up for what felt like the hundredth time tonight.

“Crashed?” Both of the girls shouted and you winced, scooting off awkwardly to the side, feeling even more like an intrusion.

“Yeah but it’s okay though, that’s nothing compared to Kraven's fists, trust me.” You meant to reassure them, but judging by the worried looks they exchanged, it had the opposite effect. Taking their silence as an opportunity to leave, you stepped back.

“Anyways, sorry for interrupting your night.” You mumbled apologetically, reaching for the window handle. “I’ll see y'all tomorrow— son of a bitch.” You grunted, banging your head against the glass for the second time this night. You were really starting to resent these things.

And Wanda bit her bottom lip, “Malysh, it’s late and you’re…not doing well, why don’t you stay here tonight?” She suggested softly, her voice coming out as sweet as honey and you almost dropped dead there.

“Here?” You blurted out, feeling a mixture of surprise and uncertainty. “Like, with you and Nat?”

Natasha and Wanda shared an amused look, before nodding in unison.

Your face crinkled, not really understanding what the looks were for but you assumed it was all in your head. Sparing one last glance at the two, you confirmed this was okay, searching for even the smallest bits of hesitancy or discomfort only to find nothing but welcoming smiles.

With a small nod, barely audible, you murmured a hesitant “alright,” as you settled into the chair beside their bed, placing your feet on the small wooly ottoman.

Had your eyes been open, you might’ve noticed the way their faces dropped in disappointment. After months of obvious pining, not-so-subtle flirting thrown your way, you were choosing to sleep…not with them but on a chair.

A brief silence lingered, and you shifted in your seat. Even with your eyes closed, you could feel their eyes piercing and you were starting to sweat.

“Sorry,” You mumble, heat rising up your neck in embarrassment as you removed your feet off the ottoman, fearing you had overstepped. Still, their gazes remained unwavering and you rubbed your arm unsurely, “Is the chair off–limits too? I can take the floor if that’s better.”

“Dorogoy, we’re inviting you into our bed,” Natasha chuckles disbelievingly, fingers tracing the covers as to tempt you with the invitation.

“Mhmm, yeah no. I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” You shook your head, stumbling over your words. “I don’t do well in confined spaces with pretty women, I mean— no wait you are, both are super pretty but that’s not—“

Thankfully, Wanda interjected before you could embarrass yourself further with a giggle. You swore your stomach flipped. “Cute, but won’t you get cold?” She suggested, Natasha nodding and lifting the covers, adding, “It’s much warmer over here.”

Again, you waved them off and they were starting to get fed up with your excuses. “Oh nah! My suit has thermal heating installed, pretty cool right? Tony helped me insulate it–”

“Y/n, just get in the bed.”

Before you could protest further, you felt those warm red tendrils wrap around you, coaxing you into their bed, and you couldn’t even remember why you were fighting this in the first place when their arms wrapped around you. Not when their sheets were so warm, and their bodies warmer.

Resistance be damned, as Natasha's hand ran gently through your hair, you relaxed into it, and both girls smiled. This was how things needed to be, always.

Still, your heart was beyond nervous to even enjoy the moment but they were pushing at your shoulders to tuck you in further, getting settled themselves. They tangled their limbs with your own and it was official; there was definitely no escaping this.

Pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, Wanda murmured a couple of words and you felt more comfortable clothes encase you. Natasha pressed a tender kiss to the shell of your ear before bidding you a good night.

You repeat her words back and they tighten their grip, closing their eyes.

With exhaustion finally catching up to you, your eyes drooped helplessly again, fluttering shut, bones begging for sleep, and you finally surrendered to its embrace. Allowing yourself a moment of rest with the two people you treasure most in the world.

And suddenly, crashing into windows didn’t seem so bad after all.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda x reader #wanda x y/n #wanda my beloved #natasha x you #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha x wanda #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n

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patches-am · 11 days

Note

For tumblr can i request one where vada cavell makes r sneak out in the middle of the night due to her being scared after the shooting?

yesterday still leaking through the roof

pairings: vada cavell x reader

word count: 1.13k

warnings: mentions of school shooting a very small amount of strong language

In the aftermath of the school tragedy, the days at school have taken on a somber tone, with the haunting memory of what occurred still lingering. An empty seat in your classroom serves as a stark reminder of a student who lost their life that day. It's a heavy burden to bear.

Vada, in particular, is finding it hard to cope. She hasn't been back to school since it happened. Late at night, she often sends you messages, sometimes even showing up at your doorstep. To her, you're like a comforting presence, someone she can lean on when the weight of her emotions becomes too much to bear.

Another school day concludes, and Vada's absence is still palpable. You return home, feeling the exhaustion tugging at your eyelids. You drop your backpack to the floor and collapse onto your bed. Homework beckons, but the call of sleep is even stronger.

You're jolted awake by a barrage of notifications on your phone. The room is cloaked in darkness, with only the faint glow of streetlights filtering in. You squint at your phone, checking the time.

2:17 AM. Shit.

Your nap stretched far longer than planned. The brightness of your phone screen momentarily blinds you, leaving an imprint of your lockscreen in your vision.

As you scroll through the notifications, you see:

blah-blah liked your story…

And a notification about someone commenting on someone else's post- because you definitely needed to know that.

Then, there are the texts from Vada:

vada 🖤 - please come over now

vada 🖤 - y/nn i need you

vada 🖤 - a car backfired outside and it scared the absolute hell out of me sounded like a gunshot dude

There it is, Vada reaching out at an ungodly hour. But this time, there's an urgency in her messages that's different.

You rub the sleep from your eyes and sigh. The thought of leaving your warm bed to sneak out into the night isn't appealing, but you can't ignore her. She's not just seeking attention—something has truly shaken her. The shooting left everyone raw, but for Vada, it feels like she's barely holding on.

You rise slowly, pulling a hoodie over your rumpled shirt. The cold air hits your face as you crack open the window, your usual escape route without waking anyone. You've done this enough times that it feels routine.

The neighborhood is silent except for the distant hum of traffic and the occasional rustle of leaves.

You text Vada as you make your way down the street, heading towards her house.

y/n - omw now. 10 min tops

You hope she sees it, but knowing her, she's probably glued to her phone, waiting. You quicken your pace, your breath visible in the chilly night air.

When you reach her house, you spot her silhouette by the window, the light from inside casting a faint outline. She must've been waiting there the whole time. The thought of how fragile she's become tugs at your heart.

You approach her porch quietly and send her a final text to announce your arrival.

y/n - outside. open up

Her response is immediate.

vada 🖤 - ok, door’s unlocked

You turn the handle and step inside, greeted by the familiar scent of her perfume. The house is dimly lit, with only a soft glow from a lamp in the living room casting long shadows.

Vada sits on the couch, knees drawn to her chest, arms wrapped tightly around them. The moment she sees you, relief washes over her face, but there's a storm in her eyes, a weight she's carrying.

“You okay?” you ask gently, already knowing the answer.

She shakes her head, eyes downcast. “No… Not really.”

You sit beside her, close enough that your knees almost touch. Vada shifts, resting her head on your shoulder, exhaling shakily. She's always needed closeness, especially after the shooting. You're not sure if it's for reassurance or just to feel alive.

“What happened?” you ask softly, concern etched in your voice.

Vada hesitates, fingers fidgeting with her hoodie. You can see the tension in her shoulders. Finally, she speaks, voice trembling. “A car backfired outside. It just—” she pauses, “sounded exactly like… like when it happened.”

Your heart aches, and you wrap an arm around her, pulling her closer. “It’s okay, Vada. I’m here now.”

She nods, face pressed into your hoodie. For a moment, you sit in silence, the weight of her fear palpable. Her grip on your hand is tight, a reminder of how fragile everything has been since that day.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you ask, not wanting to push but knowing she might need to share the burden.

Vada is quiet for a long time, breathing shallow. Then, she whispers, “I can’t stop thinking about it. Every time I close my eyes, I’m back there. I keep seeing them—seeing the ones who didn’t make it. I see the blood. I hear the gunshots. And I… I can’t breathe. I feel like I’m suffocating.”

Her words hit you hard. You knew she was struggling, but hearing it aloud, understanding the depth of her trauma, feels like a punch to the gut.

“I wish I could make it stop for you,” you say softly, rubbing her back. “I wish I could take all of this away.”

Vada lifts her face to look at you, eyes red-rimmed with sadness. “You being here helps,” she says. “It’s the only thing that helps.”

You swallow hard, feeling the weight of her reliance on you. You want to be strong for her, to be her anchor, but there's a part of you that's scared too—scared that you might not be enough.

But you don't let that show. Instead, you pull her closer, resting your chin on her head. “I’m not going anywhere,” you whisper. “You can text me whenever, call me whenever, and I’ll be here. Always.”

Vada sighs, her body relaxing slightly against you, though the tension never fully leaves. “I’m sorry I keep dragging you into this,” she murmurs. “I don’t mean to… I just don’t know how to deal with it.”

“You’re not dragging me into anything, Vada. I’m here because I care. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

She doesn't respond, but her grip on your hand tightens. You sit together in the quiet, the weight of the night pressing down. There's no easy fix, no words to make it better. But for now, being here with her—being her support—feels like enough.

Eventually, Vada's breathing slows, her body leaning more heavily against you as she drifts toward sleep. You adjust your position, ensuring she's comfortable, and settle in for the night, knowing you'll stay until morning.

Because right now, she needs you. And that's all that matters.

#vada cavell x reader #vada cavell x you #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader

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gojos-thot-patrol · 1 year

Note

Geto/gojo/reader “I can’t believe there’s only one bed” and HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY

THANK YOOUUU!! So, this one really sang to me, I went ahead and combined the two, mostly because they are very similar. Thank you both for the prompt!!

Now Presenting...

Starring: A flirty Satoru Gojo, and a tired Suguru Geto

Your body protested every step you took as you walked into the hotel, screaming at you to lay down and accept the sweet embrace of death. Okay, maybe death was a little extreme, but you could definitely have gone for a light coma in that moment. A yawn you had been suppressing came forward, and you tried to rub the sleep out of your eyes.

“Awe, well aren’t you cute when you’re sleepy.” Gojo teased with a smile, earning him a glare from you.

“Shut up Satoru.” This entire trip he kept making note of how cute you were, and how you needed to be protected, and at this point, he was on the brink of losing vocal cord privileges.

“Flirt later you two, let’s just get checked in.” Suguru muttered as he ushered the two of you to the front desk. He tried to summon a friendly smile for the clerk, but it didn’t touch his tired eyes. “Hi! Uh, we should have two reservations under Masamichi Yaga.” He said, really hoping they didn’t ask for an id. He told his teacher that he should probably put the rooms under one of the three people going on the mission, but the man was more muscle than brain.

The young worker started typing on the computer, before confusion fell over her features. “Um, I found the reservations, but it says it’s only for one room?” She asked. You were a bit taken back by that, and you could tell from the looks on their faces the boys were too. You thought for sure you’d at least get your own room. But, then again, if getting a room with 3 beds was cheaper than getting 2 separate rooms, it did make sense for Yaga to take that route, the penny pinching bastard.

“Uh, yea that should be fine, that’s us.” Suguru shrugged, too tired to really argue. Much to your relief (and concern) the woman nodded and happily gave over the room key, not bothering to ask for an ID. What a stand up place. The three of you dragged your tired worn bodies over to the elevator. Well, two of you did. Satoru felt fine, because of course he did. And because he had no problem filling the elevator with whatever came to his head. You shared a look with Suguru.

How do we shut him up? Your eyes asked.

Pillow over his face as he sleeps Sugurus eyes offered.

No, I want him to shut up now.

Oh, that’s not gonna happen. For now, we just have to endure him.

You sighed, knowing he was right and hating that fact at the same time. Thankfully, the elevator door opened, and the room wasn’t far from it. Geto unlocked the door, and you and Gojo practically fell over him to get into it. You quickly went to grab your toothbrush, and Gojo went to fiddle with the tv. It was Suguru who noticed it first.

“Uh, guys? I don’t see another bed.” He said. You and Gojo stopped cold in your tracks, heads whipping to the center of the room and- yep. That was one bed, and only one bed. Not even so much as a pull out couch in sight.

“OH ho ho!!” Satoru laughed, launching himself onto the bed and folding himself into what you think was meant to be a sexy pose. “I’ve read fan fiction before, I know what happens here!” He cackled, “Be gentle with me, I’m a virgin” He swooned, acting like a helpless flower.

“I call sleeping in the bathtub.” Suguru said, checking out of this battle before it became a war.

“No, Don’t!” Gojo whined, reaching out to him, “The bathtub is cold and hard, I'm warm and soft. Unless you want me to be hard.” He winked.

“I can’t believe there’s only one fucking bed, who sets this shit up?!” You snapped, aggressively waving your hands at the bed.

“God.” Gojo responded.

“Bad fan fiction writers.” Geto retorted, apparently salty about his characterization in my past fics.

“Satoru get out of the bed.” You demanded, shaking your head. You did not just get out of a fight with ten, count em, ten first grade curses to sleep on the floor.

“How about you get in the bed?” He purred.

“I will, as soon as you get out of it.” you scoffed, fighting back a laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

“Why not get in it with me?” He grinned at you, opening his arms wide as an invitation.

“I’d rather sleep in the bathtub.” You replied.

“Not an option, I already called it!” Suguru reminded you.

“Why don’t you sleep with him?” You accused more than asked, “He’s your man!”

“He is most definitely not my man!” Geto rebuffed the statement, shaking his head.

“He’s actually my man, we just haven’t taken our relationship to the next level yet.” Satoru purred with a cheeky wink to Geto to really seal the deal. Geto rolled his eyes.

“I’m going to bed, goodnight.” He said, going to grab a pillow from the bed, only for Satoru to grab his arm.

“Come on guys, don’t be silly! This bed is big enough for all of us!” He argued, “We all trust each other, right?!” Gojo paused long enough to look at both you and Geto, but not long enough for an answer. He already knew it. “We know no ones going to try any funny business, we trust each other with our lives there's no reason for any of us to be uncomfortable tonight!” you and Suguru shared more glances. Gojo may be annoying, but when he was right he was right. The only thing really keeping the three of you from sharing was standard social conventions.

“Fine, but if any of you touch me I’m throwing you off the balcony.” You warned. Geto sighed and ran a hand through his hair, sitting on the bed.

“I just don’t get why we weren’t warned about this.”

“I mean, it kind of explains the weird look she gave us.” You noted, sitting on the other side of Gojo.

“Yay, sleepover!” Gojo cheered, grabbing onto Suguru because he was the one that didn’t threaten him, “Fair warning, I’m a cuddler.” He grinned, wiggling his eyebrows for emphasis.

“I knew I should have just slept in the tub.” Geto sighed.

🛏️🛏️🛏️

In the morning, you were a tangled mess of limbs and drool with your two best friends. Any warning against cuddling being tossed to the wind in exchange for the comfort human warmth brings. You hated to admit it, but it was the best sleep you had gotten in weeks. Gojo woke up not long after you, smiling softly, slowly coming back to life.

“Good morning,” He said. You shook your head and covered his face with a pillow.

“It was before you started talking.” You muttered.“It’s 6 am, go back to bed.” Suguru begged, not happy to have been woken up.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #suguru geto #gojo x reader #geto x reader #satoru gojo x reader #suguru geto x reader #satosugu #satosugu x reader #satoru gojo fluff #suguru geto fluff #satosugu fluff #satosugu x reader fluff #gojo x reader fluff #geto x reader fluff #nobody likes you when you're 23

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elssero · 1 month

Note

Can we get a part 2 to best friends big sister, cuz that was the shit

yes u definitely can !!

best friends big sister part 2

i.midoriya

♰ nsfw/suggestive, more sub!izuku + a little angst, fluff.

part1

watching izuku and his mother leave your family home puts a weird feeling in your chest, you’ll miss him you think.

you recall the events of the night when you entire your room. you smile slightly as you look at your bed- the dip he left in your covers still evident.

deciding to shower in the morning you change into something more comfortable- your distracted by a buzz from your phone and you pick it up, already having a good idea about who it could be.

it’s izuku of course- letting you know that they got home save and thanking you for the night, it’s innocent enough. reading the message you don’t find any undertones and you sigh in relief-

your not allowed peace for too long before your interrupted by a knock on your door. it’s katsuki- you can tell by the volume of his knocks that he’s in a bad mood. you let him in anyway.

he glances around your room for a second, almost as if looking for something and when he doesn’t find whatever it is he starts to speak.

“you gna’ tell me what the fuck tonight was with that nerd?” you’d laugh at his childish nickname if his voice wasn’t laced with so much venom- he’s angry, in fact you haven’t seen him this angry since he was a teenage.

“i have absolutely no idea what your talking about kats” you try and sound sincere but to katsuki it just comes off as mocking- something happened tonight and he knows it. not only have you snuck around with one of his friends your also lying about.

“don’t fuckin’ lie to me-” he cuts himself off. he knows that there’s no way your going to be honest with him if he’s this angry at you- he can’t blame you. deciding to take a different route he begins again. “m’ not gna’ be angry at you i just- fuck i just need you to be honest with me.”

you stare at him for a moment- going over your options you decide you have two. the first being is being honest with him- telling him exactly in not so many details that you slept his izuku during a family dinner. the second being to deny deny deny.

“kats i swear-“ your cut off again by another buzz of your phone- both of your eyes snap down to your phone, he can’t quite read the name but you can. the conatct “izuku :p” now staring back at you.

“who the fuck is texting you at this time” he says it absentmindedly at first before his face quickly changes into one of rage again. “it’s fuckin’ him isn’t it.”

you don’t reply to him- face still staring down at your screen. you know your caught- he’s going to reach down for your phone any second and he’s far too fast for you to stop him- you can only hope izuku’s second message is as innocent as his first.

just as you predicted he lunges for your phone- turning it to face you as he unlocks it with your face id- he reads the first message aloud, slowing down at the end as he realises izuku is just being nice.

he stops abruptly after that- reading the second message in his head before saying it aloud, his voice dripping with the same venom from before.

“what the fuck does he mean by the ‘other thing’ and what the actual fuck does he mean by next time.”

oh shit.

izuku is still in a state of shock as your door closes- he almost skips home that night. wide smile on his face as he walks hand held with his mothers as he guides her home in her drunken state.

unlocking their apartment door he immediately sends his mother to bed- she doesn’t protest much, apart from telling him he’s no fun and sending him a goodnight.

the boy is nearly floating as he gets ready for bed- eager to message you a well deserved thank you.

he studies his first message- deciding to keep it light, it’s very late now and he’s aware you might even be asleep, deciding he doesn’t want you to wake up tomorrow morning with some sort of sext from him.

you read it immediately and his smile grows wider- he awaits your reply, excited to begin another conversation with you as if he hasn’t been sat hand in yours for the past couple of hours.

the cheerful reply he was hoping for doesn’t come. infact no reply comes at all and suddenly there’s a pit in his stomach.

he gives you a couple of minutes before he can’t contain himself anymore and sends you another- his face going bright red as he types it- deleting and rewriting it a couple times before he hastily presses send before he can doubt himself anymore.

it’s nothing crazy- not by your standards but to him it’s the single most suggestive? thing he’s ever sent to a girl and he’s freaking the fuck out.

izuku :p: i also wanted to thank you for the other thing…i really enjoyed it. i had a really good time with you tonight. if you were serious about there being a next time im free next weekend.❤️

you snatch your phone from katsuki’s hand to read the message yourself- you curse midoriya for being so sweet because you can’t help the fact the panic falls from your face as you reach the end of the message- instead being replaced by a small smile on your face.

“so you did fuck him.” your snapped back to reality by the rough sound of your brothers voice. he doesn’t sound angry anymore- instead it’s replaced by hurt.

you should’ve known izuku was completely off limits, you think a small part of you did know, only making the guilt you feel for betraying your brothers trust even stronger.

“m’ sorry kats-” he doesn’t respond. instead turning on his heel as he leaves your room in lightening speed- nearly taking your door off its hinges at the power he uses to slam it.

izuku’s message is left unreplied as you slip into your bed after watching your brother leave- you know better than to follow him as he is now. you’ll talk about it later when your both in better headspaces.

class the next day is hell for both boys- katsuki arrives early as always. settling into his desk as he listens to his idiot friends talk his ear off about their weekends. he’d quite like to ignore the events of his own weekend but his dream is cut short when he watches izuku stumble into the door.

he looks more tired than usual- somehow managing to appear even more nervous than he normally does. bakugo watches as the other boy attempts to quickly make his way to his desk without being interrupted.

“hey midoriya my man!” its kaminari who’s the first to speak to the boy “heard you had dinner at bakugos this weekend- you see his sister?” katsuki’s eyes roll as midoriya’s face flushes- it’s like he’s not even trying to hide it.

he can’t even form a response to denki’s question as imagines of the night before flash in his mind. he takes a quick, guilty look at bakugo before ultimately turning away from his friends and hiding in his chair.

he’s stressed. infact he’s beyond stressed. you didn’t reply to either of his messages last night despite seeing them both. he’s contemplated sending you another every second he’s been awake but ultimately decides against it, he’s giving you time.

the boys spend the rest of the day ignoring each other- well bakugo ignores the other and midoriya thanks the gods everytime he watches the blonde practically run away from him.

it’s not until their journey home when the boys are finally alone- no more corners to turn away at, no more walls to hide behind.

“um- hi kacchan..” he doesn’t know what else to say- it’s not exactly like he can come straight out and ask his friend why his sister is ignoring him after they slept together in his house. at his family dinner.

bakugo takes his time replying- trying his hardest to hold himself back from pummelling the shorter boy into the ground.

“you slept with my sister.” oh. so that’s why you haven’t spoken to him. bakugo knows. he’s known the entire time. he’s known since he watched you two leave the dinner table last night.

“i’m sorry kacchan- i don’t know how it happened i promise i didn’t mean too-”

“god will everyone stop fucking saying that?” he’s angry- but it’s more than that. midoriya recognises it immediately- he’s hurt.

“if you two were so fuckin’ sorry it wouldn’t have happened in the first place” he’s right and midoriya knows he’s right. the guilt he feels currently is unlike anything he’s ever felt.

“but it did happen. so know i wanna know what you plan to do about it.” the shorter boy looks at the boy in bewilderment- what he plans to do about it? he thinks about it deeply.

he’s already came to the conclusion that it couldn’t have been as big of a deal to you as it was to him. it wasn’t your first time and it certainly wasn’t the case that you had been borderline inlove with him since you were six. you didn’t feel the same.

“i guess- i um. i really don’t know. i just kinda thought id let her do what she wanted.” there’s a small hint of pain in his voice as he says it. “take whatever i can get i guess.”

bakugo studies the boy for a second. truly wishing his suspensions about his friends feelings for you had been overdramatised in his head.

they aren’t though. midoriya is completely and utterly smitten by you and he has been for as long as he can remember. bakugo lets out a long sigh before he admits something.

“my sister doesn’t just sleep with anyone y’know” suddenly the other boys eyes snap to his- “shut up- don’t fuckin’ look at me like that.”

“i know what your thinking alright? that last night wasn’t serious for her- or that she doesn’t actually feel anything for you-” he curses at himself- how has he found himself helping stupid fuckin’ deku get with his stupid fuckin’ sister.

“but that’s not true- you know how everyone thinks about her- fuck you heard denki this morning-” both boys grimace slightly at the memory of denki blabbering about how he would do anything to share a mealtime with you.

“but she’s never slept with any of them- not a single one of my friends before. she flirts yeah but she always draws the line.” he doesn’t understand it fully- when you could’ve had any of them, you could’ve had kirishima or sero- god even denki would’ve been better than the boy standing next to him.

“i don’t know what it is about you that made her cross that line but it’s gotta’ be somethin’.”

midoriya looks at bakugo in amazement. he doesn’t say it openly but he knows the boy walking next to him well enough to know he’s giving permission. that in his own weird way he’s urging the midoriya to give you it a proper chance.

“i have plans with shitty hair for the next couple of hours- my parents are away so it should be you two.” midoriya is even more shocked now? he wants him to go see you? now?? alone??

“god- stop lookin’ at me like that- i didnt mean it like that. i meant to talk to her for fucks sake.” oh that makes more sense.

it doesn’t take much convincing- midoriyas quickly finds himself practically running to your house following a quick shout of a thanks to his childhood friend as he makes his way to you.

the knock on your door is impossible to ignore- forcing you out of bed to open it. you haven’t moved much, allowing yourself a day to wallow in self pity before continuing with your life.

you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t though of izuku all day. you thought of his face- of his stupid smile- of the stupid way he looks at you as if you constantly have some sort of halo above your head.

your completely shocked to find the boy you’d just been thinking about standing in your doorway- he’s panting heavily. it’s clear that he’s catching his breath from the sheer speed he used to make his way to your home.

“what are you doing here?” it’s a simple question but you know the answer is a lot more complicated than you’d like.

“i just- i had to see you.” still catching his breath as he replies- he’s looking directly at you- the expression on his face is one you would use if you hadn’t seen the person in front of you in years. it does kind of feel like that.

“and- i had to do this.” his lips crash on to yours before you can question his next move. he’s eager- he kisses you like he’ll never get the chance again, he thinks that maybe he won’t.

he savours every moment, every move of your tongue, every feel of your touch.

you break the kiss as you pull him inside- slamming the door behind you as your corner the boy against it-

“talk.” he squeaks at the sound of your voice- it’s harsh, powerful. he doesn’t quite know what to say? god why didn’t he think of this on the way over? he doesn’t have the time to reprimand himself for being stupid right now so instead he says the only thing he’s thought of when he looks at you for years.

“i love you.” it’s quiet when you hear it, you can’t tell if his volume is really that low or if your head has muffled all sound coming from his mouth.

“you do?” it’s a whisper as it leaves your voice- your not an idiot, you know the boy infront of you has been pining over you since you were kids. you just didn’t know how serious it was for him.

“i- i do. with everything in me i do. i think i always have.” you remain silent. fully taking in the weight of his words. it’s clear as day now that you think about it- you can’t believe you brushed off how he felt to a stupid crush.

your gaze is unwavering as you scan his face- inspecting it for any hint of regret. you don’t find it- instead you find him looking at you with nothing but love.

you kiss him again- moving so harshly against him that his back collides with the door behind him as he scrambles too kiss you back.

the kiss is impatient. as though every moment you’ve ever spent together as been leading up to this moment- it doesn’t compare to yesterday- not now that you know the truth.

his hands explore your body in ways they didn’t yesterday- he’s holding you so tight you think it might leave marks- not that you mind.

you try not to break the kiss as the pair of you messily clamber your way though your house and into your bedroom.

he’s already submitted to you as you move to remove the shirt that’s restricting your access to him- finally removing your lips from his as you slide it over his head- taking a minute to admire his physique.

he’s big- a lot bigger than you anyway- excitement fills your stomach as you struggle to remove your own clothing from your body.

your braless- he didn’t notice it before but he definitely does now, he can’t take his eyes away from your bare chest infront of him as he dips down without thinking.

you feel his mouth on your tits in an instant as he kisses them- light feathery touches changing into hard sucks in a matter of seconds- now your certain he’s leaving marks.

he laps at your chest over and over- you can’t help the slight gasp you realise when he sucks down on your nipple- he looks up at you wide eyed following the noise you let escape before he’s crashing down on your tits- continuing his attack.

you grab a handful of his hair in order to stop him- forcing him to look at you- his eyes meet yours with a look of carnality, pulling him into another kiss as you fumble with the buttons on his trousers.

“fuck, i-" your breathless, his face is flushed and his pupils blown. "need you inside, need to feel you." he replies with a groan.

you each clumsily remove your pants as your faces touch, both of your mouths agape as you practically breathe the same air.

his brain goes fuzzy and you dizzily watch him pull down his boxers, the length slapping against his stomach as it’s released from its confines.

you don’t waste anytime situating yourself on top of him, grabbing his dick as you move it against the outside of your pussy, pressing it against your clit as your head falls back in a moan.

“oh- oh fuck s-stop teasing ohmygod please put it in- oh pleaseplease”

he’s moaning so pretty as you give in and slide him into you, allowing your weight to fall on him as you sink as low onto him as you can. he’s already a mess under you- babbling out thank yous. it turns you on so much seeing how desperate he is for you. already addicted to your pussy and the way it sucks him like a vice.

“f-feels soso good ngh fuck- don’t ever want another pussy- only you- only ever been you-” you giggle at his praise- beginning to roll yourself down on him.

you have him exactly where you want him- where you’ve wanted him since the second he walked into your kitchen weeks ago-

you’ve never quite felt desire like this before, sure you’ve had sex but this is different, it feels almost biological- like he was made for you.

your thoughts are cut off when he cries out from beneath you- “oh- f-fuck m’ gonna cum- wanna cum for you so bad!” oh lord. you can’t believe the words coming out of his mouth as they go straight to the heat in your abdomen.

“you wanna cum for me baby?” your egging him on- as though you know exactly what to say to put him on the edge of his realise- “yesyesyes please- can i? can i come for you please-”

gasps and whimpers falling from izuku's parted lips as his head is thrown back. was all sex this good??

“cum for me zuku’” and he lets go on command, cumming inside as soon as you tell him too. his parted lips as his voice rings out your name and his hips jump instinctively with every bounce you make.

your movements don’t falter as he orgasms- keeping a steady pace as you ride it out. it’s not long before he’s making noise again- begging below you.

“w-wait ! s’too much!” his thighs are shaking below you- his whole body straining as he attempts to keep himself together- he’s failing miserably.

a flow of whines and moans leave his mouth and he continues on about how you feel too good- how it’s too much for him.

“you can give me another right izuku?” his eyes close tightly shut as he feels your pace increase- he knows it’s coming- he nods quickly.

this feeling of overstimulation is foreign to the boy, he’s so used to just getting it over with that he’s never gave himself the time to feel this good.

“cum in my pussy again zuku i need it-” he lets out a cry when he cums for the second time- physically lifting you off of him as his dick twitches-

you watch as the cum shoots from his tip landing on his chest with a heavy sigh-

your thighs move together instinctively and the movement doesn’t go unnoticed by izuku who is now looking at you lazily.

“you didn’t cum.” he sounds dejected as he says it- you don’t want him to feel bad- it’s harder for you-

“no i didn’t. but it’s okay i promise sometimes it takes awhile-” you smile at him as you say it in an attempt to make him feel better. he’s pouty.

“wanna’ make you feel good.” you giggle at him- he moves his hands to the inside of your thighs and pulls your legs apart- giving him a full few of your cum dripping pussy.

he lets out a whimper at the sight- head dropping towards your core- he approaches fast- nose hitting your clit as he takes a deep breath in-

“izuku it’s okay u don’t have too.” you move your hand in his hair comfortingly- not wanting him to feel pressured.

“you said i could last time- you promised” when you think back on it you don’t quite remember using the word “promise” but your not given the time to confirm it before his tongue leaves his mouth and licks your slit.

he eats you out like he’s starved- it’s sloppy, clear as day that he’s never done this before but it feels so good- your in awe at the boy situated under you, watching him as he moved impossibly deeper into your pussy.

your breath hitches as he sucks down ok your clit- a loud moaning leaving your lips as your head falls back. he groans into you when he hears the noise escape your lips as he begins eagerly sucking on that same spot.

he’s murmuring sweet nothings into you as he continues- “tastes so good- f-fuck you taste so good.” your mouth is fully agape now- unable to to hold in your groans.

“y-yeah? my pussy taste good baby? ngh- you wanna make me cum?-” he nods into your pussy in reply- sucking down even harder when he hears your words.

your back uncontrollably arches as he continues- his pace unfaltering as your thighs squeeze around his head- the action only drawing a whine from the boy situated between them.

his hands are wrapped around them- his hands digging into the softness of your thighs as he holds them apart- allowing himself full access to you.

“oh f-fuck- your doing so well zuku- gna’ make me cum baby-” your cut off as a whine of your own escapes your lips.

he’s drowning in your pussy as you finally cum- he’s whispering out thank yous as you finish in his mouth.

your catching your breath as your attempting to pull him up towards you- forcing him face to face with you.

you don’t exchange words as you manoeuvre your way under your covers- taking his hand in yours as you guide him to lay down beside you.

you pull his head to your bare chest as he lays down on you- eyes shutting as he lets out a comfortable but sleepy sigh.

he begins another whisper- “i’m sorry if this ruins the moment but- what does this mean?” his eyes are opened again now as he looks up at you- fearful of rejection.

“we’ll work it out- but um- i don’t want this to stop and uh- i’d like to spend more time with you iguess.” he nearly giggles at how much you remind him of your brother in this moment- struggling to put into words how you truly feel as you hope the boy will understand.

he does- of course he does. not feeling a need to reply he doesn’t as he cuddles into you, easily drifting to sleep as he finds much needed comfort in your body.

it’s hours later when you find yourself now fully clothed in your kitchen again- taking leftovers out of your fridge as you hear the opening of your door.

you poke your head round the corner to reveal katsuki- you give him a soft smile as he makes his way over to you after shuffling out of his shoes.

“the nerd upstairs?” your smile goes even softer as you tell him yes. he returns your smile now- except his is a lot more teasing than yours is.

“so- uh how’d it go?” bakugo would be lying if he said he wasn’t interested- hoping to god that it went well as he grimaces at the thought of watching izuku sulk forever as he did today.

“we worked it out.” is all the reply you give- all the reply he needs, an identical now softer smile grazing his lips as he nods at you.

“you’ll work it out-” he pauses slightly before continuing- wrapping a protective arm around your shoulder before he continues “m’ sure you will”

the end? idk i quite like the ending of this being a little ambiguous, i might make a little drabble of your parents finding out about ur relationship with izuku but im undecided.

#bnha #mha #mha x reader #fanfiction #bnha x reader #bakugo katuski #mha fanfiction #mha x female reader #mha x reader smut #izuku midoriya x reader #mha izuku #izuku x reader #izuku midoriya #bnha izuku #izuku x y/n #izuku midoria x reader #mha midoriya #bnha midoriya #midoriya x reader

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harlowhockeystick · 2 months

Text

OH, HERE WE GO AGAIN ⎯ Nathan MacKinnon

y/n is tired of nate crashing her parties, nate is tired of her making dumb decisions, especially with a killer on the loose.

dirty cop!nate x fem!reader

warnings: smut (18+ MDNI, rough sex, spitting, absolute raunchy shit), cuss words, college parties, i would consider this a dark fic so take that as you wish, talk of murder and serial killers, drug deals.

word count: 2.4k

a/n: y'all know me, always makin up new au's. but this time i get to use my (almost) degree. read with caution because i really got down and dirty with this one, but please enjoy.

🎧⎯ listen to "my boy only breaks his favorite toys", "i can fix him (no really i can)" by taylor swift, "THE GREATEST" by billie eilish

she could sense his presence before he even walked into the house. she was aware of the chances of running into him when she went out that he would show up, especially when she went to a house party or a bar on the weekends. he always seemed to show up right when things started to get sticky, she could never figure out why.

she saw the flashing blue and red lights, heard forceful bangs on the door. she chugged the remaining alcohol before getting caught by officer mackinnon once again. people started to scramble, running out to the backyard and jumping the fence, hiding in closets or finding an exit before they got caught with things they should have in hand. y/n was clear, but she knew what was in store whenever nathan showed up.

"alright, show's up! everybody out!" y/n heard his booming voice as she stood in the kitchen talking to her friends. a couple of her friends ditched before officers barged in, one more stayed behind. one that nate didn't like.

"officers! what's the issue?" one of the frat boys approached nate, trying to act like the walls weren't shaking from the bass and the smell of vodka and weed wasn't leaking into the streets. "we're just trying to have fun." nate rolls his eyes and shoves past the boy, letting the other officers deal with him. he shoves people out of the way, yanking beer bottles out of hands and tugging drug baggies out of shirt pockets. then he spots you in the kitchen, a sinister smirk on his lips.

"well well, thought i told you to stay away from these things?" he strides toward her grabbing her hand aggressively, pulling her toward the door. he gave her friend a nasty look up and down, muttering something about how much of a bitch she is.

"whatever do you mean officer? can't a simple college girl enjoy a party on the weekends?" y/n uses a very sweet but annoying tone while talking to him, blowing a kiss to one of the boys as she makes her way out. that just makes him pull on your hands harder, making her strain.

"you're in your last semester of grad school and you work a full time job, hardly consider you a college girl, sweetie." nate bites back, pushing you down on the hood of his matte black squad car, the one he usually uses for undercover work. he pats you down, his hands getting dangerously close to some of his favorite areas on you. but he's not gonna do that in public, at least. sometimes he has manners. he tells you to lean against his car while he gets a breathalyzer, opening the package. he holds it up to your lips, "blow."

"take me on a date first nathan," you wrap your lips around the device and hold steady eye contact with him, blowing out strongly for five seconds. he takes it out and waits for the results.

"hmm, past the legal limit." he shakes his head.

"i hold my liquor real well officer."

nate manhandles her into the backseat of his car, slamming the door in her face. getting in the front seat he drives the familiar route to her house where she gets more intoxicated by the second with the alcohol just circling her system. he helps y/n into her own house, unlocking the door (he hopes she wouldn't notice that he had his own on his keychain) and into her bedroom. she's a giggling, fidgety mess as he tries to help her get dressed into pajamas at least.

"how come you're always ruining my parties, nathan." she spits at him, sitting up in bed lazily wiping her makeup off with a rag he gave her.

"i'm not ruining anything, i'm trying to keep you safe. how many times do i have to tell you i don't like you going to those things, the last thing i need is you getting roofied and i find you on a bathroom floor with your fuckin panties at your knees." he breathes after his rant; standing tall with his chest full of air, his voice getting louder and louder with every other word. "and quit calling me nathan." he failed to realize that he actually struck a nerve with her as he saw tears well up in her eyes.

she crossed her arms over her chest, turning the bedside lamp off signaling it was time for him to leave. he sighed, trying to reach down and make it up by giving her a kiss on the forehead. she swerved out of the way, pulling the quilt up over her shoulders and staring at the wall across from her.

nate and y/n have a strange relationship. they've known each other for so long, since they can remember. nate had a tougher upbringing than she did, which drove him into a tough and rugged job like the police force. when she got accepted into university he was graduating the academy faster than expected from his peers.

he had an odd attachment to her, and he refused to admit to anyone that he was in love with her. he'd been in love since they kissed under the bleachers in seventh grade when she got his gum stuck in her braces. he stays in love with her, that's why in his mind he makes up valid excuses to him stalking her every move around town when he's on duty. especially when he's on his undercover watch.

she's yet to figure out how he comes in clutch so quick, and he's thankful for that. he doesn't have an explanation made up in his head yet when she does figure it out.

nate stays watch outside of her house until his shift is over, listening to radar and watching the time go by. he really doesn't know what he would do if he found her on some bathroom floor. he would probably black out and rip every man apart limb to limb until he found the dick who did it, and only then would he lose complete control. definitely lose his badge and his gun.

his shift ends and he pulls away, driving the fifteen minutes across town to his own place for the night. he dreams about her each and every night, some good and some bad. one time he dreamt about asking her to be his to show off, and she said no. it's a deep fear of his, truly, her saying no; because he really wants to ask her at least once...maybe to the movies keep it simple?

but he never ends up making a decision. he keeps things the way they are for now, nate stalking her around town when he's on shift, stealing her away from frat parties, and pulling her over when she gets too close to the edge of town. the hold he has on her is addicting, like the worst type of drug he's encountered.

no more parties. you need to be more careful.

you're not my dad, i am a grown woman who does what she wants

she's not gonna do shit if she gets killed. there's been a few murders in the surrounding counties of college aged girls at parties, they took em out back and fucked em up.

how nice of you to look out for me.

i'm serious, no more. i don't care, i'll follow you around to every single party you even think of going to.

whatever, nathan.

"we got a lead on our target- pretty good lead, he's gonna be at some party on erskine street tonight." nathan sat in the team meeting with the other detectives around the table, the other undercover detective sitting next to him in street clothes also.

"we have reason to believe that he is either involved or the cause of the string of murders in the county. four college aged women have been killed in similar ways, but all four were found with their hair cut and their throats slit along with cut marks along their inner thighs."

nate tuned out a long time ago when they mentioned parties and college women. his mind went the worst way possible. what if is was her who was next? what if she was found in a ditch somewhere? what if she was going to be at this party tonight?

"hayes, you're gonna be at this party tonight-" his heart rate sky rocketed. he wasn't about to let someone else do this job.

"with all do respect sir- he doesn't look like a college aged kid. i'm the only person on this team who is close in age to a college kid, i have a better chance getting into this party than hayes." he gave a sly look over to his colleague, knowing he was right. it stunted his boss a little bit, surprised by his assertiveness.

"alright, you can go. you know what to do if you see him. you'll have on a wire, don't do something stupid." yeah, but he doesn't know what to do if she's there and he's there.

the meeting ends and he goes out to his car, sitting with the air conditioner lightly blowing on him. he thinks about texting her as a warning, but he knows that it would only freak her out. he thinks about going to her house and having an in person conversation, but he knows after how last weekend went she wouldn't welcome him in. nate can only hope she finally for once in her life takes his advice and doesn't come to this party.

nathan slips the guy at the door a hundred dollar bill, letting him in the party. he knows it isn't going to be easy, he's bigger and has a different look in his eye compared to all the other college boys in this frat house. he feels like he's still got it, though, as he walks through the house and every single girl is giving him the eyes he used to get his freshman year. it takes him back.

he turns it on immediately, allowing girls to flirt and run their hands up his body. he has to be careful not to drink, because if the target is here he can't arrest someone while under the influence; that's not how he wants to be on the news.

nate feels good in his dirty little groove he has going on, dancing with four different girls, kissing them and feeling their bodies with his calloused hands. but he feels her presence- no, he feels her eyes on him before anything else. he slowly turns around and she's giving him the worst look of his life. he feels caught, a deer in headlights, a kid stealing candy, a criminal caught in the act.

but his body acts before his mind does. shoving the girls off of him and making his way through the crowd, he follows after her. when she realized he was coming her way she bolted, setting her drink on a random surface, turning around and trying to get away from him. but he was too fast- he pulled her shirt and into a vacant room.

nate flipped the lights on and when he did she slapped the silly look off his face. but he couldn't do anything, he knew he deserved it. "you fucking dick!" she shouted, pushing him away from her. she continued to yell and shout profanities at him, wanting nate to feel the betrayal she felt.

but she took it too far when she shouted police officer. immediately he put one stiff arm on her chest and one hand covered her mouth, pushing her against the nearest wall. "shut up," he quietly spat, reaching to turn the lights off. he could still see her from the street light that was pouring in through the open window.

"i'm here because the guy we've been going after is going to be here tonight. that is the only fucking reason i'm even here-" she rolled her eyes and tried to move away, "he's killed four other women, your age and your body type, and he's one of the leaders in the drug trade 'round here. so i'd shut the fuck up and listen if i were you, babe."

he saw her eyes soften through the faint lighting and he knew he caught her attention. nathan felt her stiff muscles relax as she stood up straight against the wall, not trying to fight with him anymore. he removes his arm and hand, but he doesn't step away from her quite yet. "i didn't know you were like, a detective. thought you just wrote tickets."

"there's a lot you don't know about me, y/n." he opens his phone to see a text from his partner who was staking out down the street. "he's here." he swear he heard her stop breathing for a few seconds when the words slipped out of his mouth.

there is a killer, a drug leader, a criminal in this house.

nate sensed her anxiety and placed his large hand on her cheek, "stay here until i come get you. i don't care if someone else comes in here do not leave this room until i come get you, understand?" she nodded her head.

he left the room and went downstairs, going to the backyard to grab a drink. he found a cold bottle of coke and took a sip, but as he opened it he saw the target. ten feet from him, was the man he and his unit had been hunting for the past month and a half. reminding himself he was wearing a wire he muttered the code into his chest before making his way over to the target.

"hey man," he gave the man a head nod as he slipped him a fake fifty dollar bill. the target chuckled, "you're new, haven't met you yet have i?"

"new in town, i'm a grad transfer, tryna make it through the first couple weeks y'know?" the target nodded his head. standing up he put his hands in his pocket. just as he did so, nate's backup team busted through the house shouting with their guns pointed, looking for the target. he heard the ruckus, looked at nate and took off toward the gate in the backyard trying to jump the fence.

nate grabbed him by his coat and threw him to the ground roughly, pulling his hands behind his back and slapping handcuffs on his wrist. "you're under arrest motherfucker," nate said through gritted teeth.

the other police officers were getting everyone out of the house and shutting the party down while nate and his colleague took the target to his car. "wait here, i'll be back in a minute." he knew that they still had to get a confession out of the target. his department was known for getting a one hundred percent confession rate, and those never came from the interrogation room. nate was known for getting those in the back of his police car.

he walked back into the house and into the room where y/n was still sitting on the bed. he let out a small sigh of relief. "i'll get someone to drive you home. i have to finish up here."

she couldn't decide on what emotion to feel quite yet. anger? she was extremely angry with nate. fear? she was stricken with fear from the moment nate told her the reason he was really there. worry? she was worried about what might have happened if something went wrong in the arrest.

there was some part of her that was thankful nate was safe, that he was okay, and nothing bad happened. she hated that.

he walked her out of the house and told his colleague to take her home. "i'll see you in an hour." nate watched her get into his partners car before getting into his own. except he got in the backseat next to the target, not the front.

nate grabbed his gun from his holster that was hiding under his thick sweatshirt, wiping it off with a small handkerchief he kept in his jeans pocket, and pressed it firmly against the targets thigh looking the man in the eyes. "you have once chance to confess, i suggest you do it now."

she hadn't moved off of her couch since nate's partner dropped her off. she sat there on the white polyester sofa, staring at the front door, listening to the light whistle of her air conditioner. she had been counting down the minutes of the hour when nate said he would be there.

y/n couldn't figure out why she was feeling the way she was feeling, but she couldn't exactly put a name to her feeling either. worried about nate, but also incredibly angry at him. her heart and her mind were at war with each other because deep deep down she knew she loved nate, but she hated him at the same time. hated how he was always so controlling, how he was in her business all the fucking time.

her thoughts were interrupted when she saw headlights pull into her driveway and could make out the outline of his car. he walked into her house and saw the saddened figure of her, sitting on the sofa.

but when he walked in, she felt angry again.

nate shut the door and locked it, taking off his sweatshirt and tossing it onto the chair that faced the windows. he was afraid to speak first, because he could sense a bomb was about to go off and it wasn't going to be pretty.

"tell me everything. i'm done with your lies, i'm done with your bullshit, i'm done nathan. tell me everything." he purses his lips and sits on the carpet across from her on the couch- he knows better than to sit next to her when she presses her hands against her lips.

"i put a tracker on your car." that's the first thing he says- if looks could kill he would already be buried by now. "i've been following you on my shifts, sometimes off my shifts too. every party, date, football game you went to i was there too."

"nath-"

"with a killer on the loose? no way i'm letting you out of my sight. i care too much about you. the last thing i want to find out is rolling up to another crime scene and see you dead."

"how long have you been following me?" she said, her tone fierce and her eyes cold.

"since i became an officer." she took in a deep breath, slowly standing up and running her hands into her hairline. she turns around and he starts to speak again, attempting to defend himself but she cuts him off.

"you've been following me for almost five fucking years?!" she screams, veins in her neck protruding and her hands balled into fists out of anger. nate bowed his head and pursed his lips together out of shame. she was bound to found out at one point. "nathan you're insane- you're a fucking psycho i can't even-"

"you could have been dead tonight! you could've been fucking raped and killed if i wasn't there tonight!" his rough voice cut you off, "i've kept you safe from so much. i've kept you from being drugged, kidnapped, and you've never thanked me once."

she rolled her eyes and tried to turn around but nate grabbed her arm fiercely, definitely leaving a bruise. "you don't realize all the shit i've done for you. all those girls he murdered looked exactly you: same hair color, eye color, height, age. you coulda been next you know that?"

she wanted to be angry. she wanted to be frustrated. she wanted to kick him out of her house and never let him back in ever again. block his number, throw away everything he left at her house and ditch his memories forever. "why then? if you're so mean to me, such a fucking helicopter of a man, why?"

"cause i love you! i'm fucking obsessed with you and you refuse to see that! you're so caught up with yourself and your own image that you never fucking even pay attention to me," nate had her pushed against the wall now, his hands firmly on her hip bones as his stare was melting.

"you're not good to me. i'm your favorite toy that you break all the damn time, you come running back to me,"

"'cause you're my favorite."

a moment of silence between the two drives nate crazy. he makes the first move that he knows she was dying for. every time they've had an argument it's led to them tossing underneath her bedsheets until the clock strikes midnight.

his lips encapsulate hers, at first she's timid but inevitably gives in. it's a natural response at this point, her body craves his at all times. one day her mind will catch up. it's his mission to make that happen.

he's about to push her sweatshirt up with his hands but he feels a firm hand press against his chest. "there's more you have to tell me, i know it." she pushes him in her bedroom and closes the door. he falls onto the bed with her standing in between his legs tall, making him look up at him. he knows she's trying to intimidate him, and he hates to admit that it's almost working.

"i've been working undercover for this fuckin' gang for almost two years." she leans down and pulls at his basketball shorts that he wore; she can't lie she liked seeing him in shorts. there was something about his thick muscles abusing the thin material that made her want to jump him but she had to remind herself that she was angry with him. she wanted to make him pay.

"that friend you had- fuck," he felt her soft hand press hard against his crotch, "cassie? i threatened her after you told me she stole from you. that's why you haven't heard from her in over a year." he closed his eyes and she slowly, but with firm hands, started to stroke the outline of his cock through the material of his briefs.

she pulled down her denim shorts and kicked them toward her closet. he chuckled seeing a damp spot on her panties. even angry she can't ignore the way she feels about him.

"that guy you said made you feel uncomfortable on that date six months ago? i got him arrested for drugs." she knelt down and took his cock out, thumbing over the tip making him inhale sharply. "and you remember - fuck - that time when you got a flat tire?" he fell back to the bed when she held eye contact, spitting on his dick and rubbing her hand up and down. "i put a nail in your tire just so you'd call me."

"you're insane."

"i'm in love with you," he sits up and puts his hands on her cheeks, forcing her to kiss him. this time she gave in immediately, kissing back with a passion. he pulled back to take his shirt off and she did the same. he reached around her back and unhooked her bra letting it fall to the ground. she straddled him, slowly sinking onto his hard dick.

it stung at first- neither of them thought to use any protection. their minds are too foggy and they're too in love to do anything about it. "i'd kill for you, y/n." he breathes out when she finally sinks all the way down onto him. "why do i get the feeling you already have?"

both of their eyes are blown with lust as they move together in sync. his large rough hands move across her back, feeling her soft skin close to his. he kisses her tits, sucking and leaving love bites where stretch marks have made their light indent across. he sucks on the most sensitive parts that knows make her moan and her back arch.

she grinds down, his cock hitting the best spot inside her smoothly while her clit grazes against his skin so effortlessly. it's the best feeling she's had all day. she holds on tightly to his shoulders, nails gripping hard and leaving crescent moons from her firm hold. biting her lip as she feels the bubble in her stomach about to burst. nate sits back and watches her ride it out on top of him and it's the most satisfying thing he's ever seen. she moans his name and slows her pace down, firmly grabbing his jaw and pulling him in for a kiss, raking her hand down his chest.

"do you trust me?" he asked as he pulled away.

"i do now," she admitted, running a hand through his short blonde hair. in once quick movement he flipped the both of them over causing her to shriek. he slides out of her, standing up to the edge of the bed. pulling the rest of his briefs off his body he takes in a deep breath.

"turn over," she does as told, propping herself up on her elbows. he brushed her hair out of the way, kissing a trail up her spine as he lined himself up with her entrance. still slick and ready she dipped her head down but let out a sigh when she felt his whole body weight press down on her. nate laced his fingers with hers, "safe word if it's too much. promise i'll stop this time."

not even starting out in a good pace, nate goes straight to fucking her lights out. his body moving with a vicious pace, using every muscle he has on his body into making her body mold with his. nate bit down onto her neck with his teeth lightly while he picked up his pace in an ungodly manner.

her poor bed frame was squeaking and she could bear the base breaking with every thrust. she kept moaning but couldn’t form words, her body tingling from the pleasure she was feeling from his cock railing in and out of her. using his core strength nate sat upright, continuing to fuck all of the energy she had right out of her.

her clit was grazing against the material of the sheets, his hands gripped bruises into her soft flesh of her hips, out of his mouth came a string of curses and praises all aimed at her.

fuck this is the best we’ve had

you feel so damn good

cant get enough of you

it got to the point where the feeling if his cock, his hands on her hips now pulling her back onto him since she ran out of energy just from his force alone. nate felt her warm cunt clench around her pussy signaling her orgasm was close.

pulling her hair, he forced her to press her back against his chest. this angle was somehow better, she felt the tip of his cock bruise the spot inside her that made her see stars. the pleasure was almost too much as she began to cry out from the overstimulation and pleasure that nate was giving her.

one of his hands wrapped around her throat causing her head to rest on his shoulder. she moaned and whined, tears falling from her eyes. the other hand wrapped around her torso and two fingers rubbing on her clit.

she moaned praises and thanks to nate for fucking her so damn good. his cock felt so good abusing her pussy like this she was out of her mind in pleasure, lost in the fog of it all. the way his hand was slowly adding pressure to her throat, his hand rubbing on her poor swollen clit, his dick pumping in and out she was bound to give out.

she stuffed one of her hands in his hair, tugging at the roots and nate begged her to cum on his cock. to drench the sheets in her sticky mess. she also pleaded to fill her up, to have her leaking for days on end. she wanted to feel him inside her for a week and she knew she would with the way he fucked her so good.

her body flopped down onto the mattress when the orgasm washed over her, white knuckling the sheets as he fucked her through it. nate ran his hands over her now lightly sweaty back, kissing deeply on her neck as he pulled out. the two were out of breath, he laid down on the mattress next to her. nate went to the bathroom and got a wet washcloth, handing it to her, not really knowing what to do with it.

“forgive me?” he asked, his voice husky as he pulled his briefs back on. she propped herself up on her elbows resting the cloth on her tender thighs.

“maybe, depends on if you stay the night.”

she woke up to the sound of lightly whispered curses and nate hitting his head on the closet door. she glanced at the clock, 5:19 am. she had only gotten four hours sleep at that point.

“what’re you doing?” she asked, voice coated in sleep.

“partner called, they arrested the other two guys we’ve been after.” he hustled to get his clothes on and tie his shoes. she rolled her eyes, he’s leaving again. nothing changes. she rolled back over with a heavy sigh and a disappointed heart. “hey- hey, i’ll be back. i need this confession and then we’ll be done.”

no response came. she should’ve known it was going to be like this.

“i’ll bring you breakfast, want pancakes or donuts?”

she rolled back over, looking in his eyes. something was different this time, more gentle. more…emotional. different.

“pancakes.”

a/n hehe hope u liked :)

masterlist | feedback

#j’s writing #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl smut #hockey smut #hockey imagine #hockey x reader #nathan mackinnon #nathan mackinnon imagine #nate mackinnon imagine #nate mackinnon #nate mackinnon x reader #nathan mackinnon smut #nate mackinnon smut

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lechemoon · 2 years

Text

the one where spencer reid doesn't want to be just your friend

spencer reid x f reader

wc: ~1.8k

prompt: "i don't want to be your friend. i want to fall in love with you."

no warnings apply, however if i miss any please let me know :) additionally, if someone is able to identify the prompt list that the prompt is from, i would appreciate it! i can't seem to find the list </3

a/n: still on my slow rewatch, i haven't finished season 5 but i know for a fact that long-haired jesus reid is coming to an end, so this fic is for him specifically hehe

spencer shuts his mouth immediately, and regrets ever having the ability to even speak at all. the way you’re looking at him makes him want to curl up into himself.

“that was rude. all i asked was if you wanted to grab lunch.” you stuff your phone in your pocket aggressively, about facing the opposite direction from him.

“wait, wait, wait.” he grabs you by the crook of your elbow, slightly yanking to keep you from walking away from him but not so much that you tip over and lose your balance. it’s now or never, and spencer will be damned if he lets you walk away without even trying to make you understand what he’s been trying to tell you.

you groan, and he hates that he can hear the frustration and confusion emitting from you. hates it because he knows how it feels- he’s been feeling it for months. along with this gnawing feeling in his stomach and a clawing feeling in his chest and an ache in his heart (but he’ll ignore that for now- he’s got things to do and words to say).

you move your free hand to run it through the top of your head, brushing any stray hairs from your face. you let out a quick breath from your mouth, and turn your head towards spencer. you make your body so that it’s still mostly facing away from him slightly. “what? you’re gonna explain why you’re suddenly just changing it up on me? being rude to me out of nowhere? if we can’t be friends right now then i don’t think there’s a reason for us to talk outside of work-“

“i don’t-!” he clears his throat because he doesn’t mean to raise his voice in the middle of the work day. his eyes scan the room quickly, and he finds himself thankful that most of the floor has gone out for lunch. those that are here still seem to have either not heard him or are choosing to ignore his outburst. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to shout… can we- can we talk somewhere more private?”

when you don’t show any signs of saying yes, he pulls out the big guns. releasing your arm, he takes hold of your hand instead. gently, unsure. his bottom lip juts out only slightly, just enough that he knows he’s sure you’ve seen it. and he’s sure, because your eyes land on his lips for a second. “please?”

“ugh, fine.” you shake your hand from his. “there’s no one in penelope’s office,” you say as you begin to walk in the direction of your coworker's office. you don’t bother looking back at spencer until your hand finds the door handle. “why are you still sitting? come on! i don’t have all day and i have to grab a snack after this.”

grabbing his bag and getting up from his chair, spencer makes his way (clumsily) to follow you out the door. “i can explain myself,” he says to your back while you both trek your way to penelope’s office.

he practically hears your eyes roll when you respond with, “i’m sure you can.” you turn left because you accidentally lead the both of you the wrong way, so now you’re taking the scenic route.

“i think we took the-“

“i know,” you cut him off, finally reaching penelope’s door. you open it and aren’t surprised you find it unlocked. neither of you are surprised to find that all the computer screens are locked as well. she wouldn’t be penelope if she didn’t secure her babies.

“okay, we have a few minutes before penelope enters her lair.” you turn to him, hands on your hips and tapping your foot impatiently. “well?”

it’s spencer’s turn to brush his fingers through his hair. he knew what he wanted to say before this- had a whole 20 second speech prepared that ended with a small lie of him not actually being hungry. why couldn’t he think of it now?

i’m sorry. I’m not hungry right now so i didn’t want to get sandwiches with you.

i didn’t mean to tell you to leave me alone like that, or use that tone of voice. or to call you nosey.

in fact, i don’t think i ever want you to leave me alone. i’d eat a hundred sandwiches if it meant spending lunch with you.

“spencer?”

when he takes a good look at you, he forgets everything he wanted to say. “u-uhm,” he bites his lower lip. “i-i’m sorry, i usually… i usually don’t forget what i want to say.” not a lie, not a truth. he has fragments of what he wants to say dangling in his brain, but no way to string them all together.

you smack your lips and cross your arms. “reid, really? you tell me to leave you alone, then you tell me to talk privately- why are you pulling my leg?”

it hits him when he remembers you saying if we cant be friends-

“i don’t want to be your friend,” he tells you directly, looking into your eyes. it takes everything in him not to break eye contact. it gets harder to not look away when you’re staring right back at him with eyes expectant. waiting. almost impatient looking.

and they change slightly. now he sees hurt, worry, sadness. your foot stops tapping. “you… you don’t want to be… friends?” you cross your arms, and spencer knows you’re getting defensive and closed-off. you’re getting ready to leave the room.

but his hands find your upper arms and slides down them, releasing you from your knot and landing at your wrist. he turns them upward, and rubs his thumbs against them in small circles. “i-i don’t want to be just your friend,” he says again, but with more intention.

now he sees something new in you- confusion, curiosity. “just my friend?”

“not just your friend,” he repeats. “I feel like… no. i think i-i want to… to fall in love with you,” he says finally, and his face feels hot and his throat feels dry.

shit, he thinks, that’s not what i was going to say. i didn’t mean to say love! like would have sufficed just fine!

what he should have said was that he liked you more than he would any other person, that you made him feel like he was floating or that he was flying.

spencer feels his stomach drop when you don’t respond to him right away, and he lets his hands begin to fall from your wrist. “that came out wr-“

but you grab his hands into your own before physical contact can even break. “you what?”

“i mean- i did want to be your friend, i do want to be your friend it’s just that i,” he doesn’t know where his sentence is leading but he knows that he wants you to know that wanting to be with you wasn’t his intention at first. “i think… i think you’re great. you’re smart and you’re pretty, and sometimes i notice that you match your socks to your blouse- why are you looking at me like that?”

you're biting your bottom lip to hold back your smile, but the sparkle in your eyes and the crinkle at the corners give you away. you’re happy- nervous, but happy. at least, that’s what spencer speculates when he takes a look at you.

“i feel like i should be mad at you,” you admit, letting go of his hands so that you can rub yours together. penelope’s cave is cold. “liking someone isn’t an excuse to snap at them the way you did to me earlier.”

“i know, and i’m so sorry-“

you cut him off again. “let me finish.” and his lips shut.

not knowing what to do with his now vacant hands, he stuffs them in his pockets and fingers the lint that has made its way into them.

“do you know why i ask you out for lunch all the time?” you ask him, pointing one of your index fingers to his chest.

spencer shakes his head. “because you… like the company and camaraderie?”

“i like your company,” the finger against his chest pushes in slightly, and you take a step back so you don’t have to continue to crane your neck at a weird angle to look up at him. “i like you.”

a confession, spencer thinks to himself, wasn’t on his list of things he expected to happen today. “me?” in attempts to keep a grin from forming, he purses his lips together. it doesn’t help, because now he’s grinning with his teeth in full display.

he tilts his head to the side in disbelief. “r-really?”

“yes, really!” a new third party squeals excitedly from behind.

both you and spencer bring your attention towards the door. spencer shouldn’t be surprised to find penelope in her own doorway, but he is. and so it seems are you.

penelope dances in, doing a happy little shake as she prances past the two of you to set her things and then herself down. neither of your eyes leave her as she settles herself in. spencer feels like his eyes are as wide as they can possibly be and he wonders if you’re feeling the same way, because when he looks at you he thinks that he’s sporting the same look of a deer caught in the headlights.

no one says anything. only the sound of a pastry being released from it’s parchment prison by penelope fills the room until you finally say, “how long have you been standing there?”

the tech beauty of the team rips a piece of her danish to pop it in her mouth and chews on it for a few seconds, exhaling happily when the taste finally hits her tongue. she swallows before she give you her answer. “i’ve been here since…,” she checks her naked wrist as if she were checking the time, and then looks up to smirk at spencer, “since the boy genius said he wanted to- what was it again, dr. reid?”

taken aback by being thrown into the conversation so suddenly, spencer stumbles on his words. “u-uhm, i uh, i said i-”

“ah that’s right,” penelope smiles, setting her pastry down and dusting her hands off. “you said you would like to fall in love with our dear friend here?” she points to you and winks.

if spencer’s eyes could get any wider and if his face could find a darker shade of pink he knows they would.

“so,” penelope crosses her legs and leans back in her chair. her eyes haven’t left you, and spencer is thankful that he doesn’t have to face the intensity he sees in penelope. “i see your dream’s coming true, love bug,” she says to you, and spencer sees you bite your thumbnail to try and hide your smile.

you finally look at spencer, and he feels his stomach flutter. “i really, really like you spencer,” you say to him to finish off your interrupted conversation.

“oh yeah,” penelope adds, nodding excitedly, “she really does, doctor.”

a/n: thank you for reading <3

#spencer reid #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #my fic #mgg #matthew gray gubler

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headkiss · 2 years

Text

single thread

part 1, part 2, part 3

pairing: spider-man!steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: steve has a big secret and convinces himself he needs to stay away from you to keep you safe. that’s tough to do when you’re his neighbour.

word count: 8.2k

warnings: spider-man!steve au, some violence (r is attacked and a pocket knife is mentioned but nothing major happens), blood/injuries, strangers/sort of friends to lovers (ish?)

a/n: i really liked writing this one and i hope u guys like it too!!! spidey!steve is something i’ve wanted to try for a while and here it is!!!! he’s my baby <3

/ᐠ(๏‸๏)ᐟ\

When Steve moved to Indianapolis, not once did he think he’d get bit by some radioactive spider and gain super powers. Yet, here he is, swinging through the city like something out of some comic book. Sometimes he doesn’t even believe it’s real, and it’s his life.

On his way home, he spots his building easily, the route embedded in his head. The corners to turn, the spots to shoot his webs.

Stuck to the wall beside his window, he tries to open it and realizes he left it locked. “Idiot,” he grumbles to himself.

With a groan he jumps down, landing in the alley. He throws his clothes over his suit and makes sure nobody’s around before slipping the mask off and into his bag. For once, he uses the actual door to enter the building.

He opts for the stairs and when he makes it to his floor he sees you in the hallway. He resists the urge to go back down and wait a couple of minutes.

His door is across from yours, and when he walks over, you’re quick to send him a smile and a ‘hello.’ He nods at you and faces his door, unlocking it quickly and going inside.

It’s not that he doesn’t like you, it’s that he doesn’t want to involve people in his life when it’s gotten so complicated. He has Robin in the city and that’s about it. And he already worries enough about her. If he’d met you pre-bite, things would be much different.

He’d return your kind smiles and greetings, he’d tell you when he likes your outfit or thinks your hair looks really nice (which is pretty much every time he sees you, even when you think it’s awful).

He’d rather not put you in any danger, though, so he doesn’t. He just thinks you’re pretty and keeps it to himself.

You don’t know any of that, however, so you’re convinced that Steve doesn’t like you and you have no idea why. Every time his only response is a nod or a limp wave, you wait until he’s out of sight to frown, to scrunch your eyebrows.

You try to think about what you might’ve done.

You first met Steve when you moved into the building, your hair held away from your face with a clip, baby hairs sticking to your damp forehead, and your sweatshirt hanging off your shoulder. Not your best look.

He must’ve heard the thump of boxes hitting the ground, the mumbled curses you kept uttering. Knuckling at his tired eyes, he opened his door and peeked his head into the hallway.

“What the-”

He shut right up when you turned around, smiling (almost wincing) at him.

“Hi,” you introduced yourself, and he repeated your name so quietly you didn’t even hear it. “Sorry about the noise. I have a lot of stuff.”

He nodded, looking at the few boxes in the hall, “you’re moving in?”

“Yeah.”

“You need some help?”

“Seriously?” He half nodded, half shrugged. “That would be great. Thank you so much.”

“Sure. ‘M Steve, by the way.”

Steve. He’s pretty, you thought. Brown, fluffy hair and soft eyes, a mouth you think must look even better when he smiles.

He carried the heavier boxes without complaint or breaking a sweat. His arms flexed with the actions, but his face was completely unaffected. You were amazed. And probably stared at him too much.

When every box was inside your apartment, you’d thanked him, and he’d brushed it off saying it was no problem and went back inside his own place.

No problem, like he didn’t carry box after box for you because you couldn’t afford movers.

Now, with your back against the inside of your door after seeing him in the hallway, you replay that meeting once again. You can’t figure out what you did. Worse, you think, maybe you didn’t do anything at all and you’re just someone who’s easy to dislike.

Maybe it wouldn’t matter so much if he wasn’t so good looking. If he didn’t make you nervous whenever his eyes glanced over you, if you had actual friends to occupy your time, if you didn’t want him to like you so bad.

If, if, if.

You try to stop thinking about it and pick up the book you’d left on your coffee table. You have to reread passages, distracted and unfocused.

The bookstore’s been slow today.

You’ve been keeping yourself as busy as possible, even with an empty store. Dusting shelves, re-organizing sections that looked fine before, switching displays around. Eventually you gave in and sat behind the counter with a book, watching people pass by the front windows.

The sun set at some point, sinking behind buildings and leaving the city lit by streetlights and warm glows seeping through windows.

As boring as it can be, you wouldn’t be doing much different if you were at home. Finding things to do to pass time, sitting around aimlessly. At least here, you get paid for doing it.

When it’s time to close up you’re not sure if your sigh is from relief or disappointment. You’re lonely often, but it’s harder to ignore it when you’re all alone at home, no people around at all, even if they’re mostly just passing by on the sidewalk.

You go through the list, sweeping, setting the alarm, shutting off the lights, and locking the door.

The night air is cool, light wind blowing at your cheeks, ruffling your hair. The usual sounds surround you. Honking horns and tires rolling against pavement, indistinguishable voices and the click of the bookstore door locking.

You keep your keys in your hand while you walk home, one of them sticking up between your knuckles. Just in case.

One foot in front of the other, again and again, you walk along the sidewalk. Your footsteps a steady rhythm, hands tucked in your pockets to keep them warm, head bent to avoid making eye contact with any other pedestrians.

Only a couple of minutes from your place, you can hear someone walking along behind you. You shake your head, telling yourself they’re probably just headed in the same direction.

That reassurance disappears when the stranger whistles at you.

You don’t look up, you don’t turn around, you just keep your head down and walk faster, your heartbeat speeding in your chest. You’ve seen stories of what can happen to someone walking home alone. You never thought you’d have one of your own.

“Hey, cupcake! Where you going?” His voice is scratchy and scary. You pick up your pace even more.

At your ignorance, the man speaks again, “I’m talking to you.” His hand grabs your sleeve when he says it.

More afraid than you’ve ever been, you jerk your arm from his grasp and stupidly turn down an alleyway as a shortcut. It’s a horrible decision, but when you’re scared like that, it’s really hard to think straight.

You feel bad for being annoyed with people in horror movies. You get it now.

You’re almost jogging now, but it doesn’t deter the man. No, he catches up and grabs your wrist, twisting you around and pushing your back roughly into the brick wall of the building behind you.

Your wrist is slammed against it where he grabbed you, no doubt scratching your skin and making you flinch, your keys falling from your grasp.

This is it, you think. I’m gonna die here. Alone.

Your eyes water, a tear drips down your cheek and the man laughs in your face. You try to break away from his hold but he doesn’t let up. The only thing you manage is to knee him in the thigh, but it doesn’t do much.

“Nice try, cupcake. I’ve got you now.” he says. That’s when you notice the glint of a pocket knife in his hand.

“Please. Don’t,” is all you can say, trying and trying to get your arms out of the man’s tight hold. Tight enough to bruise.

Steve’s hair stands at the back of his neck, on his arms. Until now, his patrolling had been quiet. Easy fixes like an elderly woman not crossing the street quick enough or a man who’d locked his keys in his car.

Now, his instincts tell him this thing isn’t so small.

Without a second thought, he jumps from where he’d been perched at the ledge of a building and swings in the direction his senses take him. In your direction.

One second, you’re squeezing your eyes shut, thinking it’s the end, and the next, there’s the sound of someone landing in the alley and the thwip of a web.

The man is pulled off of you so fast you can barely keep up. There’s a flash of blue and red, hints of webbing being shot, and just like that, your attacker is knocked out and stuck to the opposite wall.

Your chest heaves and your back slides down the wall, landing on your bum on the pavement.

Steve turns around now that the man’s been dealt with and he thinks his heart stops for a second. He hadn’t realized it’d been you. You and your sweet smile, now turned to tears streaking your cheeks.

He thought, without him, you’d be better off. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he should’ve been keeping an eye on you. For now, he’s sort of glad he hasn’t spoken to you much, only because there’s a better chance you won’t recognize his voice.

Steve moves to crouch in front of you, “are you okay? Did he hurt you?” His hands hover by the sides of your face, like he’s holding himself back from touching you. Restraining himself.

Spider-man is in front of you. Spider-man with his suit and white-eyed mask who just saved your life is right there in front of you. So much for a slow day.

You shake your head and wipe your cheeks with your palms, “no. No, just- um, just my wrist, I think.”

“Can I look?”

You hold out your arm for him to see, and he moves his hands down, one tugging back your sleeve and the other holding your wrist gently. The fabric of his gloves brushes against your skin lightly, careful not to touch you where you’re hurt.

“Doesn’t look sprained. Just scraped,” he says. He looks up from your arm to your face, the eyes on his mask narrowing ever so slightly. “You’re sure you aren’t hurt anywhere else?”

He sounds genuinely worried. Like, you can hear it in his voice. It makes you want to cry all over again. You’d always thought that when Spider-man dealt with the bad guys, he’d just move on. Now, you can see that he cares a lot more than that.

You shake your head, “I’m fine.”

As fine as you can be after what just happened.

He nods and stands, offering you his hands to help you up. You pick up your keys and accept, slipping your hands into his. He pulls you up and squeezes your fingers before letting go.

“Will you let me take you home?” He asks.

You’re sort of in shock, and you’d rather not walk anymore. So, you agree.

He opens his arms for you, picking you up easily with a single arm wrapped around your waist. Your own arms go around his neck, legs tentatively wrapping around his waist.

“Ready?”

“Yeah,” you almost whisper.

He hears you loud and clear, your mouth close to his ear, his senses seemingly even more heightened than usual with you around.

“Hold on,” he says.

Then, you hear the whip of his webs and you’re in the air. Your limbs tighten around him.

“Oh my god. Oh my god.”

The wind rushes all around you. In your ears, your hair, your jacket. The city does, too, lights flickering by and buildings growing distant over his shoulder. You squeeze your eyes shut.

“You okay?” He asks over the wind.

“Maybe!”

You can feel his chest rumble with a chuckle. You wish you could’ve heard it, too.

He swings you towards your building when he remembers he’s not supposed to know where you live, “where to?”

You tell him, yelling over the noise not realizing he can hear you just fine normally. You don’t know about those superpowers, focused on the ones that have him transporting you home.

He gets you there quickly, landing just outside the front entrance. You stay wrapped around him for a second before you realize you’ve stopped moving. You remove yourself from him so quickly he has to steady you with hands on your upper arms so you don’t fall.

“You okay from here?” He checks, his head lowering to catch your gaze.

“Yeah. Thank you for…” Saving my life, making sure I’m okay, taking me home. Everything since you landed in the alley.

“Just doing my job.”

“Right. Thanks again,” you turn to head inside.

“Goodnight. And take care of your wrist!”

“Goodnight, Spider-man.”

Steve sees you more often after that night. He thinks the universe might be punishing him. Making him see you more, making him work harder to keep his distance.

He tossed and turned the entire night after bringing you home. He wondered if you were actually okay, trying to listen in case you were crying or having a nightmare. He worried so much more than he would have if it had been any other person and he hated it.

He saw you the next morning. You were checking your mail at the same time as him. Your sleeve had ridden up, exposing the scratches on your wrist from the brick wall, the faint bruises of fingerprints, your eyes tired.

“Are you okay?” He couldn’t help but ask, gesturing limply at your hand. Maybe if you give him a convincing yes, he can finally stop thinking about you so much.

You look down at your arm when he asks, quickly tugging your sleeve back down to cover it up. “Oh. It’s nothing.”

It’s not nothing. He knows it isn’t because he was there and he saw at least a part of what happened to you. He can’t let you know that, so he just nods and turns to his mailbox, listening to your footsteps as you walk out of the mailroom and back up to your apartment. His fingers twitch by his side.

Steve’s used to feeling protective over people, that’s not new, but to feel so protective over someone he barely knows hasn’t happened before. That night haunts him. Your tear-streaked face, the blooming bruises on your arm. He never wants to see you hurting again.

Maybe that’s why he starts returning your greetings in the halls, actually pausing to ask how you are, to smile back at you (they’re tight-lipped smiles, but it’s something).

He’s trying to be kind without getting any closer. No matter how much he wants to know you.

One day, as Steve’s heading out for the late shift, you’re just getting home from your own job, it seems. The clip in your hair has loosened since you put it in, strands falling freely around your face. For a second, Steve has the urge to tuck them behind your ears.

He pushes that down.

“Hi,” he says, his door shut behind him.

“Hi, Steve.”

“How are you?”

“Okay, thanks. Tired,” you fiddle with the frayed hem of your knitted sweater. “Had the opening shift today.”

“Ah. Any plans?”

“Probably just gonna take a nap.”

He nods. For a second you think he might’ve asked because he wanted to do something with you. It’s a stupid thought and you push it away.

“Have a good nap, then,” he gives you the close-mouthed smile that’s become more common between you, and heads towards the stairs.

The shift in his behavior towards you hasn’t been huge, but it’s been enough for you to notice it. He talks to you sometimes—always briefly, but still—he doesn’t turn away from you as soon as he gets the chance like he used to.

It’s confusing, but you’re happy about it anyway. Maybe he just needed some time to warm up to you a bit. Maybe he doesn’t hate you after all.

Inside your apartment, you change into sweats and practically collapse onto your couch, playing something mindless on the TV and pulling a blanket over yourself.

You really are tired, but it’s not only from working early. Lately, your dreams have been haunted by rough hands, dark alleys, and flashes of blue and red. You constantly feel like there are eyes on you, and when you walk home from closing shifts, you always search for a certain superhero at the tops of buildings.

You fall asleep at some point, and by the time you wake up, it’s dark outside.

Days seem to blur together. Repetitive and tiring all the same. The only thing you have to look forward to lately is your short conversations with Steve in the halls.

You’re not sure how many days later it is when you fall asleep on your couch again. This time, you’re woken up by noises coming from the hallway, right by your door. You get up slowly, feet hitting the cool floors as you walk over to your door.

You don’t know what time it is, but from the darkness of your apartment and the random game show that plays on your TV, you know it’s late.

Peeking through your peephole, you see Steve, fumbling with his keys and almost limping. You open the door.

“Steve?”

He shuts his eyes when he hears your voice, all sleepy and worried.

Like an idiot, he’d left his window locked again and had to use the door after a night of patrolling. A worse night than usual.

You gasp when he spins to face you, one of his eyes swollen shut, a cut on his eyebrow, his nose bleeding, and another cut on his lip.

“Oh my god,” you step forward a little, leaving your door open. “What happened?”

“I’m fine. Sorry for waking you.”

“You’re bleeding,” you say. “Come on. Let me help you.”

You grasp his arm lightly in both of your hands, and when he doesn’t protest, lead him into your apartment.

Steve’s suit feels tighter now, scratching his skin where it sits because he worries you’ll see it despite his layers on top of it. Still, he could use some help. And he can’t bring himself to be upset that you’re the one helping him.

“You don’t have to,” his voice is scratchy.

“I want to help you, okay?”

You bring him into your bathroom, making him sit on the toilet lid. You leave him there for a bit, coming back with some ice in a dish cloth.

“Here, for your eye.” He takes it from you and sucks in a breath when he presses it against his swollen skin.

“Thank you for doing this.”

“‘Course.”

You pull out your first-aid kit from under your sink, setting it on the counter and taking out what you need. You grab another cloth, wetting it in the sink.

“Here,” you stand between his legs, using a bent finger to tilt his chin up towards you. You wipe the dried blood from his skin in silence, Steve’s eyes shut, yours running all over his face.

You’re surprised he trusts you enough to let you do this. You wonder if this is why he’s so closed-off. If maybe he’s involved in something that gets him hurt. Often.

An underground boxing ring, debt with bad people, so many possibilities cross your mind, not a single one being the truth.

Once his face is as clean as it can be, you move on to disinfecting the cuts by his eyebrow and lip. “This might sting a little.”

“S’okay.”

His face pinches a little bit when you dab away at his cuts, but he doesn’t make any noise. All you can hear is his deep breaths and the small sound of his leg bouncing.

His nose hasn’t bled anymore since you cleaned it, and he keeps the ice over his eye the entire time. The cut by his lip looks much smaller when there’s no blood surrounding it.

Only his eyebrow needs a small bandage, which you grab and unwrap. “Last step.”

He feels you press the bandage on, your fingers lightly pushing the sides onto his skin to make sure it’s stuck. The process, he finds, hurts much less when you do it.

He misses your warmth when you step away from him. “Thank you.”

“Are you in trouble, or something? What happened to you?”

“It’s not a big deal. I swear.”

He hates lying to you, but he convinces himself it’s better this way. For your own good.

You don’t look convinced but you drop it. “Okay.”

“I should go,” he stands from where he’d been sitting and waivers a little, leaning on the counter.

“You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

“I’m fine, just got dizzy.”

“You can take the couch, if you want. It’s not a problem, really.”

“I live across the hall, I’m sure I’ll be fine.” He steps towards the doorway and has to pause again. “Or maybe I’ll stay. If you’re sure.”

“I wouldn't have offered if I wasn’t.”

You walk him to the couch, letting him lean on you whenever he needs to along the way. He sits down, and you go to get him a pillow and blankets.

This is the longest amount of time you’ve ever spent with Steve, and it pinches at your heart that he’s hurt during it. That he only needed help, not company. Even so, you fight a smile when you come back to the living room and find him laying down, already half asleep.

You spread the blankets over him. You take the pillow you’d brought him and guide him to lift his head. You’re convinced he’s asleep, so you let yourself push the hair off his forehead just once.

When you turn to go to your room, he catches your hand in his.

“Thank you, honey.”

Honey. That’s new.

Steve was already gone when you got up the next day. The only evidence of his visit the blankets he’d left folded up on your couch and the washcloth stained with his blood you used to clean him up.

Every time you pass his door you think about knocking and checking on him. About making sure he’s okay.

You’ve been worrying a lot more ever since the night you were attacked and saved by Spider-man, and that goes for more than just yourself. You worry about every person you see walking alone, about Steve being hurt again, about noises you might be imagining at night.

You probably look over your shoulder fifty times on your way home from the grocery store, your hands too full with your bags to be able to defend yourself if anything happens.

You breathe out when you make it in front of your door. You’re safe, you’re fine, you have to tell yourself.

In your rush to get your keys from your pocket, you drop two of your bags. “Shit.” Boxes and cans thump against the floor.

Steve hears everything, all of the time. He hears you curse and the sound of your stuff hitting the ground. He blames the fact that he heads to the door on boredom and nothing more.

“Need some help?” His voice startles you.

“Oh! Hey, Steve. It’s fine, just dropped some stuff.”

You set the rest of your bags down, kneeling to pick up things that fell out of the ones you dropped. Embarrassed, you keep your head ducked.

Steve can sense it, the way your pulse jumps a little around him. He doesn’t know whether to be glad or worried that he makes you nervous. Either way, he bends down beside you, helping you pick things up.

A bag of apples, a can of soup.

You both reach for the bags at the same time, fingers brushing before pulling away. Like there was a shock, a little spark where your skin met for the briefest second.

Before you can, Steve picks up the bags. “I got ‘em. You get the door.”

“I- Okay.”

You turn around and fumble with the lock, opening your door and walking inside. Steve follows you and puts your bags on your kitchen counter.

“Good?” He checks.

“Yeah. Thank you, Steve.”

“No problem, honey. Think of it as payback for you patching me up.”

Honey. Last time he said it, you chalked it up to his tired state. That excuse can’t be used this time, and the term warms you.

“Right,” you look him over. His injuries are almost gone and it’s only been a couple of days. At least, you think it has. “You’re feeling better?”

“You did a good job,” he says.

“I’m glad.”

He nods, rocks back onto his heels once, “so, um, I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah. Thanks again.”

He nods again and heads out, shutting your door behind him. With every conversation you have, Steve seems to warm up around you just a bit more. You don’t want to hope too much, so you push your hair from your face and turn to put your groceries away.

That evening, when you’re getting ready to cook dinner—a simple spaghetti and meatballs—you realize you’ve never seen Steve bring groceries into his apartment. Not once.

He must eat, you know that, but you wonder if he eats well, or enough. You cook for two without realizing until it’s finished. There’s extra of everything.

It’s probably stupid, maybe weird, but you make a bowl and head out into the hall. You knock on Steve’s door, three little taps of your knuckles against the wood.

He hears the knocks right away, listens closer to hear your voice mumbling to yourself. He knows your voice well. Sometimes, he can hear you humming to yourself in your apartment. He doesn’t try to listen in on you, but it’s like his ears subconsciously seek you out.

Steve opens the door and sees you in the same clothes as earlier, a shy smile on your face, and a bowl of spaghetti in your hands.

“Hey. What are you…?”

“I accidentally made too much food, and I thought maybe you’d want some?”

Actually, you made too much food for him, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Oh,” his heart does a stupid jump in his chest. You’re so kind and you don’t even seem to be trying. If anything, you seem to be embarrassed about it, like it’s a fault. “That’s really nice.”

“It’s just pasta. You want it?”

“Sure,” he takes the bowl from you. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. And I promise it’s not, like, poisoned or anything.” You wince at yourself, “I don’t know why I said that.”

“Well, I’m glad it’s not poisoned.”

You laugh awkwardly. “Okay. Um, enjoy.”

He stands in his doorway while you go back inside, his smile spreading as soon as your back is turned to him. He heads inside after you do, kicking his door shut.

He’s never smiled at a fucking bowl of pasta the way he does. It’s getting harder and harder to make himself avoid you, avoid that light in his chest that seems to brighten when he sees you.

He’s in trouble.

You bring him dinner often. At least twice a week, on days you don’t work or when you’re pretty sure he’s home.

He thanks you every time with a close-mouthed smile and brings back your dishes the next day, perfectly clean.

It feels like, over time, with every dish you bring him, a chip falls away from the walls he’s built up around himself. You can tell there’s a lot of them, and that they’re tall, but you don’t mind waiting for them to lower piece by piece. He’s worth that wait, you think.

You’re happy to cook for him—you’re cooking for yourself already anyway—and you’ve grown closer because of it. Something like friends, almost. The conversations seem to grow longer each time you see him.

Sometimes, on good days, he even invites you inside to eat with him.

You aren’t very close, but right now, he’s the only friend you have (besides your coworkers, who really only hang out with you because they have to). You’d think the way you get excited to see him would be sad if it weren’t for how nice he is, for how he makes you feel.

He listens to you when you speak, his eyes don’t stray, either. He always tells you he likes your cooking when you know it isn’t all that great. He even hugged you before you left his place once, his arms around your waist, hands running over your skin delicately before he pulled away.

“Thank you for dinner,” he’d said. “Again.”

“I like making it for you. Makes me feel useful.”

“Still. Thank you, honey,” he’d surprised you with it, moving close before you could really process it.

“Oh,” you’d stupidly let your arms hang limp for a second before wrapping them shyly around his neck. “I don’t think my cooking is this good.”

“It’s not just your cooking,” he’d told you.

He pulled away after that, leaving your body warm and your smile difficult to suppress.

You’re well aware you have a crush on him, but you don’t want to let it ruin the beginnings of the friendship you’ve built.

Steve’s not sure what the pull he feels towards you is, like one of his webs is tethered to you even though he can’t see it. It’s something his senses can’t tell him, no matter how much he focuses on them.

He thinks you’re the sweetest person and you don’t even try, all shy smiles and soft gestures. He likes how when you talk, he can really hear how you feel about something in your voice. He trusts you, despite not knowing you too well.

He also thinks you’re really pretty, but that’s not important.

Steve had another rough night patrolling. Some guy decided to play Wolverine—he’d made gloves with blades and everything—and scratched Steve pretty good on his upper arm. It hurts like a bitch, even though it’ll heal quickly. And he’ll have to sew up his suit.

He got the guy, which is something, at least.

Luckily, he actually remembered to unlock the window this time, so he’s able to sneak into his place with ease. He stripped out of his suit and took a shower before anything. Maybe not the smartest decision while actively bleeding, but he felt gross.

Afterwards, clad in plaid pajama pants and a plain cotton t-shirt, he searches his bathroom for his first-aid kit while keeping a towel pressed to his arm. A dark stain blooms on the fabric the longer he keeps it against his wound.

“Yes,” he cheers to himself when he finds the small white box.

He sits on the tile floors, back against his sink cabinets, and the kit in his lap. He opens it with one hand, the other too busy trying to slow the bleeding. When he gets it open, he’s disappointed with what he finds.

“Fuck,” he says. There’s barely anything left. A roll of gauze, a box of bandaids, and one tiny alcohol wipe. That’s it. He really needs to remember to refill this stuff.

He pushes himself to stand, winces when he has to use his injured arm.

There’s only one person close by that he knows for sure has a first-aid kit that has what he needs, because he’s seen it pretty recently. That person is you.

He hates that he’s dragging you into this again, that he’s gonna ask a favor of you that he really shouldn’t. One he doesn’t even think he deserves. He needs the help, though, so he walks to his door, into the hallway, and a few steps to your place across from his.

He knocks, his towel more red than its original color by now.

The sound doesn’t exactly wake you up. It’s late, and you’d been in bed, but you’d been having a hard time falling asleep. You were tossing and turning, staring at the ceiling.

You sit up, push your hair out of your face, and head to the door. You should, but you don’t even look to see who it is before opening it, keeping your body behind the door and peeking your head around. You certainly weren’t expecting this.

Steve stands in front of you, his hair damp and a mess, falling over his forehead. His face is pale and, when your eyes flicker down, you find that his arm is bleeding. A lot.

“Holy shit. What happened to you?”

He ignores your question. “Can you help me?”

You move away from the door. The cold air from the hallway combined with the way Steve’s eyes look down before quickly looking back at your face remind you of your attire. A sleep shirt and underwear.

“Fuck! Sorry,” you go to shut the door but remember that he’s literally bleeding. “Come in, you know where the bathroom is. I’ll just- um. Let me put some pants on.”

He’d laugh at the way you pretty much sprint into your room if he wasn’t so focused on the pain of his arm. He’d also be thinking a lot about the way your legs looked just then.

You meet him in the bathroom, legs now covered in a baggy pair of sweatpants. Steve’s sitting on the shut toilet just like he did the first time you helped him. You haven’t touched your first-aid kit since then, finding it exactly where you left it then.

“Sorry about that,” you tuck your hair behind your ears quickly before opening up the box, turning to him afterward. “Can I see?”

“Yeah.”

You take the towel from Steve’s hand, slowly moving it away from his wound to see how bad it is. Steve’s hands twitch where they sit atop his thighs. He’s holding himself back from touching you.

Three gashes break his skin. The outside of his arm, just below his shoulder.

“Do these need stitches?” You ask, the concern is clear in your voice, in how it shakes a bit. “Maybe you should go to the hospital-”

“No. Please. No hospital.”

“I don’t know how to do stitches, Steve. I don’t know if I can help you.”

“I don’t need stitches, I swear,” the look on your face makes him feel awful. The sadness in your eyes, the small frown you try to hide. “I ran out of bandages. That’s all I need.”

“Are you sure?”

He can’t tell you that his skin will mend on its own, that he’ll be fine in just a couple of days. “Positive.”

You nod and grab a different towel than the one he’d been using, pressing it against his arm to make sure the bleeding stops. He groans quietly when you do. “Sorry,” you whisper.

“I’m alright.”

When you’re almost 100% sure that the bleeding is done, you pull the towel away. You hold it under the sink, wetting a part of it that didn’t soak up his blood. You use it to clean away the dried blood on his arm, apologizing every time he sucks in a breath through his teeth, hissing at the pull on his cuts.

One of your hands holds his arm up, the other occupied with the towel. You’re bent close, stood between his legs, your loose hair tickling his skin.

“Steve?” You whisper, still focused on his gashed arm.

“Mm?” He hums, watching you help him with the most careful touch he’s ever felt.

“Who’s hurting you?”

“It’s nothing.” He says it in a way that tells you it really isn’t nothing. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

Maybe you don’t need to worry about him, but you do. You worry constantly. Anytime there’s a bandaid or scrape on his skin you wonder if it’s the same people that gave him that black eye and split lip weeks ago.

You worry because he’s so good. He’s a soft person under the invisible armor he protects himself with and he doesn’t deserve to be hurt. His skin is too delicate for it, his face too pretty.

You pull away and grab the roll of bandages you have in your kit. When you look at him again, his eyes are set on you, scanning your face.

“Please don’t worry about me,” his voice is quiet, and you hate the way it breaks on the first word.

He hates it, too.

“I’ll try my best,” you force a small smile at him, trying to lighten things as much as you can given the situation. You look back at his arm, wrapping it slowly. “Is that good?”

He looks at his arm, his wounds now covered with white wrappings. He looks back at you, “thank you, honey.”

“It’s not too tight?”

He shakes his head, standing when you step back to give him the space. You stand toe-to-toe, his head bent down to look at you, yours titled up.

“It’s perfect.”

Your breaths mingle in the air between you, growing thicker. Before you let yourself hope for something you shouldn’t, you move to the counter and grab the rest of the bandages you have.

“Here,” you hold them out to him, “for when you need to switch it.”

“You won’t need it?” He asks instead of telling you that by the time it needs switching, it won't be an open wound anymore.

“The most I use from that kit is the regular bandaids. I’ll survive without it.”

He takes the bandages from you, his hand brushing yours.

“I’m sorry for showing up the way I did.”

“I’d rather that than have you bleeding out in your apartment,” your eyes flick over to the bloody towels on your floor, your heart pinching in your chest. “If you need to talk to someone, or anything, I’m here.”

He leans closer, pushes a gentle peck into your cheek, and speaks with his lips still brushing your skin. “I don’t deserve your sweetness.”

He drops his head into your shoulder, just for a second, before moving away from you.

“Wha-”

“Bye, honey. Thank you,” he says, walking out of your bathroom.

You stand there, a hand lifting to press against your cheek in the spot his lips did. You pull it away and look at your fingertips, like you’d been expecting to see a physical residue of the kiss. Flecks of glitter, or the soft pink of the sky at sunrise.

You just see your skin, painfully normal.

After thinking and thinking and thinking, you determine that maybe Steve likes you more than you thought he did.

The way he calls you ‘honey’ in that voice of his, the softness of his eyes that he can’t hide no matter how cold he tries to keep his exterior, the way he kissed your cheek and let his lips linger when he spoke.

All of those things make you hope that maybe he likes you at least a little bit in the way that you like him, but if not, at the very least, he likes you more than you thought.

You think he tries to hold himself back from getting close to you at all, and you really don’t know why. All you know is that his shoulders were slightly slumped when he forced himself to leave after you'd bandaged his arm, after he told you he doesn’t deserve you.

There’s something in his life that makes him think that way and as much as you wanna know what it is, you hope that the best you can do is prove him wrong.

That’s one of the reasons you’re cooking dinner for two once again tonight. You also feel like, since this is sort of what brought you closer, the dinners are a tradition for you and Steve. Something completely yours.

It’s nice to have something like that with another person. You knew you were lonely, but you never noticed how much until you started talking to him more. With each meeting, the string between you both shortens.

You’ve never cooked this meal before. You’re extra attentive with it, tasting it to make sure it’s right, keeping your eyes on things closely to avoid burning it at all.

When everything’s done, Steve’s meal packed up nicely and your ponytail now a loose mess, you head to the bathroom to look at yourself in the mirror. The most you do is fix your hair before feeling silly for caring so much about your appearance.

He’s seen you tired-eyed and pantless. This is better than that, at least.

You haven’t brought Steve a meal since you patched him up and he thanked you with a kiss on the cheek and possibly, maybe, loaded words. You’ve seen him, yes, but this is different than a two minute conversation in a hallway or the mailroom.

It’s your way of checking on him.

Your door shuts with a click behind you, his meal in your hand as you step into the hall. You knock on Steve’s door in quick, small taps. You’re not sure why you’re nervous to be doing it this time.

The doorknob twists and you’re met with Steve’s smiling face. Like actually, fully smiling. You don’t think you’ve ever seen that from him before. Not like this. It’s like a beaming ray of sunshine, warm and beautiful.

You’d like to be the one to make him smile like that.

“Hi, honey,” he says. It’s then you notice his cheeks are slightly flushed, little pink blooms on his skin.

“Hey. I made you dinner again,” you hold the container up awkwardly to show him.

“You don’t have to keep making me dinner.”

“I like doing it.”

He nods. Steve knows that you do it as an excuse to see him, and if he were braver, or less concerned about involving you in his impossible life, he’d tell you that you don’t need to have food to knock on his door.

He’d tell you that you could knock whenever you wanted, that he’d happily open the door for you.

“Steve!” A voice—a female voice—calls from inside the apartment. “Who’s at the door?”

Fuck. Okay, he has a girlfriend. You probably interrupted something, you think, looking at his flushed cheeks, thinking about the smile he wore that most definitely was not for you.

You’re embarrassed for even thinking that he could like you, embarrassed for having read everything wrong, for hoping too much.

“Oh. You have company. I’ll just-” you pivot on your heel to leave and realize you’re still holding his dinner. You turn back around and hand it to him, awkwardly turning towards your door again and heading inside.

Steve stares at your door for a couple of seconds before going back inside. He sets his food on the counter and sits back on the couch.

“So, who was that?” Robin asks.

Robin, his best friend and the only person in the world who knows pretty much everything about him. Spider-man and all.

“My neighbor. She was bringing me dinner.”

“It was her? And you didn’t let me say hi!”

Yeah, Robin knows all about you. She knows that you make Steve dinner, that you’ve taken care of him without digging too deep for answers, that Steve thinks you’re the ‘prettiest girl ever.’ His words.

“She left pretty fast after you yelled.”

“Oh no.”

“What?”

“Nooo. I scared her off!” Steve is clearly very confused, so Robin huffs and continues, “she heard a girl’s voice in your apartment.”

“And?”

“God, you’re such a boy sometimes, it’s insane. She thought I was your girlfriend!”

“Why would that scare her off?”

“I know you don’t get out much, dingus, but seriously?” She literally facepalms. “She likes you! Why else would she be making you dinner and shit? She likes you and thinks you’re dating someone.”

“Oh. Oh. No, she doesn’t like me. Not like that.”

“You’re an actual dingus.”

Steve doesn’t want to think about that possibility because it’ll make it much, much harder to keep you at arms length. Though, even now, that arm is mostly bent, losing resistance.

“So what if she does like me? I can’t do anything with her.”

“Why not.”

“Because I’m Spider-”

“Spider-man, yes, I know. Who cares? You can't live your whole life ignoring every single romantic feeling you have because of that.”

“I don’t wanna drag her into this.”

“Did you ever consider that maybe she would want to be dragged into this?”

“I guess not.”

He goes quiet after that, and Robin, knowing him so well, drops the subject.

Steve thinks about what Robin said even after she leaves.

It’s hard for him to believe that you’d like him enough to worry that Robin was his girlfriend. You, a dream girl, liking him, with his unexplained injuries and past grumpiness towards you. There was no way.

But, on the slightest chance that it did matter to you, Steve decided he wanted to explain.

His crush on you isn’t something he should explore, isn’t something he wants to let grow because, despite what Robin says, his life is dangerous and you already worry about him enough without knowing that.

Still, the thought of you being upset because you think he isn’t single is enough to make him head across the hall.

While Steve wondered what he’d say, you stewed in your embarrassment. You’d sat on your couch in your sweats and tried to forget the girl's voice or the smile on Steve’s face. You were unsuccessful.

The knocks on your door have become a familiar sound—there’s only one person who actually comes to your apartment.

You walk over and muster up a smile that you hope looks genuine, “Steve, hey.”

He scratches the back of his neck and looks at you, “can I come in?”

“Oh, yeah. Sure.”

You move aside as he walks in, shutting the door behind him. The apartment feels smaller with him in it, you think. His presence takes up space for you, it draws your focus.

“Thanks again for dinner,” he says.

“You’re welcome-”

“That wasn’t my girlfriend, by the way. The voice you heard,” he cuts you off because he worries that if he doesn’t say it now, he never will. “I mean, she’s my friend, and a girl, but we’re not dating. Her name’s Robin, she’s my best friend, that’s it. Promise.”

You’re not sure whether to be even more embarrassed at how obvious you were with your concern, or to be relieved that he’s not taken like you thought. You settle for a bit of both.

“You don’t have to- I know I was weird earlier but you don’t have to explain yourself to me,” you tell him, tugging at the ends of your sleeves with your fingers.

“I wanted to make sure you knew.”

There could be a lot of weight in that sentence, if you let yourself look hard enough.

Rather than reply you confess, “you know, I used to think you hated me. Or, didn’t like me. Before we talked and stuff.”

Steve’s standing really close to you. Has he always been this close? You can smell his soap and feel the light puffs of air leaving his lips. It’s almost dizzying—like, if someone poked your shoulder, you might fall over.

You notice a lot about him from this close, especially when there’s no blood on his face. He has the lightest dusting of freckles over his nose, his eyelashes are dark, framing his brown eyes.

Steve reaches out with a hand to link his fingers with yours, loosely and slowly, like he doesn’t want to startle you. They fit together easily. His other hand brushes his knuckles against your cheek before cupping it gently in his palm.

His touch is so gentle, so much less guarded than his usual actions. You blink up at him and without even thinking, you push yourself into his touch, just a little.

“I never hated you,” he says. A murmur between your mouths.

“Oh,” is all you can say.

Steve’s strong, inhumanely so, but he isn’t strong enough to stop himself from kissing you.

The first brush of his lips on yours is so light that you think you might be dreaming. When you don’t pull away, he kisses you more firmly, his lips a little bit chapped but still soft as they land on yours.

You haven’t kissed a lot of people but you’ve never felt one like this. One that you’ve been dancing around for longer than you ever realized.

Steve’s hand squeezes yours, his thumb running back and forth against your cheek, his mouth moving with yours like a dance. He probably shouldn’t have let himself kiss you, because there’s no way he can fight whatever this is after feeling your lips on his.

He pecks you once, and twice, before pulling away. If he kept kissing you, the single thread left holding him back from you would’ve snapped. A clean break.

He leans his forehead against yours, and whispers so quietly you would’ve missed it had he not been so close to you. You could almost feel the words being spoken, lips still a breath apart.

“Never hated you.”

/ᐠ(๏‸๏)ᐟ\

if you enjoyed, please reblog and/or let me know what you thought!!! it would mean a whole bunch <3

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randombush3 · 1 year

Text

you made your mark on me

mapi león x reader

summary: you fuck up the arrangement

words: 2497

notes: it’s kinda rushed and sad but we move and we allow it 😜

also i’ve decided that i like mapi and ingrid too much to write for them because they’re too perfect 😩😩😩😩

requested by my fav @xsophiesx

Mapi has been your best friend for as long as you can remember. Longer, even.

Through earthquakes and mistakes and times where you shouldn’t have done something you did, she has seen the best in you, and made you believe it too.

She makes you feel loved. In a friendly way.

But, recently, those feelings have shifted; made way for something of a different kind. Lust. Desire. The urge to ruin a friendship with reckless abandon, because your best friend is too attractive to resist. It helps that Mapi agrees. Agreed. Invited you over, peeled back the years of support and love, took you to her bed and made you see just how much a person could worship you. Should worship you.

She tells you such, over and over, kissing scars she has helped to heal. You do the same, forgetting how bad of an idea it is. Because, since that first night, Mapi has become more than a friend, more than the woman who held you when you cried. Deep down, you know that she has always been more than that, but it’s Mapi’s casualness that makes you think she is only extending your friendship slightly. Friends with benefits. Mapi knows how to do that.

She teaches you how to do it, too.

Your teammates are oblivious to the signs, aware of your affection for each other, thinking nothing of how the simplest of touches have had their meanings completely altered. You are certain that you are grateful they do not know, but, as your skin burns under Mapi’s firm hold, you wish that they did. It feels like you are dreaming. Maybe their awareness would confirm that this is real.

In this crowded room, Mapi only seems to have eyes for you. “She looks really good tonight,” Alexia comments off-handedly, not thinking anything of it. Not knowing that Mapi’s fingers are itching to tear the sequined material of the, frankly, criminal dress you are wearing tonight, not aware of how she wants to unwrap you like a highly-anticipated birthday present.

You feel good tonight. The alcohol in your system has made you forget about the stress of the season, and Pina has coaxed you into dancing with her, which frees up your body like you are finally able to take a breath of fresh air.

“I only have pretty friends,” Mapi replies, earning a flick on the arm from Alexia, who finds taking most compliments to be an impossible task.

As the two women watch you, hair wild, eyes closed, one of them thinks about how lucky she is to have you in her life. Under her clothes, she sports an indention of you. A ghost of earlier nights. Memories. A golden tattoo.

…

It’s a bit later on in the night when you approach your best friend.

Mapi is now equally drunk, though she steers clear of the dance floor.

You are apprehensive at first, the silence between you tense as she takes in how the dress has ridden up your thighs and you take in the definition of her abs displayed by the lack of fabric covering them.

Mapi decides that her patience has been more than commendable, and breaks first. “Let’s go,” she all but growls, reaching out to grasp your shaking hand, tugging you along with her to the exit.

Desperately waiting for her to say more, tell you how beautiful you look, confirm that she wants you too, you allow her to lead the dance of sneaking away from your friends, finding the route home, unlocking her apartment while your lips kiss her neck.

Once inside, she backs you against the nearest wall, relentless in her assault. Though she hasn’t spoken, you hear the thrum of her heartbeat, smell the scent of her hunger. Her desire for you.

“I need you,” you gasp against her lips, still combatting her silence.

Her hands rest on your hips, holding you in place so that you can only squirm under the force of… What is it? Lust?

“I only bought this dress so you could take it off.”

Your confession makes her stop.

Your panting stills, as does the blur of a heated moment.

Mapi looks positively ravenous.

“Y/n.” You bite your lip.

You don’t want her like a best friend.

…

It hits you like a truck.

Well, two trucks.

The first, a raging hangover, the alcohol still in your body now some concoction of toxins.

And the second, the fact that something may have slipped out last night.

There was a lot going on. The dress was ruined, torn in two by eager hands. Mapi seemed different.

Hours later, she was still going, though you were certain her initial lust had been sated. And it got sloppy and emotional and intimate. And you may have told her something that would be completely normal to say in any other context.

What’s worse, you can’t remember whether or not she said it back.

Opening your eyes to the soft morning light, you groan as you roll over in Mapi’s bed, anxiety settling in your stomach. She wakes up before you – has been doing so since your sleepovers involved more clothes and less kissing – but you are unsure if she has abandoned you for a morning run. Because, if you did tell her you loved her last night, surely Mapi will regret ever kissing you in the first place.

The thought of losing her is worse than her not loving you back. You feel nauseous.

“Hello.” You jolt upright, sheets clutched to your bare chest. Mapi leans on the wooden frame of her bedroom doorway, arms folded in front of her, a smirk on her lips at the sight of you. You are so incredibly breath-taking, and she is glad to be able to see you like this.

Naked, in her bed. And you’re hers. Sort of.

“Mapi…” you start, unsure of the proper protocol for this situation. It’s not the first time you have slept together, yet it feels more awkward than that. The fact that she might regret this, might never want to see you again, gnaws away at your words, leaving you speechless. “I was drunk.”

“So was I.”

“I didn’t mean what I said.” Her brows furrow, and there is a brief moment of sheer panic in which you think you only imagine the words slipping through your lips. But, in truth, Mapi is wondering why you are lying to her. Because someone who tells you that they love you, whispering it on repeat as though it is the only sentence in the world that matters, must be telling the truth. “A-and, I mean, this was clearly a mistake. I don’t think we should carry on. Maybe we should just be friends?”

You don’t notice the implication of your words, but Mapi’s heart is too busy breaking for her to argue. “Yeah,” she replies, dejected. “Yeah, if that’s what you want.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, gathering your clothes from their heap on the floor, hastily pulling on your underwear. She looks at the hoodie she had set out on the bed for when you woke up, having wanted you to be comfortable before she asked you if you would like to get coffee with her later. Because, when you told her that you loved her, and she had instantly said she loved you too, she thought she could finally make the move she has been too pathetic to make.

Clearly, she was wrong. You said it because that’s what people are meant to say during sex, most-likely. Mapi feels like an idiot for even thinking she would be good enough for you.

…

Alexia and you are practising free kicks after training when the captain catches your frown lasting longer than usual as you send the ball soaring hectares wide of the net. It’s been a few days since you left Mapi’s apartment, and you haven’t spoken to her since.

It’s killing you to lose your best friend like this, especially when you have no one but yourself to blame.

You kick the grass in frustration as Sandra saves your next attempt, and it is then that Alexia decides to say something. She signals for the goalkeeper to rehydrate far away enough to be out of earshot, and then places both hands on your shoulders, grounding you before the tears can well up in your eyes.

She doesn’t have to ask you what is wrong, because it comes spilling out as soon as you open your mouth to tell her that you are fine.

And she listens, wondering how two of the most compassionate women she knows have managed to fuck such a simple thing up.

For Alexia, the solution to this world-ending problem is obvious: tell her how you feel. “She feels the same, you know. She always has,” your captain says matter-of-factly, dropping her hands to her sides to pull you into a hug. “I can’t believe you two fucked before realising you have been a couple this whole time.” Her chuckle is not helpful, and she squeezes you one last time before releasing your tense body.

“Sorry?” you ask, not quite sure you heard her properly. You wipe your eyes and take in a deep breath, resolving to either get over Mapi or suck it up. Because, yeah, it’s a little embarrassing.

“Mapi loves you, idiota. Can you not tell?”

…

You go home to think about it.

Not home home, because your parents live too far away to fit in with your schedule, and not Mapi’s place, which is more comforting than your own four walls, but the apartment you bought when you decided to extend your contract at Barcelona.

In all honesty, you rarely spend time here. If you’re not at training, you’re out, and when you want to cuddle, there has always been an open door with a comfier sofa and better snacks. That door must be locked now.

Mapi can’t even look at you.

Fuck.

Have you woken up just in time? Or is it too late?

The words have already been said, though you still don’t recall them coming from her. Deluding yourself that you don’t love her is insane, because there is not a single emotion Mapi hasn’t made you feel. Hell, she even seems to invent new ones.

If you tell Mapi the truth and she doesn’t feel the same, there has to be a way to get through it. Maybe you simply take a step back, and don't spend as much time together. Stay in groups. Never go over to each other’s homes, or get trapped in small spaces.

It doesn’t occur to you that Mapi could love you. You are already planning how to salvage the friendship.

…

No tears left to cry and a speech rehearsed in your head, you are almost a tornado tearing through your apartment, set on getting to Mapi before any more damage is done.

You fling your door open, keys in one hand and a jacket in the other, and rush out to fix your mistake.

The figure waiting for you grunts as you fly into her, colliding with her, knocking the air from her lungs, and your apology is hurried out as to not waste time. Until you recognise the vanilla perfume. And the eyes that examine you with caution.

“Alexia told me that you wanted to talk?” she questions. Mapi, being the thoughtful person she is, assumed it would just be easier for her to go to you. It’s not like she has anything else to do without you occupying her spare time. “If you’re going out, I could come back another time. Or was she…” She takes in your horrified expression. “She lied to me.”

You hate how her voice cracks. How her shoulders slump.

But you are too stunned to say anything.

“I’m sorry. I’ll go.”

“Don’t.” You can’t bear to do this again: one of you leaves and the other’s world crumbles. “Alexia did lie, though.”

“Oh. Do you want to talk anyway?”

“What did Alexia say to you?”

Maybe. Just maybe.

Mapi shrugs. “To tell you how I feel.”

“And… how is that?” It feels as though the world has split in half, and this could go one of two ways. You force yourself to not cross your fingers.

“You are my best friend.”

The lump in your throat chokes you, and you want to disappear into the ground you are standing on. “Yeah. You’re mine, too.”

“No, no. Y/n.” She grabs your hands and holds them tightly, trying to get you to look at her. But you can’t. It’s too hard. “You didn’t let me finish.” She takes your silence as a sign to go on. “You’re my best friend, but recently I’ve realised that you mean so much more than that. I met you and you… you made a mark on me that has defined me as yours. And– And I love you. I have always loved you. I’m in love with you.”

“But…”

“I said it back!” she continues, exasperated. “Do you not remember?”

You shake your head. “You couldn’t love me. It’s not possible.”

“Well, it is, because I do.” She waits. She waits for what feels like an eternity, hopeful that you are going to say it back. That this will be easy as Alexia made it out to be. “You told me it was a mistake, but you never denied its meaning. You never took it back,” she urges.

“But I– Me? You love me?”

Mapi, who is so pure, who is good, who knows how to make anyone feel special, cannot just love you. She holds so much passion in her heart. She must be confused.

“Why wouldn’t I love you?” she replies indignantly.

“Because I love you too, and things don’t usually happen for me like this.”

And she laughs, grinning at you like she has caught you out. Like she has tricked you into saying yes to doing something you were reluctant to do.

“Well, soak it in, Y/n.”

She kisses you with unveiled meaning, and your knees almost give out.

…

When you tell Alexia about Mapi’s new label in your life, she decides to take full credit for it.

“I’m a genius,” she claims, wrapping her arms around the both of you, pleased to be the first to be told about the development. Three months down the line, and you couldn’t be happier that you get to kiss your best friend whenever you want. “Friends with benefits and the benefits are me officiating your wedding, right?”

“That would be so cool!” Mapi agrees with a grin. She wipes it off her face when she catches your expression. Her childish excitement is replaced with a gruff, serious clearing of her throat. “I mean, it would be, but it’s not going to happen.”

“Y/n, you’re making her less fun.”

“All your fault, genius.”

#mapi leon #mapi leon x reader #woso x reader #woso

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bahablastplz · 2 months

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All in | Chapter 4.5 (Jeongin)

pairing: Lee Felix x f!reader (mafia au)

summary: You didn't know what you were getting yourself into when you started dating Yang Jungwon, notorious mafia boss. Your life gets flipped upside down when you're found beaten and bloody by SKZ, the rival mafia group, and you're quickly integrated into their lives. What will happen when you try to leave your old life behind and start anew?

chapter summary: Jeongin has only ever wanted one thing. How did Jeongin come to join SKZ?

warnings: please see series masterlist for all warnings

series masterlist ~~ series taglist ~~ main masterlist

Jeongin:

The day I told my mother that I wanted to go to fashion school was the same day that my braces had been removed. Though I’d had a passion for clothing and having a great appearance my entire life, fashion school was never really in the cards for me. It was something I had been thinking about for a while, but when I talked to my mother in the car on the way home from the orthodontist…

“Your father and I put down the down-payment for university today,” she said. I remember not wanting to have that conversation, especially then. I was still in pain from the procedure and still in a mood.

“Okay,” I replied.

“You need to declare your major by the end of the week. Your father and I think that with your biology grades, you would fare pretty well going the science route.” Anxiety bubbled in my gut and I started speaking before I could stop myself.

“I don’t want to go the science route, mom,” I told her. She furrowed her brow in confusion and I hated the way her face looked. I could already tell my words were about to disappoint her. “I want… I want to be a fashion designer.” She laughed. She fucking laughed in my face. And as much as I hated being emotional, especially in front of her, tears streamed down my face. She didn’t notice. I wiped them away too fast.

“You aren’t going to pursue fashion,” she spat. “Don’t tell that to your father. He’s going to think you might be gay or something. He will not be as kind as I am about this.”

The words struck like a knife to the gut. I didn’t speak. I couldn’t because I knew she was right. My father would never let me pursue fashion, he would sooner disown me. God forbid I do something that could come across as slightly feminine, I would be a disgrace. And so, we never talked about it again.

I started school that fall, after I walked in my high school graduation. I had been enrolled as a biology major, much to my dismay. The first semester went swimmingly. I excelled in all of my courses, just as my parents had anticipated. But on the side… I tried not to squash my own dreams. I filled up journal after journal with design ideas. I never showed them to anybody, but I took great care in what I wore. People started to notice. People even complimented me on my outfits, and without my parents there it was possible to imagine enrolling in fashion school and becoming successful.

The first day of my second semester, I switched my major. I didn’t consult my parents about it but I started attending the classes I had always wanted to. I had never been happier in my life, actually. I struggled a little more than I did in my science classes at first, as the other students had a semester’s worth of knowledge above me, but it didn’t take me long to catch up. I excelled, even, and professors told me that I had the capacity to go far.

One day when I showed up to my course, the door was locked. Rattling the handle, I remember beung confused. Why hadn’t the professor unlocked the door yet? I wasn’t late, was I?

“Jeongin,” I heard the professor say as he opened the door. “I received word from the dean and I regret to inform you that you aren’t enrolled in this course anymore.” What? He saw my confusion before he continued speaking. “Your tuition payment has been declined. Your parents have contacted the school and have let us know that you are no longer allowed to attend.”

I knew immediately what had happened. I didn’t even bother to check my phone, as I knew not to expect any messages. My parents, they were just like that. Passive-aggressive, cold and distant whenever they wanted to be. They wouldn’t have returned my calls if I had tried to reach out, so I didn’t even bother.

A notice was put up on my dorm room that I had 48 hours to vacate from the premises. I said goodbye to my roommates and to my friends. My life as I knew it was over. It was great while it lasted.

Packing up one suitcase, I found myself couch-hopping for quite some time. As long as they would let me. My parents had cut my funds off completely and I had been left with nothing. My phone bill was no longer being paid, which was to be expected. It was then for the first time in my life that I knew what it was like to lose everything. In fact, I had never not had everything. I grew up pretty wealthy and privileged, knowing my parents would always be there to take care of me and provide for me.

The only thing able to sacrifice that security was my dream.

I knew I needed to start making money. Somewhere deep down I had the thought that maybe if I made enough money I could find a way to enroll again on my own. I had a buddy who encouraged me to start selling drugs with him, and while I was hesitant at first I realized just how much money it made. For someone who was without a phone, had no means to get food and had no apartment, it sounded like a pretty good deal. I had already lost everything. What more could have been taken at that point?

I started selling drugs and living on the streets. I was only 18 years old. I had never touched the drugs myself, but did whatever questionable job that I had to do in order to make as much money as I could. The people I ended up surrounding myself with… they were questionable, to say the least. Sometimes I ended up feeling unsafe around them but I put up a fake smile and fought back the voice in my head that told me to run.

One day I ran into him. The first thing I noticed about him was his outfit. He looked well put together and jealousy had bubbled in my gut ferociously. The man was a few inches shorter than me with long, beautiful blonde hair and feminine features. He walked with confidence and dominance that I had never seen someone possess. He looked border-line angelic but the deep timbre of his voice surprised the crap out of me.

“You seem like a good kid,” he said. It was the first time since I left school that anybody had tried to look into the deeper qualities of my personality, to see past me for what I am. A drug-dealer. With just one look, the man seemed to have made a decision.

“Your gang is getting raided tonight,” he said. “My team and I. We’re coming in here and fighting you for all you’re worth. We’re going to win. You know they’re a bunch of good for nothing scum, right?” I nodded my head solemnly. “You should leave,” he advised.

“I have nowhere else to go,” I told him. “I’ve been disowned. This is all I am. This is all I have now.”

“Do you really believe that?” he asked. I shrug my shoulders. “If you get the Hell away from here tonight, I will find you again. Me and my team… SKZ. If you want to, you can join us,” he said. “I’ll introduce you to my leader.”

When he left I was trembling though I didn’t know why. All he left me with was his name, Felix. He seemed good enough, and for some reason I trusted him. I left everything behind, the people that integrated me into their gang, all of my money and all of my drugs. I hauled ass out of there. By the sound of the police sirens, I could tell that Felix was right. I did the right thing by leaving. The next day I heard that some of my gang had ended up dead, others ended up seriously injured and in custody of the police. A thought had flashed over my mind, of me dying there that night with the others. My parents would go to my memorial service and grieve for their dead son and they have no fucking right to do so. That’s not how I wanted it to end. I will end up at the top of the fashion industry and make them feel sorry that they had ever doubted me.

Felix found me again, just like he promised. He introduced me to his leader, Bang Chan. The guy was intimidating but he extended his trust to me which I appreciated. All I needed to do was show my undying loyalty towards him and he would give me food, money and a place to stay? It seemed too good to be true.

“Jeongin, I’d like to see you in my office,” he said to me one day. It had been almost a year since I decided to join SKZ. When I joined at first, I didn’t exactly realize what I was getting myself into. The mafia, that is. But the way Felix described it to me… ‘We’re going to make the world a better place.’ It didn’t sound all that bad even if the means were unconventional.

“Yes?” I asked him, sitting down in the wooden chair facing his desk.

“What do you desire above all else?” he had asked me. His question had caught me off guard.

“May I be frank?” I asked. I wasn’t sure what his intentions were when asking me that, but by that point I had started to become comfortable. Felix, Seungmin, Jisung… They’d become my friends. People I could turn to. The first ones to support me and even ask to see my designs, which I showed them willingly.

“I want nothing more,” he responded.

“I want to go to fashion school,” I admitted. “I’ve always dreamt of it. I tried to pursue it, but that dream tore me apart from everybody I had ever loved. I need to go now. I need to prove them wrong, but I want to prove myself right.”

He mulled over my words. “Very well,” he had said. “I would like for you to sign a contract. If you stay here with us for another three years and show your complete honesty and loyalty, at the end of your contract I will pay your tuition in full.”

My heart skipped a beat at his words. Was this the opportunity that I had been waiting for? “You’re not serious,” I had said.

“Dead,” he smiled. “I’m an honest man, Jeongin. You prove to me that you’re one of us, I’ll make it worth your while. Do we have a deal?”

I thought of the things that he had made me do up until now. Murdering, infiltration, arms dealing… even running some of the more sketchier businesses in the area, because if SKZ is the one in charge of them, then we know everyone is safe and protected and there’s no dirty business happening underneath our noses. Everything that we’ve been doing, it’s for the greater good.

‘Do I really want to be stuck doing this?’ I had thought. Is signing a contract a good idea? I thought of my mother laughing in my face just a few years prior when I had told her about my dream for the first time. That young, bright-eyed boy wanted his mother to support him, to tell him that he was going to do great things and that she would be there for him no matter what. Instead, she had laughed in his face and made sure first-hand that his dreams would crumble and burn before his eyes. My parents had not even contacted me one time since I had left school.

Instead there was a man right in front of me offering me everything I had ever wanted. I would do it, no matter the cost.

“Deal.”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

taglist: @shuporanporang ; @purp13st4r ; @eurydiceofterabithia ; @heartsbyandra ; @thicccurls ;

@rylea08 ; @the-sweetest-rose ; @oddracha ; @kapelover ; @goldenmellow ;

@zerefdragn33l ; @uhh-awkward-rightt ; @astudyoftimeywimeystuff ; @kaleigh-2002 ; @thatonexcgirl ;

@mindfreecreator ; @linoalwaysknows ; @velvetmoonlght ; @minahaeyo ; @crystalchuuu ;

@hash2013 ; @skzswife ; @b0bbl3s ; @thecutiepieme ; @bear8585 ;

@moss-the-man ; @softkisshyunjin ; @sylveonitesworld ; @m00njinnie ; @nicoleparadas ;

@starsofasteria ; @klopez01 ; @luvlinos ; @hyunjinnnnnnnnnnnnnn ; @skz-akira ;

@boi-bi-ahaha ; @l33bang24 ; @hermione640 ; @gal82 ; @b-chansbbygirl ;

@kayleefriedchicken ; @notsojourni ; @hogwartslife64 ; @stilltrynafuckingtumble ;

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gurugirl · 1 year

Text

Mint Chocolate Chip | Check-in 9*

Summary: Based on this ask. You and Harry take a much needed vacation.

A/N: Enjoy this smutty fun beach vaca featuring a bit of jealousrry. 6k words (went a little overboard).

Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, this is kidnapper!harry x reader and so this might not be your thing, smut, possessiveness and jealousy, punishment, and plenty of fluff.

Mint Chocolate Chip Masterlist

Harry had gotten spooked pretty badly when you were recognized at the restaurant and then when you both saw your face on the news on your birthday. He knew you would just tell anyone who questioned you that you were with him willingly. But that didn’t make him feel a whole lot better about it. He didn’t like the questions or the prying. You two had been in your little bubble in his house for long enough that you’d both gotten used to the way things were.

But he couldn’t keep you trapped inside forever.

Well, actually he could if he wanted. He had all the means to do it and he had your complicity. Your loyalty.

And in many ways that all appealed to him. Locking you inside and never letting you out again after that disaster of a dinner outing and knowing your face had been on the news and people were looking for you.

Making you happy, though, was also important to him. You’d proven your devotion to him. You weren’t going anywhere. You had many chances to break free and run away during the random days when he was not in the house for hours at a time. You were allowed in the backyard and could even simply unlock the front door and walk away. But you were always there waiting for him when he returned.

Which was why he wanted to show you his gratitude.

It was time to take you on a vacation. To a place somewhere you could both be out in the open and where no one would recognize you.

He’d researched places and vacation types. States with pretty mountains and cabin retreats. Beaches in California and Florida.

“What do you like better? Going to the beach? Or like a big city? Mountains?”

You looked up from the book you were reading. You had her legs draped over Harry’s thighs as you rested on the couch after dinner. He had been intently looking at something on his phone.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean for vacation. You and me. I was thinking we could go somewhere for a week. What do you like best for a vacation?” Harry reworded.

You put your book down and slid your legs off Harry, sitting up straight as youx` faced him, “You want to take me on a vacation?”

“Of course, I do. Think it would be good for us both.”

The idea of going on a vacation with Harry worried you a little. You definitely would have enjoyed laying on a beach somewhere with him and eating seafood under a palapa but you were worried about being spotted. About Harry getting upset or nervous. Honestly, you worried more about him than you did yourself, which was crazy when you thought about that with a rational mind.

“Um… I would love to go to a beach. See the ocean. But how can we do that?”

Harry knew you couldn’t fly anywhere. He was certain the moment you got to the airport and checked in your name would be flagged in the system and the police would be called. He considered getting you a fake ID and passport but the vacation idea had been spontaneous and he didn’t have that much time to put something together like that.

“We’d take a road trip. Rent a small beach house or something.”

“A road trip. To a beach somewhere. Okay. I like the sound of that.”

. . .

Between you and Harry, you both found a beautiful small beach in Northern California and picked a one-bedroom beach house on Airbnb, not right on the beach, but across the street and up a path. It was an eight-hour drive away, but it would be fun, and you two planned on stopping at the small diners and antique shops along the way.

You had it all mapped out. The spots you’d stop at if you had time, the route that took you to a mom-and-pop hamburger spot that had glowing reviews, a nearby small-town museum you could pop into, and a lake with hiking trails to stretch your legs.

When you arrived in Cloverdale the first stop was the hamburger dive. It was cute. You both stretched as you climbed out of the vehicle and Harry looked so… young… unbothered. You hadn’t seen him look like this ever. Perhaps it was the fact that he could be out with you and not have to worry at all. That he wasn’t keeping you in his house as his captive. It was as if something had been lifted. He’d been unburdened.

You slid your hand into his and stood on your tiptoes to kiss his chin, “I’m hungry. How about you?”

The burgers were good but the tater tots were the star of the meal. Both you and Harry agreed. You got a vanilla milkshake with strawberry topping stirred in and Harry got an iced coffee.

You skipped the museum but decided on a quick peek at the park with the lake and the trails.

It felt nice to be on your feet and walking around outside. The town was beautiful and the little park hidden at the center was cute and maybe even nicer than the photos you’d seen online.

The last few hours to the beach house were peaceful. The traffic was nearly nonexistent. You could feel the last bits of stress and anxiety fall away and Harry’s sudden demeanor lightened even more.

The house was cute. It was in a small neighborhood with a handful of other small houses. A trail at the end of the road led you down to the beach and the ocean could be seen from the living room window.

But before you could really get into vacation mode it was necessary to get some groceries. The house had all the basics already. Coffee, salt, oil, water, and even a bottle of wine from one of the nearby vineyards, courtesy of the host.

The small shop up the road had everything you needed. You perused the wines while Harry loaded the basket with food you two might want during your week. You’d planned on going out to eat as well, but much of your time would be spent lounging on the beach and sleeping in, according to Harry.

“That’s my favorite one. It’s a good price too,” you heard a voice from behind you as you were looking down at a bottle of a red blend. You turned to find a young man looking over your shoulder.

You lifted the bottle up, “Really? Well, then I guess I’ll add this to the basket,” you said with a smile as you placed it in your small cart.

“Lots of good wineries around here. We’re pretty proud of the grapes that come from this area. You new here or just passing through?”

“Oh, just sort of passing through. Staying for a week just a few blocks away. Small beach vacation.”

“Interesting. Not many people choose this town for a beach vacation. What made you choose it?”

“Um… well it just seemed so quant and nice. Plus all the vineyards nearby and trails.”

“You’ll be around for a week? Where are you staying?”

You shot your gaze toward Harry who was already looking at you from the other side of the small shop with an unreadable expression, “Yeah. A week. Just got in today. And, uh, me and my boyfriend are staying not too far from here. Rented an Airbnb close to the beach.”

The young man’s brows raised, “Ahh… I wasn’t sure if he was a boyfriend or uncle…” he laughed quietly. You frowned.

Harry was a bit older than you but you didn’t imagine he looked like an uncle. And you were already losing your patience with the guy. He hadn’t done anything wrong but you weren’t used to small talk with strangers anymore. The guy was grating.

Suddenly Harry’s warm hand was on your shoulder as he pulled you into himself. His other arm reached around your frame and held it out to the young man, “I’m Harry, this is my girlfriend, Y/n. You are?”

The guy grinned and reached out to grasp Harry’s hand in a shake that seemed far too aggressive and you weren’t sure if the jostle of the shake came from Harry’s end or the other’s.

“Chris. Nice to meet you both,” his hand fell back down to his side as Harry brought his other palm up to your arm, holding you a bit possessively, “I was just sharing with Y/n here about the great wineries we’ve got nearby. Some of the best wine in the world comes from this region.”

“Is that so? We’ll be sure to enjoy some of the best wines during our stay here then. But, we do have to be going so… It was a pleasure to meet you.”

Harry pulled you away and guided you to the register to buy everything. You hadn’t experienced Harry being jealous before. You’d never had the opportunity. And you weren’t sure that that was what that was just now but you also weren’t dumb. You knew Harry was very possessive of you.

On the car ride back you picked a radio station and pulled a bottle of wine from the bag, “Can’t wait to crack this one open. Says it’s reminiscent of strawberries straight off the vine,” you read from the label.

Harry smiled at you and nodded, “Yeah that does sound good. We can drink it on the beach if you want. I’m ready to get my toes in the sand.”

So that’s just what you did. You put your bathing suits on and stuffed a bag with towels and the bottle of wine before walking up the trail to the lovely sandy beach and finding a spot to toss your towels and uncork the bottle.

The sun was already beginning to set and the wind had picked up but it was still nice and balmy. The backdrop of the waves crashing and birds soaring above, the smell of the ocean, and a few stragglers walking in the distance felt very much like you were living in a romantic movie.

Harry handed you the bottle of wine and you laughed, realizing you both forgot cups or glasses but also just tossing aside concern for that small detail. You brought the bottle up to your lips and took a drink of the red blend, which turned out, your pallet was not quite sensitive enough to pick up a single strawberry-from-the-vine note the label boasted.

You looked back down at the bottle as you gulped the red liquid down your throat and pointed at the label, “Tastes nothing like strawberry. But it’s good.” You smiled as you handed the bottle to Harry who mimicked you in putting the bottle to his lips to take a drink.

He laughed as he brought the bottle down and shook his head, “It’s like those wine tasters who put in notes of pencil shaving and charred almonds. I never taste those sorts of things. Just tastes like…” you both grinned and said the word “wine!” in unison as you laughed.

Despite the lack of strawberry flavor the bottle of wine, Harry’s company, and the sand under your toes felt incredible.

Harry pulled you into his chest so you were sitting between his legs and had your back against him. The whole scene was romantic. You were outside on the beach with a bottle of wine in your lover’s arms as you watched the sunset slowly until the sky was pink and purple and orange on the horizon.

Harry nipped at your neck and sighed making you giggle and pull away but he held you tight and laughed into your neck, “So, Chris was awfully friendly. What did he say to you before I got there?”

You rolled your eyes but kept the grin on your face, “He was just talking about the vineyards and the wine. Recommended this one,” you said as you tapped the empty bottle, “Asked why we chose this spot for vacation. That was it really.”

“So he’s nosey. And he has questionable taste in wine.”

You snickered and shook your head to turn and look at him, “Were you jealous?”

Harry squinted his eyes at you and licked his lips before looking out toward the ocean, “Of course not.”

You leaned back into him and smiled. He definitely was.

. . .

When you walked back to the little house up the trail Harry kept hold of your hand. You hadn’t had many moments with him away from his house. Having him holding your hand and keeping you steady as you stepped carefully over the small rocks and the sand along the dark trail made you feel like you did when you were a kid. It was fun and the darkness was exciting. But it also gave you a sense of safety with his hand wrapped around yours as he led you carefully through the path. But there was also the fact that you’d had half a bottle of wine.

“I’m already having so much fun, Harry,” you said as you entered the house and Harry sat the bag down next to the door.

Harry smirked and locked the door, grabbing your hips and pulling you in, his wine-stained mouth connected to yours in haste. You hadn’t expected it at all. He had been quiet the whole way back, which wasn’t out of the norm for him. Harry wasn’t much of a talker, you did well to fill in the silence with your near-constant rambling. But still, you hadn’t thought he’d be all over you the moment you stepped into the door.

“Let’s go test out that bed,” he spoke quietly and turned you around to walk you toward the bedroom.

Now, the thing was that your sex drive was high. For Harry it was. You were sure that no one else could make you feel the way he did. Obviously, you were a virgin before you met him but he was so good at what he did and the way he made you feel, the way you’d get wet for him in an instant, just the way he trained you, you were usually begging him for his come every night. He liked to act as if he was aloof or didn’t need it because he loved to watch you squirm, hear you beg…

But tonight was different. He wanted you and he was being quite handsy suddenly. Needy even, you’d say. He was already hard in his shorts when he put you on the bed and pulled your bathing suit off.

He gave you little preamble before pasting his lips to your cunt and bringing you to your first orgasm for the night. He made it messy and noisy too. His moans vibrated off your body and sounded through the room as he fed from your pussy. His fingers and hand were drenched and he wiped his face through your folds until he was coated in your arousal from the bridge of his nose to the bottom of his chin. You were breathless and shivering as you called his name.

And you had no time to recover before he was wrecking your insides with his long cock. The bed rocked under his thrusts and his dirty words were whispered into the room, “My pussy, my girl… no one gets to have this. You’re mine, aren’t you?”

You gasped and nodded, unable to form words when your lungs were searching for air from the way he pounded into you, punching into your guts and rendering you a breathy mess under him.

“S’right. My little girl. All these holes are mine to come inside.”

You weren’t in the head space to think about what he was saying. You just knew that yes, you were his. Your holes were his.

But Harry was making a point. He knew he didn’t need to but his jealousy and possessiveness got the best of him when he thought about the way Chris tried talking to you. And he saw the way the guy looked at you. Harry wasn’t dumb. He knows the look.

“Tell me pup,” Harry spoke his words in gasps as he moved in and out of your beautifully tight and warm pussy, “Who do you belong to?”

Your words came out in punched breaths, “You! Harry! I… only you!”

The way Harry was dipping in deep and fast felt so yummy. You loved how he felt when he was connected to you. You imagined that his cock inside of you was like some kind of Lego piece to your little Lego piece. As odd as that sounded – it made sense in your brain. Every time he was inside of you the pieces fit together so nicely and made something even better than they were before. Something bigger. Something complete.

“Fuck, pup! You’re so good. So fucking sweet and you’re all mine. Gonna breed you, baby. Want my babies, pup?”

Harry had been hinting a bit lately. More often than not lately. You didn’t know if it was a heat of the moment kind of thing or if he really wanted to knock you up. But you would happily be a mother to his children if he wanted. And while he was railing you deep with his big cock making you braindead you especially loved that idea.

“Yeah… uhghhh! Yes! Fuck!!” His pounding didn’t let up and the bed underneath only got louder as the springs danced under your back. The thud of Harry’s heavy balls to your skin was wet and you could feel them pressing into you each time he bottomed out.

“M’gonna make you a mommy. Fuck my come into your womb and no one can have you when they see you pregnant with my babies.”

You panted and felt sweat at your temple. Harry’s words were tight and grunted as he spoke between heavy thrusts.

“It’s so deep! Harry!!” It was deep. It felt especially sharp and achy with the way he was punishing your pussy with his cock. But you could handle it. You’d handled him going in harder many times.

Every plunge and smack of skin, the squeak of the mattress, and panted words and gasps only got louder as Harry neared his end. His moans were beautiful. You loved making him feel good like this. Loved when he came inside of you and orgasmed because your pussy felt so good. Because he loved you so much.

“Better feel your pussy squeezing around me again, pup. Come on, baby. Fucking come all over me,” Harry clenched his jaw as he spoke, holding himself back. He wanted one more from you. Selfishly he liked knowing he could make you come over and over again so you knew how good he could take care of you in the way no one else could. And also because he loved how you felt when your pussy spasmed around his cock as he came, the way you milked him and his balls drained into his cock and poured into your body as you shivered and pulsed around his throbbing dick.

Your ears began to ring as you started to come again. Harry’s thick tip was continuously poking into your little spot on the inside that made your toes curl and that did you in. The stretch and the deep thrusts into your soft aching little part on the inside had you shaking and shouting his name in orgasm.

Harry saw stars as he finally allowed himself to drain into you, fucking himself in as deep as possible so his come would stick and get in deep, his wide crown pushing it up into your guts. Your slick, hot walls wrung his cock out like a rag, making all of her sperm drip into you with each pulse and contraction from your little muscle. He was rendered silent as he felt himself being siphoned by you. His mouth hung open and he trembled over you, his arms barely holding himself up, his thighs quivering… he hadn’t realized he’d been so on edge. He was responding to your pussy the way you responded to his cock.

And of course, the rest of the night was sweet and soft. Harry helped you clean up and doted on you. You both lay together on the couch and watched TV as you faced Harry so you could watch him. You loved looking at him and rubbing your hands over his tattooed chest and upward to the scruff on his neck and face. You kissed his nipples and sighed to yourself about how lucky you felt as you fell asleep in his arms.

The next few days were all spent in the dizzying heat on the sand and splashing around in the ocean a little. The waves were strong so you didn’t go in too deep, at Harry’s urging, “Don’t want you to get hurt, pup. Stay close to the shallow parts.”

You visited a vineyard attached to a winery and bought a case of wine that you both loved to bring back home with you. And every night the sex was filled with lots of dirty talk of getting you knocked up and making you a mommy.

But last night, Harry had gone easy on you. He didn’t pound into you or make you sore all over like he often did. No spankings or hair pulling. He fucked you sweet and slow and kept his cock stuffed inside of you until he’d long softened in order to make it stick. Make the come stay inside and get you where he wanted you.

So that meant that today you were feeling extra spicy. A soft fucking sometimes meant you turned into a bit of a brat afterward or the following day. There was something in you that needed the brutal fuckings in order to keep you subdued.

You were on the towel and pulled your bikini top off as you laid flat on your tummy so you could get a tan on your back but Harry swatted your bottom as he hovered over you possessively, “What the fuck are you doing, pup? Want everyone to see your tits?”

You giggled and looked up at the man, “Just needed a nice tan. Don’t worry. You’re the only one that gets to see the front, Harry. Don’t be so boring.”

Harry scoffed. He was anything but boring and you knew it. But he knew the game you were playing.

He looked around and the beach was mostly empty. There were some people in the distance but no one would see what he was about to do.

“Boring?” He said as he yanked you up by your arm, your tits out. He pulled you into his lap and draped you across his thighs as he pulled your bikini bottoms down just enough that he could spank you hard.

You grinned as you yelped at each of his rough smacks and felt your backside burn from the sensitive skin of your bottom getting a beating. You kicked your legs and turned to look at Harry, “Hey! I don’t deser-“Your back talk was cut short when he issued you another spanking.

“You deserve exactly what I give you,” another strike to the exposed flesh of your ass, “Went too soft last night and now you’re acting like a little terror.”

You put your face into the crook of your arm as Harry continued punishing you right there on the beach with your tits bare against the towel, small granules of sand covering your damp skin.

When he felt you were finally somewhat mellowed he lifted you up and handed you your bikini top.

“Put this back on right now or we’re going back to the house.”

As if that were a punishment for you. He’d only gotten you even more worked up with the spankings and now your nipples were hard and your pussy was wet. You bit your lip and gave him a look of challenge but you put your bikini top on. Your ass couldn’t handle another swat. You were sure of it.

But now the problem was you couldn’t sit on your bottom at all over the towel and the small bits of sand were irritating your rear.

“I’ve got to go get into the water for just a bit. Come with me.” You stood up and gave Harry your sweetest puppy dog eyes.

Harry shook his head, “Gonna stay right here. You go on. But don’t go in too deep.”

As you walked away Harry became very aware of how red your ass and your thighs were. Your bikini bottoms covered the most severe markings but the parts that were exposed were very obviously red and spanked. He rolled his eyes, hoping no one saw what he had.

Once you got into the ocean and let the cool water soothe your bottom you turned to look back at Harry and waved at him and then stuck your tongue out. You didn’t know why you’d done it. You were just in a mood. You needed him to obliterate you since it was your last full day. Something about being on vacation and being in public with him really did something to you. Made you feel naughty and liberated all at once. You were having a really good time on your little getaway. It was just what you both had needed.

“Water’s great today!” You heard a familiar voice and turned your head to see Chris.

“It really is! The waves aren’t too crazy either. Haven’t really been able to get in too deep.”

Chris walked into the water toward you with a grin on his face, “Oh no? Are you not used to swimming in the ocean? There’s a technique you know.”

You shook your head, “No. Haven’t swum much in the ocean. The waves are so strong that they pull me under,” you laughed as you lowered your bottom half down to let the water submerge up to your rib cage.

“I could teach you. It’s not too difficult. Just some basic rules for when the waves are coming at you. It’ll make you safer in the water too.”

“Oh… well. Okay!” You looked out to where Harry was and realized he was lying flat on his back. He hadn’t even noticed that Chris was talking to you. You smiled to yourself just knowing that when he realized you were out here with him he’d probably come out into the water with you finally.

Chris gave you an example as a small wave came ashore jumping into it as it neared and explained how the timing was important. He held your hand to help you jump into the waves so you got the feel for how you should be moving into the water.

“Okay, now let’s do it a little more in the shallow so the waves feel stronger. You’ll see.”

You followed him closer toward the shore and you could feel the waves more intensely.

Suddenly Chris’s chattering stopped, “Are you… okay? Did you get dragged on your butt in the sand from the waves?” He seemed genuinely worried about the state of your bottom.

You laughed and nodded. Actually, that was a great excuse. You kind of wanted to tell him that your lover had just spanked you for being a brat but you were sure Harry would hate that, “Yes. Like I said. I am not a strong swimmer so I got taken down in the water to the sand on my butt.” You laughed.

Chris squinted and you realized he was inspecting your bottom a bit too closely when suddenly you heard Harry, both of you turning to see the tall man with broad shoulders stomping his way toward you. Uh oh.

“Let’s go. We need to get some lunch.” Harry fumed.

“Oh, but Chris is just showing me how to swim in the ocean properly. He’s just trying to help me stay safe.”

Harry did not like this one bit. He didn’t like that Chris had been ogling your backside with his red handprints all over, or that he was near you in the ocean at all. And that he was acting as if he was trying to protect you somehow. That was Harry’s job.

“Is he now? And what’s the best way to go about that, Chris?” Harry said as he began to slosh into the water nearing you until he was at your side in the water, “Because from what I just saw you were more so staring at her bottom. Is that how you show her to stay safe?”

Chris’s eyes got wide as he shook his head, “No! Of course not! She told me that she’d gotten taken down by a wave and that her butt hit the sand. I was just concerned because that’s really a lot,” he cleared his throat keeping his eyes on Harry.

“Your concern is noted. Now,” he looked back down at you, putting his hands at your shoulders and leading you out of the water, “Let’s get going before the waves take you down again, pup.”

You smiled and waved at Chris, “Bye! Thank you so much for trying to help keep me safe,” twisting the proverbial knife in just a bit more. You knew Harry would be fuming by the time you two got back into the house.

And he was. But fuming might have been an understatement. It was the first time Harry’d had to deal with such a thing with you.

When the door was locked, Harry kept his hands at your shoulders as he spoke into your ear with seething wrath, “What the fuck is wrong with you? Why don’t you behave when I fuck you softly? Hmm? You need to be treated like a slutty brat when I fuck you don’t you? Need to be smacked around a little?”

Harry let go of you as he pushed you down to your knees and lowered his swim trunks just enough that his cock was out.

“Suck til I’m hard then I’m gonna treat you like you the way you seem to want.”

You nodded and smirked as you began working on his cock, spitting and licking and sucking all around him. He grew hard in your mouth and hands fast. His length was always a shock to you when you saw it up close. Harry’s dick was big. But that was part of what made you love having him fuck you. You loved being wrecked by him.

When you began to bob over him, spit covering his cock to his base he gathered your hair up and pushed you down on him, holding you in place with both hands, “Mouth needs bruised just like your bottom,” he groaned as he filled your tight throat, causing your eyes to water with your nose brushing into his pelvis.

You grabbed onto his thighs as he began to slowly roll his hips into you. He bit his lip and closed his eyes to just feel you. He didn’t want to give you the pleasure of hearing him moan.

The way he was fucking your mouth wasn’t too out of the ordinary. Though he normally was a bit more vocal you figured it was part of the punishment you knew you deserved. You gurgled and gagged around him as he continued stuffing himself into you and you knew to just take it.

When he pulled out you gasped and swallowed but then leaned forward to put him back in your mouth but he only pulled your hair harder to keep your lips off of him. He pulled you up by your hair and then pushed you against the couch, so you were bent over the arm with your red bottom facing up.

The sudden movements were unexpected but the moment he buried himself into your pussy, splitting you in half you sighed and cooed at him, “Fuck me. God yes!”

Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head. You were incorrigible. Impossible to correct at times. But fuck if he didn’t love you and the way you took him.

He gave you no mercy as he began railing you deep, the couch being pushed the slightest and banging into the wall, “You don’t get to come. You’re only here to hold my sperm and take your punishment. Maybe then you’ll turn into a good girl.”

His hand held you down by the back of your head into the cushion as he continued bucking into your pussy, reaching deep into your tummy. The delicious sound of wet cunt being fucked and stuffed repeatedly had your head spinning. You could record the sound of yourself getting railed and get off on that alone.

Harry pushed his fingers into your hair to grip harder and put his other hand at your low back to keep you down as you kept arching your back and trying to push yourself onto him harder. You wanted it harder.

Harry finally let out a choked groan as he felt you clench hard and watched his cock fuck into you. He would never grow tired of fucking your little pussy and watching your soft skin turn red from his fingers and spankings. Your face was smushed into the couch but he could see your mouth was wide open and your eyes were shut. He loved that you loved it.

Suddenly he lifted you up by your hair so he could speak filth into your ear, “Little slutty wet hole all f’me. Puppy wants my come and my cock all the fucking time. Isn’t that right?”

You tried nodding but his grip was tight as his chest was pressed into your back, his hips rolling into you in punishing thrusts.

“Gonna come inside of your cunt and over and over again until we leave tomorrow. Teach you a lesson about being needy and slutty. Always soaked for me and begging to be stuffed full,” his words came out in gasps and you could tell he was about to come.

You sighed and licked your lips as you let him use you for his pleasure, happy to take whatever he gave you.

When his grip tightened harshly at your hair and his wet lips licked your ear he moaned and jerked his hips into you, his balls pressed against you tightly as he throbbed and pumped his come into your tummy.

He breathed hard and pulled his other arm around your middle as he held you close to his chest, filling you to the brim with his sperm.

You hissed when his cock reached into you so deep and he kept himself submerged in that achy spot, never letting up pushing into you. It felt as if he was going to tear your pussy in two for a moment.

As he came down, his harsh grip on your hair and around your middle loosened as he lowered you back to the couch and finally pulled himself out.

You lay quietly and sweetly as you caught your breath. You hadn’t come, of course, but you were certainly feeling the flow of endorphins from making Harry come.

And just like always, he tenderly helped you clean up, kissed you, and spoke to you as if you were the best thing he’d ever had, “Took it like a good girl. Such a soft little pussy, but even better is that I get you and your pretty eyes and these beautiful lips. What would I do without you? Huh?”

“I love you, Harry.”

Harry grinned as he smoothed his hands over your naked body, “I know pup. I love you too.”

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sea-of-dust · 2 months

Note

Hello. Could you do a headcanon or story about Yandere Acheron x Reader (gender neutral).

The reader doesn’t care about Acherons yandere-ness.

Example:

Acheron: I killed someone.

Y/n: Uh-huh.

Acheron:…you… don’t care?

Y/n: No. I don’t know the person anyway. Soooo what now? Wanna game?

Yandere! Acheron x GN! Reader

"So if I were to-" "go for it"

N: thank you for the request annon!! First yandere request 🎉

Warnings: mentions of death, murder, stalkers, murder, most you'd expect with a yandere fic

Acheron isn't a yandere that would usually kill. She is, at most, a scary dog. Always lurking over your shoulder in public and sitting closely to you. This apparent part of her nature is why you rarely catch onto her yandere like habits.

The fact that when there were obvious signs like her staring down a person that looked at you for longer than she'd like. You just didn't care. She could plan something about how to get rid of someone she saw as dangerous toward you out loud, maybe on a pen and paper, and stick it to the fridge. You'd look at it for two seconds, "must be a new hobby" and then go on with your day

Acheron, however, was non the wiser. Even though she already has you, she's afraid you'd leave her because of what could be considered a major overreaction. Even though you could have reported a stalker of yours to the police wouldn't it be quicker to just take them out? She isn't gonna take any chances after she killed them, turning off the news to a different channel, saying that it's always the same thing, not wanting to take the chance that maybe the family didn't cover this one up, her being unable to make eye contact with you for a short while is also telling that, she knows what she did would benefit you, but how would you feel if you had known?

So another fated event, another person eyeing you with glints of admiration, obsessing over every muscle that moves in your face to make words, to blink. nearly drooling over you. At the very least, she would be annoyed, leaving the cafe and hearing "I think that guy's on a wanted list" from you, inspired maybe too much looking over your back while walking home and then doing enough research to know his whole family. As soon as he was an established threat, she had already known his route home, sneaking away from you to cut him off. All she had to do now was go back to you and-

"Acheron?" You narrow your eyes. "Y/n." She froze, it would be strange to leave the scene now, she tries to think of a way to leave only for her thoughts to rage on about how you had caught her. "I gotta start paying more attention to you, how do you get so far?" you exhale grabbing her hand "let's go I finally found a couch co-op game" you tug at her hand, finally getting her to move, walking away you lean onto her shoulder. "You killed him didn't you" "what makes you think that?" She remains calm, walking at the same pace she always did, her hand as firm around yours as usual.

"There was a strong smell in that alley, not to mention" you poke her finger "there's a red spot on the hand you wield your sword with" you hum but she stays silent, continuing to walk with you. "What will you do?" Her response is low squeezing your hand subconsciously. "Nothing" you reply to her, holding her hand reassuringly. "Knowing you, they were probably bad news to begin with" you unlock your phone to show her the game you were telling her about. "Now let's get home and play this!" Your eyes sparkle going on about the game. Acheron smiles as a wave of relief crashes over her, thanking every Aeon known to man. She'll enjoy seeing that precious smile of yours, till the day you care about how far she's willing to go for you

#sea of asks #fluff #x reader #gender neutral reader #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #hsr acheron #star rail #acheron x you #acheron x reader #acheron #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #honkai x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x reader

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jinnie-ret · 9 months

Text

atlantis

han jisung x reader | end of the world au

genre: angst, humour(?), fluff

content warnings: swearing, suggestive jokes, natural disaster, death

word count: 5.8k

summary: their fate lies in the hands of a prophecy that could save their lives.

HAN JISUNG MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

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"Welcome back to the 1 o'clock news. We wish we had a more hopeful message today today but the waters are rising, electricity is compromised and people are already dying. We ask you to remain vigilant, take care of yourselves and stay close to your loved ones. The record high tidal waves are en route to South Korea and our beautiful city Seoul and people are saying we could be living in what will be the new Atlantis. It is estimated we have 10 hours left but-"

"Too depressing," Y/N sighed as she flicked through channels. She already knew they didn't have much time left, so waiting and hoping for a news report to tell them the opposite was only hurting her soul even more. There was no time to say goodbye to loved ones, having to prioritise using their remaining electricity towards kitchen appliances to make sure they could eat, their mobiles having already run out of charge and they didn't have a landline.

Oh yeah, they.

Y/N lived with her best friend Jisung in an apartment for the last couple of years, and those years held some of her favourite moments and memories and to think those could all be washed away in the events of the end of the world... it wasn't a nice feeling, not at all. She constantly felt sick to her stomach knowing the impending doom they'd have to face.

"There is a prophecy! It could be one or two of you out there that could save the world!" a whimsical looking man with thick lens glasses perched upon his nose spoke into the camera.

"Oh they're talking nonsense!" Y/N exclaimed, sitting up to grab the TV control again and switch the channel just as Jisung ran in with a bowl of cereal.

"No, no, no, leave it on!" he spoke through a mouthful of cornflakes as he jumped onto the sofa next to her, some milk spilling over but neither of them cared. Trivial issues like that didn't matter anymore.

"Ji, there's no point now anyways, the picture is staticy and the audio is all-" Y/N rolled her eyes before Jisung muffled her mouth with his hand to shut her up, and they both listened to the crazy man on the TV.

"One thing will unlock survival. The key is in a place where many people have come and gone. It lies in a enclosed area that only the bravest can enter. Only those who are worthy can wield it's power and open the gate that knows all, that all know."

"A key?! What could that mean?" Jisung sat forwards intrigued, finally removing his hand from Y/N's mouth who shoved him away from her.

"The prophecy didn't say that we specifically had to find it..." Y/N stood up, taking Jisung's finished bowl of cereal into the kitchen and placing it in the sink.

"Come on, if we can really do something to help, we've got to try," Jisung followed her into the kitchen, tugging her away from the sink to make sure her attention was on him. He bent ever so slightly to make sure she was looking right at him.

"Ji, I don't know about this..." Y/N's seemingly bored and nonchalant manner had quickly reverted to her nervous side.

"And if I'm gonna do this with anyone I'd want it to be you!" Jisung grabbed her arms now, hoping she'd brush away her worries for just once and do this with him, for him, for them.

"Aw Jisung... I can already feel my heart melting," Y/N in fact did brush away her worries, at face value at least, and grinned sarcastically at her best friend. She skipped away from him, gliding gracefully with her hand on her heart before jumping and flopping onto the sofa.

"Gosh, I've melted the Ice Caps! That's the last thing we need with the world flooding..." Jisung dramatically gasped, grabbing a piece of paper with a pen and whacking it on Y/N's head as he sat next to her. She of course, did retaliate with slap on the leg.

"Jisung, shut up."

It almost felt like an endless cycle. Hope, worry, denial, repeat. Y/N hated broadcasts like the one they had just listened to. Anyone would be a fool to actually listen to the words of a so called prophecy and even think of attempting to save the world.

"Right we need to think... enclosed area, only the bravest can enter?" Jisung hummed, tapping the pen against his chin before scribbling down the jist of what had been said on TV.

And that was her fool right there. She loved him for it though.

"Jisung, come on," Y/N sighed, going to grab the notebook away from him but he held it tightly to his chest, wiggling in his seat to face her and sit closer.

"No you come on, work with me here, think, please," Jisung stood his ground firmly, brows furrowed in what could only be described as a pleading, Puss-in-Boots-like expression.

"Fine, fine... It's probably that club down town, what's it called? HooBAEs? No one would dare enter there, awful place, wouldn't mind if it got completely flooded," Y/N thought out loud stretching out and resting her legs on Jisung's lap, who didn't react apart from resting his notes on her calves without batting an eyelid.

"Yeah yeah! That place is horrible, probably is at least halfway ruined by now," he nodded in thought, scribbling down the name of the club.

"Halfway? It was dreadful from the start, remember that time someone pissed onto the floor in the middle of the night," Y/N reminded Jisung of the unfortunate time thet decided to go out on a Saturday night. Never again. They both felt like they much preferred a night in anyways watching crappy movies and making fun of the storylines.

"Oh yeah that was grim..." Jisung nodded, wrinkling his nose just thinking of it.

"Yeah horrible..." Y/N trailed off.

"Y/Nnie you've driven us off topic again."

"No I haven't!"

"What, you think we should try HooBAEs? We'll probably get a disease I don't wanna even think about if we go there..." Jisung shuddered, wishing his best friend never suggested the idea. The end of the world couldn't rely on a key being hidden in such a dodgy establishment, could it?

"Remember the prophecy, Ji, only brave people would go there. As much as I hate to say it, we should go there. We've ventured there before, why not now?" Y/N lifted herself up from the sofa and grabbed the keys to her apartment, stuffing it into the pocket of her hoodie.

"Not the worst idea... might need to put our wellies on though, the water is filling up," Jisung waved her over to stand beside him and observe the outside. She didn't even notice him move towards the tall glass windows of the apartment, but it was the smart thing to do, considering how high the water had already risen.

"Actually, we might need a boat," Y/N breathed out in sudden realisation as she joined his side. The water had risen to around half the height of your average door, from what she tell by squinting at the buildings across the road.

"Shit, you're right," Jisung groaned, hitting his head against her shoulder. Y/N patted his head sympathetically as they both prepared themselves, physically and mentally, to try and save the world.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The pair of courageous best friends were quite the sight to see. As luck would have it, there was a leisure equipment shop across the road, having all sorts of things they could steal because no one was going to work their job when the building was half flooded and when they knew it would soon be the end for everyone. Fortunately, the canoes were quite near the front of the shop, and they, well, Y/N, hauled it off of the rack that was still standing somehow. Jisung was too distracted by the idea of getting an inflatable pool.

"Jisung we don't need a pool! Just jump out this canoe if you want to swim!" you had huffed as you dragged the canoe towards the door as you waded through the water.

"I didn't wanna swim! I wanted to just float around," Jisung moped, doing a weird awkward jog through the murky water trying to catch up to you. The one where the force of the water weighs your legs down so you have to almost jump out slightly each time you take a step.

Once you both made it out of the shop you both clambered into the boat, Jisung taking the back and you sitting at the front. There were of course a few failed attempts of rowing down the road, neither of them having used an oar before. Did it tip over? Yes, it did. But that was because they both started rowing on the same side.

Eventually they did arrive along the top of the street of the notoriously grim club, HooBAEs.

"How do we park a canoe, shit," Y/N wobbled as she stood up, confronted with an odd dilemma she never thought she would be.

"Girl... never mind," Jisung side eyed her in pure disbelief before grabbing her to sit down, it was like she was trying to be a gondolier.

Jisung achieved their goal of not losing their transport, and helped Y/N out after he caught his own balance. He couldn't control the blood from rushing to his cheeks when she didn't let go of his hand, and she even readjusted the grip she held on his hand as they walked inside the club venue.

"Why would there even be a key here? A special key in a prophecy here? Plus it's not exactly an enclosed area..." Jisung gagged at the stench of the place. Bar stools were floating around, turned onto their backs like many people were the last time they both went on a night out here. Guess the pros are of the world ending is that the slippery floor means nothing now that the water is up to just underneath their waists. Wood from the pillars and bar had rotted, splinters of the material floating around in what now looked like a grotty swamp of cheap furniture. And that wasn't the only thing that was floating around.

"Is that a condom?" Y/N shrieked at the plastic floating towards them both, tugging Jisung back, her feet colliding with old music equipment that had long ago blown it's fuse.

"Focus on the issue at hand, Y/N!" Jisung chastised her, yet still allowing her to pull him back with her, not wanting to let go of her hand. Oh, he was so whipped. It was something about the way she matched his energy perfectly, his twin flame, you could say. She never failed to put a smile on his face, those plump lips that he wish he could just-

"Ew it's a used one! Quick, go! Move, Ji!" Y/N squealed in disgust and tugged his hand harder, essentially breaking him out of his thoughts. And with that they left the decrepid place, relieved at the same time.

Being the gentleman he was, Jisung helped her back into the canoe first, and as they rowed away, he gasped in excitement and suddenly started rocking the boat.

"Dude stop this isn't the time for messing around! I don't wanna fall in again," Y/N exclaimed, letting out small murmurs of discomfort and annoyance as she tried to stay sat down.

"Y/Nnie I know it! I know where it could be!" Jisung shouted feeling elated, having his lightbulb moment.

"Enlighten me, oof-" Y/N's voice wobbled as her body did too, before she ended up falling backwards into his lap, the boy automatically latching onto her shoulders to try and stabilise her but they were both already red as tomatoes.

"Umm sorry I-" Jisung stuttered, not knowing whether to let go of Y/N because realistically he wished that such an interaction would never be awkward between them and that he had confessed how he truly felt a long time ago.

"It's fine just umm tell me where you're thinking so we can steer this ship!" Y/N cringed as she spoke through a strained smile, taking her original spot once again. She tried to forget that just happened, because she never thought it would. She never imagined that her heart would race at the sight of his smile, blush from his teasing words or that her nights would be filled with thoughts of what would happen if they ever were a 'thing'. But here they were.

"Please don't say that again."

"Yeah you're right, it was ummm... yeah."

"I mean, I saw where you were going with it but it just didn't really hit-"

"Ok fine! Just tell me where you think the key is! I'm very embarrassed now!" Y/N stammered, staring straight ahead as her hands gripped the sides of the 'ship' as she wished she could rewind and never say what she did. If her thoughts were gonna take her down the route of a 'thing' ever blossoming between them, she could watch that sapling die right in front of her very eyes.

"That big house, on the outskirts of town..." Jisung trailed off, not quite remembering the name of the mansion he was imagining.

"Oddinary House?" Y/N offered weakly, now feeling composed enough to turn back around. As she did so she made sure the oars were resting in place.

"Yes that's the place! All you hear about that place are horror stories!" Jisung nodded enthusiastically when Y/N's words sparked his memory.

"And you think you're brave enough to go there?" she laughed, looking off to the side.

"Hey, this is for the prophecy! We could save this place! This city! Our friends!" Jisung insisted, desperation apparent as he shifted to look right into Y/N's eyes, the jostling causing water to ripple around them.

"Ji... Is it worth it for the prophecy?" Y/N sighed, her minds going off in all different directions, wondering if it was worth it.

"Yes! A chance at life! We need to do this, Y/Nnie," Jisung did his best to convince her, feeling her turmoil and lessening hope as the moments went by, especially when she turned back around to avoid him from seeing the tears that blurred her vision.

"Isn't it all pointless anyways..." she mumbled.

"It's not when I'm with you," Jisung hugged her from behind for a moment, and oddly it felt natural, far less awkward than before. "Now, come on, let's go, or shall I say-"

"If you say let's row then I am tipping over this boat," Y/N chuckled as she sniffed, wiping away her tears.

"Noted. I will not speak in fear of drowning," Jisung spoke robotically, the two of them laughing once more afterwards as they grabbed the oars once more.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was a treacherous journey you could say, venturing to the outskirts of the city, but it wasn't hard to see the old worn-down mansion which practically had a storm cloud hovering above it. Oddinary House, in all it's glory.

"What a glorious shithole," Jisung whistled out, eyes trialing across the rotting wood that was barely keeping the place together. It was a surprise his voice was even normal, considering the volumes that the impromptu karaoke session reached between the two of them.

"I know right," Y/N nodded along, squinting when she thought she saw someone floating in the water. They both rowed closer to the entrance of the house, gaining a closer look at the body. "Oh my god!" she gasped, "they're dead!"

"Damn, this place is fucked," Jisung's jaw hung open, even further when the body spoke back to him.

"Isn't it just?"

Jisung and Y/N both yelled out in shock at the person/creature that they thought was dead, suddenly speaking to them with an enticing melodic voice. They should have realised sooner than the swishing back and forth as they floated in the water couldn't have been achieved by a dead person.

"Wait... Oh my... it's the sexy scary siren! The stories were right!" Y/N put two and two together, remembering all the stories she had been told about who lived at the abandoned mansion and she figured out that this was the siren that many had spoken about. His alluring puppy dog eyes and gorgeous smile were just added bonuses to his hypnotising voice.

"Sexy?"

"Sexy..."

Jisung and the siren met eyes as they both spoke aloud at the same time, one of them sounding jealous and the other quite smug.

"Umm, right... Do you have a key?" Jisung abruptly asked, not wanting to waste any time.

"Don't just ask him!" Y/N turned away from the siren and whacked Jisung on the arm, scolding him.

"Well what am I supposed to do?!"

"I don't know introduce ourselves?!"

The siren chuckled as he watched the two humans in the canoe bicker. The back and forth instantly made him think of an old married couple playfully arguing yet they also had this radiant aura around them that could only be seen when they're together.

"Ummm, I'm Y/N and this is my best friend Jisung, please don't kill us, haha," Y/N falsely grinned feeling nervous even though her brain felt comfortable enough to blurt out earlier that she thought the siren in front of her was sexy.

"I'm Seungmin," the siren purred out, pausing in his floating to swim up to the canoe and rest his head against the edge of it. "Now, what's this about a key?" he inquired curiously.

"Did you not see the news?" Jisung huffed, not wanting to go through the prophecy anymore times than Y/N had already made him repeat it, just so that she could 'engrave it into her brain'.

"You really think we get signal out here? And in this climate? Bless your heart," Seungmin patronised Jisung, flicking water up in his face and making the boy squeeze his nose as some droplets has arrived up his nostrils. Incredibly salty water. That made it sting more.

Just then, a beautiful voice broke out, but no, it did not belong to the siren that was right in front of them, no. This voice, was female, and it was coming from above. Looking up at the stained windows of the second floor, and not in a pretty vibrant and colourful way, a figure almost glided down the corridor. They moved slowly, almost allowing for their voice to break out, becoming louder especially when they saw Jisung and Y/N.

"Oh gosh, you really had to set her off... We just got her to keep quiet!" Seungmin exclaims annoyed, a frown taking over his face as he pushes away from the canoe.

"Oh shit is that a banshee?" Y/N gasped, thinking about the newer rumours that had recently come of Oddinary House.

"No she must be the sexy siren you were saying about bestie," Jisung tried craning his neck to get a better look at who was catching his eye.

"No we already established that was me, obviously," Seungmin shouts back at them, before heading round to the other side of the mansion, swimming his way gracefully to the back garden.

"Ugh, Ji, you're getting distracted again," Y/N huffs as she whacks him.

"Hey that was you before!" Jisung folds his arms.

"Blah blah blah, come in, let's head inside," Y/N directs him as they row their boat inside the front doors, arriving into what looked like a reception room. Haggard, is what this place was.

"Hey! Umm, we're looking for a key!" Han dumbly called out.

"Dude ssshh, they could eat us or something," Y/N said feeling paranoid, wrapping her arms around one of Jisung's.

"Nothing will eat us," Jisung rolled his eyes fondly, letting her cling onto him still.

"I could eat you."

Shit. How accurate were these stories? How accurate were they to know that there was also a werewolf living at this mansion?! In fact, said werewolf was currently sat on the staircase, distastefully flicking water out of his fur.

"Please don't," Y/N gasped.

"Please do," Jisung gasped.

Everyone froze, looking back and forth between each other with confusion. You couldn't make this up, what was happening, it was just that bizarre.

"Ji, that's literally a werewolf," Y/N reminded him, pulling away from him as she stared up the creature who was smirking right back at them, one leg folded over the other, a certain smugness about him with his sharp features illuminated by a yellow light.

"Yeah but he's kindaaaa..." Jisung trailed off, scanning the figure.

"Hmm, yeah, I can see it to be fair," Y/N agreed after a few moments.

The werewolf cleared his throat after a few more starry eyes gazes were directed towards him, "if you're looking for a key, you need to find a gate to open."

"Duh! That's why we're looking for a key? Why is bro so cryptic," Han sighed in disappointment, could have been the perfect companion if it wasn't for his obvious remarks.

"Shut up he's helping us," Y/N reprimanded her best friend before trying to read the true thoughts and emotions behind the eyes of the being sat before them. "A gate... hold on, hold on, you know where this key is, don't you! You're gonna send us on a wild goose chase when we could be saving the world?!"

"Oh, haha, aw, how sweet, you think you can save the world? Well in that case... Head upstairs, might wanna avoid the banshee she's been a bit umm, stressed recently you could say... And then find the cyborg, his name is CB97. We used to have him downstairs but you know, water and electrics don't really-"

"Right thanks!" Han rushes past Minho and cuts him off, wading through the water and going up the other set of stairs. "Come on Y/N!"

Y/N really wished she taught him some manners. She had heard from some of his friends that he was a bit of a dick during his younger teen years but when she first met him he was sweet as pie. Well, until they got comfortable with each other and with roasting each other.

"Sorry about him, he's a bit... excitable," Y/N sheepishly walks past the werewolf, doing a weird wave and not turning her back in fear he'd suddenly turn and eat her up.

The pair were wary as they walked the floors upstairs, flinching at every sound until a door opening on its own terrified them.

"Ahhhh!!!"

"Ahhhh!"

"Stop screaming!!!"

"You stop screaming!!"

"Ji, shut up, look he's there, the cyborg," Y/N points to the hunched figure in the corner of the dimly lit room. He was hooked up to some generators, but more importantly, there was a clear box as part of his make, where a human's abs would normally be. And what was inside of that clear box? A golden, shiny key.

"Yes! We found it!!! Oh my gosh we're gonna save the world!" Y/N cheered as she and Jisung jumped up and down in each others arms, hugging tightly and pulling away to stare into each others eyes for a moment.

Jisung was the first to pull away

"Hey umm, Mr Cyborg, Mr CB... my 97 bro... Umm, where do we need to unlock this key?" Jisung waves his hand in front of the barely glowing blue eyes of the machine. After composing herself, Y/N stepped up next to him, also trying to get the cyborg to respond to them.

But it was no luck. The generators sparked as drops of water fell from the ceiling and caused a fuse, making CB97 the cyborg fully shut down, head hanging forwards.

"No, no, shit!" Y/N swore, tapping on the back of the cyborg with such vigor it was like someone was trying to fix an old television.

"Great that was real helpful... Now what are we going to do?!" Jisung stomped his foot, pacing back and forth with his hands on his head.

"Wait, give me a sec," Y/N rolled up her sleeves, ready to bust open the small door on the cyborg's body to retrieve the key. She slowly grabbed it, focusing all her strength on it til it opened all too easy and she went flying backwards and hit the floor with a loud groan.

"Shit, you ok Y/Nnie?" Jisung helped her up, rubbing her head gently and she responded with a nod.

"I'm fine, more than fine actually, I'm great. Look, the key, it's there Jisung!" Y/N dragged him back over to the shut down robot and grabbed the key, sliding it into her pocket and zipping it securely.

"We're actually going to do this... we're going to save the world!" Jisung gasped in disbelief.

They headed back down the corridors, walking down one flight of stairs and passing by a man with fangs peeking out from underneath his upper lip.

"Oh, by the way, your robot man friend went all sleepy mode on us," Y/N casually said, continuing to walk down the stairs alongside he best friend.

"What?!" the man yelled incredulously before morphing into a bat and zooming off upstairs, not before bumping into an old bear statue.

"Eh, not our problem," Jisung rested his hand on Y/N's back as he steered them outside, back to where their canoe was.

Oh how both of them wished that they'd be successful in saving the world, so they could tell the stories of entering the mansion to future generations, to their own kids- wait scrap that last idea, it's not like they'd ever end up together anyways.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Now it was time to trek back into the city. The sun was setting, casting a peachy glow across the faces of the pair. It seemed so scenic, only for it to smell horrendous. Jisung has convinced them to take a 'detour' because he 'knew a shortcut'. He didn't know a shortcut. And because of the route change they were both now forced to deal with the stench of the contents of the city's sewers flooding into the water around them. The putrid eggy smell consumed their lungs, and Y/N was sure she'd never breathe again.

"Smells like you after taco night-" Y/N plugged her nose with one hand as she laughed.

"Oi, Trouble, shut it!" Jisung kicked her bum lightly, trying not to laugh too.

Y/N loved being able to push his buttons, thus gaining her the nickname 'Trouble'. Jisung didn't use it all the time, but on the occasions he did it made her heart swoon. She knew she was getting under his skin and there was something so gratifying about him recognising that when he did use the nickname.

"You shouldn't have made them so spicy," Han pouted after a moment, mind still stuck there whilst Y/N had drifted to her nightly routine, despite it being closer to 6pm.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"I just can't think of where this gate is meant to be," Y/N groaned, looking up at the sky. Her arms were beginning to ache from rowing so Jisung insisted he'd take over to let her rest a bit.

"What did it say again?" Jisung stopped rowing, letting the canoe float.

"Oh come on! You told me I was silly for wanting to remember it off by heart!" Y/N knocked her head against Jisung's leg in protest, causing him to hold her head still as he looked down at her form laying down in the canoe.

"Y/Nnie, just tell me, yeah?" Jisung smiled through gritted teeth.

"Ugh fine, remember, it said a gate that knows all, that all know," Y/N reminded him.

"I just don't get how we're meant to figure that out, out of all the gates in the city how-"

"Jisung we're idiots," Y/N cut him off.

"Speak for yourself!" he huffed. The light in the day would soon be gone and there would be less chance of them completing their goal.

"Nope we're in this together. We're idiots. The city hall? That literally has a big gate and plus no one would really dare to enter there!! The place that knows all, that we all know! It's got to be that right?! All the official governing bodies go there, us common people could never just waltz in." Y/N scrambles up, rambling excitedly as her guess made more and more sense. Jisung had to help her to adjust her balance, and not just because of clumsy self trying to stand in the boat, but because of the waves seemed to be getting harder to handle. Only this morning it had been calmer and as the day went on the ripples turned to smaller waves that would rock the boat. And now they were straight up aggressive.

"But now we can," Jisung dangled the key in his hands.

"Hell yeah!" Y/N cheered with a newfound energy and she grabbed her set of oars.

It wasn't long until they made their way round to the city hall, going round the back of the historic building and finding the tall golden gates guarding an endless flight of stairs. It was said to have led down to an old pipe system that ran underneath the hall and the whole city.

"I wish I thought of this earlier, should have paid more attention in geography," Jisung shook his head regretfully.

"Right, who's going to swim down? Because I'll do this Jisung, I don't mind," Y/N turned to her best friend, gripping his hands tightly with promises exchanged between. The water had now risen further on their journey and if it rose anymore their boat would simply tip over the gates.

"No, I can't just let you do that!" Jisung exclaimed, frowning at the thought of the girl he loved going to do this on her own. It wouldn't feel fair.

"We need someone up here to keep watch of things!" Y/N tried to grab her hands out of Jisung's hold, who was now holding on tighter than ever not wanting to spend a moment without her.

"Watch what? Our city drown even more?!" Jisung cried out exasperatedly.

"No way," Y/N's heart dropped.

"Umm yes way, it's been like that forever!" Jisung grumbled, searching through Y/N's gaze to try and figure out what had really made her feel taken aback.

"No, look!" Y/N's eyes welled up in fear, pure utter fear.

There was a colossal tidal wave heading towards the city, already plummeting through several buildings in the distance and driving them down into the ground, destruction it's friend. Flocks of birds flew high in the sky, squawking as they retreated in fear. If only they were birds who could leave so easily. There only chance was this prophecy, it had to work.

"Oh shit," Y/N was frozen as she shouted loudly.

"Look, we've not got time, we do this together ok, I don't care what happens," Jisung grabbed Y/N's face between his hands, thumbs stroking over the tops.of her cheekbones as he tried to get her to focus.

"What if it doesn't work? This stupid prophecy?! We've got a key but what do we even-" Y/N trembled in Jisung's arms.

"No, no, no, sshh it's ok, Y/N. I got you, yeah? Come on, we need to do this now, ok?" Jisung stood up shakily on the canoe, pulling Y/N up with him.

"Together?" Y/N's voice cracked.

"Yes, we go down, now, at least we've tried," Jisung rested his forehead against hers, before they both jump into the murky waters with an all mighty splash.

It was lucky Jisung had a tight grip on the key as the pair of them rose above the water, took in a deep breath, and with one look to each other they nodded and swam down to the keyhole of the gate together. With all luck, this prophecy would be right. Maybe they'd be able to unlock the gates, allowed the water to flood down into the city's old pipes system and drain it all, so that they'd have at least one chance of survival.

Y/N helped Jisung stay down in the water to try and unlock the gate, as there was nothing to cling onto. He lodged the key into the hole and twisted it to the left, once, twice, thrice. He pushed the gates forwards and they shared a look of success, before it soon turned to dread.

They were expecting an empty staircase, for the water to flood down, but to their horror the pipes system itself has already been overwhelmed with flooding.

In that moment the huge tidal wave that had been hurtling towards the city hit where they were, and they were sucked down into the pipes system from the sheer force of the wave hitting on impact. The current hit them ferociously, dragging the two of them further and further down. There was nowhere to turn to, nowhere to run.

Jisung and Y/N we're freaking out, flailing in the water and trying to swim upwards for air but it was no use. The place was filled to the brim with water and by the time they tried swimming back up the endless amount of stairs, water would start to enter their lungs.

In fact, it already was.

The two heroes gripped onto each other as bubbles appeared in the water in front of them and the oxygen left their body. They were running out of time, something that seemed so precious until their world was doomed. Doomed from the very start. The prophecy lied.

Jisung grabbed Y/N's hands startling her out of her freak out and he rested both of them against his heart. She cried, adding her salty tears to the water they were submerged in, wishing this wasn't how it had to end. It wasn't fair. Why couldn't they have more time to confess? Why couldn't they have had more time to tell each other how they truly felt?!

He moved his hands to her face, holding her so delicately once more, and she, him. More bubbles were appearing but if they were going to share their last breath, they knew how they'd want to lose it. Jisung pressed his lips against Y/N's, something he should have done a long time ago. Their eyes closed when their lips met, and when they pulled away, they held onto each other tightly, love and despair in both of their longing stares saying 'we tried'.

And they did try. They tried so hard to save a world that was dying, leading to their own fated departures from the Earth. The world was destined to end but they were destined to be together, no matter what was thrown at them.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @kpopmenace143 @sakufilms @kai-lee08 @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky @his-angell @turtledove824 @2minstan @royal-shinigami @yangbbokari @skzoologist

177 notes · View notes

ghostlynachopanda · 1 year

Text

Till Next Time

a/n: did I come back from the dead just to drop this trash? yes. will I continue to give y'all the weirdest pics? also yes. enjoy pals

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader

words: 1.5k

summary: school is officially over. it's time to say 'see you later' to Wednesday

~~~

The school year has officially come to an end. All the students at Nevermore are in various states of packing their things — some have already said their goodbyes and gone home while others are procrastinating or waiting for their families.

You had finished packing your things. It was a slow process, it seems you ended up with more things than you started with. It took you a couple of hours to decide which box to put things in. You were done though, finally able to relax and take in your surroundings. Your roommate had gone home two days ago, leaving their side of the room completely bare. Yours is much the same, only littered with a few boxes and suitcases.

A familiar vibration from your phone drew your attention. Reaching into your pocket and looking at the text from your brother, informing you he'll be there soon and to start bringing your things down. It would take a couple of trips, but it could be done quick enough.

Wednesday is currently awaiting her parent's arrival, having finished packing her belongings an hour ago. She looked across the room and saw Enid trying to cram all of her stuffed animals into a box that was easily too small. Wednesday grimaced, the atrociously colored monstrosities were starting to hurt her eyes. Deciding anywhere would be better than her dorm, she went to look for you. She thought about what you were doing and if you needed any help.

The hallways were crowded, echoing footsteps and loud chatter. Everyone seems to be in their own bubble, not paying attention to anything around them. You thought it was nice, Wednesday thought it was horrid. The hallway you needed was crowded enough for you to take a different route, unintentionally missing Wednesday.

Wednesday had knocked when she made it to your room, negative thoughts quickly filling her head when you didn't answer right away. Wednesday was not known for her patience, especially where it concerned you. Wednesday knocked one more time and called for you, only for you not to answer. You wouldn't leave without saying goodbye first, right? No, you wouldn't. At least, she hoped you wouldn't. She decided to let herself in, she'd pick the lock if she had to.

She pushed the door, not only finding it unlocked but also already partially cracked. How she had missed that before is beyond her, if anyone asked she'd blame you. When she walked in, she was immediately overcome with a familiar feeling. A feeling that she used to be fond of morphed into an uncomfortable pulling in her chest.

The more Wednesday looked around the tighter the uncomfortable feeling became. She looked to your side of the room to see nothing that resembled you. There were no hints of your personality in the room, the room stripped down to what was there before anyone moved in.

Wednesday moved to your side of the room and started looking around, hoping to find some form of evidence you were there. Maybe if you had left something behind she could return it. The first drawer she pulled contained one thing, the knife she gave you to protect yourself in case she could not. Did you leave it on purpose?

The uncomfortable feeling in her chest became almost unbearable. There was an urge to stay in the room and count her losses, but there was also an urge to go and find you. Wednesday reached down to pick up the knife, letting every possibility of why run through her mind — silently willing you to come back.

"Wednesday, what are you doing here?"

Wednesday whipped her head around at the sound of your voice, relaxing at the sight of you. She had never felt the need to hug someone before, the pull in her chest alleviated slightly, "I thought you had left."

"Nope, not yet, I am about to though. I came to grab that," you said, pointing to the knife while walking to grab it.

"You would've left without saying goodbye?" she asked, watching you meekly reach for the knife in her hand. Her chest starts to tighten again, negative thoughts filling her head again.

"No, of course not, I already said my goodbyes to a couple of my friends. You were the last one on my list, though if I didn’t you probably would've found a way to exact your revenge." you laughed, stuffing the knife in your pocket. Knowing you wouldn't leave without a proper goodbye put Wednesday at ease.

"That's correct," she nodded.

"Should I be expecting any letters this summer?" you inquired, changing the subject.

"Actually, Xavier gave me this last semester," Wednesday replied, pulling out a phone, "I don't use it much, but put your information in here."

Wednesday enjoyed the disgruntled look on your face at the confession. She hadn't told anyone, there was no need to since she doesn't use it. This however seemed like a good opportunity to bring it up. She's unsure if she could go all summer without hearing your voice.

"You want me to put my information in a device you don't know how to use?" you ask, a teasing grin stretching across your face. You decided to ignore the fact Xavier bought her a phone.

"Who said I don't know how to use it? Are you doubting my skills?" she asked sharply, her glare enough to have you cowering.

"No no, I would never," you said defensively, bringing both your hands up to show defeat. You reached for the phone and added your contact, "Though, I can assume you'll write letters if it gets too complicated?"

"Letters are preferred, but if the need arises, yes" she admitted begrudgingly.

"Perfect, I wouldn't want you becoming a stranger. Now," you lightly clapped your hands together, "I know you don't want to be a slave to technology but I'd be happy to teach you how to use it. It'd be nice to see your face more often than not"

"How would-"

"In due time, my dear Wednesday," you said, winking at her with a lovely smile sporting your face. She had to look away to hide her rapidly reddening cheeks. Taking a breath to calm herself, she cleared her throat,

"Kiss me,"

You tilted your head and raised an eyebrow, aiming to tease her. Seeing just how far you can stretch her patience, "Not asking but demanding for physical affection now? Who would've thought?"

"I won't ask again,"

"Yeah?" you whispered, leaning more into her personal space. The feeling of her breath fanning across your face sent chills down your spine, "And what're you gonna do about it?"

She continued to stare at you, not moving you out of her personal space. Her eyes scan your face, taking in every detail she could before settling on your eyes. Your gaze is soft, something Wednesday thought she'd never get tired of. Her eyes settled on your lips next, gaze lingering there longer than she'd like to admit.

You let out a shaky breath and looked down, the intensity of her stare making you nervous. Wednesday gently places her hand on your jaw, tilting your head up to look at her. Your lips parted slightly, wanting to apologize for the situation. Any thoughts in your head are silenced by her tenderly bringing your lips to hers.

The soft brushing of lips makes her hum, ever so slightly vibrating your lips. Wednesday would never tire of this, having you so close and intimately. She pulls you closer, effectively pushing out any space between you two. Instinctively putting your hands on her waist to bring her even closer, allowing the kiss to deepen.

A vibration force you to pull away. You rest your forehead against hers, taking a moment to calm down before pulling out your phone to look at the text. Wednesday lets her eyes scan your face again, admiring the flustered look you wore. The peaceful air is disturbed when you sigh, "I'm sorry, I have to go."

Wednesday unintentionally tightens her grip on you, not wanting you to pull away. You look at her through your lashes and quietly sigh, not exactly wanting to move either. You pull away slightly to plant a kiss on the top of her head.

"I'll miss you," you stated gently, pulling her closer to wrap your arms around her, inadvertently making Wednesday fluster.

"I would miss me too," she replied, trying to direct your attention away from her red cheeks and arms coming to wrap around you. You laughed at her comment. Wednesday could feel the vibrations of your laughter more than hear it. Both of you, are strangely content with staying like this. Amid your laughing, she whispered, "I'll miss you too, mi amor"

You smiled at her gently, not expecting her to say it back. Not wanting your time to end so soon you ask, "Walk with me?"

"Of course," unbeknownst to you, Wednesday is already planning the first get-together, text, and letter in her head.

tags: @alexkolax @rainbow-love4ever @o638 @tundra1029 @the-lazy-turtle

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday netflix

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adnauseum11 · 7 months

Text

Return to Base (John Price x Reader)

John helps you celebrate your last day of work.

2.2k word (longer one, sorry!)

CW: swearing, mild violence, suggestive themes

Feedback welcome!

Your last day at work comes fast, having only given one week notice. John has unlocked some sort of laissez faire demon inside you, encouraging you to do what you want with little regard for standard procedures. You can’t stomach the idea of sitting through two more weeks of mind-numbing torture, so you simply don’t, your former employer’s opinion on the matter somehow no longer consequential. You haven’t decided yet if John has been a bad influence on your already impulsive nature or just given you the confidence to do what you wanted all along. The idea of being wholly reliant on someone – even if it is John, one of the most reliable people you know – makes your toes curl in anxiety. The last few days of your period become an emotional rollercoaster but John, blessed man, takes it all in stride without so much as blinking twice.

It should come as no surprise to you that your belongings fit into a single banker’s box, but it somehow still does. Cleaning out your desk only takes a fraction of the time you’ve set aside for the task. Your lack of interest in decorating your space ought to have been a clue to your lack of enthusiasm for the job. Co-workers you have maintained tepid friendships with wish you well and eat cake on your behalf at lunch. You are supremely grateful that John can pick you up shortly afterwards, negating your need to navigate public transport - or any further well wishes with an awkward box in your arms. You don’t even manage to summon guilt over not learning the route from the wretched building back to the flat, John never giving you the opportunity. Your decision to quit came hot on the heels of moving in with him, the most tumultuous few days you can remember since your parents died.

When he arrives, even John is taken aback by how little you have to remove from the premises, knowing your penchant for making a space your own.

“This is it? Everything in only one box?” He’s eyeing you as if you’re about to drop the news that there are six more waiting in the lobby just out of sight.

“I know. I didn’t realize until I was packing how little I brought in.”

“Well, let’s be grateful for small mercies I suppose, love.”

John smiles, relieving you of the box and settling it onto the floor of the backseat so it doesn’t slide around. The drive home is far more relaxed than you had anticipated, suddenly no longer wracked with guilt over your choice. The finality of it more freeing than you had imagined. John is in a good mood too and it’s catching you up, so you agree to his suggestion to go to his local pub even though it’s still somewhat early. Your local pub now, too. John parks and you wander down hand in hand in the afternoon sunshine, not bothering to remove your box from the back seat of the car first.

John baits you with a familiar argument about his beloved Liverpool’s trade options before the transfer window and within two pints you are in fine form. You can’t help bickering with him to the amusement of the bartender, any concerns of work long forgotten. The two of you have set up shop at the end of the rail, next to where the waitress punches her orders in, out of the main flow of the room.

“What a waste of money, the man will be injury riddled, mark my words.”

You’re proselytizing, waving off John’s sputtering protests about a potential acquisition. He’s about to list all the goal stats for the player in question again when you cut him off, feeling your alcohol.

“Wanna make a bet? I’ve heard the stats twice now, hot stuff, but I don’t know what the past is going to do for his present - which is babying his ACL until it inevitably tears again.”

“What do you want to bet, love? Better be something you can stand to lose.”

John’s teasing, his arm resting on the bar, his focus mostly on you. He can see down the bar over your shoulder and motions to the bartender for another round when the other man looks to your corner. You bite your lip and smirk, not answering, waiting for his attention to resettle.

It only takes John about three seconds to catch up to the gutter your mind is currently in. His pupils dilate slightly, making his blue eyes look darker in the low pub lights.

“It’s like that, is it, love?” His voice deepens, pitched low for you only.

“Could be, if you want?”

“What kind of a question is that? Of course.”

He scoffs, thanking the bartender when he drops the pair of pints by your elbow. You hand one over to the mischievous man perched at at your side, his free hand working its way upwards from your knee.

“What’s a successful season then? Twenty goals?”

“Twenty? How about fifteen?” He counters, and you can’t help but laugh at his lowball offer.

“No, don’t be ridiculous, what will that prove? I’ll meet you in the middle at eighteen.”

“Alright love. Eighteen goals. What do I get when I win? Give it to me in detail.”

His fingers are hooking themselves into the edge of your back pocket, his sharp blue eyes trained on you intently.

You’re about to respond when somewhere further down the bar a glass shatters amid a round of shouting. It startles you and has John’s head jerking up, looking for the source. His palm settles on your upper thigh, keeping you in place as he slides off his stool, standing beside you. The disturbance is soon smoothed over, but John doesn’t return to his seat, hovering at your side instead. You know from prior experience he won’t key down if you stay at the rail of the bar as the volume only seems to be going up inside. The evening crowd is filtering in, younger and louder than either of you these days. You rest your hand on his chest, getting his attention back from the crowd.

“Do you want to go outside and finish these?” You hold up your nearly full pint and John’s nodding before you set it down again. He shrugs into his jacket again and you do the same, slinging your purse over your shoulder after sliding cash under one of the empty pint glasses to settle the tab. You grab your pint and follow John as he cuts a swath through the pub to the heaters set up out front for the smoking crowd.

It's quieter out here and the cool air gives you an excuse to press into John’s solid form. He’s still on edge but doesn’t pull away when you wrap his arm around your shoulders. You drink your pint as you try to ease him back into a conversation.

“What about our bet? You want to shake on it to seal the deal?” You redirect him to your previous conversation, hoping the lure of sexual favours will be enough to lift his mood again. It seemingly works, because he’s squeezing you and bending to press his mouth to your temple.

“Given the nature of the deal, that seems a bit too unfamiliar, don’t you think love?”

“Depends on what we’re shaking I suppose.” You smirk, bumping your elbow into his belly gently, making him chuckle lowly.

“I’d settle for lips if you are insisting on closing this deal here and now.” John answers archly, making you smile into your pint before you shoot him an amused look.

“Mmk, fair.” You raise up on your toes and kiss him, gripping his jacket with your free hand.

John’s lips are warm, in sharp contrast to the cool winter air and you steal a second kiss before releasing your grip on his jacket.

“For luck.” You grin and he swats at your ass lazily, fondness shining in his eyes.

“Cheeky, already cheating, love.” He chastises, his big body blocking most of the other pub goers, huddled outside around the heaters.

You are grateful to be outside in the falling dark, hidden from sight so no one can see you blush at John’s hands on your body. The buzz the alcohol is giving you is blending with the heady arousal his nearness brings, making you giddy and handsy. John’s handling his alcohol better, indulgent with your hands in his shirt and jacket, picking at him.

He relaxes more but he’s still on edge, his eyes constantly roaming. As familiar as you are with John, there are still some sides of him that you don’t see often, and his agitated side is one of them. You aren’t versed enough to know what helps ease him out of it and bite your lip in thought, shifting beside him. Likely getting some distance between yourselves and the increasingly rowdy crowd would be a decent start, you can’t help but think fuzzily.

“Let’s get out of here and finish up the leftovers at home, what do you say hot stuff?”

John brings his attention back to you and tries to hide his smile at your use of ‘home’ to describe his flat. He agrees easily, needing no further convincing and you take a last sip before handing him the nearly empty glass. He finishes off his pint and stacks the glasses, carrying them back to set on the bar for the staff. You turn and wait for him, rocking on your toes in the cold, missing his warmth at your side already.

An arm settles over your shoulders again, but the angle is all wrong, too low against your frame. You jerk your shoulders up to your ears, trying to dislodge the heavy weight of the stranger’s arm.

“Hey!” Your balance is shot from the beer, and you sway unsteadily as you try to get free, pressing into the stranger’s side more closely than you would prefer.

“S’alright babe, just helping you warm up, hey?”

“Get off of me, the fuck do you think you are doing?” You elbow the strange man hard in the ribs and his arm tightens around you, dragging you closer.

“Over here, we’ve got a heater for ya’.” You can smell the booze and cigarettes on his breath, his face way to close to your own. You scrunch up your nose and try to pull out of his orbit.

“I’m here with someone, get off!”

“Ah shame, he’s ditched you, has he? Nice looking bird like yourself ought to have -“

Just as you are debating trying to duck out of his grip backwards, John’s back looking positively thunderous.

“Oi!”

The stranger is suddenly dropping his own pint with a smash as John bends his arm back in a clearly unnatural angle, forcing him to let go of you to stay on his feet as he’s physically moved off.

“Fuck!”

The drunk man yells, drawing the attention of everyone nearby. John forces him onto his tiptoes with his vice-like grip, awkwardly stepping the drunk away from you.

“Fucking hands to yourself, you worthless git.”

John’s tone is black with menace and it straightens your spine with alarm.

“Christ, it’s alright John, I’m alright.”

The last time you saw John’s face so severe was during the break-in, which makes you pause in reaching for his arm to tug him away. Your hands flutter in front of you while you desperately try to get your alcohol-soaked brain to process faster.

“Apologize!” John’s ignoring you, jolting the man’s arm and making him yelp loudly in pain.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean nothing.” He half shouts and the crowd are murmuring, gossiping about what’s going on. You can feel your cheeks flame and bite your lip, anxiously twisting your fingers.

“Alright, it’s alright. We’re good.”

You try a soothing tone of voice, acknowledging the apology for the sake of the man’s elbow joint.

“What a load of shite.”

John shoves the man hard, his arm twisted back and unable to break his fall. He lands hard and heavy on his side, his shoulder at an awkward angle making him cry out. His mates rush forward to help him to his feet, talking over top of each other. You take that as your cue and wrap yourself around John’s arm before he can take a step forward.

“Please John, I’m sick of the police. Come on, let’s go home. He learned his lesson.”

You coax, taking a few steps away onto the sidewalk. He reluctantly follows, and you can feel the tension thrumming through his big frame when his hand wraps around yours.

“I would fucking hope so, the waste of skin.”

John all but spits at the crowd trying to help the drunk man and his injured arm up. None look brave enough to test their mettle against him in defence of their friend, to your silent and sincere thanks. His long strides quickly catch up with you, and then it’s you who has to scurry to keep pace with him on the walk back, his fingers firmly entwined with yours, tugging you along.

Next Chapter

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Ao3

#fanfic #captain john price #call of duty #john price x reader #john price cod #john price #friends to lovers #john price x f!reader #night out #slice of life #cod fanfic #fanfiction #ao3fic

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