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muiitoloko · 5 months ago

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Omg the fluff severus being a father!! Can we also get a fic where he and his wife discover they are having twins? In my mind palace that poor man had the happiest ending idc idc

Title: Double the Love

Summary: Severus and you learn that you’re having twin, and Severus faces the overwhelming realization that fatherhood will be double the challenge—and double the love.

Pairing: Severus Snape × Fem! Reader

Warnings: None.

Author's Notes: I absolutely loved writing this! But I have to admit, I was seriously wondering, how on earth do wizards even do ultrasounds? 😅 Since I couldn’t figure that one out, I just made it as magical and slightly ridiculous as possible, because why not, right? 😅 It’s a short piece, but I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it!

First, Second and Third part here.

Also read on Ao3

The sterile white walls of St. Mungo’s were a far cry from the dimly lit, comforting darkness of the Hogwarts dungeons, and the bustling noise of Healers moving in and out of rooms only added to your nerves. You lay on the hospital bed, your hands resting on your growing belly, feeling the faint fluttering of movement within. At 22 weeks pregnant, today was the day you would find out the sex of your baby.

You glanced over at Severus, who sat beside you with his arms crossed over his chest, his expression as stoic as ever. He wasn’t exactly the picture of calm, though you knew him well enough to recognize the subtle tension in the way his jaw tightened and the way his long, slender fingers tapped against his arm. He was just as anxious as you, though he would never admit it.

The memory of last night brought a small smile to your face. You had caught him at his desk, a quill in hand, scribbling something on a piece of parchment with a concentration usually reserved for complex potion-making. When you peeked over his shoulder, you were both surprised and amused to find a list of baby names—both for boys and girls.

“Trying to choose a worthy name, Severus?” you had teased, leaning against the back of his chair.

He had glanced up at you, his expression unreadable but a faint blush creeping up his neck. “A name is important,” he had replied curtly. “It must be fitting. I won’t have our child saddled with something… inadequate.”

You had laughed softly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “I trust you’ll find the perfect one.”

Now, as you waited for the Healer to arrive, the memory of that moment helped calm your nerves a little. Severus might be intimidating and stern on the surface, but beneath all that, he was already a devoted father—one who was taking the task of naming your child with the same seriousness he applied to everything else in life.

“Are you nervous?” you asked softly, your hand reaching out to rest on his knee.

Severus glanced down at your hand, his dark eyes softening ever so slightly. “Nervous? Hardly,” he replied, though his voice lacked its usual sharpness. “But I do wish this process would hurry along.”

You chuckled, knowing full well that was his way of admitting that he, too, was anxious. “Don’t worry, Severus. I’m sure the Healer will be here soon, and we’ll find out if we’re having a boy or a girl.”

He nodded, though his expression remained neutral. “Either way,” he said quietly, “the child will be exceptional.”

Before you could respond, the door opened, and a cheerful Healer stepped inside, her robes swishing around her as she smiled at you both. “Good afternoon!” she greeted, her eyes sparkling with warmth. “I hear we’re ready to check on the little one?”

You nodded, sitting up slightly as she prepared the equipment. Severus remained seated, though his gaze followed every movement the Healer made with an intensity that might have unnerved a lesser witch.

“All right, let’s take a look,” the Healer said, positioning her wand over your belly. The gentle hum of magic filled the room as the spell illuminated the area, and you watched in awe as the image of your baby appeared on the enchanted screen.

Severus leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing as he studied the image with the same level of scrutiny he used when examining a particularly difficult potion.

“There we are,” the Healer said softly. “And… oh!”

Your heart skipped a beat at her sudden exclamation, and you shot her a nervous glance. “What is it?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

The Healer’s smile widened, and she turned the screen so that both you and Severus could see it more clearly. “It appears you’re not having just one baby,” she said, her tone filled with excitement. “You’re having two! Twins!”

For a moment, the room was utterly silent. You stared at the screen, your mind struggling to process the words. Twins. Two babies. You glanced over at Severus, expecting to see some kind of reaction, but he was still as a statue, his dark eyes fixed on the screen. His usual calm exterior had been shattered by the news, and you could see the shock written all over his face.

"Twins?" he repeated, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Two?"

The Healer nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, two healthy little girls, from what I can see. Congratulations!"

Severus blinked slowly, his mind clearly racing as he tried to absorb the information. “Two girls,” he murmured, almost to himself. You watched him carefully, waiting for his response, but it seemed like he was still in a state of shock.

You couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing. “Two girls, Severus! We’re going to have two daughters!”

Severus slowly turned to look at you, his expression a mix of disbelief and what could only be described as mild horror. “Two daughters,” he repeated, his voice flat. “Two sets of diapers. Two mouths to feed. Two…”

“Two future boyfriends,” you teased, unable to resist poking fun at him. “You’re going to have to keep an eye on them, Daddy Snape.”

At that, Severus paled even further, his eyes widening as the full weight of what you had just said hit him. “Future boyfriends?” he muttered, his voice tinged with dread. “I hadn’t… considered that.”

The image of Severus Snape dealing with teenage boys showing up at your door to take his daughters out on dates was too much, and you laughed even harder, clutching your belly as the joy of the moment overwhelmed you.

Severus stood frozen, the image of two tiny forms flickering on the screen in front of him. The words still echoed in his mind: two girls. He blinked, his dark eyes wide with shock, as the reality of it sank in. Two daughters. Two daughters. The healer’s voice faded into the background as his imagination took off, propelled by the unrelenting force of his overprotective instincts.

He could almost see it—boys knocking on his door at Hogwarts, their foolish, eager faces trying to charm their way past him to court his daughters. His daughters. His mind raced, spinning out scenarios of teenage boys chasing after them in the corridors, their idiotic grins widening as they tried to impress with foolish stunts or—worse—terrible jokes. What if one of his daughters dated an idiot? Or Merlin forbid, someone like Potter?

No! The thought alone was enough to send a surge of panic through him. His face, usually so composed, paled visibly.

“Severus?” Your voice, soft and filled with emotion, broke through the haze. You had grabbed his arm, your eyes shining with tears—tears of joy, not fear. “Two girls, Severus,” you whispered, pulling him into a tight hug, your hands trembling as they wrapped around him. “We’re going to have two beautiful little girls.”

Severus blinked, returning to the present as he felt your warmth against him, your joy flooding over him. His arms, stiff at first, slowly circled around you, holding you close. He could feel the tremor in your breath as you buried your face in his chest, your tears dampening the fabric of his robes.

Two little girls. The words echoed in his mind again, but this time the image was softer—more intimate. He could see it now: two girls with your smile, your laugh, your bright eyes full of curiosity and mischief. They would have your warmth, your kindness—your fire.

He held you a little tighter, knowing how emotional you had been these past few days, and a wave of tenderness washed over him. His thumb gently brushed your shoulder, a small gesture of comfort.

“Two girls,” you whispered again, your voice breaking with joy, and he could hear the love in your words. “Double the love, Severus.”

Severus closed his eyes, resting his chin on top of your head, letting the moment settle around him. His heart swelled, a strange and unfamiliar feeling, yet it was not unwelcome. The weight of it, the sheer enormity of the love that was building inside him, was overwhelming. He had never expected this—any of this. He had never thought that someone like him would be capable of this kind of happiness.

The healer’s voice floated back into his awareness. “Would you like pictures of the babies?” she asked, her tone gentle.

Snape nodded without hesitation, his gaze still fixed on the screen, where the tiny forms of their daughters moved faintly, their lives just beginning. He looked down at you again, still holding him, still crying softly with joy. His hand found the small of your back, steady and reassuring.

Two little girls.

He could almost see them in his mind’s eye—two mini versions of you, with your delicate features, your bright personality, and your fierce determination. He allowed himself, for the briefest moment, to imagine them laughing and playing, their voices filling the halls of Hogwarts. And him… there, watching over them, protecting them from anything that might dare to harm them.

A small, uncertain smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he thought about it—two little yous. His chest tightened at the thought, but then a new fear crept in. What if they looked like him?

He swallowed hard, his mind immediately racing back to his own school days. His hooked nose. The way he had been mocked and ridiculed. The cruel taunts, the laughter, the sneers. He didn’t want that for them. He didn’t want his daughters to suffer the same way he had.

“What are you thinking?” your voice broke through his dark thoughts. You had pulled back just enough to look up at him, your eyes searching his face. “You’ve gone quiet.”

Severus hesitated, his hand resting protectively on your belly. “I was…” He cleared his throat, the words catching slightly before he forced them out. “I was hoping… that they’ll look like you.”

You blinked in surprise, then smiled softly, a knowing look crossing your face. “Severus,” you said gently, cupping his cheek with your hand. “They’ll be beautiful no matter what. Whether they look like you or me.”

He looked down at you, his eyes clouded with uncertainty. “I don’t want them to suffer… like I did.”

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice, and you shook your head, pulling him closer again. “They won’t,” you whispered fiercely, pressing your lips to his chest. “Because they’ll have you. They’ll have us. And we’ll make sure they know how loved they are.”

Snape stood there for a long moment, simply holding you, feeling the warmth of your words seep into him, dispelling the old fears. As he looked back at the image of their daughters on the screen, a sense of peace settled over him. Two girls. Two daughters. His family.

Our family.

And for the first time in his life, Severus Snape allowed himself to believe that he could truly have something this good, this pure. Two little girls with your smile. And even if they did have his nose… well, they would still be perfect.

#alan rickman #alan rickman x reader #severus snape x reader #severus snape

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angel-sweets666 · 8 months ago

Text

wrong photo! II

Denki kaminari x reader

the after events after part one (there’s smut in that, beware)

tags :@b0o0o @wtvbabes you two wanted a part two, it’s here (I’m so sorry for being offline for like a week)

warnings : mentions of smut, makeout n stuff. M!neta. (Yes mineta is a warning on its own.) it’s shorter than usual I’m so sorry I was so uninspired

READ FIRST PART TO UNDERSTAND(or don’t, idc 🎀)

SHIT YOUR HOMEWORK

You suddenly scrambled up from your cuddle spot next to Kaminari, grabbing your phone and checking the time. "Dude, it's 10 PM and I have homework due in an hour," you groaned, exhaustion clear in your voice. You glanced over at the naked blonde next to you, who was grinning smugly, acting all high and mighty despite being a virgin just 25 minutes ago.

"That was a good waste of 20 minutes, aye?" he said, a cocky smile plastered on his face.

"Oh, shut up," you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you quickly pulled your underwear back on. The urgency of your looming deadline added to your frustration, but you couldn't help but feel a hint of amusement at his newfound confidence.

"Wait, hey, where are my boxers?" he asked, sitting up and looking around the room in confusion.

you spotted his boxers on the floor and threw them at his face. "Here, catch," you said, a smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“OKAY EW.”

Kaminari quickly pulled the boxers off his face, his expression a mix of surprise and disgust. "What the hell was that for?" he exclaimed.

"Throwing your clothes around my room," you replied nonchalantly, not even looking up from your task.

The blonde huffed, pulling his boxers onto his hips in an attempt to cover himself. "Okay, so that was just rude," he said, crossing his arms over his chest and watching you as you pulled on your shirt.

"Yeah, well… womp womp," you shrugged, already picking up the pen you were using for your homework.

"OH, SO NO CUDDLES? WE JUST FUCKED AND THERE'S NO AFTERCARE? Rude…" he complained, his tone a mix of playful annoyance and genuine humor.

"Do you want me to mess up this homework?" you asked, giving him a pointed look.

"Better late than never…?" he ventured, trying to lighten the mood with a grin.

"DENKI."

"WHAT?" he replied, feigning innocence.

You couldn't help but laugh at his antics, despite the frustration of your looming deadline. "Just let me finish this, and then we can cuddle, okay?" you offered, softening your tone.

Kaminari's face brightened at your words. "Deal," he said, plopping back down on the bed with a satisfied smile. "I'll just wait here, then."

As you focused on your homework, you felt a sense of calm wash over you. Despite the chaotic nature of your relationship, moments like this reminded you why you enjoyed being with Kaminari. His lightheartedness and ability to turn any situation into a joke made even the most stressful times bearable.

The sound of your pen scratching against the paper filled the room, punctuated by Kaminari's occasional hums and movements. He was clearly trying to be annoying “hey what’s that?” He grinned and picked up a crumbled up piece of paper “a paper ballsack.” You rolled your eyes and kept writing.

“Mmmmmmkayy” kaminari slowly put the paper ball down, then picked up another thing “what’s that?” Kaminari picked up another thing, this time a stress ball. You looked over your shoulder to see what Denki had picked up this time “erm…. Pink ballsack”

“Mkay so not everything is a ballsack.” Denki looked at you with a look that only said “are you fucking serious rn?” “I’ve seen yours”

“UHHHHHMMMMM WHATTTTT? NOOOOOO???”

you put your pen down and turned your body to look at Denki “if you get dressed I’ll take us on a walk to the convenience store and we can get snacks and cuddles yeah?” You smiled warmly

you two got dressed and opened the door of your dorm

only to find that mineta had been listening to you two fuck. This. Whole. Fucking. Time.

Was this rushed? Yes. I have had no inspo so send in asks I’m begging

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winterzsurprise · 5 days ago

Text

Change My Mind [7]

Pairing: BTS x reader

SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants.

Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but then one day, you find out they're all your soulmates, a whole different can of chaos you don't think you can handle.

Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory, Attempts at Humor

Words: 8.6k

IM BACK

laptop problem is solved. Shit was shady though (i literally have to pay the guy money for his 'efforts' in lying to get my laptop fixed) but its worth the money so idc. Rushed to finish this so this shit ain't beta read nor proofed, that's for Vuinterro of tomorrow to stress about. Will still take long to post chapters, might take a month per chapter. It really depends since I'm using this fic to fix my horrid writer's block and brain fog but I plan to see this fic through so dwww

also, what do you all think about having purely the boys' pov at some point in the story? Been thinking about having the boys' perspectives once the courting starts but that's prolly just me

lastly, enjoy this chapter. I hope my tired mind was able to write my vision down clearly, I'll fix the mistakes and add more details later on. Pls comment or like, I'm in desperate need for validation lmao

<<Prev || Masterlist || Next>>

______

Jung Hoseok is not scared.

Sure he screams bloody mary at the sight of bugs a thousand times smaller than him, and yeah he’s easily startled but he’s not scared.

Especially not by a piece of paper, that would be ridiculous!

The reason he went to his noona’s house instead of heading straight to the dorms after the news broke out that his Seokjin hyung is tethered to you is because she needed his help on something, and being the dutiful brother he is, swooped in to save the day!

“At least wash the dishes for me if you’re going to hide in my house because you’re being a scaredy cat,” Jiwoo says from the kitchen archway, leaning on the wall with her arms crossed. “I still don’t get why you’re so scared of a piece of paper. The most it’ll do is give you a small cut.”

“Well, that ‘small cut’ still stings a lot!” He argued back, pulling the throw pillow closer to his chest. “And I’m not scared!”

It was irrational how he’s getting cold feet at the thought of the blood result. It’s not like he was hoping to see anything other than ‘negative’ there.

Jimin would argue that he’s being pessimistic for thinking so but it was the obvious answer if you looked at his family tree.

From his grandparents’ parents and down to him and his sister, there hasn’t been a single tethered from his bloodline like most of the world’s population. Unlike his Jin hyung who at least had one distant cousin who got a soulmate or his Yoongi hyung who at least had his grandparents as soulmates, his family was barren from such a blessing. His grandpa had joked once, saying their family was cursed for never birthing a single tethered. Ever.

Not even with the people they ended up had ever resulted in having a tethered no matter their family background..

For him to turn out to be a part of your nexus would be a miracle of the highest degree that would make the tales in the bible pale in comparison.

Daring to have himself tested is stupid, he already knew the result and submitting his DNA meant he was hoping.

But hope is nothing in the face of facts, he should be wishing instead; prayer sticks, shaman blessings and all that.

Hoseok knew he was being greedy, wishing to be a part of a nexus relationship as crowded as yours. Growing up with the rest, he knew how much of a handful Jungkook can be on his own, matched with Jimin who now possesses bottomless energy, he has no business trying to squeeze himself in places he can’t fit in.

Sometimes he thinks he’s being influenced by the fact that he’s being singled out in the group. Now that their oldest has joined the harem, being the odd one out oddly felt ostracizing, being subjected to Taehyung and Jungkook discussing courting gifts, and Yoongi talking to Namjoon about their soulmarks shouldn’t have made him feel bitter but it did.

“You saying that while pouting on my couch, miles away from your friends who now have your exam result, is not helping your case.”

“If you don’t have anything nice to say to your brother, you shouldn’t have said anything.”

“I’m saying a lot because I care about you. This,” She says, motioning to him to which he replied with an offended look. “Isn’t healthy. The more you’re hiding away, the more this will haunt you.”

“You’re just saying that because you’ll have hyung over soon.”

“That I am, so just get your shit together and go! I planned a night for us but I had to move it because of you.” She shot back but he knew it had no actual snark behind it. She had welcomed him with warm arms after all.

Hoseok had seen how his friends slowly fell in love with you while he continued to look at you and see a best friend. Seeing how everyone seems to have been captured by you, he got curious.

For a long time since debut, Hoseok had stopped perfecting his craft and pursuing his aspirations to pay attention to someone else. It was uncommon but he too once wished for a soulmate until practice, video shoots, and music production began to eat up most of his time and he forgot about his initial wish.

Seeing his brothers be taken by their best friend, his crush, he couldn't help but be curious how it came to be.

Was it because you were closer to their age and, for the lack of better terms, accessible to them that they had begun to seek the comfort of a lover in you?

“Do you think because she's also been busy with us that she began to seek comfort with us too?”

“Tae, just eat your breakfast.”

It was such a random thought from Tae one random morning, and Hoseok would’ve brushed it off like the other time he gets struck with an idea but this one stuck to him like an annoying ex. The idea loomed over him the whole journey to the company and back home. He grew hypersensitive to how he approached you since that morning and he began to notice the miniscule details he would’ve shrugged off any other day.

From how your touches would linger on their skin, how you’d comfortably lean in closer to them without batting a single eye at how unusual it may seem to others, he took note of them all. It was how he knew their leader’s feelings for you, even if the man himself hadn't noticed it yet.

Hoseok found his proof in Namjoon’s eyes that restlessly roamed the room until he’d find you in the bustle of the staff. It was also in the way he’d always reach out for you, may it be when you’d turn to leave and he’d catch a drama-esque scene where instead of calling out for your name, Namjoon would reach for your hand and speak to you with that soft look in his eyes and the genuineness in the dip of his dimples when he smiles.

Eyes never lie nor do the dimples on his cheeks whenever he grins, even when the beholder hasn’t realized it yet.

It was then did he realise how odd your relationship is with them and decided to take a step back to draw a line.

Friends, especially ones whose gender are opposite of each other, aren’t supposed to be as touchy and comfortable the way you and his brothers are. You didn’t say anything when you noticed and wordlessly respected his decision. He was firm on drawing the line, his sister had questioned his actions but he’s determined, nothing is going to stop him from going back on his decision.

At least until he got sick.

Without any of his brothers available to tend to him as they had to leave for Japan the very day he fainted—he had to pass out while talking to the migration officer, so embarrassing!—, he thought he'd power through it alone for a few days. But then you volunteered to stay back to take care of him and everyone just let it happen as if it's normal.

Which is not.

He'd understand taking care of him during the job but to take a leave of absence just to watch over him because his family is unavailable due to the rough weather at the time, in a house far too big for the two of you while the rest flies to another country. It wasn’t appropriate, not normal at all.

In the haze of his high fever, he had asked you how you were acting as if the situation was normal and in response, you had hit him lightly with the drenched towel you used to wipe his face.

“Don't be ridiculous. You're one of my best friends even if you’ve been acting up these past few days. I'm not about to leave while you're sick and alone in the dorms. If your family could come to Seoul, I would've left with the others so don't overthink. This is just me being a good friend.”

Cooking for him, wiping his face and making sure he's comfortable in bed—It felt far too domestic to be friendly.

Familial doesn't sound like the right word either. There’s nothing familial about the butterflies in his stomach when you had kissed his forehead good night that day as a joke when Jimin had called you or when you had woken him up the next day.

Oh how beautiful you were that morning.

He knew at that moment that the goddess of beauty had favorites when she made your skin glow softly under the radiance of the rising morning sun like a halo and had your messy bed hair look frustratingly good on you.

You were borrowing their clothes that day since you had already got your items shipped with the other staff, Taehyung’s white striped polo hung off on you like a dress and Jimin’s red basketball shorts gobbled up your form yet even with the fabrics dwarfing and hiding the curves of your body, he still thinks you’re the cutest sight he has ever had the pleasure of seeing.

You were especially cute in their clothes though.

In his feverish haze, all he could think about was how pleasant it’d be if you were to wake him up every morning like an angel welcoming him to heaven. What he’d give to the world to have you be the first thing he’d see in the morning.

Then you spoke and greeted him in that roughened sweet voice and Hoseok was gone.

Realization immediately had him freezing, tensing up as you let yourself fall across his blanket covered feet to groan about how sleepy you still are after putting down his medicine and breakfast on the bedside table. He hadn’t been able to reply, busy with tampering down the racing heartbeat echoing in his ears.

Looking back a year later, him falling in love with you wasn’t as odd as he thinks it is, uncommon but still cliche.

Jiwoo taking the space next to him made him jump, breaking off his line of thought.

“Seriously, just get it over with. The faster you see the result, the faster you can decide whether to move on or not.”

It was the most logical step to take but it felt…wrong somehow.

He couldn’t imagine a day where he’d look at you and never feel the tickles of butterflies filling his stomach or the warmth your fingers would leave behind after carding through his hair or tilting his chin up to have a better look on his makeup. It felt like an offense to the fates.

Although loving you has its downsides, with your obliviousness to their feelings whether intentional or unintentional often makes him want to pull his hair out, he’d never regret feeling the joy of admiring someone when he’s with you. Hoseok has never felt more motivated to produce music with lyrics far too romantic to come from someone who has never had a lover since pre-debut. Not that you’d see that of course.

He couldn’t remember how many times he found himself wanting to grab you by the shoulders to shake you whenever you teased him about his creations, and hoped it would be enough to let you know that all those cheesy lyrics he had uncharacteristically puked out was all because of you.

“Don’t you go souring your face like that, you know that I’m right.”

“And just because you sound right, doesn’t mean I’m gonna listen to you.”

Jiwoo rolled her eyes and turned to her kitchen, probably to take a pan and hit him upside the head with it or to save herself from seeing the pathetic image of her brother being a fool for love.

He knew not to hope, he repeated those words to himself but at the same time, he could sense the small, miniscule bead of it hidden within his heart, pushed down to the bottom of the barrel and awaiting its eventual death once he set his eyes on the negative results on his test.

In all of the times he got scared, Jung Hoseok has never been so terrified at the thought of being left out of your nexus. It would be the highest form of torture, a cruelest fate the heavens have dealt.

How would he function seeing all his brothers do all the things he had imagined himself doing? Due to how sensitive the bond is, he wouldn’t be able to get a feel of your touch for a year, maybe two if the gods deemed it funnier.

What is he going to do then? Die from envy?

He wouldn’t be able to survive, it would ruin him completely. That parasitic feeling would eat him up from the inside and eventually spill out of him, it would damage the relationship he and his brothers had established through hardships and time. Something he too treasured as he does you.

A chime rang out and his eyes immediately fell to his phone on the coffee table. From the familiar set of emojis on the name of the messenger, he reached over to answer to his Yoongi hyung.

[18:23] MinSyuga🐱: i know what you’re doing [18:23] Me: i don’t know what i’m even doing right now hyung [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: you may fool the others but im not like them [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: jiwoo had already asked me last week about this problem ur supposed to be fixing so dont even try to lie to me [18:23] Me: im just worried [18:23] Me: you know about my family history right? We never had a single tethered so idk what even possessed me to take that test with jin hyung when we already know the answer [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: i think you’ll be surprised [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: not that i’m spoiling or anything, im just saying that if jesus could turn water into rum, then you can be the first tethered in your family [18:23] Me: well im not a son of god am i? [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: don’t get sassy with me [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: im just saying, miracles can happen [18:23] Me: i think i already lucked out with our jobs hyung [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: i doubt that [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: come home tomorrow [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: the maknaes are planning a party for you [18:23] Me: LOLOLOL WHAT [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: they even bought two different cakes [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: wont spoil what they say [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: come home if you want know [18:23] Me: i will

Despite telling his hyung that he’ll return, he wasn’t sure if he’s going through that decision just yet.

“Did you at least bring a change of clothes with you?” Jiwoo chimes, reappearing from the kitchen archway.

“What if I don’t have any?”

“Then you’re sleeping in those.”

Despite her words, she eventually pulls out a pair of pajamas from her boyfriend’s temporary side of the closet for him to borrow. Sleeping that night was far from being an easy task when he could read and see from the images the maknaes are spamming the group chat, photos ranging from decent captures of moments to a blurry mess where the one holding the phone is running away from a figure that distinctly look like Jimin.

He tried to ignore the nagging feeling at the back of his head and the way his stomach seems to shrunk and eat itself up with every picture and video he sees. He truly does try to ignore the voice judging him for daring to squeeze himself in an already perfect dynamic.

Eventually though, the voices quieten and he falls asleep.

______

Jimin is falling in love with his soulmate.

It shouldn’t come as a shock to anyone but he's actually falling in love with his soulmate. Tingling butterflies in his stomach, skipping heartbeat, tickling warmth in the chest, the whole mile.

What started off as playful admiration where he’d tease you and lightly tug or pull your hair up while you were putting setting powder on his under eye, quickly developed into a giggly high school romance kind of love where he’d avoid your eyes just so his stomach would stop feeling weird and feel the heat of your touch linger from where you last held him.

Now that he’s thinking about it, the whole thing sounds silly because of course he’s going to fall in love with his soulmate.

The morning started as most mornings have begun for him since Jungkook’s birthday, with your face, bare and naked of any products, and the warmth of your body seeping through the fabric of his clothes. More often than not, he’d find himself coming to consciousness feeling your body weight pressing on his arms or your breath ghosting against his throat and he'd just freeze.

Every time it happens, electric shocks would run down his skin and he’d be taking a quick trip to the bathroom to calm his racing heart.

It was insane how often he had to lean over the ceramic sink so early in the morning, breathing heavily to try and ground himself before he reenters the room and sneaks back into his bed, but strictly keeping himself on his side of the pillow fort while careful to take your hand in his once again without waking you up.

But today, he found himself wishing for time to stop just so he could stare at your face at this very moment.

With the light sheen of the light filtered through the curtains bouncing on one side of your skin giving you an ethereal appearance, he found himself at a loss for words at the beauty presented before him. His eyes traced the lines of the long lashes kissing the apple of your cheeks, the slope of your nose, and down to the plush of your lips.

Jimin has lost count on how many times he has wondered about how it’d felt pressing against his.

In the peaceful silence of the early mornings, all he did was stare and wait for time to pass while wishing internally for the world to slow just so he could soak in the peace the morning brought.

Eventually though, he had to steer his attention elsewhere. Jimin rolls to the other end to reach for his phone on the bedside table.

He’s been scrolling on his phone for a couple of minutes, lurking in the fandom space—both international and local—when the door creaks open and Taehyung steps in with sleep-lidden eyes and body heavy with lethargy. Forgoing to close the door of their room, he trudged towards the bed like an overworked employee before promptly falling face first to the spot between you and him. He churned in the small space, making himself comfortable by throwing an arm around your blanket-covered form.

For a long while, the only sound in the room came from the occasional videos he plays.

It was weird. Having a soulmate who has multiple soulmates is weird.

He should be feeling disturbed seeing someone cuddle up to his soulmate but he wasn’t. Jimin, contrary to popular belief, is possessive, probably more than Jungkook was in his younger age. Although it wasn’t to the point of killing like people like to showcase in films these days, possessiveness for him is as tame as snaking arms around waists and narrowed eyes.

Maybe there’s a bit of pulling them aside for a quick reminder in the middle of an event but the point is, he’s possessive.

But he couldn’t find a single cell in his body who was bothered by the presence of someone else in the room.

This soulmate thing is weird.

When he laughed at a post, Taehyung dragged himself up to shoulder level just to see what he was laughing at before giggling himself. Suddenly, you push yourself up and turn to them with squinted eyes.

“Good morning, noona.”

“Tae? What are you doing here?”

“Oh, Seokjin hyung sent me up here to wake you both up—”

“It’s still too early!” she groaned, stretching her arms above her head. “I’m not built for working this early!”

“— he said if you don’t go down before seven, he’ll eat the can of smelly fish you bought for him in Sweden as a joke.”

You paused, the threat successfully shutting you up before you let out an exaggerated groan and dramatically burying yourself back into the pillow.

“Can’t a girl rest? I have a bad headache, and I don’t even know if the beating is Namjoon’s or mine.”

It’s easy to forget how there’s six different soulmarks affecting her all at the same time. From how she’d hear their leader’s heartbeat no matter how far, to the altered taste due to his Seokjin hyung’s mark, and to his Healing Touch. He couldn’t even fathom how much of a nightmare it is sensing everyone.

They eventually dragged themselves down to the dining room after a quick bathroom break. Jin had immediately greeted them with heaps upon heaps of pancakes with maple syrup drooling over the side and scrambled eggs on the table.

Yoongi and Namjoon were already nursing their cups of coffee on the table—with Joon hyung taking his rightful spot on one end of the table as the leader, Seokjin hyung taking the seat on the opposite side, and Yoongi next to their leader—Seokjin was occupied with his food when they arrived, one scrolling on his phone while the other crazily scribbled on his journal.

“You didn’t even try to at least cook me waffles, hyung. I’m hurt!” He exclaimed and the man rolled his eyes.

“In another life, if you were my soulmate, maybe I would’ve considered it.” Jin then flashed a smile at you before skipping back to the kitchen.

Jimin couldn’t help but notice how you shifted uncomfortably on your seat at the noticeably more generous portion on your plate and he switched his plate with yours, immediately shoving one into his mouth before his hyung returned. An action noticed by everyone in the room.

“Jimin,” Yoongi called out, voice gentle as a whisper. “Give me one.”

He followed, standing up to bring his plate closer to his hyung and passing it over, adding the eggs into the equation when Yoongi motioned him to add it. Seokjin returns when Jungkook has trudged out of his room and taking the empty space next to Taehyung.

Jungkook immediately noticed the generous amounts on his plate and immediately reached out for two pancakes with his fingers and plopping it down on his plate before taking three more from the middle dish and practically drowning his towers in maple syrup. As if it wasn’t enough, he reached for the softened butter.

When Jin returned, it was with another dishful of bacon and slices of apple. If he noticed the change of plates, he said nothing.

For a long while, they all occupied themselves with their food. A companionable silence

“What’s the agenda for today?” Jungkook was the first to break the silence.

“Yoongi hyung is coming with us to buy furniture for noona.” Jimin replied.

Taehyung then stops slicing his pancake and jutted out his lips towards Yoongi’s direction.

“Can I come with you?”

“I need your voice for the new song I’ve been working on.” Namjoon replied, looking up from his journal with a stern stare directed at the pouting boy. “You’ve been gone for so long, I have a couple for you to work on.”

“I can do that tomorrow, hyung. Let me go just for today? Hm?”

“I can go right? Since you need Tae’s voice instead of mine.” Jungkook sleepily chimed in, eyes still half closed and a hand raised halfway.

“You’ll do the carrying?” Yoongi challenges.

“I’ll even do the talking.”

Jungkook held his gaze with a small, playful grin, waking his face up which Yoongi matched after a couple seconds passed.

“Alright, you’re going with us, kid.”

“I have a touch-based soulmark, I need to come too!” Taehyung argued..

“It's not as drastic as Jimin’s. Even then, you’ve recharged enough.” Seokjin responds, pointing his fork at him.

But before Tae could reply, a shrill notification sound pierced through the air and Y/N pulled her phone out of the pockets of her sleep shorts. Eomma <3

Shit.

Seeing how fast the entertained lilt in her expression drops into dread, the table falls into a hush. As if sensing the approaching tsunami of words from her mother, Yoongi takes his mug and walks out of the room with Seokjin following close behind.

_____

“What did I hear about you getting a soulmate? You ungrateful child, I carried you for nine months and raised you with my blood, sweat, and tears yet this is how you treat me?!”

That was how your mother had begun the moment you had accepted her call. Her voice, despite being carried through such a small device, had blasted out, her uncontainable rage far too grand to be limited by the phone’s initial features. How a small woman could hold such an explosive anger and powerful voice is a wonder no one in the world has the answer for.

Hearing her voice through the speakers had Seokjin, Yoongi and Namjoon fleeing the scene, but not without karma immediately hitting their leader who had accidentally checked his shoulder on the wall on his way out.

Jungkook followed quickly, dunking his milk in one go and taking his plate with him as he jogged to follow his hyungs, Taehyung behind him.

Jimin had tried to leave but was stopped by both your entangled hands.

“So damn ungrateful you are! Didn't even tell me what was happening, a fucking lawyer knocked on my door and there I find out that my child is tethered. What was my daughter doing to forget to tell HER mother she had soulmates? Why did I have to hear it from someone I don't know?!”

“Did you really think you could leave me alone here?” I whisper-shout at him.

“Noona, let me go. I know we can go for five minutes now.”

“You’re really gonna risk our health for that?”

“At least don’t turn the camera at me, let me hide under the table.”

“Is that my new son-in-law Jimin?” Your mother had chimed, her tone taking a sudden turn. I turned the camera to him despite the insistent shake of head and wide eyes. “When you said you were also trying to find a husband for my daughter, I didn’t think you’d mean you and your brothers!”

“I know right?! Who knew I’d be one of the husbands I’ve been talking about, right auntie?”

“Already talking about marriage, huh? Y/N!” You turn the camera to you and find her smiling so wide you feel your cheeks ache for her. “Your soulmates got good heads on them, already thinking about marriage this early on!”

You shake your head.

While marriage had once been an issue you lost sleep on, you knew it was impossible to attain as idols. They still got stadiums to perform in, songs to compose and perform for the ARMY. Bangtan would continue on for years as long as they sing and dance or as long as their passion remains alive and roaring. They had worked hard to get where they are now, with the taste of glory and power that comes with their rise in fame, retirement is a far away dream when they’re just getting started.

Not to mention, your brain still struggles to accept your new reality despite the very apparent a red string connecting you and Yoongi over the table, and hearing Namjoon's heartbeat at the back of your mind. Hoseok hasn’t even checked his test result yet but your mother is already looking decades ahead.

“Ma please, you know that’s after they retire which is thirty years from now.”

“Jimin,” she calls out, lip jutted out in a pout and he leans over to get into the frame. “Are you guys going to make this old woman wait to see her daughter be a bride? I’m not gonna last long you know? My bones hurt every morning and my appetite is beginning to weaken.”

Jimin laughed nervously, eyes wide as he turned to you for help but you're not going to jump in when his face has calmed the raging beast.

“Don't think for one second that I'm done with you, you ungrateful brat! You haven't even told me why you broke it off with Guwon when he was about to propose!”

“D-does it really matter now?” You winced when Jimin narrowed his eyes at you. Suddenly remembering what was drowned out by the sudden revelation of your soulmate links.

“It doesn't, global popstars sound much better than a lawyer anyway but would it hurt you to tell me what happened exactly? Don't you think your mother deserved an explanation at least after I toiled away trying to find you a husband?!”

“Don't you worry about it anymore, auntie,” Jimin says, voice like a gentle caress trying to tame her fierce anger. “Noona now has seven to care for her now, we'll get to that bridge when it comes but for now, how about we treat you girls to a nice spa out in Jeju?”

“Oh? I wouldn't want to impose on your bonding period, but I'd like to take that offer later. How so nice of you, Jiminie.”

“It’s not the best of gifts but I assure you that there’s plenty to come. Expect a couple of fruit baskets from Yoongi hyung and other stuff too from the others.

“You seven better take care of my daughter, it would be a shame if you all mucked it all up and I have to resent you all.” Your mother sighed, feigning sadness. “Anyways, expect a visit from Soo-in soon dear daughter. She will deliver my heartfelt joy in my stead, your father still needs my help around the house, damn pride of his, he shouldn’t have mindlessly tried to fix the roof himself.”

A shiver wracks down your spine at the thought of your mother’s gift after ghosting her and Soo-in for almost a week now.

The last time your sister had visited, it was after Jungkook had ‘ran-into-the-sunset’ with you on his shoulder and him covered from head to toe in black. The vile wrench had switched your sugar and salt, hid the lids of your tupperwares, hid lego in your shoes before eventually ending her wickedness by hiding the wires of your charger and the wifi router’s adapter.

If your mother only threatened to hang you upside down, Soo-in made sure everything in life became irritatingly inconvenient.

“She won’t be pinching my ears?”

“She’s classier than that, I raised her first so expect more. I love you, dear daughter! Visit us soon with your seven soulmates!”

__________

[Today, 12:42] [12:42] The BADDEST💅: so let me get one thing straight and two things gay [12:42] The BADDEST💅: ur linked with bangtan? [12:42] The BADDEST💅: THE ENTIRE ROSTER????? [12:43] The Mother😌: congratulations Y/N, I’m so glad you finally found your soulmates😊 [12:43] The Mother😌: always knew you’d be tethered [12:43] The PRETTIEST🌸: so who’s the biggest?👀 [12:43] The BADDEST💅: girl I don’t even think you got the libido for two [12:43] The BADDEST💅: how tf are you gonna handle seven?!?!?! [12:43] The BADDEST💅: she was in the hospital u fiend @The Prettiest [12:43] The BADDEST💅: she needs to be worrying about a different type of d to receive [12:44] Queen Oblivious😮‍💨: SHUT IT MINHYUK [12:44] Queen Oblivious😮‍💨: hoseok isn’t confirmed yet so its just six for now [12:44] The Prettiest🌸: bet you wish he’s your soulmate too [12:44] The Prettiest🌸: cuz the way that man thrusts his hips in baepsae? [12:44] The Prettiest🌸: 🥵 [12:44] The Mother😌: have some faith in her, she’ll manage [12:44] The Mother😌: gift giving for your birthday just got a whole lot easier though😊 [12:44] Queen Oblivious😮‍💨: wdym by that @The Mother😟 [12:45] The BADDEST💅: NO BUT SRSLY [12:45] The BADDEST💅: HOW TF ARE YOU GONNA MANAGE SEVEN [12:45] The BADDEST💅: ONE DICK PER DAY??? SEVEN DAYS A WEEK??/ [12:45] The BADDEST💅: lowkey wish that for me BUT [12:45] The BADDEST💅: HOW?????? [12:46] Queen Oblivious😮‍💨: MINHYUK PLEASE [12:46] Queen Oblivious😮‍💨: JIMIN IS LITERALLY NEXT TO ME [12:46] Queen Oblivious😮‍💨: NABI CONTROL YOURSELF [12:46] The PRETTIEST🌸: don’t scold me when ik ur thinking about it too [12:46] The Mother😌: when’s the soulbinding? [12:46] Queen Oblivious😮‍💨: Jihae please, its only been a few days [12:46] The Mother😌: back in my days, people bound themselves and completed the bond on the first day… [12:47] The PRETTIEST🌸: minhyuk i think you're forgetting the best part out of this [12:47] The BADDEST💅: wut? [12:47] The PRETTIEST🌸: imagine Alexa’s reaction when she finds out our dearest Y/N is Seokjin’s real soulmate [12:47] The BADDEST💅: OH [12:48] The BADDEST💅: she better HOPE she’s not in bighit anymore the moment the NDA expires [12:48] The BADDEST💅: im going to be the most annoying fucker she’ll ever meet [Today, 13:02] [13:02] The BADDEST💅: no but srsly how? [13:02] The PRETTIEST🌸: R I P that pussy ayee

________

There’s nothing more infuriating than picking furniture with your soulmates, you decided.

Yoongi wanting everything to be practical and of the greatest quality matched with Jungkook’s penchant for only liking soft things, it was hell to be stuck in a furniture warehouse with the both of them. Jimin had never looked so godly when he insisted on letting you pick the brownish-red persian rug to be placed under the wide round canopy bed you had eventually settled with after a long debate with the rapper and the youngest.

What started as Jimin towing you around the shop to place you in front of every furniture before a mischievous grin spread across his lips, and the strength of the bed frames immediately turned sour when you both found your other two companions calmly arguing about the color of the curtains—they both eventually settled with thick white, and beige curtains, to Jungkook’s dismay.

He wanted black-out curtains for when he eventually ends up sleeping in your bed, he claimed.

The current dilemma, however, had you going silent as the prickles of irritation began to itch your skin.

Yoongi wanted to commission a carpenter he knew for a custom desk made for you and is insisting on you to skip shopping for tables and shelves, and take the cheapest one for now but Jungkook thinks it’ll take too long and wanted the boho vanity table set with a huge round mirror with stained glass around the edges. The rapper wanted the place you’d be doing work on, to be built with the practical features while keeping it organized but Jungkook, although he saw his hyung’s vision, refused.

“Imagine waking up with a canopy, great quality bed, amazing decor, then you have to stand up and work on a rackety blue plastic table because you have to wait months for that desk. How does that sound, hyung?”

Jimin not picking sides only added to the pounding headache you’re having.

While you understand both sides of the argument, either of those options didn't make you feel less guilty about having them skip work to spend all this money for your room, even if you knew how barely of a scratch their collective funds will take.

If Taehyung hadn't had the foresight to hide your wallet while you were in the shower with Jimin, the guilt would've been lighter.

You envy Jin who has been prickling your tastebuds with honey glazed fried chicken back in bighit, the lingering taste on your tongue making your stomach uncomfortably churn in hunger.

The disguises could only last for so long before people start noticing how familiar your soulmates’ eyes are, seeing as they’re plastered everywhere in the major cities. For the public to see your hands entangled in the pocket of Jimin’s coat would fuel the press for a year; hell, a century even with how the media moves these days.

As Jungkook’s voice picks up, you reach for the red string and Yoongi halts, looking down at the connecting line before gently grabbing it too.

‘Head hurts’

‘No more’

The rapper lets out an exhale and Jungkook stops.

‘Sorry’

‘Forgive?’

“Ok, so how about we take the set and I commission my guy then we’ll change it out once it's done?”

“Deal.”

Next to you, Jimin sighed in relief. “Thank god that’s settled, I thought I was going crazy listening to them debate on what’s better.”

“I don’t think either of them has ever fought for something they wanted that much.”

You turn to Jimin and a teasing smirk grows on his face.

“They love you like that, noona. Wanted nothing but the best of the best for you.”

In a different context, you would've easily brushed off his comment but having the warmth of his touch thrum from your hand to your toes, the healing touch always at work, your cheeks flushed dark and you lightly slapped his arm.

Ever dramatic, he clutched his bicep and winced.

“Why are you hurting me like this?”

“Please, we have regeneration as our soulmark. You're barely hurt.”

“I'm gonna bruise and the fans are gonna see it then I'm telling them how much you like hurting me!”

________

When Hoseok arrived it was with a chorus of loud bangs!. The man had leapt at least a foot or two from the shock as confetti rained on him.

Once he recovered though, he rained curses on the mischievous maknaes—and surprisingly, Yoongi and Namjoon too but they were spared due to one having his hyung privilege and Namjoon having retreated to the kitchen before his hyung had recovered from the shock.

Jin had clapped him in the back when he entered the dining room, fitting the huge and frilly birthday hat on his head and taking a picture of his dumbfounded reaction before the man could even realise what was happening.

Seeing them celebrate such a small thing, an odd feeling settles in your heart. You try not to be a killjoy but you couldn't ignore the mass settling on your gut.

Everything continued on as normal, everyone acted like they had before Jungkook's confession. They find out their links to you and suddenly, the past is behind them. As if you hadn't—although unintentionally—led them on and hadn't rejected three of them. A soul link appears and every fault was forgiven.

It wasn't only you who seemed to be feeling this way though.

Namjoon too it seems, seeing how he had kept his distance. Not in a bad way but rather a respectable, perfectly platonic way. You guessed it'll take long before the information would sink in for the non-believer, he was the one who had treated you more professionally than the others. You'd feel his concerned eyes ever so often but other than that, he'd treat you like a fragile glass.

Never to be touched and never to be perceived too long, fearing the weight of his gaze is enough to make you crumble.

(Or was it just you turning something that was normal before into fuel for your restless mind with the soulmarks now in the picture?)

You knew Namjoon is just having a hard time settling down with the fact that he's in a nexus connection with you but the ugly voice at the back of your head whispered a different tale. All of them are negative and judged far too harshly than you normally do yourself.

Jungkook bets his hyung will break after the third week, Tae says a month, and Jimin slyly says next week. You think it'll take Namjoon at least half a year before he properly processes him being tethered to someone, a non-believer.

The thumb that began to caress your knuckles snapped you out of your thoughts and you immediately found Jimin’s concerned eyes.

“You okay?”

You nod but he knew you better. Luckily, he lets it go.

“Open it, open it!” Jungkook chants, bringing everyone to gather around them.

Hoseok nervously laughed, placing down his car keys, phone, and wallet on the table before flipping the envelope’s flap.

Unconsciously, you leaned forward as he carefully tears the paper, the sound seeming to echo loudly in the silence of everyone’s nervous anticipation. As his brothers had gone from standing at a respectful distance to noisily looking over the main dancer’s shoulder, Jimin had tugged you closer to join them, standing in front and peering over as Hoseok flips open the first fold.

Then out of nowhere, Yoongi had a burst of energy and screamed.

Everyone jumped at his sudden burst of energy making Hoseok’s hand shoot up to his heart and the three maknaes snapped their head to their hyung. The man in question laughed noiselessly, satisfied with the reaction he garnered.

“Hyung, why did you do that?! I just got out of the hospital and you want to send me back again!”

“You’re practically invincible, what are you talking about?” Yoongi shot back.

“Just open it, all I’m seeing is your information hyung and that’s boring!” Taehyung cuts in. “I already know what your blood type is, your last name—”

“You go open it then—”

His words died on his tongue when Taehyung snatched the paper up from the envelope and pulled it open. But before he could start reading the result, Hoseok took it back.

Waiting as he read through his results felt like watching the presidential race on the tv, heartbeat rising every time the opposing candidate gained more than the man you elected. You worried your bottom lip with your teeth. His eyebrows furrowed, his frown deepening as his eyes wandered lower and you began to panic.

Why are you even nervous?

Aren't you being too greedy for wanting to have Hobi too?

Hoseok then crumbled into the floor, curling up to himself as he clutched the paper to his chest. Instantly, everyone panics as his heart shattering sobs echoed in the living room.

Suddenly, the colorful decorations hanging on the wall and the balloons scattered on the floor made

“Hoba? What’s wrong?”

“Hyung come on, don’t make me nervous like this!”

“What did it say?”

Jimin falls next to him, your hand momentarily forgotten to comfort his hyung and Jungkook follows, hugging the sobbing man while Seokjin reaches for the crumpled paper peeking out of Hoseok’s curled up form, a grim expression on his face.

“I am writing to inform you of the results of your recent soulmark evaluation and tethered status assessment. After a thorough examination and review of your diagnostic tests, it has been confirmed that you are,” Seokjin takes a deep breath then releases it shakily, a wide smile spreading across his lips. “Indeed tethered.”

You let go of the breath you had unconsciously held in as everyone in the room began to celebrate. Jimin pulled Hoseok to stand, laughing as the man continued to weep before reaching up to fix the birthday cap Seokjin had slipped onto his head. Jungkook, unable to stop himself from ridiculing his hyungs whenever he could, pulled out his phone to record them.

“How do you feel knowing you’re the first ever tethered in your family?”

Taehyung follows by placing his phone under Hoseok’s chin like a mic.

“You must be so happy being the first Jung to have a soulmate since the dawn of time, sir. Please tell us what you’re feeling right now.”

“Get that fucking… camera off my face or I’ll break it.”

Hearing this, Namjoon turns to the maknaes. “Stop teasing him, Seokjin hyung isn’t even done reading it.”

Despite this, Jungkook didn’t stop recording but Taehyung had skipped over to look over Seokjin’s shoulder.

“I think you’ll want to read this one yourself, Hoba.” The oldest says, handing the paper over to the sniffling man.

With his result back in his hand, Hoseok straightened himself, clearing his throat as Jimin gently wipes his tears off of his cheeks.

“This means you have a soulmate, a unique and profound connection that is both rare and significant. Furthermore, based on the characteristics of your soulmark and the energy patterns observed, there is a high probability that your soulmark is of the altering type.”

“They have the technology to figure out the soulmark type too?” Yoongi asks, surprised.

“Unfortunately, the global fated registry haven’t figured out a way to pinpoint what soulmark our patients have. It is with our deepest—”

“Didn’t know that, had mine cancelled when I figured it out before the results came.” Seokjin replied. Beside him, Taehyung pulls up his phone to rapidly type out whatever he had in his mind.

“I wonder what kind of altering mark it is. There’s a lot of documented ones but what if it’s also a new soulmark? A revived one from the 19th century like Jimin’s?”

“That’s unlikely.” Yoongi refutes.

“You don’t know that.”

With the initial elation ebbing away, everyone continued the celebration seated around the dining table where Jimin had parted from you to take out the congratulating cake from the fridge to light up and serve in front of their hyung who had almost toppled over with how hard he laughed seeing it.

Yoongi had insisted they also take out the apologizing cake so it wouldn’t go to waste. Upon hearing this, the group broke out in laughters, unbelieving until Jungkook brings out the ube flavored cake with the sentence “sorry your family nerfed your potential to be a lover boy.” placed on top in red icing.

The excitement never faded away through the night, dinner was lively, as if they had swept the four daesangs on both award shows. But instead of being influenced by the joy you feel down the red line from Yoongi and the practically vibrating maknaes sitting across you who keep cutting through conversations with suggestions on what soulmark their hyung might have, you find yourself standing behind a tall wall.

When everyone cheered and raised their mugs to toast, you only felt yourself mentally retreat further as a mass settled deep in the pit of your gut.

Seeing the men around you with wrists decorated in thick bands of gold that cost more than your yearly wage, faces flawless from careful maintenance, and names carrying the weight of their country’s pride, did you really deserve them?

You, who was a nobody staff they just happen to gravitate to due to the closeness of age, matched with the members of the world’s biggest boyband. They weren’t just out of your league. You’re the human on earth wishing to reach the stars from another, far away galaxy, yet by fate’s generosity, you were given the chance to see the beauty of them from up close.

How does one come from dating sleazy men with oily hair and faces akin to an infant’s drawing to being tethered to superstars everyone in the world would sacrifice a life for a chance to talk to them?

When everyone had begun to retire for the night, Jimin had silently guided you back to his room. The sensation of him pressing a kiss on your forehead cuts off your thoughts, his arms wrapping around you in a tight hug grounding you further.

“Are you with me now, noona?”

“Of course, I always am.” You answered with a scoff, pulling away and he frowned.

“I could sense your feelings the entire dinner, don’t try to lie to me.”

Even in the shades of his room bare of any bright lighting, you feel Jimin stare past your physical body and peer into your soul. In the harsh darkness with only you and him standing in it, you felt exposed, stripped to the barest bone under his gaze.

Never have you ever hated having a soulmate than you do now with someone perceiving your feelings openly, sensing the slightest shift in your mood with a brush of skin. It's annoying, scary yet at the same time relieving that there’s someone who could hear the tune of the noise in your brain.

Not many people have the same luck you have, seven soulmates with one of them granting you what technically is immortality, who else wins at life like that?

But do you really deserve it? Deserve them?

“Stop that. You deserve this, deserve all of us. If someone thinks otherwise, tell me their name and I’ll go beat them up.”

You laugh. “You can’t do that, that’ll stain your image.”

“I don’t think you understand just how important you are to me, noona.” He says, pulling you closer to him. “Before you think about it, I’ll beat someone up for you with or without the soulmarks.”

The image of someone with the face of an angel and a sweet demeanor like Jimin jumping someone in the parking lot to fight for your honor shouldn’t have made you cackle the way you did. The warm rumbles from your linked hands spread across your body and the thoughts were immediately silenced.

“I know you wouldn’t like it but I’ll be telling the other guys about this. I don’t like how you think you’re undeserving of all this when you do, in fact, deserve this bond after sticking with us through thick and thin. You saw all of our flaws and helped us in our bad days, you may think you haven’t done much to warrant this kind of luck but you do.”

Jimin pressed his lips on your forehead and your heart skipped a beat.

“Namjoon hyung might have a problem expressing it, Yoongi hyung might not show it openly like Jungkook and Taehyung does, but they share the same sentiment. It’ll take them time to be more expressive so I hope you find it in yourself to be patient. We’re still in the adjusting phase so if anything bothers you, don’t hesitate to tell us.”

Tears were streaming down your face at this point, eyes burning as they poured out like a waterfall. The softness in his voice has eased its way into your heart and dispelled the gloominess surrounding it, replacing it with a crashing wave of relief followed by the warmth provided by the soulmark.

You didn’t realise how much your thoughts had been wearing you down until tonight. Comforted by his words and the tightness of his hug, the dam finally breaks and you falter in his hold.

“Shh, cry it all out, noona.”

“I-I shouldn’t be crying over something so stupid like this.”

He shakes his head. “It's not stupid. Don’t say that.”

There’s a tug on your pinkie and you feel the string grow heavier. Immediately, Yoongi’s concern bleeds into you.

‘Why crying?’

‘What happened?’

“Let’s go lay down, noona. I’m feeling the ache in my muscles bending down like this.” He says lightheartedly, giggling. “Don’t worry about answering the others, I’ll handle it later.”

Guiding you to the bed, Jimin tugs you to fall into his arms and you let yourself be pulled into his chest.

Between the sound of Jimin and Namjoon’s heartbeats, and his fingers tracing slow circles on your back while the other hand massaged your scalp, it was easy to be lulled into sleep. In the echoing sound of your sniffles and hiccups, his sweet humming permeates through the air. His song was familiar yet your sleep addled mind took a second to realise what it was.

Serendipity, your mind eventually supplied.

For a moment, in the solace his arms offered, the world became quiet and you fell asleep, forgetting to worry about what chaos yesterday will bring.

_________

TAGLIST: @wildestdreamsblog @canarystwin @prettywheenicry @jmnscutie @sassy-snassy @misuguru @11thenightwemet11 @yoongibaybee @rinkud @bri602 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @marvel-potter-1d-korea @comingupwithacoolnameishard @sooha-neul @juju-227592 @coffeewanderer @x-uno @diamonddia-mond @eggsysstuff @dearmyfavoritepeople-bts @sld88 @katsukis1wife

#bts x reader #bts x reader poly #bts x fem!reader #bts x y/n #bts x you #kim namjoon x reader #kim seokjin x reader #min yoongi x reader #jung hoseok x reader #park jimin x reader #kim taehyung x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #namjoon x reader #jin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader

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misaerabl · 2 months ago

Note

Could you please write about sevika comforting reader after the read has just found out some important in her life has died (Idc who u pick as dead but Ik I would love to read it!)

Steady as the Storm

WARNINGS/content: just death i guess, sweet sweet sevika

A/N: wrote this like in one seating very quickly, lmk if you want more hehe loved this!

The news arrived like a punch to the gut, leaving you hollow and gasping. The phone call ended, but its weight lingered, the words etched into the fragile quiet of your apartment: She’s gone.

Your legs buckled as you stumbled inside, the door swinging shut behind you with a dull click. The air felt too thin, the walls too close. You barely made it to the middle of the room before grief caught up with you, crashing over you like a tidal wave.

The sound of boots on the hardwood pulled you from your spiral. Sevika stood there, her broad frame filling the doorway, her sharp gaze softening the instant she saw you. She didn’t ask right away. Instead, she crossed the room with quiet determination and reached for you, her metal hand resting against your shoulder like an anchor.

“Hey,” she said, her voice low and steady, like the hum of distant thunder. “What’s going on?”

Your throat tightened as you tried to answer, but the words refused to come. A single sob broke free, and before you knew it, Sevika’s arms were around you, pulling you into her chest.

“It was my grandmother,” you choked out finally, your voice cracking under the weight of it. “She’s gone. This morning. I didn’t even—” A fresh wave of tears overtook you. “I didn’t get to say goodbye.”

Sevika didn’t flinch, didn’t tell you to pull it together. She just held you tighter, her chin resting lightly against the top of your head. Her silence spoke louder than words—I’m here. Let it out.

“I should’ve done more,” you whispered, guilt laced through every syllable. “I should’ve called her more often. Should’ve visited. She—she probably thought I didn’t care.”

Her grip on you tightened just slightly, a wordless reassurance. Finally, she pulled back enough to look you in the eyes, her face steady but soft in a way you’d rarely seen. “Don’t do that,” she said quietly, her voice rough but not unkind. “Don’t punish yourself. You loved her, right? She knew that.”

You nodded, but the tears kept falling. Sevika brushed a strand of hair from your face, her metal hand surprisingly gentle. “Love like that doesn’t go unnoticed. I promise you, she knew.”

She guided you to the couch and sat beside you, keeping close, her arm draped protectively around your shoulders. You curled into her side, her warmth grounding you in a way you desperately needed.

“I don’t know how to do this,” you admitted, your voice breaking. “How do I just… keep going without her?”

Sevika sighed, a heavy sound that rumbled through her chest. “You take it one day at a time. And when it gets too heavy, you let someone help carry it. You let me help carry it.”

Her words settled over you, quiet but unyielding. You closed your eyes, her heartbeat steady beneath your ear. For a while, the two of you sat like that, the silence broken only by the occasional sniffle. Sevika didn’t rush you, didn’t fill the quiet with hollow reassurances. She simply stayed, an unwavering presence in the storm.

When your tears slowed, she reached for a tissue, pressing it into your hand. “You want to tell me about her?” she asked softly, as though the words might shatter the fragile stillness between you.

You hesitated, then nodded. “She had the best laugh,” you began, your voice trembling but steadying as you spoke. “And she used to sneak me sweets when my parents weren’t looking. She told these ridiculous stories—half of them weren’t even true—but I loved them anyway.”

Sevika listened without interrupting, her hand resting on yours. When you faltered, she gave your fingers a reassuring squeeze, silently urging you to continue.

“She sounds like she was something else,” Sevika said when you finished, her voice low and warm.

“She was,” you whispered. “I just… I thought I had more time. I always thought there’d be more time.”

Sevika leaned back slightly, her eyes meeting yours, firm and unflinching. “It’s never enough, is it? But listen to me—you loved her the way you knew how. That’s what she’d hold on to. Not the missed calls or the visits you didn’t make. She’d hold onto you.”

Her words hit something deep inside you, loosening the tight knot of guilt that had wrapped itself around your chest. You nodded, tears slipping silently down your cheeks.

“Lean on me,” Sevika said, her voice barely above a whisper. “As long as you need to. I’m not going anywhere.”

You let out a shaky breath, leaning against her once more, the solid weight of her beside you a balm for the ache inside. The storm still raged, but for the first time since the call, you felt like you weren’t weathering it alone.

#sevika #sevika x reader #sevika arcane #sevika x female reader #sevika x you #sevika arcane x reader #arcane #lesbian #arcane fanfic #arcane fan fiction #sevika fic #sevika fan fiction

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ssa-dado · 5 months ago

Text

5 - Antithesis

Aaron Hotchner x bau!fem!reader

Genre: angst, slowest burn in history

Summary: The BAU tackles a complex case involving international victims and cryptic messages. Hotch’s growing insecurity intensifies as an agent returns from an undercover operation, revealing his close past with you. At the hotel, you and Hotch have a heated argument, exposing hidden vulnerabilities and unspoken boundaries between you two. Hotch struggles with his feelings of being just a replacement and questions his connection with you. Rossi confronts Hotch, encouraging him to be the partner you truly need.

Warnings: Usual CM case stuff, grooming (it feels to me, at least. To someone wouldn’t but idc), angst

Word Count: 6.1k

Dado's Corner: the dreaded chapter, I've been working on it for a week and still I'm not completely satisfied yet. I had to use another OC character, I'm sorry if you're bothered with that, but even if I hate him with all my heart he will be helpful in the future to narrate Y/N's backstory. If this broke your heart, synthesis might even more

previous part ; masterlist

Hotch’s gaze dropped, the weight of your accusations settling on him. “I thought that’s what was best,” he murmured, the admission almost painful. “I thought… I thought it was enough.”

●

It was yet another early morning at the BAU, and as usual, you walked into the office to find Hotch already at his desk, a cup of black coffee in hand, looking as composed and sharp as ever. No matter how early you tried to get in, Hotch always seemed to be one step ahead and especially today, you couldn’t help but comment on it.

“You know, Hotch, that’s 76 coffees you owe me now,” you said, dropping your bag on your chair and crossing your arms, pretending to be stern. “Maybe it’s time to rethink your strategy. You could try showing up late, just once. Shake things up.”

Hotch glanced up, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I could, but where’s the fun in that? Besides, I have to keep beating you just to remind you of your constant failure.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning against the side of his desk. “Wow, Hotch, who knew you were this petty? I bet you’d stay up all night just to make sure you’d beat me here.”

He chuckled softly, not denying it. “Well, someone has to keep you grounded. Can’t have you thinking you’re invincible, partner.”

In the past couple of months, the term “Partner” had become a running joke between you two. Whether by design or coincidence, Gideon and Rossi kept pairing you together on cases, and even when they didn’t, you’d find yourselves seeking each other’s opinions anyway – you were desk mates after all, it was impossible not to rely on each other’s expertise. Yet the nickname stuck, a testimony that had made working together more natural than either of you could have ever predicted.

Your familiarity with Hotch’s desk arrangement had grown, too. You knew his precise system of organizing case files, the way he stacked them according to urgency, but today, something was different. As you glanced at his desk, your brows furrowed in confusion: the stack of case files was unusually tall, casting an odd shadow that didn’t quite match its usual shape. It looked as if something bulky was hiding underneath.

“Hotch, what’s with the fortress of case files?” you asked, pointing at the strange shadow. “Are you hiding something under there?”

Hotch hesitated for a moment, as if he didn’t expect to be caught in the act. With a slight, amused shrug, he grabbed the files and lifted them off the hidden unknown object – or the unob - revealing a thick book on architecture history.

You raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised. “A World History of Architecture?! Didn’t take you for the type, I’m surprised.”

Hotch looked down at the book, his expression a mix of embarrassment and pride. “I picked it up after the Frank Lloyd Wright case,” he admitted, almost shyly. “That night we spent going over his designs at the library, I don’t know why but something about it stuck. I guess I wanted to know more. So I’ve been reading this during my ‘waiting for you to show up’ time.”

You smirked, leaning in to examine the book. “SSA Aaron Hotchner, secretly an architecture buff. Who would’ve thought? Next thing I know, you’ll leave the Bureau and go to architecture school, you would still owe me 76 coffees though.”

He scoffed playfully, closing the book and setting it aside. “I don’t think I’m quite ready to go that far. But it’s been... nice. You know - learning something just because I want to, not because I have to.”

You gave him a teasing nudge. “Hey, don’t underestimate yourself, partner - maybe one day you’ll be the next Frank Lloyd Wright of the FBI. Designing prisons, interrogation rooms, you name it.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I think I’ll stick to profiling, but thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Just as you were about to tell him your kitchen needed some renovation – so he could start with something easy – an unexpected way-too-familiar voice interrupted from behind.

“Y/N!”

You turned around, and there was SSA Peter Rogers - one of your closest friends you ever had since you were fifteen - standing in the bullpen with his easy smile and that overly confident stance of his, just as you remembered him.

“Pete!” you exclaimed, a genuine smile spreading across your face as you rushed to hug him, the familiar warmth on your body you missed so much made you hold on to him a little longer. “What are you doing back so soon? I thought you were still overseas.”

Peter shrugged with a modest grin. “Operation wrapped up early. Figured I’d come back and see what kind of trouble you’ve been causing around here.”. That smile of his had the ability not to change one bit since the first time you saw each other, causing you to travel six years back in time.

▪︎

It was the first day of your mother’s Italian Literature class at the university. You were just fifteen, juggling between high school and university courses, your hunger for knowledge insatiable as a shield from what was daily happening between the walls of your own house. You always sat in the front row, scribbling notes furiously, letting your brain disconnect from reality in order to lose yourself in the lyrical beauty of Leopardi’s poetry.

Peter had been sitting a few rows back, finishing his degree in linguistics. He’d noticed you immediately, you were quite easy to spot as you were visibly way too young to sit in that room – and if it wasn’t enough, you made sure to ask at least a question to the professor, at least once in the lesson, always being deeply engaged with the material. Hence why after that particular class, he approached you with curiosity.

“Hey, you’re not the typical student, are you?” Peter asked, leaning against the desk beside you. “You’re taking university classes while still in high school? That’s quite impressive.”

You looked up, a little taken aback by his easy confidence but not put off. “Yeah, I’m kind of…double-booked,” you replied with a shy smile. “I just really love literature. My mom’s a professor here, so she lets me sit in when I can.”

Peter nodded, intrigued. “I’m Peter, by the way. Linguistics major. So you must be some kind of prodigy, huh?”

You laughed. “No, not a prodigy. Just…curious. I love philosophy, languages, psychology, all of it.”

The two of you clicked instantly, and since that encounter both of you would always exchange notes, in order to make sure none of you ever lost a word said in the class. Peter became a sort of unofficial mentor, “Have you ever thought about profiling? It’s all about understanding people, their languages, their motives. With your skills, you’d be amazing at it.” He asked one day after class.

That was the very day you learnt what a profiler was.

▪︎

Peter greeted Hotch with the same familiarity. “Hotch! Good to see you again, man. I missed having my desk buddy around.”

Hotch stood up, shaking Peter’s hand with a polite but reserved smile. “Welcome back, Peter. I heard about the undercover operation. You handled it exceptionally well, no one expected for you to come back so soon.”

Peter shrugged, his usual modesty in place. “Thanks, Hotch. It was a tough one, but we got the job done.” He immediately turned his gaze towards you “Y/N, who knew you would have stolen my desk too”

Hotch raised an eyebrow, glancing at the two of you briefly. That “too” echoed in his mind, the sudden realization just hit that there was more history between you and Peter than he’d previously understood, founding himself feeling like an outsider.

Peter, ever observant, caught the flicker of something in Hotch’s expression. “So you know Y/N? She’s one hell of a smart cookie,” he said, looking between you and Hotch with a teasing smile.

You rolled your eyes playfully, brushing off the compliment. “Oh, please Pete let’s not start with this just yet”

Peter laughed, leaning closer to Hotch as if about to reveal a secret. “Did she ever tell you she can sing? Like, really sing. She’s incredible. I’ve heard her at a few college events back in the day.”

Hotch looked at you, surprised, taking in this new piece of your past. “No, she never mentioned that.

You felt your cheeks heat up, flustered by Peter’s unexpected praise – especially because you were both standing in your workplace. “That’s because it’s not important,” you said, trying to steer the conversation back to safer territory. “Besides, Peter’s just exaggerating. I’ve only been in the field twice with Hotch anyway, so there’s not that much to tell, most of my work has been here at the office.”

▪︎

A year ago, you attended a conference at the FBI Academy, and Peter was there as a speaker, discussing linguistic analysis in criminal profiling. It was the first time you’d seen each other in years, and the connection was immediate, even stronger than your days together at the university.

‘’Y/N is that really you?! You’ve grown so much you’re making me feel kind of old” Little did you knew that you would spend the entire evening catching up, sharing stories of your separate journeys still having in common your mutual love for the complexities of language and behavior.

“You’re exactly where you’re meant to be,” Peter told you as the two of you sat at a table, away from the noise of the main event. “I knew it from the moment I met you. You’ve got the mind for this work.”

You’d been touched by his confidence in you, feeling like the teenage girl he’d mentored all over again. “Thanks, Pete. But you’ve always been the one pushing me forward, I don’t know if I’d have chosen this path without your nudging.”

Peter’s smile was genuine, warm. “You would’ve found your way, Y/N. You always do.”

▪︎

The more Hotch listened to the two of you catching up, the more he felt that gap, as if Peter was pulling you back into a shared history that he hadn’t been part of.

Peter grinned, nudging you playfully. “Always aiming for perfection, huh?

You tried to brush it off, cheeks warming under their combined scrutiny. “Oh, please. That was a long time ago.”

Peter shrugged, turning back to Hotch. “But she hasn’t changed. I can see it in your eyes, you know?! Same drive, same brilliance. So, how’s she been doing? What cases has she solved?”

Hotch took a moment, his expression unreadable as he considered Peter’s question. “She’s been doing great,” Hotch said finally, his voice measured. “We’ve worked on a few tough cases together, a few high-profile cases. She’s brilliant, as you know, we’ve had our hands full. But it’s good to have you back - we can always use the extra help”

Peter nodded, his enthusiasm palpable. “Looking forward to jumping back in”

Before anyone could say more, Rossi approached, cutting through the atmosphere with his usual flair. “Well, looks like we’ve got our team for the day. Gideon’s out, so Peter, you’re coming with us. We’ve got a complicated case ahead, and I’d rather have all hands-on deck, we might be in desperate be of two linguists on this one”

Peter’s eyes flicked to you, then to Hotch, his smile never wavering. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The team’s arrival at the police station was met with a wave of unease that hung heavy in the air. The case they were stepping into was far from simple. Multiple international tourists had been brutally murdered, each crime scene marked by cryptic messages in different languages. This was a killer who thrived on complexity, and with every new clue, the puzzle seemed to grow more intricate.

Rossi led the team inside with his usual calm authority, his eyes scanning the room with the practiced ease of someone who had seen too many crime scenes in his career. Peter and Hotch moved in tandem, flanking him on either side as they entered the station. The moment they stepped inside, the chaos enveloped them like a wave crashing on the shore.

The police station was a flurry of frantic movement and tension. Officers darted between desks, paperwork scattered in their wake, and phones rang incessantly, demanding attention that no one seemed able to fully give. The space, clearly not designed to handle the intensity of a high-profile investigation, felt claustrophobic and stifling, the walls closing in under the pressure of a case spiraling beyond control.

The air was thick, not just with the stress that permeated the station but with the unmistakable grit of dust being churned by the old, neglected air conditioning unit overhead, blowing more dirt than relief, only adding to the oppressive atmosphere. Everyone was on edge, their nerves stretched thin by the weight of a situation they were ill-equipped to handle. Rossi could almost taste the desperation in the room, a palpable sense of urgency that clung to every officer as they hustled to keep up with demands they were never trained to meet.

Rossi exchanged a knowing look with Hotch, both of them wordlessly acknowledging the uphill battle they were about to face - not just against the unsub but against the limitations of a team clearly overwhelmed.

The lead detective, a grizzled man with a permanent scowl, approached Rossi, barely acknowledging the rest of the team. “Agent Rossi, we appreciate the Bureau’s help, but I hope you realize this is a time-sensitive situation. We’ve got international press breathing down our necks, and the mayor’s about ready to pull his hair out.”

Rossi nodded calmly, his authoritative presence immediately establishing control. “We’re here to provide a profile and assist in any way we can. What can you tell us about the latest victim?”

The detective began briefing but his eyes kept darting towards you, flickering with something between doubt and annoyance. Finally, he couldn’t hold back any longer. “I’m sorry, but are you sure you brought the right team? She looks like she should be at a college lecture, not a crime scene.”

The comment hit like a slap, and you felt the familiar burn of frustration flare up. You’d been here before, countless times, actually. You were used to your youthful appearance and academic background drawing skepticism, but that still didn’t make it any easier to swallow, especially in that particular case. Before you could respond, Peter jumped in, his voice carrying a mix of defense and pride.

“Detective, she’s not just some college student. Y/N’s one of the best linguists you’ll ever meet, and she’s cracked more complex cases than most agents twice her age. I’d trust her instincts over anyone else’s, any day.”

There was a quiet confidence in Peter’s words that seemed to force the detective to take a second look, though his skepticism remained stubbornly in place. Hotch, noticing the tension, stepped forward, his expression firm. “Agent Y/L/N’s skills are exactly what we need for this case. If anyone can figure out what the unsub is communicating, it’s her.”

The detective hesitated, then gave a reluctant nod. “Fine, but we don’t have time for trial and error. Every minute we waste is another chance for him to strike again.”

“We’re all already aware of this, Detective. I’m sure you know that making my work any more difficult than it already is isn’t going to benefit any of us.” You finally had the courage to bite back.

As you settled into the briefing room, you felt Peter’s hand gently squeeze your shoulder, a silent but reassuring gesture as he said, “Don’t let it get to you.” You glanced at him, grateful for his unwavering support, and gave a small, determined smile in return. You were here to do a job, and you weren’t going to let some old-school cop’s doubts throw you off your game.

Once inside, the team gathered around the evidence board, covered in photos, maps, and printed copies of the unsub’s cryptic messages. Hotch and Rossi started dissecting the behavioral aspects, but your eyes were immediately drawn to the linguistic patterns.

Peter set up next to you, and the two of you fell into an easy rhythm, just like old times. “This one’s in German,” Peter pointed out, highlighting one of the messages. “It’s a proverb that loosely translates to ‘The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,’ but it’s the context that’s strange. He’s placing blame close to home.”

You nodded, your mind already racing through the implications. “And this one in French, ‘Nul n’est prophète en son pays’ - ‘No one is a prophet in their own land.’ He’s building a narrative where he’s the misunderstood hero, vilifying his victims in the process.”

Hotch watched from the corner of his eye, noting the seamless back-and-forth between you and Peter. It was clear that you two shared a deep understanding of each other’s thought processes, effortlessly piecing together the unsub’s motives and the cultural implications behind each message.

Rossi leaned over to Hotch, his voice low. “They’ve got something, don’t they?”

Hotch nodded, keeping his expression neutral even as a flicker of something uncomfortably familiar passed through him. “Yeah. They do.”

As you and Peter continued to dissect the messages, the detective returned with another dose of skepticism. “So, what’s the point of all this? We know he’s targeting tourists, but what’s the endgame?”

You hesitated, feeling the weight of his judgment holding yourself to punch him in the face, but Peter jumped in, his confidence never wavering. “The messages aren’t just random: they’re statements about identity, belonging, and betrayal. He’s targeting people who represent something he feels threatened by, probably linked to his own experiences.”

The detective was confused by the complexity of the message Peter was trying to communicate but at least he seemed less doubtful. Hotch and Rossi exchanged another look, Peter’s ability to not only support but elevate you was undeniable, and it left a lingering question in Hotch’s mind that he couldn’t quite shake, an unresolved history between you and Peter that was palpable to everyone in the room, even if no one dared to say it aloud. As the team continued to piece together the unsub’s twisted narrative, it became increasingly clear that the linguistic clues were the key to unlocking his motive.

“Here’s the first message,” Peter said, pointing at a wall covered in scrawled Italian text. “‘Chi semina vento, raccoglie tempesta.’ He’s quoting an old Italian proverb. It translates to ‘He who sows the wind shall reap the storm.’ Classic justification tactic. He’s blaming his victims for their own deaths.”

You nodded, running your fingers along the paper. “He’s using cultural proverbs to deflect responsibility. It’s not just about justifying his actions; he’s making a statement that he’s in the right, that the victims somehow deserved this.”

Peter smirked, recalling your sharpness from years ago. “You know, you’ve always had this annoying habit of being right. Remember that time back in your mom’s class? You corrected Professor Ricci about Dante’s theological influences.”

You laughed, half-embarrassed. “Oh, God, don’t remind me. I just couldn’t let it go.”

Peter turned to the others, Rossi didn't throw away his shot. "Remind us, Peter. I'm not going to let an opportunity like this slip from my fingers"

Peter jokingly cleared his throat. “Y/N stopped the guest professor right in the middle of the lecture and said,”

He made sure to pitch his tone up in order to mimic yours “While Dante’s work is often linked to the influence of Saint Augustine, we also need to remember that his beliefs were also shaped by the dominant philosophy of his time: Platonism, especially the Neoplatonists and Plotinus.’ The whole room was stunned, and Professor Ricci just stood there.”

Hotch couldn’t help but smile, picturing a younger version of you challenging a university professor with such confidence. Yet there was something more bubbling up in his blood, this was another glimpse into a part of your life he hadn’t seen, hadn’t known. It made him feel strangely out of the loop, like an outsider looking in.

Peter continued, still caught up in the memory. “You finished him when you also provided proof to support your thesis”

“Of course, how else was I supposed to-“

He immediately cut you off. “Early Christian thinkers adapted Greek philosophical ideas, particularly Plato’s concept of eternal forms from which the material world originated. This was quite convenient for the Christian theologians of that time, indeed this philosophical influence is evident in the biblical phrase - and the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.' You had everyone in the room, including the professor, rethinking what they knew about Dante.”

You shrugged modestly, glancing at Hotch, who seemed both amused and thoughtful. “I wasn’t trying to show off. It just… bothered me that no one pointed it out – and because of that my mom forbid me to attend her class for two weeks straight. Pete, I’m still thankful for your notes.”

Hotch chuckled softly, meeting your eyes. “Some things never change.”

The team continued working for hours straight, but the frustration began to mount. Despite your and Peter’s best efforts, the linguistic puzzles refused to crack completely. The police officers were growing visibly impatient, and you could feel their skeptical glances as they hovered around the room.

One officer, who had been particularly dismissive, sneered as he walked by. “So, this is the genius team the FBI sent us? Still no answers?”

The comment hit harder than it should have, and for a moment, you felt the sting of self-doubt. Peter, noticing your silence, shot the officer a glare. “We’re not here to waste time, Detective. We’re here to solve this.”

Peter leaned closer to you, his hands grabbing your shoulders, speaking softly so only you could hear. “Don’t listen to them. We’ll get it, like we always do.”

You nodded, trying to focus on his words rather than the creeping sense of inadequacy. Hotch watched the exchange, noting the way Peter seemed to know exactly how to lift you up when you needed it most. He wanted to say something reassuring himself, but the moment passed, leaving him feeling strangely sidelined.

The hours dragged on, and eventually, the team left the station to get some rest. At the hotel, Rossi and Hotch were assigned to share a room, while you and Peter were given the one next door. As you walked down the hallway, Rossi turned to Hotch with a pointed look.

“You know, Aaron,” Rossi said with a grin, “if I catch you working tonight, we’re gonna have words. You need sleep just as much as the rest of us. I’m serious when I say I’m a light sleeper, so I swear, if you keep me up with that damned desk light, you’re a dead man.”

Hotch gave a tight-lipped smile, appreciating Rossi’s concern – even if he expressed it in his own unique way - although he knew he’d never be able to turn his mind off. “Don’t worry, Dave. I’ll try my best.”

On the other hand, in your room, you and Peter settled in, and immediately surrounded yourselves by case files and coffee cups. You tried to solely focus on the work, but as the night wore on, the conversation drifted, after all it had been over six months since you’d seen each other, and there was a lot to catch up on. Peter leaned back, studying you with an easy smile.

“You’ve changed, Y/N,” he said, his tone light but sincere. “You’re still that perfectionist who can’t let a puzzle go unsolved, but… there’s something different.”

You glanced at him, surprised. “I don’t know about that. I’m just… trying to keep up, I guess.”

Peter reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear in a gesture that was both familiar and affectionate. “You’ve always been better than just keeping up. Don’t forget that.”

You found yourself caught between the comfort of Peter’s presence and the tug of unresolved emotions that you hadn’t quite figured out.

“Let’s go to sleep, shall we? I think we’ve done enough work for today” He winked at you as he placed his hand on the small of your back guiding you towards the bed.

“Oh don’t worry, you should sleep though. I think I might go down the lobby to clear my head for a bit.” You lied to him, but you couldn’t ignore your gut feeling telling you that there was something else you hadn’t considered yet.

Similarly, just across the corridor, the case weighed heavily on Hotch’s mind, and despite Rossi’s threat, he knew he wouldn’t rest until he’d figured out what was missing. Hours passed with Hotch lying in the dark, the puzzle pieces of the case refusing to align, finally, at nearly two in the morning, he couldn’t take it any longer. Careful not to wake Rossi, he grabbed his files and slipped quietly out of the room, making his way to the lobby to continue working.

To his surprise, he found you there too, hunched over a table with notes sprawled out, lost in concentration. You looked up when you heard him approach, unable to hide your surprise.

“Partner,” you said with a grin, noting his rare appearance in his white t-shirt, checkered blue pants pajamas, with the slippers provided by the hotel at his feet. “I’ve got to admit, this is new. Did Rossi finally threaten you into losing the suit?”

Hotch smirked, taking the seat across from you. “He did, actually. But desperate times, right? I didn’t think anyone else would be up.”

You chuckled, enjoying the casualness of the moment despite the late hour. Hotch spread out his files, his brow furrowing as he glanced over them. “I think there’s something we’ve been missing, there’s a pattern in the language choices. It’s not random. He’s escalating with each message.”

You leaned closer, your fingers tracing the messages. “You’re right. It’s chronological. He’s building something: a timeline, like each phrase is a step toward his endgame. It’s not just blame; it’s justification.”

Hotch nodded, grateful for the way your mind seemed to work so fluidly alongside his, especially in the late hours of the night. But as you continued to dissect the sequence, Hotch’s thoughts drifted back to earlier, watching you and Peter work so seamlessly together. The old familiarity, the easy way you bounced ideas off each other, it had been hard to ignore. And now, in the quiet of the night every sensation was amplified, especially the ones he’s been trying to brush off for the entire day, they stung a little more than he wanted to admit.

The ease of the moment was shattered when Hotch suddenly broke the flow of your thoughts with a wry comment. “You know, I’m surprised you’re even here working. I figured you’d be busy... catching up with Peter. He’s been flirting with you nonstop since he came back.”

You froze, your jaw tightening as his words sank in. The casual, almost careless tone hit a nerve, and you could feel a flicker of anger flare up inside you. “What’s that supposed to mean, Hotch?”

Hotch leaned back, crossing his arms, trying to mask the hint of frustration that was seeping through. “Nothing. Just an observation. It’s not like you haven’t been a little distracted since he got back.”

You stared at him, incredulous. The casual arrogance in his words struck a nerve, and before you could stop yourself, the frustration that had been building all day came spilling out. “You really think you know everything about me, don’t you? Just because we work together, you think you’ve got me all figured out.”

Hotch’s expression tightened, caught off guard by the sudden burst of anger. “That’s not—”

“No, let me finish,” you said sharply, your voice steady but laced with a quiet intensity. “You don’t know me, Hotch. You have no idea what I’ve been through or what I’m dealing with. You’ve worked beside me for months, calling me partner, acting like you’ve got me all figured out, but you don’t. You don’t know the first thing about who I am or what’s going on beneath the surface.”

Hotch opened his mouth to respond, but the sting of your words left him speechless. You were relentless, every word cutting through his composure. “You think just because we’ve been working together constantly, you’re entitled to know me? To judge me? But you know what, Hotch? You’re wrong. You don’t know a damn thing.”

Hotch’s jaw clenched, the carefully maintained façade he wore slipping for just a moment. “I’m not judging you,” he said, his voice low but strained. “I’m just trying to figure this out, okay?”

“Figure what out?” you shot back, your frustration boiling over. “The fact that you’ve been constantly analyzing everyone around you while keeping yourself locked away? You think that you’re the only one capable of reading people like an open book? You act like you’re open and honest, but you’re not. You insist on wanting to be called ‘Hotch’ on the job by everyone, and you think I wouldn’t catch onto that? You do that because ‘Aaron’ is too personal and ‘Hotchner’ is too formal. You straddle the line because you’re scared to be either. You’re terrified of being too close to anyone, yet you don’t want to seem too distant. It’s like you don’t even know who you are.”

Hotch stared at you, your words hitting deeper than you knew. You had seen right through him, through the carefully constructed barriers he put up to keep everyone at a manageable distance. He didn’t know how to respond because, for once, someone had called him out on the one thing he feared the most: his own inability to truly connect.

“I keep things professional because it’s easier,” Hotch admitted, his voice tinged with frustration and a hint of vulnerability. “Because it’s safe.”

You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. “Safe? You call this safe? You’re so busy keeping people out that you don’t even realize how much you’re missing. We’ve been partners at work, sure, but that’s all it’s ever been, right? Professional, compartmentalized, no mess, no feelings. That’s how you want it.”

Hotch’s gaze dropped, the weight of your accusations settling on him. “I thought that’s what was best,” he murmured, the admission almost painful. “I thought… I thought it was enough.”

You sighed, your anger waning but the hurt still fresh. “You don’t have to figure out anything, you said that yourself – I thought - It’s not enough for you Hotch, and not even for me.”

There was a long, heavy silence between you, both of you staring at the scattered papers on the table, as if the answers you sought could be found in the scrawled handwriting and cryptic messages. But this wasn’t something that could be solved with profiling or deduction. It was messier, more personal, and neither of you were sure how to navigate it.

“I’m sorry,” Hotch said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “For making you feel like you’re just another piece of the job.”

You nodded, the tension easing but not entirely gone. “I appreciate your apologies but if you really want to change things up all you have to do is to agree to be vulnerable with me, that’s all.”

You turned your attention back to the case, pushing through the lingering discomfort to focus on what you could control. You worked in silence, each of you lost in thought, both aware that this argument had pulled something to the surface that couldn’t be ignored.

By the time you finally cracked the pattern in the unsub’s messages, the sun was beginning to rise.

As Hotch made his way back to the room at nearly 4 a.m., he was trying to be as quiet as possible, mindful not to wake Rossi. But as he slipped inside, he was met with the sight of Rossi already awake, leaning against the edge of his bed, arms crossed, his expression a mixture of amusement and disapproval.

“Couldn’t resist, could you?” Rossi’s voice was low but carried a playful edge, tinged with the knowing tone of someone who had seen this behavior from Hotch too many times before.

Hotch tried to hide his fatigue, rubbing a hand over his face as he set the files down on the desk. “It was important. I found something we missed. Had to double-check.”

Rossi’s smirk didn’t waver. “You found something, huh? Or did you just need an excuse to get out of this room and clear your head?”

Hotch stiffened, but he knew there was no point in denying it. “We figured out the sequence, the messages weren’t just random. They were chronological, like a timeline leading to his next target. We were close, but we couldn’t afford to miss it.”

Rossi nodded, his expression softening just a little. He knew Hotch was right; they were on a tight timeline with no room for errors. Still, he couldn’t resist teasing his friend. “You could have figured that out in the morning, Aaron. You can’t solve every problem by burning the candle at both ends.”

Hotch sat down on his bed, glancing at the clock, Rossi’s words lingered, cutting through the tension Hotch had been carrying all day. “I know. But you said it yourself—we can’t miss anything.

Rossi studied Hotch for a moment, his voice dropping to a softer, more serious tone. “You’ve been different since Peter came back,” Rossi said, watching Hotch’s reaction closely. “It’s like you’re working twice as hard, pushing yourself even more than usual. What’s going on?”

Hotch’s expression tightened, his usual stoic demeanor wavering under Rossi’s probing gaze. He knew exactly Rossi could read from his face what had just happened between the two of you. “I just… wanted to make sure we didn’t miss anything,” he repeated, his tone defensive.

Rossi wasn’t buying it. He moved closer, sitting on the edge of his own bed, facing Hotch directly. “You’re not fooling me, Aaron. I’ve seen this before. You’re not just worried about the case. This is about Y/N, isn’t it?”

Hotch looked away, pretending to be preoccupied with the files on his lap. But Rossi’s words hit too close to home, and he couldn’t ignore the knot of emotions that had been building inside him since Peter’s return. “It’s not what you think,” Hotch said quietly, though even to him, it sounded unconvincing.

Rossi leaned back, giving Hotch a knowing look. “Look, it’s natural. You and Y/N have been working closely, you’ve got this rhythm. Peter comes back, and suddenly you’re reminded that you’re not the only one who clicks with her. But it’s not a competition, Aaron. You’re more to this team, and I’m sure you are to her as well, than a stand-in.”

Hotch’s jaw tightened. He had spent the last few months building a partnership with you, appreciating your insights and the way you challenged him. But Peter’s return had stirred up insecurities he hadn’t even realized he had.

“It’s not that,” Hotch said finally, though the weight in his voice suggested otherwise. “I just want to make sure we get this right. Peter’s good at what he does. It’s just… different.”

Rossi gave him a pointed look. “Different isn’t bad, Hotch. And you’re still you. You don’t have to prove anything: to her, to Peter, or to anyone else.”

Hotch nodded, though Rossi’s words did little to ease the knot in his chest. “Thanks, Dave. I know.”

Rossi watched him for another moment before standing up, his tone lightening as he made his way back to his bed. “Just remember, she was never looking for a replacement for him while he was gone. She’s looking for a partner. And you’ve already proven you can be that.”

Hotch lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Rossi’s words echoed in his mind, he knew he needed to get some sleep, but his thoughts were restless. It wasn’t just about the case anymore, it was about finding his place, about understanding what you truly meant to him beyond the walls of the BAU. As he finally drifted off, he promised himself that whatever happened next, he wouldn’t let his insecurities cloud his judgment. He’d be the partner you needed, and maybe, just maybe, he’d find a way to fit into your life outside of work, too. If you ever let him after today.

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #hotch #hotch x reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds x reader

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sundew199 · 5 months ago

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Dad!Reiner Headcanons

Tags: Post-Rumbling, fluff, Reiner x f!reader

a/n: I know this has been done a hundred times but idc

-He wouldn’t have kids until a few years after the rumbling or at least until he feel he is mentally stable enough to be there as a father and partner

- when you tell him your pregnant, he sheds a few tears and holds you the rest of the day/evening

-throughout the pregnancy he’s catering to your every whim. Going to the market for your cravings, rubbing your shoulders, drawing a bath, all of it. You’re carrying his child and he can’t imagine doing anything less

- he’s pretty laid back throughout the first two trimesters, but as soon as the third hits he flips a switch completely

- at this point he attending all your check ins and asking more questions than you at the doctors office, throwing various scenarios at the physician until he feels more at ease than when he arrived.

-he tries not to stress you out by being stressed out himself but every day is getting closer and closer to the arrival of the baby

-going into the labor, Reiner was calm and collected (surprisingly). Guiding you out of the house and letting you squeeze his hand to death on the cab ride there

- it doesn’t matter to him that he could possibly up all night, he’s so excited to meet the baby sleep never crosses his mind.

-through the delivery he was right by your side, holding your hand and encouraging you with the nurses. When the baby was finally delivered he made sure you were 100% ok before he went over to see them

- everyone knows Reiners a girl dad and when he sets his eyes on his daughter for the first time, composure cracks seeing her face. He cried softly next you when you held your daughter for the first time, crouched down by the bed and admiring her .

-when the hospital cleared everyone to go home, his real anxieties set in. She’s so small and everything is a possible ‘threat’ to her safety.

- Reiner almost refuses to cradle her in his arms when carrying her, instead laying her across one side of his chest so her head can rest on his shoulder and he can keep careful hand at the back of her head.

- he gets up with you in the middle of the night, purely because he can’t stand the thought of you doing any part of parenting alone. He knows he can’t do much other than lay there as his daughter nurses, but it beats him getting a good night sleep when you’re beyond tired. (He’s willing choosing to be sleep deprived for you)

- Reiner lovesss holding his daughter, it’s so comforting for him. Whether he’s walking around the house to give you a break or laying in bed with her snuggled onto his chest he loves it.

- between the two of you, he’s the emotional parent. For starters he never thought he’d live to see the day he’d get to have a family of his own and two he’s just so overwhelmed with love and joy for the baby that he gets to call his daughter. He’s gotten choked up when she cries sometimes or whenever she does something cute, doesn’t matter the man is struggling to pull himself together.

- even though Reiner is a gentle by nature and heart, he does not play about his daughter or you. Has told off random people for coming up to you while holding your daughter and touching her head, hands or cheeks, doesn't understand where people get their audacity from.

-still struggles with the trauma from the rumbling and his time as a warrior and gets in his own head when he thinks about his daughter getting older and if he'll be a good enough father to her. its his biggest fear.

-when your daughter can't sleep at night when she's still a baby, Reiner will sometimes walk around with her outside, talk softly to her about whatever comes to mind and pace the backyard until her eyes are droopy

-he'll never pressure you by any means but Reiner wants a big family. Not having siblings of his own, he can't imagine not giving your daughter one or two younger siblings, or three.

-when his daughter is older (toddler) is when you see just how wrapped around her finger he is. Reiner is shameless when it comes to spoiling her, its physically impossible for him to say 'no'

-it's no secret that you and his daughter are what keeps him going so Mother's Day, Your Birthday and your daughter's birthday is a whole ordeal.

-is fully aware his daughter is his mini-me and will gang up on you with her for fun and just to push your buttons.

-is his daughters biggest cheerleader, always encouraging her to do the things she loves and promising to be by her side. He loves seeing her smile and will do anything for it to happen

-raises her to be strong and independent without taking away her girly side. Tells her to always speak up for herself and not take shit from anyone

-he’ll eventually have an army of daughters and possibly one boy depending on how many kids he has, but for the most part he’s extremely outnumbered, but he loves it.

#reiner braun #attack on titan #snk #aot reiner #reiner x reader #reiner x you #reiner headcanons #girl!dad Reiner

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dinogoofymutated · 8 months ago

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Please, when u have the time, more Pietro stuff 😭😭😭 ur writing for him is excellent and I need more!! Headcanons, stories, idc I just need more Quicksilver written by u.

Enemies to lovers!Quicksilver/GN!reader - pt 2

Here's part 1

It's finally here!! I'm sorry if there are any spelling mistakes. Also, I think the ending is probably the most dialogue heavy scene I've done so far, and I'm not entirely happy with it, but i wanted to post this so bad!! I might go back and edit later though. Hope you all enjoy!! TWS: Fighting, passive aggression, full on aression kinda, logan is a worried asshole big brother, Professor X watching his tragedy not quite repeat. Pietro is kinda an ass but he's a broken ass so its okay.

You and Pietro had a weird relationship. And it seemed to just spiral into even weirder territories and murkier waters. Each and every interaction tiptoed into something a little more than just enemies, and one night you think the two of you fully crossed the line. You were sure of it, and it was just the start.

You’re finally starting to fall asleep when there’s a sudden whoosh of air and grunt of pain. It startles you, and you sit straight up in bed, leaning over to flicker on the light. When your eyes finally adjust, you see Pietro standing by the window, hunched over in clear distress.

“Pietro? What are you doing here?” You ask, But he doesn’t respond. His suit is ripped and bloody, and various deep cuts litter his skin. You swear he’s about to pass out as he stands in front of you, swaying just a little like he did on that day at the beach. Whatever fight he had just been through, it had taken a little more out of him than that fast metabolism could heal so quickly.

“Are you okay?” You ask, wide-eyed at him. Pietro grimaces in a way that looks more angry than it does pained, and yet he still says nothing. Unable to deal with the idea of admitting he needs help, you assume.

He’s sitting on your bed now, naked from the waist up as you stitch his wounds. He’s been silent the whole time, only offering a wince or grunt every now and then with particularly tender wounds. Right now you’re on your knees as you stitch up a rather deep cut on his upper side, his arms keeping his balance as he leans back on your bed.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You ask eventually. Pietro’s chest pulls on the stitches just a little as he huffs in annoyance, regretting the action a moment too late.

“If I did, I would be.” He snaps. You raise an eyebrow at him as you begin a new stitch, piercing the skin perhaps a tad less cautious than you had been before.

“Take it easy, speedster. ‘Last time I checked I was the one with the needles in my hand.” You snark. Pietro has nothing more to say to that, instead turning his head away so that he doesn’t have to look at you. It doesn’t take a genius to know he’s a bit embarrassed at this whole situation, and you feel a bit bad for him. Out of all the places he could have gone to, there had to be a reason he chose to come here. You just couldn’t tell what that reason was.

You’re gentle while you finish wrapping him in bandages, and he can’t seem to look you in the eyes even for a second. When you reach out to brush some dirt off of his face, he finally meets your eyes. He’s a little less guarded than he was before, but the wall between the two of you still remains. There's a quick gust of wind as he moves towards the open window, stopping just before he leaves.

“...Thank you.” He says after a moment, looking at you from the corner of his eye. You smile at him, a warm feeling in your chest. The difference in his attitude was noticeable, and the fact that he was acting even a little less cold with you was reassuring.

“You’re welcome.” You reply, and then he’s gone again, having closed the window behind him this time.

The difference between the two sides of Pietro you saw was so jarring. You were so used to the cocky asshole that spent all his effort in terrorizing you, not the quiet, almost angry, and guarded man that stood before you that night- and the many nights afterward.

The second time he showed up, this time woundless and simply laid on your bed to rant, you were surprised but didn’t mind it. Then it happened again, and again, and then came the board games, the nights of talking endlessly, and the midnight snacking.

And eventually, Pietro started to climb into your bed. He never spoke a word when he did, simply pulling back the covers and pulling you close, pressing his face into the back of your neck. Nights like this were vulnerable, and tender. Quiet. He came to you in need of comfort often, and you were willing to be his safe space for as long as he wanted.

The more he came to you, hurt or angry or sad, the more concerned you became. And you were upfront about it, much to his dismay.

“You know, I get that we’re on two different sides of things- but you know that the school’s doors are always open to those who need it, right?” You ask, late one night after he had crawled into bed by your side. You were facing him, hand curling on the pillow an inch away from his face, fighting the urge to brush his bangs away from his forehead. Immediately, he has a negative reaction to it. He scowls, recoiling away from you as he glares. You know it should hurt worse than it does, but all you can see is the hurt he's feeling right now.

“The last thing I need is for another person to tell me what to do.” He snaps, turning his head away from you as he sits up and runs his hand through his hair, aggravated. You sit up on the bed a little further, almost wanting to reach for him, but you don’t.

“Pietro, You know that’s not what I meant-” You say, softy.

“Does it matter what you meant?” Pietro practically cuts you off. His tone is sharp, and it hurts you for a second. You frown at him- not that he could see it anyway, and the hurt quickly turns to aggravation on your end.

"Yes, it does. I'm not bossing you around, I'm just telling you that the X-men- myself included- are here if you need any help." You huff, watching as he practically rolls his eyes at you and stands, looming over the bed as he turns to look at you.

"The telling part is the problem. Everyone tells me that I could do something, but what they mean is that I should do it." He snaps. You move over to his side of the bed before standing, almost in a challenge. The two of you are now almost uncomfortably close, to the point where you’re sure if you moved an inch your noses would be touching.

"Well, What if that's not what I’m doing but you're just reading it that way?" You say, meeting his gaze. Pietro was never one to back down from a confrontation, especially not one with you. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him quite this angry at you before, rocky past be damned.

"So you’re saying I'm overanalyzing?" He says, and you groan at the fact that nothing you said was getting through to him, pushing the palms of your hands into the outer edge of your eye sockets.

"I'm saying that I'm not your dad-"

"And what would you know about my family?!" Pietro yells, and you’re quick to look back up at him, scowling.

"Don't raise your voice at me!” You snap, pushing a finger into his chest. “I know enough to know that your dad controls every aspect of what you do, and that's not fair to you." You tell him.

"Don't pretend that you understand or care about any of that" Pietro says, grabbing ahold of your hand rather tightly. God! You did not understand why he couldn’t get it through his thick fucking skull!

"I do care, Pietro!" The words burst out of you, almost uncontrollably. You slam your other fist into his chest, tears of frustration welling in your eyes as you look at him. His eyes are wide, looking shocked and confused. You’re beginning to lose your fight, leaning against his chest, still somewhat caught in his grip despite the fact that his hold on your hand had become light, and still, it felt confining.

"I may not understand why you do what you do, but I do care about you." Your words come out quieter this time, blinking away those stupid tears that had started to well. Pietro’s eyebrows are furrowed, eyes searching your own, but you don't know what for. The two of you stand there for what feels like forever for both of you speedsters, but was surely more like a split second. You’re still pressed up against his chest, faces so close they could touch.

And then they did.

Pietro is the first to kiss you, leaning in and quickly cupping the back of your neck with his free hand, almost in a possessive manner. Once his thoughts have finally caught up with his actions, he pulls back. He looks at you, wide-eyed at his own actions before you gently pull him back in for another kiss. It only takes a moment to click before he sighs into you, melting into the kiss. His kisses are tender, sweet presses of his lips against your own. After a few long moments, you slowly pull away from him. He rests his forehead against your own, a fond look in his eyes that you were sure you mirrored.

From that night on, his nightly visits to you meant something more than they had in the past.

That didn’t mean that they went unnoticed by others, however, and one day you found yourself being called into the professor's study. Of course you were a little worried, but you were so sure that there was no way anyone could have noticed, right?

Logan is standing next to the professor's desk when you enter the room, frowning with his arms crossed. Professor Xavier on the other hand sits rather calmly, inviting you to sit down. You choose to stand instead, cocking your head at them.

“Wow. What is this, an intervention?” You joke, trying to laugh off the oddness of the situation.

“Yup.” Logan snorts. You shoot him a confused and slightly panicked look that the professor picks up on immediately.

“There’s no need to worry, my dear.” The professor says calmly. “We just had a few concerns about-”

“We know that Magneto’s brat has been sneaking into your room.” You almost flinch at Logan's accusatory tone, bristling with a sudden flash of embarrassment and then anger at him for what he calls Pietro. “I’ve been smelling his scent on you for weeks.” Logan finishes, and you’re so taken aback you don’t know what to say at first, mouth hanging open in shock.

“Easy, Logan.” The professor says, raising an eyebrow at the furry man, but Logan isn’t listening, approaching you with a scowl on his face.

“Have you ever heard the phrase, no fraternizing with the enemy, kid?” He continues, and the close contact has you bristling again, unwilling to back down.

“Logan.” The professor tries again, unsuccessfully.

“Look, the first time he came to me he was injured. I wasn’t going to turn him away.” You finally say, fists clenching as you ignore Logan before looking back at the professor instead.

“I understand that. In fact, I’m thankful that you could be so forgiving towards Pietro, despite the past the two of you share.” The professor states, but his words hardly relieve you.

“Then what is the problem?” You ask, exacerbated by this whole interaction already. Logan seems to be angry that you’re ignoring him but snorts at your question.

“-The problem is that you shouldn’t be letting him in your knickers.” You gasp at Logan's accusation, and the professor looks appalled.

“Logan!” Professor X scolds as you struggle and scrabble for words, now both embarrassed, mortified, and rather flush in the face.

“-Excuse you! We weren’t- we’ve never!” It’s a struggle to finally find your words, and even more embarrassing to be so caught off guard. What kind of asshole accuses someone of that out in the freaking open?! In front of your mentor no less?!

“Sure you haven’t. That’s why your bed doesn’t smell like him.” Logan rolls his eyes, and you refrain from punching him in the face right then and there.

“Well if your stupid nose was as good as you say it is, you would know that we haven't done anything just by the smell!”

“Just because it hasn’t happened now-”

ENOUGH! Both of you! The professor silenced the argument with a single thought. Both you and Logan feel scolded, and yet still bitter about the other. You cross your arms in a bit of a defensive manner ad the two of you turn back to face the professor.

“This was never supposed to be an argument, simply a conversation.” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. You scoff at that, sending a pointed look in Logan’s direction.

“Well maybe, Logan should learn to stay out of my business!” You say, only for the professor to hold his hand up for you to stop, simply hoping both you and Logan would quit continuing to dig this hole deeper and deeper.

“I’ve heard enough.” Professor X states. “We were simply concerned about the nature of the relationship between the two of you, seeing that you have been growing closer. I know your mind, and I trust you to stay by the X-men’s side.”

“Then what is this?” You ask, the words coming out as more of a whisper. Logan sighs, looking regretful but ever the stubborn ass. He looks at you, moving to where he can lean against the professor’s desk again.

“... Look, Kid. we just don’t want you to get hurt. Anything between you and Pietro isn’t going to end well.” Logan says. You feel a little more understanding of him now, but only a bit, with him back to acting like he normally did. He was always an older brother figure to you, but that did not give him the right to air out your business, even if the professor could find out everything that had been happening with the barest glimpse into your mind. Still, you scowl just slightly at Logan, looking away from him. He sighs again, and with a nod from the professor, leaves the room. The professor nods you over to his side, wheeling his way towards the bookshelf with one particular photo on it. One of him and Magento in their college days.

“You are an adult. I cannot stop you from making your own decisions.” The professor starts. You find yourself tracing the features of the young Erik, finding the image of Pietro in every part of his father's face. The professor looks at you, and all he can see is a face so similar to his own. “I too, understand what it is like to hold affection for someone so distantly aligned from you. It’s due to that understanding that I worry for you. I…” The professor trails off and you turn to look at him with a frown. You knew. You know. The two of you are so different from each other, but surely that didn’t mean you would be enemies forever? He wouldn’t hurt you in the way that Magneto had hurt the professor so many times before… would he? Professor Xavier reaches out to take your hand in both of his own, squeezing it reassuringly.

“Just be careful, my dear.”

“I understand, professor.”

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luvingarisu · 10 days ago

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heh... so, uh.. heard you were taking requests..

how about some.. daikichi karube hc’s.. 🌚

babe these pics made me scream ily

wrote these as gn as possible :) lowkey cringed over using the word hole but whatever </3

ALSO I WROTE THIS SO FAST BC I LOVE KARUBE SM SO I DIDN’T PROOF READ </3

:readmore:

♡ he is such a whore before you. TOO much experience i fear. but we listen and we don’t judge <3

♡ idc what anyone says this man goes SLOWWWW we all saw him kissing his manager’s girlfriend.

♡ he savours every fuckin’ moment

♡ absolute filthy mouth too

♡ when he isn’t groaning or cursing in your ear he speaks in the most insanely attractive, yet condescending way

♡ “feels good, yeah?”

♡ “you fuckin’ love it huh?”

♡ “am i makin’ you feel good baby?”

♡ yk that one position he the dudes behind, you’re both sitting up and he has your arms pinned to your back? THAT ONEEE!

♡ lover of classic back shots too, simply because he’s an ass man.

♡ goes crazy for the arch, hands on the small of your back, keeping you down as he delivers deep, rough, painfully slow thrusts into your hole, fucking you into the mattress.

♡ every time starts with a heated makeout session.

♡ slow, opened mouth kisses, hips pinning you to the bar, to the wall, to the sofa, wherever you are. hands always under your shirt, fingers indented into your waist as he tries to pull you impossibly closer, and without a doubt, always ends up sliding a thigh between your legs.

♡ despite loving back shots, bro loves a good ride, and on more than one occasion he’s had a lit cigarette between his lips, thin plumes of smoke escaping his lips while he praises you and groans

♡ will NAWT hurt u bc my man isn’t abt that life. spanking and that’s IT! but its usually light and playful and honestly just and excuse to grab a handful of ass

♡ also! would probably not be down for public quickies. he likes it slow, deep, and heated, he can’t do that in 10 minutes. will by all means fuck you if he knows the bar is empty, but if he doesn’t have at least 30 mins he’s just tugging you close, promising to fuck you when you get home.

♡ definitely has a thing for being clothed while you’re fully naked, on top of him, bouncing on his cock completely exposed while he still has his shirt and jeans on, tugged down just enough to slip his cock into you.

♡ gets such a fuckin’ ego boost when you choke on his cock too, is a bit of a fiend for holding your head down, only letting you come back up when he knows it’s becoming too much, and from then on, just guides your head, hand tangled in your hair with a light grip.

♡ head thrown back whilst one arms crossed behind his head and it’s absolutely the hottest thing you’ve ever seen

♡ i need this man in the most filthy, diabolical way ever.

#kacey talks <3 #alice in borderland x reader #alice in borderland #karube daikichi #karube x reader #alice in borderland smut

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r0tting-rat · 4 months ago

Text

DCA PROMPTOBER 2024

MerMay? Never heard of it. Idc take this even if it's October.

Day 8 - Trouble

Pairing: Mer!Sun & Mer!Moon/Human!Reader Warning: Blood and a little violence Words: 1900+ Summary: You decided to go for a dive in an unexplored area, unfortunately two pairs of watchful eyes have different plans for you.

You had made a mistake, and not a small one. You had put yourself in a lot, lot of trouble, and it was all your fault.

The sea is truly a force to be reckoned with, isn’t it? Unpredictable, unstable, strong and unforgiving. If you lived close to you you had to learn how to trust it quickly, but also you had to set boundaries, you know? Not for the sea, it doesn’t care about boundaries, but for yourself. You always had to keep an eye on the invisible line you couldn’t cross, be careful not to come any closer to it, or the beautiful and terrible water that had been keeping you floating all this time in peaceful bliss could drag you down and make you disappear as quickly as you entered its domain.

You didn’t hate the sea, how could you? You had loved it since the very first day, but you had made a terrible mistake; you had crossed the boundary. You brought your little boat, “Comet of the Sea”, a little further than usual, with the intention of exploring an underwater cave you had noticed from over the surface, but you had misjudged the distance and size of said cave. What you thought was an opening just a little wider than a human in the rocks was actually far bigger than you imagined, probably big enough for your boat to enter without any problem. Hesitantly you had peered in, trying to see anything in the darkness, and you had waited. It was impossible for the cave to be completely inhabited, it was so long the end of it disappeared into the darkness, in a forest of colorful algae. Despite the amount of seaweed inside the cave you didn’t spot any fish, small or big in size, wandering through them. Actually, you hadn’t seen any living creatures near the cave whatsoever. The implication dawned unto you quickly, but despite that it was already too late for you, and something grabbed your ankle, beginning to pull you down. With a scream you tried to fight it, seeking grip in the rocks around you, but that only resulted in you cutting both your palms. With your feet you began to kick at the beast, trying to get it off of you, but the fins you were wearing didn’t allow you to deal much damage, so instead of attempting to attack you focused on fleeing. The surface over you was getting more far by the second, so using both your arms and legs you began to swim, using all the strength your body had. That must have caught the animal off guard because its grip on your ankle weakened, and you took the chance to shake it off of you. Successful, you began to swim away, headed for the surface, when something clicked in your mind. Your ankle didn’t hurt, you felt no pain, and it couldn’t be because of the adrenaline because your hands stung like shit. What had grabbed you was a hand, a human hand.

Your head snapped back, looking back down at the place where the thing had gotten a hold of you, just to see a blue creature right before you, waiting. It was far closer than you had imagined, swimming right behind you as you moved up, like it was curious to see what you were doing, and the moment your eyes landed on it you screamed at the top of your lungs inside the mask. Backing away, you tried to put as much distance as possible between you and that thing, but it simply followed you with a smooth movement of its tail, which alone was already longer than you by a lot. Wide eyed, you stared at it, looking at its round face, at the scar-covered body, at the human torso fused with a shark tail where the hips should have been. The body was separated into two sides; one was of a deep blue color and the other was as white as milk, with small dark dots like stars littering its stomach and tail. Your eyes scanned, frantically, over the big webbed and claw-tipped hands, going back to study its face in confusion, not making sense of what you were seeing.

Could it be a person in a costume? No, the entire creature was way over the size of any human, also the face was in no way similar to one of a person. Its eyes were large, completely black with a single red dot in the middle of them, and the shape would have been almost perfectly round if it hadn’t been for the large dorsal fin that extended all the way to its lower back. The worst thing however was the mouth; a large grin full of sharp teeth, white and dangerous, which reminded you horribly of an angler fish. To add to the comparison, the monster also had an esca hanging from its forehead.

-What the fuck,- you were whispering, terrified, -What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck?!-

You had never believed in mermaids, they seemed too silly to exist and they made no absolute sense, biologically and evolutionarily speaking, yet there was no other word you could describe the thing in front of you. It was a mer, in every sense of the word, and it was far scarier and bigger than books and movies claimed them to be.

-What the fuck.-

The mer was studying you, probably equally as curious as you were of him, and the two of you stayed there, staring at one another, for a long minute. Then, before you could do anything, it lounged at your feet and pulled one of your fins away. You yelled, of course, and tried to hit him with your naked foot, but the thing grabbed it with strength you didn’t know it possessed and held it in his large palms. Your breathing became heavy, you gave up fighting and stayed still, hoping the mer wasn’t about to make a snack out of your foot, waiting for a reaction or for a means to escape. In the meantime, the monster was looking at your body, confused.

When he had first seen you, Moon had thought that you were some kind of fucked up mer with the way you were swimming around, clumsy and slow. Perhaps you were wounded, so when the blue mer had spotted you from afar, getting closer to his cave, he waited before attacking. He had looked at you as you peered into his cave, searching for the inhabitants, and when he was sure that you hadn’t come with harmful intentions he had gotten closer, meaning to ask you if you needed help. After all, with your body clad in a black scuba suit and the fins attached to your feet, he hadn’t noticed how human you looked. Now that he had you near though, you did look like a human, and a lot.

Staring back up at you, he chirped, trying to see if you could understand his tongue, but of course the sound only frightened you and made you try to pull away once more.

-Moon!- The voice of his friend called him, as Sun started to emerge from the cave, worried. -Are they dangerous?-

The blue mer heard you gasping and twisting in his grasp, probably frightened by the sight of a second mer, but he refused to let you go another time. The hold he had on your foot was bruising, so much that your eyes started to water.

-No,- replied Moon, -It’s just a human.-

How unfortunate, truly. It had been a long time since the two of them had met another mer, and Moon had felt hopeful when he had seen you. Sun, on the other hand, was quite happy at the news.

-Bring it!- he smiled, showing a row of teeth as big as those of a white shark, - We haven’t eaten one in weeks!-

As much as Moon agreed, he felt hesitant to kill you. Scrutinizing your face, he noticed you were beginning to grow more anxious, darting your eyes from one creature to the other, although he wasn’t sure anymore if it was just fear or something else as well. Sun had swam closer, covering the distance in a very short time, and you gasped when you managed to see his entire body and the way he moved, gracious and smooth, like a dancer in the water. He resembled a betta fish, with his colorful fins and frills adorning his hips, tail and head, but he was just as deadly as Moon. The teeth and claws were a constant reminder of his dangerous nature, along with a hidden weapon; stings hidden in the “mane” around his head, yellow and orange as the rest of his body, holding a venom far more deadly than the one of a scorpionfish.

-So, what do we do?- Sun asked, cheerful, -Do we hunt it down or do we finish it right here and now?-

Moon looked at you, then at his friend.

-I’m not that hungry,- he said, -Also, I don’t feel like eating this one, it looks weird. It has something black covering its skin and heavy things attached to its back, I don’t even know if they’re removable.-

-We won’t know unless we try!- Sun replied, grabbing one of your thighs and pulling you further down. One of his claws began to cut a slash into your diving gear, as if to see how thick the layer was. He chirped in happiness when he found your succulent flesh underneath and ribbons of blood floated in the water around you, making you cry out in pain and making Sun’s eyes roll in delirious glee.

-Oh, how good they smell!- the yellow mer rejoiced, -This is going to be the tastiest human I’ll have in my life.-

As the two mers continued on talking—or at least, you assumed they were communicating, considering the amount of noises they were making with their mouths—you kept fidgeting with the strap of your oxygen tanks, trying to pull them off. If you had managed to free yourself of them you would have been lighter, therefore you would have had a bigger chance of escaping, but the strap wasn’t cooperating. You couldn’t get it off, as much as you tried, it was unmovable.

Suddenly the two mers looked back at you in unison, wide-eyed and silent, and you froze. Did they finally decide to kill you? Were you about to be taken apart piece by piece? You weren’t sure, not when they were looking at you in that way.

The first of the two mers was smiling—well, he looked like he was smiling at least, and you didn't like the look of it—and the yellow one made a sound close to a throaty laugh.

-So, do you like the idea?- asked Moon to his friend, still staring at you.

-You mean trapping them in the air pocket inside our cave?- said Sun, amused, -Yes, I think it’s quite brilliant.-

Confused, you stared at them, looking for answers in their intense gazes.

-They will make a perfect surprise for Eclipse, once he gets back,- added Sun, prodding at the wound on your thigh and making you wince. Moon laughed, thinking about the face their friend would make once he would have seen you, tied and ready to be devoured.

-Yes, this pretty thing could be quite the surprise,- he agreed.

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in1-nutshell · 9 months ago

Note

HELLO HELLOOOOO THIS HAS BEEN STUCK IN MY HEAD FOREVER BUT IVE GOT 2 ASKS, OBVIOUSLY U CAN DO ONE OR THE OTHER IDC BUT COULD WE GET TO SEE MORE RUMBLE TERRAN BUDDY FROM TFE OR TFA BUMBLEBEES TWIN BUT ITS SENTINALS REACTION TO THEIR NAME?? LIKE SENTINALS CALLIN FOR EM AND THEY STICK UP FOR THEMSELVES SAYING THEIR NAME IS BUDDY OR SUM ONE OR THE OTHER I DON'T MIND!! THANKS SO MUCH :]]

We are going with Bot Buddy Rumble today!

Hope you enjoy!

Bot Buddy who has the personality of Rumble: Slice of Life

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Cybertronain (terran) reader

TFE

… They had gone into healing stasis for 3 days!

3 DAYS!

SO MANY THINGS HAD HAPPENED!

And now they have 3 more siblings.

…

Welp, family is family.

Buddy welcomes them with open servos when they get the story.

Hashtag, Nightshade and Jawbreaker were excited to find out they had another sibling.

Hashtag picking up Buddy by the waist.

“So, your our other sibling?”--Hastag

Buddy squirms a bit in her grip.

“And you’re the new sibs?”--Buddy

Nightshade and Jawbreaker wave at Buddy.

Buddy crosses their arms looking at the three.

Then they smile at them.

“Guess there’s 3 more sibs I gotta look out for then. Hope you guys don’t give me as much trouble as these four.”--Buddy

“Hey!”—Robby, Mo, Thrash, and Twitch

Nightshade raises their servo.

“Umm, Buddy quick question.”--Nightshade

Hashtag puts Buddy down.

“Sure.”--Buddy

“Why were you in healing stasis in the first place?”--Nightshade

“… I’ll tell you when you’re older.”--Buddy

“Aren’t we around the same—”--Nightshade

“WHEN YOUR OLDER!”--Buddy

To try and get more sibling bonding time they tried different games.

Board games and obstacle courses were good for a while before they started getting bored.

They needed a challenge.

“We can always play hide and seek.”--Buddy

“Buddy we can’t play that game.”--Robby

“Not if we set clear boundaries. If we do that, we can play better.”--Buddy

“I want to play!”--Hashtag

“Me too!”--Nightshade

“Me three!”--Jawbreaker

“Me four!”--Thrash

“Thrash!”--Mo

“Majority vote wins! Let’s do this!”--Buddy

Meanwhile with Bumblebee…

Bee looks around.

“…Somethings just happened and I don’t like it…”--Bumblebee

So, the games began.

The reluctant Maltos had to agree that playing the game was fun and could even be training if they tried hard enough.

And as always, Buddy is the last one to be found.

…

Robby and Mo suddenly remember why the game was banned.

It’s a farm wide search for Buddy.

Robby and Mo try to use their cybersleeves to find Buddy.

“Isn’t that cheating?”--Jawbreaker

“Not when it doesn’t work.”--Robby

“I still can’t get anything!”--Mo

“Its like they aren’t even on the farm anymore.”--Robby

“They couldn’t have gone far. Let’s spread out!”--Twitch

Hashtag was constantly being used as a pole for the others to search.

Nightshade is flying around with Twitch trying to find Buddy.

Jawbreaker is looking with Thrash and Mo in the fields.

Meanwhile with Buddy…

They wanted to get a bit creative with their hiding places and decided to hide in Dad 1 car.

Buddy was still within the boundaries of the property, so it was okay.

But of course, they chose the day he had to go into town.

So, they just stayed in the car hidden from view and just listened to tunes the entire time, even taking a nap.

Alex came back into the car singing a tune he had in his head.

Buddy slowly lifts their helm from the back seat.

“Dad—”--Buddy

Buddy winces a bit at the high shriek their Dad had made.

“Buddy?! Buddy, what are you doing here?”--Alex

“I was playing with the others and hid here.”--Buddy

Alex shakes his head and begins driving back to the house.

“Why didn’t you say anything when you noticed the car was moving? I would have stopped and gotten you back to the house.”--Alex

“I did but…”--Buddy

“But…?”--Alex

Buddy looks down a bit embarrassed.

“…I like hearing your music and you singing.”--Buddy

Alex chuckles a bit as they start pulling up to the house.

“Just next time let me know you’re here. Someone could have seen you.”--Alex

Buddy hops out of the car with Alex feeling a bit down.

“But if there’s a karaoke night, I think I know who I can count on.”--Alex

Buddy’s demeanor lifted at that.

“Like singing partners?”--Buddy

“I don’t see why not, but I will have to run the idea by with your mother.”

Buddy gives him a hug before immediately releasing him coughing a bit embarrassed.

“I’m just gonna go over there…”--Buddy

Buddy runs into the barn as Alex laughs to himself and goes into the house.

He manages to close the door when he hears the clash of metal, a loud ‘I FOUND THEM!’, and shouting about messing up someone’s back struts.

#transformers x reader #maccadam #bot buddy #tfe x reader #tfe x platonic reader

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pinkwright · 1 year ago

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𐙚.ﾟ۪ ๑ ۫ wearing ur cross on my chain for it. —

ellie williams x black female!reader

inspiration ᧓ take care of you by charlotte day wilson w/ syd.

author's note ⌅ awkward fucking ending but that's life ! thought i would drop anotha drabble before the year ends — consider this a happy new years gift <3z.

warnings ⌅ 18+. more ellie focused u could say. scissoring. needy!ellie. readers just happy to be there. lots love bc i love love sawry n ellie's a canon lovergirl idc. dramatic ass metaphors bc it's me. some fluff. pussydrunk!ellie. reader has locs this time round. ellie likes to talk (canon). ellie calls reader 'mama' like twice (well!). cursing. slight dry humping n fingering. mentions of cunnilingus.

.𖥔 1873

maybe it's one of those days, where she's feeling emotionally overwhelmed, her love growing in her throat like the infection lingering in her veins, bordering on painful in the way it digs its branches into her lungs, stuttering her breath as though it wished to suffocate her. and she's just watching, staring you down as you flit through menial activities; humming as you fold the laundry, or sweetly sigh at the sweet smell that wafts from the tray of muffins you lift from the oven, and despite the normalcy of the act, her eyes wash with tenderness, need so vicious it would knock you off kilter, disrupt your center of gravity so the only thing that kept you grounded were the stars in her eyes.

when she's finally had enough of torturing herself, of her heart clenching tightly, borderline to giving out, she stands from the comfort of the knitted rug, controller discarded beside the humming console, not even having to pause because the death of her character had been neglected for the past thirty minutes, thirty minutes that felt like nothing when her gaze drunk you in. her sock-clad feet muffle her approach, ellie slinking quietly behind your idle frame, so quiet that the slide of her strong arms wrapping around your waist trigger your fright, a soft gasp as you freeze before your body is relaxing in recognition, a gentle lull into solace. ellie's so consumed by the ache in her chest, blinded by the way it steals her breath away, to gift to you, that she can't even bring herself to chuckle at your skittish nature, palms sliding up your top to press against the skin of your ribs and you yelp at her cold hands, the press of her fingertips burning into your skin.

ellie sighs, caught in a pink-tinted haze when your scent wafts around her like a cloud, misting her senses as she buries her head in the dip of your neck, breathing in your scent as she allows herself to drown in the aroma of your exaltation. her thumbs mindlessly caress the dips of your ribcage, the delicate skin silken against her calloused fingers, and your eyebrows are furrowing in concern at her lack of response, thoughts ridden by the idea that it might be one of her harder days, one where she just gets too in her head, too swallowed up by the grief that it physically consumes her, almost vulturine in its nature, but, oh, you couldn't be any more wrong. your tender cooing is cut off by ellie's hand sliding into the waistband of your little cotton shorts, not hesitating as her lithe fingers dip into your panties, humming huskily when you jolt, lips parting in shock. she's meticulous, reflexive, with how her other arm tightens around your waist to keep you still, pausing, before skimming her parted lips against the skin of your neck, her heavy pants brushing against the heated skin as your hand shoots out to wrap around her wrist.

and ellie's bringing her fingers to your clit, just barely circling the sensitive nub forcing herself to slow down, to savour you, and the reigns of her self-control slipping from her grasp cue her tells, breathing heavy in your ears as she tugs you against her, a raspy groan punched from her chest, tells of her hunger, her devotion. when her fingertips brush your growing wetness, your breath catches, eyes fluttering as you tighten your hand around her tattooed wrist – if ellie was conscious, sober from the drug that was desperation; she would tease you, drop her voice low, into that taunting lilt that tears you down and simultaneously builds you up, murmuring into your skin, "what, baby? you need something?"

but she can't, too ridden with the urge to have you, feeling the ache in her chest settle a little with the noise that escapes you, bathing in its sincerity like it was a balm slaved across the decaying skin of festering wounds, soothing the ache that blisters across her heart. the sinking of her teeth harshly into your neck when you buck towards the faintest of grazes, touch so slight it fueled the building heat in you, whining when the auburnette simply holds you tightly against her, hips rocking to grind against your ass like some depraved degenerate; ellie's cunt throbs at the thought, soaking her boxers. her voice is low, raspy, rough from disuse when she finally murmurs, calloused finger dipping into your clenching canal as she palms your swollen clit, "let me feel this pretty fucking pussy, mama."

and then you're in the bed, splayed on the sheets you share, at her mercy, and ellie's not even bothering to remove your top, shoving the hem up to your pretty neck, gaze intent on watching your tits spill out of it before harshly lifting your hips to roughly tug your shorts down the silky skin of your legs, squeezing at the soft flesh of your belly, her eyes fluttering in satisfaction. and she drools at the site of your pretty soaking pussy, the strings of wetness breaking from your panties as she tugs them down your legs and as much as she wants to dig her face in the welcoming heat; slide her tongue into your needy hole before wrapping her lips around your clit, the liquid caramel slugging in her throat and the pounding in her chest are her only source of thought, the drive for how she takes you, so she's swiftly pulling her shorts and boxers down, ripping off her tank, looking like a starved animal as she crawls towards your quivering form.

her large cold hand is wrapping under the bend of your knee folding the limb to her will, spreading you out as though you were a bud forced to bloom by her attentive rays, her light – before climbing between your legs, hovering her leaking cunt just above yours, pausing to forcefully exhale a shaky breath to reign in her slipping self-control before she lowers herself on to you. her mind foggy and her chest heaving as she lets out a long satisfied groan, her hips bucking at the warmth of your soft, soaking wet pussy against hers. and she's bending your knee to spread your lips apart, rolling her hips to fuck down on you, her swollen thrumming clit bumping against yours with every insatiable buck of her hips and ellie's hunger flames in gratification. her eyebrows furrow in concentration, rusty hairs scrunching as if the pleasure angered her, her other hand wrapping around your hip when you whimper and try to grind up against her, press closer, deeper – holding you down, feeling too close to insanity to have you grinding back against her so thoughtlessly.

the room is thick with tension, riddled with the slews of desire and devotion, both in filth and adoration, and ellie's panting heavily, her lips parted as she focuses on the feeling, breathless as she keeps her moss-darkening gaze on where you two meet, grunting a pathetic moan when she sees how much your kissing cunts glisten, a shiny mess of translucent sticky essence that makes her throat tighten, "mmmh... god, f-fuck, baby, fucking perfect pussy for me, jus- just lay there and fucking t-take it for me, yeah?" tongue unhinged as she continues with raspy chuckles of "making a mess of me, angel, can't help it... pretty cunt's so soft, and wet, and mine to use, yeah? fucking gonna make me come for you, baby."

and ellie's dizzy, can't hear passed the blood in her ears or the squelching presses of her pussy against yours and the heat is thrumming under her skin, her eyes fluttering before she forces them to look down at you. the twinge of guilt at her possibly neglecting you thwacked by the sheer pleasure on your face, the slurred begging and pleading slipping passed your swollen lips digging into the muscle in her chest as if every word were a venom-tipped thorn finding home in the beating muscle. the sight has her pussy clenching, her warm juices leaking onto your messy bud, her hold on your waist subconsciously letting up as though her body knew the reprieve was the push you needed, a coo to the pitiful way you begin to fuck against her. symphonised whines and murmured odes a sensual musicality of your bodies, metaphysical atoms destined to bond; ellie rolls her hips to drag across your clit just right, "come on, baby, fucking give it to me." and you're exploding, a shriek ripping out of your chest as your body freezes then thrashes in waves.

the leak of juices against ellie makes her pussy flutter, tightly clenching your leg in her hand, branding the skin like it was all she was meant to do, continuing to desperately roll her hips against you as she follows your crest – her chest seizing as her eyes roll back into her head, blinded by the pleasure as her cunt clenches and spasms almost violently, following the rhythm set by her racing heart, a needy low moan passing her lips when she comes down. but god, that fucking ache comes back full force when she sees the fucked out look on your pretty face; lips bee sting swollen, dark eyes lidded, and god, she doesn't mean to she doesn't even think but her hips are starting up again. a low whimper escaping her mouth in sensitivity, eyebrows scrunching when she hears you whine, your pussy trying to tug away from hers and she coos at your gentle sob, "i know, baby, i know just... just let me use you please, too fucking perfect for me" the pleasure aching so fucking good, she's anguished for it. her blunt nails dig into your hip to pull you back against her, her mouth parting on a fucking whine as she uses you, her movements aggressive in their desperation, and fuck she's gonna pass out, fucking against you so hard and deep, but slow, like she wants to fuck her cum into you and make sure it sticks. "god, fuckin', just like that... i'm gonna come again for you, baby, fuck my shit so deep into you, mama, into this stupid little fucking cunt."

and she makes a sight; her head thrown back, lithe, toned body slick with sweat as her muscles tense and tighten with her harsh movement, pretty perky tits bouncing but what really gets you there is the auburn happy trail slinking towards her pretty cunt, the hairs glistening with slick as her abs tighten n shift, and oh my god, you were coming, stars bursting behind your lids as you fall limply against the bedsheets, pretty locs spreading across the pillow like a halo, angelic in the way you absolutely lose yourself on her pussy and that makes ellie spiral. the girl throws her head back when her orgasm sneaks up on her, shocking a needy whimper from her lips that you have never heard, ellie's eyes widening in shock as her hips buck in a way she can't control, fucking against you like she need the friction to breathe – and in a way, she did. "fuckkk, i'm coming, baby, god."

౨ৎ.tags... @abenomeiiii @naomis-daydream @littlegingerperson @lppriceisright

#pinkwrighting ⊹ ۪ ᖭི༏ᖫྀ.#ellie williams x fem!reader #ellie williams x black!reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x black reader

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kkl1nch0r · 7 months ago

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title: chase of lies (blade x fbi gender neutral reader PART 1)

notes: im back (idc i just wanted to write one day after over maybe a year of abandoning this shitty account) and I was like WAIT WHAT IF BLADE FBI AND YOU so I did my best. I'm rusty because of school on my ass. this is multiple parts and this is part 1 of blade and you getting down freaky. (NOT THAT FREAKY) NOT FREAKY NOT FREAKY MY BAD

---

“Fu Xuan, just—”

“Are you trying to work yourself to death, Y/n?!” the girl cries, throwing up a pile of papers in the air for dramatic effect as you sigh, shaking your head in denial.

The Xianzhou Investigation Unit— Division Six, Violent Crimes and Major Offenders, the office barely filled with its agents— was rarely this rowdy in the morning.

You reach out a hand to place a consoling hand on Fu Xuan’s shoulder, to tell her it would be all right, but you knock your mug of coffee along the way.

The drink spreads steadfast over the pile of unsigned papers, and Fu Xuan sighs, taking the mug, fetching tissues from her pocket almost magically. “Y/n, you shouldn’t just give your life away like that. We have enough to do as it is, and you’re still injured—”

“Which gives me more of a reason to help you guys out!” you interjected, grabbing the soaked papers, and turn around to face the broken-down printer. It was out of ink, and you sighed. “I can’t just let you guys work to death without me. That’s just unfair.”

Fu Xuan crosses her arms, facing you with her trademark steely glare. You wince.

You twisted your stiff ankle uncomfortably, still trying to get used to walking again. From the last mission, the chase for the Stellaron Hunters had caused you to unfortunately fall and twist your ankle, aside from the several broken ribs and fractured wrist that had taken months to heal.

Returning to the office was a great slap of reality to the face. No more herbal tea, no more reading by the fire, no more relaxation. Not that you were complaining.

And here you were, looking up at Miss Number One Workaholic of Division Six. The girl was absolutely against you taking up another case that had just “intrigued” you.

“I need to help around a little,” you tried, and Fu Xuan raised a skeptic eyebrow.

“Yeah, right,” she countered, and you braced yourself for the running tangent she was about to go on. “You just want to take this case up because you know it involves the Stellaron Hunters, and nothing stops you from persecuting them. From what I know, not one– not one! Of your cases contain something unrelated from that faction. You’re going to get yourself hurt like last time… not to mention you could actually die.”

She hit every nail right on the head.

“Gosh, Fu Xuan,” you gushed, batting your eyelashes, cupping the side of your face with a hand. “You just know me so well.”

“Thank the Aeons I do,” Fu Xuan snapped. She was having none of it this morning, it seemed. “Because who else would know when you’ll throw yourself into a pit of lava or something?”

“Fu Xuan!”

“You know I’m right!” she called, walking from your desk. “I’m talking to Jing Yuan about this. He’ll probably slap some sense into you.”

“Come on!”

The agent had disappeared behind the heaping piles of paper on the desks. You groaned, slumping back into your seat as the chair creaked— at least Division Six had chairs on the more comfortable side. If it weren’t for the cushioning your back might have just torn in half.

“Thank the Aeons for those,” you mumbled to yourself, looking at the clock ahead hopelessly. You looked back at the case, nonchalantly tossed onto your desk. File X. The file name stared right back at you, like a tantalizing treat in front of a hungry child.

Focus, Y/n.

You scowled, picking up the inkless pen, scribbling over the notepad before groaning again, hauling the pen across the room.

“Stupid pen.”

—-

When lunch rolls around, you’re ready to grab the pile of papers and fling them at the Investigation director.

But instead of confronting Jing Yuan in his office, you head downstairs and out of the office. Sunlight blasts in your eyes, but you make a break for the cafe across the street, opening the door with a pleasant chime.

“Good morning,” says the staff at the counter, and you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose in exasperation. Okay, you take that previous note back– the cushioning does next to nothing about your back. It’s been hours since you’ve got up and stretched.

“Good afternoon,” you reply, smiling, and place your order.

The staff fumbles the tablet— and your entire order. He nervously giggles, sporting his neck awkwardly.

You’re not amused. You arch an eyebrow.

“Sorry, I’m not really familiar with all these flavors,” he says, and you bristle at his voice. He looks familiar.

“Your green eyes,” you say, and the staff jumps. “Have we met before?”

Come to think of it, you have. Striking green eyes and indigo hair. Stocky build.

Sampo swallows nervously, holding up two hands in surrender. “Okay, uh. We’re getting ahead of ourselves here. What’s the difference between French vanilla and Vanilla?”

Your eyes narrow.

“You would’ve fooled me better with a fake mustache and glasses,” you reply, completely ignoring his previous question. “What are you doing here working at a cafe right across the Xianzhou Investigation unit, Sampo?”

“...That’s a great question.”

“Can’t you catch a break?” Fu Xuan sighs back in the office. “You’re out for a break in the cafe and suddenly a wanted man turns up on your radar.”

“You can’t blame me, Fu Xuan,” you reply. “Anyways, Gepard’s going to be furious. A wanted man he’s spent eternity tracking down just strolls into the cafe right across the street. What a day.”

You pause as Fu Xuan organizes her papers on her desk. “Okay… you know what would be a day? If you talk with Jing Yuan about File–”

“No more Stellaron Hunters,” Fu Xuan snaps, and looks up at you from her desk. “No more File X. You’re supposed to work here until further notice.”

“Fu Xuan,” you plead, and the girl closes her eyes in frustration. The papers she’s dealing with sit abandoned at her desk, and she sighs. You sigh. It’s about to turn into a sighing competition when she raises her hand.

“Can we just— talk about how dangerous it is?”

You sense hope. She’s going to talk to Jing Yuan. You’re sure of it. It’s just so close! Fu Xuan just needs a push.

Fu Xuan’s lips turn down, her eyebrows knit together in concern. She looks disappointed, worried, and sad at the same time. “Do you know how you’re disregarding your life in search of a case impossible to solve right now?”

“That’s my job, Fu Xuan.” and it's true. Nobody devotes their life to the Xianzhou Investigation unit without knowing what they’re getting into.

“There’s a line between going into a mission and having an idea of what’s going to happen. That’s called being prepared. But you’re being reckless, Y/n. You’re rushing into something head-on without thinking what it could do to you.” Fu Xuan is throwing objection after objection after you, but you shake your head in reply.

“It’s what I’m choosing to do. This is my life, Fu Xuan. Not yours.”

The girl throws her hands up in exasperation. “Does it pain you to just think about the consequences for once?!” you bite your lip at her outburst. Fu Xuan looks like she’s about to cry out of frustration, her eyes rimmed with red. “I just don’t want the only other investigator here to just d– disappear along with the others.”

I just don’t want the only other investigation here to just die, is what she’s saying. You understand. You understand her so well it hurts.

The girl puts her head in her hands, looking utterly distraught. “There’s only so much I can do, Y/n. You know– the last time when I saw you come back I thought–” Fu Xuan’s breath hitches. “You were on the verge of death. I don’t want to see you like that ever again.”

“You can’t protect me like that forever,” you reply softly, and Fu Xuan sighs. She knows that well too. “I can take care of myself. I know it sounds stupid saying it like this right now when I have no idea what’s going to happen, but…”

You trail off, and Fu Xuan looks up at you, looking defeated.

Finally, the girl nods grimly, standing up from her chair and heading towards the director’s office. “I’ll talk to him.”

—

What seems like hours later File X is approved, and you’re getting ready to go on an undercover mission to stalk the Stellaron Hunters and capture one of them, learn their motives, and the usual yada yada you can’t help but ignore.

The whole team– Jing Yuan, Fu Xuan, Yanqing (an Investigation unit under training), and Sushang had gathered to see you off.

Jing Yuan looked just as grim as Fu Xuan. His eyebrows were knit together in worry but he managed a warm smile nonetheless, hands behind his back in thought. “Best of luck, Y/n.”

Fu Xuan, with her arms crossed, looked upset, but as you managed a sad smile towards the girl, she huffed, nodding. Both Jing Yuan and Fu Xuan had tensed shoulders, but there was no convincing you otherwise. “Be careful. And make sure you look out for yourself; you never seem to register that.”

You laughed. “Will do, Fu Xuan.”

Yanqing looked enthusiastic, tugging on Jing Yuan’s sleeve. He looked up at you with bright eyes. “I wanna be just like you, Y/n!” he said with admiration. “Going on an undercover mission!”

Fu Xuan rolled her eyes, but was almost toppled over when Sushang let out a cry, rushing forward from the group— she was still in training as well— and embraced you, sniffling.

“You’ll be back, right?” she asked tearfully, looking up at you with tear-stained cheeks. “It gets so lonely here… and Yanqing’s not really good company anyway.”

Yanqing bristled at her words. “Hey!”

You smiled, patting the girl’s back reassuringly. “Make sure to work hard and behave,” you said. It looked like a meeting before your funeral, but it was sweet nonetheless.

“Be super careful!” Sushang called the team following you to the lobby and out of the building. It was dark out, but you nodded in return, waving like it was your final farewell.

What if it was?

You pushed that thought down. Sushang elbowed Yanqing to do the same, and he grumbled, raising a hand to wave. “Be careful!” he repeated.

“I will, I promise!” you called back, stepping out.

“You better, Y/n! I still need to beat you up to death after this!” Fu Xuan yelled across the street.

You sighed. There was no stopping her, was there?

#honkai star rail #blade honkai star rail #hsr blade #blade x reader #blade x you #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x reader #gender neutral reader #xianzhou luofu #xianzhou luofu hsr #hsr fanfic #hsr x reader #hsr x you #jiayun's ugly writing

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vitzi9 · 2 years ago

Text

Patience is the key to success (2)

Masterlist if you want to read my others things. Part 1 here.

CW/TW: yandere-manipulative-obsessive-stalker-ethan, fem reader, smut, no p in v, depressed reader(but really), suicidal thoughts

i'm trying to post this quick because I crave attention, whatever its insults, compliments, likes or repost, idc. I want ppl to know i'm existing. i have a big oral test tomorrow and im really bad at speaking before someone (hence why im writing instead) so i just need to know im not totally useless in the society and that im, at the very least, making people enjoy my things. sorry for the rant, i have a big headhache, probably gonna die ✌️😚

the smut is really bad btw but like really but im bad at writing them but i need to to improve (26/06/2023) (5226 words)

"Let's just finish watching the movie now." you say and Ethan doesn't make you repeat as he goes straight to the couch.

You felt much better after that little talk. Ethan did not say much but in his words, there was a lot more. He was planning to be with you a long time. He does not want to ruin things. It made you so happy. Every fiber in you was warm thinking of it. You were at peace.

Ethan was calm after that, albeit moving uncomfortably sometimes. (maybe because of his boner?) He was just as cuddly as when you arrived. His head laid flat on your chest, rising up and down with each one of your breath. Your fingers brush his curl slowly as you hear his breathing slacken. You were giddy thinking about him being at peace with you, too.

His arms were closed tightly around your body, never letting you go. The movie was really advanced by now, the end was coming soon. It probably was something towards 11AM. Usually, you would have gone knock at your friend's house but there was no need now as you already saw her earlier.

When the movie fatefully ended, the credits start to roll but none of you moved an inch. Ethan rubs his cheeks against your chest before sighing happily. His eyes were closed. Was he asleep ? No, certainly not. He loves horror movie. He wouldn't fall asleep when one is ongoing.

He was cute here. You were delighted to think he trusted you enough to let his guards down and sleep with you. You were his safeplace. And he was yours. Your fingers trail down on his back where you draw small patterns dreamily. You write things, that cross your mind. You simply scratch him. His sudden speaking startle you. Your hand stopping evey movements.

"Are you sleeping far from here, today ? Every movements of his jaw hitting slightly on your chest. 'today' because he knew about your frequent change of home.

Relaxing, you continue to caress his back lovingly.

-No, not really. But I don't sleep there anymore.

The hotel too was starting to worry you. Like the building was shrieking on you. You don't know what was scarier, to be alone or to never be. And now that you found such a warm place, you don't want to leave. Ever.

-Why ?

-Scare me, s'all.

-You can sleep here tonight, if you want.

-Why ? Your decision was already made; you'd sleep here. You knew it the second he offered you to stay the night. But you wanted to see his arguments to convince you.

"Let me be with you." his sentence made a shiver run down your back.

Did that stalker fucked you up so hard you had chill even thinking about them? It was just a damn sentence. Everyone can say it. For god's sake, it's Ethan saying it of all people. Even if he awoke this uneasy feeling back, you couldn't blame him. He didn't know about the sign the criminal had shown you. You didn't tell him that much detail, only saying they had indeed brought creepy signs but omitting what was written on it. And Ethan said it so prettily, too. Yes, of course you'd be with him.

He told you you never slept here before and that you'd be safe anyway since he's here and don't plan on leaving you. So you accepted. It was really early in the day but the both of you were getting sleepy because of the calm and comfort of the situation. He offered you to go to his room which you accepted. After guiding you to there, he tells you he has to go grab something and that he'd be back really quick.

And he did, in fact, came back really quick.

By then, you were already sprawled out on his bed. You had time to see the mess he had scattered everywhere. The carboard, the books, the drawings, some letters, too. And you even found out about his second phone. The lockscreen was a generic one, the one you have by default, as if he just got it recently. But the phone wasn't new, it seems in contrary really old as it was broken at some area.

Ethan arrives in the room with a small plastic blue square packaging, you don't have time to see what it was that he throws it under the bed. You don't pay it too much attention. Playing mindlessly with his other phone in hand, you take off and put back the phone case of it to entertain yourself.

"You got two phones ? you ask even though you kind of knew the answer already.

-Oh, yes. One is for games only, the other is the one I'm really using. Did you went on it ?

-No, don't worry, I won't frisk into your secret criminal life."

He smiles before taking the phone out of your hand. He places it in the drawer of his nightstand. Ethan falls on top of you, taking your breath away for a moment. You laugh and hit his back for him to get away from you and he just laugh heartly before letting himself fall beside you.

He lays down, setting his head on his arm, looking up at you with stars in eyes. Sometimes, he's so pretty it hurt physically to look at him. Starting to get embarrassed by his insistent look, you find something to say.

-Why do you have so much pieces of cardboard anyway ?

-I make placards out of them.

With a fond smile, Ethan stares straight at your eyes. As if waiting for you to say something. You would have ask questions about his 'placards ' if not for the sudden interest he was displaying in you, which, instead, made you change subject without really noticing it. A nervous laugh escaping you.

-Why are you looking at me like that ? Is there an undertone ? Am I supposed to understand something ?"

He shakes his head negatively, displaying a small mischievous smile. He could be such a goblin at times ! Wanting to make him swallow his pride, you lean towards him and kiss his lips. Ethan smiles and moves his lips with yours.

Your arm set down on his waist and soon the kiss get heated. Ethan's body is burning, his breath is too. You don't let each other breath, as soon as you separate from each other, you plunge back in. Physically needing the contact.

You rise on your knee, arching your back to kiss him still laying flat on the bed. Soon, he joins you by rising as well. Both of you on your knees, face to face, eating each other's face. Ethan's hand are mahandling you to sit on his thights. Then, with his surprising strenght, he starts sliding you on them. Your heating pussy rubbing directly on the fabric of his pant. Your hand instinctivly goes to rub the growing tent in his trousers. The area was hot, when you slide your fingers on it, it would budge.

Ethan whimpers, thrusting his hips against yours. You straddle him completly, framing his his body with your legs. You rub his tent against your clit for some frictions. It was aching and growing more desperate by seconds.

"I... I wanna have sex with you." Ethan says softly.

You kiss his cheek, going for his neck. You answer with a meek 'me too' before sucking the skin of his neck. Ethan backs his head, already out of breath. He gives you full access to his body, still rutting desperatly his hips into yours.

But you were growing impatient. You lift your body from him, making him whine at the contact loss, before sliding your fingers behind the elastic of his pants. You slip it down to his knees before you start salivating at the sight of his hard cock already drooling for you.

He didn't have any underwear. That's why you could feel him so close to your core.

Your hand touch his thight, caressing gently his body. Making sure to avoid the area he need you the most. Ethan try to touch himself, tired of your teasing, but you slap his hand away. He whines and looks up at you with teary eyes. Silently begging you to do something. It was impossible for you to resist him.

Your hand grabs his cock in one motion, you could feel it pulse and its warmth propagate in your hand. It was already so so wet because of all his precum, your hand was sliding so easily you could have thought he came multiple times already. Gently, you start to move your hand on all its lenght slowly. The boy props himself on his elbows and look at the scene before him. Ethan sighs happily, eyes closing and head backing. He's in heaven, he thinks. But not entirely, as he looks at you still clothed.

"Want to... Want to finger you..." he pleas.

In front of a boy so desperate, and being incredibly horny, you slide your pant down, making sure your underwear went with it. Ethan lose every one of his braincells when he sees your bare pussy glistening with your love juice. He wanted to lick it bad. That's the only one fanstam he ever had that help him getting off so hard he can't move for a whole minute. He wants to drown himself in your juice. But you have others projects.

You guide his pointer finger to your lips. Ethan starts caressing it and smear your juice everywhere. His lift up another finger and start passing both of them on your lips.

"Here, you have to touch here." you say, pointing to your clit.

You move briefly to bring your genitals closer. You could feel each other's warmth emanating from your core. Seeing him try to touch you was so hot. He was listening to everything you said.

Soon getting the hang of it, he starts circling your clit, applying different pressure on it to see which one were you reacting the most to. Slowly, you quicken your pace on his hard cock. As if to reward him for being such a good boy. He was in a trance, eyes closing and opening. And when they opened, they were staring with a utmost care at your moving breast throught your shirt. Your nipples were hard and were poking through the fabric.

His eyes were glued to it. Understanding his want, you lift your shirt above your collarbone with your free hand. Ethan can't seem to take off his eyes of you. They're probably the first pair of breasts he sees in real life after all.

"Fuck... You're so pretty, love." you speed up on his shaft at his praise. "Fuck, fuck...

-You can touch baby.

-I can?"

He stops all movements to your pussy, your frown but let him discover his needs. It was his first time, you needed to let him have a little fun. His free hand touch one of your breast, massaging it then weighten it in the palm of his hand. He smiles like an idiot, an idiot so cute you let him do what he wants with you. His other, wet, hand pinch lightly your sensitive bud.

Your free hand slap his arm to make him understand he did it too hard. He sends you an apologatic smile.

"They're like stress ball."

Amused by the weird comparison, your chuckle. Still impatient to come, you guide your hand higher on his cock to caress his tip and rub it. His face contorts in pleasure, browns frows and mouth ajar. His forehead fall on your shoulder while his fingers go back down near your entrance. His hips were thrusting into nothing but your hand. Obscene wet noises were resulted. You were hot, terrribly hot but so was he.

Ethan's small puff of breath sends chill in your body. His whimpers couldn't be replaced with anyone else. Your hand was all wet and sticky, as was his. Ethan decides to enter once again two of his digits in you. Your head falls back and you sigh happily at finally scratching that itch in you.

"Curl your fingers, E." you whisper.

He hums and do as told. Curling his fingers in you, he starts to thrust them in and out at a slow pace, adopting the same sensuality you used to jerk him off. You accelerate, your hand no longer lingering on the entire shaft. Sometimes, you'd stop completly to hear him whine. Your thumb caressing his cock's veins.

"Baby please..." he pleas.

Ethan starts kissing sloppily your shoulder, your neck. You, on the other hand, take his hand to guide the thrust of his fingers, angling them correctly for them to touch that spongy spot inside. His fingers were long and thin, that was a part of him you absolutly loved. You always had a thing for pretty hands and his were beautiful.

"What do you want, love? you ask tenderly.

-Tell me you love me..."

You nudge his hair with your nose and he looks up. Staring at his eyes, you see them wet with tears. You kiss him instantly. Playing with his tongue with yours, your hand moving faster and faster. You stop the kiss to tell him you love him and he bites his lips, eyes closing.

His breath is jerky, uneven. You press his palm against your clit, rubbing it while you push his fingers inside you again. You feel a knot tighten. You won't last long.

"Tell me you love me.

-I love you E, you're doing so good.

-Again..."

You said it as many times as he needed to feel better. His hips stuttters, his cock quivers. His words are slurred to each other, resulting in incomprehensible blabbering. You don't lose the rythm, keeping the same pace until he'd eventually come.

-Love you so..." he whines.

His body tense, his breath stops. You can only hear the wet sounds your hand is producing. He doesn't utter a sound until spurts of cum smear on your hand and belly. Feeling at ease, he moans a last time from relief and breath again.

You're not far behind. Ethan being pratically knocked out, you grind on his hand. You close your thighs around it, ensuring it stay inside. Your legs are shaking, wave of hot and cold invade you. You plunge his fingers inside but, to your surprise, Ethan regains control and start pounding into you to get you to your end.

He kisses your neck while you finally come on his fingers, sweaty and disvesheled. You swear one last time when he withdraws his fingers. You stay here for a while, just hugging , breathing and basking in each other's presence.

After some minutes, you decide to go shower together. You end up finally getting a good night of sleep, cuddled in his strong arms.

The next day, Ethan and you had a stupid satisfied smile on your face. Both happy to be here. You kissed and confessed your love to each other all morning until eventually he had to leave for work. Sadly, you had things to do, too. Ethan offered you to stay and sleep here for a few nights because he wanted to stay close to you.

You liked this idea. Of course you liked it, you love Ethan. And to convince you further, he told you his roomate wouldn't mind. So naturally you accepted. You were embarassed at the idea of bothering his roomate but you decided you would just sleep here, and the day, you'd let the apartment free. It was his too, after all. Not only Ethan's. There is no way you'd let someone feel excluded in their own house.

Grabbing your phone, you click on your friend's number. You call her, the ringing echoes three times and no one answer. Somehow begrudgingly, you resume yourself at simply sending a text. Just for you to instantly forgetting your sorrow as she answers. The discussion was quite simple, she was telling you she was at her grandma right now. She was bored and wanted to know how you were doing.

'I'm going back to my dear haunted apartment, probably gonna die. Wish me luck.' you texted. She put a little more time answering this one. It's possible it triggered something in her. After everything she endured. 'nobody will hurt you as long as i'm alive' she said. She simply changed subjects after that. Asking you about the cute guy you told her about in the letters. And so you explained everything. Every time you tried to offer to call her, she'd decline. You were still sad she didn't want to talk to you but you were telling yourself you needed to be patient.

On a happier note, you decided to leave the place to go to your own apartment.

To one point, you should have known better than be too happy about your improving situation. Of course, it was well too soon for you to consider everything better. But you were probably stupid because the fall hit you much harder than you could've prepared yourself for. Oh, the pain you felt when reality had finally caught you. You thought you were going to die when you came back home to simply grab some clothes. (Ethan told you to do so.)

Your door was ajar. But it wasn't your doing. No, of course it wasn't you. Your apartement terrified you, why would you come here more ofthen than needed ? You felt your body freeze but you quickly overcame the feeling. That's it. You needed it to end. This fucking stalker had ruined you. You and your life. You sent a text to Ethan, telling him that if you do not call him after twenty minutes, he needed to call the cops. He didn't answer. He was at work. It was well past eleven by now.

Your heart was beating so hard you thought it was going to collapse on the ground, and you with it. Slowly, aware of every sound around you, you push the door. Your livingroom was as messy as you had left it. At one difference, the wall. Every frame you had put up on the walls were thrown away. Most of them on the ground and broken, with shattered glasses everywhere.

Why would the creep empty the walls ? To write on it. Of course they would write on it. You laugh bitterly for yourself. You couldn't see their stupids fucking signs anymore, so they had to improve. To force you to read their creepy obsessive text. You hear the crushing of a broken piece of glass, as if someone had stepped on it. But it wasn't you.

You're on alert. Every one of your senses on crisis. Was your mind playing tricks on you ? It was possible in this hellish house who did nothing but give you nightmares recently. You don't realize how you stopped breathing. Only calming when three long minutes had gone without another sound to be heard.

Nothing is here. You're alone, you think. Everything is good. You'll just grab your stuff and leave. Regaining your breath, you bring your attention back on the wall. Words were written on it in deep crimson red. Is that blood ? No, it can't be. Probably paint to give a creepy look that'll catch your attention. You approach the wall to better understand the message.

'She's not here anymore'

The need to throw up almost won. A dark feeling in your guts was telling you 'she' was your friend. But you didn't know. She responded to you, after all. You talked to her. So she had to be okay. She had to. You put your hand on your belly to soothe that want to vomit. You take big breath before finally leaving the livingroom. You quickly make your way to your room where you meet your bare bed. Where are your sheets ? What the hell ? But you don't want to stay longer so you throw clothes in your bag in a hurry.

The front door slam shut. And you know it's the end.

You already feel the tears drowning your sight. Trying to stay silent, you hide in your closet almost empty with how many times you came here to grab clothes. Your hand clasp against your mouth to avoid doing any noise.

Slow footsteps can be heard in the empty apartment. With your shaky hands, you fail to unlock your phone. Your vision is blurry, you can't touch the correct keys. The worst is that you can't see where the creep is. If they stay silent, they can enter the room you're in without you even noticing. And this idea is horrifying. But on another side, you'd preferred them to kill you by surprise so you don't have to affront them.

Your cries intensify, in your despair, you drop your phone straight on the ground. The footsteps stops abrutly. Three distincts knocks are echoing on the corridor's wall. They are coming toward you. You're fucked. They're coming ! What do you do ? What did you do ? Why is this happening ?

Kneeling like you could in the closed space, you reach your hand to grab your phone. As soon as your finger grazes it, the phone vibrate and your ringtone start playing for the whole building to hear. No, no, no, no, no ! Ethan. Ethan is calling you. You pick up despite everything but as soon as you do so, the call is cut short. Fuck E, why would you do that !

The criminal's footsteps are louder, quicker, heavier. They're running. They're running here ! You hold the closet door shut with your both hands, praying for your life. You only have knives in your kitchen, but it's too late now. If you go out, they'll see you. You realized at that moment that whatever you were doing, you couldn't win. That you never even stood a chance against them.

Everything was illusion.

Nothing was improving, you knew it, in fact. You were lying to yourself, searching comfort in a man that don't even understand the dept of the problem. Of your problem. And your friend ? You don't want to talk about her. You don't want to open your eyes just yet. You just want to live in your nice little lies you made up for yourself. You're nice with them, in fact, you like them. Nobody wanted to help you anyway. They could have saved you, you and her, but nobody listened.

Now, it's too late.

The closet start to shake. Widening your eyes, you realize that the creep had start to punch it with their bare fist. You don't give a fuck about being heard anymore, you're bailing your eyes out. Begging for them to let you go, screaming, yelling, calling for help. Holding the door for dear life as if it was going to save you, because in your head it was. But the door didn't last long.

A hole is quickly created in the door. You thought you'd see someone's face, wether it be a man, a woman, whatever. But you saw a white plastic mask instead.

Ghostface.

Why was a damn Ghostface chasing after you? Was it all a sick joke from the start ? You swear you were seeing his eyes boring into yours through the mask. You swore you already saw them somewhere. Ghostface tilts their face to the side, as if mocking you. They were telling you that you were stuck, that it was the end. You hoped they'd kill you.

You couldn't live like this anymore.

In the hole of the closet, Ghostface pass his gloved hand. The latter lay on your shaky face, on your cheek to be exact. You feel the fabric against your skin and think of biting his fingers off. No, you'll angry him. If he's going to kill you, that it be in the least painful way.

"Ethan, right ? Does he treat you so well you forgot about me?" his changed voice said. A weird and creepy robotic voice, one you knew you'd never forget.

You were moving your head left to right. You didn't know why. Probably to tell you didn't want to die, probably to avoid looking into his eyes. He laughs, sounding like a rumbling.

"Ending things right now would be such a waste."

No ! You thought you were finally free ! Why would he chases you down for so long without acting on it !? His gloved hand retract and the door slowly open in an acute creaking. The man is finally revealed before you. He was wearing the whole outfit, the big black robe and the hood.

"It was fun. I give you a gift to reward you for these beautiful screams."

And the knife.

He had a knife in hand. And it was tinged red. Something in you told you it was her. Suddenly, the red writings on your wall had a different meaning.

"I hope you like it, I worked extra hard for it."

Out of nowhere, Ghostface takes your hand, force it open, and lay in it something before forcing it closed. He laughs deeply. One of his hand pat your head mockingly before moving up.

"See you later." he said, swinging his knife in a playful manner.

You were absolutely paralyzed. You didn't know what happened. You stayed up without moving for whoever say how long. When your legs finally stopped shaking, you decided to look what the killer had gave you. Slowly opening your hand, your knee buckle and you fall to the ground crying silently at the sight of a nip of your friend's hair.

You curled up on yourself before completly laying down on the ground, tightening the hairs in your hand close to your heart. She was not here anymore. You wanted to fucking die.

Ever since, Ethan was forgotten. He had tried to call you so many times you had blocked his number. You spent the rest of the day crying in your hotel's room. You resented him. So hard. He didn't answer, he was the one calling and giving your position to a fucking criminal, to a murderer! And he didn't answer. He didn't help, like everyone else.

One day later, neighbors complained about a smell coming from an apartment. You didn't cry when they found your friend's dead body. You didn't cry when cops came to interrogate you. The caretaker having told them about you. Your eyes contained so much hatred in them when looking at him the cops had to let him leave to get him away from you. You didn't cry telling the cops how many times you went to see them to ask for help, nor how many times did they reject you. You didn't cry when they told you she was dead for at least a week, and that her boyfriend was missing. You had no tears left in you. It had simply ended you.

All your lies, every single one of them, destroyed. But you needed them. Of course you weren't talking to her by text, you never did. And fuck, you don't even want to know who was answering instead of her. It was so obvious how she never wanted to call, how she was never leaving her house. But the eye you saw at the peephole. The fucking eye...

You don't want to think about it.

Ethan tried to talk to you. He went to your hotel and found you. You didn't bother to move this time as you were done with your life. He fell to his knee and started begging and crying for your forgivness. Did you even love him ? Or were you, are you, just lonely ? Unfortunately, you decided to forgot the anger you had against him when you realized he was the only thing you had. Your only support. The only one knowing you were a victim. You spent the days crying in his arms.

"Shhh, shhh, I'm here, love. It's okay." he reassured you, again.

It was a routine, now. You'd sleep the days away and when you'd wake up, you'd find yourself crying inconsolably. Everything was your fault, you kept repeating in your head. She's fucking dead because of you.

You wanted to end it all but Ethan wanted you alive at every cost. He was brushing your hair, feeding, washing and changing you. You were a lifeless doll. Sometimes, his roomate would come and talk to you. Most of the times, you don't even realize he's talking to you, too lost in your thought to proceed his presence.

"It's okay, everything's okay."

Ethan hugs you firmly. Kissing your hairline. His t-shirt was damped. Your eyes were burning. Every time you closed them, the picture of your friend would come and haunt you, a new nightmare coming. You weren't able to think about something else anymore. But it was your fault. You put her in danger, you got her killed. It was you Ghostface wanted, not her. You got her killed.

"I want to leave..." you whispered in a voice so hoarse, so weak, it didn't sound like yours. His hand goes on the back of your head to pull you towards him.

"No, no my love. It's okay. I'll protect you. You won't be alone anymore." his leg goes over yours and crushes them to prevents you from moving.

Alone.

Have you ever been alone in your life ? No, he was here all along. He was watching you all along. You never were truly alone. He had your adress, your friend's adress, your number and even Ethan's name. No, he's always here. Lurking.

"Just... Stay with me, I'll protect you. Please, don't leave me." he begs.

He looked calm, surprisingly calm being given the situation. But you needed it, in a way. If he doesn't freak out, you don't need to. (you coudn't, even if you wanted to) He probably know what to do. It was too late for you but he could do something. Maybe. His behaviour was slightly comforting. It was dangerous, mostly for him. He probably didn't even know what he was doing, he probably didn't know what he was getting himself into, in fact.

But once, just for once, you wanted to be helped. You wanted someone to listen to your pleas. He was going to die, it was a fact. And yeah, maybe you were selfish, you were condamning him after all.

"I feel like I'm using you. Like I manipulated you. you say, mostly for your own conscience than for his safety.

-Use me, love. I don't care. Manipulate me, whatever. I swore I'd help you. And if I have to risk my life doing it, I'll do it. I love you. You don't know the things I'd do for you.

-Now, you're the one manipulating me...

It was true. He was forcing you to think you had a chance in getting out of this situation when you knew there were none.

-Oh baby, you have no idea how manipulative I can be to obtain what I want.

-If you say so." you whisper, drifting to sleep once again, knowing you'd wake up hours later in the same position, in the same problem and knowing you killed your friend.

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