#I am watching all of them again tonight for tomorrow morning
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Hmmmm I’m thinking that Jinxy taking Alyx’s happiest and saddest memories probably did not help her mental state before she went to the Herbalist…
I think Weiss said it best when she said that Alex was just trying to survive, that the moral of the story was pretty simplistic. It’s simplistic but in the most fierce way possible. Alyx lied and manipulated her way through the story, gave up important memories, had an experience with the herbalist, possibly gave up her brother, and just deteriorated into her basic need to make it home, no matter the cost.
Survival is something that is not very pretty and can change the way you view the world. Even if you have a bad home life like Weiss did, one would say she just tried to survive her childhood. Especially as a kid, an already established selfish kid, surviving can be so personal. We know Jaune was just trying to help because he knew the truth but he’s just some guy she met in this magical wacky world where everyone has some kind of agenda. Of course he knew what would happen, there was some book about it. That… make sense. But what if he’s lying? When she thought Jaune was going to get in her way from getting home she got all paranoid and acted.
I’m interested in how Lewis handled all of this as well, what his experience was. We get a lot of context from what we knew about Alyx and what we currently know about her; I want to see the other side of the coin……..
#also Ruby is starting to remind me of Alyx? can’t explain just yet#I am watching all of them again tonight for tomorrow morning#rwby#rwby spoilers#rwby9#rwby theory#rwby volume 9
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#so ive been crying since 5:30am#ive had to cancel my meetings today bc i cant face people#im literally trying to save up all my will power to be able to make it through class tonight#but i just can get over whats just happened#the next few years will break me i know it#ill make sure i persevere but its gonna hurt and its going to be hard#im worried about my grandparents who rely on medicare to survive and get their medication#im worried about my trans and queer friends#im stressed about the threats about the cuts to the board of education#if its gone i loose my ability to finish school#I /rely/ on those loans like it or not#how am i supposed to face my younger sister who dreams of going to school knowing she might not get the same chance bc loans are gone#how am i supposed to watch my little cousin with adhd and autism lose his iep#how am i supposed to live with myself knowing the right to my own body is threatened at every turn#how am i supposed to be able to look both my parents in the eyes ever again and not hold their votes against them#today i let myself morn my hopes i had yesterday#tomorrow i build new hopes for the people i love and those that will be effected by this coming administration#thank god my next therapy appt ended up being schedule for this fri#anyway thanks for reading if you did#i love all of you <3 and i know we can make it through together no matter how tough
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Hiii!! Could I request a bombshell reader x Spencer where someone (a local police maybe) says something rude to her about her appearance or something and normally it doesn’t really get to her, but something snaps and she kinda shuts down/is rude to Spencer until he coaxes it out of her? Sorry it’s long I had an idea and ran w it loollll
ty for requesting angel! confident fem!reader, 1k
Spencer shouldn’t expect his colleague to hold his hand, especially one so confident. What sense would that make, a woman as established as you are, who smiles without a lick of worry nor smugness, wanting to hold his hand?
But you do it all the time, is the thing. In the car on the way to crime scenes, in the hallways of the office, under the round table. It started as a tethering for his distractedness, when one day he’d wanted to talk but hadn’t had the presence of mind to walk at the same time, so you’d taken his hand and led him to the office. You’ve been taking it at your discretion ever since.
Spencer knows something is wrong —you haven’t tried to hold his hand all day. And even if you aren’t interested in him romantically, Spencer has come to crave the touch. He’ll accept platonic hand holding. Anything, really.
“You’re staring very deeply, Dr. Reid,” you mutter, shades from your usual lightness.
“I’m thinking.”
“Aren’t you always?”
“About you.”
“Well,” you smile fleetingly. “You should always be thinking about me.”
“You’re truly humble.”
His joke doesn’t land, it crashes and burns; your smile fades completely into a short, sharp line. Your gaze moves back into the restaurant, waiting for the team's food order in silence once again.
Spencer’s pinky finger twitches across the gap.
“Is everything okay?” he asks.
“Fine.”
You stay quiet, Spencer worries. He takes the bags before you can when they bring your food to the collection desk, two lumps of heat he holds to his thighs as you begin the walk back to the hotel. Tonight, the team will pick at their food together and rehash the same arguments they’ve been making all day, filling in each other's gaps, and tomorrow the work will start again. He can’t have you this unhappy again tomorrow.
“You’re amazing,” he says, watching you turn to him from the corner of his eye, “you know you are, we all do, everyone who meets you. I know you don’t need me to tell you that, or to feel better, but… I’m here for you. If you want to talk. It’s been a hard couple of days, and talking about traumatic events as they happen and directly afterward make them easier to recover from.”
“I’m not traumatised.”
“Upsetting,” he corrects. “Having a shoulder to cry on is good for you, and I can be that shoulder. You know, if you need me to be.”
He can’t know this in the moment, though maybe one day you’ll tell him, further down the line when the hand holding is better defined, but you look at him and you love him. To know Spencer is to love him. Or at least that’s how you’ve always felt. You’d love to cry on his shoulder about what transpired that morning if it weren’t embarrassing to think about, you’re upset over a throwaway comment made by nobody important.
Spencer offers his company earnestly. He stammers. It’s amazingly sincere, as he usually is. He won’t mind if it’s embarrassing, he’ll just listen.
You clear your throat. “I know I’m not to everyone’s taste. I know that the way I… present myself isn’t what most men like. People love confidence, but not when it’s bossy, not when it’s– when it’s vain. And I am vain. I think about my appearance a lot, I think I’m beautiful most of the time, I try so hard to have that be true.” You eye him thoughtfully. “Do you realise that?”
He shakes his head gently, one ear toward one shoulder and then the other, as though balancing. ���Sort of. I know you put effort into your appearance, but I also assume a lot of it to be natural.”
“Right, well. It’s not natural. Not really. My natural beauty wouldn’t be all the beautiful to most people. And I’ve accepted that, I know what I like about myself, and–” You’re losing the thread of your point, an upset creeping into your melodic tone and turning it ragged. “When people tell me they don’t like how I look now, I guess it hurts because I know they wouldn’t like me before, either, and I feel defeated because I know I can’t win.”
“Who said they don’t like how you look?” Spencer asks, confused, on his way to annoyed.
“Officer Friendly.” You look to your shoes, watching the steps you take. “Guess he wasn’t as nice as we thought.”
“What did he say to you?”
You shrug. “Same story. He doesn’t like girls who wear makeup. Doesn’t like uppity women.”
“Did he call you that?”
“What are you gonna do if he did?” you ask without malice.
“Morgan’s teaching me self defence for a reason.” You smile at his light joke, though it doesn’t last. He transfers the takeout bags into one hand, the other held out to you, his fingers sliding down your arm to your wrist. “You know you’re beautiful, with or without makeup. And you’re not uppity, you’re out of his league. There’s a difference.”
“You’re flirting with me.”
“No.” He wishes he had the wherewithal sometimes, but this isn’t flirting. “I’m being honest with you. Men like that don’t like you because they know they’ll never, ever have you, or anyone like you. There isn’t anyone like you,” he adds, sliding his hand into yours.
He squeezes all your fingers together twice in quick succession.
“Don’t let a jealous chauvinist halfwit make you think you’re not good enough,” he says.
You curl your fingers around his before he can take his hand back. Slowly, you squeeze his hand. Then, smiling, you let him go.
“I’ve never heard you say something mean like that,” you say. “Halfwit. That’s crass.”
“I was going to say he’s an asshole, if that’s better.”
Your laugh echoes off of the sidewalk. “That’s perfect. Say something meaner.”
The insult he uses next doesn’t bear repeating.
#spencer and bombshell reader#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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I had a thought about 🥺 tending to Old Man Logan's wounds like he does to himself in Logan (2017). He deserves to be taken care of
oof anon, this made my heart ache! 🥲💖 I just watched Logan again and god those scenes broke my heart - I wrote a little drabble based on your ask (hope that is okay!) 💖 he so deserves it!
old man logan x reader | 450 words
tags: hurt/comfort, wound care, mention of blood, feelings
“Let me.”
You don’t like to be forceful with him.
Sometimes it’s the only way he’ll listen. A hand splayed against his chest as you push him back against the mattress.
Your thighs spread to straddle him, a coffee mug full of tepid water and a torn shirt tucked against his hip.
Without you, the blood would dry on his skin. Sticky against his white dress shirt, flaking off the next day. Seeping into the fabric, melding with the dew of sweat in the summer heat.
“Don’t have to-“ Logan protests - still trying to lift up on an elbow. Stubborn as an old dog. Ready to flinch away from something he doesn’t think he deserve.
Old wounds take time to heal now. Some never do, not fully.
Even after every hit he’s taken, there’s still a shaky inhale when you brush the dampened cloth against his chest.
A soft, placating hum - your other hand finding his and squeezing. All that red slowly staining the old shirt, leaving his skin clean. Revealing pinkened flesh, still knitting together.
He’ll be whole by morning. It still makes you ache.
“What happened this time?” It’s quiet, your eyes still focused on your work.
Logan grunts, fingers squeezing yours when scrub a little too hard. Your head ducking to press a kiss against his stomach, just shy of where a knife sunk to the hilt.
“Carjacking. Someone tried to take the limo.” It comes as a low rasp, his eyes not meeting yours.
You frown, “So let them have it.”
“Can’t, sweetheart,” His gaze finally finding yours - dark and solemn, “Gotta take care of you.”
You reach, a hand cupping his cheek. An ache in your chest at the way he leans into it - his eyes fluttering shut.
The mug and the shirt placed on the old wooden side table. Each wound carefully taped and covered, with practiced fingers. Shifting, until you can tuck into his side - your head nestled against his shoulder.
“We take care of each other.” It’s a reminder, murmured into the night.
He’ll come home bloody again.
Tomorrow, next week, the week after. As relentless as the grey that weaves into his beard, his temples.
Can’t stop him. Can’t stop time, either.
But tonight, he is yours. Your eyes closed as you listen - the racing of his heart gradually calms, as your fingers trace over old scars. The way he tugs you closer, as his breath evens out. Going slow and steady.
It’s enough. It has to be.
thank you for sending this! I am going to be 🥺😭 all day, omg
#logan howlett x reader#wolverine x reader#old man logan#old man logan x reader#requests#anons#eupheme answers
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Boulevard Confessions
Pairing: 1940s!Bucky Barnes x Nurse!Reader
Summary: Being a third wheel to Peggy and Steve wasn't your ideal Thursday night fun. However, when they tell you Bucky is tagging along you eagerly decide to join them. That is until a third party makes its presence known.
Word Count: 3.6k
Warning(s): drinking / fluff / jealousy / divergent from canon timeline / suggestive language / tipsy symptoms / mentions of war + the hardships that came with it
a/n: Here’s a little piece that’s been sitting unfinished in my drafts for ages. For context, this timeline is one where Steve and Bucky both made it back from the war safe and sound and are enjoying their lives now that the war is over. Thank you for reading! ₊˚⊹♡ As a little psa my writing challenge is still ongoing!! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!! ♡
for ambiance 🎶
“ I am about to spew my dinner all over this table,” you grimace, downing the rest of your martini. The bitterness of the spirits was lost on you as your consumption grew in time with your sour mood.
Peggy eyed you from across the table, holding back her amusement, “ If you keep stuffing your face with martinis you will.” You reach out to grab another unclaimed drink, but before you could, Peggy slid the rest of them away from you. You crossed your arms, blowing out a resigned sigh. Even in your inhibited state, you knew better than to argue with an SSR agent.
Peggy shook her head at you, “ As your best friend I have an obligation to put a stop to this. Don’t you have a shift tomorrow at the clinic?” Your eyes went wide at the reminder.
You slump in the booth, dreading the bad hangover awaiting you in the morning. “ I do, but thankfully it's in the afternoon. I won’t feel it by then. . .” You trailed off, failing to convince Peggy, or yourself, you wouldn’t be miserable at work tomorrow. Peggy turned to look at the dance floor before returning her attention to you, “ You know, maybe you should dance the dizzy away. It might help you sober up.” Your lips purse at her suggestion, noticing a certain blonde-haired blue-eyed super soldier returning from the bathroom.
“ It's easy for you to say. You have a dance partner,” you motioned over to Steve.
“ You would too if you would only go up and ask him,” she pointed out.
You glanced at the dancing couples, “ No way. With the way that leech is clinging on to him—I’d never get one word in.”
She shrugged, “ You’ll never know until you try.” These were her parting words before Steve arrived at the table and escorted her onto the dance floor. You watched them, your head bopping along tiredly to the swing music.
Maybe you should have stayed home.
You almost didn’t come to the outing—being the third wheel to Peggy and Steve wasn’t exactly your ideal Thursday night fun. However, Peggy had mentioned Bucky would come along, and seeing as you hadn’t seen him in a few weeks due to conflicting schedules, you thought this would be the perfect opportunity to catch up.
That was until the leech—a woman named Darla—decided to hog Bucky all night. Darla had been trying to get with Bucky for over a month now. You found this out tonight when Steve made a comment about it. Bucky hadn’t paid it much importance, so you thought it must have not been anything serious. However, right about the time you and Bucky were starting to catch up, Darla came over and dragged him away.
Since then you’ve been inhaling martinis like your lungs preferred them over air.
You couldn’t help the way your eyes drifted over to Bucky’s figure. Handsome as ever in his navy suit—your favorite color on him—and hair neatly combed. Watching as Darla threw herself at him with the courage that you lacked. Pulling him every which way on the dance floor, holding his hands to her hips in a tight grip.
Your stomach contents were threatening to come up again.
When did things get so complicated? You scratched at your brain for an answer. Spending time with Bucky had been so easy back at the military base where you met. You were stationed there in the medical unit caring for wounded and ill soldiers. During that time, you became great friends with Peggy and everyone on the Howling Commandos team. Bucky would frequently visit the medical unit even when he wasn’t sick or wounded. Sometimes you swore he would fake injuries or aches just to come and see you. Anytime he came in with something new he would refuse to see any other nurse but you.
It made you feel special. While other women were smitten with his charms and stumbled over seizing his attention—you had it without effort. You had so much more than just his attention without even trying. On hopeless nights he shared his fears, on days where the war seemed endless you eased his worries, and when he felt like the world was crashing down on him his heart spilled all vulnerabilities to you.
You found refuge from the horrors of war in each other—a balm to each other’s wounds that went beyond the physical. In no time, something deeper for him bloomed within your heart.
Ever since the war was over, however, things have been different. It’s been a couple of years and Steve and Bucky work alongside Peggy for the Strategic Scientific Reserve. Going on missions has become their norm, so seeing your friends is a rarity nowadays.
You on the other hand were given a job at a children’s clinic in Brooklyn. You were grateful for this small piece of normality coming back to you. Treating smaller wounds on smaller bodies instead of lethal wounds during a relentless battle. Your senses are permanently burned with sights, sounds, and smells horrific enough to induce nightmares—and they do—managing to steal precious hours of sleep from you almost every night.
It was something you and Bucky especially bonded over.
“ May I have the honor of a dance, gorgeous?” A voice interrupted your thoughts. You looked up to meet a pair of unrecognizable hazel eyes. A handsome stranger stood in front of you, his hand outstretched for you to take. If you had but only one percentage less of alcohol in your system you would have declined his offer. This of course wasn’t the case, and not wanting to reminisce on more melancholy thoughts, you decided to listen to Peggy’s advice and dance the dizzy away.
Even if it wasn’t with the man you wanted to dance with.
“ You may,” you smiled at him, taking hold of his hand. Swiftly you were swept into the sea of couples on the dance floor. The handsome stranger—who you soon learn was named Thomas—was an impeccable dancer. With one hand holding yours, and the other holding you gently at your lower back, he spun you around the dance floor in rhythmic kicks and slides. Thomas’ energy was infectious and you couldn’t help but match his enthusiasm.
After two dances your footwork and Thomas’ were practically synchronized. Thomas twirled you, causing a giggle to escape your lips. It seemed the alcohol was stubborn about staying in your system as the twirl caused the dizziness to come back—for a split second—making you trip over your own foot. Thomas caught you and steadied you, both of you laughing at your clumsiness. The carefreeness of it all lulled the ache in your heart.
Behind Thomas, you caught a glimpse of Peggy who was dancing as joyfully with Steve. Her eyes met yours and she sent you an encouraging smile. Soon after, her eyes drifted to something behind you, turning her smile into a smirk. You went back to dancing with Thomas, but manoeuvered around to get a look at what caused Peggy to smirk. Your heart did a little jump when you discovered she had been looking at Bucky and Darla, dancing a few feet from where you were.
Correction. She had been staring at a Bucky you barely recognized. His jaw clenched and body rigid as he glared daggers at the back of Thomas’ head. Darla beside him looked snubbed, tugging on Bucky’s arm to get his attention. His tense demeanor didn’t move an inch no matter how much she protested. The pair were no longer dancing, merely standing in the sea of all the couples. This piqued your curiosity.
Why had he stopped dancing? And to glare at Thomas of all things?
You didn’t have much time to think about it as Darla, clearly fed up by Bucky’s lack of attention, grabbed him by his arm and pulled him away from the dance floor. You swayed to and fro with Thomas, controlling the direction you were swinging in to try and not lose Bucky from your line of sight.
Where was Darla taking him?
Your heart stopped when you realized where they were going. Darla was making a beeline for the back of the bar where the honey hallway was. The spot where all the couples went to have a little more privacy and fool around without having to leave the bar. If he was going there with Darla, then maybe things were more serious between them than you previously believed.
Your heart dropped to your stomach when reality sank in.
You excused yourself from Thomas, scurrying away in need of some fresh air. He offered to follow along, but you declined wanting to be alone. You threw the entrance door open into the Brooklyn night as a sickly feeling spread throughout your body.
You stepped into the street, the swing music fading into the background as the door closed behind you. You took in a deep breath, once again regretting the amount of alcohol you had consumed.
If you weren’t drunk seeing Bucky with someone else wouldn’t have hurt so much. It wouldn’t have knocked the air out of your lungs like it's doing now.
You know that’s a lie. That’s a damn lie you’re telling yourself to get you through the night. To give you the strength to focus on your surroundings and trudge home.
You’d eventually do that. First, however, your body seemed to want to cling to a street lamp to bring the world back to you. The cold metal underneath your palms grounding you for a moment. The breeze blowing past you threading through your hair as if to comfort you.
“ Doll, everything alright?” Your heart stuttered when you heard his voice, the thud of the bar door closing following it. You shut your eyes and bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from saying or doing anything the liquid courage in your system was trying to wrestle out of you.
You knew you needed to make a quick getaway.
“ I’m fine. Just heading home,” you were straight to the point before turning to walk away. Not looking at him as you put one foot in front of the other—and then stumbled.
Bucky caught you, his arms offering a strong support,“ Woah, Y/n, how much did you drink?” There was a slight annoyance in his tone. As if the mere thought of you having fun was preposterous.
Or at least that’s how your tipsy state interpreted it.
“ Doesn’t matter. I can have a drink or two if I want to. I get to have fun too,” you retort, trying to push his arms away from your body. Your arms are no match for his, as he doesn’t budge an inch—on the contrary, his hold gets more firm. The world started to spin more, but at this point, whether it was because of the martinis or his proximity—you wouldn’t know.
Bucky huffed and rolled his eyes,“ This isn’t having fun. This is going overboard,” he counters. His constant need to hold you steady and scold you for drinking irked the part of you that was already upset with him—fueling it more. Especially when you had the image of him heading to the honey hallway with Darla ingrained in your brain. And his arms, the ones around you now, swinging her around on the dancefloor.
There was something dark bubbling an envious brew within you.
“ Why do you give a damn?” you snap out harshly. He stills at your tone and it's enough to shake his hold off of you. You force yourself to look at him. Intending to shoot him an annoyed glare. Something to convey what your heart felt when your words failed to—but when your eyes met his you froze.
They were dark—virtually stormy—and yet, there was a hint of pain in them. Almost as if you had kicked him, but he was toughing it out.
“ What was that about?” He finally spoke after what seemed like too long.
“ What was what about?” You feigned innocence.
His eyes got darker, a disapproving half smile on his face,“ Don’t play coy. I come out here to check on you. You’re stumbling like a drunk fool. I try to help and you snap at me?”
“ I didn’t ask you to,” you’re quick with your dismissal.
“ You…unbelievable…” Bucky lets out a scoff, not knowing how to respond. He doesn’t know what’s gotten into you. In his mind, you’re simply too drunk to regulate yourself. He doesn’t know the vile jealousy that bubbles in the pit of your stomach and gnaws at your heart. He doesn’t know the intense battle your emotions are having with your brain—right in front of him—to stay silent before you truly say something you cannot take back.
“ Go back inside. I’m heading home,” you say simply, not wanting to dwell on this conversation any longer. You feared what might come of it if you didn’t.
“ No. I'm walking you home,” he shakes his head firmly, his tone matching in conviction.
“ No, you're not,” you reply, turning to make your way down the boulevard. Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose, “ Like hell I'm not, doll. I'm not letting you walk home alone.”
“I'm not letting you walk me home. I don't want you to,” you say adamantly as your feet start moving. Bucky is right beside you as they do, not letting you get away,“ I don't care what you want or don't want. I'm walking you home and that's final.” His voice leaves no room for argument.
The martinis in your system don’t particularly give a damn, but it is enough to quiet you for the time being. Your speed increases slightly, but Bucky can match it easily. For a moment you consider running—as ridiculous as an idea that may be.
The sharp patter of your footsteps against the pavement synchronizes with the thudding of his as they mingle down the boulevard. The city sounds around you are an otherwise low hum of the occasional car and distant conversation. The city still whispering its signs of life at this time of night.
The walk to your place isn’t too far. And you know if you don’t shake him off soon there would be an unpleasant conversation awaiting you when you arrive.
“ Don’t you have someone waiting on you at the bar?” You remind him with a little sting to your heart. Secretly hoping this wasn’t the reason he’d walk away from you.
Bucky frowns, thinking for a moment before speaking,“ What? You mean Darla?” The sound of her name on his lips bristles you.
“ Yeah, her,” the word her spills from your lips as if it was venomous. Bucky catches that and is taken aback for a second. His footsteps coming to a stop. You push yourself to keep walking. Taking this as a sign to ignore the tiny part of your brain that begs you to stop moving.
Not a minute later Bucky strides to your side,“ Doll…are you jealous?” He asks with the tiniest bit of doubt, his small smile overshadowing it.
“ Me? Ha! No,” your denial is quick—too quick. His small smile turns into a wide grin. You’ve just confirmed his conjecture,“ Yes, you are.”
“ No. Go ahead and marry her for all I care. I won’t be at the wedding anyway,” you don’t mean what you say and yet you said it anyway. Playing up the indifference act you’ve dawned.
“ You won’t be at my wedding?” He’s not upset when he responds, he's amused. He has to hold back his laughter at your train of thought. This gets under your skin and you grumble a snippy no before picking up your pace. You’re now imagining Darla in a wedding dress next to Bucky in his suit and it does devastating things to you.
“ That’s impossible.”
“ How so? I just won’t go.”
His tone takes a more serious turn when he replies, “ It’ll be hard to have a wedding without the bride there.” You come to a halt, your head whipping so fast to look at him you almost gave yourself whiplash.
“ What?” You manage to find your voice. His gaze softens,“ You heard me, doll.” He’s being completely sincere—you know this deep down. However, there’s still a part of you that doesn’t believe this is happening. That believes this to be a dream.
“ You don’t mean that.”
“ I do. If you were to ask me where I see forever—I see it with you.”
His confession takes your breath away. The mere admission of him thinking of you as his eternity—as the one he wants beside him for life—your heart could burst at how delightfully overwhelmed it feels.
“ But you—” you start and his pointer finger gently presses against your lips to shush you. He already knows what you’re about to bring up and he needs to nip it before your drunken mind jumps to wilder conclusions.
“ She’s just a friend. She’s a secretary at the SSR—nothing more. I was dancing with her to be nice. Honestly, I was trying to find a polite way to leave her and get back to you until I saw you dancing with that guy,” he removes his finger from your lips once he’s done explaining. At the mention of Thomas, his jaw clenches briefly and annoyance flashes in his eyes.
It dawns on you why he was glaring at Thomas earlier. The realization of Bucky having felt as jealous as you did sends your heart ablaze. Your heart had gone through so much tonight, you were surprised it hadn’t gone into cardiac arrest already.
“ Who’s the jealous one now?” you tease, an almost giddy smile on your face.
Bucky rolls his eyes playfully,“ Yeah, doll. Unlike you, I’ll admit it. I was jealous. I don’t like seeing you with another man. Laughing and dancing—should've been me, not him,” he says stepping closer to you. His eyes reflected pure adoration.
“ Why didn’t you ask me?” your question comes out quieter than you’d like. Enamored with the way he’s looking at you. You can barely focus on anything else.
“ Because when it comes to you I get all nervous and worked up. It's like I’m a punk again—a dumb kid with a crush. I don’t want to mess it up with you, Y/n. I would never want to do anything to lose you. Guess I got too caught up in doing things right I didn’t do anything at all,” Bucky opens up to you, his answer shedding away any last bit of hesitance in your body.
“ Bucky…I wish it would’ve been you instead too,” you say softly, stepping closer until you’re only a few inches away from him. His features match yours in fondness as he gently reaches out to grab hold of your waist, pulling you even closer, and closing the final bit of distance between you.
Your hands rest delicately at his chest. You can feel the way his heart races under your fingertips, drawing out a small gasp from you. Knowing you had this effect on him delighted you. It made you wonder how long you had been making him feel this way—and how long you had missed the signs.
“ Told you. I’m a dumb kid with a crush,” he reiterates with a soft chuckle. You giggle at his words, beaming dreamily at the way that all of this is real. That Bucky has feelings for you, and you two can only grow closer from here on out.
For a split second his eyes dart to your mouth. Having you so close like this tempts Bucky to no end. Everything he’s ever wanted to do with you crosses his mind and it drives him crazy. He has no idea where to start or if he’ll even let himself start anywhere.
Your body thrums with anticipation as it waits for him to make a move.
Bucky ends up tenderly kissing your forehead, “ Come on, doll. Let’s get you home.” Your lips form a light pout, disappointed his lips didn’t touch yours. He sees your reaction and he laughs, giving your hips a light squeeze, “ Doll, our first kiss will happen after you get that alcohol out of your system,” he says, one hand reaching up to lightly swipe at your nose—finding you endearing.
“ We’ve already had our first kiss.”
“ Doll we—oh, we have…”
The memory of you two drunkenly kissing in the medical tent on one particularly lonely night during the war flashes through your minds. The already tension between you rising to a palpable form.
There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes,“ Still. If I’m being honest, I’m not stopping at just one kiss. So let’s wait until you’re sober, alright?”
“ Not stopping?” Your tone is playful as you pry for further explanation.
“ Oh no, doll. I'll be doing so much more than kissing you,” he smirks, his words laced with suggestion. His hand goes out to cup your face, caressing your cheek. It warms under his fingertips at his implication. The air around you buzzes with electricity.
He can tell where your mind went and he’s enjoying every second of it,“ Yeah, doll. Like taking you out on a proper date,” he winks at you. A genuine laugh erupts from you at the way he side steps what he really meant. He joins you in the laughter, his eyes telling you the truth of what he really desires.
You. Every bit of you.
You interlace your fingers with his, knowing deep down he has a point. When you kiss Bucky you want to be all there. You want all your senses to be fully awake to drink in every bit of him.
Especially if it goes farther than a kiss.
Bucky moves you over so he’s walking on the outermost part of the sidewalk, holding your interlaced hands to his waist so you’re pressed right up against his side as you walk. You tease and playfully banter all the way to your apartment. The unspoken promises and unmistakable yearning for one another dancing around you two. Assuring you there was so much more to come.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes#bucky fluff#bucky fic#bucky x reader#bucky barnes fic#1940s bucky#bucky barnes x fluff#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes x you#bucky x y/n#bucky x you#bucky barnes x fem!reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes x female reader
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❝ LONG SHOT ! ❞ ; 001
❝ PROFESSIONAL BASKETBALL PLAYER!GOJO SATORU X PHYSICAL THERAPIST!READER. ❞
SYNOPSIS: After an unexpected encounter with the infamous Gojo Satoru at a local convenience store at 3 A.M. You're given the opportunity to worm your way into his life, but not without a personal invitation from Gojo himself. One thing leads to another, and you're the first person they call when he gets a career-threatening injury, forcing both of you to spend day and night together, but not without some obstacles of course: your cousin.
WORD COUNT : 8K SERIES MASTERLIST : ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . NAVIGATION : ꩜
PT. 1 : PT. 2
Your days start off simple. Wake up at 5 am. Shower at 5:05. Get ready at 5:30. Breakfast at 6:30am. Leave your cozy city apartment at 7:00 am –sharp– to make it to work.
“Good morning Miwa,” you greet politely, walking past her desk and she scrambles to gather her clipboard. Hot on your tail, she frantically looks over her notes. “What do you have for me today?” You ask.
“Doctor, your first consultation of the day is waiting for you in your office! And your regular patient called to let you know that those exercises you suggested are working wonders!” You nod and hum occasionally to inform her that you’re listening as you maneuver through the rest of the doctors, stopping momentarily to encourage a patient lifting weights. She speaks quickly. “And Doctor Shoko called to ask if you’ll be going to…” she pauses and you figure she’s looking at her notes again. “The basketball game,” and she's quick to add “ —the Jujutsu Sorcerers are playing tomorrow night.”
You stop abruptly outside of your office door, feeling Miwa lightly bump into your back before she mutters a swift apology. You turn around, raising a questioning eyebrow. “She called about that? Tell her I’m bus-”. Miwa’s quick to intercept. “She insists! Plus, I thought you loved the Jujutsu Sorcerers?”
You think it over.
You did like them. No. They were your absolute favorite basketball team. Besides, you could never turn down a basketball game.
“Fine. I’ll see her tomorrow night. Thank you Miwa.”
“We have just minutes to go here in the fourth quarter of the season opener at the Sorcerer Stadium. The Jujutsu Sorcerers are up by ten over the Special Grades, thanks much to the tremendous effort of the star point guard, Gojo Satoru.”
Inside the stadium is loud, as fans cheer on their favorite teams. It’s a full game tonight. A completely sold out stadium with all the people that showed up to praise their favorite players. The energy is loud, and fun. As people stand, and others sit in their seats in a stressful manner—mostly the losing team.
The two kids behind you wear matching Jujutsu Sorcerers jerseys. One boy is sporting a 01 while the other sports a 02. One for the infamous Gojo Satoru and the other for Geto Suguru. You’re happy to admit that you too are sporting a number 01 jersey.
“Gojo Satoru, one of the best point guards in the league. Living up to his reputation and title of the ‘Chosen One’, tonight.” You listen, and watch intently as the announcers speak of Gojo. As he dribbles left, dodging every player in his way, bypassing their attempts to stop him. He’s unstoppable.
“He looks inside. And he’s got nothing there.” The announcer anticipates. The crowd stands up from their seats eager to watch his next move. Their anticipation is intense as everyone in the stadium witnesses the Gojo Satoru work up close.
“He’s gonna take it himself!” The announcer exclaimed in disbelief, he himself could not believe this. “Behind the back! He puts it up, and it's good” The entire stadium puts their hands up to cheer, and scream. You see a mix of colors in the crowd, mostly a light blue in support of the Jujutsu Sorcerers.
You tune out the announcers as Gojo Satoru is celebrating his team's score. He’s sweating so much his jersey sticks to his chest and stomach. You can faintly make out the outline of his abs. His muscles flex as he lifts his shirt up to wipe the sweat off his forehead, his abs on full display. You grin at how hot he is. Anyone with eyes can see it. You swear you hear the girls cheer louder at the display of skin. Even if you were still here for the game, you were still a woman after all.
“You’re drooling.” Shoko points out beside you, and you almost reach your hand towards your mouth to check before you playfully narrow your eyes at her. “Please,” you say dismissively, “What’s the correct way to react to a court full of sweaty hot guys? Watch the game?”.
Her eyes roll dramatically before sporting a playful grin, and you bump your shoulder against hers to bring out a full smile from her. You succeed.
Shoko continues to cheer on the team. This is the most excited you’ve seen her since she found a remaining cigarette in her car after she’d just ran out. You were so distracted by the cigarette addict beside you that you almost missed the foul they gave the other team as Gojo Satoru stands on the free throw line.
“Gojo Satoru shot 95% from the freethrow line last season, but he’s been 100% tonight.” The announcers go back to bickering about the game, praising Gojo’s in-game scores. “Let’s see if he stays on his hot streak tonight, and for the rest of the season–”.
Gojo dribbles the ball, and the stadium remains silent. The tension thick in the air as they hold their breath–even you, who leans forward in anticipation. He locks his knees, and shoots straight into the basketball hoop. The ball never even touches the rim. He makes both shots. Gojo smirks cockily as he slaps Geto’s hand twice in celebration.
“-And he’s done it! It’s 12 in a row, for Gojo Satoru. Geto Suguru–number two–has 10 tonight. Quite a duo on the court. I would say.”
Shoko and you cheer on the team as they celebrate the win themselves. The kids behind you scream so loud your eardrums almost pop, but you can’t find it in yourself to mind.
The energy in the stadium tonight reminds you of why you loved going to basketball games in the first place. The excitement in the court, and in the entire stadium is something no one can miss.
The kids behind you are so excited that it spreads to you, and you jump up to celebrate with them. Their toothy smiles are so big and bright. They warm your heart. The moment is quickly ruined by the woman sitting on the other side of you, opposite Shoko.
“Look at that!” Your cousin harshly tugs your arm, pulling you down to reach her seat. “The player’s wives section. Full of snobby bitches.” Her fingers frantically shake to dramatize how much she wants you to see. “I’m looking.” You reply exasperated before rolling your eyes. “She has a custom Birkin! Do you have any idea how expensive that is?” She asks, and you reply with a muttered response “A house mortgage loan, I assume.”
Your cousin was—to put it shortly–spoiled, but you respected her views on someday marrying a rich man. The only problem with that is that she even uses the good ones.
She was a model. Not a well known one, but a model nonetheless. She was gorgeous, and everyone knew it. Even the men you dated. Most of them had gone as far to tell you. But you never let it deter your self-esteem. Men are a defective species and that has nothing to do with you. You choose to push that thought aside before it can develop into a mental breakdown in the middle of a basketball game.
The children screaming behind you interrupt it before it can. “Look, look!” The kids behind you frantically poke at you to look.
“He just made a three-pointer,” the boy lisps a little, and you swear you feel the saliva hit your face.
More than half of the game is just Gojo Satoru stealing the ball, and making countless scores.
You look up at the clock and see the time as it read ten seconds on the board.
“Gojo Satoru again with the ball!” You watch as he steals the ball and dribbles all the way across the court. Five seconds on the clock. He jumps up, and slams the ball directly into the basketball net with both hands still hanging onto the rim. “Anddd Number 1… brings the game home!” And the final buzzer rings across the court, calling the game. Zero seconds on the board.
The announcer makes one last comment, “Unbelievable performance by Gojo Satoru.”
Gojo is instantly swarmed with reporters in hopes of getting a word with him. But he’s fine with this. He loves the attention. He loves it when all eyes are on him. He thinks it’s how it should always be. A cocky man at heart.
“Tremendous game tonight Gojo Satoru.” The reporter speaks, and she’s too close for any regular reporter, and Gojo catches onto it quickly. “Thank you, thank you.” He responds in an airy flirty tone.
He scans the stands, and his eyes catch onto a woman helping two kids from their seats—they wear the number of his jersey, and Getos. His eyebrows furrow, and he tunes out the reporter subconsciously. The mysterious woman laughs at something her friend says—and his eyebrows lift up in surprise at the recognition of his friend, Shoko.
“Almost a decade with the Jujutsu Sorcerers, the only franchise you’ve ever played for…” a male reporter takes a lead on his attention as Gojo turns his head over to talk to the male reporter. He smiles into the camera, a radiant smile.
A player from the opposing team passes Gojo before patting his back, and cheers at him for the good game.
“...But you’re a free agent at the end of the season. The question everyone wants to know… will Gojo Satoru re-sign with the Jujutsu Sorcerers?” he asks as he shifts the microphone from side to side at the question, urging Gojo to answer. The reporters surrounding him, too, lean closer into him.
Gojo licks his lips before responding. His chest breathing erratically from the previous game, “I prove myself night in and night out on that court. I’m the best in the league right now. Of course they’ll sign me. I’m the best.”
He winks at the female reporter after his proud admission as her face turns bright red at the display of flirtation. She lowers the microphone to say something to him personally before his manager comes disrupting the flirty exchange and drags him away from the reporters as their distant shouts begin to fade, entering the locker room.
You’re exiting the stadium before one of your cousin’s friends invites herself into the conversations. Completely interrupting your rant about how horrible the injury a recent basketball player received.
“Girl, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” You turn around at the sound of the high-pitched voice, and see a woman dressed in all black, some large classy sunglasses, and a dark cherry red lipstick. Her aura emitted elegance, and high-class.
“Hey,” she greets you in a monotone voice before turning over to your cousin again and her excitement seems to be shot back into her system as she begins to ramble to your cousin. Your head tilts at her attitude. Disbelief is clear on your face.“It is so packed in here, it is so gross.” She comments with an undeniable hint of disgust in her voice as she clutches her mini purse closer to her.
“But anyway!” she dismisses, “Gojo Satoru… is having a birthday party Saturday night at his house, but we don’t have the tickets yet, sooooo we’re going to an after party tonight, and see if we can worm ourselves into getting some tickets.” She picks at her nails before grabbing your cousin's hands to shake them in an urging manner. She takes her glasses off to show her a pleading look.
Your cousin lifts her eyebrow in question, “Where’s the after party?”
“The Shibuya Hotel.” Your cousin thinks it over before nodding, turning over to you. “You don’t mind do you?”
You smile at her, “No, not at all. Do your thing.”
“K-K, bye!” Her long slender fingers moving back and forth in a quick and dismissive goodbye.
The bells above the door jingle to announce the presence of someone entering the convenience store. The sudden sound of them has you looking up.
After the game ended you went home and locked yourself up to finish some remaining paperwork, before checking the time and deciding to grab a snack at your favorite corner store.
You glance up at the clock in wonder. It’s currently 3 a.m, and the convenience store tucked into the sketchy corner of the city is always empty. It’s quite a walk from here to your apartment, but a welcomed one. Especially at this time. You always found yourself making late night trips to the store for a midnight snack. They were just something you found quite peaceful. A walk in the dark as you play your favorite playlist, finding a chance to lose yourself in your own head.
You were close to the owner, an old sweet man that conjured a liking to you because of how much you resembled his daughter that was currently deployed overseas.
You spare a glance at the hooded figure that steps into the store, their back turned to you, but you note how tall they are. A shiver runs down your spine as the opened door allows cold air to rush into the tight space.
You’re not sure if the shiver was a cause of the gust of wind that slithered its way inside or the new presence of the looming figure. You don't like to ponder on the possibility that it might be the latter.
You continue to browse through the mochi flavors, looking for your beloved one. It’s unusual for them to be unstocked around this time, considering how cold the weather is. And how empty this side of town finds itself to be. You sigh as you bend down to get a better look.
You feel a presence behind you, and you stiffen at their closeness. A masculine, slender hand, comes into view, as it reaches for the exact flavor of mochi you so happened to be reaching for as well. You both freeze at the sudden, and unexpected contact before both releasing a nervous laugh.
But neither of you find it in yourselves to retract your hands. You clear your throat before speaking.
“Listen…It’s been a rough night,” You start, and turn to face him, but pause mid sentence at the look of what he’s wearing. A black face mask, a black hoodie with the hood of it over his head, and some sunglasses?…At night…and indoors? Not only that, but the man in question was insanely tall. Taller than any regular man you’ve encountered. He had the height of a basketball player.
“Never mind,” You suddenly find yourself not in the mood to argue with a suspicious stranger at 3 a.m. in a sketchy part of town.
Your mother always taught you that as a woman being careful with who you piss off, especially a man that could bring you harm, was important. You wish you had the confidence to defend yourself physically, but you’d rather never have to take those chances. That was the reality of it.
“You can keep it.” You mutter before gathering your things, and speeding over to the cash register. You watch him scan your items, but you can’t shake off the feeling of two eyes burning holes in your back throughout the whole ordeal.
You pull your scarf tighter against your neck as you speed walk in the direction of your apartment. The cold of the fall and lack of sun always make your entire body quiver. You thank your past self for wearing thick layers of clothing, knowing you wouldn’t be able to handle the freezing weather.
You never could handle the cold.
Your senses heightened when you heard steps approaching behind you, quickly at that.
You clench your first in your coat jacket, readying yourself for anything. The steps get closer, and you wait until you feel their presence closely behind you before swinging around, surprising him with a amateaur punch. “Ow!” the stranger winces. “What the fuck!” He chokes out in surprise, holding his face in shock.
You bring your hands up to your mouth in a gasp. “Oh- My-God!” A frantic apology is quick to escape your lips. “Why would you do that?!” You question the stranger exasperatedly. “Don’t–sneak up on a woman like that!” Your hands move around to signal the obvious, it’s dark.
“Well, fuck!” He responds, “I was just trying to give you the mochi,” His hand extends to reveal the truth. A mochi sits in his grasp—not just any mochi—the one you abandoned back in the store for the sake of it. He chased after you to give it to you.
Your body deflates at the realization, and it makes you feel a tiny bit sorry. Not for long when you realize he's most certainly at fault. He should’ve known not to approach a girl in the dead of night.
A few feet of distance separates you both, but you can’t help but release a tiny embarrassed laugh at the comedic situation. Your contagious laugh seems to transfer to him because he releases a small huff of amusement under his breath.
You’re both standing under a streetlamp a few feet away from the convenience store, in a defense mode. The stranger in front of you still holds onto his face in an attempt to relieve the pain.
The physical therapist in you kicks in, and you step closer towards him to inspect the damage. He’s reluctant to let you approach him, tensing is evident in the way his shoulders square up. But you reassure him. “It’s okay,” you softly comfort, “I’m a physical therapist, I just want to see that it won’t bruise or anything.”
Your words seem to help because his guarded shoulders deflate a little.
“Let me see,” you murmur into the dark, reaching over to remove his hand. He watches you intently through his glasses, and you realize he’s wearing a lot to protect his face. You take the time to study his remote way of dressing. His attempt to hide himself, you reason within yourself. His hair is covered by a black hood, paired with a black beanie, a black face mask that covers his lips and nose, a light blue sweatshirt that brings some color, some gray sweats that cover the entirety of his long legs, and a black puffer jacket to help keep the cold out. He looks warm, yet cold at the same time.
You wonder why he’s deliberately trying to hide who–or what—he is.
You find out soon enough because when you peel off his hand, and later his face mask to get a better look at his cheek you blurt out the first thing that crosses your mouth.
“You’re Gojo Satoru.” It’s spoken in a whisper, he almost doesn’t hear the acknowledgement with how soft your voice travels. Your eyes are wide with surprise, and a bit of elation. It felt like a caress, he notes.
A choked gasp almost leaves your lips when you take off his sunglasses and find the most unreal set of blue eyes stare back at you.
“The one, and only.” His response doesn’t come out as confident as he planned. Instead it came off shaky, and unsure. Breathless even. He blames it on the look on your face, and the way you stare intently into his eyes, seeing straight through him. His lips crack into a smile, and the amused look in your eye caused by his cheesy line.
“You sound more confident on TV.” You retaliate. He’s quick with a witty response, “Maybe you just make me nervous.” He wets his lips with a swipe of his tongue, taking you in. You’re illuminated by the streetlamp.
You laugh at his stupid attempt to flirt with you, playfully dismissing his advances.
Bringing your focus back to his cheek you inspect it before speaking, “It won’t bruise,” He looks like he’s ready to speak up but you interrupt him by finishing your sentence, “But—you’ll still need to ice it. At least for tonight.”
Of course it wouldn’t bruise, you’ve never taken any lessons on how to properly hit—let alone land a punch. You punched him in hopes of catching him off guard before he could surprise you, giving you the chance to run for the hills, not because you knew you’d be able to take a stranger in a fight.
When your fight or flight response kicked in, you didn’t even ponder the possibility of punching a professional athlete, let alone a professional basketball player. One that played for your favorite team. Quite frankly you were starstruck, and the fangirl in you was having an entire party. The Gojo Satoru was here. Right in front of you. He was even more gorgeous up close—taller too.
The cameras did indeed do him justice, but nothing ever compares to the real thing. His bright blue eyes, and snow-white lashes were straight out of a magical fairytale. As much as you’d like to jump up and down, and then hug him, you knew you had to contain yourself. Otherwise you would scare him away. Or he would feel too uncomfortable to engage in casual conversation with a crazy fan.
But you were more of a basketball fan than solely a Gojo Satoru fan, and that fact alone was keeping you at bay. Your early childhood years of having a basketball coach father always kept you engaged in basketball in general.
After going back inside the convenience store to grab some ice from the ice machine—with Gojo trailing closely behind you—you both now sat on the edge of the sidewalk right in front of the convenience store, talking amongst one another about nothing in particular. The only source of lighting being the lit up convenience store, and the streetlamp hovering over your seater figures.
Gojo sits beside you with a hand holding the ice pack to his face, while another is used to reach into the bag of mochi to grab some more. But your mind can’t seem to ignore how close you two sit against one another, your thighs are almost touching from your close proximity.
“Thank you.” Gojo’s hushed voice cuts through the silly conversational atmosphere, and turns into a semi-serious one.
A tiny toothless smile spreads across your face, “You can thank me, by winning the championships.” Your knee knocks into his in an attempt to bring back the playful mood, and he takes it gratefully. He responds eagerly by knocking his knee against yours in response. His touch shoots a tingle up your spine.
Your smile must be contagious because the cutest lopsided smile makes an appearance on Gojo’s face, “Oh, so you’re really a die-hard fan?” He teases.
“Ever since I was a little girl.”
“How so?” He asks, his eyes never leaving your face as his hands reach into the bag of mochi to munch on.
“Well,” You think about your next words as you gesture for Gojo to move the bag of mochi closer so that you can grab a piece, “My dad was a college basketball coach—still is—and all through elementary to middle school I would often sit on the side of practices and watch them play. So I kind of developed an interest in watching the sport. I find it nostalgic—in a way. My dad and I just bond over it.”
You mention how you were looking to become a professional NBA physical therapist. It had been your dream ever since you were a little girl. And it still is. Though you’re a current sports physical therapist— the best in your field—you want more.
He’s silent as he reflects on your response. You take this as your chance to bite into your mochi, humming contently at the yummy taste. The chewy texture is satisfying against your tongue, its sweetness seeping into your mood.
“That’s cool,” he replies after a moment of silence. “I grew up watching—and playing—basketball too.” He pauses, and you patiently wait as he collects his thoughts.
“But mostly because our family has been professional basketball players for generations, and I just kind of fell into that.”
You nod your head in understanding. You wonder if he’s playing because he genuinely likes the game or because it’s expected of him to continue the tradition. The legacy.
You knew about the Gojo family being generational professional basketball players. Every single one of them have played for the Jujutsu Sorcerers, and because of them they’ve always been an outstanding basketball team. Some consider them to be reincarnations of each other, but that’s just silly internet theories.
There’s numerous articles about the Gojo family, a lot of them highlighting the way they dominate almost every industry. Their wealth, and worldwide superiority is insanely known. It went beyond just Gojo’s direct family playing professional basketball, their entire family tree is gifted with various qualities.
You can’t imagine the burden he must carry.
One thing is certain and it’s that you’re genuinely delighted in his presence. You realize he’s silent before looking over at him, and you frown at the unreadable look on his face. “What’s wrong?” You probe.
His gorgeous bright blue eyes look all over your face in an analytical kind of way, before a ghost smile grazes his features. “Nothing,” he says softly, his eyes staring softly at you, “Nothing at all.” He turns back to bite into his mochi, chewing on it before contently humming to himself.
A familiar tune, you realize, and you gasp before hitting his arm, “Is that the Digimon tune?” His eyes twinkle in surprise, and something like eagerness—before he takes off into another excited rant. Telling you about his favorite digital pet model toy he used to own as a kid, and how he still has a collection of them at home. He tells you about how he wishes to find a rare one. His descriptions are so animated, and you can’t help but stare fondly at his features.
Though you weren’t a huge digimon fan, you don’t bother telling him in fear of breaking through his elation.
How the corner of his lips turns up in excitement or how his hands are used to animatedly demonstrate what he is trying to portray. Often used to wave them around. Your favorite feature would have to be his eyes, and the way they sparkle when he talks about something he's passionate about. Even in the darkness his ice cold blue eyes find a way to look so warm.
You like the bubble you’ve both created for yourselves. Time feels unimportant, and worries feel so far away.
After his rant you fall back into a comfortable silence. The ambience around you does a good job at filling the silence. The crickets hidden in the grass sing as the wind blows, swaying the trees. The moon lightens up the world to the best of her ability. But the city is alive, it always is. New York never sleeps, even at night. It’s probably the time it’s most awake.
Gojo breaks the comfortable silence,“What are you doing Saturday night?”
You make it back at 7 a.m., (with the help of Gojo driving you home), and thank the gods that you didn’t have work today. Shoko would’ve pestered you about your late-night whereabouts.
You’re welcomed by the sight of your cousin sitting on the floor by the coffee table surrounded by numerous magazines scattered around the living room. Her concentration prompts you to raise a skeptical eyebrow.
Cautiously walking into her space to not cause a disturbance, you ask her why she has a mess in your living room.
“I’m researching.” What could she possibly be researching in a magazine?
She notices your confused silence, and heavily sighs before putting her pen down. “I’m trying to figure out how to marry a professional athlete so that I can leech off him, and live a happy–rich–life. A girl doesn’t just become the wife of a NBA franchise player by accident.” She takes a moment to apply lip gloss before continuing.
“It takes strategy, good intel, and vision.” She finishes off before grabbing the poster board sitting next to her, showing you a pin board with various different basketball players. Thankfully, a certain bright blue eyed player is absent.
Next to each of their pictures is their name, age, birthday, interests, basketball team, and other miscellaneous facts. Her entire pin-board looks like an FBI investigation wall.
“Modeling only pays so much. Especially as a model who isn’t a Super-model.” An exasperated breath leaves her lips as if she was exhausted from just explaining the obvious to you.
“I mean look at this!” She says, frantically showing you the magazine. You lean over to get a better look as you read the title.
‘PROFESSIONAL ATHLETE, NANAMI KENTO’S WIFE STARTS BRAND NEW BAKING TELEVISION SHOW.’
“These women get fragrance deals, shoe lines, clothing lines, like; Oh.My.God! Even shows!” Each admission becomes more passionate than the last. As she continues to rant to you. “I’m almost 30. I need to start thinking for myself, and my future. Like, now. I’ll find a man, and use him.”
You laugh at her crazy talk, you start putting fingers down as you list her current struggles, “You’re crashing in my guestroom.” One finger down. “Your BMW got repossessed because you stopped making payments.” Two fingers down. “You haven’t been able to hold a steady job.” Three fingers down. “And you don’t even help clean the house.” Four fingers down.
You wave them in front of her face to try and get your point across. “Look, I’m all for you finding a rich man in the future, and living off of him—that’s fine. But for now, at least help around the house when you can. I work lots of shifts at the clinic, the least you could do is help at home—”
“Especially since you don’t help me pay any bills.” She’s ready to protest, and cut you off. You make sure you get the last word in. “I don’t care because I get paid enough to cover this nice apartment in the middle of the city. Just, take some stress off my shoulders.” You smile kindly at her.
She lets out a huff of annoyance before turning back to her magazines, and ignoring you. A tired sigh escapes your lips. Her gloomy mood makes you feel pitiful, but thankfully you remember what Gojo said to you that night.
“Besides, how are you gonna get an NBA husband, if you…” You grab your phone, and tap on the screen before showing her the details for Gojo Satoru’s Saturday birthday party, “Don’t go to the gatherings?”
Her eyes grow wide with excitement, and she jumps up to hug you. “How did you do that?” She questions in disbelief, as she grabs your phone to see the tickets. “Well, I bumped into him in the street, and one thing led to another so he invited me.”
She squeals before hugging you again. “I need to figure out what I need to wear. No—I need to figure out what I need to buy to wear.” She runs to your guest room in excitement, muttering to herself as she begins to move further and further away from you. The door slammed shut as an indication that you’re now alone in the living room.
You choose to keep the details hidden of how exactly you met Gojo because of how personal they felt. It felt like something sacred that should be kept between Gojo and you. You didn’t want to let anyone inside your little bubble. As selfish as that sounded.
What happened earlier this morning felt so refreshing. You softly smile to yourself before walking to your room to rest your eyes before the party.
Your mom has always believed in destiny. That the universe worked in mysterious ways. She liked the idea that everything was meant to be. People were at a certain place, and time for a reason. Even if you lose something—whatever it may be— the first time, it’ll always come back someway, somehow.
You believe it now as she enters your old adolescent room before you, holding a box in her hands. You had decided to get ready at your parents house because of how convenient it would be, considering how Gojo’s house is closer to your parent’s house compared to yours.
“You are going to find a husband tonight.” Your mother laughs. You playfully roll your eyes at her admission. “Mom… don’t start.” You half-heartedly warn before she goes off her lovesick rant, placing the box on the table next to you.
“Honey, I married your father, and he still can’t believe his luck. I mean I understand, I am beautiful, and so is my gorgeous daughter—”
“—and niece!” Your cousin adds before going back to the mirror, touching up her eyelashes.
Your mother and you sweetly laugh before continuing, “I mean, when I first met him, it was like love at first sight.” You can’t help the frown that overtakes your features at her admission, a certain white-haired blue eyed man coming to mind.
“Anyway,” Your mother says before waving dismissively, “I have a surprise.” She smiles, before opening the box she had brought with her. You gasp as she pulls out the most gorgeous set of earrings you’ve ever laid eyes on. “Are those…?” You trail off in question.
“Your grandmother’s diamond earrings.” Your mother confirms before gazing softly at them. “She wore them the night she met your grandfather, and I wore them the night I met your father. And now I want you to wear them.” She tells you.
“They’re beautiful!” Your cousin compliments, quickly picking herself up from her seat and making her way over. “They are more than beautiful,” Your mother responds in agreement.
“I don’t think those will suit her Auntie, but they will suit me!” You glare at your cousin. Your mom smiles at your cousin before handing them to her. A look of betrayal paints your face. “Then I think you should wear them.”
Your heart drops at the admission, and before you could protest. The earrings are already on her before you could blink. “What do you think?” She asks you. Ugly. You think.
“I think I need a shot.” You mutter.
“Oh my god.” Your cousin says in amazement. “This is beautiful.”
You can’t help but silently agree with her. Gojo’s house was beyond gorgeous. The house was elegant, simplistic, yet lived in. It was decorated enough to uplift the house, rather than outshine it.
You walk through the main entrance, and see a lot of faces you’d usually see on TV, magazines, and billboard signs. Lots of Gojo’s teammates scatter among the crowd. They’re easy to spot considering their height.
The music is played to a low volume. The atmosphere emits one of class, tranquility yet fun, and livelihood. People chatter away, immersed in their own worlds, without a care in the world. You suppose that people who have the privilege to attend a Gojo gathering can afford to live without a care in the world.
As you enter the main living room, you hear a voice command the room. Perfecting timing.
“I’d like to make a special toast, for a special birthday boy.” Geto grins, lifting his drink to cheer, before grabbing Gojo by the neck and continuing with what you suspect is a birthday speech. As if on queue the people begin to gather around Geto and Gojo.
“I’m sure you’ve all heard this before,” Geto pauses before continuing, “that when some people become rich and famous they turn into pricks…” He looks back at Gojo, “But Satoru’s always been a rich and famous asshole, so it doesn’t apply to him.” He laughs before receiving a shove from Gojo as they share a hearty laugh together.
“Point is, he’s still the same guy from high school…minus the stickman legs, and high-pitched voice.” The crowd joins in on Geto’s laughter, “To my one and only best friend, happy birthday.” The crowd cheers, and a chorus of ‘Happy Birthday!' ring throughout the room. “Thank you Suguru.” You watch as Gojo and Geto prepare themselves to do a load of shots. As the music begins to pick up again, and the crowd disperses.
Your cousin taps your shoulder, and you look over at her, “I’m gonna go explore okay?”
“Oh! O–” You turn around to find her already gone, “--Kay.”
You find your way to the bar, as you sweetly greet the bartender. “Can I have a glass of champagne?”
You’re waiting patiently against the bar when you feel a tap on your shoulder, and a look of surprise crosses your features at the sight of Gojo’s beaming smile. “You made it.” He says happily, eyeing you with a dopey smile.
“Happy birthday!” You tell him, and his hand rests beside your waist against the bar, slightly caging you in. “I got you a card!” You say, reaching into your handbag for the Digimon themed birthday card, and a breathy chuckle leaves Gojo’s lips at the sight of it.
His eyes twinkle when he looks back up at you, “Aw, come on,” He says before continuing with a fake pout, “No surprise punch?”
You laugh at his lame teasing, but play along with him anyway. “Maybe next time, if you decide to run up behind me in the middle of the night, I’ll give you two.” His lips set on a teasing yet flirty smile, raising a questioning eyebrow, “Next time? With the way you look tonight, there will definitely be a next time—”
“Oh god!” A frantic voice interrupts you both, and you’re not surprised to find out the culprit is your cousin. Although you’re happy that she found you again, currently her presence is an unwelcome one. Her hand rests on your shoulder as she looks into your eyes. Your annoyance is quickly replaced with worry as it immediately overtakes your features. “There you are! I am so sorry, but I need to leave.” Your cousin says.
“What? Why? Is everything okay?” You ask, quickly scanning her for any physical injuries. “Everything is okay! It’s just that I got a call from the non-profit I was working with, and they need me to come in immediately.”
Non-profit? Working with?
“What? You don’t–”, She gives you a look that causes a realization to wash over you. She’s lying to make a good impression. With a roll of your eyes, you clear your throat to look back at Gojo but find that he is already fixated on something. Or more like someone.
Your cousin. The look on his face causes a sinking feeling to settle in your stomach. “Hey.” He says.
“Gojo, this is my cousin.” You tell him her name before continuing, “We grew up together.”
Your cousin barely glances at Gojo before realization dawns on her about who he is, and a flirty smile graces her features. “Oh, hi. Nice to meet you.” She says, before slipping back into a false indifference. Gojo’s eyes never leave her figure, but your cousin has a game to play, and it’s her favorite one. Unfortunately for Gojo, he’s playing right into it.
“One of the volunteers at the homeless shelter I help out at, just called in sick. So I need to go.” She begins to walk away, but Gojo stops her before she can. “You know, I volunteer too.”
“That’s cool," she says before turning to you and perking up again, “I have to stop by the store to buy some games for the kids, okay?” You couldn’t believe her. Her head tilted to one side while listening to him, a hidden sheen of interest coated her eyes.
You think you might have to kill yourself after this.
Gojo’s eyebrows raise once again in a curious manner, “You two…live together?”
“If by living together, you mean she free-loads, then yeah! We live together.” That earns you a gentle elbow in the stomach. “How can I get in touch with you?” He persists with an unrelenting stare.
“Oh…Gojo…It’s Gojo, right?” You feel your eyes roll involuntarily,” I’m sorry I’ve tried the whole ‘dating an athlete thing, and…it’s not my thing. But it was really nice talking to you.” She turns to you once again, and you swear you see a menacing glint in her eye. “Are you ready?”
To jump off a cliff? Absolutely.
Your cousin walks away, and anger overtakes your entire body. You turn to look at Gojo, and deflate at how his attention is solely on her, and the way she confidently walks away, catching the eyes of many men. Unaware of the attention you hinder as well.
You feel sick to your stomach. You should’ve asked the bartender for a round of shots.
Gojo’s friends watch as you walk away with interest in their eyes. “You know, the objective is not to make them leave.” Geto speaks up. Entranced by you.
But Gojo’s eyes stay focused elsewhere, before looking at Geto, “I think this worked out just great.” He trails off.
“What the hell was that back there?” You interrogate in a tight voice as soon as you shut the car door. “Oh. Come on.” The tone of her voice has you reeling back. You watch in disbelief as your cousin reapplies her lipstick through your car vanity mirror. She pops her lips before continuing, “Was he looking at me when I walked away?” Her eyes shine with a gleam of deviltry.
A scoff leaves your lips, and you look away from her. “Yes, he was.” Sadly. “You do realize, you don’t work—let alone volunteer—for a homeless shelter, right?”
“Obviously,” she counters, “But he seemed like the kind to fall for that kind of stuff. So I gave it to him, and it worked. I won’t even need to work a job anymore when I get to live in this big house.” Her hands gesture back to the direction of Gojo’s house before continuing to fix her makeup.
“You don’t even work a job now.” You emphasize with raised eyebrows, and a tilt in your head. “Besides, you rejected him.”
“Yeah,” your cousin responds in a ‘duh’ tone, “That’s probably the first time that’s ever happened since…forever. Trust me…” She trails off while fixing her hair, “I’ll be hearing from him.”
And she did.
The next morning you’re almost leaving your apartment for work when you hear a knock, and find a well dressed Gojo before your eyes. You raise a questioning eyebrow at the sight of his presence.
He eyes you for a little before clearing his throat. “Is your cousin here?” A hesitant tone overtakes his features, studying you for a reaction.
Your heart threatens to drop, but you clear your head before it can. “Yeah.” You respond somberly before continuing, “She’s in her room. I’ll go get her.” You turn around to fetch your cousin but pause mid-turn as a sudden question sweeps into your head. You turn to face him once again in clear confusion.
“How did you know I lived here?” You ask skeptically. Gojo grins confidently, a lazy smile gracing his features, “I know people.”
“That’s reassuring.” You drift away from him after curtly inviting him inside your home, and you watch as he studies your cozy apartment. Zero-ing in on the personal pictures of you you’ve hung up on your bookshelf. A faint hum comes out of him as he studies your pictures intently, memorizing them.
“Aren’t you nosy.” You quip at him teasingly. He turns to look at you with a playful expression. “Well, I find you interesting.”
“Well not interesting enough,” you say, muttering to yourself. “What was that?”
“Nothing.” You say walking away from him to get your cousin.
Everything took off from there. One dinner turned into two, then three, and then more than you could count on two hands. It’s like their love came easy for them, and you could tell by the countless tabloids covering their every move.
From Gojo’s ravenous yacht dates with your cousin, to endless shopping sprees. Everyday a new magazine feature was released to keep the public updated on their love story. But you didn’t need to read them to know how good they were to one another. You could tell by the way they’d gaze at each other, more on Gojo’s part.
She’d come home countless times, with something new to share. Whether it was a new expensive necklace Gojo had bought her, or he took her overseas on a spontaneous trip. You sat there and took it. You were helpless, and all you could do was blindly support her. Encourage their relationship.
And Gojo? He became unstoppable. It was impossible to believe how much better his life got—considering how great it already was. He was amazing on the court, and off the court (so you’ve heard). Your cousin got her wish granted. She could finally sit in the basketball wives section, sporting a new exclusive purse every game. She got the brand deals she always wanted, and a feature on a well known magazine. The paparazzi were so obsessed with them. Oftentimes photographing them on outings, whether it was an exclusive club, or a sweet night out together.
Headlines often portrayed their relationship as anything short of wonderful.
“PACKING IT IN: Gojo Satoru ushers his precious girlfriend into his Mercedes after spending an exhaustive day buying up boutique Manhattan.”
“LOOK OUT!: Gojo Satoru and girlfriend share a sweet kiss at a beach in Bora Bora.”
She got everything she ever wanted, and Gojo wasn’t an exception.
At first it felt like you were drowning. Like you couldn’t escape them, but then acceptance began to settle in.
You were aware of your brief interaction with Gojo. Though it felt like more than that, you realize maybe you’d jump the gun too fast. The way you both clicked that night, maybe you’d imagined his interest in you. Maybe you’d wish so badly for it that it twisted your reality of things. You’d wished to have swept him away the way your cousin did. It hurt to see the man you’d ever truly had a faint interest in slowly fall in love with your cousin. They were just so in love. At least, he thought he was.
But it didn’t matter anyway, it’s not like you knew the guy–beyond just a conversation that lasted hours. Vulnerability leaving you both bare to one another. Gojo wasn’t yours. And now he’ll never be.
You weren’t bitter. No. On the contrary, at first you were upset—granted—, but then you were happy for her. How could you be bitter? You had your own thing going on. It was going to take far more than this to hurt you. Besides, you could just avoid Gojo Satoru, right?
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#jjk#jjk fanfic#jjk imagines#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#gojo saturo#jjk gojo#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#jujutsu gojo#gojo smut#satoru#satoru gojo#gojo satoru x reader#gojo fluff#gojo x you#gojo imagine#basketball gojo x reader#bnpd tumblr#gojo satoru bnpd#fluff#angst#smut#jjk smut#long shot gojo fic
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Reckless (1)
Pairing: Lee Know x Reader
Genre: Brothers best friend
Warning: Language, a little violence etc, smut later on
Word Count: 3k
“Jisung!” You yell from your room, covering your ears with your pillow. If he didn't shut the fuck up, you were going to lose it. “Jisung!” You scream again. Angrily, you crawl out of your bed, stomping your way across the hallway to his room. You try to open the door but the door is locked. You pound on the door, anger flowing through you.
“Open the door!” You yell, pounding even harder. Finally the door swings open, your brother looking annoyed.
“The fuck do you want?” He asks, rubbing his face.
“I have an exam tomorrow. I can't sleep with the fucking music coming from your room.” You yell. “Shut the fuck up.”
“Wear some headphones then.” Jisung scoffs.
“I swear to fucking..” you pause, as Jisungs best friends comes to the door.
“Feeling feisty tonight, are we?” Minho chuckles, moving past your brother and out of his room.
“Yeah I am, watch out.” You snap, stomping back to your room, slamming the door behind you.
Your parents had been gone for months for work, and unfortunately for you Jisung had decided to slack off at school despite school only being in for 3 months. He was partying constantly and having his degenerate friends over at the house all the time. Lee Know, or Minho was the worst of them all and he never fucking left.
He was an arrogant, annoying, selfish, violent, short tempered man who you disliked the most out of all Jisung’s friends. The two of them were a few years older than you, both supposed to be in University but the way things were currently going, you didn't know how much longer either of them were going to be enrolled. You however were in your first year at the same University and you were not going to take your opportunity for granted. You wanted to get out of this town and move away onto bigger and better things.
As the volume of the music is finally lowered, you get comfortable in your bed, easily falling asleep, finally.
The next morning you're up early, deciding payback was much needed for keeping you up half the night. As you're hopping around your room, singing along to your loud music, getting ready for class, you faintly hear a pounding on your door. You laugh to yourself as you make your way, ripping the door open, seeing an annoyed Minho standing there, shirtless with a pair of sweats on.
“It's 7am.” He deadpans.
“And?” You ask.
“I've been sleeping for 2 hours.” He groans. “Turn it down.”
“That sounds like a you problem.” you begin. “Also, last I checked, this isn't your house.” You smile, closing the door in his face before he can say anything. You head to your stereo, turning the music down, for a few minutes until you felt like he was comfortable in bed again, starting to doze off and you turned it up again. Not long after you turned it off completely, heading to the kitchen to grab a banana before you headed to the bus stop. You wanted to get to school a little earlier than usual, taking time to go over your psychology notes for your exam, one last time.
“Y/N.” You hear from behind you in the library. You turn around, seeing your best friend, Hyunjin, standing there with bags under his eyes, holding a mass amount of papers, and looking extremely uneasy.
“Hyunjin.. what happened?” You ask, trying not to laugh at the poor man looking so defeated.
“it's literally the 3rd month of school, and I'm going to fucking flunk out.” He gasps, sitting next to you.
“No you're not.” You chuckle, flipping over your notes to look at the backside.
“I tried to study all night but I kept falling asleep. Why did I come here? I hate it.” He pouts. You shake your head at the man, focusing on your notes.
“Well.” You sigh. “At this rate, I'll be failing with you. Minho was at my house again last night. He and Jisung were blasting music until all hours.” You say, rolling your eyes.
“Minho was at your house?” Your other friend, Jisoo gasps, pulling up a chair beside you. “You're so lucky.”
“He's so fucking annoying.” You retort.
“But he's so hot.” Jisoo grins.
You ignored her last comment, you didn't want to vocally agree with her, because the last thing you needed was for your words to get back to him and inflate his head more than it already was.
“And to be honest, so is your brother. Is he single?” She asks.
“He's single. But I'm going to tell you not to go there because I don't want you to stop being my friend.” You laugh. “He's a terrible human being.”
“But he's hot.” Jisoo swoons, batting her eyes at you.
“Gross.” You sigh, looking at your phone. You gather your things off the table, dragging Hyunjin behind you to your psychology classroom.
“Please, Y/N.” He begs from behind you. You turn your head to look at him, giggling at the pitiful man who is usually so confident. This exam really has him fucked up. You turn your head again to look where you're going, and bump into someone, knocking your papers and bag to the floor.
“Ugh, I'm so sorry.” You sigh, bending down to pick up your things. You look up, seeing Minho glare down at you. You roll your eyes instantly, scoffing. “Actually I'm not sorry.” You say, finishing picking everything up. You stand up, Minho still staring at you but now smiling. Hyunjin comes up beside you, swinging his arm around your shoulders.
“Come on.” He says, pulling you away from Minho, who still hadn't said a word to you, but the smile never left his face.
“You got this.” You say to Hyunjin, your hands on his shoulders as you both take deep breaths outside your classroom door.
“So do you.” He breathes. “Drinks after?” He asks. You glance at your watch, 12:58pm. You should be done by 4pm..
“Abso-fucking-lutely.” You grin as the two of you make your way into the class.
3 hours later, you both emerge from the room, disheveled hair, sweat and tear stains present on both of you.
“How did..” Hyunjin starts. You put your hand up to stop him.
“Not yet. Shots..lots of shots.” You whimper. The two of you link arms, heading for the pub down the street from campus.
Hours later, you stumble home. As you stand in your yard you see lights flashing inside, and you can hear the bass thumping from the street. Jisung would throw a party on a random Thursday. That's just what he does. You quickly text Hyunjin and Jisoo to come over and party with you, both of them replying that they'll be there soon. You head inside, your brother spots you immediately.
“Y/N.. it's only just started. Don't shut me down.” He fake cries. You glare at him, seeing Minho walk up behind him. A few of his other friends were standing around, a lot of other people you didn't know also staring at you.
“Let's do some fucking shots!” You yell, making your way to the kitchen, hearing the cheers from the party goers. You walk past a chuckling Minho on your way to the kitchen. You glare at him before grabbing his sleeve, pulling him in there with you and a few others to take some shots. As you're about to do your second one, Hyunjin and Jisoo walk in. You were already drunk from your after exam drunks with Hyunjin, and now you were feeling it even more.
“Jinnie.” You squeal, putting your arms out for a hug. He grins as he wraps his arms around you, holding you tightly. Instantly you hear Jisoo’s flirty voice come to play, you break the hug to turn around and see Jisoo and Jisung tucked in a corner talking.
That made you want to vomit. You turn back towards the group taking shots, quickly pouring one for Hyunjin before you all take it. “Let's dance!” You yell, walking past Minho with Hyunjin in tow. You're dancing, laughing and just all around having a good time but you can't help but notice Minho standing against the wall with his arms crossed, eyes trained on you. They roamed up and down your body as he watched you dance, and you hated that the way he was looking at you, that the way he was biting his lip was turning you on so much.
“I'm gonna get a drink.” You tell Hyunjin, making your way to the kitchen. You feel a hand on your wrist, pulling you down the hallway instead.
“You looked really hot out there.” a guy tells you. You have no clue who this dude was, and frankly you were not interested.
“Thanks.” You respond, turning back towards the kitchen.
He grabs you again. “I wasn't done talking to you.” He half laughs.
You can feel the annoyance building up inside of you. “But I'm done.” You say, trying to walk away again. His grip tightens, pushing you against the wall.
“I'm trying to get to know you better.” He scoffs. “Don't be so rude.”
“I'm not interested.” You tell him, as if your current lack of interest wasn't enough.
He stares at you, refusing to move, not saying a word. You can see the wheels turning in his head as he tries to figure out what to say to you next. Before he can get his words out, he's shoved away from you, sliding down the floor of the hallway. Your mouth hangs open as you turn to look and see who your savior was.
Minho stands there, his eyes practically shooting daggers into the man.
“Are you fucking dumb, Changbin?” Minho asks.
“What the fuck, dude?” Changbin scoffs, scrambling up off the floor.
“That's Jisung's little sister you fucking moron.” Minho snaps, pointing at you.
“Oh shit.. I'm sorry! I didn't know!” He panics. Your eyes bounce between the two men, not sure why Changbin sounded so scared of your idiot brother.
“I'll let you off this time.” Minho starts. “If I catch you near her again, I will beat the fucking shit out of you.” He finishes. Changbin nods his head before running off into the crowd.
“You okay?” Minho asks as you rub your wrist. You nod your head.
“Yeah.. thanks.” You smile, returning to the party. The rest of the night, wherever you went, Minho was there, off in the distance watching you. You weren't uncomfortable from it but you did wish that he would go and enjoy himself. He didn't need to keep an eye on you, and as you got drunker, you decided to let him know.
“You.. keep staring.” You hiccup, placing your hand on the wall by his head. He smirks as he looks at you, barely able to stand up straight, eyes fluttering open and closed. You were a goddamn mess.
“Let's get you to bed, mhm?” He says, wrapping his arm around your waist to help you up the stairs. As you're walking up, you unfortunately see Jisung and Jisoo locking lips, making all the drinks you had all night threaten to come up.
“Get a room you sick fucks.” You slur, walking past them. Jisoo comes up for air looking embarrassed but only for a second before Jisung steals her attention back. Minho helps you to your room, you stand in the middle, your arms up high. He looks at you with a raised eyebrow, wondering what the fuck you were waiting for.
“I can't sleep in my clothes.” You whine. “but I'll fall if I undress myself.” You pout.
Minho reluctantly walks towards you, grabbing the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head, leaving you in a bra and your pants. He moves his hands down towards the button of your jeans. You hop back a little, almost losing your balance as you laugh, hysterically.
“Funny.” He fake chuckles, moving towards you again. You grab onto his arm, spinning yourself around to his back, sliding your hands up and down his body. You reach around to his stomach, moving your hands under his shirt, running them over his abs.
“Ugh.” You groan at the feeling.
He quickly turns around facing you once again, a smile spread across his face. You knew he wanted to be mad at you but he couldn't.
“Take your pants off or I'm gonna throw you down onto the bed and take them off for you.” He threatens. You blush, hard.
“Is that a threat or a promise?” You ask, cocking your head to the side. Minho reaches out for you, grabbing you by the waist of your jeans, pulling you towards him. “It's a little of both.” He tells you as he tries to undo your button. You were having too much fun in the moment, you didn't want it to end just yet. You grab his hands, pushing him away from you, laughing as he runs his hands through his hair. He has never seen this giggling playful side of you before, and he was enjoying the fuck out of it.
“Y/N.” He says sternly, his hands on his hips.
“Minho.” You say, putting your hands on your hips, pushing your hip out, pursing your lips. He's trying to remain serious but he can't. He starts laughing as he rubs his face, groaning in frustration.
“Take off your pants!” He yells.
“Yes sir!” You giggle as you take off your pants, leaving you in your bra and panties. Minho hands you a pair of pj shorts that he grabbed from your dresser. You semi quickly put them on before turning around, facing away from him to unhook your bra. It slides down your body, onto the floor. You smile to yourself.
“I bet you're upset, huh?” You giggle, turning your head to look at him.
“Why would I be upset?” He asks.
“Cause you can't see my boobies.” You laugh, turning slightly to show him a little side boob. “I think you'd like them.” You say, looking at him. His eyes are focused down, looking at what you're showing him. “Tsk tsk, naughty boy.” You scold, slipping your shirt on, turning around to face him.
He stares at you, and you stare back. You examine his face, his large veiny arms and hands, his roughly tousled hair.
“Jisoo was right.” You whisper.
“About?” He asks.
“You.” You hiccup. “She said you were hot.”
“And what did you say?” He asks.
“I didn't say. Cause I don't need my words going to your thick ass head.” You giggle.
“If they wouldn't go to my head, what would you say?” He asks.
“That you're really fucking hot. But you're a little violent and hot headed.” You sigh. “Buuut you're not allowed to know that so shhh.. cause Jisung said you're off limits.”
“Since when do you do what your brother tells you?” He laughs.
“I listen to him!” you say. No you didn't. “Actually, never.” You hiccup.
He doesn't reply. He stands there, staring at you. You can feel your breath hitch as he moves closer towards you, the palm of his hand gently laying on your cheek as his face moves closer to yours. You close your eyes, the world is spinning as you feel his lips press against yours. You feel like you're melting into the kiss as your lips move against his, his tongue slowly sliding into your mouth, deepening the kiss.
You could have sworn this was a dream, like his lips were perfectly made for your own. He slowly pulls away, turning to look at the door, and that's when you hear it.
“Minho!”
It's your brother's voice. “Lee fucking Know!” He yells.
“Go to sleep.” He says to you, turning and walking out of your room. You lay down in your bed, closing your eyes. The world only spins for a moment before you pass out.
**
“I'm never drinking again.” You gasp as you crawl out of your bed, desperately trying to make your way to the bathroom to get some water. Your throat was the driest it had ever been and you felt like you might actually die. Once you reach the sink, you shove your head underneath, drinking all the cold water you could get into your mouth. Fuck it tastes good. When you're finally satisfied, you drag your feet to change into some comfier clothes before heading downstairs. Luckily you didn't have class until the afternoon today, so you could try to recover this morning. You grab some food from the fridge, eating it cold, ignoring the passed out people scattered around your house.
“Morning.” You hear. You turn to look, seeing Minho walk into the kitchen, heading for the fridge.
“Morning.” You sigh.
“Hungover?” He asks you, grabbing some juice. You whimper as you nod your head. He laughs. You turn to glare at him, when suddenly you remembered. You think you remembered at least.
“Did..” you pause. “We.. um.. actually nevermind.” You say, turning away from him.
“Did we, what?” He asks, grinning.
“Kiss?” You whisper, looking around, making sure Jisung wasn't around.
“Me and you?” He asks, shocked. “Did you have a sex dream about me?” He gasps, placing his hand over his chest.
“What!? No! I just had a flash.. of something.. and we were kissing.” You try to explain.
“I feel so violated.” He fake cries. “I wasn't aware you thought of me like that.”
“Who's thinking of you like what?” You hear. Jisung walks into the kitchen, grabbing your food off the counter.
“Y/N.” Minho says. “I think she's into me.” He laughs.
“Yeah right.” Jisung chuckles. “Neither of you are dumb enough to do that.”
You look at Minho as he looks at you. Neither of you were dumb enough.. right?
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Split Decision
* ˚ ✦ MDNI ✦ ˚ *
*:・゚✧*:・゚ i woke up this morning w a slutty, feral, urgent need for some soukoku x fem!reader smut and this fic just kinda poured out of me (literally), 3.7k words. porn with a plot. (hope u like it nasty) you're an intern, ending your last day in Yokohama when you're approached at the hotel bar by two men who have one very pressing question for you: red or white wine? i was melting into an actual puddle writing this so lemme know whatcha think, luv u ♡ (and as alwaaayysss, thank u to the loml @bratbby333 for proofreading and being just as fucking pumped for this to come out as i was ♡) *:・゚✧*:・゚
You were tired, exhausted after a day filled with meetings that you barely contributed anything to. You were grateful for your internship, happy that it held the promise of a job right after graduation but being in Yokohama for the last two days had been a bit lackluster.
You sat at the bar of your hotel with lazy, muffled jazz music dancing around you as you fiddled with the straw in your empty cocktail glass.
The trip itself hadn't been all bad. The days were long, but you'd managed to make the most of your nights. The firm you were interning for was gracious enough to make it an all-expenses paid trip and you'd definitely taken full advantage of that over the last week.
You'd spent your nights in the most upscale restaurants the city had to offer, taking yourself on little dates to pass the time. You'd found yourself sitting alongside powerful businessmen and prominent executives that made you feel important even though you were still very much on the outskirts of their social circles. You had been a fly on the wall, quietly observing a world that you could only hope to one day be a part of.
It'd been a learning experience if nothing else. A secret glimpse into how rich men behaved when they thought no one was watching. There was something intoxicating about it all. Something that made you want to try harder when you got back home. You were determined to have this sort of life for yourself one day and you would.
That's what made being responsible tonight all the more important. Your flight back home was set to leave at 6 am. Your bags were already packed and waiting for you in your room. As tempting as it was to venture out into the city again, you needed to be well-rested and level-headed when you woke up tomorrow. So, you'd kept your promise to yourself and settled on slipping into your last clean black dress and grabbing a few drinks at the hotel bar to end your makeshift vacation.
Your legs dangled from your stool, the strap of your dress slipping down your arm as you yawned. The bar had been mostly vacant all night. People passing by, but never actually staying for more than one drink. The vintage grandfather clock at the corner of the room watched you tauntingly, another sway of its heavy arms indicating that it was nearing midnight.
You knew it was time to head back. Your hand reached out to bell for the bartender when two opposing, but equally powerful drinks were suddenly placed at either side of you.
A deep, rich red wine on your left and a deceptively alluring white wine on your right. Your eyes hesitantly drifted between the two men that were now occupying the seats next to you, the warmth of their bodies radiating off of them as they sized you up.
"Which one will it be, angel?" His voice was like velvet, a dangerous smirk creeping across his face as his brown eyes met you. His partially bandaged fingertips slowly pushed the Chardonnay towards you. "You look like a woman of good taste. Honestly, I think you'd like this one much better."
A gloved hand rested on the small of your back, gently turning you around to face him instead. His disheveled red hair and azure gaze were hard to ignore as he nudged the Cabernet closer to you. "Tch, you're too pretty for that cheap shit." He smirked. "Besides, I bet you're wantin' something that would hit way deeper than that, right?"
Your breath was suddenly lodged in your throat, an ache burning between your legs at the sheer shamelessness of it all.
The brunette's smile was piercing, his stare slicing into the man on your left as he let out a low laugh. "You've always had quite the imagination, haven't you Chuuya?" His eyes maintained the same sharpness, dragging back to yours with fervor. "I think what she really needs is something that would leave her begging for more and that's not something that measly little sweet red of yours would do."
The air between the three of you was suddenly suffocating.
You crossed one leg over the other, finding yourself actually having to clench while they carried on with their salaciously threatening banter. Their fingers roaming along your back and the top of your hand. Both inching closer and closer, still spilling out corrupt little nothings about which one would taste better going down your throat and which one would fill you up until there was no more room left.
You needed to be in bed. You needed to keep your wits about you. You needed to tell them both that you didn't have time for this, but your insides were on fire the harder they fought over you.
After being ignored at every meeting you'd gone to this week and being nothing more than a wallflower at the dinner parties you'd attended, having two admittedly depraved but attractive men competing over you like this was enough to make you forget about trivial things like time and responsibilities.
They were still going on. Still gently petting and praising you while their insults towards each other grew heavier and headier.
Your blood rushed through your veins as you looked down at the contrasting wines sitting in front of you. You knew the minute that you took a sip of either, your fate would be sealed for the night. You'd be declaring yourself to one of them. The only smart option you had would be to push both drinks aside, to choose yourself, and to leave the two of them to carry on with their degenerate rivalry with the next unsuspecting girl that waltzed in here.
But you weren't going to settle for either.
As you glanced between them, it dawned on you that there was an alternate, much more menacing 4th option at your disposal.
Their voices came to a pause when they noticed your hand finally raise, hovering directly in the center of the two glasses. Your eyes danced from the brunette back to Chuuya, a hazy smile pulling at the corner of your mouth despite the fact that your heart felt like it was capable of ripping straight through your chest at any given second.
You rested your palm over both, letting your middle finger slide into the Cabernet and your index finger slide into the Chardonnay in perfect unison.
The tension was palpable as they watched you slowly pull out and bring them to your lips. You cocked your head to the side, your tongue generously gliding against the mixture of red and white before you brought them all the way into your mouth, spit slightly dribbling down your chin while you looked between the two men.
A smile cut across your face as you noticed the two sets of blown out pupils staring back at you. "Does that answer your question?"
"No," Chuuya was the first to break the silence. "No fuckin' way am I letting that asshole anywhere near the same room as us."
But it only seemed to pique the brunette's interest more.
A grin that could rival that of the devil's began to pull at the corner of his mouth. "Oh c'mon, Chuuya. You're really gonna deny this angel what she wants?"
"Don't start with me, Dazai." he snarled, his eyes softening a bit when they reached yours. "Look, I'd love to fuck you, but -"
Dazai took full advantage of the redhead's decision to opt out, spinning your barstool towards him so that your back was abruptly facing Chuuya before he could even finish his sentence. "Well," he smirked with a dangerous sense of wit in his voice. "Guess that just leaves us then."
"Wait a minute, that's not how this works!" Your chair was once again being flung in the opposite direction. A gloved hand gently cupping yours as he tried to reason with you. "You're gorgeous, y'know that, right? Even if you end up leavin' by yourself, I promise it'd still be better than endin' up with that mackerel over there."
It should've been an insult. In fact, you were certain that it was an insult, but for some deranged reason, it made Dazai all the more persistent to get you what you had originally asked for.
"Okaaay, okaayy." He conceded as he stood up. "There's no need for petty nicknames. If you're too self-conscious to share a beautiful woman's body with me, that's all you have to say."
"Self-conscious?" The edge in Chuuya's tone only gave Dazai what he wanted. "I'm not self-conscious, you arrogant bastard. I just don't trust you."
Dazai leaned into your ear, his hand shielding his mouth though his voice was far from a whisper. "It's because of his height, I'm afraid. Quite sad really."
"Alright, cut the shit." It was enough to finally bring the redhead to his feet.
He stood up, grabbing your hand to help you off your chair, eyes now locked firmly with yours. "You really want us to fuck you?" He asked, completely ignoring the absolutely vile smirk Dazai was sporting.
A mix of fear and arousal pooled between your thighs as you realized that this was your one chance to back out.
You looked between the two of them one last time before promptly grabbing the drinks that were left on the counter and knocking them both back one right after the other.
"My room or yours?" You asked.
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The three of you had ended up in Chuuya's suite which was at least three times the size of your room. It was lofty, decorated with high-rise windows that were covered by thick, black privacy curtains. His king-sized bed made up in pristine white sheets that you feared would soon be ripped to shreds with the way the two of them could barely share the same elevator without almost killing each other, let alone share you.
Chuuya took off his gloves and hung his coat in the closest next to Dazai's as you slipped out of your heels and left them by the door. Your heart was suddenly in your throat now that you were actually here.
You were still by the entryway, not entirely sure how this was going to start while Chuuya went around and began dimming the lights, making a snide comment about how the less he had to see of Dazai, the better. The brunette just smirked, taking a seat on the edge of his bed, motioning for you to join him.
He spread his legs, lightly guiding you to stand in front of him as he kissed the back of your hand. His brown eyes trailed over you intently, his slender fingers tracing along the curve of your hip. "No need to be nervous," he whispered, tangling his free hand into yours.
There was something so tantalizing about the way he was looking at you. Eager but thorough, like he wanted to memorize every single inch of you. "See how pretty she is, Chuuya?"
You felt him approach you from behind, his calloused hands holding your hair into a makeshift ponytail while his breath fanned across the top of your shoulder. "Care if I unzip this?" he asked, his lips pressing softly against the side of your neck as you nodded. He continued to kiss and nip at you, carefully dragging the zipper down your spine before letting it fall to the floor.
"Fuck."
It was perhaps the one thing that they'd agreed on all night.
Dazai had the full-frontal view of you and Chuuya had the back. You were on full display for them both due to the fact that you'd opted for no bra or panties when you'd left your room earlier, thinking that you'd be coming straight back anyway. What a lie that had turned out to be.
Dazai's hand roamed along your stomach, goosebumps dancing across your skin as his fingertips dipped a bit lower. Chuuya's mouth was still on the nape of your neck, his grip tightening around your hips, drawing the poutiest little whimpers out of you.
"And to think you almost made us pass this up." Dazai taunted. "That would've been suuuch a shame."
"Shut up." Chuuya grunted, pulling you closer so that your ass was flushed perfectly against him. Your back arched feeling how hard he was, another little noise you couldn't quite control escaping you.
Dazai raised an eyebrow at this, realizing how easy it was to make you squirm.
"Oh, our girl's sensitive, isn't she?" He smirked, his fingers making their way to your center, just barely touching the outside of your folds. "Hmm," He hummed, surveying your desperate, dripping cunt. "What kind of sounds do you think she'll make if I do this?"
His finger ran along your clit, only giving you a moment to adjust to the sensation before he immediately plunged it inside of you.
"Nngh ~!" You whined, ramming yourself further into Chuuya's bulge. He held you steady, stuck somewhere between severely hating that Dazai had made you moan like that and fucking loving that you did it while grinding against him.
"Aw, look at that. I think she likes you, Chuuya." Dazai mocked, sliding into you again without warning, jealousy washing over him at how you were holding onto the redhead for support.
He went deeper, adding in another finger, to redirect your attention down to him as you mewled. "Feel good, angel?" he asked through heavy lashes.
You nodded back at him so pitifully, it made him groan, rubbing his thumb against your clit as his other two digits continued their assault on you.
You felt Chuuya undoing his belt behind you, his pants quietly dropping to the ground.
"You're doing so good," he praised into the softness of your neck, stroking himself with one hand and palming at your chest with the other. Squeezing a nipple between his fingers as you filled the room with more heavenly noises. "Think you can do me a favor, baby?" His voice felt like blissful static against the shell of your ear.
"M -" you struggled, your eyes nearly crossing at Dazai relentlessly hitting your g-spot. "Mhmmm." you finally managed.
"Can you bend over f'me?"
You tried your best to comply, but Dazai wasn't making it easy. In fact, he was making it impossible. Every time you tried to move, he'd go deeper, practically pulling you towards him from the inside with the curl of his long fingers.
Your vision was blurry, your body forgetting how to move altogether as the two men fought over you like you were a toy that they were willing to break in half as long as it meant the other person couldn't have it anymore.
"I -" you whined, noticing the absolutely feral smirk spread across Dazai's face. "I'm gonna - fuck, I can't -"
As much as Chuuya wanted to murder him for making you cum first, he knew his turn was next and he was going to fuck you into oblivion. "I've got you." he breathed, still playing with your nipple and holding you in place. "You're okay, baby. Let it out. Oh, just like that. Good fuckin' girl."
Dazai panted as you soaked his fingers, greedily trying to draw another one out of you before Chuuya intervened. "Alright, enough." he said, carefully pulling you away from him. "Here." he said, guiding you so that your ass was arched up for him and your face was on the mattress.
He was just about to put it in when Dazai stopped him, swiftly wriggling himself out of his pants before sitting on the edge of the bed again and placing your head above his dick.
Chuuya ran a frustrated hand over his face, the last fucking thing he wanted to see was your pretty mouth wrapped around Dazai while he was inside of you, but he knew he didn't have a choice.
"Be easy on her," he warned him.
You looked up at Dazai with glazed over eyes as he smiled down at you, proud of his work. "You know I wouldn't hurt you, right angel?"
Your pussy throbbed at the way he was able to make such a reassuring question feel so sinister.
His cock was long and thick and you were quickly realizing just how hard it was going to be to not choke on it. You started off slow, letting him tangle his hand into your hair as you lolled your tongue out and pressed it against him.
"Oh, fuck." Dazai groaned watching you make your way up to his tip, graciously opening your mouth wider to accommodate him.
Chuuya was wildly annoyed but not at all surprised at how vocal Dazai was. He blocked it out by rubbing his tip between your folds, reeling in the way your back arched for him as he softly massaged your abused little clit.
You were moaning, doing your best not to lose your concentration from how intoxicatingly tender Chuuya was handling you.
Whereas Dazai had practically bullied an orgasm out of you, Chuuya was prepared to play the long game. He'd fuck you slow and deep for hours if that's what you wanted. He was determined to make you feel so good you wouldn't be able to remember any other words besides his name.
Once he was satisfied with how wet both of you were from your cum, Chuuya lined himself up with your entrance. "You ready baby?"
"Y - yes." You struggled, Dazai only letting you come up for air for a second before your head was promptly pushed back down again.
You whimpered, completely forgetting what you were doing when Chuuya entered you. His cock stretching you out more than you knew you were capable of. "Oh - mygod." You choked out, eyes pleading as you looked back at Dazai.
Surprisingly, he wasn't jealous. Wasn't instantly shoving your head back down to get you to focus on him. He was in a euphoric daze seeing how fucked-out you looked. Your eyes were full-on watering, your pussy wrapped so tight and snug around Chuuya.
Dazai's grip in your hair lightened, pulling you up but only so he could watch you from a better angle. He held your head in one hand and began stroking himself with the other. "Oh, angel. You love being fucked like that, don't you?"
You nodded pathetically, completely overstimulated by the feeling of Chuuya pounding into you and the beautiful sight of Dazai jerking himself off to you getting railed. "Say it." He smirked. "Use your words."
Chuuya groaned, it was the first time all night that he wasn't tuning Dazai out. His hips thrusted into you harder as you whined. "I - love." Your eyebrows knitted together, your mouth dropping open at how deep Chuuya suddenly was. "I love - it." You cried out. "I love it so fu - cking much."
Chuuya wasn't sure if Dazai was trying to hurt or help him by coaxing such depraved things out of you, but he was lost in the sound of your moans.
Your legs began to shake, your cunt pulsating as Chuuya's tip knocked against your cervix. "I -" your head shook, you felt like you were going to pass out. "I can't - s'too much, I'm gonna -"
"Let me feel it, baby." It was almost more of a beg than a command. "Let me feel that pretty pussy soak my cock."
Dazai's breathing hitched in his throat watching the two of you. The tears that were spilling down your pretty face and the guttural noises you were forcing out of the redhead so effortlessly. The way neither one of you were coherent anymore, too lost in the way your bodies were aching for one another to know anything else.
Dazai wasn't sure why it was doing this to him. Wasn't sure why he couldn't stop himself, but just as you started to cum, he did too. He shoved your mouth back around him, reveling in the shock and pleasure and absolute awe on your face as you swallowed every last drop he shot into your mouth.
Your body felt like it was convulsing. The three of you had somehow all managed to reach your climax in perfect, lewd, synchronicity. Dazai's cum was pooling down your chin while Chuuya filled you up from behind. A combination of both of your fluids mixing together and then squirting out of you when he finally pulled out with a heavy, "Oh, FUCK."
You collapsed into Dazai's lap, your legs refusing to hold you. Chuuya helped pull you up onto the bed as the three of you fell into the mattress with a thud. You laid in the middle of them, your head rested peacefully against Dazai's chest as you tried to stop the room from spinning.
"And you told me to go easy on her." Dazai mused, running his fingers through your hair.
Chuuya rolled over on his side, wrapping his arm around your waist as he placed a kiss on the back of your neck. "'Least I didn't get off watching her get railed by another dude." he sneered.
"Yeah, you're right." Dazai tsked, "Only thing that could've made it better is if it was by a taller man."
"Dazai, I swear to god -"
But their bickering came to a quick end when you began to shift against them.
"Hey," you mumbled dreamily, causing both of them to immediately revert back to petting you and leaving light kisses along your skin. "Could you shut the fuck up? I've gotta be up at 5 tomorrow to catch my flight."
Chuuya smirked and set an alarm on his phone. Truthfully, he was willing to let you talk to him however you wanted with what you'd done to him tonight.
He reluctantly pulled the comforter up over the three of you. As much as he didn't want Dazai in his room for another minute, you looked too content to move.
You had never felt more safe or secure than you did being smushed between the two of them. Their words were hazy as you began to doze off, two sets of strong arms wrapped around you.
"Y'know, I think I'll kinda miss her." Chuuya breathed.
"Me too," Dazai smiled, looking down at you. "She's our girl."
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#i wrote this in a DAY someone pls take my laptop away#rem writes#soukoku#soukoku x reader#dazai smut#chuuya nakahara#chuuya smut#bsd smut#bsd x reader#dazai osamu#dazai x reader#bsd dazai#nakahara chuuya x reader#bsd chuuya#bsd
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Queen of the Night
A/N: I have always wanted to do something like this ever since I discovered Oda associates Law with this flower so here!!! Pairing: Law x reader CW: backstory spoilers if you squint its like super vague tho • masterlist • ko-fi • discord server •
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It happens so rarely that you sometimes forget what it feels like. Law is a man of barriers built so high that you’ve lost count of the layers. And yet, Law, the Queen of the Night, blooms ever so rarely for you, and his guard falls. It’s never when you expect it. It could be at moments when the moon is at its highest and you two are sitting in comfortable silence, or it could be when the sun kisses your skin as you explore an island with the crew. Small and elusive moments, so fragile that you almost fear that they aren’t real.
“Have I told you about my parents?” There it is. The blooming of the flower that only dares to show its beauty in the most scarce moments.
It’s the kind of sentence that hands in the air suspended in time. You blink and your breath catches in your throat because you know better than to ask questions when it comes to him. You know that if you prod or push too hard, he’ll retreat back into that shell he’s so used to hiding in.
So you wait.
Law’s eyes are fixed on some distant point off across the room, as though he is seeing the very manifestation of something that no longer exists.
“They were good people. Doctors. Believed in saving lives… even when the world told them it was pointless.”
There’s a bitterness in his words that you can feel deep in your chest. He’s not talking about the heroism of their profession- no, this is something darker, something heavy that sits on his shoulders and is weighing heavily on him.
You stay silent, giving him space. You watch as the flower opens slowly, petal by petal, revealing its delicate center only when it feels safe.
“They didn’t deserve what happened to them,” he continues, voice cracking in a way that you know he wouldn’t allow on any other occasion. It’s a sound that feels too raw, too real, for someone of his nature.
His hand twitches against his leg, the muscle tensing as if fighting back the urge to hold something that isn’t there anymore. You want to reach out and touch him, but something holds you back. Not fear, no, but respect. You understand that these moments are a gift, and you don't show him pity or try to interrupt him, you just let him open up on his own accord.
“And when they died- my parents… sister… everyone…” He swallows, throat tightening as he struggles to get the words out. “I fell into a very dark place. One that I am not sure I have completely gotten away from.”
His words are jagged, straight from the depths of his soul and you wonder just how long he’s carried all of this with him, letting it fester in his mind waiting to be told to those who are patient enough to wait for him to be ready to say such things.
“What happened during that darkness- the man who brought me out of it…” he pauses once more, taking a shaky breath. “He’s the reason why I am doing all of this. He’s why I am even here.”
You don’t dare ask for details of the savior he speaks of, knowing that he will tell you when he’s ready. Tonight might not be the night, but you have already accepted that you won’t be getting all the details, but rather just a few pieces of the puzzle of his past that you ought to put together over time.
The flower will soon close again by morning and Law will soon put back up those walls, locking himself away for the unforeseeable future. So you savor what little time you have watching him blossom. You feel a sense of honor knowing that he trusts you enough to let you see this side of him, even if it’s just for tonight.
And even when the flower of his heart begins to close, you know deep down that it will bloom again. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not for a long time. But it will. And when it does, you’ll be right there, waiting, just like you are tonight.
Because that’s what it means to love him. To be patient. To wait. And to cherish every moment that the Queen of the Night blooms for you.
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Those prompts are so good omg… what if smut 38 and 15 with az !?
Midnights
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *
Pairing(s): Azriel x reader
Warnings: smut, mdni, 18+, oral (fem recieving), mentions of weed and alcohol, pining if you squint
Summary: You absolutely cannot sleep, and of course you're out of all of your usual sleep-remedies. Who would be awake at this hour anyway to ask for help? You don't need to think long -- the answer comes through your phone at the moment you needed it.
SR’s Note: Thank you anon for the request and for your patience -- this uses prompts #15 and #38! Enjoy, xoxo
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *
Every night it was the same -- you'd always end up being scheduled late at the bar, which of course meant getting home at an ungodly hour, thus leaving you to finally lie down in bed in the very early hours of the morning.
You didn't complain; the cash folded neatly inside your bulging wallet kept you quiet about that, especially considering it was a Friday night and the customers at the bar were feeling rather generous tonight.
Although you made enough in tips on top of what you'd earned each hour, it almost made up for the job at hand. Sure, you'd spent your paid eight hours mixing and whisking away at drinks; but you'd also conversed, brought up the energy, and had to play off the frequent attention you'd recieved shift after shift.
There were only so many responses that you could come up with to "let me get your number, baby!" that were light-hearted and fun, but still dodgy enough that you didn't actually need to give it out. Can't hurt a male's ego too bad, if you piss someone off too much, it could cost you a job.
Overall, it was just exhausting.
Nonetheless -- you flipped back and forth between your sheets, desperately searching for sleep; a concept that seemed just out of reach as your eyes fluttered open for the hundredth time, no matter how many times you'd forced them shut.
Reaching toward your bedside table, you clicked the power button on your phone, the bright screen in your dark room causing you to squint at the intensity. 2:53 AM. Why couldn't you fall asleep?
Sighing, you place your phone in its original spot, flopping onto your back and running a hand over your face. You stare blankly at the ceiling, trying to decide what to do. You'd used the last of the sleepy tea that your best friend gave you -- Nesta swore by it -- and were out of weed, which always relaxed you enough that you may drift off easier.
Nesta was for sure asleep by now. She already chastized you for your plans to not attend training with her in the morning -- forgive you, that you'd choose to spend your Saturday morning sleeping in rather than watch her and her boyfriend pretend not to undress eachother with their eyes, thank you -- so, at this hour, she would be long asleep.
As you're racking your brain, your phone buzzes beside you. You reach for it once more, turning the brightness down to see the screen more clearly.
Wow. A message from the last person you'd expect tonight.
You up?
You read the text again, and again, looking up at the name and back at the gray text bubble to make sure you're seeing straight.
I am...
You stare at your phone screen blankly, waiting a few moments before three little dots pop up.
I can't sleep.
You probably should, you type back. Don't you have to be up early tomorrow?
Considering the sounds from down the hallway... I don't think anyone is going to be awake tomorrow morning for training.
You bite your bottom lip, chewing on the skin. So... Nesta definitely was awake. Awake, but... busy. You could just text her instead, ask her for some more of her tea. She would be able to get it to you, seeing as she isn't getting any shut-eye.
But, instead, you type back.
Want to come over?
✧・゚: *
You're rushing around your bathroom, brushing your hair and spraying yourself with perfume when you hear a light tapping on your window. It's then that you look up, meeting your own eyes in the mirror, and scowl. He's just an acquaintence, you think to yourself. Why stress so much over how you look?
Maybe, because he is handsome.
Come on, you mentally slap yourself. You've met him only a few times anyway. He probably won't even care that much.
But you care. You really care-
It is 3 AM, he will understand.
You continue your mental battle in your head as you nervously pad over to your window, drawing the curtains and pushing the glass up. The moonlight bends around his hulking form -- and you can see his dark, touseled hair shining in the pale light. He tucks his wings behind him, leaning so suddenly close to climb through.
"Hey," he utters. You back up as he squeezes through, grunting when his feet finally hit the floor. You stare at him, looking up and down unabashedly. He has ditched his usual leathers for gray sweats, a cotton black tank, and tennis shoes.
Holy shit-
"Are you just gonna stare at me or..."
Your cheeks heat, and you quickly glance anywhere but him.
"No! Uh, no, I... welcome, uh..." you search for words, and he chuckles.
"You just get off work?" He asks, making way through your room for your living room. You trail behind him, your brow only furrowing slightly that you're following him through your apartment.
"Yes...?" You say. He plops down, making to untie his shoes and get comfy on the cushions. You simply watch in amusement, finding it rather hard to tear your eyes away from his massive biceps-
"Do you always stare or am I just now realizing it?" He teases again, kicking his final shoe off as he adjusts his hips on the couch. His arm lazily drapes over the back of it, and you scoff.
"No," you say defensively. "I am just amused that this is the first time you're in my apartment, and you are acting as if you've been here a hundred times before." You shrug, making way for the fridge.
"You got anything to drink?" He asks, changing the subject immediately. You reach inside, crouching to look between the shelves for anything other than the usual.
"Do you want alcohol? Or just a regular drink?" You ask. Azriel chuckles again, and you poke your head out for just a moment to see him smiling lightly at you and shaking his head.
"Ahh," he sighs. "You're a funny girl, Y/N." You raise an eyebrow.
"Just a normal drink, please. Don't want to be too fucked up if I'm going to try and fly out of here later." He reasons. Your heart sinks just a tiny bit at that, wishing he'd stay.
Don't be delusional.
"Water it is." You pull too bottles from the shelf, tossing one to him. He catches it, uncapping and taking a few long drinks before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. You try not to stare again as you make your way to the couch beside him.
"So..." You say awkwardly, reaching for the remote to click on the TV. "What made you uh," you smile nervously. "What made you text me of all people in the middle of the night?"
Azriel shrugs, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "I mean, I told you about your friend and Cass. I hate when they wait so late to start with... you know... whatever they do," he avoids the word.
"Fucking?" You raise an eyebrow, and his eyes meet yours.
"Uh... yeah. That." He coughs, and you smirk, clicking through the suggested shows on Hulu.
"Still doesn't explain why you came here though. Don't you have like, a million friends? Or, a girlfriend or something? I thought you and-"
"Nahh, nah." He interjects, shaking his head. "Just the Inner Circle. Well, them and now you, I guess, since Nesta started bringin' you around."
Your heart swells, the mini-crush on this handsome male from training only growing with every minute he spends on your couch.
"I knew it'd be quieter here, I guess." He says in finality.
You pause, crossing your legs and turning to face him.
"And, how would you know that?"
"Know... what?" He asks.
"Know it would be quiet here?"
He looks side to side, playing with the silver band on his finger. "I don't know, I mean, why wouldn't it be?"
You frown. "Did you just assume I didn't have some else I was spending my time with?" His head tilts to the side in consideration.
"You know what I mean. Fucking?" A light rosy blush fans across his cheekbones, and he shakes his head.
"No, I uh, I didn't think you had anyone here. I know you didn't, actually, um, Cassian told me-"
"Told you what." You demand, inching closer and closer. The smell of mist and cedar infiltrates your senses, and you have to remind yourself to remain steadfast.
"He... he told me you weren't seeing anybody. Haven't been, for a while, actually." You pause, staring into his hazel eyes that search yours.
"Wait, what?" You say. His hand on the back of the couch slides to meet your bare arm, and you almost shudder at the contact. "W-why would he tell you that?" You ask.
Azriel leans closer, his pupils dilating with every inch he draws nearer. He's so close that you can count every light freckle on his nose, see every fracture of color in his irises -- so close, just an inch or two more and his inviting lips would be on yours.
"Because I asked him. About you." His hand on your shoulder slowly trails up, brushing across your shoulder and snaking down toward your hip. You only now realize the position you're in -- you're practically atop him, he casually leans back against the L-shaped couch, and you've all but crawled between his legs and sat in his lap at this point.
"Why ask..." you trail off, and his other hand moves to brush a fallen strand of hair from your forehead. He smiles softly up at you, his thumb brushing against the swell of your cheek.
"I had to know if I actually had a chance," he whispers, his fingers lightly holding your jaw and pulling you down to him. "Before I did this."
His lips were definitely inviting. Warm, and soft as they slid across yours, fitting perfectly against the skin of your own. He held you firmly, pulling you closer so that you were in fact straddling him as he deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping across your bottom lip. You allowed him in, your own dancing with his in a tango of passion as his fingers gripped your hip tighter. His other hand roamed downward, first, lightly gripping the column of your throat. You softly moaned into his mouth, and he smiled into the kiss.
His fingers kept travelling, down, down, over the curve of your breast, where he squeezed lightly before finding purchase on your other hipbone. You fingers tangled in his hair, softly skating through the strands as you continued to relish in the taste of him.
"Sweet thing," he pulls back, only slightly breathless as his half-lidded eyes meet yours. You gulp a few lungfuls of air in, and match his gaze, which is focused on your pelvis, unsubconciously moving in small circles atop his lap. He looks up at you again, chuckling before connecting your lips once more.
"You can't," he breaks the kiss for a breath. "...keep doing that..." He goes back in for more, his hands snaking behind you to grip your ass. You squeak, and he grins slyly at you. "...I can't fuck you on the first night, Y/N," he says, his gaze finding yours again. Oh, how good your name sounds coming from his lips...
"You'll see me for more than just one night?" You ask, and his eyes soften as he pulls you in for another quick peck.
"I'd like to see you every night, if you'd allow me." You giggle, and he smiles warmly up at you before pressing a trail of sweet kisses from the corner of your mouth, down your jawline in a descent over the column of your neck. He lightly bites on the junction between your neck and shoulder, eliciting another soft whine from you.
"Azriel..."
You can feel the pressure between your legs only growing, the thin material of his sweatpants the only barrier between your cotton shorts and his hardening length. He pulls back, his hands lifting you off of him for a moment as he slides down to lay flat on the couch.
"Az... what-"
"Sit on my face, baby." He asks, his fingers tugging on your hips as he adjusts his wings underneath him. Your eyes widen, and he pulls on the waistband of your shorts. "Please... I want to take care of you."
You stand, shucking off your tiny shorts and watch as he marvels at the thong you had on underneath. You peel if from you, discarding them before returning to position yourself right over his awaiting mouth.
"Mmm," he hums, his lips kissing the inside of your thighs softly as you tremble over him. You can feel your arousal leaking from your core, surely trailing down your inner thighs at this point, and you place your hands on the back of the couch as his deliciously rough hands grip your ass again.
"So fucking perfect Y/N..." he mumbles, licking a slow stripe between your folds that has you gasping. "So fucking wet, just for me."
His lips press into you, his tongue working to stimulate every last nerve ending you have down there as you grip the back of the couch, whining and panting pathetically above him. His hands search across your ass, gripping your hips, and holding your thighs wide for him when you try to close them around his head.
"Fuck, Azriel... eating me so good..." you cry out as his lips find your clit, sucking on it harshly without warning. You feel the liquid fire in your lower belly being set ablaze, growing hotter and hotter with each expert flick of his tongue against your dripping heat-
"Mhmm, you like it when I eat you out?" He mumbles, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips. You throw your head back, moaning loudly as his tongue dodges in and out of your core.
"Fuck! Please... oh Gods.. yes Az-" you pant, your hands braced behind you on his thighs as your eyes look down to meet his. Your met with a sinister stare as his mouth detaches from you one last time.
"Come for me, sweet girl," he commands. You cry out desperately, his tongue so deep inside you that his nose nudges your clit with each minstration. A few more swipes of his lips against your pussy, and you're coming undone.
"Azriel!" You groan, your lower half slightly shaking as your orgasm shoots through you. His hands hold you in place over him, his tongue licking up every last drop of you that spills out before kissing your inner thighs one more time.
He delicately lifts you off of him, laying you down on the cushions as he stands up beside the couch, leaning down to kiss you deeply. You can taste yourself on him, and he allows you to by kissing you longer, and longer...
"Sweet girl," he pulls back, his hand cupping your cheek lightly. You gaze up at him, all the adoration in the world as his chin glistens in the moonlight with your essence. "Tell me where I can find you a towel?"
Your heart melts, and you silently point to the bathroom. He makes his way over, coming back a few moments later with a warm rag to help clean you up. You move to take it from him, but he only shakes his head at you.
"I said I would take care of you," he offers. You stare at him, bewildered where your night has gone and what all has come out of it. Once you're clean, he simply picks you up in his arms, carrying you gently to your bed before resting you upon it and tucking the covers around you comfortably.
"Az," you reach for him when he moves to leave your bedside, and he turns to face you once more.
"Yes?" He asks. You grab his hand, pulling him close to you.
"Please, stay?"
He sighs, running a hand through his hair again. "You know I want to-"
"So stay," you cut in.
"We haven't even had a first date yet," You can practically see the war in his eyes, but reluctantly, he folds his wings in close and walks around to the other side of the bed and pulls the blankets back.
"I don't want you to think this is just for the night," he continues, nuzzling in close and pulling you flush against his chest. "I want things to be more than... just, something for one night, Y/N."
"I do too Az, really," you kiss his cheek, and he grins.
"And, I promise, I won't think its just for one night. I'll trust you," you say, and his fingers roam over your bare bottom, resting comfortably there as his heavy-lidded stare meets yours once more before you drift off in his warm embrace.
"As long as you come back tomorrow."
✧・゚: *
#a court of thorns and roses#acotar#acosf#a court of silver flames#acofas#acotar smut#a court of frost and starlight#azriel spymaster#azriel smut#azriel fanfic#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar#azriel#acowar#a court of mist and fury#a court of wings and ruin#acotar series#acotar fanfic#acotar fic#acotar fanfiction#azriel x reader#read more
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Somewhere With You
Part 4 of How Long
pairing: f!reader x brother-in-law!joel miller
FIND Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 HERE!!
description: sleeping with your exes brother is one thing, but envisioning a whole life with him? that's a dangerous game. but you did it. now you're here, and tommy is fucking pissed.
word count: 5.3k
warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, pre!outbreak joel, there is smut in this part!! fear of being caught by sarah?, unprotected p in v, oral sex (f receiving), joel is a CONSENT KING, dirty talk, overstimulation, titty fucking (yw caly), light violence, tommy is literally evil.
author's note: jesus christ i'm so glad I am finally here with this. I feel like finishing this is my greatest success in life lmao. I will probably continue this series but this is the last part for a while. I appreciate everyone's love on it and I can't wait to get more stuff out to y'all!
“Are we going to have a celebration when we get home?”
Joel laughs, “Yeah, we can. What did you wanna do?”
You just listen to Sarah list off all the possible ways to celebrate winning the tournament. The movies, going to the mall for new jeans, going to the local ice cream parlor every night of the week. Joel shakes his head at that one as he turns the truck onto the highway. You have your knees up to your chest, the zip up Joel let you borrow hanging off your shoulders. You had complained about how cold you were all weekend, so Joel shut you up by tossing you his zip up. You haven’t taken it off since.
The sun was setting over the horizon, drawing the Sunday to a close. You had to work in the morning and you were dreading concluding the weekend you spent with Joel and Sarah.
Everything with them seems natural. It felt like family.
You did not want to face tomorrow, especially when there was no set plans as to when you would be hanging out with them again.
Luckily, Sarah has not mentioned much of anything about what she saw early Saturday morning, so there was no awkward tension. The only time it came up was when you all were tired from Saturday’s events and you arrived back to the hotel room.
“You two sleeping together tonight, too?” She asked, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. She wasn’t even trying to be rude or demeaning, she just wanted to know if she could fall asleep in one of the beds without being stirred.
“Yeah, you can have that bed hun.” Joel answered.
Sitting on those horribly uncomfortable bleachers and cheering Sarah on had taken a lot out of you, so you were ready to throw yourself into the plush mattress, too.
You watched Sarah throw herself onto of the comforter, sinking into the pillows face first. It makes you giggle while you grab your pajamas to change.
Joel nudges you while you dig through your duffle, “No funny business tonight, ma’am.”
You shake your head, his comment making your stomach turn upside down with nerves. You smack his chest with the back of your hand, “No duh, asshole.”
Sarah puts her headphones on, drowning out Joel’s humming to an old country song. You just stare ahead, watching him speed pass car after car. His truck revs every time he does it which makes you clench your knees a bit tighter.
“In a rush, dear?”
The nickname makes his heart race.
He taps his fingers, trying to act like that nickname doesn’t drive him insane. “Want to make sure to get you home so you can be rested up for work in the morning.”
“That’s mighty sweet of you, but take your time. I’m in no rush.”
He eases off the gas a bit, taking your advice.
“You talk to your Mama lately? She still likin’ Maine?”
It wasn’t a question you were expecting coming from Joel. You had told him about your mom around the time that she moved away, however long ago that was. You truly didn’t expect him to even remember.
“We talk every week, she likes it there. Wants me to come experience a winter there, so I may go up for Christmas,” You explain, remembering back to conversation you two just had last week. She wanted you to feel what fluffy snow felt like and maybe go skiing with her.
It makes Joel’s heart sink a bit. Not because you would be visiting your mother, but instead you would not be here to spend Christmas with him and Sarah. He had already planned on making a spot for you at the dining table.
“That’d be nice,” He licks his lips, contemplating if he should say what he really wants to say, “‘M bettin’ she misses seein’ your beautiful face everyday.”
You smile, your cheeks burning hot at Joel calling you beautiful. You knew you had to throw him off and give him a sarcastic response to keep him on his toes.
“Gonna freeze my ass off there. May have to borrow some of your flannels.”
He chuckles, tilting his head towards you, “You already havta’ have about four of my t-shirts, now that hoodie. You wanna raid me some more?”
“If I’m remembering correctly, you said I just had to “get with you” to get clothes,” You’re whispering, leaning into him. You don’t want Sarah to hear the words you’re speaking to her father, “How many times do we need to go at it before I get one of those denim jackets you own?”
He peers over at you. You smirk, quirking one eyebrow up.
“You with me to get my clothes or somethin’?”
“That and other things,” You tease, pulling away, leaning your back against the seat again.
Joel peers into the rear view mirror. Sarah is asleep, her headphones blasting her favorite pop album. He tilts his head towards you, his eyes not leaving the road, “You’ll havta remind me of those other things when we get home.”
He could get used to always having you in his passenger seat.
-
Sarah was dead asleep in the backseat, so you both decided to get all the stuff from the back inside before nudging her awake. You quietly shut the door, grabbing Joel’s one bag from the driveway and slinging it over your shoulder.
You follow close behind him as he unlocks the front door and places Sarah’s stuff on the staircase.
The idea of having to leave made you want to scream. You didn’t feel like driving home and laying lonely in your own bed. You didn’t want to resume your boring life at work. You just wanted him.
This weekend made you realize that you really couldn’t live without him. You’re not only comfortable around him, but he’s exciting. He cracks jokes and compliments you when you don’t expect it. Those couple of months without him were still months he was plaguing your mind, even though he wasn’t physically around you.
You snap out of your thoughts quickly. You start watching Joel’s muscles restrict over his gray t-shirt and it’s enough to send you to your knees. You didn’t even realize how crazy he was driving you. His messy curls that were trapped under a hat most of the weekend are finally loose and curling up his neck. And the way his jeans hugged his ass while he walked away from you? You didn’t know how long to could refrain from telling him you needed him, right this second.
“I may call out tomorrow. Too tired to sit on my computer all day and run reports,” You say while he wonders back to you from his bedroom down the hall. You’re hoping it leads to an offer.
He nods, tossing his keys on the entry table next to you,“Yeah, I am off tomorrow. Have to get this house in order and make sure Sarah actually wakes up for school in the morning.”
No offer. Maybe you could propose it?
“Maybe I could just spend the night.”
The air is thick instantly with tension. You can hear the hitch in his throat. Once you say it, you realize how desperate you must sound. But you want to be able to lay next to him again. You want and need him.
“If that’s what you wanna do, sweetheart. I don’t mind none. Love havin’ you here.”
He grabs your waist lazily, pulling you into his chest. The connection sends chills down your arms.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to you to think I’m being needy.”
He doesn’t even hesitate, he just bows his head to capture your lips with his, giving you a slow sensual kiss. You move your hands up to his neck, pulling him down further into you, eager to be close to him.
When he realizes that’s where it’s going, he pulls up for air.
“Lemme go get the last couple bags and get Sarah inside.”
As he says that, the door flings open behind you. A sleepy Sarah blinks at both of you, shaking her head instantly when she sees her Dad’s arms wrapped around you. You push back, flinging yourself backwards and away from Joel.
“Can you lovebirds do that somewhere else,” She groans, while rubbing her eyes, “Don’t need another sibling created right in front of m-”
“Sarah Jane!”
-
You smile when Joel drops onto his mattress with a huff.
“So…” You drift off, crawling onto Joel’s lap, “You come here often?”
He chuckles, his hands beginning to trail your waist.
“Come here quite often, actually,” He jokes, his hands resting right under your shirt and on your hips. “How about you?”
You hum, “Not really. Maybe a couple times. Would love to come around, more though.”
“That so?”
You lean down, using your fingers to pull back his brown locks and pivot his head upward. You kiss him gingerly, smiling at his small groan.
You pull away, “I’d love to come to your bed every night, Joel Miller.”
The guttural moan he makes sends a rush to your core. He grabs the nape of your neck and brings you back down to his lips. He takes control of your movements, switching positions by gently laying you back. He leans over your body, his lips carrying the weight of his emotion. You’re scrambling though, tugging at his shirt, trying to rid it off his body. He pulls away to throw it off his body, motioning you to do the same. Soon, you two are completely naked.
“I never get sick of this view,” He rasps, his eyes raking your body.
You smirk, “Back atcha, babe.”
He positions himself on top of you, his lips lingering on your neck and collarbones.
Joel’s kisses are always intentional. It’s like he knows every pressure point on your body. His lips are always wet and supple, dragging across your soft skin.
When his mouth reaches the skin around your breast, you start to arch up for more contact. He grabs your stomach, pushing it softly down onto the bed.
“Patience, baby,” He mumbles, kissing the same area on the other breast. You jerk up again, absentmindedly.
“Can’t help it,” You whine, trying not to sound so desperate.
He clicks his tongue, “You can and you will.”
His lips wrap around your nipple and you just watch with hooded lids. His eyes are closed, so focus on teasing every inch of your body. You can feel the slick pool between your legs at the sight.
“Joel, please.”
He releases the pink nub, “What, baby? Use those words.”
“I want you all over, Joel.”
“Yeah? Where? Here?”
He grabs your breast roughly, making you mewl.
You finally gesture down. Your hand slides between your legs, dragging up and down your own slit. You gather as much slick as you can, bringing it up to Joel’s surprised expression.
“I see…” He brings your fingers up to his lips. You gape at his next actions, amazed that he’s so filthy. He takes your two fingers and licks them like a popsicle. You audible sigh as he sucks on your fingers like a man starved.
“You goin’ to be extra good for me?” He asks when your digits escape his mouth.
“Always am.”
Your voice is shaky when you say it. It makes Joel smirk. He loves when you sound ruined.
“Love hearing those words come out of your pretty little mouth.”
He crawls down your body, peppering kisses from your stomach down to your thighs. You watch him closely as he props your thighs over his shoulders. He does not waste time, diving straight into your divine center. You try to refrain from screaming his name, knowing Sarah may not be asleep yet. You clap your hand over your mouth while he licks your sensitive clit. He lays his tongue flat, pressing into you as he shakes his head back and forth. When he does that, you yelp into your palm.
“Mmm, baby girl wants to be loud so bad,” He chuckles darkly, using his fingers to spread your lips, “You wanna be loud for me huh?”
“Yes, please, God,” You pant, “Need you in me, Joel.”
“Yeah? Lets stretch you out a bit,” He doesn’t even give any warning when he sinks his fingers inside your pussy. “Gotta make sure you’re nice and ready, baby girl. Want you to cum before I stick this cock in ya.”
You swallow, letting him take the lead like usual. You liked it this way, when he ravishes you with his abilities and you get to cum several times. You never had sex like this in your life, especially consistently.
His fingers curl inside you, pumping in and out. You can hear how wet you are, the wetness sequelching against Joel’s fingers. Your pussy is graced with his tongue again while he fucks you with his digits. It’s like it’s pulled out of you. The orgasm sends white hot flashes to your vision. You know you’re saying something, but it’s no word in the English language.
When you come back down from euphoria, Joel’s ontop of you again. He’s kissing your cheeks, mumbling something about how beautiful you are when you cum.
“Joel, please,” Your hands grab onto his biceps, “Want you inside me.”
His cock drags along your navel, as he situates himself between your legs.
“Yeah? Always so eager,” He grabs his cock with his free hand, “Wanna try something a little different?”
Your stomach drops, “Like what?”
He toys with your nipple with his pointer and thumb, “Always wanted to fuck these.”
You smirk at the thought, your stomach finally at ease.
“You want to fuck my titties, Joel?”
“If you’ll let me,” He squeezes your boob gently, “Think these things are perfect. Want my cock right between them.”
You nod, “Fuck ‘em then, baby.”
He pulls you up, practically shoving you on the ground beside his bed. He wasn’t being aggressive, just guiding you to follow his lead. You sit on your knees, watching up at him as he pumps his cock over you. You use both hands to push your tits together. He grins as he touches the head of his cock to your hard nipples.
“So good for me,” He groans, slipping his cock between your cleavage, “Obeyin’ me and doin’ everythin’ I want. My fuckin’ dream girl.”
He starts to fuck your squeezed together tits as you stare up at him with a completely spent expression. You dribble some spit down between the break in your breast to lube up the area. Your pupils are blown and you feel the wetness of you slit soaking the skin of your legs. You can tell by the look on Joel’s face that he could cum at the sight of you.
But he stops and instead, grabs your bicep and tosses you back on the bed. You watch him crawl up between your legs, his face untamed and filled with anticipation.
“Need to cum in that pussy,” He pumps it a couple times before slipping in between your pussy lips, “Do you need me to put on a condom or anything? I don’t have to fuck you raw every time.”
You bite your lip, “I like feeling every part of you, Joel. I promise.”
“Mmm,” He hums, sinking his cock head inside you, “Love to hear that, baby.”
You circle your hips, practically fiening for him to sink all the way into you. He takes the hint, plunging into you with one snap. Once he’s finally sheathed in you, you groan out which only instigates him. He draws out and back in, his pace painstakingly slow. You grip onto his forearms, digging your nails into them. Maybe he will take the hint that you need it faster.
But, no.
“Words, darlin’. Tell me what you need.”
You choke out the words, “Faster. Harder.”
He kisses your lips, shushing you as his tempo picks up. He wants to feel the vibrations of your moans. He knows if you’re too loud there may be listening ears, so kissing you will hush the sounds of pleasure. He sits up and repositions, grabbing the back of both of your legs, practically folding you in half. You smirk in delight, watching his furrowed expression focus on your body’s reactions.
“This pussy is mine,” He huffs, watching himself plow into you, “All fuckin’ mine. Ya know that?”
“Yes,” You manage to peep out, “It’s yours, Joel.”
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” He spreads your legs, opening you up nice and wide. His thumb finds your responsive clit, circling it with the momentum of his hips, “Cum for me, baby. Soak this fuckin’ cock.”
Your body reacts in the way he finds so satisfying. Your hips lift up as the climax takes over, your whole body shaking at the ecstasy he brings you. He doesn’t let up, chasing his own bliss. You are so overstimulated, you are just gasping for air. He starts to falter, his pace slowing as he coats your insides with his cum.
You start to chuckle when his body practically collapses onto you. His sweaty curls stick to your perspiring cheek. You find yourself kissing his temple, practically thanking him for fucking you so good every time.
He stands up, his half-hard dick slipping out of you pain-stakingly slow. You whimper at the feeling, still a mess from your orgasm.
“God, you are perfect,” He mumbles, his hand slipping down your bare thigh, “Could fuck you every day for the rest of my life.”
You are still awestruck by the interaction, you don’t even know you’re saying it, “Why don’t you?”
He smiles while he helps you sit up, “I will. Now let’s get you all showered and ready for bed, huh?”
“Yes, please.”
-
Luckily for you, your body naturally wakes up at 5:30AM. You creep out of the bedroom, making sure not to stir Joel awake. You find the house phone and call your boss, letting her know you were “sick” and needed to use a sick day. She just mumbled a “whatever” and you hung up, heading back to the warmth of Joel’s bed.
Joel wakes up as soon as you crawl back into bed, but he knew he had to get up and make sure Sarah got ready and off to school, anway. He cuddles you for a bit, watching you nod back off to sleep. He let you sleep in while he cleaned up the house a bit. He tries his best not to much too much noise, not wanting to rattle you awake.
You did wake back up when you heard the vacuum. You pull yourself together, putting your hair up into a bun as you stumble out of the bedroom. Joel stands in the living room, not even aware you’re behind him. He jumps when he notices you in the threshold, turning off the vacuum.
“Mornin’ sleepin’ beauty,” He laughs as he wraps up the vacuum cord.
“Mornin’ handsome.”
You watch him roll the machine back into the hall closet before taking note to how nice and clean the house looked.
“Looks good in here,” You mumble, noting how every surface looks dusted, “It’s missing one thing. You have a vase?”
He silently nods, looking at you confused.
“Go fill it with water, I’ll be back.”
You walk towards the front door, swinging it open as you begin tip toeing to Joel’s side garden. He had started it with Sarah years ago, and for the most part, it was completely overgrown. Some flowers still bloom in the Texas sun, so you pick the prettiest from the dirt. Once you have a bundle, you practically jog inside to show Joel your bouquet.
“Hmm,” He smirks, “Didn’t think we needed flowers.”
“Well, you do.”
He shows you the vase on the coffee table, letting you take on the responsibility to make it pretty. He watches you carefully, your tired eyes trained on the task.
You were his dream girl, truly.
Once you’re satisfied with your arrangement, you make a grand gesture.
“Beautiful, baby,” He beams, wrapping his arms around your waist. He drops down onto the couch, pulling you into his lap.
“Who me or the flowers?” You joke.
“Both.”
You give him a lazy kiss, smirking into it.
This part of life with Joel is so domestic and perfect. You two could create this little world and live in it forever. He appreciated your silly antics, knowing how neglected this side of you must have been with Tommy. He didn’t care about the small gestures like Joel did.
It was so reassuring being with Joel. He praised you like you had never been before.
As you pull away from his lips, you hear a door slam outside. Before you could even react, the front door swings open into the house. You sit on Joel’s lap, turned away from the front door, completely dumbfounded.
“What is going on here?”
His voice scares you. You don’t even want to turn around in Joel’s lap to face him. Joel slowly helps you out of his lap, his eyes never leaving Tommy’s.
When you finally turn to face Tommy, his eyes are wild and bright red. He looks like he hasn’t showered in days, his longer hair greasy and standing in all sorts of directions. It’s not his appearance that scares you, it’s the energy he’s brought into Joel’s living room. It’s the same scary tension you experienced when he lashed out on you before.
Joel finally speaks up, clearing his throat. “What do you mean?”
But Tommy isn’t talking to Joel. He’s looking at you.
“Are you fuckin’ my brother?”
He’s pointing at you, his finger waving at you like an adult who’s scolding a child. You open your mouth, but you can’t say anything. Your throat is dry, the shock and terror taking ahold of your vocal chords.
“Tommy, we aren’t doing this.”
Joel puts himself in between Tommy and you, ensuring he doesn’t creep closer to you. You want to believe Tommy would never get physical with you, but the way he looks now, you’re not one hundred percent positive.
“That’s not what I fuckin’ asking, Joel. Are you two sleepin’ together?”
His voice is booming, bouncing off every corner of the room. It makes you shrink three sizes.
Joel places his head up, warning him silently not to get any closer, “Tommy-”
“Answer the fuckin’ question!”
You want to curl into a ball. You knew this would fucking happen. You knew he’d go insane.
You look at Joel finally. You realize your eyes were trained on Tommy in terror, unsure on how to console him. Joel licks his lips, rolling his eyes a bit. You just nod, trying to answer Tommy’s question without saying anything. You didn’t want him to realize how shaky your voice was.
Once he gets confirmation, all hell breaks loose. He’s pushing on Joel with his chest, screaming expletives at him. You stand in the corner of the living room, your body practically wedged between a lamp and the couch. You want to become one of the dustbunnies on the floor boards, not wanting to be apart of this situation.
“You’re a fuckin’ asshole! You fucked my girl-“
Before he can even finish the statement, Joel becomes a brick wall. He’s staring down at Tommy now, all the while snot is running down at his little brother’s face. He looked pathetic. As he nudges Joel’s chest, he hardly moves a milimeter. Joel doesn’t even hesitate when he says the next words.
“Not your girl.”
You truly cannot believe the words coming out of Joel’s mouth. You knew what he was insinuating and it brought chills up your back. Tommy’s movements completely halt and he stands there in a stunned silence. Joel’s jaw is slack, his eyes trained down at Tommy. It’s a stand-off.
Tommy crooks his head to the side, like he’s stretching it. “You want to pull that shit now, Joel? I knew you wanted my sloppy seconds the moment you told me she was at your house that night.”
Being referred as “sloppy seconds” makes your blood boil. It’s so dehumanizing.
“Stop talking about her like that,” Joel warns, his voice a whole octave lower.
“No,” Tommy growls, his gaze finally falling on you again, “You’re a whore. Just like your stupid sister.”
You swallow hard. It’s finally your moment to shine. The burst of adrenaline chorusing through your veins finally propels you forward, pushing Joel out of your way.
“You’re the town whore, Tommy Miller. You fucked your way around Austin and then came home to me every night,” You are shaking. Luckily, your voice isn’t wavering, “You lie. You cheat. You are a decietiful little shit. And I’m so glad you are because if you hadn’t slept with my sister and told me, I would have never realized how terrible you were to me all these years. I wasted so much time on babying you.”
The vein in his forehead is bulging and it makes you smile a bit.
“If I could go back in time, I would’ve saved my fucking tears and ran the other direction.”
He has the audacity to giggle, “Instead you ran right into Joel’s arms.”
You don’t hesitate, “You never gave a damn about me, he actually did. I should’ve taken the hint the moment he brought me flowers for my graduation, and you showed up with a flask.”
“You graduated college! Big fuckin’ deal! Get over yourself!”
Now you’re laughing.
“Bite me, Tommy,” You reach out and grab his t-shirt, pulling him into you. It makes Joel super nervous how close he is to you. He knows Tommy’s temper and how easily he will snap. He doesn’t know the next words about to come out of your mouth.
“You cheated on me, you fucking loser. I told you then we were done that night, did I not? What I did after that point is not your business. I’m not yours anymore. And your brother, he treats me real good. Way better than you ever did. He can actually last, unlike you,” You smack your lips together, “He can fuck me better than you, that’s for sure.”
Joel’s eyes widen at the words. Tommy looks completely dazed, but as soon as the last line leaves your mouth, he pushes you backward, right into Joel. You squeak at the contact, your brain registering that he actually put his hands on you. Joel quickly grabs you from tripping over him, and places you behind him quickly. Tommy reaches out for you, but Joel stops him meer inches from your face.
“Fuck you!”
Tommy tries to throw his hand at Joel’s head next but it’s quickly stopped by Joel’s forearm. Instead of Tommy continuing the fight with you two, he takes it out on the new flowers and vase you just put out on Joel’s coffee table. He uses all his force, grabbing the vase and launching it towards the wall. The glasses shatters, water splashes on the wall, and pieces of flowers litter the floor.
The action sends Joel pushing Tommy backward and against the wall. You want to yell out for them to stop, but all that comes out his Joel’s name.
When he pins Tommy to the wall, he finally turns to you.
“Don’t.”
It’s the only word you can say. You’re shaking, your eyes welling with tears. Joel knows you don’t want to see him demolish Tommy with his fists, so he thinks quick. He grabs Tommy’s collar, dragging him out the front door.
You follow far behind, not sure what Joel’s gameplan is.
Tommy is yelling, telling Joel to unhand him. Joel just tightens his grip.
“Coming into my house, talking to my girl like that. Fuckin’ disrespectful little shit.”
“Fuck you, Joel,” Tommy yells, his voice probably waking the neighbors. Joel launches Tommy’s body into the front yard, right near the flower bed. You watch from the doorway, wanting to keep your distance from the confrontation.
“Remember when you had temper tantrums when Momma told you no as a boy? Nothings changed. You’re an immature little brat.”
Joel reaches down into the flower bed, grabbing the hose. Tommy is still on the ground, scrambling to get up. Joel does something so unexpected, it makes you yelp. He starts soaking Tommy with the hose.
“Yeah, like the girl said before,” He aims towards Tommy’s face, “bite me.”
Tommy starts to spit up water, jumping up and away from the stream of water. Instead of tackling Joel like you anticipate, he just shakingly wipes his hair out of his eyes.
“You two are sick. Fuckin’ sick. And everyone will know about this.”
It makes your heart sink to your stomach. You don’t really care if anyone knows anymore. You knew this was going to be the worst part, but its the way he makes it sound like a threat.
“I bet they will, I just don’t give a damn.”
Joel sprays him while he stands up, making Tommy groan and yell out in annoyance. Joel just smiles, sickly.
Tommy storms off to his truck, dripping wet from the shower Joel just gave him on his front lawn. Joel tosses the hose back into the garden, satisfied with his work. You two stand there, watching Tommy do a burn out and speed off down the road. You breathe out loud, your hands finding your face. Joel glances between his neighbour’s houses, ensuring there is no one outside watching the events unfold. He did not care if they did watch, but he knew you would probably care.
He grabs ahold of your shoulders, guiding you back inside the house. Your eyes instantly fall on all the shattered glass and flowers as you walk inside. Joel ignores it and brings you into the kitchen.
Your mind is racing. You knew every word you said to Tommy was right deep down. But the girl you were, she wouldn’t have instigated his rage. She would’ve sat there and took every word he said to heart and believed them.
But the girl you are now, that girl is completely ruthless. You are petty. You are harsh. You are angry.
You kind of scared yourself.
“Joel-”
“No baby,” he mutters, “You better not say what I think you’re gonna say.”
“Joel, we can’t d-”
“We can. Because fuck Tommy. Fuck everyone,” He grabs your hips, letting his hands settle softly on your curves, “I want you. I want you so bad. I am not lettin’ you get away. Tommy can tell everyone in the fuckin’ world about us, and I won’t fuckin’ care. What he says doesn’t reflect you. You did nothin’ wrong. Okay?”
You swallow. You know he’s right, but you’re so scared of all this fallout. You don’t want it to scare you away from Joel, but it’s nervewracking to wait around and anticipate all of the chaos that will follow this incident. You did not want to tear apart a family. It’s the same feeling you had the morning after you first slept with Joel.
You’re scared to have him because of what it means for him. It means weird holidays and weird stares at grocery stores. It means you will be known as his brother’s ex girlfriend never just his girl.
You don’t realize it, but you’re staring past Joel. He tilts your head towards him, making your eyes connect.
“I love you, okay?”
His words make your heart flutter with relief. Maybe that’s what you needed. You needed him to finally say those words. Because those words were hanging in the back of your mind, simmering, waiting to be said.
“I love you, too, Joel.”
#joel miller smut#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller fic#pedro pascal#the last of us#joel miller the last of us#joel miller x reader smut#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x fem!reader#joel miller x you#tlou fanfiction#tlou fic#gracieheartspedro
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I Didn't Want This Either
l Luke Hughes l masterlist l part 1 l * warning: death *
"Can we talk?" Jack knocked on the window of Luke's car. He didn't like what he was going to ask Luke, but he needed to get the conversation over with.
"What's up?" Luke watched as Jack fiddled with the sleeve of his jacket.
Jack took a deep breath in, counted to five, before let out the inhaled air.
"I know this is never probably going to happen, but I just want to be prepared just in case. because you never know what could happen. and Addie agrees with me, for once, I know it's crazy.
"Jack spit it out."
"Now that I have two kids. I've been thinking more about what happens to them if something happens to us. And I think I want you to raise them if we can't." The older brother asked of the younger one.
"Jack, I don't know." Luke contemplated what he was being asked, which was really nothing, but he knew. "Isn't there anyone better for the job? Mom? Quinn?"
"No, Luke. Quinn and Liv have enough going on and Mom and Dad don't need to raising two little kids after the raised us." Jack explained. "Plus you're great with them and they love you so much. Please Lukey."
"Fine"
"Great! I'll add you to daycare pick up." Jack reached over to give his brother an awkward hug before they went on with their separate ways.
--
"You're pretty." Jack chanced a glanced over at his beautiful wife. They had just dropped the kids off at daycare and were on their way to the rock.
"You're not too bad yourself Mr. Hughes" Addie said scrunching her nose at the man next to her.
"I'll talk to Luke or Nico today, maybe one of them can take the kids and we can have tonight." He kept looking back and forth from the road to his wife.
"Jack watch the road please." She clenched her jaw. There was traffic all around them, making her feel a bit nervous.
"What Ads? It's fine." Jack's eyes left the road again to look at his wife.
"Jack!"
Jack never saw the car until it was too late.
--
"Shit. Shit. Shit." Luke jumped out of bed. He scrambled to get ready for practice when the brain fog cleared and he saw it was after 10 am already.
He was so late. His alarms must not have gone off or something, because he was never late for practice. And here he was going to be late for the first time in forever.
Luke chose to forgo his usual morning routine and caffeinated beverage, thinking it might give a chance to get to the practice facility faster.
He was almost there when the traffic started to picked up. There must have been an accident. All sorts of emergency vehicles were surrounding the area.
As Luke got closer to the heart of the situation he noticed a two crumpled up cars. A silver one and a very familiar looking green one.
Luke got a good long look at the wreck as he passed it. Two white sheets littered the ground, the car accident must have been that bad that people died.
That's why there was so much commotion.
He felt bad for the family that was going learn the news that they lost people they loved. Little did he know his phone was blowing up at the moment, messages and phone calls from his parents and brother, family members, teammates, and close friends with that specific news.
The now super late hockey player got to his destination only an hour later than he was supposed to be there. He thought it was a bit odd how the normally packed parking garage was near empty. Where was everyone?
"Luke what are you doing here?" Nico frowned at the defensemen who was trying to get ice ready as fast as he could.
"I know I'm late. I didn't set my alarm and then there was some big accident. I'll do extra of whatever you want. I'm sorry." Luke finishing up lacing his skates up. If he had been looking at Nico eye's went wide at the mention of the accident.
"Practice was cancelled a couple of hours ago."
"Why would they do that we have a game tomorrow?"
"The league is thinking of postponing it"
"Why?" he stopped what he was doing to look up at his captain. There was a feeling in the room, there was something seriously wrong.
Luke finally glanced around the empty locker room, it held the same odd feeling that the lot had.
"Um. Have you looked at your phone lately?" The older man scratched the back of his head nervously.
Luke furrowed his brows at the question. No, he hadn't looked at his phone, he had been a little busy trying to get there as quickly as he could, the action didn't feel necessary at the time.
But now a bad sinking feeling was telling him that maybe he should.
He had a total of 19 missed calls from him Mom, Dad, and Quinn alone. Not to mention the other various voicemails that completely filled the digital voicemail box was completely filled. On top of that there were over a hundred txt messages from a variety of people.
There was even a message from Jack, a simple heart emoji followed by an 'i luv ya bro,' that was timestamped hours before everything else.
"Nico, what's going on?" His voice hitched after he read a txt from Trevor that read 'i just heard about j. i'm so sorry.' When Luke looked up from the device he took note that Nico was now accompanied by their new coach and a few devils' personal.
"Luke you should call your parents back" The captain picked at the skin around his fingers.
"No just tell me. What's going on?" He thumbed through his device trying to decipher the
"Let's take this somewhere a little more private. Yeah?" The group of higher ups attempted to usher then to a different room a little more quiet and appropriate to have this conversation. Luke shook them off, wanting them to just spit it out.
"Say it Nico" Luke shook them off. He wanted Nico to just spit it out. He was tired of this go around and the hesitation
Nico sighed heavily. He didn't want to be the one to tell his friend the news, it would be better if it were coming from a family member, but they were all on there way to New Jersey at moment. So he had to do his best.
"There was an accident" Nico began to say. Luke felt his heart beat faster, and a pit forming in his stomach as he realized what Nico was telling him. Maybe this would have been better coming from his mom or dad, hell even Quinn.
"Jack and Addie were in the car-" Nico continued. That green car that look familiar. Jack had a green car.
"No no no no no no no." He covered his ears in an attempted to block out what Nico was telling him. This wasn't happening.
"they didn't make it." Nico finished. He put his hand on Luke's shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. The kind gesture didn't help anyeay as Luke grabbed the nearest garbage pail and emptied the contents of his stomach in it.
It was true. It couldn't be true. Jack wasn't dead. This was all just some sort of prank, a sick joke. Jack was going to walk around the corner and say sike.
He need to get out of there. Anywhere but there. He had this pain in chest, and it was hard to breath anytime he thought of his brother.
He got in his car and drove without a destination in mind. He drove and drove until he found himself in a deserted mall parking lot, not another car or person in sight.
Luke sat in his perfectly fine car and screamed. There wasn't anyone around, so no one would be able to judge him. Not that he cared. He needed to get his emotions out.
Why Jack? Why couldn't have been him? If only he had been on time today, maybe it would have been him in that accident and Jack would still be alive.
He had been receiving texts all day. Luke ignored all of them. A few people called, he ignored those too. Ellen had been calling him at least once every hour, but he still refused to talk to her.
There was one number that had been persistently calling him, even more than his mother had. Maybe she had gotten a hold of another phone and was calling from that. He didn't know, but he finally decided to answer the call.
"Hey Luke, this is Y/N calling this Happy Times Nursery, how are you?" The very peppy and friendly lady ask.
"I'm um, I could be better. What is this pertaining to?" He mumbled his reply confirming it was him.
"I'm sorry to hear that. Well we've been trying to reach Jack and Addie for a couple of hours now seeing that it is well past pick up time for Lucy and Felix. We were just wondering if someone was on their way to retrieve them. They are our last kids for the night and we would like to go home."
Shit, the kids
Let me know what you guys think!
#luke hughes#jack hughes#luke hughes imagine#jack hughes imagine#luke hughes fic#nhl imagine#nhl blurb#nhl fic#Luke Hughes x reader
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he meets you for lunch
Captain Price has been begging to get you alone, and when he finally does, he makes you get yourself off on his thick thigh.
MDNI/18+
Link to AO3
Price had been texting you all morning, and they were all salacious as hell…
Can’t stop thinking about how wet you are.
Gonna make you come all over my cock tonight, love.
Remember that butt plug we bought? You’re going to wake up tomorrow morning with it in one hole and me in the other.
Cock’s so hard for you, pretty girl.
Meet me for lunch. I need to feel that pussy.
You were trying to work, as a shipping manager for his unit no less, and even though you were a civilian, you were still under normal fraternization rules. But, Laswell turned a blind eye, which you were grateful for. However, you tried not to rub her leniency in her face.
Price had been on a tear recently. Ever since you’d stopped taking your birth control, he’d become more and more feral about his affections. You still weren’t trying for a baby, but you had medical issues and needed to work those out. So, it was condoms or, more typically, a belly or ass cheek covered in his come. You had to admit, though, he was turning you on with these messages. You’d worn a dress to work today, being allowed free-reign in your clothing choices, unlike your military colleagues.
You decided to take advantage of your easy-access attire, messaging him back:
Lunch at noon?
He replied almost instantly,
I’m omw
You exhaled a shaky breath through your lips, the excitement of his lustful attention had you hot and bothered. You waited by your phone for him to call.
It wasn’t long until he did. His bearded face popped up on your lock screen as you were walking out of the back door,
“I’m waiting for you, baby. Fucking ready for you.”
“Oh, my God, John. You’re going to get us fired,” you whispered into the mouthpiece.
“Don’t care. Need ya. Need ya right fuckin’ now.”
As he was saying the words, you were watching him say them through his windshield. He was staring right at you, his icy blues piercing through the gap between you, pulling you in like a hypnotist, a snake charmer, a predator stalking his prey.
You opened the heavy door to the truck and heaved yourself up, needing to climb up the step in order to get into the cab. He turned the wheel and sped out of the lot, driving to a nearby park. You’d been there before, but never for sex. Usually, it was just a quiet spot to talk, or to kiss each other without fear of reprimand. But, his aggressive driving was making his intentions quite clear. He slammed the truck into park and reached across the middle console, pulling you over it roughly. It was almost too rough, and you were shocked at his intensity.
“John! Hey,” you caught yourself in his arms, “Baby, slow down.”
He grabbed your arms and shook you once, gently, to get your attention, locking your eyes to his,
“I am on fire. You set me on fire, love. And I need you to put it out.”
“Okay,” you pet his cock through his canvas pants, “I’m here, baby. I’m right here.”
He groaned, desperate for your relief. You repositioned your leg on the other side of his thick, muscular thigh, straddling him as you unzipped his pants. He looked at you with suspicion and more of that animalistic aggression,
“Your cunt feels warm on my leg. Put it on me,” you did, “Yes, just like that.”
You rubbed yourself on his thigh, trying to only do it once or twice, not wanting to stain his pant leg.
“Don’t stop,” Price moaned again, shoving your hips back down onto his thigh, “Ride me like that while you tug on my cock.”
“I’ll get…” you had to take a breath. The pleasure of feeling your lips being crushed against his hard muscle was coursing through you, making you lose your bearings, “I’ll get you wet. Mess up your pants…”
“Good. Fuckin’ do it. I wanna feel how wet you are. Play with that dick, baby. Touch me, please.”
You didn’t know how to say no to him. As you rode his leg, you chased your orgasm, and it came easily to you. You used both hands to massage his cock, using your wrists to twist and curl around him, leaning forward near enough to smell the familiar scent of expensive tobacco on his breath. Each time you canted your hips forward and back, you felt your pussy flex and slide across the cotton of your panties and the thick, rugged canvas fabric, spreading your lips apart and exposing your clit. You kept up a feverish pace, half of you striving towards his completion while the other half of you chased down your pleasure like a bandit.
Eventually, like a sharpened knife, the sensations became too keen. You faltered, losing your pattern of back and forth motions; the wet humping you were doing had made you come, and you needed him to help you. You looked at him with pleading eyes, and he moaned with you, grabbing your hips and forcing you down, pressed tighter than you’d ever been, making you fuck his quad roughly, leaving no room for sensitivity.
As he was helping you, moving your body on top of his, he started to come. You shielded it from shooting from the tip with your palm, rubbing it into his swollen head, making him clench his teeth from the overwhelming feeling you created. He kept pushing and pulling you, back and forth until you were nearly crying from the onslaught.
You sat up, and you swung your leg back over the console to survey the damage. There was a huge diamond-shaped stain where you’d ridden him, and he was obsessed with it. He traced it with his finger, rubbing across it, putting his palm over it and pressing it into his skin through the canvas.
“So wet for me,” he smiled up at you, “Call in sick.”
“John, no,” you scolded him, “we can’t just take off work whenever you want to fuck me.”
“Either you call in, or I’ll do it for you. But,” his expression darkened, “Let me be bloody fucking clear. I am going to fuck you today. Right now. One way or another.”
You moaned, smiling, getting excited about his plans,
“Let me get my phone.”
#captain john price#captain price#john price#cod mw2#cod mwii#call of duty fanfic#captain price x reader#captain price x you#cod
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Fandom: Criminal minds Character: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader
Author's note: English isn't my first language, i apologize for any mistakes. This is set after 10x21 ending.
Summary: Hotch finds a way to deal with what Mr.Scratch and Y/N is happy to help and comforts him.
Warnings: 🔞‼️estabilished relationship, smut, rough sex, vaginal sex, consensual sex, voice kink, praise kink, orgasm control, spanking, vaginal fingering, non consensual drug use, mind control, hurt/confort, blood and violence, character death
Words count: 5,466k Hope you like it and let me know what you think! Enjoy it!
What do you want?
What do you want?
Hotch was sitting in the ambulance with Dave near him. He was trying to get him to talk to know what had happened in that house before they arrived, but every attempt was wasted. Hotch seemed to be on another planet. Y/N walked away from Morgan and JJ and headed to the ambulance. When Rossi saw Y/N, he went up to her, leaving Hotch alone.
“He didn’t say anything. Maybe you’ll get luckier.”
“I’ll bring him home and talk to him” he nodded and kissed Y/N goodbye on her forehead before leaving her behind and joining the rest of the team. She walked to Hotch and offered him her hand.
“Let’s go home,” she said softly. He looked up to her for a moment with his eyes full of pain and sadness but didn’t say anything. He just took her hand tightly than she expected and got up, ready for her to bring him home.
The car ride was silent. It was like Hotch wasn’t even there, Y/N occasionally looked toward him just to make sure he was okay. She was sick worried and didn’t know what to do to help him.
“Jack is staying with Jessica tonight. I thought it was for the best” she informed him but only received a mumbled okay. She kept driving until they arrived at his building. Parked the car and went straight to his apartment.
Once inside, Y/N went to prepare something to eat for both of them while Hotch crushed on the couch still fully dressed. Neither of them was hungry but they hadn’t eaten anything since that morning. When she was done, she put a plate in front of him with some leftovers and scrambled eggs but he refused to eat.
“Hotch, babe, you need to eat something. At least try, please” he remained silent once again.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” she asked caressing his cheek but only got a no as an answer. An hour passed and he still hadn’t touched his food. Standing, leaning against the wall that separated the living room from the dining room, Y/N was watching Hotch laying on the couch with his eyes fixed on the ceiling. She wanted to help him but all he was doing was shutting her out.
“You don’t wanna talk. You don’t wanna eat. What do you wanna do, Aaron?”
After a moment he sat on the couch and looked at her with a smirk.
“I wanna fuck you until tomorrow morning. You won’t be able to walk later.” He said serious, and kept looking into her eyes.
“I’m serious Hotch” At that he stood up from the couch and walked slowly towards her, not leaving her look.
“So am I,” he said with a low voice. He stopped a few steps away from her and he stretched out his arms against the wall. Y/N was trapped between his body and the wall, and his arms prevented her from leaving.
He bent his head forward, resting his lips on hers, but she coolly returned the kiss. His stubbornness was driving her crazy and she didn’t wanna give up that easily but, slowly, pleasure began to take place in her body. Hotch kept softly kissing her down her neck.
“I wanna hear you moan my name, Y/N” his low voice was making her wetter than she would’ve liked to admit. She was holding back her moaning whenever he kissed her and his look full of lust was begging her to give up. “I wanna make you cum so many times. You’ll beg me to stop.”
He kissed her one more time down her neck and then caressed her cheek gently. She wanted him right there and he knew it. He bent near her ear, while one of his hands found place on her hip.
“Don’t resist me, baby.”
A shiver of pleasure ran down her spine. She took his head in her hands, paying attention to the wound on his cheekbone, and kissed him intensely for several moments. He squeezed her against his body grabbing her by the hips and she felt his erection pressing against her. She jumped on him, wrapping her legs around his waist without breaking the kiss. He moaned in the kiss while holding her under her cheekbutts.
"Fuck, I love you so much,” Hotch said against her lips as he carried her to the bedroom.
“Then show me” she replied provoking him. He hurried to the room, slamming the door behind him with his foot and slamming Y/N against it while still holding her. While her hands were in his hair, he kissed her roughly on her neck. She moaned softly and every time she did that, she felt his hardening cock under her.
Hotch pulled her away from the door and laid her on the bed, covering her body with his. His look was full of lust and craving, his eyes dark and intense. She was almost afraid of it, yet excitement kept growing for them both.
A hand slipped under her sweater, and her body recoiled at his cold touch. He slipped off her sweater and threw it away, revealing her naked chest. She started to unblock his belt while he was kissing her leaving hickeys all over her chest and neck. She then started working on his shirt, which she slipped off and dropped to the ground. He unbuttoned her jeans and slowly slipped them down her legs, not letting her gaze go.
“You’re perfect” he whispered to himself. She was enjoying the view of him standing at the end of the bed, in all his beauty, and unintentionally she began biting her lower lip. He also removed her panties before settling between her legs. He was covering her body with his once again and bent on her leaving wet kisses on her neck. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her hands started traveling along his strong back.
“You’ll do everything I say, including when cumming” he whispered in her ear while one of his hands slipped between their body reaching her center.
“And what if I don’t listen?” Y/N answered back with a provoking smile. Hotch roughly pushed two fingers inside her, as deep as he could taking her by surprise. He started to move them in circle making her gasp while enjoying the look of pure pleasure on her face.
“You don’t wanna find out” he began to move faster, going deeper and deeper. He was enjoying himself watching her orgasm starting to build but didn’t wanna give her one so soon, he slowed down making her groan.
“You still have your pants on,” she said between moans.
“Don’t worry about it” he kissed her roughly on the lips before pulling out his fingers and tasting her. “I wanna please you before I destroy you.”
He pushed back his finger inside and began to move faster, building her orgasm. She moaned loudly and soon his other hand was on her mouth to stop her from being loud. She was so close to cum and he was torturing her.
“Please Hotch” she lamented.
“Please what? I didn’t say yet you can cum.” he kept going faster, back and forth. He was building her orgasms once again and she was desperate. She needed the release. He knew she was close; he was feeling it how she was clenching around him.
“Hold still.” She did what she was told but was failing, he decided to give in. “Cum for me, babe.”
She moaned out loud as a wave of pleasure was leaving her. She arched her back with Hotch’s fingers still inside her but he didn’t stop and started to move his finger again riding her orgasm. In mere seconds, she was close again.
“One more time, Y/N” he ordered in a low voice. That damn voice. She felt weak every time he used it. She came hard and loud for the second time that evening. Y/N felt like her body was leaving her and her mind went black. She loved how he made her feel, she loved even more how he made her cum.
When she calmed down, he pulled his fingers out and kissed her forehead softly. He got up from the bed and disappeared into the bathroom for a few seconds coming back with Y/N bathrobe’s belt. He took off his boxers and climbed on the bed pulling apart her legs so he could stand in between.
“Now, I wanna fuck you. And you won’t be able to touch me.”
That bastard. He knew she loved touching him, feeling his muscles tensing under her hands. He tied her wrists, not tight to hurt but tight enough to block her, and pinned them over her head with one hand. With his free hand, he slid his cock inside her, deep. They both groaned at the feeling.
Giving her very little time to adjust to his size, he started moving fast and deep for a severe measure of time. Holding her tight by her wrists, he bent over her groaning in her ears knowing she loved it. She was getting wetter and wetter and felt her orgasm building in her stomach. She was clenching around him which gave him a lot of pleasure, and he let her know by groaning louder.
“Aaron, please” she moaned “I-I’m close.”
He stopped and put a hand around her throat, without tightening.
“You’re not gonna cum yet.”
He pulled himself up and started fucking her again, going harder and deeper every time. With a devilish smile on his face, he was looking down at his lover being overwhelmed by pleasure and completely at his mercy. He loved her so much, he loved how she was letting him use her in that moment.
She was a strong and independent woman and never in a million years she would bend over a man's wants. But when it came to him, that was a different story. She loved to be dominated by him in bed and he loved doing it.
“My God, Aaron. P-please let me cum” she tried to say between moanings. With each thrust, she felt losing control over her body. He grabbed her hips tightly and moved faster, ready to give her all the pleasure. Giving her a nod, that was all the permission she needed to cum.
“Oh, fuck” she cried out loud, almost losing her voice. Hotch slowed down but didn’t stop until she calmed down once again. He bent to kiss her gently on her soft lips as to remind her, her Aaron was still there.
The belt around her wrist had tightened too much due to her squirming so he quickly untied her and started caressing her wrist. She noticed the worry on his face and grabbed his head between her hands pulling him down, over her body, and kissed him again.
“I’m fine, honey” Y/N reassured him with a soft voice looking into his beautiful hazel eyes.
“You sure?” she nodded and received a quick kiss from him “Good. Because I’m not done”
He stood from the bed and helped Y/N do the same. Without giving her time to say anything, he quickly bent her over the bed pulling her legs apart. Standing behind her, he pulled her hips onto him and entered hard and deep inside her.
“You’ll be a good girl and not cum until I said so. Understood?” he asked her and when she didn't answer right away, he slapped her ass hard enough to make her gasp "Understood?"
“Yes, yes I understood” she replied in excitement and a little pain. She was sure she had his handprint on her butt but couldn’t care less.
“Good girl” she could imagine the grin he had on his face. He started pounding her again from behind, holding her hips tight. He was groaning in pleasure not afraid of being loud for her to hear it. She loved hearing him moaning, it was so erotic and greeting to know he was comfortable enough to not hold back.
The room was filled with their skin slapping against each other and their loud moaning. She was holding tight on the sheets to try to control her body and wait for him to give her the permission to cum. She was close, so damn close.
“Don’t. Cum.”
“P-please, Hotch” Y/N begged whispering, not being able to control her body anymore. He stopped abruptly, taking a breath, and giving her time to cool down. He bent over Y/N and started kissing her spine, from the lower back up to the back of her neck.
She shivered at the feeling, he was kissing her like she was the most precious thing made of glass. Hotch loved being rough with her but being able to connect just by simple touches, soft kisses, and small talking was something he would always love more.
“Cum with me” he whispered softly in her ear and she nodded. He stood one more time and interlocked their fingers taking her hands behind her back. He moved faster back and forth, never leaving her hands. Every thrust was perfectly placed, knowing full well what the effects on her body were.
She was craving the orgasm and Hotch couldn't take it anymore. She was clenching around him and he was fighting to gain some control. Seconds later she came hard followed by him.
“Oh God!” they groaned in unison. He released her hands and kissed her shoulder, gently caressing her side with his fingertips.
“Wait here” he whispered and gave her one last peck on her back before pulling out slowly, she gasped at the loss of contact but didn’t move. He quickly disappeared into the bathroom and soon she heard the water running.
“Let’s take a quick shower” he suggested reentering the room. Helping her get up, Hotch saw she was walking funny and smiled to himself.
“Don’t laugh. Aaron”
“I wouldn’t dare it” She walked past him with a death stare and headed to the bathroom while he was enjoying seeing the effects of the previous performance on her. Hotch suppressed a laugh and followed her.
They entered together in the shower with the water running on their body. No sexual touch was shared just soft petting, tender kisses, and so much love and admiration. He gently caressed the handprint he left on her ass while kissing her soft lips. Her hands were running throw his hair pulling him closer.
“Hope I didn’t hurt you.”
“No. I liked it” She smiled and his lips were on her once again.
They finished showering and went back to the bedroom where they put some clothes on. He was only in boxers and she was wearing one of his t-shirts and her panties. They climbed under the cover, with Y/N on his right side, tangled to each other.
With her head on his chest, Y/N could feel his strong heartbeat. It had always calmed her on the bad days, whenever she felt down, he was ready to comfort her and hugged her tight on his chest. It became a habit to fall asleep listening to his heartbeat and he was happy that it worked.
Before going to sleep, Y/N needed to make sure he was okay. She knew he wouldn’t want to talk but she hoped that after the amazing sex, he was more willing to do it.
“It was amazing” he broke the silence while playing with her hair.
“It really was” She looked up to him and smiled. Careful to his wound, she caressed gently his left cheek and looked for some sign of discomfort but didn’t notice any.
“It still hurts?” she worried. Hotch took her hand and gently kissed her palm before answering.
“Not much”
“Good. So…” she started carefully “Do you wanna talk about what happened tonight?”
“No” he answered back without thinking twice. She didn’t insist and let it go. Y/N knew he was scared and that he would have talked whenever was ready, but she also wanted to let him know that she was there for him, for the good and the bad.
“I don’t wanna force you, just know that I’m here for you. Whatever you need.” He nodded and went back to staring at the ceiling while softly petting her side. They stayed like that for what felt like hours, neither of them could sleep. He was too overwhelmed by what had happened that night and she was too worried that if she closed her eyes something bad would happen to him, again.
“He made me see things,” he mumbled after sitting on the side of the bed, with his back to Y/N. He was resting the head between his hands trying to control the tears that were ready in his eyes. He soon felt Y/N’s arms hugging him from behind and smiled when she kissed the back of his head.
“It’s okay, babe. It’s over now” he took a deep breath and kept going as she moved sitting near him, and turned to him.
“You guys were all death. You died because of me” Her heart broke at seeing him so vulnerable and hurt. One of Y/N’s hands was running toward his hair, while the other was caressing his hand. She was looking at him with a worried sight.
“What happened in that house, Hotch?” she asked carefully.
“I was sitting on the floor in the office, hurt and drugged. You went in separately a-and…” he paused for a second, scared to relive those moments “JJ and Reid were the first to die. He took them by surprise, they couldn't even defend themselves. Then he killed Rossi and Morgan”
He looked toward her and she saw all the pain in his eyes. He watched his team die in front of him but Y/N knew he wasn’t done. She wiped the tear that had fallen on his cheek and smiled softly when he kissed her knuckles.
“What happened later?” his eyes were glassy once again. He took him a few seconds before answering that.
“He killed you” he looked down, between his feet, not being able to bear her look at the moment “You had found me. You were there in front of me w-when he shot you. He shot you twice and your blood was all over me. I couldn’t help you. I couldn’t help any of you.”
Y/N hugged him tightly to her chest to make him feel her presence. He broke down and started crying in her arms pulling her even closer if possible. He needed to feel her, to make sure she was there in his arms and that it was real.
“It’s over. I’m right here, honey” Y/N tried to reassure him the best she could, caressing his back the way she knew he liked. Hotch calmed down after a few minutes and pulled out from the hug to look at her.
“It was so real. Watching you and the team die. The thought of watching my team die always scared me and now I get to see what it would look like. I know it’s a risk of the job but…I can’t lose you Y/N. Or the team. Not the way I lost Haley.”
“He got into your head. It was what he wanted, taking control. But you don’t have to let him do it again. We arrested him, it’s over. Don’t give him more power. I’m so sorry you had to go through that and I’m sorry I’ve arrived too late but please never doubt yourself.” She stopped for a moment to kiss him hard on the lips and to wipe away another tear from his cheek.
“You’re an amazing team leader, you always have your team’s back. They count on you, they respect you but more than this, they trust you, Aaron. As a leader, of course, but also as a friend. I know how you're feeling, I’ve been there too but I’m sure that when the time comes, you’ll do everything in your power to protect your team.”
Without hesitation, he leaned over to close the gap between them and kissed her lips holding her head in his strong hands. He deepened the kiss wanting to feel more of her. Laying her back on the bed, he was over her once again, but this time felt different. He just wanted to feel her close, nothing sexual, just a pure connection and innocent kisses and touches.
“Wanna go for it again?” Y/N joked.
“No. Just wanna cuddle” he answered honestly and she nodded. They climbed under the covers one more time spooning, and Hotch wrapped her in a tight hug around her waist holding her impossibly closer to him.
His mind was playing games with him and it would take a while to move on, but right there he was in peace. He had in his arms one of two of the most important people in his life. She was alive and safe and that was the only thing that mattered to him. He fell asleep minutes after her with a smile on his face.
*
The next morning, she woke up to his soft snoring and turned toward him after checking the time. The light of the sun coming through the window was still weak so they could stay in bed for a few more hours but no matter how much she tried she could not stay in bed anymore. Careful not to wake him, she headed quickly to the bathroom and then straight to the kitchen. Y/N was planning to make Hotch some homemade blueberry pancakes that she knew he would love.
She found everything she needed and prepared on the kitchen counter. There was always food at Hotch’s, unlike at hers. She was barely at home, not just because she practically lived with the Hotcners but mostly because she was always at work if she wasn’t with them.
She always put her job first, that was how she grew up. Y/N traveled a lot since she was a kid due to her parent’s job and then when she joined the Navy she just kept traveling around the world. She never had a place to call home, just empty houses. Never stayed in the same city for more than a few years and she was okay with it. She was more than happy to keep living like that and then she met Hotch.
For the first time in a long time, she stopped traveling and had a place that felt like home. It wasn’t easy at first, she wasn’t used to it but for Hotch was worth a try. She was enjoying her new life; she still had her job but it didn’t require her to travel that much anymore.
While thinking about her life, she finished preparing the pancakes and an hour or so had passed. She headed back into the bedroom and stopped in her tracks looking at Hotch. He looked peaceful and vulnerable and the sheet, that only covered him to his waist, left his scarred torso exposed.
She knew what had happened with Foyet but that hadn’t changed her feelings for him and she made sure to remind him how much she loved him and how sexy and handsome he was. He hardly believed he was sexy or handsome but secretly loved when Y/N told him.
She climbed back in the bed, carefully to not wake him, and stayed in silence for a few minutes just enjoying the view. She started placing a few soft kisses down his neck getting a low groan from him, she moved on the shoulder before straddling him. He opened his eyes slowly, even though his body was betraying him, and fully awake.
She leaned down to kiss his lips, attentively placing one hand on his wounded cheekbone. His hands through her hair were pulling her closer, deepening the kiss. She felt his body react under her and smiled at the sensation.
“Good morning, Agent Hotchner”
“Good morning, Lieutenant Y/L/N”
“I made pancakes” she informed him.
“It can wait,” he said smirking and without giving her time to reply, he rolled them over ending on top of her. She gasped at the sudden move but wasn’t complaining. His hands were wandering under her t-shirt, touching her tits and making her moan. Immediately he took it off and threw it away somewhere across the room.
He bent to kiss her neck and went down on her chest taking a nipple in his mouth and massaging the other. She arched her back and groaned at the feeling. He was good with his hands. He continued his way down her body, leaving wet kisses here and there on her torso. Once he got to her entrance, he moved her panties to the side and slipped a single finger into her wetness.
“You’re so wet, baby” she groaned begging him to do something, anything. He started moving slowly back and forth doing small circles but stopping right before the release. He wanted to savor the moment and had planned to do it by edging her.
“Aaron please?” she lamented pulling on his hair.
“Not yet”
He moved his finger up on her clit and began circling it, fastening the pace to his own liking, doing smaller and smaller circles but stopping as soon as she got too close to the edge. He began his assault with his tongue too making her moan at the sudden contact. Sucking hard for a few minutes before sliding two fingers inside her making it even more difficult for her not to come right away. Y/N was almost dripping as he was using his fingers to fuck her. When she begged for him, he stopped moving again.
“You bastard” she mumbled to herself. His erection was growing just by hearing her moaning. He needed to be inside her as much as she needed him. He went back over to her, she took his head and pulled him in for a kiss. Y/N could taste herself on his lips and moaned.
“I wanna make love with you, Y/N” he whispered against her lips. She smiled nodding, giving him the permission he needed before he slowly slid into her. Her body reacted like it was the first time like he hadn’t fucked her senseless the night before. They groaned in unison.
He started going slow and deep, making her moan loudly for hitting all the right spots. Y/N wrapped her legs around his waist to give him a better angle to go deeper.
“Oh God, baby” he groaned in her ear, feeling her get tighter around him. He started moving faster pounding her deeper, sending her over the edge.
“Oh fuck!” He didn’t stop, riding her orgasm to give her one more. She was holding onto his shoulders scratching them with her nails, as pleasure was overwhelming her body. He was groaning into her neck trying to gain some control.
“I-I’m close…” she came again within seconds and with a few more thrusts he came deep inside her, groaning loudly.
“Oh yes, baby” he rolled off her and laid on the bed, both trying to catch their breath. He pulled her on his chest and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. They stayed in bed for a little while, planning what to do in the next few days, deciding what to tell Jack about his father's wound and forgetting soon about the pancakes. The silence of the room was broken by Hotch’s stomach rumbling and they both laughed.
“There was a mention of pancakes, was it?”
“Oh yeah! They’re waiting for you. And so are the blueberries” he smiled widely at her at the mention of his favorite fruit. They headed together to the kitchen after putting some clothes on. While Hotch was sitting at the counter, Y/N was assembling their plates. Three pancakes each, with a few more blueberries on top and maple syrup.
“Don’t look at me like that, Hotchner.”
“Like what?”
“Like you want to fuck me right here, right now.” he laughed at the comment as she put the plate in front of him and sat in the chair next to his.
“I was just thinking how much I like this, having you around.” she blushed and smiled.
“I like this too. I like even more making you and Jack blueberry pancakes in the morning and spending the days with you. I never thought I would love this lifestyle but now I can’t live without it.” He smiled and took her hand in his to kiss it tenderly.
“I love you, Y/N”
“I love you too, Aaron”
They shared another intense kiss when Hotch’s stomach rumbling interrupted.
“Now let’s eat because I’m starving.”
Once they finished, Hotch washed the plates while Y/N was sitting at the counter enjoying the view of his perfect ass and the way his t-shirt was perfectly hugging his back and biceps. She was daydreaming and didn’t notice that Hotch was done.
“Now who’s the one with the “I wanna fuck you” look?” he moved back near her while mocking her and sat on the chair.
“Wait here” She disappeared into the bedroom and came back with a few stuffs he couldn’t identify and put them on the counter. “We need to clean your wound.”
Right. He had forgotten about it, but he didn’t have the time to protest that she was already standing between his legs with disinfectant and gauze in hand. She was quick and careful before putting a small band-aid on it. She kissed him on his forehead before starting to massage his temple, because she knew he needed but was too stubborn to ask.
“Thank you”
“You’re welcome. Just ask me whenever you need it”
“I-I meant…Thank you for being my rock, for respecting my boundaries, and for not forcing me to talk about last night. I could’ve done it without you. But I need to tell you something.”
“What?” she asked a bit worried.
“I didn’t have sex with you last night because I wanted to have sex but because I wanted to have control over something. I needed to have control over something. Peter Lewis made me feel so powerless and weak, he got into my head and used my biggest fear against me, and I was blocked, I couldn’t do anything to stop him. You were there and sex was the only thing I thought could’ve given me back some sort of control.”
He stopped and searched for some kind of reaction from Y/N but found none.
“I’m so sorry. I should have talked to you instead.”
Silence filled the room; she was still standing between him. Hotch was expecting the worst, you had every right to get mad and could’ve blamed you. For sure, he wasn’t expecting what happened next.
“Did it work?” the question took him off guard and gave her a questioning look. “The sex. Did it give you some control back?”
“Yes. For a little while at least”
“Then you don’t have anything to apologize for. If sex was what you needed, I’m happy I was there.”
“But..” he started but she interrupted
“No buts. You didn’t force me to do anything if this is what you’re worrying about. I was completely fine with it; it was what you needed. And I knew that if I ever felt uncomfortable you would’ve stopped right away, without even asking you. Am I right?”
“Of course. I would never hurt you intentionally.”
“Good” Y/N leaned quickly to kiss his lips and caressed his cheek “You’re a good man, Aaron Hotchner. Never doubt it.”
“Thank you”
“But if you ever forget it, I’ll be happy to remind you. In every way I see fit.”
He laughed and pulled her closer to him to share a passionate kiss, there in the kitchen. Oh, how much he loved that woman, never in a million years he thought he would’ve been so lucky. He had this beautiful woman in his arms who loved him as much as he loved her, and this scared him because he didn’t want to ruin things.
For a moment his mind went to Jack and thought of how much they’ve liked each other from the very first moment. Hotch loved watching the two of them interacting, Jack loved having her around. Sometimes it still felt like a dream, but it was very real. Y/N was there, and she was his. Well not yet, but one day he was going to marry that woman.
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotchner smut#david rossi#derek morgan#spencer reid#jennifer jareau#aaron hotchner x fem!reader
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Nanami x fem reader
Note: GUYS IM BACK FOR NOWW IT HAS BEEN SO LONG😭 (I’ll probably disappear again after this post)
——————————————————————————
You were currently 5 months pregnant waiting on Nanami to get home, he hasn’t been home for 2 days straight because of some unfinished work.
You guys have been together for 2 years and engaged for 4 months, you made one of his favorite dishes for dinner and put it in the toaster oven to keep warm hoping he’d come home to it still warm. You were so excited for him to come home you felt like you were going to burst.
You sat on the sofa watching Tv while waiting, after a while you got a text from nanami, your face lit up unfortunately it was just filled with sad new. The text stated that he wouldn’t be coming home until the next morning. You felt so devastated but you knew that it was your hormones making you feel this way because usually you’d understand when he has to work late.
You’ve been touch deprived for 2 days and you thought tonight you’d finally feel better but you were wrong. Before you knew it you started crying. You felt so selfish for crying over something so dumb and foolish.
You decided to go to bed since he wasn’t coming home for the night. You went into the bedroom and went into the bed, you covered yourself and drifted off to sleep.
3:26 am
You were awoken by the sound of movement in the room. You knew exactly who it was judging by the smell, it was nanami..
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you” he mumbled. “I thought you weren’t gonna be home till 7?” You got up and turned on the light. “It’s okay I wasn’t really sleeping anyways” you laughed. Looking at his face you saw that he was injured and he also had a stab wound. “Before you worry yourself and the baby I’m fine. Just a little scratch” he told you.
Not in the mood to argue with him you pulled him into the bathroom and took out the first aid kit. “I said I was fine honey” you ignored him and cleaned his stabbed wound and wrapped it up. You then proceed to clean the bruises on his face and put a plaster on them. “Why were you crying?” He lifted up your chin to see your red eyes.
“It was nothing just my hormones” you tired to laugh it off feeling way too embarrassed to tell him why you were actually crying.
“You never cry over something dumb I know you, tell me what’s wrong baby” he placed you on the bathroom counter. “I just missed you that’s all… and your touch and your voice and everything about you” feeling a little embarrassed that those words left your mouth. “You missed me huh?” He smirked. You nodded and put your hands around his neck. “Good thing I’ll be home tomorrow” he whispered in your ears as he took you back into the bedroom.
Sorry for the mistakes 😔
#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu x reader#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu nanami#nanami kento#nanami x reader#nanami x y/n#nanami fluff#yuji itadori#gojo satoru#geto suguru#nobara kugisaki#megumi fushiguro
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no other heart *ೃ༄ gn!reader x spencer reid
in which, spencer has a jealousy streak
the day after tomorrow, is yours and spencer’s four-year anniversary. the realization makes you reminisce; prior to dating, you always knew who he was—the cute smart boy who’s a year younger than you, but was already graduating with a handful of doctorates come spring.
you think about how you both went through an awkward more-than-friends-but-not-dating phase that lasted a little over a year, but ended the day he completed his fbi training—when you forced him to celebrate with you and he confessed with a flush on his cheeks, from alcohol or pure nervousness, you’re not sure, but that night, he told you he’d like to stay by your side.
from then, it was a dream. three and three fourths of a year that you should’ve known was too good to be true.
because your four-year anniversary was tomorrow, but for the past month and a half, you and spencer have been avoiding each other as if life depended on it.
you’re not proud of it, spencer definitely isn’t either. but you’re both people who are afraid and extremely unsure of the next step you’re both meant to take.
your friends say break up, you don’t even know if his friends know you exist.
but you decide to make it tomorrow’s problem, because tonight, you’re going to dinner with your best friend.
and you’re going to enjoy it.
that was the mindset you had coming into the restaurant, obviously not knowing that spencer and his team were planning to enjoy their evening there too.
“do i look at him?” you whisper, panicking to your best friend, “am i even allowed to look at him?”
“that fact you’re asking that question is, yet again, another reason to leave him.” she says matter-of-factly. “but that girl sitting beside him is the hottest eye candy i’ve seen. ever—don’t worry, i think she’s into girls.”
“i wasn’t—”
“yes, you were jealous. don’t even.”
you can’t even argue back because the host announces your table is ready, and you both trail behind them. you manage a glance at spencer, meeting his gaze.
you manage a smile, a little wobbly and unsure, and he reciprocates with an awkward little grin with raised eyebrows.
the host seats you a few tables away from him. close enough to the point where it’s kind of awkward, but far enough that he can’t hear any conversation.
you decide to sit with your back facing him.
the next morning, you wake up to a text.
spencer<3: I have a case in New York. I’ll see you in a few days.
a mixture of relief and uneasiness pool in your stomach, but you’re glad the apartment will be empty for a while—tension won’t be so high and you’d probably be able to sleep a well-missed eight hours.
but a part of you knows you’re growing farther and farther apart, simply watching as the love of your life slips through your fingers—
you: okay. take care
you: i love you
it’s bittersweet and you swear your chest has never hurt this much, but it’s oddly freeing and you can’t find the energy to be disappointed anymore.
you spend the day alone—questionable because it’s officially been four years since you’ve been with spencer, but he’s in another state and your overtime paycheque is all too tempting.
bypassing shopping guilt has never felt so easy.
the day passes by in a blur, the usual emptiness of the passenger seat now was filled with “useless” knickknacks and things that were well overdue.
new work pants and little trinkets, a cute lamp and your favourite candle.
aimlessly, you drive around the city. going home doesn’t feel right anymore, but sleeping in a motel or at a friend’s feels even worse.
your fingers tap against the wheel, waiting for the lights to turn green. pedestrians pass by and the downtown signs flicker obnoxiously.
you miss spencer.
you always miss him.
days used to feel too short when he’s around and you wished nights would last forever.
popcorn and late night tv reruns of shitty shows you both love to criticize, strolls around the neighbourhood that always ended in a kiss under the lamppost in front of your apartment—once or twice, you’ve even had him in checkmate (he says it was foul-play, you’d say a win is a win).
you wonder what life would be like without him.
you wonder what it would be like—falling in love with somebody else.
as you open the door to your apartment, a chilling breeze gnaws at your cheeks, your eyes spotting the familiar pair of beat up converse throw askew on the floor.
chest constricting, a sigh strains from your lips as you step in, quietly closing the door.
“eventful day?” you hear. in response you nod, forcing a smile.
“you’re back way early. to what do i owe the pleasure?” you turn, bracing yourself for the image of no one other than your boyfriend of officially four years.
he grins, tense, and his eyes stay on the floor. he plays with his hands and he sighs, “i-i didn’t get on the plane.”
“you..” eyebrows raised, you set your stuff down, “what do you mean? you—you didn’t get on the plane? you were here? this whole time?”
“i’m really sorry.” he begins, hands flying in sync with his ramblings, “i-i know that doesn’t make up for anything, but i saw how that waiter from the other night was looking at you and i remembered that we haven’t had a proper conversation in at least a month, and i got worried about the state our relationship has come to and—”
“spencer, my love,” you breathe, “slow down.”
“i realized that keeping you a secret, which started from wanting to keep you safe due to my line of work, has caused more harm than good.” he summarizes, “i realized that the waiter from the restaurant has a very normal job and from his body language, i could tell he was interested in—”
“spence, you profiled a waiter?”
“i observed.” he looks down at his hands that are now situated in his lap. “i did get jealous. he’d be able to show you off without putting you on some psychopath’s hit list, although—”
he stops when he makes eye contact with you.
you’re amused, clearly. and spencer’s lips press into a thin line.
“you’re laughing at me.”
you deny his accusation with a shake of your head, despite the curl of your lips telling a different story.
“i think it’s funny that we went so long without talking to each other, only to brought together by a waiter—”
“not a waiter,” he interrupts and you quirk a brow.
“so jealously then?”
he’s silent. “jealously is powerful motivator, you know.” he stands up just to hold your hand, pulling you to sit with him, “but truly, i didn’t want to miss our anniversary. i know we haven’t talked properly—”
you shake your head, “we can talk about it all later,” you whisper, hands holding his as if he’ll disappear. “i’m so happy you’re here right now.”
spencer leans in, brushing his nose against yours before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “not as happy as i am.”
you kiss him, a little deeper this time to make sure that he’s really here. “and for the record,” you say, watching his lips twitch into a smile, “i’d never want to be with a waiter. i kind of have a thing for fbi agents.”
he laughs, a little bashful and his ears turn pink. “i’ll keep that in mind.”
#no other heart by mac demarco<3#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds imagines#spencer reid imagines#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fandom#mgg x reader#mgg#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid#spencer reid x you#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds x y/n
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