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miguelsslvt · 11 months

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Hello mother ❤❤😇 how your day going so far

i just wanted to ask you if you could make an bully!miguel x nerd!reader (virgin fem)

Where miguel very much loves to bully reader,maybe an little to much,loves to see her cry, loves to see an reaction from her,and especially when she vulnerable, but never show that side of him to reader,but he masterbate the thought of reader sucking his dick with tears running down her face,but It was until one day where reader was helping with one of the other nerd their, seeing her smiling to ear to ear made his blood boiling,vein popping,eyes cold as the negative zero,but he just walk off leaving,he already had an punishment in mind for reader, (whatever you want,you could put one) where miguel beat the crap out of the guy and making sure that the guy knew to never touch his nerd,and then the next day miguel locks her up with him in an empty classroom and nsfw part come here,😅🙂 just wants him to be an little possessive (that is definitely isn't an LITTLE but who care)

IDK ANYMORE just an request

😜

bully! miguel x nerd! virgin! reader smut

word count: 1.9k

TW: nsfw, smut, bullying, swear words, threats, miguel is lowkey a perv, loss of virginity.

A/N: FINALLY mother has posted!! quite a long one today, could u tell? welcome to the club!! ^^

you felt weak. helpless. Every time he would utter a word to you, it was never anything nice. Always spiteful. Big mean Miguel o’hara. The rudest but coolest boy in your whole year. You’d be like any girl, gawking and jumping circles around him, if it wasn’t for the way he treated you. You should be flattered, really. Considering all the attention and nicknames he gives you. Although, I wouldn’t say ‘freak’ or ‘know it all weirdo’ are considered ‘cute nicknames’.

He practically barred you from gaining any social status, let alone friends. and as much as Miguel does it to everyone, he liked to specifically target you. Why? god knows. All you know is that Miguel is an asshole. A big one.

——————————————————

It was AP English, and you were supposed to be studying for a Macbeth assignment coming up. Supposed to. That was until Peter Parker, who could possibly be the only other person in school that was as bullied as you, decided to sit beside you and ‘hang out’. Your teacher was on pretty good terms with you, so he didn’t mind having two nerds coddled up in the back of class talking about the latest ‘nyc best seller book’. However, when Miguel noticed you both talking in the back, he realised quickly that you two weren’t talking about book clubs.

‘He’s such a jerk, right?’ Peter said, as you were a giggly mess. You put your hand on peter’s as you crouched to laugh even more. Miguel’s eyes darkened. ‘He is! W-when he’s like, ‘oh yeah I’m the coolest kid in school’, when in truth no one actually likes him!’ You replied, as you and Peter clung onto each other, both laughing messes.

Miguel clenched his jaw, realising you must be talking about him. god, he never felt more rage then he did right now.

The truth was, Miguel did bully you. He knew that. he did it on purpose. Just watching you cry, watching you move away from him in the halls so he didn’t heckle you, that arose something in Miguel that made him smirk whenever you squirmed. However, you didn’t know that most nights when he got a reaction out of you, he would lock himself in his room and pull his cock so hard he’s as much of a mess as you were. Hell, he’s even caught himself whimpering your name a few times. But he wouldn’t ever admit it to you. I mean, its ridiculous! What popular asshole admits to the nerd of the school that he’s been touching himself just thinking about her?! His reputation would be ruined! but would he still do it? absolutely.

‘Honestly, I sometimes think flash is the meanest in our school.’ you say, as peter nods in agreement. ‘Yeah absolutely, either him or Miguel.’ He says, as you tilt your head. ‘Whys that?’ You ask, eyebrows furrowed. Peter raises an eyebrow. ‘I mean, cmon y/n, he’s horrible to you, he made you cry yesterday just because you took the last cake in the cafeteria!’ He said, chuckling. You look down. ’I dunno.. I mean he is a little mean to me but still, the difference between Miguel and flash is that Miguel is actually nice to his friends. flash is an asshole to everyone, including his own family.’ You admit.

Peter looks shocked. ‘I mean, you can’t be serio-‘ ‘been talking bad about me, Pete?’ A deep voice was heard. Your blood ran cold. You could see the fear on peter’s face. you both turned around, seeing Miguel towering above you both. You stood up immediately. ‘I- Miguel I don’t think peter meant it in a malicious way’ ‘I’ll deal with you in a second.’ Miguel snapped, as you looked down.

‘M-miguel I didn’t mean to-‘ Peter stammered, as Miguel scoffed. ‘You didn’t mean to? Oh yeah? So what, you weren’t just saying all that shit?’ He said, as Peter looked down. ‘I-i’m sorry.’ He stuttered, as Miguel clenched his fists. ‘You do anything like that again, I’ll get flash to fuck you up again. You hear me?’ He said threateningly, as he lifted his finger to tap on peter’s glasses. ‘Fixed your glasses huh? hm.. shame. Me and flash worked hard breaking them last semester.’ He mocked, as you looked away. The bell soon rang, and you and Peter quickly gathered your stuff to leave.

It was lunch, as you walked down the hall towards the cafeteria, you heard your ‘nickname’. ‘Hey, know it all!’ Miguel shouted out, as you turned around slowly. ‘Y-yes?’ You stuttered, as he grabbed your hand, pulling you into an empty classroom.

You squeaked, falling back into the wall, as Miguel locked the door beside you. ‘I-i didn’t m-mean to be mean last class Miguel i-i swear I-‘ ‘shut your mouth.’ He said, his voice deeper then usual. He turned around from you, as your face grew concerned. ‘A-are you okay?’ You asked. you hear him chuckle, turning towards you. ‘You’re supposed to be smart, but you can’t see what’s about to happen?’ He asked teasingly, moving closer to you. he stopped just as your noses touched, you could feel his hot breath on your lips.

‘..i-if this is some sick prank, it’s really mean.’ You whispered, refusing to look at Miguel in the eyes. He noticed that. ‘Look at me.’ He said, as you hesitantly look up at Miguel. ‘There she is.’ He teased, his finger lifting up your chin. ‘..y’know, I don’t actually think you’re ugly.’ He confessed, as your eyebrows rose.

You were confused. Very confused. ‘Wh-what are you..?’ You tried saying, as Miguel leaned closer to your lips. ‘Let me kiss you.’ He whispered, as your eyes widened. ‘..you-you hate me.’ You said, looking up at Miguel. He smirked. ‘Who says that?’ He teased. He leaned closer to your er. ‘I’ve been infatuated about you for a while now. I never knew why, but when I saw you with damn Parker.. it’s made me realise. Made me know for sure now that I want you.’ He confesses, as you gasped. ‘you.. what?’ you uttered out, as he leaned back towards your lips. ‘Can I kiss you?’ He asks, as you took a moment to digest what he just said.

Did Miguel O’hara just confess he liked you thew whole time he was bullying you? This is all too confusing for you. You should say no, you should go, you should push him away.

‘..yes.’ you muttered, as you watched Miguel’s eyes lighten up with something. Lust? Love? You’re not too sure. What you were sure about, however, was his lips on yours. It was a funny feeling, considering it was your first kiss.

His lips were warmer compared to yours, but they were soft. Too soft. As you both indulged in the kiss, his hands moved down towards your waist. You weren’t sure where to put your hands, so you just settled with his shoulders and hoped it was the right move.

He let go eventually, panting for air, as were you. He smirked. ‘You haven’t kissed anyone before, have you?’ He mocked. ‘Let me guess, you a virgin too?’ He spoke as you blushed, looking away. He moved his right hand to move your chin towards him. ‘Nothing to be ashamed of, sweetheart. Let me take care of that for you.’ He said, his voice sultry.

before you could respond, Miguel grabbed your hips and led you to an empty desk, lifting you up onto it.

You squeaked again, as he just chuckled in response. ‘Who knew little crybaby nerd was such a compliant little girl?’ He teased, as you looked up at him, your face filled with embarrassment. His lips met yours once again, as he kissed you sensually. He lifted your uniform skirt up, his hands travelling up and down your thighs. You pulled away from the kiss slightly to gasp, as he sighed. ‘..you ok with this?’ He asked, as you looked down. Soon enough you looked up at Miguel, nodding. You put your hands on his necks, as you pulled him in for another kiss.

You both were indulged in the moment, and before you knew it, your panties were off and Miguel was unbuckling his belt. You looked down patiently, and honestly a little nervously, to see if the rumour of ‘big dick Miguel’ was true.

‘..it is true.’ You mumbled, eyes wide as his hardened 8 and a half inches stood with pride. He raised an eyebrow. ‘What was true?’ He asked, confused. ’n-nothing. I.. is it.. is it erm, y’know- gonna hurt?’ You asked, your voice shaky. He looked down at you, sighing. ‘It might. But it’ll feel good soon enough, trust me. Okay?’ He said, kissing you softly for what seemed like the first time ever.

He slowly pushed inside, as your eyes widened. Before he could get to more then the tip, you winced. ’S-stop!’ You said, as he stopped moving. ‘..l-let me just.. g-get used to it..’ You said head on Miguel’s shoulder. He tutted, stroking you hair. ‘Haven’t you even put a finger in there before? Damn it, darling, you’re tight..’ He said, kissing your head. eventually, you caught your breath. ‘..g-go deeper.’ You said, as he nodded patiently, pushing all of himself inside. You cried out, tears falling down your face, and something switched in Miguel again.

He couldn’t help himself. That sweet defenceless face of yours, hot with tears, was enough to make him start bucking his hips into yours. He pulled in and out, his hands stuck tightly on your hips, as you clawed on his shoulders, gasping and whining from the painful.. pleasure? Maybe Miguel it was right, maybe it does start to feel good after a while.

As you both got into a rhythm, the pain was overseen by the pleasure soon enough. You were moaning in Miguels ear, gasping. God this was like a dream for him. You were a squirming, whimpering mess, putty in his hands. And he loved every bit of it. ‘god.. you’re so fuckable.. w-who knew the nerd would be such a fucking cute little slut?’ He teased you, as you just moaned in response. ‘Told you it’d feel good, didn’t I? C’mon sweetheart, use your words.’ He cooed, your face scrunching up in a mixture of pain and pleasure. He moved his hand from your waist to your cheek, as he wiped some of your hair away. ‘Hm? Thought you were smart, sweetheart. Wheres all those big words now huh?’ Miguel whispered, as you felt your stomach getting hot. ‘I- m-miguel i-it feels weird..!’ You managed to moan out, as he moved his forehead to rest on your own. ‘You’re gonna cum sweetheart, thats why.. don’t worry, I am too. we can do it together, yeah?’ He panted, as you nodded.

Soon enough, you reached your high, as Miguel played with your clit, making your first orgasm fucking amazing. Your eyes rolled back, as you moaned loudly. As you started to come down, Miguel pulled out, and came on your thighs with a loud grunt. You both stayed for a moment like this, your foreheads leaning on one another, sweaty and panting. once Miguel caught his breath, he cleared his throat and fixed his pants, walking over to the empty teachers desk to find some tissues, walking back over to you as he silently cleaned your messy thighs. Once he was finished, he looked down at you, leaning closer. ‘..you okay?’ He asked quietly.

‘m..mhm.’ you choked out, looking down. ‘I-..I won’t tell anyone.’ You reassured, as he nodded, moving your skirt down. ‘..you should go to the bathroom before running to the cafeteria. Your hair is uh.. y’know.’ He said, as you blushed and nodded.

Miguel left before you, as you stood up and sighed, fixing your hair and uniform. You then looked around the classroom.

You’ll never be able to look at history classroom the same ever again.

#miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel spiderman #across the spiderverse #miguel smut #miguel spiderverse #fem reader #smut #kinktober #bully miguel o’hara #nerd reader

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waywardcrow · 5 months

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I’m back!!! Kind of 😅. I loved this request and this is my first Natasha fic so I loved it more, this was written very quick so please excuse any mistakes.

You felt out of place, you probably should go back to your lab and forget all about this but you couldn't. Natasha came back after a month long mission and you missed her, besides she looked different.

It was hard to tell what was it but for some reason you knew, something was off.

After making a quick stop in the kitchen, you went straight to Nat's office, knocking the door softly but it was too late, you saw her wipe her eyes.

"I- hi, I, sorry" you mumbled, embarassment for you and concern for her twisting your stomach "I brought you hot chocolate"

The readhead spy cleared her throat, taking control of her features and just like that, all the vulnerability vanished.

"Thanks, sweetheart"

She took the cup in her pale hands and it was very hard to don't get close to her to give her a hug.

"Are you ok?"

"Of course" her answer, fast and short, made you wince.

"The mission-" you started but Natasha got up from the chair, avoiding your gaze.

"I have to go" she said, taking her things to leave you there, feeling like an idiot.

A few days after that, you still felt bad. Who did you think you were? Going to the Natasha Romanoff and act like you were friends? Sure, she was nice to you every time she came to the lab to visit Tony but that was it, you were the one who had a hopeless crush on her and now she probably would never speak to you again.

"You should go home, cricket" your boss reminded you.

"Say the pot to the kettle or whatever"

Tony laughed at your sleep deprived response but when he was about to say something else, he saw a certain someone in the door.

"You know what, you are right, night cricket"

And he left, making sure you were busy with your notes and sending a wink to Natasha.

"You should listen to him" were the first words the readhead said, making you yell "didn't mean to scare you, sweetheart"

"No, I'm fine, I just didn't hear you come in"

Taking in her appareance, your anxiety rocketed. Nat was wearing one of your favorite hoodies and leggins, her hair braided to keep it out of the way. She looked beautiful as always but it was almost like she was ready to run away at any moment.

"I wanted to check on you, I haven't see you in a couple days"

Turning in your seat to see her better, you took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, for the other day. I didn't want to intrude" you started but Nat closed the distance between you two.

"Please don't apologize, sweetheart" she sat on your desk, making your heart beat out of tune "you did nothing wrong"

"I- I saw you crying" you mentally slapped yourself after the words left your mouth, what the hell was happening go you?

Natasha pursed her lips and in that moment you were sure she would leave again but instead of that, she looked at her hands.

"There was a problem, with the mission" she said and this time you didn't stop yourself to reach for her.

"Do you- do you want to talk about it?"

Natasha looked at your hands together and sighed.

"Not yet, maybe later" with tenderness, she put her other hand on top of yours "what I mean with this is, I don't want to push you away, not you"

Were you dreaming? Was she saying what you think she was saying? It was impossible. But with the hint of honesty in her green eyes it was hard to doubt her.

"Then don't" you whispered with hope in your voice "I'm here"

A tiny yet beautiful smile appeared on her lips, maybe she wasn't ready to be herself completely with someone else but for you, she will try.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x gender neutral reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff fluff

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redsrooftopprincess · 12 days

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Gravity (Part 3)

Last chapter? Idk. Taking suggestions on what to call this.

Asks are open, but I don't have a lot of free time and I'm new at this so be gentle. 😅

Okay, let's face it, you're not here for me. On with the show.

Warnings: alcohol, hypothermia

chai-tea level spice.

gn (w/ longish hair) reader x Raphael

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You're anxious tonight. You aren't sure why. Maybe it's the weather. You hate when the boys are out on nights like this. Another rumble of thunder shakes the near empty glass of wine on the coffee table, and you glance at the window which offers nothing more than a void. Unhelpful.

You'd drifted through the week, distracted. That night, and his words, echoing your head. Even April had noticed. Eyeing you one morning while sipping her coffee.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Huh?" You looked up from the cereal you were supposed to be eating. By now, the marshmallows had half dissolved.

"I said... What's wrong with you?" April asked, sitting down at the table across from you and looking you up and down.

"Nothing," you reassured unconvincingly, your eyes darting back down to the generic cereal, which was pretty swiftly becoming a thick sugary soup. You poked at it a few times with your spoon.

She'd let it go, but you caught her watching you closely a few times. Screw her and her journalism instincts.

You and Raphael had always been close. He'd been standoffish at first, acting in his self-appointed role of family guardian, but it didn't take long before you were endeared to him, and not long after that you were spending nearly all your free time together.

More than a few times you've gotten sideways glances from his family. You're so in-sync that you almost seem like a couple at times. You laugh and cry together, and talk deep into the night about things you just can't tell anyone else. He's become your person, and you his.

The last few weeks have been hard on the both of you, and the last week has been the hardest. You dont want to push, especially not right now, nothing important should be discussed right now, but you don't know where his head is at and you're worried.

You frown at the television, readjusting your position on the couch and scrolling to find something to watch. You are attempting to settle in to some exceptionally stupid movie (this way, when April asks what you did tonight, you don't have to lie) when you hear something heavy hit the roof.

He didn't make a sound if he didn't want to. Usually he would land just hard enough that you would know he was there. They all did, out of courtesy. Like a knock at the door. But this was different. Clumsy.

You stare out into the pitch black, grabbing your phone and sending the call. It goes to voicemail.

Raph was always encouraging you to trust your instincts and right now, your instincts were screaming that something was very *very* wrong.

You toss your phone on the couch and are out the window and halfway up the fire escape without a second thought. You're soaked through in seconds and shivering, but you slow before you crest the roof. You shout into the squall.

"Listen Red, I know you don't want to see me right now, but you're not answering your phone and I need to know that you're okay. Okay?"

You wait for a response and there is none, which doesn't make you feel better. You finally reach the roof, and suddenly neither the cold, nor the rain matter.

Sheets of rain and sleet crash over his fallen form like waves, and you run to him. He's freezing cold. Damn it. He'd promised you he'd gotten that fixed. You don't bother checking for a pulse. Your hands are borderline numb, and you probably wouldn't be able to feel it, anyway.

You call his name and make a valiant attempt at shaking him awake.

Somewhere in the depths of unconsciousness he hears you, but he fights it. He wants to stay. He likes it here. It's soft and warm and safe. The world behind him is cold and hard, full of pain and longing. He wants this. He wants this peace.

Then he hears you call his name again, and there's no contest.

He stirs and it's raining so hard that the only way you can tell you're crying is the warmth on your cheeks. You hear him groan weakly. You need to get him inside.

You know you can't physically help him in any way, but you make the attempt. You know it's not going to work, but at least now you can say you tried. He could feel free to laugh at you later.

After very much not budging your beloved behemoth so much as an inch, you lean down next to him.

"I'm gonna need your help here, Bruiser, you know I can't carry you."

A Herculean feat, but he manages to pull himself to near standing. You help him as best you can down the fire escape. It's slow going and he nearly passes out twice, but eventually you make it inside.

He doesn't make it to the couch, but collapses in front of it, sitting on the floor and leaning back against it. His eyes are closed and his breathing slow, you snatch your phone from the cushion behind him and call Donnie.

He doesn't pick up.

You call again.

"Yes. What. Do you need something?" He snaps, exasperated, as if you interrupted a hyperfocus (which, let's face it, you probably did).

"Raph is soaked and freezing and in my apartment. Get the fuck over here and fix your damn tech." You end the call and toss the phone on the couch.

You could apologize later.

You sprint to the linen closet and grab a stack of towels, tossing them into the dryer and turning it on. You quickly change into something dry, before running back to the reptile. You thank whatever god of foresight made you force Raphael teach you how to remove his gear just in case, and get to work.

Your hands don't want to cooperate at first, but adrenaline is one hell of a drug, and you have his waterlogged equipment off in record time. You retrieve the now warmed towels from the dryer and return to him. You lay a couple over his carapace, and use the others to start drying him off.

By the time you finish toweling off his extremities, he is once again beginning to stir. You step over his legs, straddling him while standing to better reach behind his head, and as you lean against him your warmth radiates through his plastron like a sun.

Almost involuntarily, his hands raise to rest at your lower back, pressing you gently against his chest.

You gasp as his hands slide under the back of your shirt, searching for warmth. His hands are still freezing cold, but you're pretty sure the gooseflesh rippling over your skin is unrelated.

You finish toweling off just under his shell, behind his head, and pull back, bracing a hand on his shoulder. As you do, his hands move to your waist and you try to ignore how they nearly envelope you.

You look down at him as his eyes slowly open and smile softly. It's obvious he's still pretty out of it.

Wreathed in warm lamplight, you look ethereal, and when his eyes finally focus on you, he thinks he's either dreaming, or dead (with his luck, probably the latter). The moment you place a warm hand against his face he decides he doesn't care.

"Hey Bruiser," you say quietly, smiling softly as your thumb wipes a drop of water from his cheek, "you're safe, the boys are on their way." The sound of your voice pours into him like warm honey and he closes his eyes with a sigh.

Reaching up to the back of your head, he pulls you gently toward him to rest your forehead against his. It was something you started doing to him not long after you became close, whenever he would get really worked up. You weren't sure if it was the physical proximity or the emotional comfort, but it seemed to help ground him. In reality, it's the closest he would ever allow himself to kissing you, and that thought by itself was very, very grounding.

But he is still warming up, still half conscious. You are filling his senses and it's overwhelming. The curtain of your hair falls around his face, and he feels drunk on your scent. You're so soft beneath his hands and the one around your waist tightens gently.

There is only about two more weeks left in the season, but it's by no means over, and something old and primal stirs in his DNA. He presses your head more firmly against his as intelligence and instinct battle within him for control.

You are his *mate*. And it is *time*. And you are *right here*.

Besides, regardless of whether he's dreaming or dead, it doesn't ultimately matter. He can't hurt you if you aren't real.

He lifts his chin, brushing his lips softly against yours. When you don't pull away in disgust he grows a little more bold, and kisses you in earnest.

It would be a lie to say that you hadn't been thinking about it more-or-less from the beginning, how different it would feel than kissing a human. Admittedly, you'd been a little worried about the mechanics, but any concerns you had dissolve when his mouth fits so perfectly against yours.

His body still feels like lead, but his mind is growing sharper, and about the time you are kissing him back he realizes how very real this is. Unfortunately, his reptile brain realizes it first.

His hand grips your waist as his kiss deepens, and there is a deep rumble within his chest that you can feel inside your own. When his thumb brushes over your abdomen you can't help the involuntary sound that escapes you.

The sound is like a starting pistol and suddenly you're flush against him and his mouth is on your throat, pressing open mouthed kisses along your jawline, blood burning in his veins at the way your heartbeat quickens under his tongue.

You had to stop this. If this was going to happen it shouldn't be like this. Right now he's borderline drugged, and if you let this happen and he later thought you didn't actually want it? You can't imagine the fallout.

But you'd had a few glasses of wine this evening, and Gods, he felt *so* good.

When his teeth graze your pulse point your attempt at a deep breath becomes a gasp, and you close your eyes to steady yourself. You had to get his attention.

You attempt to say his name, but it tumbles out of your mouth as a sigh.

"... want you..." He murmurs into your shoulder. The way his breath scatters over your skin like a shower of sparks is doing nothing to help you regain control of yourself or the situation.

He begins kissing down to your clavicle, both hands now at your waist, and despite knowing what this is, where it's going, and why it needs to stop, you can't help placing a hand on the back of his head to pull him closer.

"Sweetheart, we should really talk about this first..." you attempt again, but the tremor in your voice is the only thing that seems to register.

He holds onto you like a lifeline, as if he was drowning and you were his only oxygen. When he grips you tighter and his thumb presses into the hollow of your hip, you almost buckle. A moan escapes, despite your best efforts, and your nails scrape against the back of his neck.

The rumble in his chest grows deeper and he shifts beneath you, movement becoming easier as his temperature rises.

The sound of three very heavy things landing very softly comes from overhead.

The two of you break apart, flushed and breathless, and look at each other in shock.

You glance at the fire escape when you hear the metal rattle outside, before looking back into bewildered amber eyes.

"We're gonna talk about this," you say. He looks at you as if he doesn't understand. "When this is all over, and your brain is no longer swimming in hormone soup... We're gonna talk about this..."

He blinks up at you, a hesitant hope blossoming behind his eyes as you smile down at him, "... because I'm tired of not talking about it."

(Fin)

#bayverse raphael #bayverse raphael x reader #tmnt bayverse #tmnt Raphael x reader #raph x reader

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k-slla · 8 months

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The Best Kind of Stress Relief

A/N: @cevansbaby-dove It's really a quick in-n-out (😅) and I remember you mentioning that you wouldn't mind being choked by Jensen so *cough cough* here you go! 🤗 Hope you'll like it! 😈🤍

All mistakes are mine!

Warnings: 18+ONLY, language, unprotected PinV, choking, using tie as gag, rough sex, creampie (I am so bad with the warnings- A whole lot of smut that's what this is, so MDNI)

WC: ~1.5k

My Masterlist

You were standing outside of Felicia’s trailer, talking to her after the shooting had wrapped for the day while you waited for Jensen.

“I know it will get better, but lately it's just so hard for me to focus on working. I’ve tried meditating, relaxing baths, everything!” You shrugged defeatedly. “We even went camping last weekend.” You added, referring to yourself and Jensen.

Amusing grin appeared on her face. “You clearly did something wrong there if even that wasn’t relaxing for you.”

You laughed and shoved her playfully. “Stop! We really were just camping, you know?”

She lifted her hands up in surrender. “I know, I know. What I am saying though, is that you should’ve spent that weekend doing something else. Like doing him for example.”

You saw Jensen approaching you two with a serious face, killing the light mood you and Felicia had.

“Y/N, can we talk for a second?”

You started to worry. “Sure, babe.”

You got confused when he started to pull you back towards the set. “What’s up? Where are we going? Aren’t they closing it down already?”

His eyes sparkled mischievously when he looked back at you over his shoulder and grinned widely. “Don’t worry, we’ll be quick.”

You followed him through the maze of different rooms, until you finally arrived at the set of Bunker’s library, and Jensen pushed you to sit down in one of the chairs at the table. You eyed his moves curiously and tried to figure out his plans when he walked to the shelf and pulled one of Dean’s ties, he had worn earlier that day, out from between the books. “What are you doing?”

He ignored your question, threw the tie onto the table and pulled you up from the chair. You were now completely pinned between him and the table. “Oh, babe, what-!” Jensen cupped your cheek and kissed you, deepening it gradually until you were completely breathless.

“Sweetheart, work has been hard lately for you, hasn't it?” he whispered and pulled away from your lips. You nodded without a word, trying to catch your breath. His gaze shifted hungrily between your eyes and lips, as he brushed his thumb softly over your bottom lip.

“And you know that I can't let you take all that work stress home with you, right? It's just not healthy for you.” Jensen turned you around, so you were backed against his chest and you couldn't hold back a gasp at his sudden moves. He pushed aside your hair, revealing your neck and peppered kisses from under your ear along your shoulder.

“So what should I do about it? Fuck it out of you?” His voice was quiet and laced with desire, and you could already feel his erection pressing into your thighs. Deep moan escaped from the back of your throat, when he cupped one of your breasts.

Suddenly it dawned on you, what he had just said. “Wait, what? Right now? What if someone walks in here?” Jensen started to play with the hem of your shirt, teasingly sliding his fingers up your skin underneath it. With one hand flat on your stomach, the other one turned your chin towards him before he kissed you cravingly. “It's definitely risky, but isn't that part of the fun?”

His tongue slipped by your lips, claiming your mouth wholly. Only some desperate groans escaped you when he continued his attack on your mouth.

Without breaking your kiss, his hand moved down to open the zipper of your pants. “But we don't have to do anything, if you don't want to, just say stop, Y/N.” He added, knowing very well, that you won't say no when his fingers had already slipped into your underwear, where you were all wet and ready for him. You pulled away from his kiss and gasped too loudly. “No, Jensen! Don't you dare to..” he clasped one hand onto your mouth to shut you up. “Damnit, baby, you gotta keep your voice down a little bit or I’ll have to stop.” He growled into your ear and pulled away his hand to start pushing down your jeans and underwear. “You don't want me to do that, do you, sweetheart?” he asked when he moved up again and raised one of your freed legs onto the table to have better access to your pussy.

“No, please, Jay, I want you to-” he gave you a quick kiss. “I know, just a second.” He left you there standing for a second to get himself out of his pants. He spat into his hand to lube up his cock, even though you were drenched already. He came to stand behind you again and you could feel his erection sliding between your folds, but instead of pushing inside you, he took the tie from the table and folded it up. “Open up.” He brought it up to your lips. “So you wouldn't scream too loudly.” He added with a grin. You took the tie between your teeth, biting down on it hard when Jensen suddenly pushed himself in. “Mmm..mmhh.” He didn't even give you a chance to get used to him, but started pounding hard into you. You tried to keep yourself steady on the ground, but with one leg it was quite a challenge, and the table under you was too wide to hold on from the edges so you jolted forward with each of his moves.

As he continued pistoning into you, holding you in place with one hand on your shoulder, the other one closed around your throat, squeezing and pulling a deep guttural moan out of you. “Mnhmmck!” Jensen took it as a cry, and stopped moving and quickly released his hand from your neck. “Too much?” He asked, pulling the gag from you. “No…please I want…it harder.” You breathed heavily. He shoved the tie back and buried himself back into you. “Fuck, Y/N, you are just perfect, but we have to be quick now. Don't want them to start looking for us, do we?”

You shook your head. “Mmkh...mm…mmhms.” No words came out through the gag you had, but Jensen understood you perfectly and so your windpipe was closed off again. Your eyes closed in ecstasy, and you reached overhead behind you to find his hair to lock your fingers into.

The edges of your vision began to go white quickly from the air being cut off and Jensen's moves started to falter, letting you know he was near cumming. “Mm..fuck, Y/N, I'm almost close…but I want you to cum first, understand, baby?” He panted into your ear between his thrusts. “I want to feel you cumming all over my cock. I want you to remember this, when we're coming back to work tomorrow with Jared and Felicia and sit at this table. Just remember how I filled you up..”

You tried to moan, but even that wasn't possible with your throat closed off by his large hand, so you just tightened your grip in his hair, making Jensen groan as a result. He saw you were close to your climax and moved his hand from your neck to your mouth, knowing that with the first gasp of air you were going to fall off the edge.

You inhaled loudly through your nose and wanted to scream, but on top of the gag, his hand was also muffling all your cries, as he fucked you roughly through your orgasm. “Let it all out, baby..let it go..” he whispered into your ear, still moving fast in you, chasing after his own release.

Your whimpers started to die down as you were coming off your high. After a few last quick moves, Jensen pushed deep inside you, his cock throbbing hard as his cum covered your walls. “Fuck!” He leaned over you and searched for support from the table. Finally you pulled the tie out of your mouth. “Baby, that was so fucking perfect..” you whispered breathlessly. “But we gotta go now.”

Both of you got quickly dressed and searched for your way out, without being caught. You tried to composure yourself, not to seem suspicious, but you knew your flushed cheeks and breathlessness was not easy to hide.

“Where were you two? We've been waiting for ages!” Jared started to complain as soon as he saw you two approaching the car.

“You were not! Y/N and I just had to have a quick chat.” Jared threw a quick look at you as you and Jensen climbed into the backseat. “Yeah, right! And that couldn't wait until you get home, where you two live together? Alone? Not a single pair of eyes around?” Jared started teasing and Jensen wasn't having any of it.

“Shut up! Clif, let's just go.”

Jared looked over his shoulder to the backseat. “I don't know, Y/N, it looks like you two need to have another talk at home.” To this remark even Jensen bursted out laughing. “Oh, we will, don't you worry about that.” He chuckled and winked at you.

Taglist: @jackles010378 @deanwinchestersgirl87 @alternativeprincess94 @il0vebeingdelulu

#jensen ackles #jensen ackles smut #jensen x female!reader smut #jensen x female!reader #x you #jensen x y/n #jensen ross ackles #smut

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boxofbonesfic · 2 years

Note

I can't stop thinking of possessive fire fighter Thor 😌🥴

welp, nonnie, now I can’t either. maybe you weren’t thinking quite this dark, but… 😅

Title: Everloving

Pairing: Dark!Thor x Reader

Summary: A one night stand has worse consequences than you ever could have imagined.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Arson, Noncon, Kidnapping, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Implied Basement-Wife, Stalking, Breeding, Darkfic, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, Minors DNI!

[divider by @firefly-graphics]

You stare at the ceiling over his shoulder as you catch your breath, your fingernails still dug hard into the muscles rippling beneath his skin. You’re still spiraling back down into yourself when he pulls back, leaning up on his elbows to grin dopily at you. His blond hair falls handsomely across his face, and the corners of his bright blue eyes are crinkled with his smile.

“See, Peach?” Thor says with a wink, his breath still a little short. “Told you I would take you to Valhalla.”

You raise a hand to your head, fingers curling in your hair as you laugh breathlessly. It’s a corny joke—and it was even cornier when he’d fed you the pick-up line in the bar, complete with his sultry little every girl needs a firefighter, Peach. It had been so corny you’d been left wondering if it was specifically engineered to get you to laugh yourself into his bed, but the earnest look on his face makes you second-guess your two minute drunk assessment. The firefighter’s uniform he’d told you about is hung up on the back of the door, too, lending credence to his honesty.

“Why is that funnier the second time?” You say, and he laughs. He eases up off of you, and your cheeks heat as you feel him slip out of your puffy, still throbbing cunt. You sit up, pulling his blanket up over your bare chest self-consciously. Thor, it seems, is just as glorious in nudity as he is clothed, back muscles rippling as he turns to the closet, and pulls out a hand towel to clean himself off. You hear a tinny sounding thud as he tosses the condom into the trash-can next to his desk. He offers you a towel and you take one, hurriedly swiping between your own thighs.

“Do you want to shower?” He asks over his shoulder. “My roommate’s won’t be back for a few hours, so if you wanted to shower and crash—”

“That’s okay,” You say quickly, snatching your shirt off of the back of his desk chair, using his blanket as a somewhat unconventional toga while you shimmy into it. “I should get going, it’s pretty late.” You flash him an apologetic smile as you tug up your jeans. “I wouldn’t want to be a bother.”

“No, it’s totally fine, they won’t mind. And maybe tomorrow we could get breakfast—”

“I don’t think so,” you say stiffly. “I’ve got work in the morning.”

“Right, right,” he laughs a little awkwardly, stepping back into his briefs. The elastic snaps as he pulls them back up around his waist. “Well, maybe we could go out another time?”

You answer him with a shake of your head. “Sorry, I just, um….” You blow out a breath, rocking back and forth on your heels nervously. “I’m not like… looking for a relationship. Right now.” You smile apologetically. “I just, you know. Just got out of one, and it was a whole thing, and I just… I’m not ready, right now for another commitment like that.” His face falls, the boyish grin on his face disappearing as he regards you.

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry,” you say again, feeling the tension thick in the air between you. “I um. I had fun.”

“Yeah. Me too.” A look you can’t read crosses his face, and he lifts his hand to the back of his neck, rubbing it. He doesn’t say anything else as you shrug back into your jacket and flee his room, navigating back down the dark hallway toward the door. Your sneakers are in a messy heap by the front door where you left them, and you step into them quickly, eager to be out of his apartment.

You pull up your rideshare app as you walk down the block, trying to put a little distance between yourself and Thor before you call. For some reason, you don’t want to do it right outside, not that you think he’d watch you through the window like some creeper—

Or would he?

Either way, you call when you’ve reached the bodega on the end of his block, and in five minute Jeffery in a white Hyundai Sonata is pulling up to the curb.

Omw home. Your text pops into the roommate groupchat, and it’s not thirty seconds before you see three different speech bubbles appear in the bottom left corner.

Heather: girl. it’s one-am!!!!

Bobbie: girl shut up, she was getting her back blown out by that hot blond lmao

Heather: twisted into pretzels lolll

Kirsten: none of you are asking the real questions. how was it???????

You stifle your laughter with your hands, glancing at the rearview mirror before responding.

I will be home in ten minutes. You all will just have to wait. You are, of course, greeted by shrill giggles and questions the moment you walk through the door. You deliver the details as painlessly as you can muster, choosing not to describe the heartbroken look on Thor’s face when you’d tried to let him down as gently as you could.

“I mean, you’re totally right. You shouldn’t jump into anything so quick, not after Jimmy.” Bobbie nods sagely at you in approval.

“I dunno. He seemed sweet,” Kirsten says dreamily. “Might be a nice guy.”

“He was looking for a serious girlfriend, K,” you reply, stretching as you turn toward your room. “And I am not doing serious right now. Bobbie’s right.”

After a hot shower, you flop tiredly onto your bed and burrow under the covers. You’re still a little sore from earlier, and you bite your lip, wondering if you’d made a mistake. No harm in letting him shoot his shot, right? That’s what Heather had told you in the bar when he’d first begun sending you drinks, and what had rung in your head when your casual conversation had become boldly flirtatious.

There are plenty of other fish in the sea for him. You turn over, pressing your face gratefully into the pillow, confident that by tomorrow morning, Thor wouldn’t even remember your name.

——

The smell of smoke wakes you, only seconds before Bobbie is hurriedly shaking you awake.

“Fire! Fire get up now!”

Blearily you sit up, registering the shrill beeps of the fire-alarm just before you choke on thick, hot smoke. It’s filling the room, curling against the ceiling as you sit up, shoving your feet into your slippers. Bobbie’s hand is tight around yours as the two of you race for the door, followed by Heather and Kirsten. The hallway is filled with the other residents, everyone rushing out of the building in a crushing stampede. You’re dizzy, your throat hoarse and your eyes red and watering as you and your roommates watch your lives billow up into the night sky.

The street outside is chaos as the firetrucks arrive, men in uniform pushing through the crowd. You’re still staring numbly at your burning apartment building when large hands land on your shoulders.

“Peach? Peach you okay?” Thor pushes up his visor, his face filled with worry.

“She’s inhaled a lot of smoke, she was the last to get out,” Bobbie says worriedly. You’re forced to agree—every breath feels raw, like you’d swallowed some of the fire yourself. “Is there an ambulance coming?”

“Yes, there is, but if it’s that bad, I should take her to the hospital now,” He says, snapping his visor back down. Thor’s grip is like iron as he steers you towards the back of one of the small response vehicles, and he hands you an oxygen mask and a little tank. “Breathe through this for a little while, Peach. You’ll feel better in no time.”

The street is clogged with vehicles, and Thor steers patiently around them while you sit in the back and try to catch your breath. The smell of the fire, the lights and the sound of sirens fade gradually behind you as you watch the building disappear in the rearview mirror. Eventually, all you can see is the thick column of smoke curling into the still dark sky in the distance as Thor gets onto the highway. His blue eyes meet yours in the mirror.

“How are you feeling?” He asks. The oxygen is certainly helping, though you aren’t sure if you’re supposed to be feeling quite this light and giggly. Oxygen deprivation makes you high right? Or is that something else?

“Like I almost got barbecued,” you say, lowering the mask. A hoarse laugh escapes you. “Sorry. But I did almost die.”

He smiles at you in the mirror. “It’s alright. A bit of morbid humor is to be expected.” You realize with a glance out of the window that you’re far past the hospital. It isn’t funny, but you giggle. In fact, he’ll be out of the city limits in another few minutes. “Besides, It’s probably the nitrous.” You squint at him.

“What?”

“Nitrous Oxide, Peach. In the canister.” He winks at you, though he’s spinning in the rearview—or is it my head? Your limps are limp and uncooperative as you tug at the mask, gasping for air as your vision tunnels. You get it off, but it isn’t enough, and you gape at the air like a fish as you try to swallow it down into your lungs.

Your ears are ringing, and black spots dance in your vision as you slump sideways over in the seat. The roof of the car swims in and out of focus as you gulp down lungful after lungful of air. You don’t know how long Thor’s been driving when he pulls over—twenty minutes? Thirty? But your head is still buzzing, your vision unfocused when Thor opens the back door.

“I am sorry you got hurt, Peach,” he says, managing to sound disgustingly apologetic as he reaches for you. You kick at him, but he’s so big and so coordinated and you are not, and he presses you to the seat, hovering over you like he had earlier this evening. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

His admission drags a ragged sob from your throat as your eyes widen. You wail, your struggles renewing themselves until you’re exhausted. Thor remains immoveable above you, like your efforts have done nothing but delay, and perhaps irritate him.

“You set the fire.” He doesn’t deny it.

“Magnesium shavings and alcohol.” He taps the tip of your nose with a finger. “I like you so much, Peach. I just… I couldn’t watch you go out again with someone else.” He catches both of your wrists in one large hand and pins them to the seat beneath you.

“T-Thor,” your voice comes out as a hoarse whisper. “S-stop, I—”

He hushes you with a kiss, moaning as he slips his tongue into your mouth. You whimper into his mouth and he swallows it hungrily, sucking your lower lip between his teeth and worrying it until it swells.

“I just want to start over,” he repeats your words from the bar, hours—a lifetime—ago back to you, dark sincerity dripping from every word. “Pick up and start over—”

“Shut up!” You cry, tears welling in your frightened eyes. “You don’t know me!”

“Maybe not yet,” he hums, dragging his lips down the salty tracks over the curve of your cheek. “But we have time.” The fingers of his free hand slip beneath the loose elastic waistband of your pajama pants to cup your bare pussy. He heaves a pleased sigh. “No panties? Peach you are truly a treasure.” He parts your lips with sure, unhurried motions, his fingers sliding through your folds.

You try to close your thighs around his hand, but he doesn’t let you, wedging himself between your thighs.

“P-please, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings—” You babble apologies that he doesn’t seem to hear, his touches ironically soft and unhurried. “Thor please—!” His lips crush against yours again, turning the words into a frightened squeak.

“What’s the matter, Peach?” He asks, trailing down your jaw and over your pulse point. “Nothing we haven’t done before.” Thor’s pleased little hum makes shame curl in your belly. You’re wet. You know you are, and you hate yourself for it as he draws his fingers back and forth, spreading the slick through your folds with practiced ease. “See? She even remembers me.”

Thor circles your entrance with gentle strokes, and you huff through your teeth to hide the whine that threatens to tumble from your lips. You hate him, his soft persistent kisses, the drag of his fingers through your traitorously aching folds. You hate it because it feels good, because he’s making it feel good, because it feels like you’re shattering into a thousand fractured shards in his capable hands, and you get the feeling that he wants you to.

Can’t fix what isn’t broken.

You whimper at the burning stretch of his fingers, the heel of his palm grinding deliciously against your clit. When you clench your teeth against the pleasure, Thor clucks his tongue at you.

“Let it feel good, Peach,” he coos, scissoring his fingers inside of you. Your breath hitches loudly in your throat, and Thor moans deeply at the sight, leaning down to suck a bruise onto your collarbone. “You don’t have to be in control anymore. You can let go.” He mumbles the words darkly against your skin as you feel his hips shift up.

“You can just let me—” Thor reaches between your bodies, tugging the band of his briefs down over the thick shaft of his cock. “Do the thinking for both of us.” He groans as it pops out from under the elastic, slapping against the puffy, slick lips of your pussy.

Thor’s lips part in a soft “o” as he slides his cock back and forth, eyes rolling up to stare sightlessly through the roof of the car. His fingers dig into the fleshy curve of your hip, the other forcing your wrists down harder into the seat cushion. Tears are leaking out of the corners of your eyes and running down into your hair, acceptance settling like lead as you realize this is happening.

The head of his cock throbs hard as he pushes it against your swollen clit. You push down on the pleasure as hard as you can, trying not to let it show on your face. It’s useless though, as your thighs begin to tremble around his hips from the steady pressure at your clit. You writhe, trying in vain to buck him off. You only succeed in pushing yourself against him, pleasure rolling in sticky warm waves up your spine.

“N-no, ah—” You’re cumming then, your words are lost in the choked sob that tightens your throat. Cheeks flush with heat, you turn tear-filled eyes to Thor’s. He looks at you with an manic kind of joy, his fever bright eyes drinking in every detail. Your pussy is still throbbing, clenching tightly around nothing when Thor begins to line the head of his cock up with your cunt. He sinks in slowly, cursing as you squeeze down around him.

“Better with no condom, isn’t it Peach?” He says hoarsely, chuckling. “Not that that one made much of a difference,” Thor sinks in to the base, the heavy weight of his balls slapping wetly against you as he revels in the feel of you. “Poked it full of holes, just in case.”

He doesn’t give you time to mull over the words before he’s sliding out, sparks shooting in front of your open eyes as his cock drags along your walls. Thor groans as he fills you again, loosing your wrists so that he can anchor you to him with both hands. There is room in your foggy head for shame, but it does nothing to stop the sticky sweet rush of pleasure as he fucks into you with abandon, the truck rocking hard with his efforts.

What’s worse is that you can hear it, the lewd wet noise it makes as he slides into your welcoming cunt. You whine low in your throat as he pinches your clit between two fingers, rolling it back and forth until you’re twitching underneath him. Thor laughs.

“See?” He asks breathlessly. “And you say I don’t know you.” He leans down to kiss you again, swallowing the pathetic little cry you let out as he drags you over the edge. You hate that he’s all around you, in you, everywhere, filling you up until you’re overflowing.

When you cum, again it’s with Thor’s tongue in your mouth, and his throbbing cock in your cunt. He moans against your lips as his hips still, and dimly, you’re aware of slow, sticky heat settling in your core. He doesn’t move, his body pinning you to the seat. When he finally leans away, you try your best to pull your t-shirt back down over your bare breasts, staring stubbornly at the back of the front seat.

“Oh, Peach, don’t be mad at me,” he says, tucking his fingers beneath your chin. He pulls until it hurts, and you’re forced to look at him. You hate that he’s still inside of you, his cum leaking out to pool on the seat underneath your ass. He reaches down beneath the seat for something, but you can’t quite see it. “We’re going to be so good together.”

He produces the nitrous tank and mask, and your eyes widen with fear as you begin to struggle. It isn’t hard for him to push it against your face, though, and you hear a squeak as he twists open the valve. The gas rushes into the mask with a hiss, and it only takes a few panicked breaths before your vision begins to dim.

“You’ll see.”

end

Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️

#chris hemsworth fanfiction #chris hemsworth smut #thor odinson #thor odinson fanfiction #thor odinson smut #dark!thor odinson #dark thor #dark!thor #thor x reader #thor odinson x reader #thor x you #thor odinson x you #thor smut #thor fanfiction #darkfic #dark #boxofbonesfic #Everloving fic

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apollyonsdarksecrets · 1 year

Text

The Contract

Aaron Hotchner X F!Reader

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven

Summery: She’s reserved, emotionally cut off, and spiraling down a dark path; one she can’t get out of on her own. Aaron Hotchner may be her only help, but at what cost? When he shows up to her hotel room, contact in hand, she realizes it may be more than what she bargained for.

Over All Warnings: 18 + Only, MDNI, SMUT. Language, typical CM violence, childhood trauma, abusive(mentally) father figure, does not line up with a specific time line, flip flops between 3rd and 2nd POV, so use of Y/n. BDSM Dynamics, contract, Dom! Aaron Hotchner, Sub! Reader, emotional detachment, reader is not good at taking care of herself, Age gap (Reader 25 Arron 40), explicit Smut detailed in chapters. This is a series 😅

A/N: listen y’all, Aaron Hot Hotchner has had me in a choke hold, I wish, since the moment I laid eyes on him. It’s only fitting he gets some love.

15 Years Ago

Her hands sting with little paint splinters, their jagged edges imbedding deeper each time her fists connect with the door. She gasps around another harsh sob, her eyes squeezed shut against the blinding darkness surrounding her. “Please daddy! Let me out!” She begs desperately, her small voice cracking. The door violently rattles back with a deafening crack, making her stumble back. She falls into the sink, clutching at its porcelain surface to stop herself.

“Shut the fuck up!” Her father’s guttural voice fills the confined space of the restroom, “The longer you cry the longer you’ll stay in there!” His words are slurred from the deers he’d had with his dinner, combined with the six he’d consumed during the day.

“Please daddy, I-I’m sorry.”

The only reply is the vibration of his heavy boots as he storms down the hall, shaking the old house. She presses her hand to her mouth, muffling her cries as she dares a peek at her surroundings. A pitch black void greets her, no light to be seen, not even from the bottom of the door. Blindly she feels around, the sink to her right, the rusted toilet to her left. Sinking to her knees she wedges herself in the space between them, pulling her legs to her chest and wrapping thin arms around them.

She rests her head against the column of the sink, every small noise making her jump and squirm, her young imagination running wild. Hot tears cascade down her cheeks, getting caught in the hairs stuck to her face before sliding down her throat, finally drenching the neck of her night gown.

5 Years Ago

“Congratulations! You have worked extremely hard to get here, and I can see great potential in your future working here with the FBI.” The Superintendent, a short stocky man, who’s suit is a size too big, holds out his hand to the woman across from him. She’s schooled her features into a mask of calm and restraint. She shakes his hand firmly, quick and to the point.

“Thank you, sir. This is an opportunity of a life time for me, I do not wish to squander it.” Just barely, if he had blinked he would have missed it, does her lips twitch up at the corners. She’s dressed very plainly, black blouse with grey dress pants. The nicest clothing she owns in her sparse closet.

“You’ll be stationed close to home, for now. With high marks such as yours though, I can’t see you staying long should you request a transfer.” Turning the older man retrieves a small black badge book from his mahogany desk, her eyes trained on his movements with restrained elation. “Your credentials, Agent Smit.”

2 Years Ago

Jennifer Jareau, or JJ as she requested to be called, brings the young woman into the heart of the Quantico department. Her eyes are bright, turning slowly as she walks taking in every inch of the Bull Pen.

“It can be a little intimidating the first time, but you get use to it.” The blond smiles with a soft laugh, a stack of folders pressed to her chest as she tails behind. “It’s just this way to your desk.” She points towards an empty half cubical, the plain desk void of anything other than a computer and a gold name plate, displaying the name ‘Y/n Smith’.

“Thank you, JJ, for taking the time to show me around.” Y/n turns with a genuine smile, setting her purse and bag down on the small rolling chair.

JJ waves her hand dismissively, shaking her head. “It’s not a problem, I remember how it felt coming in here a bit green behind the ears. I’m glad to help, anytime.” Her blue eyes flicker over Y/n’s shoulder, her smile faltering. Y/n turns around, finding a stoic looking man staring down at them from the landing above. He’s wearing a fitted navy suit, raven black hair styled neatly yet a few strands still fall across his forehead. His brown eyes are hard and imposing.

“We have a case.” His voice is deep and smooth, like a fine whiskey, an air of superiority lacing those four simple words. His stance gives him away, hands resting on his hips and chin held high, let’s her know he must be the one in charge.

“SSA Aaron Hotchner this is Agent Y/n Smith.” JJ begins but he holds up his hand, his face hard and set with an unwavering determination.

“I’m aware of who this is, and what you are here to do. Gather the team and meet on the plane. We will debrief there.” And with that he’s gone.

Y/n turns to JJ, her mouth age slightly. “Is he… always like this?”

JJ forces a sympathetic smile, “Unfortunately, yes. But he means well. Come I’ll show you where we need to go.”

3 Months Ago

“How do you do it?” Garcia blurts the question out in the middle of the room, all eyes turning to look at her at once. Her cheeks grow a little darker under her blush as she realizes just how loud she had been.

“Do what?” Y/n asks back, spinning around in one of the chairs circling the table in the conference room. The team had just landed forty minutes ago, everyone decompressing with coffee and donuts, generously gifted to them by the bubbling blond herself. Y/n takes another sip of her black coffee as she waits.

“I’ve never seen you cry.”

The question startles Y/n momentarily, her mind going on the defense as she tries to come up with a suitable answer. Opening her mouth she closes it again as Reid begins, “Ya know she’s right. We work a lot of hard cases but you stay pretty stoic.”

Turning to the rest of the team she glances over their curious faces, her gaze snagging on Hotch. His eyebrow is cocked, but otherwise his expression is impassive, impossible to guess what he is thinking. He holds her stare, almost with a hint of a challenge and despite herself she drops her gaze first, clearing her throat.

“I-I don’t know. Just got a good emotional switch, is all.” Y/n shrugs her shoulder, tapping her fingers against the side of the mug resting between her palms. The heat is nice, seeing as the weather is turning and winter is right around the corner, the office is cold having been shut down for hours now, the clock on the wall reading 1 am.

“Some say that the reason others don’t cry as often or as much is because they are repressing their own emotions, or have a hard time connecting with them. Some just don’t have tear ducts.” She glares at Reid, that smart brain of his going to get him in trouble. Emily scoffs and turns on him in your defense, hand resting on her hip.

“Spencer.” She says his name drawn out and scolding, making him slouch slightly in his seat, appearing sheepish. Y/n holds up her hands, coming to Boy Wonders rescue.

“It’s fine, really though I’m just good at detaching myself, emotionally, from the situation. Emotions are frivolous things that can get in the way of an investigation.” She shrugs her shoulder, her demeanor convincing them she is uncaring of the topic.

“Titanic.” Derek suddenly pipes up. “I bet she cries at Titanic.”

The group laughs, Y/n forcing out one of her own as her heart starts to pound in her chest. Morgan and Emily turn on Spencer, lecturing him about what is appropriate to state facts about, while JJ and Garcia begin to clean up. Slowly chatter and shuffling turns to white noise, a ringing in Y/n’s ears filling their place.

She stares down at the table, shifting in her seat as she tries to squash the rising anxiety. Memories, harsh and bitter like her coffee, pelt her; her chest tightening uncomfortably. All the whole Aaron’s watchful gaze never leaves her face, her mask of indifference and solidarity cracking the longer she sits across from him.

Present Day

You stare out the window of your hotel room, the city is shrouded in darkness but there’s the eternal glow of the night life that makes the inky blackness not so suppressing. Chewing absently at your thumb nail you sway on your feel, comforting yourself with the gentle motion. Today had been hard, grueling and long, but in the end the good guys came out on top.

A knock at your door startles you out of your thoughts, your body stilling and instinctively your eyes travel to your gun resting on the end table. 3am is a little late for a visitor. Another knock spurs you into actions and you cross the shaggy green carpet to the door. Peaking through the peep whole your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you step back, pulling the door open with you.

Aaron Hotchner stands in the threshold, still wearing his suit from earlier minute the blazer. The off white compliments his complexion and raven hair. “Hotch?”

“You’re awake.” He doesn’t sound surprised, more so relieved.

“So are you.” You keep the door pressed to your body, concealing the thin tank top and sweatpants you’ve dressed in for bed.

“Yes, I am.” He looks past you into the small room before gesturing to it. “May I come in?”

You bite your lip, eyeing around him down the deserted hallway before nodding. “Yes, of course.” He steps in full and you close the door, turning quickly to the chair across the room, grabbing your jacket. You pull it on, zipping it part of the way before turning back to your boss. He’s looking around, that part of his brain he can never turn off analyzing every inch.

“So… what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask, going back to the spot you’d spent most of the night occupying.

“I wanted to let you know the hospital called. Jenny is going to be just fine.” He watches as your shoulders sink, a breath blowing through your nose as you visibly relax.

“That’s… That’s great to hear. Thank you.”

Jenny Campell, the 9 year old little girl abducted by her father, who was held hostage for two weeks in a remote part of Boston. She was severely dehydrated and would likely have lasting psychological problems from the abuse her father put her through; but she was alive, and the good guys had won.

“I wanted to talk to you… about the house.” Aaron’s head tilts slightly, as it always does when he’s approaching a subject he thinks may cause someone some uncomfort. You hold his gaze, crossing your arms over your chest, confused by where this could be going. Aaron clears his throat before he begins. “How did you know to look for a secret door?”

6 Hours Earlier

The house was dank smelling, clouds of dust swirled through the rays of light coming from the flash lights of the officers ahead of you. The house has been cleared, but something was missing, Charles Campell said his daughter was here, but where?

You circle back into the smallest bedroom, the voices of Hotch and Morgan floating through the open door as they try to discuss a new plan. The room was littered with trash, a twin sized bed sits in one corner, a large oak wardrobe opposite it. Children’s drawings adorn the peeling walls, and a dusty pink sign hangs above the bed frame, ‘Jenny Girl’.

You step closer to the armoire, newspapers and takeout boxes crunching under foot, as you shine your light over the furniture. It’s new, newer than anything else in the entire house making it stand out against the decay. It isn’t until you’re right beside it do you notice the scratches along the lime green paint.

The realization dawns on your like a bucket of ice water being thrown in your face and before you know it your yelling for your team mates. “Here! Hotch!” Your put your weight into the side of the wardrobe, pushing with everything you have as the two men rush into the room.

Morgan runs for the other side, pulling as Hotch takes up the space behind you, his arms caging you in as he pushes. The three of you move it easily, a small door, presumably to a crawl space, appears in the wall and you rush to pull it open. Morgan covers you with his gun drawn, giving you a nod to go before you yank the door open.

There, curled up in her side, is the little blond girl you all have been searching for. “Medic!” Hotch screams from above you, as you quickly moves towards the girl. She small and light, her hair matted and dirty like her blue night gown. You presses your fingers to the girls throat, a weak pulse answering.

~*~*~*~

“Y/n?” Hotch snaps you out do your thoughts, and you shake your head, clearing yourself of the memory.

“Sorry… I just… I knew there was something there, I won’t say I could sense it but my gut hasn’t lead me wrong, thus far.” Aaron nods, waiting to see if you will continue. “Charles isn’t a lier, his motivation for taking her were simple, revenge on her mother. Make her squirm and give him more parental rights. He never assumed she would get the police involved. Much less the FBI.”

“Jenny’s father is not only a drug user but a heavy drinker. Everything he had done was under the influence and when he was captured, and the substances in his system wore off he had gaps in his memories of what he did with Jenny. Explaining why he couldn’t tell us exactly where she was, just that she was at the house.” Hotch finishes for you.

“Exactly.” You pause, eyeing him over. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, in fact you did amazing in the field today. You worked out the clue no one else could’ve, and if it wasn’t for you there is no telling if we would have found Jenny in time. I’m extremely proud of you.” His praise makes something in your chest stir without your permission. Your clear your throat to speak, but he cuts you off. “But you didn’t answer my question. How did you know there would be a door behind the wardrobe?”

Your palms suddenly feel clammy, nervousness making your spine straighten. “I don’t know what you-.”

“You do realize I am the one that goes through ever personnel file before someone is permitted to work with my team, correct?” His voice doesn’t have that hard edge like it normally holds, in fact his entire demeanor is soft, calming. Almost like he’s trying to comfort a wounded animal.

You are the animal.

“Where are you going with this?”

“I know about your father, Y/n. I have seen the police reports, and I know you take cases with children very seriously and hold them close to your heart.” He takes a step forward and instinctively you move back, a look of hurt washing over his features. “I need you to tell me if you are alright, if this case was to much for you.”

~*~*~*~

The red lights of the ambulance quickly fade away through the woods, leaving the house illuminated only by the head lights of the surrounding cop cars. Aaron is removing his vest as he walks around watching as people file in and out of the house taping and marking things off.

He stops by the van, pulling the door open and throwing his vest inside, when he notices a figure standing off by themselves. He squints into the darkness along the side of the house, the person is hunched over, hands on their knees as their shoulder shake subtly. He scans the people around him, finding Morgan by the entrance to the house, on the phone with the rest of the team and the other 5 officers are accounted for. That leaves only you.

Slowly he moves closer just barely making out the sounds of you muffled crying over the noises of the others. Concern wipes through his body like lightning but before he can move any farther Morgan is yelling his name, startling you in the process.

You straighten up quickly, wiping your face with your jacket sleeves and Aaron retreats towards the others. Giving you your space without the fear of embarrassment of being caught.

~*~*~*~

Your face burns, cheeks bright pink. You open your mouth then close it again, a mixture of emotions tumbling around inside you.

Embarrassment, anger, hatred, regret, longing to finally let it all go. None of which are directly targeted at your boss but he’s the only thing in sight.

“How dare you.” You seethe, letting anger take over because it’s the easiest to roll with. “Don’t come to my room at all hours of the morning, trying to… to… get something out of me.” Your anger propels you forward and you find yourself inches in front of Hotch. He holds his ground, his hands moving to rest on his hips and you break eye contact long enough to glance at them.

“I’m asking you if you are alright.” Aaron’s voice has dropped, the timber low and you can’t help but like the sound of it. There’s no denying Aaron is a handsome man, but there’s always denying your feelings.

“I’m. Fine.” You ground out.

“Your lying to me.”

“Hotc-“

“Sweetheart.” The nickname catches you off guard, your eyes widening with surprise, breath trapped in your throat. Aaron takes the opportunity, his large hands cupping your face, giving you no other choice but to keep eye contact even as your body stiffens and a look of almost pain flashes across your face. “I know you’re lying to me because I am good at my job and so is everyone else here. You think we haven’t noticed your apprehension when it comes to a dark room? Or the way you always stand closer to the other females in the room, even if it’s just Spencer?”

Your hands find their way to his wrists, tugging but he stays firm, he isn’t hurting you but he’s going to make you listen. “Sto-.”

“Youre to comfortable placating than possibly rocking the boat for yourself. You never finish a cup of coffee because you hate it plain, you’d rather wonder around a new building than bother someone to ask where a room is, you dont open up to a single person because of your anxiety.” Hurt is written clearly on your features, hurt mixed with anger but before you can say anything Aaron steams ahead. “With that being said, you are one of my best profilers. I’ve seen you take on men twice your size and never bat a lash. Behavior like this doesn’t just come from nowhere. Something happened to you that made you this way.”

That unwelcoming pressure behind your eyes begins to overwhelm you, much like Aaron’s presence, his cologne infiltrating your nose with each ragged inhale. “What do you care? I’ve done just fine with how I am by myself, I don’t need you digging around for answers that will have no impact on you whatsoever.” Your voice comes out softer than you would have liked, making you hate yourself more.

“I care,” He emphasizes with a stroke of his thumb across your cheek, a foreign feeling on your skin. “Because I can not sit back and watch you hurt yourself like this.”

You scoff, trying again to pull away, managing to take a few steps back only for him to follow. A hand slips to the back of your neck, hot and heavy, holding you firmly in place. “You’re being dramatic, Hotchner.”

“When was the last time you ate?”

Eyebrows furrowing in confusion, you open your mouth only to realize you aren’t sure. “I… I had a snack in the car. On the way here.” It’s a lame excuse, and he sees right through it.

“I want to make you an offer.” His brown eyes search your face, the anger turning into confusion.

“An offer?”

“Yes, I’d like for you to hear me out before you make a decision. Okay?”

“If it means you will let me go, then yes.” You give his wrists one last tug and he relents, but not before giving your neck a final squeeze. You move until your back is against the window, the cold night air seeping through the glass and into your jacket.

Aaron sits down in the only chair before gesturing to the bed, “Why don’t you sit.” It’s more of a command than it is a suggestion, making you root to your spot, giving him your best disgruntled look that rivals his on a good day. Sighing he leans his elbows against his knees, scrubbing a hand across his face. He looks tired, the wear and tear off the job showing more and more. Dark circles from a lack of sleep, a few new greeting hairs You could have sworn weren’t there when this case began.

“Well?” You snap, throwing your hand up before letting it drop against your thigh. Aarons eyes slowly lift to yours, a look you are unfamiliar with lurking under his features as he reaches behind himself, pulling a folded piece of paper you hadn’t noticed before from his back pocket. He tosses it onto the bed and a thousand possibilities run through your mind all at once. Leave of absence? Demotion? Pink slip? “Hotch…”

“Go on. It isn’t going to bite you, honey.” He let’s a little bit of humor color his words and you shoot him a glare. You close the distance, snatching it off of the bed and unfolding it to realize it’s a few sheets stapled together. Your eyes nearly double their size, mouth falling open as you read the header.

‘Consent of Submission.’

Paragraphs make up the first page, the words jumbling together as you try to make sense of where this is heading. The next page is filled with bullet points, titled ‘Rules’. Eat three full meals a day, go to bed at an appropriate time, check in with how you are feeling; to name a few.

As you continue to stare at the paper, confusion and distraught winning the war of emotions on your face, Aaron begins speaking. “It’s a contract, between you and I. It will help you properly take care of your self and I will help enforce it.

“‘Submission’? Aaron… This is… What?” You begin to tremble with a vengeance, forcing you to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Yes, it will help you learn to regain some control over your trauma and your everyday life. It will help with the anxiety, depression, and emotional detachment you are facing.” He speaks so surely, like he has done this before, and maybe he has.

“You mean it will help you control me.” Your accusation doesn’t phase him, in fact he looks to calm for the situation. His long legs are stretched out in front of him, leaning back in his seat with his head propped on his first. A complete opposite juxtaposition to yourself.

“In a sense, it’s power exchange. Nothing happens without your explicit consent, which gives you the power in what we do. Where I have the power is how we navigate those consents, what we do, where we do it, and how.” He takes a deep breath, giving you a gentle smile. “I’ve found people in your type of situation benefited greatly from being able to let their brains turn off, not have to over think every step of the day. Just exist and let someone else… Take care of them.”

“And if I say I don’t want to sign this?” You slam the papers back on the bed, more to hide your shaking hands than anything.

“Then I will have you go to therapy within the BAU system.” He shrugs his shoulder feigning indifference, even though his heart is thumping wildly. He thought the days of this life style were behind him, no longer needed, but the moment you turned up on the plane, he knew. Your lips were pressed into a tight smile, your body language screaming how uncomfortable you were seated between Derek and Rossi, though you desperately tried to mimic the calm demeanor surrounding you. Something stirred awake in his chest that morning, and he’s just been bidding his time every since.

Your stomach churns, weighing out your options. Somehow the latter seems worse. You run your hands into your hair, blowing out a breath. “I’m not submissive Aaron, you know this. This job requires to much for this to be a possibility. I don’t… I don’t see how it could work.”

“I’m not saying you aren’t, but I think there are things you haven’t learned about yourself yet. As for our job this is not apart of that, this is separate. We will just be ourselves, nothing out of the ordinary.” He says all of this so sincerely, a part of you wants to trust him. But the part of you that says no one is to be trusted squares your shoulders.

“What do you want in exchange? How do I know you won’t use this as black mail, or some chip to hold over my head?

His eyebrows raise in surprise. “Sweetheart, There’s nothing I want in exchange, I’m trying to help you. Is that so hard to believe?”

“Yes.” You answer before you can even give it thought. Deflect, shut it down, move on. How you handle any sort of situation that strikes a little to close to home, that tries to dig out your weaknesses like he is doing now.

Aaron prepared for this, knew you would meet him with head on resistance, but also knew with the choices given what you would pick. You’ve gone back to staring at the papers, the wheels in your head turning at full force. He can guess within reason what you might be thinking, he had that same look on his face when he was introduced to the lifestyle all those years ago.

“Y/n.” Your eyes dart up to his, large and uncertain. “Give me a month, just one. If it doesn’t help, if it’s too much, then we call it quits.”

“Just one?” You echo back, Aaron nodding. He stands from his seat, large hand stretched out, palm facing the sky. This is crazy, wrong on so many levels. Not to mention the amount of trouble you both could end up in if someone so happen to come across this. Every fiber of your being screams the sentiment. But it’s your heart, though it bruises your ribs, that makes you place your hand in his. Aaron gently pulls you to your feet, making sure you have your balance before letting go.

“Go wash your face, then I want you in bed. You need to sleep.” Instantly you want to rebel against the order, the phrase ‘you don’t control me’ coming to mind but instead you turn on your heel. “Good girl.”

You can hear the smirk in his voice and your shoulders tense up, but you force yourself to walk into the restroom, closing the door a little to hard. You turn to the mirror, a woman with scarlet red cheeks stares back at you and you huff. What are you doing? Where has your brain gone? Groaning lowly you angrily grab for your face wash.

Coming back out into the room, dabbing at your face with a hand towel, you find the room is lit only by the bedside lamp. Aaron, with the contract in his hands, looks up when he hears you. Your hand tightens around the scratchy white towel as a small smile tugs his lips up. “You look beautiful even without the makeup.”

You roll your eyes, tossing the towel into the small tub behind you. “A very typical male complement, Hotch.” You quip, glancing towards your bed. The covers have been turned down, and there’s a glass of water on the night stand.

“Here.” Aaron holds out a pen, and the paper, suddenly your hands have never been so clammy.

“I thought you said we would just try this for a month. Why do I need to sign?” You skirt around him, fidgeting with your jackets zipper. You can feel your heart beat everywhere, from your fingertips to the bottom of your bare feet.

“To protect us both, either you sign or there’s no deal and you go to therapy.” Skin bristling you spin around, whatever you were about to snap suddenly dissolving on your tongue. His chest is mere inches from your face, forcing you to tilt your head back to look him in the eye. He never seemed this tall from across the room. “You’re wearing my patience thin, little one.” The heady rasp of his voice as he whispers to you makes your stomach clench, for an entirely new reason.

Begrudgingly you take the pen and paper, pressing it to his chest to bear down on as you scrawl out your name on the little line. You notice his signature is already on the other side.“There. Happy?”

He holds your stare for a moment longer, and you think he might say something more before he steps back, taking everything with him. “We will go over everything at breakfast, we have an appointment with Jenny and her mother Clair at noon.”

Your eyebrows come together as he reaches the door, pulling it open. “I thought the teams going home today?”

“They are. I have paper work that needs to be done and you are my only child psychologist. Goodnight, Y/n.” He smiles as he closes the door behind himself, relishing in the shock written on your face.

#smut #apollyonsdarksecrets #criminal minds #criminal minds aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch smut #aaron hotch x reader #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfiction

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brooooswriting · 2 years

Note

Hi! Can I pls request Wednesday x female!reader where reader gives Wednesday a scorpion plushy? I just think it’d be really cute, or as cute as it can be with Wednesday😅❤️

My first Wednesday story😱😱

A Plushy?!

You loved giving gifts, it was your way of showing love. You constantly got Enid new nail polish, Yoko some sunglasses, for Thing you bought new hand cream and every now and then you got some things for Ajax and Bianca when they reminded you of them.

So it was no surprise to anyone when you just had to buy the black scorpion plushy. It was so cute, yet so dark and scary, plus it reminded you of the pet she had when she was a kid. Enid thought the same as you and couldn’t wait to see Wednesdays reaction.

“My love” you called out as you and Enid walked into the dorm to find the black haired girl tipping at her typewriter. “You came back rather quickly” it wasn’t the nicest greeting but hey? You decided to walk into her writing hour. “How long are you gonna keep writing?” You asked as you sat on her bed next to Thing who gave you a nail polish. “20 minutes then I’m all yours” the last part was quieter and barely audible but it still made you smile. “Alright, I’ll paint Things nails in that time”

You were really giddy the whole time signing to Thing what you bought Wednesday and he couldn’t stop “laughing” afterwards. “Thing! That’s not funny! Do you think she’ll hate it!? Maybe I shouldn’t give it to her?!” You never really gifted Wednesday something personal as you were rather scared of her reaction. Sure you got her black nail polish, new black sheets or something like that but never something personal.

“Shouldn’t give me what?” Being so into overthinking you hadn’t noticed that Wednesday stood up and came to you. “I - uhm - well, I got you something… it’s y.. you know- nothing great but…” you started to ramble while getting her present.

Wednesday was confused at first but couldn’t help but beam at the present and even more importantly, you. Sure, she always was this hard, dark and not really friendly person but when it came to you? She was pudding in your hands and the fact that you still remembered the story she told you? It made her little black heart beat faster than it should. “This is certainly something” was the first thing she said, her voice kinda rough. Enid and Thing took that as a sign to leave.

The moment the door closed Wednesdays behavior changed. “He’s really dark, I adore him. Thank you” she mumbled as she sat next to you on her bed, both of your backs against the headrest and the scorpion on her lap.

“Well, he reminded me of what you told me from Nero. I know you don’t really wanna talk about all that but we all need some things that remind us of the past” you told her as you shifted a bit closer. “I don’t know if I want something that reminds me of a time where I wasn’t with you” what came out of you mouth shocked the both of you but at the same time you knew that she meant it. “Well, you have to keep him now, if we bring him back he’ll be sad” you told her laying down on the bed and pulling her with you.

“We won’t bring him back. But You’re kidding right?” You grinned and cuddled into her side, between you two laying the black scorpion plushy. “If Enid gets wind of this, I will kill you and her” Wednesday threatened you which made you giggle while put a hand on your cheek. Softly kissing your lips she mumbled another thanks.

You stayed in her dorm until it got late and Principal Weems appeared in Wednesday’s dorm causing the both of you two separate. “Miss Y/n, thought I’d find you here” said the tall woman as you smirked up at her. “I’m already leaving, I’ll see you tomorrow Wens” you said as you stood up, “good night, Cara Mia” she mumbled to you as you walked out.

“Good Night Wednesday”

“Good Night Principal Weems”

Before the door closed completely her head appeared again with a knowing grin. “Cute plushy by the way”

Let’s just say Wednesday has never been so embarrassed, but hey everything for the girl she loved.

———————————————————————————

So I hope you like this :)

#reader insert #wednesday addams x you #wednesday x reader #wednsday addams #wednesday #wednesday x y/n #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x you

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storiesfromafan · 5 days

Text

Request - Benny Cross

A/N: this was a request, as per this challenge.

@thefloatingpickle, I hope you like this. I didn't want to go the obvious route 😅 I got a bit creative haha.

Not sure if most or any of what I described could happen. But just go with it 😅🤣 also, excuse grammar and mistakes haha.

~~~~~

Character: Benny Cross - The Bikeriders

Place: in the rain

Reason to kiss: life or death

Summary: Benny should trust you and your gut.

You had a bad feeling about riding back to town after joining Benny and the Vandals on a bike ride. Seeing a murder of crows as you left the town you had passed through, sitting and leering from the power lines, was a bad sign. A small part of you being superstitious. Benny would always laugh at your notions, how you would say I have a bad feeling. You’d brought the crows up to him when you all had pulled over to stretch your legs and for those to relieve themselves.

Now the sky looked to be turning, grey clouds rolling over the beautiful blue sky. Again, you voiced your concerns. Something not sitting right in your stomach. Again once more Benny not hearing you, just brushing it off. But you continued on. The hallow pit in your stomach just seeming to sink further.

“Benny, I really have a bad feelin’ about the clouds. I think it’s gonna rain" you stressed, holding onto his arm.

He sigh. “Baby, we’ll make it back before it rains. I promise".

You wanted to believe him – and you usually would – but this feeling you had was just too strong. So, you kept at it. And so much, that Benny began to get annoyed. Soon you both having soft, heated words. He wanted you to drop it, worried your words could irritate those around you both.

“Please Benny, we can’t go on" you pleaded.

That was it for him. He made an annoyed noise, Benny turned his sharp gaze to you. “Enough! We’re goin' on. I’m done with this shit, (Y/N)".

You fell silent hearing the annoyance in his voice, and having those beautiful blue eyes of his look at you in such a way. It was rare for Benny to be like this with you. For your man usually is doting and sweet. You bit your tongue, knowing there was no use to further this. For you fear what Benny could say next. For he had a tendency to throw around taking off and hint at not coming back, something you couldn’t or wouldn’t handle.

Not long after the end of your argument, Johnny called out that they would get moving. Benny didn’t waste time getting on his bike, flicking the cigarette he had been smoking, before kick starting the bike to life. You took a deep breath, shakily releasing it, before getting on behind your man. That sinking feeling getting worse. When you wrapped your arms around his waist, you clutched at Benny’s t-shirt, out of fear but also wanting to hold him closer.

Once back on the road, you still had just over an hour till you got back to your town. Silently you prayed to anyone and everyone that you’d all make it back safely. But it seems your prayers went unheard, for soon it began to spit rain. It was fine and sporadic, which all the men were fine with. Benny even offering you soft words, hoping to keep you calm. Yet it did the opposite, that worry only amplifying.

Yet again you voiced your worries to the man before you, and once more Benny didn’t want to hear it. Back and forth you both went as riding along. Until Benny had enough and told you to quiet down and just relax. You again fell silent, clutching onto him tighter. And your fears and worries finally became true.

The fine rain started to grow to solid drops, which quickly then became heavy. Vandals persevered on, though it was hard to see at times. Soaked to the bone, your constant readjusting your hold on Benny’s t-shirt, he was greeted to the water running down his skin. His concerns started to come forth, and his thoughts thinking you might have been right. A bad feeling starting to rise in Benny.

If only you had been wrong. But fate seemed to be cruel. Being so close to town now, riding along the open fields, this would be where it would happen. Benny – unaware of what was to come – rode along, and was the one to encounter a leafy wet patch on the road. As soon as his front tire ran over it, he had absent-mindedly jostled his handle bars a bit. Which lead to his bike wobbling.

He tried to straighten up, while you gripped him tighter, holding your breath. But it seems fate was very cruel. The bike slid, Benny holding on to the handles, you holding onto him. You don’t remember much after that, nor did Benny. But it seems the back tire clipped a lone, stray sign post. The bike swinging around, which lead to Benny finally releasing his grip. You both slid, before rolling across wet, muddy grass.

You slowly, painfully sat up. Your hold on Benny being lost at some point. You groaned, noting the scrapes and cuts. Mind foggy and trying to process what had happened, yet never fully grasping it. Benny! Was what came to mind. Frantically you looked beside and around you. Before those frantic eyes spotted him a short distance from you.

Only he didn’t look to be moving. You moved as quick as you could, unable to get up on the first few tries. In the end opting to crawling over to him, your body protesting and burning with every moved muscle. You slide next to Benny, hands moving to his face. You cupped his gorgeous face, turning it towards you, noting a few scraps to his cheek and temple. You moved it back to a straight forward position, just as Johnny and Brucie rushed over. Both men dropped down on either side, Johnny next to you and Brucie across from you both, and moved Benny to lay flat on his back.

You leant down so your ear was against Benny’s chest, looking for a heart beat. It was there, softly. You sighed, and cried out your findings when both men asked if you heard his heart beat. They continued to look him over, making sure nothing looked broken or out of place or any bleeding. You moved back to Benny’s face, hands running over his cheeks, your eyes begging him to let you see his baby blues.

Softly you tapped his cheek with your hand, leaning down closer to his face. Voice shaky and unlike your usual one. “B-Benny" you stammered his name. “Come on, w-wake up!”

Still nothing from him.

Tears started to pool in your eyes. “C-come on" you repeated, voice breaking more. “W-wake up!”

By this time Johnny had noticed you, he placed a hand on your shoulder while telling you to stop. That it would be alright, that Benny was probably just knocked out. But you didn’t listen, shaking off his hand and continuing to tell the man laying before you to wake up. Your tears finally spilling over, running down your cheeks and mixing with the rain that was still coming down, only not as heavy now. Like a taunt to you all.

Without a thought you leant down. Sloppily you pressed your lips to Benny’s in an urgent kiss. A kiss you hoped to wake him. A kiss of life, hoping to revitalise the man you so painfully love. You put all your feelings, all your hope, into this kiss. Finally when you pull back, you hover your lips over his. Softly, shakily you say please wake up. One last ditch effort before you throw in the towl.

Then you heard it. A tiny, painful groan. Your eyes shot to stare at Benny’s, waiting with baited breath. Finally they fluttered, closing tightly as he groaned yet again, only a little louder. After what felt like forever, Benny opened his eyes and you were greeted to those beautiful blues you adore so much. You could hear Johnny and Brucie, one calling Benny’s name while the other calling out to the others.

You didn’t take much notice of any of them, for you were focused on Benny. Your hands holding his face, eyes locked with his. Your tears falling harder seeing him awake, the fear in you dying down, yet the worry still remained. Hoarsely and with some pain, Benny did his best to sooth you. A hand coming up to push away some wet hair from your face.

“It’s alright baby. I’ll be alright" he said, over and over. Though Benny knew he’d be scrapped and bruised for possibly weeks. But thankful no broken bones, for either of you.

In your mixed emotions, you felt a surge of anger. Which you let out by slapping his chest, but not too hard. “I told ya" you stated, “I told ya somethin' would happen!”

Benny groaned, a little from pain and from knowing you were right. “...yes baby" was all he could say.

Maybe this was a wake up call. Maybe Benny should listen to you and your bad feelings in the future. And he will, but for now you both needed to get looked at. And out of the rain.