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spencersmagic · 4 years ago

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a knife twists at the thought - SR

Prompt: a knife twists at the thought that i should fall short of the mark - Arctic Monkeys

Summary: Spencer is new to this, and the poor boy is terrified

Couple: Fem! Reader x Spencer Reid (i picture season 2/3 Spencer but y’all do you)

Category: angst

Word count: 3086 words

Warnings: general criminal minds stuff, mentions and descriptions of torture, descriptions of loss, HAPPY ENDING!!, my 3am writing, tooth rotting love, uhmm spoilers for Orwell’s 1984 (if anybody hasn’t read it), humiliation, Spencer crying and breaking my heart (lmk if you need anything warned or trigger tagged).

A/N This is very loosely based on 2x15 (VERY LOOSELY). I’m quite proud of this one :)

masterlist // 505 series taglist

*****

They say you never see it coming.

When a tragedy occurs, and someone’s life is turned upside down forever, they never see it coming. It just... hits them. Like an oncoming car ramming into a bystander who was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

No one has time to prepare. In our time-starved lives, there is no place for such a warning.

One day, you just wake up. And they’re not next to you. They’ve disappeared, leaving the stickiest, most unforgettable parts of themselves behind for others to grieve to: the smell of their shampoo in the pillows they used to share, the seconds just as you wake when you still feel like you have them - only to gain full consciousness and realise they left you behind - even the fucking jars, which never seem to be open because he’s just not there to do it.

And you feel your heart breaking all over again as your soul sticks to the parts that couldn’t be erased with the rest of him as he left. Because you needed him, you had him, and now he’s gone. No warning, no letter, no signs which could’ve helped you foresee such a tragedy, because how could he? He didn’t disappear on purpose.

She doesn’t understand why he's so absent. So unequivocally missing. And the person she would turn to to ask these riddled questions isn’t there to answer. Because he’s gone.

But they’re not there yet.

And she feels so close to that feeling - the helplessness, the pain, the empty cups next to her bed because he always carried them to the sink when she was finished with her tea the mornings of those rare days they got to sleep in. Those days when they had time. She can practically touch, with the tip of her fingertips, the waves of pain that would surge over her if he was gone for one more fucking minute.

She has to remind herself, over and over again, like a mantra. He’s not gone yet.

The “yet” at the end of her mantra just breaks her all over again.

She was always the one to tell Spencer “if you worry before something happens, in case it goes wrong, and then it does, you’ve managed to suffer twice through something painful for absolutely no reason”. It usually worked. Needless to say, she felt like a hypocrite right about now.

Because Spencer is gone. And she doesn’t know how to bring him back.

She knows only to watch the monitor, never once blinking, taking in everything that happened in that damned livestream - every word, every sound, every reference. She can only try to hear anything over the whimpers and sobs her love was letting out as he’s tortured by that man. She can only hear the cracks of his knuckles against Spencers soft skin, the same soft skin she had kissed mere hours ago before telling him to “be careful”. Her own way of saying the three little words the couple was too young to hear. She can only see his lips parting, sobs rumbling out of his body as the unsub abuses his frame over and over again - same lips which had kissed her forehead before telling her “i always am”.

Then again, she isn’t sure if its his voice which is filling her head with painful sounds or if her mind is playing tricks on her, memorising the horrifying vibrations coming from his chest for her to ever consider anything else. She hasn’t stopped hearing him since she turned on that damned computer.

She isn’t sure she’ll ever stop hearing it.

As a man of great intellect, Spencer always recurred to knowledge to understand difficult occurrences in his life. Burying himself in textbooks, novels, poems, and even music to understand pain, and himself having a life filled with it, he was an incredibly knowledgeable man.

He knew much. But right now, he only knew one thing.

In Orwells’ 1984, as Winston was being tortured (much like Spencer is right now), Orwell described the following:

“Never, for any reason on earth, could you wish for an increase of pain. Of pain you could only wish one thing: that it should stop. Nothing in the world was so bad as physical pain. In the face of pain there are no heroes, no heroes”.

And, as a man who had acquired most of his intellect by immersing himself in trivial content in the face of pain, he found himself doing the same thing as the unsub hurt him over and over again, each blow seemingly more painful than the last. As his skin bruised, a causality of his abusers torment, he analysed the seemingly logical quote.

It must depend on the person, he was sure. In fact, a number of factors must be taken into consideration at this statement. For starters, Winston lives in a society incapable of any human feelings. There is only dominance, and those who attempt, in vain, to challenge it. Surely, if he had felt happiness, like the one you feel when the first day of spring rolls around, or like the one that creeps up on you as you look into the eyes of your loved one, surely, he would understand that some things can outweigh pain.

Love.

If Spencer’s mind could make sense of what he was feeling right now, he would understand, something he would figure of were he to leave this damned place, that he was thankful to the Gods, were there any, for having the unsub kidnap him and not Y/N.

Winston hadn’t understood emotional pain because emotions weren’t dealt with regularly. They were discouraged. That’s why he believed that there are no heroes in the face of pain. Because he doesn’t understand emotional pain.

He knew he was suffering. He also knew that Y/N was at the other side of the blinking camera suffering more than he could ever imagine.

They say emotional pain lasts 12 minutes. Anything one feels after this would be the aftermath of the cause of the pain in question. Pure emotional pain, the one you practically feel in your chest, the one that says “i can’t think, feel or be. not until this feeling dissipates”.

She had learned this from Spencer.

And she wished it were true. As she watched that damned monitor, she wished that all the venom the unsub was spewing at Spencer, all the verbal abuse, was long forgotten. She wished he could only feel the physical pain. Because the mind is incredibly stronger than the body - it could keep him awake, alive, for just enough time for the team to rescue him.

The entire team had huddled around the monitor around her. She was painfully aware that other people were seeing this. Which meant it wasn’t her imagination. It wasn’t another one of those damned dreams she would have when she slept a little too far away from Spencer’s touch.

They had only been together for two months, but his touch was all that could get her to fall asleep.

She jolted as the unsub landed another slap on Spencer’s cheek, swiftly grabbing his hair for him to look into the camera. He had a cut above his right cheek, just where she would kiss him in the mornings, and bruises all over his neck, jaw and left eye.

“Say hi to your team!” he mocked Spencer, chuckling darkly as he moved his almost lifeless body around for the team to watch in horror. Spencer let out a heartbreaking sob, feeling so vulnerable.

“Why don’t we make this interesting?” he jumped, as if he had gotten an idea. The unsub reached behind himself to grab a pistol, clicking off the magazine safety to put one bullet in one of the eight slots, leaving the other seven free. He pointed it at Spencer’s temple.

Her entire body shook the thought of seeing Spencer’s lifeless body, held up only by the ropes and that sick man’s grip around his curls. The same curls she grabbed as she kissed his face when she wanted his attention.

“I’m going to ask you some questions...” he said, voice dripping with sickening sweetness as he turned the roulette, “and if i don’t like your answer i’ll pull the trigger! Let God decide what I do with you. Sounds good?”. He wanted to humiliate Spencer.

However, Spencer made the mistake of not answering him. He was quickly reminded as the barrel of the gun pointed right between his eyes, pulling the trigger, a loud bang! sound expanding through the barn.

“I asked you a question!” he suddenly yelled into Spencer’s face.

“Y-yes, Sir” he whimpered, shaking at the ease at which the man pulled the trigger.

“Good, you’re learning”.

She experienced it by bits. Hotch’s hoarse voice. “Talk to me Garcia”. “We’ve got coordinates”. Everybody rushing to the SUVs. Tripping over her own feet on the way to the car. Morgan’s voice. The iPad, which still carried Spencer’s whimpers and the man mocking tone.

“I’ve got your diary, Spence” his sing-song voice didn’t match the disgusting man she was looking at. Nothing made sense.

“And I wanna know why...” he drew out the ‘y’ as he looked for something between the worn pages between his hands.

Of course she knew Spencer owned a diary. But she was mature enough to keep her hands to herself and her eyes on her own pages as he wrote on his, eyebrows creasing as he recalled all which he had experienced during the day. His face would twitch slightly at the memories, both good and bad, as he basically described his day word by word.

“...why did you wait until you were 24 to lose your virginity?” he asked in a clear attempt to humiliate and ridicule Spencer in front of his team.

“I-I didn't-” he could barely finish a word before a sob wrecking through his body at the humiliation, chest rumbling and voice wavering. “I didn’t want to lose it before, i w-wasn’t in a hurry” he rushed out. The man brought the pistol to his own chin, tapping it as he thought. “Hmm... I’m satisfied with your answer. Let’s dig deeper, shall we?” he asked as he went back into the pages.

“ooh! This one is new” that sick bastard was having fun with this, completely unaware that the team was less than 5 minutes away from their location.

“Care to read what you wrote three days ago? Right here” he turned the pages so Spencer could read them, though he was painfully aware of that entry he was talking about. His body shook violently. “P-please. D-don’t ma-make me do t-this” he whimpered, body feeling defeated.

“Wrong answer” the unsub said before pointing a gun at him and pulling the trigger.

A shriek was heard from the iPad. The SUV went silent.

“He’s alive” she whispered, unable to speak up. “He-” she swallowed. “He’s alive. We’re not there, yet” her mantra became a reminder that she hadn’t been quick enough to help him. She had the tools to save him. Every second she had the knowledge to save him and didn’t was another second she remained impotent at the risk of losing the love of her life.

Spencer’s voice spoke from the iPad.

“C-can you at-at leas-st turn off t-the ca-amera?” he said between sobs.

And it hit her.

What hurt him the most wasn’t the memories he had to relieve, but the fact that the rest of the team would have to hear his most intimate thoughts. His deepest secrets.

He could bare the pain. The humiliation? That broke him.

“Aww” the unsub chuckled mockingly, “are you embarrassed?” he said, slouching down to look into his eyes. “Well too fucking bad!” he screamed into his face, spitting with every word he spewed at him. Spencer’s sobs got louder.

“O-okay okay!” Spencer caved, accepting the journal that got shoved into his face.

“Read, pretty boy” the unsub sang. That son of a bitch was having fun.

“We’re two minutes away, Y/N” Hotch said. Maybe it was he sobs, which were barely audible to herself, having accepted them as second nature after all the heartbreak she was experiencing, but Hotch needed her to be okay.

His own heart thumped into his chest, feeling as helpless as he’d ever felt. Seeing a member of his team - someone he was supposed to take care of, someone he was supposed to keep safe - was sobbing as he was physically and emotionally tortured. But he was painfully aware of the feelings Y/N was experiencing. The sheer fear that was running down her veins at the idea of them running out of time.

After a few sobs, Spencer started reading, interrupting himself occasionally with his whimpers:

“It’s been three months. Today, three months, seven hours and forty-six minutes ago, she did what I didn’t have the courage to do. She asked me out. “I’ve been wanting to ask you pretty much since the day i met you” she had said. Those words keep ringing in my head like a beautifully written symphony, intrinsically designed to make me face my deepest fears. Opening my scars one by one, dissecting them and reaching the simple conclusion that i was a coward.

She didn’t say it, but what she meant was “i’ve been waiting for you to do it, but you never did, so i had to”. We wasted time - a time so precious and sacred - because i was a coward.

I’ve never felt like this before. I never understood a love so deep as to move something so stubborn as the human spirit. I’ve read textbook after textbook, and novel after novel, and still I’ve never learned more than with her. But I was a coward. And i wasted her time. I fear that I still am.

A knife twists at the thought that i should fall short of the mark. It’s impossible for me to ever be enough for her”.

Her heart broke at this confession. Even worse at the thought that he wouldn’t’ve told her, instead inhaling fear and exhaling rejection at every breath he took next to her.

“We’re here” she heard Hotch, looking at her. She grabbed a bottle of water and dropped the iPad, not hearing the teams objections at the lack of vest and preparation and ran into the barn.

She isn’t sure if she’ll ever stop hearing his whimpers. As she runs closer, she hears them louder and louder, decorated with sobs and cries, and small, meaningless replies to his abusers’ mocking words.

She kicked the door down, the loud bang booming across the room, only helping in raising Spencer’s sobs as he feared the sound had been the result of a certain trigger being pulled. As she looks at him, she realises just how much pain he’s been put through.

She remembers Orwells words, much like how Spencer had remembered them mere hours ago. And disagrees, wishing over and over, praying to the Gods that she would be the victim of such atrocious abuse. She wished she could take his pain. Morgan joined her at her side mere seconds later, yelling. “FBI! Put the gun down!”.

Spencer used the last bit of energy to lunge forward, hitting the unsubs stomach with his head, successfully getting him on the floor for Morgan to apprehend. Y/N rushed to Spencer’s side, untying him, as his now nonexistent sobs grew louder and louder, not only at the prospect of getting out of that horrible place alive, but also at the knowledge that Y/N had heard what he had so dreadfully recited.

Spencer collapsed into her arms, crying into her in the same way she was crying into him, and she wondered just how to take away all his pain. So they cried into each other, desperately grasping each others hair, skin, clothes, anything that would make them feel like they wouldn’t have to spend another damned second without the company of each other.

Spencer was the first to break the silence.

“I need-” he stopped, coughing. She reached for the bottle of water she had brought with her because she knew he would need it. She always knew what he needed.

He chugged it desperately, stray drops falling down his chin at his eagerness. He took a deep breath trying to steady his lungs.

“I need to get out of here” he choked out.

She grabbed him under the shoulders, careful not to hurt him - not being successful, realising that there wasn’t much of him the man hadn’t hurt. Y/N pulled him out, sitting down on the grass with him. Their legs intertwined, pulling each other impossibly closer. They kissed, over and over again. Not as an act of any sexual relevance, but as a reminder that they had each other in any way, shape or form. That they weren’t out of time.

The team was certain they would stay there, never letting each other go for another minute.

After what felt like seconds in their time-starved little world, she broke the silence, which had only been filled with their own cries and occasional sobs.

“Spence” she grabbed his chin to look into his eyes. They were dull, red and hooded. He was exhausted. “Mhmm?” he let out, looking into hers. She was his solace.

“How could you ever think you were anything but completely and unequivocally enough?” she whispered the words he dreaded.

But as Spencer looked into her eyes he knew, better than he had ever known anything, that he was enough. And she was enough. He realised that which she had known for the past three months (possibly longer). They fit like two marvellous puzzle pieces.

Her hands grabbed his cheeks slowly, as to not hurt or startle him, pulling his forehead into hers. “Baby, I can’t imagine anybody else waking up to me every morning. You’re so much more than enough”, she planted a small kiss on his forehead before resuming her position. “I’ll remind you every day of the rest of my life if that’s what it takes for you to believe it”.

And with their eyes closed, foreheads and noses pressed together and legs tangled between each other, pulling each other close, closer - around grass and voices and his abuser pressed into the hood of a police car, they only felt each other. With their shaky breaths, even shakier voices, fearing any words that would leave them in case they triggered a cascade of tears down their oh so vulnerable cheeks, they were more than enough.

***

I hope y’all liked it!! Feel free to let me know by liking, reblogging, or sending me a message :)

super cool kid taglist: @lady-anon-x @spencerreid-mgg @eoupe @inlovewithbabygirl @galaxydefenderjulia @username2002

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pedrosbisch · 3 years ago

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More // 2

Benny Miller x Female Reader w/ Nickname; No Y/N

Summary: How long can Benny run damage control and keep his feelings hidden?

TW: Alcohol, angst, unhealthy coping mechanisms

AN: To all my Frankie lovers, I swear he won’t be portrayed as a dick for the entire series! Also I’m sorry for the Twilight reference, I couldn’t help myself 😂

Read Part 1 Part 3

You walk in the door of the bar and immediately spot Santiago schmoozing a pretty girl at the counter. It doesn’t take long for him to collect her number, and make his way to the table where Frankie, Will and Benny had settled themselves. Thankfully, no one had noticed you slipping away from the group to take a breath of fresh air.

You looked up to the stars and inhaled deeply, remembering how many nights you’d spent sleeping under them when things hadn’t been so damn complicated. Your bond with Frankie was unspoken; you worked together like a well oiled machine. You pushed and he pulled, if he moved— you moved. He was your partner, the person who had your back no matter what. But despite everything you had been through together, your interactions tonight had been downright painful; Like you had never been more than just a shitty hookup gone wrong.

You had a second more to ponder it before two big arms wrapped around you from behind and hoisted you into the air.

“Dice, where the hell’ve you been, loca?!”

“I could ask you the same Pope, I’m not the one who ran away to South America for 2 years”

“You wound me princessa!” Santiago set you down, for only a second before facing you frontward and hoisting you up again.

“Jesus Santi, how much have you had to drink?” You laugh and finally wrap your arms around his neck and hug him back.

“You wouldn’t be asking me that if you’d been inside with us, now come on and let’s go celebrate.” He grabs your hand and guides you back inside through the crowds of people to the table where the Will is pouring shots of tequila.

You take a seat beside Will as he finishes filling the last glass. He passes them out to each person at the table before speaking.

“I’d like to make a toast, not only to Benny for winning his first fight in 3 damn weeks; But to all of us being here together again— To family.”

Your raise your glass and clink them all together in the center. For a second, everything feels like it’s back to normal. Like you are a family, because everything you’ve survived together would seem completely inconceivable to any other people in the room outside of your circle of friends. You throw back your shot and the burn slides down your throat, settling and leaving a warm feeling in your belly.

Santi grabs the bottle of tequila and haphazardly starts filling your shot glasses once more. “Hey, and let’s not forget our man Catfish here. A toast to him, and congratulations on finally tying the knot and creating a family of his very own.”

You stare blankly at the shot glass in front of you, as your world crumbles. It didn’t matter if you were his family at one point, you aren’t anymore. He has his own family now, one that he’s chosen and created on his own. You push your glass to the side and instead snatch the bottle from Santi and take 5 large gulps. You can feel eyes burning into you, the same way your throat is burning from forcing yourself to drink.

“Cheers.” You set the Tito’s on the table before turning and heading straight to the bathroom. You walk as fast as your legs can carry, sensing someone walking after you. Whoever it was, they would have to wait.

This is too much, I can’t do this. You press your palms into your eyes to wipe away the fuzzy lights already forming at the corners of your eyes. You splash cold water onto your face and it feels heavenly, if only sobering you the tiniest bit. You’re all here to celebrate, and Frankie has made it clear that he doesn’t care. Why should you? You push through the door and immediately run into a solid frame that feels all too familiar.

“Are you okay?” Frankie is stood leaning against a wooden beam, with his arms half reached out to you and his eyes filled with worry. You let out a short, blunt laugh.

“Oh no, I’m great. I’m fucking fantastic Francisco, thanks for asking. Now if you excuse me—“ You push past him, checking his shoulder as clear signal not to follow you. You plop yourself back down at the table and gulp down a water Will had generously flagged down for you.

“You okay Dice? That was a lot of Tequila, maybe one of us should drive you home tonight.” Will not so subtly moved the Tito’s out of your reach as you made a grab for it again.

“I can drive her home, I was about to head out anyway.” Frankie walks up to the side and pulls his keys from his pocket along with a 20 for the bill.

Your body tenses, and before you can object feel someone behind you; They scratch at the base of your scalp and god that fucking feels good.

“But you gotta get home to your wife, right?Someone needs to take care of Dice— make sure she doesn’t end up hurt.” Benny’s words dripped with venom only you could recognize. It was so out of character for him, but you hoped they sunk deep in Frankie. “I’ll do it.”

You and Benny wished goodbyes to Santi and Will with promises of updates when you get home. You hopped into the bench of his truck and leaned your head forward to rest on the dash. The cool plastic felt like a blessing on your burning cheeks.

“Alright, let’s get you home baby. Is there anything you want first? Maybe some food, I didn’t see you eat anything tonight. If you don’t get something in your system, you’ll have a nasty hangover tomorrow morning.”

“Considering I drank straight from the bottles, I think I’m going to have a hangover regardless.” Your stomach rumbles impossibly loud in the quiet cab of his truck. “But pizza sounds fucking delicious right now.”

◣─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────◢

2 large pizzas and 3 baskets of garlic bread later, you were full and ready to be in bed. The engine of his truck purrs to life and everything feels good. You slouch into your seat, letting yourself sink into the leather.

“Feeling better now princess?”

“Yeah, much better. Just wish I hadn’t made myself feel so terrible in the first place.”

Benny lays his arm over the back of the bench and tilts his head to the side. It feels like his baby blue eyes are seeing through you and into your soul. But it isn’t invasive, it’s almost comforting— knowing he could see through the act everyone else either doesn’t see or is ignoring.

“Can I ask you a question? Why didn’t you just let me call a cab, or let Frankie take me home? I could’ve dealt with the 15 minute ride, and you could’ve found a girl to take home instead of dealing with me.”

Benny’s eyebrows knit together in a look of worry. “Like I said, someone has to make sure you don’t end up hurt. I’m glad to be that someone, I’m not just dealing with you.”

A flood of emotions hit you all at once. You can’t remember the last time you’d felt like a priority to someone. For too long you’d been thinking all you are is someone on the sidelines; Watching everyone else pairing off as you were left behind. You chalked up his kindness to pity, but here it’s clear he cares about you.

“Thank you.” Your voice cracks to dust and Benny slides you over and into his side. You sniffle and cry into the collar of his flannel, feeling utterly drained. As you regain control of your breathing, you rest your head on his shoulder. “Can I please stay with you tonight? I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

“Of course.” Benny flipped his gears into drive and pulled out of the parking lot. As you drove further out of town, the slight rock of the vehicle lulled you to calm. You take a few deep breaths to steady yourself and find yourself dipping into the dark.

You feel your body bouncing lightly, and Benny’s arms are clasped under your legs and around your back. Your head is rested against his chest and his heartbeat is strong and fast, just like him. You come to just enough to realize you’re in his bedroom, as he sets you down gently. He lays you in his bed and the second you hit his soft mattress, you sprawl and stretch your heavy limbs before grabbing a nearby pillow and snuggling it to your body. If you were sober, you would be embarrassed about the moan you release as you bury your face in his scent that’s so deliciously Benny. It’s fine, I won’t remember this tomorrow anyway.

Just as you were on the precipice of sleep, his voice lulled you back to its subtle anchor.

“I promise I won’t let him hurt you, baby. Not again, you’re too good for him.” He pauses and lightly brushes his fingers down your bare spine. “You’re too good for me.”

What is that supposed to mean? You couldn’t find the gumption to care, as your own thoughts started to echo incoherently in your mind as you’re pushed off the edge of consciousness.

Part 3 ->

#tf fanfic #fanfic #benny miller x you #benny miller x reader #benny miller x female reader #benny miller #triple frontier fanfiction #ben miller x reader #ben miller x you

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messwriting · 4 years ago

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Written for The Smut Pile Collab: Mafia AU | MASTERLIST HERE.

POISON AND PLEASURE

Osamu Miya (Post-Time Skip) x Mob Boss! Female Reader

“Backed into a corner, Osamu makes a deal with the devil -- you.”

Rating: E for explicit | Don’t read this if under eighteen.

Warnings: oh boy. Dub-con (Osamu does consent, but it is coercion); MANIPULATION AND EXTORTION; slight gun play, lasts for a moment; Rough sex; Hate-fucking; Degradation/Humiliation; Spanking, also just for a moment; Oral sex, fingering; Orgasm Denial; Choking; Violence; Dash of corruption and prey/predator; Deep throat; Facial. Fucking in a kitchen/public place. Also, just in case, toxic relationship and money talk (lol).

Word count: 9,889 (such a nice number)

A/N: Oh, this has been a ride. This is my contribution to The Smut Pile Collab, hosted by the lovelies @present-mel, @pleasantanathema and @linestrider. I’m very excited to participate, since it is my first collab and they are my (home) first server. Big, huge, gigantic thanks to Lauren (my wife) for reading this over and beta-ing for me. <3

Well, Osamu fuckers unite! :insert elmo fire: (i’ve been on discord too much)

Osamu gets up from his seat inside his small office, looking from the small window on his door inside the already closed restaurant lit only by the lights that come in through the windows, the time being well after closing. Shady deals are mostly done late at night, he thinks. Right as he’s leaving the office and closing the door behind him with a key, the movement outside catches his eye and Osamu turns just in time to watch as the black BMW sedan of the year quietly comes to a halt right in front of his store. He frowns, knowing who that means. He'd much rather deal with the soldier responsible for his loan initially than with you.

Two men emerge from the front doors of the car, one immediately heading for the passenger door while the driver checks the street; they exchange a small nod before the man on the side of the sidewalk opens the passenger door and when he does, he positions himself behind it and immediately out of the way. Osamu could be intrigued by the action if he didn't feel so represented by it - he, too, would prefer to always be out of your way.

There’s power in the way you move, ingrained in your body as you descend an expensive white heel onto the concrete beneath you on the sidewalk, the other following suit while you propel yourself out, holding the frame of the car for support. It’s late at night and the street is fairly dark, but your simple presence, clad in an impeccable white suit with a deep neckline showing immaculate skin, is enough to brighten the place. There’s an elegant, expensive-looking and equally unnecessary coat draped over your shoulders and your hair was flawlessly styled.

You draw attention as the color black absorbs light-- from all and everything. Maybe it is because of your soul, he muses.

Once you were standing outside the car, your driver marched to the door of the onigiri restaurant, holding it open for you while you strode inside, heels clicking on the pavement, the sway of your hips something Osamu may think beautiful to watch if it weren’t you.

“Hello, Miya-san. Hope you have better news for me this week.” You state as cheerfully as you can, calmly entering the establishment in a glory of white. You shed your coat once you passed the door, the driver catching it while the second man seemed to survey the outside area a little more before entering.

"Hi." Osamu extends his hand with the brown envelope. But you go around him and walk to the counter, calmly sitting down on one of the high stools while absentmindedly looking around his small restaurant.

“I missed my lunch today, so I hope you don’t mind me grabbing a bite before I leave.” You don’t look at Osamu when he doesn’t move for his place behind the counter immediately.

“We’re closed.” He says and you turn around just momentarily, piercing eyes on his profile. One of your men is still by the door and the look he gives the twin is also very compelling. Osamu feels his teeth gritting against the pressure he makes to shut his tongue. "Sure."

One of the goons comes closer and takes the brown envelope from his hands, without you even looking back as the burly tattooed man sits in one of the booths and starts counting the money.

“So, how’s business? I’ve heard you had a hard time these last two months.” You try to make small talk while checking the menu over the counter, carefully done nails threading along the restaurant menu. You only press a long nail against what you want and slide it to him, the 18K diamonds on your small and discreet Cartier watch and matching trinity ring on your finger catching more of his attention than your watchful eyes. Your jewelry is discrete, tasteful, and still amounting enough to buy the whole building where the Onirigi’s shop is located. Osamu's throat moves around nothing in reflex.

"Isn’t it obvious?" He grumbles while working against the counter, starting once he cleans his hands on the sink. He’d like to say his eyes keep diverting to your neckline because of your shining jewelry.

"So rude, Miya." you chuckle. “And I’ve been nothing but nice to you. Didn’t you pay for your little plumbing problem with my money? Is it only dirty to you once I’m present?”

"I don’t like people like you." Osamu doesn’t beat around the bush. And once he’s done with this payment he’d be completely free of you anyway, he doesn’t feel the need to pretend.

“Like me? You mean kind? All I ever did was help you out in a time of need.”

Osamu’s snort is disrespectful. The big man by the door moves but a simple turn of your hand in the air has him standing back, carefully looking down on Osamu, but unmoving. The other’s still counting the money rather calmly, the booth he’s seated unseeable from the shop window.

“You see, disrespect won’t take you far.” You say offhand, your watchful eyes on Osamu’s every move but with no real worry. You don’t trust him, but you know he’s not stupid.

"I don’t plan on it." He answers you after a beat, finishing wrapping the Salmon onigiri, disposing it carefully on a plate, and depositing it in front of you, accompaniments arranged around. Osamu doesn't use the fact that he doesn't like you as an excuse for a half-ass job; he's not the type, which is refreshing. Is what you like about him.

“Get started on a few others. I trust your recommendations.”

Osamu chooses to work quietly, in silence. You, however, are happily chatting away at his high stool as if this is just another day of bullying patrons. Maybe, for you, it is.

“You work very diligently.” You observe, eyes trailing from his toned arms to his deft fingers diligently working on the rice ball. He’s fast and experienced, rolling the nori around the triangled shaped steamed rice after successfully filling it with whatever he chose. Osamu just grumbles out something, or tsk, even when the way you look at his fingers takes an unexpected appreciative turn.

“Maybe I should have you working overtime more.” You muse when he finishes the new onigiris and carefully places them in front of you. Osamu eyes you nastily, clearly displeased at your comment, which makes your lips split in a bigger smile despite your teeth closing around the rice ball. Even so, you’re pleasantly surprised by their flavor.

“See, this is why I like you, Osamu.” The man frowned at your loose use of his first name, the way it rolls off your tongue so nicely. “You always deliver good work.”

“It’s my job.” Osamu retorts, unamused. “I do it right even if it’s for…” He catches his tongue right in time, his eyes catching movement from the man seated down at one of the tables, almost biting his tongue in the process. “--people like you.”

Osamu watches while the burly man with tattoos moves discreetly despite his size, bends down so his mouth can be on your ear level, and murmurs something to you that he doesn’t quite catch. Your steely eyes are momentarily looking down when they blink and fly back to his face, a deep, blank stare that makes Osamu’s brows furrow. His back becomes straighter, a gripping feeling in his gut that triggers his fight or flight.

He presses the urge down - tells himself he doesn’t have anything to fear.

He’s looking down at you, but Osamu feels small under your steady glare. Which in reflex, after several years of being stupid in pair, makes him want to act up.

"Seems to me you forgot some money, Miya."

"What?" His shocked tone is harsh and his eyes dart between you to the two men behind you, looking as steady as his walls and just as broad. "I counted it twice, everythin’ I owe ya ‘s there." His accent comes out pretty hard when he’s agitated.

"You only have fifty thousand here."

“I owe ya fifty thousand.” Osamu deadpans, almost sneering. “What ’re ya sayin’?"

“No, Miya. Fifty thousand is what you owed me two weeks ago.”

"You gave me an extension." He argues, brows furrowed.

"Exactly. I never said anything about the interest.”

"What?"

"You forgot the interest." You talk to him as if he’s a child, lips turning upwards at his confusion. Osamu has the gut feeling you’re enjoying every second of this. Every little moment of his deep discomfort. “You were informed about them when you accepted the loan, you know how they work. If you don’t pay on the due date, 10 percent interest each extra week you remain in debt.”

"Are you telling me I'm missin’ over 10K in interest rates?

"Yes." You say, smiling while tilting your head sideways, analytical. "Because you are."

“I'm paying you back,” Osamu grits through his clenched teeth, almost as if he’s willing it to be true, “Everything I owed ya is there. ”

"Not quite. You’re paying me back about--” You smile and press your lips in thinking, eyebrows furrowing while you calculate on your head the exact number. “-- 82 percent of what you owe me.”

Osamu’s fists close, veins bulging while his heart picks up with the adrenaline rush of a fit of rage. Aggression flows on his body to the point where his entire frame trembles. His teeth are clenched, tightly forced together by his pressed jaw. His brain cannot reason beyond the need to vent that outrage, and with every second he spends looking at your pretty-faced indifference sitting in front of him at the counter, his outrage slowly merges into fury. Osamu stares back at your emotionless eyes, turns, and walks two strides before burying his fist in the nearest plaster wall, the pain grounding him, soothing his nerves.

Pain is familiar -- what Osamu doesn’t like is to feel so deranged.

"Fuck!" He exclaims loudly but still controlled, turns his broad back to you, breathes deeply a few times, and then settles. You watch in delighted silence as he moves to the freezer, grabs an iced pack of random food, and puts on his busted knuckles, his eyes on the hole he left on the wall; The twin sighs audibly, then walks back while coldly regarding you and your two watchdogs who look over to him carefully, almost startled.

You, however, didn’t even flinch.

"So how much do I still have to give you?"

“I think the better question is: Can you pay?”

“I’ll figure it out.” Osamu grumbles out, his clenched jaw working over grinding teeth.

“That’s not how this works, Miya.” You tell him, your spine regally straight on the high seat as if it is your throne. Your lips move around the next word with malice. “When.”

“I--” Osamu stops to think for a moment, coldly calculating his financial situation. He has no way to withdraw money from the main branch to try and cover the losses of this branch, that would be simply stupid. There is no way for him to borrow money from Atsumu, who doesn’t know the concept of savings; Kita can not help him with such a great amount and he can’t recur to his poor parents. He also doesn’t want to resort to a bank at all, which doesn’t leave him many options. A new extension raises interests and he doesn't think he can do it beyond the amount he would need to add. Osamu's chest slowly fills with dread - he knows what’ll come if he doesn’t pay and he refuses to let his business become a Mafia parlor.

You watch Osamu slowly and quite meticulously calculate his options while engrossed in reasoning his dreadful situation; it’s thrilling, you almost can’t hide the contentment blossoming in your chest at his desperate situation.

His expression shifts and turns sour, before slowly building back his blank façade but it’s too late, you already know his conditions and capacities - it’s your job to know. And you pride yourself in never making bets, just assuming calculated risks, so Osamu is right where you wanted him to be.

You do suspect the black-haired male is the same, that disinterested stare in his handsome face nothing short of sharp, his aloof behavior making every second of rilling Osamu up to this manifestation of discomfort all the more delightful. His only problem is that the man plays by rules you don’t. And what you want, you take.

“I’ll need an extension for the rest.” He finally says, so absolutely angered it’s almost a curse. Even the hostility in his tone makes a shiver run down your spine, all the hairs on your arms standing on edge while your insides slowly melt, fed by the images in your brain.

“Really?” You playfully answer, faked surprise not made to convince anyone. Osamu seethes in place, labored breathing making his chest move up and down. “See, now I can’t help you out. I told you disrespect would only take you so far.”

You get up from your seat, a show of touching your expensive black plump Louboutin on the ground. “I can’t let you out like this, not when you did such a show of being… rude.”

“What do you want.” Osamu almost spits at you once you’re rounding his counter, entering his space, closing on him. But he holds himself in place by pressing his nails hardly against the inside of his palms.

“First, some respect.” You sultrily say at him, much as a viper luring its prey. It rolls off your scarlet lips while you look up at him from your long lashes and perfect face. It makes Osamu want to wreck it.

“I don’t respect you.” He says in undertone since you’re close, sounding much like a hiss.

“Doesn’t seem like a smart thing to say to someone to whom you owe so much.” You purse your lips, fake pout. “And you seem like a smart man, Miya. Or am I wrong?”

Osamu blinks, brows furrowing while he looks down at you, his mind working.

“Where are you going with this?” He eyes you warily, his eyebrows furrowing, his mind trying to gauge the target of your wicked intentions. “You want something.”

You smile, pretty red lips stretching to show a beautiful line of white teeth and he’s surprised that the poison isn’t dripping.

“See, I knew you were smart.”

“I’m not giving you my business.” Osamu hisses, like a cornered animal, but his instance shows he’s more prone to fight than flee.

“Don’t want it.” You’re quick to tell him, innocence so out of place that it makes even clearer that you’re being honest. “I may need… services, though.”

Osamu’s spine shoots straight once again, his eyes sharp boring into your face with cold disdain.

“I’m not laundering your money.”

“Money launder, Miya? That’s a federal felony.” You lean back, supporting yourself on your forearms against the balcony, vigilant eyes zooming on him. “Are you saying I’m a criminal?”

Osamu stays silent for the first time. There’s a predatory glint in your eyes that he understands as a warning, but that doesn’t stop him from upturning his brow and tilting his head in a small challenge. Osamu is appalled at what your upturning lips do to his guts, swallowing the saliva that pools in his mouth. He must be wrong in the fucking head to feel anything else than disgust in your sight, but even so, there’s no denying the way there’s a devilish pull around you, like the temptation of a capital sin.

“What I mean is… I have a specific service for you, personally. So you could pay me in...” Your tongue snaps against the roof of your mouth with a small noise, lips turning up in vile intention, “Different goods, per se.”

Osamu refuses to accept his train of thought, eyes pressing into slits while he watches you. His tone enunciates every word of his question.

“What do you mean?”

Your answering smile is sordid.

“You know what I mean Miya, we’ve just established you’re not stupid.”

“I’m starting ta’ think you are, though.”

Your laugh is loud, cheerful even. It makes him look at you as if you’re insane.

“Maybe.” You chuckle, retreating your arms back and straightening your posture on the tool, your neck tilting to the side. “But when I want something, I want it. So why deny myself that? I find the whole point of self-control to be so… pedestrian.” There’s this contempt in your tone at the word, mixing into trivial once your shoulders shrug your consideration for a whole chunk of what living in a society means. “Why hold myself to it if I’m above?” Osamu chooses to ignore that question.

“And what if I say no?”

“You’re free to do what you want, I don’t own you.” Yet, you think, smiling. “Then again you still owe me 10k in interests and with your measly weekly 5k profit and the increased interest percentage with the second extension, we know what’ll happen to you… And I’d hate for that to happen to you.”

The silence is heavy and acidic, burning on him. And you let the seconds pass, relishing in the way he seems to grow aggravated, jaw overworking around nothing to bite, hands in fists by his side.

Oh, you’re close to defiling the pristine white of your designer clothes, the feeling brewing inside you threatening to spill between your thighs. Osamu looks absolutely delicious while being so emotional.

You can see the gears turning inside his pretty dark-haired head, his eyes looking around and back at you, threading down your face, to your neck to the plunging neckline of your suit - you elongate your body while he watches, pleased to have his eyes on you, especially when they're burning with unattended violence and aggression.

Osamu’s always so detached from the events happening around him, so unshakable in that aura of apathetic tranquility that it has caused you to develop an almost macabre interest in making him desperate. And now you are continually enjoying the result, the awakening of the flames that you always knew existed inside the small business owner.

A few minutes pass while you’re just content to watch, the knot in your stomach growing tighter as you appreciate the size of his shoulders, the strength hidden in the strong biceps, the broad, defined torso that you know exists under that simple black outfit simply by gut feeling alone. You are tempted to ask him to turn around so that you can also enjoy his backside.

“Ok.” He says in a breath that seems more like it was ripped out of his chest. Like a dead man last world. You like this analysis. But of course, he can’t have it so easy.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear. Did you say anything?”

Osamu purses his lips in discomfort, almost bites his tongue in the process of not telling you to go to hell.

“I said,” he entones again, though his disdain is showing. “Ok”

“Ok, what?” You press. Oh, the way how his veins bulge on his forearms when his nails press on his palms have your hairs standing on end. You blink at him with a smile, all too pleased with yourself.

“Ok, I’ll do it.” Osamu squeezes out, brows furrowed in discovering your intentions. You’re leering with wicked prowess.

“I don’t think that's how you say it, Miya.” Your brows go up in the tiniest indication of irritation. Your voice is calculated, though unable to hide the elation.

“Ok… Miss. I’ll do anything you want.” The words come out of his mouth sounding nothing like submission and much like he just cursed your whole generation, teeth grinding. Still, it makes you smile. You don’t want to break his spirit -- that’s why you chose him.

“That’s what I like to hear.” You say, pushing yourself out from the counter where you supported yourself. Coat long forgotten on top of it, you cross your arms in front of your breasts, knowing exactly how you look and very pleased at the way his eyes ever so slightly thread down your plunging neckline. “But not so fast. I didn’t tell you I’d accept it-”

“Ya just--” Osamu almost explodes, the arms he holded closed in front of him being thrown in the air as if he’d be ready to grab you. You just turn a hand up and reels at how he actually shuts up right after.

“I just told you, you could pay me in services.” You continue, one step closer to him in your expensive shoes, plump red lips dripping wicked intent.

“But,” You start, closer to him enough that your breath is touching his heated skin and you can smell the sweat his aggression produced, your mouth salivating at the thought of tasting it on his skin.

Your finger rests on his chest and you thread it up while speaking, looking him in the eyes, so pleased at finding so much life in his usual dead stare, “I don’t know if you’re good enough for the job yet.”

Osamu stares back at you, hands in fists forcibly stuck next to his body, feeling the way your hot breath trails on his jaw and hating himself for what it brews in his insides.

You stretch up in your heels, mouth dangerously close to his, which rests ajar to let his breathing out, enough that he can taste your mint breath on his tongue.

“I think I may need a little…” Your eyes thread down to his mouth and then back to his eyes while you speak your next words, “--taste, you know?”

Osamu flexes his fingers, swallows dry around his closed throat, stares at your face -- so close the downright devilish smile on your red lips seems to narrow his field-view -- and he blinks.

The Miya thinks how he wants to wipe that smile off your sinful lips. How he wants to have you trembling, unattended, and disheveled. He thinks about you begging with his name on your tongue, for a release that he’ll keep denying at his disposition. Osamu thinks about leaving you sore and marked, thinks about wrapping his hands around your neck to watch as you struggle, turning purple, life evading you while he fucks you; consider this may be the only way he’d ever had the opportunity to get even close to a payback.

Osamu wants you to experience mind-numbing pleasure you’d never before, uniquelly brought by him… and suffer through the rest of your fucking disgraceful life without being able to taste it again once he’s done paying his debt. Because Osamu swears on his fucking name and whole life, he’ll never give it to you again.

He can see your future already and in it you’re fucked - both by him and for him, while he’s the one who gets away. The twin wonders if you ever lost anything like this in your life, can feel himself growing hard at being the one to make you cry.

“Sure.” Osamu smiles, lopsided, the devil himself being safer than him. “I’ll give ya the taste ya deserve.”

Your eyes press slightly closer in mistrust, the wicked intention pouring from his body so close to yours impossible to miss. Either way, it's your win; that’s exactly what you’ve been bargaining for, despite your game being rigged from the start.

You bring your face close to his as if you were going to kiss him and you are delighted when his eyes go down, although not completely closed, his pupils focusing on your lips.

You smile and retreat, turning to your men still positioned exactly where you left them, behind the bench where you were sitting previously. They remain so observant and sharp as ever, despite looking more like gargoyles than men.

“I’ll need a moment.” You tell them in a serious tone, calm. They both look at you for a second and nod, their stances changing very little despite it. You turn back to him but walk inside his establishment as if you own the place, pushing through the doors that lead to the back and inside his small, equipped kitchen. Osamu follows in silence, briefly wondering if he’d be able to snatch a knife and bury it in your chest.

There’s not much outside cooking paraphernalia, with two big counters and taller than normal table in the center. You stop right in front of it, your hand threading over it for a moment.

“That’ll do.” You say while you turn around to look at him. You look so strikingly bright in the middle of his rather normal kitchen, clad in both lavish clothes and unblemished skin; he wants so much to be able to say your sight doesn’t thrill him -- but he can’t lie to himself.

But then you pointedly eye him and then the ground in front of you, “Kneel.”

Osamu considers his previous thought about burying a knife deep in your chest but walks, stiff, to where you indicated. He kneels with even less disposition than when he walked towards you, the descent slow until the ground’s hard tile is registered against his knee. He makes a point of looking into your eyes as he lowers, hatred overflowing in waves that seem to give you a sick satisfaction, your eyes becoming slightly out of focus.

The Miya’s about to ask what you’d want him to do next, like pledge himself or some shit, when your hands move to the hidden zipper on the side of your impeccable white pants.

It drops to the floor in one go, displaying the graceful planes of your hips, appeasing spanse of flesh, a small triangle of silk hiding your most private parts. Saliva pools in Osamu’s mouth at the sight, his teeth pressing against one another to avoid betrayal. He’s still unsure of what’s his next step until your heel digs on his shoulder painfully, using him as leverage to prop yourself up on the high table.

His eyes snap to yours while he bite his tongue to not curse you out loud. There’s a gun on top of his head that is a big warning for Osamu to behave -- not that he’d have the chance to escape with the watchdogs outside his only exit. If he had, you could be dead already.

Your suit threads up when you move up and slide on the table, the white silk panties peeking in between your open thighs. You move your beretta calmly off his face and thread it slightly, almost fondly, over your naked thigh.

You make a small show of removing your finger from the trigger and depositing it far on the table, enough to be out of his reach and almost yours too. You look back at him once you’re empty handed and just so open right there on the table for him.

“Behave, Osamu. You know you wouldn’t make it very far.”

Osamu grits his teeth but nods, your heel still supported on his shoulder but not digging on his skin anymore. You lay slightly back against his tabletop, forearms resting on the surface carefully. Dressed in a white, stylish suit like the last trend, the skin in between so bright it feels like a taunt, the curves of your breasts so ripe he wants to taste, the closed lapels looking like his own pathway to sin. He can feel his blood boiling, aggression throbbing, and he wants to paint you in red.

“Well then,” You start, happily above him, spread like a meal, “Show me if you’re good enough to pay your debt. Consider this your warrant.”

“Don’t worry.” Osamu drawls out with dripping distaste, his hand slowly, almost bored, threading up from your ankle to your knees. “I’ll fuck ya like you want it. Within an inch of your life.”

His hands lock on the back of your knees and he parts them forcefully, while you leave a yelp followed by laughter, your head thrown back with glee.

You smell of flowers and spice, so expensive he was surprised that you weren’t dripping fucking gold. His palms slide through the back of your thigh and the skin under his fingertips is soft and firm, all shapes of heaven despite being in sole service of the devil.

Osamu starts slowly, the table leaving you open just at the height of his neck while he’s kneeled on the ground, at the perfect height. His thumb presses on your skin while he holds one of your legs up, brings his lips to your knee. There’s a welcoming stain on your panties, and he scoffs at you despite the way his cock responds on his trousers.

“I haven’t even started and you’re already wet?” The way you smile at him is both infuriating and bewitching.

“What? Didn’t you enjoy our little foreplay earlier?” You tease him, plump lips locked under a row of teeth with mirth. His skin feels prickling and Osamu decides he needs more room, roughly pushing on your thighs until he can fit between them with room to spare.

It’s not fair, how good you feel, the delicious smell of your skin, the way your taunt alights him with fire in his veins.

Osamu knows it’s bait -- and he’s willingly falling for it.

When his lips start to thread on the inner part of your knee and up, the twin does it with the intention to mark; he sucks instead of kissing, licks instead of caressing, and bites once he finds the plush meat of your inner thighs.

It stings and you let the smallest of sounds, but Osamu feels it in his gut, brings his hot tongue to soothe over it, bask in the way you tremble under his fingertips just enough for him to sink his teeth and revel in the pain on your groan.

His nose treads along the furthest expanse of the joining of your thighs, touches the silk of your expensive panties, senses the way you tense and watches while your pussy trembles, even while still covered by fabric.

He considers holding back his tongue, but Osamu has never been the type to be held back by the threat of punishment. And you’ve shown to clearly enjoy his fiery side.

“Such an eager pussy right here, isn't it?” He threads his nose against the wet patch in the silk, carefully breathes against the covered lips. Osamu lets one of his shoulders bear one leg and brings his thumb to pass over the growing wet patch. “Sticky.” He presses it from the wetness to the place where your clit should be, watches as you respond to his touch with aborted movement. “Such a slut.” It’s supposed to be degrading, but there’s a hint of appreciation in his words that isn’t lost on you. “Is this all it takes for my debt? It’ll be finished in a second then.”

Your mouth opens to retort but closes in time to withhold a moan before it falls through your lips. His thumb’s pressing against your clit in tight circles while the index of his other hand threads over your covered cunt. Turns out Osamu has moves to back up the big talk.

He’s methodical, clearly good and deft with his fingers, controlled pressure applied in a way that has you writhing on the table despite your intention to make this hard on him. Your desire to make him work for it, apparently, is no match for his.

Osamu presses the tips of his fingers on your clothed entrance, enough force that it barely breaks inside you but the teasing has you churning on the table for him, legs trying to part beyond limits, body arching where it’s been relegated. Your chest feels hot and heavy despite the little clothing. You’re hoping for the moment where he’ll tease the hard nipples pressing against the flimsy lace of your bralet and the inside of your suit with the same intensity he’s depositing on your cunt.

Osamu, on the other hand, has no rush. You did this, gave this opportunity for him to wreck you, and he plans on enjoying it to the bitter end. He’s fairly surprised at how responsive you are, how quickly you melt for him, how vocal you can be despite doing little more than grunts and sighs. A thought flashes through his mind when he feels a renewed wave of wetness blossom against the fabric where his fingers are pressing, his lips turning in a self-satisfied smirk.

“Have you been so desperate for a good cock you’ve resorted to blackmail?” Your eyes snap open at his voice, a warm wave of something that you refuse to believe in being embarrassment depositing in your cheekbones. Osamu’s fingers prod harder against your entrance, fingers spreading against the wet fabric to your outer lips while his thumb keeps drawing endless circles around your clit. “Tsk, what a dirty move from an even dirtier slut.”

He slaps your clit once, then twice, his bulking frame preventing you from closing your legs against the sudden pain. Your body trembles on unsteady forearms. You choke on a breath and then release a moan, the sound outrageous to Osamu even as his cock throbs from it.

“Maybe I’ll give ya what you want.” The Miya teases, his voice sounding even despite the turmoil inside him. You look up at him with such eyes he could fool himself into thinking he wanted this.

His fingers teether on the edge of your underwear, rough fingertips just daring to cross into the emanating heat. Your hips twitch, the emptiness inside you accentuated by your muscles clenching around nothing, desire pouring out against the prodding fingertips. Osamu snorts, throws you a hard stare that is equal parts fire and contempt.

“You’re so wet. Are you enjoying this that much?” It drips acidic from his tongue against your neck, after he bends himself over you. From so close, Osamu’s warm breath is the same as a caress, his tongue teasing you with the way it threads over his lips but doesn't extend the courtesy to your skin. “You’re rather easy to rile up, hah? Or is it that you enjoyed playin’ with me before?” His teeth flash white above your head and you swallow around the desire of having them plunging on your skin. “How was it ya said? Foreplay, hah?”

You feel weirdly wound up inside your own skin, as if there’s not enough space and still a growing void inside you waiting for him to fill. It’s insane, it’s delicious, and a loud moan breaches your throat when Osamu plunges two fingers inside you without warning.

Your body arches in such a curve your breasts press against his chest, the relieving brush too shallow to register in your brain when you’re hyper fixated on the sensation brewing inside you.

It doesn’t even sting, instead you feel like your hunger escalates, fed by such little push that your want becomes need and for the first time in forever you actually consider asking for something.

Your mouth opens, and Osamu snickers. “What?” He presses his thumb over your clit fast, relinquishes in the way you groan, feels the way your insides beg him to keep going.

Still not enough though. He wants it ruined for you.

“Maybe I’ll just make you cum on my fingers right here.” He spreads, scissor and twists them inside you, enjoying the feeling of your tight walls clenching around him at his every move. Osamu’s skin feels on fire, body overheating, and the way your lips turn up to reveal a line of white teeth in glee has his gut twisting.

“You have a pretty loose tongue for such a quiet guy.” You look at him with semi-closed eyes, the victorious smile of the cat who got the mouse. “Maybe you like me more than you thoug--ahhhhh!”

Osamu shoves and prods around your insides for that special place even demons like you have and his assault is nothing short of merciless. Your eyes snap open at the force of his ramming, eyebrows furrowing at the way your pleasure seems to have forgone climb to skyrocket instead. Osamu watches in begrudging enchantment while your lips fall open to suck air into your breathless lungs and your eyes grow unfocussed, shoulders falling against the table so your hands can come to hold his arms but for what he doubts even you know.

He’s not stopping. Until he does.

You let out a noise like a wounded animal, tethering on the edge of mind numbing pleasure he won’t give you and when your body trembles from exertion of a denied orgasm instead of bliss, Osamu’s chest swells in pride.

“Whydidyoustop?” You lament in one breath, eyes are blinking back into focus, sweat and - oh he hopes those are tears - droplets dripping from the corner of your eyes while you turn to press your face on the cold metal surface of the table. “I was so close!” This time you rage, nails pressing against his skin enough to hurt.

“Wadidya mean?” Osamu tilts his head sideways, patronizing. “You didn’t ask for it. I’m just doing what you told me: being respectful.”

You laugh, still breathless, and turn to him in disbelief. “Fucker.”

“Not yet,” He corrects you, nuzzling his hips on your thighs. “Maybe if you ask nicely enough.”

Osamu retreats while you regulate your breath, letting your useless legs fall limp while both of his hands come to help your panties down, marveling at the way they’re peeled off your wet pussy lips. His cock aches and demands, but he’s used to reining in his dick. And he’s just started, anyway.

The Miya pushes you forward on the table, opening your legs wide like a treat. Your pussy is glistening, rhythmically calling for something to fill it while you leak. He plunges a finger back inside to watch you tremble, stimulation enough to make your eyes fall closed, long black lashes against beautiful sweaty skin.

“Look at this.” Osamu plunges a second finger inside, opening them wide enough to sting. “What a desperate whore.”

Your mind is swirling in urge, but you refuse to spill the words on your tongue. It would give you what you want, but at what cost? Osamu looks positively ferocious above you, dark eyes focused on your every move; it sends shivers through your spine, your body trembling and blossoming for him once again. You’re in your personal heaven, in company of the devil himself.

Osamu kneels again in front of your open legs, hook one on his shoulder while he holds the other thigh forcefully up with a grip so hard your muscle aches under his fingers. But you don’t care, in fact you sigh “more” for him right as his breath teases your folds.

“No.” He tells you, two fingers pumping at leisure. His tongue slurps at your inner thigh, teeth closing in a bite with nothing to sooth.

“Fuck.” You breathe out in a groan and his smirk is pronounced against your skin.

Osamu, as you’re learning, is a tease.

His moves are soft, lacking in everything but aim; his tongue moves along the sensitive parts of your body you’ve never really cared for, like the plush flesh of your thighs, underside of your ass, the juncture of your groin. He has yet to taste you but you feel wounded, body constricted under weak ministrations, feather-like teases. It sinks with a piercing revelation that you could cum like this -- in an unfulfilled manner with not-good-enough touches that somehow have made your body feel raw like an exposed nerve in which the minimum touch would be enough to warrant waves of pleasure.

When his tongue comes to thread along your slit slowly, nose caressing along his way, your body clenches and threatens to spasm around unmoving fingers. You’re so close, so close, your body is ready to burst, fraying at the seams of a control you’re not using, your hands flying to try and find your clit at the same time Osamu’s eyes flash and he holds it, presses it forcefully against your belly while his lips slurp at your folds, circle your clit, but it’s so soft, it’s fucking unfair.

“Goddammit, Osamu!” You scream, enraged at the way your second orgasm flies away from you as his fingers leave your quivering hole, his mouth doing nothing more than lap at your overflowing juices with no real worry, no urgency.

“Oh, look at that.” The Miya smirks, drawing back up to look at your disheveled state; flustered, sweating, dripping and unattended. “You wanted a taste.” His hand comes back to your cunt, fingers thread along puffy lips. “I’m giving it to you.”

“You bastard.” His fingers leave your heat just to plunge inside again, a loud gushing sound following it. “Shit.” You sigh while falling back, and Osamu feels his cock throb once more at how breathless you sound.

Your mind works around the feeling of being spread so far you feel as if you’re paper thin. Your mind goes rushing in its last attempt at working. Osamu looks self-satisfied, almost content, so you know where to hit. You want it, so you find a way to have it.

“Oh, poor Miya--” You coo at him with a hoarse voice in glazed eyes, but the condescending tone is clear as day. “Are you trying to hurt me?” You plant a hand on his black hair, pulling at it enough to hurt. “‘Cause I like pain.”

Fire explodes in his eyes and you tighten around his fingers in response, but other than his frown, Osamu remains calm.

He slams three fingers inside before you can mouth any new words, smirks down at you with mischief when you tremble and bite your lips to hold the noises in, eyes falling back closed to hide the way they turn inside your skull. His other hand is holding your thigh forcefully open once again and his palm presses with hurtful intention, fingertips buried in your flesh so hard his digitals may mark you for days.

“Let you cum on my fingers and nothing else, is that going to be enough for you?” Osamu snarls against your ear, hot breath tickling your jaw. His hips hold you open to his assault at your pussy and his hand abandons your thigh to glide over your body and close around your throat.

Osamu squeezes hard.

“Then again I could ruin your orgasm for the third time.” He bends over you, his lips right in front of your sight; eyes looking down at you with such fire you almost wonder if they’re the cause for the burn in your lungs. “Leave you writhing on the table, empty, until you learn to have a little respect.”

This.

Your lips spread in a smile almost maniacal, goosebumps rising on your skin as if you’re electrified. This is what you’ve wanted all along -- passion, fearless assault of words, electrifying pleasure; and also, the detachment, the murderous intent, all merging together in one perfect Osamu Miya. Shit, you think to yourself, at this hate you may actually come from his teasing alone.

“You talk too much for someone who didn't make me cum yet.” You pour gasoline into his fire.

Osamu pulls you up by the lapels of your suit, button flying open at the hastiness, your breasts protected by such a flimsy piece of lace you’re surprised it doesn’t turn to ash at his stare. Your hard nipples mark the white bralet, the air feeling cold at how hot they are.

A hand covered in your juices closes on your cheeks, forcefully opening your lips at the threat of pain, his fingers with lingering heat from your insides.

“Such a big mouth, should I shut you up?” Osamu asks you, eyes boring on yours. The plea is on the point of your tongue as if he’d shoved his hand inside you to yank it himself, and it tips out when his dark eyes steal one single snippet of your smeared red lips open by his hands.

“Fuck me.”

He nods negatively, presses hard enough that your teeth could cut your inner cheeks. He relents and your tongue grazes your lips, moistening them for his eyes.

Osamu smiles, a tilt of his lips up but so earnestly you’re almost hopeful, then: “No.”

Even if as he says it, it’s a lie. He knows he’ll fuck you, but right now he’s enjoying the build-up, toying with you as if you’re his plaything and not the opposite. You growl and curse, head falling back when he palms at your covered breasts, push the lace up, hears the way it strains and threatens to rip.

It’s oddly relatable -- Osamu also feels taut, stretched around a fleeting control that he feels will slip with one dip inside you. His past sexual experiences involved partners who he cherished and few one-night stands which, for the small time his dick was inside them, he was mindful and cared for their pleasure.

Right now, while he pinches and palm at your body, he has not a single worry about your pleasure and all the concern about his. This is for him. He bends his head over your bosom, sucks a nipple inside the hot cave of his mouth and bites. As his cock twitches and aches inside his trousers, he relishes in the pained noises you leave, even when they’re marked by breathless arousal.

“You sure are fucked up. Look how much you’re enjoying this.” His fingers force the howl of your cheeks, feeling your teeth nicking the insides of your mouth even through layers of flesh. There’s an infuriating elation in your expression, and Osamu retaliates by sucking harshly on your skin, teeth finding soft places to close on.

You moan loudly and his hand slides back onto your throat in the motion. Your hand shots up from the table to find his hard dick and your laugh makes his blood boil. “Clearly I’m not the only one.”

His heartbeat spikes at the words, even if Osamu knows it. The twin pulls the suit jacket half-down your arms and slams your body on the slight cold surface of the metal table, noise sounding thunderous but still no one comes after you.

Your skin erupts in goosebumps at the aggression, blood flying so fast through your heart you feel lightheaded. You’re about to spit some more fire into Osamu when two of his fingers gag you, other hand descending on your ass with such force and so unexpectedly your legs give out, dangling from the table as if you’re a ragdoll.

Something remarkably close to a whine turning sob slides through your throat and dies at Osamu’s fingers, just as something big and hot surges over your ass cheeks. Something coils on your chest, the emotion makes your eyes water and for a moment you blink it away, thanking the new position doesn’t let Osamu catch that.

Too soon. Osamu pulls your head back as his hand peels the globes of your ass apart and before you can breathe, the little air inside you is being knocked out with one thrust of Osamu’s hip.

He forces his dick inside you, tearing you open as your walls make way for his aggression, wetness dripping while Osamu fills you to the hilt, because yes, that's what you want. You want his hate, his passion, you want Osamu to tear you apart while you enjoy every second of it.

“‘Samu!” His name is on your lips as your eyes roll back, whole body tensing until you’re falling, just like that.

Then he retreats. “Fuck! Fuck no!” This time it’s a wail, a sob as your third orgasm turns to ashes, your insides trembling with nothing to hold, empty and meager pleasure.

“Wha--Cummin’ already? Nope.” The twin laughs above you, hands tilting your head painfully back. “So embarrassing.” Osamu mocks you and you swear you can feel a renewed wave of cream slide down your insides to greet the head of his cock, nudging along your swollen lips. Your tongue feels so heavy on your mouth, parched and breathless all at once, no way out but silence.

“You are disgusting, you know that? Such a greedy fucking pussy doesn’t deserve to be this tight.”

Your laugh turns into a deep moan when Osamu hits deep inside you. “God yes.” You twist one hand out of the suit’s sleeve just to pull him by the hem of his blouse, your nails digging against the skin of his neck, blooming red yelts. “Talk shit to me Osamu. I know you have better lines.”

“Fuck you.” The twin spits, his hips pistoning harder against yours until he just stops the motion, leaves you open and gapping for him to fill you again. “Of course a pig like ya has the hots for humiliation. Look at that, the slut’s pussy squeezing around my dick because she thinks I'm doing this for her pleasure.” His hand comes down on the other side of your ass, where he hasn't hit yet. It stings, but the way his palm massages and grabs at it before almost soothes the burn. “Disgusting sluts don’t get to say anything, not even begging will get you what you want. I decide what you get."

You look back from your shoulder to see his cock is standing proud and angry, swollen head shining red and dripping translucent white, as if he hadn't been wet from your juices before. Osamu’s big, especially thick and he presses inside you again without giving you time to adjust, unforgiving pace right from the start.

You curse at the way one of your hands keeps locked behind you by your suit, your nails digging on your own skin without anything else to find purchase on; the other tries to grab onto Osamu to no avail, falling on the table to help support yourself at the strength of his pounding. Your mouth is open, divided between sucking breaths and puffs of air. Osamu’s hand has since found purchase in your neck, the way he forces it back painful, the pressure on your throat growing and ceasing as he wishes.

Still, you can’t think. Your mind is lost in a sea of searing pleasure, your nipples pressed against the metal surface as Osamu finally fucks you as you’ve been dreaming. No, maybe even better. The past men you’ve fucked had all been afraid of hurting you, careful with retaliation. As Osamu fists your hair and forcefully presses you against the table; you think you may be having a religious experience. Your eyes water from the force of his manhandling, tears spilling while you left unbelievable noises fall from your lips. You want to scream and laugh, a hot sensation spreading from your fingertips to your core.

The wave of the orgasm is forming quickly, your toes curling against the insides of your Louboutins enough to hurt, the incessant pounding of Osamu’s hips against your ass sounding downright pornographic. As the peak approaches, doubt gnaws at your chest for the first time in forever.

The simple thought of Osamu robbing you of your orgasm this time is enough to make your whole body tremble and recoil, your mind too slow to catch on to his intentions. You consider biting your tongue to hold the plea in, but as you bolt into mind-blowing pleasure you’ve never even imagined before, the alternative feels like dying.

You’re tethering the edge and you feel Osamu pressing harder against you, and you break. “Please!” You cry out, “Pleasepleaseplease, don’t stop.” His movements slow down and halt, and the hand on your ass slides around you, a single finger taps repeatedly on your swollen clit.

“Say it.” He all but howls at your ear, bites on it for good measure.

“Please, ‘samu, let me fucking cum!” You beg but you’re already falling over, whole body shuddering just from the way he nudges his hips against your ass and taps on your sensitive bundle of nerves. Panic surges in between your pleasure that he’ll ruin this one when he retreats from your quivering insides, but Osamu rams back inside you with such power that your head rattles, hips hurting from the impetus of his fucking.

Sound rings in your ear while you drown in the thunderous waves of your pleasure for what feels like forever. It flows and flows and flows to a point you can’t tell if you’re seeing black or just closed your eyes.

Osamu watches, enthralled, how you go completely boneless under him. Your insides have stopped squeezing him tight but his hard, aching cock still throbs inside your heat. It’s honestly unbelievable how tight you feel around him, how fantastic he feels buried balls deep inside your walls. He had to stop trying to fuck you through your orgasm in worry he’d may cum. Poison and pleasure curl in his chest at the thought. Osamu feels like spanking you, choking you, to punish you for this undeserving heaven you have between your thighs.

But he’s not done yet.

Osamu retreats, the slide of his cock leaving your delicious walls -- cold air from outside so less welcoming -- and you sag on the table. He pulls you up on unsteady legs and smirks, proud. Your bare feet touch the ground and Osamu spins you around, swallowing on a tight throat after one look at your disheveled blissful state, but then he retreats and let’s you collapse to the ground.

The image of your legs sliding open on the cold tiled floor, unsteady hands finding purchase to hold your torso up while your head looks up at him in outrage is one he sears in his mind, a wicked satisfaction sliding over his spine at the sight alone. The wreck of you at his feet, by his hands, nothing short of perfect.

His cock throbs and pulses in front of your eyes, dragging your attention and Osamu steps closer, poses one hand on the top of your head, ruins the rest of your styled hair by dragging fingertips in it.

You’re still lightheaded, shockwaves making you twitch on the cold floor and Osamu is elated at how wrecked you look, makeup smeared, hair disheveled, body holded up by unsteady arms. Your lips are open, between breathless pulls of air and heavy exhales, but Osamu doesn't care, hands forcefully tugging your hair back and angling your mouth at his swelled cockhead. He counts as a win that you don’t bite him, your tongue threading flat on the underside of his length as he buries himself on your throat.

There’s resistance, so the Miya retreats, forcing it back a few other times until it finally slides a few inches more inside. While he maintains the force over your hair, his other hand engulfs your chin, thumb breaching your lips to hold your mouth open despite the fact you don’t make any move to close it.

It feels his chest with acidic bitterness that you welcome his aggression, glazed, tearful eyes looking up at him as if the fact he’s using you as little more than a cocksleeve is the brightest part of your day. Still, Osamu’s skin feels close to tearing under the sheer amount of pleasure flooding his insides. His hairs are standing on end, heart beating so fast his lungs burn, every muscle on his body tensed at his mindless pursuit of his high. He buries his cock deep inside the tight space of your throat, your gurgles and groaning enhancing his sensation. It looks painful to you to hold him inside, tears ending your makeup, face turning red at the lack of air. He closes both hands behind your head, making you nuzzle his pelvis even as your nails close on his thighs threatening to break skin.

He retreats to let you breathe just as your eyes go unfocused, feels something squeezing inside as you cough and wheezes and his throat squeezes a large gulp of air when you look up at him, tongue hanging out with a wide-open mouth just offered for him.

Osamu feels like hurting you at how good you are, infuriatingly obedient and willing to be at the end of his aggression. So he buries himself back inside at one go, both hands holding your head for him. There’s too much chaos inside of him, so he decides to pour some out through words.

“You like being used like this, huh? Like little more than a fucking cocksleeve for me.”

“What is it? Does being in power make you this needy? Does being wrecked make you feel this good?” Your groan makes your throat tighter around him, your eyes rolling back from his fucking and degradation.

It’s unfair, infuriatingly so, that this might be the most unbelievable great sex he ever had.

Osamu can’t hold back much longer, everything feeling just too good, his skin burning at the stretch of the tourbillion of emotions inside his chest, the captivating sight of tears dropping from your jaw and coating your long lashes as your face darkens by the lack of air, swollen lips stretched beyond capacity around his cock while you willingly let him go harder, faster, into your tight throat. There’s a warm sensation flowing from his limbs to his spine, melting his bones and weighing on his balls until it spreads over Osamu’s whole being.

He pulls back from your throat in time but presses his hands on your jaw and hair to keep you up and open as he coats your wrecked face with hot spurts of cum -- the final touch to the perfection of your wrecked image at his feet.

It lands haphazardly over your lips and even your eyelashes, tear-stained mess of a face marked by his essence. Osamu tells himself he could never feel anything towards you, but for a second there’s a hint of territorial pride at how you look -- and how it is all his doing. The twin is still swimming in searing pleasure as you lick over your lips, hands almost fondly landing over his as if you're assuring him that he can let go.

He does, trying to step back and slowly descending onto the ground when his knees give out. His eyes are glued to how his cum is dripping from your chin onto your chest, how you bring your fingers to sweep over it and end it by cleaning the digits with your tongue. If Osamu’s cock wasn’t so spent, he’s sure it’d swell right back up at the sight alone.

“Can’t say what’s better,” your hoarse voice is barely above a murmur, “the taste or the feeling.”

As you’re standing on unsteady legs and already fixing yourself while he sits on the floor questioning his life choices, Osamu feels as if he’d made a deal with the devil, and you’ll be coming back to collect his soul.

“Seems like the start of a nice partnership, doesn’t it?”

#osamu miya smut #osamu miya #osamu miya hq #haikyuu smut #tw dubcon #thesmutpilecollab #hq fanfic #osamu miya x reader

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djarrex · 4 years ago

Text

Countermeasures || 1

Archives

Fives x ofc!reader

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Rating: 18+

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: mentions of lust? is that a warning? otherwise, nothing yet ;)

chapter summary: Renna (you), an intern who spent the entirety of her internship thus far filing paperwork in the archives of Tipoca City’s medical wing, finally is able to work with a real patient - that patient just so happens to be Fives.

note: Renna will basically be taking the place of AZI-3 in the Conspiracy arc. A lot of the dialogue I wrote is from the episode, and of course I added more to dig deeper into Renna and Fives as characters. When this idea came in my head I was only planning on writing it as a oneshot. As I starting writing this, however, I realized there was so much more that could be done with it since this arc is both a good one and a sad one. If you’re ready to go on this journey with me, then keep going under the cut! <3 Also, I wanted to add that there will be POV changes in this chapter. I don’t know if I’ll stick with that going forward, but we’ll see.

* tbh special thanks to @bvcketfvcker for coming up with the series title and being da Best™

***

The archives of the medical wing in Tipoca City, the capital of the watery planet Kamino, were always so cold and lonely. Every single day of your internship thus far has included you being nearly drowned in paperwork, no real field experience to show for it.

You’ve been on Kamino for your medical internship for what, close to six months now? You were still stuck doing paperwork. Maybe at the six month mark you’d be moved up to sterilizing all the medical equipment, which would seem terrible to anyone else, but at least you’d be in proximity to anything remotely “medical”. You were longing to get your hands dirty, to start real field experience, to learn how to heal. You wanted to help people, to help anyone in need. You wanted to learn the practices for saving someone’s life. Everything you wanted, you could not get if you were stuck in the archives with paperwork as your only companion.

You decided within your first month that you would not let the paperwork and lack of real purpose get to you. So, you made your situation better by wearing - to the best of your ability - a positive attitude. On the day that marked the end of your first month here, the Kaminoans told you that music can be played in the archives as long as it’s not too loud, so you brought in a small radio the very next day. The start of your second month was a little better than the day before. You hummed to the music playing on the radio as you tried to make a game out of filing the paperwork. Turns out, not even a simple game could be made out of something so boring and tedious as filing paperwork.

You lost count of the days you’ve been in Tipoca City, within the archives shelled by the stilted dome structures, after your second month. Every day was exactly the same; you filed and shredded paperwork, organized reports, and finished filling out medical reports that the Kaminoan doctors didn't even want to bother with. Every day you woke up early, headed to the archives, and spent your entire day there in solitude until it was time to head back to your quarters for the night. Lunch was always dropped off to you by a couple of guards from the Kamino Security Team. The guards were always in full grey and white armor but you already knew what they looked like; they were clones, and you’ve seen their face in every file. They were handsome, sure, but there were literally hundreds of thousands of them out there.

You were pretty sure you were coming up on month six of your monotonous internship. Waking up and getting ready was a routine ingrained in your bones. You were taking the regular route to the archives from your quarters when you were stopped by a couple Kaminoan doctors on the way. To your surprise, they asked you to follow them, which you were hoping translated to you not having to work in the archives anymore. Maybe month six was the lucky number.

You walked behind the tall and slender creatures through unfamiliar halls. You had no idea where you were following them to, but anywhere was better than where you were originally heading.

They kept walking, with you in tow, when you passed by the only Jedi you’ve ever really spoken to - Master Shaak Ti, a calm and collected Togruta who was known to have a soft spot for the clones here on Kamino. The Jedi nodded in greeting to the Kaminoans in front of you, then over at you. With no words spoken, you were now following the Jedi through the halls, still unsure of the destination.

Just around the corner, you saw two very decorated troopers coming towards you. They donned blue and white armor with a ton of other accessories. As they got closer, the one trooper removed his helmet and carried it at his side. This trooper had the usual dark brown hair and kept the common clone cut style. The way this clone walked with his helmet pressed to his hip had awoken something in you, though you couldn't put your finger on exactly what that something was.

“General Shaak Ti.” The other clone removed his helmet as he greeted the Jedi. He was blonde and sported a closely shaved cut; despite having the same face and body, the two clone troopers looked completely different. They were unlike any clones you’ve ever seen.

That’s when you noticed another trooper laying on a stretcher behind them; his hair was long enough to be worn in a bun, a tear drop was inked underneath one of his closed eyes. He was also unlike any clone you’ve ever seen - especially since he appeared to be unconscious, He was hooked up to oxygen, you also noticed, as two guards pushed his floating stretcher right by you and around the corner, out of sight once they went down the hall.

You realized how zoned out you were and quickly snapped back to reality - only for only a second, though - as you became transfixed on the clone in front of you on the right, the one with dark hair. You scanned his features a little more now that he was closer; he had a dark goatee that framed his chin and his right temple had the number “5″ inked on the skin. His armor was crazy different from the armor the guards here wore. He looked... good. Uh oh.

For just a brief moment, the “good looking” trooper’s eyes broke away from his conversation with the Jedi and met yours. Slightly embarrassed, you snapped your head forward and glued your eyes to the Kaminoan’s ankles in front of you.

Just as you started listening in on the conversation, the two clones, the Jedi General, and Dr. Nala Se broke away and turned the corner in the same direction they took the unconscious trooper.

Kriff. You missed the entire conversation. The Kaminoans started moving forward, and you assumed you were still supposed to follow them, so you did. You still had no clue where you were going, but you’ll get there eventually.

***

Fives’ POV

Fives walked to the left of Rex, a long-neck doctor in between them, while Tup’s unconscious body was guided by two Kamino guards behind them.

“You will have to say goodbye to your friend now.” The long-neck broke the silence. Fives was worried for his friend. No one, not even Kix, could figure out what was wrong with him. Why would Tup shoot and kill General Tiplar? Fives noticed Tup was acting somewhat strange right before it all happened, but didn’t think too much of it at the time, Now, he’s racking his brain, trying to understand what set Tup off. He’s a good soldier, a good man. He’d never do such a thing in his right mind.

It was suggested that Tup be sent to Tipoca City, to Kamino, back to his roots, for a better chance of figuring out what was wrong with him. Fives gladly accepted the offer to escort his friend there, and was overjoyed that Rex came along with them.

General Shaak Ti came into view, and the troopers came to a halt. Captain Rex greeted the General, and she turned her attention over to Fives.

“Fives, am I correct?” He nodded. Tup was being pushed from behind them and then around the corner in front of them, quickly going out of view. The General spoke again, her eyes glued on the unconscious trooper being led down the hall. “You’ve served with Tup?”

Fives was desperate to be by his friend’s side right now. “Yes.”

Then he saw you. You, a foreign species to Kamino. What were you doing here? It had been a while since Fives was last on Kamino, but he was sure there weren’t any others like you here before unless they were Jedi - but the only Jedi known to hang around Kamino was General Shaak Ti.

He had noticed you tailing the long-necks before you had even come entirely into view. Fives let his eyes flicker over to you as Tup was being taken away, only to have locked eyes with you for but a second. He noticed you blushed right before you snapped your head forward, obviously embarrassed that you’d been caught staring. General Shaak Ti’s voice broke Fives’ trance - didn’t even notice he was losing focus once he caught your eyes - and it was all over in less than five seconds.

“You must come with me.”

Fives quickly snapped his attention back to General Shaak Ti, “with... all due respect, General, I can’t just abandon him now.” The Jedi General smiled reassuringly, and turned to lead Fives and Rex down the hall in the same direction Tup was taken.

Fives knew where his undivided attention should be, and that was on Tup - his friend - his friend that for some reason just gunned down a Jedi in the heat of battle in the space station just outside of Ringo Vinda, only to come to with no memory of what he had done. Fives cursed himself for thinking of you when his friend was about to be strapped to an exam table, being poked and prodded like some kind of lab scurrier.

***

Renna’s POV

Dr. Nala Se, the Chief Medical Scientist on Kamino, approached you once you had gotten to the head medical lab and informed you that you’d be the one who would start procedures on a clone trooper who had potentially been exposed to a virus of some kind. You nodded, all too giddy as you gladly accepted the task.

You were escorted by two guards to where you’d be working with the patient. When the door whisked open, you slowly made your way into the quiet room, the door shutting quickly behind you. You glanced to the right, noticing the window that would normally allow you to see into the room next door was blacked out - put into the privacy setting. Strange.

“You?” The deep voice - a voice that sounded like honey in your ears - put a halt on your thoughts about the darkened window. You knew it was the voice of a clone; the only voices you ever heard were either the slow, drawn out words of the Kaminoans or the clones’. Of course a clone would be in that room, of course a clone would be the subject of your testing.

Who you didn’t expect to see was the clone trooper you saw in passing not even a half hour ago - the one with the dark goatee and number 5 tattooed on his temple - the one who made you blush when he caught you staring.

You felt yet another blush heat your cheeks before you even registered it was happening. What the hell were you blushing for? He’s a clone, and you’re here to take blood samples and body scans to make sure he’s okay. You knew you were staring at him like a fool, and for way too long. You shook your head slightly in an attempt to reorganize your thoughts.

“You ok, Miss... miss?” He stood up from his seating position on the cot, and cocked his head to the side with his arms folded across his chest. You nodded your head slowly.

“Renna,” you nearly whispered your name to him - the words almost came out choked - for some reason you had forgotten how to speak in Basic for a moment.

“Look, Miss Renna, I am not a threat. Neither is Tup.”

Your brow raised as you studied the clone’s expression. It was hard; his eyes were piercing and his brows were furrowed. Crossed arms flew to his sides, hands tightening into fists. No doubt he was feeling angry and confused.

“T- Tup?” Was that the name of CT-5385? “You’re referring to CT-5385?”

“Tup! The trooper in that room right there?” He pointed over to the darkened window, “He’s a good soldier, my friend, and he’s in the room next door getting - getting tortured by those long-necks.” A beat. “None of us clones go by numbers anymore, by the way.” You closed your eyes for just a moment, trying to think about what to say next. You inhaled deep through your nose, then slowly out through parted lips, watching as his expression went from angry to more... afraid? Worried?

“Trooper, I promise Tup is in good hands. I’ve been briefed on his- his condition... they - we - just want to find out what made him kill Jedi General Tiplar, that’s all. They’ve asked me to do a couple of procedures on you, take some notes, since you were close with Tup. Maybe we can find something in you that will help your friend.”

The trooper’s expression changed again, softening as his fists unclenched at his sides. Surely he had to understand the gravity of the situation; when you were briefed, it was mentioned that no one on Kamino had any idea why CT-53 - Tup - shot a Jedi General in cold blood, or why he keeps floating in and out of consciousness, murmuring things like “kill Jedi”. Clone trooper Tup seemed to have no memory of what he had done; and so far, no scans were showing anything wrong with him, though his health was deteriorating.

You walked over to the counter where the sterilized needles and scanners resided and started to prep the equipment, reading over notes to see what it is you needed and what you were supposed to be testing him for. Reading through the notes, you realized this trooper’s designation was ARC-5555, and the tattoo “5″ on his temple made sense now. It was actually kind of... cute.

It was silent for a couple minutes while you were getting everything ready when a loud, airy sigh coming from behind you made you turn around to face ARC-5555.

“The name’s Fives.”

***

Fives’ POV

Fives was getting more worried for Tup by the minute. His rising frustration didn’t help, either. General Shaak Ti had engaged the privacy setting on Fives’ only view of his unconscious friend, leaving him in the dark as to what the long-necks were doing to Tup in the room next door.

Fives sat in the room in silence, alone with his worries and doubts. You were out of his thoughts at this point; the worry and fear he felt for Tup swallowed him whole - until you were the one walking through the door. It could have been any Kaminoan, any droid, yet you were the one they had sent.

His eyes wide, he watched you slowly walk in as you immediately set your attention to the darkened window to the right side of the room. Fives wanted to know if you knew what they were doing to Tup, why they were hurting him, why Fives wasn’t able to be there by his side. He had a million questions, almost all of them relating to Tup, except for the ones he had about you.

Fives was sitting on a cot on the other side of the room, and you hadn’t noticed him yet. What is she doing here? Who is she? She definitely isn’t a long-neck. He wanted to ask you all kinds of questions, a mix between wanting to know more about Tup and wanting to know more about you, but all he could muscle out was one word.

“You?” Fives shook his head in disbelief as the first word he said to you left his lips. It did manage to get your attention, though, because you turned away from the dark window and were now staring directly at him. Fives felt his heart beat just a little harder when he could finally take in your whole figure in more than just a quick glance. You were beautiful - more beautiful than anything he’d ever seen, and wearing the same thing he saw you in earlier; a tucked-in dark grey skin-tight top that came up your neck like clone under-armor blacks did, a white lab coat that came down to your ankles, hugging your curves in all the right ways along the way. The coat was open in the front, save for the one buttoned part right at your waist, just barely keeping the coat together. Your black boots were knee-high, your black leggings tucked into them. You stepped closer to Fives and his heart started racing; he was completely in awe of you, but there was something else, and it made warmth head straight to his groin.

***

Renna’s POV

Fives. That was his name. Not ARC-5555 , just like Tup wasn’t CT-5385. “No clones go by numbers anymore,” he had informed you. Being waist-deep in paperwork all the time never gave you an opportunity to actually work with the clones. All you knew about the clones were their designations, along with whatever the paperwork was filed for. It didn’t occur to you that they had names.

“Look, is Tup gonna be alright? Have they found anything out?” Fives’ eyes were pleading, begging for some kind of reassurance.

“Please, sit down.” He huffed, but obeyed. “We’re using hyper level tests, so we should get the results fairly quickly.” He nodded his head, thankful for any little crumb you could give him. “I’m gonna need to get started now, okay?”

Needle in hand and ready to go, you preemptively apologized.

“Wh- ow!” You jabbed the needle into the side of his neck, a sympathetic smile on your lips.

“I said I was sorry!” You chuckled quietly. Fives rubbed at his neck and you made you way back over to the counter, inserting the needle into the port next to the computer.

“Well?” His hand still rubbing at his neck, you squinted your eyes to read the results displayed on the screen.

“Everything... seems normal.” You weren’t exactly sure what to expect, but you were happy your very first patient wasn’t immediately dying on you.

“Oh, great! That means you can let me out, right?” The excited tone in his voice made it quite difficult to relay the next part to him.

With an apologetic smile, you walked back over and sat on the cot across from him.

“Actually... I’m afraid that’s not possible right now, Fives. I was instructed to keep you in quarantine until we’ve pinpointed the exact cause of Tup’s breakdown. We can’t risk any further casualties.” You couldn't bear to look at him now, so you glued your eyes to a fresh scuff mark on the toe of your boot.

“Like I told you before, I am not a threat, and neither is Tup!” You looked back up at him when his voice raised. Fives wasn’t angry, or at least it didn’t appear that way. He was worried for his friend.

“I- I believe you, Fives. Unfortunately, I’m not the one to make those kinds of calls. I’m just- just an intern. This is my first day not filing paperwork in the archives. I don’t- I don’t want to mess this up. You’re my first real patient.” You stood up to leave the room, letting your hand rest on his shoulder for just a moment in an attempt to comfort him. Something you never thought you’d be doing - comforting a clone. You told him you’d be back later to check up on him and to perform any tests the doctors deemed necessary. Then you left.

***

As you headed for your quarters for the night, you couldn’t help but think back on your introductory meeting with your very first patient. You replayed your short conversation over and over in your head; you transfixed on his voice, the raw emotion in it that went straight to his facial expressions, and the way he looked at you. You’ve seen his face many, many times in the files you were doused with daily, but most of the clones on Kamino didn’t have anything significant to mark them apart from one another - no scars, tattoos, different hair styles, and were generally clean-shaven. When you first saw Fives, his tattoo and facial hair was what did it for you. You hated to admit it, but you may have just accidentally gotten a crush on the ARC Trooper.

This was all new to you. You never realized clones had such... emotion. Or capable of such emotion, for that matter. You were kept in the dark for the entirety of your internship on Kamino, and now you understood why. You weren’t Kaminoan, you weren’t a Jedi, you were just an intern. In their eyes, there was no reason as to why you should engage the clones, so they kept you busy with paperwork every day. You wondered if you were physically kept away from the clones because you were also human, and therefore were able to share the same emotion and ideals as them. That idea wouldn’t have made sense to you if you thought about it earlier today, but now that you met Fives, it made sense.

Maybe the Kaminoans were fearful that you would be a distraction to them, or them to you.

***

Tags: @bvcketfvcker @deewithani @chromia7567

#djarrex writes #countermeasures series #arc trooper fives x you #arc trooper fives x reader #arc trooper fives x oc #fives x reader #fives x oc #fives x you #fives smut #arc trooper fives smut #the clone wars fic #conspiracy arc #the clone wars conspiracy arc #arc trooper fives #captain rex #clone trooper tup

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smallheathgangsters · 5 years ago

Text

Gunshot | T.S.

A/N: I FINALLY finished up my first request and it turned out waaaay too long lol. I hope this won’t be happening with every request I work on. Again, please consider the fact that English is NOT my first language, but I appreciate any feedback you guys give me! <3

Request: “Would you do 18. “How could I not worry about you” and 22. “We are not just friends and you know it too.” With Tommy Shelby and a reader who’s Ada’s best friend?” by Anon

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Word Count: 2760

Type: Fluff, some hurt/comfort

Summary: Tommy and Y/N spend a night together, but never speak about it again. That changes, when Tommy’s business plans have a dangerous impact on the lives of people he loves.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ada and you had been best friends since she found you hiding under a bridge, crying about a boy at the age of fourteen. She was the one to cheer you up, bring you back to her home and make you a cup of tea. She tried her best to make you laugh and gave you countless hugs to make you feel loved and cared about. That was also the moment you realised you would never want to let her go.

Years passed and Ada had her son, Karl and lost her husband, Freddie. And you stayed by her side though all of it. The bond you two had was stronger than any relationship either of you ever had. Even when Ada started getting more and more involved in the Peaky business, you supported her every step of the way. That was also the reason why her family liked you very much.

You started working as a teacher in Small Heath, so whenever you had finished up your work at school after the kids had left, you strolled over to the Shelby company to pick up Ada and walk home with her, while you talked about your day. She usually wasn’t quite ready to leave when you arrived, but you didn’t mind. There was always somebody around to hang out with and have a laugh. While you got along with all the boys, you especially enjoyed Tommy’s company. He would often invite you into his office for a drink, asking you about your day and if you still hadn’t considered working with them for the Shelby Company Limited. But you loved your job as a teacher too much to give it up. You adored the kids you taught, and they liked you back just as much, even the boys.

“In what world does being a secretary sound more fun than being a teacher?” You laughed, shaking your head.

“I’m sure you’d be paid more than double of what you earn now.” Tommy replied while shoving a cigarette between his lips and lighting a match. It made a hissing sound when it caught fire.

You leaned against the armrest of the chair opposite Tommy’s desk. “You know I don’t care about money. I care about happiness.”

Tommy leaned back into his chair, exhaling the smoke of his cigarette slowly and letting his arm hang loosely from the side of his chair. “Maybe I should start caring about that a little bit more myself.” He sighed.

“You should’ve been doing that since after coming back from the war, Tommy. You and your brothers deserve it. You all deserve all the happiness on earth.”

Tommy locked his eyes with yours. His intense gaze made your heart skip a beat.

“I agree.” Tommy said with a little smile dancing at the corners of his mouth. “You really wouldn’t fit into this working environment.”

You pushed yourself off the armrest and folded your arms. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Tommy flicked the ashes off his smoke. “That was a compliment, Y/N. I think the kids you teach are very lucky to have you.”

Your body relaxed when he finished his sentence. “Thank you.”

Suddenly you heard a knock at Tommy’s office’s door. That had to be Ada. Only a second after, the door was being opened and Ada popped her head into the room. “Ready?”

You twirled around, facing your best friend and nodded happily. Then you turned back to Tommy, raised your glass and finished the whiskey you had been holding in your hand for the last ten minutes. “Thank you for the drink, Tommy. See you tomorrow.”

You put down the glass and skipped over to your best friend, putting your arm around her. “Let’s get out of here!”

***

The next day you pushed through the entrance of the Shelby Company Limited, planning on picking up Ada, like every other day. “Hey boys!”

John looked up from his books and grinned at you. “Hey Y/N.”

You walked over to him, peeking over his shoulders. “Is Ada still here?” You asked.

“No.” John answered, shaking his head. “She finished early today and went home to catch up some sleep. She hoped you didn’t mind.”

You chuckled. Of course, you didn’t. You knew how hard she worked and with having more responsibility came longer hours at the shop and less hours of sleep. “Not at all.”

“I’m sure she’ll be waiting for you again tomorrow evening.”

“No worries, John.” You told him. “I guess I’ll better get going before it gets too late.”

John waved you goodbye and just as you turned towards the exit, you heard a deep voice clear its throat. “How about a drink in my office?”

You glanced over your shoulder just to spot Tommy leaning against the door frame of his office, cigarette between his fingers.

You hesitated a moment. You had planned on getting home early to get started with the housekeeping for the week because the task was already way overdue. But you just couldn’t say no the handsome Shelby man.

Therefore, you shrugged and smiled at him, letting your coat glide off your shoulders. “Sure, why not.”

You followed Tommy into his office and took a seat in one of the two chairs in front of his table. He usually chose to sit in his seat behind the desk but today, he surprisingly sat down into the one next to you. Then he grabbed two glasses, placed them in front of you and filled them both with the perfect amount of whiskey.

“Thank you.” You said and took one of the glasses into your hands, staring down at the dark liquid.

You could hear him lighting up a cigarette, taking a long drag and letting out a relaxed sigh. “Has anyone ever told you that your presence is pleasantly soothing?”

You let out a weak laugh. “Soothing? Ada usually calls me loud and overexcited, but I could really get used to your compliments instead of hers.”

Your comment made Tommy chuckle. “Maybe with her you are. But–“

“Hold up!” You interrupted him, sitting up in your chair and giving him a playful slap on the arm. “Are you agreeing with Ada and also calling me loud and annoying?”

He let out another chuckle. “I never said you were annoying. But I do say that you are very different around me than you are around her.”

“I am?”

He nodded. “In a good way. I really enjoy your company.”

You felt yourself blush. Tommy had always been exceptionally nice to you. Ada frequently made comments about how Tommy got weak around you, but you’d changed the subject every time she brought it up.

“I really enjoy your company too.” You replied, giving him a shy smile.

At that point you could already feel this evening taking a turn you never expected. After about three glasses of the dark liquor one thing led to the another and you ended up climbing on top of Tommy, straddling him in the chair he had been sitting in and connecting your lips with his. They were soft and warm and tasted of his cigarettes. Even though you knew this was a mistake, nothing was stopping you in that moment and you could tell that nothing was holding Tommy back either. All you wanted at that point was to savour this moment with him, knowing that this would probably be the first and last time your bodies would be this close to each other.

***

After that night, Tommy and you never spoke about what had happened that night. You weren’t sure if it was because he wanted to forget about it or if he just wasn’t that big of a deal for him. Either way, the next few evenings he didn’t invite you into his office and you waited for Ada while chatting to either John or Arthur.

One Sunday afternoon you met up with Ada to go to town and shop for a new dress. You had saved up some money and wanted to treat yourself to something nice. Of course, Ada wouldn’t want to miss out on a shopping trip.

“Karl’s been driving me up the walls lately!” She whined while you two were strolling from one store to another. “Has he been any different in class?”

Ada had been lucky, and Karl ended up having you as his teacher. “Not that I noticed.”

She sighed. “I hope it’s a phase that he gets over quickly. I can’t handle him not doing anything I tell him and constantly having to look out for him.”

“If you ever need a break, you can always bring him over to my house.” You offered with a kind smile. She returned your smile with an even bigger one. “Thank you, Y/N. You really are the best!”

You came to a stop in front of a shop that displayed plain but elegant dresses in its window. Your eyes fell on a dark purple one. You imagined yourself wearing it but immediately felt uneasy. All you’ve ever wished for the last couple of months was Tommy to take you on a date and wearing a beautiful dress to impress him. But with him keeping his distance since that one night, you knew your wish would never come true and suddenly shopping for dresses felt like a waste of time.

“Ada?”

“Hm?”

You took a deep breath and said. “I never really told you about something that happened between me and Tommy …”

You told her about that night you wanted to pick her up, but she wasn’t at work, how Tommy invited you to keep him company and what happened after that. Ada was very excited for you but understood, that you felt uncomfortable about the situation you were in now. She was also not very happy about her brother avoiding you ever since.

“Typical Tommy!” She hissed. “I’m sorry you have to feel that way.”

“It’s not your fault.” You said. “And maybe I should have realised that kissing him wasn’t a good idea. I’ve known Tommy for quite some time now.”

Ada shook her head. “That’s exactly the reason he should treat you differently. He’s known you for so long, you’ve been friends for years and–“

Ada was suddenly interrupted by a loud bang. A gunshot. Two gunshots. At first, you didn’t know where they came from and where they were aimed at but when all of a sudden you heard Ada scream at the top of her lungs and a sharp pain spread in the area of your shoulder, you knew you’d been the target.

Your knees got weak and your body collapsed to the ground. The last thing you saw was Ada leaning over you and holding your hand before your eyelids got too heavy to stay open.

***

The smell of cigarettes was lingering in the air when you woke up. You opened your eyes quickly, trying to push yourself up from the bed you were lying on but you instantly got shoved back into your previous position.

“Careful, Y/N.”

Ada’s voice was soft. She was looking down at you soothingly. “But I’m glad you’re awake.”

“Me too.” You mumbled, still a little bit confused about what had happened and where you were.

Ada seemed to have read your mind. “Don’t worry. We’re at Tommy’s.”

You relaxed, nodding. “Is my shoulder okay?”

“According to the circumstances.” She said with a chuckle. “I mean, you were shot. But you’ll be fine.”

“Thank you for bringing me here and taking care of me.” You told her.

“Oh, don’t thank me.” Ada said. “Tommy was the one who carried you all the way here and took care of your wound.”

You raised your eyebrows. “He did?”

Ada nodded. “He really cares about you, you know. He may have seemed cold the last few days, but I don’t think his feelings have changed.”

She grabbed your hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’d better go and tell him that you’re up.”

Then she turned around and left the room. You sighed and tilted your head downward slightly, trying to get a better look at the wound but only spotted the white bandage that had been wrapped around your entire shoulder and upper part of your chest.

“There’s nothing to see there.” You heard Tommy’s voice. You looked up and saw him standing in the doorframe.

“May I come in?” He asked carefully. You nodded. “Of course.”

He approached the bed you were lying in, pulled a chair next to it and sat down. “Y/N, I–“

He sighed and ran his hand over his face. He looked tired. “Y/N, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay–“ You tried to say but he interrupted you.

“No, it’s not. And it’s my fault.” He said, pulling up his chair even closer to the edge of the bed. “I should have known they were up to something and I should have known that they were going to it the ugly way.”

You hated how Tommy was blaming himself. Yes, maybe he could have known. Maybe he could have prevented it. But in the end, you knew he would never do something to harm you on purpose. And by bringing you home to his house and patching you up, he had shown he cared and that was all that mattered to you.

“Tommy, I’m fine.” You said, giving him an encouraging smile. “We’re all still alive and I don’t want you beating yourself up because of this. Knowing that you worried about me is all I care about.”

Tommy gave you a shocked look. “How could I not worry about you?”

You shrugged, blushing a little bit.

“You’re not just Ada’s friend but also mine and I care about you just as much as she does.” He stated.

That sentence made you gulp. It was sweet but had a bitter aftertaste. The pictures in your head from that specific evening were making it hard to think straight.

Right away, Tommy noticed that there was something bothering you. “What is it, Y/N?”

“I know you’ve been avoiding me the last few days after our … incident, if you want to call it that, but we are not just friends and you know it too.” You blurted out, not being able to hold back your words.

“Y/N–“ He started but you wouldn’t let him speak. “I’ve known you for quite some time now and I know you have a hard time admitting your feelings, especially to yourself. But I want you to know that you’ve made me feel very uncomfortable by going out of my way and not talking to me about what happened.”

You could feel tears forming at the corners of your eyes and that made you feel even more stupid than you felt admitting your feelings to Tommy. You closed your eyes, trying to ignore the chaos of emotions that overcame you.

Suddenly you felt Tommy’s hand on your cheek. “Hey … Hey, Y/N. Don’t cry.”

You sniffled. “I– I’m not. I–“ You let out a desperate sigh. “I feel silly, Tommy.”

“Don’t feel silly, please.” Tommy whispered, leaning forward to you, locking his icy blue eyes with yours. “I should be the one feeling silly. I could have everything I ever wanted, but I’m just too proud to make a move.”

He caressed your cheek with his thumb and gave you a weak smile. “And you are right, Y/N. We aren’t just friends. I was scared we were moving too fast that evening. I wanted to buy you something nice to wear, go on a date and dance and drink all night.”

You brought your hand up to his on your cheek. “Tommy, we can still do all of that.”

“I know.” Tommy said. “And I can’t wait.”

Then he leaned in further, connecting his lips with yours. You melted in his touch, lifting your arm up to run through his hair. But before you could reach it, a horrible pain in your shoulder made you break the kiss, cursing silently.

Tommy chuckled. “I think we’ll save this for another time. You should be resting.”

You pouted, wanting him to stay. Tommy eventually gave in and got up from the chair and laid himself next to you on the bed so you could cuddle up to him.

“Thank you for staying.” You murmured into his chest.

“I’m staying as long as you want me to.” He said, pulling you just a little closer.

2K notes · View notes

fangirlovestuff · 4 years ago

Note

Hi first of all I love your works and it's so great, can i ask for male reader? If i can, Ari Levinson X Male Reader, After a long day work at the Resort, Ari and reader decided to had a Cuddling night with each other and talk about their relationship (some beautiful memories , etc) and then led into Ari Proposing to reader, and Ari forget the ring so instead he gave reader a necklace, And then Continue cuddles and kiss until they both fell asleep (reader sleep on ari chest while ari holding him tight). Just Pure FLUFFINESS. Lots of love for you ❤️

Forever

a/n - Hey lovely people! at last, a fic! this goes out to @evansphnx12 - thank you so much for the amazing request<3 this is my first time writing for Ari and I love him🥺 lots of love for you too, i’m so sorry it took so long and i hope you like it!! very slight proofreading on this one, sorry in advance if there are any mistakes! also, in the story, Ari calls reader a nickname in hebrew, and it’s in a male form (like, you would say it differently if you wanted to adress a female), which i thought was a nice touch:) Enjoy!<3

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: none:)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Ari stepped into your room, both exhausted. Ari let out a tired sigh as he plopped down on the bed, motioning for you to join him. You gladly did, laying down facing him. He clutched your hand in his, bringing your joint palms up to his lips and kissing your knuckles, slowly lowering it back.

"Hey," you said, your voice soft.

"Hi," Ari smiled, his eyelids slightly droopy yet his eyes still twinkling in the adoring look you've come to know and love.

"God, this was a long day," you sighed.

"Yeah, but I got to spend it with you," Ari caressed your cheek with his hand.

"What's gotten you so sappy?" you giggled.

"Well… you probably don't really remember this but today two years ago was the day I met you."

"Really?" you propped yourself up on your elbow, looking down at him, amazed he remembered. You and Ari took quite a few months to admit your feelings, and you've now been dating for some time over a year, and you didn't remember the date you met, just the date of your anniversary, the date of your first date, which you told Ari, "I didn't remember," you chuckled. "I only remember the date of our first date."

"God, that seems so long ago," Ari chuckled in response. "But it's one of my favorite memories."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had just gotten out of the shower when you saw Ari's text. "Be down in five", it read. You smiled, quickly getting dressed and going down to the lobby, where Ari was waiting for you.

Sure, you had doubts about this. Plenty of them. Going on a date with your coworker was never the safest decision. But the nerves in your stomach quelled and turned into butterflies, fluttering around in you stomach at the sight of him, long jeans and polo t-shirt fitting snugly over his biceps, a slight smile playing over his lips.

"Hey," you greeted him when you got closer.

"Hey," he smiled. You started walking out of the resort, and without even thinking about it, you turned towards the parking lot, assuming you were driving somewhere.

"Wait, uh- this way," Ari said, pointing in the other direction, the direction of the beach.

"Oh, okay," you smiled, a little unsure. You walked in companionable silence, the sound of the waves crashing filling the space between you. Tentatively, you reached your hand out, and you kept in a relieved breath when Ari took it in his.

"I, um," Ari started. He looked around for something, smiling slightly when he found it and pulling your joint hands, leading you towards the rocks. He took out a picnic basket from behind one of the rocks, wiping a bit of sand from it before sitting down on the rock. Wordlessly, you sat down next to him.

"I just thought we should stay close by," Ari said. "So, I got this from the kitchen," he gestured at the food inside the picnic basket.

"It looks great," you said sheepishly.

You ate in silence, watching the bright moon reflect onto the calm black sea. Upon feeling Ari's eyes on you, you turned your head to meet his gaze, his blue eyes shining in the moonlight.

"Did you ever want a moon?" he asked.

"I'm not sure what you mean…"

"The moon is what causes the tide. It controls the height of the sea, keeps it in check. So the tides are high when they need to be and low when they need to be. This shiny rock in the sky soothes the water," he chuckled. "I always feel like my tides are too high," he added in a whisper.

"I do want a moon then," you smiled. "So I could give it to you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Yeah, it's one of my favorites as well," you chuckled, your hand resting on his bearded jaw as you reminisced. "Huh. I never thought you'd remember the day we met. It's not like it was such a good one," you smiled.

"Well, that's true. But that doesn't mean it wasn't special. I mean, after all that's when I met you," Ari smiled back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun was hitting you with a ferocious heat you still weren't quite used to. You shielded your eyes with your hand and got out of the car, looking at the agents that were there to greet you. There were only two of them outside, the rest probably in the resort, and you weren't really given much information about any of them. Hell, you weren't even that sure what your own mission was, besides "helping".

"Good morning," you nodded at them and introduced yourself.

"Nice to meet you," the girl said and shook your hand.

"Agent," the guy said, extending his hand as well.

As you walked into the resort, they started showing you around a little bit. “And this is the-” the girl started, when suddenly her phone rang. She answered it and by the expression on her face, you could tell something was wrong.

“Ari,” she motioned at the man, and clearly he got what she meant because he grabbed your arm and started walking. At least now you knew his name was Ari.

After many twists and turns, he got to the door he was looking for. Honestly, if he wasn’t leading you to it you wouldn’t have noticed its existence, which - as became clear when he opened in to reveal a tiny storage closet - was well intended.

“Get in,” he said, his gruff voice urgent. You did as he said, and then he got in after you, closing the door behind him.

“What’s going on?” you asked.

“They’re coming to search the resort. They can’t see you yet, you don’t look like you belong here.” He eyed you up and down, as if to confirm his statement.

“Well, does it matter? I mean, isn’t this supposed to be a resort for tourists?”

“Of course it matters. You’re not supposed to be a tourist. We either had to hide you now or hide you every single time they came, because if you’d look like a tourist they’d expect you gone in a matter of days. If someone who isn’t staff stays too long, they could get suspicious,” he explained.

He seemed impatient to you, like he was explaining something that was common knowledge. It made you want to roll your eyes in exasperation, but you contained the urge, knowing you should at least try to leave a good impression on your first day on the job.

“Makes sense,” you nodded instead.

You looked at Ari as he reached into his back pocket for his phone, checking it for updates. Now that you were locked in a very small supply closet with him, you noticed how… huge the man was, for the lack of a better word. His broad frame filled so much of the space you were almost bashful, feeling like he might reprimand you at any moment. His presence loomed over you, and if you weren’t a trained agent you’re pretty sure you would’ve cowered from him.

You spent about 20 minutes in there, staying silent the whole time. Sometime in the middle you heard voices from outside and tensed up, feeling him do the same beside you, but they faded after a few seconds. You let out a silent sigh of relief. It was pretty dark, so you couldn’t see Ari’s reaction.

But you could see enough of him, it the time you were in there, to realize he was hot, and you were very screwed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ah yes,” you smiled, “the fateful supply closet.”

Ari laughed. “Yeah, the fateful supply closet,” he echoed your words. “You know, we spent… what, twenty minutes in there? twenty five?” You nodded to affirm him and he continued. “It felt like forever. Being cooped up in such a small space was… overwhelming. At the time I didn’t really understand why,” he smiled and you returned it.

“Well, I see your fateful supply closet and I raise you the time you first called me ‘ahoov sheli’,” you grinned.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Good morning sunshine,” you smiled as you opened the curtains, waking Ari up from his sleep.

“Good morning, moonbeam,” he laughed. You plopped back down on the bed next to him.

“Do you still need a moon?” you asked, cupping his face in your hand.

“Not really. I have you, ahoov sheli,” he smiled.

“What?”

“Hebrew for ‘my love’. If you don’t like it, I-”

“No,” you cut him off with a smile, “I love it, ahoov sheli. Just like I love you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I always loved that nickname,” you giggled. You looked at Ari, who had a far-off look in his eyes. “Penny for your thoughts?” you asked with a smile.

“Marry me,” he blurted out.

You stared at each other for a moment, the silence between you charged with the question, which seemed to echo in your mind a thousand times before he spoke.

“You know what, i didn’t really think about it until right now, but screw it,” he said with a soft chuckle. “Why shouldn’t I ask? I love you. You are, without a doubt, the best thing that has ever happened to me, ahoov sheli. There isn’t, and there won’t be, anyone else for me. You’re my person, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. No takebacks,” he smiled.

“I love you,” you said softly, tears shimmering in your eyes. “And I would love to marry you.”

Slowly, Ari reached out and cupped your cheek, bringing you closer until your lips met in a tender kiss. His soft lips moved against yours, your tongues meeting in a languid dance while your hand tangled in his hair, fingers weaving between his smooth locks.

“I don’t have a ring,” he admitted with an uncharacteristically timid smile, “but here,” he reached and took his necklace from his neck. Gently, he reached and put it around yours, his hand caressing your collarbone before pulling away to take hold of your hand.

“This will do for now,” he smiled and you nodded in agreement, beaming. “But that doesn’t change what it stands for - i’m yours, forever,” he pulled your hand up and kissed your knuckle.

You were tired, being after a long day of work, but you felt so giddy at his words, at his promise, that you felt like you could jump up and down. Instead, you kissed him once more before you pulled away, unable to stifle your yawn.

“Let’s go to sleep,” he chuckled, and pulled you close into his arms. Your head was resting against his chest, and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulled you to sleep, your excitement wearing off as you drifted into a peaceful slumber in the arms of the love of your life.

Your life was unpredictable, you knew that, even more so as you were an agent. Even so, if someone had told you before you got here that you would find your person, your love, you would’ve probably laughed. But you did.

And there’s nowhere else you’d wanna be more than right here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

hope you liked it! feedback is super appreciated<3 also, the next thing i’m gonna work on is probably the next part or rumor has it, but no guarantees as to when i’ll post it because life is absolutely kicking my ass, which is why i’m not posting as much in general:)

Taglist: @horny-nd-bored @shannon124 @perfectlyharolds @wintersoldierslut @iceebabies @sleepingpapermouse@steverogerswasalwaysworthy @holtzkinnon @angelicl-y @stydia-4-ever @thatoneperson5000 @fangirlfree @kaitcordx25 @bequeening @steve-barry-damon-logan @itscrazycherryblossomcollection @hollandxmarvel @stargazingfangirl18 @readsreblogsfics @onetwo3000 @beritmetal @harrystylesholland @jazbot2000 @anobscurename @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @peggycarter-steverogers

if you wanna join / be removed from this taglist, comment/message me! much love <3

#chris evans x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #chris evans x male reader #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson x male reader #ari levinson fluff #chris evans fluff

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yourgalaxy · 4 years ago

Text

~FINDING HOME~ (Part 4)

Pairing: Taehyung x female O/C

Genre: Fluffyest Fluffy Fluff, a little bit of angst if you squint really hard.

Summary: After getting used to the idea of just being her and her little daughter against the world. Autumn is proven wrong once again when fate has different plans for them.

Warnings: None

Word count: 2865

A/N: The original prompt is from @hybridfanfiction ( their prompts are the cutest, check them out!) This is my first attempt on sharing some of my work and is also my first hybrid fic. I love the reader inserts but not a fan of the Y/N type thing so feel free to just imagine your name instead if you prefer! I have material to make this a series but will leave it as a one shot for now to see if you guys like it! I totally don’t own the gifts.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language. Read at your own risk 😂

Extra A/N: I didn’t get the chance to post this last week but to compensate you guys, I’ll be posting the first part of my new Mafia Au, so watch out for it!

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5

‘’ Hey, Tae’’ - Autumn came out to the back balcony where Taehyung had gone for a sunbathe after dropping Haneul off at the school. - I realize how boring it can be to stay at home for so long every day, so I was wondering if you would like to come to work with me? - The way his eyes light up and his tail started to wag was enough of an answer. - ‘’Really?!’’ - He almost fell out of the chair trying to stand when she nodded yes. - "Ok, I'm ready!" - She couldn't suppress her laugh as he took her hand, wide eyed, tail going crazy behind him, he was almost bouncing in place. -

‘’ It wasn’t the plan to introduce you to the boys like this, but it might be for the better, they can get really chaotic when they get all together. Today it will just be Jin and Jimin at the store because it’s Kookie’s day off, so it shouldn’t be too crazy… Are you ok, Tae? - She could only see his profile while driving but he looked pale and really shaken. He shook his head and she decided to pull over to the side. The store was close, and she figured getting there a few minutes late was worth it if it was for Taehyung’s wellbeing. - ‘’ What’s wrong? Are you hurt somewhere?’’ - Her hand grabbed his arm in a comforting manner, unconsciously tracing circles on his skin with her thumb not really aware of the shiver that ran down his body. He cleared his throat, afraid of his voice betraying him. -

‘’ I… I haven’t had many good experiences with males... I’m just a little nervous, I guess. I’m sorry’’ - Her heart went out to the ball of nerves that the boy had become, understanding right away that whatever he had gone through in the past was still very vivid in his mind, a wound that was still open and fresh. She wanted to hunt down whoever hurt him like that, because if there was something, she was sure about after the few days that Taehyung had stayed with them was that he deserved nothing but love, her instinct to put him on her pocket and protect him from the evils of the world kicking in full force. -

‘’ There is nothing to be sorry about, pup. You don’t have to do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable. I can promise you, though, that none of my friends would ever do anything to hurt you intentionally, but I can definitely drive you back home if you don't feel ready to meet them’’ - Taehyung felt guilt wash over him. It was more than obvious that whoever these guys were, they were really important people to Autumn and he didn’t want to burden their relationship with his own personal demons. - ‘’ No, it’s ok, I.. I trust you’’ - He assured, taking her hand in his, not letting it go for the rest of the way. -

" LOVER BOY!!" - The sudden movement in his peripheral view, took Taehyung by surprise, with so many different flowers everywhere, there were too many scents, and it disoriented him for a second but before he could prepare himself to receive the attack Autumn had put herself in between, receiving the full force of the other boy's collision against her smaller frame with ease, as if she was used to it. The other guy didn't lose time to put his arms around her and pull her closer even though he was whining and complaining that she should have let him say hi to the newbie first. -

This was not what Taehyung was expecting, his hands tightening into fists, and he had to bite his tongue not to let the growl vibrating on his chest break free. Human males were one thing, but a Hybrid? Why didn't Autumn mention that one of her dear friends was a Hybrid? And for how long would he have to watch them embrace each other? He decided to clear his throat to catch their attention. Autumn immediately let go of the other boy, a big smile adorning her face as she looked his way. Somehow it eased Taehyung's heart.

-"Tae, meet Jimin. Minnie, this is Taehyung" - She introduced them and even when Taehyung tried to keep his distance by bowing politely, Jimin was too excited to let it go like that and soon, ignoring autumn’s warning, was hugging the taller man so tight that Taehyung was afraid he would pass out because his blood wasn't circulating properly. He had never met a feline hybrid so affectionate, if it wasn't for the pointy ears and his scent, he would had guessed that he was indeed a canine hybrid instead. -

"Jimin, that’s enough bud, you will suffocate the kid’’ - Another person came into the room and this time Taehyung was well aware of the other man and his every move. Jimin finally let go of him with an apologetic smile, and even though he still didn’t trust him, he was way more comfortable with the Hybrid than with the newcomer - ‘’Hey there, my name is SeokJin, but you can call me Jin!’’ - The man extended a hand in Taehyung’s direction. He was a little bit taller than himself but instead of the intimidating aura that Taehyung would expect to come from him, he had a really friendly demeanor and a sweet scent. But Taehyung knew better than to carelessly trust people. He bowed politely murmuring a nice to meet you under his breath. Jin gave Autumn a knowing look and a soft smile when she mouthed an apology. - "Well, Taehyung, welcome to our humble happiness factory!!"

"Come, Tae, let me show you around, I can teach you how to make an arrangement if you want!" - His Tail was hard to see at the speed it was wagging. Jin and Jimin looked at each other with knowing smiles plastered on their faces -

" So, is Jin....Jimin's sponsor? " - Taehyung whispered as he tried to emulate the little arrangement that Autumn had shown him how to make. She couldn't help but laugh a little at his cuteness, he seemed really apprehensive about her friends, but it was obvious that he was also curious even if he tried to act cool- " So Jimin is a citizen. He is Jungkook's adoptive brother, his parents worked on the citizenship as soon as he turned 18."

" So, he is like... on his own now?" - This was the first time Taehyung met an independent Hybrid in real life and his mind was immediately filled with questions - " Mm, yes and no. He decided to move with Jungkook when he moved to the city around 5 years ago, Jimin doesn't have to live with him but he wants to, so they are roommates now! Which I'm really grateful for, I have been friends with both of them ever since" -

The way Autumn explained it made it sound so simple and normal but for Taehyung it was such a wonder. To think that there were hybrids out there that truly had the chance to live their lives in whatever way they wanted, blew his mind. Then he started to think about the fact that Jimin decided to just stay right where he was at, he wondered what he would do if he was in his place, he had imagined it many times before, that one day he would be free and he would travel the world and make friends everywhere, he wouldn't have to worry about anything more than his own happiness but now when he tried to imagine the scenes that gave him so much hope and comfort before, they didn't seem so bright and happy anymore. He wondered if we would really be able to leave Autumn and Haneul behind and move on with his life?

No, he couldn't… And the realization scared him.

"Woah!! Tae, you are a natural!!" -Autumn was too busy admiring the arrangement that he had just finished fixing to notice the way Taehyung was looking at her, the soft smile that draw itself across his lips or the way his eyes were shining with adoration. If they were to let him, Taehyung felt like he would be the happiest if he could just stay with Autumn and Haneul for the rest of his life.

…

Today was the day when it would finally become official. Taehyung was going to be no longer an undocumented stray, no one could mistreat him after today and Autumn couldn't be more relieved and happier about it.

"Are you ok, Tata?" - Haneul's worried tone alarmed Autumn out of her thoughts. Leaving the dishes for another time, she made her way to the living room, approaching Taehyung's sitting form from behind. A hand immediately finding place on his head, she let her fingers massage the base of his fluffy ears out of habit, because she knows that it always calmed him down to be petted. Taehyung was afraid his heart would come out of his chest at this pace. - "Is anything wrong, puppy?"

" No, I was just thinking. I'm totally fine!" - He sent both of them the best smile he could muster. Praying that none of them could figure out his real feelings at the moment. He didn't want to worry them- "Tata, you are my favorite friend ever!" - Haneul seemed to feel his distress, nevertheless. She hugged him tightly and it just melted both his and Autumn's hearts. - "Hey little love bug! I thought I was your favorite ever! - The living room soon became a battlefield, a tickling battle full of loud bumming laughs and sweet endeared giggles-

Haneul was fast asleep and they were peacefully watching a movie when a knock on the door burst their happy bubble. Taehyung could feel his whole-body tense even before Autumn opened the door, greeting a tall, serious looking man. - Hello! Namjoon, right? Oh, are you ok? - Namjoon went from a professional business looking man to a blushing mess in a second, he had managed to stumble upon thin air and almost fall in the process. Autumn almost cooed at the dimples that appeared with the sheepish smile that he dedicated her way. Taehyung felt like snarling at him. - Hello, Miss Kim, it's a pleasure to finally meet you, Yoongi and Hobi talk a lot about you, haha. - He extended his hand but before she could take it there was a body between them. For a second she wondered if she was imagining it, she had never heard Taehyung growling, but the aggression she could hear in the growl startled her. He didn't even flinch to acknowledge the way she lightly pulled his arm to try to stop him. - " Taehyung! Stop that. Namjoon is our guest!"

"Oh, don't worry, I actually overstepped his boundaries. It's completely normal for hybrids to want to protect their families from any kind of possible thread, and I'm a complete stranger in his territory. I'm sorry, Taehyung-ssi!" - Namjoon stepped back, giving the anxious hybrid some space. Taehyung visibly relaxed as he did so. - "It's a pleasure to meet you, Taehyung-ssi!

"Nice to meet you too…" - Taehyung reluctantly responded after Autumn nudged him from behind. - "Well, shall we get into business? " - Taehyung really didn't like Namjoon's smile-

" Ah, I see, so the process has different stages, I guess I didn't know that… " - Autumn couldn't hide her excitement, the sponsorship stages were designed to provide the hybrids with gradual freedom until they reached their full independence.

With this process, Taehyung would be able to get a job right away, he would get his probational ID by the end of the 1st year and by the end of the second year he would even be able to move on his own, and even though the idea squished her heart in an uncomfortable way, Autumn was really happy with the prospect of giving Taehyung the opportunity to freely live his own life.

"What do you think, Tae? Isn't this… Taehyung, what's wrong? Hey, puppy, why are you crying? - Before she could do much, Taehyung dashed out of the scene, closing the door of his from behind him. - " I'm sorry, Namjoon. I think we will have to do this another time..." - He just sent a sad smile her way. - " I hope he is ok, let me know if you would prefer for me to just send the final paperwork through mail, I'll make sure that everything is cleared up so that whenever you decide to sign, it will all be ready."

"Thank you so much, Namjoon. I really appreciate it!" - She said bye to him after he assured that he was just doing his work. Once she closed the door, a dread feeling washed over her. She hated seeing the people that she loved having a hard time and in the short time she had known him, the dog hybrid had claimed a place in her heart. She took a deep breath before walking towards Taehyung's room- " Hey pup, can I come in?"... Taehyung, I'm really… I'm really worried, honey boy, can you please let me in?" -

After a few minutes of dead silence, Autumn was about to give up and just wait until he decided to come out on his own, when the door opened, and she was engulfed by a taller form. Taehyung was sobbing on her shoulder, trying to calm himself down by subtly breathing in her scent. She dragged herself and the boy to sit on the ground, giving him the opportunity to cuddle closer to her. She quietly petted his ears and traced random forms on his back, waiting for him to calm down.

After a while she unconsciously started humming a song that he didn't recognize, a song that she sang to Haneul every time she had a nightmare or was scared about something, and at that moment, with her warmth surrounding him and her sweet voice filling the silence that threatened with driving him crazy, Taehyung felt at home for the first time in his life. He felt safe and wanted, he felt like he belonged…

" I'm not really sure about what happened, but I just want you to know that you are not alone anymore Taehyung. You are part of this family and whatever life throws at you from now on, we face it together, there is no other way around...You don't have to tell me if you don't feel comfortable sharing but if there is anything I can do to make it better, I need you to let me know" - Her soft voice came to him as a healing balm, she wasn’t mad at him like he thought she should of have after the way he acted, he could just sense worry and tenderness in her tone. His chest filled with love and warmth as he listened, wanting to stay like that forever. She patiently waited for him. -

" What would happen if I don't want to leave after the three years are up? Would you don't want me anymore after I become a citizen?" - She almost cried at how fragile and broken he sounded, he was sincerely afraid of them just leaving him behind and she felt guilty for not noticing how much the whole idea of the sponsorship process was affecting him. He had been quieter than usual for the past few days, but she downplayed it as just him being in the process of getting used to his new environment. - ‘’ Will I have to leave?’’

‘’ Oh, my sweet puppy’’ - She hugged him closer and he let out a content sight snuggling the side of her neck, discreetly scenting her. - ‘’ I don’t know everything you have gone through…’’ - At the mention of the past she immediately could feel the way his muscles tensed under her touch, so she did her best to ease him down, petting his ears always seemed to do the trick.- ‘’And you surely don’t have to share, but I hope we can replace those memories with new ones, ones full of smiles and lots of love, to the point that you can confidently believe that there is no place where you belong more than here with us… You will be able to decide, Taehyung, it will always be your choice. But know that we will always want you home.’’ - This time Taehyung started crying for a completely different reason. -

‘’ Can we have some ice cream?’’ - He asked in between sniffles after a few minutes of silence and Autumn couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her lips. And as she prepares three bowls of ice cream, she sent a message to Namjoon, asking him to email the paperwork for them to sign. -

#hybrid taehyung #bts hybrid fluff #bts hybrid fanfic #bts hybrid au #BTS jimin #BTS jin #bts suga #bts fic #bts jeongguk #bts hosoek #bts rm #bts fanfic #btsv #bts fluff #bts yoongi #bts namjoon

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randomestfandoms-ocs · 4 years ago

Photo

So, since I got a couple of asks about making a manip tutorial, I’m going to walk you guys through how I made the Sofia Martinez x Diego Hargreeves gif that you see above! I use photoshop on mac for all of my gifs, so it may look different on other computers, but the theory is the same (I don’t know what version of photoshop it is lmao, I got it free through school)

This is admittedly not my best gif ever but it was less complicated than a lot of what I make so it seemed like a good one to make a tutorial for! Details are below the cut since this is super long

1. So first I start by loading the first of the two gifs! If you’ve never used photoshop before, you can do that in “file”

NOTE: If you already know how to get a gif loaded then you can skip ahead to step 4, and if you know how to get the gif to only include the frames that you want then you can skip to 6!

(Ik most people will use premade gifs but I make all of mine from scratch so I included that in this)

2. So I know that different people load gifs differently, but I always go with import video frame to layer! It opens my files and I find the mp4/mov file that I want to load from!

3. So I forgot to screenshot this originally which is why you can sort see the final result lmao but anyways then I go and select what part of the file I want! Now I’ve used this Diego scene in a lot of edits so I know exactly where I want it, but finding the exact moment sometimes takes a bit more time/attempts before you get exactly what you want!

4. So now that I have a gif, you can see my timeline at the bottom! The first step to making an actual gif is to go through the timeline and delete all of the frames that you don’t want! In my case, that includes all of the Luther frames that came before this scene! And I decided to make this a 50 frame gif, so once I had 50 frames of Diego, I also deleted everything after that!

5. So once you get just the frames that you want, go to your layers on the side and delete all of the layers that are no longer in your gif! After that I make the remaining layers into a group because I find gif making a lot easier when everything is in groups lmao!

6. Then I like to create the curve layer! This may look different on pcs but on mac you go to the layers dropdown into new adjustment layer to curves!

7. For creating the curves that I want, use the highlight (circled pink) and lowlight (circled yellow) eyedrops! I start with the highlight and I click on what I want to have as the lightest point of the gif (in this case, Diego’s neck), then I use the lowlight and click on what I want to be the darkest point (in this case, his harness)

7b. Now, if you want to change any of the curves from there, you can click on where it says RGB and choose which colour to adjust! If I want the entire thing to be brighter then I’ll go through each colour and increase them all by the same amount; if I want to make one colour stronger or weaker then I only change that one!

7c. in this closeup you can see where the numbers are on the bottom! I only ever adjust the input number, I don’t touch the output at all! Once you’re on a specific colour, click on the square at the top (highlight) or bottom (lowlight) of the curve to determine what you’re adjusting!

NOTE: Don’t assume that these will be your final settings! Once you combine the gifs and we get to the real colouring, they will definitely be changing! But I personally prefer having the base curves already done and then adjusting things later rather than trying to start it later!

After that, I repeat the process to make the second gif, and now we get to making the manip!

So my Diego gif is bigger (1920x1080) than my Sofia gif (1280x720), so I’m going to be moving his gif onto hers!

8. So to copy the gif you’ve made, select all of your frames and then click the three little lines on the bottom right of your timeline! Make sure you’ve selected all of the frames

9. Then, you can choose the copy frames option!!

Note: I should have done it sooner but I forgot; at this point make sure that your curves layer has been moved into the group so that it copies with everything else!

10. So then we move to our other gif, and again we make sure that we’ve selected all the layers, and we click the three little lines again! Make sure that you’ve selected the top layer of the gif so that the layers from the other gif will go on top of it!

11. This time, we’re going to choose to paste frames, and when the pop up appears, make sure to select “Paste Over Selection”! That’s what will put the gif you copied on top of the gif you have selected!

12. so now we this! At this point I can’t see the gif underneath it, so we’re going to create a layer mask (circled in orange in the second screenshot) and get to really making the manip!

NOTE: this will actually say add layer mask, but when I press the command key to take a screenshot it switches to vector, sorry about that!

12b. Circled in orange here is the layer mask! This is the layer that we’re going to do all of the editing on now to make the other gif visible!

13. Now, because of the size difference between the two gifs, I decided to move the Diego gif to be fully centred to start! So I used the free transform tool and just dragged it over! This won’t be its final size or position, but it means that when I go back to editing the layer mask, I’ll be able to see more of the Sofia gif to know what I want to change!

14. So now that it’s more or less where I want it for now, it’s time to get my brush! I always start off with a big brush (better for the fast, imprecise work that I do to start) with 0% hardness! I almost always use 0% hardness unless I need a really defined edge. Make sure that your foreground colour is black and then just paint on the layer mask until you can see the bottom group! If you accidentally hide more than you meant to, just switch your foreground colour to white and paint over it, which will re-reveal it

15. So now that I can actually see the entire Sofia (Lindsey) gif, I’m going to go back to the free transform tool and resize/move the Diego gif until they’re roughly the same size! Then I’ll go back to my layer mask (still with black as my foreground colour) and paint over the mask until it’s as visible as I want!

15b. Now I found the entire gif was too far to the left for my liking, so I selected both groups and went back to the free transform tool and just moved everything to the right until it was more centred!

16. So now I have a manip that I like, but the lines are still harsher than I want them to be!! So I go and right click on the layer mask and choose the Select And Mask function!

17. Now this brings us to a new menu, where we can work more on the mask! I like to use the feather function (you can see where the box is highlighted blue) to soften the edges of the manip! I usually start with 50px and either lower or increase the number until I like the way it looks! I can’t describe exactly what it does but it makes the edge softer and the manip looks more blended

18: Now it’s time to colour the gif! So I have my psd open here, so I right click on the group and choose duplicate group, and then for the destination, I choose my manip (untitled 3, in this case!)

NOTE: I use a colouring PSD that was shared with me, but you can find colourings all over tumblr and deviantart — you don’t even need a psd, you can make your own or just play around with different adjustment layers until you like it!

19. Now I go back to my manip file and oof, if looks way worse like this! So I go back to those curve layers from the beginning and adjust things until it looks better and matches better! For Sofia, I made the green and blue curves stronger, and for Diego I made the red stronger! For Diego I also added a brightness/contrast layer to lessen the harsh contrast!

20. Now it’s time to resize the gif! Tumblr limitations don’t allow gifs wider than 540px (no height limit that I know of), so that’s what I set mine to! Then it automatically changes the height to keep the ratio the same!

21. Now when I make my gifs smaller, I always end up with this awkward little empty space on the edge, so we go back to our layer mask, now with white as our foreground colour, and just using a small brush we will that in again so it looks normal!

22. then we save!!! Go to file > export > save for web, and then you’ll get the first save popup (the big one), click save, and then you get the smaller one and you can name it whatever you want!

23. and now we have a gif!!!!

I really hope this tutorial helps at all! If you ever have any questions about this tutorial, feel free to shoot me a DM or an ask and I’ll try to clarify; and if you’d ever like to know how I do another type of edit or a specific edit, shoot me an ask and I’ll try to put together a tutorial!

Happy creating y’all!!!

#maddie talks #*tutorial

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writingwithadinosaur · 4 years ago

Text

“Under the Knife” - Part 2

My Masterlist - Here

Story Masterlist - Here

My Tag List - Here

Hannibal Lecter x Reader, Will Graham x Sister!Reader

Word Count: 2,500-ish

Key: Chunks of text in italics are (Y/N)’s thoughts. Y/N = Your Name, H/C = Your Hair Color, E/C = Your Eye Color

Warnings: Talks of murders, talk of crime scenes, cursing

Summary: You are Will Graham’s sister who works with him at the FBI. When you get offered a job promotion, life starts to change. Some changes for the better; Some for the worst.

Tag List:

@fruitloopzzz @theeactress @melconnor2007 @ashenfallsof @geeksareunique @all-by-myself98 @sj-thefan @fuck-your-bad-vibes-dude @ntlmundy

Author’s Note: This is my first Hannibal piece and I am proud of it. There aren’t too many stories for Hannibal, so I figured I would add to the collection.

This does take place in some happy medium where they are all alive and work together. Sort of a happier season 1 era.

This is beta-read by @theeactress, but please let me know if there is something that we missed or that we should look at again!

If you would like to be tagged in any of my future pieces, check out my tag list above and let me know! And as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

- DreaSaurusREX

----------------

After your meeting with Jack, you filled out some paperwork and made it official: You were going to be his profiler for any case that he wanted to call you in for. And apparently he already had one building.

“We have a suspected serial killer hitting close to home. Three killings in Montclair, Lorton, and Fredericksburg.” As he said the Virginian cities, Jack plopped 3 case files in front of you and moved to the board full of evidence that he had.

“Oh! We’re starting right now? O-Okay.” He turned from the board to look at you with a sort of incredulous way.

“Do you have a problem with that?”

“I mean, we literally just signed the papers. I thought I would have a night to prepare instead of being thrown right in.” You said the truth without seeming ungrateful or annoyed, which was good. But you instantly started to nervously ramble as Jack nodded and walked back to his desk. “But if we need to start right now, I can. I just wasn’t ready for--”

“You’re right. We’ll start talking tomorrow. For now, take those files, do your homework, and report here at 9AM. We’ll go to the lab and introduce you to Beverly, Price, and Zeller.” Jack smiled and motioned toward the door.

“Thank you. I will see you tomorrow morning!” You tried to be professional but also show that you were actually excited to work with him.

“See you tomorrow.”

After putting the files securely in your bag, you headed to your apartment. You put the files on your dining room table before you hung up your coat and work bag. You checked your watch. You had dinner plans with Hannibal in an hour and a half. You stood between your room and the table that the files were seated on. You fidgeted with your ring for a few seconds as you debated on whether or not to start catching up on the case now or after dinner.

“I can read over the first one and then get ready for dinner.” You told yourself as you pulled out the semi-comfy chair and opened the file.

Case: #566-A

This case was from 6 weeks ago in Montclair. Ballsy to be close to the FBI and kill people. There were two victims: Dr. Everet and his wife Whinnie. They were found dead in their shared bedroom in their upper-class house. A nice upper-class place thanks to being a doctor.

Whinnie looked like a murder that you would find in an armed robbery case: Quick throat slit, not much thought or motive into it, left on the floor to bleed out. Dr. Everet on the other hand was what you assumed grabbed Jack’s attention.

Dr. Everet was in the middle of their bed. The autopsy report claimed that the cause of death was exsanguination which made sense considering he was in pieces. Everet was cut at every major joint. His arms were separated from his shoulders, his legs from the pelvis, his thigh from his knee, his forearm from the elbow, and so on and so forth down to his fingers and toes. The report showed that there was a high level of paralytics in his system. So you make him sit there while you cut him apart. That’s why there are no defensive wounds. He had to lay there and endure all of that...

Why was Everet presented like this while his wife was a simple throat slit?

You made some notes in your book, making sure to write out questions to ask the team when you met up with them tomorrow. With every note you made, you found yourself going back to the case file and trying to connect dots. You soon realized that you couldn’t begin to connect those dots until you looked at the other files.

Without much thinking, you opened all three files, quickly skimming over each of them and writing out the main points that stood out. You were supposed to be at Hannibal’s at 7 o’clock and it was only 5:45. It didn’t take that long to get to his place.

All of the murders happened 2 weeks after the other, starting 5 and a half weeks ago. Dr. Everet was about 6 weeks ago, Dr. Chaseten was about 4 weeks ago, and Dr. Loriet was about 2 weeks ago. Which means this killer is bound to strike again soon if this time frame is important to him.

They all have at least one victim that is treated like a paralyzed piece of artwork like Dr.Everet and at least one victim thrown to the side and killed quickly. The ‘pieces of art’ were all doctors, the others were their husbands or wives.

They all were in different cities in Virginia but close enough to make a solid assumption that this is the same killer.

You were scribbling out a note to ask about if there were any particulates found in any of the bodies when your phone buzzed on the table next to you. You didn’t even look at the screen, you just hit the answer button and put whoever was calling on speakerphone.

“(Y/N) speaking.”

“Good evening, (Y/N).” The thickly accented voice rang through your speaker and stopped your writing mid-word as you looked from your phone to the files that were now spread out across your small tablespace.

“Dr. Lecter! Hi! Good evening! Sorry, I was um... caught up in something and didn’t even register who was calling!”

“No need to apologize. I was just wondering if I should still expect you tonight?” You dropped your pen as you frantically looked at the time on your phone. It was 6:15PM. You quickly started to shut the files and stand up muttering a few curse words as you did. “I take it you got distracted?

“Yes! I’m sorry! But I am still coming over as long as the invitation is still good.” You picked up your phone and walked to your room to start to quickly figure out a nice outfit that didn’t look too much like a work outfit or too fancy. “I am getting ready now!”

“As I can hear.” You could almost hear the slight smirk he most likely had on his lips from hearing you fumble around your small space.

“I should be there right around 7 and I’ll explain myself, I promise.”

“I will see you then, my dear.” Hannibal hung up while you were slinging your work shirt into your laundry bin. You couldn’t help the smile that spread as you thought about how he called you ‘my dear.’ You know it's probably nothing more than a common nickname for any woman in Hannibal’s life, but it still felt good to be called something other than your real name.

~~~~~~~~

Somehow you had managed to avoid a lot of major traffic and pull up to Hannibal’s home right at 7 o’clock. He must have heard your engine or seen your headlights because as you got out of your car and made your way to his front door, it was already open with him waiting for you with a small smile on his lips.

“Right on time.”

“Did you doubt me?”

“Never.” Hannibal moved to the side to let you in. You were instantly hit with the scents of whatever he was whipping up in his kitchen.

“One day you’ll have to teach me how to make something really fancy just so I can show off next time I have someone over.” You shrugged off your bag and went to hang it up in the closet, but Hannibal beat you to it.

“Someone like a partner?” He was so good at hiding any sort of inflection in his voice, but you could have sworn that you detected a bit of jealousy. You slightly laughed at the idea of having any sort of romantic partner right now.

“I was thinking more along the lines of my brother. You know I don’t have much of a social life outside work.

Hannibal motioned for you to walk towards the kitchen, you did so and he was right behind you.

This was normal for the two of you. You tried to have a meal or at least coffee together once or twice a week to give both of you a break from whatever the world was dishing out to you that week. You had met as colleagues when you worked together on a project for the FBI. But now you both were in a comfortable friendship. There was a pang in your heart that wanted to explore the idea of being more than friends or coworkers with him, but you doubted Hannibal felt the same. If he did, he wouldn’t show it due to his connection with your brother and out of respect for you. So the two of you continued this dance of being extremely friendly but too scared to make a move or speak up.

You poured yourself a glass of water and leaned against the kitchen counter as Hannibal reached into the refrigerator for lemon juice and finished up cooking.

“How was your day today?” You ask him, as you take a sip.

“It was alright. Met with patients, got further in a drawing, figured out what to cook for a beautiful lady as a congratulation of sorts.” Hannibal quickly looked up at you as he said the last half of that before turning to the stovetop. You felt a very small blush creep on your neck, but tried to play it cool.

“Congratulations?”

“On your new position. I hope you don’t mind that Will shared that with me today.”

“Did he now?” You couldn’t help the slight negativity in your voice as you looked away and played with your ring. “He is definitely not as happy for me as you are. I’m sure you’re aware that he did not want me to accept Jack’s offer.”

“I cannot tell what he said, but I can tell you that he was rather upset when he came in today.”

“Sounds like my brother.” You took another drink of water, not even noticing that Hannibal had plated dinner until he spoke up.

“Now, if you’d please.” You quickly looked up and saw that he was gesturing to the dining room. You tried to help by grabbing a plate or his cup or something to bring to the table but he just gently ushered you into the next room. He never let you help out when you were over as a dinner guest, but you tried every time.

The two of you sat and began eating. It was a good minute or two of silence before someone spoke up.

“This is delicious, Hannibal! I don’t know what vegetable this is exactly,” you help up a swirly looking green piece on your fork, “but it is amazing with this sauce you’ve made.”

“That is romanesco broccoli. I thought you might like it. It looks intimidating but tastes like the typical broccoli that you normally eat. It's just a bit… Artistic.” He slightly smiled, happy that he could amuse you with new food. You took another bite as Hannibal reached for his wine. Before he took a sip, he asked something that had been on his mind.

“May I ask what grabbed your focus so much that you almost missed out on dinner tonight?”

“Oh, right! Jack apparently already has a killer he wants me to start profiling. He gave me copies of the reports to read up on before I have my first official day tomorrow. I told myself I was just going to read the first one, but then got carried away.”

“Is this the killer that has been targeting doctors?” You gave him a questioning look, unsure of how he knew about the case. “Jack asked for my opinion at the crime scene for Dr.Chaseten a few weeks ago. Considering they haven’t caught anyone, I’m assuming that is what he has you working on.”

“Then you would be correct. There are now three mutilated doctors that have no obvious correlation to each other other than the cause of death and the fact that they are doctors.” You sipped your drink and continued. “I know I’ve only been Jack’s official profiler for less than a day, but it's still biting at me that I don’t see anything yet.”

Hannibal reached over and put a hand on yours to try to rein you back in before you thought too much about the case.

“I’m sure you will have more answers tomorrow.” You smiled and patted his hand, ignoring the slight butterflies you got from the contact. You took a deep breath.

“I know. I shouldn’t get this deep yet. That insanity will hit me tomorrow when I have to brainstorm with Jack.” You smiled even though it didn’t fully reach your eyes. You knew Hannibal would pick up on it.

“I think it was Oscar Levant that said that ‘there’s a fine line between genius and insanity. I have erased this line.’ Let’s just hope Jack Crawford won’t erase his line.” Hannibal gave your hand a small squeeze before removing his hand, causing you both to return your attention to your meal.

“You know, we could have rescheduled this dinner if you felt the need to finish your work.” Hannibal was sincere. He understood your work was a major part of your life, but he did like to see you outside the halls of the FBI.

“No! I wanted to come by tonight! Honestly, I needed a mood lifter after today.”

“Oh? How come?” You finished chewing and then spoke your mind. You knew Hannibal was a therapist, but he wasn’t your therapist. So you tried to keep it friendly.

“I should be excited and happy to be starting this new position, but I’m more worried about Will. I don’t want this job to be what divides us, you know? We’re so close, and I am one of the few people that he can be comfortable around. I don’t want to take that from him.” You pause, unconsciously bouncing your leg and fidgeting with your ring slightly. You shook your head as if that would temporarily erase the thought. “I just hope that if I keep working cases, he will get more and more okay with it.” You cut off a piece of fish and ate, letting Hannibal know that you were done speaking.

“I’m sure he will be fine.” You look up to find him staring at you. More like watching you, hyper-aware of your movements that show your anxiety. “But enough about Will.” Hannibal held up his glass towards you. “Here’s to you and your new path in the FBI. May they see you as valuable and wonderful as I do.”

You patted your lips with your napkin and smiled as you clinked your glass with his. Your heart swelled at his words. Why do you do this to me?

The rest of the evening was spent finishing your meal and forcing Hannibal to let you help with the dishes. Afterward, he walked you to your car, as usual, opening the door for you like a true gentleman.

Your drive home was peaceful and you found yourself smiling, thankful for your evening with Hannibal. It was nice to know that someone you cared about was happy for you.

#hannibal #hannibal fanfiction #hannibal fandom #hannibal imagine #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter / reader

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temilyrights · 5 years ago

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goodbye...again.

Summary: Emily Prentiss x Reader. Emily finds Reader packing up her office after just finding out she’s been ordered to transfer out of the BAU. Set in season 7, a few months after Emily’s return from the dead.

Word Count: 2019

A/N: So I’ve been re-watching Criminal Minds and falling in love with Emily all over again so then this happened. I’m on season 6 atm so this is definitely inspired by JJ’s departure from the show. Ngl I wrote and edited this in 2 sittings so apologises in advance for any mistakes. (please also excuse if this is a little ooc i haven’t written for Emily in years).

Read on AO3

Sighing, you quickly hurried around your office throwing anything that belonged to you carelessly into boxes. A knock sounds from the door but you don’t acknowledge it. You knew it was Emily, could smell the familiar scent of her perfume and you weren’t surprised she was the first to seek you out now the news of your transfer was probably spreading through the office like wildfire.

“This can’t be happening.” You don’t respond, just continue packing, ignoring the tears that spring to your eyes. “Strauss can’t do this again!” Emily says, emotion seeping into her voice as she makes her way further into your office. You freeze, back still to Emily. Taking a deep breath, tears finally begin to break loose, you wipe them from your cheek as you release a watery laugh.

“Strauss can do whatever the hell she wants.”

“Can’t Hotch stop this?”

You shake your head. “No. He tried but you know what Strauss is like. It’s a done deal.” Your voice cracks because god you didn’t want to leave them. Leave Emily, not when you’d only just got used to having her back again.

The team was only just settling back to normal and you hadn’t thought twice when the job offer had come through. Just rejected it and moved on with your day. You’d been called into Strauss’ office the next afternoon and when you’d found Hotch waiting with her, a resigned look on his face, you knew what was about to happen.

The universe really knew how to fuck you over.

You finally turn to look at the brunette, a tired smile on your face. Emily’s own watery eyes stare back at you. “Where’s the job?”

“California.”

“What?” Emily’s voice cracks. “There’s got to be something we can do. Right? Penelope could hack something, or we can get Strauss to reconsider-”

“Emily.” You breathe, already resigned to your fate. “There’s nothing to be done for now. I’ll go and hopefully, I’ll find a way to come back.”

“You better,” Emily says furiously, finally closing the last bit of distance between you to pull you into a hug. Your heart flutters as you rest your head against Emily’s shoulder, her arms wrapped tightly around your waist as if she’s scared you’ll disappear any second. When Emily had returned so did all your feelings for her. The way she caused your heart to beat loudly in your chest when she got close, and how your stomach flipped whenever you saw her smile. You’d harboured a crush for the brunette for as long as you could remember, and it was a secret you’d managed to keep hidden and locked away the whole time. “What are we going to do without you?”

You huff a laugh, lifting your head from her shoulder to meet her eyes. “You’ll do just fine. The team has never needed me.”

Emily frowns. “You don’t honestly believe that, do you?”

You shrug, pulling yourself from Emily’s arms and making your way back to the safety of your desk to continue packing. It’s not like you didn’t feel wanted, you knew everyone here loved you, they’d been your family for the last 7 years, but you never felt needed, not really. You weren’t great with communicating with people, weren’t a certified genius, weren’t the muscles. “I’m a bonus.” You smirk, trying to lighten the mood. “Not a necessity.”

“You’re wrong.” The conviction in Emily’s voice surprises you. She moves around your desk sliding in between you and your desk to stop your attempt at packing. The closeness makes you gulp, her perfume surrounding you and her eyes staring deeply into yours. You take a step back. Emily’s voice is quieter when she continues, but there’s no less conviction in her tone. “You’re the one people trust, the one who’s always there to support each and every one of us no matter what, you’re the support beam to this place and we need you just as much as we need everyone else, because without you Y/N, without you, this place is a little less bright.”

Your mouth hangs open in shock, tears brimming your eyes. You blow out a breath. “God, I’m really going to miss you.” Your voice cracks. “I-I can’t believe I’ve just got you back and now I’m being shipped to the other side of the country.”

Emily doesn’t say anything, just reaches for your hand tugging you towards her. Your breath catches in your throat at the proximity, standing between Emily’s legs as she perches on your desk, looking at you...looking at you with so much love in her eyes that you can’t do anything but stare at her in wonder. Emily’s eyes flick between yours and your lips. “This is probably the worst timing.” She breathes, fingers brushing the back of your neck to pull you closer. Emily focuses on your mouth as your tongue sweeps out to moisten your lips in anticipation. “But I’ve been wanting to do this forever and I don’t want to regret-”

You cut her off with your lips. A soft and gentle pressure before pulling back slightly. You bite your lip to stop the wide grin threatening to break free.

“I’m going to need you to do that again.” Emily breathes.

You smirk, humming. “Oh, well you might have to wait.” You begin to pull yourself from Emily’s arms, your voice laced with barely contained humour as you go to move to continue packing. “I should really-”

Emily barely lets you take 3 steps before she’s grabbing your hand and roughly tugging you back to her. Your body slams into hers as you release a squeak in surprise, your words cutting off. “Em-” She captures your lips into a kiss that has your head spinning. Your hands cup her cheeks as you sweep your tongue across her bottom lip seeking entrance that Emily is more than happy to comply with. The moan she releases as your tongues dance together has you squeezing your thighs together. You were convinced that was the most erotic sound you’d ever heard. Your body is already flushed against hers but it’s not enough, your hands move to pull her blazer off, desperate to see the skin you’d imagined touching and exploring for years. Emily’s arms are still around your waist though which makes the task impossible and you release a frustrated whine into her mouth that has Emily pulling back with laughter.

“We’re at work and the door is open.” Emily chastises with a playful smirk.

“Not going to be my work for much longer so I don’t care.” You mutter moving to capture Emily’s lips again but when Emily’s smirk falls from her face, you realise you’ve just drastically dulled the mood. Sighing, you move your face back. “Sorry.”

Emily cups your cheek and you lean into the pressure as her thumb rubs a soothing pattern. “We’ll find a way to make this work.” Emily’s got a conviction in her voice that you don’t feel. You knew how long-distance relationships work and with your jobs there would hardly ever be time to fly across the other side of the country to see one another.

“This sucks.” Emily huffs sadly at your words. There’s a knock at your office door and both of you look to find Penelope standing in the doorway with a grin that surprises you, you’d expected tears and had actually been dreading having your goodbye conversation with the blonde knowing she’d have you in puddles of tears.

Neither you nor Emily bothers to move from each other’s arms as you frown at Penelope who’s smile turns nervous. “So, I may have done something…Ok, well I definitely did something and Hotch might kill me and Strauss definitely will if she ever finds out because I 100% just broke a few laws,” Your breath catches, your hands squeezing Emily’s tightly as you try to control the hope blooming in you at Penelope’s words. “but It was totally worth it because I wasn’t about to let them do this to us again.” She takes a deep breath, composing herself. “I kinda, totally, just lost you the California job.”

“So…I-I can stay at the BAU?”

Penelope nods and you release a choked laugh, tears springing to your eyes as you rush across the room and pull Penelope into a tight hug. “I love you so much, Penelope Garcia.”

“I wasn’t about to let another member of our family go, not when we just got everyone back.” Penelope looks to Emily’s who’s now standing by your desk.

“Thank you, PG.” Emily mouths as you pull back from Penelope’s tight hug. You wipe at your eyes, a huge smile now taking over your face as you let the relief settle in.

Penelope’s smile turns to a gleeful smirk as she looks between the two of you. “It’s about time by the way. It was getting to the point where I was tempted to lock you in a room and not let you out until you admitted you’re like hopelessly in love with each other.” A deep blush blooms over your face as you duck your head. “Anyway, I’ll leave you two love birds to it.” With a wink, Penelope turns to leave the room, shutting your office door in the process.

Emily’s got a loving smile on her face when you turn back to look at her, and within seconds you’re back across the room, throwing yourself into Emily’s arms as you capture her lips in a searing kiss. Emily walks you backwards until your back hits your office wall. The picture frame’s rattle but neither of you pay them any attention too absorbed in each other. Emily’s thigh slots between your legs and you moan into her mouth at the friction as your hands make their way to Emily’s hair.

There’s another knock at your office door and both of you groan in frustration, you pull apart, foreheads resting against each other as you take deep breaths. “I don’t care who that is, they are now going to die,” Emily growls.

“Who is it?” You shout, looking towards your office door.

“It’s Derek. I-”

“Derek! No!” His voice is cut off by Penelope’s squeal as you hear the familiar hurried tapping of her heels as she rushes down the corridor.

“What? I just want to talk to Y/N-”

“Leave them alone!” Penelope furiously whispers, their voices lower and neither of you can hear them talking from the other side of your office door until Derek lets out a loud laugh.

“Oh, about time.” Emily rolls her eyes at the glee in Derek’s voice causing you to smirk. “Have fun girls.”

You both grimace, turning back to face one another. “Wow, he definitely knows how to ruin the mood,” Emily complains, and you snort. “How about we get out of here?” You arch a brow, a devilish smirk on your face, Derek already forgotten, as Emily rolls her eyes playfully. “I was thinking of dinner.”

You shrug. “Dinner’s overrated. I’ve always been a girl who prefers dessert anyway.” Emily groans, shaking her head. She bites her lip in an attempt to dull the smirk on her face and you stare, transfixed, at the movement, Emily’s lips were still plump and red from your kisses and god how did you get so lucky?

Emily pats your butt, stepping back. “Come on. Grab your stuff and let’s get the hell out of here.” You smirk and make quick work of collecting your bag, ignoring the boxes of stuff you’d already carelessly packed, that was a job to deal with tomorrow. Emily’s watching you from where she stands by your office door and as you approach, she goes to open the door, but you stop her with a hand to her arm. She turns back to look at you and your hand reaches up to cup her cheek as you pull her down to meet you in a soft kiss.

“Mine.” You mutter as you pull away.

“Yours.” Emily breathes.

And maybe the universe wasn’t as bad as you thought.

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss one shot #criminal minds #emily prentiss #paget brewster #reader insert #fem!reader #goodbye...again.#one shot #angst #fluff #writing #fanfiction #fanfic

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halpertstuna · 4 years ago

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wildest dreams - jj maybank

A/N: this is mildly based off “wildest dreams” by taylor swift. it’s almost 3am and i don’t feel like editing this again pls forgive me.

also, i tried using she/her this time, don’t know how i feel about it but feel free to leave feedback!

and quick reminder, my requests are OPEN! so don’t hesitate to send me any if you’d like <3

-> prompt list <-

summary: all she ever wanted was to feel, and he managed to give it to her, but nothing lasts forever.

pairing: jj x reader

word count: 2,911

warnings: cursing, mentions of medical conditions , mentions of mental illness, mentions of abandonment, angsty with a bit fluff and probably ✨typos✨

-> masterlist <-

(gif credit @toesure )

—

He had been wandering aimlessly for hours, mind anywhere but here, the memories following him around.

When he falls asleep, she’s there, the recollection of her leaving overwhelming him each time he wakes up. He couldn’t seem to get her out of his mind. Pretending she’s there was better than facing the cruel reality of their paths never crossing again.

Oh, the things he would do for it to be real once more.

It’s been almost three months since the day they first met. She wore the same beige white dress that caressed her features the night they parted ways, unbeknownst to him, for the very last time.

JJ hadn’t been at his house for weeks prior to the first day of summer break, he knew he’d have to face his dad eventually, but after not being home for such a long period of time, the man was infuriated with him, throwing punches left and right. He managed escaping before it got too much.

As he walked away he thought to himself how badly he hates that house, his dad. The boy wanted so badly to run away. He decided to take a walk on the beach to cool off, unbeknown to him, his decision would change his entire summer.

He sat on the sand, staring blankly into space, when a barefoot girl in a flowy dress joined him, filling up the empty space on his right.

“Do you ever just wanna run away?” He exclaimed out of nowhere without even bothering to check who was sat beside him. She chuckled “You read my mind”, eyes joining his on the sun that was disappearing in the ocean in front of them.

At the soothing voice of a girl he did not recognise, he turned his head to be met with an unfamiliar figure, an appealing one. He made no effort in continuing the conversation since he simply didn’t feel like talking. Though he felt at ease, something about her presence was so comforting, understanding. He never wanted to leave. He could feel it, her need to escape. He somehow knew she wasn’t just saying that to make him feel better. It was as if without words they understood one another, both desperate for a way out, just from discreet things.

A silence settled on the two, nothing but the sound of foamy waves crashing and the feeling of bubbling surf brushing their toes. When the sun went completely out of sight, they let the night envelope them, welcoming the darkness that had a hint of moonlight.

After a few hours of soaking up the warm summer breeze, she decided it was time to leave. She effortlessly stood up and started walking away, when his voice halted her in her tracks.

“Wait, who are you?” He asked, as sour as he was feeling, he was intrigued and well, the curiosity killed the cat. She smiled at his meddled expression, “Wouldn’t you like to know” she replied walking away, leaving him in suspense. He watched her frame get smaller with every step she took until she was no longer in his line of vision, wondering who she was.

Eventually he booked a room in a motel, where he spent the night.

During the ensuing day, he thought of nothing but her, the lack of information driving him crazy. It was nightfall and he couldn’t shake off her compelling warmth, how desperately he wanted to be in her presence once more. He settled on going to the same spot he saw her last, in hopes she’d be there.

He ran to the beach as the moon started taking over the sky, lighting it up with the assistance of stars. And there she was, laying on the sand, hands picking up the yellowish substance with her fingers parted, letting it pour back to the ground beneath her. He watched her horizontal, tranquil form and felt placate, he felt drawn to her pacific energy, like a magnet, as he started walking towards her, laying beside her.

She opened her shut eyelids then turned her head to face him, red lips curving into a gentle smirk “I had a feeling you’d be back”. He relaxed into the sand, not knowing what to say, the girl left him speechless. As she gazed up anew, the boy couldn’t help but notice how gloomy she looked. “Why the frown?” He questioned. “Just tired of everything” hopelessness filled her voice “I kinda wanna take up on your offer from yesterday”

He nodded understandingly. “Okey then, let’s do it. Let’s run away. get out of this place, far from this shit town” She snorted miserably, for she meant running away from life itself. “No I’m serious” he got up, offering her his hand, “let’s at least get out of here, the mood’s kinda depressing”

She couldn’t help but smile at his gesture, she knew she should say no, for she could see how it would end before it even began. But there was something about him that felt so empathetic, she couldn’t ignore it.

She grabbed his outstretched arm and he helped her up. He led her along the shoreline, “Where are we going?” She giggled as he started walking faster “you’ll see”.

They kept walking until they reached a pile of big rocks. A grin took over his lips as he stared at the top. He climbed up the rocks and assisted her in doing so as well. When they reached the top, she stared in awe at the enchanting vista that laid before her of moonlight bouncing off the water as she enjoy the wind that whispered through her hair what felt like sweet nothings.

She couldn’t resist her burning urge, she smiled at him and he gave her a knowing look, raising his eyebrows. Before he could protest she let go of his hand, jumping in the water underneath them. He shook his head in amusement “How’s the water?” He chuckled as she resurfaced. She sighed in pleasure, “magical, you’re missing out” she stated as she started swimming away; it didn’t take long for him to join her in the moonlight water.

As they splashed water at one one another, the melody of their laugh echoing, a feeling the boy did not recognise washed over him, a foreign feeling, it was sharp and instant but in the best way possible.

They swam to shore laying wet on the warm sand as they gazed into each other’s eyes, breathing heavily and cackling every few seconds. “You’re shivering” he pointed out as goosebumps littered her skin. “What?” She looked at her arm “oh, it’s nothing” she said, shrugging it off. “Are you cold? Come here” he scooted closer, embracing her in his arms. At the contact of his warm body, heat rose to her face, and now it wasn’t just her blush that made her cheeks rosy. He held her for hours as they stared into the silent night, until eventually it turned into day.

They waved farewell and went their separate ways, meeting at the same spot the following few days.

One time she got there after him, claiming she had to leave early and he took the liberty of walking her to her hotel. On their way there, he noticed she, yet again, was walking barefoot, and decided to bring it up, for he was genuinely interested, “Hey, how come you never wear shoes?”

“So you’d have what to ask”

he rolled his eyes and she giggled. They walked under street lights and through the halls until they reached the the door to her room, he knew he was supposed to leave, however he could no longer suppress how badly he wanted her.

Their faces were only several inches away from one another when his lips almost brushed hers, her heart started beating faster as her mind kept screaming at her, ‘THIS WILL END BADLY!’, she tried stopping him, but she couldn’t, she wouldn’t. His lips landed on hers and at first, she didn’t kiss back. He was about to detach them in sheer embarrassment, when she grabbed the back of his neck, moving her lips in sync with his own. She escorted him into her hotel room, both their clothes discarded on the floor within seconds as he made her feel utter pleasure.

From that point on, they spent all of their time together.

At the beginning she saw what they had more as intimacy over emotion, pushing to the back of her mind the thought of loving him, but it was no use. She fell in love with his bad boy act and puppy love, which quickly turned to real love. It was everything she’d ever wanted. Both passion and tenderness. He fell in love with her spiritual state of mind, fascinated by the way she would notice and appreciate the smallest of things most people would take for granted. she would drive him wild, he fell head over heels, they both did.

No matter how hard the voice in her head begged her to stop, she wouldn’t. For he made her feel alive again, for the first time in years, she felt.

He was infatuated with her. It was only within the number of days, when she realised how unfair it was to him, how she could’ve prevented his impending pain, but nevertheless chose to be selfish.

Whenever he’d squeeze her hips or kiss her lips, all her worries would disappear into thin air, as if they were never there to begin with. However they’d come rushing back as soon as he was out of sight. All the doubts, the ache, the regret. It would all consume her.

He was her medicine, even if he didn’t know it. He had both the best and worst affect on her.

She would be his destruction, even if she denied it. She was yet to give him his both most divine but painful experience.

One that would both shatter their hearts but open their eyes.

They were each other’s great escape.

She kept telling herself she deserved to love one last time, justifying his looming loneliness, thinking it can’t end that badly.

They woke up tangled in each other’s arms, she smiled down at his drowsy figure, thinking how this was too good to be true, when it hit her, it was. Because it wouldn’t last forever. She remembered she had to leave that night, at the late hours of the darkness. She knew how hard this would be, with each hot summer day that passed by, closer to the end, she postponed the departure from him, but it was no use, she knew she’d have to do it eventually.

It was almost sundown, she took it on herself to give them both one more memory, even if he didn’t know it was a last.

He stood beside her, the hazy sky turned into a brilliant combination of scarlet and gold as hundreds of tiny lights glistened in the gloaming. As she looked over at him she held in tears that started pricking the corners of her eyes at the realisation that this would be the very last time she’d get to see his enchanting smile.

As the sun and stars took up their new positions on opposite ends of the earth, the two sat on the sand. He was situated between her legs as she tangled her hands in his golden locks, looking at his gleaming eyes which, similar his skin, were beaming in the moonlight. As her dainty fingers started roaming his freckled shoulders ever so gently, she couldn’t help but think of how much she’d miss him. She didn’t want to leave him, but she had no choice. The end was inevitable, it was only a matter of time after all.

When they were about to part ways, he said the one thing that made leaving so much harder. The three words she longed to hear, but all of the sudden wished she never did. “I love you”, was whispered in her ear, followed by a kiss on her temple. She hugged him as tight as she possibly could, eyes clouded by salty tears she desperately tried holding in, miserably failing.

When they broke the hug, he whipped her cheeks smiling softly. He was about to turn around and leave when she clung onto the hem of his shirt, signalling him to stay, he chuckled at her antics, “don’t get all emotional with me, i’ll see you tomorrow”.

She shifted all her weight to the tips of her toes and captured his lips with her own. It was longer than usual, filled with fervour. Even before detaching her lips from his she started yearning them.

“What as that for?” His smirk grew bigger as she stared up at him in adoration, “I love you too” at the sound of her voice saying those words he grinned from ear to ear, caressing her cheeks and resting his forehead against hers. He pecked her lips once more before walking away, in view of the fact he was late to his night shift.

If he only knew at the time that it would be their last goodbye.

Leaving him was the hardest thing she’d ever done. She missed the chance to confront him and so she left a sealed envelope on his doorstep. When he got home at almost dawn, he picked up the paper, examining it. He saw his named signed on the back, immediately recognising her handwriting. He went to his room and opened it, uncovering a letter.

“Dear JJ, God this sounds like a cliché already,” he chortled to himself, knowing how much she hates them, then kept reading, “I couldn’t pluck up the courage to say this to you in person, I just couldn’t say goodbye, I didn’t want to. Saying it out loud would’ve made it real, it would’ve made it our last encounter and i couldn’t let out last moment be any less extraordinary than any of our prior ones.

The reason I left is also the reason I came to the Outer Banks in the first place, I have a medical condition, one that is slowly causing my immune system to collapse, that’s why I’m cold all the time and it’s also the reason I’m always barefoot. the truth is I’m desperate to feel, my illness caused my mental health to go to shit. When I walk barefoot, I do my best to absorb the earth’s energy, I want to feel everything, knowing soon I won’t be able to feel anything.

And after years of chasing an unknown feeling, I met you. From the moment I saw you, I knew it would end this way and still, I was selfish. I couldn’t help myself. But honestly, I don’t regret a thing. For the first time in forever, someone, you, made me feel something other than my ongoing pain.

Thank you, for loving me. And for letting me love you. I’m sorry it had to end this way, I never wanted this for you. My days are limited and you have to understand that as much as I want to spend them with you, I can’t do that to you, to myself.

I will forever cherish what we had.

If you think this is a goodbye letter, you’re wrong. I know we’ll see each other again, I promise you that, even if it’s just pretend. You will always be in my wildest dreams.

I love you Maybank

forever yours, your barefoot beauty”

As he finished reading her letter, he couldn’t believe the words spilled on the page before him. He waisted no time and started running to her hotel, praying on the way it was some joke. He repeatedly knocked on what used to be her hotel room door, greeted by unfamiliar faces of new guests.

That’s when he knew, he was too late.

She was already boarding the airplane, on her way to get treatment elsewhere since the doctors of the OBX did all the could, eventually dispatching her to a different hospital.

She looked out the window as the plane started taking off, the houses below her turning minuscule. She was wrapped up in the hoodie he gave her one chilly night. Whenever she closed her eyes, she could hear his voice, she could still taste his lips. She inhaled deeply, letting the smell that dripped off his hoodie, a combination of his cologne and salt water, engulf her.

Losing her felt like actual hell.

He kept her letter in his back pocket, carrying it wherever he went and reading it every once in a while.

After a month of pain, of imagining her everywhere, of denying she ever left, his feet led him to the beach.

He sat down on the sand in their spot and for some reason it felt different. He couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but he knew something changed. The wind felt different, causing shivers to go down his spine.

As he dipped his feet in the water, staring at the folded piece of paper in his hand, he mumbled under his breath “i wish you were here”.

She plopped down beside him as he kept staring at the slowly setting sun. She placed her hand on his shoulder, stroking it gently with her thumb in compassion.

“Me too” she muttered, even though she knew he couldn’t hear nor could he feel her, no one could, not anymore.

—

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dreaming-about-fanfictions · 4 years ago

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Of Vampires and Assassins - Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Summary: You don’t make it back in time and staying in these woods over night is more than just dangerous. Lucky for you, you find an abandoned cabin and a Witcher to keep you company.

Requested by: @thatrandomcatoverthere wished for an assassin!reader x geralt story. This one took me a while, I’m sorry! I hope you like it! <3 I had a lot of fun writing it!

A/N: I’m back! This summer is a little hectic for me but I managed to write something in the past days. Enjoy! <3 (I didn’t proofread though, so sorry for any mistakes)

Words: 2714 Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Assassin!Reader Warnings: Mentions of blood, fight scene.

The bow rests heavy in your hand.

You stand motionless behind an oak tree, your eyes fixated on the huge entrance to the mansion forty feet away from you. The building is bigger than your client had described – and older. It looks like it’s been abandoned for a few years already. Paint flaking off the window shutters, roof tiles on the ground, and the lion statue in front of the stairs is missing an ear. You aren’t exactly in the mood of walking inside. Who knows, trying to navigate the old house is probably more dangerous than finishing the job itself.

However, it will turn dark soon. The sun is already beginning to disappear, casting the premises in a golden light. Your eyes flicker to the treeline and remember how completely unprepared you are for a night in those woods.

Get it together, you think to yourself. Get the job done and ride back to the main road where it’s safe.

Suddenly the creaking sound of a heavy door fills the air and someone steps outside. Or better – something. You grimace when you see the beast. It’s even uglier than you imagined. Half man, half boar. Giant tusks emerge from his once human lips and patches of fur cover his almost naked body.

Your fingers tighten around the wood as you position yourself in one fluent motion. As you point the weapon of the beast, your breathing is slow and calm. All the background noises – the rustling of leaves and singing of birds – fall silent. Slowly, you pull back the string and …

… and all of a sudden a hand covers your mouth and someone grabs your wrist.

“Don’t,” a deep voice whispers in your ear.

Before you realize what is happening, the man behind you forces your arm down. You suppress the urge to let out a scream of surprise and instead reach for the knife on your belt, letting your bow fall to the ground. He’s quicker. Swiftly he presses you up against the tree, leaving you defenseless.

“Quiet!”, the man shushes but it’s too late. The beast already picked up on the commotion and all you hear is the door slamming shut. Fuck.

You hear a sigh. Then: “I mean no harm. I will let go of you now.”

He lets go of you and takes a step back. You turn around, a hand flying to the belt to reach for the knife but … it’s gone. This time you don’t hold back the angry shriek as you face your attacker.

“What the fuck!”, you curse loudly. “What have you done?! What is your problem? Are you even aware of how many hours I’ve been standing here – well apparently not – and I doubt that you know what monster lives inside this mansion or else you wouldn’t have been so stupid and interrupt me – and give me back my fucking knife!”

Only after you’re done, you take the time to look at who interrupt your work so rudely. The man in front of you is tall and wearing foreign black clothes. Two swords are strapped to his back and white hair frames his face, falling down to his shoulder. Then you see his eyes. Golden, cat-like eyes staring at yours. Oh.

“Awesome. A Witcher,” your voice resembles almost a growl.

The corners of his lips twitch slightly. “Pleasure to meet you.”

You snort. “Right. Now, can I have that back?”, you ask with a nod to your knife in his hand.

“I figured the chances of you trying to stab me were rather high,” he replies while handing it back to you. “Judging from your reaction, I was right.”

You roll your eyes. “Ha, funny. I’m still considering it, by the way. You ruined this job for me.”

“For good reasons.”

“Which are?”

The Witcher opens his mouth to reply when a long deep howl echoes back from the woods behind you. A shudder runs down your spine.

“It’s getting dark and the woods aren’t safe at night,” he says instead. “We should go.”

“Go where exactly?” You wouldn’t make it in time to the main road.

“There is an abandoned cabin not far from here. If we hurry, we can make it in time.”

You sigh. This isn’t how this day should have ended. Not at all. You were supposed to be getting paid tonight and celebrate over in the tavern in the town over. Now you must come back tomorrow. You grit your teeth, still being pissed off at the man who interrupted you so rudely. However – staying with a Witcher is probably a better idea than traveling the woods alone.

“Alright, let’s go.”

***

There are two horses standing in the tiny cabin. The Witcher insisted on it. Apparently, his horse is his only friend in this world (at least that’s what you figured) and he wouldn’t let it spend the night outside. So now there are two horses standing on one side of the cabin, slowly falling asleep. The whole situation feels like the beginning of a joke.

You sit on a rocking chair, the creaking of it being the only sound in the small room. It’s cold and he refused to start a fire. “Fire attracts them,” he said. Another shiver ran down your spine and you didn’t ask who “them” were.

“You haven’t given me an answer to any of my questions yet,” you say suddenly, breaking the silence.

Geralt doesn’t look at you. Or at least you think so. The darkness makes it hard to tell and he sits further away from you, leaning against the wall opposite of the door. “You didn’t tell me your name,” he counters.

“You didn’t ask.”

He snorts. “What’s your name then?”

For a moment, you debate whether it’s a good idea to tell him. In your line of work personal details are usually kept a secret – for good reason. Yet strangely you can’t bring yourself to lie to him. “Y/N.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Y/N.”

You like the way he says your name. “What’s yours, Witcher?”

“Geralt of Rivia.”

“Rivia. That’s far from here.”

Geralt shrugs. “Haven’t been there in a while. Want some?” He leans over, handing you a bottle of something.

“Thank you.” Ugh, whiskey. You cough when the liquid leaves a burning sensation in your throat. “You still haven’t answered my questions.”

“Ask me again then.”

“Why did you stop me from killing the beast?” It has bugged you the whole way over.

“He’s not a beast.”

Right. “Have you seen it?”, you don’t even try to conceal your disgust.

Despite the darkness you can feel his gaze on you.

“It killed three women over the past month,” you continue.

“He’s cursed.”

No excuse. “So?”

“He wasn’t born that way.”

“Most killers aren’t.” The reply comes easily to you. After all, you of all people know what you were talking about. Killers aren’t born. They’re made.

“He’s also not a killer.”

“Well, talk about that with the women he slaughtered,” you scoff.

Geralt sighs. “He’s cursed because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time and has lived in that abandoned mansion for years now. I know him.”

“Excuse me?”, you tilt your head. The horses huff as they shift in the dark room.

“I stayed for dinner once.”

“How the hell did that happen?”

“Ran into him, thought he wanted to kill me, almost killed him, stopped to chat and got his side of the story.”

You chuckle in disbelief. “And you believed him?”

“Yes,” he answers without hesitation.

“Why?”

“He’s not a killer. I could tell.”

This time, it’s you who sighs. “So who killed those women?”

“A vampire.”

“What?” You’ve heard of vampires before – yet never in this part of the continent.

“A vampire. More precisely, a bruxa.”

***

The conversation carries on for a while and to your surprise, it’s quite pleasant. The Witcher has interesting stories to tell even though it sometimes took him a while to answer with more than a few words. He talks about vampires and bruxas and werewolves and the occasional human jerk he has faced.

When the two of you grow quiet and only the only sound in the cabin is the loud breathing of the horses, your eyelids become heavier. You try to fight the urge yet you feel so tired …

“Why did you try to kill him?”

You blink in confusion when the sudden question brings you back from reality. You clear your throat and sit up straight again. It takes you a while to answer, not sure if he would appreciate the honest answer.

“He’s a monster.” That’s not a lie. “I think.”

“No, that’s not it.”

Damn. “What makes you say that?”

“Do you hunt monsters for a living?”, he asks instead.

“Yes. Sometimes.”

His next statement – a few simple words – makes your heart stop for a split second. „You belong to the Coven of the Twelve.”

Out of instinct, your hand wanders to the knife strapped on your belt.

Geralt doesn’t move. “Hmm.”

Every muscle in your body tenses up as you watch his silhouette in the darkness.

„You don’t look like an assassin.”

Leaving out a short breath of air, relax a little – yet your fingers stay put on the knife. “If I did, I wouldn’t be very good at my job,” you roll your eyes and force a smile.

“Probably.”

“How do you know?” Or better: What gave me away?

“The mark above your ankle. I noticed it when you gave water to the horses. Your dress … moved. Why did you lie?”

“Most people start judging you when you tell them that’s what you do for a living.”

“Hmm,” Geralt hums. “I know how that feels. Well, who am I to –“

BANG.

The door flies open with a sudden gust of wind and hits the wooden wall, almost falling off its handles. Scared, the horses start neighing, trying to move. Both of you are standing up in less than a second, weapons drawn, eyes fixated on the open door. Out of the corner of your eyes you see Geralt making some sort of hand movement and soon the horses start to calm down.

“What –“, you whisper but the Witcher shushes you.

Outside, it’s absolutely quiet. No wind, no rustling of leaves, no chirping of insects. The stillness makes the hairs in your neck stand up and you tighten the grip on your sword that you grabbed from the ground when you jumped up. You stare at the open door, and could vaguely see the outlines of trees and the chair on the porch. The full moon shines bright tonight and you’re thankful for it.

Footsteps. Your eyes shoot to the ceiling when you hear tiny, almost feline footsteps above you.

Whatever is on the roof, isn’t human – it moves too fast, too light.

Then you see it – a head peaking inside the cabin. A white face with yellow eyes staring at you, long black hair falling down and almost touching the ground. It looks like straight out of a nightmare.

“Bruxa,” Geralt whispers. “No sudden movements.”

As if it understood his words, the vampire gracefully fell down to the ground, landing on all fours. It was completely naked. Like a child in a candy story, it tilts its head, curiously watching the both of you.

You tried to kill my friend today. It doesn’t open its mouth. The high-pitch tone of its voice ringing in your head instead makes you more scared than ever before. Nervously, you look over to the Witcher wondering if he feels the same fear.

“Well, you killed three women in the last days,” Geralt replies calmly.

The creature tilts its head to the other side. Then she smiles – a wide smile, revealing sharp shiny teeth that you knew could rip you to pieces in seconds.

I need to feed.

“You can live off animals. There are plenty of bears and wolves in this woods.”

Is he seriously trying to argue with that thing?!

They don’t smell as good.

At this point, you’re certain of one thing: that voice would hunt you in your dreams for months to come if you got out of here alive.

“Maybe you should try it first.”

Maybe I should try these first. She moves her head in the direction of the horses and you see how Geralt tenses up.

“You touch Roach and I cut that ugly smile from your face.”

We’ll see about that.

You don’t know who moves first – Geralt or the bruxa. But suddenly all hell breaks loose. A shriek so loud it almost makes you drop your sword erupts from the creature as she jumps towards the two of you. The horses start neighing loudly, running out of the cabin in seconds almost kicking you to the ground. Geralt moves faster than any soldier you met before. The bruxa cries out when his swords cut into her skin, dark blood spilling everywhere.

Finally, your training kicks in and the fear leaves you body. You are right behind Geralt, throwing your knife at the bruxa. It sees it coming and ducks. The knife disappears into the darkness behind it.

The fight is short yet ugly. The way the creature moves makes you realize quickly that it must be very young and not very skilled. She could hardly keep up with the two of you coming at her, ducking and trying to get away from the swords desperate to kill her. After a few moments you’re certain the two of you would win this – and this is the mistake. You grow cocky – and stumble over one of your bag you threw into a corner when you entered the cabin earlier this evening.

A surprised gasp of air leaves your mouth when you suddenly hit the ground. Geralt calls out your name and looks over to you. Second mistake. The bruxa doesn’t miss its chance – with a piercing scream she jumps at him, throwing the Witcher to the ground.

You see the way she tries to get him, tries to sink its teeth into his flesh and get up so quickly, you almost stumble again.

“The heart!”, Geralt shouts out while wrestling the vampire. “Aim for the heart!”

You do as he tells you so – with a last cry, you jump, tearing the monster away from him and before plunging your sword into its chest. The bruxa stares at you in surprise, its mouth formed to a quiet “Oh” – then her head falls back to ground and her body falls still.

You stand up shakily, panting heavily as you stare at the dead vampire in front of you. Blood is sprinkled all over you clothes.

“Impressive,” you hear Geralt mumble. He gets up as well and you look up at him. His white hair is messy and there are a couple scratches on his face and neck.

“Well,” you shrug, slowly regaining control of your breathing.

“Except for the fall, of course.”

You laugh out loud shortly. “Idiot.”

For the first time since you met him – Geralt smiles. A real, honest smile. It’s beautiful. He watches you and suddenly you realize how close the two of you are standing. So close, your hands are almost touching

Maybe it’s the adrenaline from the rush of the fight, maybe it’s the fact that every ounce of fear has currently left your body – but without another thought, you lean over and kiss him. It’s short yet passionate. Geralt places his hand on your waist, pulling you closer as he moves his lips against yours.

You are sweaty, covered in blood, tired and hungry – and still, the kiss is perfect. When you part from another, you look at the Witcher with a wide smile.

“Impressive,” you mimic him and he chuckles.

“Well,” he shrugs. Then he looks behind you and as you turn to see, you notice the sun coming up already. It’s morning. You survived the night in these terrible woods.

“I heard about a pretty nice tavern in the next village over,” you say. “Why don’t we go there and get something to eat. I’m so hungry, I could eat a horse right now.”

“Do not touch Roach!”

***

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yespolkadotkitty · 4 years ago

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Fall For a Shooting Star

An Agent Whiskey x OFC AU. Retired from active duty, Whiskey runs a ranch for people needing protective custody.

Thanking my beta and cheerleader, @songsformonkeys !! <3

“You have got to be kidding me,” Sage muttered as the car pulled up to the ranch. The agent in the driving seat spared her a look, and Sage bit down on her lip to keep from saying anything else. They’d been driving for a full two hours, and for half of that had passed nothing, just dirt roads, greenery and old ramshackle fences. Only a single bumfuck-esque gas station had punctuated the landscape.

“We’re here,” Agent Plymouth announced shortly, stopping the car by a pair of huge wooden gates. They looked aged but in good repair, the only distinguishing feature being the words SHOOTING STAR RANCH engraved into the top arches.

He reached out and buzzed a comm on the stone wall. After a few moments, a crackle was heard and the gates swung open.

“I’m sorry,” Sage interjected as the car rumbled on the gravel path. “I just didn’t expect it to be, this, well, remote.”

Next to her in the sedan, Agent Hendricks smiled. “I’d feel the same. I’m a city girl to the bone.”

“Says she’d rather die than go without a cut and colour every twelve weeks,” Plymouth groused, but Sage only smiled.

She’d spent the last four days with these agents and she knew that Hendricks and Plymouth loved each other in their own way.

“But this is the safest thing,” Hendricks added. “Agent Whiskey will take good care of you. He saved my life, a few years back, in the field. He’s a dedicated agent.”

“He’s a dedicated hillbilly is what he is,” Plymouth groused, and earned himself a swat around the ear from Hendricks.

“So,” the female agent asked as the car rumbled further down the path, towards a big ranch house that looked like it was built around 1900, “Do you want to go over the cliffnotes one more time?”

Sage settled back in her seat, chewing her bottom lip absently. “I’m Sage Stewart. Taking a sabbatical for work. Saw the ad for a housekeeper online, wanted to escape to the country for a while to get over a breakup. “ She smoothed a hand over the fall of her hair. “I’m more comfortable with all that than I am with my sudden redhead status.”

“Okay,” Plymouth said from the driver’s seat. “Not even Whiskey knows your real name, all right? It’s safer for everyone. Over the years he’s sheltered over a dozen people at the Shooting Star, and they’ve all eventually been able to return to their normal lives. You will, too.”

Sage swallowed as the car rolled to a stop by the house. This late in the day, dusk was starting to creep in at the edges of the big Kentucky skyline, bringing with it the chirp of cicadas and the herald of birdsong. “Got it,” she murmured, some - okay, most - of her bravado slipping as Agent Hendricks waked around and opened the passenger door.

“Yo, Whiskey,” she heard Plymouth call out as footsteps approached down the steps to the porch of the big house.

The car door opened and she thanked Hendricks, stepping out of the air conditioned sedan into the humid Kentucky air, the heat licking at her arms, bare in the simple grey sundress the agents had given her to wear - her new wardrobe was nothing like her closet at home, filled with designer items. That was the point, she supposed, glumly.

“Sage, this is Agent Whiskey,” Hendricks announced as Sage looked up at the man tasked with keeping her alive for next goodness-knew-how-long.

The tall man tipped his black Stetson to her with a finger. “Ma’am.”

What had she expected? Not… this. Not a long-legged cowboy in worn, darkwash denim that fit him like it was painted on, big, soulful brown eyes and a neat moustache that framed his mouth, making her immediately wonder how he tasted.

Of whiskey? Or something stronger?

“Thanks for having me,” Sage said automatically, offering her hand.

Whiskey took her palm between both of his, and the gun calluses on his hands brushed her softer skin before he pulled away. “I give you my word on behalf of Statesman that you’ll be safe here,” he murmured in that deep, husky-edged Southern-comfort voice. With a voice like that, he could read the phonebook and she’d be enthralled.

Hendricks pulled a suitcase from the back of the sedan and passed it to Whiskey, who carted it up the steps.

Sage knew firsthand that the suitcase was full of plain clothes - nothing that would attract attention or stand out.

The opposite of what she would choose for herself.

But exactly what Sage Stewart would wear.

“This it, sugar?” he asked, his gaze meeting hers and holding.

Sage automatically bristled. “That’s it - but less of the pet names, if you don’t mind.”

Whiskey glanced at Plymouth and the two shared a speaking look, but he just shrugged. “Whatever makes you comfortable. What’ll I call you?”

“Am- Sage will be fine,” she stuttered. “That’s my name, after all.”

“Right,” he drawled, his tone giving nothing away.

Hendricks patted her on the shoulder, and then at Sage’s little nod, drew her into a hug.

“Whiskey’s a good man,” she whispered into Sage’s hair. “A little rough around the edges is all, but you of all people should know, it’s best not to judge a book by its cover. There’s more to this cowboy than meets the eye.”

Sage released a shaky breath. She’d become really comfortable with Hendricks and Plymouth over the last few days; hated having to say goodbye now. But she had little choice in the matter. “Thank you,” she murmured back. “I really am sorry for being such a bitch.”

Hendricks laughed and drew back from the hug. “You weren’t. And besides, an attempt on a girl’s life tends to make her a little grumpy. I get it. Take care, and you’ve got our number if you need anything. Whiskey also has a direct line to Plymouth.”

Sage turned to see the two men deep in conversation. Whiskey’s head was tipped low, listening, and he nodded every so often at something the heavier-set man said, one hand on his hip, his fingers long and tanned. As she gazed at them, Whiskey turned and their eyes met. Something wordless and electric passed between them as his chocolate-brown eyes drank her in, and for a second, every inch of her skin felt like it had been licked by fire.

She broke the eye contact.

“Thank you both. Really. I, ah…”

“It’s getting late,” Whiskey began, turning from his conversation with Plymouth. “Let’s get y’all settled, shall we? I’ll show you to your room and we can have some supper. Plymouth, Hendricks-” he tipped his hat with a finger- “I’ll take it from here.”

Sage stood awkwardly as the agents climbed back into the car, watching as they drove back down the gravel path, taking any hope of her old life with them - for the foreseeable future, at least.

She stood in the sunshine until the car disappeared through the big wooden gate, and then she allowed herself one big, internal sigh. The pity party could come later when she was out of sight of Agent Whiskey’s big brown eyes, eyes that seemed to see too much already.

“Ready?” he asked, and his tone was soft this time, his voice almost a caress in the encroaching dusk. The way he might sound sinking into a woman’s body, the way he might sound trailing his lips along the inside of her thigh.

“Not at all,” Sage made herself say cheerfully. “But let’s get on with it anyway.”

Part II

****

Tagging people who might like this, along with my reg taglist: @pedropascalito @pedrosasscal @spacegayofficial @dindjarindiaries @agentpike @fleetwoodmactshirt @just-the-hiddles @hopelessromanticspoonie @queenofheavenandhell @paniclana @starlight-starwrites @abuttoncalledsmalls @whiskeyslasso @alldatalost

#whiskey x ofc #agent whiskey fic #kingsman au

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gr-ogu · 5 years ago

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Soph’s Header + Doodle Tutorial (requested by anonymous)

Hi! I’m back again with the sequel to my icon + colouring tutorial, this time with headers and doodles! 🥰 You will need:

I’m using Photoshop CC 2018 to make these headers and doodles, but you could easily make them with earlier/other versions.

Basic gif making knowledge.

A screencap you want to use, some fun textures, and some time and patience!

I always start off with my headers as size 500 by 281 pixels. It doesn’t really matter necessarily, as long as the size is in line with the tumblr dimensions and fits. I find these sizes work to keep a gif or header small, so you can make it a bit longer without going over the tumblr size limit. I know technically tumblr doesn’t have a size limit any more, but I do still try to stick to the 3 MB limit when I can. This is because sometimes gifs lose their quality if you go over. In my opinion, you can afford to go over a bit, but if you go too far, the quality of the gif gets destroyed, and sometimes for me even on 4 MB they just don't play, so 6 MB or 8 MB doesn’t stand a chance. Not sure if anyone else has run into this problem, but you can read more about what I mean here and here.

Okay, so. Making simple headers is actually pretty easy, it’s just a lot of layering of the right things. Once you have your base size, pick a nice gradient to put on it. For me, I’m going with a light purple to a slightly darker purple:

It’s important that you have video timeline turned on for this. If you are not familiar with frame animation and video timeline, I suggest you take a look at this, since we are going to be using both quite a lot in this tutorial.

Next, you want a nice background texture for your header. You don’t have to, but I think it just gives it a little something extra. You can find some textures here they have A LOT to choose from.

Once you have your texture, make it black and white and set it to soft light (unless the texture is the same colour as your background, then sometimes leaving it in colour can enhance the whole thing). Then you should have something that looks like this:

Now add your cap, coloured + smart sharpened and whatever other adjustments you want to make, on top of these layers. If you don’t know how to do this, please see my icon tutorial, where I explain how to do these steps in depth.

Obviously in this instance, Steve is much larger than if this was an icon. Make the picture proportional to the header size, but it’s up to you how big or small you want that to be! So, you could just save the header like that, if you wanted to. BUT, since we’re going to be adding gifs + doodles, I’ve had to make some special adjustments. As you can see down the right-hand side in the layers tab, I’ve added some purple colour over and under Steve (set to soft light, opacity anywhere between 5-30%, whatever suits you) and also lightened the background A LOT. There is a reason for this, which you wouldn’t need to do if you weren’t going to add gifs (unless you wanted the background to be lighter, of course).

So, for the gifs underneath your cap. Here is a pack of gif overlays that I love and adore, once you have chosen one of those, you want to put it underneath your cap. To do this, open the overlay gif, it will look like this:

And you can just drag it across from one file to another, underneath your cap.

I turned off all the layers above the gif, temporarily, so I could move it into place. Once it’s in your header file, make sure to change the gif to “overlay”, which will then bring back your nice background colour. Setting something to overlay makes everything underneath it look darker, hence why we lightened the background before, as I personally didn’t want it to look too dark for the overall header. (You could also put your cap underneath it if you wanted the gif to go over the person, but you’ll have to do extra editing to make sure the cap isn’t too dark if you do so).

Now you should have something that looks like this:

You want to make sure you end the header where the gif ends, even if your layers are “longer”, as you can see above. Again, this is a perfectly acceptable place to leave your header and save it, but this is where I tend to add the doodles!

Open a new file, I usually make them quite big say 800 by 400 px, as you can scale the doodle down later on, rather than starting small and working in a small space, which makes things unnecessarily difficult. If you would like to add some premade doodles onto your gifs, you can find some here, but I will show you how to make your own below!

You could draw the doodles yourself, probably making your life a lot easier, but if you’re like me and you don’t want to do that (for me it’s because I suck at drawing on ps, LMAO) you can use a picture too. Find a picture of what you want, I usually just google it, so here I’ve got a simple crown:

I used the magic wand tool to cut it out, and now we have this:

Now what you want to do is change the video timeline to frame animation. Click the “creative video timeline” button if video timeline isn’t already displayed, then the three dots in the left-hand corner to convert to frame animation, and you should get something like this:

Now, here’s the long-winded bit. It’s slightly odd and a bit complicated, so if this doesn’t make sense, please feel free to message me and ask further questions.

So, we want the doodle to look like it draws itself, right? What you want to do is crop the image so bits of it are added as the frames go on, thus achieving that effect. The key to this is turning layers on and off on the right-hand side, so only certain parts of the image show themselves one after the other.

Firstly, duplicate Layer 1 and turn the original image off. This is a safety in case we mess something up later and need to revert to the original image. Now, crop out the first part of your picture. I’m going to start on the bottom of the crown and work my way around clockwise. Use the marquee tool (I’m using the elliptical one) to cut out one section of the image, then right click and select ‘layer via cut’.

Then turn off the rest of the layer, so you’re only left with this tiny piece:

Now, add a new frame. On the bottom bar there is a button, next to the bin/trash, that looks like a sheet of paper, which says “duplicate frame” if you click on it. Do that. Now is where the turning off and on part comes in. Each layer on the right-hand side corresponds to a frame on the bottom, and you want to build up what is shown in each frame every time.

This is going to involve a lot of duplicating and merging of layers, because I haven’t found a better way to do it currently.

First you want to turn off all the layers when you have Frame 2 selected. When you’re on Frame 1 your tiny piece (Layer 2) should be turned on (you turn layers on and off on the right-hand side, toggling the little eye icon). Like so:

You want to be working with Frame 2 selected for these next parts. Then you want to duplicate the tiny piece layer (so now we have Layer 2 copy). By turning the Layer 1 copy on briefly, you can cut out the next part of your image, so use the marquee tool again to cut out the next little piece. Make sure you have the layer with the rest of the image selected when you do this, otherwise you could be cropping nothing, since the other layers should still be turned off. Once you’ve done that (once again using layer via cut!) you should now have Layer 3. Move this to the top, turn off Layer 1 copy, and turn on Layer 2 copy, like so:

You may not be able to see in the picture, but the two layers aren’t quite touching. Since it doesn’t matter what the original image looks like for the end result of the doodle, you can move Layer 3 in line with your first piece. DO NOT move the original small layer, Layer 2, as then it will be in a different place on Frame 1 and Frame 2, and you’ll have to try to move it back, and that will be a mess. Always adjust the newest layer in line with the previously existing layers so this doesn’t happen.

When you’ve done that, select both Layer 2 copy and Layer 3 at the same time. I usually use the ctrl key to do this, which I think is command on macs, then when you’ve done that, right click on those layers and select merge layers from the menu that appears. They should now be one layer called Layer 3.

The problem is, when you do this in the second frame, it usually turns itself on in the first frame too, which you don’t want. So click on Frame 1, and make sure to toggle Layer 3 off for Frame 1, and on for Frame 2. And the opposite with Layer 2: make sure it is on for Frame 1, and off for Frame 2, like this:

Now, you want to repeat the process. So, add a new frame at the bottom, so you have three frames. Turn all the layers off when Frame 3 is selected. Duplicate Layer 3. Cut out the next piece from Layer 1 copy, and make sure it aligns with the other layers without moving the previous pieces. Merge Layer 3 copy and Layer 4. Make sure Layer 4 is turned off in Frame 1, because the newest layer WILL turn itself on there every time. Go back to Frame 3, and turn Layer 4 on again.

You should have something that is looking like this:

Can you see how all the different layers are corresponding to the different frames? I don’t mean to be patronising at all, so I hope it doesn’t come across that way. I just know that some people don’t understand how frame animation works, so I’m trying to be as clear as possible.

It doesn’t matter if your doodle is moving away from your original image, because you won’t be seeing the original image when the doodle is done, only the doodle. As long as the layers that correspond to your frames aren’t moved during the process, then don’t worry.

Continue to do this until the whole doodle is made, like so:

I ended up with 15 frames, and 16 layers. You can set this to whatever speed you think is best by highlighting all the Frames. If you click the thee little lines on the right-hand side of the frame animation window, a little menu pops up, and there you can select all frames (or hold shift and click on the first and the last frame). From there, you click on the time underneath the frames and adjust it whatever looks best for your gif, 0.05 usually works well.

Now, you want to convert the doodle into one object that you can move. To do this, click on the little lines in the left-hand corner (where the frame animation dots were before), and all the framers will turn into layers in video timeline. Then, to make them all one object, select all the layers at once on the right-hand side, and go to filter > convert for smart filters.

You should now be able to drag your doodle into your header file! Like so:

As you can see, sometimes the doodle isn’t as long as the loop of your gif, but that’s okay. What you can do is use the marquee tool and right click when you’ve selected the doodle, choosing layer via copy. This will create a still image of your doodle, which you can place after it ends to ensure it stays on the header until your gif is ready to loop again, as you can see here:

As you can see here, I decided to make the crown white, since I felt it fit better with the header’s aesthetic. To do that, I inverted the gif and the still shape, and set them both to lighten. I also added a white stroke of 1px just to make it stand out (double click your layer on th right-hand side, and find stroke in the pop up that appears, adjust to your liking!)

I also added another doodle to mine, using the same process as before. Spelling out ‘king steve’ had a lot more layers and frames, but it was the same process. Then I dragged it over, and copied the layer just before it re-looped so I could have it as a still image for a portion of the gif. You may need to duplicate your overlay gif underneath the cap to ensure eveything has enough time to loop properly, like so:

And that’s it really! If you would like to add a divider on top of your header AKA a header template, these are the ones I use (one, two). To add it, open the file and drag it onto your gif file, then place it where you want it to be. Once you’ve done that, set the layer to screen (here is a tutorial from the op) if you want it to be white, or invert the image (image > adjustments > invert) and then set it to darken if you want it to be black. If you want it to be a different colour, you’ll have to cut out the divider from the background image, and then double click the layer to get the style menu. In layer style, you can select ‘colour overlay’ and make it whatever colour you want!

To save your gif, go to file > export > save for web (legacy). It may take a while, so just let ps do its thing until the bar has loaded. You can preview the gif by clicking preview in the bottom left-hand corner, in case you want to cancel and make some changes to your gif before you save it. These are my settings:

And voilà, you have a bright and shiny new gif, doodle, header! If you’d like to use this, you can find it here 💜

#tutorial #header tutorial #tutorial*#resources #headers #chaoticresources #completeresources #yeahps #i hope this helps!!!#thank you to ally @siriusblacks for reading this over for me 🥰

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