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ilydenji · 4 years ago

Note

Please do a pt 2 of toxic traits that had kenma, kageyama, and Tsukishima. Please make it fluff in the end🥺. I loved it

❝toxic pt. 2❞

↳haikyuu boys toxic traits part two

characters: kenma kozume, kageyama tobio, tsukishima kei

warnings/tw: toxic relationships

a/n: I'm so glad you loved the first one !! I hope this is good enough afndjsmsj

(this kinda long sorry lmfoaodjrnf)

part one here

kenma ;

-its been a few weeks since the two of you had talked properly.

-you did what he wanted, you had broken up with him.

-it felt weird going back to your regular life as if nothing had happened. as if you didn't spend half a year with him.

-it did hurt when you realized he didn't even care. that day when you walked away from him, you doubted that he gave it a second thought.

-but, unknowingly, the whole situation was slowly eating kenma up with guilt.

-after your breakup, he briefly had talked about it with kuroo and that’s when he realized how much of an asshole he really was.

-he missed it when you watched him practice, apparently, the other members of his team did too.

-“where’s y/n? are they okay?” lev would ask the most.

-“they broke up idiot- if you’re wondering how they are ask them yourself” of course, yaku would hit him for even mentioning them.

-up until now, kenma never noticed the little things that you did for him. how you would praise his hard work after practice or a game.

-how you would softly comb your fingers through his hair while playing games. or how you would bring him lunch every day in case he forgot to eat.

-not only that, but he started missing the little things about you as well.

-how your nose would scrunch up when you laughed,

-when you would hold his hand, you’d always rub circles on his thumb.

-how you would hum when playing with his hair.

-all those things, why hasn’t he realized them before? why did he let you go?

-why did he hurt you so bad?

-he wanted to— no, he needed to apologize to you.

-he wanted to be with you again, though he didn’t really think he deserved you anymore.

-he wanted to try anyway.

-you received a text from him in the afternoon. you were hesitant to answer. what could he be asking for? his hoodie that he left a month ago?

-when you finally decided to answer it, it read-

-“Can I please talk to you.”

-he wanted to talk now? he had a chance weeks ago. months even.

-you just sighed and texted back saying yes. he asked if he could come over and you agreed, maybe things would end off on a better note? you’d be lying if you said you didn't miss him.

-when kenma came over, he looked different than how he usually did. he didn't have his psp and he didn't use his phone once.

-he slowly walked to your bed and motioned you to sit next to him.

-“I’ve been a big fucking asshole to you, y/n. I'm so sorry I treated you like that.” he would start.

-he ended up apologizing for everything and told you he never realized how much care relationships need.

-“you deserve so much better. it’s selfish of me to even consider the fact you’d take me back but. I missed you a lot, I'm so sorry for hurting you.”

-you wanted to be with him again, to hold him and tell him it’s alright.

-instead, you rest your hand on his shoulder with a squeeze.

-“it's okay, it’s fine. I messed up along the way as well.” you’d start. kenma kept the same stoic expression he usually had. but you can tell in his eyes, he was hopeful.

-“but maybe we don’t belong in a relationship. maybe not yet at least.”

-kenma understood what you meant.

-in the end, the two of you had agreed that to ever get back into a relationship again he had to work on letting himself be vulnerable around you.

-he had promised to be better for you, and wait until you were ready to be with him again. although you had promised to be with him sometime in the future, the pang in his chest didn't fully go away.

-the day ended with him in your arms, comforting him.

-his arms were wrapped around you, his head in the crook of your neck.

-“kenma, I still love you. you know that right?”

-kenma didn't exactly answer. instead, he pulled you closer to him. you could feel his smile against your neck.

-you both still loved each other but decided to take it slow this time. not wanting to hurt each other.

kageyama ;

(reader is into photography bc that's the only thing I could think of I'm sorry lfmsoakedjdnsn)

-it’s been a few days since his last game, where he basically told you that you “clearly didn’t love him”

-in those few days, kageyama couldn’t explain what he was feeling.

-he always had trouble expressing his emotions. so he often ignored them.

-but this time, there was a pit in his stomach that just wouldn’t go away. whenever he looked at his phone he would be tempted to call you.

-he wasn’t so sure if that was a good idea, but the silence was killing him.

-one day during practice he had asked hinata if he had seen you.

-hinata nodded and told him you were out in the courtyard doing club activities.

-kageyama didn't know you were in a club? though, he hardly payed any attention to that stuff.

-he wondered how he could be so clueless, you two have been together for months.

-that day, he skipped practice. that on its own was a whole different story.

-he managed to find you outside, taking pictures of the flowers and anything remotely interesting you could find.

-but no matter how mundane, kageyama didn't fail to notice the smile you had.

-he recognized that look in your eye, that was the look he had whenever it came to volleyball. how could he have not realized how happy your little hobby made you?

-he wanted you to be happy, to see you smile with so much passion like that.

-kageyama approached you cautiously, trying not to scare you.

-“what do you want kageyama?” you started. it startled him a little.

-you didn't need to turn around for you to know he was there. hinata had texted you that kageyama was coming, of course.

-“Nothing... I just.. missed you I guess” he sat down next to you. neither of you had talked, it became awkward fast.

-“so... you like photography? I didn’t know”

-“of course you wouldn't.”

-kageyama cringed at the words. you weren’t wrong in the slightest, he had been ignoring your interests for the longest and he feels like such an ass for it.

-“I'm sorry for not paying attention” he stated. you nodded at his words. but that wasn’t enough for him.

-“I should’ve payed more attention to you, it’s my fault I got so caught up in my own head” still, you didn’t say anything but you did turn your attention to him. progress he thought.

-“I should’ve realized that this, is just as important to you as volleyball is to me.” he rested his hand on top of yours. in return, you squeezed his a little. he smiled softly.

-“I’ll give you more of my attention from now on. okay? I'm sorry y/n. I love you, I really do.” he finished. and that’s what you wanted to hear.

-you wanted him to acknowledge his wrongs and apologize. you knew kageyama struggled with his emotions sometimes but he would eventually come around.

-you rested your head on his shoulder.

-“did you really skip practice for me?”

-“of course I did”

-by the end of the day, kageyama had learned that relationships aren’t just a one-sided thing. that you cant constantly be supporting him without him supporting you.

-he promised to you that no matter what it is that you would do, he would be right by your side cheering you on.

tsukishima ;

-the days had turned to weeks, and tsukishima was barely paying any attention to you. after your little fight, it was clear that he wouldn’t say a word until you said something first.

-but you were scared to.

-how could you not be? his teasing crushed your self-esteem.

-you would notice things about yourself that you never saw before. picking at your skin for the tiniest imperfections.

-or even trying to change your appearance in any way you could to seem different, but in the end, tsukishima didn't pay attention.

-but someone else did, yamaguchi. he was close to tsukishima and knew what was going on.

-he was the first one to comfort you after your fight with your boyfriend. he promised to you that the things he said weren’t true and he never meant it.

-yamaguchi was slowly replacing tsukishima as the days went by. still, the two of you remained friends.

-“I think you should talk to him, y/n. he misses you I know it” he told you one day. he was on his way to practice and asked you to come with.

-you didn't know if that was really true but you decided to put your trust into him.

-instead of going into the gym yourself, you waited for practice to end nearby. you didn't want to be a distraction.

-when practice did end, tsukishima and yamaguchi ended up being the first ones to come out. yamaguchi was smiling as he yelled out for you. tsukishima stayed silent.

-walking towards the two made your anxiety rise. it was nerve-wracking honestly.

-the three of you ended up walking to the gate before yamaguchi told you that he had somewhere to go first and he’d meet you two later.

-after that, it was just the two of you. you noticed how although his house was in the opposite direction, he still walked with you. you smiled a little at that.

-“So what’s up with you and yamaguchi?” he said bluntly. the abrupt interaction kinda scared you a little.

-“Nothing, we’re just friends. why?”

-“nothing. I just don't like seeing you all friendly with him.”

-“Are you jealous?”

-“I guess so”

-his words were so blunt it left you confused.

-you asked him how he could say something like that when he’s been ignoring you for days. and not only that but just straight-up bully you.

-tsukishima stayed silent at that. he had stopped walking at this point, and so had you.

-“listen. I'm sorry for saying those things to you, I was just stressed and took that out on you. I never meant to hurt you y/n, I mean it” you knew tsukishima wasn't the type to talk so openly about how he felt.

-he probably meant it.

-it doesn’t take away the fact that it hurt you. you told him what his words had done to you, that you had tried to change yourself for his approval.

-at this, tsukishima brought you into a hug. he held you close to him, softly petting your hair.

-“I'm sorry y/n, I’m sorry for taking it too far, for making you think so low of yourself. I promise you I never thought those things about you, I was just mad. I should’ve never taken it out on you.”

-at this point, you didn't know if you should be happy about it or cry.

-“it hurt tsukki.” was all you said to him.

-“I know. I'm so sorry y/n, I understand if you cant forgive me.” he pulled away from you to move your hair away from your face, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on your forehead.

-“I understand that I’ve hurt you. you don't need to forgive me. but please know that I love you so much.”

-afterward, tsukki ended up walking you home, holding your hand the rest of the way.

-he knows things might not go back to being the same, but he’s willing to work on letting you past his walls, being nicer towards those he loves, you especially.

-you know old habits die hard and that relationships aren’t always easy. but this was a journey you both were willing to take. both learning from each other to make sure this never happens again.

——-

I'm really hoping this is okay uh- I tried to make this as wholesome as I could but continuing the theme from last time. I might have to just make fluff has for these three after HANDFJDNN (i’m also very sorry for my terrible english @(*$@*(24)

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chrisevansgoodgirl · 4 years ago

Text

i've heard allegations 'bout your reputation, i'll show you my shadows if you show yours

summary: requested (like a year ago, sorry!) Reader and Andy getting in a legitimate fight or maybe flirting in front of him with one of his colleagues to get under his skin because he hasn’t touched her in weeks from being so busy jealous Andy would be so dominant I’m weak i took some liberties and set it at the christmas eve party at andy’s office.

warnings: andrew barber being r o u g h 😩 😩 😩 and jealous 😩 and mean bc i just so deeply want this man to yell at me and pull my hair bc he’s an angry daddy, however, he is not called daddy in this story bc i don’t do it unless you guys ask me to. so smut, and he’s in charge and i’m dead about it. more videos being made bc apparently that’s on my mind.

word count: around 7,500

pairing: andy barber x reader

a/n: i hate that it took me so long to post this but here i am, almost a month late with a christmas eve party story. i have very little shame tbh.

You were not unreasonable, no matter what Andy claimed. You could always admit what was your fault—which was about 80% of all disagreements—but Andy had his faults, too. Tonight? Well, you weren’t innocent…but you were not the only one to blame.

This was the third Christmas party he had taken you to. The first year had not completely been his doing. Lynn had been bothering him about it and he would have gotten away with pretending it just wasn’t possible had Lynn not run into you at the coffee shop near Andy’s house.

You had been accustomed to Andy by then. He didn’t put distance between you two because he wanted to, he just simply wasn’t the best at getting close. You practically forced him into sometimes, and it had never gone wrong, so he trusted you. A lot.

You weren’t sure you were going to be able to say that much longer. You had your moments, those situations where you pushed him just a little too far. Not so far that he was angry about it, but far enough that you ended up with a sore ass and maybe a few finger-shaped bruises on your skin.

As if that was an incentive to stop?

Lately, things had been…off. Andy was working on a big case, one that he had just finished the day before. You expected that he was going to come home and make up for not having touched you in 17 days. Yet, that didn’t happen.

You weren’t trying to complain too much. The “honeymoon phase” was something that could not be applied to your relationship because you were as happy as any other day, you loved him more and more as time went on, and you guys always had sex. Always.

But there were the cases that sometimes threw a slight pause in that. That was fine, you understood and it wasn’t like you were with Andy for sex. You loved that man so fucking much, you could deal with some neglect for a little bit. Emphasis on a little bit.

17 days with no immediate plans to remedy it was crossing a line. So, on the 18th night, the night of his office Christmas party, after he merely kissed your head, told you that you looked beautiful, and didn’t fuck you in your tiny, sparkly dress, you also wanted to cross a line. A specific line because it was hard to get a reaction out of him any other way.

Andrew Barber was a jealous man. It was something you never played with because he was jealous. He wasn’t some immature idiot who was going to cause a scene, but he would interrogate you about people he felt were “suspicious”.

On your way to the party, he had wanted to catch up. He felt like this was the first time he was able to breathe since he was put on the case, and he had noticed some distance between you two. You told him about the very basic parts of your day—work, friends, family.

When he placed his hand on your thigh, you had to wonder if this was a game. Why hadn’t he fucked you? Was he trying to make you beg? That was something Andy thoroughly enjoyed, and you trusted him so much that you rarely ever knew when he was doing it. If you stopped to think about it, you would probably find a few times he’d managed to get away with it.

He let you hold his hand and to avoid having to pull away from you, he told you when to move the gear shift. It was cute, too cute for how long you two had been together, but Andy seemed willing to indulge you. He always did when he could.

But as soon as he got to the party, there was more work talk and he had basically pawned you off on Lynn. She was thrilled, of course, she rarely had time for friendships, but she valued Andy, and because of that, she loved you almost as much as he did.

It had been two hours by the time you were completely fed up. Lynn had decided she was about to head out, so she was making her rounds, and that meant that you were stuck with the other partners. Men, women, they were all talking about how great their lawyers had been lately.

Yet, reminder, you hadn’t been fucked in nearly 18 days. You weren’t going to sit around and listen to that for the whole night, you innocently decided to wander a bit. Andy was talking about his case and seemed almost oblivious to your presence. Why did he even bring you? He was the one that reminded you about it, you probably wouldn’t have realized it had gone by until well into next year since work was so hectic.

Regardless, without an answer, you were left to entertain yourself. What else were you supposed to do? Just sit around all night and not speak to anyone? Andy was a complicated man and he had only a handful of people at the job that he liked, but fewer people that he disliked. Most people, he felt indifferent about, and those were the pawns for your current game.

You flit all around the party, laughing, talking to everyone, and though you saw him seeking out your whereabouts every now and then, there was no reaction at all. He didn’t care that some of these sleazy men were staring at your cleavage or your legs—two things he should have done earlier but did not.

By the time you’d nearly spoken to everyone, you felt…possessed, there was no better way to describe it. You were mad and confused and tired, and till the day you died, you would swear on everything you held sacred, the following was not part of your plan. You simply had no other choice than to go along with it when it practically fell in your lap.

Andy hadn’t noticed your best attempts but as soon as Neal was standing in front of you, he was watching. You had not and would not have gone to Neal, it was the other way around. He was possibly picking up on all your sadness and desperation, he was probably able to spot attention-seeking from a mile away since he pulled those kinds of stunts regularly.

Andy was finally paying attention to you and that was why you didn’t walk away. Your boyfriend could deny it all he wanted, but you saw something in his eyes. There was that anger, of course, but there was also that dark gleam. The one that he had when he liked to lay you out under him and remind you who you belong to.

That was all you wanted, that was the only reasoning behind your actions. You didn’t think you’d done anything wrong, not until you laughed at something Neal said and he laughed back, and then he touched your shoulder.

And that was when you knew things had gone too far. You crossed a line, and you should have known better than even trying to use Neal. Because he envied Andy to no end, understandably. Why wouldn’t he try to flirt with you? No one got Andy as angry as Neal, and you should have just put your ego aside and spoken to your boyfriend.

But that window had closed and your time for being a mature, communicating adult was over. You quickly broke away from Neal after that and Andy took only seconds before he was dragging your ass out of that party and to the car.

You weren’t sure what to do. Pretend you didn’t know what the big deal was? Maybe just start blurting out apologies. He opened the car door for you, ushered you in, and then got into the driver’s seat in complete silence.

Andy had been mad at you before, but he had never been so angry he wouldn’t look at you or speak to you. He was gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles were white. His jaw set, brow furrowed, shoulders tense—he stayed that way the entire drive.

Andy wasn’t like this, he usually always had his temper in control. You were worried because you were one of the few people Andy sincerely trusted. It would devastate you if this gave him pause.

When he stopped the car, it became uncomfortably silent. It had taken you almost a minute to decide where you wanted to take this. “Andy, I’m—”

“Don’t apologize.”

“But I am s—”

“Get upstairs, take your dress off, and wait for me on the bed.”

Shit. You fumbled with the handle for a moment, scurrying inside and up the stairs. This was everything that you had wanted, wasn’t it? Then why the fuck were you nervous? Why were you shaking? Why did the idea of a black hole appearing and swallowing you sound so appealing?

You took off your dress and hung it back in your closet. You’d only been in it for a few hours, that didn’t warrant an actual wash. Shakily, you made your way back to the bed and sat there. What about your bra and panties? He hadn’t said. Your shoes? Fuck, what were you supposed to do?

Andy walked in and flipped on the light.

Idiot, why hadn’t you done that?

He made his way to the dresser off to the side of the bedroom, he removed his jacket first, then his cuff links and his tie. He started rolling up his sleeves and you had to look away.

You turned down to your lap. “You didn’t tell me if you wanted me to keep anything else on.”

“I also didn’t tell you that you could speak,” he asserted.

Your stomach dropped, the mere thought of not following his directions was unsettling. When Andy got like this, you wanted to do what he told you to. You wanted him to think you were his good girl. Any time you failed at absolute perfection, you didn’t take it well.

You didn’t know if you should apologize or remain silent. You were wringing your hands, something you became aware of only when he made his way in front of you and placed his hands over yours. You startled slightly, looking up at him.

He grabbed your chin with his thumb and forefinger, keeping your head tilted back. “Are you nervous?”

“I don’t know,” you muttered. You didn’t want him to feel bad because you were feeling some type of way. You also didn’t want to think this had anything to do with him. He’d never given you reason to be nervous.

“Are you scared?”

“Kind of.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to disappoint you.”

He leaned down, face directly in front of yours. “Before we start, I need you to understand that you’ve never disappointed me. Okay?”

You nodded. “Okay.” That didn’t really help as much as he probably thought it would. Even if you hadn’t disappointed him, there was always the chance that you would. And you weren’t sure he was being completely honest anyway. Neal? What the fuck was wrong with you?

“You don’t need to be nervous or scared, just be completely honest with me.”

“Of course.” You would never lie to him.

“Who do you belong to?”

Your answer was immediate, you didn’t even need to think about it. Recalling life before you met Andy was a bit blurry. Who had you been? Where? What had you wanted? “You.”

“So,” he ran his thumb over your bottom lip, “this mouth…”

“Is yours,” you confirmed.

He hummed, fingers trailing from your face all the way down, between your breasts, over your stomach, stopping at the band of your panties. He paused, noting the shakiness in your breath, the goosebumps on your skin, your hands that were gripping the sheets.

Abruptly, his hand dropped to where you had been expecting it to. Your breath hitched and your hips jumped off the bed, desperate for his touch.

He made a small noise of disapproval and you hurriedly settled back down on the bed. “This pussy? Is that mine, too?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

He pulled your panties off to the side and his fingers ran up your wet skin at an agonizing pace. He brought them up to his lips and his tongue slipped out to taste you. He smiled because you had managed to stay almost completely still, apart from a bit of squirming. “You’re such a good girl, baby. You know that’s one of my favorite things about you, how good you are for me.”

That gave you these awful butterflies and you felt hot everywhere. That was all you ever needed to hear. His hand returned to your center and his first finger slid into you. You looked down to see but he grabbed your jaw again and turned you back up.

“Keep watching me, baby.”

He liked to test you, you knew that. He would give you an order and try to make you disobey him. This time, when his hand fell away from your face, you forced yourself to keep your head tilted. You ignored that burning part of you that wanted to see his fingers pushing in and pulling out, covered in what was dripping from your pussy.

You focused on just feeling. One thick finger was slowly working you open for him, he always stretched you out as much as he could meaning you had to be prepared for some teasing. He prioritized this because he was big and he knew it—and you had been smitten enough before he fucked you, but after, there wasn’t a second of the day your body didn’t crave Andy’s.

Despite how rough Andy could be with you, and how generally tough he was, he liked to baby you. Sometimes, he liked treating you as delicately as one would a bouquet of flowers. He could see a lot of comparisons if he really thought about it. You were beautiful, soft, and smelled so sweet. And if he didn’t pay attention to you, well, he’d been reminded of those consequences at the party.

You kept your eyes on his the entire time. You didn’t falter when he added his second finger, nor when he curled his fingers against that spot inside you, nor when his thumb pressed down firmly on your clit.

He pressed one hand down on your shoulder, a cue to lie back. After you had obliged, he pulled his fingers out of you and told you to open your mouth. You instantly did so, closing around his fingers as soon as they were in your reach.

He pressed his fingers down and kept going until your body jerked and the noise of you gagging echoed in the room. “I wanna see those beautiful lips wrapped around my cock, baby girl.”

You eagerly sat up, still sucking on his fingers as you pulled his belt apart, yanked the button of his pants open, and tore down the zipper. Glancing up at him to look for any signs that you didn’t have his permission to proceed, you pushed his pants and boxers down cautiously until his cock was out.

He pulled his fingers from your mouth and nodded. “Go ahead, baby.”

You moved back on the bed and situated yourself onto your stomach, propping up on your elbows. One hand wrapped around his hard length and you let the tip of your tongue come out to catch the precum dripping from his tip.

He released a shaky breath, hands at his sides because he wanted you running the show. For a while, a least. He didn’t want to guide you, he wanted to see how exactly you were going to make up for your slight misstep at the party.

You ran your tongue up his shaft lightly, feigning that whole soft act that you knew he loved. It wasn’t so much an act, but you had been bent over his desk, hair pulled, ass spanked, both holes thoroughly used. But you liked soft, too. You liked slow and gentle mornings, whispered words, careful touching. You liked whatever he wanted to give you.

You closed your lips around just the head of his cock and sucked. Unlike all other men you had been with, Andy was as patient as a saint. He loved when you teased him. Once, he had you edge him with your mouth for nearly an hour and thinking about how he fucked you after still made your toes curl.

His eyes closed and he sighed. “Fuck, baby.” His hand lightly settled on the back of your head. “So good, I could fuck your mouth for the rest of my life.” He didn’t push you down, he just ran his hand through your hair over and over because he knew how much you liked him to play with your hair.

But then his hold tightened and he pulled you off, much to your dismay. He noted your pout and pleading eyes but was kind enough not to taunt you about them. “Get on your back, sweetheart.”

You knew what he wanted as soon as he stepped away. You quickly climbed up toward the edge of the bed and rolled over, bending your neck over the mattress. You automatically opened your mouth for him, but he placed his hands on your shoulders first.

“Relax.” He leaned over and ran his hands along your arms, setting them on the mattress. He pressed your thighs down, waiting until you had lost all the tension in your body. He curled his hand around his length and stroked several times with a loose hand and a slow pace.

You watched in utter fascination. It never failed to get you wet when Andy showed so much control, over himself, over you. He was in charge of every little thing and you could tell that he got off on that. Every time he reached the head of his cock, he would press down so slightly, so close to your lips but just not enough.

“Andy,” you whispered. “Please.”

He smirked again. “Open your mouth for me.” And as soon as you did, he was slowly sliding in. He was slow at first, keeping his hips still as he slipped the straps of your bralette past your shoulders. He rolled the remaining material down until your breasts were exposed and squeezed them in his hands.

You pressed your thighs together, arching up into his hands more. You tried to relax your throat for him, knowing he was only stopping to give you a moment to prepare.

He pinched your nipples painfully and didn’t stop until you whined. He loved feeling you make that sound when his cock was down your throat, and the deep breaths as the pain faded away. Again, he tortured your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, yanked a little, until you were squirming all around the bed, making these noises around him that he rarely ever heard, your eyes filled with tears.

He leaned over quickly, releasing your breasts so he could give them both a brief kiss. You closed your eyes, humming in satisfaction. He took his time sinking his teeth into your sore, erect nipples and you squealed both times, back arching again. His tongue rolled over your stinging skin and you tilted your head eagerly, attempting to take more of him.

Sometimes, it was enough to get him naturally high, how much power he had over you, your body. He could hurt you and you would thank him; he could turn around and give you just a second of gentleness and you looked at him like you’d never loved anyone as much as you loved him. You claimed that, quite often. Andy wasn’t sure if he believed that, not because he didn’t trust you but because he wasn’t wired to think of himself as special in any way. Why you treated him like he was, was confusing to him at times.

But you were special, so fucking special. You were smart and funny, and so kind to every single person you encountered. It was a nice change from the environment he regularly found himself in. That was what you were supposed to be—a breath of fresh air from his hard life. You were not supposed to become his only source of oxygen, yet there he was. It didn’t seem he was reliant on you because Andy wasn’t comfortable expressing reliance on anyone, but he knew he was.

He stood and watched your body move with those deep, sharp breaths you were taking. Abruptly, his hand whipped across one breast, then the other. You cried out, a nice vibration around him, and now you were quivering. It was so easy for him to play your body like this because you were just needy enough that anything would have given you pleasure. Another thing he knew, another thing that made him so damn cocky.

“Open your legs,” he told you and you parted your thighs. Again, he pulled aside your lace panties and pushed two of his fingers inside you. Your cunt was dripping, your arousal gushing out as his fingers thrust in, curled, searched for that spot that made your eyes roll back. The noise of it made his cock twitch.

Your pussy was throbbing, yearning for the release that only this man could give you. You didn’t care how he did it, you just needed Andy. Hands, mouth, cock, you would take anything he wanted you to have.

“Listen to that greedy pussy,” he directed, voice low and quiet. “So desperate to be filled and fucked. But by who, baby?”

Your stomach twisted at not being able to answer him. That was why he asked when you had your mouth full of him, because if you could speak, you would blurt out reassurances that it was only him.

“Me?” he pressed.

You spoke, despite knowing it was going to sound like nonsense.

“And no one else?”

You were quick with your denial. And maybe, by now, since his cock was always in your mouth, he was a professional at understanding what you were saying. Or possibly, it was just the look in your eyes.

“You sure, baby?”

Once more, your voice came out muffled but hurried, almost panicked. He had to know that you didn’t even think about anyone else. He had to know that you thought he was the most beautiful man in the world.

He dragged his free hand up your body and it settled over your neck. Finally, he pulled out from your mouth only to thrust back in harshly. You choked, your throat contracting around him while he massaged his thumb and finger over your pulse points. He let you breathe through it before he started rocking his hips ever so slightly. You could feel him moving along your tongue and your cheeks, but they were small motions.

You always loved this position; it was easier to take all of him. It was easier to breathe on your back with your chest open, and, unlike being on your knees, it left you open for him.

He leaned forward slightly, pressing one hand off to the side of the bed while the other reached between your legs. His fingers danced along your skin without any real intent, but occasionally, he would touch your clit.

You were reaching for any part of him you could touch. Your hands mindlessly grasped at his back and kept slipping off because of his shirt. You couldn’t ask but you wanted it off. He felt your hands working open his buttons and decided to let you have something. He was going to take and take tonight, he could give you a little.

He stood up and loosened his tie enough to pull it off, then shrugged his shirt off. Once again, his palm settled to your neck. “You should see yourself right now. Shaking, wet, such a good girl.”

You reached up, gripping one hand in his pants, the other around the buckle of his belt and you pulled him in more until your throat was struggling.

“Easy, baby.” He took your hands off him, keeping a hold of one and placing the next back down on the bed. He pulled out carefully, dragging his hand up, and inch by inch, pushed back in. “You should see how deep I’m getting. I can see it right here.” The palm of his hand hovered over your skin, just enough that you could feel him, and he followed his cock again, letting you know how much of him you were taking.

It was a lot of him, not enough. And he was deep, but you needed more. You whined, a plea for him to move this along. He couldn’t want to drag this out, not after almost 18 days.

Again, he leaned over until he could touch you. His hips moved steadily, a controlled move that matched how strategically he was working your cunt, everywhere but the most sensitive part of you.

You hated that you couldn’t beg, but it wasn’t as if he didn’t know. It wasn’t as if you weren’t shaking or if your cunt wasn’t clenching desperately, you knew if he couldn’t feel it, he could at least see it. This went on for several moments, he was proud of how well you were taking him, and wanted to give you some type of award.

You were more than just caught off guard when you felt his lips against one of your thighs. Fuck. He couldn’t, you wouldn’t last long. But he went on, scattering kisses over your thighs, fucking your mouth just a fraction harder as he grew closer to your pussy.

As he licked down from your clit to your entrance, your eyes rolled back. Your hips jumped off the bed and one of his hands held you down in response. You were trembling, whining utter nonsense.

Several times, his tongue ran through you and you’d been so worked up, so wet and frustrated since he’d pulled you out of the party, since he hadn’t fucked you in a while, and this was just happening too fast. You wanted to focus on him, you wanted to apologize in the best way you knew how.

You tried to push him back with your hands on his thighs, but you were nowhere near strong enough.

He turned his head to kiss your thigh again. His hips stilled, most of his cock out of your mouth just in case. “Do you need a moment, baby?”

You debated. If you actually made him stop, made him pull out even if just for a second solely so you could ask him not to make you come...he would be outraged. He might even turn you over and spank you. But he also might not let you come at all. You would die, you knew you would.

You let your hands fall away.

“You okay?”

You hummed slowly, comfortably.

Still, one hand settled on your hip bone to keep you from moving, the other you felt on the back of your thigh close to your ass. He kissed your pussy slowly, sucking at your skin just a little, but not your clit, not yet.

He was careful as he began fucking your mouth again, worried he had pushed you too far. He waited until he was sure you were okay before he sucked your clit between his lips and slipped two fingers into you.

You whined around him as your body shuddered.

He kissed you again, several times to get you to calm down. “It’s okay, baby girl. Be a good girl for me.”

So, you understood, he realized that you wanted to object to this, but Andy was the greediest man you had ever had in bed. You weren’t surprised that he just didn’t care. You found it hard to mind as he began fucking his fingers in and out of you, sloppy, wet noises echoing around the room.

He was sucking again and you were desperately clutching at any part of him you could, his sides, his legs. You weren’t pushing him away now, you were pulling him in.

You were so close, your body arching up as much as it could. You felt tension building in every part of your body. Your own hands came up to your breasts mostly because you knew he would feel your hands moving underneath him.

“Fuck,” he cursed. He left your cunt neglected of his mouth for several moments, only using his fingers, as his cock drove down your throat hard.

You were choking loudly, your body again moving wildly as you gagged. It couldn’t have been more than a few times but they were determined thrusts, you were sure he was going to come in your mouth.

Instead, he pulled out completely and you whined shortly. You didn’t want him to go, but you couldn’t say that. All you could do was try to catch your breath. He didn’t even give you a moment to protest before his face was buried in your cunt.

In seconds, you were a mewling, moaning mess for him. Your body was so tight, so full of unbearable tension. You were shaking, sweating, your pussy was loud and soaking wet and you knew you were dripping everywhere, on him, on the bed.

He didn’t tease, he wanted to let you come because he wanted you coming all night. His favorite form of punishment was too much of a good thing, not withholding how much he enjoyed touching you.

You finished with a scream loud enough that the neighbors probably heard. Again.

Andy touched you through it until you stopped moving, save for the shaking aftershocks when he got a tad too close to your clit. When you were loose and sated on the bed, he started to sit you up.

You quickly turned to him, grasping his face. “I love you, only you.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

“I would never look at anyone else.”

“I believe you.” Even if he didn’t, this was not the place to voice that. This...state he got you in when he was this dominant, this demanding, was not completely unlike you. It was just a very obedient, sensitive version of you that he knew he had to be careful with. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt your feelings.

He touched your face and that was when you realized you were crying, he was wiping away your tears. It was either from your finish or from choking on him, you weren’t completely sure. “You’re okay?”

You nodded quickly. “I’m okay.”

He kissed your forehead and you felt hot. As if what you two were just doing wasn’t filthy, this was what made your heart beat faster and gave you those butterflies in your stomach.

He pulled back and kept hold of your face. “What does my baby girl want?”

“I want to feel you inside me.”

As his lips met yours, he began removing all the remaining clothing on either of your bodies. He moved you up the bed until he could lay your head on a pillow and then positioned himself over you.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he promised. “Keep saying it.”

As he carefully pushed into you, you continued to tell him you love him. You stared at him the whole time, willing your body to relax for him. He didn’t like it when you got so worked up, especially over the games he played in the bedroom. The thing with Neal was bad but it was over and you knew he wasn’t mad at you. He wouldn’t fuck you like this if he was.

You clutched onto his shoulders, trying to hold him as close to you as you possibly could. He was the one that grabbed your legs and cued you to wrap them around his body. His cock sliding into your pussy was a feeling you couldn’t understand why he’d left you deprived of.

Once his hips were settled against your thighs and he was completely buried inside you, you reached up to his face. You loved his cheekbones, you could trace them with your touch for days if he let you. And his beard, you loved feeling his beard under your fingertips.

He let you do this, explore him as if you could possibly forget anything after all the other times you did it. You remembered the first time he fucked you, you couldn’t stop staring, you couldn’t stop touching—he was so painfully beautiful. He was so patient with you, always had been, and now, despite how badly you felt his need to move, to fuck you, he was going to wait for you to be ready.

“You did this on purpose,” you muttered.

“Did what?”

“You didn’t fuck me. For 17 days. You…wanted me to make a scene—”

“That’s a pretty serious accusation.”

“I could take it to court and win,” you countered.

He smirked. “Could you? What’s my motive?”

“You like being possessive. You like dragging me out of places, you like bringing me home, you like reminding me who I belong to.”

“And were you reminded?”

“No one really belongs to anyone or anything at the end of the day—”

“No,” he interjected, tone sharp. You always liked that tone. “You belong to me.”

“Maybe…”

“You are mine,” he repeated. “And you’re going to say it or we’re going to have a long night.”

“I will say it if you admit this was your plan all along.”

“You think I wanted you to flirt with Neal?”

Your stomach flipped. “I wasn’t—”

He nodded, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I know, I didn’t mean to word it like that. I know you weren’t—”

You felt slightly like you were about to panic. Flirting with Neal? No. “Never, I would never—”

He shushed you. “I know, baby. I know you wouldn’t because you are a good girl. I promise I know that.”

You settled somewhat but that lingering feeling in the pit of your stomach was hard to ignore. Flirting with Neal? You couldn’t bear him thinking you would ever do that to him. Flirting in general with people Andy felt indifferent to was off the table unless you wanted to placate his desires. Certainly, he had to know that.

“I wanted to hear you beg,” he insisted. “That was what I wanted. I wanted honest begging because you are so fucking beautiful begging for my cock.”

You huffed. “Well, you should have asked.”

“I didn’t want to have to ask.”

“You could have given me a hint. I was going around your party trying to get your attention—”

“You had it, you always do. Now, tell me who you belong to.”

“I think we all belong to the stars.”

“No,” he sighed.

“Or the moon, people who experience menstruation especially. The moon controls us, it’s been studied by scientists. There are articles.”

“Scientific articles do not support that,” he asserted and you couldn’t help but laugh. Andy was exact. He didn’t believe in anything he couldn’t see or that couldn’t be proven. Even now, inside you, he couldn’t turn that part of his brain off.

“Baby,” he sighed as his hand came up to curl around your neck. It just rested there, a heavy reminder of all the times in the past he had held you like that, or those other times when he applied just the right amount of pressure. “I want to fuck you, I want to make you cry, I want you to be shaking after I’m done with you, I want to fill you up with my cum. Don’t you want that?”

You nodded, once again turned on beyond comprehension.

“Then be good and say what I want you to say. Don’t make me make you say it.”

“What if I want you to make me?”

“You don’t.”

Andy’s punishments were always so elaborate and such a blur. He knew how to reduce you to nothing but need, and you needed him so badly sometimes. He loved seeing you like that, but he didn’t always like taking you there. He knew how careful he needed to be during and after, so he reserved it for major misbehavior.

You brought one hand up and set it on his forearm. You could feel his skin and his muscles. “I belong to you.”

Just barely, as he stared at your face, his hold tightened. Your breath stuttered but you made sure not to get too worked up too soon. You didn’t want him to have to stop before he finished inside you.

“That can never happen again, baby.”

“I know. It never will. I’m so—”

He tightened his hand again. “Don’t say sorry.”

You didn’t understand why he wouldn’t let you say the one word you so badly needed to say.

“I don’t blame you, sweetheart, I’m just saying…it can’t happen again.”

You caught the lead of his tone. “But what if it does?”

“I might have to make sure he knows that you’re mine.”

You wanted him to let the whole world know. You knew he saw your eyes light up because he smirked. “How would you do that?”

“I might have to let him see how I fuck you. I might have to show him how I can make you beg for me, or how willingly you bend over when I’m going to spank you. I might have to show him how wet you get after I mark up your ass, maybe how whiny you get when my hand is around your throat. But maybe I’ll just have to send him the video I’ve been recording tonight, how well you can suck my cock, how badly you want to.”

You were stunned for a moment—recording? Where was the camera? The idea of Andy recording you was such a turn on. You loved making videos for him, but you’d always wanted to see one where he was with you. “You’ve been recording?”

“Would you be okay with that if I was?”

“Yes. I want to watch you fuck me.”

“You’re such a good girl.” He pulled his hips back once and then snapped up noisily, pulling a moan from your throat. “You know how much I love that sound? When you can hardly breathe but you still make all those noises you know I want to hear.”

He leaned in to kiss you, hips stilled, hand still wrapped around your neck. It was brief, a reward, a reminder. You were being good and he loved you, but he was going to fuck you.

You broke away, nodding to let him know you were ready, that you wanted this. “Please.”

He rolled over so you were on top of him. He kept his hold on your neck to keep you sitting up and used his opposite hand to grab your ass. After he kneaded your skin hard enough he knew it would bruise, he spanked you loudly, harshly. Your body jerk forward, taking him in deeper than you knew was possible.

You whined, trying to pull back a little. He gripped your ass again and held you there. It was painful but exciting, you wanted him to push your limits tonight. He so rarely did, concerned with pleasing you second and treating you delicate first.

He let you go only to spank your other ass cheek. Again, you moved forward and you felt fuller than you ever had. You ached between your legs, almost uncomfortably but the idea of having him this deep in your body was making you wetter by the second. You were dripping, you could see how wet his skin was, how much of a mess he was making of your pussy.

“Ride me, sweetheart.”

You found a comfortable position, your hands on either side of his waist in the mattress. He settled his arm between your breasts so he could still see them moving as you began jerking your hips back and forth. They were sharp, abrupt movements because you wanted to come so bad, you could hardly think of anything else. Save for your disbelief over the fact that he was making you do this yourself. But you didn’t argue because the last thing you wanted was punishment for talking back.

He closed his hand more, every sound you made was short and strangled. You moved faster, knowing he was closer when he choked you harder. His free hand took one of your breasts. He was so delicate at first, a gentle, slow touch before he was pinching your nipple so hard you were whining. He smacked your breast and you shuddered, nearly falling forward onto him, but he kept you up. Mostly because he wanted to do it again to your other breast.

Every slap against your breasts—loud and stinging, always surprising because he didn’t want you to have the comfort of a pattern—was pushing you closer to your orgasm. You were mindlessly bouncing on his cock, uncaring of the pain you felt every time you came down just a little too hard for how big he was. You felt like an animal, like you were simply a victim to your body’s depraved, primal desires.

You finished first, screaming things you would be impressed if he actually understood. You could cry, the tension built over days was finally all gone.

He rolled over once more, taking his spot on top again.

You clung to him, legs and arms, pulling him in like you would die if he wasn’t close enough. You needed to feel his whole body against yours.

“Hear that, baby?”

Oh, you heard. You’d been trying to ignore it, but of course, not if Andy had any say in it.

“Hear how wet your pussy is?”

So wet. Every time he pulled out and pushed in, the noise would fill the room. You only nodded.

Since you were wrapped around him so tightly, it wasn’t difficult for him to grab your hip and move you up the bed with him. He set you against the headboard, the pillows under the small of your back, propping you up for him.

He was on his knees now for more leverage. You knew he was going to fuck you hard. “Look at this, baby.” He slowly pulled out and you turned down to watch. “See how messy you’re getting my cock?”

“Yes,” you whined.

He grabbed his cock, used it to drag up and down your cunt several times.

“Andy, please.”

He shushed you, a slow, calm action that contrasted when he smacked the head of his cock against your clit.

You gasped and your hips jerked forward.

“Stay still,” he warned.

He did it over and over, and enjoyed watching you fail at trying to stay seated on the bed. He thrust in completely, quick and hard, only to pull out and smack your clit again. This was his routine for what felt like an agonizing hour, but you knew it was nowhere near that long. You knew even he didn’t have that kind of patience.

You cried out when he finally buried himself inside you again. As he pushed forward, he pulled you down. His fingers found your clit and you were soon tumbling over that edge once more.

As he finished, he pulled you on top of him, lying back on the bed. One arm wrapped tight around your back to pin you against his chest, his opposite hand tangled in your hair tightly. He hid his face in the bend of your neck, grunting as his hips continued to rock just slightly.

He kept you there for several long moments until he had completely satisfied himself. You were intoxicated being this close to him. You angled your head as much as you could and kissed the side of his face.

He turned over, setting you on the bed as he pulled out. You watched him curiously, moving to sit up with him. He made a disapproving noise and you laid back again. Once again, he made his way to the dresser and grabbed his phone.

“You were seriously recording?”

He arched an eyebrow. “Do I usually bluff?”

Nope, never.

“Now I have a reference if you ever forget how a good girl is supposed to act.”

You suppressed an eye roll.

“Open your legs.” He came closer, directing the camera at your pussy. He touched you, spreading his cum all over your skin, rubbing circles around your clit, just barely dipping his fingers into you.

You watched his face the whole time. You loved how much Andy loved you and when he stared at you after fucking you, it was hard to miss. He was obsessed with you and he never minded showing it.

For almost a month, you watched that video every day. You were fascinated by him, the way he moved, the way he touched you. After that, you started wanting to record more and Andy never minded.

requests to be tagged:

@onetwo3000 @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @donutloverxo @kleohoneyao3 @cevans-fics

#andy barber x reader #my writing

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fantastic-bby · 4 years ago

Text

ATEEZ vs. Christmas confessions

Pairing: Gender neutral Reader x Member

Genre: Pure fluff

Word count: 2.5k

Summary: When you spend Christmas at the ATEEZ dorm, they confess to you

Warnings: -

A/n: Merry Christmas!! It’s already Christmas over where I’m at, but it might be weird because I know half of the world is still only in the 24th, but I hope everyone has an amazing Christmas and Happy New Years!

Masterlist

Hongjoong

Would help you decorate a few weeks beforehand

I feel like he’s probably more excited than he would show

He just really likes christmas

He even made a v short song about it because he likes it that much

Wants to see what you think about it

Bcs your opinion matter a lot to him ｡◕‿◕｡

Still won’t admit that he likes you even tho it’s pretty obvious

Spends the night trying to stay close to you

Would probably get bullied by the other members because they all know

If anyone else got you for secret santa, he would pretty much beg them to let him have you

“Please???”

“Hyung, it’s just your luck”

“PLEASE????”

He just keeps saying please until Wooyoung gives him your name because he starts feeling bad

Would buy you cute multiple gifts but they’re all small gifts

Mingi or Yunho would purposefully hold mistletoe above the two of you

Bcs they just want him to tell you already

He’s nervous

You’re nervous

You’re both just staring at each other like ●﹏●

Until someone else Yeosang just yells at you to kiss already

You peck his cheek softly

Joong’s face is completely red

He wants to kiss you more

Pulls you away from everyone else to finally confess to you

When you say you like him back he politely asks for another kiss like the good boy he is

Seonghwa

Got you for secret santa when everyone drew names

He’s excited bcs he knows exactly what to get you

He likes you a lot and tries to make it obvious but not too obvious

Apparently it's not obvious to you bcs you brush it off a lot as friendly flirting

Puts him down a lot bcs he’s worried you don’t like him back

You do

You’re just oblivious to it

San teases him about it a lot

Wooyoung teases you about it a lot

“Whaaat?? There’s no way Hwa likes me haha Woo you’re being weird”

Hwa helps you set up the tree because everyone else planned something to finally get you two together

They’re all hiding from both of you

When you and Hwa are alone you’re just setting up the tree while listening to music

He loves the way you find the ornaments so pretty even when half of them are crumpled

Bcs Mingi bullied Jongho so he hit him with the bag of ornaments

Mingi’s lucky they weren’t glass ornaments

Anygays

When you notice that Hwa’s staring at you

(ﾟωﾟ;)

You blush ofc bcs hhhhh why’s he staring at you like that???

“I like you”

He blurts it out bcs he can’t hold it in anymore

When he realises that he said it, he blushes like crazy

You’re blushing too

You’re also freaking out on the inside

If you know that tiktok audio filled with high pitched squeaking and screaming yea that’s what’s going on inside your brain

“(Y/n)...?”

“yeAH! ◎ܫ◎”

You’re flustered

But you finally tell him you like him back too

The both of you spend the rest of the night pretty much stuck together while the other members bully you both for taking too long to get together

Yunho

AAAA I love this man

If he likes you he would be so precious and flustered about it

Gets nervous around you vvvvvv easily

Completely forgets how to act like a human around you

“Yunho?”

He screams

And it scares everyone in the room because what???

You’re staring at him like “wtf”

He’s staring at you like O_O

Can’t believe he embarrassed himself like that

Gets teased by Seonghwa

The other members knew ofc bcs he’s so bad at hiding it

You also had a feeling but you never really said anything about it

Helps you go christmas shopping for secret santa

He runs around the store like an excited puppy

Is so amazed by all the cute decorations

“(Y/n)!!! Can we get these?”

Points to random decorations and holds them out in front of your face

You let him because you think it’s cute

When you actually get to decorating their dorm he stumbles around a lot

Makes you really worried

You see him hanging the lights

The ladder starts shaking

“YUNHO???”

He fell but he’s fine because Hongjoong broke his fall he almost crushed the poor man

Confesses to you on accident

He’s talking to Mingi about it in their room and you accidentally overhear bcs the door is slightly open

“I like (Y/n) a lot”

“Yea it’s so obvious”

“That’s not helping”

Wants to confess at the right time

But since you overhear you push open their door to the bedroom and they’re both staring at you like (◯Δ◯∥)

You’re staring at Yunho

He’s staring at you

Mingi ran away

“Yun, I like you too you know”

He goes all huh

You tell him that you like him too you just never said anything about it

His face goes from O-O to :D real quick

Cuddles you for the rest of the night

Won’t let you leave his side

Yeosang

No one knows about his crush on you

He’s very secretive about it

Thought about talking to Wooyoung but he knows that man might just spill to you on accident

It’s happened before and Yeo calls him a bumbling fool because of it

Can compose himself around you

But sometimes his mind just goes into overdrive

Finds everything about you adorable

You got San for secret santa

You’re torn between buying him condoms as a joke or actually getting him a proper gift

Yeosang thinks it’s cute that you even considered buying him peppermint flavoured condoms bcs even he thinks it’s funny

“Yeosang, seriously, should I get him condoms or the plushie???”

Laughs at you bcs he finds you extremely adorable

Even tho he’s not your boyfriend, he protects you whenever the members tease you about something

You tripped over Yunho’s long ass legs while he was sprawled out in the living room, letting San and Wooyoung try and turn him into the grinch

You get covered in the weird green fur that they were using

When Yeosang hears them laughing at you

He comes up behind them all (-`д´-)

He makes them leave you alone

“Don’t laugh at them!!”

Helps clean you up too

It takes a lot of time because you’re covered in glue

“Why are they using elmer’s glue???”

“I don’t know,,,”

You two spend quite some time in the bathroom just trying to clean your previously cute sweater

Yeosang decides he’ll just throw it into the wash in the morning

Lets you wear that really big grey hoodie of his bcs he thinks you look so (♥ω♥*)

The way it pretty much engulfs you completely

He tells you before you leave his room

“I like you a lot, (Y/n)”

You’re honestly surprised

Didn’t expect him to like you back because he’s just that good at hiding it

You tell him you like him too

He pats your head while feeling all c:

Spends the rest of the night helping WooSan turn Yunho into the grinch

San

He tried to make it really obvious that he likes you

You just never seemed to notice

Flirts with you a lot

Compliments you a lot

Calls you cute a lot

But you just blush and brush it off

He’s all pouty because he thinks you don’t like him back

He forces Jongho to give him your name for secret santa

“Please”

“But hyuuuung”

“GIVE ME THE DAMN NAME”

Jongho’s lowkey sad bcs he knew what he wants to get you but doesn’t know what to get for Hongjoong

San goes all out

Buys you a HUGE gift

Like it’s actually HUGE

The box is almost the size of Yunho

You’re kinda scared of the large package when you see it

But when you open it you’re all UWU because it’s a giant teddy bear

There’s a cute note hanging off of the tag saying it’s from San

Draws a cute c: on the note

He tells the others he has a plan to confess to you

He asks Yeosang to hold mistletoe above the two of you

Yeosang thinks it’s dumb

So he asks Seonghwa instead

He also thinks it’s dumb

(｀Д´)

San asks all of them to help

Hongjoong offers because he wants to be nice (also bcs he knows that if San asks Wooyoung, he might throw the mistletoe at the two of you and accidentally hurt someone in the process)

Hongjoong gets Mingi to help bcs he��s tall

Mingi hangs the mistletoe from the ceiling

Almost gives Joong a heart attack in the process bcs he almost slipped off the ladder

San’s excited

Mingi accidentally slips anyway and almost brings down the whole ceiling with him

Everyone’s terrified

Mingi gets up and reassures everyone he’s fine despite almost destroying the whole dorm

San’s frustrated bcs now he has no excuse to just kiss you

Instead, Yeosang shoves you two into the closet and locks the door

Forces San to confess or else he’ll tell you himself

He finally tells you

You go “ohhhhh” bcs now you realise his flirting was actually flirting and not just San being playful

You apologise for being so oblivious

San finds you so adorable he just kisses your nose

You love it

Spends the rest of the night trailing you like a puppy and makes hot coco with you

Mingi

Mingi’s like Yunho

Becomes an absolute mess around you

Doesn’t know how to handle his feelings

Finds every inch of you insanely adorable

He pretty much does everything for you

“Mingi, can you help me with—”

“Okay :D”

“I didn’t even say what it was…”

It was just baking cookies

He helps you decorate the cookies

He messes up a lot

The snowmen cookies don’t look anything like snowmen but you find them so cute

Mingi makes you laugh a lot bcs he likes hearing you laugh

Purposefully messes up the cookies to show them to you

“(Y/n)! Look!”

He managed to turn the santa hat into traffic cone

You find it so cute

Mingi’s just an absolute bundle of sunshine around you

When you’re all decorating the christmas tree

Jongho hands you the star to place at the top

But you can’t reach it because the tree’s so tall

Yunho offers to help but Mingi shoves him aside asks him to let him do it

He stands behind you

“I’ll carry you”

“Wait—no—”

You don’t have any time to process that he’s lifted you onto his shoulders

You’re surprised at how easily he carries you

Almost bumps your head onto the ceiling because he’s so tall

“Mingi!! Careful!!”

He has to squat slightly so that you don’t get hurt

When he brings you back down he has the biggest smile on his face

“I like you”

Your face changes from :D to (꒪⌓꒪) real quick

Mingi thinks you don’t like him back

Gets sad for a moment

It’s not that you don’t

You just didn’t think he liked you back and now you’re so flustered your brain pretty much short circuits

“Nononono”

He visibly deflates

You explain that you like him back

His group members cheer for him bcs goddamn you both took so damn long to confess

He spends the rest of the night clinging onto you

“Mingi, I have to pee”

“Bring me with you”

Wooyoung

He doesn’t want to make it as obvious that he likes you but he can’t help it

When you’re around he gets so excited his volume goes all the way up

You find it adorable

You know he likes you and you like him too

You just wanna see how far he goes before he finally confesses to you

He helps you cook dinner

You accidentally burn yourself while cooking and he’s all “!!!”

Maybe he went a bit overboard

Tries to wrap your entire hand in bandages

“Woo, I promise I’m fine. It’s just a burn”

Still offers to run out and buy something to soothe the burn

It’s not even that serious, your hand just grazed the frying pan lightly

Wooyoung only calms down when you reassure him for the hundredth time

Keeps an eye on you while you continue cooking but loosens up after a while

He feeds you the food to taste (＾▽＾)

Chases you around with a wooden spoon because you pranked him

When he catches you

He can’t bring himself to hit you really hard

So he just

Taps your arm with it

When it’s time to unwrap presents

You realise that Wooyoung was your secret santa

He got a picture of the two of you framed

It’s a picture you both really like

Wooyoung LOVES the picture

Every time he sees it he just gets all (♥ω♥ )

It was the first time you went to their concerts after you became friends

Jongho helped take the picture at the time

Wooyoung also had a cute lil sticky note on it that was basically his confession

You find it so endearing

When you turn to him he’s smiling really widely but he’s obviously really nervous

You tell him you like him back and his smile somehow manages to widen

He pretty much grabs you and pulls you into a bone crushing hug

He’s honestly a child at heart and he’s so cute

You spend the rest of the night teasing the other members with him and pranking them

The other members found it cute at first

Now they hate it

Bcs somehow you just managed to make his pranking more intense

Jongho

Doesn’t know how to deal with his emotions

Gets really quiet around you because he doesn’t want to say something that could embarrass him

You feel like he doesn’t like you as a person in general from how quiet he is

Either way, you needed his help to carry some stuff from your car into the dorm

“Jong, could you help me carry some stuff?”

His heart flutters at the thought of you asking him first

So he helps you

It’s still silent because he really doesn’t want to make a fool out of himself

You’re kinda scared because you knew he was really strong and you didn’t want torture the others with carrying the bags filled with various christmas decorations

All of you decorate the living room together

Jongho’s kinda sad that you don’t stick by his side

He wonders whether you don’t like him either and starts feeling discouraged because he was supposed to play you a song he wrote

He had Hongjoong help him

Hongjoong finds Jongho really cute and he couldn’t say no

He has to reassure Jongho that you do like him because you’ve told Hongjoong before

“I don’t think they hate you”

“They don’t talk to me much T-T”

“Just try it”

Jongho still doesn’t know how to feel

Brings out his guitar and starts feeling real nervous

You watch him intently

When he’s done, you’re both blushing like crazy

Pulls you away from the others to talk to you about it

“You were so quiet I thought you didn’t like me,,,”

Now he feels bad for being so quiet

He explains that he just felt really nervous around you

You find that adorable

He cuddles you for the rest of the night

He’s so strong he legit doesn’t let you go and you can’t escape

229 notes · View notes

alloftheimaginesblog · 4 years ago

Text

You’re Safe Now (Bellamy Blake x Reader)

Plot: Bellamy ventures into Mount Weather to save his friends and the girl he loves.

Character: Bellamy Blake x Female!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of blood, torture, violence. Takes place Season 2 episode 11 and onwards though changes events to suit (I’m re-watching The 100 bc I stopped at Season 4 the first time I watched it so I’m in a Bellamy mood!)

When Bellamy goes into Mount Weather, nothing could’ve prepared him for the horrors that lay ahead. Lincoln could only prepare him for the start of the journey but not the cages, not the blood transfusions, not the bone marrow torture; not any of it.

Thank god that Maya was on their side. He wouldn’t have escaped his cage without her help. He searches the cages before he leaves, it’s just Grounders in them. Bellamy demands Maya to list the names of those who are here that are his friends. He cuts her short when she says your name fifth.

“I don’t know where they keep your friends,” Maya says quietly, “I’ve checked all of these cages, over and over. They’re keeping them somewhere else.”

“Why?” Bellamy’s tone is angrier than he intended, “Where is (y/n)?”

“We haven’t seen her in four days,” Maya tells him, “Monty and Harper are missing too.” Anger surges through him burning red hot in his veins. He clenches his fists and breathes hard as he glares at the cages surrounding him. He just needs you to be okay. He needs to save you. He cannot lose you.

“Why have they separated us from the Grounders?” He asks through clenched teeth.

“There was a breach and I got caught in it, they did it on purpose because they knew that Jasper would volunteer his blood to save me. The blood of your people, the Sky People, works ten times better than that of the Grounders. They figured out that bone marrow from you allows us to walk on the ground.”

It’s a harsh realisation that hits him in the stomach causing him to take a sharp intake of breath, “They’re experimenting on us,” Bellamy realises, voice nothing more than a whisper, “They’re killing us to save themselves.” He turns to Maya who looks terrified, “We have to hurry.”

His footsteps are heavy as they go through the corridors. Maya’s a nervous wreck beside him and he knows it but he doesn’t care. He needs to find his friends, he needs to find you. Maya tells him in a hushed whisper all that she knows about the transfusions and about his friends and tells him that they need Grounder blood but more importantly Sky People blood in order to live on the ground. Bellamy was going to kill them. He was going to kill every single one of them who hurt you. He almost can’t think straight, the anger is almost too much for him to cope with.

Maya grabs his arm, she notices that he’s almost tipping himself over the edge, “We’ll get your friends out of here.” She looks sad, he notices as he allows himself to breathe deeply and calm down. She’s worried about her fate, he realises. She’s helping them escape but she can’t come with them... what will happen to her? He pushes that out of his mind, not wanting to think about it before nodding and carrying on. She glances at him out of the corner of his eye hoping that he knows what he’s doing to pull this off.

The light burns your eyes as they flash the torch on your face, “This one will have to do,” the doctor, Doctor Tsing, says.

“Looks weak,” Cage Wallace, the new President of Mount Weather, comments.

“She’ll have to do for now, your father released the others but soon we’ll have the rest of the 47 to choose from.”

“She’ll die?” Cage studies your face as you glare at him, Tsing nods and Cage shrugs, “So be it.”

Rough hands of the guards drag you out of the cage, pulling you legs first. You’re almost too weak to fight back but you try. It’s a weak attempt, one that fails very easily, as you try and kick at the guards. Your foot collides with the chin of one but the other grabs your ankles and shoves you to the ground. Your body hits the cold floor as the guards grab you and force you upwards.

Cage’s lips twist into a cruel smile as you’re brought to your feet, “I’m surprised you’ve got any fight left in you.” Your weakness didn’t stop you from being angry. They were hurting your friends, they were going to kill them after they killed you.

“Go to hell.” Your voice is a hoarse croak.

Cage grins, “Oh no, we’re going someplace better... We’re going to the ground.” He nods to the guards and they shove you forwards, towards the patient bed in the centre of the room.

You struggle feebly but the guards are too strong. They force you to lie on the bed and they strap you in, strapping you in so tightly that it even hurts to breathe. Cage and Tsing talk in the corner, you can hear them but you don’t listen. You try to control your breathing as you stare up at the concrete ceiling. Death looms over you and you know it as you clench your jaw and your fists. There’s nothing to be done now, you’re trapped and you’ll be dead in a few minutes. They knew it too, they’d taken too much from you in such a short space of time, you’d die within minutes of the procedure. They were taking your bone marrow, apparently it allowed them to walk on the ground without taking damage for the radiation. You’d tried to tell them before how the ground wasn’t that special but that was a lie. How you yearned to touch the grass, feel cool water on your skin, feel the breeze through your hair one last time... how you yearned to feel his touch one last time.

You hear the drill as they test it out and squeeze your eyes shut. Forcing yourself to drone it all out, you begin to think of your friends. You were hoping that by now they’d managed to come up with a plan to escape, even if it meant leaving you. You think of Jasper and Monty and Miller and Harper... and it isn’t long before Bellamy Blake comes into your head.

Oh, Bellamy.

Tears want to desperately fall from your eyes, burning and nipping, but you keep them shut and force yourself to stop. You wish that you could see him one last time, tell him how you truly feel. You’ve imagined that moment over and over again in your head over the last few weeks. He already knows, you know that, but he needs to hear it. You need him to hear it. The last two months, you’d spent the majority of them curled up with him, making love under the stars, talking quietly in the dark, sharing secrets you’d never told anyone... You’d spent the last two months falling in love with him so hard.

The sound of the drill began to get closer to you. This was it. You open your eyes, letting the tears fall, as you stare at the ceiling imagining space. You try so hard to picture the view from the windows, the glow of the stars, the colours...

“May we meet again,” you whisper before the drill makes contact with your skin and you begin to scream.

It’s a bloodcurdling, horrid scream that he hears and he immediately knows that it’s you. The vents are tight but he can make it but he has to move fast. Bellamy’s heart is racing, hearing your screams and the voices grow louder. He feels sick as he hears them torture you, he wants to kill them for harming you; he wants to kill them all.

“Her pulse is getting weaker, she’s dying.”

Bellamy Blake is scared as he wills himself to move faster. He sees the grate of the vent up ahead, he’s so close. Your screams fade to nothing and he clenches his jaw. Only a few more feet. He sees you through the grate and bile rises in his throat. He can’t. He can’t look at you. He refuses to look at you because he’d really lose it then.

“We’re losing her.”

“Like hell you are,” Bellamy grunts as he blasts the grate open and throws himself out into the room. The element of surprise allows him to shoot the two guards with quick ease but his gun jams when he goes to blast Cage’s head off.

They begin to fight as Tsing keeps working to extract the last of your bone marrow. Your head lulls to the side, eyes struggling to stay open as you sway on the edge of unconsciousness. You can’t figure out what’s happening as all you can focus on is trying to fight to stay awake. There’s no pain anymore, in fact, you feel numb all over. It’s cold... it’s death, you realise.

Bellamy manages to slam the butt of his gun into the side of Cage’s head, knocking him to the floor. He wasn’t dead but for now, unconscious was good enough. He had to be fast. He moves to Tsing next, unable to look at you, as she takes the syringe out of your hip.

“Let her go,” Bellamy warns her, secretly reaching his arm behind his back to find the knife in the waistband of his pants.

“I take it this one’s special to you,” she smiles sadistically, “It had to be done.”

She turns away from Bellamy, reaching for the gun on the table but Bellamy’s faster. He’s already plunged the knife into her shoulder before she can grab it. Your vision’s clouding over, unable to do anything or see anything. Bellamy needs to get you out now.

Tsing yells out, grabbing the gun and aiming for him but Bellamy has the upper hand. She’s wounded which makes her sloppy so he easily overpowers her and takes the gun before shooting. The gunshot makes your ears ring, making you gasp a deep breath of air. It pulls you back to consciousness for a couple of seconds as Bellamy pockets the gun and the knife once more before rushing to you.

You barely feel his hands as he presses down on your hip to stop the bleeding, covering it with something and he checks you over. His face comes into your line of vision as he pulls you up, drapes something around you to hide your body from others, and lifts you up. He looks down at you, talking but you’re slipping away from him. It’s almost like you’re underwater, you know he’s talking but you can’t tell what the words are.

As darkness seeps into you vision, you manage to catch a glimpse of his eyes and whisper a tiny, “Bellamy...” before falling deep into the darkness.

The sounds of muffled voices talking, no wait, shouting is what woke you up. Your eyes fluttered open groggily as you tried to move but the pain was too much. Every part of your body ached, it felt like you’d been trampled on by one hundred horses.

“It’s been thirty eight hours!” You knew that voice. Who was that?

“She’ll come round when she’s ready.” You knew that voice too.

“I just need to know she’s okay.”

“Bellamy-”

Bellamy.

You groan softly, stopping whoever it was from talking, “She’s waking up!”

Someone rushed to you, you knew it was Bellamy from his scent - gunpowder and pine, “Bellamy,” you whisper, opening your eyes. It took a moment before they adjusted and you could see his face clearly, “Bellamy.” You want to so desperately cry and he knows that.

“You’re okay, you’re safe now.” His hands caress your cheeks, “Here,” he whispers, grabbing a cup from the table and helping you drink it, “It’s water, drink.” You drink it all quickly, water had never felt so good. He fills another and you finish it, too.

“Let me check her over,” it’s Abby, you realise. She walks to you, “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit.”

Bellamy chuckles from beside you. He holds your hand as Abby checks you over. She checks your pulse, your heart, your pupils and your pain levels. She explains that you’d lost a lot of blood and a lot of fluids and that it’ll take a few days for you to feel better again, “It was touch and go for a day,” she says, “but we managed to get you stable last night.”

“What- What happened?” You look to Bellamy who glances at Abby, “How long have I been out?”

“Thirty eight hours, your body had a lot of trauma, it needed time to heal and recover... I’ll give you a while to talk,” she says before leaving the tent.

“I’ve been out for over two days?” Bellamy smiles before you look around, realising you’re back at camp, and ask, “We’re safe? I was... They were...” You look down, “They were killing me.”

Bellamy takes your hands, forcing you to look at him, “I got you out, you remember?” You nod slowly, trying to piece together the hazy details, “I got you out. You were so close to dying.” His voice was tight, like he was just barely holding it together, “I managed to get you out of the mountain in time. Abby treated you in camp while I dealt with the mountain.”

“Dealt with?”

Bellamy looks down, “There was no other way. They were going to kill us all.” He tells you what he and Clarke did, how they had to irradiate the mountain, killing every single person who wasn’t Grounder or Sky Person, “It was the only way. We had to kill hundreds of innocent people.”

You swallow, digesting the information, he looks up at you and you give him a small smile, “You’re forgiven.” It’s what he needs. He needs that forgiveness, he needs your forgiveness. He helped slaughter a bunch of innocent people and he’ll carry that guilt forever but you make it a little easier.

Abby comes back a minute later, requesting that Bellamy go help with a situation at the gate. He looks to you and you nod, “I’ll be okay.” He leaves reluctantly.

Abby gets you something to eat and replenishes your water as she helps you sit up, “You’ll start to feel better soon.”

After devouring the soup and crackers, you ask, “Where’s Clarke?” It’s a touchy subject and as soon as you ask it, you want to take it back. Abby clears her throat and looks to her hands.

It’s a minute before she talks again, “She’s- She left. She’s gone.” You want to ask why but it’s a fresh wound so you stop yourself from saying anything else about it. She helps you to lay back down, “I’ll be back in a while to check on you. Do you need anything else?”

“Bellamy,” you say quietly, “I just need Bellamy.”

You didn’t mean to fall asleep and you didn’t realise you’d fallen asleep until you woke up. Bellamy is in the chair next to your bed, reading something. You roll over and he looks at you as a smile grows on his face, “Hey, sleepy head.” Octavia had known weeks before he did, she would constantly tease him about you... how right she was when she said he loved you. He did love you, he does love you.

“How long?”

“Three hours.” He leans forwards, “You must’ve been exhausted.”

“How long have you been sitting there?”

“Three hours.”

You feel your cheeks burning, “You waited that whole time?”

Bellamy smiles at you, “I waited here thirty eight hours for you to wake up, what’s three more?” He helps you to sit up, “I needed to know that you were okay.” He scoots his chair closer to the edge of the bed, you’re only inches apart from.

You reached for him, he caught your hands easily and let you tug him to sit on the bed beside you, “I was so scared,” you tell him quietly, “I thought I was going to die.”

Bellamy could tell that you were close to crying so he gently cradled you to his chest, shushing you and telling you that you were okay. He wasn’t sure of the full extent of your torture there but he knew it was horrible. It angered him that you and so many of his friends went through that and some even died but they’d gotten you out safe. He had saved you.

“Clarke’s gone,” he murmurs, “She couldn’t deal with having to face everyone when they know that we killed all those innocent people. She did it to save us all, I did it save us all. I don’t know where she is; she doesn’t want to be found.”

“How are you?” You ask him, pulling away so that you can look at him but still holding onto him, “How are you coping?” It wasn’t just Clarke’s hand on that lever, Bellamy helped kill them too.

He could never lie to you. He shrugs, “Not slept, I’ve been staying at your side so I’ve not really faced anyone. I’ve been too worried about you to care about what the others think, honestly but... Jasper’s a mess, Monty says that he’s just been drinking non-stop.”

“Maya,” you realise. Bellamy’s head falls, “Jasper will be okay. We all will be.” You hope that’s true.

Silence falls for a minute before you say his name, “Thank you... for saving me.”

Bellamy rolls his eyes, the slightest smile on his face, “Haven’t you realised that I will always look out for you? I will always protect you.” He’s serious, he would do anything to protect you and keep you safe even if it meant getting himself killed, “You don’t realise how badly I need you to be okay.” It’s a confession that shocks you but he keeps going, needing you to hear it; needing you to believe him, “I heard you screaming when they were torturing you and it broke my heart. The whole time I was in there, my priority was you and that’s selfish that I wanted to save you first than all of our friends as well but I need you to always be safe.”

“Bell...”

“I know,” he pulls away, thinking that you’re rejecting him, “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

You grab his wrist, “When I was lying there, waiting to die, do you know what I thought of? I thought of you, Bellamy. I thought of all the things I wanted to say to you if I survived, I thought of all those nights we had together, I thought of your smile, your messy hair in the mornings, the way you moan my name... I thought of what I need to tell you.”

“Tell me what?” His voice shakes. He knows, he knows exactly what you needed to tell him but he he wants to hear you say it; he needs to hear you say it.

“I love you,” you whisper as he edges closer to you, “I am in love with you, Bellamy.”

It’s rare for Bellamy to be so open but with you, it’s always been different. He can’t stop the smile that spreads on his face. He can’t help his racing heart and the butterflies in his stomach. He feels stupid but he’s happy. For the first time in a long time, he’s happy, “I love you.”

He kisses you. It’s not like all those other times when you were rushing to take the others clothes off. It’s soft and delicate and he’s savouring every single second of this new type of intimacy. His hands cup your face as you grab onto his shirt to pull him closer. Bellamy is the one person who sends you into a flurry of emotions; your weakness.

Far too soon, he pulls away. Smiling, you press your forehead against his, closing your eyes and enjoying the happy moment together; it wasn’t often a happy moment came along. You stay like that for a long time, breathing and just enjoying the love before he clears his throat, “You should rest.” He goes to move away, unsure now of what to do.

Once more, you grab him but this time you scoot to the left and open the blanket up for him, “You should rest.”

“I need to be on watch-”

“Bellamy,” you say, “You’ve not slept in days, you’re exhausted. Come to bed.” He relents, kicking off his boots and throwing his jacket into the chair at the side of the bed. He crawls in beside you, the warmth of your body soothing his aching muscles.

He lies on his side, arm draped over your body as he presses his lips to your temple, “Thank you,” he whispers, already feeling sleep take over, “for loving me.” You’re taken aback by it but you slide closer to him, pulling his arm over you tighter.

The light snores signalled that he was already asleep. You smile, closing your eyes, “I love you, Bellamy Blake. You’re safe now.” It’s only minutes later when you fall asleep in his warm embrace.

#one shot #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake #reader insert #the 100 #the 100 one shot #os #prompt #long prompt #written prompt #the hundred #bellamy blake one shot #bellamy blake imagine

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schnitzelbutterfingers · 4 years ago

Text

Ethan’s Proposal at Christmas (HC and Insta Edit) (Ethan Ramsey x f!MC)

Before the proposal...

Ethan is pissed off at himself after he accidentally spoiled his proposal plans to his ex.

He knows how Abby is very good when it comes to listening, especially at Ethan’s words, so he wonders if she knows what’s gonna happen at Christmas.

On the morning of Christmas, he sees Abby next to him, sleeping peacefully, and he automatically smiles, kisses her forehead, and goes to the kitchen to attempt and make her favorite gingerbread pancakes.

Ethan really wants to impress Abby and tries to flip one side of the pancake, but it wasn’t ready to be flipped. So, he unintentionally splatters it around.

Thank God his fire alarm was off at the time, because he can smell the burnt pancakes, and accidentally yelled ‘Damn it’.

That does it. Abby wakes up then and walks to their kitchen to see Ethan covered in batter. She let out a laugh, and Ethan turns around, embarrassed.

Abby loves him for trying, and teaches him how to make regular pancakes. When he makes his first successful pancake, he finally admits that she is a good teacher.

While Abby watches her favorite Chirstmas movie, Polar Express, he runs to their bedroom to see if his engagement ring is still in his shoe. Having relief knowing that it is safe, he tells Abby:

“Get up and get dressed. We’re going on a date.”

Abby is pleasantly surprised, and thanks him by kissing him. This left Ethan blushing for a while.

Ethan takes her to a ski resort in Boston, where they will be staying for three days. After unpacking, they go and ski.

Both Abby and Ethan are professionals at skiing, and they have a fun time except for the part where they both freeze to death.

Next, for lunch, he takes Abby to McDonalds. You heard me: McDonalds. Although they are both rich, he knows that Abby prefers fast food restaurants over expensive restaurants.

When paparazzi sees both of them at the restaurant, they take many pictures and posted them on Instagram, but the two couldn’t even care less.

While eating their burgers, Abby sees a young scrawny boy at the front door outside the restaurant, with ripped clothes and a jacket.

She invites him in and buys him an extra burger, chicken nuggets and fries. Ethan sees this and wonders how lucky he is to have an amazing girlfriend.

Ethan goes to the nearest store and buys him a big jacket for him to wear during this cold time, and they take him to the nearest police station.

Apparently, he is six years old, who was kidnapped two weeks ago. He somehow escaped.

When the boy’s parents hear the news they come quickly and hug him, crying. When they see Ethan and Abby, they hug both of them, thanking them for finding him.

It is an emotional moment for both Ethan and Abby, and they leave the police station, happy in helping someone. The paparazzi somehow followed them and also takes pictures of that, and the social media expressed how the two doctors are very kind in helping others.

Finally, it was evening. The time for Ethan’s proposal. And Ethan was nervous as hell, but he didn’t show it.

Ethan tells Abby about the opera, and they both get ready.

Abby is wearing a long sleeve red bodycon with pantyhose and black heels, and it takes Ethan’s breath away. Ethan wears a black suit with a bowtie, and Abby already wants to rip it off.

They reach the opera house, where Ethan checks one more time to see if the ring is in his pocket. Thankfully, it is.

The opera is beautiful, and the beginning was amazing. As the orchestra played its instruments, Ethan takes Abby’s hands, stands up and dances with her.

They are highly amused by this, but was happy nonetheless.

When Abby stopped dancing and looked back to the stage, Ethan knows now is the perfect time. He bends down on on knee with his ring box open. Inside is a beautiful ring.

When Abby turns around, she sees Ethan on one knee, as he begins his speech:

“Rookie, when I first met you, I knew you were gonna be a colossal pain in my ass, but a good one. After you solved your first case, I knew I made the right choice in picking you for the residency. After our first kiss in Miami, I started to feel things. Very weird things. I tried to push away from you and even went to the Amazon because my feelings for you were too real. But it was fate for us to bond again. It was fate for me to think about all the mistakes I’ve made concerning you while you went through that whole ordeal in the decontamination room. It was fate for me to kiss you publicly. And I’m so damn happy that it was our fate because you make me into things I never thought I would be. With that being said, I want to make you mines for the rest of our lives. Abigail Angel Chacko, will you marry me?”

Abby knows that this was going to happen, but his words still make tears fall from their eyes. With a choked sound, her say, “Yes!”

Ethan gets up and puts the ring on her left ring finger, kissing her passionately after.

When they leave the opera, the paparazzi manages to take a picture of the diamond ring on Abby’s ring finger, and they immediately realize tat Dr. Ethan Ramsey proposed.

Both decided to pose for the paparazzi, who eagerly took pictures.

However, they do not see Abby whispering into Ethan’s ear about the red lingerie she is wearing now under her dress. They do see Ethan’s flushed face, though.

_______________________________________________________________

notes: if you made it this far, thank you!

notes 2: first head canon and instgram edit, okay?? this was a little weird from what i usually do, but hey! there’s no problem in trying! this was held after my latest fic ‘To Someone Special’. many ppl asked me for this bc they really wanted to know how ethan’s proposal was gonna be like. wishing everyone a merry christmas and a happy new year! lmk if you wanna be added or removed from the tags! :)

notes 3: shoutout to @poudredevie for teaching me how to make an instagram edit!

tags: @missmiimiie @aylamwrites @starrystarrytrouble @udishaman @caseyvalentineramsey @queencarb @choicesstan1 @newcolonies @zoehanji @angela8756 @takemyopenheart @rookie-ramsey @ohchoices @ohvamsey @ohramsey @natureblooms24 @drariellevalentine @maurine07 @lucy-268 @drakewalkerfantasy

#pixelberry choices #choices stories you play #open heart #open heart choices #pixelberry #pixelberry open heart #ethan ramsey #playchoices #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey x mc #head canon #hc

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thedumpsterqueen · 4 years ago

Text

Standards of Performance, Chapter 6: Buckshot and Tequila

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

AO3 Link

Finally, I write most of the chapter before the day I’m supposed to post it. This was mostly done on my laptop (which I’m not used to) as we just moved and my PC is barely set up, so forgive anything that looks weird or wonky. As always, I hope you enjoy. I love getting all your kind messages <3 (Also message me if you want to be on the taglist - I suppose I should be better about that!)

Summary: You’re the BAU’s newest intern, desperate to prove yourself amongst an established team of much more experienced profilers. Agent Hotchner, the seemingly infallible team leader, sets strict expectations for your performance. He commands your respect without even trying, but is there something more to your relationship than a simple desire to impress your stony-faced boss?

Chapter: 6, Buckshot and Tequila

Chapter Summary: Events during a new case test your ability to keep your feelings hidden, and a night out takes an unforeseen turn.

Words: 3736

Rating: Explicit, 18+. Warnings on AO3.

Pairings: Hotch x Reader, Hotch x You

Turns out, lying to Hotch was easier than you thought.

It helped that you were lying to yourself too, of course - that you pretended your gaze didn't linger on his form whenever he was in your vicinity, that the swell of pride in your chest when he agreed with something you said was purely professional. There were times, though, that the facade was much harder to maintain. The most recent case had been one of those times.

You had been tracking down an unsub abducting children in a rural Iowa town. Three kids had gone missing in the span of two weeks, and after Garcia matched the victimology and MO with neighboring states, it looked to be close to a dozen in the years before that. The case started off rough enough - locals refused to believe it could be one of their own, police resisted the BAU’s guidance, the usual - but it came to a head when a fourth child went missing during the investigation.

Thankfully, the team figured out the identity of the unsub relatively quickly. Reid did a geographical profile of all the locations where victims were taken and found a public health clinic that had branches in each area. Garcia cross-checked the employee records to find that only one doctor had done travel shifts at each clinic during the time the children were taken, and within minutes, you were rushing to his address.

The SUV carrying Hotch, Rossi, and Prentiss arrived long enough before yours that by the time you pulled up, they were already kicking down the door and entering the home. The first thing you heard after you flung the car door open was the deafening crack of a weapon firing, and despite your lack of training with firearms, it was apparent that it was not an FBI-issue pistol.

You would never describe yourself as fragile - you couldn't be, not in this line of work. But when you registered the implications of that sound, your knees buckled, instantly bringing you down onto the dusty ground outside the farmhouse. The rest of the team sprinted in, guns drawn. You faintly registered Prentiss yelling inside, then more gunshots, but your head was ringing so loudly from the visceral panic that you couldn’t make out anything specific.

When Hotch burst back out onto the porch, you thought you might honestly sob with relief. That is, until you caught the glint of the sun in the slick, dark blood dripping down the sleeve of his suit.

That was when you puked.

Something about the sight of Aaron Hotchner bleeding felt so wrong that even as you struggled to your feet and stepped over the pile of sick you left in the dirt, even as you got closer and saw the rivulets of blood drip down to his fingertips and dot the wooden floors of the porch, you felt like you were in a dream. Your mind couldn’t grasp the sudden shock of his mortality, that he could bleed, that he could die, even, and he very well might, depending on what vessels were hit. You made it up the steps, only managing to call out his name - his first name - your throat still burning from bile. Despite the chaos of the current moment, he still whipped his head around at the sound of that, as if hearing the name Aaron desperately falling from your lips was more attention-grabbing than the rest of the team gathering around him trying to stem the bleeding.

“It looks worse than it is,” said Rossi, peering through the holes in Hotch’s mangled sleeve. “It was just buckshot, and he barely hit you. Nothing a few stitches won’t fix.”

He turned out to be right, thank god, and later that afternoon, Hotch was freshly bandaged and sitting across from you on the return flight to Quantico.

So, yeah, the “lying to yourself” thing wasn’t going so well at that moment. Hotch was absorbed in paperwork while the rest of the team napped - because of course he was; even being shot didn’t sway his apparently relentless refusal to relax - and each time he winced at the movement of his arm, your vice grip around your chest tightened a little more.

He must have sensed you staring, because he looked up, frown softening slightly as he saw the concern on your face.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m fine,” he assured you with a half smile.

Teetering on an emotional precipice, too scared to respond for fear of falling over the edge, you went back to your reading. After a few minutes of listening to him write while not turning a single page in your book, he set his pen down and took a breath.

“You were screaming my name,” he said, quietly, despite you two being the only ones awake.

“What?”

“Earlier,” he clarified, “when we went into the house. I could hear you outside, yelling my name.”

You looked at him, incredulous. “Of course I did. I heard the shotgun go off. Clearly,” you gestured at his arm, “I had a reason to be worried.”

He shook his head and cleared his throat, as if you didn’t understand the question. “Dave and Emily were with me. Any of us could have gotten hit. You only yelled for me.”

Oh.

You shrugged. “You’re the team leader. It’s my instinct to call for you when something goes wrong."

It was a lie, and a bad one at that, but Hotch gave you an unreadable look and let the subject drop.

The rest of the flight was uneventful, and when you finally made it back to your apartment, you had no plans other than to sleep off the stress of the case and the embarrassment of Hotch calling your actions into question. Garcia, however, wasn't about to let that happen.

BAU-tiful People Group Chat

Garcia: *added You to the conversation*

Garcia: Ok, my lovely children, I know you’re all tired, but I miss your faces, so I’ll see u at Whimsy tonight at 9! Notice I didn’t use a question mark bc it is NOT a question!

You knew from overhearing the team talk that Whimsy was a bar downtown they liked to frequent, but you’d never been invited before. Despite your overwhelming exhaustion, the idea of going out with the team, of finally feeling accepted by them, was enough to make you amenable to the concept. It may have seemed insignificant on the surface, but Garcia adding you to their group chat was the biggest welcome gesture you’d received yet.

Morgan: Only if you wear that dress you know I like ;)

You lived for the day they would realize they were actually flirting with each other instead of just pretending to.

Prentiss: Garcia… you’re killing me… but you know I’ll be there.

JJ: Contacting the babysitter as we speak.

Morgan: Fuck yeah!!! Pretty Boy, you in?

Reid: Can’t we ever go somewhere quiet?

As the group chimed in with various iterations of, “Shut up, Reid,” you hesitantly typed out a text to confirm your attendance. You were excited, of course, but nervous to be the new kid at their favorite hangout. After today's events, though, the desire not to be sober won out over nerves.

You: I’ll be there! Thanks for the invite!

Rossi: Hope you kids are ready for me to drink you under the table, as usual.

Morgan: Eyyy, you KNOW we party hard! See y’all tonight.

____________

Turns out, Morgan was not exaggerating. Not even a little bit. By the time you arrived, 15 minutes late, everyone looked to be at least 3 shots deep. Garcia ran over to greet you, squealing, and wrapped you in a suffocating hug.

“I’m so glad you came! What do you drink? Tequila? I’ll grab the next round!”

You laughed and confirmed that tequila sounded great, and as she scurried off to the bar with Morgan on her heels, you had a chance to look around.

The atmosphere of the club surprised you - it was all glass and steel and modernity, packed with people dancing to something with intense bass - not the low-key joint you’d pictured the team wanting to unwind at. But as you watched JJ, Prentiss, and Rossi cheer on Reid as he threw back a shot, doubling over in hysterics as he coughed and sputtered at the taste, you realized that this place was just loud and energetic enough to keep them from thinking about anything other than work. In that way, you definitely saw the appeal.

“I come bearing shots!” Garcia yelled as her and Morgan made it back to the table. “Grab yours… here we go- whoops! Alright, everyone got theirs?”

She turned to you, grinning behind a pair of hot pink spectacles. “Cheers not ONLY to rescuing four kidnapped children alive, but also to our lovely intern and her first Whimsy outing!”

The team erupted in cheers and you smiled back, downing the tequila. You chatted with the group while Garcia ordered more drinks, and then more drinks, and soon you felt a pleasant buzz filling your head.

“Morgan, you better ask me to dance right now before I go find another man to do the job,” Garcia said with a wink in his direction.

Morgan grinned and mock-bowed, holding out a hand for her to take, and led her off to the dancefloor.

“Should we join them?” JJ asked around the table.

“Someone’s gotta make sure they don’t do anything worth getting kicked out for,” Prentiss shot back. You giggled and followed the girls, leaving Rossi and Reid behind at the table in the midst of a heated debate about childhood brain development that you couldn’t even hope to comprehend.

Not long after you started dancing, you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder and turned around, looking up into the stunning green eyes of a man who looked to be about your age. It was hard to really tell what he looked like in the dim lighting, but by the way Prentiss was giving you a thumbs up and mouthing, “Go for it,” from your side, he was good enough for you.

“Do you want to dance?” he asked above the music. You smiled and nodded in confirmation, letting him wrap his arms around your waist and pull you to his hips.

He knew how to move, that was for certain. He ground against your backside lightly, snaking his hands around your stomach. You weren’t used to this kind of thing - dancing with random men at bars, letting them touch you like this - but the combination of the music and the booze and the relief at the last case being over was making you feel more free than you had in recent memory.

You exchanged grins with Morgan, who was dancing a few feet away in a much more R-rated manner with Garcia. The man behind you (whose name you didn’t know, but who cared?) leaned down to kiss your neck and you arched against him in response, reaching up to run your hand through his hair.

Throughout the song, you had rotated back to facing the table where the rest of your team was sitting. You glanced over, saw Reid and Rossi still deep in discussion, along with another man in a black button-up with a very familiar side profile and-

Hotch.

Hotch was here, and as if the powers that be were insistent upon proving to you that the opposite of serendipity existed, at the exact moment you had that realization, he turned and made direct eye contact with you. Drunk, wearing a skintight dress, a random man grinding on your ass, and staring right back at your Unit Chief at the motherfucking Federal Bureau of Investigation.

Your heart dropped to your stomach, and if you had been drunker, you might have hurled tequila all over the dancefloor. Instead, you pulled away from the mystery man behind you, ignoring his shocked, “Wait!” and beelined to the bar.

“Tequila. Shot. Please, I’m sorry, just saw someone I didn’t expect to,” you blurted out to the bartender, swearing you could feel Hotch’s eyes on your back from across the club.

The bartender, probably having seen much worse, nodded in understanding and poured your drink. You gulped it down, wiped your mouth, and leaned on the bar to get your bearings.

It’s not weird. It’s not. It’s a bar, it’s outside of work hours, it’s perfectly fine that you’re buzzed and dancing and having fun. Everyone else is!

Really, it wasn’t that you were worried about your job, or even that he would judge you (he probably would, but that was unavoidable regardless of the setting), it was just that you hadn’t mentally prepared yourself for the possibility that he would come. He was in the group chat - obviously, if he had seen Garcia’s invite - but had never struck you as the social type, the kind of boss that would interact with his team outside of work.

“Did you see that Hotch is here?” Prentiss asked breathlessly, appearing at the bar beside you.

Apparently, you weren’t the only one surprised.

“I did,” you whispered back, despite the thumping music and the rowdy patrons making it logically impossible for your words to reach the table 20 feet away. “Does he usually join you guys?”

“Never,” she said, before thinking and correcting herself, “Not in years, anyways. When Haley… we used to drag him out, but we stopped after a while.”

“Why do you think he came tonight?"

She shrugged. “Who knows? Far be it from me to explain why Hotch does anything.” An idea seemed to pop in her head, and she grinned. “Maybe it’s because of you!”

“M-me?” Your reaction to the suggestion wasn’t nearly as nonchalant as you’d tried for, but Prentiss was too drunk to notice.

“Yeah, gotta help initiate the intern on her first night out, right?” She grinned and clapped you on the shoulder, then turned away to head back to the dancefloor, leaving you alone. You sighed, gathered yourself as much as you could considering the effects of the tequila, and turned around to go greet him.

“Hey, Agent Hotchner. Didn’t expect to see you tonight!”

“Yes, well. Thought I’d show up for a bit; it’s been a while.” He gave you a tight lipped smile then looked back down at his glass of whisky, the awkward energy palpable.

Probably because he just saw you basically dry-humping some random dude.

“Well, I’m glad you came! Feel free to, uh, come dance if you want! Morgan and Garcia are showing us all up,” you said, gesturing to where Morgan and Garcia were in fact drawing the attention of several onlookers.

He chuckled at that. “They’re certainly a sight to behold, aren’t they?”

You nodded in agreement and headed back to the bar, the brief conversation pointing you towards yet another drink. Talking to him was so easy , sometimes, and others it was like pulling teeth to get a human response out of him. Could you blame him, though? Your last one-on-one interaction was you basically inviting yourself over to his apartment with takeout and listening to him spill his guts about his dead wife and kid, and he probably felt uncomfortable with you after that, and then you went right to this case without any chance for things to go back to normal, and then he got shot, and oh my god, you didn’t even ask him how his arm was doing, how fucking rude can you be, dumbass? and-

“Whoops! Shit, I’m sorry!”

You looked at the person you’d just bumped into in the midst of your internal crisis.

“Hey, it’s you!”

The man you’d been dancing with earlier, now much more obviously handsome in the brighter lights of the bar area, grinned in recognition.

“Hey, I thought I’d scared you off there!”

You laughed and shook your head. “No, I’m sorry. Just saw my boss and freaked out a little bit.”

“Oh shit, your boss is here?” he asked. “That’s uncomfortable, damn. I’m sorry.”

“No worries, it’s just… yeah. Anyways. Wanna pick up where we left off?” you asked, more desperate than ever to get Hotch out of your head. If he didn’t want to see you having a wild night, he shouldn’t have come to the club.

He took your hand, looking pleased. “Lead the way.”

It really was so much easier, you thought, to let yourself feel attraction for guys like this. Uncomplicated, willing to take what you give them, no backstory to speak of. They weren’t riddled with tragic history, unattainable in both position and personality, not to mention impossible to even imagine ever returning your feelings. Guys like Cooper (you’d finally learned his name somewhere amid the grinding and groping) were easy and fun and they didn’t keep you up at night agonizing over whether that thing you said at work was impressive enough.

But then again, they didn’t give you the roller-coaster feeling in your stomach that Aaron Hotchner did every time you locked eyes.

And lock eyes you did - an increasingly frequent number of times, actually. It seemed like whenever you turned to face his direction, he was staring you down. He always went back to his conversation with Rossi and Reid, but you noticed that he seemed to get more and more pissed off with every song that played. His frown was deepened, his expression dark, and you could tell even from a distance that his knuckles were white from gripping his glass.

You shrugged it off as Hotch being Hotch - who knew what that man was thinking? And besides, you were trying to forget him, damn it. At least, that was until a particularly raunchy song came on and you were in the middle of getting your ass felt up, when you felt a hand squeeze your shoulder and whip you around, bringing you face-to-face with your boss himself.

“Hey, what’s going on? Is something wrong?” you asked, utterly bewildered as to why he was interrupting you.

He ignored you, instead staring down Cooper, who very quickly decided Hotch wasn’t one to fuck with and walked away.

“Hotch! Is there a case? Should I grab the others?”

He shook his head. “Can you come with me, please?”

Perplexed, you acquiesced (not that you had much of a choice, with the way he was gripping your elbow) and followed him through the crowd, out the back door, and into an alley. He let go of you then, sighing and crossing his arms.

Your mind was wild with questions - did you do something you shouldn’t have? Get too drunk? Everyone was drunk, though, and you weren’t even half as wasted as some of the others. Did Reid or Rossi tell him something bad about you? Were you about to somehow get yourself fired off the clock?

“The boy you were dancing with was bad news,” he said, after an uncomfortably long period of silence.

What the fuck?

“What the fuck?” you repeated, this time out loud, and you knew you shouldn’t be talking to him like this, but you were too caught off guard to conduct yourself more appropriately.

“He was a drug user,” Hotch said, as if that would explain everything.

“A drug user,” you repeated back, no less confused.

“Cocaine,” he continued. “He was high - his pupils were dilated, he was rubbing his nose, and he's been to the bathroom several times.”

“So… you’re going to arrest him? For doing cocaine?” you asked, still baffled as to what he was insinuating.

“What? No,” he said, “I’m trying to warn you not to get involved.”

You had entered some parallel universe, you decided. There was no other explanation for your boss, a man you’d known all of four months, dragging you outside a bar on a Friday night and telling you not to dance with a hot stranger because he was on cocaine.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself before you really did get yourself fired. “Sir, I appreciate the concern, but I don’t think it’s really any of your business.”

His face hardened at that. “It is exactly my business,” he said, eyes boring a hole through your skull, “to watch out for things that may compromise my team.”

“Compromise your team?” you repeated his words again. “I was dancing, not getting engaged to the guy.”

“Should I allow you to dance with a sexual sadist if it’s just dancing?” he pressed, using the stern voice that usually caused any sort of dissent to whither and die right in your throat.

It didn’t work this time, probably because he was acting fucking insane. “Are you seriously comparing a sexual sadist to a guy who does cocaine while he’s out partying?”

“It’s not just while he’s out partying, by the way he conducted himself, he was a chronic-”

“It doesn’t matter!” you said, nearly yelling now. “You had no right! I'm sorry, what are you, my dad?!”

His eyes flashed at that. “If I hadn’t already had to sit through an 8 hour surgery not knowing if Garcia was going to make it out alive because her date shot her, then perhaps I would have no right. But as it stands, I do. Please be more careful with who you associate with, even if it’s just dancing.”

He spat that last part out, more vitriolic than you’d ever seen him, and stalked back inside. You were left outside in the alley, alone, reeling from confusion surrounding the entire interaction and shock at the emotional charge he’d leveled at you.

Reentering the bar, you saw that Hotch’s seat had been vacated and his jacket was gone. You rolled your eyes, and on your way to the bathroom, nearly ran into Cooper again.

“Hey!” he said. “What was that all about? You good?”

You looked up at his face and for the first time, noticed faint traces of white dust around his nose. He looked keyed up, jumpy - his pulse racing and visible on his carotid. You sighed.

“I’m good. Just not in the mood right now, sorry,” and pushed past him into the bathroom.

Hotch was an emotionally stunted asshole with a control complex, but he was also never fucking wrong.

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ggukkiedae · 4 years ago

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I just remembered that Mina & Mark are really good friends.. amidst all these angst can we get like a Yoonmi & Mina interaction like leaving Mark as a third wheel

YES OKAY AKSJD can i just say this scenario works bc yoonmi and mina are like lowkey friends bc, well, she did produce crush for produce 101 and collabed with woozi for downpour, plus somi used to have yoonmi over at the ioi dorms a lot aksjdhf anyway, hope you enjoy 🥰

italicized conversations are spoken in english ✊🏻

Yoonmi played with the frayed ends of her kimono cardigan while waiting for their pre-recording of Airplane Pt.2. She was quietly practicing her vocal runs for the song before deciding that she was thirsty.

“I’m gonna grab a drink,” she called out while walking out the door.

“Get me an energy drink!” Jungkook yelled after her.

She hummed an okay in response and walked towards the vending machine at the end of the hall. There were a few people by it, so she decided to lean against a nearby wall while waiting for the people to lessen.

A familiar figure appeared from behind and knelt down in front of her.

“You have to be way more careful with yourself,” a slightly amused yet slightly worried voice told her while hooking her heels’ straps that she had apparently forgotten to do herself before leaving the waiting room.

“Oppa,” she laughed, “what are you doing here?”

“I literally work here.”

Mark laughed as he stood up and gave her a hug. He sneakily kissed the side of her head when he was sure nobody would see. She smiled up at him. It had been three months since they started dating, and she was still adjusting to it.

“You’re looking dapper today,” she told him.

“You like the green?” he asked her. “I was going for NCT but not neon.”

She giggled at that, which made Mark smile. He asked her about how promotions were going, which set Yoonmi off into a little excited rant about everything going on. Mark listened attentively, giving his usual ecstatic reactions. Honestly, he just lost himself in what she was saying and ended up admiring her once again for her passion.

That is until she looked behind him a grinned even brighter.

“Mina unnie!” Yoonmi rushed past Mark, who was left dumbfounded, and gave the female MC a hug. “It’s been way too long.”

“I’ve heard,” Mina let go of the hug. “Seongwoo oppa told us that you didn’t even get to stay for their whole recording sessions because of how busy you are.”

Yoonmi just shrugged before remembering that Mark was still standing where she was waiting earlier. She looked at him and waved for him to come over.

“Mark, it’s Miya,” Mina smiled excitedly as soon as Mark reached the two girls.

“I know,” he sighed. “We were having a pretty good conversation.”

“Well, now you can have one with Seongwoo oppa, because I haven’t seen Miya in nearly a year.”

With that, the older girl whisked Yoonmi towards the, now without a waiting line, vending machine. Mark could only watch as his classmate dragged his girlfriend away. He stared at their backs for a bit before making his way towards his waiting room. He’d get to talk to her later, anyway.

Once the show was over and Mark had said his goodbye to Yoonmi and the rest of BTS, he found himself under Mina’s watchful gaze while he packed his things.

“What?” he asked her.

Mina looked around the room, the only other person there being Mark’s manager who was on the phone. “You and Miya are dating, aren’t you?”

“What?” Mark jolted, leading to his elbow crashing against the wall next to him. “Jesus, that hurt!”

Mina laughed at her friend before beginning to pack her own stuff. “You’re not as slick as you think. I saw that sneaky kiss.”

“You what?” Mark’s eyes widened as he turned his full attention to her. “Did anyone else see? Oh god, you aren’t going to tell anyone, are you? It’s only been a few months, and we want to keep it on the down low first.”

“Relax,” Mina reassured him. “Everyone else was too busy or stressed to notice, and I’m not telling anyone. I just thought you should know that, if you want to stay on the down low, control your face. You literally looked at her like she’s the brightest star when we were interviewing them.”

“Well, she is.” He smiled to himself, thinking about how much Yoonmi loved the stars and sometimes wished she were one.

“That’s disgusting,” Mina shook her head amusedly. “but congratulations, you two.”

“Does this mean you won’t take her away next time she’s here?”

“Nope! In your dreams, Mark.”

#yoonmi.markmi #yoonmi.lytear #bts 8th member #bts female member #bts female addition #miya #yoonmi #kim yoonmi

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shorkbrian · 4 years ago

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Yoooooooo idk if youve done this before buuuuut im always thorsty for alien!readers :))) but could you do an alien!reader with anyone or all of fdom the bakusquad. Cant get enough from themmmm

Bro I’ve been sitting on this FOREVER cause like??? alien reader is such a broad request. Like - what kind of alien? Idek.

So I’m just gonna say that reader is similar to Mina (except instead of acid, it’s sweet smelling liquid that turns into a vapor after a second - calms people down), and took Mina’s place in class 1-A.

(Warnings - NSFW, noncon, reader is intersex. Intersex peeps have a rough time, and ik a lot of questions are ALWAYS asked and people are so invasive and rude, and I’m so, so sorry. Like bruh it’s just another way of having a body... pls do not make it into something it is not. Poor reader takes the blame for the noncon, lots of self-deprecation bc intersex ppl get told a lot that they're “alien” or that they’re different and that's bad - Which it so totally is not!!! Differences are cool!! Anyways, read at your own discretion y’all)

Now, in their society, everyone is used to quirk manifestations creating... interesting-looking physical features. You have some people sporting wings, others with textured skin, some are even literal animals.

So reader really isn’t that unusual.... except their quirk makes them popular with teachers and students. Stressed for finals? Go to reader. Can’t make your students chill? Ask reader to stop by. Reader’s quirk makes everyone calm, loopy, less angry and vicious.

When they get into UA, everyone’s curious about how it feels, curious about the kid that would’ve probably been better suited in class B or in a support class.

The bakusquad is especially intrigued, because the applications of reader’s quirk could be awesome for a little problem of theirs that screams and yells and destroys things.

So at the beginning of the semester, reader hears a couple knocks at their door, opens it only to have the bakusquad practically fall inside, complete with a very irate Bakugou.

Denki and Sero propose the idea that reader uses their quirk, helps everyone calm down a bit (we all know Sero’s a stoner, he’s here for the feeling lol). Reader makes sure everybody is down with it, even Kirishima and Bakugou, and when the other two boys nod, reader agrees.

The air in the room would instantly turn sickly-sweet as liquid oozed from reader’s skin, quickly evaporating into a vapor. The affect was almost instantaneous - shoulders sagging, muscles relaxing, soft smiles playing against faces.

Usually reader wears a masks so their quirk doesn’t effect them, but here, in the safety of the dorms? it’s not needed. They get just as relaxed and loopy as the group squished into the small room.

But apparently, relaxing isn’t the best idea.

Some people get so relaxed that their inhibitions disappear, similar to alcohol, just without the loss of fine motor control. Denki is one of those people. He sidles up next to reader, runs his hands over their shoulders until he’s pressed against their side. He leans in close, giggles into their ear about how calm he feels right now, how useful their quirk is.

He’s naturally flirty, so it’s not alarming when he starts like, stroking their hair, holding their hand, practically falling into their lap, complimenting them the entire time, shooting off rapid-fire pick-up-lines like it’s his job. Sero, Kirishima, and Bakugou are lazing in the background, watching the blond drape himself over you.

The pick-up lines devolve into lewd questions, Denki asking what your bodycount is, have you ever blown someone, what's your favorite position? This is a safe environment, and your relaxed, so you don’t mind answering.

Even when he asks what you look like “down there”.

It’s a semi-common question. A lot of people wonder if the pink color of your skin extends to your genitals, if your pubes are pink as well. Your body is alien, do you even have genitals? What kind? Are you a boy? Or a girl? It’s easy to laugh and brush off these invasive questions.

But it’s not that big of a deal here, especially since you’re trying to make friends. You answer the question easily - yes, you’re pink down there, even your pubes. When Sero pipes up and pushes for what exactly you have down there, you shrug - It’s not that big of a deal; you have both.

Kirishima asks to see.

That’s a little weird, so you decline, but Denki whines and pouts, says that it isn’t fair you’re being such a cute little tease, they’re just curious! They’ve all seen each other’s dicks already, it’s the same thing! You aren’t convinced, but your quirk keeps everybody calm, doesn’t let the situation escalate.

Except it does.

Bakugou is relaxed, not yelling, not angry, but still demanding. He tells you to get on your back, and you do, entirely submissive in your relaxed state. You squirm and try to stop him (Bro, that’s weird dude - He shouldn’t be trying to strip you) as the blonde moves to take off your pants, but he casually tells Denki and Sero to hold down your arms, so they do.

The atmosphere is still relaxed, calming, casual, but you feel a tiny nudge of unease in your stomach. The ease with which your quirk pushes that down is extraordinary.

Then Bakugou and Kirishima are looking at you, hands smoothing down your stomach, over your dick, stopping to cradle your pussy. Your squirm. Sero wolf-whistles at what he can see from his position holding down your arm, and you can feel Denki starting to harden from where he’s kneeling across your arm, crotch pushed close to your shoulder.

But everything fine, there’s no trouble.

Your sweet-smelling quirk batters down your inhibitions and discomfort again.

It’s not long before Bakugou is jerking you off, grinning up at you, while Kirishima is fingering you open, focused on your lower lips as he runs his fingers through them before plunging them inside of you.

The dual stimulation feels good, but this is weird, and you distantly know that without the calming effects of your quirk, this would be bad, and you’d be screaming and thrashing. But Denki’s moving off of your arm, grabbing your hand and guiding it to rub against him in his pants. Sero’s unbuckling his belt, getting his dick out and cooing at you to open your mouth. You go to shake your head, but he laughs, just gives you a light pat across the face, insists that this isn’t weird, you all have dicks, and none of them are gay, don’t worry.

Somehow, his dick ends up in your mouth, choking you.

This is wrong, this is assault, they shouldn’t be touching you, you don’t want them to.

But there’s four of them, and only one of you.

You can only pump more of your quirk in the air to keep yourself calm, listen to the boys discuss your “alien” body as they touch and fondle and explore, occasionally stopping to ask you how something feels. It feels bad.

Eventually, they end up fucking you, taking turns in your pussy, stroking your dick. Sero even tries docking his dick against yours. It feels weirdly good. Kirishima asks if you’re able to get pregnant while he’s thrusting inside, whoops when you tell him you can’t. He cums inside.

Someone suggests taking your ass too, but Bakugou disregards that idea. He seems like he’s the ringleader. You’re pretty sure you don’t want to be friends with them after this. But is it their fault? You’re the one who lowered their inhibitions, you’re the one who made them curious about your body.

It’s your fault.

so you lay there and take it, let them move you into different positions as they laugh and joke above you.

They get tired of exploring eventually, leave you with cum dripping out of your body, all sticky and sweaty. You’re calm.

You keep your quirk going until you manage to head to the showers, to wash every inch of yourself. You keep your quirk going as you clean up your room, stripping the sheets, washing everything, sanitizing everything. You even move your bed, away from the door and into a corner.

Keeping your quirk active isn’t possible for ever, but you’re going to push it until your body gives out.

Being “different” is never a good thing.

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avversiera-writes · 4 years ago

Text

overstepping, part 1 of 2 - tobirama senju/reader

Summary: In which Tobirama does not know how to express his concerns properly. And it turns to a mess, and then some. Smut ensues.

Author’s Note: it’s the same timeline/au as you never said goodbye and also apparently in this au of mine, Hashirama had stepped down as Hokage due to his gambling addiction and not bc he died…that’s fine with me tho. Available in AO3 as well.

PART TWO

You are absolutely so proud of Tobirama for being the new Hokage. Nothing compares to the feeling of seeing your new husband achieving the position that he deserves–although he could balk and snipe that he does not want it. You do have the feeling that he is a little happy about it, because he is in a position of cementing his brother’s dreams to last more than a lifetime.

However, there are moments when you absolutely loathe your husband’s new powerful position. Because it means that he can do stuff like this. Stuff like, overstepping the command system best left to Jounins like you (although he did have a hand in creating the said system, which adds to your endless chagrin). Not that he couldn’t, but the fact that he actually could, that his word is above all laws can be frustrating to you to no end.

“Excuse me?” You almost snap, but your self-control reminds you that the Hokage is your husband.

You gather yourself and look at Sarutobi Hiruzen pointedly. “Can you please repeat that?” You ask, but it is more of a defense mechanism so that you can have enough time to rear in your temper.

Hiruzen had the nerve–the nerve! As if he and his genius sensei do not agree with each other–to look sheepish. “Lord Nidaime Hokage has re-assigned this mission and has ordered that I take over. He orders that you be relieved of this mission.”

You stare at Hiruzen, speechless. Orders. Oh yeah, because your husband is the Hokage.

“But…this is my mission,” you said, your mind supplying the only reasonable argument you can scramble.

Hiruzen gives you an apologetic look.

You are literally about to take off when he has stopped you with orders from the Hokage to step down and give this mission up.

Dammit, Tobirama, you think. Who do you think you are?

You look at the faces of your students who are freshly Chuunins. They stare back at you, completely clueless and painfully wide-eyed that it makes your heart clench. They are about to head outside Konohagakure, and you won’t even be there to advise them before throwing them to the sharks of the battlefield, where they could get killed. You know that they need you, and that you have spent weeks training them to be ready and to polish their teamwork with you. What would come out of this mission with this sudden arrangement? They are just children, for Kami’s sake.

It is not that you doubt Hiruzen’s ability. Your husband has trained his students to be good shinobis to the bone, but this situation does not sit right with you. You have seen how strong Hiruzen and his team are, and are more than ready to handle leading missions by themselves.

You exhale. “Alright, go, I won’t keep you waiting,” you grit out.

Hiruzen nods and he turns to your young team, and they flee.

You stand over the graves of your students, failure and shame hanging over your shoulders. You have failed them. They were just newly Chuunins. You were supposed to be there for them. One small mistake in the battlefield, such as overlooked traps, had caused their lives. Hiruzen had shown up, still recovering from the third degree burns he had acquired from the mission. He looks on glumly and you let out a slow breath.

You want to blame Hiruzen, but you know better, having been a seasoned Jounin at this point.

Another set of footsteps approach the two of you, and Hiruzen leaves quietly.

“It’s not your fault,” Tobirama tells you in that matter of fact way. As if that would comfort you.

You clench your fist, and your teeth, but your grief gets the better of you. You turned to him and slapped him.

“That’s for pulling me out of my mission,” you spat. You almost feel bad seeing the flash of hurt on his face, but the way he composed his features made you angrier.

You ball your hand into a fist and you aim a punch towards his chest. He staggers back, completely off-guard. “And that’s for getting them killed.”

Tobirama stares at you, his red eyes as cold as ever, or not–they are brimming with unsaid words, though you can’t find it in yourself to remember why you even married this man right now.

“Stop this,” he says quietly.

You think he almost reaches for your arm, but it could have been your imagination.

You shoot him a glare, and then you turn to walk away.

The second time it happened, you were livid . So much so that no ANBU guarding the Hokage can hold you down. You had managed to snag a high-level mission, but you were hoping that you were already away before it could get to the Hokage. Of course, it was naivety on your part that nothing gets past your husband.

It has been months since you have taken up a mission outside the Land of Fire, missions that you are definitely capable of.

Just when you thought you could actually hop back into your shinobi career.

You burst through the doors of the Hokage’s office, rage rolling off of you in waves that no ordinary shinobi can get closer to. Good thing your husband is the Hokage.

“Lord Nidaime,” you grit your teeth. “You did not want to yell in the office, where there are ears listening in. “I am asking you to give me this mission–my mission– back, not as your wife, but as a shinobi of the Hidden Leaf.”

Tobirama gazes at you coolly, which furthers fuel your anger. “No, you cannot go. Have you forgotten what had happened the last time you had a similar mission? It was a simple reconnaissance mission and you failed,” he deadpans.

Taken aback by the way he is addressing you, you step forward. You can feel the hidden ANBU tense, but you pay them no care. If they so much as try to stop you, well, they can spend the rest of the year on a hospital bed.

“I have you know, I would’ve failed that mission all over again, if it meant saving my squad,” you spat. You cross your arms.

He leans back on his chair and does the same. “Please, I do not want to do this right now.”

“Lord Nidaime!” You shout this time.

Instead of going off the rails and shaking your fist at him, you take your thumb and your forefinger to pinch the bridge of your nose. “Tobirama,” you say, softer this time.

“You cannot go,” he says in a much quieter tone.

It is like Tobirama knows no other words, although you know that he has an extensive vernacular of words. However, you also know that he prefers to only write down and use his words, instead of speaking them. Tobirama is concise and sharp, but has a tendency to be scathing when his buttons are being pushed. Much like you do often in your earlier days in your relationship, but you like to think that you are molding him into a softer direction.

You press your lips together. “This is not over.”

Tobirama watches you as you leave, and it is missed by your own eyes how he immediately reaches up to run his hand on the fur that rests on his shoulder, as if it is an object to steel himself into a calmer composure. He is frustrated at himself towards how he is handling this. When it comes to you, the lines between work and personal life seem like a jumbled mess, no matter how much he tries to keep an order. He is usually good at this, but the outrage you feel towards him is out of his depth. He is best at keeping his emotions at bay, but after that mission that almost killed you, he finds that he cannot let you out of his sight.

That night, Tobirama does not come home until past midnight. It was fine with you, since you are alright with spending time by yourself. You are all used to that by now. It is not like Tobirama requires your presence around the clock.

However it was easier to spend time without him when you had missions and you were actually doing your job as a Jounin. Right now, you have done nothing but be a housewife, and it irks you. You used to be Tobirama’s equal in everything, but now, you feel like the two of you aren’t even on the same page.

“Lady…Nidaime Hokage’s wife?” A shinobi calls you as you make your way towards the Hokage’s office.

You start at the new title used to address you and almost cursed. However, you knew self-control. Perhaps, too much.

“You do not have to call me that,” you tell them, a little exasperated.

The shinobi approaches you carefully, their arms stacked with scrolls and other documents. “Lord Nidaime’s office has been closed all day…well, we know he’s in there, but when he gets like this…”

You sigh, understanding the shinobi very well. “Leave those outside the door. I’ll take care of it.”

Tobirama has bouts of manic passion that renders him inaccessible for days. Sometimes, even for weeks. It was worse during Hashirama’s time as Hokage, wherein for days he does not eat nor sleep, and now, it seems like he is doomed to repeat the same routines. You sigh outside the doors to his office. You know it’s locked, but it is not beyond your ability to break in, having been familiar to the way he seals his things. Not that he likes the idea of you knowing that since it invaded his privacy.

In your left hand was a newly prepared lunch, completed with his favorite tea brewed in the proper temperature. You would know that he wouldn’t even dare drink it if it wasn’t up to his taste.

The bastard.

With your free hand, you dispel the seals locking his office and you enter, expecting to see him buried by work and whatever it is he’s working on. However, he is only taking a nap, and you almost smile at the sight. You notice that he has lost a little bit of weight, probably due to days where he forgoes food altogether; as someone who knows better to take care of himself, he does a shit job of it.

For a moment, all is forgotten. Weeks of dispute, you put behind. You are still his wife. These things, you know you can worry about.

You set the lunch carefully on the available space on his desk and cleared some paperwork you deem trivial at the moment and arranged them to his left.

You think about waking him up, but then your gaze lands on the paper in front of him, where he is scrawling a formula messily. You recognize the markings of some kind of summoning jutsu, but the rest is covered up by his arm. Which he is currently resting on.

You pull the paper from under him to get a closer look because the more you study it, the stranger this summoning jutsu looks like, but then he snaps awake.

“What are you doing?” He says in that snippy tone of his.

“What are you doing?” You question back.

He blinks and he looks down on his work. “I was…” He takes the paper and attempts to hide it from you. “Writing.”

You sigh for the nth time that day, and push the boxed lunch towards him. “Eat. And stop scaring your subordinates.”

Tobirama just stares at you, guarded. “Did you see what was on the paper?”

You roll your eyes. “No, I didn’t. Why? Is it illegal?” You raise an eyebrow.

Tobirama looks down, his lips pressed into an unimpressed line. “I’m working.”

“I can see that,” you fight the urge to roll your eyes, and you push the lunch forward. “Eat.”

Tobirama looks like he is about to say another retort, when he looks at his now semi-cleared desk. “Where are the documents on my desk?”

“I put them on a pile to your left.”

“Why? I was working on them.” Tobirama sounds offended. “They aren’t done.”

“I know that, but you can easily find it to your left.” You gesture to its direction. “They’re just stacked.”

“But I had it like that for a reason.”

“Tobi…,” you start. You hate to see him like this, and you know you caught him in one of his worst moods. It is not easy when he gets like this.

Well, nothing is ever easy with Tobirama.

“Get out,” Tobirama snaps, sounding overwhelmed. “I am working.”

Tobirama does not even make eye contact, and that is how you know that you will not be able to budge him. Not when he is busy working on whatever it is he’s hiding or just when you apparently disturbed his chaotic system of processing documents.

“Eat,” you tell him again, but it probably went over his head.

PART 2

buy me a coffee !

#tobirama x reader #tobirama senju #tobirama x you #naruto #naruto x reader #angelica writes #n/s/f/w #this is for you tobirama hoes #can you tell i have a choking kink #tobirama is secretly working on edo tensei #clearly idk anything about jutsus #tobirama just sucks at communicating #senju tobirama #'til death do us part

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ladybugsfanfics · 4 years ago

Text

The Case of the Blue Sweater | Tom Hiddleston

Pairing: Mob!Tom Hiddleston x cop!reader

Style: one shot

WC: 10.7k

Warnings: crime, alcohol, drinking, implied sexual content (very much so), uhh, theres no blood, also NB: THIS STORY IS INCOMPLETE AND I WONT BE THE ONE TO FINISH IT! (story is also unedited to please dont hate me for any mistakes)

Summary: Hey so I read your Mob!Tom x reader and it got me thinking.. Could you write a Fic where Tom is in the mob but the reader is a cop? And like they’re secretly dating but technically the reader has to make it look like they’re hunting him down but they really aren’t? (If that makes sense) Idk I feel like I just need this in my life rn 😂😂

A/N: i got this ask back in january i think and i jumped on it right away, but at some point tumblr deleted it so i cant tag who asked (and i know this wasnt anonymous bc i remember but i never put it in the doc annoyingly). anyways, i started writing it, got to 10k words and lost motivation and never finished it. i really like the AU but nothing ever really happened.... im so sorry. I hope you enjoy what i have ^_^

A loud ringing paired with the loudest on and off buzzing from your phone vibrating on the nightstand is what pulls you out of your slumber. The sounds screech in your ears and you reach over to stop it, to just slide the button over so that your ears can stop bleeding. However, as you lean out of the arms wrapped around you, their grip strengthens and you’re dragged back into the chest of the man sharing your bed.

“Tom,” you say. A smile plays on your lips, the set of events not unusual for an early morning.

He nuzzles into your hair, places a wet kiss at the base of your neck. “Five minutes,” he mumbles into your skin.

You shake your head slightly, as much as you can with the limited space. “Can I at least turn the sound off?”

His grip slackens, making you able to reach the little way over to turn off the blaring alarm. The silence that comes with is welcome in every way, but the relief isn’t long-lasting when Tom drags you back into his chest, his nose quickly nuzzling back to where it was.

Two seconds is what it takes before he’s pressing kisses to your neck. Rough, slender fingers graze up the side of your body until they reach your neck, where they brush away your hair. With Tom’s easy access, the soft kisses slowly turn into something more, something rougher, and the use of his tongue causes a slight tickle to trail through your body.

“Tom.” You shift a little where you lay, taking away his access as you turn your head. In the shift, the man easily moves to trail kisses up your jaw, and as you whisper his name again, his lips connect with yours.

It’s a hungry kiss. He sucks at your bottom lip and his hand grabs your jaw, holding your head in place. You lean into him, kissing him back with equal fervor, however, you’re quickly dragged out of the bliss, when your phone goes off again.

There is no mistaking the death glare Tom sends the mini-computer. You chuckle slightly and push him off you to reach it. This time, it’s not an alarm, but a phone call.

Your boss’s call ID lights up the screen, and you give Tom a stern look as you press to accept the call. With the phone to your ear, Tom shrugs and moves under the covers. His hands trail down your body, teasing you as his fingers trace up your inner thighs.

“Y/L/N,” you say.

A grunt is heard from the other side first, then, “I need you to come in ASAP.” Your boss’s voice sounds urgent, desperate.

You check the clock. “I’m not supposed to come in in another hour,” you reply. “Is it that important?”

“Yeah, wouldn’t have called you otherwise.” It’s like you can hear him nod and roll his eyes at the same time. “We got a lead in the case.”

“What kind of lead? And which case?”

As your boss answers, you can feel Tom’s tongue on the inside of your thigh. In surprise at the feeling you barely manage to suppress the squeal that works up in your throat, and you miss your boss’s reply. (You don’t miss Tom’s smug laugh from under the duvet, nor how he continues to work his way closer to your clit.)

“Y/L/N?” comes from the other end of the line when you gain back… well, really some of your dignity, but mostly your mind.

“I’m here, sir.” You sigh. “Just something that happened that caught my attention. Cat nearly knocked down something made of glass.”

(You don’t have a cat, why was that the first excuse you could come up with? Your boss doesn’t know that, though, so it’s safe.)

“Didn’t know you had a cat, but that could happen to the best of us.” Your boss clears his throat. “The lead’s pretty good, but can’t say it over the phone so you gotta come in. It’s on the case about the Blue Sweater.”

You roll your eyes at the nickname of the case. One of the major criminals you were trying to take down is often seen wearing blue sweaters, and at a briefing you’d offered it as a code name; who knows who listens in on phone calls―they do seem to have a knack for being one step ahead of you, too.

But you don’t mention that to your boss. “Alright, sir, I’ll be on my way as fast as I can.”

“Make it less than half an hour and we’re good.”

“No problem, sir.”

Your boss is the one to hang up, and as you throw your phone down on the bed, Tom peeks his head up from under the covers. You send him a glare. “You should be happy you didn’t get started whilst I was on the phone.”

Your boyfriend smirks up at you. “Oh, you wouldn’t have liked that?”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t like it.”

Tom shrugs. “You got time, right?” Though before you can answer he slides back under the cover, uses his hands to steady your hips and dips his head low. God, if only you had more time.

The moment the elevator door opens and you step out into the crowded office space of the police station, you hear your name being called. You wish you weren’t the head detective on the, currently, biggest case pertaining to crime bosses. Just once you wish you could come to work and not have at least five people at a time want to ask you a question or pepper you with information you already have.

You kind of wish you weren’t the head detective for another reason, too, but that’s a minor detail. Actually, that might be the reason you need to be the head detective; way easier to steer an investigation when you’re leading it.

Nonetheless, you have no choice in which cases you lead or not. And that’s usually the reason why there’s three people cluttering your desk as you sit down. You’re not entirely sure that’s the reason today.

You plop down in your chair and stare up at the talking men in front of you. The three of them notice you quickly (after all, it was them that yelled your name) and the chatter dies out.

“I’m here half an hour early and I would love to know what made me skip my morning shower.” (It would have been morning shower sex, and you are a little very annoyed that you had to skip it.)

Your boss coughs, gaining your attention. “Briefing room. Five minutes.” The man looks slightly uncomfortable, but that’s not a big surprise. You’ve been told many times that you have that kind of face that makes people squirm; just something about you is, apparently, intimidating.

“Okay.”

And he walks away.

“You two doing at my desk then?” you ask your coworkers. The two men are your right and left hand in most cases, but this one especially. You wouldn’t even be half the way you are now if you didn’t have them. (Though how much that says, you’re not sure, because you really have nothing.)

“Well…,” starts Mackie. His hand goes up to scratch his neck. “...really we just naturally gravitate here.”

You squint at him, and divert your gaze to Evans (who you know is a shitty liar). Even though you’re not opening your mouth to say anything and he isn’t looking at you, you can see the big man trying to make himself smaller.

“We were gonna try and see if you’d left a hint to who you’re sleeping with,” he says, and despite the way he doesn’t meet your gaze, he says it so casually you’re actually taken aback.

“Excuse me?” You let out a huff, and shake your head. “My sex life is my sex life. You two” ―you point at both of them― “have no business with it.” You stand up from your chair and shake your head yet again. “And if you really think I’d leave evidence lying around, I gotta figure out how to let you know that’s not something I’d do.”

(And if you had, well, your career would for sure be over. If not worse.)

But with that out of the way, you make your way to the briefing room. Captain Cheadle, your boss, stands at the head of the table. In his hand, he holds a wireless presenter, and a few papers are scattered on the table in front of him. You take your place at the table, and as you do, your phone buzzes to signal a new message.

The captain gives you a shrug and that’s all the permission you need to fish your phone from your pocket and check the text.

[08.38] twh darling, you left something at your flat

[08.38] you you talking about yourself? that doesnt count

[08.39] twh that too but no, you left your keys

[08.39] you you doing anything today??

[08.39] twh you know i am, but i can get them to you

[08.40] you gtg but yes please or there are other solutions…

You let out a slight groan knowing you’ll have to figure out how to get your keys without actually meeting Tom. You can’t meet in public, and there are few places where you can meet without being discovered; there’s a reason you’re always at your apartment and never at his house. (well, you’ve been there once, but that was with work and it doesn’t count.)

Whatever his reply is to the latest text you sent, you don’t get to read (though you do feel the vibration on your thigh). Captain Cheadle has called for your attention, Mackie and Evans having seated themselves in the room as well, and you can’t do anything but pay attention to your boss.

“The tip we got is an inside tip.” The captain steps aside to let the projector show a photo of the biggest crime boss currently in New York City, Tom Hiddleston. As with every other photo he’s in, he’s wearing a fucking blue sweater. “The source is reliable, as we know of their work with Hiddleston, but we’re not sure if the tip is.”

He clicks to another photo, which is of the same man getting into a car. Only, he’s getting into the driver’s seat, something that is unusual for someone that has his own driver. “We can’t know if the tip is true or not, but we’re guessing there’s some truth to it.”

You roll your eyes slightly (not enough for the captain to notice). “Can you tell us what it is yet?”

Captain Cheadle nods. “There’s been a mystery woman in his life. None of his men know, but based on a lift in spirits and an increase in nights gone from his own house, they believe he has to be seeing someone. Rumor amidst his men, according to our tip, is that it's been going on for a few months.”

A knot tightens in your gut. A few months is a little less than correct, but yeah… It’s been six months since you started dating Tom Hiddleston. Off work, on a weekend, you met him in a bar, you got drunk and your mind didn’t work in any other way than tell you how hot he was and how good he made you feel. There was little persuasion needed for Tom to get you in a bed, naked, and screaming out his name. And so far, he’s managed to do it most nights since.

(The case had been assigned to you a month after your first encounter. You’d known his name well before you met him, but that hadn’t stopped you. And, even as his girlfriend, you had no evidence on him whatsoever.)

Yet, after six months of no one knowing anything, you’d been fairly certain you’d get away with it. At least until either one of you got enough of pretending. Tom has enough money for you to quit your job should it come to it, the only problem being that you don’t want to because you love your job.

“Did your source say anything about who the woman could be? Where to find her?” asks Evans.

You wait patiently for the reply. Your gut stirs with the thought that they’d know, that just your face (usually a poker-face no one could read no matter how much you panicked on the inside) would reveal you. But you aren’t revealing anything but being deep in thought, as you can feel Mackie’s eyes on you as your own flicker across the room and a frown has pronounced itself on your face.

“The tip was slight, but the source believes that there might be something to check at a bar. It’s one Hiddleston frequents, High Rise.”

Oh, if only the name didn’t chime with recognition at the back of your mind. There isn’t much to do but accept your fate and follow up on the lead, only try your best to avoid being recognized as the girl who left with Tom Hiddleston half a year ago. That could be rather easy, seeing as the bar was dark and you’d been wearing more make-up than usual and the dress you wore hadn’t stood out in any way, and it being six months ago.

You nod at captain Cheadle. “Anything else we should know?”

He nods slightly. “There came one more thing with the tip, but this wasn’t a written message.” He roams around his papers for something and eventually fishes out an evidence bag. Inside is an envelope and something small you can’t see from far away. He slides it across the table to you.

Your heart skips a beat at the sight of what lies in the bag. The envelope easily recognizable as one you’d written yourself (though you’d used a typewriter―fancy―so there isn’t any handwriting to check), and the content a barely visible silver and gold wristband inscribed with a phrase Tom has whispered time and time again in your ear (the most intimate you’ve been outside of sex); my safe spot is with you in my arms.

Your fingers graze over it as you look at the inscription. “That’s pretty intimate,” you say, and an agreed murmur comes from your captain.

“You traced it?” asks Mackie.

“Untraceable. Paid in cash, no receipt, and might even have been done illegally.”

At least you know that that’s not true, and if they’d tried just a little bit harder, it wouldn’t be that hard.

“Fingerprints?” you ask, though not sure exactly where it comes from. (Or, well, it comes from the fact that you’ve touched the wristband on several occasions and that, unless wiped, there should be fingerprints all over it.)

You look up from the evidence bag to see captain Cheadle shake his head. “A few around the clasp, but none enough to make a full print, and any other we could find are only Hiddleston’s. The envelope’s the same”

“The question is whether Hiddleston sent it to someone or if someone sent it to him.” Evans motions for you to slide the evidence over to him, and you do.

“He’s the biggest crime lord in New York, he’s gotta be real smitten if he’d make that to send to someone.” Mackie shrugs, not sold on the idea that Tom Hiddleston, crime boss extreme, could be sappy enough to send it apparently.

Well, if only you knew what Tom would do for the one he loves, if only you knew.

“Well,” you say and clap your hands together, “seems we have more to do today than reports.”

A slight chuckle comes from the three men in the room with you.

“I want you, Mackie, with me on a trip down to High Rise. Captain, is it possible to talk to our source other than written communication?”

A nod.

“Then I want you, Evans, to have a little chat with Hiddleston’s ex-buddy. Let’s see if he doesn’t have more information, and if you can’t get much, try a little harder on the wristband. There’s gotta be something to look for there, maybe mention it to our source?”

“On it.” Evans gives you a thumbs up, grabs the evidence and walks out the door. You and Mackie move to do the same, and on your way there, you fish your phone out from your pocket.

[08.41] twh i’ll have to get back to you on that, but you can probably count me in have a good day, darling

[09.27] you sounds great but, on some not so good news, you got a snitch amidst you and i have smth that belongs to you in evidence

You don’t wait for a reply, certain he’s busy and also because Mackie is a nosy asshole and you’re not gonna get caught on a text message.

“You know where High Rise is?” asks Mackie as you make your way to your desk.

“GPS exists, but I have a hunch,” you say as you grab your jacket. Unfortunately, that hunch is more a hunch that your relationship is getting threatened by your work.

(“A hunch. Yeah, right, you’ve probably been there.”

“Careful what you say there, kiddo.”

“I’m older than you!”

“And yet, I’m driving.”)

[09.53] twh name? and what might that be?

[11.16] you i didnt get one but one of my guys is questioning him smth i bought you

[11.17] twh ill figure it out, and that has to be my wristband. how?

[11.17] you you tell me

Mackie nudges your arm with his elbow as you make it inside the bar. It’s mostly deserted, highly unlike the life that was there the last time you set foot in the place. A man sits in the booth in the back sipping what looks like whiskey based on the glass and the brown liquid inside. By the entrance, a woman and a man sit across each other at a table. Each of them have a beer, though only the man looks to have touched his, and the woman doesn’t look too happy with him.

However, you turn your attention to the bar, and the bartender behind the counter. Fortunately, he’s not the same one that was here when you were. Making your way over, you note the exits (the one you came in through, a backdoor in the kitchen, and―one you noted the first time you were there―the window in the ladies’ room). You also note the man sitting at the edge of the bar counter, back hunched over and an old fashioned placed in front of him. Untouched.

“How can I help you?” asks the man behind the counter. A bushy beard covers his chin, ruffled brown hair the top of his head, and tattoos cover his upper arm, visible where his t-shirt sleeve ends. In his hands he holds a cleaning towel and a glass, but as you sit down, he slings the towel over his shoulder and puts the glass down. “Guessing beer for you, sir, and maybe a scotch on the rocks for the lady?”

You shake your head, and roll your eyes at Mackie’s almost nod. You’re at work, you’re not gonna drink. “Sorry, mister, but we’re here on other business.” You pull out your badge and give him a peek.

The bartender’s eyes go wide. “Sorry, ma’am, didn’t know. You could've fooled me.” He holds out a hand. “I’m Tom Hardy, co-owner of this shithole.”

“Shithole?” Mackie eyes the man.

“Can’t say there’s a lot of good going on in here, really. Nothin’ illegal, though.” Hardy winks at Mackie and you roll your eyes. The last thing you care about is the tiny illegal things going on at the bar. “What can I help you with? There’s not been any complaints, right?”

Mackie shakes his head. “Relax, man, it’s got nothing to do with you. We’re looking for information on a man, also named Tom, but with a different last name. Hiddleston, heard of him?”

The scoff Tom Hardy comes with is barely audible, but you catch it and cock your head to the side.

“Who hasn’t heard of Tom Hiddleston? Supposedly a big mafia boss, but the police has got nothing on him.”

“We got word he frequents this bar. That true?”

Hardy nods. “He’s by at least once a week, sometimes more.”

You try to drown the ache that falls over your heart knowing he still comes by. “You know what he’s here for?”

The bartender shrugs. “Don’t get into that shit, but I know he has a deal with my co-owner, Luke Evans.”

Mackie pulls out a pad and a pen and writes down the name. “Hiddleston ever leave here with a girl in the last few months?”

Hardy shakes his head. “Nah, leaves with the same men, though he has gotten different. Before he used to indulge a little more with the women, but now he seems to not want to. They want him, though.”

The ache fades a little at that. He’s loyal, he’s trustworthy, he’s yours. “Did he use to leave with girls before?” you ask.

“Dunno. He’s usually here when Luke works, only some shifts we got together.” Hardy shrugs. “Though the times I have been here, he’s never left with a girl. He’s followed some into the bathroom, but never left with one. Gotta be some special girl for him to leave with her.”

You suppress the smile that tugs at your lips. “Thank you, mister Hardy. Could you get us in touch with your co-owner? We wanna have a little chat with him, too.”

“He works tonight. Sorry, can’t give you anymore.” The man picks up a glass again. “But if we’re done here, you’re gonna have me excused. I have a job to do.”

“Thanks for the cooperation,” says Mackie and pushes away from the counter. “We might come back for more.”

You say a small goodbye as you follow after your coworker. On the way to the door, your eyes stray to the man in the back of the bar. Something about him seems off, and even more so when he holds up his glass and tips it your way with a slight hint of a ‘cheers’. The creepy smirk that places itself on his face sparks no comfort, and you let out a sigh as you walk through the door Mackie holds open for you.

“Something wrong?” he asks.

“Got a weird feeling from one of the dudes in the bar. Might be nothing, might be something.” You shake your head, slowly, as your thoughts whirr around in your head. “Doesn’t matter. If he’s here tonight, I might check into it, but it’s probably nothing.”

Mackie shrugs. “We didn’t really get that much here either, though. Hope Evans got better luck.”

“Yeah, gotta hope. But I have a feeling our source might’ve changed his mind on talking.” You open the car door and get in, Mackie following your lead. “I have a feeling Evans might not have been very lucky.”

“You thinkin’ we might end up with… homicide?”

You shrug. “Can’t be sure, but wouldn’t be surprising. Don’t believe we’re gonna be able to connect it to Hiddelston, though.” You start the engine and pull out on the road. “Don’t believe we’re gonna have any connection other than the guy’s snitching.”

“Good enough to talk to him.”

“Good enough to blow what we have if we do.”

The police station became a place of chaos in a matter of seconds. One moment, you’re talking to Evans on what he could find (the source had disappeared without a trace), and the next, it’s like the station is on fire.

Evans, Mackie and yourself are out of the loop. You lean against your desk, your coworkers leaning against the neighboring ones, and look at the chaos erupted around you. People run from one place to another, screaming for help or otherwise.

Then silence consumes the crowd as someone turns up the sound of the TV in the background. You turn to see the screen. On it, there’s a picture of a fire and countless dead bodies, burnt crisps until there is nothing recognizable left to see.

“In just a few minutes the house, that belongs to the infamous crime boss Tom Hiddleston, went up in flames. Whether the man himself was in the house or not, we do not know. Police have yet to arrive at the scene, and the firemen are doing their best to put out the blazing fire. So far, we have no witnesses and no way of knowing what caused it. We’ll be back soon with more updates.”

You lock eyes with Evans and Mackie.

“Our source was in that fire, wasn’t he?” Mackie makes a grimace, and then shakes his head and throws his hands up in the air. “You called it. You fucking called it.”

“I didn’t want to call it.” You shake your head. “And we’re not the force to go out there either, so we’re gonna need someone to talk to Hiddleston about this, about his source, without it being suspicious.”

Evans gets up from his place. “I’ll ask Sebastian.”

“That buddy of yours?” you ask.

“This is the kind of case he gets called out on.”

“Go ahe―”

“Y/L/N!” You’re cut off by the sound of your captain yelling your name. “You’re going out with the team. Take one of the boys. Don’t alert Hiddleston, but he’ll know why you’re there.”

“You got it, sir.” You turn to Mackie and Evans. “Looks like we got some luck after all. Which one of you wanna join me?”

When you pull up to the scene, the fire has been put out. But the fire that is the press and the countless people that’ve decided this is something they need to see live, that has yet to be handled.

You and Evans walk up to the police barricade tape and shove it aside. An office tries to stop you, but you easily walk past after a flash of your badge. The head officer on the case is easily recognizable where he commands what looks like some junior officers.

“What’s the deal?” you ask.

He turns to you, and there you find Evans’s and Mackie’s friend, Sebastian Stan. He smiles at the two of you. “Got five casualties, one critically hurt on his way to the hospital. Medics think his fate’s been sealed. Other than that the fire’s been put out, and the owner of the house arrived about five minutes ago.” Sebastian points to a male figure pacing up and down the sidewalk. “Don’t know if I’d wanna talk to him though.”

You swallow a lump in your throat. “We haven’t got much choice.” You’re about to walk from the officer, but you have one last question. “You got any identities on who died?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing, and so far it seems the fire was an accident. No fuel used of any kind, nothing weird about the source, and the six that were in the house weren’t close to it. Three of them were asleep.”

“Didn’t the house have a smoke alarm?” asks Evans.

Sebastian shakes his head. “Nope. And you’re not gonna believe what they, as of now, believe to be the source.”

“What?”

“A hair dryer. Wasn’t turned off.”

You frown. “A hair dryer? Nothing else? It’s a pretty big house. Seems like a long shot.”

Sebastian shrugs. “So far we’ve ruled out arson, and seeing how annoyed the owner is over there, safe to say he wasn’t planning on burning his house down.”

Don’t say that. He wouldn’t care, seeing as that isn’t the house he uses mostly―that’s just the public one.

Even Evans knows that, and you give him a look as you move away from Sebastian and towards said owner of the house.

“Hiddleston,” you say as you near him.

The man turns around. His expression is curious rather than angry, but something tugs at his lips as his gaze flickers over to Evans. “Miss Y/L/N, what do I owe the lovely pleasure?”

“Your house burned down. Five of your men dead, and a sixth one just holding on. We’re thinking he’ll die, too, medics said it was critical.” You shrug. “But you already knew that, right?”

Tom smiles, and takes a step closer to you. You have to hold out a hand to stop Evans from coming in between, knowing you have somewhat of a bodyguard in the man. “Darling.” Tom’s hand comes up to cup your cheek and you have to fight the urge to lean into his touch. “How could I know that? No one wants to tell me a bloody thing.” His voice changes fast at the last sentence, the annoyance creeping in.

“Did you set the fire?” asks Evans.

You roll your eyes. “He doesn’t mean to ask that. But we would like to know if there are any of your acquaintances missing?”

Tom nods. “There’s one I wanted to talk to. Name’s Aaron Taylor-Johnson. Haven’t been able to contact him since last night, and that’s unusual.”

“You think he was in the fire?”

The male shakes his head. “I don’t believe he was there at all, but I do believe he would do this. I got the impression he isn’t quite happy with me, or my decisions lately.”

He’s the snitch.

“We’ll let you know if he was in the fire.” You use your hand to push Tom’s hand away from your face, his touch lingering a little too long to be a play (but you weren’t going to complain.) “I have one other inquiry.”

“Go on.”

You take a deep breath before the words leave your mouth. He should be prepared, considering you told him what was in the evidence bag, but you can’t be sure. “Any girlfriends or women in your life we should know about?”

He smiles (god, that smile). “Other than you, love?”

Smooth. You can practically hear Evans roll his eyes behind you.

“Yes, other than me.”

“Then no. I have a far too busy life to deal with girlfriends,” he says, and winks, “though you shouldn’t hesitate to contact me.” Tom leans in close, his lips grazing your ear and his hand taking yours―something cold grazes your fingers. “I can give you a night you won’t forget.”

You don’t let the hitch in your breath show, and when he places a kiss to your cheek, you only stare at him as he pulls away (and let your hand find comfort in your jacket pocket where you let go of your keys).. “Don’t leave town, Mister Hiddleston.”

“I won’t, darling.”

And then you walk away together with Evans. He keeps glancing behind him, and the confusion is written on his face.

“Just ask,” you say as you reach the car.

Evans opens the door. “How are you not fazed by that?” he asks.

You get into the car and shrug. “Because I don’t let it. He thinks it’s fun to play with me because I don’t have a reaction―” (ehehe, yeah right) “―I think it’s fun to let him. Eventually, something has to slip and we’ll be able to catch him on the spot.”

“But you gotta allow yourself to be harassed to do so?”

You chuckle. “I wouldn’t call it harassment, hon. I call it work.”

Evans frowns as you start the engine and pull out of the parking spot. “What do you mean?”

“Haven’t you noticed? When it comes to sexual harassment, Tom Hiddleston is the least of my worries.”

It’s supposed to be a brief stop; get into your apartment, change into something that doesn’t drag attention at a bar on a Thursday night (probably not going to be too crowded anyways), and get out.

But when you walk in through the door, you see a pair of shoes kicked off in the entrance hall. A coat lies draped over your living-room armchair―a coat easily recognizable.

You hurry to close the door, and kick off your own shoes. The trail of clothes leads you further into the apartment. A dress shirt folded together and placed on the cupboard in your living room. Pants lie discarded on the floor in the doorway to your bedroom. And the man who it belongs to, you find tangled in your sheets, buck naked with the exception of the tie around his neck.

“What do you want?” you ask him, an amused smile plastered on your face as you shake your head.

Tom lifts his head a little. A smirk colors his face and he shrugs. “Thought I could surprise you a little, before I have to get going.” He checks the wristwatch on his arm (which you first now noticed he hasn’t taken off either). “But you’ve used quite a lot of time to get here, and now we barely have time for anything.”

You shake your head, smile gone. “Sorry, babe, but I haven’t got the time.”

“What? You have plans for the evening?” There’s a teasing lilt to his voice, but it still slightly hurts seeing as you barely get out of the apartment when you get time off. Really, six months ago was a chance meeting unlike any other.

“I have work.” You move to open your wardrobe. “But if you want, you can help me figure out what to wear.” You turn your head to cast Tom a glance, eyebrow raised.

He turns a little, enough for the sheet that had covered him to fall off and leave him fully exposed. And with just the tie as a piece of clothing, you have to turn back around. God, what that man can do. You grit your teeth as you open the door and file through the few dresses you own, patiently waiting for his response.

“What is it for?” he asks, and his velvet smooth voice does nothing to ease the growing arousal in your gut, not with the image of him and that tie the only thing on your mind.

You swallow before you reply, but you don’t dare turn around. “Gotta talk to the owner of a bar, and don’t wanna drag attention with people there so we agreed to act less like police. Might have to have a drink or two.” You sigh, and close your eyes. “You should have waited with this until then.”

“What?” His voice is in your ear, warm breath fanning your neck. You bite down on your lower lip, hard. “You don’t like it? You’re not enjoying it?” His hands find the hem of your shirt. Fingers graze up along your skin and you find yourself complying when he makes a move to drag it off.

“Tom,” you whisper. You lean into him, into the fingers tracing along your bra and the way his lips ghost over the skin on your shoulder, up your neck. “I don’t―” You shudder as he presses a kiss to your jaw. “Ba― Babe, I don’t have―”

He tips your head back and his lips find yours. Barely touching, you close your eyes, and the image of Tom in bed and you using the tie to drag him to you has you swallow, almost succumbing to the pleasure you know you’ll get. His voice is low when he speaks. “Don’t have what?”

You don’t answer as your hand shoots up to press his head closer to yours, to push your lips together. Everything you can think about is him, your boyfriend, and in a matter of seconds your clothes are off as well, and you sink into the mattress as Tom throws you down on your bed. Your eyes open briefly, to see him study the contours of your body and, even as you do give into Tom and your desire, the haste is still on your mind.

With determination etched into you, you drag him to you with the tie and capture his lips in yours. There is no limit to what this man does to you, and there is no limit to what you let him.

With the already extra time you used with Tom, you didn’t have the time to shower. You’d tried your best to fix your hair and do something extra with your make-up, but Tom didn’t have it in him to let you dress and time was wasted.

Evans and Mackie pick you up outside your apartment complex in Evans’s car. As you approach, the two of them lean against it, deep in conversation. They barely notice you coming, but when they do, both give appreciative looks.

“Looking good,” says Mackie, eyes travelling up and down your body. Evans remains quiet, the way his eyes dance over you the only comment you get (and you have to admit, you’re not really complaining.)

You’d opted for something nice, but nothing too much. A skirt that stops mid-thigh, knee high boots with a thick heel, and a slightly revealing shirt. (You’d also opted for a thigh holster so that you could still bring your gun.

“You’re wearing that.” It’s more a statement than a question from the naked man resting on your bed.

You nod, and glance his way. “Problem?”

Tom’s eyes graze over you, hunger evident in them. “I would certainly like to take it off.”

You lift the hem of your skirt, revealing the thigh holster with your gun. “This too?”

“Yes, and right now.”)

In your hand, you have a clutch and you’re also wearing a coat to keep some warmth in the cool evening air. “Shall we go?” you ask.

And the two men both get off from where they’re leaning against the car. Mackie easily offers up the passenger’s seat to you, even though whenever it's him and Evans fighting over it, it’s first come first serve. You smile a thanks and then you’re on your way.

Evans parks a few blocks away from the bar (his expensive Audi with tinted windows certainly drags some attention), and you use the walk there to go through the course of action.

“Mackie’s the cop-cop. He’ll talk to Luke Evans, try something else. We try to talk to some of the people there. Whether that’s as a cop or not, I don’t really care. All we really need is a lead. If anyone sees any of Hiddleston’s associates, please alert the others.”

The two nod. “Sure, but before we go in there, you have to fix your hair.”

You raise your brow at Mackie. “Excuse me?”

“You got sex hair.” He gives you a ‘sorry’ smile and a shrug. “Like, we’re not judging you for having it, but if you’d told us you had a visitor we would’ve waited to come to give you more time.”

“Fuck.” You shake your head and stop. “One, help me fix my hair. Two, I wasn’t planning on it. I was ambushed.” Something that isn’t really that far fetched, it’s not like you knew Tom would be there when you came home.

Evans stops in front of you and asks with his face if he can help, and you nod. His hands move to brush a little through your hair, and fix a little on what probably stands out.

“How could you get ambushed?” asks Mackie.

You roll your eyes. “I got home, there were some clothes lying around, I followed the trail to a naked man in my bed and seeing as it’s the guy I’m currently seeing it wasn’t a bad sight. I tried to tell him I didn’t have the time, but he can be quite persuasive.”

As you talk, Evans tugs a little harshly on your hair and you let out a pained sound. He apologizes, but continues to try and fix your hair.

Mackie shrugs. “How long have you been seeing him?”

You shrug. “Few months.”

“How many months are a few?” asks Evans, his hands letting go of your hair and an approving smile on his face. He steps away to get Mackie’s blessing and the man nods affirmative.

“Uhh, six.”

Both Mackie and Evans stare wide-eyed at you.

“You’ve been dating a dude for six months and not told anyone?!” If you didn’t know better (and you’re not always sure you do), you’d think there was a layer of accusation in Mackie’s voice, but you don’t believe there is.

You shrug and begin to walk again. “What does it matter? It’s not like there’s a need to know about those things.”

“I thought we were friends.” Mackie shakes his head, a small friendly glare sent your way.

“What made you think that?” you ask, but the same friendly feel to your words as there was to his glare. “But can we let it go? I don’t want to talk about my private life.”

Evans nods. “We’re here anyways.”

And you sure are. You look up to see the blinking neon sign of the bar. The bass from the music drifts to where you stand by the door, and with a quick glance inside, you can see it’s fuller than you expected for there to be another work day of the week left. Though you do notice the age of the people; it's possible the college kids don't have class tomorrow, or don’t care.

The three of you make your way inside, gaining a few glances as you step in, but everyone quickly turns back to their own lives. You give a small sign to the two men you came with and move away from them.

It’s easy to step up to the bar, and you easily recognize the bartender as the one who was there when you met Tom. You’re guessing he’s Luke Evans, and you take a breath before you signal him for a drink. Hopefully, you won’t be recognized.

“What can I get you?” he asks.

“A whiskey, thanks.”

He pushes away from the counter, and easily grabs a glass and a bottle and pours. When he puts it down in front of you, his gaze lingers. “Have I seen you before?”

You shake your head. “Has to be somewhere else than here in that case.”

“First time?”

You nod.

“Recommend not drinking a lot. We get some sleazy people in here.”

“I hear you also get crime bosses. This the place to meet the Tom Hiddleston?”

Luke chuckles. “Hon, if you want to meet Tom Hiddleston, I suggest you start being careful what you wish.” He nods to the back of the bar. “Best luck is sitting down in that reserved booth. It’s his usual.”

You cock your head. “He’s coming here today?”

The bartender nods.

“Ain’t I lucky,” you whisper and smile at him. You easily get away from the counter and make your way to the empty booth in the back.

Sure enough, a sign reading reserved is placed on the table. Who it’s reserved for doesn’t say, nor is there a time stamp. You make for sliding into it, but a hand grasps your wrist and pulls you away.

As you fall into the chest of the stranger, you turn your head. The man who you’d seen earlier today is the one holding you back. Up close, you notice bags under his eyes and he reeks of alcohol. You pull away from his grip and raise a brow his way.

“I wouldn’t sit down there if I were you,” he says, and slides into the same booth he had earlier.

“Why?”

He shakes his head. “Tom Hiddleston isn’t a man to mess with.”

“And how do you know so much about Tom Hiddleston?”

The man pats the seat next to him. “Sit and I’ll tell you.”

You hesitate, but eventually slide in. You leave room between yourself and the stranger. If anything were to happen, you do have a gun.

“You got any relation to Hiddleston?” you ask (you have to admit, no matter how much you want your boyfriend not to be caught, you wish you knew more about what he did do).

“Name’s Aaron.” The snitch.

You motion for him to go on.

“I was hired by him three months ago. He felt the cops were gaining and wanted something, or someone to try and put a stopper to it.”

“So, Tom Hiddleston hired you to snitch on the cops?” You want to laugh, seeing as you snitch enough for Tom to never know exactly what you know, but enough to cover his tracks.

Aaron shakes his head. “He hired me to snitch on a cop. A specific one.”

You frown, sure if he was hired to snitch on you you’d know and he would have recognized you. Perhaps he had.

“The cop’s here today.” Aaron’s gaze travels into the crowd of people in the bar. You see where he looks. Evans. “His name is Chris Evans.”

“Why did he want you to spy on him?”

Aaron shrugs. “He never said. And eventually, I got sick of it. The guy’s obviously not a threat to Hiddleston and his business. Y/N Y/L/N is, but it’s impossible to find out anything about her. Don’t even know what she looks like.”

You try not to let it show that you flinched at the mention of your own name. And you find it weird that he can’t find anything on you. Tom did so, easily. But there’s no need to dwell on that. You glance at Aaron again, unsure how to ask.

“You say you got sick of it. What did you do? Just stop doing his bidding, or something else?”

A smile colors Aaron’s face. “Snitched to the cops. Left a message. Anonymous, but I gave them a way to contact me for more information.” He shakes his head. “Got contacted today, but never replied. But I saw you here this morning, talking to the bartender.”

You cock your head. That could be an easy way to draw the connection to you as a cop, not necessarily as Y/N Y/L/N, but you had been seen with Mackie, and usually Mackie and Evans were seen with each other.

“I have a proposition for you,” he says. “One that means getting close to Hiddleston, and that includes spying on him. Mics, cameras, whatever. I need him in jail.”

“I’m gonna have to say no. I was just hoping for a night, a friend of mine told me he was real good in bed.” You shrug. “But if you have angered him, I got told by the bartender that Hiddleston comes in today.”

Aaron smiles. “You’ll have to excuse me, then. I hope you don’t anger him with only the intention of a one night stand. Based on how you look, I’m pretty sure you’re his type.” The male slides out of the booth, downs his drink in one go, and waves goodbye. You watch as he moves to the restrooms, and you roll your eyes when he winks.

[10.47] you snitch is alive, in the restrooms hiddlestons supposed to come in today

[10.48] evans no snitch in the restrooms, window’s open tho guessing it was the guy that slipped past me just now

[10.48] you guess so mackie u got anything from the bartender

[10.50] mackie that hiddlestons coming in that their deal is just renting of the venue from time to time

[10.50] you well just have to do the best of it then im sitting in his booth so if he comes hell notice

[10.51] evans sure thats a good idea??

[10.51] you would very much like to know why he put someone to spy on you evans snitch was hired to keep tabs, got annoyed he wasnt keeping tabs on me

[10.51] mackie dam i wanna know that too be careful

You look up and meet the gazes of your coworkers. Evans looks uncomfortable, worried almost, judging by the crease between his brows. Mackie gives you a look of understanding and a pair of thumbs up.

You down your drink, try to cover the hiss as pain sears down your throat, and make to sit down in Tom’s booth. On the way in, you knock over the reserved sign, making it fall to the floor. Now, it’ll look like you didn’t know.

[10.57] mackie Incoming

The front door opens slowly. Heads turn to look who comes through, and unlike when you arrived with Mackie and Evans, everyone’s eyes stay on the man who weaves his way through the crowd.

Tom stops by the bar, has a small chat with the bartender and turns his head to look your way. A smirk grazes his lips as your eyes lock, but he quickly turns back to the man he was talking to.

You swallow. You have to steady your beating heart, have to shove the thought of the night’s previous events to the back of your mind, and kill the deep swirling feeling in your gut at the sight of Tom in that blue fucking suit. God, if there was something Tom Hiddleston was made to do it’s wearing suits.

The blue color suits his very being. It’s tailored to fit him perfectly; long legs encased in blue fabric that shows off his bum, suit jacket that fits his shoulders and back in a way that has you swallow. You can see his broad shoulders and some of the tightness that drags at his muscled arms. What you can’t wait to see, is how well the shirt underneath fits him. You simply can’t wait for him to pull off the jacket.

Thankfully, you don’t have to wait very long. With two drinks in hand he makes his way up to where you sit. He doesn’t say anything as he places them on the table, nor does he say anything when he pulls up the reserved sign from where it lies on the floor. He places it back on the table, eyes you warily, and sides into the booth.

Long arms grasp for the drinks. He pulls them in and pushes one to you. “Can you drink, darling? You’re working, right?”

You take the glass and swirl the liquid around inside it. “I can, actually.” And you take a sip. “But I won’t drink a lot.”

Tom moves closer to you, knocking his thigh against yours. You take a deep breath at the touch, the only one you can return―Tom flirting with you whilst you work is no news, but it would be quite different if you did the same. “Have you been waiting long, darling?”

“No, I haven’t. I managed to preoccupy myself.”

“Oh, can I hear?”

You shake your head. “What good would you have of that?” you ask. When you get a shrug in return, you roll your eyes and take another sip of the whiskey. “I have a question for you, though.”

Tom cocks a brow.

“Why did you need someone to spy on Evans?”

Your heart beats fast as Tom moves even closer, lips coming up to ghost across your cheek. You can see that the two in the crowd of people keeping a close eye on you flinch, but you don’t make a gesture to show any discomfort. “Have you not noticed, love?”

You push him away by placing a hand on his chest. “Noticed what?” You try to pull your hand back but Tom places his over yours and keeps your touch on him. A small hint of the love he usually offers you shows through the blue of his eyes.

“The man likes you, darling. A little too much. Can’t have another man try anything with my woman.” Tom’s gaze flickers out to the crowd, and as you follow it, you see how it lands on Evans and how your coworker squirms. “Now, if only I could show him.”

“Tom,” you say, voice bordering on affectionate. His eyes flicker to you in surprise; he’s only ever been Hiddleston in public. “There’s nothing to worry about, and if you try anything, anything at all, you will have a gun to your head.”

Tom chuckles. “Are you threatening me?”

“You know where the gun is.” And the hand that travels up and under your skirt, grazing by the thigh holster, has you swallow. You take a deep breath as his hand travels a little further, and the only way to stop him is to grab his hand. “I didn’t say you could check.” You push at him a little, creating more distance between you two (even though you would like to sit close to him).

“I didn’t think I needed permission, love.” He smirks and you shake your head.

You smile innocently at him. “Usually you don’t.” You go to slide out of the booth. “Bye, Hiddleston.”

Tom grabs your arm and pulls you back to his chest. “Have you really made that big a dent in the case of the Blue Sweater?” he whispers in your ear. You writhe in his grasp, but a firm hand turns your head to him and his face draws closer to yours. “Tell me what I need to do to have the lead again, darling. I’ll do anything.”

And you can’t stop the sound of surprise that escapes you when Tom presses a chaste kiss to your lips. The surprise is so big you only stare wide-eyed at him, not able to kiss him back (and good is that seeing as you’re in public), and when he pulls back, you push away from him and shake your head.

“You’re an idiot,” you say (no teasing or play in your voice), and then you walk away. You rush out of the bar, feel Evans’s and Mackie’s eyes on you, and when you get out of the front door you lean against the wall. Your heart hammers in your chest. You’re panting, and you can feel the rush of adrenaline making its way through your body.

You may like to play with fire, letting him flirt and show affection in public, but you wouldn’t ever go this far. You wouldn’t ever think he’d even risk it.

“Are you okay?” comes a voice from next to you. Evans and Mackie have made it outside, and you push off the wall to start walking to the car.

“We’re not talking about it,” you say.

Neither of them make a move to say more, and you can hear them follow after you. Tom might be the worst person in history to be in a secret relationship with. Or maybe the best. You haven’t decided yet.

It’s no surprise to see the people surrounding your desk when you get to work. Your two usual pests sit at their own, and though not a part of the group waiting for you, they shoot you glances as you sit down.

You try not to glare at the group, but when they all just quietly stare at you, the anger bubbles. “What?” you ask.

A small murmur goes through them, until your impatient glare becomes too much and one voice squeaks out, “did Tom Hiddleston kiss you?”

He has more than once, you think.

You don’t reply, only giving them an unamused look in return. They quickly scatter, and you can hear the chatter that bubbles up amongst them.

Not only do you not have the patience for stupid pestering (and annoyance at Evans and Mackie for spreading the word), but your morning was the worst in a while. It’s almost become a usual for Tom to sleep over, whether because he falls asleep after sex or if he just wants to cuddle, but when you came home yesterday, there was no Tom.

And no Tom means no morning cuddles, or a goodbye kiss as you leave out the door. On top of that, he hasn’t texted either. No saying why he didn’t show. No explaining why he risked a kiss in public.

A text you did get in the morning, was a journalist asking for an interview. Especially interesting was the lack of respect for an ongoing investigation, and the bold way to ask whether or not you were secretly helping Tom not get caught (you want to know how they would even guess it. That’s a pretty bold assumption to make about the lead detective on a case).

Tired, you rest your elbow on the desk and lay your head in your hand. You massage your forehead slightly, and there’s no mistaking the groan that leaves your lips as your thoughts swirl.

A knock on your desk pulls you out of it. You look up to see Mackie leaning against it. “You okay?” he asks.

You shake your head. “It doesn’t matter. We gotta talk about what information we got, though. But I don’t trust… I don’t want to talk out here, so, briefing room in five minutes. I don’t know if Evans heard, but make sure he did.”

Mackie scrunches his nose slightly and presses his lips together.

“What’s wrong?”

“Briefing room’s occupied.”

You curse under your breath and shake your head. “We got a meeting room, that occupied?”

Mackie shakes his head. “Not that I know.”

“We’ll meet there.” And as he gives you a thumbs up, you get up from your desk and move to the captain’s office. With a knock and a mumbled ‘come in’ you walk into the room and close the door behind you.

Cheadle looks up at you. “I heard what happened.”

You nod. “Yeah, but there’s something else I’m here about.”

He quirks a brow. “Oh? Important?”

You pull out your phone, ignore the new message you’ve gotten and find the text from the journalist. You hand the captain your phone. “Got this this morning. I want to know how they got my number, what made them think I’m colluding with the guy I’m trying to catch, and what the hell made them believe I’d ever talk to a news source about an open investigation.”

“That is weird.” Captain Cheadle hands you back your phone (just in time, too, because a message chimes in from twh). “When you have time, come back in here. I know you’re gonna talk to the guys now, but I’d like for it to be soon. And check if they haven’t gotten the same one.”

“Yes, sir.” You sigh and walk out again. You head for the meeting room and on your way you pull open your text thread with Tom.

[08.18] twh darling we need to talk i think i have some information you’d like to have

[08.23] you gonna talk about smth else too or just your problem??

[08.23] twh im sorry, darling, i got caught up in work we can talk about both tell me when you have time and ill show up at your flat

[08.23] you tonight, 8

The reply goes by you as you open the door to the meeting room. Evans and Mackie already sit down, Evans with papers in front of him and Mackie with his phone out on the table. You frown, but sit down across from them.

“I don’t know who wants to start.” You look between the two men, and when neither say anything, you shrug. “Guess I’ll go then.” You take a deep breath. “Our snitch’s name is Aaron Taylor-Johnson, the man Hiddleston mentioned yesterday when we questioned him about the fire. He isn’t dead because he was in the bar. He says he was hired a few months ago to keep tabs on Evans, but he got sick of it because, according to him, you’re not the threat. On the other hand, I am, but he didn’t know he was talking to me.”

“Did you find out why Hiddleston got him to spy on Evans?” asks Mackie.

You shake your head. “Hiddleston didn’t answer that. Snitch didn’t know himself, but he said he tried to keep tabs on me, too, only he couldn’t. He didn’t have anything to go on, no information, no way to know what I look like. And I find that interesting. Why would Hiddleston go out of his way to make sure they couldn’t do anything to make me a culprit or anything?”

“Maybe because Hiddleston has the biggest crush on you?” asks Evans, and there’s no mistaking the hint of spite in his voice as he says so. “Or, he finds you that big enough a threat he can’t have his guys going around doing stuff to hinder you because you’re smart enough to be able to connect it to him?”

“I hope the last,” you mumble. “But there was definitely something he wasn’t telling me. He seemed to know more than he let on, but I couldn’t push like I usually do because then he’d know. I want to see if we can contact him again, because he knew we tried yesterday without luck.”

“We’ll try, but I don’t think we’re gonna get much either.” Evans nods, and all three of you let out sighs.

You motion for them to start talking instead. Evans slides you a piece of paper. Not much is on it, but the words are clear. You look up at him.

“There were some regulars there that have witnessed Hiddleston many times. The man I talked to said that.” Evans coughs. “‘He’s always alone, at least when he sits, but he leaves with men. Never has a girl around him unless they come up to him, hasn’t had one in a long time. Only once did he leave with one. She was pretty, looked rather intimidating, actually. Don’t think it lasted.’ The man also went on to ramble about how after that, Hiddleston hasn’t been seen with a girl. Well, before you.”

“So he has left with a girl once.” Mackie confirms. “Luke Evans said the same thing. A pretty little thing that edged in on the man unlike no one he’d seen before, and that surprisingly got to leave with him. He’s never seen the woman again, and he found that odd. He doesn’t believe Hiddleston’s got someone in his life, though.”

You bite your lower lip. “Well, that is something. Any descriptions?”

Both shake their heads.

“There is one thing I noted, though,” says Mackie. “If Hiddleston does have someone he likes, is with, whatever. He so openly flirts with you that that woman has got to be furious, and he probably wouldn’t have kissed you either. I think the wristband was sent to him, not from him.”

You nod. “I believe you’re right there.” You know he’s right, but that’s details you’re not sharing. “But I have something more interesting.” You fish your phone out of your pocket (ignore the new messages from Tom) and open up the one you got this morning.

“What’s going on?” asks Evans as you place your phone in front of them on the table. They read over the text and cast eyes up to you. Something in the look both send, they’ve seen something similar before.

“Got it this morning.” You snatch your phone back, seeing the almost pop-up about a new text and not risking who it’s from. “I need to know who believes I’m colluding with the enemy.”

Mackie nods as he opens up his own phone and slides it across to you. “We got the same text, though slightly altered. They’re asking if we know anything about you colluding with Hiddleston.”

[06.53] unkown Hi, I’m a reporter from New York Times. I was wondering if there would be released more information pertaining to the Hiddleston case, and what you know about Hiddleston and Detective Y/L/N’s relationship to the man. I heard last night that they kissed, and maybe the reason you haven’t caught him yet is something entirely else than him being good at what he does.

“Fucking hell,” you mutter. You slide Mackie’s phone back to him and let out a loud sigh.

Things are not looking very bright.

A/N: thats what i have. if you want to, reblog this with a continuation, but please dont steal any of this and act like it’s your own. i worked a lot on this when i still had motivaton but i wanted to at least share it even if i wont finish it, to which im deeply sorry

would always want to know what you guys think...

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #twh #thomas william hiddleston #reader insert #x reader #unfinished #tom hiddleston imagine #imagine

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puppy-phum · 4 years ago

Text

thank you once again @yibobibo for tagging me ♥ even if, like I said, this is pure torture. I have so many sons that I’ve given up on counting them sigh but here goes.

favourite male fictional characters.

I took it that this meant ten so am going with that (tho am not gonna try and put them into order). am also sticking to all the characters I loved this year. and gonna ramble and add gifs so cutting it here.

1. Liu Sang

The Lost Tomb Reboot/Reunion: The Sound of The Providence

I have so much love for this boy it’s not even healthy. it’s a bit funny tho bc once I started tltr, I didn’t really like him and almost forgot about him as the first season ended. he just felt so annoying and bitter in what I saw him, even if I did get that he had a Tragic BackstoryTM (I felt for him but well. tltr really made him hard to like at first). but then they brought him back in the second season with his sad puppy eyes and inability to handle his thoughts on wu xie and being all touch-starved and pitiful and whatnot and baam, I had the adoption papers ready. he’s wonderful and so strong and so smart and amazing. and liu chang as his actor has been wonderful (and he’s so pretty my god, have you seen him??)

2. Shen Wei

Guardian

never did I expect to just. fall into this hole after a year? I remember what a mess I was when I first watched guardian over a year ago, right after finishing the untamed. I was in shambles even as I knew how it would end. and now I’ve done this all again while also reading the novel and. my love for shen wei, especially bc it’s zhu yilong acting as shen wei? astronomical. I want to write poetry about him and his stupid responsibilities that he chooses to carry silently and his devotion to zhao yunlan and his love for his ppl and his didi and. I hope that one day I manage to write weilan bc I have this one idea and you can come pry it from my cold, dead fingers if it doesn’t get out there (am also super happy about the edit I made bc my god does he deserve at least that)

3. Cloud Strife

Final Fantasy VII

ok so stepping into the video games territory now. I was waiting for the remake like crazy and it was everything to me once the quarantine hit during spring. the game is so beautiful and I felt like I looked at this gorgeous boy once and was ready to give him my heart (tbh am quite sure he owned my heart before I even learned to know him). he is tragic in so many ways (I’ve only scratched the surface of all of his pain I know) and I wish I could just. hug him a lot. he is kind and cares very deeply even if he hates to show it and I love it how remake showed him also just being a human disaster (some of his scenes are just. peak comedy). I would kill for his smile (I have already cried for it a dozen)

4. Geralt of Rivia

The Witcher (The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt)

if there’s one grumpy, brickwall of a man I love, it’s geralt. I affectionately call him “papa wolf” while playing witcher 3 and his voice in it does things to me (I am just so fond of him ok, begone you dirty fuckers). I got introduced to him through the books and adored him in them bc he is so prickly and sarcastic and still so full of love even if he will never admit to it. he is the father figure I wish I could have in real life. (and yes, I’ve seen the tv series (or at least a couple of the first episodes) and it looks stunning but. this is my version of geralt and that’s the hill I will die on)

5. Xiaoge

Zhang Qiling, Daomu Biji (The Lost Tomb 2)

(wow finding a gif for him was a pain, apparently I gotta learn how to gif or?) ah, my dear boy who I’ve ended up just calling xiaoge bc he seems to prefer it over his real name/title/whatever zhang qiling really is. I got introduced to him through tltr where we really didn’t get to know that much about him bc he was just... there. huang junjie was absolutely stunning tho and his soft smiles made me super fond, but only in the lost tomb 2 did I really fall in love with xiaoge as a character. I was surprised tbh bc I didn’t expect it to be this drama? I had so many doubts about the cast in tlt2 but they all delivered! and I think cheng yi’s xiaoge is now my favorite bc he somehow captured that softness and the pain of him? (and we do not talk about that buxun storyline tyvm) tho now that ultimate note is on the way, I gotta say that xiao yuliang does a wonderful job as xiaoge too!

6. Wu Xie

Daomu Biji (Ultimate Note)

(sorry we have to go with a pingxie gif now but maybe it’s only fitting) tbh it’s hard to choose my favorite version of wu xie. I think all of the actors for him have done amazing job showing wu xie in different parts of his life (all of them are very distinct but still feel like the same person) but currently zheng shunxi takes the lead. I really wanted to put the reboot version of him here (bc I love that mature, relaxed and somehow very soft version of him and the angst is phenomenal and the thoughts he has about death... yeah) but I already have zhu yilong’s face here once so :’D wu xie is just one of those characters you cannot not like. he is so strong, so kind, so stubborn, so wonderfully stupid sometimes and in need of careful protection. I also adore it how smart he is and I could listen to him spew history facts for 10 hours straight (even if it was in a tomb full of blood zombies) ♥

7. Jiang Cheng

Jiang Wanyin, The Untamed

my darling boy! my beautiful angry grape! I love him beyond words. I love him in all of his raging, misunderstood, stupid, sassy, constipated, abused, tragic, bitter, big hearted glory. I could write novels about him (and I did and am still writing oh boy) and his love for ppl and his inability to show that love and his loneliness and his issues. I could also write another novel for all of his outfits etc. bc damn, what a fashion king. he is just so great. he owns my soul. he deserves happiness and in this essay I will

8. Isana Yashiro

Adolf K. Weismann, K Project

I rewatched k project this spring bc a) it’s one of my favorite animes ever (it just looks stunning with all the colors) and b) I love yashiro to bits. I remember falling in love with him when I first watched k project many years ago bc he was just so kind and bright. this time though, I ended up seeing another side of him and my god did I cry. he is... so sweet. he cares for others so deeply and is ready to sacrifice so much for them and his love for his two clansmen... yeah. I think I finally saw the tragedy of him too, all the pain and loneliness and insecurity he decides to hide behind his smile and obnoxious personality. he reminded me a lot of myself and watching him made my heart bleed in a good way

9. Qi Tiezui

Ba Ye, The Mystic Nine

(wow am going to riot for the lack of all the gifs hhh) yes, we’re continuing with the dmbj universe that sucked me in big time this year. the drama of the mystic nine wasn’t probably that earth shattering for me as it somehow got boring more than once but I did love ba ye to bits. he was just... so nice? I got it that he was somehow this “comedic relief” in the drama with all of his funny scenes and ridiculous mannerisms but I could see the brilliance of him. he is warm and smart and kind of a romantic too and he cares for all of his friends so deeply? it was also sweet how protective of him his two zhangs were (does that run in the family? the tendency to imprint into one smart but disastrous man and keep him safe? maybe) and I really hope I knew more about him bc he seemed to have a lot of knowledge and a lot of impact to ppl’s lives (I yelled when they mentioned him in ultimate note, I miss him ;;)

10. Dorian Pavus

Dragon Age Inquisition

(yes I’ve been replaying DA:I this year, this counts!) another darling boy! my lovely sass master son! I have so much love for him and his story in DA:I. he is my favorite companion (and his romance is my favorite too, probably obvious in the way am currently romancing him for the third time) and he has given me a lot of strength. the way he stands up against his father, how he’s ready to reform his homeland instead of walking away, how he’s so caring for those he sees struggling... it’s very warming and I feel like I’m safe with him. it feels a bit silly to say that but he really is that comfort character I will seek out when I just want to know am doing fine :’) (and I am so excited to see him again in DA4! probably?)

+ 11. Li Cu

Tomb of the Sea

yes I cheated a bit (with my own rules lol) to fit li cu here. I didn’t really expect to like him or tomb of the sea as much as I did once I started it? I’ve seen leo wu elsewhere before this (battle through the heavens, nirvana in fire) and his face always makes me think about a sad puppy so maybe I just grew fond over li cu instantly bc he was... so hurt? the first episode really slaps you in the face with all of it, showing him being abused, wounded, kidnapped, tortured, used and then just very, very scared and broken. he continues being that throughout the whole drama and I feel like tomb of the sea (or sand sea or sha hai idk) is the darkest and angstiest story in the dmbj universe. I know it deserves to be bc this is a dark time for wu xie but... my darling li cu. I wish him only happiness ;; he was so strong and smart and wonderful in this and it was just so amazing to watch him grow and find his own place in the world just bc he did something himself (even when he got dragged into all of this bc of wu xie) also I support the wu xie adopts li cu -agenda

Honorary mentions:

Zhang Rishan, Xie Yuchen and Hei Xiazi from DMBJ universe. The Twin Jades of Gusu and Ouyang Zizhen from The Untamed. The Iron Bull and Fenris from Dragon Age games. Thane Krios, Kaidan Alenko and Jaal from Mass Effect games. The whole lot of Assassin’s Creed protagonists (especially Ezio Auditore and Shay Cormac). Adam Parrish and Ronan Lynch from The Raven Cycle. Neil Josten from All For The Game. Eduon and March from The Smoke Thieves. Qiling from L.O.R.D. Critical World. Luo Fei from Detective L (played by Bai Yu).

well, with this I can really see that I have a thing for those who are tragic :’D I have a thing for grumpy, prickly and antisocial guys or those who hide their pain behind a smile. maybe it’s bc I am somehow both, even if I can’t show my anger or be mean to others and even if I feel like my smile never sticks either. I just find kinship in all of the characters who are on this list. and I feel like I aspire to be as strong and as kind and as loving despite all the pain I’ve been put through.

thank you, this was so much fun! and sorry I made this so long and so complicated ^^’ but well, there are just way too many male characters I love haha

at the end I want to tag @i-am-just-a-kiddo @ashenwren @kholran @tiesanjiao @lan-xichens @aheartfullofjolllly @manhasetardis and @lzswy ♥ feel free to do this in your own way or not at all! and thank you if you managed to read through my rambling :’D

#tag game #wow this was something #i've been waiting for one #bc there is so much love in me #and this year i've discovered so many #new characters to just gush over #about me #random #edit: added a few characters #and tagged some more ppl sorry #also mobile tumblr wouldnt let me edit so lol

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lesbianlovelanguage · 4 years ago

Note

hi!! u asked for prompts!! how about experiment!steve nd the party and billy finding out? u chose his abilities:-)

Hey nonny!! I had SO MUCH fun writing this, thank you so much for the awesome prompt. I hope you like it :)

Also putting in a cut bc this is like over 3k

Nancy and Jonathan-

Steve was so, so tired as he rolled up to the Byer’s house. The entire three hours he had spent erasing that stupid ass graffiti, he had thought about how to make it up to Nancy. He realized that the first move had to be apologizing to Byers. Besides that, what he had said really was fucked up, no matter how much Nancy had hurt him. It definitely wasn’t his place to say anyone else’s family is screwed up either, not with his history.

With a huff, he clambered out of his car and hustled up to the front door. Something didn’t feel right, but he shrugged that off to the fact that it was so dark outside. He reached the front door, and began pounding.

“Jonathan! Are you there man? It’s… It’s Steve! Listen, I just wanna talk.” He heard some shuffling as he continued to pound on the door, but pulled his fist away as he heard the chain lock being pulled.

“Nancy?” This was going to be so much harder if she was here, shit.

“Steve. You need to leave.”

“No, no I’m not trying to start shit, okay?”

“That’s not important Steve. I don’t care.” Fuck, he really fucked up didn’t he?

Nancy began to close the door, and with it he saw any chance of apologizing and making up for his actions disappearing.

“No, no, no, Nanc, please, I-” He pounded on the door both in frustration and to try and get her to stop closing it. “I messed up, okay? I messed up, and- and I’m sorry. I just want to make things right.” He took a deep breath and looked up into Nancy’s eyes. All he saw there was sadness and anxiety though, and he quickly looked away.

And noticed the thick Ace bandage wrapped around her hand.

“Wh-what happened to your hand?” He reached to grab it, but she pulled away.

“Nothing! It was an accident,” she tried to explain, but Steve had been with her long enough to recognize when she was lying. A terrible thought dawned on him

“Did he do this to you? Nance, let me,” he began pushing on the door, “let me in, Nancy.” She tried to fight, but with one final push he barged into the darkened living room of the Byers’ house. The only thing he noticed was a fucking baseball bat with nails, and then Jonathan was in his face, yelling about how he needed to leave. They were in the middle of scuffling when he heard a click, and Nancy pointed a gun in his face.

“Steve, get out,” she said, tone deadly serious.

All of his instincts were screaming to run, but he couldn’t just leave Nancy behind, he loved her.

“Thi- this is a joke right? Nance, put the gun down.”

“You have five seconds to leave. I’m doing this for you,” and then his instincts really began going haywire. She was counting down slowly, Jonathan was screaming at her, and the fucking christmas lights began flickering. It was as if they were some sort of signal, as Nancy stopped counting and Jonathan dove for the baseball bat. They were looking for something, but all there was were the damn lights.

“Hello, will someone please explain what the fu-” Before he could finish demanding answers, a thing straight out of nightmares began bursting through the ceiling, and Nancy and Jonathan were booking it down the hallway. There was nothing he could do but run after them.

They all piled into a bedroom at the end of the hall, but there still were no answers as Nancy and Jonathan stared at the door waiting for that thing to burst through.

But then the flashing lights stopped and the house went silent.

For the first time since he burst through the front door, Steve said nothing as they all crept out of the bedroom into the dark hallway. They made it all the way back out to the living room, but the house was empty except for them.

“This is crazy,” Steve whispered at first, but continued to repeat with more franticness in his voice as he lunged for the phone he saw hanging on the wall. He had just managed to dial 9-1-1 when Nancy ripped it out of his hands and threw it away from them.

“It’s going to come back,” she shouted. “So you need to leave. Right. Now.” Steve took a deep breath and looked between the two of them.

“No,” he said, trying to hide the shakiness of his voice. All he got for his defiance though was the two of them physically pushing him out the front door. Not wanting to be caught outside in the dark with that monster, he booked it to his car, but just as he was climbing into the front seat, he saw the lights in the house begin to flicker again.

It was coming back.

He charged back towards the house without a second thought, but as he ran, he felt something stirring within him. A feeling he had long ago pushed away, ever since the Harringtons decided to buy him from the lab.

Between one step and the next, he found himself shifting. By the time he burst through the front door, he was no longer human, but rather a lion acting on instinct to protect his pride.

It seemed that he had arrived just in time too, as Jonathan lay prone on the ground and Nancy was backed into a corner. Acting on the howling demands of his hindbrain, Steve lept at the monster, bearing his teeth in a fearsome growl, and knocked it away from her. He tumbled with it to the ground and began blindly swiping at it with his claws. He forced it down the hallway, where he vaguely remembered a bear trap lay waiting, and with one final leap, pushed it into the jaws of the trap. He turned back and growled at the two people standing behind him, looking confused and scared, but a fearsome scream from the monster kicked Jonathan back into motion as he rushed forward and chucked the lighter at the gas puddle by the monster’s feet. All three of them watched in awe for a moment as the thing burst into flames, and then Jonathan was running to grab a fire extinguisher and the ball of flames was doused with a cloud of chemicals that irritated Steve’s sensitive nose. The house was filled with coughing and panting as they tried to look through the fog and see if the monster had been defeated.

All that remained was a pile of bubbling ooze coating the closed bear trap.

All three of them breathed a sigh of relief at the sight. It was over. They had won.

With the danger gone, Steve felt the same sensation roll over him and then he was once again standing on two feet. He winced as he heard two shocked inhales behind him and turned to face the two other teens.

“Tada,” he said weakly.

“What. The actual. Fuck.” Jonathan panted, but Nancy simply stared at him with her mouth agape.

Steve shifted awkwardly on the balls of his feet, still trying to readjust to the sudden shift after five years of trying to push that part of him away, and then realized he was naked.

“Could I- uh, could I borrow some sweats?” He asked Jonathan.

The Party-

“Nance, I’m still not sure about this. They all hate me.”

“Steve,” Nancy sighed. They had been having this argument all morning. “They don’t hate you. They don’t know you, there’s a difference. But you helped us defeat that demogorgon and that makes you part of the group.”

“But Nanc-”

“No but Nance. Now c’mon, we’re gonna be late.” They both piled into Steve’s BMW and headed to the other side of town, where the Byers lived, and where the party decided to hold a little Christmas party.

They got out, and Steve offered to grab the presents out of the backseat while Nancy went ahead to say hi to everyone. She agreed reluctantly, shooting him a look.

He opened the backseat and took a shaky breath. He couldn’t believe he let Nancy talk him into this, but once she found out that he would spend the holidays alone because his parents decided that a beach resort in Aruba was a better choice, she wouldn’t budge. Everyone would be there, she had promised as if that would make him feel less nervous. Even the girl who Mike had apparently been hiding in his basement.

After taking a few breaths and grabbing the basket they had decided to put everyone’s gifts in, he headed into the Byers, still feeling his stomach roil with nerves.

The first person he was bombarded with was a short kid with wild curly hair and a wide smile.

“I heard you helped Jonathan and Nancy take out a demogorgon! They said you were wicked killed with a baseball bat.” Steve looked up and made eye contact with Nancy. That’s the story they went with?

“Yep,” he chuckled. “That- uh, that’s me.” The curly haired boy’s eyes widened.

“That’s awesome!” He crowed, turning back around to run and tell the other children gathered around the coffee table. He recognized Nancy’s little brother, Mike, and he had a vague recollection of the other two younger boys, but then he saw the only girl in the middle of the boys. That must be the girl Mike had been hiding. She looked up at the curly-haired boy as he went charging over, but Steve couldn’t get a good look at her as he was pulled away by Nancy into the kitchen. He dutifully followed her in to meet Joyce Byers and Chief Hopper. Joyce then pulled him into helping her finish up the dinner as she rambled about helping to save their house and how thankful she was that he had shown up to help Nancy and Jonathan.

Eventually, dinner was finished, and he was tasked with gathering the children as Joyce and Chief Hopper set the small kitchen table. He walked back over to the living room, and was finally able to see the girl’s face.

Not only was it a face he recognized, but one that haunted his nightmares almost every night. Granted he hadn’t seen her in the five years he had been free, but he would always remember the wide, brown eyes that had stared up at him with so much innocence and youth, so exotic within the labs.

Eleven. The girl he had considered a younger sister, only to have abandoned when she needed him most. Of course, it hadn't been his choice, but the guilt of leaving her alone in that place had weighed on him for years.

Memories flashed before his eyes, shared meals and playtime, big trusting eyes looking up at him as he soothed her after a particularly terrible nightmare, the screams as she was dragged down that damn sterile hallways towards whatever hellish trial they decided to put her through that day. All of these and so many more terrible memories flooded the forefront of his mind and he started to cry. Fell to his knees and spread his arms wide. Feeling El throw her thin too thin body at him only made him cry that much harder, but it also felt as if a weight had been lifted from his chest. His sister was safe.

After a few minutes he finally calmed down enough to register the fact that El was running her small hand through his hair and murmuring happy little cries of “Six, you’re here. I found you.”

It was another few moments before he realized he was whispering back, broken apologies and platitudes as he squeezed her as tight as he could, as if when he let go she would disappear.

Finally, after what had felt like seconds and centuries all in one, he loosened his hold and pulled back. He first looked at El and took a second to wipe a stray tear from her cheek, before looking up around the room.

Nancy and Jonathan, seeming to have put two and two together, stood looking heartbroken for the two, while everyone else gathered in the ruined living room of the Byers house looked confused and mildly concerned.

Hopper, who had appeared when Steve had first begun crying, was the first person to step forward. He cleared his throat before speaking.

“I- uh- I think I’m missing something here, but I think I also speak for all of us when I sa-”

“What the fuck is happening?” the curly-haired boy from before interjected. Hopper glared at the boy, but then turned back to stare at Steve. Before he could figure out what to say, El stood up from his loose embrace and turned towards the group.

“Six,” she said determinedly, “big brother.” Then, as if that solved everything, she turned back around and sat back in his lap.

If anything though, her three word explanation brough even further scrutiny from the people surrounding them, so Steve cleared his throat.

“So, um, five years ago the Harringtons decided they wanted a kid, an heir to the business dynasty or some sh- thing, but Mrs. Harringrove didn’t want to go through pregnancy. Mr. Hargrove happened to hear whisperings of ‘special children’ and after some heavy lawyering, they ended up with yours truly. Then of course, they found out that ‘special’ meant ‘lab-rats’ and wanted nothing to do with me.”

As he finished the quick and easy version of events that drastically changed his life, silence swallowed the living room and made Steve feel like he was suffocating. And then it was broken by a loud yell of “We have two superhero friends?”

As if a spell had been broken, life flooded back into the house as the kids surrounded Steve until Joyce called out that it was dinner time.

Dinner was a small, casual affair. All of the kids were too busy inhaling the food to ask more questions, and the adults seemed to be biting their tongues. After the food had been cleared away, Steve excused himself, and stumbled out the front door to sit on the patio and have a smoke.

He was halfway through his cigarette when he heard the heavy wooden door swing open and thick boots trudge up behind him. Hopper was then sitting next to him.

“Not the best habit there.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed, offering nothing else. Hopper sighed.

“Listen, kid,” he started before sighing again, and doing something Steve never would have expected in a million years.

He pulled him into a hug. A short one for sure, but still a hug.

“You’ll be okay.”

Maybe he would be, maybe he wouldn’t, but finally, Steve felt that maybe, just maybe, he had finally found a family.

Billy-

Steve was five seconds away from screaming.

Not only was he stuck in a house with four middle schoolers who were just as anxious as him, but he also had to ignore the fact that El was in imminent danger. She was out there risking her life to save the world, and he was stuck on babysitter duty. Of course, it had made sense when they were all brainstorming a plan of attack, but the reality of what it would mean hadn’t set in until El and Hopper were already far away.

He had been in the kitchen, trying to prepare a snack to hopefully relieve some of the anxiety when he heard Lucas.

“Mike, would you just stop already?”

“You weren’t in there. That lab is swarming with hundreds of those dogs.” Steve tried to ignore the way his heart raced at the reminder of where El was headed and stepped into the living room to diffuse the mounting tension.

“Listen, dude, a coach calls a play in a game, bottom line, you execute it, right?” He tried to reason.

“Okay, first of all this isn’t some stupid sports game,” as if he needed a reminder of the absolute shit situation they were all in, “and second of all, we’re not even in the game. We’re on the bench.”

Steve tried to rebound, but what do you say to that? How do you comfort a small gaggle of preteens?

“Right, we’re on the bench, so there’s nothing we can do,” he tried, feeling it fall flat even as he said it.

“Actually,” Dustin chimed in, “That’s not entirely true.” Then they all gathered again to plan a hair-brained scheme that would end with them all dying, and Steve couldn’t get a word in edgewise.

“Hey! Hey! This is not happening,” he said, putting every ounce of authority he could muster in his voice. Once he finally had all of their attention, he continued. “This is so not happening. I promised to keep you shitheads safe, and that’s exactly what I plan on.” Mike just rolled his eyes and continued planning, but Dustin turned to Steve.

“Steve, buddy, don’t you want to help El?” Steve winced, and at the sign of weakness, Dustin went for the jugular. “We could save her. You promised to protect her. So, protect her.”

He opened his mouth, unable to put together an argument, when they all heard the loud roar of an engine revving outside.

The new girl, Max, ran to the front window in a panic, muttering about how ‘he can’t find us here, he’ll kill us.’ Well, shit.

Steve pushed his way to the front of the window and watched as a blue camaro pulled in next to his BMW. This night couldn’t get any worse.

He pushed the kids out of the window and went to confront the biggest douche in Hawkins.

“Am I dreaming, or is that you Harrington?” Billy smirked as he blew out a big cloud of smoke.

“Yeah, it’s me. Don’t cream your pants.” They squabled back and forth, Billy waving his cigarette around obnoxiously, and then he saw his sister in the window and all hell broke loose.

He charged forward, pushing Steve out of the way and charging through the front door. Steve scrambled up after him, and followed hot on his heels. For some reason, Billy targeted Lucas, and Steve saw red.

“You’re dead Sinclaire.”

“No, you are,” Steve said from behind him and then swung. He felt his knuckles connect with the hard bone of Billy’s cheek. He came back up, laughing like a maniac.

“You got some fire in you after all! I’ve been waiting to meet this King Steve everyone’s been telling me so much about,” Billy sneered, blood pouring out of his nose.

But then they heard an ungodly squelching sound, followed by snarling.

A demodog burst through the open front door and lunged for the huddle of kids by the door, and without a thought as to how Billy would react, Steve yelled at the kids to duck, and then shifted. He leapt over the group and landed on four golden paws.

With a mighty roar, Steve charged the demodog and began to fight it, scratching and biting blindly as he tried to kill it. He felt its own claws dig into his side, leaving dark, deep gashes. They were a pretty even match, every attack met with an equally feral response, and Steve could feel himself wearing out. He needed this to end, soon.

As if she had read his mind, suddenly Max was standing next to him and trying to swing the nail bat at the fucker. Steve managed to disengage long enough for her to raise the bat and bring it swiftly down on the monster’s head without himself getting smashed too. Black blood splattered everywhere, matting Steve’s fur and Max’s hair.

It felt as if everyone held their breath as they waited for the demodog to rise again. Moments passed in complete silence until finally, Billy felt safe enough to call out.

“So King Steve is also king of the jungle?”

----

tag team: @lostnoise @gideongrace @stevefuckingharrington @a-magey @trashmouth-hargrove @catharrington @trashycatarcade @myboyfriendsteve @thesummerof84 @lightsupinthenorth (lmk if you would like to be added/removed from the list!)

#tay writes #stranger things #steve harrington #experiment!steve harrington #harringrove #if you squint #or i guess #pre-harringrove

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seriouslyhermione · 5 years ago

Text

Wanna Bet? [1/2]

Summary: After Ron insists Fred doesn't have a chance with Hermione, he decides to put money on it. The bet? Simple: Hermione must agree to go on a date with Fred before the New Year. Fred thinks it should be fairly easy to pull off--as long as Hermione doesn’t kill him when he tells her.

Warnings: Language, American writer attempting to use British slang, mild Ron bashing (necessary for the plot and not exactly ooc)

Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fred Weasley

Word Count: 5.5k

Request: fremione fake-dating??? maybe someone did a bet that fred couldn't date her and everyone was being mean to her bc ron is w lavender and they expected her to be w him, and fred (who has feelings for her obv) is like "not oN MY WATCH" and he's like "let's fake date so we'll get money out of this suckers" idk!!! hi hope you're well

Fred watched Hermione smile the way one might watch a child fall off a training broom after trying to mount it for the first time: fond, pitying, just the slightest bit amused.

None of the others noticed it, the way her eyes didn’t light up in joy or how her smile was a bit too stiff to be natural. But he did. Likely because he had been the only one to elicit a real, genuine grin out of the witch in the past six months or so. He spent enough time staring at her, he should certainly know the difference by now, even if no one else did.

Harry, he would give a pass to as he had his hands a bit full with his godson running around the room and being forced to sit through wedding planning with Molly as Ginny only rolled her eyes in the background. Poor bloke really was stretched thin these days, and Fred knew he still made a conscious effort to reach out to Hermione and include her in his life despite it. Not noticing her silent suffering in a room filled with noisy celebrations was almost understandable, all things considered.

Ron, on the other hand, was on thin fucking ice.

He should have noticed how uncomfortable Hermione was the second he announced that Lavender Brown would be coming to their family Christmas. Should have given in when Hermione politely tried to extract herself from the event in anticipation of the unbearable awkwardness that was sure to come with attending a dinner with your ex-boyfriend, his annoying new (old) girlfriend, and said ex-boyfriend’s entire family.

But then again, Ron did have it right when he (rather untactfully) pointed out that she didn’t exactly have anyone else to spend the holiday with.

He was supposed to be the one who knew her best though, despite their (mostly) amicable break-up nine months ago. They were still friends, after all, and they were better as such anyway. But it would be uncomfortable for anyone to watch their ex-boyfriend/best friend intermittently sneak off with his new girlfriend that he just so happened to have a rather spotty history with, only to come back to engage in conversation about their other best friend’s wedding and oh Won Won, I just love the way the cream napkins set off the lavender table clothes. I do hope we can incorporate that color scheme in our wedding, never mind that they weren’t even engaged.

Fred was feeling rather nauseous himself, if he was being honest, and he had never been in a relationship with either of them. He couldn’t imagine how Hermione felt, standing with her back against the fireplace as though she were just waiting for the opportunity to make a quick escape through the Floo network. But the forced smile and uncomfortable way she was hugging herself as she clutched her wine glass in a vice grip told him enough, even if no one else could be bothered to notice.

“You’re staring again,” a voice nearly identical to his own warned from next to him, and he immediately averted his gaze. But it was too late.

“Still pining, eh Freddy?” Charlie teased, flopping down next to Fred on the sofa, throwing his arm over his shoulders.

George scoffed into his glass of firewhiskey at his other side, and any gratitude Fred held towards him for the too-late warning faded instantly. He caught Bill’s eye from where he sat in the armchair to their left, and his rather wolfish grin told him that he had noticed as well, though he kindly chose not to say anything.

Which was precisely why he was his favorite brother. After George of course.

Well, after George on a good day. Today just happened to not be.

“Of course,” George said, rolling his eyes in what could only be described as fond exasperation. “I don’t know if he could make it more obvious at this point.”

“I am not obvious,” Fred hissed, hoping they would understand and lower their damn voices before they drew even more attention to his unfortunate state of being.

That is to say, his rather inopportunely timed attraction to one Hermione Granger, of course.

“You stare at her,” George said, tone flat and uncharacteristic frown tugging at his lips. “You send her ‘trials’ from the shop like a dedicated husband would send his wife flowers. You have dinner with her once a week just to ‘catch up,’ like either of you are really that interesting—”

“Oi!”

“—and you get this look on your face whenever she laughs, like she’s made your entire day just by existing.”

“Right,” Charlie said, though he sounded a bit unsure. Fred didn’t blame him. No one knew him like George did, and usually his twin had the good grace not to blab his business to anyone else. But apparently his tongue got a little too loose after three glasses of firewhiskey and four months of watching his brother pine after a certain curly-haired witch. “What he said. But you know that nothing can come of it right?”

Fred grit his teeth and ignored the sympathetic look George was pulling in an attempt to convey his own feelings on the subject. He simply sipped at his drink and hoped that his obnoxious and overly intoxicated brothers would find something else to talk about before he lost his temper.

And really, when had that been a problem before? Fred and George were both known for their laid-back and carefree demeanor, but he supposed there had always been something about Hermione Granger that got under his skin and brought out the worst (and best) in him. Thoughts of his fourth year and an attempted attack on Malfoy came to mind, and his lips twitched up without his permission as they so often did when he thought of Hermione.

He really was in trouble, despite his efforts to play it cool. But no one else needed to know that.

“Lay off him,” Bill finally cut in, taking pity on him. “He knows better, no sense in rubbing salt in the wound, yeah?”

And suddenly Percy was Fred’s favorite brother, which was a rather clear indicator of where all of the others currently ranked on his shit list.

“Do I though?” Fred couldn’t resist challenging with a mischievous smirk, if only because he was completely over this conversation and everyone telling him what he can and can’t do and who he can and can’t fancy.

“Fred,” George warned lowly, regret for having started his conversation clear on his face. “Let’s not get into this here, yeah?”

Fred inhaled deeply, ready to concede and make a quick retreat to his room before another voice cut in.

“Get into what?”

All four Weasley brothers turned their head as one to look at their youngest brother. Fred would have been amazed that he had managed to extricate himself from his lovely girlfriend who had a habit of clinging to him like an octopus in heat were he not so concerned that he had just overheard every word they had said leading up to this interruption.

“You’re not talking about ‘Mione, are you?”

Which he had, apparently.

Fred shrugged, feigning indifference even as his heart started beating uncomfortably fast in his chest.

George, ever faithful to his twin, downed the rest of his (rather full) glass of firewhiskey and used the subsequent burning of his throat as an excuse not to respond.

Charlie shifted uncomfortably and looked at a particularly fascinating wall across the room, far away from Ron’s expectant eyes and Hermione’s completely oblivious form, still reclined against the fireplace.

Bill got up and walked away without a word. Fred had always suspected he was the smartest of them all.

“You are!” Ron exclaimed, and Fred braced for the impact of his anger, fingers twitching against his wand in anticipation of casting a silencing charm before he could cause a scene. But then Ron was laughing, and Fred almost wished he would yell at him instead.

“C’mon mate,” Ron chortled, falling gracelessly into the seat Bill had vacated. “Hermione? You can’t be serious!”

“Careful there, Won Won,” George cautioned when Fred only raised a brow in a bid to keep things from escalating and catching the attention of a certain witch. “We haven’t questioned your current… romantic interests. You would do well to return the favor.”

Ron snorted and Fred felt his temper rise in kind.

“Relax, I’m not trying to start anything. Just surprised is all,” Ron answered, voice a bit calmer, though the amusement was still clear on his face. Fred knew that he really had gotten a better handle on his temper after the war, but he suspected his laidback attitude had less to do with self-control and more to do with a complete lack of concern. He tried not to be offended by the implication.

“I mean, really. Hermione?” Ron said again, as though just repeating her name would make Fred realize how hopeless it was. As though he didn’t already know. “I couldn’t make it work with her, and we’ve certainly got more in common than the two of you would. It just doesn’t make sense.”

Try as he might, Fred was officially offended. And when Fred was offended (and admittedly, slightly inebriated), he tended to make poor decisions.

“Oh really? Care to make a wager?”

Ron scoffed, George paled, Charlie choked on his drink, and Bill circled back around to listen in at a careful distance. Fred didn’t care. Ron was being a git—to both him and Hermione—and if he had to do something that was extremely likely to blow up in his face to make a point well… no one had ever accused him of making sensible decisions, had they?

“A wager? What are you on about now?”

“Well, Won Won, you just implied that Hermione would never date me,” Fred answered, speaking slowly in the way he knew made Ron feel like a bit of an idiot. Which he often was. “I think you’re wrong. Are you willing to put money on it?”

“Fred,” George cut in as Ron’s face turned an alarming shade of red, “I don’t think this is a great idea. Maybe just let it go, yeah?”

For the briefest moment, Fred considered taking his twin’s advice. He was, after all, the closest thing Fred had to a voice of reason.

But then, from across the room, Fred heard a simpering voice—

“Oh Hermione, didn’t you bring someone with you? You look so lonely over there all by yourself!”

—and he knew that this had to stop, one way or another.

“No, George, I don’t think I will let this go. If Ron is so sure that Hermione would never be interested in me, then what does he have to lose by putting a little money on it?”

Of course, Fred was smart enough to know that there was plenty of things wrong with making Hermione the object of a bet, but he also knew that he would deal with that after he wiped that smug look off of Ron’s face.

And if the fierce frown on his bright red face was anything to go by, Fred had already succeeded there.

“Alright, fine,” Ron seethed, “if you want to be a git about it, sure. Twenty galleons says you can’t get Hermione to go on a date with you by the end of the year. Deal?”

Fred knew he should refuse—twenty galleons was a lot of money, New Year’s Eve was only six days away, Hermione would kill him when she found out—but what he said was, “Done.”

And then he stood up and strode over to the woman of his dreams without another word and, realistically speaking, without a hope in the world of getting her to agree to a date with him once she knew what he’d done.

.:.

The holidays were the hardest, Hermione knew.

At first, it was just the reminder of all they had lost during the war. Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Dumbledore, Moody, even Snape. Her parents were the worst though. Despite the fact they were both alive and perfectly happy in Australia, it stung to know that they would never know they once had a daughter who had to erase their memories of her to keep them safe.

(And, if she were being honest, that’s what hurt the most—knowing they were so happy without her, even if she was relieved that they were able to live safely without knowledge of her world.)

But it also reminded them of what they still had but very nearly lost.

Fred, who was in a coma for weeks before finally waking up after the wall collapsed on him.

Lavender, who Greyback had mauled, but had thankfully been ripped away by Hermione’s hex before he could do any fatal damage.

Which brought her to why holidays still sucked, three years after the war and nearly a year after her split from Ron.

“Oh Won Won, come over quick! There’s mistletoe in the kitchen that I didn’t notice before!”

Hermione was over Ron, she really was. After two years of giving it their best, their relationship never did feel as comfortable as it had when they were just friends: they fought too much and shared so little in common interests once defeating Voldemort was taken out of the equation. He could never follow her when she talked about her workday or projects she was working on, and it only served to make him feel stupid and lash out.

They really just weren’t suited for domestic bliss, something they had both finally admitted and come to terms with. Luckily, they were still friends thanks to this mutual understanding.

However, there were certainly downsides to remaining close friends with your ex, and one of those happened to be sitting through an awkward holiday celebration where said ex swapped a concerning amount of spit and wedding talk with a woman she had once been terribly jealous of.

Now, it was just annoying and uncomfortable, watching a family she considered her own in so many ways fawn over Ron’s new girlfriend and leave her to hold up the fireplace all on her own without so much as a “How have you been Hermione?”.

It was preferable to conversation though, as whenever she did engage it was always met with comments like oh Hermione, you really would have made such a beautiful bride, but I suppose it’s all for the best now or Hermione, did you know that Lavender works in the Ministry as well? She’s already been promoted after a year! Isn’t that just so impressive.

She knew they (as in Molly Weasley specifically of course) meant well, but it still stung to be treated like old news when she had been assured (and perhaps foolishly believed) that she was still family, with or without her relationship to Ron.

She was beginning to think staying at home alone would have been preferable after all.

“Hello, Ms. Granger.”

Her head whipped around, shocked out of her silent self-pitying by Fred Weasley’s smooth baritone and warmth as he sidled up next to her, firewhiskey clutched tight in one hand while the other draped itself across her shoulder. Her lips twitched up without prompting, perhaps the first genuine smile of the night, even if it was a rather pathetic one.

“Fred,” she greeted in return. “I take it you’re enjoying yourself?”

“Not really,” he answered in that casual way of his even though his eyes appeared to be piercing straight to her soul in their intensity. “Just came away from a rather unfortunate conversation with Ickle Ronniekins.”

Hermione glanced over Fred’s shoulder, unconsciously looking for the spot across the living room where she had been stealing occasional glances at Fred (and the rest of the Weasley brothers of course) throughout the night. What she found were three Weasley men staring at them in intense captivation and a fourth with seething irritation, and she winced in sympathy. She couldn’t imagine what sort of “unfortunate conversation” resulted in a stare down like this, but she knows that she feels bad for Fred for being on the receiving end of it. Even if he did probably deserve it.

“Oh Merlin,” she sighed in what can only be described as fond exasperation—a common occurrence since she started to become better acquainted with Fred. “What have you done now?”

“Something I probably shouldn’t have,” he replied before draining the rest of his firewhiskey in one gulp and turning to face her more fully, completely obscuring her view of their audience.

She only raised a single eyebrow, a practiced move that typically had Harry and Ron spilling their guts but only served to make Fred’s lips twitch in amusement.

Though he did appear almost… nervous. A strange look for Fred Weasley, and one that made her a little apprehensive of what exactly he did do. But in the blink of an eye, the look was gone and suddenly his face was much closer to her own.

“In the spirit of honesty,” he murmured, the whisper of his words brushed against the shell of her ear, the warmth of his breath on her skin and the smell of the Firewhiskey on his tongue causing an involuntary shiver to run down her spine, “I need to tell you something.”

“Oh?” she returned, trying to keep an air of calm unaffectedness despite the goosebumps that started where his lips had brushed against her skin and spread down her neck like wildfire. She sipped on her wine and stared at the Christmas tree that she could just see over Fred’s broad shoulder, pretending that her attention wasn’t entirely focused on Fred and the way his lips were still so close to her now hyper-sensitive skin. And if his responding chuckle was any indication, he very well knew it.

“Mmmm,” he hummed, the sound and vibration causing a flush to rise to her cheeks in a way she hoped could be attributed to the drink in her hand and not the man draped across her. Honestly, how had no one noticed that he was practically absorbing her into his own body at this point? Were they all really that oblivious or was she simply imagining things? Or were the four Weasley brothers still just watching this rather strange show in silent fascination, placing bets on what would happen next? “But I can’t tell you here.”

He pulled back abruptly, and Hermione instantly felt bereft of his heat, though the feeling was immediately chased away by her annoyance at that fact. It took her a moment to even recall what it was he was saying (which was, admittedly, not much).

“And why not?” she shot back once she remembered that this was supposed to be a normal conversation with her ex-boyfriend’s brother, not an exhibition.

Fred’s grin was decidedly predatory, and Hermione tried her best to not relish in that fact but Merlin, had he always been this attractive, or was the wine getting to her?

“A couple reasons. But the one that really matters right now is that it’ll really piss Ron off if we disappear upstairs together. So, what do you say?”

Hermione knew it was petty of her to get a little thrill out of causing one of her oldest friends any sort of irritation, but after the last four hours of standing by the fireplace with only backhanded compliments or outright insults for company, well… her answer was fairly obvious.

“Your room then?”

Fred’s grin only widened as she polished off the last of her wine, set the glass on the mantle, and led the way up the stairs.

If she had glanced back, she would have seen four identical looks of shock on Bill, Charlie, George, and Ron’s faces as she silently reached back and snatched up Fred’s hand on the way.

As it was, she kept her head held high and shoulders thrown back as she tugged Fred up the stairs, trying desperately to appear calm and collected despite the nerves that were tying her stomach in knots as she considered just what it was Fred wanted to confess to her.

.:.

“So,” Hermione starts as soon as Fred has closed the door behind them, “What do you need to tell me?”

If Fred had looked slightly nervous before, he looks positively anxious now. All the smug amusement that had previously dominated his face was gone, and he stood with his arms crossed and back against the door, almost as far from where she stood in the center of the room as he could get. The change was off putting, to say the least.

She frowned when he didn’t say anything for a long moment. “Is everything all right, Fred?”

His lips pursed and for a moment she thought he really wasn’t going to tell her what this was all about, but then he said, “I’m not sure yet. I have a feeling you’re about to be very angry with me,” and she was both relieved and anxious all at once.

“Well,” she said after a moment, “best to just get it over with then.”

Fred looked like he didn’t agree with her, but he ploughed on regardless. “I made a bet with Ron.” When she didn’t respond in the pregnant pause that followed, he continued. “It involved you.”

“Involved me how, exactly?” Hermione cut in when it seemed like he really was going to leave it there. And if her voice came out sharper than she intended, Fred didn’t appear to notice, too caught up in trying to figure out how to say whatever it was he had to say.

He took a deep breath, then, and let it out in a rush of air: “I bet him twenty galleons that I could get you to go on a date with me by the end of the year.”

Whatever Hermione was expecting to hear, it certainly wasn’t that and all she could think to say in response was a startled “What?”

And though she had to pull the truth out of Fred sentence by sentence before, the words came pouring out of him now.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know it was a stupid thing to do. But I was just so tired of Ron acting like he’s the authority on you and telling me what I could and couldn’t do. As though he really knows you that well, considering he practically forced you into attending a party you knew would be uncomfortable and then does absolutely nothing to make it easier on you. The bloke is completely oblivious ninety percent of the time, but anytime I try to talk to you or ‘take your side,’ suddenly he’s there and telling me to back off. Like he’s the only one that has a right to show any interest in you despite the fact you haven’t been in a relationship for nearly a year and you’ve barely even seen each other since. Not that I blame you of course. I’d rather not see him myself, especially when he’s constantly attached at the hip with that whiny little girlfriend of his. I mean, I suppose she wouldn’t be that bad if she could just stop talking about herself or her dear Won Won for more than a bloody minute. Honestly, George and I thought you and Ginny were exaggerating your sixth year, but obviously—”

“Fred Weasley,” Hermione finally cut it once it was clear this confession had gone off the rails completely. “Are you rambling?”

“No,” Fred shot back defensively, followed by a less sure, “well, maybe.”

“Definitely,” she corrected, grinning widely.

She was somehow thoroughly amused rather than irritated as she knew she should be. Being the object of a bet between her ex and his brother should have infuriated her completely. Especially when it concerned her love life, something neither of them had any right to even discuss.

But this was Fred. Fred who was kind to her when everyone else in the Weasley family (save Ginny) was too afraid of Molly’s wrath to even speak to her during the first month after her break up with Ron. Fred who sent her “care packages” that consisted mostly of WWW products that she would never use but appreciated for their brilliance. Fred who went out of his way to make her feel included during the few Weasley family meals she still attended. Fred who was often on the receiving end of Ron’s glare as a result. Fred who made her smile for the first time that night. Fred who touched her so lightly but incited a warmth in her that she hadn’t felt in ages. Fred who was so much taller than her, and warmhearted and funny and clever and brilliant and—

Dear God, did she have a crush on Fred Weasley?

Well… that changed things a bit.

She bit her lip, suddenly unsure of whether the plan forming in her mind was wise or not. Hermione really wasn’t one to rush into things or make a decision without thinking through all of the possible outcomes, but well… Fred was still staring at her with cautious, heartbreaking brown eyes and he looked so earnest and Ron really was being a bit of a git.

And if even one outcome resulted in her and Fred being happy—possibly even together—then she was willing to risk it. She was a Gryffindor after all.

“Twenty galleons you say?”

Fred blinked at her as though he didn’t understand. “Uh, yeah. Twenty galleons. That was what we bet.”

“Seems like a lot,” she teased, smile slowly forming on her lips as she became more confident in her decision. “You must be very invested in my love life.”

Fred narrowed his eyes at her, entirely aware that she was taking the mickey out of him. But he answered her with a seriousness that sobered her quickly. “You could say that.”

“Well…” she swallowed, unsure of how to take that but hoping it meant what she thought it did. “I assume we’d split it then?”

“Of course,” Fred answered, though he suddenly looked uncertain, as though he couldn’t possibly imagine where she was taking this. “It’s only fair.”

“Then are you free tomorrow?”

“Am I—what?”

Hermione’s smile only grew, finding Fred’s confusion endearing. She had never seen him so shaken before, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy it.

“Are you free? For our date? I know it’s short notice, but he didn’t exactly give us much time to work with, and the sooner the better.”

This may have had something to do with her fear that she would overthink it if given more time, but he didn’t need to know that.

“You’re serious?” Fred asked, looking like he had just been told Percy was quitting his job at the Ministry to become a pole dancer. “You’re not mad at me? You’re actually agreeing to go on a date with me?”

“Well, first of all, I’m not agreeing to do anything. I’m asking you to go on a date with me—a distinction you may want to make clear to Ronald,” Hermione corrected, smile turning less teasing and more sly. “And while I do wish you would have consulted me first, I understand that that wasn’t exactly an option at the time. And… I appreciate your honesty. You didn’t have to be up front with me—you could have just offered to take me on a date and I would have had no idea it was with ulterior intentions. So… yes, Fred Weasley. I would like to go on a date with you. If not for the ten galleons, then to see the look on Ronald’s face when I tell him.”

“And for my stimulating company, of course?” Fred waggled his eyebrows, looking much more like himself than he did only moments ago. Hermione’s heart warmed at the sight, pleased that she had that effect on him.

“But of course,” Hermione practically purred, her voice taking on a quality it had never possessed before. One that made Fred’s face flush and his heart beat erratically. “And make no mistake, Fred Weasley. Even if we’re going on this date to win a bet and prove your brother wrong, it will be a real one. I expect you to plan something nice, all right?”

“I can do that,” Fred agreed easily, grin only growing. “On my honor as a wizard, it will be the best date you’ve ever been on Hermione Granger.”

Her responding grin was just as bright. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Shall we then?” Fred asked after a pause that seemed to increase the temperature of the room by about ten degrees. He opened the door wide, gesturing grandly for her to go through first. Hermione rolled her eyes but walked through without complaint. Fred’s grin only brightened.

That is, until they reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Mistletoe,” Hermione breathed as she came to a sudden, jarring stop at the bottom of the stairs, her gaze locked on the offending bit of magical flora that floated above their heads.

Fred’s gaze, however, was locked on a face nearly identical to his own, though his twin was smirking rather than glaring as Fred was. Next to him, Ron appeared ready to combust.

“I’m sorry,” Fred apologized immediately, gaze turning soft and pleading as he turned to look down at her. “I had no idea—”

“I know,” she answered, already guessing at who had moved this wonderful bit of magic to trap them at the bottom of the stairs. Normally, she would be angry that yet another choice had been made for her. But after three glasses of wine, an intense conversation with Fred, and the promise of a wonderful date tomorrow, she was feeling a bit reckless. “Might as well let them know my answer now.”

“What are you—”

She cut him off with a press of her lips to his still-open mouth, and though she had initially intended for it to be chaste, she used the opportunity to slip her tongue inside and taste him properly. His answering groan told her she had made the right decision.

It was a bit uncomfortable, as far as first kisses go. He was a step above her on the stairs, and as he was already taller than her, it meant she had to stretch up on her tiptoes and yank him down by the collar to even reach him. Not to mention she could practically feel the eyes of their friends and family boring into her back. But when Fred stepped down and tugged her closer, never breaking free of her hold on him, they really found their stride.

She had no idea how long they stood there, her fists clenched tightly in his jacket and his cinching her waist despite his overwhelming desire to bury them in her hair, their lips moving and caressing each other seamlessly; but eventually someone cleared their throat and she pulled away with a pop that would have embarrassed her if Fred weren’t currently looking at her as though she was the best thing he had ever tasted.

“Well,” Hermione said after an awkward beat of silence, turning to find that everyone in the room had stopped what they were doing to stare at them, eyes wide and mouths gaping. “It’s been lovely, but I think I’ll go home. Thanks for everything Molly, Arthur.” She nodded to his parents as she separated from him, heading directly for the Floo.

She picked up a handful of powder, ready to throw it into the fireplace, before she turned back to face him at the last second, grin mischievous. The sight nearly brought him to his knees. “Oh, and I’ll see you tomorrow Fred. What time are you picking me up?”

“Six?” he suggested, lips curving up to match hers as his family continued to watch them in a sort of stunned fascination.

“I’ll see you at six then,” she agreed before disappearing is a swirl of green flames.

Another tense silence followed her departure, and Fred took great pains to not meet the eyes of anyone in the room. If they were horrified, surprised, or disgusted, he really didn’t care to know. He had just snogged Hermione Granger senseless, and he planned on ridding this high as long as possible.

“I think I’ll head out too,” Fred decided, sparing his twin one last glance as he made his way to the fireplace. “See you at the flat, George.”

In the seconds it took him to grip the Floo powder and throw it down, the room seemed to come back to life. Molly Weasley started screaming questions at him so fast he couldn’t even begin to decipher them, Ron called out “What in the bloody hell was that?”, Charlie was applauding, Ginny was wolf whistling, but Fred didn’t care. He was already flying through the Floo Network, hoping that no one (save George) was stupid enough to follow him.

He had an important date to plan, after all. And if he had any hope of getting Hermione to agree to a second one, it had to be perfect.

Notes: This got a bit longer than I meant it to, so it's split into two parts. The second part should come later this week. Any thoughts on what our lovebirds should do on their date?

#harry potter #hp fanfic #fremione #Fred Weasley x Hermione granger #fred weasley #hermione granger #fremione fanfic #fake dating #christmas fluff #mild ron x lavender #lavender is obnoxious #ron is a bit of an ass #sorry #I know its a terrible tropee #but it's so easy to use #and furthers the plot nicely #my writing #requested #hope you enjoy

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