#but i got the badges so it was all worth it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lo1k-diamonds · 2 months ago

Text

Stellar Behavior 💜 Part 1

“What is worth an innocent’s life? You decide.”

PAIRING: Officer!Yoongi x Mafia (f)reader

SUMMARY: Yoongi has been in the police force for long enough to know that the system isn’t perfect, so when an injustice is about to put his protégé in jail, he has no other choice but to go to you. You’re the devil, but you’re hard to resist, and he needs to decide between falling into temptation or showing you that two can play the game.

WORD COUNT: 4.8k

GENRE: Gangster AU, Law AU, enemies to lovers, smut

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: corruption, power dynamics, blackmail, threats w/ a knife, slight degradation, sexual favors, oral (f rec)

A.N. I'm soooo excited, this fic is 🔥 Infinite thank yous to @moonleeai and @downbad4yoongi for working through my crazy and being incredible! Enjoy 🔥🔥

Masterlist | Masterpost | AO3 | Wattpad | Next Chapter >

Yoongi huffed and threw his eyeglasses onto the keyboard, rubbing his eyes so roughly he saw lights. It was no use; no matter how much he went over the evidence, again and again, he couldn’t change it.

“Hyung.”

He uncovered his eyes, only to be met with Taehyung’s sadness. His shoulders sagged from the sleepless nights ever since Jimin had gotten arrested, with dark circles bringing even more desolation to his otherwise heavenly features. He knew it wasn’t Taehyung’s intention, but the sight only unnerved Yoongi even more.

“Go home, get some sleep.”

Taehyung flinched, “But—”

“That’s an order, Officer.”

Taehyung stiffened and instantly bowed and showed his respects to his Superintendent before turning and leaving. Only then did Yoongi heave a deep breath and observe around him. It was weird seeing his department at the police station empty, without the officers at their desks taking calls or doing paperwork while on one of their 24-hour shifts. But they had all been shaken up, and so he had sent them home.

He was proud of his Division, and as their Chief, he couldn’t be more certain of everyone’s conduct and character. This included Jimin’s, and it was the reason why he was losing his mind over this case.

No matter how much he reviewed the footage and evidence, there was no mistake — Officer Jimin had seemingly shot his partner dead during an arrest gone wrong. This was a natural conclusion, judging by the body camera of the now deceased cop, Officer Junghee, that had captured Jimin nearing him with a fuming pistol in his hand. One that matched the ballistics report on Yoongi’s desk.

This was why the prosecution wanted to charge him with manslaughter at the very least, but Yoongi could not be convinced. The body camera also captured the panic in Officer Jimin’s voice and expression as he tried to save his downed partner. Yoongi didn’t care if that was Jimin’s gun or if it was fuming in his hand — he didn’t believe it.

“It wasn’t me!” The words Jimin shouted as he was arrested conveyed an absolute world of hurt and combined with the shock in Jimin’s eyes was seared into Yoongi’s retinas, causing him to dig the heel of his hands into his eyes again. But no matter how much he attempted to change the image, it wouldn’t. Jimin, his protégé, was still being handcuffed and taken away while begging, “I didn’t, you have to believe me! He put it in my hands! Hyung!”

Yoongi nudged his eyeglasses off the keyboard, locked his computer, and grabbed his coat. On long nights like these, he didn’t bother staying in uniform, only wearing black pants with a white shirt and his badge and holster belt. He made his way outside and got into his car, acknowledging whoever he met along the way. Temperatures were freezing, and his car didn’t start immediately. He reached for his nicotine gum while he waited for the car to warm up. When it finally started, so did the 3 AM news on the radio right as he left the parking lot.

“In a shocking revelation, an officer from the Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency shot his partner dead after pulling up to a suspicious vehicle in Dongjak District. The mounting evidence is undeniable, and the prosecution is discussing the potential penalty in such a case, with the spokesperson revealing in a press conference that while mistakes happen, justice needs to be served.”

Yoongi kept chewing and driving as the prosecutor’s voice echoed through the speakers. On the outside, Yoongi was the picture of calm, cool, and collected, but inside, he was fuming. He had spoken with the prosecutor many times, who preferred a clean-cut arrest to build his case to run for whatever political role he was after rather than fight for justice, as he claimed. Yoongi had always known that multiple interests abound in the justice system, but now he was starting to get pissed.

When he parked the car, he looked outside through the windshield, observing quietly as the people moved in and out of the Aether. The bouncers kept drunks at bay, and despite the booming music and the flashy lights, everything looked normal for a nightclub.

He removed his belt and badge, shoving them in the glove compartment so hard that something fell out. He reached to grab it from the floor, his frown instantly turning into a scowl. It was a photo of him hugging a woman, laughing, taken many years ago when they were still happy. When they were not even married yet, let alone divorced.

He got out of the car and ripped the photo into as many tiny pieces as possible, dropping the scraps in a trashcan along with his gum. Then he stopped in front of the bouncers with his hands in his pockets, saying six little special words.

“I want to see the boss.”

The first bouncer just scoffed a laugh and shook his head, but the second one eyed him from head to toe, “If you’re here to inspect, then you have to identify yourself first.”

“Not an inspection,” Yoongi said nonchalantly, glancing around. “It’s not an official visit.”

The smirking bouncer kept the flow of the people going in and out while the serious one, resembling the first almost to a T, pressed his earpiece further into his ear, waiting for orders. Yoongi had noticed the cameras already while he was walking up, and he wondered how long it would take for them to know exactly who he was and why he was there.

The serious bouncer moved closer to him, “Are you armed?”

“No.”

“I have to make sure.”

Yoongi glanced at him, then nodded, raising his hands as he let the man make sure he was unarmed. When the tall man rose from his knees after checking Yoongi’s ankles, he lowered his arms and waited for the goon to catch his breath.

“Alright, you can go in.”

He moved past the bouncers and into the entryway, but he hadn’t even made it to the coat check when someone approached him. Just by the light clothing, styled hair, and badge hanging on his belt, Yoongi could immediately tell that the man worked there.

“Follow me.”

Yoongi wasn’t there to sightsee, but he could appreciate the columns and marble structures and statues. Along with the paintings, velvet curtains, and carpets, it made the Aether look like a temple or divine abode of the Gods. The aesthetic intensified as they went up the stairs, but he didn’t have time to register much. In a second, he was walking into what appeared like an ordinary office — a pleasant space with a large desk at the center in front of huge dark windows that showed the lights flashing from the dance floor. He ignored the liquor table, the cabinets with files, and the black velvet sofas to the side. What his eyes were immediately drawn to was you — you who had pushed the large computer screen to the side so you could watch him come in. Your chin rested graciously on your intertwined fingers, with your elbows on the desk, eyes flickering with amusement, watching him through dark curled lashes. He hadn’t even noticed he had walked to your desk or that the door had closed behind him, but then you stood up, letting your delicate arms fall alongside your tight black dress. Your black, straight hair slid over your shoulders, framing the plunging cleavage of your dress, and when you smiled, he felt hot—molten hot.

“Welcome, Superintendent,” you smiled with a glint of amusement, your perfect teeth shining in the overhead light, and he clenched his fists behind his back. “Or should I say Yoongi? I was told you weren’t here in an official capacity, but…” You eyed him from head to toe, and he did his best to stay poised and calm. “You don’t look like you’re here to club.”

Yoongi was already sweating, not out of nervousness but because of you. Because you always eyed him like you owned him, always had a hint of mischief to every smile, and were always as elusive as a ghost. One he couldn’t catch and had grown tired of running after.

Still, hearing his name in your mouth for the first time… made him pull on the collar of his shirt, “Not here to party; I’m here on business.”

Your eyebrow twitched, and he looked at you seriously; you were a cunning fox of the worst kind. Worse than a weed, than a pest, than the bloody smoke still hanging in the air and making his fingers twitch. He had a simple goal, and he had to stay focused.

“Not an official visit, but you��re here on business…” you mused out loud then shrugged. “Soon, it will be four in the morning,” you revealed with a hint of disdain as you neared the table that held liquor in crystal decanters. “Surely, if you wanted to do something official, you’d wait at least three more hours?” You chuckled as you poured a finger of whiskey into a glass. “Want some?” He shook his head, and you shrugged again. You made your way back to your desk, but instead of going around it, you perched on the side of it, close enough for him to see your dress parting, giving hints of your upper thighs, “What can I do for you, Chief?”

Yoongi had nerves of steel; he ignored the lush skin of your thighs, the cleavage, the numbing sound reverberating through the walls, the dimmed lights, and the way your eyes seemed to challenge him with every blink.

He focused, “I want your help.”

Your eyes widened comically, the image of innocence and confusion, “Mine? What could such a powerful person need from me?”

Thankfully, your coy attitude irritated him and helped him concentrate. “I know the suspicious car they were chasing was one of yours.”

Your eyes widened even more, but this time, you brought your glass to your lips to hide a smile, “My, my, Officer. I know I have many cars, but to say I was a fugitive—”

“You know what I mean,” his jaw clenched, and you licked your lips.

“I don’t,” you could only smile, and he clenched his fists again. There it was. It pissed the fuck out of him. “Are you going to arrest me, Chief? Make good use of those deduction skills of yours and put pretty handcuffs around my wrists?”

He hated that his heart jumped in his chest as you whispered salaciously and leaned into him, shortening the distance between you. He hated how tempting you looked, and he hated the way your eyes fixed on his, as if you were ready to follow suit with your provocation. You were probably a tease like that with everyone all the time. It pissed him off even more.

He only blinked, ever the master of showing a relaxed demeanor, “I have no evidence to arrest you, nor am I here in that capacity.”

It instantly hit him, as you straightened your back and finished the drink in your hand, that he was going to have to ask for your help. Not outsmart you, not convince you, not squabble with half facts and hunches — he needed your help and that meant he had to come down off his pedestal.

“My— An officer from my team will be sentenced for something he didn’t do. I’m out of options; I’ve hit a dead-end.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line as you put down the empty glass, “Don’t tell me — the system he holds and protects with his life won’t even try to prove his innocence.”

His jaw clenched; he hated that you weren’t completely wrong. “I’m trying to prove his innocence.”

The corners of your mouth twitched in a smile. “What makes you think I can help?”

He kept his mouth closed for a thoughtful moment. There was no use in accusing you again. Your smile wasn’t sly, so he decided to go for it. “You’re one of the biggest players.”

“Me?” You acted surprised, “I just own a few businesses here and there…”

“They say you’re the one to contact for information.” You tilted your head, and he insisted, “Even if that wasn’t your car, you’d know about it because it was on your turf. You’re you. I just know you know something that can help us solve this.”

That answer seemed to satisfy you because your lips and eyes revealed a small yet genuine smile that caught his breath. It made him realize he was leaning towards you now, exposing himself like that, but he couldn’t bring himself to hate it. Not when you looked at him like that, feeding into his hope.

“Say I do,” you started, eyes fixed on his. “Say I have evidence that could exonerate Officer Park.” He snapped straight; he had never told you the name of the Officer, and the media didn’t know it either. Yet what got him were your words, “Why would I help you?”

He clenched his jaw so hard that his teeth clicked. He just about growled with the way irritation mixed with his desperation, making him reel.

“Come on, Chief. Talk to me,” you pressed, wanting him to push through both the shock and the stick up his ass. “You must be desperate enough if you’re asking for my help, and I’m not denying it. I’m saying I might have what you need. What would you do to save an innocent from prison for life or worse?”

He didn’t think, “You have it? Something that could undeniably prove his innocence?”

He knew before he was done asking that it was impossible and that he was acting crazy. Yet, you leaned into him, meeting him halfway, your breath hitting his chin, “In those exact words? I do.” You sat back and let your words sink in, not knowing they gave him a full-body shudder. He always knew you were powerful and had your ways, but holy shit— “What do you have that I want?”

He opened his mouth but instantly closed it. Objectively, he had nothing. But maybe there was something he could do. First, though, he needed to know it was real. “What evidence do you have? Show it to me—”

“Hmmm, no,” you pressed your lips and twisted your nose, displeased. “That’s not how this works. This is based on trust. Besides, you don’t seem to have anything to offer.”

For a split second, he wondered if you were bullshitting him, but he honestly didn’t care. He had to do something. “You want something concrete for a maybe?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” your tone hardened as your expression lost humor.

“Alright, name it. Tell me what is worth your help.”

His tone was soft, and it worked to soothe you. His dark eyes helped; there was so much willingness in them, and you liked that. The man there asking for your help to correct an injustice was the kind of man you were looking for.

“Since you asked,” you cheekily started, pulling your hair behind your shoulders. “I want three things.” He didn’t even blink, so you continued, “The first is a favor. Of my choice and at my discretion whenever I shall need it. The second is for you to get on your knees. And the third is for you to eat.”

He blinked, “What?” He looked down to follow your hands over your thighs, and you spread your legs for him, though the black dress covered between them. He shook his head in bewilderment, “You’re crazy!”

“Crazy?” You chuckled, “I think I’m being quite reasonable.”

“You— Do you hear what you’re asking?”

He sounded breathless and could feel the heat on his cheeks, which was not ideal. He almost managed to step back, but a quirk of your eyebrow kept him still — he needed that evidence.

“Oh my, Chief Min. Are you getting heated at the thought of a couple of favors?” He scoffed, and you continued your tease, “Or is it the knees? Too proud to beg?”

“No, not too proud,” he mumbled between teeth. He was ready to kneel on the floor and beg, and the heat rising in his neck told him the rest wasn’t a problem either. And that was the problem. “The favor—” He cleared his throat, scratching it, “What is the favor?”

“I don’t know yet,” you shrugged, and it seemed to him like it didn’t matter. He knew that couldn’t be true, that had to be what you were really after — something specific from the Superintendent of the Seoul Metropolitan Police. And yet your eyes were shining in such a way that he almost forgot who you were. Almost.

“Something illegal, no doubt.”

You sighed and he took the moment to let the anger cool him — you were a criminal about to use his good intentions to surely accomplish something even worse. Instead of cooling him, irritation made him snap his knuckles and shift on his feet.

“I don’t know what it is, but it shouldn’t matter,” you said more coldly, squinting your eyes. “What is worth an innocent’s life? You decide.”

There was a hint of impatience in your tone that only riled him up more. He turned to you, “What’s stopping me from just—”

“You’re not that stupid,” you interrupted, raising your chin. His eyes noticed the surveillance cameras and you smirked, “They’re not who you should be concerned about.”

Your smile was predatory but he scoffed. You didn’t need to threaten him, and he didn’t like the coercion. He refused to look at you for a moment, giving you the impression that he was weighing his options. In reality, he was figuring out what angered him more — the fact that he was about to make a deal with a devil like you, or that he was that turned on from it.

You huffed and got off the desk, your heels clicking on the floor like a timer had just gone off. “Never mind—”

He grabbed your arm to keep you from walking away, and in a second, something sharp was poking his lower stomach. You both froze in place, your gaze angry and fixed on his, while his heart raced inside his chest. He didn’t let go of your arm, and you didn’t lower your knife.

“I never heard a yes from those pretty lips, so…” you spoke quietly, then pressed the blade harder. “Hands off.”

He knew you could put your money where your mouth was, and that if you wanted to kill him and get rid of him, you would. Yet, his grip didn’t lessen as he observed you. He was still trying to figure things out — not what to do, but you. He hated you objectively; you represented everything wrong with the world. Jimin was innocent; you shouldn’t be bargaining for his life, you should do the right thing. But you weren’t, you wanted to play with fire. Maybe even to get burned.

“What is it…” he started quietly, still eying your angry eyes. “Is it the risk? The humiliation? The footage for blackmailing me later? The power over a figure of authority?”

You scoffed, leaning in to answer just as quietly, “No risk, Chief. The footage might be insurance, but you’re a man of your word. No power over you because you’ll be doing it willingly. And no humiliation,” you chuckled. “It’s a privilege to eat at this table. Although…” You looked down, then smirked. “I can play if that’s what you like.”

He looked away from your eyes for the first time and almost flinched; his pants had a tent. He couldn’t even think; why was his body betraying him like this? He tried pulling away and letting you go, but you pressed the tip of your knife harder.

“Nuh-uh,” you whispered, taking a deep breath a little closer to his neck. “I heard the missus left cause you couldn’t get it up, but won’t you look at that—” Your tone was sly, and he gripped your arm harder in retaliation. You laughed, “I guess she just didn’t know how to play. Or maybe you like this,” your voice lowered wantonly, and a shiver ran up his spine as though he was starting to attune to it. “Like not having a choice, to be in danger, to be forced to do something reprehensible.”

He had to lick his lips because for a second he thought he was drooling, “I have a choice.”

You smiled and his cock twitched, “Then choose.”

He eyed your smile and leaned into you, but you chuckled and playfully pressed the tip of the knife to impose distance, ignoring the red droplets tainting the fabric.

“On your knees, Chief.”

His eyes snapped to yours, and he pulled you by the arm, disregarding the blade, so you’d walk back until the back of your thighs hit the desk. Then, he gripped your hips and helped you on the desk, fisting your dress in the same movement to get it out of the way as he kneeled between your legs. Your knife had slipped from your hand as you rested them on the desk for support, and you didn’t think to pick it back up. You wanted him to eat you and mean it, but he was going above and beyond — nuzzling your thighs and inhaling your scent, frantically fighting with your dress, and trying to pry your legs further apart so he could have access.

When his nose poked your clit, you jumped in place, and his fingers dug into your hips, even through the fabric of the dress. Just looking at the way he was fighting to get his mouth on you was positively melting you, but you wanted it to actually happen.

“Slide them down,” you breathed after he nuzzled and licked your core through your panties enough times to cover you with goosebumps.

He immediately obliged, and you shimmied to help him get rid of them. He threw them on the floor, then gripped your legs apart before giving you a look that seared you in place. You didn’t know what it was, but you were living for it, and the excitement burned your gut. The Superintendent looked like a piece of forbidden heaven between your thighs; who knew he’d have you melting like this just at the hint of doing what you asked?

A smirk spread on your lips as he kept struggling with your dress, until suddenly — rip. He bunched the fabric and pulled it, causing the slit that revealed your thigh to rip, and you chuckled. You liked that energy, that hunger; the way he was willing to destroy to have his way. Instantly, he had free leeway to uncover your core and press his mouth, rolling his tongue all over your slick folds.

You jolted with a sigh, gripping his hair at the back of his head. The more he laved his tongue over your slit to taste you, the more you had the urge to move, but you stayed still. With your eyes closed, you enjoyed every second of his discovery, from his licks to his tasting and humming. You heaved the breath you were holding when he nibbled your heat right before finding your clit to suckle, and your voice finally came out. You could almost laugh at how easily he had found his way, but your mind wasn’t there. While he found his rhythm, you guided him with expressive sighs, grazing your acrylic nails over his scalp without ever forcing him. You wouldn’t; his hunger was part of the power trip. Chief Min would eat you, give you what you wanted, and service you because you had that much power. You could bring someone like him to his knees. He liked it.

You suddenly pulled on his hair so he’d look up at you, and he did, not even bothering with a quizzical look. You bit your lip to stop a smile and relented your grip, and he looked down for a second. It was all it took for him to get back to it, and you let your head fall back with a sigh — case in point.

“The things you do for duty, Chief…”

His tongue kept laving over you as if you were desert, focused, regardless of your taunt. In fact, he seemed to have forgotten where he was or why because his hands started gently exploring your spread thighs. His fingers pressed to your curves and didn’t stop even when he felt the garter that held the knife you had used on him. Instead, he pulled on it, making it snap against your thigh, ripping a stronger moan from you.

It was then he realized you needed something stronger, so he pressed his face harder against your cunt, latched onto your clit, and started rutting into you. You were surprised but instantly melted, and your fingers curved around his hair. The grind of his lips pressing into you while his mouth held the suction was already maddening, but the thrumming of his tongue on your clit was the cherry on top. You didn’t have time to make it a challenge, or maybe you didn’t want to; his rhythm was perfect against your heat, and you moaned when it intensified. The strumming was precise and maddening, each tap firm and steady, giving you enough time to despair for the next one and moan when it came, leaving you to anticipate what would come next.

Your hips started moving on their own, and that was when you knew you had let go. There was no point in pretending he wasn’t doing it just like you wanted, or that you weren’t rolling into his face to feel him harder, forcing him to dig his long fingers into the flesh of your hips as he drank the slick melting out of you. The very sounds of his humming and licking drove the blood to your cheeks and emboldened your hips, messily humping against his mouth. You could feel the edge right before you, and every time you ground on his mouth, you thought that would be it.

“Fuck,” you groaned between teeth, looking down to find burning brown eyes drinking you more greedily than his hot mouth. He wasn’t stopping you or holding you back, he was letting you fuck his mouth however you wanted, and it popped you.

You let your head fall back and pressed his face to your cunt, your moans pitching higher when he sucked harder, as if to pull all the pleasure out of you like it was venom. He rode your climax with you, gripping your trembling legs around him as though he wished you’d smother him, and finally, you looked down. Your walls were still throbbing in the aftershocks when he dragged his tongue across you slowly, and you groaned through a smirk, then pulled him away by the hair.

“Easy there,” you smiled and let your legs down.

You quickly pulled your dress down to cover you again while your other hand raked through your long hair, putting it in place. He rose slowly to his feet with his eyes on you, and you didn’t even try hiding your heaving chest; he could see it well with such an observant gaze. His eyes were so intense that you shuddered and bit your lip, but avoiding them only landed your own on his evident arousal, and you smirked.

Looking up, for a moment, your taunt got caught in your throat. Min Yoongi looked the absolute best covered in your cum from nose to chin — deliciously ravenous.

You licked your lips, raising your hand to his face but stopping before you touched him. He mimicked you, his pink tongue collecting your slick over his lips while he focused on yours. Still, when your hand moved down, so did his eyes. You smirked, dodging his erection at the last second to hide your hand under your dress.

You hummed, closing your eyes as your fingers collected your wetness mixed with his saliva, and then brought them straight to your mouth. You licked them first, tasting what he did before putting them in your mouth and sucking.

You clenched, knitting your eyebrows as you realized how turned on you were. You were throbbing and craving something to push into you and fuck you senseless, and opening your eyes, you saw the same urge staring right back at you.

Your fingers left your mouth with a pop, and then you smiled, shaking your head, “Should have asked for a good fuck too.”

His dark eyes stayed on yours for a moment, and even when he wiped his chin with the back of his hand, they remained on yours. It was almost a taunt, and you grinned; you loved a good challenge, and even more the kind of fucking that lustful gaze promised. But you knew the worth of asking, and you were not going to come out losing.

“Maybe next time.”

202 notes · View notes

r0-boat · 8 months ago

Note

Hiii, I just noticed your blog and really impressed by your... spicy stuff 👀 Hope that you can accept this request hehe 👉👈 (oh and sorry for any grammar, English is not my first language 🥹)

I absolutely love your headcanons about demons in WHB is animalistic, so what if the kings (and Lucifer) have that time of the month where they completely act like an animal (biting, marking,...) and MC didn't know about that, so MC got tricked by the nobles and being lead (?) to the room where their kings are destroying everything because they cannot find their human (maybe the kings got tied down too or just be sealed inside the room).

Okay I really wanna know what will happen after that 👀 Hope that it will be spicy 😋 Thank you and have a great day ❤️

Demon Rut headcannons

Whb Demon Lords x Gn!reader

Nsfw

Cw: everyone's a slut, The demons are yours and they want you. Slight mentions of demons fucking other demons just to let off steam, demon gangbang.

You know that little private room that looks like it's in a club on the summoning screen? I think that's where their sessions take place, where they're all dressed up in nice for you, only to rip off their clothes seconds later and make a beeline to your body.

That room in that special club for elites only are reserved for the seven lords and you to be used as they please.

I totally think demons have rut, they can fuck and cum whenever they want but during that time of the month when the sexual appetite is heightened to a point where they can't even think clearly. The sense of smell and taste. They will use toys, their subordinates anything! to get them off but it's not enough they need you. From your time you've been in hell and from maternity waiting for you, they've been holding off, and now that you're here... And they can sense you, smell your sweet scent of human and sex they can no longer hold back.

Bold of you to assume that the Lords would share. Some of them wouldn't mind but Satan and Levi who are notoriously more possessive??

Perhaps if they just need you so much that they are willing to share you just to have you at the moment. Without help with potions or magic, You will not survive Even with just the five of them at once. I don't even think you'll survive Mammon with just him during rut.

At first, they'd hate the idea of sharing you, but after the first time. They would kind of like seeing you squirm on another demon's cock. Seeing you get ruined and covered in demon seed would be a sight to purged in their minds, something they would jerk to when you're not here. Something that they'll definitely start doing more often. Not only as a way to prove their worth to you but for their own pleasurable benefit of seeing you soaked with tears, cum, and your own juices. As well as bragging rights to the other lords the next time they see them.

Expect clashing of horns and claws and teeth because only a test of their strength can determine who gets the fuck you first. And using you to test their virality and stamina will determine who gets to keep you for their rut. These demons will go for hours, days until they are tired, until they throw in the towel to the other. They use how many times you come how many orgasms they could milk out of your human body as a dick-measuring contest. Even after bragging about how many times you squeezed their cock while cumming as a badge of pride as their subordinates look at them in awe.

"oh yeah? Well fuck you Satan because last rut I made them cum this many times."

*cue Satan lunging at them with their teeth and claws*

That teasing and play fighting is all in good fun because they know they share a similar interest in being excited to see you next time in another demon's lap, squirming for their touch. Cooing about how much you like their cock and how human cock isn't good enough for you, huh? How they're so lucky to have someone so hungry for demon cock, have delicious your juices taste, how cute you cry for them.

Maybe they'll even start asking you to wear little pretty Lacey lingerie so they can tear off or play with their tongues and teeth. Maybe there's subordinates will catch wind of their lords escapades with you. An excitedly wait for one day their Lord will ask them to come with them. They know that the Lord is in control, and they are just there to be your toy.

And after every rut session, you're treated like a literal princess with aftercare; why do you have to lift a finger. They know that they pushed you beyond your human limits. And they are eternally grateful You indulged their sinful desires and gave up their body to be used and destroyed.

This sex dungeon-like club also doubling as a little hotel room with a full bathroom with a huge pool of bathtub as well as another bedroom with a giant bed for sleeping or other sexual escapades if the Lord's desire. If they ever want alcohol, sex toys, or condoms, they will be brought to them in a care package like basket. And as well as to their dislike, a little locker for the human for other demons store their presents in. It's like you don't already have a permanent residence in hell with a mailbox chocked full of flowers and chocolates and anything you desire.

#smut #whb #what in hell is bad #what in 'hell' is bad #whb x reader #whb satan #whb imagines #whb mammon #whb lucifer #whb leviathan #wihib #pretty busy what in hell is bad #whb x mc #whb headcanons #smut otome

752 notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 1 year ago

Note

i never request things but i wanted to know if i could request something fluffy and angsty with like the reader and spencer being early in the relationship and spencer says i love you to the reader for the first time

Hi babe! Thanks for requesting :)

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 671 words

“I can’t believe you flashed the badge at them,” you giggle, almost stumbling down the sidewalk. “I mean, you may as well have taken out your gun!”

“A badge is not the same as a gun,” Spencer corrects you, his hands hovering cautiously nearby in case you really do fall over from laughing so hard. “Anyway, those guys needed to know that they can’t just do that.”

“They were catcallers!” You cry, giggles starting anew. “What were you going to do, arrest them?”

“Maybe.”

“For what?”

“I’d worry about that when we got to the station.”

You guffaw, and he gives you a little smile.

“I appreciate the chivalry, Spence,” you say, bumping your hip into his amicably and delighting when he blushes, “but don’t ruin your career on my behalf. I can handle some catcallers.”

“I’m sure you can,” he allows, “but it’s my job to make sure you don’t have to.” You smile, wondering whether he means professionally or as your boyfriend. “Anyway, I love my job, but I think that’s a hill I could stand to die on. I love you, and—” It’s like the words turn to breath in his throat. Spencer looks over at you, eyes wide and unsure, and your heart contracts. It’s all you can do not to wince. “I’m sorry, that—that just slipped out. I didn’t—I know it’s early.”

You wave him off, plastering on your breeziest smile. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. I do that all the time—like, one time, I was on the phone with my boss and I went to hang up and said it.” You clear your throat. “It happens.”

“That’s…yeah.” Spencer’s blushing something fierce, gaze tracking your synced footfalls on the sidewalk. “Actually, just to be honest with you, I didn’t mean to say it so soon, but I do…mean it.”

“Oh.” Oh shit.

“But like I said, I know it’s really early.” Neither of you will quite look at each other, though you suspect Spencer’s utilizing those profiling skills for all they’re worth right now. None of your thoughts are ever truly secret from him. “I don’t want to put pressure on you.”

You can’t stand the nerves in his voice anymore, and when you stop and set a hand on his arm, your smile is genuine. “I know you don’t,” you promise him. “Spence, I really, really care about you.” You can feel a cold sweat starting under your arms. The last thing you want to do is ruin this, but you have to be honest with him. “I think, for me, it does still feel a bit early, but…I mean, I know this sounds like a cop-out, but I really feel like I’m almost there, if that makes sense?” You half expect Spencer to pull away, but his eyes stay on yours, kindly curious. “I’ve just, I’ve never been in love before, and I’m really serious about this thing.” You smile anxiously, and his lips tilt upward in return. “I want to be two hundred percent sure before I say it, you know? I want it to really count.” You shake your head. “Sorry, I don’t know if any of that made sense.”

“Hey.” Spencer’s voice is gentle, as is his hand when it seeks out yours. He intertwines your fingers. “That makes perfect sense. Thank you for being honest with me. I would never want you to say it if you’re not sure, you know?”

You nod, relieved. “Exactly.”

“All right then.” He smiles at you, giving your fingers a little squeeze. “So now do you get why I’d risk wrongful arrest for you?”

“No.” You start walking again, tugging him along. “I don’t know, I just feel like it’s too early in the relationship to make you lose your job for me, you know? We can turn around and harass those catcallers back if it’ll make you feel better, though.”

Spencer pretends to consider it. “Are you going to ask me to take out my gun?”

“Nah. Badge is just as good.”

538 notes · View notes

uranometrias · 7 months ago

Note

hello aly! 🤎 i saw that you were receiving requests and it's okay if i ask for something about hotch? 🥺 perhaps him falling in love with jack's art teacher, i'm in the mood for something really fluffy because i need comfort haha take care pretty soul!

this is such a sweet ask. and yes that's more than okay, you never have to ask xx it's kind of short, i hope it's still okay, i focused mainly on their first meeting, but i am open to writing more works for this universe.

────────────────────────

"Good morning, bud!" you don't have to fake excitement or enthusiasm as Jack Hotchner bounds into your classroom. You crouch, kneeling so that you're face to face with him, as he practically glows. His smile is so bright you fear you may have to squint as he's quick to jump into your arms, chubby little hands looping around your neck. You tried your best to make every single student that walked through your door feel welcome, but they all weren’t as agreeable as Jack Hotchner was.

The hug is comforting, sweet, and it reminds you why you got up every morning to work for less than you were worth. The joy you instilled in your kids made everything worthwhile. Jack pulls back after a moment, exclaiming that you were squeezing too tight. It makes you chuckle slightly as you brush a bit of stray lint off his shoulders. “Sorry, kiddo! You’re just too stinking cute.” You hum, and you enjoy this part of the job. You adored all of your students.

Hellos at the beginning of the day, and goodbyes as they poured out into the hallways to head to their next class. Specials at your school, which consisted of Art, Music, and Gym, happened on rotation. You had Jack’s class first period, four times out the week. His entire class though, had been angels. Through the year you'd only had about two incidents, and both included students fighting over who's turn it was on paint day. You finally let Jack go with one more squeeze.

He giggles, which is a tell that your hugs weren't all that bad. You're a bit startled when an unfamiliar man steps through the door behind him. He's wearing a collared button up, with jeans, and a matching belt. "Um, excuse me, Sir." you hold a hand up, quickly moving to usher Jack, and the other entering students away from the door. "You can't come in here." you affirm, and you look around to see if there was anything in your direct vicinity that could be used to attack.

You settle on a foam brush, clutching it by it's bristles, as you hold it out towards the man. "Stay back, or I'll-" you look down at the paint brush, and then back at the mystery assailant. "I'll use this, and you won't like it." you assert, and your students are giggling, seemingly amused by the situation. You don't see the humour in it. You'd met every single parent and guardian of your students, and this man had never been there. Which made him a flight risk, a danger.

"I think you've got the wrong idea." the man speaks, and his voice stands out. It's very stern, but not hostile. He has a commanding presence, and he seems to appraise you diligently. You take a look at your hand-print dress, and suddenly feel very childish. You loved your job, mostly because you could dress without much judgement. It wasn't like the kids were going to tell you that you looked childish.

"You can never be too careful." you retort sharply, and you readjust your grip on your paint brush. You hoped you looked a bit intimidating, but you wouldn't count on it. "And I don't see a visitor's badge." you add a second after. "Jack, come this way." you prompt, and he seems to stall. He looks from you to the man and back again. He was conflicted, for starters he had his father, his hero standing on one side. And you, his favorite teacher of all time on the other.

"Bye-bye, Daddy." and his choice is made, the small child waving his hand boldly before he's rushing off to his desk, and you're stuck. Aaron, is surprised. Eyes trailing after his son with that feeling every parent has when they realize their child is growing up. It forces a puff of air to escape him, as his eyes quickly flit back to you. His eyebrows raise, dark eyes swimming as realization sets in. Usually Jack was dropped off by his Aunt Jessica Brooks, she was a lovely lady.

She'd mentioned Jack's parental situation. How his mother had passed a few years back, and how his father had a demanding job. You'd given up on ever laying eyes on the man. "You're Mr..." you trail off as your voice cracks obnoxiously. "You're Jack's dad?" you ask, and he lets out a quiet laugh, one that's more a nose exhale than anything else. It's a fitting sort of laugh, you hardly expected the man to be the type to guffaw or even chuckle in an ugly sort of way.

"Not that you can tell by the way he took off." he retorts, and there's still an amusement that rests in his tone. "Aaron," he finally introduces. "Hotchner." he finishes, hand shooting out. It must have been habitual. You didn't know much about the FBI, but you did know that they were sticklers, stone serious. You'd done a project on greatest heroes, and Jack had managed a piece that consisted of a JJ, Prentiss, Garcia, Morgan, Rossi, and Reid. They'd been paired up with a piece that was solely his dad, his superhero. His favorite.

"I'm Jack's teacher." you introduce, as if that didn't go without saying. You reach forward with your free hand, allowing his palm to press against yours. His shake is firm, but you're surprised at how nice his hands feel. There's this spark, a feeling of lightning zigzagging from him to you, and it makes you leap back, paint brush clattering to the ground. The class seems to get lost in the mishap, watching with bated breath for what would possibly come next.

Aaron doesn't bat an eye as he bends down, crouching to pluck the brush up from the ground. He looks bemused, standing back to his full height as he holds your weapon of choice out towards you. "You should be more careful. It's a pretty dangerous weapon in the right hands." and he's making a joke. You find yourself gobsmacked, it was too much for him to be charismatic, and attractive. No, he had to pick one or the other. Still, you grab the brush, despite your fear of sparking again.

"You just got lucky you were vetted by the right kid." you offer your own sort of joke, and his smile makes you proud on the inside.

"I'm sorry for the late appearance." he changes the subject, but it doesn't feel forced or charged. "I meant to get here sooner so that I could lay eyes on Jack's favorite teacher..." you feel proud at the compliment. "You're all he talks about when his day is done." he adds, and you're turning to look at Jack. The kids were separated at their tables, multicolored smocks already on their bodies. They were more than ready for the day. "But as I'm sure you're aware, my job can sometimes keep that from happening." he says and you nod.

"Jess did mention you had a hectic schedule with your job, I understand." your hand waves tiredly, brushing off his apologies. You didn't need them, not when it was so clear that Jack adored his father. And it was more than clear that Jack was Aaron's world. "I'm just glad you finally got here." and you try not to sound as breathless as you feel. "It's important for teachers and parents to be on the same page." you prompt, and Aaron's head nods. You don't know if he really believes you or if it's all politics in a way.

"I couldn't have said it better myself." and he looks so sincere. He's staring at your face intently, and you feel self conscious, blinking too much to be normal. "You've got a little..." and he's motioning towards you. Mortification is the only thing you feel as you run through your morning routine. You'd scrubbed your tongue and teeth thrice before leaving the house. You'd cleaned out any evidence of sleep from your eyes, so what exactly could be out of order.

You swipe frantically at your face and nose, hoping it wasn't something that would make you look like a dunce or a fool in front of Aaron. He chuckles a bit as he extends a hand. "Uh, may I?" he asks, and you're nodding before you should be. It's almost instantaneous the way he's cupping your chin, tilting you head, and dragging his thumb over your cheek. He removes his hand a second later, you could almost pretend it didn't happen. That is, until he's swiping paint on his jeans. Damn, you were such an idiot.

You'd been prepping paint stations for your lesson on symbolism. You must have forgotten to clean up your face before the first bell rang signaling the day's beginning. "That's so embarrassing." you exclaim, and another student is entering the classroom, quickly hugging your side, as you offer an awkward wave to another parent. You squeeze the girl a bit, before she's bounding off to her seat.

"You know, I think it builds character." Aaron promises, and you snort. "Besides, it was kinda intimidating." he's lying, and you know it. He's trying to make you feel less shameful about it. "Anyone looking to mess with your class is in for it." and you're certain your face is visible exposing your humiliation, and subsequent embarrassment at the hands of one of your student's parent.

"Enough, enough." you plead, and here's where you get a full laugh. It's handsome just like everything else about him. "Your sarcasm's far from helpful." you huff, and you're dragging your hand over the same place he'd touched. It tingles as you drag your hands down, and you hope for your sanity Jess is back tomorrow. Garnering a foolish infatuation for your student was the last thing you wanted to happen.

"I'll do my best to keep that in mind for next time." he replies. The bell chirps overhead, a signal that class needed to begin. "Don't work too hard." he prompts, and your heart stutters in your chest. You feel like a fool, he was just being nice, a gentleman like his job required him to be.

"I'll try my best." you promise, and he smiles at you like he's pleased.

"I'll see you later, bud!" and he's addressing Jack, who ignores protocol. He bounds across the room to offer his dad a big hug, he squeezes him tight, Aaron hugging him back maybe tighter. It's sweet, but you feel like you're intruding.

"Say bye-bye to daddy, Miss L/N." Jack pleads, and you blink.

Bye daddy. And you scold your horrid mind. Jack's waiting expectantly, and it seems his father is as well.

"Goodbye, Mr. Hotchner." you huff out, and he's smirking.

"Goodbye, Miss L/N." he matches your exasperated tone. And then he's leaving, and you're heaving a sigh of relief. Jack's going back to his seat, face just as smug as it could be for someone his age. It takes you a second to float back to Earth, staring at the doorway like he'd come back, but he doesn't. You inhale sharply, good riddance. You shuffle slowly to the door, shutting it as you soon address your class.

"We're gonna talk about Symbolism today." you announce, and the kids who were far from listening finally take you in. "Does anyone want to take a guess as to what Symbolism is?" you question, and a flurry of hands shoot up in the air. There's one girl, little Mary, who looks like she's doing the pee pee dance as she tries to get you to choose her. So you do, "Go ahead and give it a shot, Mary."

"Miss L/N, are you gonna marry Jack's dad?"

Maybe today was the wrong day for paint and symbolism.

295 notes · View notes

bluecollarmcandtf · 1 year ago

Text

Which one do you want?

Just off a quiet highway somewhere in the Midwest, you might see James advertising my new product. He used to own this car dealership with his wife, but she's long gone. James hasn't thought about her since I pulled out my pendulum and put him in a trance. He just spends his days standing on the side of the road holding up that sign like I told him to.

You can see I marked him at 40 bucks, which is well over what he's worth, but I like to keep him around to advertise and flag down potential customers. His abs are visible even in the rain, and the neon underwear I put him in is sure to catch every driver's eye.

If you pull into my dealership, I'd be happy to show you my selection you can choose from...

Tyler, here, used to be my brother-in-law, but my sister dumped him real fast after she found the guy was a cheater. Since, he wasn't family anymore, I had no reason not to hypnotize every thought out of his head.

She has no idea I did this to her ex, but it won't hurt to have Tyler out of the picture for good. I like to give him a little punch in the gut every time I pass. It's my form of ongoing payback. He only ever reacts with a stifled groan since his mind is mush, but it's still cathartic to see him in pain.

Tyler will probably go fast since he's so traditionally handsome, but the vengeful part of me hopes a more sadistic client will take him off my hands.

Next is Caesar. This guy used to work at the auto garage next door, but when I saw him I knew I had to have him. He put on a real tough guy act when I introduced myself, but a pudgy working man like him should act accordingly in my opinion.

After introducing his gaze to my pendulum, he practically fell into my arms. I had my fun warping Ceasar's personality to be more like that of a submissive dog, but even that got a bit old. Sure, I made him love and cuddle me like the perfect partner, but he tracked mud everywhere and he always seemed to stink.

I hope whoever pays for him doesn't mind always telling the oaf to hose himself down every once in awhile. I suppose they could just use Ceasar for the cheap manual labor and just forget about his hygiene entirely.

This is Mike. He's a real piece of trash. I caught him trying to steal one of my cars in the middle of the night. He sure was shocked when my army of hypnotized hunks ran out and apprehended him, per my command.

He might look mean, but trust me, Mike's been thoroughly hypnotized and broken in just like every other dude on this lot. He wouldn't be standing there holding that 'For Sale' sign all day if he weren't!

Now, I know that his lack of hair might be a turn off for a lot of folks, so I'm willing to go down on the price. 20 dollars is already pretty low, but I want to make sure you all can afford your own hypnotized hunk. It's not like it's too difficult for me to go out and find a couple more idiots to fill their place. Hell, if you really need it, I might sell you a guy for a dollar!

This boy in blue is Lt. O'Riley. I don't know what his full name is. I'm just going off what it says on his badge. Now, I know that hypnotizing an officer of the law is risky, but O'Riley was being a real pain in my neck, always poking his nose in my business.

I hypnotized his partner too.

I think that guy's name was Brooks or something, but he was real ugly. I would've never been able to sell his fat ass, so I had him hand over his police uniform and turned him into my handyman, who's meant to be neither seen nor heard. He wears an old pair of dirty coveralls now and takes care of all the maintenance work. He's probably off scrubbing my housing from top to bottom right now since it's the middle of the day.

You could do that to officer O'Riley too, if you want, or maybe you keep that precious uniform on him. It's up to you.

This last guy is Don, and I know what you're going to say! I'm a little light on product at the moment, but don't worry.

I'm planning on driving into town real soon and restocking. Maybe I'll grab a few more officers this time. The police department is right down the street from that Halloween store. I could grab a couple more cops and put them in some stupid costumes.

Customers love a themed product, right?

Anyways, Don here didn't do anything to piss me off. He actually stopped in after seeing the sign. He wanted to purchase one of my brainless studs and pimp him out to all his friends for cheap cash. I liked the idea, but Don was far too handsome to just walk off my lot.

I offered to give him a tutorial of my hypnosis, and the guy naively agreed. His car has been collecting dust in the back ever since, and he's been added into the lineup of hot men standing for sale.

So, please come by if you're interested in taking any of these guys on a test drive! Let me know which one sparks your interest!

No need to be nervous.....unless you're a handsome man yourself. Then I might just have to use my pendulum on you!

#gay hypnosis #hypno story #gay mind control #gay ai art #hypnosis #mind control #hypnotized

585 notes · View notes

morgana-larkin · 6 months ago

Text

Ok so I had an idea, it might be stupid but here’s the summary: one of Melissa’s first students became a teacher and got a job at Abbott as a first grade teacher. Melissa becomes interested in her right away.

On another note: dudes, I’ve noticed I don’t get as much notice on my Chessy fics and I’m not understanding, she the original gay icon from Lisa Ann Walter. Also almost no notice on my Marilyn Thornhill x reader fic. I’ll be doing worth it then a sexy Mel firefighter prompt😉

Playing Favourite

Warnings: smut, Mel being a tease

Words: 2.9k

You walk into the doors of Abbott Elementary and you stop to take a look. Been awhile since you last step foot in here, last time was when you were graduating grade 8, about 10 years ago. You’ve gone from graduating from Abbott to teaching there, full circle as they say.

You got your teaching badge and classroom key and then you head to the staff lounge. You open the door with a smile and look around in amazement. You never saw this room, the one place students couldn’t enter. You look and see a few teachers staring at you confused. You just walk in and go to the fridge to put your lunch in and you freeze.

“Ms. Schemmenti?” You say and she looks at you even more confused.

“Who are you?” She asked.

“Oh sorry, I guess I look a bit different. My name is y/n y/l/n. You might not remember me actually, I was in your class when you first started working here.” You tell her and she smiles.

“Of course, I remember you now. What are you doing here?” She asks.

You showed her your teaching badge. “I work here now.” You tell her proudly and walk over to her. “You actually inspired me to become a teacher. I just saw the way you loved teaching and I thought it’d be great to love your job so much and I always loved helping people out.” You tell her. “Ms Howard, you’re both still here. I don’t recognize anyone else here.”

“They all left dear.” Barb tells you. “And you’re a fellow teacher here now. Call me Barb.” She tells you.

“Barb…wow, that felt weird.” You say with a chuckle and she smiles at you. You then go and put your lunch in the fridge and then make a coffee. “Anyone else want one, I’m making a new pot.” You ask the room. Melissa gets up and stands next to you with her coffee mug.

“I’ll take one hon.” She tells you and you smile at her. “I’m proud of you, I knew you’d make a great teacher.” She tells you while you put coffee in her mug.

“Really?” You ask her and stare at her with wide eyes and she nods. “You might not have known but you were my favourite teacher.” You tell her and she rubs your shoulder.

“Thank you, it makes me happy to hear that.” She tells you and goes to sit down. When you’re done making your coffee, you get invited to sit with the trio and they all introduce themselves when you do.

“So y/n, what was Melissa like when she taught you?” Janine asks you.

“Well… she was always caring of all her students. And every year I was here, I saw that never changed.” You tell them and then go on and recall more moments that you remember from second grade and Melissa.

When it was close to 8am, you all make your way to the gym for the welcome back presentation. You walk in and see Barb and Melissa going to sit down somewhere and the trio going to get good seats near the front. The trio invited you to sit with them but you saw Melissa and Barb sitting in one of the middle rows and you make your way over there. You go in from the other side and walk over and sit down beside Melissa and she looks up from her phone to look at you.

“Hope it’s alright that I sit beside you.” you tell her and she smiles.

“Of course not hon.” She says and takes a candy from her bag, unwraps it and plops it in her mouth.

“I knew you had a candy stash.” You tell her and she looks over at you confused. “Whenever one of us was crying, you always gave a piece of candy to make them feel better along with a small pep talk.” You tell her and she smiles.

“Want one?” She asks and hands you a piece of candy. You take the candy with a smile.

“Sure, thank you Ms Schemmenti.” You say and she rolls her eyes as you pop the candy in your mouth.

“Hon, I’m not your teacher anymore, I’m your co worker, you can call me by my first name.” She tells you and you look at her confused. “Do you not know what my first name is?” She asks you and you shake your head. “It’s Melissa.”

“Melissa… that sounds weird.” You say and she tilts her head at you and you mentally facepalm. “Not that your name is weird. Just that I’m used to knowing you as Ms Schemmenti.” You rush out and she chuckles.

“I get it. When you’re used to something a certain way then it’s weird when it changes.” She tells you.

The presentation starts and you see that Melissa and Barb aren’t really paying attention. Barb is mostly focused on crossword puzzles, and Melissa on eating candy and her phone. She does keep offering you some during the 2 hour presentation, to which you always accept.

When Ava was showing selfies of her summer vacation, Melissa leaned over to you. “So where’s your classroom?” She asks you.

You look at your papers and see. “Ummm…” You look and she grabs one of the papers and sees.

“Oh, you’re right next to mine.” She tells you. “You’re a first grade teacher?” She says and you nod.

“You know we end up doing some things with the first graders during the year. I don’t know if you remember.” She tells you and you think about it.

“I remember doing some project with a bunny…or was it a rabbit.” You say and she grins.

“Peter rabbit.” She says and you smile and nod. “I still do that project.” She tells you and you smile.

“Really? Oh I would love to collaborate on that if you want. It’s a cute story.” You say while looking at what Ava is saying and she blushes.

A few hours later you’re decorating your classroom when you hear a few curses from next door. You walk over and knock on the door. A few seconds later Melissa opens the door and smiles when she sees it’s you.

“Everything alright in here? I heard, what I think is cursing.” You tell her and she sighs and nods.

“Ya, just having some trouble hanging something up. It’s a bit wide and everytime I go to hang up one side, the other one comes off cause it can’t support the weight.” She tells you.

“Do you need some help?” You offer and she smiles.

“If you don’t mind then I would appreciate it.” She says and she lets you in.

“Wow.” You say as you walk in her classroom. “It’s changed but still some things are the same.” You say as you look around the room.

“Was I really your favourite teacher? I mean you aren’t just saying that?” She asks and you look at her.

“Ya of course. I don’t really remember my other teachers that much, but I remember you. I sorta remember Barb but you don’t see me telling her that she was my favourite.” You joke a bit and she laughs.

“Well you could have without me knowing.” She tells you and you chuckle. You go over to one side of the poster that she needs help with and pin it up and then hold it while she pins the other side. “Well thanks for the help, I can’t wait to see you with the students. And it’s been great seeing you again.” She says to you and you smile.

“You as well.” You tell her and then go back to your classroom.

*2 months later*

Melissa opens her door and sees you there with a bag and a frustrated expression on your face. “Hey y/n.” She tells you with a quirked eyebrow.

“I need your help with my Halloween costume.” You say, straight to the point and she giggles.

“Alright come on in.” She says and steps aside to let you in her house. “Who are you going as?” She asks.

You and Melissa have gotten closer over the past 2 months. She didn’t give you the cold shoulder even though you’re new since you were one of her first students. She’s gotten to know who you are and the both of you have been slowly falling for each other. Neither of you will admit it though since you’re both stubborn and don’t want to possibly ruin the friendship.

“Ok well you know how you said you’re going as Penelope Featherington?” You start and she nods her head. “Well I thought I’d go as Eloise Bridgerton.” You tell her and she laughs.

“And what exactly are you having trouble with?” She asks you sigh.

“I can’t figure out how to put on the clothes.” You tell her with a pout. She giggles as your pout and walks up to you.

“Alright, well we can both get ready and help each other out.” She tells you and you smile.

You both get your costumes ready and laid out. You begin to put the corset on and she comes to tie it up. She sees all your skin on display and since you’re standing in front of the mirror, she sees a good amount of cleavage as well. She loops the string in the last few holes before beginning to tighten it.

“Is that too tight?” She asks and you shake your head.

“No, that’s perfect.” You tell her and she ties it together. She then helps you put the dress on and accidentally brushes one of your breasts and you gasp.

“Sorry.”

“Oh, it’s- it’s ok, just surprised me is all.” You rush out.

You then help her with her corset. You both really should have accounted for her chest, as when tightening it, one of them slips out and you both freeze. You stare at it through the mirror and your brain stops working. She tucks it back in and you’re still staring at where it was and your cheeks are redder than her hair. She sees your reaction and she turns around to face you.

“Did you like what you saw?” She asks, with a bit of a teasing tone and you nod.

“It looked perfect.” You breathe out and she can see your breathing has gotten heavy. She takes a step towards you and she’s right in front of you, it wouldn't take much to lean forward and kiss her.

“Y/n, are you attracted to me?” She asks cautiously. You widen your eyes and you don’t know what to say. All you have the brain function to do is nod. “Well that’s perfect because I’m attracted to you too.” She tells you with a smile.

“Really?” You say in disbelief and she nods.

“Ya, and I just want to say that I’ve been wanting to kiss you for a couple weeks now.” She tells you and you lean forward a bit and she closes the gap. She puts a hand on the back of your head and you put one on her cheek. You both pull back after a few seconds and you stare at each other before going right back and make out. She walks forward a bit while still kissing you and your back hits a wall. She puts both her hands on the wall, one beside your head and the other beside your waist. You have both your arms wrapped around her neck to keep her where she is and open your mouth a bit to let her tongue slip in.

At one point she puts her hand on your waist and gives it a small squeeze and you moan. You pull back when you need to breath and look at her as you try and bring oxygen back to your brain.

“Do you kiss all your former students?” You tease and she smiles.

“Can’t say I have, you’re the only one.” She tells you. “Do you kiss all your former teachers?” She teases back.

“Only my favourite teacher.” You say and she lunges forward to capture your lips again. She moves her hands downward near your ass and cups it when she gets there. She then gets you to hop up and wrap your legs around her and you do just that. She then pins you against the wall harder and goes for your neck.

She then gets some of her control back and she pulls back to look at you. “Do you want to continue with this or do you want to stop here? Cause I’ll tell you right now that if we continue then I’ll want to go all the way.” She tells you bluntly.

“Then let’s go all the way.” You tell her and she carries you to her bedroom and lays you on the bed and continues kissing you. You then get an idea when she goes back to kissing your neck. You get her to pull back and look at her. “I know you said to call you Melissa, but right now I just want to call you Ms Schemmenti.” You tell her and she smiles and shakes her head.

“Oh, do you want to be disciplined then?” She asks, playing along.

“Perhaps.” You say.

“I mean you have been bad. Having dirty thoughts about your teacher, showing up in sexy clothes to get her attention.” She tells you and blush. “Oh don’t think I haven’t noticed your wardrobe change in the past few weeks.” She tells you.

“So it worked then.” You say proudly.

“Oh, it definitely worked.” She says and kisses you again. She then reaches under your dress and pulls your underwear down and throws it somewhere. She then goes under your dress and connects her mouth with your pussy.

You feel her tongue on you and you gasp. You can’t see her, all you do is feel her and she definitely knows how to please a woman with her tongue. You grab the headboard behind you and you buck your hips. She then moves her mouth to your clit and you moan and buck your hips again. She then slips a finger in and you gasp out. She pops her head out from under your dress and looks at you with wet lips.

“How should I discipline you?” She asks you and you just whine as she’s still fingering you. She adds another finger and your eyes are shut closed. She expertly takes her underwear off and goes in her nightstand to get her strap on. She somehow is able to put it on with one hand and then she pulls out of you, much to your reluctance. She pulls your dress off and then she pulls one of your breasts out of the corset top and wraps her mouth around the nipple. She pulls back after a few seconds and looks at you. “I’m going to get in a sitting position and you're going to settle yourself on my strap and ride it.” She tells you and you look down and realise that she put a strap on and you nod.

She goes to sit and you climb on her lap and then slowly go down on the strap, taking the whole thing in you. You then start to go back and forth on it, riding the strap and wrap your arms around her neck and look at her. She grabs your hips and helps you ride her and she feels it rubbing her clit.

“Yes, ride my strap, take your discipline like a good girl.” She tells you and you moan.

“Yes Ms Schemmenti, I’ll be good.” You tell her and she groans. She slips a finger down to your clit and applies pressure and you gasp out and pull her body closer to you. She pulls you in and kisses you and you feel yourself close to coming. “Omg, I’m so close Miss.” You gasp out and she moans.

“I’m close as well, go on baby, come with me.” She says and seconds later you come and she comes right after you. You stop riding her strap and you get off of her. She holds you to her and you’re both trying to catch your breath. While doing that, you hear a knock at the door and you look at the time and realise it’s probably some of the early trick or treaters. “Ignore them, I’m more interested in this treat.” She says and points to you and you giggle.

“I do have to get ready though. I have a Halloween party to get too.” You say to her and go to get up.

“Nooo, but I want you here and don’t want to let you go.” Melissa says to you as she holds you tight and you giggle.

“Well how about you come with me, and then I can come back here with you.” You suggested and she smiled as she accepted your offer.

“Ok deal.” She tells you and then the two of you get ready and go to the party.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

@imaginesmultifandoms

@idonothingalldays-blog

@sexysapphicshopowner

@dvrkhcld

@lilfartbox1

@ricejucie

@unicorniusfallapatorius

@a-queen-and-her-throne

@sleep-deprived-athlete

@og-kxsh-420

Let me know if you want to be added!

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x oc #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti #x reader #fanfic #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary

210 notes · View notes

johnwickb1tsch · 9 months ago

Text

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 21 all chapters

WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

-You toss and turn, of course, utterly unable to sleep.

Your body does not get the memo that it’s a bad idea to fuck a man like John Wick, who is a killer who is holding you prisoner, and refuses to simmer down. You are uncomfortably swollen between your legs, your pussy aching with frustration, and in the wee hours of the morning you are certain you are about to lose your goddamn fucking mind.

How is he really going to fucking know?

This is the stupid little thought that plays through your tired brain as you writhe beneath the covers, running hands up over your torso, pretending they are his.

Imagining his touch tweaking the sensitive tips of your nipples, his fingers buried inside you, seeking that sensitive place that drives you wild.

Yours are too soft, too small, not long enough or thick enough by half.

You try to trick yourself that it’s his unrelenting touch circling your clit, furious in his claiming of your pleasure as his own…

It’s not enough by half, and the release that washes over you is a paltry consolation at best, a weak pleasure that you know is a sad facsimile of the real thing. Still, you can’t stop yourself from sighing his name, and how has he mind-fucked you so royally in such a short amount of time?

It pisses you off, and in a last act of defiance for the night you flip off the camera high in the corner.

He’s probably not watching anyway. He’s probably asleep, snug in his bed with Dog, the bastard.

Feeling sad and not really sated at all, you curl into a ball and try to finally get some rest. It’s lonely in this big bed all by yourself, and by the time sleep finally claims you your pillow is damp with tears.

-When finally you wake in the morning, you are cold. The covers are down around your waist, and your shoulders ache, your arms at an odd angle out in front of you.

You never sleep like this.

There’s something on your wrists.

You open your eyes, blinking away the blur of sleep. Your vision focuses on something red.

A very neat line of shibari style knots encircles your wrists and half your forearms. They would have been beautiful, in a different setting. Like, not on your body, without your consent.

They’re not so tight to cut off your circulation, but they’re not exactly comfortable either. You strain against the silk rope, and find you can’t budge them.

You are so fucked.

“I warned you.”

John is sitting in the chair in the corner, watching you. He’s wearing all black again, a button down and slacks this time. Looking his best for you, or does he have somewhere to be? It’s not something you would have paid attention to before, but this morning, you can’t help but fixate on the fact that he’s wearing a leather belt.

Because you’re an idiot, you snipe anyway, “Wow, looks like someone earned his merit badge in macramé.”

He just smirks at you, the beautiful bastard.

“I’ve got more than a badge, honey.”

“Very funny. Untie me.”

“You’ll have to earn it, bad girl.”

Your heart skitters around in your chest as you wonder what that means.

He goes on, “Did you really think I wouldn’t see you last night?”

“Guess I assumed you’d be sleeping. It was way past your bedtime.”

He scoffs at the old man dig, leaning forward on his knees, fixing you with that hawkish gaze. “I found out I only sleep well with you in my arms, darling. Wouldn’t that have been nice last night?”

Yes, it would have. However, you just frown at him.

“So, was it worth it?” he pushes.

You sigh, half tempted to tell him how utterly unsatisfying your little session of self-indulgence had been. Rather than answer him, you look at the knots again. They really are beautiful. It makes you think of the book binding shop you’d visited in Florence, and the complicated stitches and knots they used to affix the signatures of pages together.

This man likes binding all kinds of things, it seems.

“Are you hungry?”

Only then do you notice that he has a plate of breakfast foods on the little table beside him. Eggs, toast, and bacon. A little plastic cup that might be water or juice. Your tummy answers with a rumble. Dog did eat your dinner last night, and John never offered you a replacement sandwich. At the time you’d been too worked up about…everything, to care.

“Maybe.”

He huffs a little laugh at you. “Come here.” He pats his knee, and you realize he wants you to sit on his lap—so he can feed you. A little growl in the back of your throat escapes you, and it only makes his smirk widen.

“God, you’re adorable when you’re angry.”

“I’m not hungry,” you grouse.

You are starving, and you both know it.

“Come. Here.”

There’s that chilling tone of voice again. It does not fail to fill your veins with ice, your heart skipping a beat before skittering irregularly in your chest. You’ve come to understand that it means playtime is over.

You are so fucked.

It is awkward, getting out of the bed with your wrists tied like this. You almost fall on your face, your foot getting tangled in the sheet. From John’s forbidding expression, you don’t think he would have caught you from hitting the floor this time.

You are still only dressed in the thin nightie, and the air is cold on your skin. Your nipples tighten, forming sharp peaks beneath the fabric, the silk lending agonizing friction that makes you want to press your thighs to relieve some of the sudden ache between them.

Last night so did not help you with this problem, and John’s eyes fixating on them does not help either, and you wonder if you’ll be in trouble when you stain his neat looking pants leg with your slick after sitting on him.

“Come here,” he says again, his tone much gentler this time.

Defeated, you shuffle forward, letting him guide you to perch on his knee with a hand on your hip. You barely manage to suppress a shudder as possessively his hand slides just under your skirt, resting on the warm pillow of your thigh. His long fingers are so close to your center, but he makes no move, letting you stew in it.

Bastard.

Only then do you turn to look at him, finding his gaze fixed on your face. “Good morning.”

When you say nothing in return he lifts one eyebrow, and you swear, this man will be the death of you out of frustration alone.

“Good morning,” you finally return, hating the meek timbre of your tone.

“Do you like scrambled eggs?” You nod, and he scoops up a forkful. You notice the fork is plastic, and you wonder if its for your safety, or for his.

He’s clearly never seen Hot Tub Time Machine.

“I would have taken you to breakfast in Venice, but someone had to run away.”

“Well, someone was an insufferable prig the night before,” you return primly, wondering what punishment this will earn you, unable to stop yourself from saying it anyway. He actually smirks at this, though his grip tightens a bit in warning on your thigh. Not enough to hurt, but oh.

You are definitely leaving a wet spot on his trousers, and you hate yourself a little more for it.

You finish your breakfast bite by bite like the good girl you’re apparently not. It was good, if not the weirdest seating arrangement you’ve ever endured. You tremble inside, as you wonder what he has in mind for you next, now that your energy is up and you are trussed like a holiday goose for his pleasure.

You couldn’t be more surprised, than when he deposits you on the bed, kisses your cheek, and bids you, “Have a nice day, sweetie.”

“Wait!” you exclaim, whirling as he is already halfway to the door, swinging his suit jacket about his broad shoulders. “Where are you going?”

“Out.”

You hate it, that hearing this fills you with panic. “Are you coming back?”

“Do you want me to come back?” There is a dangerous glitter in those dark eyes, and you know that is a question loaded with fourteen in the clip and one in the chamber.

You decide on, “I want you to untie me.” Holding up your wrists as exhibit A.

He shrugs a little, and you know that was not the answer he wanted. “Maybe later.” Then he sweeps out of the room, leaving you staring dumbfounded at the door where he’d just been. The man is like a fucking ghost.

“Bastard!”

You hope he hears you, but you suspect the epithet falls on deaf ears.

-Your first order of business, of course, is trying to undo these beautiful fucking knots. Unfortunately for you, they are tight, and secure, and John was smart enough to make the finishing hitch with the end tails on the opposite side of your wrist where you cannot easily reach them with your teeth.

Sonofabitch.

If he’d left you Dog for company you could have enlisted the pooch’s formidable chompers, perhaps, but no dice on that one.

Fine.

You sit under the covers for a while, because you’re cold. You try to read, but it is infuriatingly difficult to turn the pages of a book and read comfortably with your hands like this.

You are certain lunch time comes and goes, without a peep out of John.

Did he actually leave you?

You hate it, how the thought makes a trill of panic vibrate in your chest.

Fine. It’s fucking fine.

He thinks he can break you with alone time? You? You are the Queen of Introversion. You can go for days without human interaction, happily, so long as you have a sketchbook or a book. Bring it on, Mr. Wick.

He left you the water cup with the straw, and boy is that an adventure to refill in the bathroom when you’re thirsty.

Going pee without making a mess is no small feat either.

You pace the room, just to get some exercise. You look out the window, watching the birds in the trees.

You laugh to yourself, banging your head against the bulletproof glass. How funny, that you’d once fancied yourself Jane Eyre, when it turned out you were destined to be Mad Bertha locked up in the attic by Rochester all along.

You hate to admit it, but by the time the sun is starting to set behind the trees you are going stir crazy with wondering where the fuck he is.

It’s definitely not because you miss him.

It’s just…these fucking ropes, of course. It’s not those burning dark eyes, or those large sure hands, or that sturdy long body he likes to press to yours. It’s not that the silence of the room feels empty without his deep voice, even if he’s using it to taunt you.

It is late by the time you hear the locks on the door whir, and you have been sitting in your nest in bed feeling listless and way too sorry for yourself. You are half out of your mind with boredom, and your shoulders and elbows ache at the joints from the restraints at your wrist. You try not to show it, but you are ready to climb up the fucking walls.

Like he might have some inkling of this, John pays you a knowing smile, assuming his seat with the confidence of a king in his throne room. He snaps and pats his thigh, no words this time, expecting you to obey.

Someday, you are going to make him pay for this.

But now…there’s nothing for it but to play his twisted game.

He’s prepared some kind of stir-fry tonight, with vegetables, beef, and rice. You are starving by now, and it smells heavenly.

Again, the food is good, simple but filling. He feeds you forkful by forkful with a careful tenderness that could make you weep. Your time with John is like a game of Russian Roulette. Spin the wheel, which John shall you receive this minute?

It’s easy to hate Mean John. Insufferable Ass Hat John, could drive you to murder. But Sweet John? You would do anything, for Sweet John, and you’re afraid he knows it too.

It’s only been a day, really. Is that right? A day? And already, you feel yourself slipping into the mould he’s fashioned for you.

Perhaps in a knee-jerk attempt to counter this, you ask, “Did you used to play this game with Helen?”

He freezes with the fork halfway to your lips, his hand underneath your skirt with his dead wife’s name in your mouth.

You meant to throw him off, but as far as you can tell, all it earns you is a scoff. “No.”

“Why not?”

He actually seems to consider your question, toying with the food again, re-loading the fork with a different bite. “I was never afraid she would leave me. Funny, how that worked out.”

You feel like he’s handed you an important piece of information. Emboldened by his quietness, you dare push, “And…what do you think she’d think, about what you’re doing to me now?”

“I’d say she lost her vote, when she left me.” The indifference is gone; this is delivered with a stinging bitterness, and you realize he blames her for leaving him. There’s a clue in this too, and you feel like the solution to all this is an illusive thing hovering just barely out of your grasp. If you can find just the right words, push just the right buttons…maybe you can bring him back to sanity?

“She never would have left you on purpose, John. She got sick. You’ve got to forgive her.”

And accept you can’t control everyone around you. Then preferably, untie me! motherfucker.

The only indication he gives that you’ve upset him is the tightening of his fingers digging into your thigh. You’re going to have bruises, but if he’s actually processing what you’re saying, it’s a price you’ll gladly pay.

He just continues to push the medley of food around on the plate, shaking his head in silence. Disappointed in his nonreaction to your question, you sullenly accept the next bite.

Three seconds later, your mouth is on fire.

You squeal with panic, leaning for the plate to spit it out. But John’s big hand clamps over your mouth, a hard glint in his eyes, and you know you’re going to have to swallow it. It takes three tries, but you manage, tears streaming from the corner of your eyes.

You can do moderately spicy food, but that was just fucking diabolical.

“What the fuck?” you hiss between coughs.

“I knew you’d have something smart to say tonight.”

You try to reach for the water cup with its stupid little straw and your stupidly bound-together hands, but John sets it out of reach. “Oh my god, please?”

He speaks calmly, as though the lining of your mouth is not being eaten away like you took a bite of rice laced with battery acid. “You keep speaking about Helen like you knew her. I suggest you cut it out. Unless you would like all your meals seasoned like this.”

You blow a long breath of air over your tongue. It only sort of helps.

Mother. Fucker.

You glare daggers, but for now, you’re wise enough (broken enough?) to keep your epithets to yourself.

He sits back in the chair to regard you, tossing the fork into what’s left on the plate. You’re still hungry, but you’ll be damned if you eat anymore from that dish. You flinch as he reaches for you, though he is not cruel as he grips your hair at the base of your head. Just…exacting, and he guides you to perch on the edge of the chair between his legs, your bare ass fitted against his crotch.

It feels good as he starts to braid your hair, a jarring contrast to the pain still simmering in your mouth. You whimper a little, despite yourself, arching into him behind you. You didn’t even mean to, really, but it wins you a low groan that fills you with forbidden warmth.

This is so fucked.

Nothing you’ve experienced in your life has prepared you for handling this.

When he finishes he wraps the new handle of your plaited hair in his fist, pulling you back against his chest. He is warm, and solid, and you fail royally as you try not to enjoy this contact. It’s ridiculous, but all you really want is for him to hold you.

He speaks against the shell of your ear, his other hand lightly encircling your throat. “I’ll never let you leave me.”

Your heart drums frantically in your chest; he means business. You can just tell, there is an unyielding hardness in his tone that somehow wasn’t quite there before. You thought you could reason with this man, but maybe you were wrong, or maybe you only succeeded in pushing his sanity the other way, further into the red.

Maybe there’s nothing left to reason with, and that is the thing that finally, truly scares you.

“Maybe you need something else to fill up that sassy mouth.”

With his improvised handle he guides you down to sit between his splayed legs. Your eyes are drawn to the newly erected tent in his pants, that formidable bulge that should be the stuff of your nightmares, but still inspires a maddening longing inside you.

Why do you have to feel so empty, when he’s near?

Frustrated by the unfairness of it all, you glare daggers up at him. You know what he’s angling to extort out of you, of course. It makes you sad, but not for the reason he might have expected. It makes you sad, because you would have rubbed your knees raw sucking him off, if he’d just asked you nicely.

“Thanks, but I’m full.”

He snorts at that. “Yeah? Someone doesn’t want her hands untied that badly.”

Now, that is something you want, and maybe you’re willing to play with that on the table. You’ve never thought of yourself as someone who is easily led, but he is good at manipulating you. It makes you wonder if any of it was ever real, or if this is just a game he’s been playing with you from day one.

The thought makes you sigh, and you rest your cheek on his lean thigh, closing your eyes.

He looks down at you like you’re a puzzle he’s not quite sure how to solve.

Welcome to the club, Mr. Wick.

“Were you planning this all along?” you ask. “When you were so sweet to me? Am I that fucking stupid that I didn’t see this coming?” Obviously, from the clothes in the closet, he’d hoped you’d come stay with him at some point, but all the rest? It feels spontaneous, like the way something hard can suddenly crack with too much pressure. But then again, maybe just because it took you by such fucking surprise.

He strokes your hair, and that gentle touch just makes it worse somehow. You feel the sting of tears in the corners of your eyes, because that gentleness is all you wanted from him. The ironic part is that he wouldn’t have had to do any of this shit, just to keep you.

You do not love easily, but once you do…it is a total, and all-consuming thing.

“I don’t know,” he answers begrudgingly. “I just…couldn’t let you leave me.”

You think about how he’d been an orphan. He’d lost his parents. He’d lost his wife. He’d lost his dog. He’d gone on a rampage and slaughtered an entire Russian Bratva…for the loss of a dog.

In perspective you guess he’d actually behaved rather tamely, at the threat of losing you. This man does nothing by halves, and the only thing John Wick fears, it seems, is losing those he loves.

Is that what he’d meant, when he said his love was a curse?

It doesn’t excuse it, but there is a key somewhere in that, you reason. A key to freedom, or the gates of Hell, you’re not really sure.

You do your best to blink away your tears. Maybe it’s stupid, because you’re not half as tough as he is, but you don’t really want him to see you cry.

He lets you sit like that for as long as you want, stroking your hair. It’s almost sweet, and it gives you time to collect yourself.

Someday, he’s going to figure out it’s best not to give you a chance to plot your next move. It occurs to you that maybe you have one last card to play.

You sit up slowly on your knees between his legs, and you can feel the intensity of his gaze weighing upon your skin. You reach for his belt, brushing his erection through his pants, his manhood twitching in anticipation. For just a second, he allows himself to close his eyes.

Maybe you have power too. You just have to figure out how to use it here, and maybe not lose you mind over how thick and wonderful he just felt beneath your hand. That unhelpful pulsing between your legs casts its vote. You try to unobtrusively squeeze your thighs for some relief, but you fear this man sees everything.

Good for you, that your voice sounds almost steady. “I have to say, you’re a brave man, Mr. Wick.”

It is not easy to work the buckle of his belt with your hands bound like this, but somehow you manage, even pulling it from its loops. You fight the urge to throw the damn thing across the room, but settle for resting it at his feet.

“How do you figure?”

“Well...” You flip open the top button of his pants, your fingers shaking slightly. “If we are engaging in that time-honored exchange of a favor for a blowjob... and you just essentially carpet bombed my mouth with napalm...wow, you do like to live dangerously.”

He sits still as a statue for a good few moments, weighing what you’re telling him, gauging if the capsaicin would transfer through your saliva to what is arguably the most sensitive area of his body. You’re 98 percent certain they would, and a part of you hopes he’ll opt to try it even after you warn him.

It would make for a neat little slice of revenge.

But then, what you really want is out of these ropes, and you hope your honesty will win you some points with him.

In the end he catches your hands, as you are awkwardly trying to work his zipper.

“Maybe we'll skip that for now.”

“You sure? Where’s your sense of adventure?”

He narrows his eyes down at you, and you wonder if you’re inventing it, or is there a glimmer of amusement in his dark eyes?

“In my other pants.”

In the end he pulls you back up into his lap with a grumble.

You suspect you’ve only delayed the inevitable, but you feel some satisfaction for your little coup.

“I’ll be back,” he tells you, (threatens you?), depositing you on the bed, gathering the dishes and sweeping out of the room. You have a feeling this interaction was not half as satisfying as he’d hoped it would be.

Well, good.

Bastard.

-When he returns, he brings you a cup of milk. Though most of the pain from the chilis has already subsided by now, you accept it for the calorie count if anything.

“Are you alright?” he asks with a hand on your cheek, looking you over appraisingly.

Thinking this might be your best moment, you lift your bound hands with a pitiful pout, blinking your eyelashes innocently.

“Will you untie me now?” you ask in your sweetest tone, words loaded with contrition.

“You think you’ve earned it?” he asks, and you sense this is a perilous path you’re approaching.

“I’ve been good.”

“Hmm.”

“Come on. I mouthed off. You punished me. You had your fun. And rather than give in to my initial vindictive impulses, I saved you from a very uncomfortable evening. It’s the least you can do.”

He actually chuckles at this, stroking your cheek with his thumb. He seems softened by your bright little tirade, but then this man’s mood can change on a dime.

“And, it’s starting to hurt,” you add.

It’s not a lie, and it seems that is the thing that makes him pause.

“You don’t like my knot work?”

Your heart lodges in your throat, and you know you must proceed with caution, or you’ll be wearing this shit for a week at least.

“Your knots are very fine, Mr. Wick.”

Your captor practically purrs at hearing that, a low rumbling sound from deep in his chest, his hand burying in your hair. It sends a tingling thrill all across your scalp.

You’ve come to reluctantly love his fixation with grabbing your mane.

You really are losing your mind.

“I’ll make you a deal, kitten.”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll untie you…if you will take a bath with me.” His tone is the low rumble of a jungle cat, and your heart leaps into your throat. You knew this was coming, eventually. Maybe you just didn’t expect it tonight.

Looking back, you’re not sure why.

“NowI get to see you?”

You are still puzzling over the way he’d outright prevented you from undressing him, in Venice. It was almost like he’d been afraid, and you don’t understand at all. He’s fucking gorgeous, and you’re pretty sure he knows it. So…why?

“I told you, you weren’t ready then.”

You suspect the real answer is that he wasn’t ready, but for once, you don’t contradict him.

He runs a finger down the line of his neat knots that are starting to bite into your flesh. It’s starting to affect the feeling in your fingers, and you know that can’t be good.

“So? What do you say?”

You crane your neck to look up at him, drinking in the lines of his handsome face, his straight nose and proud lips, and the delicately drawn sweep of his eyes. Even with the shadow of a black eye, courtesy of you, he’s still the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. You shouldn’t want him, after everything he’s done to you. You shouldn’t, but you feel yourself inevitably drawn to him, like the moon pulls the tide.

You feel like you’re signing a piece of your soul away to the devil on the dotted line, when at last you nod.

He puts a hand to his ear with a smirk. “What was that?”

Your groan comes out like a growl.

“You have a deal, Mr. Wick, sir.”

His low rumble of approval gives you chills, and when he turns your face up to kiss you sweetly you utterly melt beneath his hands, jarred by the contrast from earlier, but not questioning it. You bask in the press of his soft lips, greedy for his tenderness, hoping stupidly that this is the way things will be from now on. Then you yelp with surprise as suddenly he scoops you up with his hands on your thighs, carrying you into the bathroom.

#please enjoy this absolute chonk of a chapter #you guys have earned it!#i loooove you!!!!#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #john wick fic #keanu reeves x reader #bittersweet john wick imagine #yandere john wick x you #yandere john wick #yandere

255 notes · View notes

emmyrosee · 1 year ago

Note

What’s up homeslice. I’m here because I’m on a Haikyuu bender and I know you’ve got the sweet sweet hookup.

So hear me out… I am a taller individual(5’8 to be more precise). We see a lot of content out there for ladies of average or shorter stature(I love all you small people out there, don’t you dare think otherwise) so I beseech thee: nishinoya, yaku, hoshiumi, Kenma, atsumu, hell maybe even suna. Any of these wonderful gents just being absolutely infatuated with a tall(ish) s/o.

If you don’t wanna do it, no worries my dude, I can smell what yer steppin in and I respect it, no problemo. Love peace and bacon grease my homie ✌️

Oh HELL YEAH MATE!!!! 5’9 representative 🥳🥳 also I want to eat this prompt for breakfast how could I NOT take it the hell you think this is??

Also as always my pieces are in timeskip but the gifs give me some organization so don’t @ me

Listen. Nishinoya would be in straight denial that you’d have reciprocated feelings for him because like. You’re you, okay; he worships the ground you walk on, but now knowing that you truly are into it, it increases tenfold.

“This isn’t even cat walking. This is goddess walking. This is queen walking. Here-“ he drops to his knees to give the ground, be it on cement or hardwood at home, a quick playful dust with his hands, shaking his head and relishing in the laugh you let out. “How could I possibly let my queen walk on the filth left behind by me?”

“Truly,” you snicker, and you lean down to meet him halfway for a kiss, which he rises on his haunches to reciprocate. “But I like your mess.”

“I like you,” he mumbles against your lips.

Yaku. My underrated loml. There’s minimal I wouldn’t do for this man. He’s so good to you and confident in himself that flirting with you came easy- turns out that you flirting back was his weakness.

He’s a complete victim of the psychology okay, you’re already taller than him, you already rock your height and are proud of it that you two just click.

And he’s so protective of you, it drives you wild; he knows your comfortable in your height, you far need him for protection, but that’s not the point. If anyone dare say anything about his beautiful lady, be it in any way but respectful, he truly turns into an attack dog, letting you watch in satisfaction as he completely tears apart whoever look at you the wrong way.

There was an incident you had to patch him up after a fight. But the way dazed and adoring eyes looked up at you, smiling a bloody smile and re-splitting his lip that almost makes his rare altercations worth it.

HOSHIUMI!!!! IS!!!! A NEW LOVE OF MINE!!!! CAME OUTTA NOWHERE FOR REAL!!!

And I so love to think he put the moves on you first, just flirting and sending you playful vibes because he’s a short king who’s confident in his height, and god it has you completely whipped.

He’s always so quick to hype you up in very Nishinoya-fashion, and he’s so unapologetic about having you on his arm, that anytime you enter a room, he not only opens the door for you, he steps ahead and yells out a swift “EXCUSE ME EVERYONE! Out of the way, please! Queen coming through!”

The sheer volume does have people parting to let you both come in, your hand laced with his and proud smirk on his face.

There’s very seldom a time that his cheeks aren’t completely painted with stains of tinted lip balms or lipstick, and he wears them like a badge of honor as you bend down to give them.

Woof. Atsumu. What else can I say about my pretty, goofy, dumb blonde?

What else can I say about the way he completely melts when you wear his jerseys, because they fall just slightly against your hips and when you reach up, a sliver of your skin comes out?

What else can I say about the way his eyes never leave you for long, be it when you’re in two day old sweats, or gown he splurged god knows how much on just to see you wear it?

What else can I say about how you rest your head on his shoulders while in line at the market, and he takes selfish inhales of your scent?

God. GOD.

Marking him up with lipstick and glossy marks isn’t foreign, even getting so cocky he merely taps his cheek no matter where you are, for a show offy kiss just to flex your height to everyone watching.

Okay. You know what’s up. Kenma is the og. He’s the number one. I LOVE this man. And he LOVES hyping you up in possessive, hot ways. For eXAMPLE, there’s a picture of you on his Instagram where you’re dawned in heels in preparation for a banquet for his sponsorships, towering over him with your back facing the mirror in your stunning form, and he’s merely smirking back into the camera. It looks chic, it looks smooth, and the caption has his entire fandom in a tizzy: “mom and dad say sit.”

Sure enough, when the comments are filled with suggestive comments and tons of “SORRY MOMMY-“ you scold him for his cheeky post, but secretly love the attention.

One time, you posed as Lady Dimitrescu, towering high over him, and he as Ethan Winters and by the time you woke up the next morning, it quickly rose to his most popular post.

What can he say? He likes being walked like a dog.

*sneezes* Suna’s is a lil dirty so minors pls go away for this part on, but here’s a Suna gif to make up for it

But. BUT-

I just relish in the thought of him not making you lift a finger; treating you like royalty for simply existing.

It’s why he never says anything as he sees you dressing up for sponsor events, instead guiding you to sit down while he fetches the brand new heels that go with the brand new dress he spoils you with. He tugs the seam of his pants up slightly before getting down on one knee and grabbing your foot and slipping the shoe on for you. His hands are gentle, and his lips leave adoring kisses along your knees and calves, tongue laving over your nylon covered flesh feverishly.

It makes you sink your teeth into your lip and tighten your thighs in need.

“You are fucking breathtaking,” he pants, letting his bottom lip draw along the length of your shin.

“I know, baby,” you whisper, matching his tone dominantly.

“You never cease to amaze me; made by the fucking gods, truly.”

“Rintaro-“

“Worship every inch of skin on this body-“

“We’re going to be late,” you snicker, rising to your feet and getting accustomed to the added five inches. He doesn’t move, merely smiling up at you, and you can practically see the invisible tail wagging behind him.

“I could stare at you forever,” he rasps. “I’d pay a sponsor to move his charity event if it meant I could rip this dress off you right now, make you scream my name.”

You giggle easily as he does, finally, get up, looking up at you with a bite of his lip. “If you behave tonight,” you begin, and he lets his eyes glaze over you one more time.

“I’ll let you.”

558 notes · View notes

waywardxrhea · 9 months ago

Text

My Consequence - a Sam Winchester one shot

pairing: Sam Winchester x fem!hunter!reader (no use of y/n)

word count: 5.7k

"when you spill your guts they don't go back in...if I bleed too much it's my consequence..." - hey violet, my consequence

One thing leads to another after a hunt and you end up spilling your guts to the man you've been pining after for years.

content: 18+ minors DNI! sleep deprivation, show accurate violence on a hunt, blood, language, humor, fluff, light angst, smut (PWP but it's a lot more plot whoops, making out, grinding, unprotected sex)

(not my gif)

You sat at the desk in the Men of Letters bunker one morning, your tired eyes trying to focus on the board that could show a litany of cases that need to be worked, and boy had you and the boys been working on them. You had barely gotten but four hours of sleep over the past week, maybe, because you couldn’t sleep at night knowing how many people out there could be suffering without your help. Sam and Dean didn’t know it, but you had been sneaking out at night to work the nearby cases by yourself and then getting a nap in before getting woken up to do it all over again. Needless to say, you were exhausted.

“You find anything?” Sam asked as he made his way into the room, a cup of coffee in his hand.

“Hey you didn’t get me any?” you asked teasingly when you saw the cup in his hand. Sam was about to offer to go make you a cup when your eyes flickered to a part of the screen as you found a case about an hour away. “Hey I found something.”

“What is it?” he asked, wandering over in your direction.

“It’s sounding like a ghoul. There’s a report of this family seeing someone who looks uncannily like their long time neighbor who passed away a few weeks ago. I’m not seeing any suspicious activity in the town so far but I think it’s worth looking into.”

“Good eye, I’ll get Dean,” he told you.

While he said this, Dean came into the room and said, “No can do, I’ve been asked to get rid of a vengeful ghost for a friend of a friend. I’m about to head out. You kids are on your own.”

“Okay, yeah, it’s nothing we can’t handle,” Sam said with a nod, sure of your abilities as a team, not knowing that you were operating on maybe a ten minute nap this morning.

“Sounds like a plan,” you said, getting up from your chair and starting to make your way to your room to get changed and gather some supplies you had stored away there.

After an hour's drive consisting of you consulting your parents’ old hunting journal for tips of how to take down ghouls, the pair of you arrived in the small neighborhood that had popped up on the map in the bunker. You straightened out your blouse as you got out of the car, trying to make it look perfect before the pair of you walked up to the reporting neighbor’s door. Sam noticed and chuckled as he told you, “You look great, don’t worry about it.”

This compliment ignited a slight blush on your cheeks that you hid as you leaned down into the trunk to grab your FBI badges. When you regained your composure you stood up straight and told him, “Thank you, you look great too. Very professional.”

Sam smiled at the compliment before straightening his tie and heading up the sidewalk in front of you. When you reached the front door, Sam knocked gently and waited for an answer. After a few seconds the inner door swung open to reveal a disheveled middle aged woman with a child on her hip. The two of you flashed your badges before Sam started with, “Ma’am, we’re with the FBI and heard about some strange occurrences going on around here. I was just wondering if we could come in.”

A sense of relief seemed to flood the woman’s body and she quickly ushered the two of you in, checking the coast behind you before closing the door. When you all sat down in the kitchen, the child playing quietly on the floor, the woman paced as she said, “Oh thank God you two are here. I’ve been telling the sheriffs office about Dan for a few days but they keep calling me crazy! They’re telling me that I’m just so used to seeing him that my brain is playing tricks on me, but I know that I’ve seen him!”

“Can you tell me more about this Dan person?” you asked.

“What do you want to know? I’ve known the man almost my whole life. He’s been my neighbor since my family moved here when I was five. A bit reclusive, but sweet nonetheless. He collected old war regalia, I swear his house was like a museum, it was so fun to explore growing up. He died about a month back, but I swear I saw him coming in and out of the back woods last weekend. I think I saw him again last night but… I haven’t been sleeping ever since that first time I saw him so maybe my mind is playing tricks on me…”

“I see,” you said while writing the details down in your own notebook. “Do you mind if I ask what kind of burial Dan had?”

The question shocked the woman as well as Sam so he quickly interjected with, “Sometimes reliving the experience can help with unpacking the mind if you’ve been overwhelmed. Maybe we can talk through it so we can address what’s possibly going on mentally.” Sam shot you a confused and concerned look out of the corner of his eye as the woman closed hers and massaged her temples. You were usually so sharp and cunning when it came to questioning witnesses, so with a slip-up like that Sam was starting to wonder what was going on with you…

When the woman finished rubbing her head, she opened her eyes and said, “Oh okay… well he had an open casket funeral in the park where he got married to his wife who passed away a few years ago. Not many people showed up except family and a few of us from the neighborhood.”

“Have you talked with anyone else in the neighborhood about these sightings? Perhaps anyone else who was at the funeral?” you asked.

“No, I haven’t left the house and a lot of them I don’t have their numbers to contact,” she replied. “The neighborhood isn’t as close as it used to be back in the day.”

“Do you mind if we talk with them to see if they’ve seen anything?” Sam asked.

“Be my guest,” she replied with a nod.

So you and Sam split up to talk with the other neighbors, keeping an eye on your surroundings for the man who was supposed to be dead. After about an hour, you and Sam met back up at the car to go over what you both knew.

“So two of the neighbors say that they don’t really pay attention to the woods but thought they might have heard something rustling around in them the other night,” you told him.

Sam rubbed the stubble on his chin as he said, “One I talked with told me that her son swears that he saw Dan heading toward the woods last night but she also said that she smelled weed and liquor on him when he told her so she didn’t believe him.”

“Well all clues say that if this is a ghoul he’s hiding in the woods so I guess we gear up and head into the belly of the beast,” you suggested as you opened the trunk and started grabbing weapons that could be useful: a couple of machetes as well as a shotgun just in case. If it was a ghoul you would need to destroy its head or decapitate it to kill it. Sam debated on asking you if you were feeling okay or if you needed to sit this one out but before he could you were already marching toward the woods, weapon on your hip.

As you headed into the woods, you lagged behind, your shorter legs unable to keep up with Sam as per usual. “Hold on, I’ve got little legs!” you said with a laugh as you jogged to catch up.

“Right, right. I forget how vertically challenged you are,” Sam said with a smirk.

“Or you’re just ridiculously tall,” you teased with a nudge to his ribs.

Teasing aside, Sam seemed to notice something so he put his hand up to signal for you to be quiet and you obliged, knowing that if Sam noticed something it was serious. As he inspected something hanging from the tree limb above, you heard a crack of branches in the nearby grove. Ready to attack at a moment’s notice, your hand went to the handle of your machete in case you needed to start swinging.

The next few seconds happened in a blur and you acted on instinct alone when you saw a figure barreling toward the pair of you, more specifically toward Sam’s turned back, brandishing an old Civil War type dagger. “Sam!” you shouted before jumping between the two men, swinging your machete at the ghoul, only to miss and drop your weapon as you doubled over onto the ground.

Sam reacted quickly once he heard you call out his name, grabbing the ghoul’s arm before he could get a hit in on him and quickly swinging his own machete at the monster, decapitating it with ease. When he started to fully take in the scene though, things began to move in slow motion. As he turned around to the last place he heard your voice he saw you clutching your abdomen and falling to the ground. His eyes went wide as he shouted your name in worry.

Once you hit the ground Sam was right there, holding you in his arms and listening to you say, “I’m fine, I’m fine,” as you attempted to get up.

Sam went to move the hair out of his eyes when he noticed that his hand that was previously on your abdomen was covered in blood. “I need to get you to the hospital,” he told you, trying to remain calm as he forced his voice to stay steady.

“It’s okay, I’ll be fine, nothing a few stitches back at the bunker can’t fix,” you said, the adrenaline pumping through your veins not letting you feel the pain fully just yet. You took the moment to try and stand again but couldn’t, so you looked down at your shirt that was starting to slowly soak through with dark red blood. “Oh…” you said quietly, voice barely above a whisper.

“I need to get you outta here…” Sam said again, taking off his jacket and wrapping it tightly around you before picking you up and starting to sprint back toward the car. As he reached the car, he shouted to a neighbor, “Where’s the nearest hospital?!”

“It’s about half an hour away, head east and you’ll see it as you’re heading into the city,” the man told him. He saw the blood on Sam’s hands and asked with wide eyes, “Do you want me to call an ambulance?”

Sam didn’t respond as he placed you in the passenger seat before sprinting to his side of the car and speeding off, trying to keep pressure on the wound as he drove. After a few minutes, he looked over and saw your eyes starting to flutter shut so he took his hand off the wound to squeeze your hand and told you, “Stay with me…”

“I’m here, I’m here,” you replied quietly, your voice starting to get weak as your breathing began to grow shallow. “I’m just really tired…”

“No, no, no, no,” he said quickly, “you stay with me. You stay awake okay? We’re almost there.” he told you while putting more pressure on the gas pedal, hoping to cut the trip in half at least.

“I’ll try,” you replied weakly.

“Here, let’s talk. Let’s talk about that band you like, what is it, Party at the Disco?”

You laughed wearily before correcting him, “Panic! At the Disco, Sammy.”

“And how’s that one song go that you’re always singing? The one about the doors?”

“I really need you to pay attention to my music from now on because those were horrible guesses,” you told him with a weak laugh once again. You paused for a moment before adding, “Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for always looking out for me,” you told him. “I know things haven’t always been the best between us but... You make my days brighter.”

“What- why are you talking like that?” he asked, his eyes momentarily leaving the road to glance at you.

“I’m losing a lot of blood Sammy, life isn’t guaranteed and you know it. I just wanted you to know how much I appreciate you,” you told him quietly. He could feel your hands and skin beginning to grow cold against his own as he held your hand.

“Don’t talk like that, don’t act like you’re saying goodbye. We’re almost to the hospital, you’re gonna make it through this,” he told you, his voice almost breaking at the thought of losing you. He saw the hospital in the distance and sped up impossibly faster, spotting the emergency room and heading in that direction.

Once he pulled in front of the building, he slammed the brakes of the car and sprinted over to your side, pulling you out of the seat and starting to carry you into the building. As he carried you in, you started to fade in and out of consciousness, whispering weakly, “I’m scared Sammy…”

“I know, but you’ll make it. I know you will,” he told you as he got you inside. The second you were inside, he shouted, “Help! She needs help!”

“Oh my God,” the nurse at the desk gasped with wide eyes, seeing the amount of blood that had soaked your shirt and bled onto Sam’s.

The nurse shouted for help and a group of people came sprinting over with a stretcher to get you back into a room. As Sam placed you on the stretcher, you looked up at him and felt like this could be your last shot to confess your feelings, so you whispered, “Thank you Sam. I love you…” before getting wheeled off to be worked on.

“Wait…!” he shouted after you as you were taken away. Did you just say what he thought you did?

He tried to follow the workers, but was held back by a couple of male nurses who told him, “They need room to work, please calm down sir!”

“But… I just… Shit…” he whispered, his body deflating as your words hitting him right in the heart.

“Can you tell us what happened?” one of the nurses asked.

Sam hesitated for a moment, shock taking over his body, but he eventually replied, “Occupational hazard. A perp went after her. Big gash on her abdomen. I got her here as fast as I could…” Did she just say she loved me? he thought to himself as he was escorted to a chair by the nurses.

“We’re going to do what we can to help her, I’ll keep you updated as we know more,” he told Sam before heading back to the floor to see your status.

Sam sat for a minute with his head in his hands before going out to move his car and call Dean. “Hey Sammy, what’s up? Did you get that ghoul taken care of?” came Dean’s voice through the phone. Sam couldn’t find the words he wanted to say and the silence bugged Dean so he asked, “Sam are you okay?”

“She got hurt. Badly, Dean,” he said quietly, his voice shaking.

“Well how bad is badly?” he asked, concern in his voice.

“God there was so much blood…” Sam whispered, looking down at one of his blood stained hands while shaking his head.

“Well, is she alive?! I need something more than things are bad!” Dean nearly shouted into the phone.

“Barely. By the time we got to the hospital she had almost passed out, she was pale, and I think she felt like she was gonna die…”

“Oh wow…” Dean replied quietly. “Where are you?”

“It’s fine Dean, take care of that ghost,” Sam told him, not really wanting company because he was still trying to process everything.

“The damn ghost can wait, I already trapped it. I can tell them to try and look for his possessions while I’m gone. I’m already getting in Baby,” Dean said and Sam could hear the impala roar to life. Once the noise level was suitable to hear over the phone again, he asked, “Have you tried contacting Cas?”

“I didn’t think about it,” Sam admitted quietly.

“Sam, we have an angel at our disposal who can heal with one touch and you didn’t think to call him when there’s a life-threatening injury on our hands?” Dean asked, a bit of frustration seeping into his voice.

“Everything happened so fast I just didn’t think about it,” Sam replied defensively. He let out a sigh before adding, “I’m at Woodcrest General on the outskirts of Hoover.”

“I’m on my way. You start praying to Cas and I’ll try his cell. Got it?”

“Got it,” Sam replied before hanging up the phone and heading back inside.

When he emerged back into the building, the nurse at the desk told him, “If you want a pair of scrubs and to clean off I can get you access to the shower room, Agent.”

“Oh, yeah, thanks,” Sam told her, really not wanting to be in his blood soaked clothes anymore. As the nurse took him to the shower room, he asked, “Are there any updates on her?“

“She was rushed down to the OR just now. The doctor said it doesn’t look like there’s too much internal damage, she just lost a lot of blood. She… she did lose consciousness right as transport was taking her down to the OR though.”

“Damnit…” Sam whispered, closing his eyes and sighing.

“It’ll be a little while before we have answers, I’m sorry. Maybe the shower will help calm you down a bit,” she told him as she let him into the room and showed him the cabinet with scrubs in it.

“Thanks,” he told her before she headed back out. Sam took his time with the shower, washing all the blood out from his skin and hair and taking a few minutes to just cry. How could he have let this happen? It’s always been his and Dean’s unspoken job to watch out for you and he failed… He should have stopped you from heading into those damn woods…

After he dried off and put some scrubs from the cabinet on, Sam closed his eyes and folded his hands as he began to pray. “Castiel. I know you’re probably busy, but I really need you." His voice broke as he whispered your name, telling the angel, "We were on a hunt and…and she was hurt badly and I’m not sure if this hospital has the ability to heal her. I know it’s a long shot and we shouldn’t use your grace so willy nilly, but… I can’t lose her… Amen.”

Freshened up, Sam made his way to the waiting area where he sat alone with his thoughts, occasionally praying to Cas again in hope that he would hear his call.

The time crawled by and felt like forever even though it was only a few hours before Sam heard, “Agent Williams?” coming from the same nurse from earlier.

Sam looked up with hope in his eyes and asked, “Yes ma’am?”

“She’s out of surgery now. I can take you to her room,” she said with a small smile.

“Thank you,” he told her, relief flooding his body.

While they walked together to the nearby elevators, she told him, “I don’t want to give you false hope, she isn’t out of the woods yet. The surgeon closed her up, but there may be complications. This hospital doesn’t usually see cases like Agent Hanna’s.”

“Oh…” Sam said, desperately hoping that Cas heard his prayers now.

“Don’t get me wrong, he’s a great surgeon, but he just doesn’t deal with severe injuries like hers on the regular. I don’t say that to scare you, but we just have to be realistic here. If she gets any worse we may have to transport her out to a bigger hospital.”

“Got it,” he replied as they reached the floor that you were on.

“Here’s her room. She’s still out of it and receiving blood right now,” the nurse told him as she opened the door to let him in.

“Thank you,” he told her with a nod before heading into the room. He took out his phone and texted Dean the floor and room number before pulling up a chair beside your bed. He took a moment to look at your still pale skin and grabbed your hand as he whispered, “I’m so sorry…”

After a few minutes, Sam closed his eyes and sent one last prayer Castiel’s way before he jumped when he heard a sharp knock on the door as it opened up. He looked up to see Dean and Cas coming into the room, looks of concern on their faces. “How is she?” Dean asked.

“I mean she’s alive… The nurse told me that there may be complications though and if she doesn’t get better soon they may have to ship her off to a bigger facility,” Sam replied quietly, looking at the monitor to watch your heart rate. After a few moments of silence, he told them, “She sacrificed herself to save me. That ghoul was coming at us quick and my back was turned so she jumped in. She barely got a swing in on it before it got her with a dagger.”

“Did you get the ghoul?” Cas asked.

“Yeah. But then I saw how much she was bleeding… God there was so much blood…” he whispered, his voice breaking. He cleared his throat before adding, “She seemed like she thought she was gonna die because before they took her back she told me that she loved me…”

Dean scoffed before muttering, “About damn time…”

“What does that mean?” Sam asked, his eyebrows furrowing together.

“Sam, you’re about as oblivious as a brick wall. That girl has loved you for years. She never told you because, well, you know how she is. She doesn’t like stepping on toes and would rather others be happy before she is so she let you get into all these relationships and faked being happy for you while she not so secretly drank away her pain.”

“I… I had no idea…” Sam whispered. All the times you had shown him what he thought was sisterly affection, the moments where you tried to make him laugh in his darkest moments, how you’ve stuck by his side through everything, all came flooding to him and he realized that even if it wasn’t obvious, he had started to develop feelings for you too.

“Well now you do and once she’s healed up you better make the most of it,” Dean told him.

“Why didn’t you say something before?” Sam asked, feeling horrible that he’s led you to so much pain throughout the years.

“It wasn’t my place,” Dean replied simply.

Interrupting their conversation, Cas cleared his throat and said, “I don’t mean to interrupt this conversation about feelings, but if I could maybe look at her wound to see if I can heal her…”

“Right,” Sam said, standing up and getting out of the way so Cas could lift up your gown to see the damage.

When the gown was pulled away, it was revealed that the dressing the surgeon had put on was soaked through with blood already. Seeing this, Sam sighed and ran his fingers through his hair as he began to pace the room. “Sam calm down,” Dean told him sternly.

“She’s still bleeding!” Sam said back sharply.

“And he’s an angel!” Dean snapped back, not wanting to show that he was worried too.

“I should be able to heal her,” Cas told Sam reassuringly as he laid his hand over the dressing. He closed his eyes and channeled his grace to heal the wound, sealing it up and repairing the bits of undetected internal damage as well. Once the angel grace’s light left his body, he nodded and said, “She’s healed,” before replacing your gown and covering you back up.

Sam sighed in relief and smiled before whispering, “Thank you.”

A few moments later, your eyes began to flutter open and you looked around before weakly whispering, “Sam?”

“Yeah? I’m here, I’m here, you’re safe,” he told you as he made his way back over to your side. He took your hand before nodding to Cas and telling you, “Cas healed you.”

“Oh, thank you Cas,” you said with a small smile.

“No problem,” he replied with a nod.

There was a moment of silence while you looked down at your hand that was being held by Sam’s, so Dean said, “I think there’s something you two need to talk about. We’ll be in the waiting area. Come on Cas.”

Once it was just the two of you in the room, Sam cleared his throat before he said, “So about what you said right before you were taken away…”

Remembering that you told him that you loved him, you quickly looked away and said, “I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to make things weird… I know you want a normal girl with a normal life and I… I can’t give that to you…”

“Hey, hey, look at me,” Sam said softly. You shyly turned back toward him and he told you, “I was just shocked. I think I've accepted that normal just isn’t gonna work out for me. Dean told me that you’ve been feeling that way for a while now and… I guess I’m just wondering if you would want to give us a shot?”

A smile made its way onto your face and you nodded, a happy tear slipping from your eye. Sam leaned in to kiss you, but you stopped him, saying with a laugh, “No, no. I don’t want our first kiss to be in this damn hospital room.”

“Fair enough,” Sam said with a quiet laugh, redirecting and placing a gentle kiss on your forehead instead. After a few seconds, Sam told you, “Thank you. For saving me from that ghoul. I should've been looking out for you though.”

“Any time,” you replied with a small laugh.

Later that day when the doctor came to assess your wound, he was a bit taken back by the healing of it, saying, “It’s a miracle…”

“It really is, isn’t it?” Cas asked, trying to hide his smirk.

“So when’s she clear to go home, Doc?” Dean asked.

“I mean we would like to hold her overnight for observation, but if all goes well she should be able to discharge tomorrow,” he replied, still staring at the scar on your abdomen.

Sam took a step away and bit his knuckle, trying not to laugh as the surgeon stepped out of the room, a flabbergasted look on his face. When he left the room, Dean was the first to speak, saying, “Okay let’s all admit, that man had no confidence in himself.”

“Nope,” Sam said with a laugh.

“I’m glad Cas showed up if that’s the dude who operated on me, damn…” you said with a roll of your eyes.

“I’m glad I could be of service,” Cas told you with a smile.

“Well if you’re stable now, I think Cas and I can head back to that ghost case I abandoned to come check on you. I’ll see you later kid,” Dean said to you before squeezing your shoulder and heading out of the room with Cas in tow.

The next morning you were discharged so you and Sam made your way back to the bunker together. The ride back was filled with you playing your favorite songs to educate Sam as well as stopping at a restaurant for your first official date.

When you got back to the bunker, Sam closed the door to the garage behind you and you wrapped your arms around him before standing on your tiptoes to kiss him. Sam smiled into the kiss and placed his hands on your hips, pulling you closer. This prompted you to deepen the kiss, swiping your tongue on his bottom lip, wanting more. Sam obliged and your kisses quickly turned desperate, wanting something more than a simple kiss now that you were in each other’s arms.

Before he even thought about it, Sam lifted you into his strong arms and began kissing your neck as he took you to his room, leaving the beginnings of a hickey behind. As he did this, little whimpers began to slip from your lips as pleasure sparked through your body. When he got to his room, Sam pinned you against the door as he began to kiss you once again. Being in such a vulnerable position made you weak in the knees and you moaned Sam’s name as you continued to lose yourselves in one another's lips.

“Yeah?” he asked as he moved back to your neck, sucking and making the hickey darker, evoking another whimper from your lips that just fueled him more.

“God I need you so bad,” you whispered, grinding your hips against him in hopes of some sort of relief for the growing tension between your thighs.

“How about I make that wish come true?” he asked as he took you to his bed, gently putting you down before slipping out of his flannel and undershirt. You followed suit, slipping off your shirt and earning a smile from Sam as he told you, “You’re beautiful.”

“You’re so sweet,” you said with a giggle as Sam got onto the bed, placing you on his lap as he continued to kiss you. Now it was your turn to tease him. As you kissed, you slowly ground down on Sam’s lap, feeling him grow harder beneath you as you did.

“Shit,” Sam breathed as he leaned his head back against the wall, bucking his hips up against you.

You kissed his neck before whispering in his ear, “I want you to rock me Sammy.”

“Yes ma’am,” he replied with a chuckle, unbuckling his belt while you hopped off the bed momentarily. You turned your back to him as you took off your bra and then sweats and panties, teasing him by shaking your ass at him with a laugh. “Oh you’re gonna get it for that,” he said with a laugh as he slipped off his jeans and underwear, standing up to pull you into his arms once more.

Sam pushed against you, teasing you with the tip of his hard cock, the sparks of pleasure making him desperate for more. He lifted you up once more and placed you on the bed, running his fingers along your thigh and up to your clit, making you gasp in pleasure. “Don’t be a tease,” you whispered.

“I’m just seeing how wet you are,” he said with a smirk before kissing your neck as he slipped a couple fingers in with ease.

“God Sam I just want you to fuck me,” you said with desperation in your voice, grinding against his fingers, wanting - no, needing - more.

“As you wish,” he said, his voice impossibly deep as he pulled his fingers out and rubbed the slick on his cock. “I see patience isn’t your strong suit, huh?” he asked teasingly as he lined up with your entrance. Without much of a warning, he thrusted in with a deep moan.

“Fuck you’re amazing,” you whispered, your head falling back on the pillow as Sam slowly began to kick up his pace, the pleasure overcoming his body as restraint started to leave his muscles.

“So are you,” he told you, his face falling into the crook of your neck as he let out a soft groan of pleasure.

“Can I try something?“ he asked after a few minutes of slow and sweet love-making, feeling his release starting to build and wanting to make this as good as possible for you.

“Yeah,” you replied with a nod. With your permission, Sam lifted your legs up and hooked them around his broad shoulders, the new angle hitting all the right spots, the pleasure for both of you becoming insurmountable. The moan alone that you let out was almost enough to make Sam come, and your near pornographic whimpering of his name upped the ante even more.

Sam brought one of his hands to your clit and began rubbing, desperate to make you feel as good as possible and it seemed to work because your moans and whimpers just kept coming and it was almost enough to make him burst. “Fuck I’m close,” Sam whispered, speeding up his pace as his thrusts started to become erratic.

“Me too,” you breathed, your hands grasping at the sheets on either side of you as your eyes rolled into the back of your head momentarily.

“Fuck…” Sam grunted as he felt his orgasm building impossibly fast, not wanting this feeling to end.

“Oh my God, Sam, Sam!” you moaned as you felt herself coming undone around him. The pulsing of your sweet cunt around him drove Sam over the edge and he pulled out at the last second, moaning your name in a deep gravelly voice. Before he came, Sam quickly grabbed his shirt off the side of the bed and put it around himself so he wouldn't make a mess as he came undone, his muscles twitching as he did so.

Out of breath, Sam tossed the shirt aside and laid down beside you on the bed wrapping an arm around you, completely relaxed. You rested your head on his chest and listened to his racing heartbeat begin to slow down as you ran your fingers along his abs. “That was amazing,” Sam whispered, kissing the top of your head.

“Well worth the wait,” you replied with a giggle.

Not even a few seconds later you began to drift off to sleep on Sam’s chest which made him smile. Feeling completely relaxed and safe for the first time in a while, you drifted off to sleep and finally got the rest you’d been needing for weeks.

a/n: and here we are at the end of my second one shot! since i started writing these one shots i've started to feel more confident in writing reader fics so we'll see if i end up getting out more one shots for various fandoms! here is a link to my (minimal at the moment) masterlist where you can find my Steve Rogers long fic as well as a Bucky Barnes one shot. soon to join those will be a Daredevil x OC fic i have written, so be on the lookout for that if that's one of your fandoms! anyways, i hope you all enjoyed this sweet, angsty, fluffy, smutty piece!

#sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #supernatural #one shot #pwp #fanfic #fluff #smut #sam winchester x female reader #saving people hunting things #light angst

202 notes · View notes

danaduchy · 2 months ago

Text

all texts from Kerry

Found Henry Holy shit, Henry's on board. Way to go! Check outta rehab of his own free will… thru the window, hehe. Some nurse tried to stop us - at first I thought she wanted an autograph, but she didnt even recognize me. Tell you the rest later How's it going with Nancy? S'all under control That's what I like to hear

Samurai's back together What about Johnny? He amped for this gig or meh? * As amped as he's ever been. Must be important to him cuz otherwise I wouldnt be forced to take this stupid pseudoendotrizine * Hard to say. You know how he is Well I'm amped as fuck, if anyone's wonderin. It'll be fuckin shimra - just gotta remember not to get too wasted before. Old habits die hard, haha

Waiting for you Kerry? Where are you? On the way. Chill. Gotta change

What's up, V? Too bad you split so quick after the concert - we didn't even get a chance to chat I barely know anything about you, except you've got a shit-ton goin on inside You're the one who left early That so? Hm, maybe. Anyway, it was fuckin nova, wasn't it? Shoulda recorded it for you cause you didn't catch anything thru Johnny

Hey! Heey. So I cant stop thinkin about our little adventure. FUCKIN AWESOME. Thats how you live life. ON THE EDGE :> * Who doesnt like explosions and races right? :) Lemme know if the rest of your plan worked out Sure, I'll text or call ;) If I can't convince you to blow up anythin else, then at least we can go for a drink. Take care! * Egh, day just like any other. Hope it helped you tho Pff, sound more nonchalant than a karaoke star from kabuki ;) I'll be in touch

Coffee at Caliente Know what? I'm glad we got a chance to talk over coffee. You're a straight shooter, V. Nothing like the ass-kissers I'm usually surrounded by. It's good we did what we did, right? Blowing that van to bits? Cuz I been thinking… * To be honest, got no clue if anything good will come of it. I agreed cuz you paid me. Honest as ever, huh? Means I was right about you. Appreciate that, V. I really do. Don't ever change. * It was the right thing to do. And you've got nitro running through your veins. Don't you ever let yourself think otherwise! Nitro in my veins? Yeah, and a fuse sticking out of my ass. Least that's what I felt back then. Was worth it, though - slept like a fucking baby for the first time in ages. Talk to you later. Thanks again!

Reward Hey, forgot to send the eddies before, but should hit your account any sec. PREEM WORK :>

Where are you? Well, where are you? At this rate I'm gonna be a fuckin skeleton by the time you get here.. Move your ass or forget about this whole thing Dunno where you are or what you're up to, but I'm a busy fuckin man. Forget about it - don't have time for this shit Srsly, V? Ditched me with the badges and split? Shitty move. We're fuckin THROUGH Where the fuck are you? Grrr doesnt matter. I'm checkin out, goin home. Call ya if somethin comes up

answer yr phone!!! Hey, V. Got a job for you. Corner of Grey and Mallagra. Be there first thing in the morning, we'll talk it over. I'm fucking livid, V! Those Us Cracks bitches clearly didn't get the hint. Instead of cancelling after we blew up their truck, they just moved their show to another date! Meet me at Riot ASAP. We'll deal with them differently this time. The Us Skanks still wanna fuck me over and record the cover, V! On top of that, their lawyers won't stop yappin'. We really need to talk. I'm at Dark Matter right now. Come 'round the back, the bouncers will let you in. It's easier to reach my dead grandma than you, V! Anyway, Us Cracks are done, for real this time. We should celebrate! Stop by Dark Matter. Use the back entrance.

What's up? Hey, hows it going? Ownin the streets of NC? * More like tryna survive. Let's just say the city and I are even Sweet. What's that? What's up with me? Nice of you to ask. Hammerin out some sick tunes. Ok, more like trying to hammer out. Keep your fingers crossed * Hey hey, you could say that. Lotta stuffs been happenin - even without you! :O Yeah yeah, whatever! I'm stringin together some fresh tunes… OK, more like thinking about some fresh tunes. Keep your fingers crossed

Missed holocall! V! Whatever you're doing right now - drop it and come see me at the Marina. Pier four.

Scratch that! Spoke too soon Slight change of plans - waitin on an important delivery and the fuckin gonk's late. Be at the marina at 7pm!

Kova-chek this out :D Kovachek went ballistic when he found out the yacht went up in smoke! Even went back on those pills that turn him into you know, whatever the opposite of a cyberpsycho is. More goo than a man haha this is greaaaaat! * Ouch. Musta sunk a lotta eddies into that float! :P Speakin of dickheads tho - turns out he stashed a ton of drugs on board! Like, two yachts' worth. And we sent aaaall of that to the bottom of the sea :D Bay's full of fish high off their fins now! * Literally zero living organisms in that bay, Ker. Yeah duh they they took their happy fishy asses down to the spaceport and went to la la land. Anyway tellin ya whenever I'm down, I think about our seaventure and it's like insta good feels :* * Wow. What now? Feel like blowing more of his shit up. Think he's got a luxury crib somewhere in the Rockies… Something to think about… :P FUCK NO! I GOT IT! We make a Kovachek voodoo doll! Can't wait to stab that prick right in the dick :D * I really don't care about that dick, Kerry. Fine OK. As long as you care about MY dick, that is :P

Hey :* Heeey, how's it hanging? Everything all right? I'll just come right out and say it - I miss you. Just a little bit though ;) You coming by anytime soon? * Miss you too, if you can believe that. See? We're tuned to the same frequency. I'll try to swing by sometime. Preem. I'll be waiting! * Hey! Well well, look who's suddenly spilling their guts out :P Dunno when I can drop by though :/ Sad face :( But fine - I know the world doesn't revolve around me. It sucks, but that's the way it is. Take care! * Been thinking about you… Thinking about you too. You're like some chorus to this incredible song that's been stuck in my head lately. On loop :) * What's new? Still conquering the world with music? Planning to! :) don't really know if there's anything left to conquer though. You're already mine, right? (I know, I knooooow, it's cringe. But I couldn't hold myself back!) Latest song I wrote - read it and weep. Wrote it while thinking of you: "Where you whisper, open up your heart / Reveal the place where I once had a heart" Whaddaya think? * I like it. It's gentle, but still has a bite. And knowing you, probably has multiple meanings ;) Exactly! I knew you'd get it :*** * Hmm, you were thinking about me when you wrote that? Dunno if that's good or bad :< it's up to you - that's the whole point! :* * Got a bunch of things on my plate right now. Times are tough. Oh, OK, cool. Do what you gotta do. We'll talk later, no prob.

Serious business Check it out, V. Got this email from a lifelong fan. It's serious. Gotta write her back. Dear Mr. Eurodyne, the day we both have been waiting for is finally upon us! I got rid of my husband, my house and all the other remnants of my former life. Now, I'm truly ready to give you my heart and all my other organs, should you desire them. You are the Sun and I am the Moon - I live to bask in your radiant brilliance. I love you, Mr. Eurodyne, and eagerly anticipate the time we'll finally be together. We will meet soon - I'm sure you know exactly where." She also sent me a gift card to a junk shop in Providence, wherever the fuck that is. It's clear she's nuts, just not sure if it's the murder-suicide variety. She writes me same day every year, like clockwork. What if she dissolved her man in a vat of acid, burned down her house and now she's sharpening her sickle cuz I'm next!? What are we gonna do, V??? * You really worried about her? More importantly: Kerry Eurodyne actually reads fan mail? Adorable. Yeah, yeah, Kovachek usually deals with all that shit. Even signs photos and sends them to the fans. But the fucker always forwards stuff from this crazy broad. Gets his rocks off fuckin with my blood pressure. Anyway, thought you might get a kick out if it. Seriously though, I should probably do something. Don't want her to knock on my bedroom door a year from now. * What, your first psycho groupie? Unbelievable :D Don't worry about it. We'll deal with her. Fuckin preem. What should I do, V? Ideas?? * Call the Providence PD. Let them scare her off? Or better yet, put her in a straitjacket? Boooring! 'Sides, cops mean lawyers and I hate dealing with them even more than I hate Kovachek's guts. No worries, I'll think of something else.You're in charge here. * Why not have a bit of fun? Write her back, give her Kovachek's address and say you'll be waiting for her there exactly one year from now :P Hahahaha you beautiful fucking GENIUS! Think I'll do exactly that. He'll shit himself when he sees her! We'll set up a camera and film it, too. Can't wait!Not worth your time. * She probably thinks she's pregnant with Lizzy Wizzy's love child, too. Check if the store has a netpage, see if they ship to NC and get yourself something nice! Smart! I'll see if they have anything worth my while. Get myself a studded choker. Or one of them Russian stacky doll-in-a-doll-in-a-doll things. Thanks, V! Later

Truth or Dare! I'm boooooooored, V. Let's play Truth or Dare! :D * Really don't have time for this, Ker. Cmon, don't be like that. TRUTH or DARE??? * Fuck it. Dare. OK, here it goes. Hope I got your full attention! OKOK here's your dare: "Survive one year with a rockstar" :D * Cheeky ;) Guess I can give it a try ;) * Don't know if I have time for that, Kerry. * Truth! Got nothing to hide. Here it goes: "After a little good morning sex, what I really want is…" * Coffee and cigarettes. Glass of whiskey if I need a little hair of the dog…

* Scrambled eggs. Clearly.

Puzzle by yrs truly V! Made one of them picture riddles for you, V! Wanna see it? :D Fuck yeah you do! Heeeere goes! …69 <3 * Not right now, Kerry. Got some other things on my mind… No worries. Listen, we all have days like this. Thinking of you here with my little puzzle, hope that helps :* * Really, Ker? Doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure that one out. Yeah, yeah, just warming up! Okay, get ready for round two! |$| >< #o.O# ;( * Kerry slapped the shit out of Kovachek! * Rockstars are the best spankers! Sorry, all you get is a kiss :* * My man is shit at puzzles :* You got it, you shrewd beast :D Congrats! Your reward - a Kerry Eurodyne sextape! Now all that's left is to shoot it :P I'll send you something sweet <3

Personality test You're not gonna believe this, V. I took one of those personality tests and apparently, I'm a NARCISSIST! Can you believe that shit?? * You, a narcissist? That can't be right. I know, right? Good thing you're smart about these things. You're so sweet, babe :* * Might be some truth to it if I'm REAL honest :) You do… tend to be an arrogant snob. Not to mention your ego's the size of a small planet :* Haha took the test again and now it says I'm a sociopath! Told you it's all bullshit! Told you I'm not a narcissist! Honestly you should listen to me, I'm smarter than whatever "scientist" came up with this shit!

Ah V fuuuck worlds biggest hangover, shakes and willies. Need a kind soul to tell me I'll come out the other side OK :-/ my age be damned ;-| * Textin ya from Dtown, 'hood's the very embodiment of shakes and willies * Got a gig, mebbe not worlds biggest but mondo anyway. This is me needin assurance I'll come out the other end in 1 piece Ever in the thick of shit, eh? It's where your&Johnny's minds meet, both uber vibe on it. JS better be fuckin happy - is he? * Need better candy to pop at raves, physio venting helps, mutes nerves, you'll stride strong, won't bother us workin peeps! Srsly V - soundin like you need time off, ad hoc vacay. U know, throw the monkey off your back, dunno, air your skull sponge. * Could be, just not now Handlin ginormous gig in Dogtown. Elbow deep in it, serious as a heart attack. * That an invite….? ;> Dunno, maybe…? My door's wiiiiiiide open, always ;> * Got this biz I gotta tend to first, one way or another… Oh ok mystery man - you do you. gotta say, findin this diss kinda titillating. Is it the masochist in me? tension's… ooooh, got my mouth watering. * Right, I know. One of these days - surprise! You'll see, be at your front door. Only if I'm home, obvi. You're textin a raucous, go-get-'em busy man… * OOO-K. So get lost, find a release. * Hmm, you're temptin me to call. Will do, given time. Do do do, plz. I'll be waitin <3

OK then I'll play support - we're all gonna all right, better'n all right - golden Which is DEF NOT me now - after a fuckin weird-ass 48 hrs, and this is me talkin…! just straaange… like unbelievably so Ahem, got stories to tell, solid gold * well, yeah, might find it a lil hard to believe… welp, hope you're whole and fine and happy. If you are, suck it. Dissin somebody like this - not nova, choom, supra unpreem * OK spill So dig this - meet-up w the enemy, competing publishing bitchez. Top dogz, bubbly flowin, rails vanishing up noses - all in back of a stretch cuz they out to impress my ass with their asses. Kinda sad, really. Gotta give 'em an e for effort, tho - they say: choom, got a mountain o' eddies for ya. N I say, really - where from? N they say, our mountain's a volcano, it'll spew scratch like lava… Hm i say, how's that? N they say, Zetatech product placement - next tour, choom so I says let's go - Zetatech now! they practically jizz. Zetatech HQ I get out, drop my pants and moon eveybody lookin out the windows of the building while I give the bitchez in the limo the finger at the same time. N i called Delamain.\nDel and me, we rollin, talkin anti-iperialism - any sense in it given the state of the world? Know what? we actually come to a conclusion - that nuthin makes sense anymore. So we go on rollin, and go on talkin and drinnk myself into grief. 18 hours later Del dropped me by my crib. He wished me GOOD LUCK IN THIS WORLD. choom was deep depressed, so much so he gave me a discount * Could've happened to Kerry and Kerry alone, that Plain to see, admit it, I just might be the king of NC's nightlife * vive le roi! and may the consort bask in his light ;> xoxo * hm, yeah, no titles more important than that… BETTER FUCKIN BELIEVE IT. * Oooh could go for a convo about life's futility. But DT takes no prisoners forgives no mistakes - need to focus. salty! somebody's in a m0000d * well, just don't see your parties and hangovers as overly important to me just now, if ever * yeah, sorry, just this gig, shitstorm, tense, lots to handle OK I get it, all crystal. Need a lil cheerin up or just leave you the fuck alone? * may be better off just leavin me alone, I'll ping you later, OK? say no more, luv ya and dreamin daily about your sweet tush <3 Eurodyne out * cheerin up, plz :) OK catch: How ya get a bass player to have that gleam in his eye? Shine a flashlight in his ear. That help any? * yup, did wonders :D thx raise you on the holo later, 'kay? * hm, not great, but I won't hold it against you. cute of you to try ok, so here's somethin to keep you warm at night in the meantime, you sweet precious thing <3

You doing anything? Yo, why haven't you shot me a message or nothin? I'm sitting over here like a dumbass waitin for my phone to start buzzin… * Sorry, Ker! You know how it is, life and shit… I know I know, didn't mean to be a total prick * I was just about to text you! Uh huh… suuuure… * You coulda shot me one too, y'know :P The fuck do you think I'm doin right now?!? So listen, how busy are ya? Gotta admit, I'm gettin the itch real bad. Like, a good itch, to see you I mean. * Sounds great! My megabuilding pad maybe? A megabuilding, huh? I mean, sure, guess that'll work… * Then I'll be waitin for ya at my Northside apartment :) Preem. Then I'll get there when I get there. * Let's meet up in Japantown. Just a hop and a skip for you ;) Perfect! * Can you drive over to the Glen? Love to see you too <3 I can do whatever the fuck I want. * Whaddaya say to a little date downtown? My Corpo Plaza place? Ohhh baby, my ass is already out the door! * I'm free! Wanna swing by Dogtown? You outta your mind? No fucking way! Either we meet in NC proper or I ain't goin out. Don't forget to tidy up a bit, yeah? ;)

Goooood morning, Night City! And you, V! Listen, I'm bored outta my mind. Wanna be bored together at least? You asleep? :P Oh, what's that? You want me to come over? Sure! You're one hot piece of ass, you know that right? You were in my dream last night. A good one. Don't worry, I ain't mad at dream V or nothin - in fact I wanna meet up! I hit a creative block, need some inspiration. I need you. I'm coming over. * Sounds good :) Megabuilding apartment then. Hope you remember which one's mine! On my way! * Genius idea from a genius himself. I'll be waitin for ya in Northside <3 Guess this means I have to change outta my bathrobe. The sacrifices we make! * Japantown. Now. :P Preem! Callin a Delamain right now! * Missed you too. Come to the Glen :) * Sounds like it's time for a trip downtown. My Corpo Plaza pad to be exact * Swing by Dogtown, I'll show you my fixer-upper :P Over my cold, dead, bullet-riddled body! The fuck you even doing there?! Get back to civilization, V! * haha XD so, right now's not good, but don't worry - I'll be thinkin of ya ;) Oh so that's how you wanna play this… nah, just messin, V. wink, wink. I'll catch ya another time!

I like you, V. Thought I owed you a little reminder of that. And hey, not to impose or nothin, but if you wanna spend some more time together, don't be such a coward about it, y'know? Hit me up!! * I like you too, Kerry. I'll let ya know :) Ain't we an adorable fuckin pair of sweethearts! Ha! * No imposing. I'd love to see you again soon too ;) Careful with those boundaries now, V. Let em down too far and I might just move right in! * Course! Soon as I find some time, you'll be the first to know! You honor me, sir! Hang tough out there, V. And remember - don't do anything I wouldn't do!

Hey, Ker! Life's been feelin a lil empty without ya… wanna meet up? So, wanna see me again? Fuck yeah! Your place ok? Heeey! I do, I do! Just… can't right now. Schedule's crammed. But I'll be in touch real soon!

I fucking love surprises! Yo, V, this is a nice ride! Seems like whenever you're on my mind all I can think about is rides ;) * Yeah I know ;) * I love surprising you :) As crazy as my life is, without you it'd be boring as hell <3 Thanks for the flowers! Thank christ they're artificial cuz I'm allergic to pollen. Sneezing, goopy eyes, the whole fuckin thing. Also… "Feedback"? What? Did we hook up at one of my concerts? Honestly I can't remember. * Totally. Speaker feedback fused our audio systems somehow. Made the sex interesting at least. Whaaa, well whatever, I don't need the whole sciency mumbo jumbo :D * You kiddin? How could you forget! Man, what the fuck was I on that night…

Won't see me for a while Gonna need to vanish for a while maybe a month or so. Hope you didn't have any romantic escapades planned and all set up :P Nooo :( Who'm I gonna take to the N54 rave then? :((( * Shiiiit mean to say I'm gonna miss an N54 party? Wanted to surprise you… Real fucking shame :/ I know ;( We'll crash multiple raves when I'm back in town tho :) Promise! * Take someone else feel free but just this once. Long as you promise - no hand holdin' no indecent stuff no INTIMACY mental neither :P Oh please faithful's my middle name :* Fuck really wish you could make it Make it up to you 100%

Long time no see :] There's this merc I know and haven't seen for a while… oh yeah it's you! :D C'mon pick up gotta tell you how wasted me and Slavoy McAllister got at this N54 rave xD Think we might've burnt down half the studio… by accident ofc XDD Hey, V? Pick up, choom Still can't top you 'n' me as a wrecking crew ;) Fuck, you ok? Pick up dammit not funny V 13 missed calls from: Kerry Eurodyne

You ghosting me? Fuck, pick up! Really?! Can't even bother to send ONE word?! Just gonna pretend like nothin happened, huh? COWARD

#cyberpunk 2077 #kerry eurodyne

85 notes · View notes

fluentmoviequoter · 9 months ago

Text

Best (Fake) Boyfriend

Requested Here!

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x fem!reader

Summary: When you receive unwanted attention at a fancy restaurant, a handsome SWAT sergeant pretends to be your boyfriend to help you.

Warnings: pushy man is pushy and mean. Deacon is perfect and pretty. reader isn't rich (not necessarily poor, just usually unable to afford the vacation she's on). lots of fluff!! there's also a Psych reference and if you find it, we should be friends

Word Count: 2.0k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist Directory | Deacon Kay Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“It’ll be fun!” your best friend insists.

“I don’t know,” you reply.

“It’s just a weekend. This is the hottest resort in LA and we’re never going to be able to afford it again. Besides, it’s an Uber ride away, if you hate it after the first night, just go home. We wouldn’t hold that against you, swear.”

Closing your eyes, you nod. The small group of friends surrounding you cheers. After they force you to pack a bag, you find yourself in the back of an Uber driving through Beverly Hills.

“How did you get a room here again?” you ask.

“I got an insane discount voucher when I went to the grand opening of that new organic restaurant in Santa Monica!”

“And we’re just spending a weekend in the resort? Swimming, relaxing,” you trail off, unsure if you believe the lack of ulterior motives.

“Yeah,” your best friend answers, “plus rich men from the Hills.”

The Uber driver rolls his eyes, and you can’t blame him... not at all.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Save a whole school full of evacuees and you get a dinner reservation at a Beverly Hills resort,” Street muses. “I knew there was a reason I liked this gig.”

“You do know that place will be crawling with rich, single women,” Hicks begins.

“Yeah, we do,” Tan and Street cheer together.

“And badge bunnies,” Hicks finishes.

Street shrugs, and Deacon and Hondo shake their heads.

“Do we have to attend?” Deacon asks.

“Why? Got better plans?” Street asks.

“A night in the hills isn’t everyone’s idea of a fun time, playboy,” Hondo answers. Deacon nods his agreement.

“Yes, you have to go. Mayor’s going to be there tonight, too. Every week like clockwork,” Hicks answers.

“Hey, Deac,” Street calls as they walk out. “What’s the real problem?”

“Just seems like a materialistic, money-based approximation of the worth of the lives we saved,” Deacon answers. “The mayor’s office just implied all those lives are worth approximately $650.”

“Those meals are over $125 each?” Luca gapes. “Sorry, I know that’s not the point.”

“It’s not the first or last time we’ll receive a monetary thank you, but at some point it becomes more about the reward after the job than the job itself,” Deacon adds.

“Maybe we’ll be there for a reason,” Luca offers. “But I get what you’re saying. We are focused on the job, and that’s all we can control.”

“Then I guess we should clean up. Places like that frown upon dirt covered tactical uniforms."

"Their loss; this is my best look,” Street jokes.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Um, I can’t afford to look at this menu,” you say, pushing it back onto the table. “Maybe I should go find a diner or something.”

“It’s included,” your best friend whispers. “But we’re trying to play the part, so sit up and feel as good as you look in that outfit.”

Sighing, you straighten your shoulders, picking up the outrageously priced menu again and trying not to let your shock show. Indeed, you’ll never live like this again, but you’re not sure you’d want to even if you could.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Would it be wrong for me to say there’s one for each of us?” Street asks, glancing over his menu.

“Yes,” Deacon, Hondo, and Luca reply in unison.

“They’re women, not suits, Street,” Deacon adds.

“Think I could land one?” Street asks.

“Playboy,” Hondo sighs. “You don’t have enough game for half of one of those women, kid.”

“Really? ‘Cause the one in the blue’s lookin’ over here.”

“Probably at Deacon,” Luca says, keeping his eyes on the menu.

“Right,” Deacon agrees sarcastically. “I- honestly, I don't know what's in most of these foods, so one of you order for me.”

He sets his menu down, his gaze wandering to the table of women Street was talking about. One of them catches his attention, and when the four other women get up, giggling as they walk toward the bathroom, he decides he’s looking at a kindred soul.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Mind if I sit here for just a moment? My friends are running late, and the reservation is under another name,” a man explains, smiling as he looks at you.

“Uh, I don’t think-“

“Thanks,” he says, cutting you off as he sits beside you.

“My friends are coming right back,” you state. “So, you should find somewhere else to wait.”

“Sounds like you have time to kill, and I do, too. What’s your name?”

You don’t answer, fiddling with the bottom of the tablecloth as you watch the doorway for your friends to return.

“I can’t imagine someone ditching you.”

The man leans into your peripheral vision, and you turn your head away. When his hand brushes against your covered hip, you stand quickly.

“I told you that I didn’t want to talk, so you should find your way to your own table before I come back,” you say lowly before walking to the balcony entrance.

✯✯✯✯✯

Deacon tunes out his teammates as he watches a man sit beside you. Your obvious discomfort makes him eager to help. He stops at the thought that one uninvited man in your personal space is likely more than enough.

“Deac?” Hondo asks. “Oh,” he adds when he looks at what is so worthy of Deacon’s attention.

“Didn’t think he still had it in him,” Luca whispers to Hondo.

Deacon stands suddenly, his attention on your back as you walk onto the balcony. Hondo notices that the man beside you looks angry, and when he jostles the table in his haste to follow you, he knows why Deacon is so invested.

“Go help her out, Deac, we got your back,” Hondo says.

Deacon nods wordlessly, buttoning his blazer as he follows in your footsteps. His team looks on, sure that Deacon has control of the situation but is prepared to jump in if the situation calls for it.

“Deacon comes back with her glued to his side or that starry far-away look in his eye,” Luca announces. “Trust me.”

“My money’s on the first one. You see how she relaxed the moment her friends left? She’s just like him,” Tan points out.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Looks like you found your way to my table, too,” the man says behind you.

When you turn to face him, you step back. His jaw is tight, and his eyes look darker than they did inside.

“Change your mind about spending time with me, girlie?”

With your side to the door, you notice someone walk out, but don’t expect an arm to circle your waist a moment later.

“Hey, babe,” the man says. “What’s going on? Came back to the table and you were gone.”

Looking up at him, you sigh at the sight of his large, kind eyes. Trusting him, you relax against his side, raising a hand to press against his sternum.

“Sorry, handsome. This guy was waiting for his friends,” you explain.

“You need help finding your table or somethin’? This is a nice place, I’m sure they can help with that.”

The man clenches his fists at his side, looking between you and the man holding you to his side.

“Or do you need a different kind of help?”

The hand on your hip tightens, his touch still gentle as his voice drops. He’s defending you, angry for you, and though you don’t know why, you’re grateful.

“No, I’m good. Your ‘babe’ here might want to learn some manners, though.”

You press your hand against your guy’s chest when he tries to follow the man inside. Whispering your name to distract him, you sigh when his attention returns to you.

“I’m Deacon,” he replies. “Sorry for grabbing you.”

“Don’t apologize. Thank you. I don’t know what I was thinking walking out here alone.”

Your hand is still spread over his chest, his arm around your waist, and his hand rubbing soft circles on your hip. You know the moment has to end, but your desperation to draw it out outweighs your logic.

“Well, thank you, Deacon. You’re a great boyfriend; I’m sure there’s a very happy woman somewhere.”

Deacon’s hand moves to your waist as you move back, and he quickly raises the other to stop you.

“There is no happy woman,” he responds. “I just- how often do you have to deal with stuff like that?”

“Not very often. Most guys get the idea, even if it takes a few tries. Never had to be saved like this before.”

Deacon sighs, disappointed either in you or the situation. You hope it’s the situation, and Deacon can practically read your mind.

“I’m a SWAT sergeant, and we have to watch for crossfire,” he begins.

You nod with furrowed brows, confused as to where this is going.

“I just will never understand how some men are so okay with not caring how many women they hurt in pursuing their own… whatever it is they’re looking for.”

“How? How is there no lucky woman?” you ask softly. “Between the kindness and the poetic speeches, you’re just begging to get snatched up.”

Deacon drops his chin, shaking his head as he smiles.

“Why’d you follow me?” you ask.

“You were uncomfortable. I noticed you before he sat down, and then when you stood up so fast I couldn’t just sit there. Especially when he followed you.”

“Then you can tell I don’t fit in here.”

“I can,” Deacon agrees before whispering, “because I don’t either.”

“Could you maybe ditch your friends?” you ask. “Let me call you handsome for a while longer?”

“You seem a bit too pleased to have a fake boyfriend who only came out here to scare somebody off.”

“Because my fake boyfriend is better than any real one I’ve ever had.”

Deacon smiles, pulling you against him. “I have to stay for dinner, it’s a work thing. But if you’re still up for pet names later, and tomorrow, and for a good, long while, I think we can work something out.”

“I will be.”

“Have your phone?”

You pull your phone from your pocket, unlock it, and hand it to him. He keeps one hand on your side as he adds his contact, sending himself a text with your name. After he returns your phone, he sighs.

“The moment’s over?” you ask.

“The moment is on hold,” Deacon corrects.

“Enjoy your work dinner. I’m going to go have a free dinner and listen to my friends pretend they belong here.”

“Feel free to sit at my table if you need a break. I’m sure they’re talking about you already. Trying to decide if I’ll actually act on my feelings or just come back in alone and puppy-like.”

You smile, slowly separating yourself from Deacon. Walking in first, he holds the door for you, and you brush your knuckles against his hand before returning to your table. As you sit, your eyes stray to Deacon and never leave.

✯✯✯✯✯

“That little hand thing counts, right?” Tan asks.

“Counts for what?” Deacon inquires as he sits.

“I thought you’d come back with your arm around her.”

“We’re, uh, we’re gonna keep talking later.”

“Atta boy, Deac!” Luca cheers.

“Why didn’t you invite her over?” Hondo asks. “This may be a work thing, but that doesn’t mean it has to be boring.”

“I did. If she gets tired of her friends, she’ll be over.”

“Yeah,” you interject, pausing at the corner of their table. “I’m tired of my friends and your table seems like a better fit.”

Street, Luca, and Tan rush to pull a chair over for you, arguing over who gets the credit. You laugh at their antics as Deacon tells you everyone’s names.

“Nice to meet you. And thanks for letting me crash your dinner,” you say.

“So, what do you think of our Deacon here?” Luca asks, smiling kindly.

“I think he’s great,” you answer honestly. Turning toward him, you whisper, “And handsome.”

“Are pet names our thing now?” he asks.

“Hey, you started it, babe.”

Deacon dips his chin before his eyes rise to yours, and you think ‘beautiful’ might be a better fit for him. Luckily, he promised plenty of time to try all the pet names you can think of.

#david deacon kay x reader #david kay x reader #deacon kay x reader #david deacon kay #deacon kay #requests #fem!reader #swat cbs

220 notes · View notes

in-class-daydreams · 1 year ago

Text

Oh Yeah, Baby! (Sebastian Sallow x Reader)

Pairing: Auror!Sebastian Sallow x Pregnant!Fem!Reader Synopsis: You visit your husband at work, where you meet some of the new junior Aurors he's helping train. You're beyond pregnant by now, but some things never change. Alternatively: Just Because You’re Pregnant Doesn't Mean You Can't Throw Hands TW: On the spice scale, mayonnaise with a dash of paprika.

Hogwarts would always be the most beautiful piece of architecture you’ve ever witnessed, considering the hidden rooms you’ve become privy to and how the school brought you and your beloved husband together. That said, the Ministry of Magic was a close second with its tall, domelike structure with talented witches and wizards scurrying about making sure wizard society was on the up and up.

You tug at the waistband of your skirt. The bulk of your belly is at an angle where your skirt always rides up to accommodate and you are tired of it. You're due to pop any day now and no matter what anyone says, pregnancy is not a wonderland and you want this baby out now. You put a lot of thought into your coordinated work outfits with Sebastian, and Baby Sallow makes it impossible for you to wear half of them. Sure, you didn’t have to wear that particular skirt, but it’s easy to hitch up, and no matter what Sebastian says, it can’t hurt to be prepared.

On your way through the gates, you hear a voice call out to you. You turn to find a familiar face bouncing up to you. Venusia Crickerly is a tall, lithe woman with dark brown hair and a smattering of freckles across her nose. She has a thick Irish accent and is both a talented Auror and your husband’s boss, your own job making it easy for you and her to become fast friends. Though, you think, Venusia was the type of person who could make a friend out of a boggart, if she were so inclined.

“Look at you, you’re positively glowing!” she exclaims, pulling you into a big hug, conscious of your protruding stomach. “How are you?”

“I feel like a whale, but otherwise I’m quite well.”

She laughs. “Understood.”

The two of you proceed through the gate, chatting about work and the baby and Ve nusia’s new giant plant, Smashley.

“So, you’re bringing your doting husband lunch?” She points at the cloth wrapped parcel in your hands.

“Yes, but,” you wave your hand and a glass bottle of peach juice appears and floats over to her. “I had a feeling I’d see you today.”

Venusia squeals with delight and snatches the bottle out of the air to down half of it in one gulp. Peach juice was a bit hard to track down these days, but you’ve always been good at finding things, and your friend’s enthusiasm made it worth it.

“You’re a gem! I don’t know what Sallow did to make you fall for him, but it must’ve been magnificent!” she says.

Both of you flash your badges at the security checkpoint. The guard glances at them and lets you pass through the glamour-deactivating mist, which clears you without a hitch.

You smile at the memory. “The short of it is, we were at Hogwarts and I needed to get into the Restricted Section of the library. Sebastian helped me because he tended to do that kind of thing often.”

“Sounds like him.”

“Sebastian got caught first and instead of giving me up to secure himself a lesser punishment, he took the fall for me.” Even after all this time, you still feel giddy and shy thinking about it. How it felt to be protected by someone for a change. “Then all of a sudden I was head over heels.”

Venusia claps a hand over her heart. “How sweet! He’s been all in on you since the beginning, hasn’t he?”

You rest a hand on your bump. “He really has.”

Upon entry to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, you don’t see your husband anywhere in the bullpen. Venusia gestures for you to follow her down the leftmost hallway, which you remember from a tour with Sebastian leading towards the training arena.

As you pass the individual rooms with enchanted glass, you see various witches and wizards practicing spells on dummies or dueling with each other.

“State-of-the-art facilities, are they not?” Venusia says with pride.

“They really are,” you reply.

“You could have access to them, too, if you came to work for me.” She’s only half-teasing.

Admittedly, the thought had crossed your mind more than once. The Department of Mysteries gave you a substantial maternity leave considering your line of work was already hard on your own body. Exposing your unborn child to it could prove detrimental. That said, when you originally applied for the job, you were still the ‘live fast, die young’ type. You fought Ranrok and Victor Rookwood for three reasons: for Fig’s sake, for the greater good, and because you couldn’t just let them kill you because it’s the principle of the thing. If you were to fall, you’d want to fall in battle, but not to either of those two, because they were disgusting little mole men that needed to be put down. Suffice to say, starting a family didn’t really cross your mind.

Now, though, perhaps it was time to find an easier line of work so you could, you know, actually get to raise your child. The concept of Sebastian being a househusband was more than tempting. You’d come home from a long day, covered in soot and blood. Your husband would be home making dinner, a babe on his hip while a toddler clung to his legs.

Yes, the prodigal Auror, son of two professors, Master of the Dark Arts, doing housework for his beloved wife. You bite your lip at the delicious thought.

“-ello? Anyone home!” Venusia’s voice snaps you out of your daydream. When you come to, she’s eyeing you warily. “What’s gotten into you? Is it the babe?”

You shake your head. “It’s alright, I’m fine.”

She doesn’t seem to believe you, but doesn’t pry. There’s not much time, anyhow, since you come upon a larger gym where you know Sebastian and the other Aurors that go out in the field more often tend to train.

Venusia says her goodbyes and drops you off at the door. Your timing is impeccable, and you just manage to catch the unmistakable figure of your husband launching his opponent clear across the padded floor. You smile to yourself, thinking that if you weren’t viciously pregnant, you’d challenge Sebastian right now and thrash him soundly in front of his coworkers. One would think that would be a bit embarrassing as a husband, but the ever-surprising Sebastian quite enjoys getting schooled by you. After all, he originally fell for you while on his ass in Hecat’s classroom, your wand still hot and glowing.

Sebastian helps his coworker, whom you recognize, to his feet, another one sitting on the bench catches his attention and nods their head towards you. Your husband’s head snaps around like an owl and the goofiest grin spreads across his face. He drops his coworker on his ass and bounds up to you.

As he wraps you in a gentle hug, he doesn’t even bother to wipe the sweat off his brow and his forearms are glistening and peeking out of his rolled up sleeves. You inhale deeply, basking in your husband’s scent and thinking about how you’d love to make him sweat in a different capacity.

Sebastian pulls back. “Brought me lunch, did you? Can’t seem to keep away from me, can you?”

You hum contentedly and rest your hands on your baby bump (definitely more than a bump).

“If I could keep away from you, Sallow, I wouldn’t be here growing your child,” you reply.

Your husband smiles boyishly at you, his hands on your hips.

“Best learn to call me by my name. There’s about to be three of us living under one roof soon enough,” he counters.

From across the room, his sparring partner calls out to him. You recognize most of the group from a number of work functions you’ve accompanied Sebastian to, but not him.

“Oi, Bastian!” called his coworker with a thick Scottish accent. He and a few of the others - the ones you don’t recognize - jog over. “This your wife?”

“My favorite one, anyway,” Sebastian says and grins cheekily. You swat him in the shoulder. “Love, these are some of the rookies. They’re getting some hands-on learning from us today.”

You greet Sebastian’s juniors and shake all of their hands. Part of you feels old now that you’ve met new Aurors when yours and Sebastian’s N.E.W.T.s feel like yesterday, but you ignore it and decide to feel old once your child goes off to Hogwarts.

“You’re the Unspeakable, then?” A young woman in the back asks. She looks like she should still be in secondary school, but you have been noticing that the young people have begun to look younger.

“The one with Ancient Magic?” someone gasps in awe.

“Ancient Magic! I heard she can damn well chuck lightning at someone!” exclaims another.

You laugh and shake your head. “Something like that.”

“You should spar with Reilly!”

“Yeah!”

The junior Aurors clamor, eager to see your skills in action. You open your mouth to gently decline, but are interrupted by the entrance of the one junior who didn’t come running up to you.

The young man is tall, about Sebastian’s height with dark blond hair and blue eyes. He has a smattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks. In fact, something about him reminds you of your husband when you first met him.

Oh. Now you remembered. Your husband had mentioned him more than a few times in passing. He stated that the boy was ‘quite good for a cheeky bastard,’ which meant that you were right on the money and the lad reminds Sebastian of himself.

“You called for me?” Reilly asks, hand in his pockets.

His peers clamor and urge him to spar with you. How it’s a great opportunity and not every new Auror gets to practice with an Unspeakable, much less one of your caliber.

“Now, really, I can’t,” Reilly insists. “Not against a witch with a record such as hers.”

Flatterer.

Reilly places his hands behind his back. “Not pregnant, anyway. I’ll wait to earn my victory fair and square when she’s at full power.”

Never fucking mind.

Sebastian lets out a tired sigh and rests a hand on your arm. “My love, you don’t have to–”

“Here are the terms, then, boy,” you say, smiling, hands clasped in front of you. “Obviously, you can’t attack me, but if you can evade me for thirty seconds, you win. Actually, that’s unreasonable. I’ll say twenty.”

Reilly scowls. “Thirty.”

You shrug and gesture for him to lead the way.

“Please don’t injure him too badly,” Sebastian implores you. “This could be a learning experience for him, but not if you slam him into the ground.”

You wave him off. “Experience is the best teacher!” you insist.

“Experiencing broken ribs and a shattered ego is not,” Sebastian sighs, but pulls out his watch to time you. "Remember what the doctor said!"

"That I'd be just fine performing magic?" you say dryly.

"That your powers make your body unpredictable. Just be careful." Sebastian goes to take his place.

You and Reilly draw your wands and stand on opposite sides of the padded floor. His peers watch eagerly from the sidelines and you even see some money change hands between them.

“Ready?” Sebastian asks from a platform overlooking the arena.

You remind yourself to honor Sebastian's wishes and not overdo it. The doctor said you were free to perform magic and the baby would be just fine, but you ought to keep in moderation.

You and Reilly nod and Sebastian starts the duel.

Feeling generous, you cast a few basic spells at the young Auror to test him out. He deflects them easily. A few times, he simply dodges instead of casting protego. When he dodges one of your other attacks, he takes a moment to wink at the group of his peers.

Just like Sebastian indeed. Extraordinarily gifted and all too aware of it. Your guess is that, like Sebastian, he learns best when he faces someone far better than himself.

You feel the familiar crackling of electricity coursing through your veins. You feint and telegraph the movement to ensure your opponent puts up a defensive shield. Thunder roars and you bring down a particularly gentle beam of lightning crashing into his shield, which holds, but the force of impact sends him slamming into the floor, where he lays winded.

Above you, Sebastian calls the match, then gazes down at you fondly. He bites his lip and you just know his heart is racing from your display of power. It never fails. You feel warmth pool between your legs.

Reilly has struggled to his feet and declined his peers’ attempts to help him walk. You frown at the slight bruise forming on his cheek but he gives you a weak smile. He holds his hand out for you to shake, which you do. Then you frown at the growing wet feeling between your legs. You’d only ever felt that way about your husband.

As the wetness grows, you look down and see the front of your skirt is wet and it’s seeping into your socks and shoes. Then it clicks. Who knew all it took was a bit of lightning?

“Ah. The baby’s coming,” you say.

Reilly looks horrified. "What? Are you sure?" he shouts.

You nod. "Quite sure. Seb!" You call up to your husband. "We need to go to the hospital!"

Sebastian quickly makes his way to you. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

"Oh, no." You wave a hand. "The baby's coming, so we should head over before I get more fluids on the floor."

Sebastian pales. "The baby's coming??! Lead with that next time!"

You wrinkle your nose. "Next time? I'm not sure if I'm letting you do this to me again, this was not a fun experience."

"Just--!" Sebastian groans in frustration. "Let's go!" Sebastian ushers you to the nearest exit before you can say another word.

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy imagines #sebastian x mc #sebastian sallow x reader

413 notes · View notes