#but like - she's the only one of these i would say i feel comfortable (ish) writing

[aparticularbandit]

I very rarely have characters where I see them and go that's ME, but there have been a handful over the years.

By which I mean four. There have been four (that I can remember).

Homura Akemi (Puella Magi Madoka Magica)

Syndrome (The Incredibles)

Amy Elliot Dunne (Gone Girl)

Jay Gatsby (The Great Gatsby - specifically the Leo version)

Two of these have passed peer review unprompted! And if asked, Homura (who is one of the two) is the one I'd say is the most me.

...not sure if I'd count Rebellion Story, but given what she knew/did not know, her actions make complete sense. Homura did nothing wrong.

[simpingforheros]

Jason’s Wife?!

Pairing: Jason Todd X Female! Reader

Summary: Meet Mrs. Todd?! Jason got eloped and he doesn’t intend on sharing his blushing bride just yet.

Warnings: SMUT, Fluff, Established Relationship, Eloping, Jason being an ass to his family (for good reason), Jason calling Reader Ma (can’t remember who wrote about that, please tag them because I love this headcanon), P in V, unprotected sex (don’t advertise for the unsafe sex, put some breading on yalls chicken before dumping it in oil) , Oral (m receiving), Body Worship, Phone/Facetime during the deed, Exhibition Kink, Mating Press, Slight Breeding Kink, Degradation, Praise, crying kink??,TOXIC-ish And POSSESSIVE! Jason Todd is back, Traumatizing Dick again.

Author’s Note: Thank you guys so much for the praise I got on my last Jason Todd Fanfic! I didn’t know you guys would like my first smut that much so I made a part 2. Enjoy your next fix you horny bastards (jk I love you guys )

AN: This is Part 2 to Jason’s Girl??, so go read that for some context. Also a quick shout out to the mutual who started my spiraling decent into his madness, @jjenthusee , who was the main inspiration because of their amazing artwork! Also I’m sorry this was late and I don’t update as often, I’m in my second semester in a health major and I’m stumped man. I’ll update when I can I promise.

A/N: Part 3>>> Jason Broke What??

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Jason Todd is a lot of things. He’s known for bad things and good things. It depends on who you ask.

A menace, a murderer, a zombie, an asshole, etc.

A son, a brother, a hero….

But there’s two things everyone can agree on.

1). He’s a good boyfriend.

For the last 6 months since Jason finally revealed his secret girlfriend of two years, the Bat Family learned just how much of a better person Jason was when (Y/N) was around.

His voice was softer and kinder to others. His temperament was more patient and his fists stayed loose. Her presence acting like a balm to sooth his soul as soon as he feels her comforting hand on his skin.

There were obvious moments of trouble, such as little squabbles or one gets snappy at the other, but normally they sort it out. Even if Bruce and the rest of the family didn’t know her for long, they knew that she had the backbone to handle Jason and give him what he needed without babying him.

Jason even shows his love for her in goofy ways, such as wearing matching shirts or color coordinated outfits. The two are now known for their Friday date nights and lazy Saturdays where they don’t wanna be disturbed. Their late night rides or their silent evenings where either a book or controller is in hand.

Red Hood is known for lingering around certain streets where she would be at when she had to work late, and he always had a bottle of water or granola bar he ‘mysteriously appeared’ out of thin air.

Jason was known for being proud of building the healthiest relationship he’s ever had with someone who didn’t fall in love with him because he was Bruce Wayne’s son, or Batman’s protege. She fell in love with Jason Peter Todd and all he was.

Which leads to the one thing that the family also knew him for.

2) Jason Todd would not tell anyone when he dropped down on one knee and asked (Y/N) to be his wife.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The proposal was a spontaneous to say the least.

Their usual Saturday routine of laying on the couch, too exhausted from the week to move. Jason laid on the opposite side as his beloved, her feet dangling off to the side of his hips as his own rested behind her shoulders. They both had a book in as they enjoyed their silence. The only noise coming from the soft patter of Frank coming over to lay on his adopted father.

The tabby cat that Jason claimed to not like despite the male cat clinging to him like glue. The cat jumped onto his stomach with a deep groan emitting from him. A soft giggle filled the room as she sets her book down and pulls the feline to her.

“I still don’t understand why my cat likes you more than me.” She comments as she strokes the tabby’s fur.

Jason scoffs as he carefully rolls off the couch and onto his feet. “Probably to spite me.”

He heads to the kitchen to grab them a drink as he hears one comment that seemed to change everything in one second.

“What’s gonna happen when we have a kid? Would you think they would prefer you over me or would we have another Frank?…”

The question was a hypothetical one, a normal one couples would ask just to make sound in the air. Jason would have probably answered light heartedly with a kiss or a smart ass comment to make her laugh, but it felt different. He felt different.

There wasn’t a ‘if’ in the question like it would or wouldn’t happen, but a definite of ‘when’ it would happen. Jason knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Hell, he managed to not fuck up a relationship he kept hidden for 2 years. He knew he wanted to marry her the moment he decided to open up and let her into his life by moving her in and introducing her to his family.

So, even if it was on an impulse, Jason returns back into the living room and as he placed their drinks on the coffee table as he kneels on the floor beside the couch. (Y/N) sits up as she smiles at him, unaware of the decision he made.

“Penny for your thoughts, Todd?” She asked playfully as she offers him an imaginary penny in between her pinched fingers.

Jason smiles as he takes her out stretched hand before kissing the back of it.

“Marry me.”

The seriousness in his eyes made her playful attitude dissolve to disbelief.

“What?…”

“I wanna marry you, (Y/N)…You are the everything I could ever want and don’t deserve. But I can’t imagine building a life like the one we have with anyone else. You are one of the few lights this dark world has and I wanna love and protect you for the rest of our lives.” Jason explains as he nervously massages her hand as his eyes shined with deep love and affection. “Even if I don’t have a ring yet and we are in our pajamas, will you accept me and let me become yours forever?”

Tears streamed down her face as she nods frantically. Her arms quickly wrapping around Jason’s neck and pulling him into a kiss.

Jason melts into her and begins to move to be on top of her on the couch until a sharp hiss makes him stop.

“Quiet, Frank…” Jason grumbles at the cat.

“Daddy is trying get some sugar from Mama~”

+++++++++++++++++

A week later, Alfred appeared extra peppy for the day. His duties were quickly done before the family was awake and his fidgeting gotten everyone concerned. Alfred was the normally level-headed gentle hand of the house, so seeing him so giddy made everyone nervous.

It wasn’t until he surprisingly left in one of his better suits and a gift bag that the rest of the Wayne Family just decided that he may be going to an event or some kind.

“Where do you think he’s going?” Tim asks his younger brother from behind a book.

Damian shrugs as he says, “How should I know?”

The answer wouldn’t come until later that evening. Alfred came back with both the brightest smile and red swollen eyes. In his hands were a single pale pink rose and a camera as he scurries to the study.

Tim, Dick, and Damian, who were scattered around the living room, followed out of curiosity. What’s gotten Alfred this way? An old flame? The thought of Alfred getting down and dirty made the boys shudder before they continue to the study and ultimately down to the Batcave.

“Yo, Alfred.” Dick calls out as he exits the elevator.

Alfred stood by the large chair over looking the Batcomputer as Bruce’s hulking form peaked over the leather. The clicking of the mouse playing in the background as Alfred turns his head to address Dick.

“Yes, Master Richard?” He says. In his hand was the camera with cables connecting it to the computer.

“Where have you been? You kinda left in a hurry…”

Tim jumps in as he says, “I mean, we aren’t trying to be rude, but you did seem kinda jumpy this morning.”

Damian’s words cut through the other two like ice as his eyes look at the monitor.

“Did Todd and his woman get married?”

Dick and Tim look back at Damian before their shocked expressions look up to the monitor. Their eyes widen in disbelief at the image before them.

Standing in a suit was a an absolutely beeming smile was Jason Todd with his hands interlocked with (Y/N), who was wearing a white dress. The dress didn’t look like the traditional floor length gown. Instead it was a backless chic dress with a bow on the back. Her hair was down and decorated with pearl ornaments as a matching ribbon choker was around her neck with a single aged pearl on it.

In their interlocked finders, a familiar set of rings shined . Martha Wayne’s sparkling diamond engagement ring and her wedding band was on (Y/N)’s finger as a matching wedding band was on Jason’s finger.

The surroundings didn’t look like a typical wedding venue with flowers and ribbons with a crowd of people. It was a courthouse, Gotham City Courthouse. On (Y/N)’s side stood Alfred holding a pale pink bouquet that was most likely the bride’s. What surprised them the most was a smiling Bruce on Jason’s side, a look of pride on his face that he rarely shown.

The boys break out of their shell as Dick complains.

“This can’t be real… Jason and (Y/N) got married without telling any of us….AND YOU LET JASON HAVE MARTHA’S RING!!” Dick snaps as his irritation grew. “You said I was gonna have it.”

Bruce sighs as he says, “I said that before you cheated on both of your girlfriends with each other.”

Alfred chuckles as he says, “And Master Jason specifically stated that he only wanted me and Master Bruce there.”

Tim frowns as he asks, “Why weren’t we invited?”

Alfred gives the boy a sympathetic look before reciting, “Miss (Y/N) and Jason only wanted a small ceremony and off what he said, ‘Damian makes (Y/N) uncomfortable when he calls her Jason’s woman and a distraction. Dick is plain out not invited because of reasons he knows why. And Tim can’t keep his mouth shut to save his life, so he’s not invited.’”

Damian tsks as he says, “I wouldn’t have wanted to go anyways.”

Dick was flustered as the images of the incident Alfred was referring to. He still can’t get her moans out of his head…

Tim pouts and says, “I’m gonna remember this…But why was Bruce invited then?”

Bruce responds with a smirk , “Because I was asked to give away the bride.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

As soon as the newly weds returned their apartment, the lust sprinkled down like hale. Her well manicured hair was now messy as his hands held her head. His mouth devouring her moans as her own lips kept up with his pace.

Her fingers desperately removing his tie as the shrilling ring of Jason’s cell phone fills the air. He ignores it in favor of trailing tongue against his bride’s as she slings off the tie.

“Gonna answer that?” She mumbles as his mouth begins to trail down her jawline. Jason doesn’t answer as his hands scoop up under her thighs to pick her up. Her giggles were music in his ears as he says,

“It’s probably just Tim or Dick. Probably bitching about the wedding…”

Jason carries his wife through the threshold of their apartment hallway as his lips remained on hers. Their vows sealed in teeth and tongues as he expertly guided them into the bedroom.

His phone finally stopped ringing as he places her on the bed. Hands groping and pulling off of clothing as he unwraps her down to her underwear and stockings. His mouth hot against her breast as she pushes his now unbuttoned shirt down his shoulders.

His other hand dipping into her underwear as he flicks her erected nipples like a guitar. Her sweet music filling the room as he’s met with a creamy cunt under her white thong.

“Fuccck, ma..” He moans against her breast. Jason pulls away with a devilish smirk as he runs his finger over her sopping folds, carefully avoiding her hole and clit. “I can’t tell what I like more…your pretty tits or your sloppy cunt…”

(Y/N) feels the wave of shameful arousal fill her stomach as she whines out, “Stop teasing me, baby. It’s our wedding day and you’re acting like a jackass…”

Her body jolts as he pinches her clit. Her hips jerking as she moans at the sensation. Jason had a look of faux sympathy before mumbling against the valley of her breasts.

“Oh, you’re right…” His voice barely audible to her as he begins to rub heart shaped patterns on her clit, making sure to dip down to her gasping pussy as he dips down. “I’m not acting like a good husband, ain’t I? Let me make it up to you, Mrs. Todd.”

His lips attached to her unabused nipple before his middle finger finally dips into her pulsing hole. His groan accentuated by the scraping of his teeth against her sensitive flesh. The feeling of her cunt sucking his one finger in making him light headed as her moans ringed out.

“Jason…stop teasing me…I want you…” She begs as her hips try to meet the thrust of his finger. He growls at her bossiness before yanking his finger out of her pulling her panties down her thighs.

Her eyes glared at him for the loss of stimulation before he quickly pops her pussy lightly. The wet slap of skin making her cringe in embarrassment before Jason begins to leave a trail of open kisses and bites down her body. Making sure to pay special attention to the matching tattoo on her hip before he mumbles to her with a lazy smile.

“Your wish is my command.”

Before he could dig into his meal, the shrill ring of his phone invades the space. He yanks his phone out of his pocket and looks at the screen before declining the call. He tosses the phone onto the bed as he glares at the offending device.

“Stupid Dick..” He groans before a soft hand on his face draws him back to her. Her gentle touch bringing peace to his mind as she pulls him up to press a soft peck to his lips.

His mind goes blank as she gently lures him to stand before she kneels down, trailing kisses down his exposed chest and his scars. Her love poured into his body as her lips traced his autopsy scars. Her eyes shining so pretty as she presses an extra long kiss to his matching tattoo on his Adonis belt.

The silent vow that was made a year and a half into dating on a drunk night out with Roy.

‘I am hers and she is mine’

“Let me be a good wife to you, Mr. Todd.” She whispers against his skin. Her breath like hot fire before her hands snake off his belt and trousers. Her mischievous eyes gleaming in lustful delight as Jason’s lip curls in between his teeth. His eyes almost glowing as she presses her warm lips against his clothed tip. His hand fisting into her hair as he hisses at her.

“Don’t you fucking tease me…”

*RING* *RING*

Jason glares at the phone before he snatches it up. He sees the familiar notification as his own image shown on the phone. FaceTime.

“Answer it.”

“What?” Jason asks in confusion before looking down to her. His surprise was suppressed with a hiss as she pulls his hard cock out of his underwear. Her hand lazyily stroking him as she gives him a look of faux innocence.

“Answer it. It’s rude to ignore family..”

Jason feels a smirk curled onto his face as he realizes what she wanted. His dick hardened to iron as he remembers why he fell for her.

She was just as fucked as he was.

With that, Jason schools his face as he answers the phone with an annoyed expression.

“What?” He says as the image of his brother appears on his phone screen.

Dick glares at Jason before snapping at him. “You got fucking married?! Without inviting any of us?!”

“Didn’t Alfred tell you why we didn’t want you guys there?” Jason asked in as much annoyance as he can muster as he felt the wet pull of lips around his cock.

His hand gripping her hair kept her from getting more than his tip in as he hides his reaction. Her tongue licking his tip like a kitten wanting milk.

“But we are family for fucks sake.”

Jason’s actual annoyance getting the best of him as he hisses,

“I’m sorry, but I recall you trying to fuck my wife.”

“THAT WAS BEFORE I KNEW YOU WERE DATING HER!!”

Jason becomes distracted as (Y/N) starts sucking him off. Her drool and his precum slowly beginning to coat her mouth and hand as it strokes what she can’t fit into her pretty mouth.

His brow furrowed as his pleasure and annoyance started to mix on his face. Jason decides to get some payback on both his wife and brother as he slyly mentions.

“Oh but you had no problem rubbing one out when I sent those videos.”

He pulls her closer to his pelvis to muffle her surprised moan. If he wasn’t on the phone, he would degrade her like a slut with how she acts when she remembers being recorded. Her cheeks hollow as Dick’s jaw drops as Jason mentions the videos.

“I-I..”

“Admit it.” Jason says, his voice grew more taunting. “You probably still jack off to the videos because you’re nothing but a loser who cheats on any good woman he gets because you’re scared of attaching to someone.”

Jason can feel her eagerness grow as she sucks harder, actually pulling him as deep into her throat as she can. He almost wanted to both laugh at how cute she was as she gagged around him and coo at how proud he was of her. Her jaw was gonna be hurting like a bitch either way.

Dick’s baffled expression almost made it better as his eyes shined with shame over what Jason knew to be true.

“That’s why Bruce gave me Martha’s ring.” Jason says as he forces (Y/N) to take him all the way down her throat. Her nose pressing into his light patch of black hair as Jason says. “fuck…I can fuck (Y/N) like I fucking hate her guts and she would take it because she knows I would rather swallow glass than fuck anyone else like I do her. To even love anyone halfway as I do her would be a sin…”

The fluttering feeling of her throat as her nails digged into his thigh affirming his conviction.

“I’m not afraid to get attached… As long as she lives, I’ll never let her go…”

He hangs up before Dick can respond as he yanks her back by her hair. Her coughing and gasping for air as she whine painfully at both the lost of his cock in her mouth and the painful grip on her scalp.

Jason releases her hair before kneeling beside her on the floor. His expression tender as he cups her face. Her light makeup look from the wedding was now smudged off with her mascara flowing down her face with her tears. Her lips puffy and wet from his assault on her mouth. Her body littered in forming bruises from his teeth. Her cunt sloppy and leaking a clear sheen down her thighs. Her cheek leaning into his palm as her eyes shined at him with nothing but love and desire.

“Fuck…” He groans before crawling inbetween her legs as he pushes her to lay down on the floor. His mouth back on hers as his throbbing erection lightly dragged against her fluttering pussy. The head catching her clit despite the watery resistance as she whimpers into his mouth.

“You look so pretty like this…” Jason says before sticking his tongue down her throats. Their tongues tangling for a moment before his hands cup her face and pull her away. “You feel it, don’t you?”

She whines as his hips rolled against hers. Her cunt angry as it fluttered around nothing. His nearly red dick twitching as it desires salvation in her temple as Jason breathlessly whimpers.

“Feel how bad I need you baby? Fuck I can’t stand it. I wanna fuck you every day so I can see you look like this.” He says as he wraps his hand his member. He slaps her pussy with it twice before dragging his head over her entrance, the heavy appendage dipping in slightly as he says.

“I wanna ruin you so good. You’re such a good pretty girl that I want to ruin and make as fucked up as me…”

Her gasps fill the room as he starts to bully his tip into her. Even though they were both well experienced with each other, every time she takes him feels like the first time with that delicious stretch.

His unusually talkative mood doesn’t let up as he pushes his hips into her, forcing her to take him.

“You’re so gorgeous…” He whispers as he pulls her legs over his shoulders as he grasps her hips, forcing them up as he starts to fill her to the hilt. “God, this pussy is unbelievable…gonna fill her up everyday and eat her out every night…”

His thrusts start off slow but hard as her hands desperately held onto what bit of Jason she could as he fucked her like a doll. Her whimpers and moans filling the air as the sticky sound of his balls smacking her ass.

His hot breath tickles her ears as his hips develop the torturous pattern of pistoling into her like a hard buck before rolling in a deep and filling thrust. Her eyes filling with tears and brain fog as he filled her lust sick brain with praise.

“Such a good little wife…a sweet little thing with a nice soft body for me…” He groans as his pace becomes brutal. His precision and memory impeccably beats anything he learned as a vigilante as he assaults her G-spot. Her eyes rolling back as lighting strikes her the brain as she begins to cry.

“Fuck. Fuck. fuck…” she sobs incoherently as Jason licks the tears off her face.

“You look so hot when your cry…” Jason moans as his thrusts start to become more sloppy. His reaches between them as he rubs tight circles on her clit as he thrusts harder into her soft cunt.

“Will you cry some more please?” He’s asked in a cruel tone. His eyes blown out with desire as he lets his full weight pin her down under him. His added weight making her pinned as she cries. Her stomach tightening at the overwhelming presence of him and his cock destroying her insides.

“I’m gonna fuck a baby into you, Ma…” He says as his own whimpers fall through. “Gonna watch you get swollen and carry a little perfect baby and know that you’re mine…that no one can love you like me… ain’t that right?”

Her impending orgasm blocking off all rational thoughts as her mouth hangs open. His hand pulls from her clit to her frustration and grabs a hold of her jaw. Forcing her to look at him as he says harshly.

“Who do you belong to ,Pretty Girl?”

Her eyes widen as she says, “You…I belong to you baby…”

Jason smirks as he starts thrusting faster. Her shrieks just music in his ears as she falls off the edge. Her vision clouded as white flashes in her vision. Her body nearly convulsing as her cunt squeezes Jason into his own orgasm. His warm seed flooding her quivering womb as he presses a kiss into her neck.

The pair remained still for a moment as they gasped for air. The natural chill of the room causing them to tremble at the stimulation. Her small hand moving first as she grabs his hand, her fingers playing with the gold band on his finger as she whispers.

“My husband…” A soft satisfied smile on her lips as Jason grins widely into her neck as he mumbles.

“All yours, Mrs. Todd.”

**********************

AN: Yea I didn’t know how to end this. 😭 I hope you guys like it because I’m not too sure if the smut is good or not. Let me know what you think as I’m trying to clear out the drafts. Again, Thank you @jjenthusee for inspiring these two fanfics and for being a great mutual.

*******************

@simpingforheros fanfic. I DO NOT CONDONE THE THEFT, COPYING, REPOSTING, AND PLAGIARISM OF MY WORK ON THIS SITE OR OTHER SITES WITHOUT CREDIT OR PERMISSION.

[flwrstqr]

enhypen hyung line reaction when you start distancing them

pairings: cold bf!enhypen x fem!reader | genre: fluff, ot7 work, imagines, angst ish| wc: 700+ | warnings: not proofread | an: this is the cutest prompt ever?? also bye why did i write 10x more than i thought. i didn't write all ot7 so sorry anon for that TT, i wrote too much and i thought if i did ot7, it might be a bit overwhelming to read.. may be releasing a maknae line ver soon | LIBRARY FOR MORE... (maknae line)

이희승 (lhs)

heeseung and you were known for having a somewhat fragile relationship. it wasn’t exactly toxic, but there was a noticeable weakness in your bond. whenever you tried to be affectionate, clinging to heeseung's arm and giving him small kisses, he would soon brush you off, saying he had a call to take. as he left the room, you began to wonder if you were being too clingy or obsessed. after all, heeseung was someone you had liked for months. consumed by overthinking, you decided to avoid heeseung. during dinner, as you prepared the food, heeseung noticed your unusual silence. your mouth was shut tight, and you showed no expression. the only words you said to him were, "come, eat." dinner passed in silence, and now it was heeseung’s turn to overthink. did he do something wrong? was he too cold? after dinner, heeseung retreated to his room, sitting in his usual chair and staring at the ceiling, replaying every conversation he had with you. a pang of guilt struck him as his usually cold demeanor began to melt away. hearing you sobbing quietly in your room, he couldn’t ignore it any longer. he walked in and wrapped his arms around you, and you felt his presence beside you. for the first time, he had a small smile on his face. your eyes were swollen from crying, but he gently wiped your tears and apologized for anything he had done to hurt you . ($U#IOEFHKDLFJ:% im tweaking) in that moment, you realized that heeseung did have a soft side, one that he reserved just for you.

rest of members below the cut !

박종성 (pjy)

you always loved comfort in jay’s presence. your friends often teased you about being clingy, but you often brushed it passed you. one day, hidden behind a corner, you overheard him talking to jungwon. “she's so clingy,” jay said, a hint of annoyance in his voice. the words pierced through you, leaving a sting of hurt. From that moment, you distanced yourself, pulling back from jay’s side. jay felt the change, your silence during dinners, messages becoming more dry and sent on delivered, and how you were always in your room. jay realized his mistake. one day as the two of you quietly were walking home, you felt a pair of fingers intertwine with yours. you turn to find jay's hand sneakily touching yours and grasping it. your eyes widened as you see jay's cheeky smile. "i'm sorry." were the two words you hear first. you realize what he meant as you feel tears falling down, embracing him then and realizing how much he actually did love you.

심재윤 (sjy)

being clingy with jake had always felt normal to you until one night when he called you clingy, unintentionally hurting your feelings and creating distance between you. the word stung, leaving you with a broken heart. locking yourself in your room, you cried for hours. it wasn't until jake realized the impact of his words that things began to change. to make it up to you, he tried everything: apologies, letters, and even attempts to talk it out with you. then, one night, you found one of his letters in front of your door, reading each word through your tears. you realized he truly had a soft spot for you. at the end of the letter, it said, "i love you, so please don't be sad, my angel." how could you not fall in love with him all over again?

박성훈(psh)

the evening air is cool against your skin as you walk with sunghoon, his presence a comforting warmth beside you. but as you enter the restaurant, his remark about your clinginess sends a chill down your spine. you bite your lip as you realize what he meant. throughout dinner, the conversation feels forced, the laughter hollow. he realizes how your voice went more and more quiet through out each conversation. your silence speaking for itself. as you walk back, sunghoon stops under a street lamp, his expression softened by the gentle glow. his apology is hesitant, but his eyes speak volumes. "im sorry, i was being mean, i truly think you're a beautiful person."

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 16: Big Brown Eyes

Summary: Things have returned to normal, or at least they seem to have. Nothing can ever go your way, though, can it?

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 7925 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, unprotected sex, p in v sex, oral sex, face sitting, grinding, spanking (it's like once and not even on the ass), Kyle is definitely a munch, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, reader is a little shit, angst, PTSD, nightmares, trauma, mommy issues, family issues, language, the author's bias showing just a tad.

A/N: Have you ever cried while writing smut? I have. Had two mental breakdowns during the course of this chapter, the worst of the two during the smut scene. Sobbing while writing the reader getting her back blown out? That's a new one for me. But, I did it. I finished Chapter 16 this week. I'm feeling significantly better than I was, at least physically. Giving it to you a day early because I feel bad about not posting last week. The events of this chapter pick up pretty much where the previous one left off. Timeline wise, this chapter is spread over roughly a week-ish. And special thanks to the battle rattle anon for inspiring part of this chapter 🫶

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

(This is my all time favorite gif of him I swear I stare at it way too much)

You’re clawing at the door frame, desperately clinging to the last thing you can hold on to, the last shred of your life as you know it. You fight the hands pulling at your arms, threatening to pull you away from the comfort, the warmth, the safety of your home, of your pack. 

Your mothers grief-stricken sobs reach your ears, her cries of desperation as they rip you from her, your father’s hate filled gaze directed at you over her shoulder as he holds her back. She loves all her children, but you were always her favorite. The bond between you two was always the strongest. 

Now you know why. 

The arms rip you from the doorframe seconds before the door slams closed. It’s like a gavel strike declaring your fate, cutting you off from everything you knew. You’re pulled back from the door, from the house that had become your safe space, from the pack inside. 

They’re not your pack anymore. The thought is like a sharp knife, severing the lifelong bond in your mind. You’re not a part of them anymore. You’re alone in this world, cut off from what you knew, and it’s all your fault. 

If only you could have presented as an alpha, like you were supposed to. 

You’re sobbing, breaths coming in choking gasps. Your chest feels tight, your body tense and aching as you fight against the constricting hold around you. 

“Easy, easy.” A deep voice murmurs in your ear, your senses beginning to return. “Yer alright, kitten.” 

Your breaths continue to come in shaky gasps as you start to recognize your surroundings. You’re in Johnny’s room still. His arms are wrapped tight around you, your own pinned against your chest. You had fallen asleep before you even realized it, exhausted after your night with Johnny. 

“Ye were havin’ a nightmare.” He says, projecting his natural beta scent in an attempt to get you to relax. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, letting the scent start to numb your brain. The tears continue to slide down your cheeks, but slowly your breathing begins to normalize. Johnny begins to loosen his hold around you, not letting you go, but enough that you don’t feel like you’re being constricted anymore. 

“Si gets them too.” Johnny continues, speaking quietly. His breath is warm as it fans your ear, reminding you that you’re awake now, and your nightmare is behind you. “Woken up tae elbows and fists in my face many times.” 

You keep your eyes closed, taking in deep breaths as Johnny lays with you in silence, his fingers gently stroking your arms. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep. You hadn’t meant to have a nightmare. Not in front of them. You knew it would happen eventually, but you had hoped you could avoid it as long as possible. 

You don’t want to reveal your weakness, your pain, your inner struggle to them. They have enough of their own, they don’t need to know how broken you are too. 

You lay there, slowly calming your breaths and the slight tremble in your limbs as you wait for Johnny to begin questioning you. He’ll want to know, he’ll want to hear what it is that’s plaguing your mind. You’ll have to tell him, you’ll have to explain everything and then he’ll want to know more. He’ll want to unearth the brokenness and the pain that you’ve buried so deeply like an archaeologist looking for the secrets of an ancient civilization. 

You don’t want to reveal it, you want to bury it again, lock it back in the recesses of your mind where it can’t hurt you. You want to compress it back down until you feel safe again without the threat of the past hanging over your head. 

Johnny continues to relax his hold around you as you begin to calm down again, the tears finally slowing to a stop. You take deep breaths, trying to match Johnny’s even breathing behind you. You wait for it, the inevitable question, the prodding, the digging. He’ll want answers, he’ll want to know what plagues your mind, how much it’s been happening, why you haven’t said anything. 

You’re not sure how much time passes as you lay there, counting breaths. It’s silent in the room, in the barracks. Even outside it’s quiet, as if the world is holding its breath, waiting patiently for the shoe to drop, for the truth to get revealed. 

You can't wait any longer. The tension is too thick, the thought of waiting for the question to break the silence is too much. You'll rip the bandaid before he can try and force it from you. “I don't-”

“Ye don't have tae tell me.” He cuts you off before you can even start, the words slicing through yours, stopping you from spilling your darkest, innermost thoughts. “We all have them sometimes. No shame in that.” He tightens his grip on you for a moment, pulling you closer against his chest. “Simon doesn't even tell me all of his. Thinks he might scare me off, or somethin'. I'm no’ gonnae force ye to tell me anythin’ if ye don’ want to.” 

You're taken aback by his words. You suppose they all have to be plagued by nightmares of their own, with the kinds of things they have to see when they're in the field. Ghost had told you a bit about the nightmares that haunt him, and that had only been one tragedy, one mission. You suddenly feel silly. The kinds of things you’re afraid of, the nightmares that terrify your mind suddenly seem inconsequential to the things they must dream about at night. 

You wiggle in Johnny’s arms until you’re facing him, his eyes half closed as he stares down at you. You shift forward, pressing your face against his bare chest. His head tucks so his chin rests against the top of your head as he holds you, his breathing slowing just slightly as he drifts back to sleep. You don’t sleep, laying there awake as you listen to the slow, rhythmic beating of Johnny’s heart. 

He’s snoring quietly, breath fanning across your hair as he sleeps peacefully. You let your fingers trail over his skin as you wait for his early alarm that will signal the end of your quiet moments of bliss, snapping you both back into your realities. You trace the scars lining his skin, all of them with their own stories, just like John’s. 

He makes a garbled, snorting noise as your fingers brush over his ribs, his entire body twitching. His hand moves, his fingers wrapping around your wrist. “Tickles.” He murmurs, lifting your arm so it’s draped around his neck. He's asleep almost immediately, as if he hadn't woken at all from your tickling. 

You continue to lay there as he sleeps, your mind drifting between sleep and your racing thoughts until Johnny’s alarm goes off. He groans, reaching across you to turn it off. He lays still, breath still fanning over the top of your head. For a moment you’re worried he’s fallen asleep again, but eventually he moves, rolling on top of you. 

He presses his face against your neck, letting out a quiet groan. He’s heavy, but a solid weight above you. It’s comforting, the weight of him like a blanket keeping you safe. He presses gentle kisses against your neck, his fingers trailing across your shoulder before brushing over your mark. You let out a whine, arching against him. 

“Screamin’ Jesus.” He curses, getting hard against your thigh. 

“Don’t you have to go work out?” You ask as he begins to grind against you. 

“Would rather stay here with you.” He growls against your throat. 

“Won’t you get in trouble?” You gasp, bucking up against him. 

“Worth it.” He grunts, kicking the sheets off the end of the bed. 

“Someone missed the morning workout.” Kyle says as you and Johnny sit down at the table for breakfast. You’re the last ones there, despite Johnny skipping his early morning workout. 

You take your normal spot between Kyle and John, sitting gingerly on the hard bench. There’s still a distinct ache between your thighs from Johnny’s enthusiasm and intense stamina last night and this morning.  

“Aye, don’t worry. I still got a good workout in.” Johnny says cheekily, winking across the table at you. 

You’re afraid you may combust as the other three pairs of eyes at the table look at you. It’s no secret what you were doing last night, or this morning. Johnny, as in most aspects of his life, is loud in bed. Kyle had known you were going to, and so had Simon, but you find your gaze turning to John as your face warms. 

You’re not quite sure what you’re expecting as you look at him. It’s not like he had forbidden you from pursuing relationships with the others, or even shown any distaste at the idea. You were open to love the other members of the pack, just as they did one another, just as he did. 

His face is stoic as he stares at you, before it begins to lighten, a gleam shining in his eyes. “Did he take good care of you?” He asks, the corner of his lips twitching. 

You swallow thickly, your face getting warmer as you nod. “Yeah.” 

“Good.” John grins. “ Then I suppose I can forgive him for sleeping in this morning, so long as it doesn’t become a habit.” He casts his glance across the table. 

“I’m a bad influence.” You say, spooning porridge into your mouth. 

“Certainly worth the trouble, though.” Johnny says, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “Especially when you do that thing with your tongue-”

Johnny’s words are cut off with a pained yelp as Ghost kicks him under the table. “Don’t go spilling all her tricks.” He grumbles, eyeing the tables around you. 

You think your face might be permanently warm at the thought of anyone nearby hearing the topic of your conversation. Of course they know, but hearing about it was something entirely different. 

Kyle walks you back to the barracks after breakfast, your hand in his, fingers laced together. His thumb rubs the back of your hand absentmindedly, shoulders brushing as you walk. Neither of you say anything, but you don’t have to. Unlike Johnny, Kyle is happy to exist in silence. They’re so very different, despite both being betas. 

Your brothers had often joked about betas being boring, and how glad they were that neither of your parents were betas. You’d disagree now, after spending some time around betas. They’re just as complex as alphas and omegas, in their own ways. 

Boring was the last thing you’d describe Johnny as last night. 

Kyle holds the door for you as you enter the barracks, following you down the hall. You stop in front of your door, your hand pausing on the knob as Kyle leans in close to you. 

His chest presses against your back, breath fanning your ear as he speaks. “Can’t wait to find out about this trick you do with your tongue.” 

Your face warms again, your heart thudding in your chest as you turn to look up at him, tongue darting out to wet your lips. “You could find out right now.” 

Kyle’s lips lift in a smirk as he leans in closer, trapping you against the door. “I’d love to, but I don’t think the Captain would be quite so forgiving if I skipped out on this training.” 

You stare up at him, lost in his big brown eyes. “Soon?” 

He smirks, leaning down to kiss you. “Of course. Just say the word.” 

He leaves you there with your heart thudding in your chest, your stomach churning in excitement. You’d be more than willing to go that extra step with Kyle right at this very moment, but the subtle ache between your thighs thanks to Johnny is a good reminder why you should wait. You want to enjoy your time with Kyle.

You know it will be worth the wait. 

“How have you been?” 

You shrug, sinking back into the plush chair. It’s warm in the office, a stark contrast to the cold downpour outside. “Fine.” You answer, running your hands over your jeans. “Tired.” 

“Oh?” Dr. Keller raises an eyebrow at you. “Have you not been sleeping well?” 

“I’m...having a hard time falling asleep.” You say. It’s not entirely a lie, but it’s not the whole truth. 

“Why do you think that is?” She asks, writing something down. 

Your palms begin to sweat. You hadn’t planned on going into too much detail about this with her, but you knew she’d likely notice and remark on your tired appearance. “Been thinking too much.” 

“About what?” She probes, staring at you. 

You know you don’t have to tell her anything. What you share is up to you. Yet, you can feel the words bubbling up, threatening to spill over before you can stop them. “My family.” You say, releasing some steam from the boiling pot inside you. Tears burn your eyes, threatening to fall as you continue. “Especially my mom. I miss her a lot sometimes.” 

“You had a close bond with her.” Dr. Keller says. It’s not a question. 

You nod. “The closest out of all of my siblings.” You snuffle, wiping the tear trailing down your cheek. “Makes sense why.” 

“Sometimes we have traits or behaviors that show before we present that hint at our possible status. Having a stronger bond with one parent over another, especially in mixed status packs, can signal what one might present as.” Dr. Keller says. “Were you the first omega to present in your pack?” 

You nod. “Yeah. My older brothers were alphas, and I don’t know about my younger siblings.” 

“That could all contribute to a strong bond with your mother.” Dr. Keller leans back in her seat. “I’m assuming you haven’t had any contact with them since the institute.” 

“Not since I was taken from home. The institute didn’t support keeping those connections with previous packs and...I don’t think they would have reached out anyway.” You say, picking at the fabric of your pants. 

“What makes you say that?” Dr. Keller asks. 

You pause, not sure you want to open that bag of worms. If anyone is safe enough to do it with, you know it’s going to be Dr. Keller. She won’t judge you, she won’t think you weak or silly for having such thoughts, such fears. She doesn’t care how broken you are. You’re not part of her pack. She’s an outsider, a doctor above all. 

“Well, they did send me to the institute, didn’t they?” You finally say. 

Dr. Keller hums, staring at you for a moment before she drops her gaze to her notebook, writing something down. “I suppose you have a point there. Hypothetically, if you were given the chance to, would you want to talk to them again? It’s not uncommon for omegas to seek out their previous packs and families after they leave the institute.” 

Your stomach twists at her question. Even if it is only hypothetical, you had existed for years in the institute thinking you’d never get to see or hear from your family again. They were behind you, lost to you. They wouldn’t accept your attempts to reach out to them, even if you knew where they were. Even after leaving the institute, you knew the chances of seeing them again or even just hearing from them was almost none. You have a new pack now, your old one doesn’t matter. 

That’s just the life of an omega. 

Would you want to? In this hypothetical world where this question exists as a potential option, would they even answer if you called? Would they accept an invitation to see you again, if they were given the chance? Could your father feel regret after all of these years for what he did to you? 

“I...” You frown, tears pricking your eyes again. “I don’t know.” 

“That’s okay.” Dr. Keller says. “It’s a complex situation. If you ever wanted to, though, I’m sure they could make it happen.” 

Your gaze snaps to hers, the shock at her words clearly written on your face. Of course they probably could. It was their job to hunt down hard to find people, and with the CIA at their backs, you’re certain they could track down your family easily. Would they do it for you, if you asked? Would they allow you to have that connection with your old pack while still being part of theirs? 

“Most people keep some form of contact with their family, even after they move on to their own pack.” Dr. Keller says. “It’s not unusual, even among omegas. Just something to think about.” 

“Do you still talk to your family?” You ask her, partly out of curiosity. 

“I do.” She smiles. “I talk to my parents pretty regularly, and my older brother occasionally. He’s involved in this world too. He was in the Army originally, but now he does whatever it is he does.” 

You’re surprised by her answer. Not so much that she still talks to her family, but that she’s familiar with this world. It makes sense, how easily she existed in it, beyond just being a professional. “Do you think it had something to do with you being chosen for this position?” You ask. 

“Most likely.” She grins. “Laswell probably wanted someone who is at least a little familiar with this world, but also someone she knew would work well with you.” 

“I think she made the right choice.” You say. It’s the truth. You like Dr. Keller. You trust her. You’ve grown comfortable in her presence and you look forward to your appointments with her. It almost makes you feel bad for withholding the truth from her. 

“Good. I think so too.” She says. “So, did anything exciting happen this week?” 

You chew on your lip nervously, your hands disappearing into your sleeves as your face warms a bit. “Johnny and I...had our first time together.” 

“Oh?” Her eyebrows raise. “And that’s something you wanted?” 

You nod. “Yeah. I’d like to get close to all of them, well, as close as Ghost will let me get.” You bite your lip again. “Ghost...gave me some pointers on how to handle Johnny. It worked. He...let me take control. I liked it.” 

“Nothing wrong with that.” Dr. Keller says. “I think it’s great that you’ve discovered this about yourself. I know omegas are so used to being controlled in society. I think it’s great that you’ve found a place where perhaps you can take a little control back.” 

She’s not wrong. Your entire life has been dictated for you, controlled by someone else. The baton of control was just continually passed from your father, to the institute, to the CIA, and now to John. Though John has granted you the most freedom of everyone that’s held control over you, there’s still requirements for obedience and submission to him. You’ll never be your own person. That’s just the way society works, and you’ve come to accept that. 

Yet, you’ve never felt quite so powerful as you did in bed with Johnny, when you’d gripped him by the mohawk like Ghost had instructed you to. When you saw the change in his eyes as you took over, controlling him, telling him what to do. You liked it, exerting control over someone else for a change. He just let you do it. It still sends a thrill down your spine at the thought of the possibilities, the things you can do now that you’ve discovered this part of yourself. You’d never show it in public, but behind closed doors...

The book was right. Perhaps omegas can be powerful. 

“What are we doing?” You ask, staring up at John as he straps a tactical vest onto your body. 

“We’re doing an exercise, and you’re going to help us.” He answers, double checking the vest before putting a helmet on your head. “Think of it as hide and seek mixed with tag.” He finishes strapping the helmet to your head, taking a step back. “How does it feel?” 

“Heavy.” You feel weighed down with the vest and the helmet.

“You’ll get used to it.” He says with a smile, guiding you towards the door of the warehouse. 

It’s dark inside, nearly pitch black except for the light coming in from the open door. There’s fake walls set up in front of you, with space just in the middle like a sort of hallway that disappears into the darkness. 

“Your job is to get from this side of the warehouse, to the other without getting caught.” John says. “No weapons, just you trying to evade us and get to the other side while we try and catch you,” John lowers the goggles on the top of the helmet, the world coming alive in shades of green around you. “And night vision goggles. Be smart about it. Understood?” 

You nod, looking around with the goggles, trying to adapt to using them. “Yes, sir.” 

“Good. You have a thirty second head start. Use it wisely.” 

He leaves the warehouse, closing the door behind him. You’re left in complete darkness, with no sound but a fan running somewhere, probably to dampen any sounds that might echo. You stand there for a moment, trying not to breathe too heavily, as it might echo in the warehouse. You stare at the door behind you for a second before you begin to move forward, the adrenaline starting to pump. You have to get to the other side of the warehouse before they catch you. Are they working together or individually? What kind of strategy will they use? What strategy will you use? 

You begin to pick up speed, running until you reach the end of the first hallway. It splits off in both directions, and you hesitate for a moment. Be smart about it. You don’t have many advantages in this situation. They’ve done this before, both in training and probably in the field as well. They’re highly skilled soldiers, trained to hunt down people in all sorts of environments, sometimes with nothing more than their scent. 

Scent. 

Of course. 

You take off down the right hallway, following it as it twists and turns like a maze. A giant maze. There’s so many hallways, so many places to run, but not many to hide. That’s not the point, though. You have to get to the other side of the warehouse before they do. You have to track your way through this maze without getting caught by four special operations soldiers. 

Simple enough. 

You pause at a corner, undoing your vest so you can slip your sweatshirt off. You’re just putting your vest back on when the door opens, bathing the ceiling with light for a moment. It’s started. They’re inside. You can’t hear anything over the hum of the fan, and that’s almost more terrifying to you than if you had been able to hear them. The adrenaline is pumping now as you toss your sweatshirt in the corner before quickly backtracking and heading a different direction.

You try to keep your breathing quiet as you weave through the maze, doubling back and touching the walls every so often to try and leave your scent behind and confuse them. You take deep breaths through your nose as you go, trying to catch any whiff of them, any sign that you might have crossed their path or be getting close to them. They’ll reach the same area of the maze as you’re in eventually, sooner rather than later. You need to start pressing forward. You’re not just evading them, you have to reach the other side before they catch you. 

You slip around a corner, pressing up against the wall as something moves behind you. You hold your breath, quiet footsteps passing by your position. Your hands are shaking from the adrenaline, the instinctual fear of being hunted rising in you. You take a couple of quiet deep breaths, slipping your shoes off to grab your socks before slipping them back on. You peek around the corner, finding nothing. 

You toss one of your socks in the corner before doubling back, pausing as you cross one of their scents. Johnny. You recognize the citrusy tang in the air. Christ, you’ve never heard him be that quiet before. You continue on, your heart racing in your chest as you carefully weave around corners, slipping through hallways. They’re close to you now. They could be around any corner. 

You pause as you cross the scent of leather and musk, something prickling in the back of your mind. It’s a fresh scent. You pause for a moment, looking in the direction he went before slipping around the corner. You still have your other sock clutched in your hand, knuckles white as you grip it tightly. 

You should be nearing the end. The warehouse isn’t that big, even with all the doubling back and dodging you’ve been doing. You toss your other sock in a corner haphazardly as you decide to stop doubling back and go for the exit. You have to try and get ahead of them, as well as find your way through the maze to the exit door. 

Simple enough. 

Except, you have no idea which direction the exit is, or which direction you’re heading. You could be going backwards for all you know. You weave through the halls, around the corners, focusing on finding the end of the maze. 

In your concentration you fail to notice the scent, weaving through the halls mindlessly as you attempt to reach the end of the maze. You pay for it as the sound of boots on the concrete floor rushes up behind you. You let out a startled shriek of surprise as your feet leave the floor, your body ragdolling over someone’s shoulder. 

“Got her!” He yells out, weaving around a couple corners before light floods the warehouse, making you wince. 

Your squint as your feet hit the ground again, the night vision goggles lifted from your face. Your nose crinkles as you stare up at Kyle’s smug face, his lips pulled up in a smirk. 

“No fair.” You pout. “I was so close!” 

“You were, but you got sloppy at the end there.” He says, undoing the strap of your helmet to help you take it off. You’re sweaty underneath it, hair sticking to your forehead. You’re glad you ditched your sweatshirt now. 

“Not bad.” John says, exiting the warehouse, Ghost and Johnny following. “Nice strategy.” He says, tossing your sweatshirt to you. 

You shrug, hugging it to your chest. “Had to think fast with what I had on hand.” 

“Running around with no socks on too.” Ghost says, holding up your socks. 

“Left you a little present. You can keep them if you want.” You smirk. 

“Don’t want your nasty socks.” He grumbles, tossing them to you. 

“That was fun.” You say, grinning up at them. “Like being hunted.” You don’t miss the quiet rumble in John’s chest at your words, his eyes darkening just a bit. “Can someone help me out of this now though,” You say, reaching for the velcro straps on the vest. “It’s squishing my boobs.” 

The TV is playing some show, but you're not really paying attention. You haven't been, not for a while now. Your adrenaline had still been pumping a bit after your participation in the exercise earlier, putting you on edge the rest of the day. It had been a bit thrilling, the idea of being hunted like that. You can understand now how omegas enjoy being hunted, beyond just the inevitable end. 

The thought of that being how the exercise ended, all four of them at once, out where anyone could see you...your skin begins to prickle as heat blossoms in your veins. Kyle would get to take you first because he won, he caught you so easily. Would John go second, or would he allow the other members of his pack to go first? Ghost would be rough, taking you from behind, hands bruising on your hips. Your teeth sink into your lip as you imagine him over you, a position you often found yourself in during your training with him. He's just so big, so strong. They all are. 

You won't be able to control yourself during training if you keep going down that thought path. 

John would be gentle, piecing you back together after the others have had their way with you. He'd take care of you, like a good alpha, dragging one more orgasm out of you after you think you can't anymore. 

You let out a shaky breath, trying to calm your scent. You're stinking up the rec room with your fantasies. You turn your head to look at the TV, trying to focus on what's happening on the screen in an effort to distract yourself. 

It doesn't work, the subtle dampness between your thighs ever present on your mind. You have half a mind to get up and seek out Kyle, but like a miracle he appears in the doorway of the rec room. You see his nostrils flare, the lift of his shoulders as he inhales. He can smell your arousal, the spike in the sweetness of your scent. You have no doubt about that. He doesn't say anything, though, instead he approaches the couch silently, kneeling at the end. 

He settles himself on top of you, resting his head on your chest. He lets out a breath as he settles, keeping some of his weight off of you, but he's still pressed against you like a weighted blanket. You fight the urge to shift beneath him, to press your hips up against him, to seek any ounce of relief for the warmth between your thighs. 

You're not sure he's watching the TV either as he lays there, relaxed over you. Your fingers trail patterns across his back, gliding over his soft shirt. He's in blue today, one of your favorite colors on him. He looks good in anything, the perks of being pretty, but blue is one of your favorite colors on him. 

It's silent between you for a while, Kyle relaxed above you while you fight to relax beneath him. If he’s affected at all by your scent, he hides it well. You have half a mind to ask him to take pity on you, to slip his hand beneath your sweatpants and ease the ache between your thighs. He had said whenever you wanted it. All you have to do is ask. 

You shift slightly beneath him, lifting your hand to his head. “Kyle?” You ask, gently trailing your fingers over his scalp. He'd gotten his hair buzzed recently, the curly strands shorter than normal. 

He hums in response, the sound rumbling through your body from where his head rests on your chest. When you don't reply right away he lifts his head, blinking up at you with those big brown eyes. 

“Kiss me?” You ask. 

Your heart starts to race as he pulls himself closer to you, his body dragging against yours. His eyes dart to your lips before they look back into yours for a moment. He leans down, slipping his arms underneath your back as he closes the gap between you. His lips are soft against yours, his kisses gentle and controlled as he holds you like you might break in his grasp. 

“Kyle?” You murmur against his lips, your arms wrapping around his neck. 

He hums again in response, pulling away just slightly to stare down at you. 

“‘M not gonna break.” You say, dragging your nails over his scalp again. “Kiss me like you mean it.” 

His lips twitch in a smirk before he leans down, pressing his lips hard against yours. It’s a searing kiss that nearly steals your breath away. His tongue prods at your lips, and you part them to allow him in. He tastes like the tea he had been drinking after dinner, rich and earthy with a hint of sweetness from the sugar he added. You moan softly into his mouth as his tongue flicks against your own, your thighs squeezing around his waist at the thought of that tongue between your legs. 

He smirks against your lips as if he knows exactly what you’re thinking, his body shifting over yours so he can press one of his thighs between your legs. You move instinctively, your hips grinding against his thigh. Finally you're getting some friction, some relief from the ache. 

“Fuck.” He breathes, pulling you tighter against his chest. “That’s it.” He groans, pressing his thigh harder against your grinding hips. “Gonna cum on my thigh, just like that?” He nips at your jaw, trailing kisses down the line towards your neck. “Haven’t even touched you yet.” 

You try to muffle your moans as you continue to grind against his thigh, the friction on your clit pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “Kyle?” You gasp out, gripping the back of his shirt. “Gonna fuck me on the rec room couch?” 

He lifts his head from your neck, staring down at you for a moment. “Fuck, you’re right. Your room or mine?” 

“Yours.” You say, hanging on for dear life as he scoops you up off the couch, wrapping your legs around his waist. 

He walks you to his room, carrying you the entire way. He kicks the door shut, beelining for his bed. He drops you down on the mattress, your body bouncing as he hastily peels his shirt off, revealing an expanse of smooth skin marked here and there by scars. You immediately reach out, trailing your fingers over his skin. It’s just as soft as it looks, your fingers trailing the lines of his muscles. 

His hand flattens over yours as it reaches his chest, pressing it into his warm skin as he leans down, kissing you again. His hands slip under your thighs, lifting you and switching your positions so he’s seated on the bed, and you’re in his lap. 

“Anyone ever tell you how beautiful you are?” He says, looking up at you. 

“I think it’s been mentioned before.” You say with a shrug, smiling down at him. 

“It’s the truth.” He says, slipping his hands under your shirt. “Deserve to hear it all the time.” 

“Bunch of handsome men complimenting me constantly?” You say, lifting your arms over your head so he can remove your shirt. “Can’t complain about that.” 

“Luckiest men in the world.” He says, smoothing his hands across your back as he presses his face into your throat. “Pretty little omega.” 

You shiver as his teeth nip at your skin, his thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts. You arch against his chest, pressing yourself closer. There’s a bulge in his pants, a shiver of pride running through you at the thought that you did that to him. You elicited such a reaction from him. 

“I never properly thanked you.” You say, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“For what?” He asks, staring up at you curiously. 

“For taking such good care of me during my heat. Couldn’t have been easy, seeing me like that, knowing you couldn’t even touch me.” You grind your hips against his, his teeth sinking into his lip as you grind against his bulge. “Tell me, how many times did you touch yourself while thinking about me?” 

“Too many to count, love.” He groans, leaning his forehead against yours. “Sounded so sweet, getting ruined by our alpha.” 

“Been so patient, waiting for this.” You gasp, still rocking in his lap, the wetness between your thighs intensifying from the friction. “Tell me how you want me.” 

“Sit on my face.” He growls, pushing you off his lap so he can lay down on the bed. 

You shove your pants and underwear down your legs, fighting the urge to be bashful. Kyle has already seen you at your most vulnerable, been up close and personal with your most private parts. Yet, it feels different like this. More intimate, and less of a necessity. 

You take his hand as he offers it, letting him guide you to kneel over his face. You grip the headboard as you hover over him, his hands settling on your hips. 

“Wait-” You say, before he can pull you down onto his face. “What if I suffocate you?” 

“Then I’ll die a happy man.” He says, tugging you down onto his mouth. 

You let out a gasp as his tongue drags through your folds, already soaked from his teasing. His tongue flicks across your clit, eliciting a quiet moan from your lips. Your hips jerk when his mouth closes around your clit, suckling at it with a lewd smack of his lips. 

“Fuck!” You gasp, grinding your hips against his face as he continues to tease your clit, drawing patterns on it with his tongue. 

You’re close already, your legs trembling around his head. He holds you steady, keeping you still above him as he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking on it harshly. Your knees attempt to squeeze around his head as you cum, soaking his face with a cry. He continues to lap at your folds, licking up every last bit of your release before he finally lets you move off his face.

You drop to the side, staring down at him as you try to catch your breath. He licks his lips, his face shiny with your juices. He reaches a hand over, tangling his fingers in your hair as he pulls your face down to his, kissing you. You moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue and lips, already starting to get wet again. 

Kyle wraps his arms around you, flipping you onto your back under him. He hovers over you, the bulge in his pants very visible, even from this position. 

“Sweet little omega.” He says, nipping at your lips. “So fucking perfect.” 

“Kyle,” You gasp, pulling him down into a kiss. “Need you.” 

“I got you.” He soothes you, pressing another kiss to your lips before he sits back on his knees between your legs, staring down at you. He drags his fingers through your folds, still just as slick as they had been before your orgasm. “So fucking wet.” He groans, hastily undoing his belt and pants, kicking them off the end of the bed. 

You stare at him in awe, his cock just as beautiful as he is. Long and thick, curved just slightly. You can’t help but ogle him as he wraps a hand around the base, squeezing it. He’s hard, raging hard, the tip leaking precum already. He really has been so patient, waiting for this. You almost feel bad making him wait so long, but he had agreed to be patient, if only to keep Johnny from making everyone’s lives miserable with his pouting if he didn’t get to go first. 

It’s only fair that you let Johnny go first too, considering Kyle will likely be the one you spend the most time with. It’s only natural, thanks to your bond with John. Kyle’s your beta, just as much as John is your alpha. You’d like Johnny to be your beta too, but you know without that bond with Ghost, it’ll never feel quite the same as it does with Kyle. Regardless, you’ll continue to treat Johnny as if he was your beta. 

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Kyle asks, watching you as you get lost in thought.

You truly do it at the worst possible times.

You lift your gaze to his, staring into those big brown eyes. “Just waiting on you to hurry up and fuck me.” 

You let out a yelp as Kyle’s hand smacks your inner thigh, the sound cracking through the room. 

“Don’t get cheeky now.” He warns, rubbing the spot on your skin that’s quickly turning warm from his smack. “Just making sure you’re alright.” 

“Fine.” You say, spreading your legs further for him. “Be better if you finally fucked me.” 

Your laugh is broken by a moan as he drags his head through your folds, his hand falling to grip your waist. 

“That needy for me, huh?” He asks, teasingly pressing the tip of his cock into you before pulling back. 

“Just worried you might not make it since you’ve waited so long.” You gasp, trying to move your hips to take him deeper into you, but he pins you with the hand on your hip. 

“Careful what you wish for.” He says, the warning clear in his tone. You handled Johnny just fine, you can certainly handle Kyle. 

You hope. 

He finally takes pity on you, sinking his cock deeper into you. You moan at the stretch, flopping back on the bed as you try to relax around him. He rolls his hips in short thrusts, sinking deeper and deeper as you open up to him. You reach for him as he sinks even further into you, his body folding over yours. You wrap your arms around his neck, staring up at him as he seats himself completely inside you, hips pressed flush against yours. 

“Hi.” You breathe, getting lost in his soft gaze. 

“Hi, love.” He grins down at you, fingers brushing your cheeks as he leans on his elbows above you. “Doing alright?” 

You nod, squeezing around him. “Yeah. Feels good.” 

“Good.” He says, leaning down to kiss you. “Been waiting so long for this. Feels better than I imagined.” 

You let out a quiet whine, clenching around him again. The thought of him imagining this, trying to picture what you’d look like, what you’d feel like while he waited patiently for his turn has your body burning hot. You shift your hips below him, causing him to move inside you. 

“Kyle?” You breathe, shifting again. “Please move.” 

“I got you, love.” He smiles down at you, pulling his hips back before slowly pressing forward again. 

Your head falls back as he moves, keeping his pace slow and languid. Heat burns through your veins, your very nerve endings alive as he slowly rolls his hips into you. Something thrums in the back of your mind, the mark on your shoulder almost tingling as you stare up at him, your fingers trailing over the mark on his shoulder, a mirror of the one on your own. A shudder runs through him as your fingers brush the scar, his lips parting in a low groan. You clench around him at the sight of such unbridled pleasure on his face, pulling him closer against your body.

He drags your pleasure out as he makes love to you, slow and passionate and deliberate with every movement. You know you won’t last much longer, the sensations beginning to overwhelm you. 

“I’m close.” You breathe into Kyle’s ear, pressing kisses across his neck. “Don’t stop.” 

“Gonna cum for me?” He groans, keeping his thrusts steady. “Gonna let me see that beautiful face as you come undone for me?” 

Your back arches as you cum, pushed over the edge by his words. Your nails bite into his shoulders, but he offers no complaint as he continues to roll his hips into yours, working you through your orgasm as he chases his own. His pace picks up slightly as he gets closer and closer to the edge, your eyes on his face, wanting to watch him now. 

“Your turn.” You breathe, still trying to catch your breath from your orgasm as you clench around him. 

His head tilts back, lips parted in a deep moan as his hips jerk. His cock twitches inside you, his thrusts getting sloppy as he cums. You trail your hands over his back, sinking your teeth into your lip as you watch his face morph into complete bliss. You’ve never seen anything quite so beautiful. 

He collapses on top of you, just managing to keep his weight off of you thanks to his elbows planted on the bed beside your head. You continue to rub his back, fingers tracing the smooth, sweat slicked skin, only pausing to trace the scars that you find. Kyle presses soft kisses to your face, slowly trailing lower across your jaw and neck. He presses a kiss to your mark, a shudder running through you. He lets out a groan as you clench around him, shifting so he’s face to face with you again. 

“Give me a minute.” He says, slipping out of you as he presses a kiss to your lips. 

“Tired already?” You ask cheekily. 

“No,” He says, kissing you again before slowly sliding down your body. “Just need a minute to catch my breath. Besides,” He settles between your thighs, pressing them open so he’s face to face with your pussy. “I’ve got a mess to clean up.” 

You stand outside the door of John’s office, brows pulled into a frown. You have a feeling you already know what he’s going to say, yet your mind keeps reeling, coming up with the most fantastical ideas as to why you were summoned to his office in the middle of the day. It’s weird that he’s in his office in the middle of the day. Usually they’d be off training, but he’d pulled them all into a meeting this morning after breakfast, one that had gone into your usual lunch time, and then they hadn’t gone to train after you finally got to eat. 

“Come in.” 

Your hand pauses on the handle as you hesitate, almost as if you could prevent what’s going to happen by just not going in. It’s a ridiculous thought. Avoiding this will only likely get you into trouble. 

You step into the office, the air inside different from any of the other times you’ve been in his office. John’s face looks grim and focused behind his desk, and it’s not hard to tell you’re not facing John right now, you’re facing Captain Price. 

You take the seat across from him at his desk when he motions to it, trying to fight the tears threatening to brim in your eyes as you stare at him. You won’t cry. You knew this was going to happen eventually. You knew going in what was going to inevitably happen. You had been well prepared for this part of your new reality, yet you don’t want to acknowledge it now that you’re staring it in the face. 

“I know you’ve likely already figured out what’s going on.” He says, his voice gruff and deeper than normal. 

You can see it in his face. He’s fighting his own battle with having to tell you. You hadn’t expected it, to see him struggle with it. He knew it as well as you did. He knew it better than you did, and yet, you can see the turmoil behind that focused gaze. 

He lets out a sigh as he continues, hands closing into fists on his desk, his tone almost apologetic. The words sting despite the fact you had known they were coming, despite the fact you had expected them when you walked into the office. “This morning we had a debrief for a new assignment. We’ll be leaving tonight. All four of us.”  

NEXT ->

Taglist:

@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @linaangel @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce @darling006 @sheep-from-rad @ohgodthebogisback @willow-sages @scythemood @daniblogs164 @mirzamsaiph

[snoopyearss]

When jjk characters call you “clingy” pt. 2

Feat. crybaby-ish!reader

Gojo, Geto, Toji

I’m sorry it took so long! I triiiied to make them as realistic as possible based off of their characters so pls don’t bite my head off if it’s not accurate omg it’s call fanfiction for a reason

Part 1 if you missed it!

Satoru Gojo

Guilt and shame filled his body after that little interaction. He didn’t even know where that behavior came from. All he knew was that it was a shameful thing to do. The meeting didn’t go well, and he took it out on you. He felt disgusting. Now all he can hear is the clanging of pots and pans along with the smell of a familiar dish.

His favorite meal.

It made his heart feel heavy. Here he is practically cursing at you and calling you ‘clingy’ while you’re in the kitchen cooking his favorite meal. You didn’t even have to, you could’ve made him order takeout for pulling a stunt like that. But you didn’t. And the fact that you didn’t, hurt him even more. Satoru stepped out of the shower and quickly put on some more comfortable clothes so he could go and apologize to you.

He walked out of your shared bedroom to only one plate by the table with food on it. He presumed it was his. But what he didn’t see was your plate. You both always ate together, “so why didn’t she place both plates on the table?” He thought to himself. He looked around to see where you had possibly gone. He turned to his left when he heard you sneeze. There you were, sitting on the balcony with a fluffy blanket over you, staring at the city before you.

He smiled softly as he admired you so snuggled up against the mini sofa. His eyes traveled to your face filled with sadness, you were sniffling as you wiped away excess tears. His smile dropped and it finally hit him as to why you didn’t set your plate at the table. He knew he had to make things right.

He made his way toward the sliding door, giving you an apologetic smile as he looked into your teary, red eyes. My poor baby.

“Hey, sweetheart,” He says softly and has a seat on the ottoman in front of you. “Hey,” Now it’s you who doesn’t greet him back with a pet name. He notices. “I looked on the table and noticed only one plate. Did you eat already?”

“Wasn’t hungry.” You mumbled. Satoru sighed quietly in response. He knew you didn’t want to eat with him. “Baby, I’m so sorry,” He started. “I’m so sorry for snapping at you and for calling you clingy. Today wasn’t the best day and for some stupid reason, I took that out on you. You didn’t deserve that, you were only just trying to help. It breaks my heart to see you this upset and have it be because of me. I'm so sorry my love.”

You took a deep breath before speaking. “I didn’t mean to annoy you,” Your bottom lip slightly quivering. He got up from the ottoman and sat down next to you. “Hey, no..baby,” He cooed as he scooped you up and placed you on his lap. “You could never annoy me, sweetheart. I love you so much and I never want you to think that I don’t.” He reassured as you softly cried in his chest. He then kissed your forehead and rubbed your back, repeating the phrases “I’m so sorry” and “I love you so much”.

Eventually, you calmed down and you both were just staring at the brightly lit city. “How’re ya feeling sweetheart? Feeling any better?” He tilted his head to the side to look at you, very comfortable in his lap. You nodded yes and he kissed you on your temple. “Would you like to eat dinner together?” You nodded in response. “Ok, good because I want us to eat dinner together.” He chuckled.

He knew that you were a bit sensitive, and it would take a few hours for your mood to change. So to make it up to you, he called off work and took you on a shopping spree the next day.

Suguru Geto

Suguru ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. He knew he had to make things right, especially since you left everyone to run away with him too. Suguru put himself in your shoes for a second. You left your family and friends as well. He couldn’t imagine what you must be going through and it made his chest ache.

“Mr. Geto, where did Y/n go? We wanted to give her a present!” They ran up to him and Nanako opened her hands to show him a flower crown. “Do you think she’ll like it? She taught us how!” She softly asked. He looked at the gift they made and smiled softly. “Of course, she would love it.” he held his hand out for the gift. “It’s lovely, girls.” She giggled in response. “You should give it to her! We made it to cheer her up!”

“Cheer her up?” Suguru frowned. Did they hear your mini-argument? Did they see how you stormed off? He was confused. “Yeah! She seems a bit sad. When she took us to the mall today, she was super quiet.” Their response made him feel worse. “Let me talk to her.” He got up from his seat. Before he was able to walk back in, Mimiko tugged on his shirt. “Don’t forget our present!” She reminded him. “Of course, how could I forget?”

He knocked on the door to your shared bedroom and saw you wrapped up under the comforter. You back was facing the door so you didn’t see when he walked in. “Honey,” he softly said. “Can we talk?”

“So now you wanna talk? I thought I was bein’ clingy.” You scoffed and pulled the comforter over your head. You heard his footsteps get closer to where you were lying and felt a dip in the bed. “Y/n, I’m sorry angel. I’m just so frustrated with everything at the moment and I didn’t mean to say those things. It wasn’t my intention to yell at you, baby.” He said rubbing your thigh. You remained silent for a bit. “You know,” You removed the comforter from your face and sat up. “I left my family and friends too. We all did. I understand your frustration, but you aren’t the only one struggling, Sugu.”

“I know, I’m so sorry baby,” He pulled you into him and wiped your tears. “I couldn't be more glad that you came with me. I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” You both sat in silence for a while.

“You make a great mother for the girls too. I see how they react to you. They love you so much.” He pointed out. “Really?” You sat up in amusement. “Of course! They even made you a gift,” He handed you the flower crown they made for you. “This is so sweet,” Tears began to well up in your eyes again. “They told me you taught them how to make it. You’re way better at this parenting think than I am. But I wouldn’t have made it this far without you.” You smiled in response. “You gotta make it up to me though. You know that right?”

“Of course I do. Anything for my favorite person.”

Toji Fushiguro

Toji has never yelled at you before so it made you jump a bit. Your legs feeling like jello as you walk to baby Megumi’s room to see what was the matter. You wiped your tears from your cheeks before greeting the tiny baby. “Hey ‘gumi, what’s the matter?” You cooed as you picked him up from his crib. “Aw, were you awoken by the noise? It’s okay, my love.” You held him and checked his diaper just in case.

“It’s been a while since you last ate. How ‘bout we give you a bottle hm?” You prepared his bottle and sat with him in the rocking chair. You tested the bottle on your hand before feeding him. A few seconds passed and you heard heavy footsteps walk to the door. “Y/n,” Toji called out, not wanting to startle Megumi anymore. “Toji.”

He sighed at your choice of response. He knew he really fucked up if you resulted to being petty and giving one sentence responses. “Baby-”

“I’m not doing this with you right now. Not in front of him.” You interrupted him, placing Megumi to lean against your chest and burp him. You both waited for him to swiftly fall back asleep before addressing the slight tension between you two.

“I didn’t mean to snap at you like that. I was just-“

“Really frustrated?” You cut him off. “Don’t act like that baby. You know I’m not good at this whole..apologizing thing.” He scratched the back of his neck.

You said nothing.

“C’mere little girl,” he opened his bear arms and like a magnet you attached yourself to his big frame.

“If I ever yell at you like that again, take my gun and shoot me.”

TAG LIST: @hikachipsz @dontxevenxask @dianexo-v @chilichopsticks @koko-1025 @stevenknightmarc @ladyaggaga @satoreo @queenmimis @constawrites @satorugirlie @bluechocolatemint @teenagedreamlandstudent @dvc4 @yanjunify @ressespearlz @nxxun-blog @yinyinyinyinyinyin @honoredalone @iheartlinds @lwyourx

[hyuckiefluff]

may i request a jaemin x femreader where he’s just fucking her dumb and she’s trying to say that her family is downstairs or in the living room? if you’re comfortable with it ofc !!

a/n: first of all THANK YOU SO MUCH for requesting! i would’ve probably disappeared for another two months if it weren’t for this lol! i didn’t know if you wanted something short and sweet or for me to go all out but hopefully you like this! i had fun writing it and it made me revisit my jaemin brain rot so yeaa

for a bit of context, i decided to write this as if jaem and fem!reader are already in a relationship and jaem is the picture of charm and good manners and he could never do anything wrong in his in-laws' eyes but he’s secretly a freak lol (also didn’t wanna make it too long so things move a bit fast)

wc: 1.7k ish

content: just pure smut tbh

warnings: cursing, oral sex and fingering (fem receiving), creampie, loud sex, marking, usage of pet names like princess and pretty girl, boob grabbing

m list

When Jaemin walked into your place your parents welcomed him grinning like they hit the jackpot with their son in law. Your mom invited him to stay for dinner, and your dad gave him a solid friendly pat on the back. But his mind was upstairs, where you remained clueless about his arrival, thinking he was off to visit some relatives.

When he walks into your room, you’re lying on your stomach with your headphones on and wearing nothing but your panties and one of his oversized shirts. The whole scene feels like the start of one of his wet dreams, and he's seriously struggling not to pounce on you. Instead, he sneaks up from behind and gently slips the headphones off. You're not the jumpy type, so you casually turn your head, half-expecting it was your mom barging in. But when you see Jaemin smiling at you, your whole demeanor changes. You don't waste a second, practically wrapping yourself around your boyfriend. He lets out a deep, rumbling laugh that vibrates through you. 

“Missed me, princess?” you responded by kissing his lips, you only meant to give him a soft peck, but he couldn’t contain himself any longer so in no time he had you flush against the mattress and his warm body.

His hands immediately found their way inside your shirt, a delicious moan coming out of him when he felt you weren’t wearing a bra. He would go crazy if he didn’t have you right now, but he also wanted to make you feel good. He pulled away from you slowly, biting your lower lip in the process. Then he started crawling down your body, not missing the way you tensed up as he positioned his face right in front of your sensitive area.

You knew where this was going but you had to remind yourself that you two weren’t alone.

“Jaem… my parents are-…” your words were interrupted as his mouth attached to your core over your panties. The smell and taste of you was driving him feral and he couldn’t bother to even remove the thin piece of clothing. All you could do was gasp and pull his hair.

“Be good for your boyfriend that missed you so much…” he coaxed, his nose nuzzling against you. Your thighs instinctively closed around his head “Don’t hold back, let me hear how pretty you sound”  his warm breath sent shivers racing across your skin. He continued sucking and kitten-licking your pussy, the insistent way in which his tongue was pushing against your entrance in a teasing manner threatening to push you over the edge. He groaned when he felt you weakly push his head away.

In one fluid motion, he discarded your panties, a low whistle escaping him as he saw how they clung to your slickness. His dick twitched uncomfortably in his sweatpants. "Fucking mine," he growled softly before diving between your folds. His tongue and lips latched on your clit like a magnet, producing a chorus of wet sounds that were nothing short of vulgar. 

Despite your efforts to restrain yourself and keep quiet, as soon as he added a finger you were reduced to a whimpering mess. You brought a hand to your mouth, teeth sinking in to stifle the noises, but Jaemin didn’t like that. He pulled away and the sight of his glistening lips coated with your essence caused you to involuntarily tighten around nothing.

"I said..." His voice dipped several tones and his pupils dilated, darkening his eyes in an almost eerie manner "Let me hear you," he demanded. 

"Please… Jaem, my parents are downstairs," you gasped, breathless. He looked unamused by your pleas but still seemed to be contemplating something. 

Then suddenly, he withdrew from you entirely. You thought he would listen to you, so it took you by surprise when instead he discarded his sweatpants and boxers. His erection sprung free in a somewhat comical way. The tip was flushed with urgency, the veins and girth caused you to whimper. Your mouth watered with the desire to take him into your mouth, but Jaemin had different intentions.

"Then let's give 'em a show, princess," he grinned, planting a kiss on your inner thigh before pulling your legs up and positioning himself between them.

He entered you slowly and you couldn't help but whimper at the stretch. His lips curled up at the sounds you were making, knowing it took this little to make you lose all restraint was amusing him more than he cared to admit. He bottomed out right away, giving you no time to adjust. Though he was trying to keep it together, he couldn’t help but let out a string of guttural moans whenever you clenched around his dick. Desperation drove his hips to meet yours with sharp, urgent movements.

"So good for me," he murmured, gaze fixed on the way your pussy took him so well. Biting his lip, he looked up at your face contorted with pleasure. Your flushed appearance, eyes nearly shut, and lips subject to the mercy of your teeth. This is how you looked prettiest to him.

He hiked up your shirt, granting himself an unobstructed view of your boobs. He reached his hand to your right breast and caressed the soft skin there, his fingers toying with your hardened nipple. He relished your reactions to his every touch, loving the way you tried so hard not to be loud.

“Jaem-…fuck-… me," you moaned, his name coming out as a blur amidst a string of curses and cries.

"I am, baby," he quipped, though the strain in his voice betrayed the struggle to keep his composure. The way your walls clenched around him was driving him wild. The grip of his other hand tightened on your hips, urgency escalating as he thrust into you with an almost feral rhythm.

The sound of your skins slapping was obscene and it resonated throughout your room. If your parents walked by your door they would definitely hear and know what you two were up to. You wondered what would happen if they did, would they stop allowing Jaemin to come into your room. Would their trust for him vanish? Those questions made you anxious but the boy didn’t seem to care. And you were soon to follow him, because the way he was fucking you right now was too good.

He lifted your leg higher, adjusting his hips to hit that sweet spot he knew you liked. Your eyes involuntarily rolled back as he plunged deeper into you like this. He was so familiar with your body, knowing exactly where to touch to unravel you. A smirk played on his lips as he tenderly caressed your hips, a stark contrast to the rough way he was thrusting into you.

"You drive me so fucking crazy," he groaned, his rhythm faltering slightly as he leaned in for a messy kiss. Your mouths met in a fervent dance, his tongue swirling around yours, teeth grazing against each other's lips. He devoured every sound that escaped your lips.

Just as you were catching your breath, he abruptly increased his pace, catching you off guard and causing a loud moan to erupt from you, the sudden change overwhelming your senses.

“There we go, that’s my pretty girl” he murmured against your jaw, leaving a wet trail from there to your neck where he started sucking and marking you. Only in places that he knew you would be able to cover. After all, he knew you had to keep up the innocent facade with your parents.

Oh, if only they knew you let your boyfriend fuck you every day under their roof.

“Jaemin! Fuck!” He sneaked a hand down to where your bodies were connected and focused on your neglected clit. His fingers and the insistent thrusts of his hips obliterated any caution you had, leaving you too overstimulated to care about your parents overhearing.

But then a call from downstairs brought reality crashing back in “Dinner’s ready, kids! Come down!”

Jaemin's movements halted mid thrust, his eyes flashing with a mixture of surprise and panic, mirroring the same emotions that played across your face. You gave his arm a quick slap, the unspoken message in your eyes was clear: pull out, now. Yet, your body had other plans, clenching involuntarily around him as if begging for more, and he shut his eyes tight. You felt way too good to stop now.

“We’ll be right down!” He yelled, and instead of pulling out he picked you up, and switched positions. He knew riding him would make you come fast.

From his seated position, he looked up at you through his long lashes, a silent plea in his gaze. It didn't take much for your resolve to crumble. Your hands settled on his shoulders, grasping onto the firm sinews of his muscles as he wrapped his arms around you. As soon as you started moving, you saw him slowly lose his composure. This angle made each thrust reach deeper within you, “How the fuck do you… feel so good, hm-.... every time,” your eyes fluttered open and you caught a glimpse of the tension etching his brow and the way his teeth clamped onto his lower lip. He was getting closer to his limit, just as much as you were.

“You’re gonna be the end of me,” you breathe out, fingers tracing along his cheek. All he can manage is a throaty moan, too lost in the sensation of being this deep inside you to form coherent words.

“I’m-…I’m close”” he whimpered, half lidded eyes locking onto yours. Your rhythm starts to stumble a bit, your pace getting uneven as you get close to your orgasm too. He caught onto this quickly grabbing your hips to guide your moves, and every time your hips met, the sounds resonated through the whole room.

A couple more thrusts, and you're there– caught in the riptide of an orgasm that slams into you so hard that tears gather at the corners of your eyes. Jaemin's not far behind, a few more sloppy thrusts and he's right there with you. The feeling of his cum filling you and your walls clenching around as he emptied himself inside you, it was a sticky mess, but he fucking loved it.

“C’mon, let’s not make your mom wait.” He said after catching his breath, giving your hips a slight pat.

“Jaemin… I swear if they heard…” 

“Yeah, yeah… You know they love me too much to think I would ever soil their pretty daughter like that.” He winked and kissed you one more time.

ps: feel free to request more!

[mellowsaturns]

in losing grip, on sinking ships (you showed up just in time)

BUCKY BARNES X FEM!READER

summary: when the avengers pick up unusual activity, they realize that not all of hydra was destroyed. one unidentifiable face sends the team into a frenzy but bucky knows it. he could recognize those eyes anywhere.

warnings: heavy angst, one sided enemies-to-lovers-ish, hydra!assassin!reader, hurt/comfort, happy ending, brainwashing, trauma, guns & knives, fighting, implied kidnapping of reader when young, all the feels, misunderstandings, poor attempt at writing action

wc: 4.7k

a/n: sorry it’s been forever but i hope my fellow buckyluvrs are still here <3 i actually wrote this a long time ago but never got around to editing until recently so i guess you can say this is (from the vault) ? inspired by the idea: what-if there was another winter soldier and bucky finds himself in steve’s position this time trying to get you back to him. anyways, i hope you enjoy this one :)

Bucky’s life was a never ending montage of gunfire and bloodshed. It didn’t matter if he was under the clutches of someone else, he still lived through the wars—the lingering smell of smoke and tang of metallic forever ingrained in his senses.

And just when he thought it was finally over—a glimmer of peace at last—it comes and steals that dream away from him.

Like deja-vu, he’s looking at faces that were once responsible for his pain.

On the screen, three Hydra officers stare back at him. All faces identified by Tony’s system. Alive. Last seen in the outskirts of some small country in Europe. Irrelevant low ranking officials that had managed to survive the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D and have been hiding and secretly continuing Hydra’s mission underground ever since. Low officials or not, it was one too many.

Bucky freezes in his spot when Tony swipes the screen. The billionaire goes on a rant saying this particular face cannot be identified, which was according to Tony, bullshit because his face recognition system is the best in the world. The rest of the team is arguing and flipping through countless files and internet archives. But Bucky knows. He knows that face and those haunting eyes that he still sees in his dreams.

“Buck,” a voice calls out. “You know her, don’t you?”

He looks up at Steve from his spot, his best friend's face worried and all knowing.

One thing about Hydra was that they were always prepared. They had backups and multiple plans ready, or else how would two heads take its place when one was cut off? Unfortunately for the world, Hydra managed to make another deadly assassin, one whose work was so discreet and nimble that even intelligence didn't know they existed.

You were a ghost story that lived in the shadows of the Winter Soldier. You were another one of Hydra’s prize possessions—less known, but just as deadly.

With Steve’s comment, all eyes are now on Bucky. A pregnant pause fills the air and he gulps before he confesses, “I wasn’t the only one.”

The room becomes tense. The war that they thought was over suddenly looms over like an unpredicted oncoming storm. “Jesus Christ, Barnes. You couldn’t have informed us about her earlier?” says Tony.

“I thought,” he says, shifting his eyes onto the ground, “I thought she fell with S.H.I.E.L.D.”

Bucky couldn’t find you anywhere after he escaped their grasp. After he joined the Avengers, he tried once again secretly using Tony’s technology but it was to no avail—it always ended up being a dead end. And for that, he assumed Hydra had put you out of your misery the day they were caught.

But the face on the screen says otherwise. And suddenly, Bucky feels very guilty.

Steve clears his throat, “Well, they were picked up not too long ago heading north. If we leave now, we might be able to find them and stop them once and for all.”

Everyone looks at each other, debating on his proposal. “What the Captain said. Everybody, suit up. Quinjet leaves in ten,” says Tony.

On the jet, Bucky stares off into space but countless questions run through his mind.

Steve walks over and sits beside him. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asks, voice quiet.

Bucky sighs, “I just… I thought she was gone.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault. You didn’t know.”

He looks up, wondering if he should tell Steve the truth. That he’s not brooding about the fact that he concealed you to them. After a moment, Bucky speaks up. “When we get there, let me handle her. Please.”

Steve didn’t know what kind of history Bucky had with you. But judging from the look his best-friend is giving, it’s more than what Steve could understand or even comprehend but he trusts Bucky and so, he gives him a nod. “She’s all yours.”

After scouting the area and tracing the location to a very hidden underground warehouse in the middle of nowhere, they split up. The warehouse was dark and dusty, surely abandoned, but Bucky knew better—it was their facade behind the most sinister of activities. Through the comms, Natasha announces that she has already taken care of all the troops in the West wing. Moments later, Sam reports that he has eliminated one of the Hydra officers. They wouldn’t last long. Hydra didn’t have much resources or time to rebuild—their current empire was weak, they were no match for the Avengers this time.

The only person Bucky’s truly worried about is you. The fact that he trained you, made you into what you were today already gave him the chills. He’s not the Winter Soldier anymore, but he was certain that you were still in that killer mindset that Hydra forced upon you.

Step by step, Bucky walks through the quiet hallway, the echoes of his footsteps the only noise. It’s cold here, he notices, which gives him flashbacks to those days in his dirty cell and the cryostasis chamber. Down a hallway to the next, round a corner and another, there wasn’t a single soul in the eerily Eastern wing.

But he spoke too soon, because seconds later, a garrote wire was around his neck. The swift invisible steps and the perfect pressure that was being used to quickly cut off his air supply was all too familiar. He knows this move, he taught this move. You’re here, and you’re dragging him backwards.

Before all oxygen gets cut off to his brain, he jabs his elbow backwards and hits you hard on the rib which releases the hold you have on him and sends you stumbling back. Bucky takes a moment to regain his breath but you’re on your feet again. He looks at you and for a moment he freezes, then you let out a sinister grin. “Nice to see you again, Soldat,” you taunt, before running towards him.

Bucky’s deflecting your punches one after another. Maybe he’s glad he was the one who taught you everything you know because your moves were predictable—if it were another person, there is no doubt they would’ve been on the ground with multiple concussions bleeding out already. You’re ruthless when you do a triple roundhouse kick on him. On the fourth one, he manages to catch your leg and twists it, sending you to the ground with a groan.

How familiar this scene was, Bucky thinks.

Some forty-years ago, Hydra brought a woman into the training room. There was no further instruction than to train you and that’s what he did. He could tell you were well trained already—compliant and pliable. You were good. And you were just like him, injected with a serum that made you a hundred times more efficient and stronger. In just under a year, Hydra would start sending you on missions. Sometimes with him, sometimes alone.

During training, the both of you would spar for hours, leaving each other bloody and bruised, but it didn’t matter to the overlookers, the both of you would heal in a few hours anyways.

Once you pick yourself back up, he pulls a gun out on you. “Stop this,” he commands.

You smirk, “You going to shoot me, Soldat? I want to see you try.”

He clenches his jaw. You continue to look at him, a dark look on your face that shows no sign of true recognition.

His thoughts are disrupted when you tackle him onto the ground. You kick his gun away and pin his arms down as you straddle him. “I’m going to kill you,” you declare, “I’m going to put a bullet through your head.”

When he looks up at you, your eyes are full of rage. Bucky doesn’t know whether that’s the brainwashed version of you talking or the actual you talking—maybe both.

“What are you going to do after you kill me?” he says, irritated. C’mon, please recognize me. “This is all that remains of Hydra. Half the troops are already dead. One of your new leaders is dead. In a few hours, Hydra will be no more. What will you do after that? What are you going to do after you kill me?”

“What does it matter? You’re my mission. I’m going to finish it.”

He groans at your stubbornness that was identical to his Soldier persona.

He says your name slowly. “Get off. You can walk away from this.”

You frown, but he continues, “I know how you feel. You’re feeling helpless.” He clears his throat, “There’s someone behind this version of you. I want to talk to her.”

“What are you talking about?” you utter in annoyance. “Stop stalling.”

He says that name again, with calamity and care. You want to rip out his tongue.

“Let me talk to her. Please.”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about!” you shout, grabbing for the gun that’s strapped onto your waist. “Stop talkin–”

“I was in the cell next to yours. You liked the colour green. You were wearing white when we first met. You always wanted to visit Bucharest. You hated the leaky cold showers in the Siberian facility,” he rambles, trying to remember every single thing about you in a desperate attempt to get your attention so this version of you won’t shoot him in the face.

And for a moment, it works because your hand freezes on the grip of your gun. He takes that moment to flip you over, so you’re under him now, hands pinned above your head. He takes your gun and throws it behind him.

You snarl at him while trying to escape his grasp. “I know you’re under there,” he says. “Please, come through. Please talk to me.”

Your face scrunches in pain, not from him—he would never hurt you—but from the mental warfare that’s currently going on in your mind. You close your eyes as he speaks again. “Listen to my voice, you know me, don’t you? мой милая.”

My darling.

For a moment, your entire body tenses up and then you let out a painful breath. When your eyelids start to flutter open, he finally sees the eyes he came to know and rely on—eyes he came to love.

The both of you are looking at each other unblinking. A scene neither of you expected but always dreamt about.

You break the silence with a whisper of, “James?”

Bucky slowly nods at your disbelief. Finally, he thinks. But such respite doesn’t last long, because seconds later, you hook your foot under his and flip him over and escape his grasp.

There's darkness in your eyes and he can tell that the Soldate is back and the fighting resumes.

You’re chasing him down the twisting hallway and when you catch up, you grab his shoulder and throw a punch to his jaw. He stumbles back and then a voice comes through the comms.

“Just took down the second one.” Steve. “Bucky, how are you holding up? You’ve been quiet ever since we split up.”

He’s trying his best to block your hand, which now has a damn pocket knife. Your quick movements are starting to tire him out. Maybe he taught you too well, he thinks.

“Buck? Bucky. Confirm your status, right now.”

Groaning in frustration, he taps his earpiece. “I’m fine,” he grunts. A second later, “Shit!” he huffs out as you nearly slice his face.

“You don’t sound fine. Is she with you? I’m sending back up.”

“No!” he says, “Don’t send anyone. I can handle her.”

In truth, he’s struggling right now—your stamina has always been better than his—but he’s worried that you’re going to accidentally get hurt and even more agitated when people appear. His main priority was keeping you safe. Fuck the mission statement they talked about back on the Quinjet.

You’re angry—no, you’re extremely angry at him. It doesn’t take a genius to tell. It’s a mixture of pure rage from both the brainwashed and actual you.

He supposed he deserved it. You should be angry. Because for the longest time, it was you and him.

Other than turning you into a ruthless assassin just like him, an unexpected companionship also formed during those hazy in-between moments when the two of you weren’t frozen or on the metal chair getting fried by those machines—during the times when he was just Bucky and you were just you, two unfortunate innocent souls that shared the same suffering.

They weren’t pleasant moments. It was dehumanising. It was getting shoved into draughty cells with nothing but a blanket until it was time to train or time to embark on a mission. Luckily, your cells were next to each other and it made the endless nights a little more bearable. He was a little off-putting at first, but when he yelled at you to stop crying because they would torture you even more for it, you knew he meant well.

During your shared time together, glimpses of your true selves would seldom come up and you would tell each other about the little bits and pieces of a life once known. And the both of you would hold onto each other's memories and stories in case the other forgets.

And whenever they prep the two of you for the chamber due to there being no current missions for the time being, the two of you would look at each other—a look of longing with the secret squeezing of each other's hand before going under.

Despite the absolute awful situation the two of you were in at the time, the both of you were hopeful for the next shared moments together. Because even when all hope was gone, you had each other. And that was good enough for the two of you.

He misses you. So damn much.

“Shut up,” you mutter.

He didn’t even realise he said it outloud. “Well, I do,” he admits, his back hitting a wall.

“You talk too much, Soldat,” you say, creeping up on him. “I ought to cut your throat.”

“I’m sorry I left you with them.”

You halt in your steps and your jaw ticks. In a second, you pounce on him, your knife against his throat. He’s gripping your hand to stop you from continuing your job.

He says your name again. You’re pushing but he’s pushing back just as hard. “I’m sorry…” he repeats, “I’m so sorry.”

The desperation in his voice… You glance up at him slowly and he sees the pink forming in your eyes and your trembling lips. “What are you doing? What are you doing to me?” you whisper.

He sees the internal war behind your eyes once again. Bucky gulps for a moment before letting go of your hand, trusting that you won’t do any actual harm, and moves his hands so he’s cupping your face, firm enough so you’re forced to look at him. You look into his eyes for a second, then a minute, and for a moment, everything stops. Your breath hitches, because those eyes… those arctic blues… you know them. You fell in love with them many years ago.

A realisation washes over your face, one that Bucky doesn’t miss. You’re back.

The first tear falls. Then the second. “Bucky.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” he whispers.

You let out a small cry before you press the blade harder against his neck, your grip a vice from his betrayal. He could feel the sharp cold metal pierce through his skin ever so slightly, but he doesn’t try and stop you.

“Give me a reason to not kill you right now,” you grit through tears. “You left me. You left me behind to rot alone. You promised me. You fucking promised,” you say, voice laced with venom and so much hurt.

Bucky’s heart breaks at the sadness of your voice. Because he did promise. There wasn’t much to do in the cells other than throw around false hope. But whenever he told you he was going to escape one day and that he was going to take you with him—it didn’t feel like false promises at all because it wasn’t, and you knew it too.

Until he broke that promise and left you all alone.

“I didn’t mean to,” he says, voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to leave you there with them.”

“I waited for you,” you cry. “Day and night I waited for you to come back. Even when they relocated, I waited for you because I knew you’d find me.”

You remember that day clearly. Everyone was in a frenzy when the death of Alexander Pierce broke out and that they could not locate the Soldat. For a moment, you could taste your own freedom because government officials would come anytime now and finally arrest all these criminals. But right when they came, a few Hydra officers managed to escape and took you with them, and when you woke up, you didn’t know where the hell you were. But even then you didn’t lose hope because James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, the name you committed to memory, was going to come for you just like he promised.

Until days, months, and eventually, a year came with no sign of him.

You were angry at first, but it slowly turned into worry because what if something bad had happened to him? But what do you know? You were stuck in this building and only went out whenever they spoke those trigger words to you. And you were always under their watchful eyes, giving you no chance to even attempt an escape. Surely he would never break his promise to you so something must’ve happened to him, you told yourself multiple times.

But he was standing here right in front of you. Alive. We’re under attack, your handler said to you moments ago, Kill the Soldat before he kills you.

“You’re a liar. You never cared about me,” you hiss.

Sometimes, it got too much. But whenever reality was a bit too hard to endure, Bucky was there, always reaching his hand out to you through the metal cage, which you took and held tight. And it meant the world to you, that someone cared.

“All those moments, did it even mean anything to you?”

He uses this opportunity to pull your arms down slightly, knife finally away from his neck and his eyes start to sting from his own tears. “They meant everything to me. I care about you.”

You look up at him with a defeated expression and Bucky never wanted to punch himself in the face more. “Then why? Why didn’t you come back for me?”

“I did,” he chokes out. “When I escaped, the first thing I did was go back for you, but the facility had already been raided and there was no one there. I checked every inch of the building.”

Bucky had never felt so scared, because what if the government took you too? They would never understand—framing you as a villain even though that was far from the truth. But there was no news of your capture, so with a breath of relief, Bucky continued to look through other known Hydra facilities.

“I tried my best looking for you, but I also had to be careful because I was a wanted man at the time. When months passed by and there were no clues, I thought that maybe you had escaped. I was in Bucharest waiting for you. Remember how you said you always wanted to go there? I knew that if you escaped, you’d find me there. Even when you didn’t show, I never gave up. Steve… I think I told you about him once—he found me, he helped me and cleared my name. After that, I still searched for you but it all ended up being dead ends. And…” he pauses for a moment, “and so I thought you were dead. I should’ve tried harder. I’m sorry.”

He had mourned you and blamed himself endlessly for it.

He knows he should’ve asked for help, but instead, he took this task upon himself until it got too much—because that was the one thing he struggled with the most, asking for help.

When his side of the story finally comes to light, you break into a sob. “I don’t expect you to forgive me,” he says, “but please, drop the weapon and let me help you.”

You swallow hard at his confession. He never stopped looking for you. You didn’t even consider how hard it must’ve been for him after everything and yet you’re lashing out on him.

“How are you going to help me?” you say. “I’m a mess. All you have to do is say those words and I turn into a weapon.”

Twelve. Ember. Fragment. Nine. Academy. Order. Frigid. Yearning. Blue.

Those were your trigger words.

“I got you out of your trance, didn’t I?” he says with a gentle smile.

Hydra needed you to rebuild their empire and they relied on those nine words to do so. To them, those nine words were your greatest weakness but one of them, the last one, the one they liked to spit out in vexation, was also your greatest strength—your salvation.

Blue.

You think back, moments prior, when all he had to do was use his voice and all you had to do was look into the blues of his eyes. Hydra can repeat those words all they want, but Bucky would always be able to bring you back.

At that, your grip relaxes and the knife finally drops onto the floor, it’s noise ricocheting off the walls.

“There’s a place called Wakanda and I know someone there who can help you. Her name’s Ayo and she’s amazing. She helped me overcome my words.”

He brings his hands back up to cradle your face and you shutter at the familiar touch—at the calluses on his palms. “And I think you’ll like it there. It’s quiet and there’s so much… green.”

You let out a small laugh through your tears but doubt still fills your mind. “But… all the things I did,” you whimper, “I did such terrible unforgivable things. There’s… there’s so much blood on my hands.”

Sadness flares around his heart. It was all so familiar. He knows the feeling.

“It’s not going to be easy. God knows how long it took for me to believe that none of it was my fault. But let me be the first one to tell you,” he says, wiping your tears away with his thumb. “None of what you did was your fault. You were a victim.” He swallows a deep breath, “There are going to be days where it’ll be too much too bear and there are going to be nights where all those casualties will haunt you,” he admits. “But… but you’ll get there. Someday, you’ll learn to stop punishing yourself for something you didn’t do.”

And he vows that he’ll help you every step of the way.

You breathe out slowly, digesting all his words. “You can trust me,” he tells you, “I won’t let you down this time. I’ll be here.”

Blinking up at him, the small hesitant part of you so desperately wanted to say, “How can I trust you?” but his eyes were telling you everything you needed to know. Because it was filled with nothing but honour and truth.

He breaks away from you and reaches out his hand. An invitation. You stare at it for a while, then you slowly lift yours and brush your fingers amongst his before grabbing it tightly—a truce of sorts, a promise. He squeezes back in return, a loving smile on his face, just like all those nights many moonlights ago.

Your breath hitches when he pulls you into his embrace, your face burying perfectly into the valley of his chest. He wraps his arms around you in urgency, in fear, almost afraid you’ll slip out if he doesn’t.

“It’s over,” he mumbles into your hair.

Because two floors down an explosion erupts, finishing off the last remaining garrison of troops. Three hallways down, Natasha sets fire to a room that contained the other small red leather book that held those nine suffocating words written in Russian. Outside, the last Hydra officer attempting to flee falls to his knees from an arrow to the chest. And the only hope they had left to rebuild their regime was safely in Bucky’s arms.

He pulls away and uses his thumb to rub gently across your cheek, “It’s over. The war is finally over.”

Now that the worst is over, Bucky’s hopeful. There will be other conflicts to come, that was just how it worked, but this one, the one that held you and him underwater for years was finally over. War always took too much, but this time, it gave something back. Because among the ashes and ruins you came back to him, no more oceans in between.

“What do we do now?” you press nervously. You were taken at a young age and spent years in the Red Room before you were sold off to Hydra. Like Bucky, you’re in the wrong time period, there’s no one to go back to.

There’s so many things you could do, Bucky thinks. You can finally start living the life you deserved, the life that was taken from you too early. He’ll have to explain all this to his teammates but he knows they’ll understand. They treated him so well, there’s no doubt they’ll show the same kindness for you. Then, he’ll go with you to Wakanda, get rid of the words, maybe stay there for a while so you could heal—maybe show you the goats he took care of during his time there.

You’ll probably adjust to the 21st century better than him—you won’t need to start off with a flip phone, that’s for sure. He’ll make you listen to all the great records and watch all the movies you missed out on. There’s so many things he wanted to do with you. He knows you have no memories, no recollection. It didn’t matter, Bucky thinks, he would make new memories with you, ones worth cherishing and remembering. If you’ll have him, of course.

But first and most importantly, “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay? Then we can talk about it,” he says, rubbing the grime off your nose.

He grabs your hand and heads for the exit. But before he does, you pick up your knife from the floor and in one quick motion, you spin around and throw it. The knife embeds itself into the wall a few metres away, right next to a prying face. You stand in front of Bucky and stare at the intruder with a murderous gaze and Bucky’s heart races at the thought of you still wanting to protect him after everything.

The blond raises his arms up in surrender.

“Steve,” Bucky says from behind and you briefly recognize that name. You turn around to look at him and he meets your eyes, nodding. You relax your stance.

“Hi,” Steve says, voice slightly hoarse. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”

Bucky scoffs at him, as if he wasn’t eavesdropping the whole time.

Steve looks at the both of you, then a gentle smile adorns his face. “C’mon, the rest are waiting outside for you both.”

You step forward. This is it. Freedom. A new life. Bucky notices your hesitation as you suddenly stop in your tracks. Intertwining his fingers with yours, he squeezes with reassurance. You take a deep breath, then the two of you follow Steve to the exit, leaving behind the smoke and memories of your old life.

Outside, the sun comes up slowly but surely on the horizon, painting the awakening sky a gentle warm hue of oranges and pinks.

A new beginning awaits.

[varyajc]

UNHEALTHY BEHAVIORS(?) THE HASHIRA HAVE

Pillars x GN!Reader

a/n; Friendly reminder that this is how I view them. None of the things below are canon or hating on their character. I’d also like to add; I don’t know what to make the title, so I’m making it unhealthy behaviors. Some may be healthy, some may not, so ignore the title and enjoy these headcanons (?)

warnings; unintentional gaslight / intentional gaslighting, toxic behaviors / habits, angst(ish), toxic relationships(?)

bold words = unhealthy behaviors

GIYU TOMIOKA

~He has extreme depression episodes to the point he doesn’t want to see you, in order to prevent you from getting hurt.

Tomioka loves you, he really does. However, in order to prevent him from hurting your feelings (or hurting you in general) he distances himself whenever things get slightly bad. He thinks he’s a disease and doesn’t want to affect you in away way, so he does it in the worst way possible; not talking with you.

~He ghosts you unintentionally

This is similar to the first one, however, he does it whenever he’s feeling better, but still feels guilty for not interacting with you. He doesn’t speak with you, avoids you like the plague, sometimes doesn’t attend Hashira meetings in order to avoid you. After a few months, he goes back to you like nothing had happened. This ended up the relationship forming between the two of you to die out.

SHINOBU KOCHO

~She’s really rude to you for no “apparent” reason.

When the two of you started your relationship, you knew she masks her hostility with a soft smile. She didn’t feel the need to mask her true self around you. However, she can be rude to you for no reason or that something is bothering her. Sure, she’s a mature person, but even mature people can be petty. She doesn’t tell you what’s wrong and even sometimes blames it on you.

~She doesn’t take your concerns seriously.

This applies to her consuming poison. You worry for her health, obviously voicing your concerns. However, she brushes it off like it’s nothing. You guys had numerous arguments because of this subject.

KYOJURO RENGOKU

~He’s too pushy

Whenever you need comfort, he tends to give advice that would more likely help his situation rather than your own. He doesn’t understand why you won’t take it, he tends to get upset because you don’t ’trust him.’

~Too positive

He always tries to find the bright-side of the situation. For example: whenever somebody you’re close with passes or gets severely injured, he always tries to find positive energy of the situation. Which, understandably, makes you upset. He doesn’t mean it, yet he can’t help it in a way?

TENGEN UZUI

~He gets upset when things don’t go his way

Now, I’m not saying this man is a child, but I do sometimes see him getting upset over things that aren’t important. Like, choosing where the five of you get to eat, who’s choosing the dress, etc. He just finds it somewhat degrading..in a way. Like, he’s the man, of course he should have the final say in everything. (Sarcasm)

~His mood determines everybody’s moods

Whenever he’s angry, everybody else’s mood is suddenly down. The air is extremely palpable.

MITSURI KANROJI

~Overthinks, a lot. This sweet angel, known as Mitsuri, tends to overthink a lot. She knows you’ll never cheat on her or betray her in anyway, but she still can’t help that you have eyes for somebody else or wants to pursue someone else. You have reassured her many times that your eyes are on her and her only, but she still has doubts and it just won’t go away. She wants it to go away, but it simply can’t. These doubts in her mind made her somewhat self-conscious.

~Unintentionally guilt-trips you.

Mitsuri tends not to watch her wording or how it’s phrased, so she’ll often say things like, “I’m sorry, I’m such a screw-up, I ruin everything.” However, I don’t think she’ll word it like that, but it’s something along those lines. She doesn’t mean too, but it just slips out, like word vomit.

OBANAI IGURO

~Is extremely controlling, jealous, and manipulative + it’s all intentional

This man right here, knows you better than anybody else, he KNOWS how to get into your head and make you rethink everything. “You’re crazy, I never said that!” Or something along those lines. He always twists things into thinking you did something wrong instead of him.

~He twists your words often

Despite Obanai’s tough demeanor, he actually takes everything bad you say about him to heart. He often uses it against you or make it sound worse than it already is.

SANEMI SHINAZUGAWA

~Extremely possessive

Unlike Obanai, this man knows you can’t and won’t find somebody better than him. However, he still likes to claim his territory? I guess you can say. Whenever you’re out and about with friends, he’s calling you like something happened, and when you rush over to his side, he always repeats “Oh, I just wanted to spend some time with you, baby.”

~He can’t open up

Sanemi is NEVER willing to open up to you, no matter how much you try to persuade him. He pushes you away, and, sometimes, yells at you for trying to persuade him. He doesn’t mean it, I think, however, he finds it offensive that he needs to open up.

a/n; UGH. I didn’t do Muichiro + Gyomei because this an an 18+ reader and I dunno how to write for Gyomei..so. Yh! Anyways, I hope you enjoy.

@varya-jc — DO NOT TRANSLATE, REPOST, OR CLAIM MY CONTENT AS YOUR OWN! YOU WILL GET BLOCKED AND REPORTED. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Vanity

Aemond uncorks his bottled frustrations. You listen whilst combing his hair.

Aemond Targaryen x Reader | 700< | cw: implied targ sibs, implied marriage, gender neutral!reader, whiny!aemond, hurt/comfort-ish, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: my birthday gift for @pendragora 🫶🫶🫶 HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY LOVE I HOPE YOU LIKE IT

Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @delicious-xx @deniixlovezelda

@risefallrise @slavyanskiyahui @thebullship @sa3losa @lxdyred

I groan and lift my head from my pillow. I squint at the darkness, reaching out for the lamp on the bedside.

"Go back to sleep."

"Aemond?" my voice croaks. I slowly sit up and light my lamp. From across the room, I see a long haired man changing out of his riding gear.

I hum and lean on the headboard, "how was it?"

He chucks his boots off with more force than necessary. He repeats, colder, "go back to sleep."

Needless to say I'm wide awake.

I huff and push my blanket off me. I stand and whimper at the feel of the cold floor on my bare feet. I pass looking for my slippers and simply walk towards Aemond.

He spots me by the time he's removed his tunic. He pinches the bridge of his nose and chastises me in High Valyrian.

I ignore him, and once I'm close enough, I grab his hips. I pull him towards me and undo his breeches, "and when have I ever listened to you?"

He watches as I unlace his ties. I get him pants and a shirt from his drawer, handing them to him. He begins to change. Just before I can ask him what's wrong, he tells me himself, "mother has ordered me not to join uncle in his travel."

I hum and cross my arms.

Aemond's shirt collar hangs by his shoulder. He secures his pants and scoffs, "it's not as though I was who made those plans."

"And well made plans they were, my love," I adjust his loose fitting shirt, "Lord Hightower will benefit greatly from it."

"Yes, I can-"

I push him towards the vanity.

He sits on the chair, "-only hope-"

I light the candles on the vanity.

"-the great Ser Gwayne Hightower will make good use of it."

I press my lips as I walk behind him.

He grabs the comb on the vanity top and hands it to me.

I take it from him, stroking his hair once before combing it.

Aemond crosses his arms, "mother thinks me a helpless boy with one eye."

I tilt my head and section his hair.

Aemond stares at me through the mirror. His face twists at the lack of response. He tightens his arms around himself and I finally catch the expression on his face.

I flatten my lips before kissing the crown of his head. I remove his eye patch and place it on the table. He looks at me with expectation. I clutch his cheek and comb his hair away from his face, "you know that's not true, Aemond."

He turns back to the mirror. He purses his lips and slumps on his seat.

"Has the queen ever decided on anything without reason?"

"She's afraid," he dismisses.

I knit my brows and comb my fingers through his silky hair before using the brush.

"She's afraid of Daemon."

I tuck his hair behind his ear.

"She should know not to show it." He looks up at me, "I am not. Him and his ride are no match for Vhagar and I."

I rest my hands on his shoulder momentarily.

"He would do well not to face me."

I circle behind his chair and continue brushing his tresses, "he would."

He straightens up and rests his hands on his lap, "Caraxes is no match for Vhagar. She is nearly twice the wyrm's size, and has seen the fires of the Conquest."

"Indeed, my love," I part his hair, placing the ones I've gone over to his chest.

He tilts his head, "a wise warrior would know when to pick his battles."

"A wise warrior would know when to pick his battles."

By the time I was finished with his hair, he too was finished and was no longer as tightly wound as when he'd arrived. I place the comb back on the vanity and he stands.

I look him once over with a soft smile. I swipe his chin with my thumb, "pretty."

He brings an arm around me, pulling me in to kiss my temple.

I press my hands on his chest and urge him back, "off to bed with you then. I'm exhausted."

"Mmm," he leans down and kisses my neck. He mutters in High Valyrian, "when have I ever listened to you?"

[ohbueckers]

HEART OF A WOMAN. watch me going out of the way, when i should’ve went home, only time of the day i get to spend on my own.

02, CHAPTER TWO. IF I CALL, YOU GON’ ANSWER?

ju speaks. hey again… this is a long one-ish. two chapters in two days who am i? after this, the next will take me a few (?) but i wanna have something out for what’s my name or tcptg in the meantime! pairing. wnba!paige bueckers x fem!oc. warnings. same old + sexual content-ish.

flashback, april 2019.

the streetlights give me away as i pull up to her driveway, cutting the engine just before i reach her house so i don’t wake her dad. since getting my license (bad call, honestly) we do this more than twice a week. i lean back in the seat, my fingers tapping the steering wheel, waiting for that porch light to blink twice—her signal that she’s sneaking out the door.

and there it is. two quick flashes, and she slips outside, her hoodie pulled up, backpack slung over one shoulder. even in the low light, i can see her outstretched grin as she spots me. i can’t help but grin back.

nailea opens the passenger door, sliding in quietly but still managing to make a mess of everything, her bag knocking into my elbow. “my bad,” she whispers, but she’s laughing, already reaching over to shove the old takeout containers from our drives last week.

she throws me a look as she buckles up, and i’m already bursting into a smile. “paige-freakin’-bueckers, a husky,” she says, smacking my arm repeatedly, grinning like a proud mom. “uconn better know how lucky they are.”

i laugh, shaking my head as i pull out of her driveway. “they better,” i say, smirking, but my heart’s racing just hearing her say it. i committed just today, and she’s the only person who could make this feel more real for me. “took ‘em long enough to get me.”

“you’re gonna be big, p.” she says, leaning back and crossing her arms over her chest, sighing out. “even bigger than now.”

i grip the steering wheel a little tighter, keeping my eyes on the road, but the way she says it—like she’s already seeing me at the top, like she’s imagining everything that comes next—makes it hard to keep my focus. nai has this way of believing in me that feels so solid, so certain. i don’t think anyone else could ever see me the way she does.

“i wish you were coming with me,” i say quietly, almost more to myself.

she glances over at me, her expression softening in a way that almost hurts. “you know i’d be there if it was up to me.” but it wasn’t up to her, her dad was set on red and gold, and i get it. it isn’t just about family legacy, it truly is the best fit for her. her major, her future… and i wish i could fight on that, but i can’t.

i nod, swallowing, but it doesn’t make the feeling go away. i hate it—knowing she won’t be there, knowing i’ll be at uconn, and she’ll be halfway across the country. nai’s smart, she could’ve got a whole scholarship there if she applied, but it wasn’t meant to happen apparently.

“usc’s a top school, nai. you’re lucky. and we play each other a couple times a year, at least,” i add, like i’m convincing myself as much as her. i shoot her a small smile, but she just looks away, fiddling with the zipper on her backpack.

“doesn’t feel lucky,” she murmurs. “feels like the universe is messing with us or something.”

i lick my lips, letting the silence fall for a moment before i say, “tell me again about the dream,” while glancing over at her, because it never gets old, and i’m sure thinking about, talking about it would lighten the mood.

she shifts a little, giving me a quick look before they shoot back to the highway. “the w? or… something else?”

“the w, of course,” i say with a grin, though i know we’re both thinking about more than just that. we’ve been close since freshman year, figuring ourselves out is one way to put it. finding comfort in each other without ever daring to put a name to it. i’d jump at the opportunity if i had it in me. we’ve never talked about what it all means, the time we spend, the closeness, how it’s more than friends, no doubt, even if we don’t say it out loud.

her head lolls against the seat, hair shriveling up behind her, smiling a little now. “alright, so you’ll be running the league, ‘course, and i’ll be right there—scouting, managing, whatever it takes. you know i know more ball than you do,” she teases, and argue, because it’s true.

i laugh, shaking my head. “you know i always say that ‘cause i mean it.”

she rolls her eyes, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “whatever.”

i shake my head, but I’m grinning, too, like i always am around her. “nah, i’m serious! you know more ball than all the girls, more than the coaches—even coach cos. you just get it.” i’d bet on nai being right there with me in the league one day, if that’s what she wants. i hope that’s what she’s really wants.

i know what i want. i know what i’ve wanted since i saw her for the first time. i want it all with her, i’ll make sure i get it too.

and maybe it’s selfish, but i’ve already made up my mind. i’ll make nailea mind before we graduate.

present day, may 2025.

it’s late, the kind of late where the building feels oddly empty, the silence thick enough that you can hear every creak and hum. the rest of the staff have been gone for hours, and i’m overworking myself, that’s for sure. my laptop’s blue light glows across the desk, and i’m on my last task, trying to shake the fatigue that settled in about an hour ago. it’s funny, in a way; this job was always part of the plan—a step towards something bigger, even if i didn’t know exactly what.

i’m deep in a report, head rested against my hand, eyes blurring a little as i stare at the screen, when i catch a shadow shifting by the door. i glance up, thinking it’s a security guard here to lock up for the night, but then i see who it is. paige.

my heart jumps, like muscle memory, and i immediately try to school my expression, keep it calm. why is she here? she’s got her hands in the pockets of her joggers, shoulders relaxed in that way that makes it look like she belongs anywhere she wants to be. but she doesn’t. not here, not at this hour, and especially not after what happened between us a few nights ago.

she smiles, one of the smug ones that show throughout her entire face, and i barely move, glancing up as she walks closer. “you really have nothing better to do than follow me around?” i raise an eyebrow as she reaches my desk, leaning over it to try and get a peak at my screen, but i shut it, and she settles back.

“the facility’s a little out your way, no?” i question, tilting my head. definitely out her way. cam had rambled a little too much about paige’s apartment, and i was sure of the exact spot by now.

paige shrugs, poking her lip out as she places her lanyard down, clearly getting comfortable. “sum’ like that. what, i can’t come see you now?”

her words make me squint, because she knows we aren’t on those terms, it’s just her way of steering around it—like she’s trying to navigate a minefield without acknowledging the bombs we’ve both set off. i swallow hard. “it’s a little unprofessional, don’t you think?”

“professional?” she scoffs, folding her arms and leaning against the desk. “last i checked, we’re not in a conference room, nai. just two friends catching up.” her head follows my movements as i begin to pack my things up. paige showing up was probably my cue. i’ve been here too long.

“friends?” i echo, the skepticism clear as i quirk a brow. “that’s rich.”

“then labeling me as some typa’ high school buddy is pretty poor,” she retorts, and i have to scarf down any out of pocket reaction i wanted to shoot at her. “guess so,” i reply.

paige’s expression shifts slightly, and there’s a moment of silence before she speaks up again. “can’t we pretend for a minute?”

i stop what i’m doing, sighing out, but i’m right back on it just as quick. i zip up my work back, leaning on my desk in the same way paige is. i don’t think i was ready to look at her, because for a minute, i’m tempted. i miss this. i miss her. the good parts. but i can’t forget. “you mean, like, before you cheated on me?”

the color drains from her face momentarily, like she didn’t expect me to say it so straight-up, and i realize that she’s probably used to me dancing around things, especially when it came to us. but i’m done dancing, done playing like we aren’t adults.

at least i thought i was. you know, it really was easy until i saw her. and i will be seeing her. everywhere.

“look, i—” she starts, but i cut her off.

“i’m not trying to rehash everything, paige. you’re the one who came here.”

she opens her mouth to respond, but no words come out. i can see her processing, the cockiness slipping from her as she shifts her weight back and forth on her feet, almost like she’s searching for the right words.

“i was working out late, too much on my mind,” she finally says, her voice softer. “you need a ride? how you gettin’ home?”

“my car,” i reply.

“liar.” she accuses. “lemme take you.”

i narrow my eyes at her in suspicion. “you’re so aggy. how do you know that?”

paige licks her lips, biting back a smile too. “maya told me you’ont got your car right now.”

i shift uncomfortably, tearing my eyes off of her and beginning to occupy myself, pulling open drawers and pretending to rummage through papers in a futile attempt to look busy. maya. “i didn’t know you and maya talked like that.”

paige shrugs nonchalantly. “she’s aight.”

i swipe my tongue over my bottom lip. “just alright?”

“she’s good,” she says, and for some reason good sounds even worse than alright, but i shouldn’t be prodding. whatever girl paige decides to involve herself with next shouldn’t concern me.

still, the questions slip uncontrollably, mouth moving faster than my fucking brain. “you two getting close?” i look up at her, jerking my head to the side to move a strand of hair out of my face.

paige seems to just love this, and she sizes me up with her eyes all seductively just then before responding. “would that bother you?”

i freeze for a moment, grappling with the unexpected rush of jealousy. why does it matter? why am i still feeling this way? “i just didn’t expect you to be hanging out with her,” i manage to say, and my voice is steady enough to conceal my thoughts. “seems… unexpected.”

“is it? ‘cause i thought we were both free to do whatever we want,” she says, leaning in slightly, her voice dipping low as if she’s letting me in on a secret. “especially since you’ve made it pretty clear how you feel about me.”

my breath falls short, but i hold up a poker face, and for a minute, we’re both just staring. trying to read into everything maybe, but i know i need to say something before i end up kissing her again.

or worse, bent over this office table.

“you’re right,” i say, perching up as i turn my chair away, getting up in a hurry. i stroll around as paige watches me, curiosity piqued, her eyebrows furrowed in that way i find oddly endearing.

i come up right next to her, and she looks down at me as i grab her keys, dangling them in front of her face. “that means you can take me home without trying anything. touching me.”

ubering this late was probably dangerous anyway, right?

the car ride is uncomfortably quiet, save for paige’s music filling her vehicle. it’s weird, i’ve never felt out of place with paige, but i do now, and it has everything to do with what she did. you know, when i found the texts, the pictures, the videos that still make me sick just thinking about it.

i’ve had time to blame myself. time to wonder if maybe i should’ve seen it coming. when we would argue, go on a break that only lasted for so long. i’d get suspicious, overthink, and then act out in ways i knew would set her off and drive her to say and do things she didn’t mean. they say toxicity is a two way street.

our trust was broken the minute distance became part of the equation. i was right about paige blowing up even more in college, but that only made it harder, made me wonder if this is what i signed up for—if i could handle it. there were some things i couldn’t ignore: her teammates’ livestreams, where i’d catch her in the background with some girl who looked a little bit too much like me, or the one time some random uconn student reached out to me about where where she’d been at, who she’d been with. it was like i was on the outside of the greatest inside joke, miles away, slowly losing my grip.

eventually, she pulls up in front of my apartment complex, the engine humming quietly as she shifts the car into park. i’m unbuckling my seatbelt when paige glances over, catching my eye for a moment, and there’s something there—maybe regret, maybe an apology she’ll never actually say. but whatever it is, it’s gone as quickly as it appeared. she clears her throat, her fingers tapping against the steering wheel to the rhythm of the song playing, like she’s trying to break the silence but doesn’t know how.

“you realize it’s been a month, right?” i break, and paige nearly jolts up at my voice, probably surprised it wasn’t something along the lines of, ‘thank you for the ride, bye.’ “like, we’re not together. so maybe this… maybe we just need to keep our distance.”

paige shakes her head, stubborn as always. “you know i ain’t tryna’ do that.”

i feel a knot tightening in my stomach as i brace myself against the door, wishing it would magically swing open and let me escape. “well do you have a better idea?” the last thing i want is to fall back into the old routine, and if setting some type of boundary is what it takes, i’ll do it. “because that kiss at cam’s was a mistake.”

paige chuckles, and i turn to look at her in attempt to figure out what’s so funny. “a mistake,” she repeats, running a hand down her face, but it isn’t a question. “don’t pull that card, nai. you wanted that shit just as bad as i did.”

my frustration rises. “no, i didn’t.” i’m stern, shaking my head and leaning a little more forward, invading her space. “because i knew you’d act like this.”

“act like what?” paige shoots back, her brows knitting together in anger and something else i can’t really place. i don’t really wanna know. “like i give a shit? you’re the one actin’ like i’m the problem here.”

“hello? you are the fucking problem!” i yell, the words spilling out before i can hold them back. i don’t mean it, i know it’s not only her, but that’s what a load of anger will make you say. “you think you can just charm your way back into my life whenever you feel like it, you get off on hurting me.”

paige’s jaw tightens, and for a moment, i see the hurt flicker across her face before she masks it with defiance. “yeah, well you make it easy,” she shoots back, and i’m taken aback, but i don’t show it. “you keep letting me back in, and then you act all surprised when i don’t just walk away.”

“i didn’t let you in,” i mock, squinting my eyes. “i kissed you ‘cause you fuckin’ begged for it,” i roll my eyes, and paige scoffs, head lolling against the seat.

“oh, and that was the only reason? you wanna play it off like it was some pity kiss? you’re full of shit, nai.” she spits, and i feel the emotion as her voice lowers towards the end.

i can’t help it. “literally fuck you, paige.” the words are clear, harsher than intended, and as we come face to face, inches apart, paige grips my jaw tightly, fingers sprawled out against it, head dropping, and i’m forced to stare at the sleekness of her bun. i’m not surprised as i keep my face tight, almost like i’m resisting without actually pulling away.

“you’re so fuckin’ full of it,” she whispers, breath fanning over my ear, and i wish i had the mental strength to push her off of me.

i shiver at her words, my body betraying me, but i refuse to let her see how much her proximity affects me. “don’t act like this is some game. we’re not—”

she cuts me off, fingers digging in just enough to make it sting, and she leans closer, her lips brushing against my cheek as she murmurs, “say you don’t want me then. just one word, baby. that’s it. and i’ll back off for good.”

a part of me would’ve told her to stop if she didn’t add the last two words. something sounded so final about it, so irrevocable final in a way i didn’t like. because another part of me never wanted to let paige bueckers go. that same part loves her with every fiber, no matter how insufferable she can get.

i open my mouth, the word “stop” right there, but it dies on my lips. instead, my breath hitches, my fingers curl into the fabric of her shirt, and before i know it, i’m leaning into her, pressing my mouth to hers.

she lets out a soft, almost relieved sigh as our lips meet, and whatever walls i had built are as good as none as her arms wrap around me, pulling me closer and over the center console. her kisses weren’t slow, she had no interest in savoring anything, but they were hungry. her hand slides further down my neck, gripping just tight enough to make me whimper.

i feel her fingers slip lower, brushing the edge of my waistband, but i grab her hand, holding it firmly as we keep kissing. “aht,” i mumble against her lips, and she groans softly, her frustration evident.

i bring her hand to settle on my thigh, and she squeezes it, pulling me even closer. “really can’t touch you, ma?” she murmurs through the kiss.

i nod, breathless as i pull back and attach my lips to her jawline, pressing and biting until i leave a mark. “said it,” i whisper, fingers spreading over her shoulder as i caress it. “meant it.”

her lips are parted as she takes me in, resists her hands, and my thoughts become dirtier by the second. everything else falls away for a second, but then her previously low eyes light up, flicking over my shoulder, and she screws her eyes shut, an exasperated sigh escaping her. “fuck, nai,” she mutters under her breath, barely audible. “i gotta go.”

i pull back. “go—what?” i scan her face, eyebrows furrowed. “who texted you?”

she hesitates, glancing to her carplay screen, but whatever message had popped up is already gone. she shakes her head, looking back at me, jaw clenched. “listen,” she says, her hand squeezing my thigh one last time, and i think it puts me in a trance. “if i call, you gon’ answer? need you to tell me you will.”

i bite down on my lip, confusion still stretched across my face, and i’m not sure if it’s just a heat of the moment thing, but i nod like it’s the most obvious answer in the world, even when i know i shouldn’t of.

[lizzieolseniskinda]

TOM RIDDLE - soulmates don’t exist PT. 6

SDE MASTERLIST - FEM!reader (POC!reader)

SUMMARY: everything changes for you when snape gives you a certain memory. will you be able to do the task that dumbledore has given you?

WORD COUNT: 4846

GENRE: angst-ish (but not really)

CONTENT WARNING: talks about blood & nightmares (nothing too graphic!)soulmate & time travel au, English is not my first language

NOT proofread

to be added to taglist

As you slipped into your sleep, you found yourself wandering through memories—familiar, cherished memories—it all came flooding back, slipping into your mind like whispers and playing before your eyes like a movie. It was a bright, golden afternoon by the Black Lake at Hogwarts. You could see Ron, Harry and Hermione.

They were sitting on the grass on a picnic blanket you’d brought, laughing over something Ron had said, his face red with barely-contained laughter. Hermione was reading out loud from a book, clearly exasperated but smiling, and Harry was watching them both with that look. A look that he always had when he was at ease, a rare smile.

Harry’s glasses are slipping down his nose as he squints against the sun, his hair as messy as ever. Ron stretched out lazily, one arm propped behind his head as he reaches for a pumpkin pasty with the other.

“It’s so good to see you,” you say softly, the words spilling out before you can stop them. You felt a pang of longing, realizing how much you miss this easy, familiar closeness.

“Oh, you’re stuck with us, don’t worry,” Harry says with a grin, his green eyes bright and reassuring. “We’d never leave you.”

“Absolutely,” Hermione adds, nodding earnestly and closing the book on her lap. “Besides, who else would help us figure out all these mysteries? You’re as much a part of this as we are.”

Ron chuckles, taking a big bite of his pasty. “Not to mention, someone has to be there to keep you two from overthinking everything. Imagine the chaos if it was just the three of us.”

You laugh, feeling a warmth in your chest.

“You know,” you say, glancing at the lake where the water shimmers in the sunlight, “I wish we could stay like this forever. Just… having a picnic, no worries about anything else.”

Hermione reaches over and gives your hand a squeeze. “We’re here, whenever you need us. Even when things get difficult, remember that.”

Harry nods, his expression softening. “Don’t let anything make you doubt that. We’re always with you.”

You felt a rush of warmth and nostalgia hit you, drawn into the comfort of those days you had spent with your friends. You could hear their voices as clear as day. Their laughter mingling with the soft rustle of leaves and the gentle breeze. It felt safe, like nothing could touch or hurt any of you, like the years hadn’t drawn you apart.

But as the warmth of the dream lingers, something shifts. Colours started to fade, darkening the sky. The warmth of the sky dissipating into a cold shadow. The laughter thinned into silence, Hermione’s face contorting in worry as she looked toward the darkening horizon. You reached for your wand, only to find nothing. You looked up towards your friends.

One by one, they started to fade—Ron’s freckles dimming into the darkness, Hermione’s eyes lost the fear as her face became indistinct, until only Harry remains. He’s staring at you, dead in your eyes, his expression haunted, as though he knows something you don’t.

The familiar faces of your friends became twisted, their eyes wide and hollow, black, staring past you, as if you weren’t even there.

“You've never been alone in this.”

You turned your head towards the sound of Harry’s voice from behind you. Suddenly, you’re no longer sitting on the grass. The world around you seemed to shift and distort, like the walls of reality were bending in on themselves.

Instead, found yourself in the Great Hall, but it’s ruined, twisted. Broken. There’s rubble everywhere, and you’re alone with a figure moving slowly through the debris. You look down to find your wand in hand, trembling, but no matter how hard you try to call put, no sound leaves your lips.

The figure points behind you and unwillingly your head turns with the hand, behind you could see them, all of them, your friends—Harry, Ron, Hermione, Luna and the twins. They were standing at a distance, eyes empty and staring straight through you. They look lost, hollow, shadows of who they once were.

A faint dripping sound pulls your attention away from their faces. You glance down and notice a small puddle of blood pooling at Hermione’s feet. Your gaze shifts up to her arm, slick with blood, where something is scrawled in crimson against her arm.

Tears formed in your eyes and you looked away, towards Harry, the hollow in his eyes having a faint green look in his eyes. As soon as you noticed it, it left.

You tried to move toward them, but your feet felt glued to the spot. A wave of helplessness surged through you. The only thing you could do watch as figured emerged from the darkness, out of the walls—hooded, faceless shadows  that closed in around your friends. 

Distant screams echoing as they were dragged away, lost in the darkness.

Your heart pounds painfully, the sense of helplessness crushing you. A chill crawls down your spine, the cold seeping deep into your bones. Your breaths grow shallow, the weight of guilt pressing down like a heavy stone.

And then, in the depth of the moment, the figure approached you—a pair of cold, dark brown, calculating eyes fixed on you, a face shrouded in darkness but recognisable everywhere. Tom.

He’s looking at you, a small, chilling smile playing at his lips. His voice echoes, low and taunting. “They’re all gone because of you,” he said, voice soft yet sharp. “Because you couldn’t change a thing.”

Your breath hitches, and you stagger, trying to escape, to wake up, but his face looms even closer. His presence filled the void with even more darkness, casting shadows that seemed to cling to your skin, creeping up your spine like ice.

“Why are you even here?” his voice echoed, smooth and unfeeling, carrying a weight that felt like judgment. “Do you really think you can change anything?”

You woke up with a start, heart racing and gasping for air, the cold sweat clinging to your skin as the remnants of the nightmare cling to your mind. You sit up, images of twisted faces and dark shadows still burning behind your eyelids.

You sat up, wiping at your face with shaky hands, only to realise they were wet—tears had already started to flow, now completely blurring your vision. You wiped them away with a shaky hand, but they just kept coming, as though all the fear, all the frustration, all the loneliness you’d been bottling up had burst free. 

Looking around the empty dorm room, you realized it was Sunday morning. Your roommates had already left for breakfast, leaving you in a silent room that suddenly felt too big, too cold.

With your chest tightening, you stumbled out of bed, grabbing a sweater and tugging it on over your head, fingers fumbling with the sleeves. You barely took the time to slip on shoes, leaving them unlaced as you hurried out of the dormitory. Your hands wouldn’t stop trembling, and the cold, early-morning stone floors of the castle did little to calm you as you rushed through the corridors, your footsteps echoing in the silence.

Your breath came in shallow gasps as you navigated the winding halls, your mind locked on one single thought: Dumbledore. He had to send you back. you couldn’t take it anymore. 

It wasn’t long before you reached the familiar stretch of hall leading to professor Dumbledore’s office. 

The portraits along the walls watched you as you rushed past, whispering among themselves. You climbed staircase after staircase, fueled by a mixture of fear and anger, until finally you stood in front of the stone gargoyle guarding dumbledore’s office.

“Let me in,” you whispered hoarsely, still crying, your voice cracking. When the gargoyle didn’t move, you let out a strangled yell, slamming your fists against the cold stone. “Let me in! Please!”

As if in response to your desperation, the stone gargoyle slowly shifted aside, revealing the spiral staircase. You scrambled up, each step feeling like it took forever, until finally you burst into his office. He stood up behind his desk, calmly looking over a stack of papers, but he looked up immediately when you stormed in, concern flickering in his eyes.

“Miss Y/L/N,” he said gently, closing the door behind you. “What brings you here so early?”

“Professor,” you choked out, standing in the middle of the room, your body trembling as the flood of emotions poured out, “Send me back. Please, send me back. I don’t want to be here anymore, I… I can’t do this.”

You swallowed, the words coming out in a shaky rush. “I can’t… I can’t stay here. I want to go back. please, I need to go back to my time. I miss my friends, my parents… everyone. i can’t do—” 

The weight of everything came crashing down as you spoke, your voice trembling. “Please, professor, I don’t belong here… I want to go home.” your voice broke, and a sob escaped you. You covered your mouth with one hand, the tears coming faster now, blurring your vision completely.

Dumbledore’s eyes were full of understanding as he stepped closer, guiding you gently to a chair. “Take a seat, my dear,” he murmured, his voice calm and reassuring. “I know this must feel unbearably difficult.”

“No, you don’t understand!” you interrupted, your voice coming out in a broken yell. “I don’t want to sit down! I want to go back!”

“I don’t belong here! every day, every second I’m here, it feels like… like i’m suffocating. I miss my friends, I miss my family, and I can’t…just pretend everything is okay. It’s not fair! You brought me here, and now I’m stuck. I never even had a choice!”

Tears were streaming freely down your face, your fists clenched so tightly your nails dug into your palms. Dumbledore took a step toward you, but you took a step back, shaking your head.

You sank into the chair, wrapping your arms around yourself as you tried to catch your breath, but the tears wouldn’t stop. “It’s too much,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I don’t want to be here anymore. I feel so alone… everything here is different, and I don’t know how long I can pretend I’m alright with it.”

He took a seat beside you, his expression pained but kind. “Your feelings are entirely valid, and your courage to speak up about them is admirable.” he paused, studying your tear-streaked face with that same intense, searching look he often wore. “Being out of one’s own time is a very heavy burden to bear. You have been given a task that no one should be asked to bear alone.”

“Don’t tell me to be brave, don’t tell me this is for some greater purpose!” you shouted, voice breaking. “I don’t care about the greater purpose! I want to go home! I don’t want to be here, living in constant fear, watching every move I make. you don’t understand what it’s like!” 

Your sobs overtook you, racking your whole body as you sank deeper into the chair, wrapping your arms around yourself in an attempt to keep yourself from falling apart. “I miss them so much. Please… please, just send me back.”

Dumbledore was silent for a long moment, watching you with a sadness that only deepened the ache in your chest.

“If I could, child, I would,” he said softly, his voice filled with an unfamiliar heaviness. “But, you know why you’re here. There are things that must be done, paths that must be taken.”

“I do not say this lightly, and I do not expect you to forgive me for the burden I have placed on you. but the future depends on it.”

“I don’t care about the future right now!” you yelled, the anger burning bright through the fear and pain. “I care about now! I care about my life and my friends and my family.”

“Why should I have to give all that up? I didn’t ask for any of this! I lost my life—freedom for you!”

Dumbledore nodded slowly, as if weighing each of your words. “Sometimes, life asks of us sacrifices we would never choose,” he said quietly. “I am deeply sorry for that. But know this—you are not alone, and you do have the strength to face what lies ahead.”

He stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “And strength, my dear, does not mean the absence of pain or fear. Strength is simply the willingness to keep moving forward, even when it feels impossible.”

You stared at the floor, the weight of his words pressing down on you. A part of you wanted to believe him, but another part just felt… tired. bone-deep tired.

“I don’t even know if I-I’m doing it right,” you managed to whisper, your fingers gripping the edge of your sweater tightly. “What if… what if nothing changes? What if Harry still… still dies?” 

“I understand your fears,” he said softly, “But I am here to help guide you. And while I cannot give you a clear answer about the future, I can tell you that your presence here has already changed things, even if it may not be obvious.”

You wanted to believe him, but the doubts gnawed at you. “I feel like I’m losing myself, professor. every day, it feels harder to remember who I am, or who I used to be.”

“Your identity is not lost, even if you feel disconnected from it,” he replied, his voice warm and steady. “It is within you, no matter what time you find yourself in.”

You looked down, sniffling, trying to draw strength from his words. “It’s just… Everyone feels so far away.”

He nodded slowly, his eyes soft with compassion. “You are allowed to feel this way. It is human, after all, to yearn for those we love.”

After a few moments of silence, he added, “If you truly wish to return, I can explore the possibility of sending you back to your time. However, I would ask you to take a little time to think it over first. Sometimes, in the midst of hardship, we cannot see the strength that lies within us until the storm has passed.”

You took a shaky breath, nodding, though the ache in your heart still lingered.

He offered you a reassuring smile. “Whenever you need to speak, my door is always open.”

The gentle waves of the black lake lapped at the shore, the water shimmering under the soft morning light. You sat by the edge, hugging your knees to your chest, staring out across the lake as memories of Harry, hermione, and Ron surfaced, vivid and sharp. The ache in your chest felt endless, like a hollow, sinking weight that refused to leave. 

The spot felt haunted now, a cruel reminder of everything you’d left behind—the laughter, the closeness, the feeling of home that was slipping further from your reach with each passing day. You felt yourself fraying at the edges, unraveling beneath the surface of your forced smiles and brave face.

You barely registered the sound of footsteps approaching until someone sat down beside you. Turning your head, you found Lucas, his usual easygoing grin replaced by a look of gentle concern.

“Hey,” he said softly, nudging you with his elbow. “you look like you've got the weight of the entire library on your shoulders. what's going on?”

You tried to respond, to tell him it was nothing, but the words caught in your throat. The mere kindness in his voice, the familiarity of it, broke something in you. All at once, the tears started to flow, again, hot and unstoppable, and you buried your face in your hands.

Lucas’s arm immediately wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you close. He didn’t say anything, didn’t press you for answers. He just held you there, letting you sob against him, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he murmured, his voice low and comforting. “Cry all you need to. I’ll even throw in a free shoulder to soak.”

You let out a choked laugh through the tears, but the laughter quickly turned back into sobs. You clutched onto him tightly, as if he could anchor you back from the overwhelming tide of pain and loneliness that threatened to swallow you whole.

“I… I’m sorry, I’m a mess today.,” you managed to say between sobs, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I miss my friends so much, Lucas.”

He nodded, squeezing you gently. “I know, I know. That’s got to be the hardest part of all this—being here, away from everyone. But you’re not alone, okay? i’m right here, and i’ll stay here as long as you need me to.”

“Besides, we can always send them letters, they’re only in France.”

You stayed there, clutching onto his warmth, letting his words settle over you like a balm. ‘Only in France’

You swallowed fresh tears. 

After a few moments, he leaned his head closer, his voice soft but with a familiar mischievous edge. “Besides, who else would put up with me if you weren’t here?”

You sniffled, managing a small, wobbly smile. “Probably, like, everyone. you’re everyone’s favorite flirt, Lucas.”

He grinned, and there was a playful glint in his eyes. “Well, that’s true. But nobody gets my best material like you do. I save all the good jokes just for you, y’know?”

You let out a watery laugh, shaking your head. “You’re an idiot.”

“Hey, insults aside, at least I got you to laugh. My work here is almost done.”

You smiled a little, feeling a bit of the heaviness lift, if only for a moment. Lucas’ arm stayed around your shoulders, solid and steady, like a lifeline you hadn’t realized you needed so badly.

“You’ve got a lot on your shoulders,” he said, his voice turning gentle again. “And I know it feels impossible, but you’re stronger than you think, Y/n. and I’ll be here every step of the way, even if you’re too stubborn to ask for help.”

You let out a long, shaky breath, feeling the warmth of his reassurance settle over you. It wasn’t home, it wasn’t Harry, Hermione, or Ron, but Lucas was here, grounding you in a way you hadn’t expected. And for now, it was enough.

“Thank you, Lucas,” you whispered, your voice thick with gratitude. 

He gave you a reassuring squeeze. “Anytime. I mean it. Anytime you need a shoulder to cry on, or someone to charm the socks off the Slytherins just for fun, I’m your guy.”

You laughed again, and this time, it felt genuine. Lucas gave you a smile that was soft and warm, and as you sat by the lake together, you felt, for the first time in a long time, that you might be able to make it through this—one small step at a time.

Lucas nudged you with his shoulder as he reached for a bowl of mashed potatoes. “Alright, Y/n, here’s a question: if you could switch places with anyone in the entire wizarding world right now, who would it be?”

You rolled your eyes, taking a sip of pumpkin juice. “Easy—someone on holiday. preferably somewhere sunny.”

Alicia laughed, tossing a piece of bread at you. “That’s cheating! I thought you’d say someone exciting, like an auror or the minister of magic.”

“Can’t blame her,” Lilith chimed in, grinning. 

“A tropical holiday sounds pretty thrilling after being stuck in potions all morning.” Maeve nodded her head, agreeing.

“You’ve got a point,” Lucas said thoughtfully, grinning at you. “Although, if I could switch with anyone, I’d probably pick Slughorn. Imagine all the secrets he must know, all those weird stories about famous people.”

“And you’d get to throw endless parties for yourself,” Lilith pointed out, a rare smile tugging at her lips. 

Maeve smiled, “it would be the ultimate ego trip.”

Everyone laughed, and Lucas shrugged, clearly not bothered. “Hey, the guy knows how to live. He’s probably got more gossip than all of us combined. Speaking of parties,” he added, raising an eyebrow at you, “Ready for the slug club soirée, miss Riddle’s date?”

You groaned, feeling your cheeks warm as the others turned to look at you with intrigued expressions.

“I still can’t believe he just… declared you his date and walked off,” Alicia said, shaking her head in disbelief. “You didn’t get a single word in?”

“Not one,” you admitted, laughing. “He just looked at me with that infuriatingly smug expression and then left.”

Lucas leaned in, smirking. “And you, Y/n, are seriously going along with it?”

“Well,” you said, rolling your eyes, “I mean, he’s kinda… hot.”

“So… yes, I guess I am.”

Alicia nearly choked on her pumpkin juice, eyes widening. “Hot? He’s terrifying, Y/n! Have you seen the way he just stares at people? It’s like he’s plotting their downfall.”

“Yeah,” Maeve added, shooting you a half-amused, half-bewildered look, “But I get it… he’s got that whole brooding dark lord-in-the-making vibe. Still, I wouldn’t want to be within hexing range.”

You couldn’t help but laugh uneasy, brushing off their reactions. 

Lilith shoved some cauliflower onto her plate, “Oh, come on, sure, he’s intense, but there’s something about him that’s… intriguing.”

Lucas, however, looked horrified. He leaned back, crossing his arms dramatically. “intriguing? No, no, Lili, intriguing is a new flavor of bertie bott’s beans or a strange ingredient in potions. Not Tom Riddle.”

Maeve nodded absentmindedly, “He does look like a good snack.”

Lucas gaped, “Sorry, what is wrong with you?”

Maeve shrugged her shoulders, “Don’t act as if you wouldn’t like a little nibble from him, even though you’re like—into girls and stuff.”

You straightened up, feeling Lucas tense beside you. So, you were the first person to know. Alicia also having noticed this, she rolled her eyes.

“Oh, lighten up, Lucas,” Alicia teased, nudging him. “I think we’re all just a little scared that she’s going to show up to the party in some hypnotic trance, spellbound by his ‘intensity.’”

Lucas rolled his eyes, pretending to be unimpressed, but you could see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Fine, if that’s what you want. But personally, I think he’s the human embodiment of a dark cloud, and I’d rather not be around for the thunderstorm.”

“Oh, don’t be dramatic,” you replied with a grin. “It’s just one night. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Lucas gave you a long, exasperated look but then sighed, shaking his head with a reluctant smile. “I feel like you’ve just jinxed us."

“But, if it makes you happy, I suppose… but just remember, if he starts getting that ‘plotting world domination’ look, I’ll be there with a rescue plan.” 

You grinned, giving him a playful nudge. “I’ll keep an eye out for his ‘dark cloud’ side.”

Maeve leaned forward, her eyes twinkling. “And what are you wearing?”

“I’m glad you asked,” Lucas said proudly before you could respond. “We’re matching.”

The entire group burst into a chorus of excited gasps and laughter, peppering you with questions. Lilith just nodded approvingly.

“Trust Lucas to make sure you two are the best-dressed at the party,” she said, a hint of admiration in her tone.

“Hey, if she’s going to suffer through a night with Riddle, the least I can do is make sure she looks fantastic,” Lucas said, grinning. “We’re talking silk, elegance, mystery—the works.”

“I don’t know about suffering,” you said, shrugging, though a part of you felt slightly on edge about the party. Tom Riddle’s attention still felt unsettling, but you didn’t want to think about that now.

“Oh, come on, I bet he’s actually a terrible dancer,” Maeve said with a wink. “you might have to lead.”

“That would be hilarious,” Alicia added, snickering. “Just don’t let him step on your toes.”

Lucas laughed. “If he does, you have my permission to hex him right there in front of everyone.”

You couldn’t help but smile, comforted by the light-hearted teasing. As you looked around the table, a warmth settled over you, the tension from this morning melting away.

“If anything, I know you’ll be having a great time, Lucas,” you said, nudging him.

You stood up from the table, giving Lucas and the others a quick wave as you grabbed your bag. “I’m going to the library to study with Ben,” you said, smiling weakly. “I’ll see you later.”

Lucas shot you a mock-salute, his expression playfully suspicious as if to say,  ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’ You grinned and waved him off, heading down the hall with the familiar comfort of your new friends’ laughter fading behind you.

The corridors were quiet, the muffled hum of the Great Hall lingering in the background as you made your way toward the library. You had only made it a few steps when, from the corner of your eye, you noticed someone falling into stride beside you. It was Tom.

He moved silently, his steps measured and smooth, his hands tucked into his robe pockets. You hadn’t even heard him approach, yet here he was, looking as composed and unreadable as ever. You tried not to tense, but the memory of his last intense gaze lingered. 

You didn’t look at him but raised an eyebrow anyway.

“You’re walking alone,” his voice came from just next to you, and you could almost feel his gaze on the side of your face. “I thought I might walk with you.”

“Y/n,” he said, voice calm but direct, as if he’d been waiting for this moment.

You hummed in reply, wondering where this conversation was going to lead you this time.

 “I saw you by the Black Lake earlier.”

You kept your gaze forward, unsure where this was going. “…And?”

His tone was quieter than usual, though still carefully controlled. “You were …crying.”

The words struck you, not because they were untrue, but because you hadn’t realized anyone had seen. You felt your cheeks warm slightly, defensive instinct kicking in.

“Why do you care?” you replied, keeping your voice steady. “It’s hardly any of your business, Riddle.”

He looked at you, brow raised slightly. “It’s not,” he admitted. “But I’m asking.”

You glanced at him, his face composed but his eyes watchful, curious in a way that felt genuine, though you couldn’t shake the feeling that everything about him was calculated. Even so, he had a strange intensity about him that made it hard to dismiss him completely.

You stiffened, your fingers tightening around your bag strap. “I’m fine,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, your gaze fixed ahead. “It was nothing.”

“Nothing,” he repeated, almost sounding amused. “You’re lying.”

“If you must know, it’s because… I had a difficult time, with….something,” you kept your words vague, unwilling to open up fully but feeling oddly compelled to say something.

“Difficult?” Tom echoed, his voice betraying the faintest hint of curiosity. “You seem perfectly capable of handling yourself. What could possibly make you—” he paused, almost as if the word felt foreign to him, “—upset?”

You shrugged, keeping your tone guarded. “Being capable doesn’t make someone immune to, well… feeling lost, different? I don’t know. It’s not like everyone here is exactly friendly.”

He nodded, considering your words in silence as you turned the final corner toward the library. “You sound like a Hufflepuff.”

After a beat, he spoke again, his voice almost softer. “Perhaps.”

“It is just very odd to imagine someone like you feeling out of place.” He paused, his expression unreadable. “I wonder why that is.”

Something in his voice made you feel exposed, as though he was peeling back layers you hadn’t even known were there. You were confused how he spoke so, elegantly for someone so rough.

You looked away, shrugging. “Maybe because I’m just a girl, at the end of the day.”

You caught a faint, almost imperceptible flicker of interest in his eyes. “Perhaps,” he said slowly. Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, “I understand that feeling, you know. Not fitting in. It’s a powerful motivator.”

The words lingered between you, unspoken layers hidden in their simplicity, and before you could form a response, he glanced down the hallway.

“We’re nearly there,” he said, his tone shifting back to its usual detached calm. “Don’t forget, by the way—Slug Club party. You’re still my date.”

He gave you one last look, his eyes gleaming with an enigmatic intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. Then, with the same silent precision, he turned and walked away, leaving you alone outside the library, a strange sense of unsettledness trailing in his wake.

As you watched him walk away, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something—some subtle, quiet thing—had shifted between the two of you because of that little conversation. And you weren’t sure whether it was unsettling or… strangely comforting. But you could feel it in your stomach.

A/N: sorry for late postinggg, hope you enjoyed it though!! also, I'm having problems with tagging, so i apologize if your tag didn't work :(

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[bet-on-me-13]

Misunderstandings really really suck

Edit: Part 2 is Up

So heres the deal, it's a normal Vivisection AU where Danny had to run away to Gotham after his parents try to kill him, and let's say that he takes Ellie with him too.

They stay there for a few years and after a while they manage to establish a little life for themselves. Danny is running a small Shop that makes them enough money to live comfortably in the apartment right above his Shop, meanwhile Ellie is going to Gotham Metro Academy on a scholarship because she is really smart and they managed to fake some school records for her when they were making themselves new Identities.

(Side Note: Danny is now 26, while Ellie hasn't started aging yet and still looks 12, but she will begin to soon since she just hit her 12th birthday)

Danny also runs a small Ghost Shop out of his store, just selling small bits of Distilled Ectoplasm or Ecto-Infused Treats to the local Ghosts in return for small favors or help around the shop.

But here's the thing. Ellie is still an unstable Clone, even if they did managed to find a reliable treatment in the form of Ecto-Dejecto. But Danny's parents were the only ones who knew how to make that stuff, and the Ecto-Dejecto they stole all those years ago is beginning to run out.

Danny begins to work tirelessly trying to replicate it, diving full on into his Mad Scientist side to try and find a way to make more ED for Ellie. He manages to make some prototypes, but he is nowhere near confident that they are good enough.

He decides to call in some favors from the local Ghosts. He calls the ones he is confident will survive this and asks them to try out his Ecto Dejecto to see if it will work for Ellie, but he does warn them that there will probably be unexpected side effects that they will probably not like.

The Ghosts agree to do it, because in the years that the Fenton's have lived there they have grown extremely attached to Ellie. She is like a little sister or daughter for many of them, they would throw away their afterlives if it meant helping her.

For most of the samples, the ED doesn't work at all. Some of them work for a single moment before cutting out, others don't do anything, and some have crazy effects that affect them for a little while before disappearing abruptly. One guy turned into a Dog, not the worst outcome but not the intended one. Another began to glow brightly and couldn't turn it off, that one lasted for an hour.

They keep testing them, out in the nearby Alley since they don't want to destroy the house or Danny's makeshift Lab, for a few weeks.

They problem comes when they are spotted one night by Red Hood.

...

Jason was crossing the Rooftops while on Patrol. He was going a little farther than his normal patrol range, since he had the time and he wanted to make sure there was no trouble in the nearby areas either.

As he was about to hop from one rooftop to another, he got a weird feeling. It was strange, he didn't feel anything on his skin, he didn't smell anything, he didn't even hear anything, but he somehow knew that there was something strange happening in the nearby Alley. It was like he could sense it.

Peeking over the edge of the rooftop, he saw a group of about 10 people. It was a bunch of strange looking people with green-ish skin, and one normal looking person. The normal looking one was wearing a lab coat, and seemed to be about 25 yrs old. Jason felt like there was something off about that guy, but he couldn't place exactly what. He was holding a box of something in his hand, and talking to the group.

"Ok guys, I'm really confident this time!" He said, "I think one of these may be the one!"

The man placed the box on a nearby Dumpster and opened it up, taking out a strange glowing green Vial. He handed it to one of the Greenish people and watched as they injected themselves with it.

Jason watched as they began to glow slightly before their arms suddenly grew to be longer than they were tall. The Man in the Lab Coat sighed in discontent, before saying "Ok, not that one. But we still have a few to try out!"

Jason watched as one by one the people below injected themselves with the green Liquid, each of them having some strange phenomenon happen to them before moving on to the next. The strange thing was that none of them seemed to be concerned with the changes, just commenting on it felt before moving on.

Finally, they got to the last person in line. As they injected themselves, Jason felt a sense of Anticipation well up in his gut. He didn't know why, but he felt like this was going to he important.

He was proven right as the Man who had injected himself began to glow brightly. Jason was overwhelmed with the sense of Pure Power coming from him. It was intense, he didn't know how, but he could actually feel the man begin to grow stronger and stronger. The feeling was nearly suffocating, but he managed to regain his senses long enough to hear Lab Coat laugh maniacally. He looked over to see that the entire group was enthusiastically high-fiving and fist-bumping eachother, all cheering at the success.

"Hahaha! Yes! Finally!" Labcoat Cheered, "It's done! Once I make some more, we'll be able to-"

The overwhelming power suddenly cut out. It was so abrupt that even the people below didn't speak for some time. They all just stood on slight shock before Labcoat spoke up, "Ok...ok this is fine. All I need to do is take that formula and find a way to make the effect Permanent. After that we're all set." He said, a thoughtful expression on his face, "I think we'll be good to go within a Week!"

The group of people muttered in agreement, and Labcoat thanked them all for a bit before they all began to walk away. It seemed like the meeting was over.

Jason took a moment to collect himself, before deciding to follow some of the group so he could question them. Unfortunately, everybody he followed disappeared into thin air after a short time.

It occurred to him that he hadn't tried to intervene at all. Usually he would have jumped down and beaten them all black and blue for testing drugs right in front of him, but he didn't this time. Why? He also realized that he should have followed the Lab Coat guy first, not waited until it was his last option. Why did he not go after that guy instantly? Why did he hesitate? Was it something to do with that Ominous Feeling that led him to the meeting in the first place? There was just something about the guy that made Jason feel inexplicably sacred of him.

Either way, he needed to tell the others.

Because from what he had seen, a Mad Scientist had been working with a group of Metahumans to create a Super Soldier Drug right there in Gotham, and they needed to stop them.

[megalony]

You Look Happy

This is an Eddie Diaz (911) imagine requested by a lovely anon, I hope this is what you wanted and I hope you all like it. Any other requests or feedback would be great.

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Masterlist

Summary: Eddie keeps his private life away from the team, leading them to think he's single. They all get a shock at the annual BBQ when he brings a few special people along.

Enjoy.

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

"So, is everyone bringing someone on Friday?" Hen waved her fork in the air and glanced around the kitchen at her coworkers.

"I'm bringing Maddie along, she's excited to see everyone." Buck found himself a seat at the table and reached across the table for a slice of pizza.

It was the annual station cookout on Friday, they would have a BBQ going and everyone would be bringing a range of food, cakes and drinks along to make the day a big event. It was a chance for family to come and visit the station and see the team in their 'work habitat' as Bobby called it. They all needed any excuse they could get to have a party when their line of work wasn't always pleasant.

And everyone was encouraged to bring someone along, whether it was family or just a friend.

"Hmm, no special lady for you then?"

"There might be," A smirk started to form on Buck's lips and he glanced over at Eddie with a raised brow like it was a competition. "But it's too soon to bring her along to the station and meet everyone." He didn't want to push things too far, not yet when they were only just starting to go out on proper dates. Meeting the team Buck classed as his family would be a step too far too soon.

"What about you Eddie, do you finally have a lady to introduce us to?" Hen poked her tongue between her teeth, showing off a smile as Eddie looked up from his glass, suddenly realising he was being pulled into this conversation.

He could feel the heat rising to his cheeks and a splash of colour coating his skin just from the thought of bringing his special someone along to the cookout.

"The bachelor over here who lives at the station?" Buck turned around in his chair to look behind him at the coworker he classed as one of his best friends but his smirk dropped when he took in Eddie's stoic expression. "What, do you actually have someone in mind to bring?"

Eddie's lips pursed to the side and his jaw tightened just a little but after taking a deep breath, he managed a small smile to try and lighten his own mood. He didn't realise all of the team were in agreement that he was single. Although that was probably his own fault for keeping his life so shut off from the rest of them, but still, Eddie never denied it when they used to say he probably had someone waiting at home for him. It wasn't a secret.

It was a tough transition from the army into the fire department, Eddie was so used to keeping his life private because talking about his family when he was thousands of miles away from them only dampened his mood and brought him down. And he couldn't bring himself to put his wedding ring back on his finger after having it on a chain around his neck for so long.

It was always safer to have his ring tucked away beneath his uniform and in the dead of night when he was out on watch or he couldn't sleep, he would curl it in his fist and indent the shape into the palm of his hand. Eddie couldn't sleep if the ring wasn't around his neck, the small weight on his chest was a comfort he had grown used to.

But Buck had seen him leaving the showers and changing into his uniform hundreds of times, he thought his friend would have noticed the ring around his neck. He thought Buck knew but was just being respectful of his privacy.

"I have some family here in LA that can come along,"

Eddie took a swig of his drink and rested his hand on the counter, smiling around the rim of his glass. The team knew most of his family was back in Texas, his parents, his sisters and their families, a few of his aunts and uncles but he still had two aunts here in LA, plus the family his team didn't know about.

Part of Eddie wasn't sure if he would make it here in LA, if he would like the transition or get used to being here. It was why he kept himself so closed off from the rest of the team, he didn't want to get close if he was going to head back to Texas.

But it had been a year since he started at the station and he knew without a doubt that this was where he wanted to be and all of his family had adjusted to being here. They were here to stay. It was about time he let the team meet his family, after all, the team were like a second family to Eddie. He spent most of his time here with them and they were all important to him. It was time he merged both worlds together.

"That's great, you know you can bring anyone along. Siblings, nieces or nephews or friends, everyone's welcome." Bobby patted Eddie's shoulder as he passed him but his words didn't comfort Eddie as much as they unnerved him. Even Bobby didn't think Eddie had anyone special here, he was under the same impression that Eddie was a single guy who willingly spent all his time here at the station.

He was doing the extra shifts for the money, not the company or the thrill.

"Perfect," He was going to surprise them all.

***

A smile formed on Eddie's lips and he tried to balance his weight on his heels and keep his steps as light as possible so he couldn't be heard traipsing through into the kitchen. He'd already kicked off his boots the moment he walked in the door which gave him the advantage of being quieter.

He passed through the doorway into the kitchen where the radio was playing softly in the background, helping to cover up the sound of him returning home.

His sights set on the one person he was hoping to surprise and while she had her back facing him, Eddie picked up the pace and he seemed to time it perfectly right. Just as (Y/n) turned around, Eddie pounced and wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her off her feet in a split second. His smile broadened into a grin when she shrieked and he spun round on his heels as he felt (Y/n)'s arms deadlock around his neck and her face bury into his shoulder.

"Eddie!" (Y/n) swatted her hand down on his back and breathed his name into his neck but she could already feel him laughing against her before he kissed the side of her head.

He was always one for surprising her.

"You'll give me a heart attack one day," (Y/n) mumbled the words into his shoulder but she couldn't hold back a smile. Her arms tightened around his neck when he carefully set her back down on her feet and she could feel his hands roaming around her back and hips before he settled on cupping her stomach instead. "Oh, that's why you scared me is it?"

"What?" Eddie kept his head nuzzled against hers until (Y/n) cupped his face and tilted his head back so he could look down at her and he took the liberty of resting his temple against hers. He had a very innocent expression on his face but the way his eyes gleamed and his pupils started to expand gave away everything. And when his lips curved up and he flashed his teeth, (Y/n) couldn't help but laugh.

"You forget just how well I know you, Mr Diaz. You scared me to wake her up."

(Y/n) let her hands move down from cupping his cheeks to rub up and down his shoulders as he threw his head back to let out a hearty laugh. He had been rumbled.

Every time when Eddie was around and (Y/n) started to feel some movement from the baby, Eddie was there with his hands roaming her stomach only to find that their girl had settled back down. It was like she was teasing him and he didn't like it, he wanted to be there for everything, he didn't want to miss a thing and he loved to feel her kick more than anything.

Eddie just so happened to realise that whenever he snook up on (Y/n) or gave her a little jump scare which he was prone to doing, the baby woke up and she would wriggle and kick up a storm. If Eddie got (Y/n)'s heart racing, he could hold her stomach like he was doing now and he wouldn't miss a thing.

"Ah, you caught me, but I was right. See, she knows it's me." He continued to smooth his hands up and down her stomach while he pressed a kiss to her forehead and rested his lips there for a while.

"Did you have a good day?"

"Not too bad all things considered. Do you have plans for Friday?"

Adrenaline sparked in (Y/n)'s stomach when Eddie's hands moved to caress her hips and he walked her back until her hips bumped against the kitchen counter and he had her caged in. He stepped closer until he was practically stood between her legs, their hips and chests merged together and his forehead tipped down until it was resting on hers. His hands moved from her hips to rest on the counter either side of her, caging her beneath him like his prey and it sent her knees wobbling in the best possible way.

She tightened her hands on his biceps before she moved her palms to smooth her hands and fingertips up and down over his chest. It was something she knew drove him crazy and she could feel each breath becoming deeper and steady beneath her fingers.

"No, I don't think so. Why, what did you have in mind?"

"We're having a family day at the station in the afternoon, there will be a BBQ and Cap said we can bring anyone along. Fancy joining me with Christopher?" Eddie glanced his eyes down to (Y/n)'s lips as he spoke and subconsciously licked his own lips before he looked back up to her eyes.

"It sounds lovely… what's that look for?" (Y/n) rubbed her thumb across his chin and up along his jaw.

She knew that look in his eyes and the way his lips twitched up on one side like a slanted smile. It wasn't a bad or worried look but it was something different to excitement or happiness, he looked apprehensive.

"No one's expecting me to bring anyone,"

(Y/n) wasn't surprised. She knew Eddie like the back of her hand and he was a very closed off, private person. He could joke around at work and have a laugh and get to know people, but letting them into his life was much different and it was harder than it seemed. But Eddie was ready to let everyone in now, he knew they weren't the kind of people who would hurt him or turn on him, they were a new family and he wanted them in every aspect of his life.

Eddie kept his eyes on (Y/n)'s lips for a few seconds until she cupped his face in her hands again and brought him closer so their noses brushed together. But it was her smile that made his heart skip a beat and his eyes creased from the wide smile that spread across his face when she kissed the corner of his mouth.

"We'll just have to show them how loved you are then, won't we?"

He brought his hands up to cup hers before he leaned forward to press a feverish kiss on her lips. His fingertips itched and tapped against her hands and he shifted between her legs with a buzz of energy. He would have kissed her deeper, harsher, quicker. He would have lifted her up off her feet again and spun her round or sat her high on the kitchen counter if a certain voice didn't stop him in his tracks.

"Daddy, you're home!"

***

"Are we here?"

"Yep, this is where daddy works," A small bubble of anxiety dwelled in (Y/n)'s stomach when she approached the fire station looming ahead of them.

The only time (Y/n) had been here was when she had dropped Eddie off and picked him up from shift when his car was in the garage. She had never actually been inside and seen what it looked like on the other side. It loomed large like a beacon in society.

Where was she supposed to go? Did she have to sign in or let someone know she was here? Did they have a checklist or was anyone allowed to turn up unannounced? Eddie did say that anyone was allowed to be here and he had told everyone he was bringing someone but she knew he hadn't specified who was coming. He was going to surprise them and show them that he did have people waiting at home for him when his shift ended and his work like came to a finish.

(Y/n) unhooked her bag from her shoulder and looped it over the handlebar of Christopher's wheelchair that she was gripping so tightly her knuckles were almost popping through her skin.

Her eyes did another sweep over the pair of them, triple-checking that they looked okay to be here. Christopher had chosen himself a dark blue button up shirt and trousers and (Y/n) had gone with a floral yellow dress that looped up around her neck and came down just beneath her knees. It was one of the only dresses (Y/n) had that looked more sophisticated but also stretched enough to cover her six-month bump.

Clothes were starting to get snug at the moment and Eddie was coming home to find (Y/n) had confiscated a lot of his shirts and button ups since they fit her better than her own clothes.

The wide red doors that opened up for the trucks to get out were pinned open to let people flow in and out and (Y/n) could hear the music before they even got inside. And the atmosphere seemed to buzz through the air like speckles of sugar glistening all around the station.

"Are you ready?"

"Yep."

Smiling, (Y/n) reached down and ruffled his curls and looked down to make sure he was holding the two trays tightly. They had spent the morning baking cookies and a lemon cake which was Eddie's weakness and Christopher wouldn't let go of them all the way here.

Pinning a loose curl behind her ear, (Y/n) took a deep breath and pushed the chair forward into the station that was crowded with people moving about from all angles. Some were up high in the loft, leaning over and laughing and joking. Others were near the gym towards the right and people were dotted between the two trucks and the ambulance which had all been cleaned today by the looks of them.

Where was Eddie hiding? He had been here since eight this morning because he was technically on shift but he promised (Y/n) as soon as they arrived, he would be right beside her and he wouldn't leave unless he had to go out on a call.

She was sure the panic was written across her face when an older man approached them with a soft smile, bright eyes and broad shoulders.

"Hi, welcome, come on in. I'm Captain Nash but everyone calls me Bobby," He waved a hand over before both his hands moved to rest on his hips but he had a calming voice that made (Y/n) feel at ease. If everyone seemed as welcoming as him then this wouldn't be as daunting as she first thought.

"Hi, I'm (Y/n) and this is Christopher."

"We made cake!" He held the silver tray out for Bobby to see but it was clear he wasn't about to hand it over. He was proud and showing off what they had done but he was still protecting the treats they had made. He wouldn't put them down until he saw Eddie.

"Wow, thank you! Everyone here as a sweet tooth. Who are you here for and I'll go let them know you're here."

"Eddie, thank you," (Y/n) rung her hands together when Bobby raised a brow but his open mouthed expression quickly turned into a grin and he nodded. He waved them to follow him towards the buffet table where a lot of people were crowded round sharing jokes and playful taunts before he wandered off to find Eddie.

"Hey, look, someone made cookies!"

(Y/n)'s eyes darted over to a tall man who looked to be a little younger than Eddie, he had a broad smile and a playful aura about him that seemed to radiate to Christopher who smiled proudly. He crouched down beside the chair and folded his arms over on the armrest but his eyes were on the cookies Christopher was already trying to get the clingfilm off.

"Thanks, these look great," He kindly took the cookie he was offered and ate it in one, causing the eight-year-old to giggle happily. "I'm Evan, but everyone calls me Buck."

"Oh, you're Buck, Eddie talks about you a lot." (Y/n) smiled down at him before she leaned around the chair and carefully slipped her hands beneath Christopher's arms to pick him up from the chair. It was always easier to take him out in the wheelchair than make him walk too far on his crutches but (Y/n) knew he would be fine to walk and hobble round the station if he was slow and careful. "Why don't you put them on the table, baby?"

She took the lemon cake from him and put it on the chair so he wouldn't be carrying too much and he could focus on putting the cookies down on the buffet table across from them. When she turned back to Buck, he was stood up again, hands in his pockets and a curious smile on his face.

"He talks about us, does he? Are you his sister?"

Something flashed across (Y/n)'s eyes and she forced herself not to laugh, settling instead on a kind smile. Surely she didn't look related to Eddie? They weren't similar in looks or features or height and (Y/n) certainly didn't look like any of his big sisters.

"Hey Buck, who's this?" Hen appeared at his side, handing him over a drink before she turned towards (Y/n) with one of the brightest smiles she had seen before- other than Eddie and Christopher of course.

"There you are," Eddie's voice was unusually soft and quiet but he knew (Y/n) had heard him when he saw her head turn to the side to try and see where he was. It had been a tempting idea to sneak up behind her and give her a small jump like he had done the other day but he refrained because they were in public and he didn't want to embarrass her.

He walked up behind her and his hands instantly found their home on her waist, cradling her hips comfortingly through her dress that stood out to Eddie from a mile away. He knew as soon as he walked down the stairs that his wife, his girl, was the one in the yellow summer dress that had sequins sewn into the hem and her hair curled into ringlets, pinned to the back of her head.

His chest glued up against (Y/n)'s back and she could feel his deep breaths resonating through her, no doubt full of anticipation about introducing his family to his work family. But (Y/n) could feel how oddly calm Eddie was behind her and she found herself closing her eyes when he kissed the side of her head and leaned down to keep his lips smothered against her cheek for a few seconds.

"Guys, this is my wife, (Y/n). Sweetheart, this is Buck and Hen, and that's Chimney over there."

Something about the way their jaws dropped made Eddie grin against (Y/n)'s cheek and he could feel pins and needles tingling down to his fingertips. They were expecting his aunts to be his company today or some distant relative or just a new friend he made whilst living here. They weren't expecting him to be married or to have a child either.

"It's lovely to meet you," (Y/n) shook Hen's hand when she held it out but her eyes were narrowed in on Eddie and her lips were pressed together like she was waiting for an explanation.

No one would have made fun of him or commented if he told them he was married. He knew all about their love lives, or Buck's lack thereof and he had met Hen's wife Rachel before and her son Denny. But this was the first they were hearing of him having a family.

"Wife? So, so you're married?"

"That's generally what it means, Buck." Eddie pressed another kiss to (Y/n)'s cheek before he hovered his lips over her ear when he noticed the cake sitting on the vacant wheelchair in front of her. "You made my favourite," He whispered the words quietly against the shell of her ear, feeling her shiver against him which only made his grin broaden.

"Oh, so he's your boy?" Buck pointed across to the buffet table where Christopher was already making a dozen friends with anyone who was within his reach. But as soon as his head turned and his eyes landed on Eddie, he was clapping and making his way through the crowd to get back to his parents.

"You have a kid too?" Hen turned round to catch a glimpse of who Buck was pointing to. This day just kept getting better and better.

"Yeah, here's my boy."

"Daddy!"

Eddie unravelled one hand from (Y/n)'s hip and crouched down enough so that when Christopher hurried over to him with open arms, he could scoop him up. He curved his arm around his boy and effortlessly lifted him up in one arm and perched him on his hip while his other arm stayed around (Y/n)'s waist, keeping the two most important people close at hand.

"Shall we go cut this cake? I'm starving," He bounced Christopher on his hip before he kissed (Y/n)'s forehead and reached down to grab the lemon cake that was calling his name. "I won't be a minute," He mumbled quietly against her skin before he headed over towards the buffet where Bobby was starting to plate a few things up.

His arm nudged against Bobby when he went to cut the cake and he smiled up at his captain when he felt his boy nuzzling into the crook of his neck with a big smile.

"Do you know what you're having yet?"

"A little girl," Eddie knew it was a sensitive topic but he couldn't stop himself from grinning like the Cheshire cat even as he bit down on his lower lip to calm down his smile. He had his son in his arm and soon he was going to have a little girl to spoil and show off to the team. He was beyond excited.

"That's why you've been picking up the extra shifts?" Bobby kept his voice quiet so no one else would pick up on their conversation but he spoke with a smile and a calm tone. He wasn't being rude or insinuating, he knew better than most what it was like to keep your family to yourself and have something that the rest of the team didn't know about. But Bobby thought it was good that Eddie was opening up to them all, he had been with them long enough to be one of the team and be part of their family.

"Yeah, I'll need to put in for a few weeks off soon, thought I may as well do extra now while I can." He was going to be asking for time off in a few weeks because in just over two months he wanted to be home with (Y/n) ready for when she went into labour and then afterwards to help her at home with the baby.

Eddie knew it was the best idea to do overtime now while (Y/n) was pregnant so it wouldn't affect them when he had to take leave and be home with her. He wouldn't be able to take a lot of extra shifts after the baby was born, he knew (Y/n) would need him home with her.

"Good for you, you look happy."

"Oh I am Cap," Eddie let his eyes wander back over to (Y/n) who was smiling and laughing along with Buck who was trying to cautiously feel her stomach but it wasn't something he had ever done before. "I am."

[moonstruckme]

I recently found ur page and omfg I spent hours yesterday reading all ur work!!!! What a lil fic of Sirius and reader but like pre relationship where she's in the hospital (u can pick reason) and she refuses to see anyone and just asks for Sirius

Thanks for requesting my love!

cw: hospital, mention of stitches

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 906 words

Sirius feels awkward and stiff as he pulls back the curtain, though for all he knows you’re too hopped up on pain meds to even know it’s him. Really, that’s the only reasonable explanation for the directions the nurse had just delivered: “She said she’ll only see Sirius right now.” 

He has no clue why you’d ask for him. He’s probably the least comforting of your roommates, and as soon as he catches sight of you, knees tented in front of your chest and hands clasped around your ankles, his worry for your choice deepens. 

Someone’s tried to clean you up, but they’ve done a shit job of it. There’s still blood crusted on your chin, and your face is blotchy, your cheeks smeared with dark gray like you’d wiped across them with your hands only to spread your makeup off to the sides. James had said you’d cried the whole car ride to A&E, but Sirius still wasn’t prepared to see you like this. His chest feels hollow and achy. 

“Hey,” you say, voice scratchy. If hearts have strings, you’re playing his like a fiddle. 

“Hey, doll.” He goes for a smile as he sits on the edge of your little cot, managing to sound halfway normal. “Come here often?” 

You start to grin, then stop like it hurts. Sirius stops, too. 

“Yeah, you know,” you say, “now and then.” 

“Don’t see why.” He makes a show of looking about him, at the papery blue curtain and beige-ish linoleum floors. “Place is sorta depressing.” 

You roll your eyes, and Sirius’ heart lightens to see you in a better humor. “Yeah, I think I’ve judged my hangout poorly. I’m dying to get out of here.” 

He’ll bet. You’ve been here hours longer than him. James had been the only one home with you when you’d tripped on the stairs and bitten through your lip, and Sirius and Remus had only found out when they’d gotten home and seen the note James left, his already scribbly handwriting worsened by haste and panic. By the time they’d arrived they’d missed most of the action (Sirius was secretly thankful for that) and James had filled them in before the nurse had come out to inform them that you’d gotten three stitches in your lip and summoned Sirius back. 

“I can understand that.” He gives you his best approximation of James’ easygoing grin. “You ready to go home then, gorgeous?” 

The shift is slight, but Sirius sees your bravado fade, a shyness entering your expression. “That’s actually why I wanted to see you,” you say.

“Yeah?” He doesn’t bother to hide his curiosity. “Why’s that?” 

“Because I know you’ll be honest with me.” 

He feels his eyebrows go up. “About what?” 

You shrink a bit, knees drawing closer to your chest. Your voice is small when you ask, “Is it awful? I mean, do I look awful?” 

Ah. Sirius can see why you’d want him for this, but you’re wrong in your assumption. He’d absolutely lie to you if he needed to, just like Remus or James would in his place. But you’ve asked for him, so Sirius tries to do right by you. 

“You could never look awful, dollface. Be sensible.” He squints his eyes teasingly, reaching for your ankle and giving it a reprimanding little shake. “It’s just a couple of stitches, you haven’t been warped unrecognizable.” 

You frown, and it’s even more upsetting than usual. Your eyes look heart-breakingly insecure. “Are you sure?” you ask softly. 

“Yeah, I’m fucking sure.” Sirius scoffs like you’re unbelievable. “You said it yourself, babe, I wouldn’t lie to you.” He definitely would, but there’ll never be an occasion for that. He can’t imagine you genuinely looking bad. “I can clean you up a bit, though, if you’d like.” 

You blink. “Um, yeah. If you think it would help.” 

“Brilliant. Sit tight.” Sirius gets up and starts going through drawers, sifting through medical supplies for something he can use. 

“Fairly sure you’re not supposed to do that.” You sound like you’re trying not to smile. 

“Fairly certain my taxes pay for this place, and they’ve left my best-looking roommate with a dirty face.” He finds a box of mini-wipes, turning back to you. “Don’t tell James I’ve said that.” 

“Oh, I’m definitely tattling on you,” you tease, and Sirius is caught between feeling triumphant and worried that you look very near to grinning. He has no clue how easy it is to tear your stitches. 

“What, you want us to match? That’s cruel, sweetheart.” 

You roll your eyes. “He won’t punch you.” 

Sirius huffs a laugh, holding you still with a hand on your jaw as he wipes gently at your chin. “You haven’t known him as long as I have.” 

Your brows flick up as you meet his eyes, disbelieving. “Our James? You really think our James would hit you for saying he’s not the best looking roommate?” 

“Well, not if you’re in front of me,” he muses. He throws out the first wipe, ripping open another. “He already feels bad for you, so maybe that can work in my favor. If you are going to tell him, lean on me as we walk out, okay, doll? Give me a fighting chance.” 

The corner of your lips twist as you close your eyes and Sirius wipes sideways across your cheek. “Yeah, fair enough. I’ll do my best for you.”

[audisive]

♪ MILLION DOLLAR MAN. (💌)

౨ৎ simon 'ghost' riley | reader

synopsis: you need a bodyguard, and simon's the only one you can trust. for now.

tags: fluff, angst (ish), hurt/comfort, romance, soft!simon, bodyguard!ghost, model!reader, trust issues, hints to a panic attack, you have a bad dad (and family)

        There's an ugly yellow folder on your vanity, sticking out like a sore thumb.

That's the first thing you see.

There's a hitch in your breath before you speak. "Vel," you walk over to your desk and call out to the lovely girl with your coat over her arm, your favorite maid. "What's this?" With manicured nails, you pick up the folder cautiously with the feeling of familiarity and déjà vu.

Veliana tilts her head to the side, the clueless little bird she is. "A folder, miss." You huff a smile out at her simple response, the pretty little thing never knowing better. "Please give Noah a call." You tell her and she nods her head automatically, still smiling at you.

When she carefully places your coat on the rack, she scurries off to who knows where. You're left in the comforts of your too-large room, a delicate piece of work that you'd paid thousands of dollars for after your face had snatched the interests of magazines, reporters, and such. You find that there are even uglier men inside when you open the flimsy thing in your hand.

Veliana is breathless when she comes back to you like the obedient girl she is, handing over the phone with your manager's name on it.

"What's wrong, darling girl?" Noah asks, annoyance seeping into his tone despite the usual pet name. "What's with the profiles?" you question right back, flipping through the folders, carefully scanning each gruesome man with horrifying detail. You already know the answer, but you dread it.

"About time you actually considered my suggestion," he voices out. "You need a new bodyguard."

  You find that your new bodyguard is just as noticeable as the folder you threw away without much thought. There's people staring at him when they would be gawking at you. 

Simon Riley is a trusted man; at least that's what you try to tell your manager. A remarkable 6'4 military man who should be off in a bar with beer – he drinks whiskey, imbecile – or resting in a broke-down apartment, not babysitting his model of a friend. Honestly, you wouldn't have minded it if he acted just a little annoyed at you, but he doesn't even spare you so much as a glare. You're not sure if you should be glad or not.

You have to admit that you do feel a little smug when your manager avoids yelling at you with Simon glaring daggers at him. Then again, there's this anxious feeling pooling at your stomach when he gets a little too close. He's certainly scarier than the last one.

His large hand calms you down when it lands on your lower back and sneaks his warmth through your thin clothing. You let out a breath, as if he'd just commanded you to do so without a word.

  Simon should be in his awfully empty apartment, sleeping the day off or making a small trip to the groceries for necessities fresh out of deployment. But when he opened the door to you, who's clearly so troubled and almost begging to help you out with.. whatever it was you asked, how could he say no? 

"It's just temporary, I swear. I just need some time to do a proper background check on the other bodyguards."

Given that your shitty father's in jail with unfinished as well as illegal business, it wouldn't be proper of him to let a civilian walk around with danger right at her back. That's what he says to himself, anyway.

He's just not so sure he signed up for the right job as a bodyguard. Truth be told, he would've preferred to be your boyfriend.. but as long as he has rights to protect you, then he won't complain.

He's well aware of the men coming for your neck for a variety of reasons. Some out of jealousy – Simon thinks that the fashion industry might as well be a warzone. Maybe that's why he accepted this in the first place – and some because of your problematic family.

He's also heard about your past cowardly bodyguards, if you can even call them that after they'd left you in the face of death. It's a wonder how you're still alive, but he wouldn't dare question it.

It doesn't help, not really, when there's an ear-deafeaning explosion and a panicked angel in his arms, clutching onto him for dear life. "Simon," you all but whimper, labored breaths and uncontrollable tears slipping out of you.

He hushes you, coos at you as sweet as he possibly can. He soothes you and cradles you against his chest as he shoots back at death and carries you to safety when the storm of chaos calms. And he never leaves. Not once.

Not even when you're well and sitting on the cold bed of an even colder hospital room. You'd begged him to stay and lay with you, and when he does, you insist that you owe him your life, and he tells you he's just doing his job.

Still, you can't help that you push yourself closer to him. "Thank you," you whisper, "for staying."

"'M yours to keep." Simon gruffs out, "my loyalty and life belongs to you. All of it." And so does his heart.

(bodyguard!ghost is just modern knight!ghost to me :3c)

        divider by @cafekitsune !

[bodythieves]

shane mccutcheon x you | cw: intox!makeout, slight fingering?, dirty talk-ish | stoner!shane, neighbor!shane, anxious!reader (is that how i label this shit?)

THIS IS RLY LONG!

okay, okay. let's be honest here: you are not one for change. you are not one to break out of your routine, one to sway from your typical path. no, rather, you are steadfast in every moment of your day, to an absolute t. some of your friends like to tease you until your skin feels hot, and you look down at your feet. you have a google calendar (your lord and savior) and a prescription for an unnamed anxiety medication that you'd-rather-not-talk-about.

and shane. oh, god, shane mccutcheon. shane was your neighbor in a shitty LA apartment, a hairstylist/absolute fucking menace. every other day, she's sitting on the stoop, feet flat on the ground and elbows on her knees, a cigarette dangled between her lips. she'd smile, check you out- go to say something. but you- being you, of course- would quickly swing open the and duck inside.

today was particularly awful for you, though. your therapist had broken up with you. he was moving to a new practice, they didn't accept your insurance, and you had just gotten so comfortable. remember how we made it known that you weren't great with change? the smallest thing could make you itch. make you feel as if you had lost everything, like it all was over. so, understandably, you were having a meltdown inwardly that you couldn't let out until you reached the sanctuary of your one bedroom apartment and closed that manager's-special, white door. except you wouldn't be doing that, no. not now. because you felt your face betray you as you neared the pathway that led to the glass vestibule of the apartment complex. there she was.

"oh, look," she snorts softly through her nostrils, her lips quirking up into a smile upon seeing your own (even if it was microscopic). she had just sat down to smoke as you neared, her lithe frame hunched over as she picked through a paper cigarette pack. "didn't know you were able to do that." tracking shane's movements, your eyes followed the brunette as her slender fingers plucked out a cigarette, and brought it to that smug grin.

"I've smiled at you before." you said this far quicker than you would've liked to. quick enough that shane could tell you were already nervous. your paces brought you to the cement set of steps before the vestibule, the glass reflecting a soft glare from the setting LA sun. as you came closer, you let your gaze drift over her. shaggy brown hair, a charming disposition- definitely was trying to make you laugh. you cleared your throat, then looked back at Shane's cigarette before she lit it. "do you.. care if i bum one of those?"

um, who the fuck is that? why are you asking for a cigarette right now? oh, that’s right. you were being you when faced with uncomfortable amounts of difference in your typical day-to-day life. your therapist dumped you, your job is mundane, your family is incessantly nagging you, your anxiety is never-

“oh?” shane perked up, the filter of her cigarette now between her teeth as she smiled, rather than her lips. dark green eyes sparkled playfully, but her brows pushed up in an attempt to feign sympathy. she could tell you were feeling off today. after all, you were speaking. “yeah, sure, of course,” she said, fingering open the back with her thumb and taking a look. something about shane’s voice sounded so teasing. as if she wanted to sound like she’d take care of you, like she was worried. her left hand moved up to pull the cigarette from her teeth and her tongue darted out to wet the corner of her lip. A small tsk could be heard from her. “mm.. I only got my lucky left. you don’t care to share, do you?”

you were gonna faint. you were gonna fall over, die, cream your fucking pants. yeah, of course, you thought shane was hot before. why else would you avoid her every time she tried to holler at you? you couldn’t handle that. like we established earlier- you’re a hazard when your schedule is disturbed. but now? right here, standing just a couple feet away from a shane, engaging in conversation, breaking your perfectly time-alotted pattern? the thing that kept you distracted from all the shit of your daily experience? you’d never seen anything hotter.

you felt your body begin moving against your will, sitting down beside shane without missing a beat. your feet became brutus, your mind julius, crying why! you too?! you’re betraying me! as you turn and allow the backs of your sneakers to hit the cement step, lowering yourself down. part of it was definitely to show yourself off to shane. at least a little bit. if you were going to deter from your repetitive habits, why not be a little risky? flirt a little? on the other, you just needed to know that another person was real. what better proof is proximity? “yeah, that’s cool,” your voice is quiet as you take in the sight of shane so close and in such pretty light, your nerves absolutely eating at you.

her lighter was lime green and struggled to spark at first. instinctively, you reach out. you cup your hand around the lighter and use your fingers to hide shane’s cigarette. smoke curls from her nose and she pulls her face away, pinching her brows together as the cigarette began to spark. nodding a silent thank you for your assistance. hush sounds of burning paper, then a cloud of smoke, exhaled through the woman’s nose- you begin to forget. why had you never really spoken to her before? why do you avoid interaction like this?

“well,” shane mumbled from the butt of the cigarette, more smoke leaving her nose. “you have a pretty smile.”

you and shane sit in a friendly silence for a moment, but it’s quickly changing. you can feel that shane is checking you out. of course she is- you’re insanely cute. with high features that are just soft enough, making you so easily approachable. if only you weren’t an anxiety attack on legs! taking a glance at her, you can feel your heart pick up motion in your chest, thrumming inside of your work uniform. shane puts her fingers to her lips and pulls the cigarette away with her thumb and forefinger.

“you smoke weed?” you asked her, raising your eyebrow. your fingers moved, taking the cigarette between your own thumb and finger.

“uh,” she said, starting to let out a chuckle. “i mean, yeah. why?”

“you hold it like you’re smoking a joint.”

“hm,” shane smirked a little, letting you take the cigarette from between her fingers. “do you smoke?”

you shrug a little, taking a slow pull from the dart of tobacco, letting the thick smoke hit your throat and sit for a second. it had been a long time since you’d had one, and it always felt so right when you needed it. “sometimes,” you said, still holding your drag in your throat. “gives me bad anxiety on occasion. try to steer away from it.”

“damn,” shane’s green eyes rake over the side of your face, taking in your features as you blew out a faint stream of smoke. “you think this could be one of your sometimes?”

you pass the cigarette back, turning your head slightly to the left so you can look at shane. a sheepish expression crosses your lips and you mull over the thought. but only for a minute.

“yeah. honestly, i could probably use it.” what was a little more change? what was a little more anxiety? at this point, neither could push you any further than you already were. your response to shane’s question caused the brunette to smirk around the filter of the cigarette, and she nodded as she exhaled. you two sat for a few minutes after, sharing the smoke. there weren’t really any words spoken, but the lack of conversation was made up for in exchanged glances. you took a final drag of the cigarette, then dropped it on the ground and used the toe of your shoe to step it out.

simultaneously, you and shane stood on your feet from the stoop of the apartment complex. you looked her over- taking in her tall and dangly frame, hidden beneath a dark gray zip up and loose jeans, hanging from her hips. her shaggy hair was flippy and chopped, a small blonde tuft in the back. she was.. god, she was actually so cute. you looked away for a second, remembering that you were about to join her. upstairs. in her apartment. and smoke weed. with hot cheeks, you turned on your sneaker and moved on to the cement steps, pacing towards the glass door and slipping your key inside. shane’s presence was looming. literally. you felt her come up behind you and grab ahold of the metal frame just above your head, pulling it open wider so you could get in.

christ, you thought. you were betraying everything you knew: routine, mundanity, consistency. to go hang out with your neighbor who brought home new girls every other night, who smoked out the whole complex, who always smiled at you when she saw you. fuck, fuck, fuck- sneakers, both yours and shane’s, lightly thudded on the linoleum steps of the apartment hallway, bouncing off walls. jeez, focus long enough, you were certain you could hear your heartbeat echo back to you. oh, god, oh, god, oh, god- you stand behind shane, she leads you into her apartment. messy, disorganized, totally not you. you are well kept, you are neat, you are- totally about to jump this woman’s bones. you realize this as Shane sits down on her futon, legs spread wide, her lap just begging for you to come sit on it. oh, god. fuck. oh, god, oh-

“fuck,” you breathed out. you’d had to have been holding that in forever, lungs burning and eyes clenched tight. your head fell back on to the arm of shane’s futon and you could’ve sworn that this was all just a dream. that joint was either insanely strong, or you were losing time because of your previously high levels of anxiety and tension. ‘relax’- she had whispered to you, just before this heated session- ‘let me take care of you. i know what i’m doing, swear. only if you want me to.’ of course you wanted to. to deny that would be an absolute lie.

you feel shane’s breath fan against your neck, the sensation warm and all-consuming. her nose pushing against your jaw and nestling below your ear, soft lips brushing along your skin, ringed fingers slipped up your shirt and ghosted her fingers over your naval, teasing gently at a metal piercing that lay in the skin. her smile could be felt against your neck and she reared back, leaning on to the heels of her feet with a playful grin. her eyes sparkled and she pulled the hem of your shirt up with her right hand, then moved her left from the back of the futon. that hand made its sneaky way to your thigh, pushing your knee into the futon’s black fabric.

“that’s cute.”

“yeah?”

“oh, for sure. you.. got another one?”

“no,” you murmur shakily. you suddenly wished you had more. wished you’d succumbed to those thoughts of impulsivity that rushed through your brain when your spiraled out of control. you thought, for a moment, it would’ve made you more attractive. but… it seemed like shane didn’t mind it. she dropped your shirt and brought that right hand to her mouth, running her thumb and forefinger over her chin. her left then took hold of your black slacks, the uniform for your job, her forefinger hooking into a belt loop.

“that’s okay,” she said, looking at you through her lashes, letting her hand fall as she spoke. “you’d look really good with some more.”

you can’t do this any longer you are losing grip now. you shift your hips desperately, the futon squeaking annoyingly beneath you, but you brush it off. your nerves are shot, you’re insanely horny, you need to get this shit out of your system. “shane,” you mumble lowly, trying to get her attention. you succeed.

but first, she cracks that teeth-rotting smile. the one just sweet enough to make your mouth hurt, and sexy enough to make you sick. then, she does it. she leans in again, and you are full on making out. no longer just slowly kissing, clouded in a smoky haze, kisses tasting of resin and cigarettes. her lips are so soft, her fingers nimble and dexterous as they cup the small of your back. she pulls you. up, into a sitting position, and wraps her palm around the nape of your neck to hold you there. the hand that had pulled you shifted once more as shane lay back on to the futon, and you went right with her. she was handling you. not forcibly, no, but gently, enough to just guide you.

and seeking a safety net in your crumbling control, you let her. you slid into position, right in shane’s lap like you’d wanted to be in the first place. perfect. hanging your head low, you pushed down against your neighbor’s lap and felt yourself rush with a specific heat you only experienced when you knew you weren’t supposed to be doing something. foreheads pushed together, lips a breath apart, you closed the gap. your hands brace the sides of shane’s head and your knuckles nearly turn white from how hard you grasp on to the wooden frame.

shane’s kiss is absolutely filthy. she’s licking, drawing your mouth open as if it were a profound cavern she was in dire need to explore, pulling air from your lungs. you aren’t sure how you’re still feeling at this point, but a trace of shane’s touch runs down across your belly button piercing again and pulls at the button of your slacks. expertly, her lips never once stop moving as the plastic black button pops and she teases down your zipper.

you. oh, you have never been so hungry. you were starving. fuck schedules. fuck routine, to hell with repetition. what was it for anyway? to be comfortable? being comfortable never brought you into situations like this. without thinking, one of your hand relents from the frame and rushes to grab shane’s hand, pushing at her wrist so her fingers would cup just above your underwear, palm right over your pubis. you hadn’t shaved in awhile. though you were tidy, you hadn’t had any in awhile. shane liked it though. you could tell based on how she smiles against your mouth.

words no longer suffice. you clench violently around nothing, your need so heavy that you feel your pulse in the depths of your center. shane pulls away only for a moment to gaze into your eyes as she pulls the fabric of your slacks just slightly past your hips. enough to where she can push your underwear to the side and tuck her fingers against your warm skin, and enough to watch you react.

“you..” shane nearly moans out the word. “you’re.. stupid wet right now.” her brows turn up and she parts her lips, leaning forward on to futon so she could be closer to you. her fingers moved. and you’d never felt something so good. silver rings, soft fingertips, hands that knew what they were doing. you shuddered and jerked, nearly squealing as she ran her thumb over your clit. she looked like she was about to worship you. like she was ready to pray to you. she was so adorable, somehow.

“yeah,” there’s hardly anything but desire behind your voice now. “yeah, i.. i told you-“ you grunt and jerk your hips.

just as Shane’s fingers begin to move in circles, your eyes flutter shut and you begin rocking your hips.

“i needed that joint.”

shane hums out a low chuckle and nods her head. her thumb leaves your clit for only a moment. brushing south and rubbing along your entrance, she eases the truth from your lips.

“i hoped it would end with this, too.” you tone was airy, so overwhelmed with need that you could hardly hear yourself speak.

and just like that, how the truth did set you free. shane’s lips met yours and she kissed you so slowly. lips locked passionately, as if she were thirsty and the only refreshing thing was your kiss. her fingers moved back to your clit, stroking and pushing in motions that rounded your hood with horrifying ease. this was too good. this was great. this was perfect.

you were never going to stick to routine ever again.

notes: okay that’s it im done Im so sorry to lead up so much to barely anything at all but. BUT I GOT NERVOUS. ANYWAY HERE’S THIS IM TAGGING @thestarkillers bc ik they love shane the way i do and this is for them ok bai ALSO i wrote the second half of this drunk. enjoy!