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honey-tongued-devil · 6 days ago

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[Arcane preference] reacting to someone flirting with their s/o + jealousness

I'll be honest, I had like four headcanons on jealousy (and five on pregnancy, curse on you and your baby fever), so making this headcanon became a priority. Plus, I tried to make it a bit longer. As usual, under the "read more" line, you'll find both my other project for Arcane (a series of vintage-style posters) and my other socials in case you want to follow me because you love me too much.

Jayce:

- He’s not the type to cause a scene, nor is he the aggressive kind.

- When someone flirts with you in front of him for the first time, he’s confused for a few seconds.

- The problem begins when the thought starts settling, stagnating, thickening like sediment at the bottom of a bottle. Was the person really hitting on you, or is he just being paranoid?

- Did they not realize you were together? Or did they do it on purpose?

- It doesn’t take long for him to start ignoring you, not even on purpose—he suddenly forgets he’s a scientist, a successful adult man, and spirals into a crisis.

- What if he’s not enough? What if that person realized before him that he wasn’t suited for you?

- You notice something’s off, but he doesn’t say a word. If it happens again, his fists clench, he feels like the world is collapsing on him, and if it persists, he leaves without even thinking.

- He doesn’t want to witness that scene; he’s terrified that you might accept the flirtation, that you’ll realize he’s not good enough for you.

- And if you’re going to leave him, he doesn’t want to see it with his own eyes.

- Eventually, he’ll be the one to bring up the subject, just to tell you that if you’re tired of him, he won’t hold it against you and that he understands.

- It’s not true, but he wants to seem mature. He wants to be a good partner until the end and almost breaks down when you reassure him that you don’t want to leave him, that he is enough.

Viktor:

- Pre-"Arcane s1-tamed" Viktor would snap at the person flirting with you or insult them under his breath.

- In the wrong moment, with enough alcohol in his system, his reaction could even turn violent.

- Viktor gets jealous with anger—a mix of fear of being mocked, the lack of control over the situation, and his sense of replaceability set him off.

- But he’s also an adult. He’ll try to make peace with himself before talking to you about it.

- Post-"Arcane-tamed" Viktor observes you, tries to read your signals. He’s irritated but keeps calm and even interrupts the situation, pointing out that the two of you have things to do.

- He doesn’t wait long to bring it up and is straightforward: “Do you like him?”

- His jealousy is laced with sadness. The thought of losing your warmth, intimacy, and everything he has with you makes him feel empty.

- He knows he’s often absent because of his research, that it’s hard to be with someone with “special needs” because it can be limiting at times. He’s aware of his unique personality and his background. His anger quickly shifts to resignation, becoming a quiet sorrow.

- When you try to reassure him, his response is even sadder: “I know I’m hard to love. I don’t blame you.”

- When someone hits on you, as soon as you’re alone, he holds you closer. During cuddles, he breathes in your scent deeply, as if trying to memorize you in case he will ever have to remember you.

Ekko:

- At the Tree, it’s pretty normal. They share everything, and everyone is just very friendly. If someone flirts with you at the Firelight hideout, he laughs, jokes, and stays calm.

- The problem arises outside of that safe space.

- When someone from outside flirts with you, he’s stunned for a moment, but if it continues, he leaves before you can even respond.

- He knows that if he stayed, things might escalate.

- “I didn’t like how that guy was talking to you,” he blurts out when you try to talk to him, but it’s obvious the issue cuts deeper than that. His tone and downcast eyes reveal that it’s more significant than it seems.

- Living at the Tree has taken your relationship to a deeper level. You take care of the kids together, share everything, and live as part of a big interconnected family.

- The idea of someone threatening the peace of his home, his family, makes him feel like those things he takes for granted could suddenly change.

- That tomorrow, you might no longer be his “married” partner but two strangers.

Vander:

- Vander is too old to be jealous, and has been in enough strange and ambiguous situations not to overreact.

- If someone flirts with you, maybe at the bar in front of him, he chuckles to himself, commenting only after the person leaves that you’re so attractive no one can resist you.

- He doesn’t like it, but it often makes him smile to see others recognize what he sees in you.

- On the night when someone is particularly persistent or you seem to laugh more than usual, he taps his finger on the bar, contemplating what to do. When he catches your eye, he simply mouths, “If you want to go, don’t worry—I’ll close the bar.”

- It’s not about being open to a polyamorous relationship, don’t misunderstand. He believes that a relationship should be based on the fact that you actively choose to be with him, not on obligation. That’s why he gives you the freedom to back out if you want.

- When you shake your head, refuse the other person, and stay with him—maybe touching his hand at the bar when he has a moment of peace—he looks at you with an indescribable tenderness.

- “I’m glad you’re here with me,” he whispers when you’re finally alone, holding you tightly in his arms.

Silco:

- On one hand, he’s too old to make a scene, but when he sees someone flirting with you right in front of him, something inside him falters.

- Being able, after so many years, to form such a deep bond with someone put him in a state of comfort he hadn’t realized might one day be taken away.

- Suddenly, that possibility becomes real, vivid. Outwardly, he shows no emotion and doesn’t lose his composure for even a moment—because if he did, he might lose control. But inside, he feels like he’s dying.

- If you laugh a little too much or don’t explicitly reject the person, the turmoil inside him intensifies rapidly.

- He’s been through too much, and his mind is wired to “strike before being struck,” which is why he immediately becomes colder, seeking emotional distance to avoid being vulnerable.

- He’s not the king of good communication. If you try to ask him what’s wrong, he’ll dodge the question. It’ll take a lot of effort on your part to understand what triggered his behavior, to talk to him and reassure him gently, never too directly.

- You’ll need to show him, through actions, that you haven’t left and don’t plan to before he starts acting normal again—becoming more physically affectionate when you’re alone.

Jinx:

- Jinx is possessive and jealous, living in constant fear of being both not enough and too much at the same time—of losing everything she has and being abandoned by anyone who can still leave her.

- It’s in those rare moments when the buzzing behind her eyes quiets, when she’s at rest, that for a single second, just one fleeting instant, she allows herself to forget that fear.

- And then, when you’re together, and someone pays you a compliment that makes you laugh, something snaps in her head.

- Do you know them? Why are they so friendly? Why don’t you say something? Why did you stop walking? Walk, dammit, walk. Why are they touching your shoulder? Why don’t you stop them? Why don’t you stop them? WHY DON’T YOU STOP THEM.

- The likelihood that the person who flirted with you ends up found the next day with a broken limb in a dumpster is extremely high.

- But even that doesn’t calm her. When you get home, she isolates herself, spiraling into thoughts that maybe, if you could, you’d have gone with that person or followed them.

- She’ll need lots of affirmation and both verbal and physical reassurance before she calms down.

Vi:

- Her jealousy exists, it’s there, but she expresses it in a very straightforward way.

- Having been forced to grow up too quickly and unable to throw tantrums because she was responsible for her siblings, her emotions have always been carefully bottled up and dealt with through questionable coping mechanisms.

- Sure, having someone by her side now means she can’t go brawling in the streets, especially when the reason feels so trivial.

- Usually, she doesn’t even pay much attention to it, but this time, exhaustion, stress, or a moment of vulnerability probably made the situation unbearable.

- And as always, if you have questions no one can answer, the solution is probably at the bottom of a glass.

- She doesn’t want to burden you with how she feels; it’s not even your fault, and she knows it’s stupid to feel this way. But when she’s forced to confront the idea that you may not a constant in her life, that maybe you want something better, something more—at that moment, she needs to get out, to scream, to punch something, with enough alcohol in her system to pass out in an alleyway.

- She struggles to talk about it, hates making you responsible for her emotions, and hates that she has to make you worry when it’s not your fault.

- When you bring it up and try to approach her with an attitude that makes her feel reassured, she has moments of being emotionally fragile, more vulnerable than usual.

Caitlyn:

- This woman is a lady killer—it’s sadly very normal for people to get jealous of her.

- At work, during conferences, or noble meetings, she’s used to people flirting with her. That’s why, when she sees someone flirting with you, her first thought is that they might be making you uncomfortable.

- If she sees you’re actually uncomfortable, she’ll personally step in to ensure the other person leaves.

- If she doesn’t see you uncomfortable, she’ll observe you for a few minutes, becoming distracted and absent from her own conversations, lost in analyzing what she’s seeing. -However, she dislikes waiting to address issues, so expect her to ask if something is wrong between the two of you as soon as you’re home.

- Caitlyn’s issue is that her thoughts ferment. If she doesn’t address the matter immediately, each day will make her mood worse, leading to unnecessary tension.

- She might not shake off that strange feeling immediately and could remain distant until the next day, but it’s not punitive. Her emotions catch her off guard and make her colder unintentionally.

- She’ll make up for it completely the following day.

- She’ll also ensure she gets matching rings for both of you, so they can serve as a signal to others.

Mel:

- For Mel, jealousy is just bitterness.

- She doesn’t show it. Her training in always appearing reliable and cordial means she’s adept at masking her feelings. So, when she sees someone flirting with you at a gala, her gaze lingers for just a few moments before she returns to smiling at her conversation partner.

- A little passive-aggressive, with comments like “I saw you had fun” or “So, tell me about…”—but not meant to provoke you.

- She’s the first to acknowledge that at meetings and galas, one must be adaptable, charming, smiley, and captivating. She knows that flirting is often part of the façade or just a small piece of a larger strategy, so what may sound like provocation is usually her way of asking what was on your mind.

- Her bitter jealousy becomes stronger and more genuine when there’s no strategy, no deeper game, but the person continues attending events and spends all their time trying to flirt with you. In these cases, she won’t hesitate to interrupt with a firm, “Excuse us,” and lead you to the balcony.

- No scene, no lecture—just a curt and slightly sad, “I only ask that you don’t make a fool of me.”

- When reassured that there was never even the intention of doing so, she becomes almost an accomplice. Have fun (within limits), gather amusing or trivial information, and tell her all about it later when you’re alone under the sheets.

Sevika:

- Sorry to disappoint, but she’s the least jealous character here.

- Her most stable relationships have all been at the brothel. If someone flirts with you, she’ll wait until the person leaves to comment on how slimy they were or how you seem to attract everyone without exception.

- Zaun is precarious; her job is precarious; even staying alive is extremely precarious. She doesn’t have time for jealousy. To her, it wouldn’t make sense to get angry or even cause a scene just because someone flirts with you when she can’t be around much or offer you stability herself.

- She knows perfectly well that her mechanical arm, her boss, her boss’s daughter, the drug use, and the dangerous work she does make her someone it’s hard to stay close to. But this doesn’t make her insecure—rather, it makes her grateful.

- It’s your choice to stay by her side, and if you ever want to leave, she believes you should feel free to do so without fearing any outburst from her.

- When you reassure her that you’d never betray, replace, or leave her, she pulls you close with one arm, kisses your forehead, and gives the faintest smile.

- That said, if someone flirts too much and you complain about their persistence, Sevika will handle it diplomatically—by picking them up and slamming them against the wall in front of you, making sure the point sinks in effectively.

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cherryredstars · 7 months ago

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Ok so i have this fic idea where reader and mig are from different universes and reader is a scientist and one time mig and her get drunk and start talking about the multiverse and suddenly they are on the topic of what would happen if people from different universes had a baby together. (You see where i am going with this...) they end up drunkenly fucking and saying it's for "research" because they can't admit to themselves that they are in love. If this request is too complicated feel free to ignore. Thank you in advance cherry!! I hope u have a marvelous new year!! 💕

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Penetrative Sex, Mentions of Oral Sex, Mentions of Animal Testing (for science), Breeding Kink

A/N: Thank you, love! I hope you're well!!!

You know there is a process.

And you know this isn't it.

There are supposed to be hypotheses and written out procedures. Dependent and independent variables, a control group. Fucking hell, you should be experimenting on fucking mice. You should be limiting the margins of error, should be going with the most direct, straightforward pursuit for results.

And yet...

You don't stop Miguel when he pushes you back onto the couch. You don't pause or even really think when he's pushing your pants down your legs, placing kisses along the skin as he goes. You lift your hips to aid him when his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, shivering when his warm breath fans over your exposed sex. If this experiment was in any sense proper, you would get straight into it. Cut out all the unneeded steps. But you can't help but pull his head closer to your aching core, craving the way his warm tongue laps at you. If you weren't already drunk, you would be drunk on this feeling alone.

But god, nothing has even been more satisfying than doing the work. You know the data would be void in a real experiment. The trials bleeding into each other hardly make for adequate data, but the way you beg him for more is involuntary. It feels too good, to have him desperately thrusting into you. It makes your mind numb, and everything you know about your life's passion is erased. The only thing that fills your head is the words Miguel grunts into you ears, promises of fucking a baby into you. Vows to make you bloated with load after load of his cum. That all it'll take is one of his orgasms to make it happen.

You guess that is a hypothesis in itself: Miguel O'Hara can get you pregnant with just one orgasm.

Too bad he's too desperate to find out if that hypothesis is correct. Because he doesn't stop at one. No, he keeps going. One after the other with no breaks in-between. But you guess that's to be expected, he is a man of science himself. A passionate one at that.

He's almost crazed in the way he overstimulates himself. Sweat beading in his hairline as he grunts down at you, watching the way he creamy cock slides in and out of your abused pussy. You've lost count of how many times you've come alone, but you know based on the way your body shivers and jolts that it's far more than you've ever had before. It's almost painful now, the way your next orgasm rips through you and shatters your soul again. You let out strangled breaths as you fight through the aftershocks and the continued pleasure of Miguel's cock slamming against your cervix. You swear you black out before he finally stops, your eyes and mind groggy as he pulls your hips flush against his as he spills into you.

You can feel him trying to push deeper into you as he pants ruggedly, his cock twitching against your walls until he's milked dry. Even when he's done filling you, he stays connected. He collapses onto you, breathing in the linger smell of sweat and sex on your skin.

"Got to make sure it takes."

Well, does the process really matter if you get the desired result anyway?

Part 2 Part 3

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yan-maid-cafe · 8 months ago

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Yandere Scientist

Imagine being taken care of by a yandere scientist...

Lev was a down on his luck scientist. He had been obsessed with marine biology since he was a young boy. Researching various forms of aquatic life, it was his passion. So when he got out of college and got a job as an assistent at one of the biggest marine biology facilities in the country. Slowly climbing the ranks until he became a researcher of his own.

But he felt the passion slowly begin to die. It wasn't the deep sea expiditions and discovering long forgotten species like he had expected. Instead it was mostly busy work. Look at these scales, watch this video, go to this lecture. It was a drag. Nothing like the life he wanted for himself. And he couldn't escape it. Life felt like a drag...

He just wanted to end it all...

Than something unexpected happened. He was doing his standard report on his recent findings when he got a sudden call from one of the higher ups, the ones who rarely spoke to anybody. They told him that he was selected for a top secret project and wanted to know if he was in. His curiosity got the better him and agreed, filling out all the NDAs and paper work immediantly. What could be so important that he needed to sign all of this?

He was escorted to a new lab, being told it was where he would be staying for the forseeable future. He was confused by what assignment he had been given. But than he saw it. He saw you...

In a small holding tank was a creature he had only ever seen in myth. A large fish like tail that appeared to have been torn up with large gashes in the tail and a ripped caudal fin, all wrapped in water proof bandages. Or at least the best they could wrap it. But from the waist up was a person. They looked human, except for the scaled texture on various parts of their skin, the webbed hands, and fins in place of ears. They were scratched up there as well, with wrapped up arms and even a damaged facial fin. They were a merfolk.

One of the higher ups told him the story. How a group of fisherman went to a new area by their home to fish, but when they went to leave something had gotten caught in the propeller and when they looked again there was just a large thing of blood. They believed that you had gone to investigate the new boat only to get caught in the propeller when they went to leave. Which left your body scared and damaged. Though they had no confirmation, mainly due to the fact there seemed to be some kind of language barrier. With the merfolk only speaking in chirps and chatters, leaving them unable to get anykind of information out of you.

So that just left Lev's new job. He was meant to take care of you until your body healed while also observing you. It was a nice change of pace from the boring life he was used to, and there was something so thrilling about being on an assignment that so few people knew about. But he didn't expect thing to change so much...

There was something about you that just made him feel alive. Maybe it was your cute face or childish curiosity. There was just something there that he adored. He could spend all day watching you. Just witnessing you play with the various bath and water toys he had bought you in his off time. And he couldn't stop the ache in his heart whenever you struggled. Having to stop swimming when the pain in your tail became too much to bare, or when you're unable to control your swimming due to your damaged caudal fin leaving you to bump into the glass of the tank constantly. He just wanted to stay by you, he just wanted to care for you. You were all he had anymore...

So when he was called into a meeting with the higher ups, he was in shock. They believed you were healed as much as you could on your own, and it was time for them to step in. That some of the scientists had been making a prosthetic tail fin, something meant to replace your caudal fin. And that once you got the hang of the prosthetic they'd let you return home. He couldn't believe it.

When he got back to his lab, he threw everything on his desk to the floor. They couldn't do this to him. Not after everything you two had gone through. What did they think would happen? Did they just plan to chip you like some kind of animal and let you back out? You were almost killed once already, they were just throwing you back into the jaws of death. You hadn't even been around danger in months, almost a year. You couldn't function on your own in the cold dangerous ocean. You couldn't function without him. And he couldn't function without you either. You needed eachother, what would you do seperated?

He was snapped out of his thoughts when he looked over at the tank. How long had his hand been pressed against it? But that wasn't what he cared about, all he cared about was your webbed hand on the other side of the glass. Pressed to the same spot as his. A broken laugh spilled from his lips as he pressed he cheek against the glass, tears in his eyes as he spoke to you. Uncaring of whether you could understand him or not.

"I-I knew it. I knew you felt the same. You don't want to go back to that cold dark place. You want to stay with me too. I just know it. They won't take you away. They can't take you away. I'll take both of us out of the picture before I let them rip you out of my arms. My world. My life~..."

#yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere oc #male yandere #yandere scientist #mermaid reader

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viiiiiiiiiin · 9 months ago

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How they confess their love for you !! PT. 3

Includes: Nami , Law , Kid , Caesar , Ace , Sabo , Doflamingo , Rosinante.

Pt. 1 , Pt. 2 , Pt. 3 (here)

Masterlist

Cat Burglar: Nami

She could tell , but she was good at hiding it. She felt like she didn't deserve you , so she never tried to make a move.

Until her feelings continuously grew and grew. She couldn't stand it.

Why did you make her feel like this ? You were so kind to her , but so was the rest of the crew. Why were you different ?

To her , you were special. She'd find herself looking at things in stores that she thinks you'd like.

One day , she brought one of those things to the Sunny after a big battle.

She was worried about losing you , but she knew you could handle yourself. But you got injured. Very , very injured. She was extremely worried because you've been out for days.

She came to your bedside and placed a jewel on the bedside. She sat on the bed next to your sleeping form and started talking to you as if you could hear.

Little did she know , her presence awoke you.

She told you how she felt and called you stupid for getting so hurt. While she was crying , you placed your bruised hand on her arm and told her you felt the same.

She was so surprised that she slapped you and started shaking you violently for worrying her.

Surgeon of Death: Trafalgar D. Water Law

At first , he thought something was wrong with him. He stayed up for nights on end trying tor research what could be wrong with him.

He looked up his symptoms in any book he could find. He knew a lot of illnesses because he was a doctor , but this was foreign to him. It worried him. Was it something like White Lead ?

He continues searching. Heated body (similar to a fever) , heart skipping beats irregularly , clammy hands , etc.

The only conclusion he could draw was the love sickness that any former Empress from Amazon Lily had.

But he wasn't an empress. Then , it clicked. He was in love. He wasn't sick , he was just LOVE sick. For you , no less.

He talked to Ikaku about how he felt and she squealed happily at his confession.

She bombarded him with advice , flowers , snacks , etc. She told him to just tell you.

When he gathered the courage , he did just that. He brought those flowers to your desk and waited for you. When you came in , the anxiety set in.

He cleared his throat and nervously confessed his feelings for you.

You laughed and told him you felt the same. He felt like a weight was lifted from his chest.

Eustass "Captain" Kid

Similarly to Law , he thought he was sick. He stayed in his office for DAYS , mostly to avoid you.

He thought you were sick too. How else did he feel sick around you ? You were contagious.

He told Killer about his sickness and he laughed his ass off at him.

Kid yelled at him and told him to stop , but he didn't.

When Killer calmed himself , he told Kid that he was a dumbass. That he wasn't sick , but in love.

Why would he be in LOVE ? THE Captain Kid !

He denied it and shooed Killer out.

But Killer pushed him to tell you. Every. Day.

Eventually , he caved.

When you brought him dinner , his mouth spewed out all he felt. He turned extremely red and angirly grumbled.

That was until you kissed his chin and told him you felt the same.

He turned even redder and shooed you out of his office.

Caesar Clown

He didn't actually understand why he fell in love with you. Was it your power ? Your looks ? Your influence ? He wasn't sure.

Everyone noticed. He would literally stumble around and make mistakes whenever you come around.

Monet teased him about it often. He shut down everything she said and would yell at her for even suggesting that he liked you.

He's had hookups and such before , but he's never fallen in love with any of his flings. He was a master scientist , why would he need love ?

But he fell for you.

Hard , actually.

He tried his best to avoid you but it never worked. You were stronger than him , so you had to protect him. That was your job.

While working in another part of his lab , Monet just straight up told you that he's in love with you.

You laughed and told her that you knew. You followed her to his current location , and you both told him what you conversed about.

He was embarrassed as hell and yelled at both of you.

He shooed Monet out and talked to you in private.

He , nervously , told you that it was true.

You told him you felt the same way and shocked the hell outta him.

Firefist: Portgas D. Ace

It was SO obvious to the entire crew.

He would become nervous and a blushing mess around you.

Even Whitebeard noticed.

Ace didn't , however.

He was never actually in love. He has had hookups , yes , but never a significant other. He didnt feel as if he deserved love.

But you made him feel like he did.

You were so sweet to him and would love him like he was your lover.

Marco , Thatch , and Izo would tease him about his little crush on you. Anytime they did , he denied it.

But Izo told you one day while you two were hanging out.

You told him that you felt the same way.

Izo and Thatch pushed you two together and got you both to confess in the kitchen

When you both confirmed that you were dating , the entire crew threw a party.

They just wanted an excuse to party. Sigh.

Flame Emperor: Sabo

Koala noticed before he did , but he noticed a bit after.

He chose not to act on it , however. He was too busy with the Revolutionary Army for a relationship.

But Koala was OBSESSED with the idea of you and him dating. She would continuously tell anyone who would listen about how much she shipped you and him.

She even told Dragon.

Dragon supports.

One day , Koala sets you two up in the kitchen of the current Revolutionary base.

She locks you both in there and leaves , waiting for you both to confess.

You confessed first because he wouldn't budge.

He told you he felt the same.

Hours after being locked in there , you both had fallen asleep together in the corner when Koala came to get you both.

She took pictures and showed them to Dragon.

Heavenly Demon: Donquixote Doflamingo

He knew he was obsessed with you. He always wanted you close , would kill anyone that was brave enough to confess to you , etc.

He's had many flings (men and women) , but he threw them away like they were toys.

But you were different to him.

You were headstrong , brave , and quite strong. It intrigued him.

How you held onto your dreams like they were part of the last meal you'd ever eat.

How you were so kind , even if he degraded you and hurt you.

You always came back.

One day , he called you to his throne room. While you sat in front of him , he offered you a place in the family as his Queen / King / Royal.

You weren't allowed to deny. If you said no , he would cut your head off. But you didn't even think of that.

You were in love with him too and told him so.

Now , you're the Queen / King / Royal of Dressrosa alongside your king , Doflamingo.

Corazon: Donquixote Rosinante

When you joined the Donquixote Family , he knew he had to get you out of there. Just like the children.

He normally wouldn't care about the others in the family because it wasn't his mission. However , your heart wasn't in the same place as theirs.

It intrigued him.

You were kind , smart , caring , and you took care of Baby 5 , Buffalo , and Law as if they were your own.

He immediately fell in love with you.

When taking Law away from Dressrosa , he took you with him and explained everything.

While Law slept on an island one day , he confessed his feelings to you by the fire he started.

He was red in the face and extremely nervous. He even lit himself on fire.

After dousing him in water , you told him you felt the same.

But smacked him and told him to be careful because he hurt himself.

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loveraging · 1 month ago

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𝐌𝐲 𝐂𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐞𝐚

𝘚𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳 𝘙𝘦𝘪𝘥 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Summary: you always drink tea in the evenings. Spencer always watches you, admiring from a distance until he finds the courage to admit what he knows to be true. For now, though, he's content in the serenity you bring, in the shape of teacups and late-night reading. Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, tea with milk (don't knock it..!), reference to a vaguely depressing book. W/C: 1.2K A/N: first fic, massively exciting! Even more nerve-wracking! Time to stop lurking though, and share a bit of my own work. :)

━━━━━━━━━･❪ 🥀 ❫ ･━━━━━━━━━

Spencer glances over the edge of his book, down the aisle of the jet, seeing you all the way in the back. You’re leaning against the wall beside the kitchenette, your arms crossed in front of your chest as you wait for the hot water, in which you’ve just put your teabag, to turn the right brown colour. He knows this dance, he’s watched it countless times. You always stare at the teacup with a crease on your forehead, watching the water like a hawk until it’s the right colour, after which you pull out the teabag. You let it rest against the edge of the cup, just above the hot water, letting it leak out most of its contents. Then you add a splash of milk, which is also done with meticulous focus. Morgan had once said you seemed like a scientist when you made your tea. Your reply had been simple: “Tea is to the body as music is to the soul, darling.”

At the end of the day, such as right now, it’s always Earl Grey, and you let the teabag steep for a while, allowing the tea to become so strong it’s nearly bitter. The milk balances it out, according to you. Spencer has never felt brave enough to try that particular brew, even though you always offer it. In the morning, however, as he now knows so well, it’s always chamomile. It soothes you, apparently, and helps you start your day. He remembers ranting on and on about the medicinal benefits chamomile has the first time he watched you make it in the kitchenette in the BAU, and you had listened to all of it, only to, by the end of his long rant, simply say: “Why d’you think I drink it?”

You’ve finally finished your brew, leisurely making your way over to where he is and sitting down in the chair beside him, the one by the window. That’s your spot, he knows now. His spot is beside wherever you sit, but he’d never admit to that out loud. You offer your cup to him, to which he shakes his head with a small smile, and you shrug as you bring it to your own lips—it’s what the two of you always do. You always offer, and he always declines. It’s a nice little ritual. The other part of that ritual is that you finish your tea in complete silence, and over the months, he’s learned to keep quiet during that. You’ve never outright told him to shut up, but you don’t really reply to him when he talks. You hum and nod, but it’s not a real conversation. Eventually, he learned that it was because, to you, that cup of Earl Grey at the end of the day was a moment of tranquillity—complete serenity, your whole body in restful repose. A moment to let the day wash away and to gather your thoughts. Now, he enjoys it with you, whenever he can.

When you’ve finished your cup, you put it down on the table, which is Spencer’s sign to shuffle in his seat until he’s in the perfect position for you to rest your head on his shoulder—it took him a while to perfect that one, but he’s got it down pat now. His elbow is on the armrest so that his shoulder is at a slope, and his legs are crossed so he doesn’t unconsciously bounce them up and down and accidentally disturb you.

Normally, when you rest your head on his shoulder, you cross your arms in front of your chest before closing your eyes. This time, however, you do something different. Slowly, your hand moves behind his elbow until your forearm is hooked around it as if you’re about to walk arm-in-arm. It stays like that for a moment as you ask, “What are you reading today, then?”, which is the question you always ask. It’s another part of this ritual: you ask what he’s reading, which is his sign to explain the book, to which you always tell him to read a bit to you, and as he does, you fall asleep.

“East of Eden, by John Steinbeck,” he says, and you nod despite your head resting against his shoulder. He’s about to explain the plot of the book when you suddenly move your hand and start drawing small circles on his skin, languidly brushing your fingers on the inside of his forearm. He, quite phenomenally, instantly loses all train of thought and can only stare at the way your hand caresses his arm where his sleeves are rolled up.

“What’s it about?” You ask, quietly, which only adds to the intimacy of the situation.

“You’re making it a bit difficult to focus,” he murmurs and your hand pauses. He immediately regrets ever saying anything.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No. No, definitely not,” he says, before clearing his throat as he tries his best to summarise the book through the haze in his mind, while your hand resumes its dance. “It’s—it’s about this dangerous rivalry between two generations of brothers, similar to Abel and Cain from the bible. It’s mostly about the endless contest between good and evil.”

“Cheery,” you mumble, making him laugh softly. “Read it to me, would you, sweetheart?”

As if he’d ever say no. “The cemetery was deserted and the dark crooning of the wind bowed the heavy cypress trees…”

Your fingers keep drawing circles, slowly but decisively, as he reads from the admittedly depressing chapter. As the minutes drag on and Spencer realises he can’t remember a single thing he’s just read to you, your hand draws lower and lower, until your fingers are tracing the lines in his palm. He keeps glancing over as if he can barely believe what he’s seeing. And then, like the grand finale to a beautifully slow buildup, you push your fingers between his until your hands are fully intertwined.

He knows he stutters over a few words, he knows his breathing audibly hitched, but you don’t comment on any of it. You simply keep your hand where it is and wait for him to react: for him to reject or accept it. He accepts it wholeheartedly, he’s more excited about this than anything that’s ever happened to him, and the only way he knows how to tell you is to squeeze your hand as decisively as he can.

You squeeze back, and he continues softly reading to you.

Fifteen minutes later, he knows you’re fast asleep. Your grip in his hand has gone a bit slack and your breathing is rhythmic and even. He’s not reading anymore, now just staring at your intertwined hands and marvelling at the fact that this is happening. Finally, finally, he’s getting somewhere with this. All that patience, all that waiting for you, that admiration that he had from the sidelines, it has finally cultivated in this. He only hopes that it will continue to grow.

And if Emily tries to slyly take a picture and Morgan nudges JJ with a sly look, Spencer pretends not to notice any of it. He’s too busy staring at you anyway.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid fic #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader

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lucimaaie · 26 days ago

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stay safe ✧.* spiderwoman au

pairings - ellie williams x fem!reader

summary - ellie’s had a crush on you for a while, but her busy life as spiderwoman stopped her from talking to you. that is until fate forces her hand.

warning - I finally proofread something yayy

The classroom had the capacity to drive Ellie mad. Scratching of pencils against papers, monotonous talk from the professor she really should be listening to, side conversations, all of it. Even the chill of the air could give her a panic attack, amongst all the others things on her mind.

That was all nothing with you around. She barely knew you beyond the fact that you always sat in the front row, more attentive than her. She could see the highlighted, detailed notes even from the back row. The coordinated outfits even when you’d tried to be lazy that day. Something about you was comforting and she had no idea why. Maybe she just being a creep.

“Drawing her again?” Ellie’s head snapped up toward Jesse. She shut her notebook quickly and glared at him.

“It’s not her.” She ran her fingers through her hair as she sat back in her chair. She glanced as you oblivious to their conversation. That was you, focused to a fault. Too determined to be at a place where half the student body just wanted the credit. She admired that.

“Oh, so you like to draw more than one girl?” Jesse tried to slickly pull the journal over to him but Ellie's hand shot out to stop him. “Damn,” He smirked as he pulled his hands back.

“Shut up.”

“I'm just saying, you should talk to her one day.”

“I’m not doing that.” She opened her notebook and scribbled something word adjacent to get the professor to stop glaring at her and Jesse. Another glance your way and there you were hand moving faster than hers to catch every word.

“And why not?”

“I-I.” Ellie paused, trying to come up with a valid excuse. She had many of them. She was a vigilante that ran around in spider-themed blue and red spandex and she had no life at all besides that. Oh, also school and work so that she wouldn’t drown in debt and end up homeless, many really. “I wouldn’t know what to say.” That was also true. “And I don’t know anything about her.” She glanced at the drawings she’d put detail to in the margins.

It was creepy when she thought about it. The number of drawings she had of you in her notebook this semester alone. She was ashamed there were other notebooks from other classes you’d coincidentally taken together.

“That’s why you should talk to her.”

“Just..focus, you big doof.” Ellie gently, or what she thought was gently, punched Jesse arm. Forgot her own strength, oops. She snorted when he still groaned, earning them both another look from the professor.

Ellie swung her legs back and forth as she tried to whistle. She’d almost got it down. The night air was freezing and the thin layer of spandex she wore didn’t help. She leaned back on her hands as she waited for something to do.

The moment she started to accept that she was bored, sirens went off below her. “Shit—“ She said, pulling her mask over her head and shooting a web on the building across her, using it to swing her body into the air after them.

“What’s going on?” She said as she landed, walking towards the police captain. She wasn’t aware he was your dad when she first met him. It was only when she saw him pick you up and that she put the pieces together and fixed her short-lived rivalry with him. Totally not because he was your dad. That was like 40% of the reason.

She frowned as your dad looked up at the tall building above you with a face opposite of his usually composed nature. Ellie followed his line of sight. Her heart almost dropped to her stomach. She saw you dangling from the hands of a big familiar lizard, screaming for your life. They were other people, scientists all in white coats, who were far from the edge but their screams could be heard overlapping yours. “I just a little talk with Spiderwoman. Any cops and I drop the girl,” He dangled you further into the air, causing the crowd below to gasp.

“You have to go up there—“

“Already on it.”

Ellie could feel her hands shake as she climbed up the building. Between the people watching and you looking down at her helplessly, the pressure weighed down every inch of her skin. This not how she wanted to talk to you for the first time.

“Alright, I'm here.” she walked slowly towards the Lizard..or Dr Connors..or whatever he wanted to go by now. It didn’t matter at the moment. “You let the people go and we’ll talk, fight, whatever you want, big guy. Just let the people and-” She stopped her from saying your name. “and the girl go.”

“Big guy? surely, you haven't forgotten my name."

"Dr. Connors, is that it? That's what you wanna be called, right? Dr. Connors, put the girl down and let the people go. We'll talk after- NO!" Ellie almost launched her body forward after you slipped an inch from his grip. She huffed as he began to laugh at her panic.

"You think this is funny?"

"Yes, yes, putting her down now." Ellie watched as you fell onto the ground and scrambled to run towards the door. Her eyes lingered as she watched you disappear into the building with the others. You were safe.

She was fuming when she turned back to Dr. Connors. How the hell did he get out? She didn't have time to question it as she pushed into the wall and forced into a fight. She'd tried her hardest to capture him using her webs but he was stronger, using her as a glorified crash dummy. She gasped for air as she was pushed into the ground. her eyes darted around, looking for a solution when the sound of a thunk caught her attention.

Ellie frowned as she saw you drop the microscope and step back from the angered lizard. You weren’t supposed to come back. She groaned as she lifted herself up. "No, no, no-" She shot webs all over its (his?) back like as a sort of straightjacket. She kept going until he couldn't move against the material and was stuck to the wall. She caught her breath briefly before holding out her hand. She swallowed as you took it with no hesitation. She tried not to freak out as she wrapped her arms around your waist firmly enough to be able to carry you. "I'm gonna get you down to your dad, okay?" She said softly.

"Okay." You nodded, panic in your voice as you shut your eyes. She was careful to land gently onto the police car. Her eyes never left you as she watched your dad help you down and take you into his arms.

She shook her head at the claps as she hopped down on the floor, holding her side. "Please, get your guys up there before he breaks free." She said to your father, who still held you close to him. She had a feeling that would last. He gave a appreciate nod and muttering something to another cop.

She was getting ready to leave when she heard you running up behind her. "Spiderwoman!" You yelled after her, voice still shaky with nerves. She turned around to face you. "Hey-" Ellie cleared throat. "Hey," She said deeper this time, hoping you wouldn't recognize her voice. "Are you okay? Did he hit you?" She took a step closer, hands hovering over you before she let them fall to her side.

You nodded. "I-I'm fine now, thanks to you. Are..are you? You took a lot of hits-"

"Oh yeah, I'm fine. You see the other guy?" She quipped, shifting on her feet. Please laugh.

"Thank you for that. I know hear that a lot, but thank you.” Ellie could've melted at your words paired with your breathless laugh. She heard it quite a few times a day and it was nice to hear, but it wasn't why she did it. Still, hearing it from you..did something to her.

"I.." She trailed off.

You stepped closer, tentatively wrapping your arms around her. She accepted almost immediately, breathing deeply into the hug. She couldn't remember the last time she'd gotten one. She cleared her throat again as you pulled back a few seconds later with another thank you. "Stay safe!" Ellie yelled after you. She groaned as she watched you walk away. "Goddamn it," This crush wasn't going anyway any time soon. At least she'd finally talked to you, just not as her.

thank you for reading!

#ellie willams x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #ellie williams #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #alternate universe #ellie williams au

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scififettuccine · 5 months ago

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Homelander x SupeTeen!Reader

Idk ya'll Homie has really been getting on my nerves recently. I wasn't exactly sure where I was going with this one at first, but I LOVE the way it turned out. It was a doozy but it was SO FUN to write! This isn’t proof read just yet so please don’t yell at me💀

Summary: You meet your biological father for the first time at Vought Tower after your adoptive mother's unexpected passing...he's not exactly what you expected.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Homelander (Obviously), death of a parental figure, mentions of death, manipulation tactics, awkward parental conversations???

Being a Supe had never been easy for you, though, luckily you had never been forced to live in a lab. Soon after you were born, one of the Vought scientists had taken you in as her own, -due to the fact that your biological mother had died during childbirth- directly going against Vought's policies. She was found out eventually, to no one's surprise...but this breach in policy gave headway to a new experiment. So, she was allowed to keep you and raise you as her own. You were raised as any other child would be, but you were treated with extra caution...and being the only Supe in school wasn't exactly a cake walk. But the worst thing you had experienced was a little bullying, but your doting, caring, adoptive mother put an end to that rather quickly by talking with the school board. The first 15 years of your life were...tolerable, if not ideal. It was supposed to stay that way...until your mother was found dead at her place of work.

It had only been two weeks since your mother died. In those two weeks, you had been relocated and told, verbatim, that your father was one of the most iconic Supes in the world...Homelander. Now? You were sitting in The Seven's meeting room at Vought Tower, anxiously toying with the handle of the swivel chair you were sitting in. Part of you was still just...numb. Everything you had ever known had been ripped away from you seemingly overnight. Any other child would be over the moon...but you? You were just...detached. You were pulled out of the endless depths of your own thoughts when a voice echoed off the walls of the room.

"Hey there, kiddo!"

You looked up from your anxious fiddling, and were met with the blindingly white smile of your biological father. You did your best to give a convincing smile back, sitting up a bit straighter in your seat. His presence wasn't exactly the most comforting. He tilted his head to the side a bit when you didn't respond.

"You're Y/N...Right? Hopefully we didn't get the wrong kid...that would be awkward, wouldn't it?" Homelander asked with a laugh. He sort of stopped in the center of the room, looking you up and down, like he was trying to evaluate you...to decide your worth. You nod sheepishly.

"Yeah...yeah. That's me." It honestly didn't help that you were the age that you were...it made it more awkward somehow. Homelander didn't say anything for a moment, almost like he was waiting for you to say something else. When you didn't, he sort of chuckled.

"You're not very talkative, are you?" He asked. You had opened your mouth to respond, but he cut you off. "I guess that's understandable. Meeting your old man for the first time is no small feat..." He paused for a moment as he evaluated your expression. "I'm sorry to hear about your mom...tough stuff there, kiddo." You took a breath when he mentioned your mother. It was all so fresh...and there were so many things you had recently learned that she had never told you. You didn't even know she wasn't your biological mother until after she died.

"Mmm...Don't be sorry...not your fault."

Oh, the unknown irony of that statement.

Homelander let out a small scoff and frowned. Admittedly, the frown looked incredibly fake...almost like he was mocking you.

"Still...I can't imagine what you must be feeling. I mean, to find out that she was keeping so much from you...after she died...? That must pack an even worse punch." You sort of stiffened in your seat. You weren't exactly stupid...you could read his tone. He was hiding his insults towards your mother with a cruel, mock sympathy.

"She only did it to protect me...I know she did. She wasn't a bad mom, she was amazing, actually." You respond, almost matter-of-factly, your eyes glowing red ever so slightly. "I know raising a Supe couldn't have been easy for her...she had her reasons." It was incredibly hard to talk about your mother in any way, considering she had only died two weeks ago. Homelander sensed your tone, and put his hands up as he noticed the flicker of light in your eyes. It suddenly became clear to him that you couldn't control your powers, which almost made him smirk.

"Hey now, of course she was...Absolutely no hard feelings towards your mom...But I know I would have never kept things from you like that. And registering you at a public school, knowing you're a Supe? That's just...cruel." You were going to continue defending your mother...until he mentioned school. That was something you couldn't exactly convince yourself was a great move on your mom's part.

"School was...a different story. It was rough." You said, pulling your legs up onto the swivel chair so you could hold your knees to your chest. Homelander nodded as he took a few steps closer to you, his hands now at rest behind his back.

"So I've heard...I spoke to your therapist." That comment turned your stomach a bit. Wasn't everything you spoke about with your therapist supposed to be confidential? Homelander noticed the slight change in your expression. "Don't worry, Y/N...I didn't dig into any of the gritty teenager things..." He chuckled, "I was just curious to learn about your school situation. You're a sophomore now, right?"

"Yeah...I will be. In the fall." You said quietly. Homelander smiled, where he now stood beside your chair at the point of the uniquely shaped table.

"Well that's fun, isn't it?" He asked as he pulled out one of the other swivel chairs and pulled it towards him. "One more year and then you're one of the big dogs." You nodded, watching his movements as he sat down, facing you. Everything about him just seemed so...strange. Even the way he moved. It looked almost calculated...and was mildly unsettling.

"I guess..." You said quietly. You sighed as you rested your chin on your knees, grabbing onto the table to reluctantly turn your chair to face his...it was only polite.

"You don't seem too thrilled..." He started, his blue eyes meeting the identical set that you possessed, "Was school really that bad?" That was more of a rhetorical question on his part, he knew everything about you.

"The teasing sucks...They call me 'Laser Eyes'..." Homelander stifled a laugh when you said that, to which you narrowed your eyes.

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry!" He said with a chuckle, "That is the stupidest insult I've ever heard!" Homelander took a moment to stop laughing before he looked back to you. "Look. I'm not laughing at you, kiddo. I would never. But Laser Eyes...? Really? They couldn't come up with anything more original? I mean...Even I'd be hesitant to insult you considering you could just laser them in half." He said. His smile was almost manic looking.

"What?" You asked, almost dumbfounded. "I would never...I could never." You said. You pulled your chin off your knees, your eyes still narrowed.

"Why couldn't you? You're a Supe...aren't you? I mean...mommy swooping in and bribing administration to take disciplinary action against those little shit stains isn't exactly making you out to be the strongest person..." You almost immediately sat up correctly in your chair.

"She bribed the administration...?" You ask softly. Homelander gave a mock frown as he noticed your eyes become glossy.

"You didn't know? Gosh...How much was she keeping from you?" You swallowed as he spoke and tried your best not to cry. The last person you wanted to look pathetic in front of was Homelander...Especially considering his earlier comment about it not being a good look that your mom always had to swoop in and save you. "Awe..." He started, scooting his chair closer to yours. "Don't cry kiddo...It's not your fault that you're so lost...It's hers." Your eyes met his once again, a tear slipping down your cheek, which you quickly reached up to wipe away.

"Lost?" You ask. Homelander nodded.

"Well, most Supes your age, with your abilities usually already have a professional presence...Or at least know how to use their powers correctly." He said, tilting his head to the side ever so slightly. "I mean, had I raised you? Had you not been wrongfully stolen from me after you were born? You'd already have a place in the Supe community, followers...maybe even a contract with Vought. You wouldn't just be floating in your own little bubble...You'd have a group. A family." Something in you broke when he spoke. Your mother had stolen you from your biological father? And had he raised you, you wouldn't be so...you? So lonely and misplaced? You couldn't help the tears that slid down your cheeks. It was as if your entire life had been flipped upsidedown.

"She...S-she really kept all that from me?" You asked. Homelander tutted softly, almost pitying you. He stood up and held out his arms.

"Come here, kiddo..." He said softly, with a tone of empty sympathy. You almost immediately stood up and buried your head in his chest. At this point....What else did you have? Who else did you have? He chuckled softly as he wrapped his arms around you, his hug firm, considering he was so much larger than you...yet comforting, despite the strange material of his suit.

'It's alright, Y/N...You're right where you need to be. We'll get you up and running with those powers of yours in no time..." He said softly, resting his chin on top of your blonde hair. He caught the reflection of the two of you in the large window that lit the room and his grip tightened, almost possessively. "You're not alone anymore...got it? You've got your dad to keep you company..." You nodded against his chest, sniffling.

"Got it." You responded softly, hugging him a bit tighter. Maybe this wasn't so bad. Maybe Homelander, no, your father was what was best for you. How could you have been living in the dark for so long without realizing it...? You were truly lost. But everything was okay now. You were finally safe, in your fathers embrace.

Homelander smiled wickedly at his own reflection in the window before he rested his cheek on your head. Finally...he had you. His own child that he had been trying to get his bloody hands on for years...Losing another Vought scientist was a necessary sacrifice in the bigger picture of his perfect narrative...and it all started right here. With you. His child. He smiled as he pulled away from the hug, his hands gently squeezing your shoulders.

"How does a milkshake sound, huh? I know Planet Vought has a double chocolate one that's yummers." You smiled and nodded as he moved his thumb to wipe the tears from your cheeks.

"I love chocolate." You said with a small laugh. Homelander chuckled as he turned you towards the door of the meeting room and started walking, his firm hand on your shoulder urging you forward.

"I know."

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I hope ya’ll enjoyed! I left it open for more parts so totally let me know if you’d be interested in reading more. Writing for Homes is always a questionable adventure 💀 Until next time, Adieu!

#homelander x reader #homelander #the boys #the boys fanfic #the boys fanfiction #billy butcher #vought #the boys season 4 #the boys fandom #homelander x male reader #homelander x fem!reader #writer

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dead-girl-tells-stories · 11 months ago

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DP x DC Prompt: The Watchlist

Batman has a watchlist. A list that contains every individual who could become a rouge and a contingency plan for if they did.

And while they, his children, often make fun of his paranoia and him for having it, they totally understand why he did. They lived in Gotham, for Christ's sake. Where everyone’s just a pin drop away from being the city’s next big villain, forcing the bats to scratch their heads while playing cat and mouse with a sicko for a good few weeks. And while they won’t admit it, the list has helped them a few times.

But that won’t stop them from making fun of any of the list’s new developments. Because you see, there was a new list. And it wasn’t just a watchlist. No, no, no. It was The Watchlist.

It was a new development after he and Robin went on an out-of-state mission to investigate some town in bum fuck nowhere Illinois. And it was under some pretty tight security as well, so they were expecting something good, like mad scientists or evil mayors. Not profiles of the kids who lived in the town. And while there were a few metas and vigilantes that made the list interesting, by the end of it all they just seemed to be teenagers.

Until they saw Damian. They hadn’t seen him since he came back from the mission with B. He looked tired. Like ‘Tim hasn’t slept in a week and is surviving on just coffee beans’ tired.

“Ah, I see you all have found it. Good. A few of them will be arriving next week as they’re a part of Gotham Academy’s student exchange program. At least three of them will be staying in the manor with us. Father will need you all to be on standby and to be ready for any possible scenario. Please, for the love of all that is good, do not encourage them in any way, shape, or form. And please do not dismiss them either. The outcome of doing that will be much worse. Is there more that I should add? Yes. Will I? No, because you won’t understand. Not until you've seen what I have.”

The demon child sighed, then looked them dead in the eyes. “Godspeed to us all.” Then walked away.

Okay, they were scared now.

#dp x dc crossover #dcxdp #dp x dc prompt #dp dc crossover #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #Batman and Robin went to Amity Park to investigate two mad scientists who were dealing with Lazuars waters #and instead #witness teenagers dealing with The Horrors (tm) like it was an everyday thing #because for them it is #Bruce KNOWS that the moment any of these kids crack its the end of the world as they know it #i like to think that all the kids are liminals and have powers but some aren't out about it as others #Danny knows that there's an outside entity in Amity but they don't seem hostile #protective even #so he leaves them be #i'm honestly not too sure what the profiles would look like #but i do know that they would look pretty normal until you either read into them too much #or was there to witness the shit he has witness #he's scared of those kids #but also want to protect/save them #cause the GIW still exist #and while not bad parents Fentons they aren't really good either #none of the parents are tbh

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specshroom · 10 months ago

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★ - Some assistance

You and your boyfriend are lounging on the couch in the living room, winding down after a long day. He's drinking his evening tea and reading while you unsuccessfully distract yourself by flicking through channels on the TV. You decide to just come out and ask what you've been meaning to ask for awhile now.

"Kento? Do you think you could make me squirt?"

This poor man chokes on his tea and almost messes it on his home shirt. He just looks at you with a face that says "Why would you ask me something like that so suddenly?" You just look at him deadpan waiting for his response. He clears his throat and composes himself, realising it was a somewhat serious question and his girlfriend (soon to be fiancé, hopefully) wasn't just playing some dumb joke.

"Well... I'm sure I could try, Y/n. But why bring that up so out of the blue, if you mind me asking."

He responds, as polite as always. He makes you feel so safe in his presence it's almost supernatural.

"Uh... I've just been thinking about it for awhile, I guess." He places his mug on the coffee table, the one that says "Live, Laugh, Love" in exaggerated curly font, courtesy of Gojo. He doesn't know why you insist on making his tea in that mug but he drinks it every time anyway. He brings your legs into his lap and lightly massages them silently asking you to continue.

"I'm just curious to see if I can is all. Whenever I've tried to do it myself, I always just get too sensitive and stop, but... If I had someone else do it, I think I might actually be able to."

You explain this to him almost like a scientist explains their hypothesis, like you've thought about it for awhile. He rubs under your shins and thinks for a bit. he would very much like to be the one to make you squirt and he's confident in his abilities but he also doesn't want you to be upset if you end up not being able to do it.

"I also just think it would be really hot if you made me squirt."

That breaks him out of his thoughts with a disbelieving huff.

"The problem is that when I get sensitive I'm gonna be yelling for you to stop out of second nature. But you can't stop Kento, you have to keep going until I either squirt or say the safe word. Can you do that, Baby?" Nanami looks up at your serious face, you really have thought about this quite a bit. He nods his head, sealing the deal. You just stare at eachother for a moment longer, the TV still going in the back. You break out in a smile, unable to keep the semi-serious atmosphere.

"Can- can we do it now?" You ask the man on the opposite end of the couch while you try and stifle a giggle.

Nanami smiles and pulls you closer to him by your legs. You yelp as you get yanked into his lap where he attacks your neck with kisses. He hoists you up and starts walking to the bedroom. Once he sets you onto your shared bed, you start removing your shirt and shorts while he rummages in the cupboard for a towel that he puts down on the bed before undressing himself.

You're almost shaking with excitement and anticipation. Nanami sits against the headboard in nothing but his boxers, placing the towel on the bed in front of him. He watches as you turn to him with that sultry look in your eyes. You crawl your way up the bed on all fours until you're right between his muscular thighs. Your hands glide up his thighs and waist, you kiss him with need and he reciprocates. You break the connection to feel yourself up infront of him and sensually take off your bra. You present yourself to him and kiss him again before turning around and pressing your back to his chest.

His hands go to your waist to gently squeeze and rub there. You spare no flare when taking off your panties and you adjust yourself so that both your legs are wide open, slightly bent and his stronger ones are over yours, forcing them to stay open.

"Put your legs like this so that it stops me from closing mine when it gets too sensitive."

You say as you help him into the position you want. Nanami chuckles and bends down to say lowly into your ear.

"You really have thought this whole thing through, huh?"

You flush and nod your head as his hand moves down your body to where you want him the most. His touch is gentle at first, lightly stroking down your clit and lips, gathering wetness with his fingers. He starts to work his finger into you and gently rubs your clit with the other hand, coaxing you to melt into his touch. You start moaning and groaning with the pleasure your wonderful boyfriend is giving you.

With both his hands working on your pussy so diligently, it's no wonder your first orgasm washes over you pretty quickly. Nanami keeps going at the same steady pace after you cum and it's the first out of the ordinary occurrence in this session. You usually would get a grace period after you cum to come down from the high but you and Nanami have a goal. The fact that you get no chance to come down at all is fucking with your brain and the fucked out feeling is just multiplying every second his strong hands play with your pussy.

Nanami lays back a bit, forcing you to also lay back and expose yourself a bit more as you begin to writhe and squirm. One hand is still diligently circling your clit as he works his two middle fingers into you, slamming into that perfect spot inside you over and over and over again. You get louder and more frantic as the second orgasm hits you. Your head falls back on Nanamis chest as you groan his name.

"Uuuuh Fuck! Feels so good Kento, soo good, so good, s' good, s' good, s' gud." You mumble and moan to him. Your second orgasm hits you full force and the pleasure doesn't stop or slow down, in fact it only gets more intense. He doesn't even slow down despite you're kicking legs and bucking hips.

Nanami eventually brings you to a third orgasm, now things really start to feel sensitive and your whines and cries of overstimulation get louder but the man doesn't tire. He keeps going, mumbling things like "Cmon, cmon Love." And "You can do it Darling".

Before you know it the fourth wave hits you like a train, this is where you get frantically desperate as you realize he isnt even slowing down. You're now actively trying to get out of his iron hold, trying to close your legs just a little but his strong thighs keep you open for him. You're squirming and struggling and crying out.

"Wait wait wait wait!".

Your pussy is so raw and sensitive, you almost beg him to slow down but the man is going even stronger now. He's more precise with his movements, touching all the right spots with just the right amount of force to make you weep.

"Wait Ken! It's sensitive, stoooop stopstopstop!" You hands go to his to try and make him slow down a little but Nanami isn't having any of that. You set out a goal for yourself and clear rules. He is going to make sure you reach your goals like the good partner he is.

He cages your arms against your chest with one arm hugged around you while the other still goes at your clit, rubbing frantic but deliberate circles into the pink flesh with his callous palm. The wet slick sounds of your pussy being bullied by the man you love are drowned out by the sounds coming from your mouth.

You're screaming now, legs shaking and kicking, not nearly strong enough to budge against Nanami's thick thighs forcing them wide open. Your entire body begins convulsing and spasming, you swear you feel like you're going to pee but you don't even have the mind to be concerned about that. You can only scream an intelligible jumble of pleas at this point as your nails dig into his arm.

"Cmon Honey, just one more f'me, your doing so well."

The praise makes you go even dumber as you're quickly brought to the end of your rope. The last strand snaps and a tidel wave of violent hot pleasure comes crashing down on your entire being. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your screams turn to silent hiccups and overwhelmed chokes.

Your body convulses violently and your back arches off Nanamis chest as he holds you tightly to his chest. It's by far the most intense orgasm of your life and you don't even register the jet of clear liquid shooting out from you untill you hear Nanamis loud groan at the sight.

"There you go, that's my girl."

You're brought back to earth and let out a long groan as Nanami presses up on the hood of your clit to force more squirt out of you, the feeling is even more euphoric than you thought it could ever be.

Nanami pats your pussy, making sure he gets every last drop out as your wetness trickles down your pussy and ass onto the towel Nanami set down, which was definitely not enough to keep the bed dry. You drop your body completely limp onto Nanamis chest as you both catch your breath.

Nanami releases your arms and your hand immediately goes to cup your swollen, abused pussy with a whine. Nanami chuckles and runs his hands down your back and around your waist, soothing you, bringing you down gently while mumbling little praises. You curl up on top of him and dig your face into his neck with another small whine.

"Love you s'much." You mumble into his hot skin. He chuckles at you once again.

"I love you too, Baby."

-★

#i thaught this was such a hot idea #Nanami isnt usually my type so i hope i did him justice?#nanami kento #first Nanami post LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #nanami smut #jjk x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami x you

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galactic-magick · 2 months ago

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Be Proud: Viktor x Reader

Summary: Viktor's newfound fame as the co-founder of Hextech has taken its toll on your insecurities.

Words: 2.1k

Warnings: mentions and allusions to body dysmorphia/eating disorders

Author's Note: I starting writing this to play with the idea of how founding Hextech probably gave Jayce and Viktor celebrity status in a way and how that would affect them and people involved with them. It ended up turning into a vent fic about my body image issues as well, to the point I almost didn’t post because it got so personal. But I figured there’s people out there who relate and might find solace in reading this as I did writing it.

You’re so proud of him. Everything he’s accomplished, everyone he’s helped. He’s living his dream, creating the future, and he’s being listened to and valued by topsiders. This is all you’ve ever wanted for him, and you would never think of standing in his way.

Which is precisely why you’ve never told him how insecure it all makes you feel.

Before Viktor got involved with Hextech, life was so much more predictable. You both could live your days together in peace, never being in the spotlight and rarely interacting with the highest of powers in Piltover. Life was hard, sure, but nothing you couldn’t manage without some tasteful spite and stubbornness. Viktor always knew his background would be a stumbling block for him up here, and you really weren’t much farther ahead, being from a title-less family with half your relatives from the Undercity.

But you’re not used to being around such glamour and poise. As Viktor becomes more involved with the Council and the wealthier areas of Piltover, making Hextech gadgets per their requests and being invited to fancy events, you’re left mourning simpler times. You’ll never get used to people coming up to you on the street while you bring your husband some lunch, or people staring at you during conferences when you’re just there to support him. Everyday citizens want to know and analyze everything about you, simply because you’re married to Piltover’s finest scientist.

You don’t like to bother Viktor with how it’s affected you, especially since he’s so good at handling it all. He’s always been so proud of who he is—where he came from—because he’s had to be. He’s not phased by the new fame as the co-founder of Hextech, and he easily shrugs off any comments people make about his past or his looks. To him, celebrity status is just a slight annoyance that occasionally distracts him from doing his work in the labs. But for you, it’s brought back every insecurity you’ve ever had about yourself.

You’ve stopped joining him as much at dinners and banquets because you fear they’ll judge how you look in a dress. You’ve stopped chiming in to interviews so you don’t say something stupid and embarrass him. You’ve stopped visiting him so much while he’s working so people won’t talk to or see you on the street.

You’ve started picking yourself apart in the mirror again, fussing every morning until you might cry. You compare yourself to the beautiful specimens that surround you, perfect in face, body, and manners. You start wondering if people judge how you speak or how much you eat. You wonder if people gossip about your family origins or your marriage. You wonder if you really, really, tried—if you could look like them. If you could be like them.

Viktor has started to stay back from some events with you lately, claiming Jayce is better at being the face of Hextech anyway. But tonight marks the five year anniversary of the company, and Councilor Medarda insisted there be a grand celebration.

The feast and dance will be held in her personal mansion, with the rest of the council and all the investors invited, as well as several reporters and journalists. Jayce will give an update address on what they’ve been working on, and what they hope to achieve by the bicentennial Progress Day.

This is something you can’t get out of and you know it. You drive yourself crazy trying on every dress in your closet, hoping to find something suitable for the affair. Half of them don’t even fit, which sends you into a further spiral, and the ones that do still don’t look good enough in your reflection.

Now the floor is covered in failed attempts at getting dressed, negative thoughts taking over your mind. Thoughts you know aren’t true, but you can’t stop thinking them.

He’ll be embarrassed to be seen with me.

I’m not good enough to be here.

I should eat less.

If I tried harder I could look like her.

I should check how much I weigh again. What happened to that damn scale?

They only invited me because they have to.

They probably talk about me—

You’re so deep in your head that you jump when you see Viktor leaning against the door frame, eyes full of love and concern.

“Are you alright, darling?”

You look down at yourself, wearing the last dress you had in your closet. It fits perfectly, but that’s part of the problem.

Viktor moves towards you as tears well in your eyes. He wipes them away with his thumbs, smearing some of the makeup you put on earlier.

“Talk to me,” he says.

“No.” you reply, avoiding his gaze.

“No?” he chuckles. “Why not?”

“It’s so stupid,” you sigh. “I thought I recovered from this. I should be able to handle this.”

“Handle what?”

“All this publicity shit!” you finally look at him. “I hate being watched and talked about and judged for what I say and look like all the time. I hate being asked about personal things and nearly passing out because I’m scared to eat in front of people. I hate all these superficial gatherings that are probably just for show-”

“You’re alright, you’re alright,” he cuts you off, dropping his crutch to the floor and wrapping his arms around you. “Why didn’t you tell me you’ve been feeling this way? Why didn’t you tell me it was getting bad again?”

You sniffle, “I...I didn’t want to bother you with something that doesn’t seem to bother you. You’re so good at being confident no matter what people say about you.”

“You think it doesn’t bother me?” he questions. “You think it doesn’t hurt me every time I overhear insults about me or my home, let alone when they say it to my face? You think I don’t notice that most of these people wouldn’t blink an eye if I died if it wasn’t for what I can offer them?”

He squeezes you tighter before slightly pulling away to look at your face, “I’m just better at hiding what it does to me, darling. Having a drive to prove myself is not the same as confidence. Now,” he kisses your forehead, “Tell me why you’ve been in here for over an hour and still aren’t ready, hm?”

“Well,” you gesture to the piles on the floor. “Those ones don’t fit. I must’ve gained more weight but I don’t really know for sure because I can’t find the scale. And those ones I just don’t like. And this one does fit, but it’s tight and I’ve never worn something form-fitted to an event before. I don’t want to deal with comments about my stomach sticking out or my arms looking puffy or whether I’m proportioned to their tastes.”

“You truly believe they’ll say those things?”

“I don’t know what they’ll say. That’s what’s so scary.”

The tears return, falling slowly down your cheeks.

“Darling,” Viktor says softly. “No one will ever think or say anything as horrible as what you think and say about yourself. I promise you that.”

You nod, allowing him to soothe you, “I know.”

“I need you to tell me when these thoughts are getting bad. Do you understand? I never want you to go so long feeling this way ever again,” he tilts your chin. “Do you understand?”

“I understand.”

“Good. Now, if you really don’t want to go, I’ll make up an excuse to get us out of it. But…” he slides his hands down your curves, “...it would be quite a shame if I didn’t get to see you wearing this all night.”

“You actually think it looks good?”

“Of course,” his eyes travel down your figure. “You always look perfect to me.”

“But-”

“No buts. Listen to me,” he faces you towards the mirror. “This body has gotten you through so much. I want you to be proud. Most of these people have never known a day of true hardship, but not you. You’re strong and you’re soft and you’re beautiful, and you’re the only one I’ll ever desire.”

You smile, knowing he means every word. You try to see what he sees, remembering every time he’s showered you with praise. You know he’s never once agreed with any of the horrible things you think about yourself. You know he loves everything about you, including how your body compliments his smaller, angular one. He’s never made you feel bad about anything, so why is it still so hard to believe him?

“Thank you, Viktor,” you say, turning to kiss his cheek. “I’ll try to be proud.”

“Good,” he nods. “Now, no more worrying about the scale or falling into old habits, alright? I want you to enjoy yourself tonight.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll try,” you laugh a bit. “You know what happened to it, though, don’t you?”

“Of course. I threw it out months ago,” he smirks. “You think I didn’t notice you checking it every single day?”

“You’re too good to me,” you bend down to pick his crutch up off the floor and hand it to him. “Let me just fix my makeup and we can go.”

“No more crying it off, alright?” he chuckles.

Jayce and Mel are waiting for you, welcoming you both to the celebrations. You can already feel the eyes and cameras on you, but you hold your head high, squeezing Viktor’s hand extra tight.

It’s been awhile since you’ve attended an event, but they always seem to go the same. Investors and council members come up to chat, mostly directing their questions towards Jayce. Sometimes they act as if Viktor isn’t even there, which boils your blood to the point you’ve said something on multiple occasions. Viktor has told you many times that he doesn’t mind being behind the scenes, and that Jayce is better at talking anyway, but you can never fully let it go. If people are going to gossip about him and your lives but not actually talk to him, you’ll gladly take the liberty of giving people a piece of your mind. You’d rather focus on lifting him up than dwell on your own self-consciousness, anyway.

One thing is different this time though—being that Viktor is a lot more handsy tonight than usual. He’s not normally one for public displays of affection, sticking to hand-holding and a few reassuring touches here and there. But tonight he can’t keep his hands off you.

It doesn’t matter what you’re doing, whether it be listening to the conversations, answering questions, or participating in the feast and drinks. He always has a hand on your waist or your thigh, gliding to your hips and stomach every so often. It seems mindless, as if he does this every time you’re out together, but you know he’s putting in a special effort to make you feel good.

And damn is it working.

You feel more at peace than you ever have since entering the public eye, proud of who you are and who you’re with. Who cares if people are whispering about their opinions on the Zaunite inventor? Who cares if there’s pictures of you in tomorrow’s tabloids with unflattering angles? Maybe all that matters is you’re having fun with your husband, and he’s making you feel oh so beautiful.

The night goes on for hours, attendees fizzling out until there’s only a handful left. You convince Viktor to dance with you before you leave, leaning against you and swaying simply. You wrap your arms around his neck, wiggling your fingers into his hair. He looks at you with such admiration, such devotion.

How could you ever doubt yourself under the gaze of those eyes?

“You lovebugs ready to head out?” Jayce approaches you both. “Viktor and I have a meeting with Heimerdinger in the morning.”

“Ah, yes, we do,” he briefly looks away from you. “But...perhaps we could push it until the afternoon?”

Jayce rolls his eyes and chuckles, “Yeah, yeah, I’m sure you guys are in for a long night. Have fun.”

He waves and walks away, and you burst out laughing.

“Is it really that obvious?” Viktor jokes, returning his full attention to you.

“Viktor, darling, you’ve been all over me since we got here. I’d say the entire city knows how bad you want me tonight.”

“Maybe I want them to know,” he grins, sliding a hand up your dress and squeezing your thigh.

“Viktor!” you gasp, playfully slapping his hand away.

“Alright, I suppose we can go home first,” he pivots around, moving towards the door and extending his arm to you, “Shall we?”

You nod, quickly returning to his side.

Jayce was right, it’s going to be a long, lovely night.

#viktor arcane x reader #arcane viktor x reader #arcane x reader #viktor arcane #arcane viktor #fem reader #plus size reader

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ronwestbreeze · 9 months ago

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you're gonna go far | 10

pairing: jake sully x neytiri x tsu'tey x fem!human! reader summary: a scientist arrives on pandora (unwillingly) a year after the exile of the rda. now she must deal with the likes of a clan leader, a great warrior, and a thanator rider. word count: 3.9k

read on AO3

You eventually decided to forget your body for now and leave it to Norm to take care of it. All you were focusing on was burying yourself further into work.

Which included going back to tending to your garden by planting and replanting a few seeds and veggies. Then there was checking up on the baby who was bound to be due soon, you’d spend the last few hours of the day with her until eventually, you forced yourself to sleep in the Avatar Compound.

That was your schedule throughout the next couple of days. Along with that, you took on more work to distract yourself such as restocking more link shacks and taking care of the land along with the other avatars. It was one of the many deals the humans made with the People in exchange for letting them stay instead of going into exile. It kept you busy whenever you didn’t need to tend to your garden. Any free time that you happened to have would’ve been filled up with something else to keep you busy.

The only peace you got was at the end of the day when you were in the tank room.

“I’m sorry I’ve been gone, little one.” You said to her the first night you returned to Hell’s Gate. “I was unfortunately a bit distracted. But now I’m here and I’m never leaving you that long again. That is, until you’re born of course.”

There was a subtle shift in the stomach, bringing you a slight sense of comfort that she still remembered your voice. You didn’t know why it was comforting though. You wouldn’t be the one to hold her in the end. You probably wouldn’t be able to see her much once she was with her rightful parents…

Stop—stop.

Then there was foraging.

You enjoyed wandering around the forest to both discover new things and become well acquainted with the familiar routes. Going to your mother’s grave, finding the shack you had been trapped in, and even venturing further out just to see what was out there. Things you’ve missed.

It would’ve been nice if there was some comfort to all of it. But it made you forget. Made you think less. That was enough for now.

Until you eventually had to return to the clan’s base for Mo’at’s checkups. And not wanting to anger the Tsahik, you went anyway despite your reservations about it. All you could do was pray you didn’t run into Jake during the short visit.

So when you saw Tsu’tey with his brother inside her hut, you were strangely relieved which quickly made your stomach churn at the very thought.

His brother, Arvok, noticed you first as Mo’at was working on his abdomen. Surprisingly, he offered a white yet tired smile your way, “Ah, my savior the dreamwalker! I thought I was dreaming before.”

He ended up sitting up a bit as he spoke but Mo’at forced him to lie back down, “Hold still.”

“No need to thank me. It was nothing.” You mumbled, face impenetrably impassive.

“Nothing?! I heard you died because you saved me. How is that nothing?” Arvok sat up a little again only for his head to be forced back down by an irritated Tsahik.

You tried not to acknowledge the younger male’s words. Tsu’tey watched you for a beat before nudging Arvok’s shoulder gently, “Mawey, tsmukan.”

Not bothering to try and understand what he had said, you muttered again, this time sternly, “As I said, it was nothing—frankly, you should be more worried about yourself and the person who stabbed you.” Finding the new topic, you quickly steered the conversation in that direction. “By the way, who injured you in the first place—”

“That is none of your concern,” Tsu’tey said simply with his face somewhat screwed into his usual scowl.

You nodded expectantly, “Yeah, I thought so.”

Arvok then nudged his arm, hissing at him in Na’vi. Tsu’tey didn’t appear happy but spoke again, “It is clan business. Something that you should not concern yourself with. You have been too involved enough as it is.”

“Ha!” Mo’at huffed earning a glare from the Olo’eyktan. She did not offer more and continued tending to Arvok.

“Well,” You frowned, clenching and unclenching your hands. By then you realized you were still standing while the other three were much closer to the ground. “I did get poisoned by this clan business but you’re right. I suppose it is none of my concern.”

At this, Mo’at finally stood and scowled at the two of you—more specifically Tsu’tey, “If this is how your interactions will be during this time, then I must ask you to leave and come back when you are ready to speak with her correctly.” She gestured for Arvok to sit up—albeit slowly—and dismissed him, “You must continue resting. It will be a long while before you can hunt again.”

“Yes, Tsahik.” With a grumble, Arvok slowly pushed to his feet, the wince clear on his youthful features. But he looked better. Better than you had expected someone to have been stabbed to look. Then again, Mo’at must’ve been working on him while you had been unconscious—dead—so he had time to get better.

He held his abdomen gingerly as he walked past you, sending you a quick nod before he finally left. “You!” At that, your attention turned back to Mo’at who was now pointing at the spot Arvok had been, “Sit. Now.”

Obediently you sunk to the floor and allowed Mo’at to start her work on you. Tsu’tey surprisingly didn’t leave and just lingered in the background much to your dismay. But your body wasn’t tense because of his presence. You were constantly glaring at the doorway, waiting for him to show up at that point, waiting with your guard up, waiting for yet another fight with that damned asshole.

“You shouldn’t be putting so much strain on this arm. You should be resting as well, let yourself get adjusted to your new body.” Mo’at instructed sternly as she applied new green mush to your arm.

You winced, both at the subtle sting in your arm and the easy way she mentioned your transference. As if it was another day. You couldn’t tell whether that pissed you off or made you quite relieved that at least someone was making a huge deal out of it. You’d already cried everything out of your system. Now you just wanted to allow yourself to feel numb.

Just until everything came back up again. If it ever would.

In the corner of your eye, Tsu’tey shifted onto the mat further behind you.

Mo’at pressed her hand against your arm, “Have you buried your former body yet?”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, “Why are you asking me that now?”

“Some questions will be hard to answer. It is the way of life.” She replied easily as she began unwrapping the bandage on your shoulder. “But it is okay to not be ready. Are you not read, dreamwalker?”

“Sure.” It was all you offered.

You left the body to Norm now. You made him swear not to tell you where he planned on putting it. And you were okay with that.

You were fine—you were fine—you were fine—

Eventually, after enduring a long silence—which you were quite comfortable with—Mo’at finished and stood. You moved to get up as well but she pressed her hand down on your shoulder and shook her head, “You speak with Olo’eyktan first. Then you leave.”

With that, she stepped out of the hut and you, after great reluctance, looked over your shoulder at Tsu’tey to find him slightly sitting hunched over on the ground, playing with something in his fingers.

You weren’t going to speak first. He wanted to speak with you. You would wait for him.

And eventually he did, “When Mo’at brought up the potential—that you could be our fourth mate—what did you think?”

The question startled you. It was the last thing you ever thought he’d ask. And the fact that it was Tsu’tey himself asking you this and not Neytiri or hell, even Jake.

But you remained on guard anyway, “Do you care?”

At that, he raised his gaze from whatever was in his hands to look at you, “Many people have made their opinions known about the matter. All but you. It’s as if your voice is drowned out by an unforgiving storm. I am asking you, dreamwalker. What do you think of it?”

For a moment you considered your words carefully. The conversation wasn’t adversary so you lowered your defense, only by a little bit. And as you thought about your answer, you realized you hadn’t even had the chance to think about what you truly thought about the idea of being their fourth mate. Neytiri had mentioned them looking for one long ago but you never imagined it would be you. You never imagined—

You never imagined you’d be loved.

And because of that, it was simply never in the cards for you. Even if there were moments where you—

“Why does it matter anyway?” You glared down at your fingers, watching as your nails dug into your palms. “Can you honestly imagine us as mates? I mean have you thought about it yourself? Can you even imagine Jake and I as mates? After the other night? Tsu’tey, I think the answer’s pretty clear.” You faced him, jaw tight and your voice quiet despite your steeled spine, “I’m too broken. And it would be cruel—I am not cruel and I’m not selfish enough to allow you three to drag yourselves to the bottom because of me. And that’s what I think. It’s quite simple actually—”

“To your human mind, yes.” Tsu’tey shook his head and stood, turning his back to you. He paced for a moment, eyes searching the room until he finally spoke. “But it is about duty. If Eywa has favored you then I must do my job as Olo’eyktan and honor that. If you are our fourth—”

“You don’t know that.”

“You are right, I do not!” He hissed but stopped, almost as if he were restraining himself.

You clenched your hands together again, glaring down at the matted floor. For a moment, the two of you were silent. This had to be the longest conversation you and Tsu’tey had ever had. And of course, it was about something heavy, something complicated, something difficult to even comprehend. Why couldn’t it have been something simple? Why couldn’t things be simple?

“I have failed my people.”

A beat went by and you looked up, wondering if that was all he had to say only to find his gaze on you. Intense and yellow. Unreadable yet uncomfortable to receive, nonetheless.

But his face was gentle as he spoke. His voice was quieter, “And in some ways, I feel I have failed our Great Mother. I feel I have failed my mates. My son. My unborn children. My mother. My brother. My father. Perhaps you do not understand it, dreamwalker, but it is my sworn duty to do what I must for my clan. To be the leader that they deserve. And I am not.” He stepped forward until he was standing in front of you and dropped something into your hands.

It was pretty. A handwoven string of beads and gems, almost too gorgeous to belong to someone like you. You held it limply in your hands, not wanting to touch it any further.

“I am not a good mate.” He continued, now his face unreadable. You weren’t really sure what yours looked like at the moment but you hoped it didn’t convey what you felt at the moment as he spoke.

Utter dread. Shock. And pity.

“If I had proposed to you, I would have thought that I had done right by the Great Mother.”

He said it so simply. Proposed? Tsu’tey? To you? How come he didn’t appear affected when he said these words? Why was it you that was struck frozen by this revelation?

Perhaps he was good at hiding it. Perhaps you were too.

Tsu’tey knelt in front of you and looked down at the string, his face still a mask. “I would take care of you, just as I do with my other mates. I would treat your children as my own, I would be okay with not being in love with you for the sake of duty.” Unconsciously, your fingers wrapped around the string as you took in his words. Very deliberate, very careful, very real. “But you would have said no. And I would be okay with that too. Because I cannot commit to my duty. Because I am a bad Olo’eyktan. And…” The words seemed difficult to spill out from his mouth but he forced it out anyway. “And I am not cruel enough either, dreamwalker.”

For a moment, you did not say a thing. For a moment, you wondered if you were dreaming. For a moment, you wondered if there could be a world where you and Tsu’tey weren’t hostile to each other like now. You wondered if there could be a world where you’d look at him as something more.

Because in the end, you appreciated his honesty. Frankly, that was one of the best things you liked about the Na’vi. They weren’t like humans. They didn’t hold anything back because they didn’t see a reason to.

And it made your next words clear and firm, “Your search for worthiness isn’t on me, Tsu’tey. And a proposal definitely wouldn’t have been able to fix that.” You frowned and glanced down at the string and then back at him, “That wasn’t a proposal, right?”

Tsu’tey stood then, his tail swishing behind him. “I suppose it was. In a way.” He looked at you expectantly, “And your answer, dreamwalker?”

He held a look that told you he already knew your answer. You stood as well and handed him back the beaded string with yet another impassive mask, “No. That is my answer. But you knew that.”

Wordlessly, he took the beads back, his gaze never leaving it. You stood there for a moment, feeling exhausted once more. And again, Tsu’tey allowed himself to appear the same.

Too tired for this world. Too tired to carry on.

You steeled yourself away and stood straighter, “So you agree. This isn’t what Eywa wanted.”

At that, his ears twitched, “We do not know what she wants. It has always been that way. And it will remain so.”

Nodding, you moved past him and toward the entrance, only to stop short. Your brain was muddled, your emotions were tangled, and yet you spoke clearly. “If your deity is as great as you all say she is, then I’m sure she wouldn’t want you to suffer.”

Without waiting for a response, you left. Not daring to look back. Not daring to ponder questions you’ve never thought about until now.

Enough. Enough of all of it.

“Any day now.” You mumbled, staring bleakly down at the table as Norm was checking the ultrasound. It was weird being several inches taller than him now when in human form he had quite the height over you, “We just have to watch her closely now.”

Norm nodded, “Good, good. That’s great news. I’ll let the parents know. You good staying here for a bit?”

“Always.” You watched over the tank as Norm left the room. Tucking the tablet under your arm, you placed your hand against the class, “Can’t wait to meet you, finally. I wonder if you’re gonna be as quiet when you’re born.”

The silence was suffocating, and So were the tears. They had finally come.

God, you were so angry.

Was this really all you were worth? An obligation? Something so worthless that you needed empty protection? Was that all they saw in you? Was that all you’ll ever be to them?

You sank into a nearby chair, allowing the silent tears to fall.

It wasn’t what you wanted. You didn’t want to be the outsider—the intruder. All you wanted was to save a bunch of trees and now you’re here. A stain. An inconvenience. Blood red on a perfect white canvas.

This baby girl didn’t deserve someone as shattered as you. She deserved the loving parents that claimed her from the beginning. Protected and kept away from your storm.

“I hope this world doesn’t hurt you, little one.” You wiped at your eyes, beaten and bruised already.

Norm eventually came back moments later. You hadn’t gotten up from the chair. He saw your dried tears and cleared his throat, “Jake said he’s already on his way, um,” He appeared careful and gentle as he spoke, “I’ll take over if you need a break.”

“You don’t have to.” Was your attempt at a protest.

But he shook his head adamantly, “No, I will. You’ve—it’s been pretty rough for you. It’s the least I can do for…”

You frowned as he avoided your gaze.

“I could’ve done better—more to save you—”

“Spellman, you're fine,” You shook your head and stood. “I don’t blame you—couldn’t if I wanted to. You’re the only one that has my back here. Well, maybe besides Neytiri.”

“Are you going then?” He asked as you walked passed him.

“Yeah, I’m gonna try to cool off. Maybe go on a walk.”

“You sure? Don’t get another chunk of your skin bitten off again. Or poisoned.”

“Ha-ha.” You responded dryly.

Deciding you wanted fresh air, you left out of Hell’s Gate and went into the forest.

You had marked the places you passed with small white strips in the past, tying them to smaller branches. It allowed you to venture further away from the base this time. And by the time the sun began to set, you found yourself at the waterfall, the same one you were at with Tsu’tey before.

And you stayed there. This time you went toward the waterfalls’ mist surrounding you the closer you got to the waterfall itself. The water moved up toward your waist until you were practically floating above water.

For a while, you stayed like this. Until night came. You stayed like this until your hair stuck to the back of your neck.

Eventually, you passed through the waterfall. Breathing out a long and delicate sigh.

These waters relaxed you. These waters made you forget.

Once you reached the other side of the waterfall, there was a rock large enough for you to hoist yourself on. And sit there. You didn’t know how long you’d stay there and you didn’t care. The world outside of this place didn’t matter to you. For a while, you just wanted to forget. To become stone.

Half alive and half buried in the ground.

That is until the world called for you to come back. Until the world wrapped its grip on you and yanked you back into reality.

Until something whizzed past your face, cutting some of the strands from your unbraided hair.

And now across from you was a spear lodged into the stone. Whoever had thrown it had great strength. Whoever had thrown had meant to kill you.

Instantly, you froze. Heart pounding against your chest, blood rushing to your ears.

“Demon!” AN unfamiliar voice shouted further away—possibly on land away from the waterfall. Quickly, you lowered yourself on the rock. Most of the water from the mountain and mist hid you, so there was a chance that the attacker couldn’t see you. “Come out and I kill you!”

You didn’t move from the rock. From what little you could hear, the voice spoke in Na’vi as if he was giving orders to someone. Which meant this guy wasn’t alone. The many splashes coming toward you only confirmed that.

As quietly as possible, you slid off the rock and toward the spear, yanking it out of the wall with what little strength you had left. A shadow then passed you as you ducked behind the rock just as a figure stepped through the waterfall. He was wearing strange armor and his war paint was different from what you had seen the Omatikaya wear. Which also told you that these warriors that surrounded you were from a different clan. A clan you were sure that weren’t reluctant in having to kill the likes of you for being human.

The warrior had an arrow pointed and ready. Fortunately, he hadn’t seen you yet.

But before you could take your chance at escape, a quicker shadow to the right dived through the falls, aiming another spear at you.

It was so quick, you hadn’t heard the other warrior coming and barely dodged the sharp end of her spear as you slid off the rock and into the deep waters.

The spear didn’t slow and sunk into the water with you. You swam away from the two, going deeper underwater until you weren’t able to be spotted. You continued swimming away from the small enclave and made it to the other side of the waterfalls.

Praying that the mist continued to cover you up, you came up for air and climbed onto a nearby rock. You still had the discarded spear and gripped it in your hands as you hopped onto another rock—not even stopping when you heard a bunch more splashes and shouts in Na’vi coming toward you.

Once you were sure they were far enough away from you, you continued hopping on the rocks until you finally reached land. But you didn’t run, knowing that it would make too much noise. Instead, you clutched the spear to your chest and slinked into the forest, just as how Neytiri had done it when the two of you would travel through the forest together.

Be one with the forest and all that shit.

God, you couldn’t catch one break. First Jake, then Tsu’tey, and now this? It was like the universe hated you for some reason.

As quickly and as quietly as possible, you put some distance between you and the waterfall. When you got far enough, you ducked behind a thick tree, pressing your back against it while taking in shaky breaths. You kept the spear close to your chest as if it were a shield while praying that you had been quiet enough to escape.

Something sharp pressed against the side of your neck, instantly squashing any hope you had left.

“You are loud, demon.” She spoke in Na’vi. It was one of the only sentences you recognized since Neytiri used to say it to you all the time in the beginning.

You remained still, staring at the warrior in the corner of your eye.

She took the spear from your hands and tossed it to the ground, not lowering hers.

“Where is your clan, sawtute?”

Okay, she spoke a little English. Which meant this clan had lived around humans at some point,.

“I don’t have a clan.” You gritted out shakily, “And I’m not trespassing—”

“Demon! All of you!” She hissed, the tip pressing further into your skin. “I kill you and bring your head back to my clan. The rest of you demons will follow!”

You glanced toward the spear on the ground, trying to figure out how fast you’d have to move to get it and escape.

But you nor the warrior didn’t get a chance to do anything as an arrow flew through the trees and hit the warrior in her shoulder.

She stumbled back, you took the chance and grabbed the spear from the ground.

As the warrior fell to her knees, your savior stood further away behind her. Bow raised with another arrow pointed at her.

You breathed out shakily, “It’s you.”

(i'm not adding any more people anymore!)

taglist: @doggyteam2028 @bigbootahjudy @innercreationflower @n7cje @celi-xxmoon @readerofallthingss @sillyblues @saturnhas82moons @1mawh0re @aprosiacperson @loserwithnofriends @garfieldsladybird @slutforsmut4ever @lik0

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n1ght0f-nyx · 30 days ago

Note

I love your work, could I request a fem reader with Simon / Ghost from Call of duty. If you're comfortable with it could it be smut such as accidental aphrodisiac maybe from a mission. Love confession and reader helping him through it.

note- i am no scientist i dont think there is any gases with aphrodisiac affects do not come at me i am but a humble whore

simon ghost riley x fem!reader smut

warnings/tags- smut, semi non-con? aphrodisiac, simon loves you but tries to hide it, even after you two fuck, kinda ends with angst, handjob and semi dry humping, ghost is kinda submissive under the drug effects, no actual pnv, yall fuck in soaps bed i am so sorry about how long this took ive been so busy <3 word count- 3002

The dark canopy of the woods stretched out above, dappled sunlight barely breaking through the dense trees as you and Ghost moved silently through the underbrush. You had worked with Simon countless times before, and even though the man was a legend in the field, you couldn't help but notice the subtle shifts in his behavior around you. There was something about the way his eyes lingered just a bit too long, or how he always seemed to position himself closer than necessary during missions. But you never pressed him about it—especially not when you were on a mission. Professionalism was key.

At least, it was supposed to be. As you crept closer to your target, you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Something wasn’t right. You glanced over at Ghost, his skeletal mask somehow making him more imposing in the eerie quiet of the forest. He gave you a quick nod, acknowledging the silent tension that had begun to build.

"Stay sharp," he murmured through his comms, voice gruff and low.

Suddenly, a crack in the distance—a single twig snapping underfoot—followed by the unmistakable sound of hissing. Gas. You and Ghost were trained for this; the masks went on instantly, the world around you slightly distorted through the visor.

"Ambush!" Ghost barked, grabbing your arm and pulling you behind a tree as gunfire erupted.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you returned fire, quickly scanning the area for the source of the gas. A canister lay nearby, still spewing its noxious fumes into the air. You couldn't tell what type it was, but your gut told you this was more than just a smoke screen.

"Gas masks on!" you yelled, even though you both had already secured them.

Ghost was already engaging the enemy, his shots precise and lethal. You took cover beside him, suppressing the approaching force. But the gas... something about it was different. You could feel the tension in the air, and though your mask kept you from inhaling most of it, a small tear in Ghost’s mask had let just enough of the gas slip through. You saw him falter for a split second, just before you took out the last enemy.

"Simon?" you asked, voice laced with concern as the gunfire died down.

"I'm fine," he growled, but his voice was shaky. He shook his head slightly, as if trying to clear it.

"We need to fall back to base, now," you insisted, watching him carefully. Something was off, but there was no time to analyze it here. You grabbed his arm, tugging him along as you both made a hasty retreat.

The journey back to base was tense. Ghost was unusually quiet, and though he was always the stoic type, this felt different. He kept pace with you, but you could feel his eyes on you through his mask—watching, lingering.

Once you made it back to the extraction point, the helicopter ride to base was eerily silent. You tried to focus on the mission debriefing, but your thoughts kept drifting to Simon. You could tell something was wrong, but it wasn’t until you landed and headed to the barracks that he finally spoke.

"That gas...'s fuckin' me up" he muttered under his breath as you both made your way to the decontamination area.

You paused, turning to him. "What do you mean? are you alright?"

He lifted his mask just enough to reveal the lower part of his face, and you noticed the slight flush in his cheeks. His pupils were dilated, and his breathing was heavier than it should have been after a mission. It hit you then—whatever was in that gas, it had gotten to him.

He can't help but feel a powerful surge of attraction towards you, and the usual emotional barriers that usually hold him back now seem to dissolve. As drool trickles down the corner of his lips, he struggles to focus on the task at hand - getting medical attention - while his body seems to have a mind of its own, responding to the intense physiological effects of the chemical. His voice slurs ever so slightly, and his gaze falls on you, his eyes clouding over in a daze, his hand instinctively reaching out to pull you closer.

"I'm fine," he mumbled again, though this time his voice was softer, almost... vulnerable. "But you... look different."

You blinked. "Different? Simon, you're not making any sense."

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your neck despite the cool air of the base. His mask had slipped down further, and for the first time, you saw a hint of the man beneath. His eyes, normally cold and calculating, were now filled with something you couldn’t quite place. Something deeper. Something raw.

"You have no idea, do you?" he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. "How long I've waited... how much I've wanted to..."

You stood frozen in shock, his words hanging in the air like a confession. A part of you wanted to step away, to put some distance between yourselves, but another part of you was drawn to him, his words and actions fueled by the chemical in his system. His touch was intoxicating, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. Despite the danger that was lurking within him, your heart raced at the proximity, your skin tingling with anticipation.

His pupils dilated as he moved closer, his voice husky as he whispered, "I've wanted to touch you, to feel you under me. I've wanted to taste you for so long." His fingers brushed against your cheek, sending a jolt of electricity through you as he continued, "I've wanted to make you moan, to drive you wild, to hear you scream out my name."

His words were a promise, a warning, and yet... it was also something more. It was as if, despite the chemical's effects, Simon was speaking from a deep, buried part of himself, a place where emotions ran deeper and his desires were raw and honest. And in that moment, you couldn't help but wonder, what did he really want from you? What did he truly desire beyond the surface level of lust and adrenaline?

Simon's hand slid down your arm, his touch sending sparks along your skin. You felt your defenses begin to crumble, his words and actions weaving a spell around you that was hard to resist. But even as your body responded to his touch, your mind was racing with questions - what had been in that gas? What did Simon truly want from you? And what would happen if he didn't get what he desired?

Despite the trepidation, a thrill coursed through you as Simon leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle, possessive gesture. His mouth tasted like the desert air, warm and dry, with a hint of salt from the sweat on his skin. The kiss was a slow burn, igniting a fire within you that you couldn't contain.

"Simon," you breathed, your hands reaching up to grip the sides of his mask, pulling him closer.

His grip on you tightened, his hand cradling the back of your head as his lips pressed harder against yours. The kiss deepened, his tongue dancing against yours with a reckless abandon that sent shivers down your spine. You could taste the faint hint of chemicals still lingering on his breath, a reminder of what had happened, but also the intoxicating allure that drove him to want you like this.As you pulled back from the kiss, his eyes remained closed, his face inches from yours, his breathing heavy and labored. His chest rose and fell with each ragged breath, his heart pounding against his ribs like a drumbeat in the silence. For a fleeting moment, the chaos of the world outside receded, and all that remained was this intense, overwhelming feeling between you both.

you smile and look up at him, seeing the lust and want in his eyes, you could tell he was high both off the gas and off his feelings, The hand cradling the back of your head tightened its grip, pulling you closer. He leaned in once more, his mouth inches from yours, his breath hot against your lips. The air was charged with tension, the atmosphere electric.

The mask's grip on you tightened, and you felt a jolt of excitement run through you as Simon's breath washed against your lips, the air between you both charged with electric tension. His eyes, though cloudy from the gas, locked onto yours, his gaze burning with a deep-seated craving. It was as if the chemical cocktail had set free a part of him that you hadn't seen before, a raw and primal desire that threatened to consume him whole.

With a gentle push of his face, Simon pressed his mask against yours, his lips tracing a delicate path against the edge of the visor, sending shivers down your spine. You felt your body respond to his touch, the heat between your legs growing more insistent with each passing moment. His hand, still cradling the back of your head, drew you in closer, his mouth moving in a slow, languid dance along the curves of your face.

"You," he whispered, his voice a low growl of longing, "have always been the one I want, even when I didn't know what it was." His words were a mixture of honesty and drunkenness, but it didn't matter. The sincerity in his voice, the urgency in his movements, was enough to have you drowning in the depths of his passion.

His chest rising and falling rapidly. His eyes locked onto yours, burning with an insatiable longing. Without saying a word, he reached for the zipper on your jacket, slowly sliding it down your torso. The fabric pooled at your feet, leaving you exposed to the chill night air.

A tremulous whisper escaped your lips as his hands began tracing patterns across your bare skin, mapping every curve and contour. Each brush of his fingertips ignited a trail of flames, spreading outward from the contact points. You arched toward him, craving more of those electrifying sensations.

Inside the barracks, the silence was oppressive, punctuated only by the creaking of old wooden bunk beds and the distant hum of the base's generators. The dim lighting cast long shadows, making it seem as though the very darkness itself was alive and watching.

Simon's pace was labored, his gait uneven as he stumbled through the shadows towards you. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and stale air, but to you, it was a familiar comfort, like coming home. You could sense Simon's struggle to focus on anything except for you, his eyes darting around as if searching for something, anything else.

As he reached the edge of the room, he turned back, a look of desperation crossing his features. He lunged towards you, his arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the rapid beat of his heart against your chest.

The kiss was frantic, passionate, as though they were fighting against a tide that threatened to tear them apart. You could taste the fear, the panic, beneath the surface of his emotions. It sent a thrill of excitement through you, a primal urge that told you to give in to whatever this was, this explosive energy between you.

they collapsed onto the closest bed (which just happened to be soaps), entwined in a heap of limbs and tangled sheets. Their chests heaved in tandem, their breaths coming in ragged gasps as they struggled to catch their breath.

As you leaned in closer, your hand brushed against his thigh, sending a shiver down his spine. His body responded instinctively, hardness pressing against his pants. He winced at the sudden ache, his breath quickening in anticipation of what was to come.

The leather of his belt creaked as you released the buckle, the sound echoing through the silence of the barracks. His pulse raced with excitement and nerves, his eyes never leaving yours as you slid the strap down, revealing the outline of his arousal beneath.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. There was a part of him that didn't want to know, a part that wanted to remain innocent and untouched. But another part, the part that had been screaming for release all evening, urged him to let go and surrender to the sensations you were about to awaken.

Your fingers danced across the fabric of his underwear, teasing and probing the sensitive skin beneath. He closed his eyes, feeling a rush of warmth flood through his body as his senses were awakened. His hips jerked involuntarily, seeking more pressure, more stimulation.

As you guided him out of his clothes, he opened his eyes to watch you, mesmerized by the sight of your hands moving deftly over his naked form. His erection throbbed with expectation, begging for relief from the pent-up tension.

He knew he shouldn't be doing this, shouldn't be letting things escalate this far. But he couldn't stop, wouldn't stop, because the prospect of losing control, of giving in to the primal urges raging within him, was too enticing to resist.

With a final tug, you freed him completely, exposing his throbbing cock to the cool air of the barracks. He gasped softly, his eyes widening in awe as you wrapped your hand around him, stroking him gently, coaxing forth a stream of precum that slicked his length.

He bucked his hips, urging you on, wanting more, needing more. His breath hitched in his throat as he realized the extent of his submission, the depths to which he was willing to sink to satisfy his cravings.

His eyes glazed over, his breathing quickening as you pumped your fist up and down his shaft at an alarming rate. The skin around his eyes began to tighten, his pupils dilating until they seemed to suck in every ounce of light.

His hips thrust up to meet your hand, a silent cry building in his throat. The pressure began to build in his groin, threatening to overflow as you relentlessly worked his erection.

His hands clenched and unclenched, the muscles in his arms taut with tension as you brought him to the brink of orgasm. The room spun around him, the sounds of the barracks fading into a distant murmur as everything focused on the intense pleasure coursing through his body.

His vision blurred, his world narrowing to a single, burning point. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything except feel the impending climax.

Then, in a flash of heat and release, it came. He arched his back, a guttural cry tearing from his throat as he spilled forth, the pleasure ripping through him like a wildfire. you climb over to straddle his lap, grinding your clothed cunt over his cock

His eyes snapped shut, his hands rising to massage your tits as you started to ride him. The fabric between your flesh and his dick created a maddening friction, sending shockwaves of pleasure through him.

His cock jerked beneath you, straining against the fabric to get closer, to delve deeper into the heat of your center. His breath caught in his throat as he felt the wetness of your desire, the urgency with which you sought to sate your own needs.

His fingers dug into your flesh, holding you close as you ground against him, your movements building in intensity and speed. The pressure mounted, his climax imminent.

He grasped his balls, squeezing them gently as he felt the rush of pleasure building to a head. The room around you faded to nothingness, leaving only the two of you, lost in the vortex of your combined desires.

With a hoarse cry, his orgasm shattered through him, the release so intense it bordered on agony. You rode out the wave of ecstasy, your own pleasure reaching a fever pitch as you climaxed in tandem with him.

The aftermath was a haze of exhaustion, your bodies spent, your breathing ragged. He lay there, his cock still buried between your thighs, his chest heaving with exertion. His eyes drifted open, locking onto yours, and for a moment, you glimpsed a glimpse of the real person beneath the mask, the vulnerability and intimacy that existed between you both.

It was a fleeting moment, gone as soon as reality set in. He withdrew from you, rolling onto his back, panting heavily. The silence that followed was palpable, the tension between you thicker than the air.

You sat up, running a hand through your damp hair, trying to process the events that had transpired. The gas, the adrenaline, the sheer intensity of the moment—it all swirled together in a confusing mess.

He lay there, staring up at the ceiling, his chest still rising and falling with each ragged breath. You wondered if he'd say anything, if he'd acknowledge the depth of his emotions, but instead, he simply lay there, lost in thought.

The silence grew longer, stretching out like a thin thread connecting you both. Finally, he stirred, pushing himself upright, his eyes fixed on you with a renewed intensity.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice hoarse from exertion.

You nodded, still trying to wrap your head around the events that had unfolded. "Yeah, I'm good."

He looked at you, studying your face, searching for something. After a moment, he nodded, seeming to accept whatever answer he found.

Without another word, he climbed off the bed, dressing hastily, his movements economical and efficient. Once clothed, he turned back to you, his eyes serious.

"thanks for that" he said, his voice devoid of inflection, trying to disguise his love for just a drugged favour. "Don't wait up."

With that, he walked out of the barracks, leaving you alone in the darkness, wondering what exactly had just occurred.

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blackswan446 · 9 months ago

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Could you please write about yandere who's a fuckboy? At first he was just gonna play with her reader's heart but ended up being obsessed with her. Any member is fine. Thank you so much in advance if you end up writing it!

lifetime.

→ pairing: yan!jjk x reader

→ synopsis: we live for so many years, why not make them the happiest you can?

→ wc: 5362

→ cws: kidnapping/coercion, death, funeral, sexual advances

→ notes: yay my first ask! hope you enjoy, and sorry it took so long :(

part two || m.list

jungkook was a womanizer.

at least, that's what everybody else called him. he liked to think of himself as...social. sure, he got around a bit, but that's just how young men lived. especially young men like him. born with a silver spoon in his mouth, the man was set up for success from the moment he was born. who cares if that success came at the expense of a childhood with present parents and a sense of family beyond a name?

needless to say, jungkook's reputation followed him wherever he went, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing for him. it gained him a different type of respect from other men of his status, and only seemed to draw more and more women into his addictive orbit, no thanks to his looks and suave personality. assistants, secretaries, office workers, even the wives of others, you name the woman, if she was around jungkook for a while, it's more than likely they had something going on.

what a shame he never stuck around. what a shame he would lure them in, with promises of extravagant dates, fancy dresses, and luxurious houses, all to have the chandelier fall back down on them in the form of "we're just not compatible!" although they acted sad, it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what they were really so heartbroken over. the life of their dreams was hanging just within their grasp, all for it to be ripped away and dangled over the head of another girl. anyone would be sad about that.

did it ever get boring?...sometimes. but there lived no fun without the dullness. for every batch of girls that cycled in and out of his life, there were always a few sticklers. sticklers, who didn't leave quietly, but put up a fight, refused to leave, spat insults at him, one even keyed his expensive sports car. these ones were usually paid a hefty sum to see their way out of his life, and what was funny, is that every single girl who was offered the money took it and left. they didn't even give it a second thought.

the idea of settling down sounded nice for about a year, until he quickly realized that it was easier said than done for a man of his rank. it would be far too easy to lock in with a woman that married him for his house, his cars, his fortune, than for him. he didn't need to be bled dry by some selfish woman who resorted to marrying rich after her failed acting career. so alone he stayed, or rather, lonely. he was rarely alone with himself. but he always had this aching feeling of loneliness in his chest.

that was, until one little choice altered his entire life.

"this is who we've narrowed down for the secretary position, sir. it was difficult, as there were a lot of highly qualified applicants, but these are my choices. i figured you could get the final say, if you don't mind." sehyun concluded, leaving the stack of folders in front of jungkook on his desk. sighing deeply, he looked at he pile, then back to the man before him. "are you sure you want me to choose?"

sejun nodded. "yes, sir. unless, of course, you don't want to." he clarified. jungkook shook his head. "no, it's fine. i've got it." he said, reaching for the pile. shutting his eyes, and shuffling the folders in his hands, he grabbed a random one from the middle and held it up. "this one." he declared, handing it back to sejun.

taking it from the male, he opened the file to read the contents. "who's our lucky winner, sejun?" he joked, leaning back in his chair lazily. "looks like it's [first name/last name]. sound alright to you?" he asked, looking to his boss for approval. he nodded. "sounds great to me. she sounds pretty." he remarked, smiling at his own words. with a courtesy laugh and farewell, sejun left, shutting the door behind him. after he was gone, jungkook looked at the pile of papers left behind, and tossed them in the garbage without thinking twice.

it's almost as if he knew he would never need them again.

tapping your foot anxiously, you glanced around the clean waiting room, observing the decorations, the paintings, and even taking note of the sweet smell of the room, the smell of a fresh flower garden in the midst of spring. the only sound that filled the room was the typing of the receptionist on her computer, along with the occasional conversation from the office behind her. the seconds passed like minutes, the minutes like hours, as you waited for in the chair the receptionist sent you to. why were you in a chair? who knows, you told her you had been hired, but she still sent you to wait amongst the clients. you certainly fit in with them, wearing your nicest clothes and cleanest shoes.

finally, you heard the call of your name from behind the desk, and looked up to see a man rushing towards you. "[name], i'm so sorry to keep you waiting. how long have you been here?" he asked apologetically. you shook your head. "oh please, don't worry about it. i haven't been here for long." you reassured him, smiling in an attempt to ease his worries. "well, welcome to jeon industries. on behalf of everyone, we're all very happy you're here." he beamed, leading you down a carpeted hallway to a small, messy office. "here, have a seat--i guess you've been doing a lot of that today," he chuckled, "and i'll get you setup with your badge and login information."

you nodded, accepting his invitation to sit down in the cushy chair in front of his desk. the office was disorganized, but not in a way that made you want to leave. it looked more like the office of someone who was always hard at work, rather than someone who just didn't bother to clean. 'so you're fresh out of college, right? how's the real world been treating you?" he asked, typing away on his computer before searching around for something on his cluttered desk. "so far, so good. i'm here, aren't i?" you replied, half-smiling. he nodded slowly. "right you are...alright, here's a temporary badge. we'll get you an official one once we can get the photographer in for your picture. and this," he said, handing you a yellow sticky note with some writing scribbled on it, "is your login information for your computer. now i'll bring you to your desk, and get you setup with your trainer, and you'll be good to go!" he said cheerily, standing up from the chair and heading for the door.

a long series of hallways led to your desk, which was situated right outside of a sleek wooden door, on which a gold plate that was engraved with the name "jeon jungkook". the door had glass on either side, that peeked into the office, where you caught a glimpse of the supposed mr. jeon, on a phone call at his desk. unfortunately, he looked up from his desk at the exact moment you were peering into the office, resulting in one second of awkward eye contact before you turned your head away and your eyes met the ones of a new girl.

"hi!" she grinned, "i'm aera. i work in accounting, right down the hall. you're [name], right?" she asked, sticking her hand out for you to shake. taking it, you introduced yourself. "yes, hello, it's nice to meet you, aera!" you said confidently, her kind manner easing your burning nerves. "i'll let you two get started here. aera, thank you for your time, and [name], if you need anything, you can come to either of us, and we'll help you out. alright?" he asked. at your nod, he gave one last smile before disappearing down the hallway.

aera clasped her hands. "well, isn't this exciting! i love when we get new people here. let's start your training, shall we?"

jungkook saw you. you tried to look away, you tried to act like you weren't staring him down, but he always saw the stares. it's not like he had any issue with it, of course. he loved when people looked at him, especially pretty girls such as yourself. and to think that you were just going to be sitting outside, doing nothing else but running around for his sake! he had been looking for a new distraction from his work, his life, his everything. and it looks like he just found it.

three months had passed, three months of your little desk, new friendships, and great work. the job was going great for you; of course, it was work, so it did have its downsides, but the good far outweighed the bad. your coworkers welcomed you in with open arms, despite your young age and inexperience, they respected you and valued your opinions, which alleviated about 80% of your worries.

as for the job itself, it was great. all you really did was secretary work, like scheduling meetings, booking dinner reservations, and calling other businessmen, all for the ceo.

jeon jungkook.

what an interesting man.

right off the bat, jungkook was very...friendly...to you. the first day you were there, without aera by your side to help you, he moseyed on out of his office and right to your desk, taking the opportunity to "personally introduce" himself to you, and by that, he meant saying his name and staring at you like a piece of meat as he carried on a meaningless conversation.

from then on, he was always just around. wherever you were, he always seemed to find himself. for a while, you thought he was just being welcoming. but when it didn't let up after the first month, you started to think that there were some sort of ulterior motives at play. no ceo has any reason to be getting his secretary gifts every week, nor any reason to grab the small of her waist every time he passes behind her. the questions in your head came to an end when aera revealed the young man's real self, in a serious conversation over some hot breakroom coffee.

"he's a major...manwhore!" she revealed, going on to recount all the numbers of women she had heard him being with in her few years there. "he's been with virtually every woman here." you looked at her in disbelief, and you didn't need to ask the question for her to give you an answer. she nodded slowly, staring into her mug. "i'm not proud of it..i was young, and i liked the attention. i feel so stupid now." she admitted.

it all made sense to you now, the touching, the presents, the prolonged conversations about the lobby decorations. it all clicked. he only saw you as another trophy to win and put into his glass case with all the other girls he had tainted. you wanted to be shocked, but with someone of his authority and resources, it'd be a lie to say you expected differently. it was a shame, sure, but at least you knew now.

jungkook, on the other hand, had no clue what your problem was. it didn't usually take him this long to seduce a girl. what more did he have to do? he did everything he knew of--gifts, of pretty flowers and expensive candies, having long and invested conversations together, he even resorted to the subtle-touching method. how long was this going to take?! did you have a boyfriend, or were you saving it for marriage, or were you just a prude?

as frustrating as this loss was, especially for someone who always won, there was something strange about it that he...liked? he didn't know either. but it was oddly addicting, the challenge of it. the unfamiliarity of it. of not being given into at the first smile. the need to actually try, even if it was for something so shallow,

he just liked trying.

the night had come, and left a wash of black over everything that was once bright and clear. you could see the night sky from your window, and the stars glittered like moonlight on the ocean. throwing your things into your bag sloppily, in a hurry to get out out of the office and into the cool nighttime air. you were scheduled to have left an hour ago, but a cold had set you back a few days last week, and you needed to catch up on the work that was left waiting for you.

slinging your purse over your shoulder and pushing in your chair, you walked to jungkook's door to bid him farewell for the evening. as grossed out as you were by him, it would be rude to not say goodbye to your boss, at least, you thought it was. poking your head in the door, you barely got the word 'goodbye' out before noticing something strange.

jungkook wasn't hunched over his desk, or talking on his phone, or even on his computer. instead of bidding you a cheeky goodbye, he was standing at his large window, which overlooked the city and its bright lights. furrowing you brows, you debated going further inside to ask what was wrong, but the young man had already picked up on your presence, so you couldn't back out now.

"[name]," he said, not in his normal flirtatious tone, "heading out?" he glanced at the time on his watch. "i guess so. it's pretty late." you took a few steps into his office, staying close to the door. "yeah, i was. but are you alright? i saw you just...standing there." you asked quietly, nervous that your simple question had overstepped some type of boundary.

he nodded quickly. "yeah, yeah. i'm alright, thanks...just thinking, i guess." he said, turning his body to face you entirely. you cocked your head to the side. "about what? anything in particular?" you asked, mentally slapping yourself. this is probably exactly what he wants to happen, you thought, you were being too kind to him. but you couldn't exactly leave now, you were too far in.

he sighed. "honestly? yeah. i was just thinking...what if i'm not fit for this? i mean, today, i noticed that our revenue numbers have gone down, and not by just a little bit. i mean, i hear all the time that it's normal for companies to fluctuate in their numbers, but nobody ever talks about it. and it scares me. it makes me think that i'm doing something wrong." he confessed, looking down at his shiny leather shoes.

"i see." was all you could say. what else was there? were you supposed to give him business advice? "and i have my father breathing down my neck, always reminding me that i need to have this big, important life, that i need to get married, and run a corporation perfectly, and learn french, and piano, and racquetball, and all this other bullshit, and i can barely keep my head above water!" he complained, having shifted from the window to his desk chair. he chuckled slightly, after a moment. "i'm sorry, [name], god, i get asked one question, and i go off on a tangent. you don't deserve that."

you smiled softly. "don't worry, mr. jeon. i'm the one who asked. as for everything else you said...nobody said you need to do it all at once. you're young, sir. you have a lot of life ahead of you. you have plenty of time to do all of those things, and even more things, that you can choose. you're not running out of time. and i'm sorry you feel like you are." you consoled, scolding yourself for the cliché advice you just gave.

instead of scoffing, he nodded his head slowly. "i guess you're right. i mean, i'm only 28. i won't be going anywhere anytime soon." he mused. you smiled, this time more broadly. "you've given me a lot to think about, [name]. thank you. seriously." he said, his signature grin returning to his face. with a quiet goodbye, you scurried out of the office, eager to get out into the fresh air, and away from the incidental therapy session you just had with your boss.

the next day, you walked in, and as you approached your desk, you were greeted by the biggest arrangement of flowers you had ever seen in a vase. you didn't even need to read the card to know where they came from.

that day at lunch, a pair of dainty knuckles went up to meet the sleek wood of the door. a flat voice from behind it admitted the person to the room, which they entered and shut the door behind them.

"mr. jeon."

glancing up from the paper in his hands, he met aera's sharp eyes. "aera. what can i do for you?" he asked, turning his attention back down to his work. she moved forward, to sit in one of the sleek leather chairs in front of his desk. "well, you can tell me what you and that little assistant of your have going on, for starters."

looking up, this time with much more intensity than before, he stared into her brown eyes. "what are you talking about?" he demanded. she laughed, as if it were the stupidest question she had ever heard. "don't play dumb. you know exactly what i'm talking about. you and that little puritan that sits outside of your office all day?" she laughed again, "always sending her flowers and that other bullshit. i mean, you're not a stupid man. what could you possibly see in her? she's obviously a prude, obviously inexperienced, and so boring! what a sad excuse for a woman! why keep chasing after that..." she paused, standing up and circling around the desk to where jungkook was sat, seating herself on the arm of the chair, "when you could have...something so much better, and all you have to do is say the word?" she whispered, leaning in close to his ear.

clenching his jaw, jungkook turned his head away from aera. "get out." he seethed, refusing to say anymore than that. she scoffed, standing up and placing her hand on her hip. "i--you cannot be serious. don't be shy, sir, i know you want this. all you have to do is tell me yes."

"okay, well, i'm telling you to get out, before i call the front desk and have you escorted out, by security." he boomed, standing up from his chair, sending it flying into the shelf behind him, "and don't bother coming back. not today, not tomorrow, not next week. just pack your shit and leave."

mouth agape, and standing there awkwardly until jungkook motioned for her to get out, aera stormed out, heels thumping on the floor. "unbelievable. un-fucking-believable!" she shouted, slamming the door behind her as she left. she stormed past your desk and as she walked by, spat "he's yours, you little bitch."

confused, you watched her back disappear down the corridor and into her office, where she noisily started slamming things around. jungkook came out of his office, rushing to your desk as he heard her shout at you. her obnoxious throwing and swearing could be heard as she grabbed all her belongings and left out of the back entrance.

looking at jungkook, with whom you were still not totally comfortable with, he patted your shoulder softly as he talked to you. "are you alright? i don't know what her problem is. did she do anything to you?' he asked. after assuring him you were okay, he went back into his office. you wondered all afternoon what she meant by "he's yours".

ever since the night you had caught him all stressed out, he seemed to be different. like he held a higher respect for you now. instead of passing by you by grabbing your waist, he politely excused himself. instead of extending conversations about nothing, he asked you genuine questions, and replied with interested answers. as for the gifts...they didn't really stop. but his shift in behavior was nice, you appreciated the new high regard he held you in.

as for jungkook, he had stopped looking at you like a piece of ass. he didn't see you like that anymore. see, it wasn't the first time he had been asked if he was alright by a woman. it had happened plenty of times. it also wasn't the first time he had answered with that exact thing: the fear of not living up to what he needed to be, that ate away at him every single day. but it was the first time he had gotten an actual response. not a one-word answer, not an 'oh', not a subject change. an actual response, with substance and meaning. it was weird, such a small action was the most heard and seen he had ever felt in his whole life. furthermore, it inspired hope, something that he had long given up on. and it was fucking euphoric.

needless to say, he was smitten. maybe it was destiny, or maybe his standards were just low. either way, he had never felt this way for anyone before, and couldn't imagine feeling it for anyone else. so naturally, he didn't take too kindly to someone coming in and disrespecting you like that, much less one of your closest friends! through his anger, he couldn't help but wonder, why? was she jealous, because she knew that an ugly beast hid behind her mask, and there was no changing it? or was she just that shallow?

whatever her reasons, jungkook didn't really care. all he knew is that she was a problem, one that took priority over any other issue he had. she needed to be gone, not just from the company, but from society. your heart was too golden, too shiny and beautiful to float around, unprotected from the tarnish of others.

oh, you. what would happen with you? it was already decided, at least, in his mind, that you were his and he was yours. it was that simple. you just didn't know yet. that wasn't what the issue was here. you would no doubt be upset over the tragic loss of your best friend, but who would hold you as you cried? who would hug you as you struggled to fall asleep? who would be there for you in your hour of need? jungkook would, obviously. the roles in your life were open, the role of boyfriend, best friend, provider. and he had enough love to fill all of those spots to the max, plus more left over to shower you in, to drown you in. what better person could there be?

the decision was made, he knew what had to happen, and he knew he would get away with it. normally, he didn't like to risk dirtying his hands with anything even remotely like this, but for you, he'd crawl his way through the mud. besides, what harm was there in getting your hands dirty, as long as you washed the muck away?

the news had hit you like a freight train. aera, one of your very best friends, struck while walking on the street late at night, by a drunk driver. how awful! and just that day, she had gotten into a conflict at work...the poor girl. she was so young, too. she had so much going for her, so much to wait for in life.

putting on your nicest black outfit, combing your hair out, and grabbing your plain black umbrella, you parked your car on the road across from the cemetery. your umbrella came in handy, as it was a grey day, rain drizzling from the sky, almost like God was crying right along with you. faces, familiar and not, all flooded to the open grave.

looking around, you recognized a few coworkers, and most notable, jungkook. he had on a black suit, one that looked nicer than his everyday ones, and was standing around with a few people. he didn't look like he was sad, but more solemn. like he was only there because it was the right thing to do.

you shied away from the crowd, preferring to stick to yourself and process the loss on your own. you visited the casket, which had the lid shut up tight, and you just stood there for a minute. memories of aera flooded your mind, from the first cheerful greeting she gave you to the final words she hurled at you as she stormed away. who knew that would be the last time you ever saw each other?

as you mourned, you felt a hand snake around your waist, rubbing your side gently. "hey, [name]. how are you holding up?" jungkook asked quietly, leaning into your ear as he did so. you shook your head. "i'm fine, it's just..so shocking. i mean, we just saw her." you said, not totally believing the words that left your own mouth.

he nodded. "mmh, i get that. it's horrifying, isn't it? absolutely..horrifying." he said, looking down at the polished brown casket and the spread of flowers that sat on top of it. "hey, you've been standing in the rain for a while. aren't you cold? here, take this." he offered, taking the soft suit jacket off and hanging it over your shoulders. "how about we go sit down? the service is going to start soon." he said, carefully leading you to two chairs underneath the tent, away from the cold drops of rain that were hitting your skin.

you thanked him quietly, and before you could do anymore, the service started. the array of speeches and memories shared in aera's honor brought tears to your eyes, and you couldn't help the few that rolled down your cheeks. the whole time, jungkook kept his arm wrapped around your shoulders, at some points even pulling you closer to him and almost cradling you in his arms. admittedly, it was nice to have someone there for you as you hurt, even if it was him.

the service ended, seemingly as quickly as it started. the crowd dispersed, some going up to say their final goodbye to aera. you and your fragile heart couldn't bear to do it, not again, and after leaving jungkook's suit jacket on your chair, you slowly started to make your way back to the car, wiping your tears on your hands as you did so.

"[name]!" you heard a familiar voice call. turning around, jungkook, suit jacket in hand, walked swiftly towards you, arm outstretched. "come on. i'll take you home." he said, reaching to grab your shoulder. you shook your head. "thank you, but my car's parked here. and thanks for the jacket. i'll see you at work." you replied, trying to turn and leave.

"i don't think you should be driving. you know, with...everything. your mind is foggy. it's dangerous to drive like that. come on, i promise i don't mind." he pleaded, a desperate look crossing his features. hesitantly, you obliged with his request, and he wrapped his arm around you once again as you walked to his fancy car. some heads turned, and there were some whispers, and your face burned because of it, but jungkook didn't seem to notice.

his car was nice, and undoubtedly expensive. with only two seats, it looked like something a movie star would zoom up to a party with. getting in, and buckling your seatbelt, you heard the door locks click, and as the car started up, you felt your grief fire up again, but this time, it manifested in your stomach, specifically, a pit feeling, similar to nerves.

"don't you need my address?" you asked him as he took off down the road. "i have your address already." he said, "you know, from employee records." he clarified, smiling at you innocently. there wasn't much conversation. only the sounds of the asphalt beneath you and the feelings of devastation at aera's death heightening in your stomach, now giving you sweaty palms and a racing heart. all you needed was to get home, to your shower, your pajamas, and your bed.

it was only after jungkook drove past your road that you realized the feeling in your stomach might be a bit more than pure grief. "sorry, but you drove past my road." you informed him. he shook his head. "no, [name]. we're not going there. i have something i need to tell you, and i really need you to stay calm, because it'll make it a whole lot easier for you. got that?" he asked, putting his hand on your thigh and making mindless patterns with his thumb.

"what are you talking about? i'd really just like to go back home, jungkook, my house. please." you beseeched. he shook his head again. "listen to me, baby, just listen, yeah? you are going home--well, not your home, but we're going to our home. sound good? i don't want you to worry. i know this is weird, but i promise, you'll love it. okay? stay calm, for me." he explained, slowly, as if you were a child. tears welled up in your eyes all over again. "but why? i don't want to!" you cried.

"why? why do you think, darling, because i'm bored?" he chuckled at his own sick joke, "because, i love you. and i'm the only one you have, now that aera's gone. i know you're sad about that, but trust me, it was for the best. if you heard what she said, you would hit the floor, baby." he said, he laughed at it, as if it were some type of hilarious joke.

it didn't take a genius to figure out what he was implying. disgusted, you froze in your seat, breath catching in your throat. "you...don't tell me...you did that..to her?" you choked out, barely able to annunciate the words. he shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "what can i say? she wasn't good for you, darling, that's what you need to understand. she was such a hateful person. she deserved it." he assured you, voice calm and even.

vision blurring, whether it was from the tears or dizziness, you weren't sure, but you clawed at the handle of his car. "let me out. right now. just let me go, and i won't tell anyone. please." you begged, desperately looking around for anything to help you. suddenly, you felt the car stop abruptly in the middle of the road. jungkook leaned over, hand unmoving from your thigh, and spoke directly into your ear. "try to get out of this car again, and so help me god, i will not hesitate to do to the both of us what i did to aera. you wouldn't want that, would you, sweetheart?" he asked, voice sweet and innocent, as he leaned back, and even had the audacity to give you a kiss on the cheek and smile at you as he did so.

slowly, you sat back in your seat, hands folded in your lap. as much as you wanted to, you had no doubt that jungkook would run the both of you off the road if you tried anything else stupid. your ideas for escape started diminishing as more and more trees and fields filled your vision, and the buildings of the city faded away.

"listen to me. i got us a beautiful house in the country. it's huge, and we have anything and everything you could ever want. i'll keep on going to work, and all you have to do is stay home, and wait for me. okay? be there for me when i get home. spend time with me. be my wife. and whatever happens, happens." he told you sternly. "you know, [name], i think you were right. we have so much life left to live, both of us. we have decades left. and what better way to spend it,

than just the two of us, together?"

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