#i could have done something with her hair
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Who's That Girl AU
cw: modern au, sexual harassment mention
roommate!marauders x fem!reader ⥠1.1k words
Itâs not unusual for Remus to hear Siriusâ voice before Sirius even enters the flat. Now, yours has only joined it.
âI was only trying to be nice,â you say as the door opens.
Sirius ushers you through first, each of you carrying paper bags in both hands. âWe canât have every bloke in London showing up at our flat because you want to be nice.â
âItâs not that I want to, I just feel like itâs normal!â
James throws Remus a look, pausing the film theyâve only just begun in favor of live entertainment. âBickering already?â he asks. âI know itâs bound to happen between flatmates, but Sirius, mate, sheâs only been here two days.â
âItâs not my fault.â Sirius discards your bags by the end of the couch, flopping down. âThis home can only harbor one whore at a time. Itâs flat policy!â
âWhen did we make that policy?â James asks Remus.
Remus shrugs.
âWell, thatâs sexist,â you say.
âHow?â Sirius challenges.
âIâŚIâm not sure.â You set down your bags next to where Sirius did. âBut it is, somehow. Iâll figure it out.â
Finally, Remusâ curiosity wins out over his determination not to encourage Sirius. With great reluctance, he asks, âWhat happened?â
Sirius waves to you. âThis one tried bringing two different men home. Two!â
James looks to you with wide eyes, Remus to Sirius with narrowed ones.
âThatâs not fair,â you say, arms crossing as you sit at the end of the couch. âAll I wanted was to get shampoo.â
âThen please.â Sirius gestures with a flourish. âDemonstrate for us all how it played out.â
You roll your eyes. âSeriously?â
At this, Sirius cracks a smile. Remus groans.
âThatâs me, babe,â Sirius says smugly.
Your brow furrows for a second before you realize what youâve done. Your eyes roll again. âWhatever, fine. So, we were leaving Bootsââ
âNo. Start from the tube.â
Your mouth twists as though youâve tasted something bad. âThat oneâs embarrassing.â
âThen maybe youâll learn from it.â
âOi.â Remus gives Sirius a firm nudge. He says to you, âYou donât have to tell us anything you donât want to.â
You really do look embarrassed, but you soften some at Remusâ tone. Take a breath. âNo, itâs fine. So we were on the trainââ
âThe tube,â Sirius cuts in.
âDo you want to tell it?â you nearly snap.
James snickers into his palm. Sirius holds up both hands in a gesture of surrender, nodding for you to continue.
âWe were on the tube, and I look up to see this guy staring at me. He smiled and said he liked my hair.â
âAnd you smiled back at him,â Sirius supplies. âThatâs important.â
âFine, sure.â You pull your legs in, folding your arms over them. âI smiled back at him, and I said thank you, right? Because he gave me a compliment.â
James hisses through his teeth. âNothing,â he says when you look at him. âKeep going.â
Youâre beginning to look wary. âAnyway, then the guy started talking to me, asking where I was from and how I liked London and stuff, and somehow it escalated into him telling meâŚbasically saying what heâd like to do to me.â Your mouth gets that distasteful twist again. âIt was pretty vulgar.â
âAw, babe.â Jamesâ expression is pained. âIâm sorry.â
âWouldnât have happened if you didnât encourage him,â Sirius tsks.
Remus thwacks him on the arm. âLet her talk.â
âYeah,â James chimes in, âand where were you during all this? A gentleman would have stepped in.â
âI did step in!â Sirius defends himself. âI got us the hell off the tube before that wanker could start publicly assaulting her.â
âI do appreciate that,â you say weakly.
âThank you. If it werenât for me, sheâoi!â James crawls over Remus to begin wrestling Sirius, both of them laughing while trying to appear angry.
You press your lips together, clearly trying to suppress a smile. Remus wants to warn you not to encourage them, but by the glitter of mirth in your eyes it might be a wasted effort.
âAlright,â James says once he has Sirius trapped with Jamesâ hand covering his mouth, âgo on, lovely. You said there were two incidents. You can tell the second one without interruptions.â
âThanks,â you say, grinning. âSo the second thing was that as we were leaving Boots, after getting all my stuff, this guy held the door open for us. I said thank you and we left, but then when we were about to get back on the tube the same guy came up to us. He asked for my number and seemed confused when I said no, because I guess he thought we had a connection or something?â
Sirius is struggling against James, whoâs fighting to keep a straight face as he keeps the other boy pinned down. Remus feels earnestly bad for you. Itâs clear youâre confused about where these interactions went wrong.
âDid you smile at him, also?â Remus asks.
You think for a moment. âI guess I probably did.â
âOh.â James sounds pitying. âWhy would youâeugh!â He lets go of Sirius quickly. âDid you just lick my hand?â
Sirius shoves him off, fixing his hair. âDonât fucking muzzle me, you brute.â
âNasty prat.â James wipes his palm on his shirtfront.
âLove, why do you keep smiling at people?â Remus asks.
âExactly!â Sirius throws up his hands. âThat is the question of the day.â
âI donât know.â You frown, defensive. âBecause Iâm pleasant?â
âAwe.â James slings an arm around your shoulders, using the other to pat your cheek. You look as though youâd rather not be touched with the hand recently infected by Siriusâ spit, but youâre too nice to say so. âYouâre just an innocent little country mouse, arenât you? You canât smile at people here like that, babe.â
Your frown softens confusedly. âWhy not?â
âBecause when you do, people think youâre trying to be extra friendly with them. Like youâre singling them out or something.â
âSeriously?â
Remus pins Sirius with a glare just as he opens his mouth.
âSo, no smiling at anyone?â you go on.
âNo chatting either,â Sirius tells you sternly.
âThere are exceptions,â says Remus, âbut generally people tend to prefer going about their own business. Starting conversations with strangers on the tube or at Boots isnât reallyâŚdone.â
You look perturbed by this news. James laughs, giving your cheek another fond pat.
âDonât worry, youâll be alright,â he assures you. âYouâll figure it out in time. For now, just donât give anyone the flat number, okay? Donât need any unexpected visitors.â
âThatâs right.â Sirius nods firmly. âThereâs already one whore in this flat. Those are the rules.â
âNot a whore,â you remind him.
âWhere are these rules?â James wants to know. âI need to make sure there are no others I need to know about.â
#marauders new girl au#roommate!marauders#platonic marauders#marauders au#platonic!marauders#platonic!marauders x reader#platonic!marauders x y/n#marauders fanfiction#marauders#marauders fandom#the marauders#hp marauders#marauders x reader#marauders fanfic#marauders fic#james potter#sirius black#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x y/n#dead gay wizards from the 70s
545 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Behind Closed Doors
Pairing: Local Figure!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky didn't have a great day, so you help him unwind.
Word Count: Over 1.2k
Warnings: Established relationship, implied sex, light fluff, swearing, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: Inspired by an ask from @yenzys-lucky-charm, so I'm also submitting this for her Cranky, Grumpy, Stabby! Oh, My! Challenge (đĄď¸ A: Smoothing out the crease in Crankyâs frown while straddling their lap B: Cranky character melts, pulling them in for a kiss). â¤ď¸ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky tossed his jacket away and loosened his tie the moment the front door shut. In public, he had to maintain an image of confidence and controlled passion, carefully toeing the line between showing too much or too little emotion on the issues at hand. When things didnât go his way, he couldnât lash out or show defeat. Behind closed doors, he could allow himself to be a bit cranky. He didnât have to put on a show.
With you, he didnât have to put on a show either.
âGo sit, and Iâll make you a drink.â It wasnât a suggestion. He didnât drink often, but it was a rough day and you sensed that he needed one. If the drink wasnât enough to help him unwind, you were sure you could think of something else.
Bucky kicked his shoes off before he took a seat and pinched the bridge of his nose. âThe Town Hall meeting should've gone off without a hitch, but Nick just had to show up and run his mouth.â His hands curled into fists when he grumbled, âFucker.â
Bucky was never a fan of Nick Fowler. The man had a way with words and had experience, heâd give him that, but the guy wasnât trustworthy. Too many secrets, too many people in his pocket. Some would say Bucky wasnât trustworthy either since he was also a local figure, but he cared about his town and only wanted the best for everyone who lived there. He couldnât say the same for Nick since he was only out for power and would step on anyone to gain it.
âIt was rocky at times,â you said carefully, pouring him a glass of whiskey. Being overly optimistic wouldâve been an insult, and he valued honesty since it was sometimes difficult to know who was telling the truth in his line of work. âBut it ended on a high note.â
âHe still proposed to cut funding for the library, and people agreed with him. Itâs struggling as it is, and it needs the money,â he muttered, his steel eyes softening when you brought his drink over. âI swear he only proposed to cut funding to piss me off.â
Education was important to Bucky. The library, in particular, held a special place in his heart. It strived to create a welcoming and inclusive environment for the community, offering free resources to all. More than that, it was a space where history was preserved, and where people could feel valued and respected. It brought people together.
âAnd itâs working,â you pointed out, running your fingers through his soft caramel hair once you sat down and earning a sigh in response. âI know itâs easier said than done, but try not to let him get under your skin.â
Nick getting under Buckyâs skin meant he was losing, and Bucky wasnât a man who lost.
âIâm trying,â he promised, taking another large sip and drawing your attention when he licked a drop from his lips.
You had to blink so you wouldnât let his sexiness distract you from making him feel better. âDonât forget, you have a fundraiser right around the corner,â you reminded him. There were people who would love to make a contribution to one of his passion projects, including the library.
His shoulders relaxed the more you played with his hair. âThatâs true.â
âAnd listen, if I could get away with it, Iâd wear my âI READ BANNED BOOKSâ shirt when I attend just to make you happy,â you teased.
That got a chuckle out of him. âThat shirt got my attention.â
Going to that Town Hall meeting was one of the best decisions you ever made. âIf you think that got your attention, wait until you see the dress Iâm wearing.â
Closing his eyes with a groan, you had no doubt he was imagining it. He had an amazing suit picked out and you got something to not only match but something to drive him wild. âAs long as John doesnât show up and hit on you,â he tried to joke, but there was an edge to his voice.
As if the meeting wasnât enough to put your man in a bad mood, bumping into John Walker after was the icing on the cake. If there was someone Bucky couldnât stand more than Nick, it was John. The arrogant public worker rubbed him the wrong way, demanding respect and trust when he hadnât earned it.
âWe both know he wouldnât stand a chance,â you said. Gorgeous looks aside, Bucky had you hooked from the beginning because of who he was. No one else could compare.
âIf he tries anythingâŚâ Bucky could cut men down with a mere look, but people like Nick and John liked to push.
Taking the glass from his hand and setting it aside, you slowly straddled him. âYouâre still cranky.â
âIâm not trying to be,â he whispered, resting his hands on your hips. Of course, he wasnât. He wasnât the kind of man who liked to dwell in any unpleasant headspace or emotions.
âI know. You had a rough day, and you have every right to be cranky. But I also know that the smile I love is in there somewhere,â you smiled. Bringing your hands to his face, you smoothed out the creases in his frown. His body went lax beneath yours when you did it again. âI just need to find it⌠Ah! There it is.â
Something you loved about Bucky was that he smiled in different ways before his mouth moved. He did it with his eyes, something so warm and loving that only you could see. Some days you heard it in his voice, in the tone he used and the words he chose. Even the way his body relaxed with you was a smile, happiness blooming from his core.
And Bucky was smiling when he pulled you in for a kiss.
Your heart tried to beat right out of your chest when he hooked an arm around your waist and pulled you closer. Tasting the whiskey when his tongue slipped past your lips, you moaned. The kiss was full of hunger, eager to take what you were willing to give. There was a hint of desperation, like he was trying to use your mouth to chase his bad mood away. Above all, it was vulnerable, a side of himself he trusted you enough to show.
âYouâre too good to me, sweetheart,â he whispered, rolling his hips up and making you moan again. âBut Iâm still a little cranky.â
âIs that right?â you smiled, rocking your hips teasingly just because you could. Making the powerful man hard made you feel powerful. âAre you proposing that I do something about that?â
The fingers on your waist flexed. âIâll make it worth your while if you do.â
âPromises, promises,â you teased.
âI keep my promises,â he pointed out. In a world of liars and cheats, Bucky was a man of his word.
âThatâs true.â You pretended to think about it when he thrust his hips up with a small growl, heating up your core more. âOkay, fine. Rest back so I can make the crankiness go away.â
And knowing Bucky, heâd make sure you felt nothing but bliss, too, before the night was over.
I know, lovlies, I don't need more AUs, but I would give him everything and more. Love and thanks for reading! â¤ď¸
Masterlist â Bucky Barnes Masterlist â Ko-Fi
#navybrat writes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes#politician!bucky barnes#local figure!bucky barnes#crankygrumpystabby#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes au#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#sebastian stan#sebastian stan x reader#james bucky buchanan barnes#local figure!bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x you#the winter soldier#bucky fanfic#bucky imagine#x reader#bucky barnes fluff#bucky fluff#bucky barnes one shot#bucky one shot
398 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Invincible!Mark x reader imagine
dating a civilian
The meeting had been dragging on for too long, and Mark was already exhausted. Missions, responsibilities, the weight of being Invincibleâit was all piling up. But when Eve made her comment, all of that faded into the background.
"Mark, I just donât get it," Eve said, crossing her arms. "Youâre risking too much by being with a civilian. You know that, right? She canât keep up with you. She canât fight. Sheâs vulnerable."
Markâs jaw clenched. He slowly turned to face her, his usual easygoing expression hardening into something unreadable.
"You think I donât know that?" His voice was quieter than usual, but firm. The room went still.
Eve hesitated. "I just mean⌠You live in different worlds. What happens if she gets hurt because of you? Or worse? You should be with someone who understands what it means to be a hero."
Mark let out a sharp breath, his fists clenching at his sides. "You donât get to decide that for me, Eve. I love her. And yeah, she doesnât have powers, but that doesnât mean sheâs weak. Sheâs stronger than you think."
"Markâ"
"No," he cut her off. "She takes care of me. After every fight, every mission, every time I come home half-dead, sheâs the one who patches me up. Sheâs the one who holds me when I feel like Iâm falling apart. She makes me want to be better, not just as Invincible, but as a person. And you think sheâs not enough just because she doesnât have powers? Thatâs bullshit."
Eve frowned, clearly taken aback by the force behind his words. "I just⌠I worry about you."
"Then trust me to make my own choices," Mark said, his voice softer but no less determined. "I know what Iâm doing. And Iâm not going to let anyone make me doubt that."
The room was silent. No one else dared to speak. Mark exhaled slowly, shaking his head before turning away, ready to leave. "Iâm done here."
When he got home that night, he didnât say anything at firstâhe just wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, breathing you in. You could feel the tension in his body, the weight of the conversation still lingering on his shoulders.
"Mark? Whatâs wrong?"
He buried his face in your neck, his voice a little rough. "Nothing. Just⌠I love you."
You smiled softly, running your fingers through his hair. "I love you too. Always."
He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his gaze full of determination and something fiercerâsomething protective. "No one gets to tell me that I shouldnât be with you. No one."
And you knew, without a doubt, that he meant every word.
#invincible comic#invincible season 3#mark x reader#mark grayson invincible#invincible fanfic#mark grayson x reader#invincible smut#invincible x reader#invincible#invincible x you
326 notes
¡
View notes
Text
writing a mini fic about this
My name is George Ryan Ross III but my kick ass band just calls me Ryan. And Iâm 18 years oldâ I live in Las Vegas, Nevada. (Thats where I started the band). We liked to call ourselves, Pet Salamander, then for a little bit we were Summerleague Rock. But after this dreamy older boy BRENDON joined the band? We totally had to switch up, and call ourselves something proper. So nowadays, weâre Panic! At the Disco. After The Smiths song (A/N: If you donât know who that is get OUTTTT!!!!)
I woke up in a big t shirt and immediately started playing some âThird Blind Eyeâ (A/N: if you donât know THEM⌠GET OUT!!!!) as my mom yelled âTURN THAT GARBAGE DOWN AND GET DOWN HERE!!!â I put my middle finger up at her and kicked my speaker. Threw my hair into a messy bun, and walked down the stairs. When i got into the living room i almost came on the spot when i saw⌠PETE WENTZ? OF FALL OUT BOY?
âHey son⌠Its me. Pete. You belong to me nowâŚâ I gasp in shock, âMom you sold me?! How could you!? Your son!!â My mom yawned and rolled her eyes, âDo you think I can be jobless and afford a three story house with two pools and a hot tub without human trafficking? Besides, your son number 7 at this rate. Been there, done that. Bleh. Go with this gorgeously handsome man this instant!â I just couldnât believe itâ Not only did I have 6 other siblings I didnât know about but even more shocking was that Pete Wentz wanted me! A mere bitch with a bobâŚ
To be continuedâŚ? (No. The author is going to take a stroke on a crashing aeroplane, fall into the Indian ocean, hike all the way to Mumbai and get kidnapped by drug smugglers who are trying to cross the border to China. Later to escape sheâll agree to marry a Belgian cult leader online who will fly her to the middle of Brussels where she will live in a confine with him and his 13 sister wives who are also his daughters before she escapes by killing him, gets arrested for that and the Grand Theft Auto she committed when she steals an SUV whilst trying to cross the border, spend 14 years in prison before getting deported back to the UK where sheâll finally get checked for that stroke she had because truthfully she shouldnât have survived that. The doctors deem her hospital bound and while she has the time sheâll re-log into Ao3, find this, get embarrassed, delete it and then find 15 years later that fan fic has grown a cult following so sheâs forced to re-write but instead of following this story sheâll just write porn without plot smut about Ryan and Pete.)
ryan ross is like a y/n who got sold to pete wentz if you think about it
#ryan ross#pete wentz#fall out boy#panic! at the disco#panic at the disco#emo#2000s emo#bandom#i had much more fun writing the explaination for why shes been gone#because you know ao3 authors have the most insane lives
1K notes
¡
View notes
Text
cinnamon girl | a jegulus x reader series. pt 1
masterlist
summary : your father insisted that you be dating Rabastan Lestrange, for protection and security. But what happens when said boy wants to run away from his Death Eater duties, and a certain bespectacled boy lands him a hand, leading to something more than he couldâve ever imagined.
pairing: regulus black x malfoy!reader x james potter, initially rabastan lestrange x malfoy!reader.
specifications : 1. this will be an entire series, but please be patient with me. 2. reader is one year younger than Lucius. & 3. this series is full of surprises.
warnings : angst, fluff, swearing, eventual smut, arranged marriage, mentions of bruises and broken bones, Sirius being dramatic, eventual polyamorous relationship, death eaters, death



âDo you know what time theyâll be here tomorrow?â you ask Lucius exhaustedly, leaning your head against his shoulder as you walk together to the Slytherin dorms.
It has been a pretty long day. Your legs hurt and you want nothing more than to finally get to your dorm and pack your things for Christmas break.
He sighs and throws an arm around your neck, his own eyes closing from the endless studying heâs done these past weeks. âEight thirty, maybe nine. Iâll have to tell Evan about that, he doesnât really do mornings.â
You laugh weakly, finally reaching the common room as Lucius opens the door for you. Youâre about to open your mouth, but are interrupted by the loud chatter of your friends.
âHe did what?â
âHow could he be so stupid?!â
âFor Merlinâs sake, Rabastan!â
âHey, guys. What are we cussing out Rabastan for today?â your brother falls on the sofa and youâre right behind him.
But they donât seem to take Luciusâ amusement lightly, and you can see that when Severus stops tugging at his hair to turn to you, and so do your other friends. Their shocked expressions make you sink further into the sofa.
âHeâs all bloodied up in the hospital wing right now. Apparently the idiot got into a fight with Potter and, well⌠Letâs just say that now he canât move his right hand at allâ Narcissa explains and your eyes widen. How couldâve James done that to him?
âFrom the shoulder down. Can you imagine?â Barty shakes his head and your brother, still beside you, gasps.
You throw him a dirty look before turning back to Narcissa. âCan we go see him? I think heâd want us to be there.â
âI mean, he is in a lot of pain and Madam Pomfrey said he might be there for a few daysâ Bellatrix chimes in, carelessly rolling her eyes as she stands up abruptly. âWe could always just hex Potter, thatâs something Rabastan would want.â
The raven haired boyâs eyes shoot up and lock with yours, carefully placing his book on the table. âI donât know about that. What I do know is that Iâm staying behind for Lestrange.â
âYeah, cause that is so entertainingâ Bellatrix mocks her cousin, going back to discussing hexing James.
Your frown slowly fades as you and Regulus maintain eye contact. Youâve always wondered how he could be attentive and protective of his friends, but still seem cold and uninterested all the time.
âWill you?â he asks suddenly, his demeanour still as calm as ever. You have to blink rapidly, and when you do, you swear that you can see the corner of his mouth tilt up.
âIâm- Sorry?â
âWill you stay here for the holidays? To keep Evan companyâ he muses, and you can tell by his tone that he is utterly amused.
âI wish. Heâs my boyfriend after allâ you sigh softly, chewing on your bottom lip. You hesitate at first, but still lean in closer to Regulus, so only he can hear. âBut father wants me and Luce home on the 31st. He said that we have to meet someone.â
Regulusâ shoulders tense up and you notice his eyes widen a bit, but he still manages to brush it off like itâs nothing. âThe 31st is still two weeks awayâ he inquires and you nod slowly.
âYouâre rightâ you give him a small smile, resting your chin on your brotherâs arm that was now sitting around your shoulders again. âYouâre right, Iâm staying here.â
The green eyed boy hums contently, picking up his book once again as he traces his pale, slender fingers over the pages. âGood.â
Youâre left gawking at him, and now that his attention wasnât solely focused on you, or so you think, you can finally relax. Even speaking a few simple words with him made you nervous, your heart throbbing against your ribcage.
đŚ˘
Later that evening, you find yourself not able to sleep. Youâre tossing and turning, and your throat suddenly feels dry.
You curse yourself for not bringing a glass of water, before you get out of bed, the cold air hitting your bare legs and shoulders. You put your slippers on and do your best to open the door without making much noise, as to not wake up your roommates.
The stairs are old and with the creaking sound they make, youâre more than certain that you managed to wake up someone. The common room was dimly lit, and that mostly thanks to the fireplace.
âCanât sleep?â
Your eyes widen as you clutch your chest, breathing heavy and alert, but the fear quickly dissolves when you catch sight of Regulus.
âWhy would you do that?â you scoff, but still feel your cheeks burn, now very aware of his eyes on you. Youâre almost bare, your pajamas doing very little to cover you.
He laughs quietly and your chest fills with ease. âAnd I didnât even tryâ he sets his glass of water on the table, resting his chin on the palm of his hand as he turns to get a better look at you. âYou seem troubled.â
Regulus, always most observant. Damn him.
You sigh, walking toward the couch and plopping down next to him. âIâm just confused. I mean, Rabastan has a big mouth and sometimes that gets him weeks worth of detention. But he never gets⌠beaten upâ you scrunch your nose, the words leaving a bitter taste on your tongue.
He nods, as if understanding why youâre worried. âI didnât take Potter as one to break someoneâs face either.â
âExactly!â you beam for a moment, having been dismissed and laughed at by your brother earlier when you told him just that. âHeâs been my partner in Potions since third year. The guy teared up when he saw some mosquito wings and I had to listen to his whole theory about how the mosquito mustâve had a family and theyâre probably waiting for him.â
This makes Regulus laugh out loud, his hands covering his face as you sip your water, barely able to control your laughter yourself. âTell me about it. He sits in front of me in Transfiguration. He turned Tammy Smithâs hair elastic into a ginger cat. It chewed on her hair and even scratched her scalp. Her hair hasnât grown in that spot, and she has to wear a ponytail everyday. Itâs been four months.â
âRight?! When I asked her why she refuses to wear her hair down anymore, she just glared at meâ you giggle quietly, now feeling a little bad for her.
A comfortable silence settles between you two, and Regulus speaks softly after a while. âSomeone should talk to James about it. I heard heâs in the hospital wing too.â
âIs he?â your bottom lip juts out slightly, and you look up at Regulus. âYouâre right, someone should talk to him.â
He chuckles lowly, âI meant you.â
âMe? Why me?â
âOh, come onâ he draws out, his lips pursing, as if heâs trying to bit back a smile, or worse, a smirk. âHeâs fond of you. You canât tell me you didnât know that.â
You hope that heâs joking, but when you look at him, searching his face for any sign of a joke, heâs serious. And it makes you wonder : Is James Potter actually fond of you?
âI think heâs just intrigued about us. I mean, Sirius barely lets us come near him. I canât tell you how itâs like to brew potions whilst his eyes burn holes in the back of my headâ you say, and in all fairness, thatâs how it is.
James is a sweet, gentle guy, one that you would like to get to know better, but you just canât. And it seems as though Regulus finds great pleasure in teasing you about it.
âYou might be rightâ he shrugs, still not very convinced. He picks up his glass and stands up, walking toward the boysâ dormitories. He reaches the end of the stairs and comes to a halt, looking carefully over his shoulder, his words merely a whisper into the night. âSirius leaves for about twenty minutes at lunch every day, in case you reconsider it.â
đŚ˘
Your clock reads 11:01 oâclock when you finally gather the courage to leave your dormitory, heading straight toward the hospital wing. Youâve told no one, but deep down you know that Regulus is right. He needs to know that not all of you want to hex him for whatever it is he did to your boyfriend.
You finally reach the door and take a deep breath before slowly pushing it open. You figure Sirius should be gone by now.
The beds were empty, except for Jamesâ and a sleeping Rabastan. You thank Merlin that heâs asleep.
âY/n?â James calls your name, his voice hoarse and brows furrowed. Of course he didnât expect to see you here.
âIn the fleshâ you force a tight lipped smile as you sit on the chair by his bed. His leg is bandaged, but other than that he seems just fine. âI didnât know James Potter could fight.â
Your comment makes him smirk, âThereâs a lot you donât know about him. Heard heâs a pretty cool guy, doesnât really pick fights either.â
Him talking about himself in third person makes you roll your eyes fondly, shaking your head. âI might not know this James very well, but I sure know who will pick up a fight if he feels like itâ you sigh and look to Rabastan still sleeping peacefully, his bed just across from Jamesâ. âWhat did he say?â
His face flashes with something you canât quite put your finger on, but he makes sure to ground himself, his signature smirk returning to his face. âHeâs just got a beatable face.â
Your shoulders drop and James sighs defeatedly. Of course you wouldnât give in just like that. âFine, he got into an argument with Pa- Sirius. Mean things were said, he tried to hurt Sirius, so I had no choice.â
Liar. You donât know much about James Potter, but what you do know is that he would never slap someone, let alone put them in the hospital.
You huff a laugh, eyes meeting his for the second time. âWhat did he say?â
âOh- Well, now- Letâs just keep it at thatâ he says with a small smile, a very uncomfortable one at that. âYou should go, though. My friends will be back any minute.â
You canât help the scoff that escapes your mouth. He thinks that he can just lie through his teeth and then dismiss you like youâre stupid? You donât want to give him that satisfaction.
You donât say more though, and that leaves James with a heavy heart. You move nonchalantly, sitting in a similar chair, but now by Rabastanâs bed.
You did have a chance to say something, to snap at him or persuade him. But you didnât.
It could get way more interesting than that.
#jegulus x reader#jegulus smut#jegulus fluff#jegulus series#jegulus fic#jegulus imagine#harry potter smut#james potter x reader#regulus black x reader#james potter smut#james potter fluff#james potter angst#regulus black smut#regulus black angst#regulus black fluff#harry potter fluff#harry potter angst#harry potter fic#harry potter imagine
193 notes
¡
View notes
Note
Can you do the seven half-sisters thing again? With him going into the army before college, changing his appearance (becoming more handsome and looking more like a grown man), height and posture, even his voice , which was no longer that voice of a teenager
Bad Brother, Worst Sisters
Yandere w/ Smut
Yandere Ryujin, Lisa, Jo Yuri, Kazuha, Choerry, Rei and Miyeon x Male Reader

AN: Last story for this week! I haven't slept if anyone's wondering hahaha, I was too busy trying to finish this. This story was done by me but i was helped by a dear friend of mine.
Enjoy this one! I will be sleeping now hahaha XD
(God this lineup is so goated tbh)
The announcement of your enlistment was met with indifference. Your step-sisters barely reacted.
Ryujin was slouched on the couch, scrolling through her phone. She barely spared you a glance. âCool. Have fun in boot camp or whatever.â
Lisa chuckled, twirling a strand of her hair. âGonna get all buff, huh? Maybe youâll actually become useful.â
Jo Yuri shrugged. âItâs not like you had a choice. Every guy has to go.â
Kazuha tilted her head, expression blank. âWhen do you leave?â
You sighed. âTomorrow morning.â
Choerry smiled, but there was no warmth. âWell, donât die or anything.â
Rei simply nodded. Miyeon muttered a quick âGood luck.â
That was it. No tears, no sentimental goodbyesâjust a few passive comments before they returned to whatever they were doing.
It wasnât surprising. You had always been more of an outsider in the family. Your step-sisters never went out of their way to be cruel, but they werenât exactly warm either. They lived in their own little world, and you were just... there.
You left without looking back.
Months of grueling training changed you. When you stepped through the front door, the air in the house felt different.
Silence.
Thenâ
Ryujin appeared first. She stopped in her tracks, eyes scanning you up and down. Her usual lazy smirk was gone. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but nothing came out.
Lisa leaned against the kitchen counter, her fingers gripping a glass of water so tightly it might crack. âHoly shit.â
Jo Yuri tilted her head, brows furrowing. âNo way⌠thatâs you?â
Kazuha stepped forward cautiously. âYour voiceâŚâ she murmured, as if hearing it felt unreal.
Rei swallowed, her gaze locked onto your face. âYou look so⌠different.â
Miyeon placed a hand on her chest, a slow smile spreading on her lips. âYouâve grown into such a fine man, havenât you?â
Choerry bit her lip, her gaze dark and unreadable. âAnd we just let you leave looking like that?â
You laughed awkwardly, setting your duffel bag down. âWell, yeah. Itâs still me.â
But their stares didnât waver. They were studying youâabsorbing every inch of the new you.
That first night back, you could feel their eyes on you. Whenever you moved around the house, they were there. Watching. Observing. If you passed by the living room, one of them would be lounging nearby, pretending to be on their phone. If you went into the kitchen, youâd suddenly feel a presence behind you, too close for comfort.
The air was thick with something unspoken. Their casual indifference was gone, replaced with something else entirely.
At first, their behavior seemed harmless.
Lisa, who used to tease you relentlessly, started making excuses to be close. âYou work out now, huh?â she mused, hands gliding over your arms. âI wonder how strong youâve gotten.â
Ryujin, usually distant, started dropping into your room unannounced. Sheâd sit on your bed, stretching, acting like she belonged there. âIâm just bored,â sheâd say. But the way her eyes lingered on you said otherwise.
Jo Yuri was the worst. She had always been a little playful, but now? Her touches lingered too long. Her words were too sweet. âYou missed us, didnât you? I can tell.â
Kazuha started bringing you snacks, feeding you piece by piece with her fingers. âEat up. You need to keep your strength.â She always insisted on watching you eat, her fingers grazing your lips whenever she fed you.
Rei always found ways to touch you. A hand on your wrist. A brush against your neck. âYouâre warmer now.â
Miyeon and Choerry started arguing over who got to sit next to you at dinner. It was eerie, how quickly things shifted. Miyeon would pull your chair closer to hers, wrapping her arm around your shoulders, whispering things too soft for the others to hear. Choerry, on the other hand, had a more aggressive approachâcutting your food for you, feeding you like a child, her smile twitching whenever someone interrupted.
The nights were the worst. You started locking your door. It didnât help. Some nights, you swore you heard the doorknob turning. Other nights, you could hear soft whispers right outside your room. Once, you woke up to find your window slightly open, even though you were certain you had locked it.
The suffocation became unbearable. You told your parents, but they dismissed it. âTheyâre just happy youâre home.â
So you made the decision. You moved out.
The day you left, their reactions were⌠unsettling.
Lisa stood by the door, arms crossed, but her nails dug into her skin. âYouâre seriously leaving?â
Ryujin scoffed. âTch. Whatever.â But her eyes burned with something dangerous.
Jo Yuri stepped close, whispering, âYouâll come back. You always will.â
Kazuha simply stared, her grip tightening on the edge of your shirt before she let go.
Rei smiled, but it didnât reach her eyes. âEnjoy your freedom while it lasts.â
Miyeon kissed your cheek. âWeâll be waiting.â
Choerry didnât say a word. She just watched you walk away.
Life in your apartment was peaceful. You could finally breathe. But something felt wrong. No messages, no calls. No sign of them at all.
Until one night.
You unlocked your door after a long day at college. The lights were on.
And Lisa was sitting on your couch, waiting.
She smiled. âHey, baby bro. Long time no see.â
Your stomach twisted. âLisa? How did you get in?â
She stretched, making herself comfortable. âWhat kind of sister would I be if I didnât have a spare key?â
What the hell?
You exhaled. âAlright, you visited. Now leave.â
Lisa pouted. âThatâs not how you treat family, is it?â
Still, you sighed and decided to make dinner. Maybe if you played along, sheâd leave faster.
You were halfway through preparing food whenâ
A hand covered your mouth.
Darkness.
When you woke up, your wrists were tied to your steel desk. The dim glow of your bedside lamp cast eerie shadows on the walls.
Lisa sat across from you, smiling. âYou really shouldnât have left, baby brother.â
Anger flared through you. âLisa, what the hell is this?! Let me go!â
The door creaked open.
Six figures stepped inside, their eyes gleaming.
Miyeon smiled sweetly. âYou really thought you could leave your family behind?â
Ryujin scoffed. âDumbass.â
Choerry giggled, tracing a finger along your wrist. âYouâre ours. No matter what.â
The air felt thick, suffocating, as the seven of them closed in around you. Your breath hitched when fingersâsoft, lingering, possessiveâbrushed against your skin. One by one, they reached for you, tracing slow patterns over your arms, your chest, your throat. Every touch was deliberate. Every gaze was heavy with something dark, something dangerous.
"You shouldn't have left," Miyeon whispered, her lips ghosting near your ear.
"Bad boys need to be punished," Ryujin added, nails lightly scraping down your forearm.
Lisaâs fingers trailed along your jaw, tilting your head up to meet her smirk. "You really thought we'd just let you go?"
Jo Yuri exhaled a soft laugh, her hands pressing against your shoulders, keeping you in place. "You belong to us, baby brother."
Kazuha was quiet, but her grip on your wrist tightened, her touch possessive, unyielding. Rei leaned in next, her breath warm against your cheek. "Even if weâre siblings⌠it doesnât change a thing."
Choerry giggled, her fingers brushing down your chest, teasing. "And tonight, weâll finally make sure you understand that.â
As they slowly had their way with youâfingertips teasing the hem of your shirt, lips brushing against your skin, teeth grazing your earlobeâyou felt your body tense, heat crawling up your spine. Every touch was deliberate, every action meant to remind you that resistance was futile.
Lisa chuckled against your neck, pressing a kiss just below your jaw. âLook at you⌠pretending you donât like this.â
Ryujinâs fingers lazily traced down your chest, her smirk dark. âYour bodyâs shaking. Is it fear⌠or excitement?â
Jo Yuri giggled, hands gliding over your shoulders, her grip tightening when you flinched. âYou canât run, baby brother. Not from us.â
Then, Kazuha moved in. Unlike the others, she didnât tease or hesitate. Her hands slid up to your face, her touch firm, claiming. Before you could protest, she pulled you inâher lips crashing against yours in a deep, breath-stealing kiss.
You tried to recoil, tried to move away, but it was impossible. Your wrists were still bound to the table, leaving you trapped as she kissed you like she had all the time in the world. Her tongue parted your lips effortlessly, tasting you, owning you.
Rei sighed, watching with dark amusement. âSo unfair, Kazuha⌠You got to him first.â
Choerry leaned in closer, her voice sickly sweet. âDonât worry⌠We have all night.â
Kazuhaâs hands were everywhereâtrailing down your arms, gripping your waist, pressing into your skin like she wanted to memorize every inch of you. Yet, her lips never once left yours, moving with a slow, deliberate hunger that made your head spin.
Without breaking the kiss, her fingers deftly unbuttoned your shirt, parting the fabric with agonizing slowness. A shiver ran through you as cool air met your skin, but the warmth of her touch quickly followed, tracing along your torso. Then, her fingers drifted lower, playing with the belt of your jeans, teasing, testing.
The others didnât move. They simply watched.
Ryujin leaned back with a smirk, arms crossed as her eyes drank in your struggle. âGetting shy now? Thatâs cute.â
Lisa tilted her head, amusement flickering in her gaze. âDonât fight it. You knew this was coming.â
Miyeon exhaled softly, eyes dark with something unreadable. âHe looks so perfect like this⌠vulnerable.â
Jo Yuri giggled, resting her chin on her palm. âI wonder how long heâll last before he stops pretending to resist.â
You squirmed, wrists still bound, but Kazuha held you firmâlips pressing harder, fingers tightening. You were completely at their mercy.
And they knew it.
You tore your lips away from Kazuhaâs, chest heaving as anger boiled inside you. âYou sick freaksâlet me go! What the hell is wrong with you?!â
Your voice echoed through the room, raw with fury, but the only response was soft, amused laughter.
Lisa leaned back, smirking. âAww, heâs mad. Isnât that adorable?â
Jo Yuri tilted her head, lips curling into a grin. âSo feisty. I love it when he tries to act tough.â
Ryujin rolled her eyes, arms crossed. âHe still doesnât get it, does he?â
Your wrists strained against the bindings, but it was useless. No matter how much you fought, you were trapped. And they knew it.
Kazuha wiped her lips with the back of her hand, her eyes gleaming. âThat wasnât very nice of you,â she murmured, disappointed.
Before you could snap back, a sharp pain exploded through your arm.
You gasped. One of themâMiyeon, you realized too lateâhad tightened her grip around your wrist, her nails digging in, deeper and deeper, until the skin broke. Blood welled up beneath her fingers, and you let out a sharp, involuntary yelp.
Miyeonâs expression didnât change. She simply leaned in, her voice deceptively soft. âIf you do that again, little brotherâŚâ Her nails pressed in even harder, making you wince. ââŚweâre going to make it so much worse for you.â
Lisa smirked as she pulled out a small knife, the dim light reflecting off the sharp edge. Without hesitation, she pressed the cool blade against your skin, dragging it slowly, tracing little patterns with deliberate care.
At first, it was just a faint sting. Then the pain deepened, sharp and burning. You gritted your teeth, a muffled groan escaping before a hand suddenly clamped over your mouth.
âShhh, be good,â Rei whispered against your ear, her breath warm. âNo screaming. We canât have that, can we?â
Your body tensed as Kazuha returned, her lips crashing onto yours with a hunger that left no room for escape. She kissed you deeper this time, her fingers trailing down your bare chest, nails grazing over fresh wounds.
Meanwhile, the others moved with unsettling coordination. Hands tugged at your belt, unfastening it with ease. The rustling of fabric sent a chill down your spine.
Then, with one swift motion, your pants and boxers were yanked down, leaving you completely exposed.
Lisa chuckled, pressing the tip of the blade teasingly against your thigh. âNow, letâs see how much more fun we can have.â
Lisa and Jo Yuri, leaned in, their breaths warm against your exposed skin. Without hesitation, their tongues met at your length, gliding over it in slow, deliberate motions as they shared every inch between them. Lisaâs touch was playful, teasing, while Jo Yuri moved slower, savoring every reaction you gave.
Meanwhile, Kazuha kept her lips firmly pressed against yours, refusing to let you pull away. Her fingers tangled in your hair, holding you in place as she deepened the kiss, her tongue claiming yours with dominance. Her eyes burned with something dangerous, something possessive.
"Donât even think about running, baby brother," she whispered against your lips, her voice laced with amusement. "You were made for usâso just accept it."
Kazuha slowly pulled away, a satisfied smirk on her lips as she licked the taste of you off her mouth. "I shouldnât be the only one having fun, right?" she murmured, her fingers trailing down your chest before stepping back, giving the others their turn.
Rei wasted no time. She grabbed your face and crashed her lips against yours, far rougher and more demanding than Kazuha had been. Her nails raked down your skin, leaving faint red marks in their wake, as if she wanted to carve her presence into you. Her tongue forced its way past your lips, claiming you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.
Meanwhile, from the corner of your eye, you saw Kazuha slipping off her undergarments. She settled onto the chair across from you, spreading her legs ever so slightly, her fingers disappearing between them. Her breathing grew heavier, her lips parting in pleasure, yet her gaze never left yours.
"Donât look away," she purred, biting down on her lower lip as her movements became more deliberate. "I want to see what you and Rei are doing."
As Rei kept her lips locked onto yours, her tongue exploring with a hunger that matched Kazuhaâs burning gaze, Lisa and Jo Yuri continued sharing your length, their mouths working in tandem. Desperation clawed at you as you tried once more to break free, but before you could even shift, Ryujin, Miyeon, and Choerryâs hands were on youâfirm, unrelenting.
"Ah, ah⌠where do you think you're going?" Miyeon cooed, pressing down harder, her nails digging into your wrists.
Ryujin smirked, tightening her grip. "Youâre staying right here, baby brother."
Choerry giggled, her eyes glinting with excitement. "Guess itâs our turn now."
With that, Lisa and Jo Yuri pulled away, leaving a wet trail along your skin as Choerry and Ryujin took their place. Their mouths were impossibly warmer, tongues needier, eager to devour you completely. The sensation was overwhelming, suffocatingâand yet, their eyes told you the worst was still yet to come.
Ryujin let the tip rest against her tongue for a moment, eyes flickering up to meet yours before she gave a slow, deliberate slap against it, her smirk sending a shiver straight down your spine. "Sensitive, aren't you?" she teased, her voice laced with amusement.
Meanwhile, Choerry was far less patient, her lips sealing around you with a desperate kind of hunger, as if she couldnât get enoughâas if this was her last chance to have you. Every movement, every flick of her tongue, sent heat pooling in your stomach, your body betraying you no matter how much you tried to fight it.
Within seconds, Miyeonâs fingers wrapped around your length, her touch slow and deliberate, using the slickness left behind by Ryujin and Choerryâs mouths. A shiver ran through you as she stroked you with an almost practiced ease, her grip just tight enough to keep you on edge.
She leaned in, her breath warm against your ear as she whispered, "Youâve always been ours. Since the very beginning. Fighting it wonât save you... itâll only make things harderâfor you." Her voice dripped with amusement, her pace never faltering, as if daring you to resist.
Your body tensed, every nerve on edge as Miyeonâs hand continued its merciless rhythm. You bit your lip, trying to suppress the inevitable, but the overwhelming sight before you made it impossible. Kazuhaâs fingers worked between her thighs, her breathy moans mixing with the wet sounds of Miyeonâs strokes. Your other step-sisters were tangled in each other, their lips meeting in desperate, hungry kisses. The ones holding you down only tightened their grips, making sure you had nowhere to run, nowhere to escape.
"M-Mi⌠Miyeon, pleaseâ" your voice cracked, a mix of shame and desperation spilling from your lips.
Miyeon chuckled, her fingers never slowing, twisting just enough to make your hips jerk involuntarily. "Please, what?" she teased, her warm breath tickling your ear. Miyeon chuckled, her fingers never slowing, twisting just enough to make your hips jerk involuntarily. "Gonna cum?" she taunted, her warm breath tickling your ear. "Go on, donât hold back. Itâs not like you can stop it anyway."
As the pressure built deep inside you, your breath hitched, your body betraying you. Just as you were about to tip over the edge, Ryujin yanked Miyeon away. Before you could even react, Lisa seized your face, forcing your gaze to meet hers. "Go on, baby brother," Lisa purred, her grip tightening as her lips brushed against your ear. "Make a mess, and weâll make you regret it. Be good for usâhold it in."
You bit down on your lip, forcing yourself to hold it inânot out of defiance, but because you were too weak to endure whatever punishment they had in store. The sting of your wounds still burned, fresh blood trickling down your skin. But despite your restraint, a small drop of release spilled from your length. Rei noticed instantly, her eyes gleaming with something dark. With a slow, deliberate motion, she swiped it up with her fingerâthen brought it to her lips, tasting you with a satisfied hum. Reiâs lips curled into a smirk as she sucked the remnants off her finger, her gaze never leaving yours.
âHm⌠even when you're trying to behave, your body still betrays you,â she purred, tilting her head. âDidnât Lisa tell you to hold it in, baby brother?â
Her eyes darkened with something wicked, something dangerous. âLooks like you need to be taught a little more discipline.â
"I wonât be a bad brother anymore⌠I swear," you pleaded, desperation lacing your voice. "Iâll go back to the house⌠just please, let me go."
Choerry cupped your face with both hands, her grip firm, her touch almost affectionate as she tilted your head forward. "Shh, donât fight it," she whispered, guiding you closer to Kazuhaâs glistening heat.
Kazuhaâs breath hitched, her fingers digging into the table as she trembled on the edge of release. "Be good for us," she murmured, her eyes glazed with pleasure. "Take all of me⌠just like a good little brother should."
As Kazuha neared her release, she tangled her fingers in your hair, yanking you closer until your face was pressed against her soaked heat. A shuddering gasp escaped her lips before turning into a breathy, desperate moan.
âFuckkâ! T-Take it all⌠donât you fucking dare pull away,â she whimpered, her thighs trembling as she rode out her high.
Her essence spilled over you, warm and relentless, coating your skin as the other sisters watched with dark delight. Laughter and whispers filled the air, their hungry gazes drinking in the sight of youâhelpless, drenched, and completely theirs.
Kazuhaâs grip was ruthless as she seized your face again, shoving you back onto the cold floor. Your wrists throbbed, skin raw from the restraints digging in, but none of them cared. Rei crouched beside you, her fingers trailing over the angry red marks with a mocking pout.
âThis is what happens to bad brothers,â she murmured, voice dripping with sickly sweetness. âYou shouldâve known better.â
You tried to scream for help, but before the sound could escape, Jo Yuri was already pressing a strip of tape over your lips. She smiled, tilting her head as she traced a finger along your cheek.
âGood boys stay quiet,â she whispered, her voice dripping with amusement.
Jo Yuri, though reveling in the punishment they were putting you through, was growing impatientâeager to claim her reward. Wasting no time, she rushed toward you, lowering herself onto your length with a slow, deliberate motion. At first, she moved cautiously, savoring the sensation, but it didnât take long before her pace quickened, her hunger becoming undeniable.
"Fuck, you feel so good,â Jo Yuri moaned, her voice dripping with satisfaction.
Your mind and body were already betraying you, blurring the lines between resistance and surrender. No matter how much you wanted to fight it, the pleasure was overpoweringâforcing you to forget, even for a moment, that these seven had turned your own apartment into a prison. And now, lost in the heat of the moment, you couldnât ignore the way one of your sisters wrapped around you so perfectly.
Ryujin and Miyeon knelt beside you, their gazes dark with possession as they claimed ownership over you. Ryujinâs fingers traced along your jaw before gripping it tightly, forcing you to meet her eyes.
âYouâre ours now,â she murmured, her voice laced with dangerous sweetness. âIf you even think about disobeying, weâll make your life a living hell.â
Miyeon leaned in, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, âAnd you wonât tell a single soul about what happened here. Not unless you want things to get even worse.â
All the while, Jo Yuri shifted her position, moving back in front of you without ever slowing her relentless pace, her eyes locked onto yours with a dangerous gleam.
Lisa scoffed, her grip tightening as she leaned in closer. âYouâll never have a girlfriend,â she said, her voice dripping with possessiveness. âIf you ever want to be with someone, it should be with usâyour step-sisters. Only us. No one else.â
She smiled, but there was nothing sweet about it. âAny other woman who tries to take you away? She wonât live to see another day.â
Jo Yuri then quickened her pace, sensing just how close you were. This time, there was no holding backâit was inevitable. A wicked smile curled on her lips as she turned to the others.
âHeâs about to cum,â she announced, her voice laced with excitement.
Without hesitation, she lifted herself off you, replacing the sensation with the warmth of her mouth. The rest of your sisters watched hungrily, biting their lips, tongues teasingly sticking out as they eagerly waited for your release.
It only took a few strokes before pleasure crashed over you. Your body tensed, and despite the tape sealing your lips, a desperate, muffled moan escapedâ
âMmmphâ! HaaahâŚ!â
Your climax spilled onto their expectant faces, their delighted giggles filling the room as they licked away every drop, satisfied with their claimed prize.
The sisters, now satisfied with their work, slowly removed the restraints from your wrists and peeled the tape from your mouth. But it didnât matterâyou were too weak to move, your body completely drained.
As you lay there, trying to catch your breath, one of them leaned in with a smug smile.
âWeâll be moving in tomorrow,â Miyeon announced casually, as if it were already decided. âSo make sure no one else comes here. This place belongs to us nowâjust like you do.
The sisters slipped back into their clothes, their satisfied smiles lingering as they slowly made their way out of your apartment. But Ryujin stayed behind, her eyes locked onto your exhausted form.
She crouched beside you, brushing a few strands of hair from your face before whispering, âThereâll be more moments like this⌠whether you like it or not.â
Pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, her hand trailed downward, fingers wrapping around your sensitive length. She gave it a slow, teasing stroke, her smirk widening.
She watched you with a wicked glint in her eyes, savoring the way your body twitched under her touch.
âCome on,â she coaxed, her voice sultry and commanding. âBe a good boy and cum for meâright now.â
She pumped faster, her thumb teasing over your most sensitive spot, determined to wring out every last drop. âI donât have all night,â she whispered against your ear. âSo give me everything before I go⌠unless you want the others to join in.â
With one last stroke, she pushed you over the edge, a satisfied smirk on her lips as she finally pulled away. Without another word, she stood up, adjusted her clothes, and walked outâleaving you panting, drained, and completely at their mercy.
As the last of your step-sisters walked out, the apartment fell silent, save for the lingering scent of them in the air. Your body was sore, your wrists still red from where they had bound you, yet the worst part wasnât the painâit was the realization that this wasnât over.
They had made that clear.
Tomorrow, they would return. Tomorrow, they would move in. Tomorrow, your life would no longer be your own.
You lay there, staring at the ceiling, your mind racing. Could you escape? Call for help? But even as the thoughts formed, you knew the truthâthere was no running from them. They had already decided. You belonged to them.
And deep down, despite everything, your body shivered at the thought.
#kpop yandere#male reader#yandere kpop#kpop story#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere blog#yandere stories#yandere x you#yandere x y/n#kpop smut#smut fanfiction#smut story#smutty smut smut#smut smut smut#female idol smut#girl group scenarios#girl group smut#blackpink smut#le sserafim smut#gidle smut#ive smut#itzy smut#jo yuri smut#smut x reader#yandere story#smut scenarios#smut#yandere x male reader#m reader
218 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Coffee and Journals
.ăťăâăť. Spencer Reid x F!Reader .ăťăâăť.

Summary: You step out of your comfort zone and meet a guy in a coffee shop who you somehow befriend, and end up in the theaters with him translating a Russian film.
A/N: omg this one is so cuteee, I love it lmk your thots<3
BYR(b4 u Reid): use of y/n, mentions of anxiety, readers never had a bf, inexperienced reader & Spencer, can be season 1 & 2 Spencer | none <- [warnings]
It started with a trip to the coffee shop.
You werenât supposed to be there, at least, not alone. You didn't go places alone. That was just how⌠things were. But it was a new year, and you were tired of every year being the same.
No new friends, no love interests, no new experiences.
You knew, deep down, that you couldn't keep living like this. The loneliness was starting to feel like a weight pressing down on you, making everything dull.
So, here you were, Ordering a drink at the register, by yourself. God, was your voice shaking?
âUm, can I get a-a regular iced latte?â You asked, trying not to sound as nervous as you felt. The cashier nodded, you paid, and that was it.
It was such a small thing ordering coffee, and youâve done it a lot of times just this time you didnât have the comfort of a friend right beside you. You were all alone.
You felt proud, proud that you left your home, came to the cafĂŠ alone, and now you were going to enjoy it at the shop.
You picked a small table, hands gripping your journal as you sat down, waiting for your order to be called. The cafÊ was a little too busy for comfort. Too many eyes, not on you, you knew that, but⌠it felt like they were.
You took a deep breath, opening your journal.
Do I look weird?
No, no. There were plenty of people doing the same thing. You werenât standing out.
After a few moments your drink was finally called, you stood up, going to grab it, only to find there was two.
The man beside you just looked at you unsure of which one was his and which one was yours.
âOh- um, Iâm not sure which is which.â He said, glancing between the two drinks. You looked at him, then at the cups, trying to find anything that could differentiate them. Nothing.
âUh, excuse me, which one is the iced coffee?â You asked the barista. âThey both are.â She answered flatly, like it was the dumbest question sheâd ever heard. Your stomach twisted immediately.
Great, now I sound stupid.
âWhich one has non-dairy milk?â The guy asked
The barista sighed, rolling her eyes. âI donât know, maybe that one.â She pointed to the cup on the right.
You and the guy exchanged a look.
âUm⌠I guess Iâll just take this one.â You mumbled, grabbing the drink you had originally reached for. You donât have any dairy problems, and didnât care for the kind of milk used so it wasnât too much of a problem.
You can hear the guy sigh as you walked away.
You sat down, watching him talk to the barista, clearly trying to get his order fixed. You couldnât blame him for being frustrated.
You refocused on your journal, writing down your thoughts about stepping out of your comfort zone. About how weird it felt. How anxious you still were, and how you hoped this wouldnât be another failed attempt at trying to change.
âHi, Iâm sorry, but do you mind if I have a seat?â
You looked up.
It was the non-dairy guy.
Your first instinct was to say no. You didnât want anyone sitting with you. This was already too much social interaction for one day.
Or you could just leave, but if you let yourself retreat, wouldnât that be losing? Wouldnât you end up right back where you started, lying in bed tonight, frustrated with yourself for failing at something as simple as existing in a public space ?
âOf course.â You said instead, nodding toward the empty chair.
He gave you a polite smile and sat down. You stole a glance at him. Tall, kind of lanky, brown hair, sharp features, hazel eyes. He didnât seem much older than you.
You tried to focus on your journal again, but it was hard with someone new in front of you.
âYou know, an iced coffee isnât something I normally get.â He said suddenly
You blinked, looking up.
He was talking to you.
âI usually just get a regular hot coffee.â He continued, like this was a totally normal thing to say to a stranger. âToday I wanted something different. And, well⌠you saw how that went.â
You let out an awkward little laugh, like the ones you give people when you arenât sure what to say.
Is he crazy? Why is he talking to me?
âI get it.â You said after a pause. âI donât usually get coffee on my own, and the one time I do, my coffee gets mixed with yours, and then the barista has a shitty attitude.â
That was relatable, right? That made sense?
Stop overthinking.
He smiled. âIâm Spencer Reid.â
First and last name, who does that?
âIâm y/n.â You said, giving him a small smile in return
you didn't give him your last name, it felt too formal, you guys also didn't shake hands which relieved you because those were always so awkward for you.
Almost all physical touch was awkward with you.
âI'll let you get back to work.â He said, pulling a book out of his bag.
âItâs not really work.â You admitted, which shocked you because you were trying to continue this conversation. âJust journaling.â
He glanced up again, nodding slightly. âStudies show that journaling can improve working memory, reduce stress, and even strengthen the immune system,â he said. âJames Pennebaker, a psychologist at the University of Texas, found that expressive writing helps people process traumatic events by organizing thoughts and emotions, which can lead to improved mental health and reduced anxiety.â
You stared at him.
âYeah⌠Thatâs kind of why Iâm trying it.â You said, giving a small smile.
You narrowed your eyes playfully. âHow do you know all that?â He just shrugged as if it was nothing âI read alot.â
âThatâs cool.â
âReally?â He smiled a little. âA lot of my friends think Iâm crazy, and that I should be spending more time doing other things.â
You shook your head. Well⌠okay, you did think he was a little crazy. But only because he could start a conversation so easily. You couldnât imagine doing that.
âNot crazy, I think itâs fascinating your brain is able to retain all that information.â
The two of you settled into silence after that. You wrote, he read. You noticed he was flying through pages at an insane speed.
Curiosity got the better of you.
âHow are you reading so fast?â You blurted out.
He looked up. âI can read 20,000 words a minute.â
Your eyes widened. âAre you lying?â
He laughed. âNo. I uh⌠I have an IQ of 187, so I think that helps a lot with my reading abilities.â
âThatâs like a superpower.â
âSome would say itâs the lamest one to have been given.â He joked, you shrugged. âMaybe. But I think itâs cool.â
And, honestly?
You were surprised by yourself.
A simple conversation. With a stranger.
A man, even.
ĘÉ
Over the next few months, you found yourself at the coffee shop at least three times a week. And almost every time, Spencer was there too.
At first, it felt like a coincidence, like an unspoken routine you both had fallen into without realizing. But eventually, he started waving you over when he spotted you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he gestured to the empty seat across from him. And, recently, you had started doing the same for him.
Youâd sit together, sometimes in silence, sometimes talking about what you were reading, new movies, or random events happening around town. It felt⌠easy.
âHowâs journaling been?â Spencer asked as he took a sip of his coffee and looked at you.
You glanced up from your book. âOh, itâs been really good. It actually helps a lot more than I thought it would.â
He nodded, thoughtful. âYeah, it helped me a lot too.â
âYou journal?â
He shrugged, shifting slightly in his seat. âI used to. Not as much anymore, but when I have the time, I try. I think itâs a good outlet, especially for people who struggle with intrusive thoughts, or high stress levels.â
âYou think only people who struggle journal?â You questioned
âNot necessarily.â He said, tilting his head slightly. âI mean, anyone can journal. But research suggests that people who journal regularly are often those who need a way to process their thoughts. It can help regulate emotions by engaging the prefrontal cortex, the part of the brain responsible for rational thinking. Thatâs why itâs often recommended for anxiety, PTSD, and even problem solving.â
You nodded slowly, letting his words sink in. âYeah⌠I think itâs helped me a lot with my anxiety.â
You werenât sure why you would say it, you never really talk about what you struggle with but somehow with Spencer it felt safe.
You looked up at him, Spencerâs eyes had softened, his expression shifting from analytical to something gentler. âThatâs good.â He said sincerely. âThank you for sharing that with me.â
You let out a small laugh, rubbing the back of your neck. âI think itâs obvious. I mean, Iâm constantly fidgeting, canât make eye contact, let alone hold a conversation with people.â You say as you look down at your hands
He shook his head. âYou donât seem that way with me.â His brows furrowed slightly.
âWell, yeah. Not anymore.â You admitted âWhen we first met and you asked to have a seat, I wanted so badly to say no, and even get up and leave.â
His mouth parted slightly before he quickly recovered. âReally?â
You nodded. âYeah. But I had to let you because if I hadnât, I wouldâve felt like I lost that day, and definitely wouldâve felt horrible about it. But⌠thankfully I did.â
For a moment, he just looked at you, processing your words. Then, the corners of his lips lifted into a small genuine smile. âIâm glad, glad that you let me sit with you.â
âIâm glad too.â
It felt strange, strange in a way that made your chest feel light and unfamiliar warmth settle in your stomach. Having someone new to talk to, someone who, despite barely knowing you, felt like they had been in your life forever.
Spencer made things easy. Talking to him didnât feel like a struggle, like you had to overthink every word before you said it. He listened. He never made you feel awkward or unsure.
Somehow, being around him made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you were figuring yourself out.
Both of your coffees were nearly empty now, the melted ice clinking softly against the cup. It meant this little hangout, or whatever you can call it, was coming to an end. And you didnât want it to.
Spencer shifted slightly in his seat, his fingers tapping lightly against his cup before he cleared his throat.
âUm, Y/n.â He said, voice softer than usual. You looked up at him, giving him a small, curious smile. âYeah?â
He hesitated for half a second, then pushed his hair behind his ear, a habit you noticed. âThereâs this old film playing at the theaters. Itâs not far from here. I was wondering if youâd like to go?â He paused, glancing down at his hands before quickly adding âItâs in Russian, though, so if youâd like, I can translate it for you.â
âRussian?â You asked, raising an eyebrow.
He nodded, his lips twitching up slightly. âYeah. If you donât want to, thatâs fine, I just- I thought it would be nice.â He said as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck.
You bit your lip, trying to hold back a smile. âIâve never seen a Russian film before, but I do like the theaters. And if youâre offering to translate, Iâd love to go.â
Spencer let out a breath, his shoulders relaxing like he had been holding it in without realizing. âYeah?â His voice was lighter, hopeful.
You nodded. âYeah.â
His lips parted, like he was about to say something else, but he just nodded quickly instead. âAlright. Um. I can pick you up? If youâre comfortable with that, of course.â
You could see the way he was watching you carefully, waiting for any sign of hesitation. But there wasnât any. Not with him.
âNo, yeah, Iâm fine with that.â You said, a soft warmth settling in your chest.
Spencerâs fingers tapped against the table before he spoke again. âCan I-uh-can I have your number? Just so we can communicate better.â
You smiled, reaching for your phone. âYeah.â
ĘÉ
Spencer arrived at exactly 8:00 p.m, right on time. When you opened the door, he stood there with his hands in his pockets, rocking slightly on his heels before offering a small, shy smile.
âHi.â He said softly
âHi.â You echoed, feeling your pulse quicken.
You both walk towards his car, and to your surprise he opened the door for you. It was a small gesture, but it made something warm settle in your chest.
Was he just being polite, or did it mean something more? You didnât want to overthink it, didnât want to confuse kindness for something else.
At the theaters, Spencer insisted on paying for your ticket. When you offered to cover snacks instead, he shook his head. âNo, really, itâs fine.â He said, handing over his card before you could argue.
âOkay, well, now we have to go somewhere else after this. My treat.â You said, crossing your arms.
He tilted his head, considering for a moment. âWe could get ice cream after?â He suggested.
You smiled. âThat sounds nice.â
As the movie started, Spencer leaned in slightly, quietly translating the dialogue for you. At first, it was just a whisper here and there, but soon he got really into it, his voice subtly changing to mimic different characters, his hands gesturing slightly as he explained a scene.
You let out a small laugh.
âWhat?â He asked, turning to you with a small smile.
You shrugged, grinning. âYouâre so good at translating. And getting into character, itâs honestly amazing.â
His expression shifted, something like pride flashing in his eyes before he looked down for a second, almost bashful. âOh. Thank you.â He said, meeting your gaze again.
You hadnât realized how close the two of you had leaned in until the moment. His hazel eyes held yours, the sounds of the movie fading into the background. Your breath hitched, and you quickly shifted in your seat, breaking the moment.
Spencer cleared his throat softly before returning to translating, but you could tell heâd noticed it too.
When the movie ended, you tossed the empty popcorn bucket and drinks into the trash bin. âSo howâd you like the movie?â Spencer asked as you both walked towards the exit.
âIt was really good, I didnât expect to like it as much as I did.â You truthfully answered.
Spencer smiled, as he opened the door for you to exit the building. âThey play foreign films here once a month. Iâd be happy to come with you again. We could watch together.â
âIâd love that, itâll be really fun.â
âYeah.â He nodded. âI love films, and translating stuff.â
âI could tell.â You teased, giggling softly.
He glanced at you, something hesitant in his expression. âStill up for that ice cream?â
âAre you?â You asked. âIf you donât want to, itâs okay.â
âNo-no I want to.â He assured you quickly. âI just wasnât sure if you still wanted to.â
âI do.â
He nodded, a relieved smile tugging at his lips. âPerfect. I can leave the car parked, and we can walk to one?â
âThat sounds good.â
As the two of you walked side by side down the sidewalk, you glanced up at him. âDo you usually go to these movies alone?â
He shrugged. âYeah. Sometimes my friends join, but most times, itâs just me.â
That made you frown slightly. You didnât understand how someone like him, someone so interesting, so kind, could go alone so often.
âWell, now you wonât have to.â You said looking up at him. He turned his head to you, a flicker of something soft in his expression. His stomach fluttered at your words.
As you both walked, your hand brushed against his. Instinctively, you pulled it back, quickly intertwining your fingers together in front of you. âSorry.â You murmured.
Spencer shook his head. âNo, itâs fine.â
You nodded, slowly letting your hands fall back to your sides. He noticed the way you kept fidgeting.
âYou donât have to be nervous.â He said.
You blinked. âHmm?â
He glanced at you, his brows slightly furrowed in thought. âI can tell youâre nervous.â
Your stomach tightened slightly. âHow?â
âLittle things.â He said simply. âLike biting your lip, looking around a lot, touching the hem of your shirt.â He pointed out each thing, and you hadnât even realized you were doing them.
âOh.â You laughed softly, a little embarrassed. âI just- I donât know. This is the first time Iâve ever gone out with someone who isnât my friend.â
Spencer tilted his head, his lips twitching up slightly. âOh? I thought we were friends.â He teased.
Your eyes widened slightly. âNo-no, we are friends! I just meant my other friends.â You rushed to explain.
He chuckled. âI know what you meant. Itâs okay.â
Then, he stopped walking.
You took a few more steps before realizing and turned to face him. âWhat?â
He shook his head, his gaze fixed on you with something unreadable.
You frowned. âWhat?â You asked again, playfully nudging his shoulder.
Spencer let out a small laugh, but then his expression grew more serious. âI like hanging out with you.â He admitted. His voice was quieter now, more thoughtful.
âAnd I donât want to scare you, but⌠the little time weâve spent together, at the cafĂŠ, and now today watching this movie, itâs made me just want to be around you more.â
Your breath caught in your throat. No one has ever said something like that to you before.
Your heart pounded as you swallowed, suddenly unsure of what to say. âOh. ThatâsâŚnice.â
Spencerâs lips pressed together, and you could tell he was waiting for something more, something deeper. And you wanted to say more, you really did. But fear gripped you.
âSpencer, I-i feel a lot of things right now.â You admit, your voice barely above a whisper. âI feel nervous, scared, excited, happy- I can really go on. But Iâve never had a male friend before, never been in a relationship, and what am I saying? I could be misinterpreting this whole situation, you meant as a friend right? Like- you donât mean romantically want to be around me more?â You were rambling, your words spilling out before you could stop them.
Your face was flushed, ears burning.
Spencer took a small step closer.
Your breath hitched.
âIâd like to get to know you better.â He said carefully, his voice steady. âAnd⌠see where we go.â
His hand found your elbow, gently squeezing it, his touch was warm and reassuring.
Your lips parted slightly. âReally? With me?â
It felt unreal.
Unreal that anyone could possibly see you in a romantic way, no one ever has.
Spencer nodded âWith you.â
You exhaled, your heart racing. âIâve never, Iâve never been in a situation like this. No ones ever wanted something with me before.â
âWellâŚI do.â He gave you a small, soft smile.
Your hands trembled slightly as you rubbed your face. Your chest felt tight, and your mind raced with thoughts you couldnât untangle.
âSpencer, you donât understand.â You whispered, your voice barely holding steady. âI donât know how to be with someone. I donât know what people do when theyâre getting to know each other, I donât- I donât know.â Your words tumbled out, laced with panic, with doubt.
Spencer took another step closer to you, his expression soft but steady. âYou do.â He said gently âWe do it all the time. Every time we sit together in the cafĂŠ, every time we talk, every time we share something about ourselves, thatâs us getting to know each other.â
You swallowed, looking at him, searching for some kind of reassurance in his face. He seemed so sure of what he was saying, so certain.
âBut I donât know what Iâm doing.â You admitted, your voice cracking. âI could mess it up.â
Spencer shook his head, his eyes never leaving yours. âY/n, Iâve never been in a relationship either.â His voice was soft but unwavering. âI donât have all the answers, I know just as much as you do. But thatâs okay. We can figure it out together.â
Your breath hitched as you stared at him. He meant it, every word. There was no hesitation, no doubt in his voice.
âAll we have to do.â He continued âis keep doing what weâve been doing. Spending time together, learning more about each other. And when weâre both ready, weâll navigate whatever comes next. Thereâs no pressure, no expectations⌠just us.â
Something inside you shifted, something warm, something terrifying, something new.
You looked into his eyes, trying to believe in what he was saying. In him.
âOkay.â You whispered
A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, his shoulders relaxing just slightly, as if heâd been waiting for that answer.
âOkay.â He echoed, as if sealing the moment between you.
For a few seconds, neither of you moved. The streetlights cast a soft glow around you, the distant hum of the city filling the silence. Then, without thinking, Spencer reached out, not hesitantly, not awkwardly, just gently, and let his fingers brush against yours.
It wasnât a grand gesture. It wasnât overwhelming. It was just enough. . .
hope you guys enjoyed this one <3
Tag list
@alastorssimp
~ also if you guys want to be tagged in all of my SR fics just lmk and I would love to ~
read all my other works here<3
#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#bau team#criminal minds fandom#criminal minds fic#spencer reid series#spencer reid#spencer reid angst#spencer reid criminal minds#spencer reid fandom#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid scenario#criminal minds bau#criminal minds spencer reid#spencer reid blurb#spencer reid smut#spencer x reader#fan fic writing#spencer reid thoughts#matthew gray gubler#mgg#quantico#fan fiction#sweet#fan fic stuff#spencer reid headcanon
275 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Aaron's Speech
Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader Genre: whump, prepare your tissues kind of whump. hurt to comfort? what's comfort anyways? Summary: Aaron was certain he knew what love was - until Haley died. He loves you. But he still loves her, too. Warnings: clear signs of deep depression, PTSD, trauma, self-neglet, survivor's guilt, grief, mentions of 5Ă01 and 5Ă09 Please please please do not interact with this fic if you struggle with any of these. Word Count: 3.9k Dado's Corner: I... I don't know. It's a lot. Grab your tissues. This might be the most heart-wrenching thing I've ever written⌠and honestly, Iâm a little scared of my own brain for managing to hallucinate this. I went back and forth on whether to post it because it just felt too much... :)))) I ended up adding a little extra at the end (something fluffy & domestic) just to take the edge off. But itâs still bittersweet. More bitter than sweet.
masterlist(s)
Plato wrote, "I mean to propose that each of us in turn, going left to right, shall make a speech in honor of Love."
Aaron wasnât sure how to make sense of the fact that the very job that had stripped him down to nothing was also the reason he could still touch you like this.
That the same job that had taken⌠her, that had nearly taken his son - was also the reason he could still slip under the covers with you and lose himself just enough to relieve the stress of your days.
It wasnât intimacy, not really.
Not in the way it was meant to be.
It was a release, a fleeting reprieve from the thoughts that never stopped, from the memories that threatened to drown him if he let them sit too long.
Sometimes, it was rough - driven by nothing but the desperate need to feel something, anything. Other times, it was slower, gentler.
But one thing never changed - he always kept his shirt on.
A week ago, it had been long sleeves. The scars were only on his torso, but for a long time, that hadnât mattered. He had fought the urge to cover everything, to disappear beneath the fabric.
He felt dirty. He was dirty.
Didnât want to see them. Didnât want you to see them.
The only times you had were when he had no choice - when he was too weak, too drained to tend to them himself.
Then came the day he finally found the courage to face his reflection in the mirror. When he told you he could handle it now - that he had to - you hadnât argued. You had only pressed a soft kiss to his lips before watching him disappear into the bathroom. You didnât say a word. You trusted him. Had to trust him.
And when he came back, you kissed him again.
You still did. Every time.
Even today.
It had become a ritual â an ineffable Iâm proud of you, a way to be close without needing to be there physically. Because even if you werenât, your mind always went there.
You hoped he applied the medication carefully.
Hoped that, in tending to himself, he showed the same meticulous care he gave to you - the way he would sit you in a warm bath, wash your hair, run his hands over your skin with a gentleness so at odds with how he treated himself.
He gave you devotion. You wished he gave himself even half of it.
You hoped that every time you heard the water running, it was only to sterilize his hands - that he wasnât standing over the sink, letting the antiseptic swirl down the drain, just enough to make it seem used, just enough to fool you. You knew he wasnât stupid.
You had been more cautious ever since the day he caught you in the bathroom, turning the bottle over in your hands, checking for dents, for any proof that he was actually using it.
He hadnât been angry. He understood. It wasnât about distrust - not really.
If the roles were reversed, he knew he would have done the same.
âŚNo, actually, he didnât even need to imagine reversing them. He had checked. More than once. Because he wasnât sure if he trusted himself anymore.
Because ever since he started tending to them on his own, he never let you see his scars again.
Maybe some subconscious part of him feared that if you did, you wouldnât want him anymore.
Or maybe because he didnât want to remind you - of what had happened to him, of the fear in your eyes, of the way your hands had trembled the first time they traced the edges of his pain.
Or maybe it wasnât even about you.
Maybe he was afraid that if you saw them again, your mind would go back to the past, to the before, to all the things he lostâŚ
âŚAnd, inevitably, to her.
Haley was only a problem because he made her one.
She was never a threat to you. You had never felt the need to compete with her because you understood something he probably never would: that a heart as vast as his had room for both of you.
That was simply part of loving him - even before everything that happened, even when they were just divorced - loving him meant sharing space in his heart with Haley.
And that was enough. More than enough. You never needed or wanted all of it.
He was the one who couldnât reconcile it.
One true love.
It had been carved into him as a child, a belief so deeply rooted that no amount of logic could ever fully undo it. Sure, he could scoff at it now, call it outdated, tell himself he was too rational to believe in something so absolute.
But some lies told to us as children settle too deep to simply unlearn, and for Aaron, it was this: that love - true love - could only happen once.
And he hated that it had been her.
Not because he regretted loving her, but because it made him feel as though loving you somehow diminished that first love - or worse, that it made you her replacement.
You werenât.
You were nothing like her. You were only you.
And yet, both of you had looked at him with the same kind of eyes - the kind that saw too much, worried too much.
And sometimes, despite himself, he wondered if that was why he fell in love with you.
Because of those eyes. To keep those eyes in his life.
But just as quickly as the thought came, so did the guilt. Not just because it wasnât true, but because his mind had dared to go there at all.
âŚBut if it had gone there, it meant some part of him believed it.
And he hated that.
Hated overanalyzing it.
Hated the way his own mind twisted something simple, something pure, into something that needed justification.
Hated that he had to dissect his love for you just to convince himself it was real, when he already knew it was.
Because it was real.
He hadnât fallen in love with you because of anything you shared with her - he had fallen for you because of everything that made you you. Maybe he had even fallen harder once he realized that.
If Reid could see inside his head, he would have some scientific explanation for all of this. Something about neurochemistry.
He would tell him that guilt was irrational, that love was nothing more than a biological process designed to make humans bond, reproduce, and survive.
But that was what he hated most.
Not the surviving part. Not just the thought of contributing to the same human species that had created the kind of monsters he locked away every day.
Though, on the worst nights⌠maybe that too.
What he hated was the idea that it all boiled down to a few chemical formulas, a handful of Câs and Oâs arranged on a page. That somewhere out there, a person could take one look at the sequence and know him, know the core of who he was.
Bullshit. That couldn't be possible.
Not when he wasnât even sure he had a core anymore.
What was there to read?
Aaron had spent a lifetime believing love was what the poets described - the grand, the eternal, the tragic. Yet only⌠after everything that happened⌠had he begun to understand what they truly meant.
The Greek tragedies, the sonnets - some resonated so deeply now they ached, others felt so hollow he wondered how heâd ever admired them⌠how he had ever believed love could be so naĂŻve.
Maybe, in the end, a few chemical bonds and molecular chains would have been simpler. Maybe they would have told him more about himself than poetry ever could.
How simple it was - that the tears he left on your skin, warm against your sternum as he pressed his face into you, could be reduced by science to nothing more than water and salt.
As if that could explain why he was crying.
As if it could account for the guilt gnawing at him, the shame of being allowed to break against you while your own tears slipped down your cheeks, unseen, as you stared at the ceiling.
As if it could break down the only closeness he could offer now - the desperate act of syncing his unsteady breaths to yours.
He just wanted to be your rock again.
Maybe science had a way to explain the guilt - the shame of falling apart in your arms, of letting you hold him, pull him closer, your fingers threading through strands of hair that hadnât been this long in three years.
And then, the moment your hands unconsciously drifted too low - past the nape of his neck, following the path they once knew so well, tracing the lines of his back-
It wasnât you touching him anymore.
But it was you. You were safe. You were here.
And still, his body jerked up.
It wasnât fair.
No matter how much he wanted to surrender to your touch again, no matter how much he wished he could unlearn the fear, his body still braced for a blade instead of your hands.
Maybe science had a way to explain why.
Maybe it could name the way his body had learned to fear something it once - and still - craved more than anything.
Maybe there was a chemical formula that could define the way you both whispered "sorry" at the same time whenever it happened.
Maybe there was an equation, an angle, a perfect placement for the carbon bonds that could explain why, after flinching, after failing, he reached for your wrist. Why he brought it to his lips, pressed a kiss to the thundering pulse beneath your skin.
The skin was thinner there.
Maybe, if he kissed deep enough, his apology would sink into your bloodstream, carried by the oxygen in your blood, traveling through your veins until it reached your heart - so youâd know.
That he loved you.
He loved you, he loved you, he loved you.
And he needed you.
Needed your hands back on every inch of his skin - even on the places his mind dragged him back to, bleeding out on the carpet of his own living space, where he was assault-
âAaron.â
âHmm.â
âI want hot chocolate.â You shifted, sitting up on the bed, stretching your arms above your head. âAnd I need your help cutting the chocolate. Come on.â
Nothing still.
So you reached over, patted his head, ruffling his hair. âYou know I never get the pieces small enough⌠get up.â
You didnât even like chocolate that much.
But he did.
Aaron Hotchner, with his unreadable expressions and haunted eyes, had the biggest sweet tooth you had ever known.
It was one of the first things you noticed about him - the way heâd sneak sugar into his coffee when he thought no one was looking, the way he never turned down dessert, the way heâd order an extra pastry under the guise of âJack will like thisâ when Jack wasnât even there.
Hot chocolate was easy.
Because cutting chocolate into tiny, even pieces was something his hands could still do.
The day he finally handled a knife again without flinching, you had seized every possible excuse to make him keep doing it - to ease him back into muscle memory, to give his hands something to focus on. Just like now.
Him, and all of his ghosts, disappearing into the rhythm of slicing through a bar of fondant chocolate.
"See? When you cut it this small, the chocolate doesnât fray. How do you do that?" You leaned in, watching him work. âWait, was this your specialty back in SWAT?â
Nothing. Again.
God forbid anyone joke about his very secretive time in an all-men squad of alpha males, big guns, tactical gear, night vision-
âYou want me to show you?â
You nodded.
You expected him to explain from where he stood, maybe demonstrate with another piece - but you hadn't expected him to step behind you. Once, maybe, but not now.
And yet, here he was.
Did not expect to feel his warmth again - his body against yours, his chest flush to your back, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear, his huge hands slipping over yours, guiding them to the handle of the knife.
"Itâs in the pressure," he said, curling his fingers around yours, adjusting your grip. "Too much, and it crumbles. Too little, and it slips. You want the blade to do the work."
Damn. It was so intimate, so familiar-
God, this felt like⌠like one of your first dates. Back when he was still - no.
You swallowed, pushed the thought away, and focused. Followed his movement, feeling the blade glide through the chocolate beneath your fingertips - clean, effortless - perfect.
Just like his.
"There," he murmured. "Like that." And then, a kiss to your hair. "You did good."
So did he. God, he did. And you were so proud of him.
So you picked up one of the pieces he had helped you cut, rolling it between your fingers before holding it out to him.
"Quality check."
You had never fought back tears so hard as when you felt it - the smallest huff of breath against your hair. A sound, barely there, but unmistakable.
The closest thing to a laugh you'd heard from him all day.
You would cut all the chocolate in the world if it meant hearing that sound again.
And maybe you would - because he could have easily taken the piece from your hand himself.
But he didnât.
Instead, his lips ghosted over your fingertips, his tongue dragging over your skin far too slowly as he caught the chocolate - before his teeth closed down, just sharp enough to be obnoxious.
That stupid bite.
Familiar.
The same bite that always made you swat him away, roll your eyes, mutter his name in exasperation.
The same bite that caught your fingertips every single time you offered him one of your fries, because Aaron Hotchner - who pretended to be far too above it - always ordered a salad as a side, only to spend the whole meal subtly eyeing your plate.
He would never ask for one, of course. God forbid.
So you always caved, sighing as you picked up a fry and held it out toward him, fully intending to place it onto his plate like a normal person.
But he never let you.
Instead, he would catch your fingers midair, biting down - not hard, but enough to make you yelp, enough to make your head snap toward him, enough to make you curse his name loud enough that the people at the next table would turn to look.
And then - as if he hadnât just eaten out of your damn fingers in public â heâd sit back, napkin in hand, dabbing the corner of his mouth.
âShh,â heâd say. âWeâre at a fancy place. Canât you see there are no prices on your menu?â
Condescending. Smirking. Like he wasnât the one causing all the drama.
The same insufferable piece of shit he had always been.
And maybe thatâs why you didnât swat him away this time.
Maybe thatâs why you just stood there, breath caught in your throat, only managing to turn around and stare at the glimpse of a ghost you hadnât expected to see.
You knew it was temporary, just a matter of time before the weight settled back over him. But still- still, for a moment, you just watched.
His kitchen was now so quiet you could hear the crisp snap of chocolate between his teeth, the exaggerated hum of approval he always did just to startle you, always holding eye contact, watching â waiting - like your reaction was more satisfying than the chocolate itself.
âWhat?â he asked, furrowing his brows.
Under the yellow glow of the kitchen lights, his eyes looked lighter - a softer brown, warm in a way you hadnât seen in far too long. You could see the few flecks of green â a similar shade of the untouched, steamed bitter greens he always left on his plate at fancy restaurants.
Could you even tell him?
Could you say that, for just a second, he wasnât trapped in his own head, and that alone made you want to cry?
Of course not.
So you just shook your head, swallowing the lump in your throat.
"Nothing," you murmured, turning back to the counter. "JustâŚ. don't think you're getting more if you're gonna keep biting me."
âThen maybe you should stop feeding me like a child.â He huffed, leaned against the counter next to you, unbothered⌠almost â smug?
Hotchner humor. This must be Christmas.
"Oh, forgive me, Your Royal Highness, how would you prefer to be fed?"
"Well, if I had to suggest somethingâŚ" he drawled, gaze dropping to your lips, "you could be more creative with it."
No way. You couldnât believe it.
"Creative?"
He nodded. "Mhm."
No way.
You picked up half a piece of chocolate, pressed it between your lips - hesitated.
Maybe this was too much. Maybe the moment would crack, fragile as it was. Maybe youâd gone too far, been too reckless.
But still, you held his gaze, tilting your head ever so slightly, offering.
And waiting.
Before you even realized it, his lips were on yours, closing over the other half of the chocolate, pressing just enough to steal more than you had offered.
Asshole.
But God, did he take his time.
His tongue flickered over the chocolate, then back over you â unhurried - before he finally pulled away, his breath still so close you could almost taste the cocoa all over again. Wow.
ââŚCreative enough?â you managed.
Aaron slowly ran his tongue over his half-brown bottom lip. "Itâs a start."
âŚA start.
Maybe it was. It felt like one.
Also because Aaron stayed close, studying your face, searching for something in your eyes.
If he found what he was looking for, he didnât say. He just looked at you a moment longer and gave you one last smile.
A goodbye - not to you, but to your eyes, because in that moment, they looked too much like hers.
And maybe a part of him had always been waiting for this moment - when he could finally look into that gaze, your gaze, and know without hesitation that it wasnât hers. That it had never been.
So he let go of the thought.
He reached past you, plucking another piece of chocolate from the cutting board and popping it into his mouth like nothing had happened.
Like he hadnât just left something behind.
"You should finish cutting the rest," he said, unfazed by your exasperated "Aaron."
"Me?"
"You did well enough." He nodded, though you knew him well enough to catch the hint of teasing in his voice. "Besides, I should get the milk on the stoveâŚ. canât have you burning it again."
You scoffed. "That was one time, and only because your stove is way too strong."
"You say that every time you cook here⌠which, if Iâm counting correctly, is once a week."
"Youâre exaggerating," you muttered, but you still reached for the knife, rolling your eyes as you started chopping again.
Silence.
Silence until Aaron turned toward you as he poured the milk into the pot.
"âŚThank you for what youâre doing for me. I donât say it enough⌠not out loud."
You glanced up, smiling. "Itâs all you, Aaron. Iâm not doing anything."
âBullshit.â He turned, eyeing the cutting board. âYouâre cutting the chocolate.â
Before you could respond, he reached over and plucked a piece from the pile, popping it into his mouth.
"Really?" you deadpanned.
He stole another.
"This one was uneven," he said, completely straight-faced.
And then another.
"Do you even want hot chocolate, or are you just here to rob me blind?"
Aaron smirked - and for once, it would have been so damn nice to just enjoy seeing his dimples - if only he hadnât, completely unrepentantly, reached for yet another piece.
You swatted his hand before he could grab it. "Oh my God, you really are just here to rob me blind."
Defeated, Aaron turned back to the stove, deciding it was safer to keep his hands occupied. He stirred the milk with far more focus than necessary... so much so that you half-wondered if he was trying to churn it into cream.
Maybe if he just kept moving, he could resist the temptation of another impromptu quality check⌠hopefully.
Or maybe, it wasnât about the chocolate at all.
"Do you really think youâre not doing anything?" he asked. His eyes were still on the pot, but the way he had slowed his stirring - no longer overcompensating, no longer distrac-
"You are," he continued, looking at you. "Youâre here. You stayed. And thatâs⌠thatâs more than I knew how to ask for."
"You can ask, you know," you murmured. "You need to say the words, Aaron."
Someone else had told him the exact same words once.
And still, he hadnât learned how to listen.
Maybe he never would.
Maybe it was just the way he was - stubborn in his silence, in his inability to believe he was allowed to need something, someone.
But still, he cared.
He cared in the way he stole more chocolate than he should have - not just because of his sweet tooth, but because he knew you didnât like it that much. Or at least, thatâs what he told himself.
Because he didnât want the taste to overpower, didnât want to make it too rich when he knew youâd only take a few sips before pushing your cup toward him, like you always did.
He cared in the way he let the chocolate sit on the stove just a little longer, thickening the way you preferred it.
In the way he never stopped you, even when you added far more cinnamon than he would have chosen for himself.
In the way he didnât say a word.
Maybe he should. He needed to say the words. Maybe just start with some.
And so his grip tightened around the mug, the heat pressing into his palms, seeping into his skin.
He could feel it, the warmth.
He had never noticed before how much he liked the way it settled in his fingers, how it grounded him, how it made him feel⌠alive.
Like he was rediscovering - all over again - that if he held on too long, it would burn.
And it did.
Science might explain it as heat conduction - the transfer of thermal energy from the liquid to the ceramic, from the ceramic to his skin, exciting the molecules in his nerve endings until they fired signals to his brain, warning him of the impending risk of tissue damage.
A perfectly rational, biological response.
But not everything he felt could be charted in nerve endings and synapses, reduced to chemical reactions or evolutionary instinct.
Some things defied explanation.
âI love you.â
âLove you too, Aaron.â
Good luck to the scientists trying to reduce that to a handful of chemical bonds and neural pathways.
Maybe they could try.
Theyâd still get it wrong.
Ineffable.
taglist: @beata1108 ; @c-losur3 ; @fangirlunknown ; @hayleym1234 ; @justyourusualash ; @khxna ; @kyrathekiller ; @lostinwonderland314 ; @mxblobby ; @oxforce ; @percysley ; @person-005 ; @prettybaby-reid ; @reidfile ; @royalestrellas ; @ssa-callahan ; @softestqueeen ; @theseerbetweenus ; @todorokishoe24
Phi's Corner: Iâm sorry if this made you cry⌠as an apology, Iâm sending each of you a piece of focaccia... let me know if you want it with or without olives.
#dado 400#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner#hotch#criminal minds#hotch x reader#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner imagine
169 notes
¡
View notes
Text
â Always You
Billie Eilish x fem! Reader
âYouâve always had a crush on your best friend Billie but could never find a way to tell her. You just didnât think she felt the same or that youâd be the one. Itâll never be you, or will it?â


Warnings - lots of angst and jealousy (get some tissues guys)
ââââââââââââââââââââ
You and Billie have been best friends since you were six years old. Youâve known her just as long as Zoe has, but unlike Zoe, your relationship with Billie is more complicated and more serious. Youâve always had a tiny crush on her, but you never told her. You were afraid of ruining the friendship, and even more afraid of rejection. So, you buried those feelings deep down, convincing yourself youâd forgotten about them.
But you hadnât.
When Billie became famous, everything changed. Her rise to stardom only complicated the feelings you thought youâd moved past. Every time you saw her on stage or in the spotlight, it was like those buried emotions resurfaced, stronger than before. It even enraged you when youâd see her flirt with so many people, especially women. It was like a punch to the gut each time, the reality of her new world far removed from the one you two had built together.
Youâd always been there for her through her past relationships, but you never liked anyone she dated. They werenât good enough for her, you told yourself. You were the one who truly understood her, the one whoâd been there through it all. You convinced yourself for years that you were all she needed, that you were good enough for herâyou just couldnât tell her that.
But then came Coachella. That day, your emotions reached a boiling point when you saw Billie being all flirty with Odessa and Quen. It was like you couldnât hold it in any longerâthe jealousy, the longing, the fear that maybe it would never be you. After watching her take turns kissing both of them, something inside you snapped. Youâd seen enough. You ran off the stage, your heart pounding in your chest. You heard Zoe call out to you, her voice barely cutting through the blaring music, but you didnât care. You just couldnât be there anymore. Billie didnât even notice. She was too caught up in the moment, dancing and enjoying herself, oblivious to the storm building inside you.
Would it even matter if she had noticed? Would she follow after you? The questions swirled in your mind as you pushed through the crowd, your thoughts racing faster than your legs could carry you. As much as you wanted to leave, it dawned on you that you had a ride with Billie and her friends, and they werenât exactly in the mood to leave, unlike you. Even though it was dark outside, it was still early, and Coachella was far from over.
You pulled out your phone and quickly called a Lyft. Unfortunately, it was going to be 20 minutes until it arrived. You sighed in frustration. You were ready to get out of here. You kept hearing Billie shouting into the mic, her voice cutting through the noise of the crowd. The more you heard her talk, the more the tears fell, unbidden, down your face.
Thatâs when you saw a streak of brown hair approach you slowly. Your vision was blurry from the tears, but you recognized herâClaudia. She looked at you with concern, worry in her eyes.
âAre you okay?â She asked, gently placing her hand on your shoulder.
âI saw you run off stage. Whatâs going on?â
âNothing,â you said quickly, wiping your eyes and avoiding her gaze. You hoped she wouldnât notice, but your voice betrayed you.
âI can clearly see youâre crying, Y/N. Zoe told Billie you ran off. Sheâs worried about you.â
Sure, she is, you thought bitterly. You forced a weak laugh, wiping your nose on your sleeve.
âShe said sheâs going to talk to you as soon as sheâs done.â
That was it. You snapped. The frustration, the hurt, the years of suppressed feelingsâeverything came crashing down on you.
âYeah, right!â You yelled, your voice cracking with raw emotion. âShe doesnât care about me or my feelings!â You stepped back, shaking your head. âI canât do this anymore, Claudia. I just canât.â
Claudiaâs confusion deepened. âWhat do you mean?â
You paused for a moment, wiping your eyes. Were you actually going to tell her? Youâd never told anyone except your sister, who pretty much knew before you did that you liked Billie. You took a deep breath, gathering your nerves.
âI like her, Claud,â you finally muttered, the words slipping out before you could even fully process them.
Claudiaâs eyes widened, her drink falling to the ground as she stepped back, stunned. âYou what?â She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
âI like her,â you repeated, your heart pounding. âLike, like her. For a while now,â you admitted, the weight of your confession heavy on your chest. âBut I never told her because I didnât think sheâd feel the same, and I tried to forget about it, but I just canât.â
The words kept tumbling out, and once you started, it felt like there was no stopping them. âShe makes it so hard not to like her. Everything she does mesmerizes me. Sheâs so beautiful and kind, and she has the most beautiful eyes Iâve ever seen in my life. Every time I look into them, I wanna tell her how I feel, but I donât. I didnât want her to reject me or, worse, ruin our friendship. But Iâm pretty sure after tonight, our friendshipâs pretty much over. Because she doesnât give a damn about me or how I feel, and if she does, sheâs got a funny way of showing it.â
You wiped away more tears, your face flushed from the outburst.
Claudia stood there in stunned silence, her eyes softening as she watched you, tears threatening to fall from her own eyes, despite the alcohol still buzzing through her. She didnât say anything for a moment, but you could see her processing what you had said. She reached out slowly, pulling you into a hug. You didnât even realize how badly you needed it until she wrapped her arms around you.
âI never knew any of this,â she said into the crook of your neck. You could smell the alcohol on her, but you didnât care. âAnd youâre wrong about one thing,â she pulled away slightly, looking at you seriously. âShe does care about you.â
You didnât want to believe her. You couldnât. âNo, she doesnât. If she didââ
âShe does, Y/N. All she ever talks about when sheâs with me and Finneas is youâwhat youâre doing, what you guys are talking about. Iâm telling you, youâre always on her mind.â
You shook your head in disbelief. âThen how come every time weâre together, sheâs always focused on something else or someone else?â
âSheâs busy, you know that.â
âYeah, too busy for me, I see,â you said sadly.
Suddenly, your phone buzzed. You glanced at it: your Lyft was about to pull up.
âEnough about this, Claudia. Iâm going back to the hotel to pack my things,â you said, taking a few steps toward the pick-up area.
âWhat? No!â she yelled, trying to pull you back.
âAs I said, I canât do this anymore. Itâs never going to be me, Claud. And Iâm done trying,â you told her firmly, walking toward the Lyft. Claudia didnât follow you. She just stood there, her expression a mix of sadness and concern, watching you leave. You glanced back at her one last time before climbing into the backseat.
âIf she really cares about me, like you say, then sheâd be right here, talking to me, trying to stop me from leaving. But sheâs not,â you said, gesturing toward the stage where Billie was performing.
âSheâs not, is she?â you whispered to yourself, before shutting the door behind you and leaving Claudia standing there, as the car sped off toward the hotel.
#billie eilish#billie x reader#billie elish icons#billie ellish lyrics#billie eilish fanfiction#billie eilish fluff#billie eilish smut#billie eilish angst#billie eilish x fem!reader#billie eilish x you#billie eilish imagine#billie eilish x y/n#Billie Eilish x female reader#billie eilish blurb
216 notes
¡
View notes
Text
driver, roll up the partition, please!

includes. SMUT 18+, paige bueckers x fem! reader. public setting still somewhat private, oral, drunk and nasty, little bit of sub paige, praise and begging, grinding, makeup smudging, just all over each otherâŚ
about. after your girlfriend gets drafted number one overall, neither of you have the patience to wait until the afterparty. surely the driver wonât mind if paige celebrates a little early⌠right?
ju speaks. incase you didnât know, i am @ohbueckers :) mama had to make a whole new blog, but sheâs back! this is a bit of filth but i havenât wrote any good smut in so long so i poured it all out here lol. p gets drafted in less than a month, letâs cope the right way, amen!
âDriver, roll up the partition, please!â
She says it all politely, like her lips arenât as red as a cherry and swollen, like your hands havenât untucked and found their way up under her dress shirt, nails scraping over the ridges of her abs, like she hasnât been grinding against you for the last two blocks, all while tasting like champagne and every bad decision you were always going to make tonight. Your leg is hiked up over her lap, and sheâs been kissing you like she doesnât give a damn that the limo is still moving, that youâre supposed to be on your way to the afterparty, that thereâs a whole world outside this car waiting to celebrate herânumber one overall, finally Dallasâ rookie.
The second she stood up, walked across that stage, and held up that jersey, she was already thinking about getting back to you. And when she did, when she came striding over, still grinning like a kid on Christmas, the most anticipated person in the room but still just your girl, she grabbed you like she needed proof this was real.
Her arms slid around your waist, pulling you in like she was scared someone might try to take you from her. You smiled up at her, and expressed how proud you were, of course. Her lips brushed your forehead, and she made sure you heard the six words that followed, whispering into your hair, âcouldnât have done it without you.â
This time, your mouth is on her neck before she even finishes her sentence, nipping and sucking at her skin, breathing in her Valentino like you can pick apart every ingredient in it. Too eager for manners, and way too far gone to care, you donât even hear the driverâs muttered response, not even the hum of the partition sliding up and clicking into place. No more audience. No more distractions. Just you and her. Atleast for a couple more miles.
And Paige? Back like she never left, like she needed that barrier up before she could really lose herself in you. âAinât even gonâ take ya time with it?â she teases, smiling as her hands slide down, find the swell of your ass, squeeze like sheâs been dying to do it all night. âFuck, yâso impatient,â she mutters, tilting her head back just enough to let you work, and when you bite down just right, she shivers, the pads of her fingers tightening against your shoulder for some sense of stability.
âMhm?â You grin against her throat, licking over the marks you just left. âYou wanna do something about it?â
Paige groans, large hands already pushing the fabric of your dress up over your hips. The amount of need in her movements is overwhelming, because sheâs been too good the entire night. Sheâs been sitting pretty at that table, shaking hands, doing interviews, feeling your eyes on her and knowing she couldnât do shit about it. Not yet.
And now sheâs got you all to herself.
Paige never does anything halfway, and that includes kissing you like sheâs trying to ruin you. Your tongues move all sloppy, the sounds even nastier than the kiss, and you swear you hear the music get louder, vibrating against every corner of the vehicle, the driver clearly trying to drown out the obscene sounds of Paige Bueckers losing it in the backseat. But fuck, youâre not quiet either.
You let two of her fingers push your panties to the side, gasping as they run through your slick. You grip onto her tighter as Paige hoists you fully into her lap, straddling her leg as she whispers filth into your ear.
Big hands, rough from years of handles, crossovers, midrange shots that got her here, but gentle where they need to beâslipping between your thighs, spreading you open like she already knows what sheâs gonna find.
Her fingers are slipping through the mess youâve already made for her, slow at first, just to get you going, because she knows how much you want it, because she likes making you wait. But then you whimper, and it hypnotizes her to do exactly what you wanted her to do.
Paige is fast, but sheâs precise despite being intoxicated, two fingers sinking inside you like your pussy was made for her. Your breath catches, body jerking forward, head tipping back against the seat, but she keeps you secure, pressing down on your stomach. âThatâs it,â she urges, free hand gripping your thigh, keeping you open for her. âLemme hear it, baby.â
âMfmph, there.â Your fingers wrap around her wrist while hers curl just right, pressing against that spot that has your thighs shaking, your back arching from her chest. The blonde watches you intently, her pupils blown, lips slick and kiss swollen, owning every reaction like itâs another trophy for her collection. âRight there, Pâ you drag out.
The music gets louder, and you canât even make out the lyrics, just the beat of something that never falls low. Youâre sure youâd have some remorse for the driver if you werenât about three drinks in and a little fucked out, but you canât find it, because Paige wants all of it. Every sound, every plea, every desperate, breathless, âPaige, please.â
And, oh, do you give it to her.
Paige groans at the way you say her name, like she can feel it straight between her legs, like itâs fueling her. Her fingers keep working you open, hitting every spot like she knows your body better than her own, because truthfully, she does. Sheâs mapped you out a hundred times before, but never like this, never this drunk, never with the high of being number one mixing with the high of you.
âThatâs my girl,â she praises, watching the way her fingers disappear in and out with half-lidded eyes, bottom lip caught between her teeth. âLook so pretty takinâ it, baby. Knew you would.â
You tremble, a moan breaking past your lips, and Paige just grins, like sheâs putting on another show, something like the one she just left from. But this one? This one is just for her.
âAlmost there?â
You nod frantically, nails digging at her wrist, trying to keep yourself togetherâbut fuck is it hard when sheâs all over you like this. She speeds up just a little, the wet sounds of her digits working you over and making your cheeks burn, but Paige loves it. She leans in, licks up the side of your neck, tasting the wreckage.
âPaige,â you pant, eyes fluttering.
âSay it again,â she rasps, her forehead pressed to the side of yours now, her fingers still moving, hips subtly grinding against nothing, like sheâs as desperate as you are.
âPaige,â you whimper, and you wish you could say it was voluntary. âIââ
You donât even get the chance to finish, because Paige presses down on your stomach again, just right, and your whole body reactsâclenching around her fingers, thighs twitching like she just stole every bit of your sanity. You really think she mightâve. Maybe sheâs been taking from you this entire nightâthe air in your lungs, the thoughts from your head, the control you thought you had.
âYeah, I know,â she talks you through it, lips brushing against your temple, her fingers still working, still curling inside you, playing you like a highlight reel. âGo âhead, ma. Give it to me.â
Your release crashes into you, body locking up before breaking apart, your moan swallowed by Paigeâs mouth as she kisses all of it out of you, eating up every last sound like she needs it, like she wants it dripping down her chin. Her fingers never stop moving, making sure you know she did this to you.
She pulls away with a bite of your lip, savoring the remnants of her own name on your tongue, and for a second, you think sheâll let you breathe, let you come down from the high she just sent you to.
But then she shifts against you the same way sheâd been doing all night, grinds her hips up into nothing, and you feel it.
Paige Bueckers, all six feet of her, usually so composed, the one who calls the shots in bed and most of the time out of itâis crumbling for you now, fists gripping at the leather seat like sheâs barely holding on.
Your fingers slide down slowly at the realization, popping open her belt, then her slacks, pushing them down just enough to expose the waistband of her boxers.
All you need is five minutes.
So you move. Drop to your knees right between hers, push her legs wider as you settle between them, dragging your palms up her thighs when she breathes out your name in her gravelly Minnesota accent. You let your nails creep up under her shirt, scratching lightly against her lower stomach. Too much teasing for the blonde, not enough mouth.
Paige growls, actually growls, and before you can blink, she grabs your wrist, pressing your hand right over her, rolling her hips into your palm. âAinât in the mood for allat,â she mumbles, jaw clenched, pupils dilated. âYou know what the fuck I want, baby. Stop stallinâ.â
You listen.
Partly because sheâs just had the biggest night of her life, the kind of night people dream about. Winning a National Championship just a few weeks prior to getting your name called first for the draft, becoming the face of a franchise, name solidified in history. She worked her ass off for it too, and tonight? Tonight, she made it.
So you listen. You donât stall, and you swear you hear the music get louder againâlike the driver knows exactly whatâs about to happen.
The minute you start mouthing at her, you can feel her muscles jump under your lips. Paige inhales, one hand sliding to the back of your neck, rubbing at your skin. The limo rocks slightly, the bass from the speakers rattling through your ribcage, but none of that matters. The only thing you care about is the way Paige is falling apart in your mouth.
She tries to hold out, tries to keep it together, but the way her thighs twitch when your tongue moves just right? The way she shudders when you suck?
âFuck,â she groans finally, head tipping back, body lunging upward on instinct.
And she loses it.
Because Paige has never been one to sit back and just take it.
Her hips start moving, rolling into your mouth, and you let her, let her use you, let her chase what she needs because you need it tooâthe way she sounds, the way she tastes, the way her legs start to tremble, thighs pressing against your cheeks and smudging your makeup because she canât help it.
Sheâs ruined and a little helpless, mumbling half formed curses and praises that donât even make sense. You swear you could come again just by listening. âBeen needinâ you all night. Keep doinâ that.â
She rides it out while your tongue works in circles, fingers digging into her thighs to keep her there even though she canât be still, her body shaking along with her hands that canât decide whether to pull you closer or push you away.
You flatten your tongue, holding her down a little rougher when she bucks up against your mouth. Sheâs so close, right there, her body trying to outrun her own orgasm, but you donât stop.
âPleaseâplease, babyâfeels sâgood,â she whines, her fingers tugging at your hair just the way she knows you love, hips stuttering, moans guttural. âJust like thatâdonât stop, donâtââ
She chokes on her next breath, her body breaking just like yours did, just like sheâs so deserving of.
And when she finally slumps back against the seat, spent, her chest still heaving, her thumb lazily stroking over your cheek, she grins down at you, tired, satisfied, definitely not ready for the whatever afterparty diorama is waiting for her like a coronation.
âYeah,â she breathes, licking her lips as she pulls you back up into her lap, kissing you like she could go another round, tongue sweeping into your mouth to taste herself.
âNumber one pick, baby,â she slurs. âHow that sound?â
Like trouble. Like a whole dynasty in the making. Like sheâs already on top of the world, and somehow, that ainât high enough.
You giggle, pressing her cheeks between your fingers as you peck at her lips. âFucking great. Howâs it feel?â
âFeel like I could do this all night,â she mumbles, hips rocking up into you, her need reigniting just like that. She masks it as a slight shift, but you know better. âWhat about you? Think you got another one in you?â
Like she even needs to ask.
#flipthepaige#paige bueckers#paige bueckers blog#paige bueckers x fem!reader#paige bueckers smut#wlw smut#wlw yearning#lesbian#lgbtqia
373 notes
¡
View notes
Text
THE HOTLINE (part 2.)
SEX OPERATOR TERRY RICHMOND x BLACK FEM READER (BLAIRE)
*Remember you are in charge of your own consumption. 18+ up audiences only; minors please donât interact!* THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION
*Please do not plagiarize, repost, or steal my work. This doesnât count for re-blogs!*
SUMMARY: Set in the early 2000s. Taking your best friendâs tipsy advice, you decide to call a sex hotline for help with dirty talk and your overall insecurities surrounding sex. When you call your local sex hotline, you get more than what you bargained for when Terry pics up the other line. Part 2 picks up with Terry finally making it to Blaireâs house. Porn with little to no plot ahead.
PAIRING: Terry Richmond x Blaire (reader)
WARNINGS: 18+; explicit dirty talk, explicit sex scenes; daddy kink; size kink; spit play if you squint, cursing,
WORD COUNT: 3.2K
PREVIOUSLY ON: PART 1
AUTHORâS NOTE: PART 2 IS FINALLY HERE!!!! Iâm so excited to share this chapter with you guys. I hope this is worth the wait, I know everyone wanted to know what was up next with Terry and Blaire. As always, criticism is welcomed but remember I have sensitive feelings so donât eat me up. Happy Reading love bugs! This hasn't been proofread, so I apologize for the grammatical errors
TAG LIST: @nayaesworld @keehendrixx @theereina @theereinawrites @kimuzostar @megamindsecretlair @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @blackgurlnhermoods @dxddykenn @episodes-ff @pinkkycherrishh @pinkkycherrish @urfavblackbimbo @kianaleani @shallipii @mymindisneverhere @onherereading @earthchica @skyesthebomb @gg-trini @blyffe @melasworld @mogul93 @ms-mosley-ifunastyyy @sweettea-and-honeybutter @notapradagurl7 @miyuhpapayuh @simplyzeeka @playgurlxoxo @yassbishimvintage @dbaileyblog @jimmybutlrr @versaceslutz @ruewritesoccasionally @kaylalb @noir-lullaby @jadatingz @madamedantes @charmedthoughts @daughterofapollo-7 @cardi-bre91 @thabiddie23 @mama-2001 @venusincleo @slvt4her
âI done lost my rabbit ass mindâ, Terry thought to himself as he blew through yet another stop sign. It was like something came over him, and he had to have you. Your voice, so soft and delicate, he could still hear you begging for him. He was slapping himself for forgetting to ask for your number. Terry glanced down at his dashboard, âEight more minutes babygirl,â Terry mumbled to himself before pressing his foot a little harder on the gas.
︜︜︜ ⚠︜︜ ŕ¨âĄŕ§ ︜︜︜ ⚠︜︜
You were pacing back and forth, wondering if youâd gone absolutely insane. You gave a sex hotline operator your HOME ADDRESS! Has all the âdatelineâ you watched taught you nothing?! Yet, here you were, pacing pantyless waiting for your doorbell to ring. At the moment it sounded like a good idea, a way to be spontaneous. Now out of your lust induced haze, youâre more than nervous. But, the time for nerves is no more when the tell-tale chime of your doorbell rings throughout your house.
âWho is it?â you ask, approaching your front door.
âItâs me babygirl, itâs Terry,âhe says, sounding just as nervous as you. You stand up on your tip-toes and look through the peephole. An audible gasp left your lips at the sight of the man on the other side of your door. Standing well above 6 feet and built like a tank. Thereâs no way this is Terry the man was a literal adonis.
Blaire whipped open her front door, âYou have gotta be kidding me!â Thereâs no way this was Terry! And his eyes! The blue/green/brown combination swirling into a hypnotizing hazel, you were pretty sure one look from him and youâd be on your knees in an instant.
Terry couldnât take his eyes off the pink haired angel that opened the door. Your doe eyes wide as you took him in. âDamn Blaire, youâre fucking gorgeous. Uhh, Iâm Terry.â Terryâs hand shot out in front of him. He watched as you glanced down at his hand before you burst out laughing.
âNot even an hour ago you were giving me permission to finger myself. Now, here you are trying to shake my hand, talking about âIâm Terryâ. I think weâre past formalities babe,â You laugh stepping to the side to let Terry in.
The nerves dissipated once he heard your laugh, âI just didnât want to make you uncomfortable, I know this is an unorthodox situationâ Terry says, as he steps over your threshold. He takes in your home, your maximalist taste usually jarring for some but Terry thought your place suited you.
âI appreciate that, I am comfortable around you. I mean I hope I would be based on what we just did on the phone,â you finish with a nervous laugh.
âYour place really suits you, babygirlâ Terry said, his eyes darting around your entryway trying to memorize the place.
âCan I get you anything? Water, soda, or maybe something a little stronger?â You ask, wringing your fingers. The drink you had earlier is starting to wear off. Terry takes notice of this, a small smirk forming on his face. He was relieved that you were just as nervous as he was, âSomething stronger sounds nice, to shake off this nervous energy. Lead the way, beautiful.â Terry watches, as you lead him further into your home. He thanks the lord at the bounce of your ass under the oversized t-shirt you have on.
âLight or dark?âyou ask, holding up a bottle of tequila and bourbon in each hand. You couldnât stop staring at Terry. He had to be crafted by every wet dream youâd ever had. And it manifested itself right here in your kitchen.
âWhat were you drinking?â he asks, leaning against the counter. You watched in awe as his muscles rippled in his tight black long sleeve.
âI - uh. I was drinking tequila,â you finish with a sigh, frustrated at your nervousness. Heâs just a man, the man of your literal dreams but just a man nonetheless.
Terry notices your nerves and does his best to ease them, disarming you with a megawatt smile. âTequila sounds great baby girl.â You nod and spin around, reaching above your head to grab a glass for your visitor. Terryâs eyes widen as your shirt rides up showing the cuff of your plump ass. As if heâd done it a million times before, Terry walks up behind you placing his huge hands on your hips.
âYou answered the door like this to drive me crazy didnât you?â Terry whispered in your ear. You felt your heart stop, then restart again going double the speed.
âNow, why would I want to do that?â you ask, innocently. âItâs not like I want you to bend me over this counter and fuck my brains out or anything.â
A laugh burst from Terryâs mouth, startling you slightly, âOhh, you got jokes huh?â Terry asks as he tightens his grip on your waist. He reaches above you for a glass, his large, strong hands brushing against yours as he grabs it. His scent, a mix of citrus and tobacco filling your nostrils, forcing you to breathe in deeper.
âSo do you do this with all your clients?âyou ask once youâve grabbed all the fixings to make drinks for the two of you. Terry leans against your counter, a smirk adorning his face.
âWhat? Bend them over their kitchen counters and fuck them cross-eyed? Nah, youâre the first. Canât say that Iâll make this an everyday thing either,âTerry says, eyes never leaving yours.
âOh yeah? Whyâs that?âyou ask, starting to shake your drinks.
âI have a feeling once I get a taste of you I wonât be able to let you go. No oneâs ever made me as hard as you do babygirl, âTerry says, as he takes a step toward you. Your eyes widen briefly at the realization that you were going to climb this mountain of a man. Sliding his drink to him, you smile behind yours taking a sip.
âEasy cowboy, I like foreplay,â you say, moving around your kitchen. Terry smirks, coming up behind you to undo your claw clip. His hands grip your waist pulling you flush against his front. He snakes a hand up behind your neck gripping your pink tresses in his fist and pulls. An involuntary moan leaves your mouth as your eyes meet Terryâs.
âSo you like it a little rough?âTerry asks, bringing his drink to his lips taking a long sip. And you just stared dumbly up at him, the submissive in you dying to come out.
âOpen your mouth pretty girl,âTerry commands, his voice deepening. You feel your wetness slide down the inside of your thigh as you comply with his command. Your eyes widen as you watch upside down Terry takes another sip of his drink. He leans down, lips ghosting over yours as the liquor flows from his mouth to yours.
âNow, swallow. Good girlâ Terry praises when you follow his command. Your heart is racing when Terryâs hand slides down your front, cupping your breast through your shirt. Nipples hardening almost immediately, a needy sigh leaves your lips as you sag against Terry. His large hands cup both your breasts squeezing and kneading them.
Terry leans down, his lips ghosting down the side of your neck. You tilt your head to give him access and his mouth attacks your neck. âI came in here with a plan,âTerry exhales against your skin.
âGet to know you a little bit and then fuck your brains out. You just had to open the door looking like sin. Baby, nobodyâs ever made a raggedy old T-shirt sexy. But you, you might as well be wearing lingerie for how hard you got me. Can you feel it, baby? Can you feel Daddyâs big dick digging into your back?âTerryâs monologue got you hot. Your pussyâs leaking, your breath coming out in shallow pants. Terry flicks your nipples through your shirt, causing you to flinch and moan.
âMm, harder, â you moan, encouraging Terry to play rougher with your breasts.
Terry tsks, âNow is that how you ask Daddy for something? You know what, get yo ass in the room.â He abruptly steps back leaving you hot and wanting. Turning to him with a dumbfounded look on your face youâre at a loss for words. Youâve never been this turned on so quickly. Leaning up against your kitchen island, he smirked devilishly yet again. Reaching to grab the tequila bottle he brings it up to his lips taking a shot.
âGet in that fucking room, baby now,â Terry growls. Itâs like a switch gets flipped, and youâre on autopilot. As you turn to make your way toward your bedroom, you reach down, pulling your shirt over your head. Leaving you completely naked in front of Terry. The smirk completely vanishes from his face as he takes in your naked body, curves out of his imagination, you were like his wet dreams personified. Palming his dick through his pants, he follows you blindly to your room.
︜︜︜ ⚠︜︜ ŕ¨âĄŕ§ ︜︜︜ ⚠︜︜
As soon as you enter the bedroom, Terry pushes you back onto your plush mattress, looming over you with a predatory gleam in his eye. His large hands immediately clutch your breasts, kneading the supple flesh as he leans down to capture a nipple between his lips.
âMmm, my delicious little treats,â he growls against your skin. Swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud before sucking it into his mouth. You were a panting mess, glancing down at Terry as he made out with your breast. Your thighs rubbing together covered in your slick, your clit dying for some friction. He lavishes attention on one breast while his thumb and pointer finger tease the other, pulling mewls and whines from your throat.
Terry releases your nipple with a wet pop, trailing open-mouthed kisses along your cleavage as he works his way up to your ear. âYouâre so responsive⌠so perfect I could play with these titties all night long,â he whispers huskily, nipping your earlobe.
âFuck, Terry. I need more,â you moan, your hips canting up in search of his fingers, dick, something thatâll quell this heat in your belly. You suck in a breath as his hand roam lower, gripping your thighs and pulling them apart.
âDamn baby, youâre already so wet for me. You didnât come like I told you to, right?â Terry purrs, circling your clit with a fingertip before slipping two fingers in to massage your inner walls.
âMmm fuck! Kiss me please,âyou squeal out, back arching off the bed. Terryâs eyes flash with primal hunger at your plea. Leaning down his lips meet yours in a passionate embrace. It was a mess of tongues and teeth as you wrap both arms around his neck pulling him closer. You were drenched, sheets too far gone as you grinded against Terryâs palm. The sound of your wetness, and the combined moans of you both the only sounds cutting through the silence of your home.
âWhat do you need, baby?âTerry asks, doing some kind of sorcery with his thumb on your clit.
âMoreee, I need more Terry. Please baby, how long are you going to make me wait?â you groan out, fingernails making crescent shaped divots in his shoulders. You lock eyes with the handsome man above you. The hazel is almost completely overtaken by his pupil, his cheeks and chest flushed with arousal. He crawls down your body, his lips brushing against your inner thighs as he trails a path of open-mouthed kisses towards your dripping pussy.
âLook at this pretty pussy baby, so wet and eager for my mouth,âhe murmurs, burying his face between your folds and inhaling deeply. âYou smell so fucking good pretty mama, fuck, Iâm gonna tear this pretty pussy up. Sorry in advance,â Terry sends a devious smile your way before he buries his face in your pussy.
He laps at your clit with long, slow strokes, savoring the taste of your pussy. The lewd sounds of Terry slurping your wetness permeating through your bedroom. Then, he dives deeper, plunging his tongue deep in your sloppy cunt and fucking you with it. Curling it to hit that special spot deep inside that makes you speak in tongues and see stars. âFuck, I could eat you all day baby,âTerry groans against your flesh, his moans muffled against your pussy.
âYouâre eating me so good Daddy, Iâve never had it like this before,â You moaned. Your poor silk press, sweated out, lost to the throes of passion with the sexy giant above you. You were a mess, tears of desperation slid down your cheeks as Terry lapped at your pussy like he was savoring it, savoring you. As your hips canted up, your clit made contact with his nose drawing an exaggerated whine from you.
âYeah? You like that huh? Take it baby you wanna make yourself cum? Use my face,âTerry says in between moans. You became a woman possessed, grabbing onto Terryâs ears and you began grinding against his face. Covering him in your juices, âFuck, Terry Yes!! Take that fucking pussyâ
âGod, look at you. Baby you look so pretty like this. Your pussy is weeping for me, I need you to cum Blaire. Can you do that for me baby?âTerry asks in between moans and slurps.
âCover my face in your cum, so I can fuck this pretty pussy,â he urges sucking firmly on your clit. With a final flick of his tongue, he sends you hurtling over the edge. Your orgasm rips through you with the force of a tidal wave. Senses heightened as you crested over the peak of pleasure. Your back arches off the bed, a high-pitched wail tearing from your throat as wave after wave of pleasure flows through you.
As the aftershocks subside, Terry slowly rises up, his face glistening with your essence. He crawls up your body, lips meeting yours in a lust drunk, sloppy kiss. Even though you just came so hard, the taste of yourself on Terryâs lips was enough to get you ready for round two.
âFuck me baby, pleaseâ, you beg, your hands caressing Terry all over his muscular frame, grabbing his ass and pulling him closer to you. Terry pulls back his eyes, taking in your dick drunk state. Youâre covered in a slight sheen of sweat, doe eyes dazed and unfocused, chest heaving with pants.
âYouâre so fucking beautiful Blaire,âTerry mumbles absently, âSo wet and ready fâme.â Without wasting another moment, Terry sheathes himself inside you, groaning at the sensation of being buried inside you.
âFuck baby, you feel so good,âTerry moans. You preen at the sounds of this man moaning and whimpering. Terry grips your hips tightly and starts to thrust, each thrust driving him deeper and deeper into your pussy, filling you completely.
âHow does my pussy feel Terry? Tell me,âyou ask through his mind numbing thrusts.
Terryâs breathing grows ragged as he pounds into you, lost in the incredible feeling of your tight wet pussy enveloping his dick. âBaby, itâs like pure sunshine. Wrapping around me like wet velvet, and gripping me so tight, fuck. You were fucking made for me Blaire, thereâs no way Iâm letting you go after this.â He leans over you, his chest pressing against yours as he continues to drive into you with increasing urgency.
Terryâs hand slides up to wrap around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp and arch beneath him, âThatâs it, take it all, baby.â His grips on your throat tightens slightly, his fingers flexing against your skin as he grinds deeply into your pussy.
You donât even know your first name. Terry fucking every last braincell out of your mind. Nothing leaving your lips but sobs, whimpers, and moans. He pistons into you even harder, the sounds of skin meeting skin echoing throughout your room. âIâm not gonna last much longer babygirl. Let me fill this pussy up, mark you as mine. No one else gets to taste this sweet pussy but me from here on out. Understood?â
Terryâs words unleash another mind searing orgasm, your eyes roll into the back of your head as your pussy pulses around Terryâs length. Your world erupts in color and flashes of light as you float outside your body. A broken moan leaves his lips, and with one final brutal thrust Terry buries himself to the hilt to release ropes of his sticky warm cum inside you. âMine,â he groans into your neck, his voice raw with possessiveness as he spills his load into your willing body.
Terry collapses on top of you, being sure not to crush you with his full weight. After a moment, he rolls off and pulls you into his arms, cradling you against his chest. âYou did great, baby,â he praises, stroking your hair soothingly. He presses a tender kiss to your forehead, his expression softening, âI wasnât too rough was I?â
You shake your head, a dazed smile on your lips, âYou were perfect, Daddy. Next time donât drive somewhere else, I was dying waiting for you.â
Terry chuckled, pulling you impossibly closer,âGot it, you want me to run you a bath?â
âPlease?â you asked, body too spent to get up and do it yourself.
Terry gently pulls out and places a quick kiss on your lips before raising up in all his naked glory. You feel yourself start to drift off as you stare at his ass, a small smirk on your face at another role play success between you and your boyfriend. Before long, the sound of running water lulls you into a brief slumber.
THE END.
OKAAAAAAYYYY! So tell me what yâall think in the comments! I love chatting with you guys! Thank you so so much for consuming my work.
UNTIL NEXT TIME.
TEE <3
#writingsbytee#tee writes#rebel ridge fanfiction#terry richmond fanfiction#terry richmond#terry richmond smut#terry richmond x reader#terry richmond x black reader#black fem reader#black fem writer#terry richmond x black oc#terry richmond x black! fem plus size reader#terry richmond fic#terry richmond x fem reader#terry richmond x plus size reader
148 notes
¡
View notes
Text
A fractured line II


summary: All we did was kiss, on my grave I swear.
pairing: Natalie Scatorccio x fem!reader
warnings: smut in the beginning, mentions of SA (Travis and doomcoming), shrooms, knives, fighting, mentions of hetero sex (yes thats a warning), angsttttttt, our girl reader is dealing with situationship demons, ambiguous ending
a/n: fucking finally!! im so sorry if this disappoints any of you, i literally got the idea when i listened to a song. i do like this one better but unfortunately i needed some angst on this page its literally all porn, also not proofread we die like jackie
word count: 5k
taglist: @theprismyyy @priyajoyy @bbbexee
part 1
Natalieâs lips were cold against yours, but it didnât stop you from capturing them feverishly. And as cliche as it sounds, you really havenât felt this way before. You could tell yourself it was the shrooms, but that simply wasnât the case.
She was the first to pull away. It mightâve felt like torture but you did need to breathe.
She also had no right looking this beautiful. To look at you, while being this beautiful.
âIâm so sorry, I didnât mean to-â You started, but were soon cut off by her own lips this time.
She kissed you like you were all sheâs been looking for her entire life, cupping your face and straddling you on the cold ground. Your fingers tangled in your hair as you let her lips explore you.
They traveled down to your jaw, your neck and collarbone which was showing right above the neckline of your dress.
It all felt like you were in slow motion, maybe she felt it too. Coming back up to your lips, she pressed a searing kiss against them.
âI want you so bad.â Natalie whispered, sending a wave of heat between your thighs.
âPlease let me have you.â She said with a burgeoning excitement. How could you ever say no to that? To her?
The small nod you gave was more than enough for her to continue, slowly dragging the straps of your dress down. Her slender fingers burned against your skin as they mapped it out, relishing the warm feeling of you. Her lips also continued their path in sync with her hands, growing needier by the minute.
You were hyper aware of it all - her body pressed against yours, it was as if your entire being mingled with hers.
Moving her hips down just slightly, she straddled just one of your thighs insted, tailing a hand up your leg until she reached the already ridden up hem.
âCan I?â Natalie asked almost shyly, one tone youâd yet to hear from her.
âPlease.â You coaxed out, her hand pushing your panties to the side before you could even finish.
Once her skin made contact with your bare core you were done for. Resting her forehead against yours, letting her plump lips brush against your cheek in a soft reassurance before nudging your hole with her middle finger.
Once she does push it inside you, she acts as if she can feel it too. Her hips jerked against your body, digit moving simultaneously. Her movements were a bit unsure, but she soon found a spot that made you writhe in pleasure. Adding another finger, she circled your clit too, sending shockwaves down your spine.
Youâd never been touched this way before. Never felt like someone wanted to touch you simply to make you feel good, and not get something in return. In this moment, it was as if her sole purpose was to please you, and rest assured herself, grinding down on the ridge of your thigh.
Not trusting your hands anymore, you propped yourself up on one elbow, the other arm sneaking around Natalieâs neck. She embraced it right away, placing a soft hand where your shoulders meet, as if grounding you.
âDoes that feel good?â She whispered against your lips, nudging your nose with her own.
âFeels amazing, Nat.â You answered, pure desire laced in your tone. Seems to urge her on too, as her movements against you get noticably frenzied, chasing her climax along with you. Brushing your lips against hers, the two of you came soon enough, swallowing each otherâs moans and whimpers. It was in this moment that you felt truly content, something you havenât felt in a long time.
Plopping back down onto the dirt, Nat collapsed atop of you, nuzzling her head into your chest.
âThat was - amazing. Youâre really amazing.â The girl slurred out.
âYouâre really shitfaced!â You retorted with a laugh, the breeze making your damp thighs feel slightly cold
âNo but you are! Youâve got those eyes and - and the hair and boobs.â She listed, holding up her fingers and counting on them.
The whole exchange made you throw a cackling fit, your arms tightening around her. This is what people meant when they called sex intimate, then. The intimacy may not only exist in the act itself, though it certainly was there - but also before and after. In fact, the buildup and post orgasm bliss may have actually been better.
Natalie felt that way too. She had her fair share of fucking, but never making love. It was different, even though she always argued it wouldnât be, and you both felt it.
Right now, she just let herself listen to your heartbeat, no pressure, no worries or chaos, just for tonightâ
âHelp!â
You two heard in the distance. Immediately jolting upwards, you exchanged a skeptical glance. But your moms didnât raise pussies.
Nat and you soon got up, running towards the sound that overtime became more pronounced.
Approaching it more, you could finally identify Jackieâs voice screaming, coming from the cabin.
âThat good, huh?â You joked as the two of you bolted inside.
Grasping the handle, Natalie unlocked the door that the girl was trapped behind.
There she was, staring at you with wide, guilty eyes. Normally, you wouldâve blinded her for messing with whatâs yours. But could you even do that? Especially when you did the exact same thing? Shitfaced philosophy was really working as Jackie gawked between Nat and you, with an admittedly shameful look. Of course you werenât sure, but from what you heard you presumed this was, in fact, her first time.
But apparently she was in some kind of hurry. it was funny what these mere mushrooms could do. The interaction was quite ephemeral, yet to you it seemed as the longest awkward moment youâd had to face, ever.
âAre you okay?â Nat asked, tuning to look at you
âIâm free! Natalie Iâm a free being! And so is JackieâŚâ You started, both of you presuming her hurried state was a symptom of the high.
âYes you are honey.â Nat said, stifling a laugh.
âDude Iâm a whole person!
âYeah, you are a whole.â She replied with a stupid lovesick smile on her face
âIâm a hole!â You giggled along with her about your wrong interpretation of her words.
âWe should see where she was headed, yeah?â Nat said, and you reluctantly did follow
Catching up to the aforementioned girl was quite easy, seeing as Natalie and you were fast, and on a nice amount of the forest-provided ecstasy. With asking Jackie questions came cryptic answers, however your light and playful demeanor lessened more and more with her serious one.
It went dead as soon as you heard sketchy sounds in the distance. They became as obvious as ever as you approached them, and getting to a clearing you saw something you thought you were tripping abo- oh, itâs real!
Your very ex was tied to some kind of fucking altar? With Lottie right next to him? And Shaunaâs knife to his throat?
God help your delirium, Jackie and Natalie rushed over and helped him right away. You felt like a coward, only being able to watch in horror and shock. But then again, it wasnât everyday that you see a boy strapped down to- whatever that is and covered in numerous lipstick marks, that were not in fact Jackieâs.
She did take the liberty of taking him back, Nat being the one to handle you. She took your clammy hand onto hers and lead you back to the lake for some peace and quiet, which you immensely needed.
"So that was something, huh?" Nat broke the silence, sitting beside you.
"If that's what you wanna call it." You deadpanned, your high wearing off.
"You did good. Back there. You did your best." Natalie spoke lowly, trying to make you feel better. She always did that, not just to you, to everyone. She wasn't as cheerful about it as say Jackie, but she did her best, and it almost always hit the spot. Not quite this time though.
"There was so much more I could've done." You whispered back, not turning your head to look at her. Still, you could feel her own eyes burning holes to the side of your face.
"Hey, don't do that! You were terrified, dude."
"And you weren't?" You questioned, a bit agitated. Not at her, at yourself.
The question was followed by a long silence, both of you gazing towards the woods and the water. The majestic moonlight illuminated the place, making the lake's contents sparkle before you.
Maybe, just maybe, if you were on a field trip with your friends from back home, sneaking in booze and huddling up to him her on the drive home, youâd think this place was beautiful.
"Everyone was so scared of you," She scoffed "I never was. I mean you were a girl, just like the rest of us. Trying to get through all that shit - high school, family, whatever...I get that." Nat said, making you smile a little
"That night, when Travis broke up with me, you said that were were two sides of the same coin. I wasn't sure what you meant until tonight." You replied
Yeah, now you knew exactly what she meant. Both of you were just young, putting out a tough exterior - one that everyone recognized you by - simply to protect yourselves. Maybe the reason you avoided Natalie wasn't because of how different you are, but how similar she actually was to you. Maybe you didn't wanna accept that.
"I don't regret what happened tonight, by the way." She said, sounding almost afraid to voice it.
"Me either." You whispered, finally locking your eyes onto hers.
It was as if she didn't have the physical strength to hold back, leaning in to kiss you seconds after you looked at her. Moving a bit closer, her touch got increasingly more hungry.
Oh well, a second round can't hurt.
------------------------------------------------
The early morning light distributed through the forest, slowly awaking you from your slumber. Raising your head, you couldn't ignore the dull ache in your neck - likely from sleeping on the ground. A few feet away from you, you could see your reflection in the shore of the infamous lake. Your hair was quite messy as you tried to shake all of the sand out of it - or at least most. The dress you wore was draped lazily over your hip, your almost bare body covered in dirt.
That's when it hit you, everything that happened last night. And I mean, everything, in detail.
"Youâre awake." A soft, familiar voice that belonged to Natalie called out
"Unfortunately." You muttered, rubbing your face with your hands. Sure, you did have a thing for the dramatics, but this time you kind of meant it.
Natalie snorted before responding, "I got you some clothes." She said, and only then you noticed she was already changed.
"I'll rinse off first." You answered, standing up and leveling with her before walking over to the water.
You took careful steps, dipping your toes inside though it was quite frigid. Nat moved over closer to you, stripping bare of her pants.
"Just jump in." She said teasingly as you gave her a faux eyeroll. Though to her surprise, you did just dive right in, keeping your head under for a few seconds until some dirt was out of your ear.
The blonde sat at the shore, her legs intertwining with the water as she drew up her sleeves and leaned back on her hands. Swiftly swimming over you laid your wet head of hair on top of her thigh, looking up at her through your eyelashes.
"That was a shit show." She spoke up, breaking the silence
"Not all of it!" You called out, playfully smacking her arm with the back of your hand, earning a soft giggle from her.
"No, not all of it. I did like some parts." She said with a smirk
You just snorted, gazing up at her.
"You know, when all this is over and we get back home, I'm taking you out on a proper cheesy date." Nat stated, leaving zero room for argument.
"I'd love that." You replied, nuzzling your face into her.
"You know that really cliche moment in the movies when the lead finally realizes they're into someone and wants to - take care of them, or whatever?" The girl spoke up above you
"Yeah?"
"I feel like this might be it for me." She said, followed by a short silence
"I like how you make me feel so much lighter. Like I'm carrying a bunch of weight on my shoulders and you just take it away." You said quietly.
She didn't need to respond for you to know how much those words meant to her, or how she's felt it with you herself.
All the exhaustion was finally getting to you, as well as the hangover. You groaned in pain softly, and she took the hint, running the pads of her fingers through your hair.
"Maybe you should check in with him." She said. God why did she have to be so kind and well meaning? This was a conversation you were not looking forward to in the slightest, and it made you groan quite a bit louder.
"What if we just stayed here all day? We can be lazy and make out!" You proposed, climbing back up to straddle her thighs, your arms encircling her neck, wetting the fabric of her shirt.
"Yeah, for a little. But at some point we need to go back, there's so much shit to do." Nat responded, giving you a tender look.
"Dude why? They were the ones that went fucking insane!"
"Maybe so, but still. They'll be on our asses if we don't." She spoke with a bit of annoyance.
Surely though, you could not forget the makeout session that was meant to take place. Leaning in, you pressed your cold lips onto hers, making her hand fly and ball in your hair, pulling you in closer. It sure would be an eventful morning.
Finally being done with your...seemingly favorite stress relief method, you both did get dry and dressed, dreading what was to come. With a deep breath, Nat's warm hand found yours, taking it as she led you back to camp.
At this moment, you were hyperaware of all your surroundings. Her skin on yours, as your own clung to your clothes, your damp locks wetting the area of your neck. The quiet hum of the wind traveling through the dainty leaves, making the inevitable silence that much more bareable.
âItâs gonna be fine. Theyâre the ones that should feel shitty.â She just always knew exactly what to say.
You gave her a reassuring smile - that was mostly meant for yourself, and turned the corner, walking up to the cabin.
See, you expected many things. You expected a dirty look, maybe a concerned or a guilty one. Maybe you expected to be teased for the very obvious post-hookup flush in your face. You expected Nat to be made fun of for all the marks coating her neck. What you didnât expect was to see the entire group in both awe and terror, gathered all together.
All together, around the one and only Lottie, pulling a knife out of a bearâs neck. So in the grand scheme of things, no one even noticed you walk up.
Natalie instinctivly pulled you closer, remembering your fairly negative feelings towards certain things, such as guts and gore.
âOh - now you come back? Weâve been looking for you all morning!â Taissa called out to you two once she spotted you.
âIs that seriously whatâs on your mind right now?â You asked in slight disbelief.
âYes! We had no fucking idea where the gun was!â An agitated Mari yelled.
âItâs by the door.â Natalie said with a bit of a mocking tone, making you snort once you saw the other girlâs dumbfounded expression.
âOkay, who cares? The bear is dead, no oneâs hurt and we have food!â Akilah stated.
âAbsolutley. No point in talking about it now.â Coach said in what you presumed to be a bored tone. Not like you could blame him.
âJust drag it to the back, weâll cut it up later.â Shauna muttered as a couple girls took the liberty to do so.
âIâll go take a walk, I need to clear my head.â You told Nat, giving her hand a soft squeeze
âTake your time. Iâll be around.â She responded, scanning the place a little before giving the corner of your mouth a bit of a sarcastic, fast kiss, which earned her a small eyeroll.
Walking out to the back, barely twenty feet away, you ran into the very person responsible for your inner turmoil this sunny morning. Before turning and running away, Natalieâs voice rang in your head. And for fucks sake, you wanted her to think highly of you, even for something benign as this.
âTravis? You okay?â You incquired with a gentle approach. Or at least, as gentle as possible.
âIâm fine.â He responded hastly, though his current demeanor said otherwise.
âNeed help with that?â You tried yet again, pointing to the cold, wet rag he rubbed against the bruised skin of his neck.
âNo.â
Despite his refusal, with a sigh you slowly reached for it anyhow. The boy had a skeptical look on his face before letting go and fall into your own hand.
In a soft motion you soothed the sensitive area, making him slightly wince.
âSoâŚJackie?â You asked tenatatively
âExcuse me? Natalie?!â He shot back, raising his eyebrows up to his forehead.
Your own followed suit as you raised your eyes, looking into his. As soon as they locked on them the both of you broke into a small laughing fit as you still worked on him.
âGuess we finally got laid huh?â He spoke again.
âHey! That was not my fault, you were the one who couldnât get it up.â You retorted, though your words had no real heat to them.
âI wasâŚnervous.â Travis replied, a faint red hue on his cheeks.
âYou couldnât tell me that before I shoved your flacid dick in my mouth?â You questioned in a mock flat tone, finally letting the rag drop back to the makeshift table.
The boy chuckled again, brushing his hair back with his fingers.
âIâll uh- Iâll go look for Javi.â He declared, rubbing his eyes quite agressively.
âWhat? Heâs not here?â You proclaimed, crossing your arms over your chest as your brows knitted together.
âNo he- I guess he ran away last night?â Travis said, and you could sense his anguish though he tried to hide it.
âShould I come with you or-â
âItâs fine. I need to clear my head anyway. It was nice talking to you though.â He conveyed with a tight-lipped smile before rushing away, leaving you a bit dumbfounded.
And honestly yes, it was nice talking to him. You could only go so long before going insane with all the awkward tension, neither of you needed that out there. Who knows, he might actually be your friend while you battled with your raging bicuriousity.
It was a nice day, though a colder one. Walking through the quiet woods, many things were on your mind. First and foremost, you thought all about how tough it'll be once winter gets here, and it was right around the corner.
Then you realized just how fucking thirsty you are, seeing as the last thing you drank was the so called berry wine the night before. Your finally dry hair moved in rhythm with the wind that unapologetically ruffled it as it went, making you a tad dizzy too. The sleep depravation didn't help either - if it was a possibility you'd do multiple questionable things for a Tylenol and some coffee, or at least tea that doesn't taste like piss.
"What are you doing out here?" A skeptical, slightly frightened Jackie called out, you hadn't even noticed her.
âI donât know? Walking aroundâŚyou?â You inquired, taking a seat next to her, letting your back rest against one of the trees.
âSame, I guess. Look, about last night-â She started before you cut her off.
âNo, itâs fine, reallyâŚItâs not like we were still together or anything. â You replied, waving a hand in dismissal.
âReally?â The girl asked in obvious disbelief.
âReally. I mean weâve got enough shit to worry about, relationship drama isnât it.â You said in a flat tone, eyes scanning her face.
âYeah, fairâŚbut I donât think you really need to worry about a relationship anyway.â Jackie said in a teasing done dripping with implication.
âWhat?â
âI just meant with Nat and everything-â She sputtered, until realizing you were less then amused.
âIs there a problem with that?â You barked, the question coming out rougher then you intended.
âNo! No, Iâm just saying, sheâs pretty much smitten. And it figures you wouldnât be mad at me if you were this good with her.â Jackie said matter-of-factly, making a shiver run down your spine.
âWell why wouldnât we be good?â You asked, mockingly accentuating the word.
âI just thought because- yâknow, her and Travis?â She asked as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
âWha- what about Travis and her?â You questioned, sitting up straighter
âOh, you didnât know?â
No, no you didnât fucking know.
âThey hooked up or something. Uh- Van saw them, when they were supposed to be out hunting. I thought she told you thatâ Jackie quivered, trying to gauge your reaction.
âRightâŚwhenâd this happen?â You asked breathlessly. Truly, it felt like there was no air left in the world.
âA couple days ago.â She replied, unsure.
Hearing that made made your eyes burn with unshed tears and your throat close up. You never felt quite this way before, and you absolutley despised it. Your mind ran with all the possible images and scenarios involuntarily, making your head spin. At this point you were spiraling, entirely in war with yourself. How could you ever let her get this close? Better yet, how the fuck did the only person you were actually into betray you this way?
Here she was, making you matching head pieces and dancing with you oh so intimately at that party - and what? To get in your pants? To use you, just like sheâd been used. Do hurt people hurt people?
âAre you okay?â Jackie asked, careful of her tone and expression.
âIâm fine. Whatever, sheâd have sex with anyone who gave her the attention her father didnâtâ You hissed, leaving Jackie speechles with her jaw hitting the floor.
And god, as much as she hurt you, you felt rueful as soon as the words left your mouth. Usually, youâd never regret saying something like that about a person who dared cross you, but she was different. Just so fucking different, it scared you to no end. She had an inexplainable effect on you.
âI need to go.â You said, hurrying off before the girl could respond.
Your feet carried you as your mind ran. Without realizing it, youâd walked back to the cabin, not even bothering to stop the hot tears from spilling over your eyes. Only when you reached the back of the place, where you left Travis a little over an hour ago, you realized where you were.
The thing is though, you most definitely didnât feel like socializing with anyone at this point, so you attempted to make your way back towards the deeper woods - or even the ever famous lake.
However unfortunately for you, luck wasnât on your side. Just as you turned around to walk back, you faced a familiar person, and the very cause of these complicated emotions.
âY/N, hey, I was looking for you-â Natalie approached, walking closer.
âAre you crying?â She asked, already moving to embrace you softly, a slight look of hurt and confusion gracing her face when you pushed her away.
You didnât need trust yourself to speak as you wiped your eyes, taking a deep breath to ground yourself.
Only then, she realized what this was about.
âY/Nâ She whispered, sounding somewhat desperate
âHow could you do that?â You shot back as the water dried on your face.
âWe only kissed I-â
âYou knew about everything that went down!â You yelled out, not paying much mind to her words
âWe only kissed.â She tried again, this time sounding more assertive. Still as desperate.
âWhat kind of a fucking excuse is that?!â
âI- please, you have to listen to me, it was a dumb mistake!â Natalie continued, her own eyes watering up
âNatalie I was miserable when we broke up, you saw it! Gosh, you- youâre fucking unbelievable. I just - I thought we were friends! And anyway, Iâd never expect you to do that!â You drawled out, your voice shaky.
âYou canât deny that you and I are so much more then friends.â Nat sobbed, locking your teary eyes with her own.
âThatâs what I thought last night too.â You mumbled.
âNo, I promise - itâs still there! I still feel it. Christ, I love you! I fell in love with you in a matter of weeks! Do you even realize the effect that you have on me?! That you always had on me?â She bawled, at this point yelling for the whole world to hear. It didnât matter. All that mattered was your forgiveness.
âOh God, Natalie you donât love me, you donât even know me!â You hissed.
âWhat the fuck? Iâve known you for years! Look, I know that you hate when guys tell you what to wear, I know that the coffee you drink is practically milk and you throw half of it away before every practice, I know you like having red nails. But the darker ones, you once said you felt cheap if they were neon or whatever. I also know what kind of music you listen to because you annoyingly always insisted to play it. And I can bet you know little things like that about me too but the thing is, Iâve grown to fucking love every single one of them this past month. And I am so fucking sorry about what I did.â Natalie explained. She sounded truly miserable, letting her own tears fall freely.
And you were stunned to hear it. At this point, there was so much emotion plastered across her face, you even debated believing her. But the truth is, you werenât even sure you believed they didnât hook up, so how could you believe anything else she said? Then again - why would she try so hard to convince you otherwise if she didnât at least care?
Still, thinking about it made your insides churn and all you knew is that you couldnât be around her. Your pride may have had a large impact on all of it too. Softly shaking your head, you walked away, not sparing her another glance. If you did, youâd stay back, and you couldnât afford that right now.
All the betrayal, anger, sadness and frustration mixed inside your head into a dangerous cocktail. Retrieving the cheap, half drunken whiskey bottle you disappeared into the woods, settling down on the clearing that brought back many memories from the prior night.
You chugged it down like your life depended on it, though it did little to to ease your anguish. And anyway, the burn in your throat was a momentary distraction.
In the grand scheme of things, this seemed awfully unimportant. So what if you feel like you've known this girl in your last life? So what if she was the only person to properly watch out for you? So what if all your walls crumbled down as soon as she sent something as little as a soft smile your way? So what if you fell in fucking love in five weeks, right? It's not like you could lose something you never actually had. Right now, she's both the closest and the farthest she'd ever been from you. To you. This girl managed to reinvent you, only to kick you back down this way.
You cursed the day you let yourself be yourself in front of her, The day she was born a little, too. There were simply so many things you wanted to do and say, yet you found yourself unable to move a muscle. At this point, you weren't even sure whether you were being dramatic or not. You just knew you wanted this feeling to end
Little did you know, back at the cabin Natalie was crashing out. She was going around, poking and asking who the fuck had the nerve do say this to you. Deep down, she knew she was in the wrong - and that there was no taking back what happened. She knew that the trust you reluctantly put in her was long gone, and it was as if she grieved it.
Yet to this day, the only thing Nat wanted was to feel closer to you. To understand and and be there for you. She was so convinced that there wasn't a universe in which you would want her the same way she wanted you, and all the disdain got in and over her head, making her do something she knew she'd regret.
Out of spite, she kissed him. Out of spite, she hurt you. Out of spite, she ruined it. Because that it what she does, under it all, there is a divine, kind person, sadly covered up by a thick layer acting as rough protection.
The only thing she was now sure of was how much she would try to make it up to you. Natalie would do anything if it granted her the feeling of her lips pressing yours, just once more.
#yellowjackets#yellowjackets thoughts đ#natalie scatorccio#yellowjackets showtime#yj season 3#yellowjackets x reader#natalie scatorccio x reader#nat scatorccio#natalie scatorccio thoughts đ#natalie scatorccio x you#natalie scatorccio smut#natalie yellowjackets#nat scatorccio x you#nat scatorccio x reader#nat scatorccio smut
157 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Teary Eyes
Summaryâ Mila watched the race live and Oscar was staying strong for her until he couldnât
Warningsâ Australian Grand Prix 2025
A/Nâ IM SO SO SORRY



The home Grand Prix? It was not grand at all. Mila was having fun with her aunts in the paddock. Dancing to music, seeing fans, and overall fun while the cars raced in wet conditions. All she knew was that her daddy was in second and he was doing good.
Suddenly the vibes in the garage shifted from winning a 1-2 anticipation to panic and anxiety. When Hattie gasped and panicked Mila panicked, looking around for why everyone was so reactive.
Her little eyes glazed over when she saw the orange line with Pia next to it, dropping significantly down the list. âNo, daddy, no!!â She squealed, adding to the panic of everyone else. She didnât understand much, but when a colored line dropped it usually meant they were out.
Hattie tried distracting Oscars little girl while she also tried making sure it wasnât a crash. When he was beached on grass for skimming gravel and wet track they watched intently. Mila was holding back tears. She knew how much the race meant to him.
âIs he okay?â She asked her aunt. âLook aunt Hattie look!â She said loudly, noticing Oscar join back on track. Hattie rubbed Milaâs tummy comfortingly, she knew Oscar wouldnât be happy.
What was once a race for first, has now turned to a race for points at all. Mila was watching now, annoyed if someone interrupted her. A mechanic standing in the way would get a cute âmove!â For blocking the screen of her view.
When all was said and done, he ended up P9. âLaLa won the race Mila!â Hattie tried to put on a happy face. âDaddy got 9th.â She said returning a stray strand of hair behind Milaâs ear. Mila watched the tv still, annoyed at her aunt for interrupting.
Oscar was on the screen, he did not look happy but sad and distraught. Mila could sense his feelings through the screen. Her lip quivered as she looked to her aunt. If Hattie knew anything right now, it was that Oscar should not have to deal with his little girl upset about his result.
âHey, daddy made it through the race.â She smiled at her niece. âLook at uncle LaLa, he gets a big trophy for the team.â Hattie said pointing at the podium. The words affected Milaâs attitude, because she was right. Oscar had finished the race, and Lando was getting a trophy for the team.
Mila anticipated for Oscar to come through the garage and it seems he was anticipating seeing her too. As soon as he could get free of a few talks and medias, he was sprinting to the garage. He looked around and spotted her. Still by Hattie like he asked her to be.
He picked her up and squeezed her tightly. She reciprocated the hug, her little arms squeezing his neck with promise. Hattie gave her brother a weak smile. Oscar refused to let go of Mila for the duration of the day.
âAre you ready to leave darling?â He asked her when she had rested her head in the crook of his neck. His trainer was going over something, the last thing he had for the day. âWhen Mr. Kim is done we can go okay?â
She looked at him in the eyes and nodded. Kim finished whatever it was he was going over and they packed up to leave. Mila sat patiently on the bench in his driver room as he gathered his things. âDaddy, I think you did good in the race.â Mila said quietly. She knew he wasnât feeling the best about the race, thatâs all he had talked about after.
Oscar looked over to her and saw her hesitant eyes, he had been talking down on himself the entire time he held her. He smiled at her, holding in his tears. He crouched in front of her and kissed her forehead. âThank you angel.â He said quietly.
They drove to his childhood family home and she fell asleep on the way. He unbuckled her car seat and carefully transported her inside and to his bed. He returned to the main room and cried in his mums arms.
âI know, itâs okay baby.â Nicole cooed. She hugged her son and comforted him. âThereâs always another one, itâs okay.â She held his face that was red and wiped his tears. His sisters decided not to say anything but stay their distance. They knew how excited he was to have a chance at winning.
His sisters suddenly joined the conversation with distracting coos to someone much shorter. Oscar quickly wiped his face from the tears and leaned on the counter facing away. The little feet padded over and Oscar couldnât help letting another tear slip out.
âDaddy I canât sleep.â Mila whined, not knowing she interrupted something. Oscar took a deep sigh before looking at her and crouching down. âWhatâs wrong daddy?â She whispered now concerned.
âNothing angel, letâs go back to bed.â His voice gravelly and nasally from crying. He takes her hand and walks her back to his old room. He tucks her in and kisses her head.
âCuddles daddy.â She said in the dark of the room. He never says no to her, a weakness heâs adapted to. Even in his vulnerable state. He kicks his shoes off and gets under the covers next to her, pulling her closer to him as she turns over and cuddles into his chest. He rubs her back as she drifts off again.
again I apologize, I will be crying myself to sleep after this thank you.
Taglist: @il0vereadingstuff
#f1#formula 1#formula one#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 fluff#dad oscar piastri#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri f1#oscar piastri fic#oscar piastri#australian gp 2025#op81 imagine#op81 fluff#op81 fic#op81#81pastrys dad!fic
134 notes
¡
View notes
Note
hiiii! i love your writing so much and recently i've been craving for an angsty powder/jinx (i'm not sure if you write for her) x reader one-sided story (by reader's side) and idk, if you want to add a happy ending, you can do what you like better! could you, please?đŠđđđťâ¨
Bound To You



jinx x reader
mentions : established relationship, break-up, angst, romance, between s1 & s2
summary : jinx thinks it's best to break-up after blowing up the council.

You and Jinx had been together for three years, bonded by ink, chaos, and something deeper neither of you ever had to put into words. You were the same age, but life had shaped you differentlyâwhile she ran with the wild and reckless, you carved out a space for yourself as a self-made tattoo artist in the depths of Zaun. Your setup was far from professional, your tools secondhand, your ink not always the best quality, but people came to you for the art, for the price, for the stories.
Jinx was one of them. Sheâd walked into your shop one day, all swagger and mischief, asking for a set of cloud tattoos. The process took time, so she kept coming back, letting you etch those wisps of sky into her skin while conversation filled the spaces between the buzzing of your needle. It started as casual banter, then inside jokes, then something else entirelyâsomething that made her linger even after the ink had dried.
When Jinx finally asked you out, she did it in the most Jinx way possible: by spray-painting a bunch of unconscious goons into the words âWill you be my girlfriend?â right in the middle of your apartment. She was beaming, so damn proud of her masterpiece. You? Not so much. But looking at herâgrinning, slightly unhinged, waiting for your answerâyou couldnât say no.
Your apartment became her safe haven. Whenever the weight of the world crushed down on herâwhen grief, anger, or memories of Vi clawed at her mindâsheâd find her way to you. Sheâd lay her head on your lap, spilling her thoughts in tangled sentences while your fingers traced absentminded patterns on her arm. She missed Vi more than she ever admitted outright, but you saw it in her eyes, heard it in the way her voice would break. And you? You listened. You gave her words of wisdom, reassurances she sometimes took and sometimes didnât.
Jinx wasnât overly affectionateânot in the conventional way. Kisses were rare, and sex wasnât frequent, but when she did show love, it was always a surprise. Sometimes, in the middle of a conversation, sheâd press a quick, unexpected kiss to your lips and laugh at your reaction. Other times, she'd show up at your apartment in the dead of night, wordlessly shutting the door before turning you inside out in the way only she could.
You loved everything about her. Her intelligence, her beauty, her chaotic humor. Jinx was everything you could ever want. And for three years, she was yours.

It all started when the whispers beganâthe rumors that Vi had returned to Zaun. At first, it was just street talk, the kind of gossip that spread like wildfire in the undercity, but then she was at your doorstep. Vi, standing there in the flesh, with a blue-haired enforcer at her side, eyes sharp and questioning.
They asked about Silco. About Jinx.
"I donât know," you said, voice firm as you stared at them. And it was the truthâyou really didnât. Jinx had vanished the moment word got out that her sister was back. You hadnât seen her, hadnât heard from her. The absence gnawed at you, but you werenât about to hand over even the scraps of information you did have. So, before Vi could press further, you slammed the door in their faces and locked it.
Days turned to weeks.
You missed herâher weirdness, her sassy comebacks, the way sheâd throw her arms around you when she was feeling playful or press a chaste kiss to your forehead when she thought you werenât paying attention. But she was nowhere to be found. And then, one day, word spread that Jinx had done the unthinkableâshe had blown up the council.
The undercity was electric with her name. People were rallying, some mourning, others idolizing. A new era was being painted in shades of chaos, and Jinx was at the center of it. People even started dyeing their hair blue in her honor, turning her into something more than just a personâshe was a symbol now. And since everyone knew you were her girlfriend, your business boomed. People wanted ink that would mark them as Jinxâs followers, as if carrying a piece of her on their skin would make them untouchable. It was overwhelming, exhausting, but it kept your mind from caving in on itself.
Until that night.
You came home after another long day, locking the door behind you before toeing off your shoes. Your body ached, your mind was heavy, and all you wanted was to collapse onto your bed. But as you stepped into your room, you froze. A hooded figure stood in the shadows, unmoving.
A gasp escaped your lips as you fumbled for the light switch. The moment the room flooded with dim light, your heart leapt into your throat.
Blue braids peeked out from under the hood.
"Jinx?" you called out, voice barely above a whisper.
Slowly, she turned to face you. It was her. But she looked differentâdrained, haunted, as if she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.
Without hesitation, you stepped forward, wrapping your arms around her, holding her tight. She smelled like oil, gunpowder, and the faint remnants of whatever perfume she used to wear.
"Are you okay? Where have you been? I missed you so much," you murmured against her.
But she didnât hug you back.
You felt the stillness in her, the way her arms stayed at her sides. Slowly, you pulled away, looking into those tired, stormy eyes.
"Whatâs wrong?" you asked, your stomach twisting with unease.
She hesitated, her gaze flickering down for a brief moment before she spoke.
"I donât think we can be together anymore," she said, voice hollow, barely a whisper.
Your heart plummeted.
"What?"
Your breath hitched in your throat, the weight of her words slamming into your chest like a freight train.
"What do you mean?" you asked, your voice unsteady, barely more than a whisper.
Jinx looked at you thenâreally looked at you. There was something in her eyes you had never seen before. Guilt? Regret? Fear?
"I'm wanted," she muttered, her voice hollow. "A high price. Enforcers are breathing down my neck, and it wonât be long before they figure out Iâve been with you."
Your stomach twisted. "Jinxâ"
"If they find out about you, theyâll come after you too," she cut you off, her voice sharp, raw. "I canât let that happen."
You stepped closer, shaking your head. "I donât care. Let them comeâI can handle myself."
Jinx scoffed, a bitter smirk curling her lips. "You really think that? You think you can take on Piltoverâs enforcers? Theyâre not just gonna arrest you, theyâre gonna use you. Youâre leverage."
"I donât care!" you snapped, your chest burning with frustration. "I care about you! We can leave, go somewhere elseâanywhere. We can figure this out together!"
She let out a breathy, humorless chuckle, shaking her head. "Thatâs cute. Really, it is." But there was no joy in her voiceâjust exhaustion. Just pain. "If you get hurt or if you die...I wont be able to live with myself."
"Donât say thatâ"
"Itâs the truth," she shot back, her fingers curling into fists. "I canât be what you need me to be. And you canât be what I need anymore, either."
"Stop deciding that for me!" you snapped, stepping forward, reaching for her, but she flinched back.
Her eyes darkened. "This isn't a choice."
Silence stretched between you, suffocating.
"So that's it?" you asked, your throat tight. "After three years, you justâwhat? Walk away?"
Jinx hesitated for a moment, her breath shallow. You could see the war in her eyes, the hesitation in her stance. But then, just as quickly, she shut it down. She tugged her hood up over her braids, shrouding herself in shadow.
"Youâll be better off without me," she murmured, voice barely audible. "Just⌠forget me, okay?"
Your heart screamed at you to do somethingâto grab her, to tell her she was wrong, to beg her to stayâbut your body wouldnât move.
And then, just like that, she turned.
"Jinx, wait!" you called, your voice cracking.
She didnât stop.
"Pleaseâdonât do this!"
But the door creaked as it shut behind her, and you stood there, staring at the empty space she left behind, your hands trembling, your vision blurring.
Jinx was gone.
And for the first time in three years, you truly felt alone.

It had been nearly a month since Jinx walked out of your life, and in that time, everything around you had crumbled.
The streets of Zaun had changedâmore enforcers, more raids, more bodies being dragged off to Stillwater. The name Jinx carried more than just a reputation now; it carried fear, chaos, and destruction. And you? You were caught in the middle.
You shut down your tattoo shop, selling off the property after hearing about the latest wave of Jinxers arrested and locked up in Stillwater. You had always been loyal to Zaun, always supported its people in your own way. But when it came to violenceâto the way things had spiraledâyou reached your limit.
You didnât want to be associated.
And so, you drifted.
Days bled into nights, spent drowning in cheap liquor at The Last Drop, trying to forget the way Jinxâs voice used to sound, the way her touch used to linger. You let the numbness consume you, burying the ache of her absence under layers of booze and exhaustion.
But that all changed the night there was a knock on your door.
At first, you didnât think much of it. Maybe your landlord, though you had already paid your rent. You groaned as you pushed yourself off your couch, rubbing your face as you stumbled toward the door, already irritated.
"Dude, Iâve already paidâ"
Your breath caught in your throat as your words died mid-sentence.
Jinx stood there.
She looked different.
Her long braids were gone, her hair chopped short in a messy, uneven cut. Bruises and cuts littered her skin, some fresh, some fading. There was something hollow in her eyes, something worn and desperate.
Before you could say a word, she grabbed your wrist and yanked you forward, crashing her lips onto yours.
You melted into the kiss, your body reacting before your mind could catch up. She was warm, familiar, everything you had been craving for the past month. You clung to her, pouring every ounce of pain, longing, and relief into the way your lips moved against hers.
When she finally pulled away, her breath was heavy against your lips.
"Come with me," she murmured, her voice urgent. "Iâm leavingâfar away from here. And I want you to come with me."
Your heart pounded as you searched her face.
"Jinxâ" You bit your lip, shaking your head. "I havenât seen you in a month. You disappearedâno word, nothing."
Her grip on your wrist tightened.
"And Iâll make up for every second of it," she promised, her voice barely above a whisper. "I swear."
You stared into her eyes, searching for any hint of doubt, any hesitation. But there was none. She was serious. More serious than you had ever seen her.
You exhaled, nodding slowly.
"Let me grab some important stuff."

#jhyoos#arcane#arcane fandom#arcane fanfic#arcane season one#arcane act 3#arcane season 2#jinx arcane#jinx#jinx league of legends#jinx x reader#jinx x you#jinx x y/n#jinx fanfic#wlw post#wlw#lesbians#sapphic
123 notes
¡
View notes
Text
sea trip
hwang jun-ho x preteen!daughter x brief mentions of reader
based off of this request here
for @jalicecookie
the air is crisp, the salty scent of the sea hanging thick as jun-ho adjusts his grip on the railing of the docked boat.
itâs another long night ahead...another desperate attempt to locate the island. the island that has brother. the island that is holding gi-hun hostage. the island that turned men into monsters.
jun-ho exhales sharply, lost in his thoughts, when he hears something behind him.
a scuffle of movement, too light to belong to any of the crew. the police officer's body tenses immediately, instincts kicking in as he spins around...only to freeze.
there, huddled in the shadows of the boat, is his daughter.
jun-ho's twelve-year-old daughter.
sheâs out of breath, eyes shining with excitement, dressed in a hoodie far too big for her, the sleeves covering her hands. the daughter's hair is messy from the wind, and her cheeks are flushed from the night air.
âappa!â she grins, completely unaware of the sheer horror settling in his chest.
âi made it!â
jun-ho doesnât react for a moment. heâs too busy processing. he is too busy staring at her in disbelief, eyes darting between her face and the school uniform peeking out from under the hoodie.
the man's voice is low, tight with tension.
âwhat did you just say?â
she rocks back on her heels, beaming.
âi made it onto the boat! you didnât even notice me, huh?â she giggles, clearly so proud of herself.
âi told you i was getting really good at sneaking aroundââ
âwhat are you doing here?!â his voice is sharp now, cutting through the night like a blade.
the girl's smile falters.
the daughter's brows furrow in confusion.
âiâi came to help! i always hear you talking about taking boats to find an island, so i thoughtââ
he takes a step forward, and she immediately stops talking.
âyou thought what?â his tone is cold, demanding.
she hesitates before looking up at him with unwavering determination.
âthat i could help you.â
jun-ho lets out a long, slow breath, pressing a hand to his temple as if trying to will away a growing headache. the man's heart is pounding. no, not really. it is from fear, overwhelming fear.
she snuck out.
she snuck away from school, away from safety, and onto this boat.
she shouldnât be here. she canât be here.
he crouches in front of her, gripping her shoulders firmly.
âdo you have any idea what youâve just done?â
she bites her lip, eyes darting away.
âi justââ
âdo you understand what you just put yourself in, ë¸?â his voice is low now, strained, as if heâs trying to contain something far bigger than just frustration.
she swallows hard.
âi just wanted to be with you,â she mumbles, suddenly looking so small in front of him.
jun-ho shuts his eyes for a second, collecting himself. when he looks at her again, the frustration hasnât left, but neither has the fear.
âyouâre not supposed to be here,â he says, voice rough.
âthis isnât some adventure. this isnât a game. its apart of my police work... you have no idea what youâre walking into.â
she frowns, defensive now.
âbut i want to help! i hear you talking about it all the time...youâre always searching for the island, always leavingââ
âbecause i have to,â he cuts in sharply.
ânot because i want to.â
she looks down, fingers gripping the hem of her hoodie.
jun-ho exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair before kneeling again. his voice is softer this time, but still firm.
âyou donât belong in this, sweetheart. you should be at home with your mom. safe.â
she clenches her jaw.
âbut youâre never home.â
jun-ho's breath catches in his throat.
âyouâre always gone, appa,â she whispers.
âand even when youâre home, youâre not really there. youâre always thinking about this.â
jun-ho looks at her, really looks at her, and sees what heâs been too blind to notice. the longing. the loneliness. the way she just wants to be close to him, to understand him.
he curses himself silently. he thought he was doing the right thing by keeping her away from all of this, by staying distant, by locking away every terrible thing heâs seen and done.
in doing that, heâs made her feel like she has to fight for his attention. that she has to go to extreme lengths just to be by his side.
his shoulders sag.
âyour mother thinks youâre at a sleepover,â he says quietly.
she nods.
he sighs, rubbing a hand over his face.
âokay. hereâs whatâs going to happen. weâre turning this boat around, and iâm taking you home.â
the daughter's eyes widen.
âbutââ
âno buts.â his voice is final.
âyou scared the hell out of me, do you understand? i donât care how much you want to help me. this is not for you.â
she looks away, clearly upset, but doesnât argue.
jun-ho reaches out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
âiâm sorry i made you feel like you had to do this,â he murmurs.
âi shouldâve been better. i shouldâve been there for you more.â
the girl's eyes flicker with something unreadable.
âyou still can be,â she whispers.
jun-ho exhales, guilt pressing heavy against his chest.
âI'll try, and i know y/n misses me too.â
"yeah, mom does." she nods.
for the first time, some of the tension in the air lifts.
he stands, grabbing his phone.
âi need to text your mom.â
her eyes widen in alarm.
âdonât tell herââ
âoh, sheâs definitely going to know.â
she groans, slumping against the railing.
âiâm so grounded.â
jun-ho almost laughs. almost.
âyeah,â he mutters, shaking his head.
âyou are.â
masterlist
#hwang jun ho#hwang jun ho x reader#squid game fanfic#squid game#squid game s2#squid game season 2#squid game x reader#squid game x y/n#meadowfics#squid game x you#wi ha joon#wi ha jun
109 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Unsent Texts | M Barzal
summary: syd steals matâs phone to uncover how your break up really made him feel.
-
You werenât supposed to be thinking about Mat tonight.
You were supposed to be having a normal, drama-free dinner with your best friend, Sydney.
But the universe had other plans.
Because somehow, in the middle of drinks and half-finished appetizers, Sydney accidentally unlocked Matâs phone. And now? Now youâre staring at hundreds of unsent messagesâall of them to you.
It had been months since you and Mat ended things. At first, it was unbearableâlearning to sleep alone, getting used to waking up without hearing his voice, forcing yourself to unlearn the way you fit so easily into his life. But you did it. You moved on. At least, thatâs what you told yourself. You didnât check his Instagram anymore. You didnât avoid places you knew heâd be. When people mentioned his name, you smiled politely, like it didnât twist something deep in your chest.
And you definitely, definitely didnât still have a note in your phone filled with messages you were too afraid to send.
But it was there. Just sitting in your drafts, filled with late-night thoughts and regrets:
⢠I miss you.
⢠I saw your post-game interview today. You looked tired. Are you okay?
⢠I hate that I still think about you this much.
You could delete it. You should delete it. But you never did.
Sydney had mentioned casually earlier in the night that Mat was at their house before she left to meet you. It wasnât unusualâhe was always around since Matt and him were practically attached at the hip. You brushed it off at the time, convincing yourself it didnât matter.
But now, here you were, holding his phone in your hands. Because he had left it at the Martinâs house, and Sydneyâbeing Sydneyâgrabbed it, meaning to bring it back to him later.
And now youâre staring at your name on his screen.
And a message.
âI keep typing these, but I never send them. I donât even know if youâd want to hear from me. But I miss you.â
Your breath catches in your throat.
âY/N?â Sydney says softly.
You donât answer.
You just scroll.
Because itâs not just one message.
Itâs dozens.
Noâhundreds.
Unsent texts, stretching back months.
⢠I saw something today that reminded me of you. I wanted to tell you but⌠I didnât know if I should.
⢠I donât even know why Iâm typing this. Maybe just to pretend like youâre still here.
⢠I miss your laugh. I fucking hate that I miss your laugh.
⢠I hate that I let this happen.
Your chest tightens. Because you had done the exact same thing. You had unsent messages tooâones you never dared to send, ones you forced yourself to delete because you thought Mat had already moved on.
But he hadnât. Not even close.
âY/N,â Sydney says again, more serious this time. âWhat are you gonna do?â
You shake your head, gripping the phone tighter. âI donât know.â
Because there was only one real option.
You could pretend you never saw this. Put the phone down, walk away, let the past stay buried.
Or You could type a message of your own.
And this time, hit send.
Before you can make a decision, the restaurant door swings open.
And suddenly, there he is.
Mat.
Wearing a hoodie, damp hair from the cold, looking like he rushed here the second he realized his phone was missing. His eyes lock onto you immediately. Then flick down.
To his phone.
In your hand.
And you watch it happenâthe realization, the panic, the sharp inhale when he realizes exactly what youâve seen.
âFuck,â he mutters under his breath.
Sydney coughs awkwardly. âI think thatâs my cue to leave.â
But neither of you even notice her get up.
Because Matâs eyes are locked on yours, his whole chest rising and falling like heâs bracing for impact.
And thenâquietly, hesitantlyâhe asks, âDid you read them?â
Your throat is dry. You can barely breathe.
âYeah,â you whisper. âI did.â
A muscle jumps in his jaw. He swallows hard, rubbing the back of his neck. âI was gonna delete them,â he admits. âI just⌠never could.â
You exhale shakily. âNeither could I.â
His gaze snaps to yours, wide. Disbelieving.
And suddenly, the air between you is charged with something new. Something unfinished. Something that, for the first time in a long time, feels like hope.
The restaurant feels smaller now. Like the walls are pressing in, like the air is thinner, like you might suffocate under the weight of everything you never said.
Mat stares at you, his jaw clenched, his hands curled into fists at his sides like heâs afraid if he moves too fast, youâll disappear.
And maybe heâs right.
Maybe you should disappear.
Maybe you should walk away right now and leave him with nothing but his own regrets, the same way he left you.
But you donât.
Instead, you whisper, âWhy didnât you ever send them?â
Mat exhales sharply, raking a hand through his hair. âBecause I was a coward.â
You blink, not expecting him to say it so bluntly.
âI thought about you every day,â he continues, voice low, hoarse. âEvery fucking day, Y/N. But I convinced myself you were better off without me.â
Your throat tightens. âAnd now?â
His lips part, but he hesitates. âNowâŚâ His gaze drops, flickering to the phone in your hands. âNow I just want to know if you ever thought about me too.â
You inhale slowly. âI did.â
His head snaps up.
âMatâŚâ Your fingers tighten around the phone. âI never stopped thinking about you.â
His face crumplesâlike he wasnât expecting you to say it, like heâs spent months convincing himself you had moved on completely.
And maybe you had tried. Maybe you had told yourself that he was just a chapter in your life, that you had turned the page. But standing here, seeing the desperation in his eyes, knowing that he never stopped thinking about you either?
That changes everything.
âDo you still love me?â The words are out before you can stop them.
Mat inhales sharply.
Then, quietly, without hesitationâ
âYes.â
Your breath catches.
His voice is raw, almost broken. âI never stopped.â
You swallow hard, hands shaking. âThen why did we let this happen?â
Mat exhales, stepping closer, his fingers twitching at his sides like he wants to reach for you but isnât sure if heâs allowed.
âBecause I was stupid,â he admits. âBecause I thought I had all the time in the world to fix it. But then you were gone, andââ He breaks off, shaking his head. âI didnât know how to get you back.â
You stare at him, your pulse pounding.
âAnd now?â you whisper.
Matâs throat bobs. âNow Iâm standing here, praying that I havenât lost you for good.â
You donât overthink it. You donât let fear win this time.
Instead, you take a shaky breathâand hit send.
Matâs phone vibrates in your hands, and when he looks down at the screen, his breath catches.
Because there, sitting in his messages, is the first text youâve sent him in months.
âCome home.â
He looks up at you, eyes wide, glassy, disbelieving.
âAre you sure?â he whispers.
You nod.
And then, before either of you can think twice, Mat pulls you into his arms, gripping you like heâs afraid you might disappear.
And this time, Youâre not going anywhere.
98 notes
¡
View notes