#them reading together in gif 2!!! my little heart!!!
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Aw welcome back, Wayne!! 😘 I'm so happy to hear that you've been thinking of this series. 🥰 And I'm so excited to see what you thought of Part 2...
I'm so in love with their little bonding sessions. Being stuck inside a cabin and playing games? I want that 😍
Aww it's the little moments with Dean that I would so love -- along with just being snowed in, in a cabin with him. 😏
And lol it's gotta be so awkward for true mates when they're still strangers. I absolutely adored her thought process throughout 😆
Lolll YEP exactly. 😆 Like, realistically how do you broach that conversation with someone? I'm glad you liked that attempt to inject some realism there. 🤣
Love how Dean doesn't realize he's oversharing and that his whole childhood might not have been normal 😂
ahaha Dean got so into his story he didn't realize he was giving himself away there! Bit of a rookie move, but she's his literal soulmate, so he's probably a little distracted. 🤪
And oh God, all those journal entries 😭😭😭 I know they're from the OG journal, but it just rips my heart right out again rereading it 😢 Those portray John's despair and heartbreak way better than the show did...
Girl I had never read the official journal, and it hit me in the feels in just the same way. 😭 I had that exact same thought -- that they served to humanize John and explain why he became the way he was with the boys way better than the show did.
Ooooh, let's think about it, shall we? 😏 Her dad might have totally been snatched by something supernatural. Considering their location and how it happened in her memories, it might have been a Wendigo?? 🤔
Ooh you're red-hot! ❤️🔥❤️🔥
Dude! Goosebumps! Wendigos scare the shit outta me 🙈 It's still why The Descent is the scariest movie for me. I die from a heart attack every time 😂 🫣
ooooh my God, I haven't seen The Descent, but if it's anything like the Wendigo episode, than I don't wanna know. 😭 Legit when I was first starting to watch SPN I had to take a break after that episode -- and it was only episode 2!! 😩
No! Alex!!!! YOU KNOW THIS IS WHY I HATE SNOOPING Girl, you're killing me here... 😆😆
LOLL I love that you referenced Smoke Eater -- it's those same vibes from Part 8, isn't it? I have a little less sympathy for the reader in this situation, but she is ultimately sorry for going through his private journal/invading his privacy to the nth degree. 😅
OMGG I LOVED that gif of the little polar bear. 🥹🥹 Took me right out with the cuteness lmao. I laughed so hard at all your commentary with the reader and her lack of bear knowledge. 😝
N'aw, I know it was necessary but poor bear – wrong place, wrong time for the fella 🥺💔
Aww I know, I felt bad for writing that part. Poor Ted. 😭😭
My heart is full 😭❤️❤️❤️ (Also, I doubt he can ever stand to let her go her own way after this lmao)
Ha! You're right about that one. I just love me some protective Alpha Dean. 😏
Huh. Never eaten bear before... Never even thought about it before lol Also seems like something the Shaws would've done 😂
Me either lmao, but I've read about people who actually hunt for a living who survive off bear, caribou, bison, etc. I imagine it's a hard way to live, but omg yeah I could see Ashton making his kids learn how to shoot, but them not wanting to shoot a bear or a deer. 😭
Omg I love that ending! Dean's finally coming around, and she's putting the puzzle pieces about her dad together. I wonder what Dean will do when he hears the full story? Would he go hunt the thing? Is it even still out there??? Questions upon questions... 🤔
Aw I'm glad! Yesss it's about time with him lol. Good thing all your questions there will be answered in Part 3...
So excited for the next part!! I'm loving this story and everything you've put in it, and the dynamic between them is amazing. So well done, friend 😍🩵🩵
Aw thank you so much, my friend!! I tried to balance the slower "getting to know you" parts with some of this actiony/dramatic stuff as they slowly grow closer. 🥰💜💜
Also, don't think I forgot about the last two chapters of Polaris. I'm so looking forward to diving into those chapters soon!! 😘
Against the Wind - Part 2
Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader
Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.
AN:��Thank you guys so much for all the amazing feedback on Part 1! Now, most of your theories and questions will be answered...
Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: True Mates @jacklesversebingo
Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger
Word Count: 3.8K
Tags/Warnings: Angst, and peril, the other kind of "hunting."
Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist
Part 2: Seems Like Yesterday
“I’ll raise you 25,” you say, tossing five chocolate covered pretzels into the middle pile. It’s a risky bet, considering how much you lost in the last hand. Dean regards you with an amused, if critical eye while he holds his cards.
“Ooh, you’re bluffing,” he says. You pop your brows at him, a subtle smile tugging at your lips.
“You want to test that theory? Put your money where your mouth is,” you challenge.
He tilts his head at you with a raise of his own brows.
“Cheeky omega,” he mutters. His attention returns to his cards as he deliberates on his next move.
You attempt to be nonchalant as you glance down at your cards again. It’s a shitty hand, but he doesn’t need to know that. The alpha’s won the last two hands of Texas Hold ‘Em, but you did win the first one. Though you suspect he let you win.
You want to at least even the score before he resumes his work out in the shed. He spends most of his time there during the day, or making sure the firewood is stocked. It seems like he takes any excuse not to spend too much time in your presence.
More than anything, you want to ask him if he feels what you feel—the same tug in the pit of your stomach every time he’s nearby. You just haven’t found a way to broach that with him.
Hey, I know we just met like two minutes ago, but I think we’re supposed to be together. Do you feel it too?
You nearly roll your eyes at yourself. Yeah, that’ll go over well.
So you have to be content with mornings like this and in the evenings, where he lets you put on one of his records, and you two share dinner together, maybe another round of cards. Or you’ll read a book while lounging on the chaise, and he lays out on the couch, listening to his music with his eyes closed. You like watching him like that, with a relaxed, damn near peaceful set to his face.
Too often he holds that harder, stoic expression, or that divot between his brows that makes you want to soothe two of your fingers there; or better yet, lean in and press your lips—
“It’s your move,” Dean reminds you. He’s finally played his hand, but you were too distracted to hear what he said.
“What’d you do?” you ask, surveying the piles of cards.
“Call,” he repeats, popping a few pretzels into his mouth. He washes it down with beer and more barbeque chips. Those are worth $10 in this little fantasy betting. He points a finger towards you with the same hand that holds his beer, teasing, “You got all the lights on in there? Or am I boring you?”
You glance up at him, fighting a smile. “All right, keep your pants on. Let me see…”
As the dealer, he’s already turned over the River: the last card in the hand. It’s a 10 of Clubs, which means your One Pair is actually a Two Pair. It’s still not a great hand, but it’s decent enough to maybe let you get the best of your opponent.
After you go “all in,” Dean’s lips twitch at a smile, and he humors you, going all in as well. You’re on tenterhooks when he finally reveals his hand.
“Ooh, it ain’t a cheesy ‘90s sitcom, but it’s still…a Full House,” he brags as he lays out each card in a smooth line of overlapping cards, the mix of glossy red diamonds and black spades showing the truth. He won again.
You huff in defeat, your shoulders sinking in your seat at the kitchen table. You turn over your measly hand. Sweeping the winnings toward himself (a mound of chocolate covered pretzels, a stack of barbecue chips, and a handful of Oreos), Dean chuckles and tosses you a wink.
“Ah, don’t beat yourself up, sweetheart. I’ve been hustlin’ poker for a long time. Hell, I’ve been playing this game before I even knew my times tables,” he says as he collects the cards.
“That young?” you reply. “Who taught you?”
“My dad,” he says. “Oh, believe me, I used to get my ass kicked many a’ time, but by the time I turned sixteen, I was hustlin’ grown ass men in skeevy bars out of their daily paycheck.”
“You were hanging out in bars at sixteen?” you ask incredulously. There, Dean seems to realize he’s said too much. He becomes more guarded as he puts away the deck and cleans the crumbs off the table.
“My dad was always working. You could say I didn’t really have a curfew,” he says.
“A latchkey kid, huh?” you reply, hiding the way you’re trying so hard to glean any more hints of truth between his words.
“Heh, yeah.” He gets up from the table and tosses the breakfast dishes in the sink, then travels to the front door to don his jacket and boots.
“All right, I’ll be out back,” he says.
Out back, code for out in the shed. You nod, and in a flash, he’s shutting the door behind him.
You’ve learned another small tidbit about him, one that feels more important than it seems on the surface. And yet, it only elicits more questions you doubt he’ll be willing to answer so easily. He’s more than tight-lipped about his past, only giving vague outlines and general pictures.
Even his stories—like being raised up in a family of traveling mechanics, putting Nair in Sam’s shampoo when he was a kid, or the guy’s serious fear of clowns—feel like they’re missing some key details.
You decide to take up your crutches and head for your room. There you unearth the journal from its hiding place under your pillow. This time, you turn to the very beginning. Before all the jargon about mythology (and an odd footnote about a “Turducken Slammer”), there are actual journal entries. The first one dates back to November 6, 1983. The first line already captures your attention.
I buried my wife today. Even as I write that down, I don’t believe it. Last week we were a normal family…eating dinner, going to Dean’s T-ball game, buying toys for baby Sammy. But in an instant, it all changed… When I try to think back, get it all straight in my head…I feel like I’m going crazy. Like someone ripped both my arms off, plucked my eyes out. I’m wandering around, alone and lost and I can’t do anything.
This is Dean’s father, you realize. The more that you read, with no small amount of dismay, you also realize that this man is writing about his wife, Mary.
Dean’s mom…
He writes about their house burning with all their memories inside, along with Mary. Somehow, he saw her pinned bloody to the ceiling.
Along with these pages is a clipping from a news story:
House Fire Kills Mother of Two
Lawrence, Kansas.
You’re spellbound by it all. You keep reading.
November 13, 1983
…Most of our clothes and photos are ruined, even our safe—the safe with Mary’s old diaries, the boys’ savings bonds, what little jewelry we had…all gone. How could my house, my whole life, go up like that, so fast, so hot? How could my wife just burn up and disappear?
The police don’t believe his story, about how she died before the fire, about what he saw. So he tries to convince himself that what he saw wasn’t real. Still, he can’t find rest, and he worries about his sons’ safety.
December 4, 1983
I haven’t let them out of my sight since the fire. Dean still hardly talks. I try to make small talk, or ask him if he wants to throw the baseball around. Anything to make him feel like a normal kid again. He never budges from my side—or from his brother.
Every morning when I wake up, Dean is inside the crib, arms wrapped around baby Sam. Like he’s trying to protect him from whatever is out there in the night.
Sammy cries a lot, wanting his mom. I don’t know how to stop it, and part of me doesn’t want to. It breaks my heart to think that soon he won’t remember her at all.
You don’t realize you’re crying until a droplet lands on the page. You quickly wipe it away before it becomes a stain, and you dry it all the way with your breath before you move on to the next page, sniffling. Your heart hurts, even as your guilt grows. You know now that you’re really, truly invading Dean’s privacy by reading his father’s words. You just can’t stop yourself from turning the next page.
John becomes convinced that someone, or something, started the fire that destroyed his life and took his wife away from him and his sons. He leaves his job and the remnants of that world behind, to venture deeper into the darker one. But in that darkness, he finds truth.
He visits a psychic, Missouri, who leads him back to his house and senses the echoes of an evil presence—something that shakes her to the core, and John too: the creature that killed his wife.
December 20
…She told me that it was the most powerful, awful thing she’s ever come across.
On January 1, 1984, John makes a New Year’s resolution. He determines to find the answers himself.
A shiver runs down your spine. In John’s words, your heart breaks for Dean, but you also see yourself. You try not to think about why.
You keep flipping through the rest of the journal past January. There are translations of a Latin exorcism, and like you read before, strange drawing of evil looking creatures—as well as what they are, scraps of their history, and how to kill them.
Silver bullet to the heart, can’t withstand iron, salt and burn.
You pause on a certain page, more filled with lore than the rest, and a primitive drawing in the center.
WENDIGO
Cree: Evil that devours.
Wood spirit. Eats live flesh. Lives in forests.
Perfect hunter.
Your breath stills in your lungs as a cold sweat forms across your skin. The more you read, the faster your heart beats.
The crunch of dead leaves. Your father shouting at you to run, and keep running.
The coarse shout of a bear morphs into something other. It’s a sharper, whirring sound like wind howling amidst animalistic clicking, and then bones breaking—your father’s scream cut short. You turn around with your rifle in hand, poised to shoot blindly.
Your stomach churns as bile rises into your throat. You feel sick, and wrong, and you suddenly have the urge to throw the journal against the wall.
“Omega?” calls Dean’s sharp voice. “You okay?”
You jolt badly at the sudden noise. You didn’t hear him reenter the house. He likely caught the scent of your distress. He pushes the door of your room open to find you, but he stops short in the doorway. His surprise quickly morphs into a frown when he notices what you’re holding in your lap.
You gasp, freezing where you sit, but there’s no point in trying to cover up what you’ve done. With an angry purse of his lips, he reaches over and takes the journal from your hands.
“What the hell are you doing with this?” he demands.
“I’m…I’m sorry. I just—” You swallow past the lump in your throat. “I was just curious. I wanted to know more about you. I thought it was…a normal journal.”
“So this is how you go about it, huh? Got everything you wanted, Columbo?” he says, his sarcasm cutting into you. He flips through the journal to make sure all the pages are intact before he tucks the journal under his arm. “Seriously, going into somebody’s stuff? Who the hell raised you?”
At that, you begin to bristle.
“My dad,” you snap back. Though remembering the passages you’ve lived with for the past few hours, you soften with a painful twinge of sympathy in your heart.
“And it looks like yours raised you to be some kind of…well, what are you, a ghostbuster or something?” you ask.
His jaw locks. “Or something.”
With an exasperated sigh at his hedging, you swing your legs around the edge of the bed and haul yourself up with your crutches so you can at least match his stance (more or less).
“Dean, please, just talk to me,” you implore, gesturing at the journal tucked under his arm. “The things I read—”
“Are none of your goddamn business!” he growls, making the omega inside you cringe. The alpha’s voice is deep and sharp, and even though he isn’t crowding you, his height and broadness are still intimidating.
“The sooner you heal up, the sooner I can ship you back to where you belong,” he says. “Back to your life, so you can stop sticking your nose into mine.”
Your mouth actually falls open in shock. His vehement words feel almost as powerful as a physical blow, if to your soul. They make your arms tremble while holding yourself upright on your crutches. Hot tears well up in your eyes, though you try to blink them away. After a moment, you’re able to collect yourself enough to speak.
“I’m sorry for going through your stuff,” you say, in a quiet voice.
You hobble awkwardly past him out of the room. You don’t stop until you reach the front door, where your snow boots are. You manage to get them on by yourself so you can go outside and get some fresh air, not to mention some much needed distance from the alpha’s burning presence. You can still feel him trailing behind you. You hear his heavy boots.
“Where the hell are you going?” he grits out.
You hobble faster.
Dean watches you go out the door without a word in irritation, even though it triggers an alarm deep in his gut every time you leave the safety of the cabin.
The snow depth has lightened somewhat since the storm, but it’s still not easy to navigate on your crutches. You get some distance from the cabin, mindful not to go too far. You know you’re limited, and you didn’t even take a gun with you.
Finding a solid tree to lean on, you rest there and try in vain to stifle your tears. You know you were wrong for snooping, and he had a right to be mad, but did he really have to be such a freakin’ bear?
Fucking alphas. I swear.
You thought you were starting to connect with him, but clearly, Dean wants nothing to do with you. He wants you out of his life.
Does he not feel the same pull you feel to him? Does he really not realize…that he’s meant to be your mate?
You take in a shaky breath through your nose. If he does, apparently he doesn’t care.
Just then, you hear the crunch of snow nearby. Twigs snapping.
Your body stiffens with a terrible memory—of that day in the woods. Your breath comes out in short puffs on the cold air, your eyes wide as you listen closely.
Hearing nothing, you allow yourself to breathe a little easier. You venture a few paces forward and to the right, but you stop shy of how it slopes downward. Some unnamed feeling tells you to look over the edge.
You lean over and cast your gaze down the slope, but all you see is snow and trees down below. With a shaky breath, you lean back and look out to the north again. Plodding along the trail, heading towards you, is a bear.
Oh shit…
You remember Dean mentioning something about a bear passing by his cabin a couple of days before the storm. Looks like he’s back to make his rounds.
His fur is dark; from this distance, you can’t tell if it’s a black bear or a grizzly. It doesn’t make much difference when all you have on your person is a can of bear spray. His gait is massive, unhurried, but he lets out a braying sound when your gaze meets his, as if acknowledging you. He stops there for a moment, assessing. Your body locks up with fear.
The bear groans again, this time sharper. You finally snap out of your reverie and force your body to move slowly backward with your crutches spearing into the snow. The cabin isn’t that far, maybe thirty or forty yards at most. Still, the bear can probably beat you.
Instead of trying to run, you stand your ground and shout at the bear, hoping he’ll back off. Your voice dies in your throat when he rears up on his hind legs, with a loud roar. Trembling, you miss a step and get knocked back into the snow on your ass, your crunches falling out at your sides. You scramble inside your jacket for anything that might help you.
Bear spray!
You hurry to get the cap off with shaking hands, but before you can even aim, the creature’s heave paws thudding into the ground in front of you—a gunshot rings out and hits the animal in the chest.
The bear falters, then roars in pain and anger.
Two more shots finally bring it down to an even heavier thud, not far from your feet.
In this moment, these are the things you don’t know about Dean Winchester:
For one, the scent of an omega in distress always calls to an alpha’s protective instincts. But the scent of your abject fear feels like someone tried to rip his lungs out through his stomach.
Second, when he sees you there, your wide, shiny eyes filled with the remnants of panic, yet relief at the sight of him, it takes everything within him not to drop to his knees, grab you by the hair, sink his teeth into your neck and claim you, right there in the snow. Maybe then you’d start listening to him and stop taking your life into your hands.
Instead, his lips purse as he wracks his rifle and slings the strap of it over his shoulder. He stalks toward you and scoops you up, crutches and all. He brings you back to the cabin without a word.
His jaw is once again locked with silence and strain; he doesn’t trust himself to speak until he’s brought you inside and carried you over to the chaise. He sits beside you there and takes an inventory of you with his eyes.
“You okay?” he asks at last.
You manage to meet his gaze and give a little nod.
“Okay. Don’t move,” he says shortly. He gets up and goes to the kitchen, where he grabs a foldable set of knives and a cooler from under the sink.
You watch him in silence, and you realize he’s going back to gut the bear. You didn’t know that he actually hunted out here…well, hunted to eat. He continues to gather items in silence. It gets to a point where you can’t stand it, or his curtness, any longer.
“Thank you,” you say, halting his steps. Dean glances at you over his shoulder, then continues strapping up his supplies. He huffs in response.
“We’re gonna be eatin’ good for a while,” he says without looking at you.
His attitude both hurts you and aggravates you, so much that you refuse to take it anymore.
“Look, Dean. I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have butted into your life,” you say. Frustrated tears well up in your eyes. Expelling a sharp sigh, you amend yourself. “I’m sorry for invading your privacy. I’m sorry about what you went through, and I’m…I’m sorry about your mom. I’m sorry for today. I’ll just…stay out of your way, and I’ll leave as soon as I can.”
Dean finally turns your way, but your lips tremble as you turn your face away from him and shut your eyes tightly against the salty burn of tears. Deep inside, his heart withers in his chest. He sighs and drops his supplies on the couch. He walks over with those heavy boots, and he sits on the edge of the chaise beside you. He hesitates for a moment, but eventually, he rests a warm, calloused hand on your arm and earns your tearful gaze.
“I’m sorry. I, uh…shouldn’t have yelled at you,” he says.
You sniff, quickly wiping away your embarrassing tears as they come. Your cheeks are hot with it.
“What is it you wanna know? About me,” he asks, surprising you that much more.
Your mouth parts, but nothing comes out. It takes you some time to think, but the first thing that comes to your mind is…
“Everything in that journal,” you say, licking your dry lips. “Is it real?”
Dean holds your gaze steadily. You know the truth without him having to say it, but he does.
“I was a hunter,” he says. “Those things you read about, I found ‘em. Killed ‘em. It was my job.”
“And now?” you ask, once that large bit of information has time to set into your brain.
His lips tug at a half smile. “Consider me…mostly retired.”
You exhale softly, and you nod. It earns a furrowed look from Dean.
“You don’t seem all that freaked out by this,” he says, with a more scrutinizing gaze on you.
“Should I be?” you say, with an unsteady laugh.
He raises his brows. “In my experience, yeah.”
You chew on the inside of your lip. You don’t know if you should even put into words what you’ve been holding onto for months. Like John, no one believed you. Even your own mother had started to look at you like you needed a shrink.
“Omega?” Dean presses. His green eyes are perceptive as they take in the conflicted look on your face. “There something you wanna tell me?”
You deliberate for a moment longer. Then, you release a sigh and glance down at your hands clenching in your lap.
“A few months ago, I lost my dad,” you begin.
Dean nods. “Yeah, you said—”
“I lost him in these woods,” you say.
That quiets the alpha.
You shake your head, and you find your words as the memories that have been haunting your nights return to you.
“Like I said, we used to go hiking here every year…”
AN: Just so you know, all of the journal entries appear in the official "John's Journal" SPN merch. 😉
Next Time:
Unease prickles down your spine, though you don’t know why.
“Dad?” you whisper-yell, trying not to spook whatever animal might be out there.
A gunshot rings out, along with your dad’s voice in a shout. Your eyes widen in alarm, and you call his name louder, taking off in a run to find him.
You end up rising over a hill you hadn’t crossed before, but you see your dad below; you recognize his bright blue puffer jacket that Mom got him for his birthday. You call his name, and he looks up at you with fear in his eyes.
Not for himself, but for you.
▶️ Keep Reading: Part 3
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Messy Season 1 Finale Rant
SPOILERS!!
first things first:
i owe the "Buddy is a key theorists" a MASSIVE apology. holy shit you guys are actually geniuses.
i read some of the finale theories, and one of them mentioned that the fact that Nox referred to one of the keys as an "it" in the first few episodes, meaning it could've been possible he was turned into a key at some point, leading him to refer to Violet as an actual person.
Dreams by Night was a really confusing episode to me, but i feel like it ties in a lot with what happened this season and possibly WHY he's a key.
The lock suggests that he's been trapped, and later in Dreams by day we see another panel of him locked up. That also makes me wonder if it was around this time he was turned into a key, and his "original" body or however he looked in stories was TRAPPED in a coffin like this one.
Anyone else who theorized about Dreams by Day, maybe I'm wrong, but I feel like this dream wasn't JUST a thing Chase imagined. It was also Nox's story.
like he looked absolutely terrified in both panels, and we can assume that maybe this was a memory of Nox's that we witnessed?
it would also make sense why "Buddy" had the number "2" written on the back of him. it would be like he wasn't a key at the time.
Even before we saw this episode, I always used to wonder how the keys really came to be. I know they're meant to go into stories, but I genuinely feel like they were once human. Especially after seeing this episode, where he had a desire to be free.
At first I think his wish would've been directed to his "leaders" of Ex-Libris, probably something selfish and horrible assuming they're basically holding Buddy hostage.
Maybe after he was turned into a key he has a little less anger towards Chase?? Now, the conversation with Violet shows his desire to be free.
But it hurt my heart to see his hopelessness even after kissing Chase. For Chase, it was amazing, but to Buddy it was "nothing could come out of this" ARGHHH
This is also so huge because guys, the Keys are People Too ;) But literally this time!! I KNEW it but this is so amazing
There were 4 missing keys, hence the 4 marks on his chest. We know where 3 of the keys are, but we know nothing of the 1 key. What if Buddy was turned into a key because of this, as a "punishment" ?
this rant literally makes no sense but im NOT okay after the finale and i need to think about this more because what the hell. i seriously need time to piece things together.
yes thats me right now.
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Sam and Daniel in 8.10 "Endgame"
#them reading together in gif 2!!! my little heart!!!#stargate#sg-1#stargateedit#sam carter#daniel jackson#amanda tapping#michael shanks#s8#ep10#8.10#***edits#the fact that they purposefully picked actors who had a natural chemistry and then flatly refused to work with that...CRIMINAL#don't get me wrong i love sam/jack and daniel/jack#but sam and daniel are SO well matched! and these two always be cuddlin and lookin at each other with giant fuckin anime eyes#JUSTICE FOR MY SAMDANIEL AGENDA!!!
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꒰ :🥀 [ Deer in headlight ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯
Summary : You've been in the hotel for a while now yet one mistery you never uncovered, where that ears atop his head or hair? So you made it your mission to touch them and figure out if they are indeed ears.. and maybe a discover a matching tail to the ears?
Pairing : Alastor x Reader
Word count : 3025 Words
Genre : Fluff, Slightly suggestive near the end
Warnings ➵ Possessive and out of character Alastor
Part 2 -> < Like a deer in headlight >
a/n : I wanna pat his head and ears so badly, they look so fluffy and when they move around and are pressed to his head? I'm crying-
Also I wasn't able to find that scene as a gif so I made it myself `^` Why that scene? Bcs his ears layed back on his head look absolutely adorable!
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It's bugging you. Keeping a watching gaze on those fluffs atop a certain red-haired head, while you sat at the bar beside Angel who was in a conversation with Huskers, which you don't pay any more attention to. You were drawn in by the man sitting on the couch so carelessly while reading a newspaper.
They had to be ears right? They did move depending on his mood, even if not a lot.. But maybe it was also just his hair and not ears? If it were ears did he also have a tail? Ears and tail would make sense, seeing how he from time to time had smaller or bigger antlers atop his head, especially the big ones in his demon form.
"Are you even listening sweets?" Angels face appeared in front of your own now, twitching together a slight bit of surprise, your head turns to the two demons now and away from a certain deer demon. "Sorry.. I was spacing out a slight bit." You apologize to Angel now, Husk raising an eyebrow as he and Angel had noticed where your attention was diverted to. "Figured sweets, looked like you were eating smiles up with you eyes." Angel sends you a smirk, but you immediately start to shake your head, this wasn't what Angel was having on his mind right now. "I was wondering.. are those ears?" A gasp could be heard from Husk, Angel looking over his shoulder now to analyze Alastor's ears. The white spider was humming a bit, as he was debating whether they were ears or not, but Husker was already looking at you bewildered. "Don't even dare try anything, the last person to try and touch them was dead before they even got close." Now this was beginning to sound interesting, was Alastor this strange about it? If it was hair he wouldn't mind that much right? Well aside from the fact that he overall didn't enjoy being touched if it didn't come from his side or was allowed by him. But if they were ears.. were they sensitive? Was that why he didn't want anyone to touch them and.. did he have a matching tail? A cute little fluff of a deer tail?
Husk saw the gears in your head turning and speeding up, he grabbed both your cheeks as he turned your face to his, his eye staring into yours. "Don't you dare think about anything stupid, do you hear me?" Rolling your eyes, you pushed his hands away. Even though he was grumpy most of the time, you and Husk liked the company of one another, you two were quite good friends by now, so it made you a bit happy how he warned you and worried. But.. it was just thrilling to know, too noisy for your own good. "He won't kill me Husk, I'm his favorite!" Jumping from your seat, Husk lets out a groan, as you stride over to Alastor who is still busy reading the newspaper.
"Alastor! I got a question!" Jumping on the couch beside Alastor, you turn your body to him fully, one leg under you as your arm rests on the backside of the couch. Folding his newspaper together again, he lays it on the coffee table before looking at you. "Well of course my dear, go on ahead and ask whatever your heart desires to know!" He was talking and acting like a gentleman, giving you his full attention the second you addressed him and sat down beside him. "I was wondering for a while.. are those ears or is that your hair?" You were now pointing at his head, a smile still evident on his face, yet it somehow strained the slightest bit with irritation at your question. Huskers in the back was probably already fearing for your life. "Oh my dearest what a straightforward question, but I do fear I cannot answer you this. But do not worry your pretty little mind, maybe someday you will know." A soft pat was on your head, as the radio demon got up and made his way who knows where in quick strides.
"Oh no.. I know that face." Huskers was going crazy right now, the face you were making was one he knew oh so well, one that screamed > the game is on, I will win <. You were going to make this a game for sure, Husker was just praying the hotel would not be destroyed afterward.
The first thing now was to figure out if they really were ears, because if they were, you were so going to extant this self-proclaimed game of yours, to touching them.
"Oh Niffty my darling!" Shouting for the little psycho now, she jumps out of a room, a roach stuck on her little needle-like knife. She was a strange one no one understood, but still lovely and.. quite close to Alastor. "Niffty my dearest, you're very close to Alastor right? Do tell me, are those atop his head ears? Of course, you will get paid too for your information." Holding up a bag of alive insects and roaches, how you got them? Rather not ask, it was annoying and disgusting. Niffty was almost in an instant reaching for the bag, but you pulled it out of reach for her, reminding her what you wanted in return. "He told me how that part was sensitive and I should be careful, never told me if they were ears or not, but they have been pressed to his head a few single times when really irritated.. Now give me the bag!" Snatching the bag from you and running off with maniac-like laughter, she was crazy for sure. But did give you very useful information. Knowing the fact that he said they were sensitive, it makes you even more sure they were ears and pressed to his head when irritated? Yes, ears for sure.
Thats one check-point on your list done, now to the harder part touching them.. and figuring out if he has a tail too before he kills you for touching the ears!
Retreating to your room for now, you get out a notebook and scribble down some ideas of plans on how to touch them, but none of them seem really clever, so your notebook is quickly thrown against the wall out of frustration. A knock echoed through your room shortly after. "I heard a thump and wanted to make sure you were okay, you seem stressed.." Charlie entered your room, as you just slumped back against your pillows. Explaining to her what was bothering you, how you confirmed your theory that Alastor indeed has ears, but that you're now lost at how to be able to touch them. "You could just ask him! I'm sure a quick touch won't bother him!" Charlie was right.. If you would only take a second to touch them, just to feel them, he would agree, right? Thanking Charlie, you quickly make your way to Alastor's radio tower, this time of day he was usually busy writing his script for the following broadcast.
"Enter my dear!" His voice invited you, as he lifted his head to look at you. "What gives me the pleasure of your visit darling?" Pen still in his hand, his attention now on you though. Walking over to him, you look down at him, an unusual sight thinking of how he was normally taller than everyone and towering over them - well only exception might be Angel. "May I touch your ears? Just a second! I'll be quick!" Unnoticeable Alastor's eye twitched slightly from irritation, this topic again, you were not going to let it go, were you? "My dearest, I think I already told you to leave it, beside I never confirmed nor denied if your suspicions were correct." Head leaning on his palm now, as he was watching you, it was clear that if you were going to press on even further, he would get mad, but you didn't care. "I figured thanks to some information from someone, it won't be long! Just a soft touch! Just a second!" Now his eye twitched visibly, his hand raised and with a snap of his fingers, you were outside the door again, as you heard a click of the door being locked. Guess this didn't work.. Next plan.
Apparently, it would be harder than you thought to touch his ears. The first plan failed miserably. Currently, you are enjoying some tea with Rosie, maybe she could help you. Rosie was an old friend of Alastor, they were indeed quite close so perhaps? "Oh my dear, I have to disappoint you, our good Alastor hates getting them touched, he never let anyone near them and if, they were not able to talk about it afterward." So Rosie could also not help you, your ears peeking up now though as Rosie let out a thinking hum. "Perhaps, you could try and bribe him.. He does favor this one place in our town, it's rather expensive but, I can give in a good word for you, I do want to know how he reacts to you, his little darling touching them." Finally, some progress, though you didn't dare ask more about how Rosie had called you > his little darling < that would be for another time.
So with Rosie's help, you get his favorite meal for a good price as you make your way back to the hotel and immediately to Alastor's room. After knocking, his voice invites you in, which you gladly accept. "Oh, my dear Alastor! I got you food from your favorite place~!" In an almost sing-song voice, you announce that you got a meal for him. Now you finally saw it for the first time clearly, his ears perking up before his head turns to you with excitement. "Oh my dearest, you didn't have to!" As he was reaching out, just like before with Niffty, you pulled it out of his reach. "It wasn't cheap so.. how about as a thank you, you let me touch your ears?" The object of your current obsession now turned back, a slight scowl on Alastor's face, while still wearing his usual smile, though it was rather tight. "If that was all you wanted dearest please enjoy the meal yourself, I do not want it for those conditions." Was he for real right now? One you wouldn't eat this because.. it was in no way your preference and second you were only asking for a small touch. Rubbing them once, then you would, probably, never ask him ever again. Rolling your eyes, you push the food into his hands, you know he hasn't eaten yet, he tends to forget. "Eat it but don't think I will give up!" Storming out of his room now, his ears going back to normal, would you be behind him right now and his coat off, you would definitely see his little tail swishing from side to side.
Another failed attempt, your head now lying on Angels lap, as you both were bored in the foyer of the hotel. How could it be that no plan works? Was he despised by the idea of people touching his ears? Or maybe it hurt him? But then he wouldn't have allowed Niffty so many times to put stuff on his head and near his ears, like little self-made crowns or even flowers.
"Still no luck sweets? Maybe you should drop it, whiskers by now also absolutely going crazy worried about what your next plan will be." Angel was patting your head softly, running his fingers through your hair, your legs dangling off the side of the couch. "I really want to touch them, he just won't let me.." A small pout on your lips now, brows arched together in irritation. Over the last few days, you were breaking your head over what you could try next, but nothing really came to your mind. "Say, Angel.. your fluff is also a zone from your spidery traits, right? Would you let someone touch it?" Looking up at Angel now, he raised his eyebrows because you knew a lot of people were touching his fluff, but he figured out what you meant. "I would, because it doesn't do anything to me really, it barely tickles when someone goes too deep into it." It tickles? That was interesting, maybe Alastor's ears were also ticklish and that's why he didn't want them touched. To your surprise Angel pulled your hand to and into his fluff now, you never touched it like this. It was so soft, you bet Angel would make an amazing cuddle buddy. "See? It does nothing, but I know some others like me or smiles, who feel more on their animal traits, take whiskers for example, he wanted to cut off my hands the moment I yanked his tail once when I was drunk." You never knew that, that happened, interesting, you would definitely ask for more details of this story another time. Thinking about it now Husk would also probably not let you touch his ears or tail.
What you didn't notice was a certain demon sneaking into the hotel, watching you touch Angels fluff with stern eyes.
"Dearest!" Alastor was calling from behind you, as you made your way out of your room. "What's the matter? Do you need anything?" Alastor didn't say anything, but simply opened your door again and pushed you inside of your room, closing the door behind him. "Let's make a deal, you have to do something and in return I let you touch them." Your eyes sparking up now.. He was coming to you with a deal for touching his ears? And it wasn't for your soul?! This was probably the best day ever! "Sure whatever you want! Tell me! Now!" Your excitement couldn't be contained anymore.
"You are allowed to touch them once, in return you will never ever touch any other ones animal trait again." Huh? Your eyes blinked a few times as your brain registers his words. He asked you to never touch other's traits again? Did he mean because of you touching Angels fluff the other day? Did he see that? And why did it matter to him? Your brain was trying to puzzle together right now what this meant. "Wait.. I'm allowed to touch them once? No no no.. I'm allowed to touch them whenever I want, in return I won't touch others traits ever again." Holding your hand out with a determined expression now, Alastor's eye twitched again, but he still ended up shaking your hand, green lighting up from your hands for a second, but disappearing again after a second.
"Now.." A smirk played on your lips, as you took slow steps over to the demon, who was watching you closely. He lowered his head slightly for you to reach his head. Hands stopping an inch before his ears, fingers twitching to finally feel his ears. And finally all your advances and failed plans paid off. His ears were soft, the hair.. fur? On them soft, probably softer than his hair. They were rather warm, slightly moving against your fingers. Without thinking, you pressed a kiss against them, a gasp echoing from the demon they belonged to. Who knew all you had to do for him to agree was to slightly rile him up with jealousy?
"O-Okay! Enough!" Pulling back now, he was looking down at you again now. And what a sight he was right now. A sight you had never seen before. His face was bright red, as his ears stood tall in alert now, eyes wide and mouth despite smiling slightly agape by shock, probably of how much he actually liked it. "The deal was I could touch them whenever I wanted!" Looking at him with the best pout you could muster up now. Eye squinting a slight bit at you, before he could react, you grabbed his coat by the front, pulling him to your bed. "I will enjoy this now for as long as I want, I waited weeks and after all these failed attempts!" Fingers back on his ears now, softly running them over the fur, a cateful tug on them had the radio demon himself gasping, before biting his lip while trying to retain his signature smile. Wondering just how far you could go with this, till he might even pass out.
After hours, you finally stopped down to softly patting his hair, running your fingers through his hair. Leaning against the headboard, Alastor rested his head on your shoulder, visibly tired from you toying with his ears, now enjoying the contrast of your soft pats on his head.
"Does it feel weird? Or hurt?" Looking down at him now, you didn't even think of asking if it hurt him. Chuckling at how you're worrying for him now after hours of playing and patting his ears. "Do not worry your pretty little head love, I was so opposed to it because it's quite the opposite. It feels good, too good even sometimes." That explains his reactions a lot, his breath was rather hard when you were playing with them, and his face was crimson red at some point. If someone barged in to see him like this, they would have probably been dead by now. "Makes sense so.. do you have a matching tail?" At that his body tenses up, oh how you loved teasing him. But before you could take a peak under his coat, he was up on his feet and out of the room. This would be a fun new mission.
Angel couldn't help but cackle at the way Alastor stormed through the foyer and out of the hotel, absolutely disheveled. Husker just let out a breath when you joined them at the bar, though it stocked again when you told them of your newest plan of the radio demon and his deer tail. The radio demon probably already dreading your attempts and how he knew, he would in the end enjoy this just as much as he enjoyed you patting his ears.
#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin#hazbin hotel#hazbin imagine#hazbin hotel imagine#alastor x you#alastor imagine#alastor#alastor x reader#hazbin alastor x reader#hazbin hotel alastor
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🍰[WAITLIST] 3D PIXEL COMMISSIONS!🍰
currently closed since i'll be on vacation until february 2025! send me a message if you would like to be put on the waitlist and i'll notify you when these are open again :)
i have comms open for little low poly 3d models!! i can do humanoids and anthros, whether its fanart or your own characters/OCs! feel free to message me with any questions 💗
if you would like a model of something that doesn't fall under the basic humanoid/anthro shape, message me and we'll see if it's something I'm able to do! :D
the base price for a character model is £45 !
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Oh Make Me Over - Emily Prentiss
Likes are always appreciated but reblogs and feedback keep artists going!
Summary: Reader and Emily agreeing to do each other’s makeup devolves into lewd activities.
Word Count: 1.5k
A/N: saw a tiktok that made me so insanely feral so here we are.
TW: dom!emily, lap sitting, cockwarming + penetration (w/ a strap), slight fingering, degradation kink, slight praise, playful thigh slapping, fem + afab reader
Rating: R (mostly smut again, oops)
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“Emily, will you do my makeup?” You approached her from behind, wrapping your arms around her waist.
“Only if you’ll do mine.” She replied, setting the hot tool in her hand on the counter. She looked at you through the mirror, admiring the way your chin sat so perfectly on her shoulder.
“Let me finish my hair and we can start, go get everything together and I’ll be right in.” She smiled, turning to kiss your cheek.
You padded out of the bathroom, collecting both of your makeup bags and setting them on the nightstand while you relaxed on the bed. You pulled out the book you were reading, scanning through a chapter until Emily walked in.
“You first babe, I have an idea for mine.” She hinted, peaking your curiosity. She joined you on the bed, grabbing your makeup bag and moving to straddle your lap. She laid out the contents of the bag on the bed next to you, asking you to hold certain things as she went to work making you over.
Having her on top of you made your body temperature rise, your heart rate increasing every time she bit her lip in concentration and held your chin to move your face whichever way she needed you to face.
“Look down.” She commanded, ready to apply the smokey eye you had requested for your first proper date night in months. Your gaze dropped, giving you an eyeful of her ample cleavage in the low-cut top she had chosen. Something told you she was doing this on purpose but you weren’t complaining. The next thing you knew she was gripping your chin, holding you firmly in place.
“I’m doing your eyeliner, don’t move.” She was a little extra firm this time and you could tell she was in one of her dominant moods today. That thought had you clenching your thighs together, wondering what she would do to you when you got home from your date.
“Lashes?” She asked, holding up your favorite pair of falsies. You nodded, wanting to look extra pretty for her. She applied the lashes, blowing softly against your eyelids to help the glue completely dry. The new sensation sent a shiver down your spine, and you almost whined when she leaned away from you to grab a mirror.
“Thoughts?” She watched your expression, loving the way your eyes lit up when you took the look in.
“You always make me look so pretty.” You praised her handiwork.
“You’re always gorgeous.” She sighed, a little disappointed in your backdoor self-depreciation but always loving to hear that she’s made you happy. You blushed, still not fully sure how to feel comfortable receiving compliments, even from your girlfriend of 2 years.
“So what is your idea for yours?” The curiosity was driving you wild, Emily always has the best ideas.
She got off the bed, going over to the dresser and opening the drawer the two of you kept your toys in. You watched her carefully, trying to see what she was grabbing until she turned around, strap in hand. You gulped, cheeks flushing.
“We have to leave soon or we’ll miss our reservation, I don’t think we have time to do your makeup and do that.” You reminded her, trying to remain rational.
“Not if we do both at the same time.” She smirked, stepping into the harness and tightening it around her hips. You remained silent, still a bit confused until she climbed on the bed, settling with her back against the headboard, strap resting erect in her lap.
“Come here.” She beckoned you toward her, her hands resting on your hips as you hovered only inches from the toy between you.
“Have you ever heard of cockwarming?” This line of questioning was not what you were expecting when you imagined your first date night in months. You shook your head, the name giving you an idea but not 100% sure on the definition.
“I want you to sit on my lap with this inside you and do my makeup. You can do whatever you want on it, as long as you stay focused and get my makeup done in time to make our reservation.” Her eyes sparkled and even though you were a little unsure, the ache between your thighs was growing by the second and the concept of getting some relief was more than enough to convince you.
“Okay, I think I can do that.” You finally answer after a moment, reaching for her makeup bag and splaying the contents on the bed like Emily had done with yours. When you were ready you draped your hand over her shoulder, lifting your hips and holding your skirt up so you should position yourself above the fake cock. You reached down, pumping your fingers into your entrance to double check that your desperation had aroused you enough to safely sink onto it before positioning the head in place of your fingers, the stretch drawing a gasp of air from your lungs. You sank down completely, pausing for a moment to adjust to the feeling before reaching for Emily’s primer, ready to start your task.
You got to work, applying her base products as you slowly swiveled your hips, allowing yourself just enough stimulation to keep you satisfied but still focused on what you were doing. An issue began to arise when you reached for her eyeshadow palette, ready to start getting into the more tedious details. The slight friction wasn’t enough anymore, the carnal desire inside of you beginning to overwhelm.
You started bouncing your hips, starting out slower as you laid down a transition shade on Emily’s eyelids, pausing briefly to grab a different brush to put the dark shade of brown on her outer corners. You tried your best to blend the two shades seamlessly, but your hips seemed to have a mind of their own as you continued to increase your pace. You were chasing a slowly approaching orgasm and your focus was quickly slipping, pausing your work a little too long for Emily’s taste.
“Stop.” She commanded, her hands gripping your hips to pull you down to a stop.
“If you don’t focus we’re going to miss our reservation, is that what you want?” She chided, holding you still.
“No, I’m sorry.” You mumbled, grabbing a new brush to add the final eyeshadow shade. You held her still this time, your free hand gripping her chin as you did her eyeliner. When you grabbed her mascara, instructing her to blink as you applied the dark coating to her lashes, she let go of your hips, silently telling you to start moving again.
You reached for her setting spray, bouncing your hips once again as you shook the bottle, finally spraying the last step over her face. She took the mirror, inspecting your work as you continued attempting to get yourself off.
“You did a pretty good job for a selfish brat.” You didn’t want to admit it but hearing her demean you like that had you chasing your orgasm even harder, too turned on to question why. You were too lost in pleasure to realize that Emily had packed up her makeup, clearing the bed to make space for her to flip you onto your back, driving her hips into you as hard as she could.
“You want to cum, slut? You better hurry up, we only have a few minutes.” She taunted, her thumb finding your clit as you cried out underneath her, each thrust of her hips into your aching cunt rubbing perfectly against that soft spot inside you.
“Do you like when I make you fuck yourself for my entertainment?” You barely registered her question as you felt yourself teetering on the edge, so close to release.
“Answer me.” She demanded, slapping your thigh.
“Yes!” You cried out, euphoria washing over you as your orgasm finally hit, back arching and hands clutching at the sheets beneath you. As you came down Emily pulled out of you, planting kisses across your collarbone.
“Are you okay, love?” She asked, slight concern in her voice.
“More than okay.” You panted, still catching your breath.
“We really do need to leave in a couple minutes, what panties do you want?” She looked to you, opening your underwear drawer.
“Pink flowers.” The words had barely left your lips when she was already at your feet with the pair, helping pull them up your legs.
“I love you.” You smiled down at her, loving the dynamic the two of you share.
“I love you too babydoll.” She replied, taking your hand to help you to your feet to finally leave for your date.
——
Tag List: DM me or send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my general or Emily Prentiss taglist :)
#emily prentiss#emily prentiss fanfiction#emily prentiss fic#emily prentiss smut#emily prentiss x reader#wlw fanfic#criminal minds#criminal minds fandom#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fanfiction#mine#my writing#1k
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Next Mrs. Hughes...
synopsis: y/n and Quinn spend time at the lake house. she overhears Quinn's plans for the future
warnings: making out, descriptions of sex, slight breeding kink, MINORS DNI, 18+
wc: 1.5k
This could be read as a part two to this
*not my gif*
You and Quinn have been dating for 10 months now. This means you are officially invited to the Hughes’ lake house over the summer. 2 months of just soaking up the sun and spending unlimited time with Quinn, his family, and your numerous friends. Finally, getting Quinn’s almost undivided attention since the season is now over and he can relax before training starts.
Your relationship with Quinn has progressed rapidly. Being together for almost a year will do that, you are now looking at moving in with Quinn once your lease is over in August. You have already started moving some of your things to his apartment since you spend so much time there. His family has welcomed you with open arms, especially after seeing how well you handle Quinn, even when he’s cranky. You also were very good at wrangling all of the boys when they got too rowdy or if it was dinner time.
Like now, you are attempting to get all of the boys off the boat and up to the house to help you set the table. Quinn and you have been in the kitchen for a good chunk of the afternoon prepping a huge meal for everyone. After finally getting the boys to calm down a little and get ready for dinner you walk back inside to check on Quinn. As you are rounding the corner you hear Quinn’s hushed voice along with Ellen’s. You halt in your tracks, not trying to eavesdrop but also not wanting to interrupt the moment. What you hear though makes all of the blood rush to your cheeks.
“Mom, I’m going to marry her and she’s going to make a great Mom one day,” you hear Quinn whisper. Your heart flutters, you knew that the relationship was serious and while you had known Quinn was it for you, neither of you had fully voiced your opinions about marriage and kids just yet. You could hear Ellen clap her hands together before replying, “Oh, Quinn! That makes me so happy to hear. Do you need any help from me? Have you bought a ring? When are you going to ask? Does she-”
Quinn cuts off his mom’s rambling with a quiet chuckle, “Slow down, Mom, I have a ring in mind and I’m not thinking of asking until Halloween time, that is her favorite holiday after all,” you can hear Quinn walking around the kitchen and realize you need to make yourself known before you are caught. You quickly open and shut the sliding door louder than before and walk into the kitchen. After walking in you notice that Quinn’s cheeks are slightly pink and Ellen is wearing a dopey smile on her face as she looks at you.
You walk up to Quinn, grabbing his hand, before looking up at him, “Everything going okay in here, handsome? Do you need me to do anything else for you?” You round out your eyes to appear as innocent as possible, Quinn clears his throat before replying, “Uh- No, angel. The food is almost done, if you and Mom want to grab some of the salads and bring them outside that would be great. I will meet you out there with the main stuff in just a few minutes,” You nod your head at Quinn, reaching up to place a kiss on his cheek before turning to grab the salads and take them outside.
You and Ellen head out to set everything on the table. The boys profusely thanked you both as they were absolutely famished after drinking and being on the boat all day. Quinn came out shortly after with the main dish and everyone quickly dug in. You sat quietly next to Quinn with a hand on his thigh while you ate. Listening to all of the boys tell stories from previous summers that had your stomach hurting from laughing so hard.
After dinner, the boys were quick to grab all of the plates, Jack walking over and placing a kiss on the top of your head, telling you they would handle all of the clean up since you did so much for the meal. Jack and Luke had been especially sweet on you after finding out you were dating Quinn. The three of you just clicked and Quinn couldn’t be happier that you got along so well with his brothers.
Once the table was cleaned up the boys decided to head back out on the boat with Ellen and Jim. You had told Quinn you were going to read and relax in your room and he decided to stay with you. You knew he was going to do this, and this meant you would have the whole house to yourselves for at least two hours. After hearing Quinn talk about marriage and kids earlier it had you riled up, you had to do something about it.
Quinn held your hand as you both walked up to your shared room. Quinn walked in first and you shut and locked the door behind you before leaning your back on it. Quinn gave you a confused look as you hadn’t walked further into the room. You looked at him through slightly hooded eyes before speaking up, “I overheard what you were saying to your mom in the kitchen, handsome. That you want to make me your wife, to let me have your babies…” You trailed off while biting your lip.
Quinn wore a slightly shocked expression before it was quickly overtaken by lust. You could see his eyes darken before he walked over to you. His hands settled on your hips while he came close enough that your noses brushed, “D’you like the idea of that, Angel? You want me to make you the next Mrs. Hughes? Fuck you full of my babies? Oh, of course you do, just look at the way you’re clenching your pretty thighs for me,” Quinn clicked his tongue at you before capturing your lips in a bruising kiss.
Your eyes fluttered shut as you lost yourself in the feel of him. He moved closer to push you harder into the door, hips flush as he moaned into your mouth. He pulled away only to whisper a single command, “Jump.” You were quick to wrap your legs around his hips, arms tangling around his neck as he carried you to bed. He set you down gently before climbing over you. Quinn was always so gentle with you, making sure you were comfortable before continuing.
Quinn knew you were on birth control and that actually getting you pregnant now was not part of the plan, but he couldn’t stop himself from wanting it. He wanted to stuff you full, make sure the only thing you could feel was him. It was overwhelming, these feelings the both of you had, it was carnal.
Clothes came off quickly and before you knew it, Quinn’s cock was fully seated inside of you. He let you adjust to the stretch of him before setting a consistent rhythm. One that hit the deepest spots within you, making you writhe beneath him. He pinned your hips to the mattress as his thrusts sped up, slowly losing his resolve. You knew he was close and so were you. Leaning up you whispered in his ear knowing it would send him over the edge, “Quinn, let me make you a daddy” You breathy moan in his ear along with your words caused his thrusts to falter. He groaned, burying his head in your neck, and thrusting as deep in you as he could. You could feel the warmth of his release mixing with yours.
He stayed inside of you for a little bit longer before slowly pulling out. Both of you winced at the feeling before Quinn looked down between your legs. He looked mesmerized at his cum leaking out of you. Before he could stop himself he reached down and stuffed two fingers inside of you, pushing his cum back in. You moaned at the sensitivity and grabbed his wrist. Quinn looked up at you with wide eyes, “Shit- Sorry, princess, I couldn’t help myself, gotta make sure it takes. I gotta keep you full of me, baby.”
Your eyes slightly rolled back at that, pulling him down to kiss you. He eventually pulled his fingers out from between your thighs and you were quick to lick them clean. Quinn chuckled and laid down next to you, hauling you into his arms and taking deep breaths. Neither of you expected that this was how your night was going to end, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Quinn kissed your forehead, “I cannot wait to make you my wife, or for us to start our own family when we are ready, I want forever with you.” Your eyes closed as you basked in the moment, tears gathering on your waterline because of the immense amount of love you felt for Quinn. All you could do was nod and mutter, “Me too, I love you so much.” After that you and Quinn fell asleep completely content and so in love.
#quinn hughes fic#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes smut#quinn hughes imagine#quinn hughes#jack hughes#luke hughes#nhl players#nhl hockey#nhl#nhl imagine
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My dearest friend and enemy
Part 1 | Fernando Alonso x Reader
Summary: You and Fernando always dreamed of the day you'd get into Formula 1. Unfortunately, the competition, the pride and the stubborness, get in the way of a beautiful friendship.
Word count: 7.8k
Tags: female!reader, driver reader, coming of age, ups and downs of a friendship, brocedes coded, very very angsty, cursing, anger, fights, overuse of flavio briatore as a plot device, lots of low blows, sprinkles of romance, kissing, making out, happy ending, not beta read
Relationship: Fernando Alonso x Reader
Note: Someone requested this, with this very detailed request, and it has consumed my every thought for the past week or two. I had to tweak some things from the request here and there, hope it's ok. It's heavily inspired by brocedes. Obviously we don't have all the facts with whatever happened to Lewis and Nico, but I have my own theories, that I tossed around this story here and there. (There is a lot of info that is wrong or inaccurate, I did this on purpose to fit my narrative, if you catch them, please ignore)
I'm sorry if it feels rushed, this was getting way too long and I just wanted to follow my heart. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx
[If you have never listened to Tamino, or never heard this song, please do a favor to your brain and heart, and listen!]
Find me on Twitter!
PART 2 (END)
You wouldn’t cry. You wouldn’t cry.
You repeated those words to yourself as you stared at your fucked up kart, it wasn’t even starting. You didn’t have any more money to repair it, and if you didn’t, then you wouldn’t be able to keep going in the competition.
“Hey, are you alright kid?” Someone stopped you, and your tears fell down. You used the sleeve of your overalls to wipe your face.
“I won’t make it to the final round of the competition,” you pointed to your kart.
The boy knelt down beside you, taking a look at your kart. It was the first time you really looked at him. He was a bit older than you, probably two or three years, since you had seen him in the next category, and you knew he was one of the best from what you could see.
He walked away suddenly, but came back a minute later with a tool box. He knelt down and started tinkering with your kart.
“What- what are you doing?” You asked crouching beside him. He only hummed, seemingly concentrating on his work.
After a few minutes of silence, he asked you to test to see if it would work, and you started your kart, and it did work.
“Oh my god!” You smiled, leaving the kart, “how- how much does it cost?”
“Don’t worry, I wanted to help,” he shrugged, putting back his tools.
“Are you sure?” You asked again.
“Yes,” he stood up, and as his eyes found yours, shining under the sunlight, you smiled at each other.
“Thank you so much!” You said, offering a hand for him to shake.
“I’m Fernando,” he said, and as you said your name back, he smiled a little shyly and just said, “I know.”
“You know?” You whispered.
“Yeah. I’ve seen you in your kart. You’re good.”
You bashed under his praise, cheeks warming and stomach full of butterflies.
From then on, you and Fernando became friends, always meeting up in karting competitions, despite being usually in different categories, since he was a bit older than you. But you’d always be seen together on those occasions, or either of you on the stands, cheering for the other. Your parents knew you were close friends, and after a while, your parents would take turns at taking you two for competitions, usually going together.
You met again when you got to the Spanish Junior Championship, it was your first time at that competition and it would be Fernando’s third. Your rivalry was mostly playful in that competition, you were still the best of friends, even when you got close to his score, you still managed to leave the rivalry on the track. When it ended and you stared up at Fernando from the second place podium, you felt proud of him, happy even. You understood that he had more experience than you, winning that competition three times in a row, and you always would have next year to catch up to him.
That day when he took your hand to walk back to his dad, he held your hand tight. And when they dropped you off at home, you winked at him.
“I’ll catch you next year.” You walked to the door hearing him and José Luis laughing back in the car.
You didn’t manage to catch him next year. Fernando reached new heights as he moved up to world championships. Life took you apart, and without your greatest opponent in the championship, you took it home for three years in a row.
The next few years, you and Fernando were mostly apart. The distance was eating you thin, even when you two managed to talk for a couple of hours on the phone, or whenever he sent you letters talking about his biggest achievements. You still saw each other over summer and winter, which was what mostly kept your bond strong. You also managed to kart for fun sometimes, or go for ice cream, or just sit on the porch of your house, talking about life. You two always shared an ice cream on your birthdays, a tradition that was born ever since you were 13, and you and Fernando gathered together every coin you had to be able to buy one ice cream cone that you happily shared sitting on a sidewalk.
“We’ll make it to Formula 1 one day, Nena.”
You laughed. Despite being the greatest dream of them all, by that time, it had been twenty years since the last woman had been in a Formula 1 car, really competing. You wanted to, so bad, but you didn’t want to get any hope for it to be crushed later on.
“You, most likely, Nano. You’re brilliant, I’m sure you’re going to be a world champion one day,” you said, playful, “just don’t forget us peasants when you’re rich and famous.”
“You have too much faith in me, Nena,” he shook his head.
“No, I just know stuff. When you get your world championship, I hope you will hear my voice in your head telling you I told you so.”
He laughed it off.
Fernando extended you a bottle of cheap wine, it was his way of celebrating your 18th birthday, now you were of age. The wine warmed you up, leaving a pretty stain in both of your lips.
“What about that girl you liked? Are you dating her yet?” You asked to break the silence.
“No…” he shrugged then took the bottle from you to take a chug straight from it, “she’s not for me.”
“I’m sorry,” you said, even though he didn’t look particularly unhappy about it.
“Don’t be. It was just a silly crush,” his lips turned down, “The girls don’t find me attractive enough,” he shook his head, feeling shy for having this conversation with you, “and I don’t know, I’ve always been a little shy, I guess. I don’t have much experience in romance. None, if I’m being honest.”
“None?!” You sounded shocked at his lack of romance. He just shook his head.
At eighteen you had your fair share of teen love, having crushes here and there, sometimes even sharing kisses under the bleachers at school. Fernando was your best friend and you knew him like no one, and you could see that he was lonely and feeling embarrassed, up until that point, his life had been school, karting and work to fund his karting.
“Would you like to?” You asked, suddenly turning to him after drinking a sip of courage from the wine bottle.
“Like to what?” He frowned.
“To be kissed?” You whispered, and looked behind you, inside your house, where your parents were inside.
Your heart raced faster than you ever did, his pretty eyes looking for your face, trying to find any sign of joking, like you were just being silly. But you were serious, looking at his face intently. You were about to back pedal when he nodded softly.
“What-” his voice failed, and he gulped nervously, “what should I do?”
“Just follow my lead, and you will feel what to do,” you said, extending a hand and holding his face, “close your eyes.”
He did, and you just closed the distance quietly, but when you had barely touched his lips with yours, he bursted out laughing, leaning back. You also laughed at the strangeness of the situation.
“It’s ok, we don’t have to, Nano” you recovered, but he shook his head, giggling.
“No, sorry, sorry! You’re my favorite person, I trust you,” he sighed, closing his eyes again.
You held his face, trying to get closer again, and this time he let you. With a soft press, you pecked his lips for a couple of seconds. You felt butterflies in your stomach, and they pushed you to push into his lips, mouth opening a little and him following your lead. One of his hands found your face, and you deepened the kiss. He was inexperienced but surprisingly patient, letting you lead and slowly picking your pace and moves. Your kiss turned into an almost make out session, lasting long minutes, with Fernando getting the hang of it with every passing second. When you parted, his cheeks and lips were red, and you two smiled nervously at each other.
“Was that ok?” You asked, suddenly insecure.
“More than ok,” he whispered back, “I think we-”
A loud noise from inside your house made you two jump away from each other, and a second later, your mom’s voice boomed through the door, reminding you of your curfew, and checking your watch, you noticed it was almost eleven.
“Sorry, Nano. I have to go,” you stood up and he followed you.
“See you Saturday to go karting?” He asked just to confirm the plans you had made earlier.
“See you,” you waved awkwardly before sprinting inside your house.
Skipping to your room, you locked the door behind you and pressed a hand to your lips, still warm from kissing your best friend. Going to your window, you pulled on the curtains and watched through the gap as Fernando left, calmly walking down the street.
You never talked about it. And when you met again at the end of the week, none of you mentioned the kiss, things quickly went back to normal as you two pretended it never happened. Over a few months, your heart never let you forget about the kiss you shared with your best friend, and whenever you laid in bed to sleep, your mind would wander back to that specific night. You spent months building up the courage to confess you had feelings for him, and you wanted to be more than friends. Your choice was to tell him on his birthday, when you usually would go for a birthday ice cream.
“I need to tell you something-” You said at the same time he muttered, “Can I tell you something?”
“Go ahead,” he said, gesturing to you, but at that point, your bravery quickly faded.
“No, you first. You’re the birthday boy!”
“Uh, I’m dating a girl. I’m going to introduce her to you and my family at the birthday party tonight.”
That moment, with a smile frozen on your face, a small part of you was ripped forever. The excitement and fear of a young love turned into stone at the pit of your stomach. To this day, you don’t know how you managed to not burst into tears that very moment. Instead, you kept smiling, asking Fernando for more details so he could get distracted and not notice the pain in your eyes.
Managing to bury what you decided to call a silly teen infatuation after a few months, your friendship with Fernando became even stronger everyday that passed.
You made it to the international and European competitions, winning the former twice in a row, and the latter once. You were in the Euro Open when Fernando made it to Formula 1.
He told you personally, when he signed with Minardi, and you were so happy you jumped on his arms, hugging him tight and screaming.
“I told you! I told you!” You shouted, as he carried your feet from the floor, “My best friend is in Formula 1! Oh my god, Nano!” You let go of him, your smile barely fitting your face, “I’m gonna be insufferable! I’m claiming bragging rights right now!”
He only laughed at your happy ramble.
You balanced your competitions with working double shifts for almost two months, so you could afford to go to the Spanish Grand Prix the year of his Formula One debut. He didn’t win anything that year, but he still had your immense support every step of the way. When waves of self doubt came and left him shaken, you’d hug him and whisper softly how he was just a rookie, how he would still have time to prove himself.
“You’re gonna be one of the best there is, Nano.”
“You think so?”
“I know so.”
He also would show you support whenever your schedule at the Euro Open didn’t coincide with his at Formula 1. It was one of the best feelings to get to the podium and see your best friend as you held the trophy. When you finally found him after the podium, he hugged you for a moment, commenting on his favorite moments from your race. As you stood, he gestured to someone, and a beautiful girl came closer.
“Nena, this is my girlfriend, Lucia,” he pointed. Your smile froze for a second. Another one, since the girl from last year couldn’t handle the distance of dating someone who was constantly traveling the world.
“It’s so nice to meet you!” You shook her hand, suddenly self conscious of your frizzy hair and sweat damp overalls. She was so pretty. So much prettier than you.
Lucia was pretty and kind, a little bit clingy, but she treated you very well, and wasn’t jealous of your friendship with Fernando, different from the last one. All your flings never went as far as becoming boyfriend or girlfriend, so you decided to focus more on racing and trying to make a name for yourself.
“Fernando,” you called one of the rare days you two were both free and could laze around, this time, sitting on the ground of the garden, staring at the clear sky and sharing a pint of ice cream.
“Hm?”
“I talked to your dad, and you’re going to be free the day of the last race of the Euro Open, so I was wondering if you will come to see me become the champion?” You turned to him, a smile adorning your face.
“Confident, are you?” He teased your certainty that you would win the competition.
“Not confident, just focused,” you corrected him, and started explaining the date of the race, but as you talked, his smile quickly faded and you stopped.
“I’m sorry, Nena. It’s Lucia’s graduation that day, I can’t miss it.”
You swallowed, thinking it would matter so much to you that he’d be there, but at the same time, you didn’t want to be selfish or make it seem like you’re competing with the girl he loved. You tried to disguise the disappointment in your face, but he noticed. At that point he knew you for half of your lives, he knew very well when you tried to mask your sadness. And unfortunately, he had been on the receiving end of that sad face one too many times.
“Oh,” you nodded, “Don’t worry, I totally understand.”
Fernando pressed his lips thin, your meek voice doing nothing to soothe the squeezing in his heart.
The day you won the Euro Open, you could barely contain your happiness as you stood on the podium, showing your trophy to your parents, who were watching you all emotional. As the podium ceremony finished, you walked back to your parents, your mom wiping her tears and your dad the happiest. Then, you finally noticed Fernando was with them.
“Nano!” You hugged him.
“Congratulations, champion!” He said. Your heart was so full you thought it would explode, so all you managed to say were two words.
“You came.”
“You called.”
Later you found out through your mom, who found out through Fernando’s mom, who found out from Fernando’s dad, that Fernando and Lucia had broken up. They said it was because of the distance and the relationship didn’t last more than seven months. You couldn’t blame her, you as his best friend barely saw him that year either.
You became a reserve driver for Renault in 2003, meeting Flavio Briatore yourself after you won the Formula 3000 two years in a row. You knew that, by that time, Fernando had ties with Flavio, but the man assured you it had nothing to do with Fernando, and everything to do with you being extremely talented.
Still, that same week you found Fernando, to inquire if he had anything to do with Flavio’s invitation, but he assured you that you’d achieved that with your own merit. The unexpected chance to race came when by the end of the following year, Fernando’s teammate was fired by the end of the season. So you had to replace him for the remaining three races of the season, the team fighting for P2 in the constructors championship. The first two races you went alright placing P7 and P5, but still not where you wanted to place.
“Hey, you’re doing great, Nena,” Fernando told you right before the race started. He knew you were upset, frustration practically emanating from your body.
“Not as great as I can do,” you shook your head.
“Just do your best, ignore everything else.”
You nodded, before closing your overalls and gettin ready to get in the car. That race, you and Fernando managed to race just like in your karting days, with a silent partnership never seen before coming from Fernando. You placed a 2-3 podium, him ahead of you.
When you got out of the car, you jumped straight into his arms, screaming and celebrating. Your first ever podium in Formula 1.
During post race interviews you accidentally let out to the media that you and Fernando were childhood best friends, which they took as a personal reason to go digging into your lives.
Next season, Flavio signed you with the team. But before anything, he sat you down for a talk. He explained how Fernando would be top priority this year, you were a rookie, and they would offer you all the support but you had to help Fernando first.
“You will gain experience, work together with your best friend, and we can achieve great things this year. And depending on how good of a performance you show this year, next year you will be able to race for the championship, yes?” Flavio explained.
And you were fine with that, Fernando would be the main priority while you took the year to get used to the car, to being in an entirely new category, while helping your best friend reach his peak. It was the dream, finally. It was the thing both of you had daydreamed together, nothing could get in the way of that.
So you did just that. You kept your head down, fighting fiercely against your rivals, and keeping yourself out of the way whenever you and Fernando were close in a race. Your time would come, as Flavio had promised. That season you managed good results in the points, and even got five podium finishes, which landed you fourth in the drivers’ championship and managed Renault to win the constructors.
That day in Interlagos, during the Brazilian Grand Prix, you woke up knowing Fernando would become world champion. You didn’t tell him to not put any more pressure on him. He only needed a podium to mathematically become the champion of the world.
He finished P3, and you finished P7. Seeing Fernando radiantly happy, dancing, shouting and jumping was etched forever in your brain as one of your happiest memories. The way he eventually found you, holding you firmly against him, the both of you crying happy tears became headlines all around the world.
“I told you, didn’t I?” You broke the hug so you could stare into his red rimmed eyes.
“You did. You’re right more often than not, I’ve come to realize.” He whispered. When someone tried to put a mic in your faces, Fernando pushed it away.
“This is your moment, go.” You gestured to the other side, where he had to go before the podium.
Looking up from the ground to Fernando, you were so happy you thought your heart would burst open. And you couldn’t wait for it to be your turn, to feel this happiness the other way around.
That night, you, Fernando and the entire team got ready to party, to celebrate his championship. You dressed up to the nines, putting makeup and spending a good half an hour styling your hair. When you left the elevator, meeting the whole team at the lobby, they shouted and whistled saying you were pretty. It made you a bit shy but you liked the attention.
You and Fernando danced and drank like crazy that night, going strong all the way into the morning. When the party ended and you two sat on your suite balcony, watching the sun rise, you bought out an ice cream pint you had kept in the room minibar.
“How do you feel, Mr. World Champion?” You sat cross legged in front of him.
“Like a dream come true, sometimes I don’t even believe it’s real,” he said, staring into the horizon.
“Remember when we would talk about this moment?” You took his hand in yours, as he nodded, “Wow. This is great. I’m so happy for you, and happy for fifteen year-old Nano, the bright eyed boy that fixed my kart charge free.”
It’s barely a second after you finished speaking that Fernando leaned into your space and just kissed your lips. It took you a second to understand what was going on, but when his hand found your hair, you reciprocated. His lips, that had been cold from the ice cream quickly became warm under your ministrations. You held his shoulders and let him pull you closer, until you were straddling his lap. The kiss was messy, all over the place, clanking lips, teeth and tongue. You moaned softly as he squeezed your ass, and you pulled his hair at the nape, grinding down on his lap, making him groan too.
“We should not,” he said, breaking the kiss. You nodded, panting.
“Yeah, totally, we-” you tried to speak but he nipped at your neck and you lost all train of thought.
“No, we won’t ruin-” he tried again but you pulled his hair, forcing his head up so you could kiss him.
“You’re right-” you muttered against his lips, right before smashing it when you kissed him again. You stayed there, kissing, making out like you were teenagers again, too scared to reach for each other's clothes and take the next step.
When the sun was fully up in the sky, and whatever was left of the ice cream had melted, your alarm rang, and you and Fernando parted. You were about to invite him to sleep with you for a few hours when he paused, his face worried. Fernando took one of your hands.
“This is a one time- thing, right?” He frowned, and you swallowed before nodding.
“Yes, of course.” You don’t correct him with memories of your eighteenth birthday.
“I just, I don’t want anything to ruin our friendship,” he stared at you, visibly scared for your friendship, and you didn’t have the heart to ask for more.
“It won’t ruin, I promise. If you want, we can forget it ever happened,” you said, hoping and praying he would change his mind. But he looked relieved at your words.
After he left, you sat down on the bed, disheartened, knowing that these scraps of affection would have to be stored in a safe spot inside your heart, and would be nothing more than memories, and what-ifs you’d only dare to look at late in your sleepless nights. You wondered how many times he would have to undervalue your romantic affections for you to understand he didn’t want you and never would. That was the second time you shared a moment, and the second time he had dismissed it. It’s not meant to be, you whispered to yourself.
When the new season started, you had gotten a grip over your feelings for him, focused on moving on. Being in love with your best friend for around a decade was pathetic enough.
Fernando was great during the start of the season, scoring two wins within the first three races. And despite not being the results you wanted, you placed top ten in all of them, even managing one podium finish.
When the fourth race came, though, it was when you and Fernando started to collapse. It was a very carefully plotted race for you and your team, and after managing your tyres with care, you didn’t have to pit twice. And you won, for the first time ever, you stood on the top of the podium. Unfortunately, Fernando didn’t get a podium. Holding your trophy, you looked down from the podium looking to your team, and searching for Fernando.
He wasn’t there, and your heart shattered a bit with his absence.
Maybe he had a problem and couldn’t be there for you. Maybe he was busy.
You went down to speak to the press, happily talking about strategies, how you and your team masterminded it, how you managed to preserve your tyres for longer than expected.
“How do you and Fernando manage to balance your friendship out of the track with the rivalry happening inside the track?” Someone asked. You were caught by surprise, taking a few seconds to actually compute the words he said.
“Well, I haven’t seen Fernando yet, but I believe he’d be happy for my good result as much as I’d be happy for him,” you told him, but immediately regretted it as the reporter had a gotcha expression on his face.
“Well, actually, this is what Fernando said a few minutes ago when he gave an interview-”
The man gave you a tape recorder attached to a pair of headphones, and your stomach filled with dread as he pressed rewind and play.
“Fernando, today’s win puts your best friend as a contender for the championship, what do you say?”
“Well, I believe she is talented, but too young and not yet ready to face me and actually compete for the championship.”
His voice was bitter, like he didn’t see you as nothing but a bug under his shoes. Instead of making you sad, it only left you seething in anger, but as you removed the headphones, you controlled the urge to smash the headphones on the nearest wall and smirked coldly to the camera that was waiting for your reaction.
“What do you think about Fernando saying you’re still not ready to become world champion?” The reporter urged, waiting for a beef that he would successfully get.
“Well, I guess he feels threatened by me, so I’ll take that as a compliment,” you shrugged, not caring about adding more fuel to the fire. If Fernando thought he could go running his mouth and you’d be fine or not jab him back, he was in for a surprise.
After wrapping up the interviews, you finally managed to go to your room and take a shower. You were getting ready to leave when Fernando found you again, walking into your room without bothering to knock. You didn’t even look at him, just kept packing your bag.
“Nena…”
“Don’t fucking talk to me,” you shook your head, holding on to the anger instead of allowing yourself to be sad. How he was able to ruin your first ever win in Formula 1, you couldn’t know.
“Nena, please, just-” He tried again, blocking your path to the door.
“No! Fuck you, Fernando!” You took a step back, letting your bag fall to the floor, an accusatory finger pointing to his face, “How dare you do this to me? You know how many times I cheered for you? How many times I wasn’t even on the podium and still, I was happy for you? Huh? I was there for you every step of the way, and you can’t be there for me once? Now you go out there and disregard my win in front of the whole world? What did I ever do to you for you to say that shit about me?” Your voice trembled, but you refused to cry in front of him, “I’d never do that to you, you selfish asshole.”
“I shouldn’t have said that, but I was pole and didn’t even manage to turn it into a podium? I was upset, the strategy fucked me up! I know I should not have said that! You’re right! I was selfish and an asshole-”
“Damn right you were!” You shouted, then picked up your bag, “I don’t want to see you right now.”
You walked past him, leaving at once.
That night, you went to celebrate with the team and without your teammate, you got pretty wasted, dancing and drinking like you had never done before. You refused to let yourself feel down because of Fernando’s big mouth. Dancing the night away, you didn’t stop even when people on the team asked you to, since you were getting out of hand. You were grinding on a stranger, dancing to reggaeton when you felt a hand on your arm.
“Let’s go,” the voice said and you turned, seeing Fernando in front of you. He looked like he was dressed in pajamas and hair all disheveled.
He was asleep when someone on the team called him because they wanted to leave and you were being difficult, so they hoped that your best friend could come pick you up and convince you to leave.
“Excuse me?!” You pulled your arm from him.
“We’re leaving!” Fernando said, pointing to where your team was, seeing it empty, “you’re not going to stay here alone.”
Begrudgingly, you let him lead you outside, one hand in your arm, and the other one on your back. You stumbled in your heels, and Fernando pressed you against the wall, kneeling to remove your shoes and help you walk better outside. Silently, he drove you back to the hotel, while you were with your arms crossed and sulking.
He walked you to your room, helping you change into pajamas, then tucked you into the bed. He stood there for a second, pushing your hair away from your face as you closed your eyes, letting his knuckles run over your cheek softly.
“I wish-” you mumbled, sleepy, “I wish you were happy for me.”
His eyes filled with tears, seeing just how awful he had been to you. A dream was coming true and all he could think of was himself.
“I am, Nena. I’m so happy for you,” He said, but you didn’t answer, already asleep, due to being tired from the race and heavily drunk.
You woke up with a pounding headache and a stomach churning hangover. Still, you showered, drank tea and got ready to go home. When Fernando knocked on the door of your hotel room later that day to apologize, you were already on a flight to Spain. Your birthday would be later that week and your family wanted to throw you a dinner party.
Your birthday was nice, despite obviously feeling Fernando’s absence.
You were sitting alone on the porch, after the party, when he showed up, late in the night. You didn’t say anything as he walked up to you.
“Peace offering?” Fernando showed you a small ice cream pint “I’m so sorry. I never meant to undermine you. I was a jerk, and you didn’t deserve any of it. I’m so, so sorry.”
You hesitated for a second, but his eyes were so gentle, remorseful, that you couldn’t help but give in. You jumped into his arms so suddenly he almost dropped the ice cream, but he managed to balance it and hug you back with the other arm.
“Happy birthday, Nena,” he whispered,
“Thank you,” you said, without letting him go, “I’m sorry too. I apologize for implying you felt threatened by me.”
“You should have called me worse things,” he whispered.
You ended up sharing the ice cream once again, talking about life.
Deep down, you hoped things would go back to normal, but a part of you knew that things would never be the same. You two were too much alike for anything to work. Too proud. Too stubborn. Too competitive. When you were good, it was great, but when you were mad, your words were daggers.
The both of you tried to stay normal the next couple of races, but it was strained, forced, especially when you were racing each other. You supposed Fernando was used to you backing down for him, since it was all you had done the year before when you were a rookie. But now you were used to the car, to explore all the possibilities while pushing your tyres to their maximum, while trying insane strategies and making it work. You were a risky driver, just like him, often seen as reckless.
All the while, the media started catching up to it. They went digging to find pictures of you and Fernando when you were kids, in karting and junior competitions, finding out people to interview, old classmates, people you two had met over the years, telling everyone about your close friendship, about you growing up together. Despite you both refusing to comment on your past, the journalists would always find a way to learn more and more about you.
Eventually, it got to your nerves, harsh words were often said whenever questions were thrown at you. You were in a press conference, where Fernando was also there along with a few other drivers.
“It is noticeable that you and Alonso’s driving style is very similar, would you say that he taught you everything you know?”
You didn’t like his tone, you hated whatever he was implying, not because of Fernando, but because it meant to reduce your efforts and abilities.
“No, Alonso has no part in my racing,” your tone was firm against the mic, and you could feel Fernando’s eyes on you, two chairs away on your left.
“But you grew up together?” The man insisted, and you loudly sighed, exhausted from everyone trying to make you talk about it all the time.
“And that doesn’t mean anything!” You said with gritted teeth.
There was a moment of silence right after your outburst, and you didn’t dare to look anywhere besides ahead. When the questions moved on to other drivers, you breathed again. Finally sparing a glance to Fernando, he only looked at you for a fleeting moment, but you knew him so well, you could recognize his teary eyes. Only then it dawned on you how badly you fucked up by insinuating he didn’t mean anything to you.
When the conference ended, you watched as Fernando left really quickly, not even looking in your direction. You ran, trying to find him, going to his room that was right beside yours.
“Fernando-” You walked inside, not even bothering to knock.
“So, our friendship means nothing!” He shook his head, looking disappointed.
“I didn’t mean it like that, Nano!”
“Now I’m Nano again?” He scoffed.
You wanted to cry and plead, to explain that you never meant it this way. You were just tired of people trying to attribute your success to others. You were tired of people comparing the two of you, and saying everything you were came from him, just because he joined the category five years before you.
“Fernando, please-”
“Leave.” His eyes were cold, almost detached when he pointed to the door.
“Please, Nano…” You whispered, feeling your own eyes welling up with tears. He just shook his head ‘no’ again.
You walked out quietly, not allowing your tears to fall down as you got into your room, inhaling and puffing your chest. You didn’t let up, trying to talk to him again, because it was just a misunderstanding.
Three days later, you tried to find him again, after the race ended, hoping he would have calmed down after a good result, a P2 in that race. You knocked on his door and entered. He was changing clothes as you walked in, he finished dressing a shirt.
“What?” He said, barely looking at you, as he sat down on the sofa, brushing his hair.
“I wanted to talk about what I said during-” your words were interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Come in!” Fernando said, and soon, two pretty girls walked in, wearing pretty dresses, one blonde and the other brunette, “pretty girls!”
You recognized they were grid girls, and they looked familiar from this weekend.
“Can we talk?” You said, trying to make him at least send the girls away for a moment.
“I’m listening,” he smirked, and you gulped as the blonde ran a hand up and down his chest. The brunette leaned into his ear with a seductive smile, whispering something.
“Fernando, please…” You asked again and he didn’t even look at you, laughing at something the girls whispered to him, “I’m sorry,” you whispered, before turning in your heels and leaving his room.
Shame and jealousy burned inside you.
He started giving you a silent treatment from then on and three races later, your silent strain came to a head, once again.
You were right behind him at the race, you P3 and him right ahead, but you had enough speed to outpace him soon, maybe a couple more laps and you’d equal him enough to try and overtake, you rode turn 2 smoothly, but as you two kept going, Fernando half a second in front of you, he suddenly hit the brakes, making you hit his rear.
“What the fuck? He brake tested me!” You shouted into the radio, reassessing, you gulped, noticing the damage to your front right tyre, “I’ve got damage!”
You called into the box to change your tyre, which fucked up your entire strategy, and made you go from the P3 to P9 in the grid. You managed to recover a little bit, but still ended P5 and out of the podium.
The rage was burning your chest as you went to the garage absolutely fuming. After all the podium proceedings and celebrations, you waited for Fernando, but he just walked past you without a care in the world. That made you even more pissed, and nobody managed to hold you when you tossed your helmet aside and marched up to him.
“That was really fucked up, Fernando!” You cut his path, making him stop short. Suddenly a bunch of people started gathering around you two, everyone ready for a show.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He shrugged, but you knew him like the palm of your own hand, and you knew that condescending smile he showed you.
“You are a fucking coward if you have to brake test me just to get a podium,” you said, venomous, feeling your dad trying to pull you away and dissipate the commotion. But you weren’t done, “you’re pathetic, Fernando.”
“That’s enough!” Your dad said, pulling you back.
“Or maybe you’re just not good enough, have you thought about that?” Fernando said back, and you jumped on him, trying to get close enough for violence, but your dad held your waist, removing your feet from the ground and pulling you back.
“Man up, Fernando! You fucking asshole!” You shouted as your dad dragged you back into the garage.
Your dad placed you inside your room, grabbing water so you could drink and calm down. When he turned back, a sob broke from your throat, and you covered your mouth with a hand, trying to muffle the sounds of your crying. You shook as you cried again, your dad hugging you close and murmuring to you to let it all out.
You never thought your friendship with Fernando would ever come to this. You weren’t even sure of how the buildup happened that led to this.
“I don’t recognize him anymore, Papá. I don’t recognize my best friend anymore,” you shook your head, your voice breaking in hiccups. You pressed the plant of your hand to your eyes to try and stop the tears falling down, but it was useless.
“It’s ok, bebé. You’re both hotheaded, you need to talk calmly, try and fix it.”
You didn’t try to talk to him. He was wrong when he brake tested you, and if he couldn’t apologize for that, and for the hurtful words he said, then it was better to stay that way.
It only got worse as the season went on, the team tried to force you to give him advantages, but you refused many times, making the competition for the World Drivers Championship be between the two of you.
“We need to talk,” Flavio called you a day after another one of your wins, one that Fernando placed third, one that he didn’t even look at your face when you were up there.
“What happened?” You sat down in front of him by the table.
“You have to follow team orders. When we say you have to switch places with Fernando, you switch. You are deliberately going against orders, what is going on? You and Fernando are now in a cold war, the media caught up, the other drivers caught up too, why-”
“Am I the only one getting lectured?” You crossed your arms, seeing Flavio getting red in the face, angry.
“No. I want answers from both of you, and the way you’re being aggressive with each other, we believe it’s better to talk to you separately,” Flavio sighed, “What is happening? Before it was interesting, a beautiful rivalry, but now you way past that. You’re harming your own races and the team.”
“You talk to Fernando. He thinks because I won’t back down he needs to use every dirty trick in the book to damage my race. If he can’t handle competition like an adult, then he shouldn’t be here.”
Suddenly, the door opened, which made you jump. Fernando walked inside, fuming.
“So that’s what you think of me?” He raised his voice.
“Yes, you have been acting like a fucking kid,” you stood up.
“Me? You told the whole world our friendship means nothing to you! Have you any idea how that made me feel?!” Fernando got closer.
“Do you know how many times people disdain my career to pin it to someone else? To attribute my successes to you, or to Flavio, or even my dad?! You’ve got no idea what it's like being a woman here!”
“Power got to your head! You think you have to walk all over everyone to get what you want!”
“Power?! Literally every man here does that! You do that too, Fernando!”
“Funny you say that since you wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for me!” He shouted, pointing a finger to the ground.
“Fernando, stop.” Flavio muttered, coming closer to where you were face to face with Fernando.
You frowned, your anger completely dissipated and what was left was dread. And a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach.
“What?” You hated how your voice was nothing more than a vulnerable whisper.
“Fernando, enough!” Flavio commanded out loud, gesturing with a hand.
“What do you mean, Fernando?!” You asked again, ignoring Flavio trying to pacify the fight.
“I was the one to ask Flavio to sponsor you. I asked him to take a shot and invest in your career!” Fernando’s words were poison and in his eyes you couldn’t see anything left of your former best friend.
“Is it true, Flavio?” You asked but your eyes never left Fernando’s.
“Yes, but if we calm down, we can talk like adults.”
You couldn’t even come up with words, speechless not only from what Fernando told you, but from the tone he used. It was like he had punched you straight in the gut. You couldn’t contain your tears anymore, the lump in your throat threatening to suffocate you. You wanted to jump on him, to push him to the ground and punch his face. You wanted to scream in his face and call him all the dirty names you could think of. You tried to hold onto the anger but your limbs were still, and the pain expanded inside you like wildfire. He had lied to you, in the biggest step of your career he had lied to you. Even when you pressed for answers, he lied straight to your face.
You stared into his eyes one last time. It was the first time he had seen you really cry. He had seen you teary eyed or even emotional before, but it was the first time he had seen you truly cry.
“You’re dead to me, Fernando.”
Was all you managed to rasp, fat tears streaming down your cheeks. Flavio called your name as you walked away, but you never looked back and didn’t stop until you were inside your car, wailing like a baby. You sobbed all the way back to the hotel. You cried as you packed your bags, and tried but failed to contain your tears all the way back home, until you were at your parents’ door, sobbing on their sofa.
They didn’t ask anything until a couple of hours later when you managed to stop crying.
“I hate Fernando, so much, Mamá,” you whispered.
“Honey, don’t say that. Don’t do or say something you might regret later on,” She told you. You shook your head.
“I’m done with him. Done.” You bit back a sob, “he was so cruel, you had to see it.”
“He’s your best friend, dear. I’m sure it will be alright later on.”
“You should’ve seen the hate in his eyes, I don’t know him anymore. That’s not my Nano.”
So, your racing career was a lie. You didn’t make it because of your talent or your efforts. You were in Formula 1 because of Fernando. That was the cruelest thing someone ever said to you, not only because he was mean in the way he said it, but because with a few words he diminished your entire career. And what could you come up with to contest? He was right. You would never be there without him.
You wanted to give up so badly at that moment. You wanted to stay home and never come back, but you knew you couldn’t, your sense of duty was loud and you had to make it work. You had to prove that you deserved your spot in Formula 1, that all of Flavio’s forced investment on you was worth it.
You had to prove to Fernando you were more than a friend he pitied, more than a charity case he took so he could throw it at your face later.
It was one of the hardest things to realize and accept, the fact that he wasn’t your friend anymore. Maybe he never was. Despite all the disagreements the past couple of years, and all the beautiful history you had before the pinnacle of motorsport, maybe he never saw you as a friend. You thought you’d never treat a friend the way he treated you.
So you had to prove Fernando wrong.
NOTE: If you want to be tagged on part 2, please let me know in the comments!
#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#formula 1#f1 fic#f1#formula one#fernando alonso x you#fernando alonso x reader#fernando alonso#brocedes#Spotify
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Through the Years || Aaron Hotchner
Summary: Request - Aaron Hotchner x reader, It will be like 2 moments in different years... like the first time little Jack is comfortable enough around reader to call her mom... and the other one teen Jack not taking her grounding while Aaron is away and screamimg at her something like "You are not my mom"... Read Rest Here
A/N: This was tough to write. But overall very sweet. We love a good teenage melton.
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader, Jack Hotchner x Stepmom Reader
Word Count: 2.8k
TW: Yelling, intentional hurt, Jack being mean lol
Year Six: Jack’s Question
The gentle hum of the air conditioner filled the cozy living room as you and Jack sat together on the couch, surrounded by an array of colorful crafting supplies scattered across the coffee table. Glue sticks, markers, and construction paper formed a creative mess as the two of you worked on a project together, a rare moment of tranquility in the chaotic life of an FBI agent's family.
As you guided Jack through the steps of creating a handmade card for his grandmother's birthday, you couldn't help but notice the way he looked up at you with a mixture of admiration and affection. His small hands moved with determination, mirroring your own movements as you carefully cut out paper hearts and glued them onto the card letting him guide how he wanted the card to turn out.
"Y/N?" Jack's voice broke through the soft hum of conversation, tentative and uncertain. He shifted back and forth on the couch letting whatever was on his mind eat away at him for the time being.
As Jack's voice broke through the soft hum of the television on, you turned your attention back to him. He looked so nervous that you could only put the supplies down and focus solely on him. "Yeah, Jack?" you replied, your voice soft and encouraging.
Jack shifted nervously beside you, his brow furrowing as he wrestled with his words. You could see the uncertainty flickering in his eyes, the weight of his question heavy on his young shoulders.
"Can I... can I call you Mom?" His voice was barely above a whisper, filled with hesitation and longing.
Your breath caught in your throat at his words, your heart soaring with joy and disbelief. It was a moment you had dreamed of, hoped for, but never dared to expect. Not so soon anyway. You and Aaron had been seeing each other for just over a year. And yet, here it was, unfolding before you in the most unexpected of moments.
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you gazed at Jack, overwhelmed by the depth of emotion welling up inside you. You wanted to gather him into your arms, to hold him close and never let him go, to shower him with all the love and affection he deserved. But you also knew that this moment was about him, about his courage in voicing his feelings, his desire to forge a deeper connection with you. And so, you swallowed past the lump in your throat, your smile widening with genuine warmth and love.
"Of course, you can, sweetheart," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. "I would be honored."
As the words left your lips, a weight seemed to lift from Jack's shoulders, his face breaking into a radiant smile that mirrored your own. In that moment, surrounded by the remnants of your crafting adventure, you felt a profound connection form between you, one that transcended blood ties and was forged by love and mutual respect.
Jack let out a sigh of relief, his smile widening as he leaned into your embrace. "Good, Daddy said I could," he explained, his voice filled with a mix of excitement and validation.
Your heart swelled with warmth at his words, grateful for Aaron's support and understanding. It meant the world to you that he had encouraged Jack to express his feelings, to embrace the bond that had grown between you. "Your daddy is a smart man," you replied, your voice tinged with affection as you ruffled Jack's hair affectionately. "And he's right. You can call me mom whenever you want. You can also call me Y/N. Whatever you want kiddo."
Jack beamed up at you, his eyes sparkling with happiness as he settled back into his seat, a sense of contentment settling over him like a comforting blanket. In that moment, it felt as though the world had shifted, the connection between you and Jack deepening with each passing second. And as you returned to your crafting project, your hearts overflowing with love and gratitude, you knew that this was just the beginning of a beautiful journey together.
Year Fifteen: Teenage Turmoil
The soft glow of the lamp illuminated Aaron Hotchner's cluttered desk as he typed away on his laptop, the faint clicking of keys the only sound in the otherwise quiet house. It was Friday night, the end of a long week, but for Aaron, the work was far from over. His eyes flickered to the clock, noting the late hour. Jack should have been home by now, safely tucked into bed. Anxiety gnawed at him as he tried Jack's number once more, only to be met with the unwelcome sound of voicemail. He would give it until 12:30 then he was going to be calling Penelope to locate his young son. He didn’t want to be overbearing but he couldn’t help it. Not with what he’s seen, what he’s had to deal with.
In the living room, you paced back and forth, your heart pounding with worry. Each passing minute felt like an eternity. With every unanswered call, your concern grew tenfold. The clock on the wall mocked you, its hands moving relentlessly towards midnight. You too knew how dangerous it was out there. But you couldn’t lock the kid in. He’d resent the both of you for the rest of his days if you did that.
Finally, the creak of the front door announced Jack's return. Relief flooded through you, quickly replaced by a surge of frustration as you caught sight of his nonchalant expression. "Jack, do you have any idea what time it is?" you exclaimed, unable to keep the edge from your voice.
Jack's eyes flickered to you, irritation flashing in their depths before he masked it with a careless shrug. "Relax, I lost track of time," he retorted, tossing his jacket aside without any regard for how stressed both you and his father were.
Your temper flared. "You were supposed to be home over an hour ago! Do you have any idea how worried we were?" As Aaron remained in his office, you and Jack were left to confront each other alone, the tension between you palpable.
He shrugged again before attempting to make a break for his room.
"Jack, please," you implored, your voice trembling with concern. "We need to talk about what happened tonight. It's not just about breaking curfew; it's about communication and respect."
Jack's eyes narrowed, his arms crossing defensively over his chest. "I don't need a lecture, Y/N. I'm not a kid anymore."
Your heart sank at his dismissive tone, but you refused to back down. "I know you're growing up, but that doesn't mean you can disregard the rules we've set. They're there for a reason, Jack. We worry about you when you're out late, especially when we can't reach you."
He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You worry too much. I can take care of myself."
Your frustration bubbled to the surface. Your voice tinged with emotion. "It's not just about taking care of yourself, Jack. There are awful people out there and…”
Jack's demeanor shifted, his expression hardening with defiance. "You're not my mom, Y/N. You don't get to tell me what to do."
His words cut deep, a pang of hurt flashing across your features. "I know I'm not your biological mother, but I love you like you're my own," you admitted, your voice wavering with emotion certainly not expecting the conversation to take such a turn so quickly.
Jack's jaw clenched, his anger simmering beneath the surface. "Yeah, right. You're just trying to control me like everyone else. Well, news flash, it's not gonna work."
Your heart shattered at his harsh words, the weight of his rejection crushing you. "I'm not trying to control you, Jack. I just want what's best for you," you pleaded, tears welling in your eyes despite your best efforts to push them away.
But Jack's frustration boiled over, his voice rising with each word. "Stop pretending like you know what's best for me! You're not my freaking mom! You can't tell me what to do!"
As Jack's explosive words hung in the air, a heavy silence descended upon the room, filling the space with tension and uncertainty. Your heart felt as though it had been squeezed tight in your chest, the sting of Jack's rejection still raw.
A gasp came from your mouth as you tried to form any sort of coherent sentence. "Oh, I'm... I..." you began, your voice faltering as you struggled to find the right words. But your mind was a whirlwind of emotions, and you found yourself at a loss.
Jack's eyes widened, a flicker of realization crossing his features as he took in the impact of his own words. For a moment, he seemed unsure, caught between his anger and the weight of what he had just said. And then, as if sensing the weight of the moment, Aaron appeared in the doorway. His expression a mix of concern and disappointment. His presence seemed to ground the room, his steady gaze sweeping over you and Jack.
"What's going on here?" Aaron's voice was calm but firm, his eyes never leaving yours. He saw the watery tears that threatened to spill over at any second. He heard the tail end of the conversation and knew exactly why you were so devastated. You saw Jack as your own child and for him to say something so deeply hurtful left you reeling.
You struggled to compose yourself, the turmoil of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. "Jack... he... I don’t… I need to go," you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. Without waiting for a response, you turned and fled towards the kitchen, unable to even look at your stepson or Aaron in that moment. You felt utterly embarrassed. Like you hadn’t been loving that child for the last ten years of his life. Did he really feel like that or was he just lashing out?
In the living room, Aaron's expression darkened, his jaw clenched with restrained anger as he watched you leave. The weight of Jack's hurtful words hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over their father-son relationship.
Jack shifted uncomfortably; his eyes fixed on the ground as guilt gnawed at him. "Dad, I didn't mean..."
But Aaron's patience had worn thin with his moody son. "Not now, Jack," he interrupted, his tone stern. "Right now, I need you to think about what you said and why it was completely unacceptable."
Jack swallowed hard, the gravity of his actions sinking in as he met his father's unwavering gaze. "I know, Dad. I messed up," he admitted, his voice tinged with remorse.
Aaron's frustration boiled over, his voice taking on the commanding tone he used when interrogating suspects. "You think you can just say whatever you want and there won't be consequences? You hurt her, Jack. You hurt someone who cares about you deeply, and I won't stand for it."
Jack's eyes widened, the full weight of his actions crashing down on him as he met his father's intense gaze. "I-I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't mean to..."
But Aaron cut him off with a sharp gesture. "Apologies won't cut it this time, Jack. You need to understand the gravity of your words and the impact they have on people." As Aaron continued to reprimand his son, he couldn't shake the worry gnawing at him. He knew he had to find you, to make sure you were alright. With a final stern look at Jack, he turned on his heel and headed towards the kitchen, his footsteps heavy with concern.
As he entered the kitchen, his heart sank at the sight before him. There you were, hunched over on the floor, your shoulders shaking with sobs. Without hesitation, Aaron crossed the room and knelt beside you, gathering you into his arms.
"Hey, hey, it's okay," he murmured softly, his voice a soothing balm against the storm raging within you. "You're alright, I've got you." Aaron felt a pang of anguish as he held you, his heart breaking at the depth of your pain. Gently, he lifted your chin, guiding your tear-filled eyes to meet his own.
"Honey," he whispered, his voice filled with tenderness. "Listen to me. You may not be Jack's biological mother, but you are his mom in every sense of the word."
You shook your head weakly, unable to comprehend his words through the haze of your despair. "But I-I..."
"No buts," Aaron interrupted, his tone firm but gentle. "Every day, in every action, every moment of love and care you've shown him, you've proven yourself to be his mother. You've been there for him, supported him, loved him unconditionally. That's what a mom does. That’s what you are, sweetheart.”
Tears welled in your eyes as his words washed over you, a glimmer of hope piercing through the darkness of your despair. "But Jack said..."
Aaron's expression softened, his thumb gently wiping away your tears. "Jack was angry and confused. He didn't mean what he said. And even if he did, it doesn't change the truth. You are his mother, my love, in every way that matters."
As his words sank in, a sense of warmth enveloped you, the weight of your anguish easing with each beat of your heart. In Aaron's arms, you found solace, reassurance, and a renewed sense of purpose. You leaned against Aaron's chest, letting the last of your tears fall, a sense of peace washed over you. His comforting presence wrapped you up in his warm embrace, grounding you in the certainty that together you’d be just fine. “Thank you.” You whispered as he held you in his embrace.
Aaron held you close, his hold on you a silent promise of unwavering support and love. "Anytime, honey," he murmured, his voice a soothing melody in the midst of chaos. "We'll get through this together."
Just then, the sound of footsteps echoed in the kitchen, and you looked up to see Jack standing in the doorway, tears glistening in his eyes. His expression was wrought with guilt and remorse as he hesitated, unsure of how to approach you.
"Y/N," he began, his voice choked with emotion. "I-I'm so sorry. I didn't mean what I said. I just wanted to hurt you, but I didn't mean it. I didn’t mean it at all, I promise. I need you! You are my mom! Please don't leave me." His words came out quickly as he wiped away his own tears.
Your heart shattered at Jack's raw confession, the depth of his pain washing over you like a tidal wave. Without hesitation, you opened your arms, inviting him into the embrace. Aaron backed off letting the situation between the two most important people in his life play out.
Jack rushed over and threw his larger frame right into your arms You wrapped him up tightly as he let his own cries out. The weight of his own words crashing down on him in the instant he saw how much he had hurt you. He was just a kid, of course you could forgive him. "It's okay, Jack," you whispered, your voice breaking with emotion. "I know you didn't mean it. I love you so much. I'm not going anywhere."
“I can’t lose you too.” He let out a whimpered cry breaking your heart even further.
Tears streamed down your own cheeks as you held Jack close, the weight of his words settling over you. "You’ll never lose me, Jackie," you reassured him, using his old nickname, a sign of the deep love you two shared for each other. "I'm here for you, always. Always and forever kiddo."
Jack's sobs began to subside as he clung to you, finding exactly what he needed in your embrace. "I love you. I’m so sorry." he whispered again. His voice filled with sincerity.
A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you gently pulled away to look into his eyes. "I love you too, Jack. It’s okay. I forgive you." You said again, reassuring him.
He nodded, relief flooding his features as he buried his face in your arms once more, the weight of guilt slowly lifting from his shoulders. "You are one of the best things that's ever happened to me," you continued, your voice filled with warmth and affection. "Other than your father," you added with a playful grin, feeling Jack's chuckle rumble against your side. He gave you one more squeeze before pulling away. The remorse still heavy on his face. Carefully, you brushed the stray tears away from his face showing him the love that the both of you needed.
As Aaron joined you both in the kitchen, his presence a reassuring anchor, you shared a smile, knowing that no matter what life threw your way, you would be okay. For truly these two were the best things that had ever happened to you.
Aaron Hotchner/Criminal Minds: Permanent Taglist (If you'd like to be added to any or all works please fill out the form here: (Taglist Sign Up) @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @daily-evanstan @hardballoonlove @14buddy22 @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @mrs-ssa-hotch @panandinpain0 @viscade @kreepja @il0vebeingdelulu @hiireadstuff @kajjaka @guacam011y
Request Taglist: @fictionallifestuff
#aaron hotchner one shot#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotch hotchner#aaron hotchner fic#ssa aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner x female reader#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner hurt/comfort#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner oneshot#aaron hotchner angst#aaron hotchner au#jack hotchner#x female reader#fem reader#reader insert#x reader#criminal minds x you#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds x y/n#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds fandom#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds aaron hotch#criminal minds
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PR disaster p.2
Hey guyss, since you liked part 1 and I love Franco I decided to do part 2. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do and if you want to read more of my stories here's my masterlist :)
Y/N stood in front of her bathroom mirror, staring at her reflection as she tugged nervously at the hem of her dress. Why on earth was she nervous? This was just a deal—a professional arrangement. She had agreed to go on this ridiculous date with Franco purely to keep him in check. There was no reason for her stomach to be doing flips or for her hands to be fidgeting like she was a teenager going on her first date.
“Get it together,” she muttered to herself, giving her reflection one last once-over.
Her dress was simple but elegant, a deep blue that she usually wore to events where she needed to look put together. Neutral. Not too flirty, not too casual. And yet, as she looked at herself, she couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe—just maybe—she had spent a little extra time getting ready.
She shook her head, rolling her eyes at her own ridiculousness. "It’s just Franco," she whispered, trying to remind herself who this date was with. That thought should’ve made her relax, but instead, it only made her heart race faster.
Just then, the sound of a knock at her door pulled her out of her thoughts. She took a deep breath, smoothing down her dress once more before heading to answer.
When she opened the door, there stood Franco, leaning casually against the frame with his signature grin firmly in place. His dark curls were styled perfectly, and his shirt—though slightly unbuttoned at the collar—looked annoyingly well put together. He always managed to toe the line between effortless and way too charming.
Franco’s eyes flicked over her outfit, and for a moment, something softer passed across his expression. "Wow," he murmured, his voice lower than usual. "Te ves… increíble, jefa." (You look … incredible, boss)
Y/N felt the warmth rush to her cheeks before she could stop it. “It’s just a dress,” she said, trying to keep her voice as neutral as possible. “And stop calling me ‘jefa.’ We’re off duty.”
Franco’s grin returned in full force, and he leaned in slightly. "Oh, perdón. ¿Debería llamarte hermosa entonces?" (Oh, sorry. ¿Should I call you beautiful instead?)
She blinked, trying to decipher what he had just said before waving a hand dismissively. “Let’s just get this over with.”
Franco chuckled softly, stepping aside and offering his arm with an exaggerated flourish. "As you wish, hermosa." (Beautiful)
She ignored the Spanish this time and brushed past him, pretending not to notice how nice his cologne smelled as they headed out.
The restaurant Franco had chosen was a small, cosy spot in the heart of the city. It was intimate without being too romantic—just a perfect balance. Y/N had to give him credit; she had expected something flashy or over-the-top, but this was… nice.
Throughout dinner, Franco was, unsurprisingly, his usual self. He flirted relentlessly, slipping in compliments in both English and Spanish, leaving Y/N constantly on edge trying to figure out what he was saying. But as much as she tried to keep her usual grumpy exterior, she found herself laughing more than she’d care to admit.
“So,” Franco said, leaning forward, a playful glint in his eyes. “Are you having fun yet, or are you still counting the minutes until this is over?”
Y/N rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her wine to hide the smile she couldn’t quite suppress. “It’s… tolerable.”
“Tolerable?” he repeated, feigning offense. “Y/N, you wound me. I was hoping for at least ‘moderately enjoyable.’”
She let out a small laugh despite herself, shaking her head. “Fine. Maybe it’s a little fun.”
Franco grinned, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied look. “See? I told you I could be charming.”
“Charming isn’t the word I’d use,” she shot back, though there was no real bite behind her words.
They continued talking, their banter flowing effortlessly between them. Despite Y/N’s initial hesitation, she realized she was actually enjoying herself. Franco, as annoying as he could be, was surprisingly easy to talk to when he wasn’t causing PR disasters.
The evening went by faster than she expected, and by the time they left the restaurant, she couldn’t deny that Franco had managed to wear down her defenses. They walked side by side down the quiet street, the night air cool and refreshing after the warmth of the restaurant.
“You know,” Franco began, his tone a little softer now, “I didn’t just ask you out to make a deal.”
Y/N glanced up at him, brow furrowing. “What do you mean?”
He stopped walking, turning to face her fully. His usual playful grin was gone, replaced by a sincerity she hadn’t seen before. "I asked you out because… I like you, Y/N. Even when you’re all grumpy and serious, you’re…" He paused, searching for the right words. "Eres increíble. You’re smart, tough, and you don’t let me get away with anything. I like that." (You are incredible)
Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out.
Franco took a step closer, his eyes locked on hers. "No tienes idea de cuánto me gustas." (You have no idea how much I like you)
This time, Y/N didn’t need a translation. She understood perfectly, and for the first time, she didn’t push him away.
Franco’s hand reached up, gently brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch soft and lingering. "Tell me to stop," he whispered, his voice barely audible.
But Y/N didn’t want him to stop. Instead, she found herself leaning in, her heart pounding in her chest as her eyes fluttered closed.
And then, Franco’s lips met hers.
The kiss was soft at first, hesitant, as if he was waiting to see if she’d pull away. But when she didn’t, Franco deepened it, his hand slipping to the small of her back, pulling her closer. Y/N’s arms wrapped around his neck, her earlier grumpiness melting away as she let herself get lost in the moment.
When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless. Franco smiled down at her, his forehead resting against hers.
"So," he murmured, still slightly out of breath, "I think this date went pretty well, ¿no?"
Y/N couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking her head in disbelief. “You’re impossible.”
Franco grinned, pressing another quick kiss to her lips. "But you like me anyway."
And, much to her own surprise, Y/N realized he was right. She did.
#f1#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1#f2#franco colapinto x you#franco colapinto fanfic#franco colapinto imagine#franco colapinto x reader#franco colapinto
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No Man's Land |4|
Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader
Summary: Sam can’t help but be drawn to the cute stranger from her gym, even if everything about them makes them the perfect suspect, just when Ghostface has returned.
Warnings: None
Word Count: 2.3k+
Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15
Sam crossed her legs, trying to stop the bouncing of her foot, but it was no use. She just as quickly uncrossed them, so her foot was bouncing on the ground again. Her fists were clenched together, and her eyes hadn’t left the stained tile floor of the hospital waiting room. She tried focusing on the stain, silently debating if the brownish color was coffee or blood. She had been sitting in the waiting room since they brought you in, she wasn’t sure how long it had been.
“What were you thinking!” Tara’s voice came, making Sam’s head snap up. “A note!” She held up the little sticky note that Sam and written. “Went to gym, be back soon,” Tara read the note Sam had written, crumpling it up after she finished.
“I didn’t want you to worry,” Sam tried to defend.
“Then a text!” Tara threw her arms in the air. “Ghostface attacked,” Tara held up her phone, reading the quick text Sam had sent. “Headed to hospital.” Tara aggressively dropped her phone back down at her side. “What the fuck! I thought we were supposed to be staying safe! And together!”
“Yeah,” Chad said, flopping down into the seat beside her. “Running off alone in the middle of the night is the opposite of that,” Chad gave her what she could only describe as a big brother look.
Sam could only roll her eyes. “I just needed to clear my head,” Sam sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“What happened?” Mindy asked, taking the seat across from her. Tara continued to stare down at Sam, shaking her head and her arms crossed. It wasn’t often Sam was on the other end of that look. Sam was usually the one giving that look to Tara and occasionally the twins. She was beginning to understand what Tara meant every time she talked about Sam hovering and being overprotective.
“Y/N was attacked.”
“What?” Tara asked with a furrowed brow.
“Oh no,” Chad whispered, bringing a hand to his heart. Sam scrunched her eyebrows, Chad seemed to have gotten really attached to you after just one conversation, she wondered what the two of you could have possibly talked about.
“They saved my life,” Sam continued. “I was down, and they came out of nowhere.”
Mindy furrowed her brow, crossing her arms as she leaned back further in her chair. “Why were they there?” she questioned.
Sam could only shrug. “Sometimes they like to work out late.” Sam had been surprised to see you, not just because you jumped in to save her life without a second thought but because she didn’t think anyone else was in the gym at the time, there had been no vehicles in the parking lot. Mindy only let out a hum at her response though.
“What?” Chad questioned.
Mindy looked at everyone but kept flicking a glance at Sam. Sam raised an eyebrow as she waited to hear whatever Mindy had to say. “Don’t you think it’s suspicious?” Mindy questioned. “This mysterious person Sam likes suddenly shows up the same time as Ghostface?” Everyone sucked in a breath as they took in what Mindy was saying. “It can’t be a coincidence.”
Sam frowned; she didn’t necessarily disagree with Mindy as much as she hated to admit it. It was oddly coincidental that you of all people showed up just the moment Sam needed you. For all they knew this was all a ploy to get them to drop their guard down around you, to let you in and then you’d help whoever Ghostface was take them down.
“Looks like we’re about to find out,” Tara mumbled.
Sam looked up to see the doctor walking towards them. She was instantly on her feet to meet the doctor when he got to their side. “Your friend is in room 582, they are clear, and you are free to take them home,” the doctor said.
“Thank you,” Sam said, giving a grateful smile to the man.
They all made their way to your room. When they got there Sam saw the door was ajar. “Wait here,” she whispered to the others. Tara frowned but Sam didn’t wait for Tara to argue back before she pushed the door open and stepped into the room.
Sam froze in the doorway when she saw you. You were standing by the bed, pulling down your shirt. Her eyes widened at the exposed skin she saw before it got covered by your shirt. There were several scars on your back, your side, and front, your body seemed to be littered with them. Several of them were knife wounds, Sam could recognize them instantly, she had some of her own after all. There were others she didn’t recognize but looked eerily similar to bullet wounds, but she had only seen those a handful of times before.
Her eyes couldn’t help but linger on the fresh stab wound, newly stitched up. It was a large wound, just under your ribs. Sam sucked in a breath, it was her fault you had a new wound, that you were stabbed. Just a little higher and you could have died, Sam could have been the reason you died.
Before Sam could say anything, she was pushed further into the room as the others piled in behind her. You whipped around when you heard them all stumbling in. “Guess patient confidentiality isn’t a thing anymore,” you mumbled. You sat down on the edge of the hospital bed as you looked at Sam and the others.
“We’re sorry,” Sam said. “We just-”
“Why were you at the gym?” Mindy asked, cutting Sam off. Sam suppressed a sigh, if they wanted to get answers from you, jumping right into questioning was probably not the best idea.
You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes at Mindy. “To work out,” you said. “That’s what one tends to do at the gym.”
“After midnight?” Mindy crossed her arms.
“Less likely to be disturbed,” you shrugged. You were answering their questions but giving them nothing, Sam couldn’t blame you for being so guarded.
“So, right place right time?”
“Not exactly the way I’d describe it.” You stared at Mindy, but your face gave away no emotion. “Considering I was stabbed.”
Mindy let out something between a hum and a scoff. “How convenient.”
“If you have something to say,” you said calmly. “Say it.” Sam wasn’t sure how you could remain so calm when you were being questioned by people you didn’t even know.
“Why’d you do it? Why risk your life for someone you don’t even know?”
“So, just because I don’t know Sam means I should let her die?”
Sam started to nod, seeing your logic when she froze. Her head, along with the others, all snapped up towards you. “How did you know her name?”
You rolled your eyes and looked at the group. Sam furrowed her brow as she realized you weren’t looking at all of them but one of them specifically. She heard someone let out a hiss and turned around to see Chad with a guilty look. “Yeah,” he said, holding up a hand. “It came up in our conversation.”
Sam glared at Chad. She knew he got your name, but she hadn’t imagined he gave you, her name. He had somehow neglected to mention that little fact when he was telling everyone about his very short time getting to know you.
“Whatever,” Mindy said, waving it off. “Do you make it a habit of throwing yourself into danger?”
“I make it a habit of not turning my back when someone needs help,” you said simply.
“Guys,” Sam finally spoke up. “Give us a minute.” She nodded towards the door. Mindy looked at her, clearly wanting to question you more but Chad grabbed her and led her out of the room, followed by Tara.
“I’m sorry,” Sam whispered. “You were just stabbed, the last thing you need is a bunch of people questioning you.”
You just shrugged; it was like none of this phased you. “You were attacked,” you said. “Of course they’d be suspicious.”
Sam nodded, you were taking everything very well, though you had yet to question them, had yet to demand answers. You hadn’t even asked why a masked psycho was trying to kill Sam. She wasn’t sure if you were that uninterested or if it was because you already knew the answer.
You stood up from the bed, barely wincing as you did so. Sam saw you eye your jacket that was next to her, she grabbed it and held it out to you. You silently reached out, taking the jacket from her. You shrugged on the jacket and moved towards the door, stopping next to Sam. “Thanks,” you whispered softly.
“You got stabbed saving me,” Sam whispered back. “I’m pretty sure I should be thanking you.” You just shrugged and pushed past Sam out the door.
Sam barely had time to process what she was doing before she followed after you. She wasn’t fully sure why, maybe it was because you saved her life, but she wanted to keep you close. It wasn’t just because she liked you, she felt responsible now, you were caught up in her mess whether you realized it or not. Even if the two of you had never talked until a few minutes ago she knew Ghostface wouldn’t just let you go, you were a target now.
“Wait!” Sam called, running to catch up with you, assuming the others would be trailing behind. “We aren’t done yet.”
You lightly chuckled to yourself and gave a little shake of your head. “I am,” you said without even bothering to turn around.
Sam suppressed a groan; she should have known you would be incredibly difficult. The two of you had talked for only a few minutes but you had told them nothing. Sam couldn’t say she was surprised you were a person of few words. You barely spoke to people at the gym, it didn’t seem like you talked much to your friends either, it wasn’t a surprise you didn’t want to talk to Sam, she is the reason you got stabbed after all.
“Gale Weathers,” Sam heard a voice she knew all too well say. “Channel Four.” Sam slowed down when she saw you come to a stop. She came around your side to see Gale standing in front of you, blocking your path to the front door. “Care to answer some questions about surviving a Ghostface attack?” Gale held her microphone out towards you.
You looked down at the microphone and back up at Gale. Sam held here breath as she waited to see what you would say or do. “No,” you said and walked right past Gale.
Sam couldn’t help but smirk at the way Gale opened and closed her mouth. She slowly brought the microphone back towards herself and flipped the switch to turn it off. “You just don’t know when to quit, do you?” Sam asked, masking her face again.
Gale rolled her eyes and stepped closer to Sam. “I’m just following the story,” Gale said with a shrug.
Sam just scoffed; it was such a typical Gale Weathers response. She opened her mouth to say something back but stopped when she saw detective Bailey walking through the doors. She furrowed her brow and stepped past Gale, making Gale follow her gaze.
“Y/N Y/LN,” Bailey said, raising his hand to stop you in your tracks. Once again you looked down, this time at Bailey’s hand in front of you. When you looked back up at Bailey you seemed even more annoyed than when Gale had stopped you. “Mind if we have a few words?”
“Yes,” you replied with your one-word response again.
Sam couldn’t blame you for being annoyed. She could only imagine what you were going through, it was late, you were stabbed, then Sam and her friends interrogated you, then Gale stopped you, and now Bailey was stopping you. Sam assumed you only wanted to go home, probably just wanted to rest in an actual bed.
You moved to walk past Bailey when he grabbed your arm and held you in place. You glanced to the side, looking down at Bailey’s hand on you. “I’m going to need you to come down to the station,” Bailey said. “I’m not asking.”
Sam saw the way your jaw clenched but you didn’t say anything more, you just nodded. Bailey kept his hand on your arm as he led you out the front of the hospital. Sam and Gale followed behind watching him put you in the back of his police car.
“You really know how to pick ’em,” Gale mumbled.
Sam shot her a glare. She turned around to see Tara and the twins standing there. Sam rubbed her eyes, her plan worked, she was officially tired. “Go back to the apartment,” Sam said.
“What about you?” Tara asked, stepping forward. Sam sighed and looked back to where she could see Bailey’s car still making its way down the street. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
Sam turned back to her sister. “I’m the reason they’re in this mess.”
“Then I’m going with you.”
“No-”
“It’s not up for discussion.” Tara crossed her arms.
“Fine,” Sam rolled her eyes.
Tara tossed her keys to Mindy and Chad, telling them to go back to the apartment and wait for them. They all agreed to keep each other updated and text each other regularly so they all knew each other was okay. Then Sam and Tara flagged down a cab and made their way to the police station. She didn’t have a plan, but she was beating herself up, if it wasn’t for her, you wouldn’t have been stabbed and you wouldn’t be on your way to be questioned right now.
Taglist: @thatshyboy1998 @artrizzler19 @btay3115
#sam carpenter#sam carpenter x reader#sam carpenter x you#sam carpenter x fem!reader#sam carpenter imagine#samantha carpenter#samantha carpenter x reader#melissa barrera#scream#scream vi#scream 6#no man's land
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Best Friend's Mom Part Four
MILF!Wanda Maximoff x college age!fem!reader (Billy and Tommy's best friend)
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Word count: 5.5k
CW: Age gap (legal), best friends' mom, MILF!Wanda, fluff, mentions of food, angst, smut, cursing
Summary: You've finally confessed your feelings to Wanda. Will she reciprocate them? If so, what happens next? And what'll happen if she rejects you? Anything could happen.
A/n: Fourth and FINAL part is here! (I lowkey wrote most of this today so I hope it's good lol!) Anywho, I'd just like to thank y'all for loving this story as much as I have. And, if you're sad that it's over, never fear! Because of all your love and support, I've decided to do something special that you can check out here. Happy reading!
“Well, do you?”
The question hangs in the air between you and time has completely stopped. You hold your breath and your heart beats so rapidly in your chest that you’re certain Wanda can hear it.
Your instincts tell you to run, to avoid what you fear most.
Rejection.
But for once, you’re brave. You stay put and hold eye contact with Wanda. It’s her that breaks first.
“My simple answer is yes.”
All of the air rushes back into your lungs and you dispel a long sigh of relief.
“But,” she adds, “I’m hesitant to say anything else because we both know that nothing about this situation is simple.”
You nod, and this time your sigh is a little more dejected.
“Yeah, I know.”
You pull your knees up to your chest and wrap your arms around your legs, “It sucks. This whole situation is shitty. If only you weren’t my best friends’ mom, and I wasn’t in college, and we didn’t have to hide.”
The silence is thick, weighty with the words left unsaid- the words that neither of you want to vocalize. To vocalize them would be to admit to reality, and the small glimmer of hope still left would be shattered. To put it all into words would also force you to call this thing between you and Wanda what it is- a fling. A word that, right now, disgusts you to your core. A fling- the concept and word itself so casual when nothing about what’s happened between you two has been casual at all. You and Wanda had not casually fucked, casually cuddled, or casually made out. In every interaction with Wanda, there was always something deeper simmering just below the surface. There was an understanding of each other’s lives and struggles, tenderness, only found in a familiarity by association, and a deep love for each other, not even in the romantic sense, though you guess a hint of that existed as well, but in a sense of gratitude. Your shared compassion for the twins, and the undoubted affect you’d each had on them brought you two together in an indescribable way. Though you hadn’t known it yet, you and Wanda’s souls had been intertwined by destiny, forever attached by the two who brought you together in the first place.
Therefore, to treat this connection between you two as so much less than it deserves makes you not just just angry or sad but bitter. Nothing about it is fair. You deserve more, sure, but it’s Wanda that deserves everything good. After all that she’s been through, she’s maintained a heart of gold, and your heart aches to know the pain she’s being put through yet again.
But you can’t hide forever, and Wanda finally admits what you can’t. Won’t.
“I think,” Wanda says, hesitating, “that we have to accept that this is as good as it gets.”
It stings, Wanda’s confession, the truth smacking you square in the face. Housed within these walls is a beautiful utopia that you and Wanda have escaped to. It’s been sweet, and raw, and vulnerable, and now it’s all crumbling down. In no world would you and Wanda ever have been able to be together in the way you both wanted. There were the boys to think of, and your future, and the life Wanda had created for herself. Neither of you wanted to risk the happiness of the other for a potential shared happiness.
“I’m afraid that if we tried to continue what we have going now, everything would fall apart, and I’d come to resent you. And I don’t want that, Detka. For me, or you, or Billy and Tommy,” Wanda adds softly, “So let’s just enjoy this while we have it, and make the most of our time left.”
Tears sting your eyes and so much pressure has built in your throat that you can’t speak. You only nod at Wanda and her gaze, somehow, softens even more.
“Baby,” she whispers hoarsely. In seconds she’s pulled you into her arms, wrapping you so tightly in her warm embrace that you couldn’t move even if you wanted to. You nuzzle your face into her neck and try to take deep breaths, hoping that her scent will calm the raging storm in your head. She rocks the two of you back and forth slowly, and you can’t tell if it’s more for her or for you.
“Wanda,” you call out, and your voice cracks pitifully.
“Shhh, don’t” the redhead answers, her voice similarly thick with emotion.
You bury your hands in her shirt and grip it tightly, trying to hold on to something when everything else around you is slipping away. Despite your best efforts, you can’t stop the sob that racks your body.
Wanda doesn’t say anything, she just presses a tender kiss to your head. And when you feel a few teardrops fall onto your hair, you don’t mention it.
“I know it’d be hard, but what do you think about pretending, for just a little longer? I mean, we’ve been doing it this long, so what’s one more day?” she murmurs into your hair.
You pull away a little, craning your neck up towards Wanda with wide, tear-brimmed eyes, “Yeah, yes. Please. I’d really like that.”
She smiles fondly at you, “Good. Now let’s wipe away these tears.”
She ever so gently untangles an arm from around you and thumbs away the residual wetness on your cheeks, “There we go, all better.”
Her hand traces down your cheek and cups your jaw. She pulls you in and places a tender kiss to your lips. It’s sweet and tastes a little of the salty tears you’d both just shed. Instead of the hot spark that usually shoots through your body when you kiss Wanda, an overall warmth spreads through your body from your head all the way down to your toes. It makes your stomach ache, not with sadness but rather an all consuming happiness. You’re sure that any moment you’ll burst into a kaleidoscope of butterflies.
*****
The last day and a half of your spring break trip is bittersweet. Though you try to stay present, any time Wanda is around you can’t help but think about how each interaction with her may be your last- your last kiss, your last secret glance, or your last inside joke. To know that the end of something is coming before it ever actually happens is maddening, and you swear that you can hear a clock slowly ticking down to zero as each minute passes. Around the boys especially you don a mask of joviality even though internally you’re floundering. As you go about your day there’s a perpetual ache in your chest and a lump that never seems to leave your throat.
Maybe it’s because you’re desperate to slow down, or maybe it’s because you’re so caught up in your head that it passes quickly, but before you know it, time has slipped through your fingers and it’s already Friday evening. It’s late, and the boys are off in their room packing their bags. Desperate to hold on to the last little bit of your trip left, you decide to leave the packing for tomorrow morning and instead lay on the couch listlessly scrolling through channels on tv. You can’t help wondering where Wanda has wandered off to, but you know that if you go looking for her, you’ll only end up in a puddle of tears.
At some point in your scrolling you end up on an old sitcom- The Dick Van Dyke Show. You’ve never really watched it before, but something about it instantly catches your attention. The simplicity and domesticity of it all soothes you and your brain finally begins to quiet down.
“Did you know that was my favorite show as a kid?”
You look up at Wanda in her long gray tee shirt and leggings, hair pulled back into a low pony, “Really?”
She joins you, sitting on the arm of the couch, “Mhmm. When things would get bad back home in Sokovia, my mom and dad would always put on old sitcom tapes to distract my brother and I. I liked all the ones they showed me, but The Dick Van Dyke Show was always my favorite. Still is.”
A warm smile graces Wanda’s pretty features as she reminisces to you about her childhood and your heart feels so full that she’s chosen to share parts of herself with you.
“I’ve actually never seen it,” you say, “but I just came across it now, and I instantly felt…”
“Calmer?”
“Mhmm.”
You both silently watch the show for a few minutes, and though you’re tempted, you don’t once glance at Wanda. It’s a true demonstration of your willpower because Wanda is so, so tempting. You desperately wish to pull her closer, to hold her, touch her, and kiss her. But if you let yourself give in, you’re not sure you’ll be able to stop. Being around Wanda is addicting and you long to taste her over and over again, to get drunk on her, even if you’re bound to waste away after.
You’re so lost in your own head that you don’t notice Wanda slowly slipping off the arm of the couch onto the seat next to you. It’s only when she basically crawls into your lap that you look away from the tv, startled. She’s on her knees, legs tucked beneath her, and she rests her hands on your thighs. Her face is so incredibly close to yours that with even the slightest movement, your lips would touch.
Her green eyes search yours intently, “Detka, I was thinking…”
She pauses, and you can’t help but quickly peck her lips to encourage her to keep talking. The embarrassed smile that forms on her face also makes you scream internally.
“I’d really like to take you out on a date, baby. Just one. Before everything… ends.”
You squeal quietly and jump onto her, knocking her backwards onto the couch. You pepper kisses all over her face and she grabs your hips, giggling quietly.
“I’ll take that as a yes?”
“Oh my god Wanda, duh!”
And then more quietly and seriously you say, “I’d really, really like that.”
A hand moves from your waist to the back of your head and she guides you to her lips, kissing you sweetly. You suck gently on her bottom lip and try to ingrain into your mind the pretty little sighs she releases. When you pull away, you watch as her long eyelashes flutter open and admire the soft look in her green eyes.
She squeezes your side playfully, “let’s go Detka, we have a date to go on.”
You sit back on your heels to give Wanda room to sit up, “where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise. Now go get your shoes.”
You obey her immediately, plopping down onto the hardwood and slipping on your tennis shoes. When you’re ready to go, she grabs her keys off the kitchen table and quietly ushers you out to her small black sedan. You’ve yet to ride in Wanda’s car, the boys usually driving, and it’s nice. With black leather seats and wood trimming, you feel like you’re living in luxury. The car, somehow, smells like her too, and you feel blissfully pampered and mindless strapped into the passenger seat of her car.
She starts the car and rolls down the windows. You pull out of the driveway and speed off down the coastal highway, the radio softly playing in the background. The air is warm, but the wind is cool on your skin and you can smell the salt in the air. Your hair whips around wildly in the breeze, and you know that it’ll look a mess the rest of the night, but you can’t find it in you to care. Though you still have no idea where Wanda is taking you, by the direction you’re going you can at least guess that it’ll be somewhere in town.
While you’d be happy to go anywhere with Wanda, you’re extra thrilled when she pulls up to the local ice cream shop. Your sweet tooth aches with excitement and you quickly unbuckle your seatbelt. You go to open your door but Wanda reaches out to stop you, “Wait! I wanna get it for you.”
Heat rises to your cheeks and you’re so awestruck by how sweet and wonderful she is. She hops out of the car and comes around to your side, opening the door for you. When you climb out you give her a peck on the cheek, “what a lady you are, Wanda. I guess chivalry isn’t dead.”
The redhead wraps her arm around your waist and tucks you into her side. It’s the most public you two have ever been and the thrill secretly excites you.
She presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, “You deserve only the best, Detka. I hope you always know that.”
She’s being too sweet to you, and it’s making you all shy, so you tuck your head further into her side to hide your face. She chuckles lightly and squeezes your waist, guiding you two over to the counter to order.
Wanda orders two scoops of strawberry ice cream in a cup and you do the same, though with chocolate ice cream. All of the seating at the shop is outdoors, so you two find a table off to the side in a secluded corner. You cuddle up on one bench, legs tangled together and shoulders touching. The treat is sweet on your tongue and you moan softly at the taste.
“Good?” Wanda asks in between bites of her own ice cream.
You nod, “Very. Yours?”
She scoops a bit of the ice cream onto her spoon and lifts it towards you, “try?”
You eagerly accept her invitation and wrap your lips around the spoon. It’s tangier than your chocolate, but still good. You swirl it around your tongue, savoring the flavor as Wanda watches you with curious eyes.
“Mhmm, I like that too. Still prefer mine though,” you say with a small smile.
“Well good, because you’re not getting any more of mine anyways,” the redhead answers with a wink.
You roll your eyes teasingly and happily take another bite of your own ice cream.
“Oh, wait? Do you want to try mine?”
Before you can offer Wanda a spoonful of the chocolate, she reaches out and swipes her thumb across your lips. When she pulls away there’s a little chocolate on her skin and she slowly sucks it off, “Mhmm, tastes good, baby.”
This alone causes your brain to turn to mush and so you just stare at her, lips slightly parted and cheeks flushed.
Wanda doesn’t attempt to hide her smirk at your dumbfounded expression, “love when you get all dazed and pretty like this, Detka.”
Your gaze drops to your ice cream and you mumble about how she’s a tease.
She lifts your chin so that you look at her again, “You know you love it.”
“Not when we’re in public!”
Wanda hesitates for a moment, the wheels in her brain turning, before she asks, “wanna go make strawberry-chocolate ice cream in the car?”
*****
You're outside the door to the house and you and Wanda are giggling like schoolgirls as she fumbles with the keys.
“Shhh, Wanda, be careful. We don’t want to get caught!”
“Sorry, I just can’t get my hands to work,” she answers, giggling again.
You grab her hands and still them, looking at her gently, “here, let me do it.”
You take the keys from her and easily insert it into the lock. It clicks open softly and you motion for Wanda to go inside first, you following close behind her. Wanda stands by the door slipping off her shoes and grabs your shoulder as she nearly falls over. You grab her waist, steadying her, “careful, love.”
She smiles at you sheepishly while she casts her other shoe aside and you take a moment to admire her windblown cheeks and messy hair. You brush a strand behind her ear and her eyes flutter close at your touch.
“What the hell are you two doing?”
You and Wanda freeze, and a rock settles in your stomach. When you turn around, there stands Billy and Tommy in the living room, mixed expressions of confusion, anger, disbelief and betrayal written all over their faces.
“Guys, it’s-” you begin, your voice shaking.
“Not what it looks like?” Billy scoffs, “because it looks like you can’t keep your hands off my mom.”
“Billy, wait,”
“Tell us what the fuck is going on right now,” Tommy interrupts.
You barely spare Wanda a glance as you make your way into the living room. She hesitantly follows behind you.
“Uhm me and Wan- your mom- we’ve been…”
What are you supposed to call this thing you and Wanda have been doing?
“Seeing each other,” she finishes.
Billy eyes you two’s disheveled appearances with disgust, “seems more like you’ve been fucking each other!”
“Billy!” Wanda says sharply.
“What, Mom? I’m gonna call it as I see it, since you two don’t seem inclined to tell the truth.”
You can already feel your lip beginning to quiver but you ignore it, “That’s not fair. Please, just listen for a second.”
“Not fair?!” Tommy protests, “What I think is unfair is that my mom and best friend have been lying to my face so that they can sneak around and fuck. I mean, god. That’s disgusting. Mom- she’s our best friend and you,” he points his finger aggressively towards you, “going after our mom? That’s really fucking shitty.”
A tear unwillingly escapes your eye, “But it wasn’t- it’s not like that. I didn’t intend for it to happen. It just did.”
“So you just fell into each other’s beds?” Billy asks, sarcasm thick in his voice.
“That’s not what she means, Billy,” Wanda answers solemnly.
“What she means is that it all just happened so suddenly, so organically. We were just drawn to each other, and that’s not in our control.”
“But your actions are. You could’ve resisted. Instead, you were selfish.”
You’re entirely sympathetic to the twins’ pain and anger. This comment, however, riles you from your sorrowful stupor.
“Selfish? You’re calling us selfish? You don’t even know what you’re talking about, Billy! Wanda and I have done nothing but think about you both the entire time. You want to know what we did yesterday? We decided to completely end things after this trip because we wanted to protect you two from our dumb decisions. Wanda and I agreed that even though we both have feelings for each other, your lives and feelings are far more important. This is one of the first really good things that’s happened to both of us in a really long time, and we gave it up for you. So you can sit here and call us stupid, or liars, or traitors, but don’t sit here and call us selfish.”
After your outburst, the room goes completely and utterly silent. Your panting hard and your hands are shaking as you watch so many emotions play out on your best friends’ faces. You glance at Wanda and the sight before you breaks your heart. At this moment, she looks so totally and utterly miserable. Silent tears are streaming down her face and her eyes dart anxiously between her two boys. Guilt pools in your stomach and you can’t help but feel that everything is your fault. Had you never been a part of their lives, nothing would be ruined and Wanda, Billy, and Tommy could’ve been a perfect, happy little family.
You sigh heavily and look at the three people you care about most, “Look, I’m sorry. I-”
“Just, stop talking,” Tommy says, interrupting you again, though this time his voice is a little less harsh.
“You, you said that you have feelings for my mom?”
“Yeah, yeah” you answer, vigorously nodding, “I care about her so much.”
Billy looks at Wanda hesitantly, “And you feel the same way?”
Although she’d just confessed her feelings yesterday, a small part of you fears that she’s changed her mind, or maybe even lied. You chew on your lip anxiously, awaiting her response with bated breath.
Instead of answering Billy and Tommy directly, she turns and looks straight at you, “Yes. I’ve never been more certain about anything in my life.”
You know your eyes are shining thick with tears and you give her a great big wobbly smile.
Billy sighs, rubbing his face roughly, “And you make each other happy?”
Simultaneously you and Wanda answer yes.
“Then who are we to get in your way?” Tommy replies, shaking his head.
You gasp quietly and turn towards the twins, hope bubbling up in your chest. They still don’t look totally okay, but the small, tired smiles on each of their faces tells you that they will be in time.
Wanda makes the first move, walking towards them both and cupping each of their faces, “You really mean it moya lubov? Because I stand by what I said, the happiness of you two will always be the most important thing to me.”
Any residual tension in the faces of your two friends fade under their mother’s touch.
“Yeah, mom. We mean it. We just want you to be happy.”
Tommy looks at you then and raises his eyebrows sternly, “And I swear to god, if you hurt her.”
You let out a watery chuckle, “I won’t. I promise.”
“And you,” Billy says, looking to his mom, “if you hurt her?”
Wanda turns and looks at you softly, “I could never.”
Then at the same time Billy and Tommy say, “okay.”
*****
When everything has settled, you and Wanda find yourselves alone yet again. Though there’s still so much new ground to navigate between you, Wanda, and the boys, you can’t ignore the unbridled happiness overwhelming your senses. You and Wanda look at each other with the biggest, goofiest smiles on your faces and you jump into her arms.
Reminded once again how strong she is, Wanda catches you easily and you wrap your legs around her waist. She presses a heated kiss to your lips and you encourage her, arms circling her neck. Somehow while still kissing you, she makes her way down the hall to her room. When she steps inside she kicks the door closed and carries you to the bed. Wanda throws you down on your back gently and then climbs on top of you. She kisses you a few times on the lips, and then the neck, before trailing her hands lower to the hem of your shirt. She makes eye contact with you, seemingly asking if she can take it off, and you nod aggressively. She chuckles lowly and grabs your shirt. You stick your arms out as she pulls it over your head and tosses it somewhere across the room. You shiver, and you’re not sure if it’s from the cold air, Wanda’s gaze, or her burning touch across your stomach- probably all three.
“So beautiful, baby,” she mumbles, placing kisses at your collarbone and then slowly trailing down to the valley of your breasts.
You moan at her featherlight touches, but you still need more. Wanda seems to read your mind as she slides her hands underneath you and unclips your bra. Your nipples are hard from arousal and the cold air and Wanda moans at the sight. She surges forward and takes your left nipple into her mouth, sucking softly at the bud and letting her tongue roll casually over it. Her hand stimulates your other tit, groping and pinching it lightly. She alternates, so that both get their fair share. When she pulls away she plants a kiss on your panting lips before moving downward to the lower half of your body. She pushes your knees up, so that your feet lay flat on the bed, and your legs spread for her. You look down at her, her eyes full of lust and cleavage on display as she bends towards your pussy, and you moan. She places kisses and bites across your calves and then thighs before tugging off your shorts and then grabbing your underwear, pulling it tantalizingly slow down your legs.
All of it’s painfully hot, and you're desperate to tell Wanda to move faster- but you know better than to rush her.
Wanda gasps as she throws your panties aside and eyes your pink, glistening folds, “such a pretty pussy, and all for me.”
You hum, “yes, only you Wanda.”
“Good,” she answers, patting your thigh. She moves back up your body and kisses you, though one hand travels down between your thighs. Lightly, she places pressure on your clit and rubs slow, soft circles. The only way to describe the sensation is white, hot pleasure and you cry out- luckily into her mouth. As her mouth migrates down your body, so do her fingers. They dip into your outer folds and tease your hole with your gathered wetness. As she sucks on your nipple yet again, one finger slides slowly into you and you let out a loud moan, “Oh Wanda, that- that feels so good. Please.”
“You’re doing so good for me Detka”, Wanda praises, “So tight and warm.”
“Th- thank you Wanda. Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you repeat as she thrusts her finger in and out of you slowly.
Wanda then inserts a second finger, stretching you wider. It’s a little painful, but it feels so good you don’t mind.
As you writhe in pleasure, you watch Wanda. Her long, red hair falls over her shoulder as she bends down to suck a hickey onto your neck. Her face is flushed and her green eyes are lust-blown. As Wanda’s hand continues to pound into you, you reach out and pull Wanda away from your neck.
“Wanna touch you Wanda,” you say breathlessly. You pull her in and kiss her lips roughly again. One hand stays in her hair and tugs at her red locks while the other wanders down to grope her tits. She moans into your mouth and her fingers falter for a second at your touch. As you continue your ministrations on her clothed breasts, Wanda adds a third finger and you nearly see stars. Desperate for her own release, she begins to hump your thigh as she fingers you. Observing her pleasure nearly sends you over the edge.
You beg Wanda to stop for just a moment so that you can slip off her shirt. You unclasp her bra and grunt at the sight of her naked tits. Wanda continues to pound into you and your legs tighten around her hand. As she humps your leg, you watch her beautiful tits bounce and the way her head is thrown back in a fit of pleasure. The image of Wanda before you sends you over the edge, finally, and your stomach muscles clench. You cry out loudly and moan Wanda’s name over and over as you finally come. Your body shakes with pleasure and you really do see stars this time. When you come down from your high, you are panting heavily. Wanda is still chasing her own, and you can tell she’s getting close. You grip her hips and stop her, “Don’t want you to cum on my thigh, Wanda.”
Suddenly, you flip her onto her back and straddle her.
“Drawer, Detka, look in my drawer,” Wanda breathes out desperately. You reach over her and open the top drawer on the left. Inside is a pink strap-on.
“You want me to use this, Wanda?” You ask seriously.
“Please, please fuck me baby,” she answers huskily.
You stand from the bed, Wanda groaning at the loss of your touch, as you step into the harness and tighten it against your skin so that it bumps your clit a little. When you crawl back onto the bed, you grab the hem of Wanda’s pants and yank them down. Then, you grab her lacy black underwear and pull that down too, revealing her pussy to you. You moan loudly and instantly surge forward, licking a line up her slit. She tastes so sweet, and you want to eat her out so badly, but you decide to save that for later.
“Please, Detka. Don’t tease me,” Wanda orders.
You nod and do as she says. You line the tip of the dildo up to her entrance and tease her folds. She moans softly and grabs your waist. Then, slowly, you slide inside her. She’s wet enough that there’s not much resistance, and when your hips meet hers you pause.
Wanda sighs out, “So big. Feels so good, baby. So full of you.”
“Anything for you Wanda. Your pretty pussy deserves everything,” you whisper in her ear as you thrust your hips for the first time. The squeal she lets out sends you into a frenzy, and quickly you are pounding into Wanda at a rapid pace. She’s only letting out a series of moans, whines and squeals and it’s so incredibly hot. You suck on one of her nipples and play with the other till she is writhing underneath you. When you get her close, you move down a little and throw her legs over your shoulders, allowing you to lift her hips off the bed and drill into her at a deeper angle. You know you’ve found her g-spot by the way she lets out long, loud moans, and you muffle her mouth with your lips so that Billy and Tommy don’t hear. With one final thrust, Wanda’s eyes roll into the back of her head and her back arches into you, tits touching. The moans of your name light a fire in your stomach, and the added stimulation of the strap on your throbbing clit sends you over the edge a second time. You both cum together before slowly coming down from your high. You’re left panting as you collapse on top of her, the dildo still inside.
As you start to recover, Wanda slowly starts stroking your sweaty hair away from your face. You smile against her chest and place a soft kiss there.
“That was really good, Wanda. Thank you.”
Wanda only lifts your chin and smiles at you before she locks your lips in another kiss- this time more sweet and tender.
*****
The time you’d been dreading the entire week- saying goodbye- has finally arrived. While it once left you sick with dread, now it doesn’t seem so bad. The fact that you and Wanda aren’t saying goodbye forever certainly helps. Wanda’s in the kitchen sweeping out the sand and you and the twins are packing up their car with your bags. You were nervous this morning that they’d act weird around you now that you’re with Wanda, but they’ve been fairly normal besides the occasional dark jokes here or there.
When the last of your stuff is loaded into the car, the three of you make your way back into the house.
“Mom? Want us to take your bags out to your car?” Tommy asks, swiping a banana off the counter.
She smiles sweetly at him, “yes, please. Thank you.”
You give Wanda a wink and begin to follow after the boys when she calls out, “wait, Detka. I need your help.”
Billy mockingly gags and you roll your eyes at him before trotting obediently back to Wanda.
“What’d you need help with?” You ask her eagerly.
She peers over your shoulder, making sure the boys aren’t in sight, and then grabs you by the shirt, pulling you in for a kiss.
You can’t help but smile against her lips, and when you pull away you chuckle.
“Was that it?”
She hums contentedly, “though I think I need one more for good measure.”
“I’m here to serve,” you tell her teasingly, kissing her again.
“Nope! No! Okay, that’s enough you two,” Tommy declares as he comes back into the kitchen, “Jesus, I’m gonna throw up.”
You both have the decency to look sheepish and say, “sorry!”
He sighs, feigning annoyance, “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Now come on, we gotta get back to school.”
Billy joins you all in the kitchen, “Yep, we gotta go, so no more public indecency, please.”
You snort a little and slap his arm lightly, “shut up.”
He gives you a pointed look and then goes up to hug Wanda, “Bye Mom. I’ll call you next week, okay?”
She hugs him tightly and kisses him tenderly on the forehead before taking Tommy into her arms, “Goodbye, moya lubov.”
Then she says to both of them, “You let me know when you get back safe. I love you!”
“Love you too,” they both say at the same time, heading towards the door.
Tommy looks at you, “you coming?”
You nod, “Yep, be right out in a second.”
When they’re gone you don’t say anything to Wanda, you just pull her into a tight embrace.
“We’ll see each other soon, okay?” she tells you.
You pull away and admire her pretty features one final time before you have to say goodbye.
“Okay, Wanda. I’ll see you soon.”
She smiles warmly at you and kisses goodbye, but not, you happily note, for forever.
************************************************************************
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The grudge (Losing your memory pt. 2)
Pairing: Young! Coriolanus Snow x fem!Capitol! reader Summary: You promised you would destroy him. Be his ending at all costs. The fight between you begins. Both about his position as President of Panem and about the feelings you still have for him. But the question still haunts you... is your Coryo really gone? The second part of Losing your memory, but can be read as a separate oneshot. Although I recommend reading it. Inspired by: "The grudge" by Olivia Rodrigo and @uhnanix idea/request Taglist: @uhnanix @serving-targaryen-realness @diannana @aoi-targaryen @omgsuperstarg @il0vebeingdelulu @chelseyyouraverageluigi @un06 @tallulah477 @snowspubes @hueanhdang @snowspubes @phsychobanana @blythlover ~•♤♤♤•~ Coriolanus Snow's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~
"Wait... what do you want to do?" Clemensia Dovecote asks in shock when you invite her over a few days after your birthday party.
"You heard me." you reply calmly, playing with the Sejanus bracelet on your wrist.
"This is madness, Y/N. You can't… you…"
"You think so?" you ask, amused by her scandalized reaction. "The Capitol has seen stranger, worser things." you say, getting up from the couch and walking over to the mini bar to pour you both a drink. "Besides, you have to admit, it's an… exciting idea. People are going to love it… well, maybe not the old farts and those idiots from our year, but... I'm very optimisitc about it."
"Yes, but… my God, HE is going to hate you for this." she says with a growing smirk on her face. You laugh heartily and hand her the glass.
"This is the least of my worries. The question is... will you stand by my side?"
"Y/N? You've been quieter lately, has something happened?" your mother snapped you out of your thoughts as the three of you ate dinner together.
You replayed your conversation with Clemansia from a few months ago, wondering how to break the news to your parents… actually, now was as good a time as any. You doubt there would ever be a good time to convey something like this.
"I… actually yes." you say, clearing your throat and getting ready to drop the bomb on them.
"Is that Coriolanus? Did he propose to you?" you choke on the drink you were drinking and look at your mother with a dose of disbelief and disgust.
Apparently, the ridiculous amount of roses, chocolates, dresses, and even fucking jewellery that Coriolanus was sending you didn't go unnoticed by your mother. After the first month, you thought he would take the hint, but since he tirelessly sent you gifts, you stopped returning them to him damaged (e.g., cut roses and burned clothes) and decided to give them to the servants and maids and simply ignore that poisoned snake.
"What?! No, of course not. Besides, I wouldn't say yes like... never." you shudder at the thought, at which your father laughs, joining in on the conversation between the two of you for the first time.
"Then what is it?"
Their expectant glances intimidate you for a moment, and for the first time, you wonder if the decision you've made is right. But there was no turning back. You won't let Coriolanus win so easily (or, rather, at all).
"I… well. I've submitted my candidature for president of Panem."
The silence in the room after your statement is... extremely disturbing. They both freeze; your father holds the fork halfway to his mouth, staring at you in amazement, and your mother looks like they've frozen her. For a moment, you wonder if you've given them a heart attack. But your concern for them quickly fades when their loud collective screams echo throughout the dining room.
"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!"
"So I guess I won't have your votes then?" you ask jokingly, going back to cutting your steak.
"Are you crazy? A female president?!" your mother asks indignantly, and you roll your eyes. Honestly, you were a little surprised at her shock. As if you would ever play her role as an obedient wife.
"You may not know it, mother, but more and more female politicians appear in the government. Right, dad?" you ask him, using your only-daughter charm on him, mentally thanking everyone above that this man never treats you with disrespect and hostility like other fathers would if their only child was a girl.
Maybe you kind of enjoyed being his precious diamond after all. Even if that made you desired by all of Capitol's young men, who were more than willing to take your hand in marriage and dowry.
"That doesn't mean you have to be one of them! Y/F/N, tell her something!" you look pleadingly at your father, and after his long silence, you already know that you are melting his heart to your will. All it took was a little, gentle pressure.
"What are your real chances of winning?" he asks with a sigh as your mother looks at him with disbelief.
"Y/F/N..."
"I think my only serious opponent is Coriolanus. People are fed up with these fearful politicians who have been arguing with each other for a long time. Me and Snow are a fresh take on Capitol affairs. We are young and ambitious. People may choose us out of curiosity alone. And among the female electorate, I think I have a much better chance than him... if you can convince mother to let me do this, of course. I won't do anything without your blessing and support." you reply, looking at him confidently. His face is unreadable, as are his eyes, and you silently hope that you have inherited his ability to hide your emotions.
"Y/F/N you can't think about that seriosuly. She can't do this!"
"If you want to be in power, wouldn't it be better for you to join forces? Run a joint campaign. You would become Prime Minister, and he would become President if being a First Lady didn't suit you."
"I am Y/L/N. I am taking everything or nothing." this one sentence makes his façade break down. He smiles and clears his throat, trying to hide his proud smirk behind his glass of wine.
"Very good. You know your bank account number. If you need more campaign funds, in a reasonable amount, of course, you know who to ask." you smile at this and get up from your chair, ignoring your mother's words of protest.
"Thank you, father." you say, kissing his cheek and leaving the dining room, leaving him to deal with your mother's anger. You had to call your staff. The game was about to start.
You enter the parliament building quite uncertainly. You are wearing a white suit made by Tigris. The black vest, which is intended to liven up the outfit, fits you a bit too tight, but you blame it on the fact that you've been stress-eating sweets lately. You will ask her to sew you appropriate clothes later.
For now, you wanted as few people as possible to know about your candidacy. You trusted Tigris, but there was no way in hell you could let Coriolanus find out about this beforehand. You will present him with a fait accompli.
Just like he did when he chose Lucy Gray.
You notice him first. He is wearing a blood-red suit and a snow-white shirt. You wonder if subconsciously it's his reminder of the deaths of the people who allowed him to be where he stands now, but you prefer to think that the bastard simply has no conscience.
You could easily escape from him, but you don't want to. Not any longer. He will be the one running away from you. So you walk straight up to him, the click of your high heels echoing off the marble floor of the Parliament building.
"Nice suit." you say to him. He lifts his head and turns to you as he hears your voice. You can't read the look in his cold, blue eyes, but you don't care about that now. You're only here to stick a pin in him before his performance. "You wore your father's clothes and now you wear Sejan's? Maybe you haven't really changed at all." you scoff at him, and he shakes his head with an equally mocking smile as yours.
"This is probably the latest collection from your favorite designer. Not that I remember." he says, putting his hands in his pockets and watching you carefully as he takes a step towards you.
"Impossible. My favourite designer is Tigris. And I heard that lately you're too much of a snobbish, self-assured asshole to wear what she made for you."
"Maybe it's because she's turning you against me, trying to convince you that I'm a monster?" he says this ironically as you both stare at each other.
You notice that the rose is missing from his jacket pocket. His hair is also messier, as if he's running a nervous hand through it—a habit that obviously hasn't died with your Coryo. You frown at this but shake it off to respond to his taunt.
"Maybe you are actually a monster, Coriolanus? Didn't that occur to you? How could anybody do the things you did so easily? Or maybe Dr. Gaul calls this an unconventional, out-of-the-box way of thinking?"
"At least she's not pretending to be someone she's not." he growls at you, furious, a grudge shining in his eyes, at which you seethe in anger. He, of all people, has no right to resent you.
"At least I can honestly say I'm not a murderer. And what about you?"
Before you can react, he takes a step towards you. One of his hands wraps around your throat like a snake. However, he remembers that you are in a public place and quickly moves his hand to your cheek and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. His icy eyes are locked on yours as he tries to read any reaction from you. You give him nothing. And you're damn proud of it.
"If you didn't come to wish me luck in my first public appearance as a candidate for president, you should go. Before I give you a real reason to call me a monster, little diamond." he whispers quietly, the tone of his voice laced with threat, but you don't give a damn.
"Oh, snowy… I really wish you a lot of luck. You'll need it, my boy." you say, patting his chest dismissively. You walk away, making sure to bump his arm with yours as you move past him to go to the hall where the first recording for the presidential candidatures of Panem is to be held.
And you already know that it will be hard for you not to look at him, as a furious surprise will appear on his face when he sees that you will also be presenting your programme and announcing your candidature.
You've regretted your candidature many times over the past two weeks. Partly because you had to spend more and more time with the devil in a fancy suit. You didn't see this coming; you were too busy thinking about preventing him from winning. Now you had to attend balls with him and other candidates and various events that helped promote your campaigns, smile at cameras and photographers, and try to remain as polite and courteous to others as you needed.
Like now.
You were attending some important business event, and your uncomfortable high heels were digging into your skin, hurting you. But it was worth bleeding a little. You looked drop-dead gorgeous.
"Tomorrow you have an interview with the Capitol Times; the day after tomorrow we are promoting in the children's ward at the hospital; at the end of the week we both have to go to Fulvia Cardew's engagement party. And in the meantime, you have to go to at least three fittings of new clothes that Tigris made." Clemensia says, writing something down in her small notebook.
"Thanks, Clem. I don't know what I'd do without you." you say with a small smile as you sip your glass of champagne.
"You'd have to keep that stupid calendar and schedule yourself. If you want to help in some way, you can finally answer one of the many calls from Coriolanus. He torments both me and the servants in your house at night."
"And make my mother lose hope that someone is courting me? No thanks; this way, I have peace from her, and I don't have to talk to him longer than I should. Besides, I thought you liked it when I gave you the gifts he somehow managed to leave at my door."
"At some point, yes... but you will finally have to clean up the relationship between you two. Even if we win, Coriolanus will remain an important political player, and it would be good to have him on our side. Besides, it's obvious that he… oh shit. Gaul is coming." she says, terrified, and leaves you. You turn around just as the co-creator of The Hunger Games walks up to you.
“Miss Y/L/N. Congratulations. You surprised me.” you swallow the rest of the champagne and set the glass on the table behind you, preparing to face this crazy woman.
"I think half of the Capitol was in a similar condition. But I appreciate the gesture, Dr. Gaul." you say this with a polite smile as the woman looks you up and down. You're glad you're keeping yourself from trembling under her scrutinising, watchful gaze.
"Mr. Snow seemed to be particularly surprised. As soon as he returned to the lab, he came up with wonderful ideas for next year's Hunger Games." she boasts, and you smile fakely. It sickens you to think about what these two could have come up with for these poor children. But you don't show it. Instead, you chose to strike back.
"I heard that after Lucy Gray's disappearance, their... popularity dropped a bit. I hope things are going well with the sponsors? It would be such a shame if the project and ideas had to be... cancelled due to a lack of money."
"We're doing well. When Mr. Snow becomes president, I think the government will be more willing to fund them."
"IF Mr. Snow becomes president, Dr. Gaul." you correct her, slightly irritated. The woman smiles and nods her head mockingly.
"Of course... If." she says it with a wolfish, menacing smile.
You both stare at each other with hatred for a moment, both of you refusing to give up in your little battle. The atmosphere between you is tense.
You flinch when you feel a hand on your back. The delicate scent of roses begins to float in the air.
"Dr. Gaul. I am so happy to see you here. Y/N, you look amazing as always." Coriolanus says as he leans in and places a kiss on your cheek. You would wipe it in disgust if there weren't other people around you.
"Mr. Snow." Dr. Gaul greets him.
The mysterious smile never leaves her face as she watches the two of you. You remember what she just said. How Coriolanus was still so eagerly working with her on the Hunger Games. His hand on your back starts to burn you in an unpleasant way.
"Excuse me. I need to get some fresh air. It started to stink in here." you say, subtly implying that it's the scent of Coriolanus and his rose that bothers you as you walk away from them both.
You go to the roof of the penthouse, which is surprisingly empty, and take out a cigarette. You search for the lighter, thinking about what Gaul told you. Somehow you felt even more distant from Coriolanus... as if she emphatically confirmed what you already knew.
Your Coryo was completely gone. And there was nothing that could bring him back to you.
But why did you still care about him anyway?
"I didn't know you started smoking." you flinch when you hear his voice behind you.
You ignore him, trying to light the lighter, but to no avail. Apparently, today everything must have gone shitty for you. Seeing your struggles, he walks over to you. He takes a lighter from his pants pocket and holds it to your cigarette, lighting it.
"What the hell do you want?" you ask him madly, at which he raises his eyebrows, but he is not moving away from you.
"What? You won't even thank me? You know, I've helped you there. I could just leave you to talk with Gaul, but I walked in and took her attention from you." he says, stuffing the lighter and his hands into his pockets as he leans on the railing next to you, staring at the skyline of the Capitol below you.
"I didn't need a fucking hero. I could have left her at any time. Unlike you, I don't play vaseline, I don't humiliate myself, and I don't do anything I don't want to, just to please other people." you snort and blow a cloud of cigarette smoke at him. He coughs, looking at you offended, to which you just smirk.
"You know, I remember the time when you were doing everything in your power to please ME. In many, many ways, actually." he says, using his hand to wave away your clouds of cigarette smoke.
"Keep these memories close to you because they will never happen again. I'd rather be burned alive than ever sleep with you again." you say it with obvious disgust. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the furrow of anger forming between his eyebrows. "Don't frown. Or make-up artists will have a hard time covering your wrinkles."
"I have no idea why you are so aggressive and act madly when it comes to me. I didn't do anything to you." he responded firmly to your mocks, never taking those ice-blue irises off of you.
"That's the problem, Coriolanus! You think that you don't do anything wrong, when the truth is that you are taking actions that are terrible. I feel like puking just looking at you and thinking about how many children will suffer because of Dr. Gaul's and your crazy ideas." you burst out furiously at him. You are now standing opposite each other, both of you glaring at the other in a furious, defiant way.
"The Hunger Games are necessary."
"Bullshit." you interrupt him before he can make any arguments. You see him sigh, running a hand through his gelled hair.
You catch yourself subconsciously missing his curls and how you used to stroking them when he was lying with you on your couch and reading a set book for one of your classes…
"Have you ever been in the District? 10, 11, 12? No. You didn't. You have no idea what kind of people are leaving there. You live in the safety of the Capitol, and you have no idea how quickly these rats can start a civil war and rebellions. Did you forget what they did to us? How have we suffered? I lost my father, and my family went poor. I had to pretend that I was still a rich snob. Tgiris, my grandmother, and I starved more than once; they wanted to throw us out of the apartment. I had nothing but a meaningless name and family."
"You know, that was the time when you had everything. You had friends, family, and a girlfriend. My love and limitless devotion, respect, and admiration. Now what do you have left? Money? Power? Glory? Besides, people are not the same. They can be good, Coriolanus. The fact that you are too afraid to see or admit it is proof of how huge a coward you actually became." you say it disappointedly, dropping the cigarette to the floor and stomping on it.
"I am not..." he pauses as you look up at him, and your eyes meet. He thought that no one could silence him. But one look from you, full of resentment and sadness, makes him fall silent.
You make him feel weak. As if he was still that poor teenager who had to hide his family's terrible financial situation. Only now he's hiding the fact that your words are actually reaching him. That they actually hurt him.
He couldn't afford to have any weaknesses. He had to be strong, tough, and decisive. However, after one look at you, it was enough for him to begin to question everything he had learned under Dr. Gaul. To question everything he did after the fucking Hunger Games and Lucy Gray.
"Yes, you are. Everything you are doing and every bad decision you've made, you made out of fear. Fear of losing your life. Of losing your position. Of never coming back to the Capitol. You are a coward who desperately tries to play the brave man that matters in this world."
"You have no idea what it was like in the district! Or in the Hunger Games, when I had to get Sejanus out of there. You don't know what you would do in such a situation, so don't you dare stand there and judge me. Not when all I could think about in those days, what kept me away from absolute madness, was you." he says, desperately trying to present his actions to you as right, to make you understand his point of view and the reasons why he did all of these.
"Maybe not. Maybe I don't know what it's like. But I would never become the cause of the death of my best friend. You have his blood on your hands. I will never forgive you that." you notice him flinching at your words, but that's all you can see through the mask of indifference he suddenly decided to wear. But his eyes—his eyes and the emotions hidden in them—remind you so much of your Coryo.
"Do you think I have removed it from my memories? That his screams didn't haunt me in my dreams? That I simply forgot about him?"
"You are certainly on a good way to do it, Coriolanus." your soft whisper gives him goosebumps. You look at each other for a moment. When you realise he has nothing to say, you shake your head, laughing bitterly, mocking yourself for thinking for a moment that he really was more than just the cruel Gamemaker, and turn away.
You walk towards the exit, but suddenly you hear his quick footsteps behind you. He wraps his arms around your waist with one hand and holds your hands with the other, making sure you don't break away. He rests his forehead against the back of your head, inhaling your scent for a moment before whispering into your ear.
"Do you remember that place?" he asks, his nose stroking your cheek. "Our second date. Sejanus, let me take you to one of his parents' penthouses. They were supposed to be on vacation, but they came back earlier. We had to hide on the roof and wait since they would leave so we too could. We had a picnic here. I was holding you close to my chest, a little closer than I am doing now. It started to rain. I was furious because I wanted everything to be perfect for you, and as always, everything went terribly wrong. I wanted to look at the stars with you and run my hands through your hair while you fell asleep on my chest, cuddling up to me as if I were your teddy bear. I loved feeling the weight of you on me. In every circumstance. Anyway, we gathered everything and ran to your house. You let me into your room through the window. We took a hot shower together and..."
"And then happened the worst sex I've ever had." you interrupt him, trying to regain control of the situation. He only laughed at that, which made your heart skip a beat when, for the first time in so many months, you hear him laughing truly, not in a mocking, bitter, or fake way.
"The worst? Your moans and scratches on my back proved otherwise. Besides, considering it was the first time for both of us, I guess I did a good job. Your silky skin has haunted my dreams since that night. It never stopped. And judging by the way you are breathing right now, you also seem to think about that time fondly. We can do it again at my place tonight if you want. I am now in a much better position to truly make your nights unforgettable."
"I'd rather be bitten by one of Dr. Gaul's snakes, but thanks for the offer." you huff, getting out of his arms and pushing him away from you as you go to the exit of the Plinth's penthouse's roof.
"Don't tempt me. You know I can arrange it. Sucking the poison out of your delicate skin with my mouth is a really tempting alternative." he says, following you as you both return to the main hall.
"Disgusting pervert." you whisper over your shoulder so that only he can hear you in the crowd of elites and reporters who have gathered.
"Both of us, my darling. Both of us. But the point is..." he grabs your hand and helps you down the stairs as if he was a true gentleman. You would roll your eyes at this, but people have already noticed, you know, that you have hardened the mask of politeness on your face. "I remember everything. I am not losing my memory. I never will. Not about you. Not about us." he whispers, and you feel his blue eyes burning a hole into your temple with how intensely he stares at you.
"You must be mad to think that I will just go back to you. Besides, I don't have time for you. My voters are waiting for me."
He chuckles and gives you a mysterious, quizzical look that you can't read. But before you can analyse his stance, he pulls your hand to his mouth and places a gentle kiss on it. His full lips tease your skin, setting it alight with the reminder of all the times he's had the opportunity to do this.
He pulled away from you as quickly as he leaned into your hand. He smiles, giving you a view of his pearly teeth. How pleased the devil is...
"We shall see, my little petal." he whispers. Your old nickname he gave you one day is sounding as perfectly sweet as it used to, and you are not sure how much strength you have left in you to not let him melt your heart. Then he walks away from you, leaving you in the crowd of other people.
And you stand there, rooted to the floor, and all you can do is stare at the back of his head as you try to snap out of the feeling of his lips against your skin, trying not to dream of experiencing all of him again.
A week later, you were returning from another party. You managed to sneak out a little earlier than usual without anyone noticing. Relieved, you got into the empty elevator and pressed the button for the ground floor. You leaned against the wall and sighed, rubbing your neck, where you wore a diamond necklace. Your momentary alone relief didn't last long.
As usual, you smelled him first. The faint hint of roses hit you as the man leaned against the wall of the elevator next to yours, giving you some space. You glanced at him casually. This time, he didn't have a rose on his vest. He was also much paler.
"The makeup artists chose the wrong powder for you." you say, not knowing why you even initiated a conversation with him.
"Was Thomas so tired that he couldn't stay with you until the end? Was he too scared to hold on to the precious diamond that had fallen into his hands like a grain to a blind hen until the end of the night?" he responds to your taunt. You frown at the hint of jealousy in his voice.
Coryo has always been possessive and unsure of your relationship and whether you might leave him one day for someone better. Therefore, any man's attention towards you caused... unpleasant feelings for him. He obviously still had this behaviour towards you. Even though you were no longer together.
"He has an exam. Anatomy or some other shit. But don't worry, he will definitely accompany me when the election results are announced."
"Seriously? Are you now going to show off with that little boy-toy?" he asks you furiously. You can feel how his cold blue eyes are piercing right through you.
"Livia Cardew?" you scoff as well, opening your eyes to glare at him with an equally disgusted look. "But you know what? Actually, I'm not surprised. The biggest whore in Capitol. After you, of course."
"You slept with that whore 374 times. Which makes you equally slutty, little petal." he says with a cheeky smirk. You huff, folding your arms as you look at him in disbelief.
"I can't believe you were pathetic enough to actually count this."
"You're lucky I've lost count of the number of orgasms you've had because of me."
"And you are disgusting." you shake your head, impatiently waiting for the elevator to go down to the ground floor so you can get far away from him. You try hard not to think about all the times you had… done this.
But he doesn't let you go that easily. He leans down and brushes your hair back to give him better access to your ear to whisper.
"And you crave me as much as I crave you, my darling."
"Do you think that just because you started donating to charity organisations, I will suddenly fall into your arms or into your bed? You think I don't know you're doing this as part of a campaign? To get more votes? Are you that stupid to think that I will fall for it and believe that you are trying to be a better man for me?" you ask him, angry and defensive, mocking him.
"I'm starting to doubt my ability to do anything you could approve of. But it's nice that you still care about me enough to be interested in what I do."
"You can give up your candidature for president if you want to see me happy." he laughs at your words, looking at you with a mischievous smirk.
"And make it so easy for you? No way, my darling. We both know that only the two of us have a real chance of winning. You should finally surrender and join me. We both know this is where we'll end up. I, with you by my side, just as it has always been."
"Not always. I remember very well the time when it was only you and your songbird." the elevator is on the second floor when he aggressively presses the stop button.
You try very hard to hide from him the fact that you feel insecure in this situation. In a small space, with him practically at your fingertips, you don't know if you can control yourself. So you try to remember all the disgusting crimes he committed.
"It was just a game. A show for the Capitol. You know I had to win. It didn't end the way I wanted, but you know perfectly well that I had to do it." he says, placing his hands gently on your shoulders as he tries his hardest to keep your eyes on him and you standing still in your place for the time he talks.
"I've already told you this. There is always another choice." you growl in his face, furious, refusing to give up.
"You wouldn't even talk to me if I still remained a nobody. You would have dumped me the moment it became known to all Panem that my family was poor and that Snow's name meant nothing. And marrying you would only be a distant dream of a madman."
"As if you had any chance now." you mock him with a laugh. You somehow push him away from you and press the start button. The elevator starts moving down again.
"I have your parents' blessing."
"And my disgust and resentment towards you."
There is silence between you for a moment. He stubbornly stares at your face, trying to read some emotion there, but you give him nothing but a blank stare at the door in front of you as you impatiently wait for it to open.
"What do you do when you win?" his question catches you off guard for a moment. You look at him in shock.
"What?"
"What do you do when you win? Bring an end to the Hunger Games? Try to get me killed? Why are you doing all of this?" he asks, standing directly in front of you. Your chests rub against each other with every breath you take. You lift your head slightly, staring at him defiantly.
"So YOU won't win." you finally reply, shuddering as he takes your hand gently in his and starts tracing patterns on it with his thumb.
He leans towards you so that you could rest your chin on his shoulder if you wanted to. You shiver, feeling the warmth of his body close to yours and feeling his lips gently brush against your earlobe.
"Snow lands on top." he whispers, hot air caressing your ear as he bites the lobe of it.
"Y/L/N takes everything." you whine, digging your nails into his neck. He gasps in surprise, his hands gripping your waist tightly as he presses you against the elevator wall with his body.
"Or nothing. But don't worry. When I win, there will be no one who can stop me from marring you."
"IF you win, then I will be gone. You will never find me. Just like your little songbird." you can see the fury in his eyes at the mere mention of her. His grip on you tightens.
"She is not mine. You are. Accept it and end this. You don't want to be president. I do. There is nothing more powerful than you and me, so and this damn kind of punishment for me and accept your place as my First Lady."
"Maybe I don't want this… but it will be so funny to watch you fail," you say, tilting your head and watching him closely as his nostrils flare with rage at your stubbornness. "Besides, I'd rather shoot myself in the head than be your wife."
"There was a time when you wanted it. When it was all we dreamed of. You and me. Together. Against the whole world."
"That's how it was. When I thought you were worth something more, when you were my top priority. I thought you wanted something more than money and power, but it looks like I never meant for you that much to be as important to you as you were to me. Or maybe I didn't know you at all." you say, no longer hiding the hurt in your voice, and you press the button on the damn elevator to get away from him.
You promised yourself that you wouldn't show him how much he hurt you or how much you missed him. But apparently he wanted to make sure he destroyed not only your Coryo but you as well.
You look away from him, ignoring the fact that he suddenly went quiet next to you. All he did was look at you. And you avoided his gaze, afraid that you would melt in front of him and that you would show him your heart again.
The elevator opens, and you sigh in relief. However, it doesn't last long. You tense up when you see reporters downstairs, waiting at the exit.
"Smile for the picture." you say, and drag him with you towards the exit.
You quickly let go of his arm as he obediently follows you, and you try to ignore the fact that his fingers lightly brush against your hand as if he wants to grab it. You move away from him gently and quickly walk past the reporters and paparazzi.
You quickly get into your car and nod to the driver to go. You lean back in your seat and sigh deeply, placing a hand over your racing heart. You can't help but glance at Coriolanus.
Thanks to your car's tinted windows, he can't see you. Still, he watches your car with his eyes, and for a small moment, you think that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't all rotten to the core. Maybe, in his twisted way, he still cares about you.
The first round of elections was behind you. As you expected, Coriolanus and you achieved the greatest results. The game for the presidency of Panem has begun to be fought solely between you two.
And you were about to play the first dirty card against him. Clemensia nods at you as you head towards the podium and the microphone.
"Good evening, everyone. Thank you very much for all your votes and the trust you have placed in both me and my, well, rival after all." people chuckle gently, you find Coriolanus' curious gaze in the crowd. "I am convinced that, no matter who of us wins the upcoming elections, Panem will be in good hands anyway." You see a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes as he comes closer, moving freely through the crowd. The look in his blue eyes never leaves you for a minute. You would tremble, intimidated by his attention, if you didn't know, what would happen in a few minutes. "Without further ado, I would like to introduce someone who will certainly make this evening more pleasant. You have no idea how much I had to beg our star of the evening to agree to perform today. Ladies and gentlemen. At my ask and to your delight. The one and only Lucy Gray Baird!"
As you leave the stage, you glance at Coriolanus, seeing him staring at the woman with the guitar appearing on stage in shock and mild horror.
You stand further away from the crowd, on the other side of the room—as far away from Coriolanus as you can be—and watch him carefully, leaning against the wall.
You have to admit that Lucy Gray is stunningly beautiful. And the legend she has created around herself, her voice, and her skills only make her more perfect in the eyes of others.
You're not surprised that she charmed Coriolanus months ago and now. In fact, you expect Snow, too overcome with emotion upon meeting her again, to forget his façade and pursue her. With a bit of luck, maybe your people will be able to take compromising photos of him.
But you are surprised when, after watching her for a while, he shifts his gaze to the crowd of people, looking for something. You freeze when his eyes meet yours. You raise an eyebrow, not sure why, instead of staring at the girl, he stubbornly searches for your gaze. Or rather, you don't want to admit that you know the reason why, because that's exactly why you quickly leave the great hall of parliament and run away from the man who is now walking towards you.
And much to your misfortune, Coriolanus Snow learns from his mistakes. That's why you suddenly bump into someone a few metres from the exit at the end of the corridor leading to the elevator. You collide against a wall of toned muscles. His arms quickly wrap around you, keeping you from falling.
"Leaving so soon?" his whisper sent unwanted shivers down your spine, as did how close your face was to his.
"Get your hands off me." you snap at him and get out of his grip. You stare at the elevator, contemplating how to get past him and get in, but he sees your intentions in your eyes and blocks any escape route with his body.
"What game are you playing?" he asks, staring at you. You lift your head, returning his defiant glare. "I don't even care how the hell you found her. Why is she here? What do you need her for?"
"Shouldn't you try to catch your little songbird before she flies away again?" you mock, ignoring all of the questions he asked you.
"I am." he says, staring firmly at you, making you more confused by his actions than before. He should have been after Lucy Gray… why the hell was he keeping you pinned to the wall, blocking your only escape route with his body?
"What?"
"I am not letting you run away. We are solving this here and now." he says this, looking around the hall. You take advantage of his moment of inattention and try to free yourself from his strong grip, but he doesn't move even an inch in your struggle. Fuck his peacekeeper training.
"We have nothing to solve, get it into your stupid head!" you shout at him in frustration, unable to get out of his arms.
"You know what your main problem is? You don't allow yourself the idea that you might be wrong or that you don't know everything about me. I may be a monster, but I've never lied to you. About anything. Lucy Gray and I had nothing when you were with me. Whoever gave you these stupid rumours was lying. Ask her. She'll tell you that the only thing I did was kiss her. When I was drunk in District 12, exactly the day after I got there. And do you know why? Because I was convinced I had fucked up my life and I would never see your damn face again. And fuck, even kissing her couldn't get you out of my mind. All I thought was you. All I think about is you. I can admit it out loud. How about you?"
"I despise you." you growl angrily, struggling in his arms.
"Yes? Then why did you frame Livia for engagement to Festus? You think I don't know it's because of you that they were caught fucking in the garden together?"
"I wanted to discredit you. Show that your girlfriend is sleeping with anyone on the side. Besides, you made Thomas fail at university, and he had to retake his exams today, which is why he couldn't show up. I had to take revenge."
"No. You were jealous of me. You wanted to get rid of her and you did. Why are you playing the gardener dog? Why don't you just admit that you want me?" you roll your eyes at him, trying your hardest to hold on to your internal irritation and fury at him. But it was a very demanding task, considering how his mesmerising icy-blue eyes were now watching you very carefully.
"I don't want you." you say, trying to sound firm but also a little indifferent, enough for him to believe you. But you can see by the way his eyebrow raises that you've screwed up something.
"Yes? Then kiss me." his sudden command leaves you extremely stunned. You almost lose the fight with yourself to keep your jaw from opening from shock.
"What?"
"If you despise me, if you don't care about me, then you will have no problem with kissing me and walking away like nothing had happened." he explains, moving closer to you, your noses brushing against each other, you feel his breath brush against your lips, and the warmth of his mouth is so close that it makes you feel as if you could actually touch him.
"Let me go. I'm not going to make a fool of myself for your own amusement. Those days are gone forever; we are not a couple, and we will never be together again. Get over it!"
"Then kiss me. C'mon. Prove your point. Kiss me as if you hate me. As if you despise every little part of me just as much as you claim. Prove that you have absolutely no feelings towards me despite hatred and grudges."
And God, you want it. You want it so much that it hurts you not to be able to press your lips to his right here and now.
You know that the moment your lips meet his, all your cold demeanour towards him will melt away like snow in spring. You know that you will easily return to his arms, giving yourself to him and proving nothing in your favor. And you've come so far—too far—to let him see past your facade now, to let him make you want him even more than you already do.
You shiver as he leans in so that his nose brushes yours as he gently cups your cheeks in his hands. He doesn't make the first move. Of course not. This cunning snake tempts you to give in to your greatest, darkest desires, which you feel ashamed of for having managed to survive in the recesses of your heart.
"End this torment. For both of us sake."
Just a gentle touch, you think, hearing his whisper and feeling his body softly press against yours, complementing you perfectly as always. One taste of his lips. Just one...
Your heart beats fast, and your breaths are mingling in the small space still left between you two. With a trembling hand, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. His fucking eyes are all you can look at, the unspoken request shining so brightly in them that you can't mistake his desire for anything else. And you give in, tilting your head to place your lips so close to him...
A loud bang makes you both pull away from each other. A drunk senator staggers towards the elevator, nodding at the two of you. He mumbles something under his breath, and after a quick glance towards Coriolanus and a nod of his head, you decide that he will walk him away and make sure he doesn't tell (or remember) how outrageously close the two of you were just moments ago.
You walk back to the party, trying to calm down enough to let the blush fade from your cheeks.
You make sure that Clem sends Lucy to her hiding place after her performance, and you continue to politely smile and pose for photos, promoting your allegiance.
And the next day, when you are reading the morning newspaper, you notice in one of the photos that this bastard put a rose behind your ear.
It was raining heavily.
It was late at night as you were preparing for your speech the next day. You walked around your room with a piece of paper in your hand, gesturing and practicing proper intonation and posture.
“Miss Y/L/N?” you stop when you hear the voice of one of your maids. "We have… an unusual situation."
"What? Did something happen?" you ask, confused at her uncertain tone of voice.
"It depends on how you interpret the situation, miss." you raise an eyebrow at her questioningly. She points to the window. You frown in surprise, but walk over to the window anyway.
"What the bloody hell is he doing here?" you whisper, seeing Coriolanus standing in your garden. He was completely soaked. His hair and coat were soaked with water, clinging to him as he stared at your window, standing still as the rain hit him.
"David says he's been there for several hours. He tried to talk to him and get him to leave, but Mr. Snow… just stands there."
Your first instinct would be to close the curtains and pretend he wasn't there, but you didn't want to think about the scandal that would start if anyone found out that your rival was standing outside your window in the full rain like some lovesick puppy. It was obvious he had to be here for a reason. It was probably some dirty play on his part. Something that was intended to negatively impact your candidature.
But then you looked at him. Even when you showed up, his gaze was... disturbingly empty. He couldn't fake it that well. It was not like he could completely hide his reaction to seeing you.
"Does anyone else know about this?" she shakes her head, and you sigh. You have no idea why he's standing outside your window in the heavy rain. You're just thanking fate for him choosing the day your parents left the Capitol to behave so strangely. You just hoped no meddlesome paparazzi saw him. "All right. Make sure it stays that way." you ask her and walk out of your room.
Walking downstairs to get to your coat and umbrella, you wonder why the hell he's standing outside in front of your mansion, staring at your window, risking getting sick with all the rain pouring down on him furiously.
It has happened before that he was standing under your window. Before this whole Hunger Games thing started, Dr. Gaul and Lucy Gray he would often sneak up to you through your window to talk about what was bothering him.
But that was a long time ago. And now you had no idea what he was doing out there and in all this rain.
You wrap your coat around yourself and take an umbrella as you go outside. The rain somehow seeps through your shields, hitting you unpleasantly. Water droplets start to soak into your clothes. You wonder how he stayed there for so many hours.
"What the hell are you doing here? Are you crazy?! Is this another one of your sick tricks against me?!" you shout, walking towards him. But he doesn't answer. His eyes are locked on you as he stands there, motionless. You notice that his eyes are bloodshot from crying, and his hands are shaking slightly, as well as all of his body. You don't know if it's from the cold or from crying. "Coriolanus?" you ask, starting to seriously worry about him.
He trembles even more, not looking at you. He fixes his gaze on your shoes. What worries you is that he is completely oblivious to the rain pouring down on him. As if he didn't feel anything at all anymore.
“Alright, come on.” you say, pulling him by the arm towards your mansion. You hide him a bit under the umbrella, but it doesn't change the fact that he's soaked like a dog. Maybe even worse.
His silence, the lack of any emotion on his face, worries you. You haven't seen him like this before. So… empty.
You enter the house through the back entrance. You put the umbrella down and turn towards him. Seeing that he's still not reacting to any stimuli and acting like he's on some kind of autopilot, you walk up to him and start unbuttoning his coat.
He doesn't comment on your behavior. Neither do you say anything. You just want to get him out of all those wet clothes so he won't get seriously sick... You have no idea why you worry or why you care. Maybe you are on some kind of autopilot too.
As you lead him to your room, you are involuntarily reminded of all the times he snuck there with you. When you were still the closest people to each other in this world. When you came to each other for comfort. When you were each other's only shelter.
"I should still have some of your old clothes here. You should go change and take a warm bath. There's no way you wouldn't get sick after this." you say, walking over to your clothes chest and looking for some of his old shirts and pants.
"Grandma'am is dead." he says it in an empty, emotionless tone of voice. You freeze in shock and slowly turn to face him. He still stands where you left him, his gaze blankly fixed on the space next to you.
You don't say anything. You don't know what to tell him anyway. You just stare at him, waiting for him to say something more. It bothers you how he just… doesn't do anything. Acting as if all that was left of him was an outer shell, a facade that barely held together.
You walk up to him and take his cold hand hesitantly into yours. You stare at them for a moment and look up, meeting his icy, bloodshot eyes.
"I... I am so sorry, Coriolanus." his bitter laugh at your words might be a good sign after his disturbing behaviour earlier, but somehow it worries you even more than his silent attitude and blank stare.
''You will never forgive me, will you? You will always see me only as a monster? As a murder and nothing more?" he asks, hearing that you still call him by his name, even at a time like this. The version he hated, instead of the sweet nickname he hadn't heard in a long time. Which even Tigris stopped using.
"Thta's not..." you start, concerned at the calm tone in which he says it. As if the truth of what was happening between you was starting to dawn on him.
"This is exactly what I am to you! A heartless monster! But you know what?! I AM NOT! And you... you are a hypocrite." he starts getting angry and pushes your hands away from him as he paces around your room.
"Me?!" you scream at him, disbelieving. You step in front of him, blocking his path and forcing him to face you.
"YES! You! You may not be a murderer, but you do something much worse. Your indifference, your hatred, and your aversion towards me—do you think it doesn't do anything to me? You've been killing me and hurting me day after day since I left the fucking Capitol and was sentenced to exile. And since I came back, your face, your voice, and your memories haunt me more than ever before. Missing you is killing me. Watching you from afar is killing me. Not being able to hold you in my arms is killing me. You said you could confidently say you're not a murderer. I do not agree. You kill me every day, and each time in a more cruel way. But all I can do is follow you like some faithful puppy, waiting for you to change your mind and give me a chance to show you that I'm not lost, that I'm not a monster, and that I didn't WANT any of this to happen! I spend every sleepless night, when I can't pass out in bed due to exhaustion and lack of sleep, thinking about you! And even now... when my life is falling apart around me, all I can do is... come to you. Just like I've always done."
He's shaking with emotion, and you think you've never seen him so moved or so shaken before. You wonder if he might have gotten drunk, but those thoughts quickly leave you when he suddenly leans down and wraps you in his arms. He buries his face in your neck, inhaling your scent as he continues to shiver. His wet clothes start to soak yours, but all you feel is his breath on the skin of your neck.
"I miss you so much, petal…" he whispers, and you stroke his wet hair, unable to tell if it's his tears soaking the collar of your shirt or his wet clothes or skin from rain. In fact, it doesn't really matter to you at all right now.
"Why did you come here? Of all places…"
"And where else could I go?" he interrupts you, his eyes looking at you so… pleadingly. As if there really was no other place on earth he could go in such a situation, where he could wallow in his grief and despair.
"I don't know… to Livia or…" he cuts you off before you can finish your sentence. He tangles his hand in your hair and pulls you in for a kiss. His lips are terribly cool against yours, but it only enhances how amazing you feel as he caresses your lips tenderly with his.
He slowly steals the warmth from you, which you're strangely happy about while he's deepening the kiss. You press yourself against him, slowly warming him up, his wet clothes uncomfortably transferring their wetness to yours, which you ignore in favour of kissing him. Just like the drops of cold water dripping from his hair onto your forehead, which doesn't sober you up and doesn't make you move away from him. If anything, you place your hand around his neck and pull him closer.
Eventually, though, you both have to pull away, gasping for air. You both take shaky breaths, his forehead resting against yours, as your senses slowly begin to come back to you. But you're secretly glad that his hands don't leave you as he uses the pad of his thumb to stroke your cheek, your lips, your cheekbone, anywhere he has a chance to touch you, as long as he doesn't take his hand away from your face.
"Only you saw me in my fragile form. Only you saw my shattered heart and the shell of myself. I... only allow myself to be vulnerable with you." he whispers with his eyes closed, keeping his forehead pressed against yours, trying his best to hold on to you as if you were his only anchor.
"Being sad, mad, or vulnerable doesn't mean being weak. Don't be ashamed of having emotions. I... all I ever wanted... was for you to... to be something more than all of these people in the Capitol. To be someone more than what Dr. Gaul tried to mould you into. You are a good man, Coryo. Please show me that you can still be that man. That my friend and lover is still there."
You don't talk to each other anymore after that. You don't know whether he has heard your request or is even considering granting it. All you know is that you lost that night. That the rational part of you had gone to fuck itself, seeing him so vulnerable and hurt, just as you were.
So, when he tries to break away from you and walk away, you grab his wrist tightly, stopping him.
"Stay. Don't go." you whisper. You don't know if it's a request or an order. He doesn't think twice about it either, turning back to you after a moment and pulling you into his chest as he holds you tightly in his arms and buries his face in your hair.
And he stays. You manage to get him to take a hot shower and some medicine in case he catches a cold.
This night, you fell asleep in each other's arms. Every now and then you stop stroking his hair, his back, and drawing patterns on his chest to use the pad of your thumb to gently wipe away the tears that sometimes fall from his gorgeous blue eyes.
And in the morning, when all that remains from him is a scent of him, of his cologne, and a dent on the pillow, you can't help but feel disappointed and silently hope that maybe your Coryo is still alive.
You haven't had a chance to be alone with him since then. You both are too busy running your campaign and the ongoing rivalry between you two.
However, you notice that he has stopped sending gifts, late-night phone calls, or other ways of getting your attention. Whatever relationship you had was purely political. You didn't know whether to be happy or cry.
Tigris stopped talking about him. You don't know if it's a good change, but she doesn't mention her cousin anymore. She was quieter after her grandmother died. The black clung to her wardrobe and skin, highlighting her paler than usual complexion.
It was the evening they were supposed to announce the election results.
You took the elevator to the top floor of the Snow apartment, picking up Tigris and Clem on the way and heading to your house to either celebrate your success or failure.
You sigh tiredly, leaning against the elevator behind you. You close your eyes and listen as it moves up to the next floor.
You open your eyes when you hear a soft, buzzing sound. Things have changed a bit since you were last here. The interior was, of course, renovated and more elegant, but somehow... more emptier.
You try to shake off the feeling as you go further.
"Tigris?! I'm here!" you shout as you enter the living room.
You look around curiously, waiting for the blonde. You walk over to the bookshelf, looking through its contents. You choose one of the books and sit on the couch, but before you open it, you notice a framed photo on the coffee table.
You take the frame in your hands and look at an old photo of you and Coryo at the end of one year at the Academy. You cup your hand around his cheek, pulling him closer to you as you press a kiss on his cheek.
You smile as you remember the circumstances of taking this photo.
Sejanus found an old camera among his father's belongings. He insisted on taking photos to celebrate the end of a difficult year of study for all of you. You didn't know that Sejan developed the photos and gave them to Coriolanus.
And you certainly didn't expect him to keep them.
“I'm afraid Tigris is not here.” you place the photo on the coffee table and slowly turn towards Coriolanus. His hair is not combed with gel; it is slightly messy, and he has those adorable, damn curls on his head again. "She left a few minutes ago. You must have passed each other."
"Oh. She probably went to Clem's." you say, standing there slightly awkwardly and looking at him. He's wearing a black shirt and pants. Slightly wrinkled for your taste and definitely too wrinkled for his. "Are you alone?" you ask, unable to stop yourself.
"I am." he says, putting his hands in his pockets, walking around the couch so that he's now standing next to you, and picking up the book you were planning to read before Tigris came downstairs. "I guess your Thomas is waiting for you at your home."
"We... kind of broke up. Well, we weren't together, but… our paths diverged." you admit, taking the opportunity to have his back turned to you as he walked over to put the book back on the shelf. You can see his shoulders tense slightly. You've never wanted to run your hands down his muscular back more.
"What a pity. Right when I remembered his name…" he murmured. You take a few steps towards him, the click of your high heels echoing throughout the empty apartment.
"You always knew it, you were just too offended and angry to use it." he chuckles at your words and turns to face you, leaning his back gently against the bookshelf.
"Maybe." he hums, nodding his head, his eyes studying you intently.
"Maybe." you repeat after him, warmth rising in your chest as you see a stray strand of his hair fall onto his forehead.
"You should go back. I believe they will announce the results soon." he moves past you to grab the photo from the coffee table and places it on the chest of drawers next to the chair next to the bookcase. In the meantime, he turned on the TV, and he was right—they were going to report the results soon.
"What will you do if… you don't win?" you ask him, and he freezes for a moment. He sets things on the shelf, trying to arrange everything perfectly as he ponders his answer. You are getting a little nervous since you can't see his eyes or facial expression.
"I'll think of something for myself. Don't be happy. You won't be able to dance over my grave for a long time." you snort, shaking your head in amusement at his answer.
"I believe that in this case, it will be you who will be dancing at my funeral. And quite quickly."
"Stop it. You know damn well that I would never hurt you." he snaps at your answer as he turns to face you. You have been taken aback by his sudden reaction, but your defense system quickly kicked in.
"Sejanus..."
"I regret it every fucking day. Every day I wake up in the morning and don't see you on the other side of my bed. Every day I spend time surrounded by people I can't trust. Every day when I see Tigris' betrayed look and your disappointed, hurt gaze, it haunts my dreams as much as his screams. And maybe I'm a monster because I really don't care if he lives or dies, but I REGRET IT. Honestly. By you. Because of you. Because I lost you. I... I had lost you." he whispers the last sentence, as if it's only now dawning on him what really happened. It breaks your heart to see him like this, especially after what happened a few weeks ago.
"Coriolanus..." you say this and reach out to grab his arm, but this time he's the one pulling away from you. And the treatment you've gotten from him, just the same as you've once treated him, is tasting bitter.
"Just leave." he says, his eyes averting from you as he stares at the window overlooking the Capitol.
You walk up to him and place your hand on his shoulder. He turns his gaze away from the city in front of him and looks at you questioningly, not understanding what you are doing right now.
'Coriolanus... I..."
"And the president of Panem becomes… Y/N Y/L/N! Congratulations, Madam President!" the hosts' shouts and fanfare echo from the television, interrupting you. It takes you a while to realise what happened. Your hand falls from his shoulder as you stare dazedly at the TV behind him. You won. You became president.
Realisation hits you. You have no idea what will happen next. And... you're afraid. But not that you can't handle it. Not that you'll have a lot of new responsibilities, or even how many people you'll have to deal with from now on. NO. You are afraid that HE will never be close to you again. And the last few weeks... the last few weeks, maybe even months—had shown you that you couldn't live without him next to you anymore.
You needed Coriolanus Snow… as much as he needed you.
"Congratulations." his words snap you out of your shock and numbness. He sticks out his hand, waiting for you to take it and shake it. But you can only stand there, staring at him as you try to sort out your feelings. "You won't even shake my hand? Am I not worth even that, Madam President?"
You shake your head.
You hear him snort, laughing bitterly at your action, believing this is another example of your stubborn behaviour towards him. He drops his hand, obviously hurt, and is about to respond when you suddenly take a step towards him, cup his cheeks in your hands, and pull him in for a kiss.
He is surprised. Probably the same as you, but he gets over it rather quickly as he automatically responds to your kiss, caressing your lips with his as fervently as ever.
At some point, you end up on his couch, your hands moving from his neck to under his shirt. Your touch breaks him out of the trance you put him in. He takes your hands in his and moves them away from his body.
"I don't want your pity." he huffs, pulling away from you as he stands in front of the couch. You pull him towards you by his shirt so that he's straddling you, and you kiss him again, effectively silencing him as your hands land on the buttons of his shirt.
"You've never had it." you mumble between kisses, trailing your fingers over the bare skin and muscles of his back, and he moans softly into your neck, leaving a few hickeys there along his way to the buttoms of your own blouse. "It was always either my love or grudge."
"And now?" he asks, moving away from you again. His blue eyes stare intently into yours, and you know your answer depends on how this evening goes. And you missed the comforting feeling of his skin against yours too much to worry about his morality, of which you were apparently the sole soul that wanted and was able to take care of.
"Both of them." you reply, licking your lips. Maybe he was right from the beginning? Maybe you were destined to end up together? Maybe you were really the only thing that could keep him on the right path? But were you willing to devote your life to keeping him in check?
"I can work with that." you moan as he kisses you while lifting you off the couch. Your blouse falls somewhere on the floor as he carries you along the familiar path to his bedroom.
His lips caress yours gently like never before. His hands are practically everywhere, gently stroking every bit of your exposed skin. He pins you against his bedroom door and sucks on your neck, leaving a hickey. You moan again, causing the same reaction from him.
"Please, don't ever leave me again." he whispers into your mouth before trying to devour you again.
"Then don't give me a reason to do it." you whisper back, combing his hair as he pulls away from you enough to open the door. He kisses you all the way to his bed, stroking your waist gently.
He lays you down on the bed, his mouth moving to your neck, licking and sucking, leaving a few marks there as his hands moved down to the button of your pants.
"Wait. Wait." he listens to you immediately. He freezes, lifting his head to look at you with concern and a worried expression on his face. "You're not mad that I won?" he gives you such a beautiful smile and laugh that, for a moment, all you can do is watch him.
He was so ethereal... breathtaking in every sense of this word. You have no idea how you managed to stay away from him for that long... even knowing what he did.
"I love you. I have always loved you and always will. I'll get over the fact that you won't be my First Lady."
"Well... you can be my First Lord... or something like that..." he laughs at that and leans in to kiss you. You cup his cheeks in your hands and pull him closer to you. You moan into his mouth as his bare skin touches yours.
You whine in protest as he pulls away from you. He looks deep into your eyes and caresses your cheek tenderly with his hand.
"You sure?" you smile slightly and nod, placing your hands on his shoulders as he pulls you closer to him again. "We shall create a dynasty, my beautiful little petal." he promises you, placing soft kisses on your collarbones. You run your hands through his blond locks, pulling his head and lips to yours. "My most precious diamond." he plants another kiss, this time on the corners of your mouth, undoing your bra. "Mine."
"Coryo..." you moan, and he responds in kind, happy to finally hear his nickname falling lovingly from your lips like it used to.
You don't care what happens next. What will happen the next day? What will happen when you take over as president? Will he try to gain more influence than you? Will he continue working for Gaul? Or maybe you will unite your forces and create a presidential couple that Panem has never seen before. You do not know. All he cares about is his touch, his mouth, and his body against you.
And in the morning, when you wake up wrapped in his arms as he places kisses on your temple and tenderly, lazily draws patterns on your back with his fingers, you realise how good it was to be back where you belonged.
You realise how good it felt to wake up in your Coryo's arms again. Even if neither of you were the same person you once were. And you will certainly have more than one fight, dramatic breakup or silent fight for influence and power.
But after all, love was stronger than any grudge you could feel towards your Coryo... or at least as long as he still was him.
#oneshot#young coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus x you#coryo snow#coryo#coriolanus snow x you#coriolanus snow x y/n#coriolanus x y/n#coryo x reader#corionalus snow#snow x reader#corio snow#snow lands on top#tigris snow#coryo x you#toxic love#romance#angst#argument#argue with the wall#kissing#clemensia dovecote#tbosbas#ballad of songbirds and snakes#hunger games#angst with a happy ending#hurt/comfort
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lovers in the night
summary: steve sneaks into his girlfriends room at night in secret so that they can be together.
steve harrington x henderson!f!reader. secret relationship!!!!
can be read in its own, or with this part 2 here, and part 3 here
a/n: reader is dustin’s sister so obvi. she’s gonna have like curly hair but no color is specified. also i L O V E a good henderson!reader with steve!! like idk why but it’s just a great pair since steve and dustin are already my fav duo in the show!! i love them sm😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
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cicadas buzzed endlessly beyond the open window and cotton curtains swished back and forth like a chest heaving with slow breaths along with the late night wind.
goosebumps rose on her bare arms as she sat with her back against her bed frame on the carpeted floor, slowly flicking through a book that dustin had forced into her hands earlier that day. it was actually really good, not that she didn’t trust her brother’s judgement on literature or anything, but some books he has lent her had been not worth the read. she should’ve read this earlier.
“hey,” a sharp whisper broke her focus on the words across the page and her eyes flew to the door. it was still closed. her eyes went back to the page, only to be interrupted by quiet tapping on glass.
she turned her head and grinned widely at the barely visible sight of steve behind the glass. “what’re you doing here?” she hissed, still sporting a smile while she got up to place her book on her nightstand and then stand on her mattress and slide the window open wider. steve didn’t answer as he hoisted himself through the window which was far above the ground. he grunted and then fell through the window to land on his back on her bed, making her step back on the mattress with her hands covering her mouth to suppress a laugh.
he sat up, huffing a little and pushing back his chestnut hair from his forehead as he watched her sit down beside him. “i missed you.” he answered and his hand snaked to hold the back of her neck, pulling her forward into a soft kiss.
she laughed softly into it. “you saw me a few hours ago.” she whispered, trying to hint that they needed to be quiet.
its been months they’ve been together and nobody knew that they were dating… yet. she was worried about how dustin would react, along with everyone else in his party; partially because they didn’t like steve until a few months ago. steve agreed with her, with some shock due to the fact that her brother and his friends only just started to like him, but wished he didn’t have to wait until they were alone to be as close as he wanted with her.
steve shook his head slightly, honeyed eyes holding hers in an intimate stare. “i know, but we weren’t alone.” his fingers gently tangled in the hair on the back of her neck. “sorry dustin booted you to the backseat by the way.”
she chuckled at the remembrance. “it’s okay, he rides shotgun in my moms car too.” her voice was filled with fondness. “what isn’t okay is dustin almost catching us!” she whispered through a toothy grin because she can’t help but feel all giddy at the rush of secrecy with him.
“well, what can i say? you looked really pretty.” steve whispers, leaning close to capture her lips with his again. he felt his heart race under his ribs the longer he kissed her.
she pulled away. “you can say ‘i’m sorry i almost jeopardized our secret relationship. it won’t happen again.’ or something like that.” her smile showed how she was teasing him while she spoke.
steve shook his head, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “it won’t happen again.” he repeated back with a cheeky smile, playing along with her.
she smiled back and brushed her curls back from her eyes. “good.”
steve lolled his head to the side so he could just keep looking at her. he liked how her hair looked right now; it was all wild because she took it out of its previous style from earlier and didn’t seem to have tamed it. “how are you?” he wondered.
she looked away from his eyes with an accompanied smile. her eyes landed on dustin’s book on the edge of her nightstand. “good. just enjoying the night, y’know?” she shrugged a little with a small grin. “dustin lent me a book earlier.” her eyes found steve’s again.
steve nodded and laid down on his back, stretching his arms above his head so that his hands bumped the wall. she stared at where his shirt had ridden up, the soft skin of his stomach was on display. “what’s it about?” he asked, looking over at where she was still sitting up.
her body slowly settled beside steve’s before she answered. her head was resting on his chest. “it’s about a bunch of fantasy people going on an adventure.”
“is it the hobbit?” steve lifted his head a little to gaze down at her face turned on its side.
she looked up at him when he named the book just based from her description of it. “yeah, have you-“ a knock on her bedroom door had them both jumping in surprise to sit up.
“hey,” it was dustin. “can i come in?” he asked, voice slightly muffled by the door.
steve looked at her and she put her index finger over her lips before pointing to her bed, intending for him to get under it. he did as she silently told him to do before she left walked to the door and opened it. “what’re you doing up this late?” she rubbed her hand to her eye, giving dustin the impression that he woke her up. he didn’t seem guilty as he walked passed her and into her bedroom, going to her closet and opening the doors.
steve swallowed thickly, glad he didn’t hide there. it would’ve been cliche and embarrassing.
“i’m looking for batteries. my walkie died.” dustin explained, walking to look at the things littering the top of his sisters dresser after not finding any batteries. “jesus, why do you have so much jewelry?” he asked, lifting up a glass dish housing her rings.
“i don’t have batteries, dustin.” she sighed and let her eyes slip to steve’s hiding place while dustin’s back was still to her. “why don’t you have spares anyway?”
dustin faced her with a seemingly exhausted sigh. “i did, until i used them all. there’s been a lot going on, in case you forgot about the upside down.” he sassed with a tone.
she rolled her eyes at him and gave her own exhausted sigh. “i didn’t, and like i said before, i don’t have batteries.” her eyes once again flashed down to the gap under her bed when she thought she heard steve shift or move around.
dustin looked with her in confusion. “are you hiding a demo-dog?” he joked lightly. “why do you keep looking down there?” he stepped closer to her bed and she stiffened.
“something probably just fell from how it was weirdly placed. you know… gravity.” nervous laughter ended her sentence. dustin cast her a look saying ‘you’re lying’ all over his face. he got down onto the floor on his hands and knees so that he could look under her bed. “dustin! get out of my room!” she hissed, kneeling on the floor beside him and tried, and failed, to moved him.
he was too far into his investigation to be told what to do. he moved a box or two aside and then paused, redrawing his hand. “steve? what the hell are you doing under my sisters bed?” he asked, almost too loud. steve smiled with his teeth awkwardly and crawled out from under the bed to sit beside his (secret) girlfriend. dustin’s eyes traveled to his sister. “did you know he’s here?”
she nodded. “yeah, he’s been here for a while.” her hand lifted to settle on steve’s shoulder. that was her way of silently telling him that it’s gonna play out fine. “why are you such a snoop?” that question was directed at dustin of course, who scoffed and stood up.
“i’m not. i was checking for monsters so i don’t wake up tomorrow and find you dead.” he widened his eyes and shrugged, as if his reason was obvious from the start. he walked to the door after receiving nothing but an eye roll and her forceful ushering out oh her bedroom. “oh, and don’t like… do stuff.” he made a disgusted face at the thought.
steve laughed with his hands over his face. he was still sitting on the floor. “we aren’t together, henderson.” steve covered.
he nodded with half lidded eyes. “sure. and why would you be hiding under her bed then?”
steve shrugged. “didn’t want the interaction with the other henderson. one’s enough.”
she slapped the side of his head after she’d walked back to stand beside where he sat. her lips were pinned into a smile. “asshole.”
dustin rolled his eyes and walked out of the room. “just be quiet.” and then he shut the door.
steve stood up after the door shut and pulled her into him in a hug, still laughing slightly. “my hearts beating so fast.” he panted. “he knows.”
“oh, he most definitely knows.” she nodded, pulling away. “might as well come out and tell them, but he’ll beat us to it with his radio system.” a shrug came from her shoulders.
steve pursed his lips with a hum and a nod. “how much you wanna bet the group has bet on us?” he wondered.
she blew out a breath in exasperation at the thought. “i can already see them all exchanging money with stupid smiles.” her gentle laughter filled the room.
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dustin didn’t knock before he opened his sisters bedroom door the following morning, and he wasn’t surprised to see that steve was still there.
steve was flush against her as they both slept on well through the morning, his arms were wound tightly around her waist to keep her from moving away.
dustin only shook his head with a sigh and maybe the smallest smile before leaving the two alone. he wasn’t going to tell the party about it, not until his sister was ready to because he respects her. but the party does already think that steve and her are together, so it won’t come as a shock.
he’ll let him sleep a bit longer before he interrupts the peace.
#steve harrington#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington fluff#steve stranger things#henderson!reader#dustin henderson#stranger things#fluff#stranger things fanfiction
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Anybody of your choice with a reader who likes to randomly bite for no reason
-👽
How about everyone?
Creepypastas x Reader who likes to bite
Ticci Toby
1. Playful Bites:
- You have a habit of playfully nipping at Toby’s arms or shoulders when you’re feeling particularly affectionate. He always laughs and pretends to be offended, but secretly he loves it.
- Toby's tics might make him a bit jumpy at first, but he quickly gets used to your playful bites and even starts looking forward to them.
2. Affectionate Gestures:
- Toby enjoys the unique way you show affection. Your bites are never harsh, and they make him feel special and adored in your own quirky way.
- Sometimes, Toby will bite you back, though he's always gentle, mimicking your playful nibbles with a grin on his face.
3. Comfort and Calming:
- When Toby is stressed or anxious, you gently bite or kiss his knuckles or the back of his hand. The familiar sensation helps ground him and brings him a sense of comfort.
4. Inside Jokes:
- The two of you develop a series of inside jokes about your biting habits. Toby will often tease you about being a “little vampire” (GIRL YOURE MY FAVORITE, sorry, its a kpop reference) or “his personal piranha,” always with a playful glint in his eyes.
- You respond by pretending to bare your teeth and growl, which never fails to make Toby laugh.
5. Public Reactions:
- In public, your biting habits can sometimes catch others off guard. Toby finds it amusing when people react, but he also loves how unique and unapologetically yourself you are.
- Toby has been known to protectively explain to others that it’s just your way of showing affection, ensuring no one misunderstands or disrespects you for it.
Ben Drowned
1. Playful Mischief:
- Ben finds your biting habit absolutely adorable and matches it with his own playful nature. He often encourages you by pretending to run away or daring you to catch him.
- Your playful bites often lead to laughter-filled chases and impromptu tickle fights, making your relationship feel light-hearted and fun.
2. Virtual Bites:
- When Ben is in his digital form, you tease him by pretending to bite your screen, which makes him laugh and play along, sometimes glitching the screen as if he’s been “bitten.”
- He occasionally sends you silly gifs of biting or nibbling, keeping your playful dynamic alive even when he’s not physically present.
3. Casual Bites:
- Ben loves to watch you while you’re focused on something, waiting for the perfect moment to lean in and “surprise bite” you. It’s his way of keeping things spontaneous and exciting.
- Your biting habit often catches Ben off guard in the best way. Whether it’s a gentle nip on his ear or a playful bite on his arm, he loves the unpredictability of it.
4. Protective Instincts:
- Despite his mischievous nature, Ben is very protective of you. If anyone ever mocks your biting habit, he’s quick to shut them down, making it clear that he loves you just the way you are.
- Your biting habit becomes a form of affectionate reassurance for Ben, reminding him that you’re always there and that your bond is strong.
Eyeless Jack
1. Calming Times:
- Your gentle bites become a calming thing for Jack. When he’s stressed from his medical tasks or haunted by memories of his past, your affectionate nibbles or gentle kisses help ground him.
- Jack appreciates the intimacy of your bites. They remind him that he’s not alone and that someone cares deeply for him, despite his monstrous appearance.
2. Quiet Affection:
- Jack isn’t one for grand displays of affection, but your bites fit perfectly with his understated nature. A soft bite on his shoulder while he’s reading or a gentle nip on his hand while you’re walking together speaks volumes to him.
- Your biting habit becomes a silent way to communicate your love, something Jack deeply values and reciprocates in his own quiet manner.
3. Medical Curiosity:
- Jack is curious about the physiological reasons behind your biting habit. When he asked you about it, you answered with “I just like doing it”, leading to him finding it fascinating and endearing.
- Sometimes, Jack will gently bite you back (bcs of his teeth), experimenting with different ways to reciprocate your affection while ensuring he's always gentle and caring.
4. Shared Solitude:
- The two of you often spend time in abandoned places, enjoying the solitude. Your biting habit fits well with these quiet moments, adding a layer of comfort and intimacy to your explorations.
- Jack finds your bites reassuring, a reminder that even in the quietest, most desolate places, he has someone who understands and accepts him.
5. Late-Night Conversations:
- During your late-night conversations, you often kiss/nibble Jack’s hand or arm when he says something particularly insightful or touching. It’s your way of showing appreciation and connection without interrupting the flow of conversation.
- Jack has a dry sense of humor and occasionally teases you about your biting, calling you his “little predator” (which you send glares his way when he does so)with a rare, affectionate smile.
Jeff The Killer
1. Playful Defiance:
- Jeff is initially taken aback by your biting habit but quickly grows to enjoy it. Your playful defiance matches his chaotic energy, and he finds it both amusing and endearing.
- Your bites often lead to mock battles, with Jeff pretending to be “attacked” and dramatically retaliating with tickles or playful wrestling.
2. Boundary Testing:
- Jeff likes to push boundaries, and your biting habit becomes a game of who can surprise the other first. He’ll sneak up on you and pretend to bite you back, always keeping things lively and unpredictable.
- Despite his rough exterior, Jeff appreciates the unique way you show affection. It adds a sense of normalcy and connection in his otherwise tumultuous life.
3. Affection Amidst Chaos:
- In the midst of Jeff’s chaotic world, your biting habit becomes a source of stability. It’s a small, constant reminder that there’s something tender and real amidst all the violence and madness.
- Jeff might not say it outright, but your bites make him feel cared for in a way he hasn't experienced before. It's a comforting contrast to his usual interactions.
4. Protective Reactions:
- Jeff is fiercely protective of you, especially because of your biting habit. If anyone mocks or misunderstands it, he’s quick to defend you with his usual brashness.
- Your bites are a reminder to Jeff that he has someone who sees beyond his violent tendencies, someone who cares for the person he is underneath.
5. Unexpected Softness:
- Over time, Jeff becomes surprisingly soft when it comes to you. Your bites are the only form of physical contact he doesn’t recoil from, and he even starts to look forward to them.
- Jeff might occasionally let his guard down and return your bites, albeit clumsily, showing a rare moment of vulnerability and affection.
Jane The Killer
1. Soft Moments:
- Jane is initially wary of your biting habit, but she soon realizes it’s your way of showing affection. Over time, she grows to appreciate it, especially during quiet moments when you’re alone together.
- Your bites become a way to break through her emotional guard, reminding her that it's okay to feel and express love.
2. Tender Affection:
- Despite her tough exterior, Jane has a soft spot for you. Your gentle nibbles on her hand or shoulder are a reminder of the gentler side of life, something she often misses in her dark world.
- Jane reciprocates in her own way, sometimes brushing her fingers lightly across your skin or giving you a soft kiss in return.
3. Silent Communication:
- Your biting becomes a form of silent communication between you two. A gentle nip on her ear or arm tells Jane you’re there for her without needing words, which she finds comforting.
- In tense situations, a quick bite can calm Jane down, helping her focus and reminding her she’s not alone.
4. Protective Nature:
- Jane is highly protective of you, especially when she notices others reacting to your biting habit. She’s quick to defend your unique way of showing affection, ensuring no one misunderstands or disrespects you.
- Your bites become a symbol of trust and safety, reinforcing the bond between you two in a world full of danger and deception.
5. Shared Solitude:
- The two of you often enjoy moments of solitude, where your biting habit fits perfectly. It’s a small, intimate act that brings comfort and closeness without needing to say much.
- Jane finds these moments soothing, a rare respite from her usual life of constant vigilance and danger.
Nina The Killer
1. Playful Affection:
- Nina loves your biting habit. It matches her nature, and she often initiates playful bite-fights, laughing as you both try to outdo each other.
- Your bites become a regular part of your interactions, a fun and affectionate way to express your feelings.
2. Cute Moments:
-She often teases you about being her “little biter” and encourages you to keep it up.
- Nina might respond with her own playful nibbles, turning it into a game that keeps both of you entertained and connected.
3. Mutual Protection:
- Nina is fiercely protective of you, especially because of your unique way of showing affection. She admires how unapologetically yourself you are and makes sure no one mocks or misunderstands your biting habit.
- Your bites remind Nina that she has someone who truly understands and accepts her, which is rare in her chaotic life.
4. Shared Excitement:
- Your biting habit fits perfectly with Nina’s love for excitement. It becomes a part of your shared adventures, adding an element of spontaneity and fun.
- Nina often initiates playful challenges, daring you to bite her in unexpected moments, making your relationship dynamic and full of surprises.
5. Comforting Presence:
- Despite her tough exterior, Nina finds your bites comforting. They remind her that she’s not alone and that someone genuinely cares for her.
- Your biting habit becomes a way to bring Nina back to reality when she's feeling overwhelmed, grounding her with a simple, affectionate act.
Homicidal Liu
1. Gentle Affection:
- Liu is initially surprised by your biting habit but quickly grows to appreciate it. Your gentle nibbles on his hand or arm are a welcome reminder of affection in his otherwise tumultuous life.
- He finds your bites soothing, a way to ground himself when he’s struggling with his internal conflicts.
2. Grounding Presence:
- Your bites become a grounding presence for Liu, especially during moments when he’s mentally battling with Sully or dealing with his PTSD. They remind him of your unwavering support and love.
- Liu appreciates how your bites help him stay connected to reality, offering a sense of stability amidst his emotional turmoil.
3. Silent Understanding:
- The two of you develop a silent understanding through your bites. A gentle nip on his shoulder or arm tells Liu that you’re there for him without needing words, which he finds comforting.
- In moments of distress, your bites become a way to reassure Liu that he’s not alone and that you’re always there to support him.
4. Protective Instincts:
- Liu is highly protective of you, especially because of your biting habit. He ensures no one mocks or misunderstands it, making it clear that it’s a special part of your relationship.
- Your bites symbolize trust and safety for Liu, reinforcing the bond between you two in a world full of danger and betrayal.
5. Shared Solitude:
- The two of you often enjoy moments of quiet solitude, where your biting habit fits perfectly. It’s a small, intimate act that brings comfort and closeness without needing to say much.
- Liu finds these moments calming, a rare respite from his usual life of constant vigilance and danger. Your bites become a reminder of the love and trust you share, something he cherishes deeply.
Hope this was good enough!!
#ticci toby#ticci toby x reader#ben drowned#ben drowned x reader#eyeless jack#eyeless jack x reader#jeff the killer#jeff the killer x reader#jane the killer#jane the killer x reader#nina the killer#nina the killer x reader#homicidal liu#homicidal liu x reader#creepypasta x reader#creepypasta fic#creepypasta#slenderman#slender mansion#fandom#creepypasta headcanon#jramblesaboutsoap
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coincidence! (2)
series summary. the holy grail of the seven men who ruled the country's entertainment used to be your friends at school. now, ten years later and between successes and failures, what reason would they have to want to come back into your life? pairing. eventually ot7 x f!reader. content. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! curse words, we're still on the safe zone, angst if you squint, just silly writing! a/n. hi guys! finally second chapter is out! im blown away with your response!! thank u so much from the bottom of my heart! i loooooved reading your comments <33 pls remember updates are weekly or biweekly! and if you want to be tagged pls say so in the comments! see you next week ;)
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“This is unbelievable! We're going to be rich!!!”
“What makes you think my sister is going to give you any of that money?”
“I created that Instagram account that was tagged in Kim Taehyung's damn story, I deserve a raise!”
“What makes you drones think my daughter is going to give you any of that money?”
“None of you are going to get anything out of that act of feigned innocence. Honey, are you all right?”
It seemed like a light had gone on in the room, four pairs of eyes landing on your still pale, surprised face. The night had been heavy after Yuna's call and you'd had so little sleep that you didn't know how you were functioning at the moment. Maybe that was the thing: you weren't functioning at all.
When you woke up, you thought it had all been a bad dream and that definitely the first exposure you'd had to the guys in years hadn't been because Taehyung came across your books at a convention you decided not to go to and uploaded them to his Instagram account with over eighty million followers. It was impossible, wasn't it? Too crazy.
Maybe not as crazy as waking up to your parents banging on your bedroom door saying that over a hundred thousand orders had been placed overnight and they didn't have enough book production for that much demand.
Be that as it may, Yuna and your mother took care of the communications on the account. You went from having twenty followers (including your family and friends —your father had created an account exclusively for that and only followed you—), to almost sixty thousand in at least twelve hours. The posts you had worked so hard to create and put together were finally getting the attention they deserved, but it had all happened so fast and suddenly that it was too strong to process calmly.
Weighing which was stronger, whether Taehyung's acknowledgment of your existence after so many years of zero contact or that your book sales shot up so immeasurably that they couldn't even keep up with demand, even if a month went by, didn't make things any easier.
“She's obviously still in shock,” Yuna replied to your mother at your lack of response from the living room, right across the dining room where you had been sitting since you had come down from your room. Your breakfast was still untouched on the table, but that seemed to be the least important thing in the room with all the more important news.
“Have the printers answered yet?” your brother's voice through the speaker of your father's phone rang as you blinked, reality settling too slowly on your shoulders. You didn't even want to think about what it meant that Taehyung had done that. Maybe it was simply an altruistic act, wasn't it? Maybe he felt guilt and wanted to ameliorate it somehow. What better way than to do an act of charity?
“I'm on it,” your father was sitting across from you in the dining room, his laptop on the glass of the table as he moved his hands over the keyboard and stared through his glasses at the full tip of his nose. From the way his eyes narrowed, your mother snorted.
“Why don't you get those glasses adjusted if you know you don't see well up close, let alone on electronic devices?” the woman reached over, dragging your father's glasses until they were almost glued to his eyebrows. Your father barely gave her a goofy grin as your mother started shaking her hands. “You better move. I'll do it. You write too slow; you're getting on our son's nerves.”
“Nah, I'm fine. I don't know if y/n is tho.”
Silence returned and you growled internally. Well, that was enough conjecture and assumptions without any information to substantiate them, it was time to get down to business.
“Do you think we should take over this business now?” Yuna completely ignored your stretch and you sent her a confused look.
Your brother exclaimed from the phone in agreement. “I call dibs on the treasury!”
“There's no way you can keep the accounts right! You're studying law.”
“Seojun is good at numbers, Yuna.”
“Ha, with all due respect Mrs. I/n, he must only be good at counting sheep.”
“Hey,” you tried to get attention, getting up from the chair.
“y/n, don't talk, you're still in shock. Can you believe he once called me from the supermarket to ask if he got his change right? He didn't even move from the checkout counter. There were people booing him.”
“Ow, my poor baby.”
“I told you not to say that to anyone!”
“I can't keep quiet if they're speaking lies about you!”
“This wasn't lies! This is about my pride!”
“Nonsense. I'll handle the treasury. I double majored in finance and international relations for a reason.”
“You can't run anything without starting bossing everyone around!”
“It's not my fault you're a good-for-nothing!”
God. It was going to be a long day.
-
Sorting out the whole printing issue and the number of orders was difficult, but with a couple of stories, interactions with new followers and express delivery of the few copies you'd already had at home for months, the waters calmed down a bit. Now, in the stifling silence of your room, you wanted to run.
“Are you going to stare at the ceiling all night?”
“Maybe.”
Yuna watched you from the bed while all you could do was stare as notifications continued to pop up on your Instagram account and your mail because the requests simply wouldn't stop, even though you had made a thousand clarifications to all the new followers. You were trying to focus on the bright side of things, regardless of whatever reasons there may have been for everything to have happened that way, but with your friend's incessant gaze lying on your bed it made it a little difficult. You knew she wanted to pierce your skull from curiosity, but you wouldn't know how you would answer her questions.
“Is there anything you'd like to share with the class?”
The tension had become a little more latent during the last few minutes, when Yuna saw a specific notification on the account. Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin had followed you. To describe your look of shock might be an understatement, and all you did for the next half hour was run across the room and throughout the house vociferating that you were living a nightmare.
Yuna has known all along that you had never been a fan of the siamese or their clan of friends, but she never knew why exactly. You had to tell her that you weren't interested in fashion, that you didn't like the kind of music Jungkook made, that hip-hop was never your thing, that you weren't interested in dilfs and you weren't interested in dance either. You had to tell her that all the things you once did with them didn't matter to you because it was painful, even if it was hard to accept.
You couldn't remember the times you would go shopping at the small mall in town to buy the trending clothes to put together different outfits with Taehyung and Jimin, then go try them all on at your house and invite the others and even your parents to do an impromptu runway show. You couldn't remember how the genre of music that Jungkook and you listened to all the time on his iPod and your MP3 player was the same one that his entire music career focuses on. You couldn't remember the nights when Yoongi would share his writings with you and you would help him compose a song or two on the piano when he felt brave enough. Or the times when you would accompany Hoseok to his workouts and then watch him create dance routines to his favorite songs while Jungkook sang in the background. You also didn't want to remember the times when Namjoon and Seokjin would sponsor their trips and give everyone gifts without expecting anything in return.
You couldn't remember those things. It was too much to bear for such a weak heart.
“What do you want to know?” you sighed, your body sliding on the chair as the notifications grew.
“How did all this happen?”
“Why do you think I have an answer for that?”
Yuna clicked her tongue, sitting on the bed with the cell phone still in her hands, still staring at the notification that snapped her out of her sanity.
“It's just… this is all unbelievable, magnificent and unreal. But how come you're not so excited about what happened?” Yuna slid across the sheets, to be right in front of you, but you refused to look away from the computer. Every time you thought you had overcome and grown around everything that happened so many years ago, something would pop up to remind you that you still had a long way to go. Maybe the nostalgia was strong, but so was the anger. “Regardless of how things turned out, because I know you're not as big a fan as me, this opens a million doors for you and I don't know why you're not celebrating it like we are.”
“It's…complicated.”
“I don't think so. Tell me.”
Yuna was unstoppable when she wanted to get answers out, but besides the obvious, of course there was something else that bothered you and kept you from enjoying this boom so much.
“It's just that all of this doesn't feel like it was a product of my effort,” you began, letting your gaze wander over the desk. The copies of your books you kept for yourself, the first ones you'd ever printed several years ago, lay there, as tattered as your failed accomplishment. “It doesn't feel like an achievement that my work had exploded thanks to a celebrity whose fans would buy even the toilet paper he uses. A lot of those people won't even read the book. They will just buy it and take a picture of it to say that they have the same book that the great Kim Taehyung read. Many of those books will never have a life, they will just be dust collectors and be reminders that all this did not happen because of my effort.”
“What the fuck are you blabbering about? Of course it's the fruit of your effort! Of course you deserve it!” Yuna got up from the bed and moved the chair around the back to leave you in front of her disgruntled and almost offended face. You could see the words drawn in her face. “You worked so many years to pull this off and after so many bumps you finally can! You deserve to have what you wanted so badly. This recognition will last just the same because many other people will read them and love them and they may not be many, but you will form a solid foundation as time goes on with people who will be truly unconditional and supportive and that will grow over time. Don't look at this so negatively, maybe you skipped a couple of steps, but you had every right to. It was what you deserved after all the effort and dedication you put into this project for so many years.”
Yuna didn't hesitate for a second. Her very serious expression sent a shiver down your spine and you could tell from her furrowed brow that she really was angry at your perception. Perhaps she was right, but without knowing the full background of this specific situation, you were only left to shake your head in assent and send her a grateful smile.
“I guess you're right,” you lifted a shoulder, turning your gaze back to your mail notifications.
“Of course I am!” the smile returned to her face and it didn't take long for her to look back down at her phone with sparkling eyes. “Now that we got the emotional charge out of the way, would you mind telling me how you know Taehyung?”
Your breathing stopped for a second and you cursed yourself because it sounded too loud as you almost choked on your own saliva.
“Oh?”
Play fucking dumb.
“What, did you think I wasn't going to notice? He wrote it crystal clear.”
Yuna wasn't even looking at you, too focused on running her finger over the row of notifications. Her nonchalant demeanor only caused you to panic more. It was as if she had caught you red-handed.
One of the best writers I've ever met in my life, damn you Kim Taehyung.
“Ah… I didn't… I didn't really know him so let's just say…”
“He couldn't have said that for nothing, don't you think? No celebrity would do that unless it was a person they hold in deep regard.”
Yuna had just caught you totally off guard. Maybe you should've focused a lot more on what Taehyung had written before you blocked his user from your personal account and threw the phone in the bottom of your drawer the night before and tried hard not to think about the rest for the rest of the night and all that day.
“It's just that… uhm… we studied at the same school. But for a short time actually. I don't even remember it well actually, ha, ha.”
Your laugh came out too constrained under your friend's narrow-eyed stare. You knew you'd have a hard time convincing her because you were a lousy liar.
“You know, it always struck me as odd that you weren't a fan. Taehyung and Jimin are like the two extremes of your ideal type.”
“Whaaaat?”
“And Jungkook's music is literally the kind of music you listen to, you just don't listen to his. All the other artists in the same genre you do listen to.”
“That has nothing to do with…”
“And even your parents don't claim to know Kim Seokjin when your mother was literally a nurse. She probably worked with him.”
“What does that have to do…?”
“And your brother is a hip-hop fan. How come he doesn't listen to Agust D? He's the best rapper of the last few decades and he's been trending for a long time.”
“…”
At what fucking moment?
“And all of them, plus Hobi and Namjoon, they all went to the same school. They're all friends. And you say you went to school with Taehyung?”
“Ahm… well, yes, but it's not like I would have met the others.”
Yuna looked at you, really looked you straight in the eyes as if that way she could tell what it was you were hiding or as if that solved all her guesses. It was impossible for her not to figure it out if she had already tied up all the damn loose ends.
Since the boys had left one by one, clearly your family was the first to realize how much their departures had affected you. In the beginning there was communication and all, but when Jungkook was the last to leave you lost any kind of link with them completely. You never knew exactly what happened because no matter how hard you tried to contact them you couldn't, not even your parents could talk to the boys' parents. Perhaps they had simply grown up, matured, completely forgetting about their ordinary life in that town.
They seemed to have disappeared from the planet.
Until your family moved to the capital. Jungkook was just starting out as an idol, but he had an amazing debut. He had captivated the entire audience and was too successful almost from the second one. It was a torment to watch them grow professionally little by little because, although you were happy for their achievements and all, you couldn't forget that they had basically abandoned you. And your parents and Seojun had noticed. They had noticed how much seeing them all over the place was bumming you out, so unreachable when at one point they were all in your living room eating your mother's delicious kimchi and listening to your father's anecdotes. Everyone was affected by their departures, but clearly no one as much as you.
That's why, of course, your parents and brother had made a silent vow to keep all media about the boys away from you, because they didn't even talk about it by accident in the house, at least not when you were present.
“It must be a huge coincidence…” Yuna continued and only at that moment did you realize how much you got into your head. Your vision slightly blurred. “I shouldn't accuse you of anything for things like that, should I? What nonsense.”
You were probably as white as a sheet of paper.
“Yeah, it would be too weird… ha, ha.”
God, you had to stop letting out those giggles when you were nervous.
“Anyway, should we order fried chicken for dinner?”
“I think I heard mom say she was going to make japchae.”
“Ohhhhhh, Mrs. l/n's japchae is delicious!”
You let out a laugh watching your friend spring up from the bed and head for the door. She stopped halfway out and pointed her index finger at you.
“Don't tell my mom I said that.”
You made a gesture to zipper your mouth shut and Yuna finally left.
The previous conversation had been so tense that you already felt tired and ready to sleep at seven o'clock at night. Really the whole day had been so heavy for everyone that you didn't know how the lights in the house were still on. For now, you couldn't do anything else, even if orders continued to come in, now everything depended on the printer and how fast the books would come out, so you would have to wait.
Maybe you should rest. You had asked your boss for the day off, but tomorrow you would have to continue working hard. Regardless of the incredible growth you'd had, you couldn't let your work go to waste.
Tomorrow would be a new day. A quieter one, preferably.
-
a/n: i'll try to have ready part 3 for next week! see you on june 13 at 11:59 pm - GMT5 time!
tag: @rinkud @futuristicenemychaos @pastelpeachess @parapiop7 @kokoandkookie @midiplier @thunderg @lizzymizzy-blogg @ladymorrie @butnotmontana @lovelgirl22 @jjeonjjk7 @aurorathi @ot7stansthings @kunacat @borahaetelevision @mylovingstars @ghostlyworld @talyaaas-blog @slowlyshycomputer @jjk174 @maynina @saintomie @damn-u-min-yoongi @juju-227592
#bts x reader#bts fluff#bts#bts angst#bts fanfic#bts imagines#bts jungkook#bts scenarios#bts jimin#taehyung angst#taehyung x reader#jungkook angst#jungkook x reader#jimin x reader#jimin angst#seokjin x reader#seokjin angst#namjoon angst#namjoon x reader#hobi x reader#hobi angst#hoseok x reader#hoseok angst#yoongi x reader#yoongi angst#series: i can fix them
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