#there were a few words i heard that sounded like similar words in other languages so i was like oh neato

[hood-ex]

Question. What are some classic Hindi/Bollywood movies? Ones that are cinema staples that everyone knows or references? Also, what was a good era for Hindi/Bollywood movies? Because I love 80s American movies, but are there also some amazing Hindi movies from the 80s as well? (Recs don't need to be specifically from the 80s though!)

Signed,

A newb who just watched her first Bollywood movie today.

[sincerelyrki]

you don’t look like an angel

being heavens highest angel, lee heeseung was completely and utterly fucked. he’d made the one mistake that could cost him both his wings and his immortality- he had summoned a demon into the most sacred paradise on earth. it was only his luck that it wasn’t just a regular impure demon; no, it was worse. he had summoned a succubus.

paring : virgin!angel!heeseung x succubus!fem!reader

warnings + genre : smut. slightly dubcon (heeseung didn’t know what was happening). corruption. religious guilt. begging. unsafe sex. marking. oral (m). riding. slight degradation. begging. profanity. blood. cumming untouched. demons hiss and purr.

wc : 5.9

a/n : idk what this is but i had to read the entire thing out loud to make sure it sounded right and i think it’s safe to say that this might be one of my favourite works i’ve ever written so far? something about heeseung and corruption…anyways, as always i’d love to hear everyone’s thoughts 🤞

written perm taglist : @vousty @ilololoveyou @moon0fthenight

Heeseung was just finishing his final prayer when it happened, his hands still pressed together at the base of his forehead. Earlier in the day he’d heard about a new prayer, one that was said to be extremely popular with the rising youth. 

It was spoken in another language, one far too complex for Heeseung to understand. But the words were simple, easy to pronounce and fairly similar to a chant he’d heard his mother pray with. 

Due to its simplicity, it allowed more room for error. One small mistake could change the outcome of any prayer spoken through an angel's lips. Their loving prayers were far more powerful than any other beings, their direct connection with the lord strengthening their pleas. 

With the ability to heal an unknown disease with a singular sentence, an angel's voice was the most sought-after remedy.

But as the old saying says, with great power comes great responsibility. 

With a voice as strong as theirs it was bound to be heard. Whether it was heard from the lord or other angels, someone was always listening. 

What Heeseung failed to realize was that the language of his new prayer was the language of the unknown. No living human understood the language, their own interpretations being nowhere near the direct translation.

But like all other sayings, their false words made their way through the clouds. The wind was listening, the echoes of their translations meeting the ears of a few young angels.

They weren’t of the right age to learn about the wind's voice yet, so they did what they thought they had to. They spread the word, the listening angels hearing their prayers. 

It was a cruel game of telephone, the words jumbling together until it was forced to make its own poem. Heeseung just happened to be at the receiving end of one of one.

For a room that was well above the atmosphere, it was oddly humid. The freshwater flowers that thrived in his usual cold room were now completely withered. Their once vibrant petals were now dyed a terrific red, the hue straining their pure white appearance.

Heeseung watched with the utmost confusion as they contorted within seconds, the vapour diffusing into a puddle of red acid that gathered alongside the vase, identical red streams dripping from each individual stamen.

His hand moved on its own, his fingers a hairstring away from the mysterious liquid before a loud voice echoed from the other side of the room. Heeseung’s main light went out, his bedside lamp coming to life on its own. 

“You shouldn’t touch that.” Heeseung jumped in place, his wings springing free from their confinement in his attempt to defend himself. 

He was light on his feet when he spun around, unfortunately for him- he saw nothing but darkness on the other side of his room. Your figure blending right into the background. 

He grew panicked when his hand was met with air when he reached back for his bow, the situation drawing down fast on him. Not only was he stuck in a room with a mysterious creature but he was left defenseless in said room with the mysterious creature.

What were the chances that you were another angel?

“Are you looking for this?” The angel's jaw fell in shock when his missing bow dropped by his feet, the riser snapped clean in half. His heart sank at the sight, pain creeping across his chest. 

His bow was crafted with the finest materials, the limbs harvested from their most sacred willow tree’s aged bark- embezzled with an intricate carving for each of his greatest accomplishments. 

In an instant Heeseung grew nervous, he knew he wasn’t in the presence of an angel. Each angel was sworn by an oath, and the roots of the tree webbed across their every bone, making it impossible for them to harm such a sacred weapon. 

His jaw remained open when you finally revealed yourself, you were the envisionment of sin.

Yep, you definitely aren’t an angel.

Your breasts were held up with the tiniest fabric he’d ever seen, nothing but two small triangles hanging from your shoulders that were attached with a thin knot. The article did nothing to hide your body, everything except for your nipples out for him to see. 

His cheeks grew inflamed by an invisible force pulling his eyes down to follow the curvature of your exposed waist.  A slightly larger triangle sat hugging your hips, the right side of your hips was exposed, the fabric cascading in a diagonal slit towards your left thigh. It took him several seconds after staring at your legs to realize what he was doing. He slapped his right hand over his eyes, lips opening to recite his prayers.

Heeseung felt ashamed of his reaction, as angels weren’t supposed to observe nudity in a sexual manner. He’d never viewed another person's body in the way he did yours and he’d spent many hours aiding the other angels bathe during their sicknesses- this was a whole new territory that he’d never dared to think about. 

You, of course, noticing his ashamed prayers couldn’t help but take offence. Why would he beg for forgiveness after he called out to you? It wasn’t god who he should be worshiping, it should be you. 

“You can’t help your reaction, my body is supposed to make you feel like that.” You humoured him anyways knowing that none of this ashamed shit that he was feeling would matter in an hour. 

Heeseung vigorously shook his head in denial, your words not helping his inner turmoil at all. You were wrong, you had to be. He was supposed to be an angel and angels don’t act upon sin. 

He’d spent his entire childhood learning about each sin, spending hours of his life drowning in the promise of devotion. 

He had been loyal since the day he was born, temptations weren’t even a thought in his head anymore. He was the living epitome of purity. How could he honour his mother if he gave into the word of the demon? 

Heeseung kept his eyes on you whilst he completed his prayers, his final words building a sanctuary around his untainted blood. The blood of a virgin. 

You started your advance with small steps towards him, your bare feet making no sound as you neared him. The closer you got the more potent the blood’s smell became, iron heavy in the air as your body heat drew closer. 

You stopped halfway across the room, your mouth was practically watering by the time you were able to make out the small pool of red, the pretty flowers only making it seem more appetizing. 

“Do angels ever crave blood the way we do?” You knew they didn’t, it was against their entire existence but some sick side of you wanted nothing more than to see the angel’s reaction to your question.

Pretty boys were your weakness and Heeseung was so fucking gorgeous. You grew jealous of your future self, loathing that she got to touch him- to fuck him the way you’re imagining it right now. You couldn’t wait to watch him shake beneath you, begging to whoever was listening for you to stop. 

Heeseung’s mouth dropped in horror, you craved blood? He looked at you like you were insane for your completely valid needs like he couldn’t fathom craving something so inhumane. He wasn’t completely sure if you meant human or animal blood but after seeing the way you looked at him he’d say had a pretty lucky guess. 

“Because I've never craved it more.” Chills went down Heeseung’s spine while he tried reading through your words, were you a vampire who smelled him from Earth? He knew angels smelt the best to them. 

His questions answered themselves through the sudden wave of iron clashing with his sensitive nose. He looked over his shoulder towards the flowers that were now completely drenched. 

“Whose blood is this?” He was barely finding his voice before he forcefully stuttered his final question, his throat burning with a newfound emotion.

Your head cocked to the side while your lips pulled up into a side smirk, your pink tongue quickly coming out to wet them. It was almost an endearing sight, almost. 

Heeseung stumbled back with a small shriek when you suddenly appeared right in front of him, your chest pressing flesh against his for a few seconds too long. 

He watched the way you kept your eyes on him whilst reaching one of your fingers out towards the pool of blood, a gasp crawling up his throat when you brought your fingers to your lips.

You made a show of sticking your tongue out, trailing your finger from the bottom up before you stuck in between your lips. 

You let out a small hum of approval, the sweet taste of his blood tasting better than any you’ve tried before. You finally understood what your friends meant when they swore that a virgin’s blood tasted the best, however, they never got the pleasure of tasting it from an angel. 

“It’s your blood, who else’s would it be?” You watched in amusement as the angel’s face blanched, his wings twitching behind his back as he attempted to curl into himself. ‘Cute’, you hummed to yourself as you mentally took a shot at this moment. If there was one rule about angles that every species seemed to agree on was that angels have always been beautiful. But there was something about this specific one that felt so different. It could’ve been the fact that he was untouched, or it could’ve been the way his fear shone so obviously in his eyes that turned you on so fucking much. 

Typically angels smelled of a plethora of flowers, gardens growing from their untainted hands. Usually, the scent bothered you, your body being much more used to the fruit-like and sensual scents that the demons claimed as their own. 

Many angels assumed that demons would smell of burnt flesh and plied wood and sometimes they definitely weren’t wrong. But most smelled like you- after all, you needed to smell as good as you looked. No one wants to fuck someone who smells bad, even demons had class. 

“What are you?” Heeseung questioned, his wings still pulled behind his back. Even though he knew you weren’t an angel, he still had his doubts. Demon wasn't even a word in his vocabulary, it was one of the few words that were forbidden to be spoken in heaven. Sure, you had wings and the same flawless skin he sported but your wings… they couldn’t be any more different. 

Your wings were almost double his size and they appeared much more feathered, looking as if they’d been plucked from the most gracious birds and dipped into the darkest ink, black and red sunsets carving up each intricate row of feathers. 

He just never expected you to become his beautiful devastation. 

You ignored his question and continued observing the way his body reacted to you. His smell quickly became addictive, your adulterated temperament wearing thin the longer he lingered in your senses. 

“What do you want me to be?” You purred out in your most seductive tone. While waiting for his response you took it upon yourself to move closer to him, your steps much less hesitant than earlier. 

There was no denying that the man before you was truly captivating but there was something else that caught your attention much faster. His pearlescent wings were practically glowing in the dark, a layer of pale blue surrounding the smoothed edges. Which, after thinking about it for a few seconds didn’t make very much sense to you since the angels tended to constantly stay in the light. 

“An angel?” You made a sound of disgust at his disrespectful words, you? An angel? Honestly, you’d rather be a troll which says a lot considering their reputation. 

“I’ll be your angel if it helps?” Heeseung tried hiding his very evident fluster by attempting to turn away from your vision but when he tried to move, he couldn’t. 

You giggled out loud watching the panic spread throughout his face, your mind fogging with all the ways you could use him whilst he’s in this state. There was something so satisfying about having complete control over another person's body, whether it’s through your mind or actions. 

“Aw, what happened?” You cooed, acting dumb has always been one of your strong forts. It came in useful at times like this, the ability to feign innocence with a singular pout. 

Heeseung, unfortunately for him, fell right into your trap. He was naive enough to believe that you had nothing to do with his state, which is way beyond you. It would’ve been obvious to anyone else that you were controlling him but perhaps angels thought differently.

“I can’t move.” Heeseung nearly screamed when your hand pressed on the spot where his heart lay beneath his chest, his heart thundering louder than before. It was only racing because he was scared, there’s no way your touch was affecting him. Angels don't feel lust. 

Lust. The definition is described as a “disordered desire for inordinate enjoyment of pleasure.” Heeseung lived by the word of the lord. He’d spent his entire life bending backwards to live by the commandments that were shoved down his throat, his lungs choking against the words bubbling to come out. 

It wasn’t hard to drown into the mold that’s been made to best fit him but it was nearly impossible to escape. He thought he was fine in this confined space, lonely sure, but free of sin. He was accepted by the lord and that’s all that he’s ever wanted.

But he was made for sin because he was made for you. 

“Then I guess I'll have to take care of you. I can’t leave you here all alone, not when you’re this vulnerable.” Poison disguised as worry spilled from your lips and slipped through Heeseung’s mind. 

Your words drew more than reassurance through Heeseung, it drew guilt. Guilt for doubting your intentions, for believing that you could’ve been here to harm him. He felt so wronged for you, you must’ve been so angry at him. But still, you offered your help. Maybe he’d slip you into his nightly prayers, thanking the lord for gracing him with your presence. 

All the thoughts frozen when your hand touched the edge of his wing, his body electrified with a foreign feeling. No one else has ever touched his wings before, it was an action that was far too intimate to allow anyone else to try. 

He knew his wings were sensitive but he never knew they were this bad. His wing twitched under your touch, pushing itself closer to your hand. 

You watched in amazement as his wings awoke from their state, your touch bringing them to life. You never controlled his wings, the action far too cruel for even a demon to pull. 

You tested the touch again, pressing your palm flat against the parts that were attached to his spine. They fluttered again, a brighter light emitting from the edges, oh. His wings don’t always glow, they won’t glow when they’re being stimulated.

Your wing's nerves were linked to the ones that spread across your pelvis and down. You’d witnessed many demons talking about using it as a pleasurable advantage. Succubus was seen as a sex symbol, so obviously their experience matched the description. 

But you’d never gotten the chance to test the theory for yourself. Now that you have you weren’t sure if you’ll ever be able to stop. 

Without Heeseung’s knowledge, his cock jumped with each touch. It wasn’t that he was aroused, just overstimulated. He loud out a quiet whine, one that stopped as soon as it came. To you, he was so fucking pathetic. Whining after getting touched twice? But just as pathetic as he was, he was hypnotic. 

“Sh, I’m helping you in the best way I know.” You shushed his whines before you moved to stand in front of him, pressing your chest against his. Heeseung wasn’t sure what you were doing when you did that but then something surprising happened.

Your chest began letting out these small vibrations. Your eyes stared up into his whole you enhanced the force, your purrs reaching your throat. 

He was so pretty standing all pliant, unmoving as you controlled his body. The purrs came out of nowhere, the sudden affection catching you off guard. But you soon appreciated it, Heeseung deserved only the best.

It was at this moment that you decided that you wanted to keep him. There was no way in heaven or hell that you’d let anyone take him away from you, you’d let the world burn before a singular finger touched his- your- skin. From this second on he belonged to you, wholly and completely. 

You’d mark him after mating, your gums were already aching at the thought. As a demon, you could mate however many times you wanted. But you could only have one mate, your bite would solidify the union. 

But for now, you just returned your hands back to his wings. And as expected, he choked out another whimper, his mouth gaping open at the liquid heat gathering in his stomach. 

“Do you like it when I touch you like this?” Heeseung, thinking he was still sin-free, nodded his head. He adored it. 

You let out a cat-ish grin, your pointed canines poking from beneath your top lip. Heeseung knew of only two species who had pointed canines but only one had retractable ones. 

You were a demon. 

It didn’t scare him as much as he thought it would, but that doesn’t mean that he won’t say an extra prayer in the morning. 

And like always, you could tell that he had found out. “I’m a succubus, you summoned me.” Through Heeseung’s cloud of pleasure, he couldn’t make himself question you. Yeah sure, he totally summoned you. He’d believe anything you said as long as you keep making him feel like this.

His head flew back when your hand touched a specific spot on his wings, the only bare spot.

For both angels and demons alike there was a singular spot on the top corner of the right wing. It was bare of any feather, it was strictly skin. There was a small string of skin that held the strongest nerve in your entire body. 

The nerve was used for connections, it was what allowed them to converse with the wind. But it wasn’t until now that you both learned that it was much more because the second you touched it, you felt him.

You felt his every emotion, the warmth in his stomach, and the pounding of your cunt. 

It all happened too fast, gone before you could relish in it. But if you allowed it for now, there would be many other opportunities for you to test out the connection. 

After all, Heeseung would become yours for eternity. 

Your mouth widened in amazement as Heeseung came untouched, his mouth opening with zero sound coming out. You weren’t even sure if he knew what was happening, it made it all more enjoyable for you. 

“You came untouched?” It was a rhetorical question but still, Heeseung had no idea what you were talking about. All he knew was that there was a euphoric feeling rushing throughout his body, he’d never felt more alive than at this moment. 

All he wanted was to feel it again and again, uncaring about what you tabled it as. He didn’t know he could feel this good without sinning, he honestly couldn’t wait to tell his friends.

If only you could hear his thoughts, you’d bathe in them forever. It was cute how Heeseung thought that he was still sin-free, not knowing that he’d committed one of the worst ones yet.

The feeling faded away after a few more seconds, his mind clearing as his consciousness rushed back. He was now much more aware than before and finally noticed a new detail.

You noticed the way he was trying to look down and decided to be a bit kinder, allowing his head to move on its own. Heeseung didn’t seem to notice that he now had full control of his neck, all he saw was the giant wet patch on his bottoms. 

It was also now when he noticed he was crying, his tears making smaller marks around his wetness. 

“What is-“ He was cut off by your hand grabbing his chin, pulling his confused eyes away from his soiled pants. 

“I’ll make you a deal, hm?” Heeseung nodded through his crocodile tears, his puffy cheeks stained with his fallen tears. You gave Heeseung a small smile, making a point to soften your eyes to appear more trusting. 

“I’ll help you out if you promise to… I can’t say it, I know you’ll say no.” You knew how to play your cards with a man who was desperate enough to do anything. 

“Please, I’ll do anything!” Heeseung didn’t know a thing about being manipulated. It was a concept that didn’t exist in his world. Or maybe it did but was disguised as something much less sinister. 

“Do you promise?” A hiss. All it took for Heeseung to doubt himself once again was the small hiss that made its way through your throat. It sounded far less human than he was comfortable with, but he trusted you, did he not? 

The lord swore forgiveness to everyone who’s wronged him, why wouldn’t Heeseung do the same? 

“Anything, please I promise! J- just help me.” An angel's promise. It was the only thing you needed to know that you finally had him. 

The only other thing that every species knew about angels, was that they could never break a promise. It was the greatest sin of all, a betrayal that wasn’t worth forgiving. No one, not even the lord, forgave promises. It was the highest honour an angel could give, their promise. 

Heeseung knew that he couldn’t go back and undo what had been done, to take back the words that were spoken in a sense of urgency. And he didn’t really know if he wanted to, not when he was finally able to move his arms.

“Sit on the bed.” Heeseung’s legs moved under your command, the promise allowing you to control his every move. What he didn’t know was that you didn’t need his word to control him, it was part of your demon abilities. 

He had no choice but to comply with what you said, he wasn’t labelled heaven's highest angel for no reason. 

You weren’t completely sure where to start because usually you just did whatever you wanted, uncaring about the other person. All the other people who’d summoned you had already been asleep when you arrived and stayed asleep the entire time. Their mortal minds were far too weak to handle the pheromones releasing from your body, even the other supernatural species couldn’t handle it. 

“Mate me.” It was easier to get straight to the point, there was no need for any foreplay at this stage. The connection that you’d made with him was enough to prepare you for him, it was in your dna. 

Heeseung on the other hand, didn’t take it as well. He denied it right away, his head practically exploding at your words. Mate you? The lord would never forgive him, he’d be breaking his promise to him. 

Promise after promise, it was all Heeseung was good for. He’d promised his life away, his celibacy. He’d be banned from heaven, shunned of his wings. He’s already made the grave mistake of bringing you here, but this? This would cost him everything, his entire life. 

But still, you made him feel alive. You made him realize that he’d never felt anything before- not even joy. He’d been a cast of a person who he was forced to be, who even was he anyway?

A follower. And that’s all he’ll ever be for the rest of his life. He’s never hated anymore more than how much he hates you for making him come to terms with his life. 

It was his prayers that did this, why would the lord give you him if it wasn’t supposed to happen? You were supposed to be here, the lord approved of you. Why else would you come? It had to be what was happening, Heeseung was finally allowed a pass to be the person he’d locked away many lifetimes ago. 

But it stung, deep. His guilt came out in a wail of tears, angry fists banging against the bed beside him. His tormented thoughts roared with life, he was finally letting go. 

Fuck the commandments, fuck his promises, and he only hoped the lord would let him fuck you. 

And so with a wave of fresh tears and forgotten fears, he did what you said. He stood from his spot, your mind open and free of the handles you had strapped to his wrists. 

He’d pulled his pants down in one yank, his underwear pulling down with them. He wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he was alive. alive. Lee Heeseung was finally alive. 

The air smelt different, curtsey to your pheromones. Your hands felt rougher when they met his now bare chest, the bed feeling softer as his wings cushioned his fall. 

His head was clear when he felt your hand grab his cock, his heart void of guilt when he felt your mouth wrap around him.

But as the circle goes, it comes back around. 

Knowing that other men enjoyed thinking that they’re too big for you, you fake choked on him. Your eyes filled with fake tears as you pretended to gasp for air. Your chest heaved at an uncontrollable speed, fingers numbing at the thought of making him feel good.

Sex came naturally to Heeseung, which was something the two of you didn’t expect. His hands pulled your head back toward where he needed you the most, his thumb pulling your lips apart before he pushed you down to suction around him.

“God- you feel so fucking good.” He doesn’t even recognize himself anymore, his mind too full with the feeling of you to realize that he’d spoken the lord's name in vain. 

He wasn’t just betraying himself, he was giving up heaven. He'd give it away a million times more if it meant that he’d spent his life with you. Your name was the only one rushing from his mouth, the only one getting worshiped as your tongue wrapped around his bulbous tip. 

You used your tongue to trace circles around the small slit at the top of his cock, collecting everything he was giving to you. He tasted so sweet, nothing like anything you’ve tasted before. 

He didn’t warn you before filling your mouth, his amateur thrusts being overshadowed by your much more experienced lick.

You’d pulled away from him after holding him in your mouth, waiting to feel him soften before pulling him off. Heeseung’s head tilted to the side in confusion when you opened your mouth, sticking out your tongue. 

He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be seeing- oh…

You felt a surge of confidence rushes through your body at the feeling of him hardening against your hands. “Already? you’re so needy.” 

You rose to a stand, grabbing his hands to pull him to stand instead. All it took was a snap of fingers for your clothes to be gone, leaving you completely nude. 

Heeseung felt like every moment of his life had led up to this, you were his final destination. Without him noticing, he whispered one final prayer. Right when he went to recite the trinitarian formula, he noticed.  

Guilt was unforgiving but so was hesitation. He hesitated to give in earlier, but now? 

“Are you ready?” Heeseung didn’t recognize his voice anymore, a much deeper one coming out. His hands moved on their own when he pulled your legs around his waist, pushing his hips forward until his cock pressed against your lips. 

You nodded once, pushing your legs further apart as you waited for him to make the move. He looked down at you cunt in appreciation, the lord really did take his time creating you. It’s too bad that his favourite creation was going to ruin it.

Heeseung wrapped his hand around his base before giving an experimental squeeze. Heeseung had never touched himself before today, having no idea what was supposed to feel good. 

He ignored his embarrassing inexperience and used his other hand to open you up for him. His mouth watered at the sight of your bare in front of him, you looked so welcoming. 

He tried not to stare for too long because he knew that if he did he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from using his mouth first. But he’d much rather finish it all off by licking you clean, drinking everything you have to offer. 

He tapped the head of his cock against you, watching from under his eyebrows at how you reacted. From the way your hips pushed up, he knew exactly where to touch you. 

He kept his head pressed against you as he pushed down, stopping once he reached your entrance. This was the moment that would change his entire life, he was never going to be the same way he was before. 

And when he finally pushed in, his head fell forward with a loud moan. The blood of the virgin became the blood of the demon, he was no longer considered an angel in the lord's eyes. 

Your hands grabbed his biceps as he pushed in deep, his cock hitting places you’ve never felt before.  He sped up, his hips slamming against yours over and over as he grew into a routine. 

You obviously liked the way he was moving if your moans meant anything. 

“Bring me to heaven.” You managed to plead through your now real choked gasps. Your head was filled with explosions of colours, real pleasure rushing through your blood. His big cock felt too good pushing against your gummy walls, each curve of him fitting perfectly in your crevices. He was made for you. 

Heeseung sucked in a harsh breath, a teasing smile growing on his opened mouth. His eyes were now open, staring into your own as he ravished your body for what it was. 

“But you’re a demon, and we’re already here…” He let out a small grunt at his harder thrust, his eyes closing once again. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d reached this specific spot in your body, but he was certain that once he found it again he wouldn’t let it go. 

“Not that heaven-” your smile matched his as your body burned with the same flame, your impurities mixing with his. You shakily raised one of your hands up towards his face, your fingers wrapped around his jaw as you forced his face close to yours. 

His eyes opened once again, his irises now completely black as he let himself fall into the pit of pleasure. “Your heaven” Your back arched with a moan while your legs tightened around his waist.

Heeseung swore he was in love. With you, and the feeling of you. Nothing could turn him back now. He pulled your legs over his shoulder, his chest pushing away from yours as he pushed all his weight into his legs and hips. 

He pressed kiss after kiss against your ankles, biting down to create indents across your calves. He knew this angle hit deeper into you because finally, he felt that spot and and over.

Both your volumes rose into near screams when you both reached your peaks. Without thinking twice Heeseunf pressed your knees flat to your chest, his neck stretching out to bite against yours. 

Your blood filled his mouth 

Angels too sealed the mating process with a bite, but it was different. The magic was stored in each individual tooth. The pockets of their poison were located in their mamelons. And so when the angel bites into their mate, the pockets open into small needles. Three sharp needles accompanied each tooth, it was the only part of the tooth that got pushed through the skin. 

Heeseung wasn’t lying when he mentioned not craving blood, but now? His arms shook when had to pull himself away from you, the desire to drink from his new mate stronger than anything. “Thank god-“ He didn’t know what he was thanking anyone for, but he needed something to fall back on. It just happened to be the roots that caught him. 

Your broken moans were drowned out by your returning purrs, your eyes white as they rolled into the back of your head. Holy fucking shit, Heeseung marked you first?

Without allowing Heeseung to pull out you flipped him over, his back flat against the bed while you sat flush against him. He looked up through tired eyes, his mind coming back to normal as he softened inside of you. 

“Don’t thank god, he had nothing to do with this.” You growled at the angel before you released more pheromones. They seemed to do their job as he was hard again within seconds. 

You felt him throb inside of you before you rose the tiniest bit, dropping down right away.  Heeseung’s hands gripped your ass, helping your waist move forward and back with each raise and fall. 

His hips buckled to meet yours, loud slaps echoing across the room as you sunk into him over and over. Heeseung forced his head up enough to look at where the two of you were connected and god, the sight didn’t fail. 

There was a thick ring of cum formed around his base, sticky strings connecting the two of you with every new raise. He’d almost come on the spot once again, his body way more sensitive than yours due to his inexperience. 

You saw the way his face scrunched up and automatically knew that he was trying not to cum. You used your mental hold on him to remove his hands from you and pinned them by his head. 

His eyes were wide when they met yours again. He felt his heart stutter at the glare on your face. Has he done something wrong? Is he not pleasing you correctly? 

“Don’t keep anything away from me, give it all to me.” Your hips momentarily stopped, only his tip remaining in as you stared down at him. 

“Breed me.” Your quiet whisper caused an eruption of pleasure to burst through his chest. He had you lying back on your back in seconds, his instincts putting you into the mating press. 

“Don’t start what you can’t end.” He didn’t say more before he pushed into you once again. He leaned his head down to meet yours, his lips pulling your bottom one between his teeth.

He gently tugged at it once before he forced his tongue between your lips, your mouth tasting of his earlier release. “You don’t look like an angel,” He ignored the harsh look you threw at him, giving you a small smile before he pressed his lips against your pulse point. 

He breathed in a deep inhale, his body welcoming your new scent, one that was mixed with his. He bit the skin twice, the second much harder than the first before he soothed the wound with his tongue. 

He trailed small kisses up your neck, all the day until he reached your ear. He pulled your earlobe between his teeth before placing a gentle kiss against it. “But you definitely taste like one.”

[maidservant-hecubus]

My father is an Ashkenazi Jew. His parents were first generation Americans. Their parents escaped the pogroms in Russia and Ukraine and came to find their American dream. They fought in wars and opened businesses and assimilated and my generation barely has a few words of Yiddish between us. My mother is as much of a WASP as it gets. American Revolutionaries and Signers and some household name civil war feature players. Not old money, but old America and undoubtedly white. I'm patrilineal. Not a Jew to a lot of Jews. Not a Jew to a lot of my Jewish family. Even though i was raised Jewish. Even though I look like my father. Even though i got enough of something in my DNA to get asked "What are you?" more often than not. More often than I'm just accepted at face value as "white". When i was little we lived in an Irish Catholic neighborhood. Like the 5-10 kids in every family sort of Irish catholic neighborhood. The kids calling me a christ killer and refusing to play with me because they heard it from their parents sort of irish catholic neighborhood. For some reason my parents tried to send me to the catholic school down the street. I lasted less than a week because i didn't understand their rituals and their language and they found out my father was a Jew and they couldn't have a christ killer in their midst. I was just sad i didn't get to wear the cute plaid skirt anymore. So i went to the public school and my well meaning shiksa mother who never converted but learned the Chanukah prayers and helped cook Seder dinners came to the school to teach the class about Chanukah. She taught them songs and all the kids got dreidels and had so much fun spinning the top for chocolate coins. It was nice to feel normal. A few weeks later a boy in a higher grade attacked me on the way to the bus and smashed my art project (we had made pig noses from solo cups to celebrate reading charlotte's web) into my face and called me a filthy jew. I didn't understand, i was more upset to lose the project i was so proud of. Other things happened. Things I wont talk about because putting them in context would doxx me. But a million reminders that i wasn't one of them. I wasn't welcome because i was Jewish. My parents divorced. My mother left. Far away so I'd only see her a handful of times growing up. And I went to live with my Dad in a city that seemed like it was overflowing with Jews. Everyone knew my holidays! In public school the teachers looked like my family and had familiar sounding names. We had the high holy days off just like christmas or easter. We sang Chanukah songs in the winter recital and nobody's mom had to come teach them to the class. Finally I belonged! My friends and cousins started planning for their b mitzvah celebrations and i asked for my own. I asked to go to hebrew school so i could be more like the people i belonged with and celebrate the things i loved about myself and them. "But you're not jewish." My father would say. This was news to me. The christ killer. The filthy jew. But a 10 year old has little power over their lives. So i didn't go. I didn't have a bat mitzva while my cousins had theirs. It was okay because i still belonged more than i ever had. But i was still jewish enough to keep the holidays and pray and fast and get sent with a box of matzo to my WASP grandmothers for easter, and have matzo packed in my lunch to eat in AP algebra in 7th grade and get asked if I'm a "Yid" by the teacher. And still to this day not know if it was endearment or insult but by then I knew even in this magical city being a Jew wasn't always safe. in highschool I tried to take hebrew lessons with a friend in a similar situation as me. She was also hungry to reconnect. I don't remember why the classes or the friendship fell through, but they did. My next "friend", a goy raised catholic from another neighborhood, liked to accuse me of being money driven when i picked up a penny on the sidewalk or tried to ask who was going to pay for the zine's she wanted to publish.

 "What are you?" I'd get asked a lot on the street by curious strangers, "Where are you from?" "Are you Italian?" Always Italian. I never really understood that, but its become code in my head for "You look like you're white but something about you is very not white and I just can't place it, so Italian seems safe and polite." I'm not here to unpack the Italian part of all that. I don't even know what I'm unpacking for myself by writing this except I've been sick for days and I'm so tired and this is all that my foggy brain can wrap itself around. Later I'm an adult and on my own and getting bloodwork done. The Nurse is a black woman and so sweet to me. She can tell I'm nervous about the needles because I've already stumbled through my apologies for my herd to find veins. So she distracts me with small talk. Where do i live? I tell her. She looks worried for me. Tells me that it used to be a nice neighborhood before white people took it over and she warns me like she's my own mother to be careful because they aren't safe. I doublecheck the skin she's putting a needle into. Whatever she sees isn't white. I love her for it. For a moment I belong there with her. She doesn't ask what I am or where i'm from, but she knows what i'm not. I'm the only one keeping the holidays with my family. We celebrate Passover because I go home to my fathers and cook the dinner and print out the Haggadah and lead the Seder to the tune of my drunk catholic stepmother eating my food and telling me i'll never be a jew. She's more of a jew than I'll ever be because she grew up in a jewish neighborhood and her friends were all jews and she married a jew and i was just playing pretend. I stopped going home for holidays and they stopped observing anything except Christmas. I marry a goy. "Is he a jew?" is the first thing my father asks and he's disappointed when i say no. He's abusive, i run. I end up living in the attic of this older old money WASP couple who need a live in house sitter. They're pillars of their church and they know someone from the WASP side of my family very well and its a funny coincidence and they think i belong there. I know from their divest from Israel bumper stickers that i don't. Then they find out I consider myself Jewish and i see the light in their eyes die and its replaced by something hard and disappointed. Now, while writing this, i can laugh about being the jew in someone's attic. But then, it was only a few months after that they started coming up with excuses for why I needed to move out. I did, their excuses never manifested into reality. I got married again. A jew this time! a Jewish medical professional liek grandma always wanted. She's a convert and her ex was a rabbinical student. I think maybe i'm home finally. She has to understand. I'm not Jewish enough for her. We don't keep holidays at home because i'm not a jew. I cry every year when pesach comes and goes and i haven't recited the plagues or eaten matzo piled high with horseradish. She insists on putting up a christmas tree. She turns abusive. I run.

I'm alone now and no longer in that magic jewish city. I'm far away and surrounded by mega churches and cows and the bagels suck and people quote the bible at me like some call and response that i don't have the cheat code for and I don't belong here at all but i'm finally finally free to light my menorah and recite the plagues and study torah with the group i found here on tumblr who love and accept me even though i'm patrilineal. Oct. 7th happened a few weeks after I moved here. I worry about my family back home and i think no one will look for Jews here among the cows and mega churches, so I can be a safe place for them to run if things get bad again. But i still don't fit in here. I don't look right. The last name I have now is common here and too white for whatever people see when they look in my face. I get interrogated about it a lot. But i learned quickly how to smile and say "have a blessed day". I hide my menorah when maintenance comes to work on my apartment. I flew home last month. Just for a visit. I've never been away from home this far or this long. And I'm the type that covers nerves and anxiety with chattiness, so at the airport i made a for-now-friend while we both waited for the plane to board. She's Puerto Rican. We talk about our lives. Our families. Her twin sister and i go by the same nickname and so we're family now. We talk about food. So much food and how much we love cooking and how important food was at home. "Are you Italian?" she asks as we're stepping through the hatch into the plane. Why always Italian? I wonder for the millionth time in my life. And I freeze up for a moment between fighting my carry-on over the gap and terror that I'm about to see the light go out behind her eyes and i'll lose this for-now friend. "No," i laugh but its not a real laugh and i see the concern in her face as we squeeze through the aisle because she can hear the apprehension in my voice, "I'm Jewish." And something strange happened because her face lit up and she smiled and said "No way?! You guys have GREAT food!"

[persevereforahappyending]

A Legacies Secret |10|

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: You just wanted a happy life with your girlfriend but then Ghostface attacks, revealing long thought to be buried family secrets.

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 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

You rolled your head to the side, groaning as you slowly came to. You tried lifting your hand to your head, but your arm got caught on something. You groaned again and slowly opened your eyes. Your eyes instantly snapped shut when they were met with a harsh light. You brought your other hand to your head, trying to cover your eyes and ease the pounding in your head. 

You heard a click and slowly brought your hand away, deciding to try opening your eyes again. You let out a sigh when you were met with a dark room. “You were hit pretty hard,” someone said. You tried placing the voice, but you couldn’t focus and thinking hurt too much. “You might be sensitive to light for a bit.” 

“What happened?” You rasped out. You blinked your eyes a few times, finally taking in the pale walls and lack of décor, not that you could judge, your place was rather empty. You ran your arms across what was beneath you, feeling the scratchy fabric, your bed was certainly softer than this one.

“You don’t remember?” A voice asked, one that sounded oddly like Sam. 

You winced as you turned your head, even the smallest movement seemed to make the pounding worse. When the pain eased back down to what it was when you woke up you opened your eyes, seeing Sam in the corner of the room. That’s when you realized the room you were in was similar to Tara’s, but this wasn’t Tara’s room, that meant you were in the hospital. 

“Why am I not dead?” You asked, easing yourself back down onto the pillow, sitting up was too much. 

“So, you do remember,” Sam said. 

You wanted to glare at Sam, but you could only manage a groan, though you were pretty sure it came out more like a whine. “I left Mindys after you all accused me of murder.” You closed your eyes trying to think back. “I called Tara.” Everything was just so fuzzy; it was like you were fighting with yourself to fill in gaps and give shadowy figures a form. “Then…” your eyes snapped open; your heart suddenly felt like it was going to beat out of your chest. “Ghostface,” you whispered. “Why am I still alive?” You asked again. 

“That’s a good question,” Judy said, opening the door, followed by Dewey. You winced when they let the door swing closed just a bit to loudly. “One I would love to get an answer to.” 

“Couldn’t wait five minutes,” someone snapped. You glanced to the other side of the room to see a woman you had only ever seen on the TV screen, Gale Weathers. “They literally just woke up.” 

“I have a case to solve,” Judy snapped, giving Gale her special passive aggressive smile. “Three attacks and one dead body, all within the last three days.” 

“Enough,” Dewey said tiredly, stepping between the two women. “Let’s focus on what’s actually important right now.” 

Gale and Judy, both gave each other tight lipped smiles before Judy turned her attention back to you. “How about you just tell me what happened,” she said, sounding much kinder than when she had stormed into the room. 

You let out a sigh, you had a feeling you’d be repeating yourself more than once. “I was at Chad and Mindy’s with everyone else,” you began to explain again. “After they all accused me of murder I left.” Judy wrote down stuff in her notepad, occasionally glancing up at you. “I went back to my place, intending to shower before coming back here.” 

“Then what happened?” 

You shrugged, explaining everything to Judy and trying to remember what happened was making the pounding in your head louder. “I went to the kitchen and then I heard a noise…” you closed your eyes, trying to make the memory clearer. “The door was open. I know I closed the door,” you whispered. “I went to check it out and…” 

“And that’s when Ghostface attacked?” 

“No,” you shook your head. 

“No?” Everyone in the room furrowed their brow. 

“He was already there,” you whispered. “I don’t know how or when but when I turned around, he was right there.” 

“Anything else?” Judy asked softly. 

You began to shake your head but stopped when something else came back to you. “Someone called me,” you furrowed your brow, you still didn’t know who. 

“Ghostface?” 

You shrugged. “I didn’t answer, didn’t recognize the number.” 

“Well, we can take your phone and trace the number. It’s a long shot but maybe-” 

“Don’t bother,” Gale said, interrupting the sheriff. 

“I know you’re a hot shot reporter, but this is how real police work is done.” Judy placed her hands on her hips, glaring sweetly at Gale. 

“I mean,” Gale snapped, before taking a deep breath to calm back down. “I know whose number it was. It was mine.” 

“You were calling her?” Sam asked, pointing at you. 

Now you were even more confused, you didn’t know why Gale Weathers would call you, you didn’t even know Gale Weathers. You weren’t sure how Gale would have even gotten your number, if she asked anyone for it then they could have just called you themselves. 

“How do you two know each other?” Judy asked, gesturing between you and Gale. Her eyes lingered on you for a split second, a new hint of suspicion in her gaze. 

“We don’t,” you said quickly. “Why would you call me?” You looked up at Gale. You tilted your head, everything you had heard about Gale was that she was a headstrong reporter and didn’t let anything get in her way. Gale was refusing to look directly at you, she wouldn’t even meet your eyes for half a second. 

“I got sent this,” Gale whispered, handing her phone over to Judy. 

Judy tapped the screen on the phone then whatever she saw made her eyes widen. She held the phone out for you to see it. You furrowed your brow at first, it was just a picture of a mailbox with a knife scratching the surface. Your eyes widened when you saw the name on the mailbox, it was your name, it was taken before Ghostface got in your apartment. 

“As soon as I realized you were in danger,” Gale whispered, flicking a glance at you but quickly dropped her eyes back to the floor. “I reacted, called you, called the sheriff,” she pointed at Judy. “And then we just raced our way to your place.” 

You continued to look at Gale, she still hadn’t fully answered the question, you were just as confused as before. “Why would Ghostface send you a picture like that?” Dewey asked. You felt better, looking around and seeing everyone just as confused as you were. 

Before Gale could explain herself, a ring erupted, making everyone in the room jump. You winced; you weren’t sure if the ringing was unnaturally loud or if your head just couldn’t handle it at the moment. You looked around, waiting for someone to answer their phone but as everyone pulled out their phone, they looked at it with furrowed brows. You saw Judy’s eyes land on something on the table beside you, when you followed her gaze, you saw your phone sitting there. 

You hesitantly picked up the phone, seeing ‘Unkown’ on the screen as the ringing continued. You sucked in a breath as you swiped your finger across the screen, quickly putting the call on speaker. 

“Hello?” you asked, holding your breath as you waited for the voice changer you knew would be on the other in. 

“Hello Y/N,” Ghostface’s voice crackled through the phone. “I’m sorry our time together got interrupted, I had so many plans for you.” You could practically hear Ghostface smiling on the other end. “Don’t worry, our fun is just getting started. I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to congratulate a family reuniting.” 

“Family?” You scrunched your eyebrows, looking up to see everyone else with the same look, everyone besides Gale, Gale continued to stare down at the phone, tears beginning to fill her eyes. “What the hell are you talking about?” 

Ghostface let out what sounded like an exasperated sigh. “Guess we know why they asked you to step down deputy Dewey,” Ghostface let out a light chuckle. “You didn’t even know when your own wife was keeping secrets from you.” Dewey looked at Gale questioningly, but she refused to look at him or anyone else. 

“Okay that’s enough,” Gale snapped, snatching the phone from your hand. 

“Gale Weathers,” Ghostface sighed. It was hard to decipher with the voice changer, but it almost sounded like there was admiration in their voice. “I’m a big fan.” 

“Yeah? Wish I could say the same.” 

“I even followed in your footsteps,” Ghostface ignored Gale’s comment. “Found a story and dug and dug until finally, I found your daughter.” 

“Daughter?” Dewey asked. He barked out a laugh. “My wife doesn’t have a daughter.” 

“I probably wouldn’t acknowledge them either,” Ghostface sighed, as if they understood the struggles Dewey was going through. “I can’t imagine the disappointment when you look at them, knowing you’ve arrested them.” 

“What the hell are you talking about?” you snapped. 

There was only another light chuckle on the other end before Ghostface hung up. “What the hell was that about?” Dewey asked, looking at Gale but she refused to look at him. 

“This is what Ghostface does,” Judy said, trying to calm everyone down. “He plays mind games; we all know this.” She was saying the words, but it sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than anyone. 

“Why would Ghostface lie about this?” you asked, shaking your head. Attacking your abandonment issues was an obvious choice, you just didn’t know why Ghostface would imply you were related to Dewey and Gale, you didn’t even know Gale and Dewey was just the cop that arrested you, it didn’t make any sense.” 

“It’s not a lie,” Gale whispered. You snapped your eyes to her; she had her arms crossed and was looking down at the floor. 

“What?” Dewey asked, shaking his head. “It’s impossible!” 

“It was 1999,” Gale began. “We had just broken up,” she looked up at Dewey, tears filled her eyes but didn’t fall. “I had just moved to New York when I found out, had gotten my dream job.” 

Dewey shook his head. “No,” he whispered. “You would have told me.” 

“I’m sorry,” she sniffled. “I didn’t know how.” she shook her head; she moved her hand as if she was about to reach out to Dewey but dropped it. “We didn’t exactly end on good terms, I didn’t know what I was going to do, I thought about getting rid of it.” You felt a pang in your chest, you were barely processing what was being said but you certainly felt that. “But I couldn’t.” 

“You were on TV,” Dewey continued to shake his head. “I would have seen; I would have noticed.” 

“Sitting at a table with the right height, wearing the right clothes,” Gale said softly. “It wasn’t hard to hide.”  Tears filled Dewey’s own eyes; you were practically watching his heart shatter in front of you. “I knew I couldn’t raise a child, I would have been a terrible mother,” she finally glanced over at you. “And I didn’t know how to tell you,” she looked back at Dewey. “But I wanted you to be close, so I came back to town and...” 

“They said I was left at the hospital,” you whispered emotionlessly. 

“It’s a small town, I couldn’t risk anyone seeing me,” Gale said, you could see the guilt in her eyes. “I’m sorry.” 

“We were together,” Dewey whispered. “We lived here, we got married,” his voice slowly raised. 

“I couldn’t take back my choice, it was already done,” Gale shook her head. “No matter how much I wanted to.” 

“You were here the whole time,” you whispered. You weren’t even looking at Gale or Dewey anymore. You could only stare at the blank wall in front of you as your entire life flashed through your eyes, you were abandoned outside a hospital, you never knew your parents, and now, your parents had been in town while you were growing up, they had been married, they had been happy, and you had never been good enough for them. 

“If I could take it all back,” Gale’s voice cut through your internal spiraling. “I would, I-” 

Your eyes snapped to Gale. “Get out,” you said, your voice steadier than ever. 

“I’m sorry,” Gale’s tears began to fall. “I-” 

“Get the fuck out!” You were only vaguely aware of Dewey storming out of the room, slamming the door closed behind him. You didn’t care if it was because he actually decided to listen to you or he just needed time to himself. 

“I never wanted you to be dragged into this mess-” 

“Sheriff, can you kindly escort her the fuck out!” you didn’t mean to snap at Judy, you knew she had nothing to do with this. 

“Let’s go,” Judy said, stepping in front of Gale and blocking your line sight of her. “Now,” she pointed. Eventually, Gale listened and Judy followed her out of the room. 

You tried to blink away the tears that had begun to form, you couldn’t deal with all this shit right now, there were more important matters at hand. 

“Ar-are you okay?” Sam asked, breaking the silence. She had been so quiet you had actually forgotten she was there. You couldn’t help but let out a humorless chuckle. “Right, stupid question,” she mumbled to herself, you weren’t even sure why she was still there. 

There was a soft knock at the door, making you and Sam look up. “Hey,” Liv said, popping her head around the door as she cracked it open. “We wanted to check on you.” she opened the door the rest of the way so you could see she was followed by all of Tara’s friends. 

Your eyes lingered on Wes as he entered last, your mind going back to Ghostface’s call, when he had called Dewey deputy. Wes had also called Dewey deputy when they were going over suspects, but Dewey was the sheriff when all of you were growing up. You didn’t want to suspect Wes but couldn’t help it, it was beginning to make sense. Wes had a crush on Tara, you were dating Tara, so the best person to take out or make look guilty would be you. Wes’s mom was also the sheriff, Wes had access to things most people wouldn’t, he was also smart, Ghostface had said they followed Gale’s path and investigated, that’s how they learned about you. 

“How are you feeling?” Liv asked, resting a hand on your shoulder. 

“Been better,” you mumbled. 

“Did we miss something?’ Liv looked from you to Sam. 

“Yeah,” Amber chuckled. “Never thought I’d see the day Gale Weathers was escorted out of a building by Judy Hicks.” 

You tensed up at Gale’s name leaving Amber’s mouth. “What’s going on?” Liv asked again, she looked down at you worriedly, she probably could feel how tense you were. 

“Ghostface called,” Sam said softly. “And he revealed,” her eyes darted to you. “He-” 

“Gale fucking Weathers is my mother,” you cut her off, letting out a humorless chuckle. 

“What?” Liv asked, her eyes snapping to you. 

“A Dewey is...” you shook your head unable to finish the sentence. 

“Are you-How are you-I-” Liv couldn’t finish any of the sentences she started but you felt her give your shoulder a comforting squeeze. 

“Holy shit,” Mindy whispered. Her eyes were wide as she stared right at you. “Well, this just makes you even more of a suspect.” Your eyes snapped up to Mindy, glaring at her. 

“What the hell Mindy,” Liv snapped. 

“She’s the love interest of the first victim,” Mindy gestured to you. “Now we find out she’s also the daughter of not one but two of the legacy characters? Who she was abandoned by.” 

“Fuck you,” you said coldly. 

“I’m just saying, out of everyone with a motive-” 

“Read the fucking room,” Liv snapped. 

“Get the fuck out,” you said, continuing to glare at Mindy. 

Mindy opened her mouth to say something else, but before she could Chad grabbed her and pulled her out the door, Wes and Amber quickly following them. “I...” Liv whispered. “I’m sorry.” you looked up at her, your gaze softening. “I’m here, whatever you need.” 

“Thanks,” you whispered and attempted to give her a small smile. “I think I just want to be alone right now.” Liv nodded and gave your shoulder one more squeeze before making her way out of the room. 

You sat in silence for a few minutes, staring down at the cheap blanket over you. “What do you want Sam?” you asked. She was the only one who had yet to leave you. 

“I want you to stay away from Tara,” Sam said, her voice was soft but serious. Your head instantly snapped towards her. “You’re a target, just as much as me.” 

“You can’t be serious.” 

“You’ll just put her in more danger.” 

You glared at her, ignoring the tears filling your eyes. “Fuck you,” you whispered, though it was much less harsh than anyone else you said it to. 

Sam gave you a sad smile and left without another word, gently closing the door behind her. You tried blinking away the tears, but they fell anyway. Sam’s words replayed in your mind, you knew she was right, you were the reason Tara got attacked. Tara would be much safer without you around; you would only hurt her in the long run. Maybe if you had never gotten to know Tara Ghostface wouldn’t have attacked her, maybe they would have only targeted you. You knew that was illogical considering her sister was the daughter of Billy Loomis, but you still couldn’t help but wonder how much better Tara’s life would be without you in it. 

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 10 || The Hallway Incident

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language & fluff.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 3.2k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——THE GENTLE SOUND OF YOUR heel tapping against the ground due to the constant bobbing of your leg as your anxiety builds up inside can be heard beneath the sounds of Nanami and Toji engaging in conversation.

You've been waiting for about six minutes now, having watched every second of the nearby clock tick, and your nerves are all bundled up. In the time that they've been talking, you've mentally rehearsed a plan for yourself.

You're going to ask Toji for private lessons.

And no, not in a naughty kind of way. At least, not yet. But for the purpose of one, having an excuse to attend class with Gojo every Monday to really dedicate yourself to the lie you've given and two, to have one-on-one moments with Toji.

Is any of this going to work? Probably not.

The worst case scenario is that this all goes to shit and Toji rejects any advance you make at him, resulting in Gojo posting those videos of you. Great.

You draw your hand up to your face and begin to chew on your thumbnail as you wait, simply watching the two talk for a few more minutes until Nanami finally leaves.

When he does, you watch him walk away almost in a trance. He's got one hell of a back profile. Similar to Toji, the dress shirt that Nanami had did little to nothing to conceal the toned body that lay underneath.

You never used to undress people with your eyes like this before but then again, you never used to see this many attractive people at once.

The little trance you were in is broken when Toji suddenly snaps his fingers in front of your face, causing you to jump and turn your head to him. You hadn't even realized that he sat back down at his desk.

"S-Sorry Mr. Fushiguro." You apologize as you make eye contact with the man.

"You're fine," He says, his expression void of any real reaction to the way he saw you gawking at his student. "Now," Toji leans back in his chair, a slight creak heard as he does so, "Where were we?"

"Uhh..." You awkwardly straighten up in your seat, "I was telling you about the project I had for my sociology class."

"Right." He nods, "Well, I don't mind you coming to my class for a few weeks for this project of yours, just don't be a disruption."

"I won't sir." You hum.

The gentleness in your tone makes the older man shift in his seat a little. "Good. Anything else?" Toji questions, tipping his head to the side.

"W-Well, I was wondering if I could stay after the lecture as well."

"For?"

"Y'know, like, a more..." You look down at your lap. The eye contact was growing overwhelming. "In-depth lesson?"

The older man falls quiet for a second. Then, startling you, he chuckles at how fidgety and nervous you seem to be about your request. "You're not in any of my classes and yet you want a lesson from me? A private one at that?" He emphasizes.

You swallow hard and look back up at him, "Yes sir."

Toji folds his arms, the large muscles in his arms unintentionally bulging against the fabric of his shirt. "What is there for me to teach ya' privately that you wouldn't learn during the lectures?" He asks.

"Well..." Think, think, think, think, think.... "Students aren't the only people I have to study for this project. As a professor, you'd be a great example to use for how topics, such as economics, affect people in education." You manage.

He scoffs lightly, "So, basically, you want to study me after class?"

You wince a little at his words, "Study isn't really the word I'd use for it. Think of it more like an interview."

"An interview?"

You cross one of your legs over the other, "Yes sir."

He takes a long pause, simply staring at you in thought. Once he comes to a decision, Toji agrees with a nod and a shrug of his broad shoulders. "Alright. Every Monday then, I'll expect to see you during and after class. When's this little project of yours due?"

"Six weeks from now." That should be enough time for you to... seduce him, right?

Toji's eyebrows raise slightly, "Six weeks? Damn, must be some project."

"It's my final project, sir." You clarify.

He clicks his tongue and you watch the corner of his lips raise into a little smirk, "So your final grade will be riding on me then?"

Well technically you riding on him is more of the goal here but, there's no need for you to say that aloud.

You smile, "Yup."

"M'kay, cya next week then," Toji says dismissively. You give him a nod and both of you stand at the same time. He walks you over to his door and adds a simple, "I look forward to workin' with ya', kid."

His last word makes you halt. Slowly, you turn only your head back to him with a graceful smile on your face, "With all due respect, sir, I'm a grown woman. Please don't call me kid." You request.

With your head angled back to him, you notice that he's rather close to you. One of his hands was placed on his classroom door and the other was tucked into the pocket of his pants. His closeness causes whatever, obviously cheap, but rather pleasant-smelling cologne to run through your nose.

Toji tilts his head as he looks down at you, "Yes ma'am. My bad, it's a bit of a habit of mine."

The change in the way he addressed you has your heart feeling a little weird. It has to be that deep voice of his, the damn thing is intoxicating.

"You should get rid of it," You blurt out, referring to that habit of his.

An amused smirk spreads across his face. You didn't know it but, he found this one interaction with you slightly attractive. "I'll work on it." Toji hums casually.

You give him an approving nod and then turn away. His eyes follow you as you enter the mildly busy hallway and after you disappear from his sight, he sighs heavily.

You definitely made a decent first impression on him.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

As you rush down the hallway, you're lost in your head thinking about how you're going to pull this off for the next few weeks.

Subtly flirting and throwing small hints at him sound like your best options. Being straight up would be dangerous. You'll have to flirt and pretend like you aren't aware you're flirting-- 'innocently' making your way to what lies beneath his clothes.

You hope it works too. And while you're on that thought, you have to ask Gojo how difficult he thinks this will be for you. God, you hate that man. You don't want to talk to him about anything but you're forced to anyway-

You run right into someone in the hallway.

A phone drops and the binders and books you held make contact with the floor. "Shit," You curse, instantly crouching down to pick up the fallen items.

The person you ran into crouches down too, "Sorry," They apologize, even though you both ran into each other.

You go for the phone and motion the device toward the person, raising your head from the fallen items and meeting a new pair of eyes.

Holy fucking shit. It's another one. Another guy from the list.

And this one is... Well, if not for you picking Geto, this guy would've been your next choice.

Deep sangria-colored irises peer into yours, the shade veering more into the brown spectrum, and oddly attractive eyebags circle the male's eyes. There's a dark black tattoo running across the bridge of his nose and his hair is styled up in two messy ponytails.

You think your heart skipped a beat as you made eye contact with him. Hell, maybe it skipped a few beats-- maybe it stopped working for a second.

His face alone was tantalizing. The man was attractive in a way that made you unable to pry your eyes off him.

You think you flinch when he leans closer to you and tilts his head in concern, "You alright?"

Dazed by his caring voice and mesmerizing eyes, you nod your head. "Y-Yeah." You sigh.

You watch as the man looks down at your lips for a second, then right back up to your eyes as if he didn't mean to glance. The two of you grab all of the fallen items and stand up in sync. You extend your hand out, holding his phone and trying to give it back to him.

"Sorry for running into you," He apologizes again while taking his phone from you.

In return, he hands one of the items of yours he picked up back to you. "You're fine, I should've been watching where I was going."

He shrugs it off and his eyes drop down to the floor for a second before he speaks, "Me too. Also, I like your shoes."

You mimic his motion and look down at your feet, almost as if you'd forgotten what you were wearing. "Thank you," You reply as you look back up to the man.

If there's one thing they all have in common aside from being hot, it's the fact that they're all taller than you. It's something you mentally note as this man stands in front of you.

You smile and make a gesture to his face, "Nice tatt." You compliment simply.

His lips curve into a slight smirk, "Thanks, I did it myself."

"Really?" Your brows raise in surprise.

"Yup."

"Fuck, that's cool. Did it hurt?" You ask curiously, unintentionally leaning forward a little to get a closer look.

He shrugs, "Nah, not really."

You examine it for a second, only growing more and more impressed. "It's like, a perfectly straight line. Are you an art major by any chance?"

"Graphic design." He clarifies, "What about you?"

You shrug casually, "Psycology."

The male's head tilts to the side as he peers down at you, you can tell he's impressed. "Shit, psycology?" His head cocks back a little and he smirks, "That's hot."

"Hot?" You blindly repeat, chuckling at him. "It's just the study of behavior and mind, nothing special honestly."

He scoffs, "I'm pretty sure it's much deeper than that."

"It is but, it's more confusing than hot." You argue.

Your conversation with him is oddly seamless. He's now grinning at you, "The fact that it's confusing and you're still choosing to study it makes it hot."

"So, are you calling me or the major itself hot?" You ask teasingly.

He shamelessly looks you up and down and licks his lips before saying, "Both." He hums.

Your face grows a little warm. "Thanks, you too."

"You think I'm hot?"

"No, I think your major's hot." You utter sarcastically.

He laughs, "Yeah? You think graphic design is hot?"

"Mhm." You hum, "I mean, yeah, you're attractive but when you add on the fact that you're an artist? That multiplies it."

"Really?"

"Yup."

"On that note, you wanna see some of my work?" The man offers surprisingly.

"Yes please." You say with excitement in your voice.

Talking with this man in the middle of the hallway was by far the most refreshing thing you'd experienced within the last six days.

He chuckles and his thumb swipes through his phone for a second. When he finds whatever it is he wants to show you, he motions for you to come closer to him and you do.

Standing by his side and leaning over toward his phone, you see beautiful images of dark-colored designs that are nearly impossible to put into one word.

His art looks like... himself? It's almost as though he put his whole aesthetic onto a piece of paper. You catch shades of black, purple, and red ink swirled together in multiple different designs.

"Holy shit," You breathe out.

He chuckles at your reaction, "I've had a bit of art block recently but uh..."

As he trails off, you turn your head to look at him and notice that your faces are closer than you expected. Neither of you move but the eye contact held is almost intimate.

His voice drops lower and his gaze is unwavering, "I think I just found my new muse."

Heat rushes to your face as you grow flustered. By no means was he referring to you, right?

"R-Really?" You stammer.

His gaze dips lower, focusing on the curve of your lips, "Yeah," He hums.

The two of you lose yourselves in each other's presence for a moment. You nearly forgot about... well, everything for a second.

The male was enamored by you. You were just some random girl he ran into and yet he couldn't take his eyes off you. As for you, well, it's simple to say that you were just as infatuated. His face was so close, so flawless, and yet so mysterious.

You clear your throat and both of you snap out of the little trance you'd been in. Then, the two of you turn away from each other, clearly equally flustered by the closeness and lack of words.

"U-Uhm, your art is b-beautiful by the way." You stutter, physically cringing at the way you're tripping over your words.

You haven't been this nervous in a long time. This is worse than Toji, worse than Geto, and even worse than Gojo. Your heart is a pounding mess and you feel like a high school girl with a crush all over again.

"Th-Thanks," The man beside you chokes out.

A sense of comfort washes over you as you realize you're not the only one whose nerves are bundled up.

He suddenly clears his throat, "Well uh, I should uhm, probably get going."

You turn to look at him, "Right. Sorry for running into you again."

"No, don't apologize. I'm actually glad you did." He says, avoiding looking you in the eyes but smiling a little bit.

"Think I can get your name before you go?" You question shyly.

His gaze meets your face, still looking everywhere except for your eyes. "Choso. Kamo Choso, but you can just call me Choso." He tells you.

You stick a hand out for him to shake and give him your name in return. As his hand meets yours, you notice the slight claminess of his palms-- he was sweating... how cute.

Again, he clears his throat. "Since we're exchanging names, can I get your number too? I doubt we'll run into each other much since we have two entirely different majors..." Choso requests.

You're quick to nod and it's in a matter of seconds that the two of you exchange contact information with one another.

"It was nice meeting you, Choso." You voice out softly.

He nods his head, "Yeah, it was nice meeting you too."

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Alright, so today was an absolute rollercoaster.

From that morning being all lovey-dovey with Gojo, to hating him all over again, to meeting his stupidly sexy professor, to catching a glimpse of the stoic blond, and all the way to having an airy almost whimsical conversation with Choso.

What a day.

Seriously, what a day. Talking to Choso was so different. It didn't feel like you were talking to a target, it didn't feel forced or uncomfortable. Talking to Choso was the most pleasant thing ever.

As you made your way off-campus, your head was in the clouds-- filled with thoughts of the mysteriously artistic man you just had a conversation with. He was different, you could feel it.

You find yourself smiling at the little still moment the two of you had, how innocent it was, and how comfortable you felt. There's a sudden thump in your heart that makes your thoughts freeze.

Shit, the one thing you're not supposed to be doing. The one unspoken rule you'd set for yourself. You're breaking it already. You hardly know the man and you're breaking the single stipulation you'd put on yourself.

No feelings.

It's a simple rule. A needed rule. You can't go around sleeping with different men and fall for one at the same time. That'll never work out.

Imagine the look of disgust on their face when they find out they were just a name you needed to cross off. Hell no, the last thing you want to do is fuck with anyone's heartstrings-- including your own.

But...

Choso was so-

No. Stop it. You think to yourself. You nearly thought the same things about Gojo and look where that got you? In no way can you come out of this situation happy with any of the men involved.

This is just a one-and-done situation. No special cases.

Your goal is to seduce not swoon.

That's all your purpose consists of-- being a little whore for Gojo Satoru. As annoying as it is to come to terms with, that's exactly what your job is here. Fuck people, get paid. Nothing more, and nothing less.

No one becomes the exception. Under no circumstances do you allow anyone to fall for you; nor do you fall for anyone.

The smiles, the laughs, the ticklish feeling you get in your chest-- it all needs to be fake. Those special and cherishable feelings need to forever remain fake.

The second any of those emotions transfer into something real, everything will go to shit.

No relationships.

No feelings.

No romance.

Just sex.

You need to lock those words into your brain for the remainder of this list. Relationships would ruin things, feelings complicate people, romance will never work out, and sex is the only thing you need to focus on achieving.

You're not Gojo so you don't have plans on manipulating people. You simply want to be freed of the grasp he has on you and the only way to do that is by completing this stupid list.

As you made your way home, you thought long and hard about who you would go for first based on the three new people you met.

Toji would be a slow process since you gave yourself six weeks to figure him out. Nanami is a walking question mark since you have literally nothing to go on. And Choso seems all too sweet for you to think about seducing him just yet.

Based on that, you decide that Toji will be your biggest focus for the time being-- unless you spontaneously run into one of the remaining two unidentified people on the list.

With that being the most unlikely thing to happen given how lucky you got today, you end up organizing the list in a journal of yours at home. You'll put them into your own order and check them off as you go.

Yeah, you'll get through this.

...Right?

GOJO SATORU ✔︎

GETO SUGURU ✔︎

TOJI FUSHIGURO ☐

KAMO CHOSO ☐

NANAMI KENTO ☐

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

[maya1525]

SUCK ~ & ~ F*CK 😋🍾

✩ Featuring Toge Inumaki & Yuuta Okkotsu ✩

18+MDNI

Pairing✩࿐Fem!Reader X Toge Inumaki & Yuuta Okkotsu

WARNINGS✩࿐Fem!Reader giving oral, unprotected vaginal sex, cream pie, sex in front of others, language, rough sex, group sex, double penetration in pussy

Word count✩࿐2.1k

Summary✩࿐This is based on my original post: SUCK ~ GUESS ~ F*CK. But you know ahead of time whose dick is in your slutty mouth. Inumaki drew 2 of Diamonds♦️ and Yuuta drew 2 of Hearts♥️

A/N✩࿐Fem!Reader X Toge & Yuuta will always be my favorite grouping. Both of these men have a special spot in my heart 💜 I felt inspired to have them share the readers kitty cat due to (my own similar experience). 🤪 Feedback is highly appreciated, I love reading your comments! 😙💖

“The game is quite simple.” Gojo stated in a matter-of-fact tone, “You’re going to be blindfolded and will have to guess which man's dick is in your mouth. If you guess incorrectly, the man gets to choose which position to fuck you in. If you guess correctly, then you get to choose the position. To keep things interesting, you’ll suck dick for three minutes and get fucked for seven.”

You nodded your understanding as you sat on the large and cushy futon in Gojo’s apartment. He had planned on fucking you alone tonight, but your boyfriends wanted in on the action, plus they thought it would be a good idea to invite two of their friends, Mechamaru and Noritoshi.

You felt your cheeks warm up with excitement, never in your life, you’ve felt so deeply desired before. Everyone’s eyes were on you, especially because you wore a revealing teddy one-piece. Satoru bought it for you, and it complimented your figure perfectly. He even put a stunning custom collar on you, with a diamond-covered ‘S’ on it.

You couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed to be this exposed in front of Noritoshi and Mechamaru. You were familiar with both of these men, but you were still getting used to human Mechamaru. Muta was on the leaner side compared to your boyfriends, he had sharp features and a large and noticeable scar on his upper cheek. While Kamo on the other hand always seemed like a strong and serious leader among his comrades. The thought that he yearned for you just as much as your boyfriends made you wonder what he would be like when he fucked you. The thought made you anticipate his turn.

While you thought about those two men, your eyes were subconsciously drawn to both of them. Noritoshi sat on the far side of the sectional, his heated gaze stared you down hungrily. Beside him sat your boyfriend Megumi with a starved look in his midnight blue eyes. Next sat Itadori, he eyed you with such desperation, that it looked as if he was going to jump off the couch any second to get to you. Next to him sat Satoru smugly, his eyes gleamed playfully in your direction. Beside him was Muta, he eyed shyly with a faint blush on his face. To his left sat Yuuta and Inumaki, Toge was leaning into the couch comfortably, his violet-colored eyes sparkling over your stunning body with admiration and Yuuta had a similar look of awe on his face.

“Ok Y/n, I’m going to put this on you if you’re ready,” Satoru murmured, his gorgeous blue eyes gleaming down at you, while he wrapped his black blindfold around your eyes.

You were shocked at how you couldn’t even see small streams of light through it. You had always assumed that it was sheer fabric and that Gojo could slightly see through it, but you were mistaken. Satoru’s amazing Six Eyes technique is one to behold, he certainly is the strongest jujitsu sorcerer.

“OK, now that her eyes are covered, I’m going to hand each of you a playing card. Whoever draws the highest card gets to go first.” Satoru explained nonchalantly, as the sound of him shuffling the cards expertly made itself known in your ears.

After a short moment of listening to each man shift on the couch to get their card, Gojo spoke. “Now let’s reveal our cards.” You heard a few small sighs of excitement from some of the men, and you also heard some hisses of displeasure, assuming that they would have to wait a while until their turn.

You then felt something hot press against your left cheek, and as you turned to try and put it in your mouth you felt another dick poke your right cheek. Surprise caught you off guard, both? At the same time? Maybe they drew the same number card. That was all you could logically conclude in your hazy brain.

You decided to alternate sucking both of your boyfriends' dicks, first the one on the left. You kissed his entire length lovingly while you softly pumped the other cock in your right hand. Your wet mouth enveloped the rod on your left briefly. You held him in your throat for a bit, knowing that it would feel pleasurable. You quickly switched hands and gave the same type of treatment to the dick on the right. You trailed featherlight kisses up and down his dick. Then you beckoned him down your throat, knowing that he’ll enjoy the wet squeeze. Once both cocks were saturated with your saliva, you jerked them off simultaneously. As you pumped them, you brought their tips to your lips. You were able to taste their salty precum drip onto your tongue.

The other men in the room couldn’t help but get even more fired up at what was going on right before their eyes. Yuuta and Inumaki exchanged heated glances with each other while your hot mouth worshiped them at the same time. Yuuta was on the left and Toge on the right, each man had a fist full of your hair gripped tightly.

You dragged your tongue across them both in the most sensational way, earning a muted moan to come from the back of Toge’s throat. Despite being fucked out, you were excited to enjoy Inumaki and Yuuta at the same time. You forced the dick on your left to go down your throat once more, and as you did a small sigh escaped his lips. You then switched to the cock on your right, guiding him down your throat with your tongue. You felt him pull your hair tautly, earning a gurgled moan of excitement to come from the back of your throat.

Just then, the timer went off and it was time to guess. Due to the process of elimination, “Yuuta and Inumaki.” You said confidently while lowering your blindfold. Your hazy eyes were greeted by both of your boyfriends standing over you with their sprung and slick dicks in your face. They eyed you longingly and were ready for action.

“So how do you want to take us?” Yuuta asked with a lustful look in his dark eyes.

“I wanna enjoy you in me at the same time.” You sighed, leaning back on the futon seductively. “Yuuta, sit down on the couch.” You instructed, with a perverted idea in your head.

Your black-haired boyfriend did what he was told and sat beside Muta. “Then Inumaki, get on top and face him. Then I’ll sit on you both.” You smiled with a playful glint in your eye.

Toge obeyed your command and settled himself on Yuuta’s lap. You made your way over to them and spun around so you could face your sweet Inumaki. Your dripping pussy hovered over Toge’s dick, but Yuuta had the head of his cock at your ass. You wanted them both in your cunt, so you snuck your hand down and guided his rod up to Inumaki’s so that they were touching. Both men shuddered at the taboo feeling, you couldn’t help but adore the flustered look on Toge’s face. His violet-colored eyes looked at you with deep desire.

You were too caught up in the moment and slipped down onto both dicks entirely. Having both cocks up your pussy felt incredibly hot, you felt a slight sting to being stretched out, but you pushed it aside and focused on having a good time with your boyfriends instead.

“Mmm, you’re too tight.” Whimpered Yuuta from behind you, you felt him lean forward and kiss your shoulders and caress your waist lovingly. You held onto Inumaki for stability while you slowly moved your hips for more friction.

Both men groaned out in pleasure while you ground yourself on them, this caused their dick’s to rub against each other in such an amazing way. Your pussy was incredibly damp due to your arousal mixed with the other men’s cum. Unfortunately, your body was spent, and your thighs burned from Sukuna railing you on your feet earlier. Most of the energy you had was spent on the other men.

You brought your lips to Inumaki’s and kissed him feverishly, “My legs are tired, can you and Yuuta take control?” You asked sweetly.

“Shake,” Toge said affirmatively, he then secured his hands around your waist while Yuuta did the same. Both men lifted you together and then dropped you back down onto their cocks. Feeling them slide back into you sent shivers of delight to run down all of your spines.

“Oh, yes!” You moaned out in adoration, you accidentally cast your gaze past Toge and to Megumi who sat diagonal from you guys. Fushiguro eyed you with acceptance while he and Kamo chatted nonchalantly. You glanced over at Noritoshi, who had a more hungry look on his face. Yuji stared your way with a captivated look in his eyes. While Satoru, leaned back on the couch comfortably, keeping his brilliant blue eyes on you. You amazed him at how skilled you were at taking their dicks. Muta who sat beside Yuuta, had a flushed look on his face, especially because of how close he was to the action. He felt a small sting of jealousy and wanted to be one of the guys inside of you.

You felt Yuuta sneak his hands up your torso and grab ahold of your soft and bouncy breasts. He always loved feeling your boobs. Whenever the two of you would cuddle he’d find a way to hold them sweetly. Both men continued to pump into you simultaneously, each thrust more powerful than the last. You found yourself lost in Inumaki’s captivating gaze, he drew you in almost hypnotically.

“Mmh, both of you feel… so… good.” You whined out between their synced thrusts.

Inumaki felt that he wouldn’t be able to last much longer. The combination of your slick and tight heat alongside the friction against Yuuta’s dick inside you, was more than heavenly. He pulled you closer and crashed his lips against yours passionately. Toge brought one of his hands up to your hair and gently tugged your luscious locks to deepen the kiss.

Yuuta was in love with how amazing you felt; so saturated and tight, he could stay here forever if you let him. The unique sensation of his lengthy rod rubbing against his friend Inumaki’s was just as pleasurable. He felt honored that he was able to share you so intimately with his best friend. Each time Yuuta shoved his dick into you while Inumaki did, he could tell that he was going to bust soon.

“Inumaki, I don’t think- ahh I can last any longer.” Yuuta groaned out anxiously, sure enough, their timer would be up soon.

“Shake-“ Toge shuddered, his eyebrows narrowed in concentration as he continuously shoved himself inside you.

Yuuta and Toge began to plow you down onto their hot dicks with incredible force. Your pussy couldn’t take any more of it, and you weren’t sure if you were able to cum again. All you could do was whine and babble uncontrollably while they shared you.

“So… mmh. Keep going! Ahh…” you sputtered out, lost in pure ecstasy.

Suddenly, the timer went off, but it fell silent to you three. “Cum.” Inumaki stated while he and Yuuta pushed themselves balls deep in you.

Your forced orgasm hit you hard and your pussy pulsated around both rods inside you. You felt your release drench their dicks in the most appetizing way. Yuuta and Toge released themselves in vigorous squirts, each man held you close to them as they rode out their waves of pleasure. Their cum mixed as one, as they shot their streams of milky liquid into you.

They held you for a brief moment, letting you catch your breath as they did the same. You felt like a limp rag doll and exhaustion quickly overwhelmed you. You tried to maneuver yourself off of your boyfriends, but it felt as if your legs were jello.

Satoru picked up on that and swiftly pulled you up and off of them. Once he did a waterfall of everyone’s cum fell down your thighs, it felt hot and sticky. There was such an abundant amount of release in you that when Gojo carried you down, you heard a few splats fall onto his marble floor. He set you on his lap and draped your tired legs off onto Yuji.

Inumaki removed himself from Yuuta’s lap and began to wipe himself off with Gojo’s blue complimentary towel.

“You’ve got me captivated more than you can imagine,” Satoru murmured against your forehead.

You smiled hazily, but you were too tired to respond. You rested your head on his muscular chest and breathed in his comforting scent. The room around you began to fade away and the quiet conversations amongst the other males felt distant. Sleep quickly grabbed a hold of you and your dreams were peaceful.

Little did you know, the following month you’d miss your period.

[eu-nicola]

the ferrari couple

summary: when Charles signs with Ferrari, his life takes an unexpected turn when he falls in love with you "Princess Ferrari". Together both become the perfect couple, but behind public perfection, the pressure of your careers leads both in other ways

warnings: nothing

word counter: 4559

author's note: english is not my first language

this is a request from @pperlaaiy

The sound of engines rumbled across the Monza circuit. It was the 2018 Italian Grand Prix, and Charles Leclerc, still a Sauber driver, walked around the paddock with a mix of pride and nervousness. That year had been crucial for him; rumours of his possible promotion to Ferrari felt increasingly real. However, the pressure of being at home, surrounded by tifosi who idolised the Scuderia, kept him on his toes. 

As he made his way to the Ferrari hospitality area, Charles paused for a moment, awed by the spectacle before him. Surrounded by photographers, journalists and Ferrari employees, there was you. You seemed to shine with a light of your own, dressed in an impeccable white two-piece suit that bore discreet touches of Ferrari red, the colour that so represented your lineage. Perfectly coiffed hair, dark sunglasses and a confident smile that showed no trace of nervousness. In that moment, you were everything Ferrari stood for: tradition, elegance and power. 

“Who is she?” Charles asked his engineer, unable to look away.

“Don’t you know? She’s related to Enzo Ferrari. Her mother, Sofia Ferrari, is practically the queen of the car group. She’s like the princess of the house.”

Charles nodded slowly, impressed, but also intimidated. He had heard about you before, how you were an iconic figure in and out of the world of motorsport. You were known not only for your surname, but for your involvement in Ferrari’s most exclusive events, your innate elegance, and the way you upheld your family’s legacy. The fact that you were unreachable only added to your aura.

However, what happened next took Charles completely by surprise. While he tried to hide his interest and continue on his way, you turned around and your eyes met his. Taking off your sunglasses, you smiled with that mix of kindness and confidence that baffled everyone.

“Charles Leclerc, right?” You asked, stepping closer gracefully.

He blinked, surprised that you knew who he was. "Uh, yeah, I'm Charles," he replied, trying to sound relaxed, though he felt the heat rising to his face.

“I have to say, you’ve impressed many at Ferrari this year,” you said, shaking his hand. Your tone was gentle, but your words carried a weight he couldn’t ignore. “My uncle won’t stop talking about you. I think you’re destined for great things.”

Charles scratched the back of his neck, a nervous gesture contrasting with your poise. “I hope so. Being part of Ferrari would be… a dream.”

“A dream, but also a responsibility,” you replied, your gaze becoming more intense. “Ferrari isn’t just a team, Charles. It’s a family, a history. The tifosi don’t see you as just a driver; they see you as a symbol. And that’s not something just anyone can carry.”

He nodded slowly, feeling the weight of your words. He’d heard similar speeches before, but coming from you, they held a different meaning. “I know. And I’m willing to give my all to live up to it.”

You stared at him for a moment, assessing him. Finally, you smiled again, this time with a hint of genuine warmth. “I hope so, Charles. I’d love to see you succeed at Ferrari. But for now, enjoy Monza. It’s a magical place, don’t you think?”

“It is,” he replied, relaxing a little. “Even more so now.”

Your laugh was soft, but enough for the few people around to notice the chemistry that seemed to be brewing between the two of you. Before you could respond, a team member called out to you from a distance. With a slight nod to Charles, you walked away, leaving behind a sweet scent and an impression he wouldn’t soon forget.

Charles stood still for a few seconds, taking in what had just happened. He had met the “princess of Ferrari,” but beyond your name and lineage, what had struck him most was your presence. There was something about you that challenged him, that made him want to prove he was worthy of being in your world.

That night, during the official Ferrari dinner, they met again. You were surrounded by important figures in motorsport, but when Charles entered the room, your eyes instinctively sought him out. This time, you didn't need to approach him; he took the initiative.

"Can I sit here?" he asked, pointing to the chair next to yours.

You smiled, amused. "Of course. I hope you're ready, Charles."

"If I can survive Monza, I think I can handle this," he replied, feeling more confident.

And so, over glasses of wine and conversations filled with jokes and witty observations, something began that neither of you could have foreseen. You weren't just Ferrari's princess; you were a challenge, a mystery. And for Charles, the young driver who dreamed of conquering the world, you became the most fascinating target of all.

After that first meeting at Monza, Charles couldn't get you out of his mind. Despite being immersed in the demands of his season with Sauber, he found moments between races and training to remember the conversations he'd had with you. For your part, there was something about him that intrigued you. Maybe it was his humility, his ambition, or the way he seemed to shine even under the pressure of the spotlight.

The next few times you met were at Ferrari-related events, always in formal settings where professional distance was the norm. However, that barrier slowly began to break down.

It was a cool evening in Maranello. Ferrari had organised a private dinner to celebrate the season's achievements and start looking ahead. Although the evening was for the official drivers, Charles was invited as a gesture of goodwill, as the announcement of his joining Ferrari for the 2019 season was imminent.

You met him in the event's illuminated gardens, while escaping a boring conversation with a group of executives. Charles was alone, a glass of wine in his hand, admiring the statue of Enzo Ferrari that presided over the place. You approached him with a light smile.

"Thinking about how to fill those shoes?" you asked, stopping beside him.

Charles turned his head, surprised but genuinely happy to see you. "More like wondering if I'll ever make it."

“It’s a start,” you said, shrugging. “He always said that the true spirit of Ferrari isn’t in perfection, but in passion. If you have that, you’re already halfway there.”

He looked at you, with a mix of admiration and curiosity. “Do you feel that passion too? For Ferrari, I mean.”

You nodded, crossing your arms to protect yourself from the cold. “Of course. I grew up surrounded by this world, but it’s not just the family name. It’s everything it represents: the history, the tifosi, the constant struggle to be the best. It’s not easy to live with it, but I wouldn’t change it for anything.”

Charles was silent for a moment, processing your words. Then he smiled, a soft but sincere gesture. “It’s funny. All that you describe is what scares me and excites me at the same time. Being at Ferrari means so much more than being a fast driver. It’s… something bigger.”

You turned to him, studying him carefully. There was something about his honesty that disarmed you, a rarity in a world full of appearances. “And you think you’re ready for it?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, shrugging. “But I want to try. And I’ll do my best to prove that I’m worthy of it.”

The determination in his voice made you smile. “That’s what I like about you. You’re not afraid to admit your doubts, but you’re not afraid to face them either.”

He stared at you, as if he was trying to figure something out in you. “And you? Have you always been this sure of yourself?”

The question took you by surprise. You looked down for a moment before answering. “Not always. But when you grow up in this family, you learn to hide your insecurities.”

Before the conversation could go any deeper, one of the attendants called out to you from a distance. “Y/N, you’re needed inside.”

You sighed, but not before giving Charles one last smile. "Don't let them intimidate you in there. And remember: Ferrari is more than a car, it's a family."

The real change in your relationship came weeks later, when Ferrari made the official announcement that Charles would be a driver for the 2019 season. The news flooded the headlines and thrilled the tifosi, who saw him as the future of the team. That evening, you hosted a private dinner at your family villa in Maranello, inviting only a few people close to the team, including Charles.

"Thank you for inviting me," Charles said when he arrived, wearing a simple but elegant suit. There was something different in his gaze that night: a mix of confidence and gratitude.

"Of course," you replied as you greeted him. "I couldn't pass up the opportunity to celebrate our new star."

The evening passed quietly, with laughter, anecdotes and toasts to the future. However, you both noticed that your eyes met more often than usual. When dinner ended and the other guests began to leave, Charles was one of the last to stay.

"Would you like to see something special?" You asked, taking a glass of wine and leading him towards the villa's garage.

Inside, covered by tarps, were some of Ferrari's most iconic models, from the first cars created by Enzo to the most modern ones. Charles walked among them in wonder, like a child in a candy store.

"It's amazing," he murmured. "It's like being in a private museum."

"It is," you said, leaning against one of the cars. "Every car here has a story. And now you will be a part of that story."

He stopped in front of you, his expression serious but warm. "I hope I can live up to it. Not just for Ferrari, but for you as well."

The intensity of his words took you by surprise, but you didn't back down. There was something about his sincerity that drew you hopelessly.

"Charles..." you began, but he interrupted you.

“I’m not saying this because you’re from the Errari family or because you’re in a position of power. I’m saying this because you, as a person, inspire me. And I want you to know that I will do everything I can to not let you down.”

For the first time in a long time, you were speechless. And as the silence stretched between you both, Charles took a step towards you. There was no need to say anything else; the moment said it all.

That night marked the start of something special. What had started as a casual connection became a relationship that you both knew would be intense, complicated, but also unique.

After that, the end of 2018 was a whirlwind of emotions for Charles. He had closed his season with Sauber in an exceptional way, earning the respect of the tifosi and securing his place at Ferrari for the following year. But the most unexpected thing for him had been the relationship that had formed with you. During those months, you went from being two occasional acquaintances at events to becoming confidants and something more.

Your meetings, although few due to his constant travels, were full of complicity. He had invited you to accompany him to a couple of races outside Italy, and although you kept everything under a strict low profile, the members of the paddock were beginning to notice that there was something between you. The candlelit dinners, the walks through Maranello and the deep conversations.

For Charles, you were much more than a "Ferrari". You were someone who understood him, someone who saw beyond the image of a promising driver. For you, Charles was a breath of fresh air in a world full of appearances. In him, you found someone honest, humble and passionate.

However, you both knew that things would change in 2019. With Charles officially becoming a Ferrari driver, the attention on both of you would increase, and you would have to decide how you would face what was to come together.

When the 2019 season began, everything changed. Not only was Charles Ferrari's new rising star, he also unwittingly became the centre of media attention. The relationship between the two, which until then had remained in the shadows, inevitably began to come to light.

The first time photographers caught you together was at the Monaco Grand Prix. You were in the paddock, leaning against a railing as you talked animatedly to Charles. You were wearing a red outfit that paid homage to the Scuderia, and your laughter echoed above the roar of the engines. The media was quick to dub you the “prince and princess of Ferrari.”

“Does all this attention bother you?” Charles asked you that afternoon, as you walked together through the Monte Carlo harbor.

“A little,” you admitted, adjusting your sunglasses. “But I also know it’s inevitable. I guess we’ll just have to learn to handle it together.”

Charles nodded, taking your hand gently. “We will.”

It was an intense year, full of challenges for both of you. Charles had to deal with the pressure of being a Ferrari driver, while you were constantly surrounded by the critical eyes of the press and tifosi, who analyzed your every move. Far from separating them, however, those challenges brought them closer together.

The moments they shared off the track became their refuge. There were days when Charles would arrive exhausted after a difficult race, and you would call him to give him words of encouragement. There were also nights when you, exhausted, would find comfort in his embrace.

By 2020, you were no longer just a couple at Ferrari; you were the couple. Cameras followed you everywhere, and social media couldn't stop talking about you. Photos of you at Formula 1 galas, at private Scuderia events, and even on vacation in Italy went viral instantly.

The tifosi loved how they represented the essence of Ferrari: Charles was the young driver full of talent and promise, and you, the sophisticated and passionate woman who seemed to be the embodiment of the Ferrari legacy. No matter where they were, together they projected an image of perfection that fascinated the world.

However, behind the flashes, things were not always easy. The 2020 season was a complicated year for Ferrari, with performance issues testing Charles as a driver. For him, it was frustrating to go from being a constant contender to fighting to stay in the top 10. There were times when tensions were palpable, but you always found a way to remind him of his worth.

“Charles,” you told him one night after a disappointing race at Spa, as you both sat on the balcony of his hotel room. “You are not just a Ferrari driver. You are the future of Ferrari. Enzo always said that difficult races are the ones that make true champions. And you are one of them.”

He looked at you, his eyes filled with emotion. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Luckily, you won’t have to find out,” you replied with a smile.

That mutual strength was what made you two so special. While Charles faced the challenges of the track, you struggled to keep outside pressures at bay, defending your relationship from rumors and criticism.

By the end of 2020, you were more than a couple; you were a symbol. The prince and princess of Ferrari, two figures who represented everything the brand stood for: history, passion, and the promise of a bright future.

What no one imagined was that beneath that image of perfection, the first cracks were beginning to form. Because, although the love you felt for each other was real, the demands of your worlds were not always compatible.

The end of 2020 marked a turbulent time both on and off the track. Ferrari was facing one of its worst seasons in years, and while Charles continued to show his talent, the car simply wasn’t up to par. You, for your part, had been dealing with the mounting pressures of your family name: new projects, the constant expectation that you represent Ferrari at key events, and increasing scrutiny over your relationship with Charles.

Through it all, you never let the internal tensions leak outward. To the world, you were still the couple. You were seen smiling at events, with Charles looking at you as if you were his anchor, and you showing yourself unwavering, like the pillar holding him up. But what no one saw was the distance that was beginning to form between you.

The breaking point began subtly, with small misunderstandings and differences that you had previously managed with grace.

During the final races of the season, you noticed that Charles was more distant. Although he remained affectionate with you in public, in private his attention seemed to be elsewhere. His days were consumed by endless team meetings, interviews, and hours of work trying to squeeze the maximum potential out of an unresponsive car. When he came home, he was exhausted, and conversations between the two of you were reduced to an exchange of short sentences.

“How was it today?” you asked, waiting for an answer that never came with any depth.

“Good, the usual,” he would reply, often without looking at you, lost in thought.

It wasn’t Charles’ fault, you knew. The weight he carried on his shoulders was immense, and you wanted to be understanding. But you couldn’t help but feel displaced, as if your place in his life had taken a backseat.

For your part, you were dealing with your own problems as well. Your family expected you to take a more active role in the company, and every step you took was scrutinized. The endless meetings, strategic decisions, and social expectations were draining you. There were nights when you sat alone in your Maranello apartment, wondering if this was the life you really wanted.

The night of the final race of the season, in Abu Dhabi, you decided you needed to talk. You had prepared dinner in the hotel suite, hoping to reconnect before heading back to Italy. Charles arrived late, tired but trying not to show it.

“This looks amazing,” he commented, cracking a smile as he sat across from you.

“I wanted us to close the year with something special,” you replied, trying to hide the anxiety in your voice.

For a while, the conversation flowed as before. You talked about the race, the tifosi, and even joked about how the media had called you “Ferrari royalty” in a recent article. But then, the tone changed.

“Charles, I’ve been thinking,” you began, hands shaking slightly. “Do you think… we’re okay?”

He looked up, surprised by the question. “What do you mean?”

“We’ve grown apart,” you admitted, your voice almost a whisper. “We don’t talk like we used to anymore, we don’t spend time together. I feel like all of this—” you gestured vaguely at the world around them, “—is consuming us.”

Charles sighed, setting his fork down on the table. “I know. I’ve felt the same way. But I thought… that it was temporary. That after this season, things would get better.”

“What if they don’t?” you asked, facing the fear you’d been suppressing for months.

For a moment, Charles didn’t say anything. His silence was like a confirmation of what you both feared: that the weight of your individual lives was overshadowing what you had together.

“I love you,” he finally said, with a sincerity that almost brought tears to your eyes. "But I don't know if I'm being fair to you. I don't know if I can be the person you need right now."

The decision wasn't made in one night, but that conversation marked the beginning of the end. Over the following weeks, both tried to hold on to what they had, but silences were more frequent than words, and the emotional distance became increasingly evident.

The news of their separation came in January 2021, shortly after the Christmas holidays. There were no official statements or public explanations; they simply stopped appearing together, and rumours began to circulate.

The paddock was in shock. Neither of them had given any indication of trouble, and for the tifosi, they represented perfection. But those who knew them closely knew the truth: there was no big fight, no betrayal, just the inevitable wear and tear of two people trapped in worlds that demanded too much of them.

The last time you saw him was at a Ferrari event in early 2021. He was beaming, smiling at photographers as he spoke to management. When your eyes met, he gave you a small, almost melancholic smile, which you returned with a similar gesture.

There were no words, but they didn't need to be. You both knew that what you had was unique, special, and that it would always be a part of you. But you also knew that you had made the right decision, even if it hurt.

The prince and princess of Ferrari had split up, leaving the world baffled and the tifosi heartbroken.

The months following the breakup were like a whirlwind, even though neither of you openly acknowledged it. You and Charles had decided to keep the reasons for the end of your relationship private, but that only fueled the speculation. The media kept wondering what had happened between the prince and princess of Ferrari, and the tifosi couldn't accept that something so perfect had fallen apart for no apparent reason.

Despite the noise, you both tried to move on, each in your own way. But as they tried to build new routines, the world kept watching, waiting for some sign, some word that would explain the inexplicable.

The first image of Charles with another woman appeared one day in March. It was a casual photograph, taken by a fan in Monte Carlo. Charles was in a café, smiling as he chatted with a blonde, light-eyed girl. It didn't seem like a romantic encounter, but the closeness between the two and the carefree smile on Charles' face unleashed a wave of comments.

“Who is she?”

“Has she replaced her already?”

“She’s probably her cousin or something, Charles wouldn’t do this.”

For your part, you tried to ignore it. You knew Charles had the right to move on, as did you, but you couldn’t help but feel a knot in your stomach as fans began to theorize about his love life.

It wasn’t long before you were making headlines too. A few weeks later, during a gala event in Milan, you arrived accompanied by an Italian businessman known for his charisma and fortune. He offered you his arm as you walked down the red carpet, and although you maintained a professional smile, the camera flashes captured something that the media interpreted as complicity.

The reaction was not long in coming.

“She already has a boyfriend? This can’t be real.”

“Charles and her were perfect, this doesn’t make sense.”

“The princes of Ferrari are dating commoners now, apparently.”

Social media became a battleground between fans. There were those who supported the idea of ​​the two moving on with their lives, but there were also those who clung to the hope of a reconciliation. Every photo of Charles with his supposed new partner was analyzed in detail, and the same was true for you.

On your Instagram profile, the comments were a reflection of the tifosi's pain:

"Please tell me this isn't true."

"Why did you break up? I never understood it."

"Get back together, there's still time."

Charles faced the same thing. Even in the simplest photos — an afternoon training or a day on the simulator — the responses were full of mentions of you.

"Everything is more boring without Princess Ferrari."

"I hope you're happy, but I'll never forget what you had."

Neither you nor Charles made any comments on the matter. You both knew that any statement would only fuel further speculation, and the last thing you wanted was to turn your past relationship into a public spectacle.

At Ferrari events, it was inevitable that your paths would cross, although you always kept your distance. During a presentation of the Scuderia for the 2021 season, you sat in the front row next to the management, while Charles took his place on the stage, talking about his expectations for the year.

Your eyes met for a brief second. It was enough for the photographers to capture the moment, but not enough for either of you to show any obvious emotion. You held his gaze calmly, while he quickly turned his gaze towards the audience.

After the event, you avoided the cocktail party that followed. You knew the media would be waiting for any interaction between you, and you weren't about to fuel any more rumors. However, as you were leaving, you received a text on your phone.

"I saw you left early. I hope you're okay."

It was from Charles.

You read it a few times before pocketing your phone without responding. Although the message seemed innocent, it only made the emptiness in your chest feel heavier.

Despite appearances, moving on wasn't easy for either of you. Charles could put on a smile next to his new companion, but in moments of solitude, he found his mind drifting back to the days he shared with you. The walks through Maranello, the conversations in the early morning, even the small arguments over insignificant things: it was all still there, like an echo that refused to go away.

You weren't immune either. Although you were dating someone new, you hadn't felt that connection you once had with Charles. Every time you saw their name in the headlines, your heart beat a little faster, and images of what was and what could have been filled your mind.

Still, you both kept going, at least in the eyes of the world. The smiles at events, the carefully curated posts on social media, everything seemed to indicate that you had put the past behind you. But the others seemed unwilling to let it go.

The tifosi kept waiting. In every Ferrari post, in every interview, in every public appearance, someone always asked about you.

"Will you come back one day?"

"You were the heart of Ferrari."

"Without you, this is not the same anymore."

And although neither you nor Charles answered, that question kept hanging in the air, like a wound that time did not quite heal. Because although you had gone your separate ways, the world was not ready to forget you.

And, perhaps, deep down, neither were you.

[blue-slxt]

First Heat

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

A/N: Something about a deep animalistic urge to mate just does it for me apparently. All characters are aged up. Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Neteyam x Avatar!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Explicit smut, p in v, heat, creampie, praise kink

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: It's your first heat cycle in your avatar body and you beg Neteyam for help.

It’s been about 5 months since you’ve decided to stay in your avatar permanently and live with the na’vi. At only 19 years old, you were the youngest person with an avatar and you took a bit of pride in that fact. Life on Pandora was a far cry from the life you knew on Earth, but in the absolute best way possible. The air was alive with this energy that you could feel at the bottom of your feet flowing through every living thing on the planet. You felt like you were starting to get the hang of how things worked; the customs, the traditions, the hunting, the healing, everything. You enjoyed life here much better.

You loved spending time with the Sully family. Since Jake was originally from Earth too, you enjoyed talking with him and telling his kids all about Earth and watching their ears perk up in amazement. In particular, Neteyam would always ask you questions wanting to know everything there was to know about your first home.

You enjoyed Neteyam’s company. He was a good listener, always very respectful, but he was also a bit of a jokester. You found him charming. Nothing like the men you knew on Earth.

You kept your hut pretty minimal for the most part. Although, there were a few Earth things you decided to keep, mostly a full body mirror. You loved admiring your avatar. They were able to customize it so that even though you had mostly the same build as the na’vi, you still had a lot of the same curves as your human body. It made you feel a little bit embarrassed sometimes wearing the na’vi clothing because it left you feeling extra exposed since it didn’t cover much. Nevertheless, you admired your long, slender legs all the same and strong arms. You sat on the floor of your hut weaving an armband with some beautiful beads that you had collected. Funny enough, the beads looked similar to the ones Neteyam would wear in his braids. And almost as if he had heard your thoughts, the flap to your hut flips open and he walks inside. You were surprised, but not unhappy to see him. Next to no one comes to your hut so you weren’t expecting company. “Hey Neteyam.”

“Hey, we missed you at dinner tonight” he said looking around at your strangely decorated home.

“Yea, sorry, I guess I got a little lost in my thoughts” you admit.

His eyes wander around looking at the Earth items littered through your hut, tail flicking back and forth with curiosity. His eyes finally land on the mirror and you can see the intrigue written all across his body language. He stares at himself moving this way and the other looking at his movements matched by his reflection. You wander up behind him and look in the mirror with him giggling to yourself a bit. “Pretty neat huh?”

He grins to himself clearly pleased with his appearance. “I have never seen myself so clearly. At most, I get a blurry glimpse in the water.”

It was fun to watch him watch himself. And you couldn’t help yourself from noticing him too. You became acutely aware of his slender muscles and the way his braids fell around his neck and the stripes along his body. He was a handsome man, there was no two ways about it. Your tail is brushing back and forth along the floor and your body lets out a soft purr. You feel your face flush deeply as Neteyam makes eye contact with you in the mirror. You cannot believe that the body you loved so much would betray you in such a way. “Sorry! I have no idea where that came from. I’ve never done that before. And you know I’m still kinda getting used to things and—” you try to explain away the sound and he turns around to actually face you. His head cocks to the side listening to your ramblings while a knowing smirk plays on his lips. God, his lips looked soft. Have they always looked so soft? And…inviting? ‘Stop it!’ what were you thinking? What has gotten into you? You have never acted this way before so why now?

You excuse yourself to go and sit cross-legged on your sleeping mat across the floor. Suddenly, it feels very hot in your hut. Strange, since it was getting late and it usually cools off around now, but you feel like you’re about to start sweating. Neteyam walks over to you and crouches in front of you. His big golden eyes scan your face. His stare is scorching, and you dip your head down to avoid his burning eyes, but his fingers find your chin and lift your face to look at him. He takes in a big breath, and you notice a flash of realization come across his face for a split second. If you blinked, you would’ve missed it. His eyes drop from your eyes to your lips and his thumb traces across your bottom lip, “Tell me, how much do you know about heat cycles?” his voice was low and for some reason it made you hot at your core.

“What is a heat cycle?” you question feeling like your body is burning up and your mind is going fuzzy. It’s all you can do just to focus on the conversation.

Neteyam chuckles to himself. He realized that this must be your first heat. When he came over to you, he could smell your pheromones radiating off you and clouding his senses. You smelled of fresh rainwater and exotic flora. It drove him mad with desire. He could notice your breathing speeding up and your eyes starting to cloud.

With how you look right now, it makes him want nothing more than to ravage you, but he was too much of a gentleman to take advantage of you in such a state. No matter how painfully hard he was right now looking at you.

He drops his hand from your chin and pats the top of your head instead. “You still have so much to learn.” He sighs, “Your heat will come every month, it’s basically your body’s um…need to…seek out a mate” he did his best to explain, but truthfully he wasn’t very good at it since his mother or sister usually handled this kind of thing.

You managed to register the information he was giving you, but it did nothing to quell the feeling growing inside of you. There was this deep ravenous hunger you felt, but not in your stomach. It was growing so strong, it was getting painful. You sit up on your knees and crouch over holding yourself. Neteyam rubs his hand up and down your back and his fingers feel like fire on your spine. You jolt under his touch wanting to lean more into it. “I hear the Tsahik has certain herbs that you can take that can help ease you through the next few days.”

Days? You would have to endure this feeling for days? You weren’t sure you would last even through the night. Neteyam moves to go leave your hut and get the herbs, but the sudden loss of his touch leaves you feeling needy and without any thought behind it, you reach out and grab his wrist to stop him from leaving you. He looks back down at you in surprise. You can barely hold yourself up on the floor. “Please…please Neteyam…don’t leave me.” You couldn’t believe what you were saying. It was like your lips suddenly had free will apart from your brain. Neteyam couldn’t help but notice how desperate you looked. Despite his better judgement, he bent down and scooped you up into his arms bridal style. The gesture makes your heart skip several beats. You knew he was strong, but something in the way that he picked you up and held you as if you weighed nothing did something to you. You rested your head in the crook of his neck and you breathed in his scent. You’ve never noticed how good he smells. He smells Earthy. It makes you feel…feral.

Neteyam tries to ignore your breath on his neck and hold his composure while he carries you back over to your mat. He lays you down gently on your back and sits cross-legged beside you. He’s stopped touching you and that painful feeling comes back. Your thighs rub together desperate for some kind of friction to hopefully relieve the ache you feel. Your hands roam up and down your own body needing touch. You turn your head to look at Neteyam as he watches you clearly concerned at your current state and the fact that he doesn’t know how to help you. Your eyes catch movement down at his loincloth and it’s practically calling your name.

“Neteyam..n-need you t-to help me…please” you moan out with your hands resting underneath your top.

“I want to help, but I don’t know what you need”, he touches your shoulder eyes full of worry. You trail your eyes down to between his legs and look back up at him. It clicks. His face and ears blush a deep violet color. “Oh, I can’t do that, I shouldn’t be the one to do that. That should be something for your mate.”

“B-but I…don’t have one” the pain is getting worse and your vision is blurring. You’ve decided there’s no point in trying to fight it anymore and let yourself succumb to the lusty haze in your head. “Please ‘Teyam, I need you” you beg him. There was no denying that hearing his name dance across your tongue was enticing to him. Soon, Neteyam found himself wanting to give in too. Watching you writing in lustful agony in front of him was too much for him to bear. He ponders on it for a moment before letting himself give in to you. “Fine.”

You felt such relief wash over you once he agreed to help you. You untied the strings to your top and let it fall off to the side on the floor. Neteyam froze in the middle of untying his own loincloth at the sight of your breasts which were noticeably larger and more shapely than typical na’vi. You hurriedly shimmy out of your own cloth and flip over to your stomach. You hold your hips up into the air on your knees with your face still on the floor. You can feel something warm running down the length of your thigh and you surprise even yourself with how wet you are. Neteyam is stuck in awe seeing you like this. Without the loincloth in the way, he can smell your pheromones even more clearly and it makes him lick his lips in anticipation. Unable to wait one more second, your tail drags along Neteyam’s jaw and pulls him closer to you until you can feel the tip touching your opening. Your body purrs in waiting and that drives Neteyam mad. He slides in you inch by inch letting you get used to the stretch and every inch feels like a jolt of electricity throughout your body. By the time he’s all the way in, you swear you could cum right then and there. Your body can’t even wait for him to start moving so you start to throw your hips back into him giving your body the friction that you were craving. Neteyam holds on to your hips to steady himself and he squeezes his eyes closed trying to focus on not cumming inside of you so soon. Once he gets ahold of himself, he bucks his hips forward into you finally matching your movements. He opens his eyes and the sight of your ass falling back onto his dick over and over again makes him let out a low groan. He felt the need to have you completely. He wanted to be the only one to ever see you like this. The only one to ever touch you like this. The only one to make you feel like this.

All the pain is gone from your core leaving behind pure ecstasy. You’ve never felt need like this. You turn your face to the side so that you can look back at Neteyam hearing the constant smack of your hips against his. Neteyam looks down at your face and what a sight you were. Tongue hanging out while you moan and pant with every thrust, eyes nearly crossing unable to focus, a string of drool falling from the corner of you perfectly full lips, and your hair an absolute mess. “You’ve never looked more gorgeous than right now.”

His words of praise make your ears feel hot as his words dance around them. You needed that. “More. More please Neteyam.” You plead trying to focus your vision on his face, but it was no use. Your body wouldn’t listen to you.

Hearing you beg for more praise makes Neteyam feel this sense of pleasure that he didn’t know he could feel. He wanted to shower you with the sweetest of words like rain. “You feel so good.” His grip on your hips tightens. “Fuck, you make me want to give you everything.”

“Oh shit, Neteyam..I’m almost there!” you practically scream as you feel the pressure building in your body. Neteyam is close too, but he’s going to make sure that you get yours first. He grabs your wrists and holds them behind your back with one hand and he pulls you up so that your back meets his chest. The angle makes it so that he’s hitting exactly where your soft spot is. His free hand comes around the front of your body to grope one of your breasts. You catch a glimpse of the sight in the mirror across the room and it’s so lewd, but so…hot. It’s enough to get you to that sweet release you were chasing and you let it out all over Neteyam.

“Oh fuck, that is hot” he says admiring the mess you made on him. Between the sounds of your sweet moans and your walls still clenching around him from your orgasm, it’s exactly what he needs to get there. “I’m almost there. Should I take it out?” he asks you trying to be respectful, but the thought of him pulling out of you now damn near makes you panic. “No! Please don’t take it out!” You tell him. “B-but if I don’t then—” you cut him off. “I know, but I need it Neteyam. I need this” you practically have tears in your eyes at this point. Neteyam can’t hold it off any longer. ‘Fuck it’. He thrusts into you harder than before and releases inside of you. It feels thick and burning hot, but it satiates the aching hunger you felt earlier.

Neteyam releases his hold on you and you fall limp onto the floor. “Are you okay?” he asks making sure you’re not hurt. You squeak out a weak ‘mhm’ and lay there catching your breath. You feel him start to slide out of you slowly and your tail instinctively wraps around his thigh begging him to leave it in for a little while longer. You’re afraid that the pain will come again if he leaves you. He sighs and carefully lays down next to you being sure not to let himself come out of you yet wrapping one arm around your waist. He waits until you fall asleep before pulling out of you. Even in your sleep, your body can recognize the sudden emptiness and it makes you flinch. Your eyes flutter open to see his face studying yours. “Sorry ‘Teyam.” You say above a whisper feeling ashamed and embarrassed about what you asked of him. He brings one hand up to cup your face and lightly kisses your forehead, “Don’t be.”

“I do have to get home, though. If I stay here too long, your pheromones will drive me to do something crazy again.” He states.

You snake your tail around his waist holding him in place and you ask, “Would that be such a bad thing?” looking up into his eyes.

And you can feel him stiffen again at your suggestion. This was going to be a long couple of days.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Otherverse

Summary: After stepping through the rift, Dean and the reader find themselves in an entirely different universe altogether. Monsters don’t exist, everyone they’ve ever lost is alive and there is some strange dynamic going on with everyone. Luckily they’ve run into themselves to help them out...

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!reader

Word Count: 4,700ish

Warnings: language, mentions of sex

A/N: This fic is such a hot mess and has been hiding in my drafts for oh, five years? Time for it to see the light of day! Please enjoy!

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Dean was shrugging his shoulders at you from the other side of the kitchen table. The fact his twin was setting a cup of coffee down in front of him wasn’t the strangest thing you’d ever ran into but it was certainly up there.

“So...this is fucking weird,” said the other Dean, a few less bags under his eyes than yours. 

“Yeah, you’re telling us,” said your Dean, the other one nodding his head.

“Well, Y/N should be home from the store soon,” said the other Dean, chuckling when he saw you shake your head. “You can call me something else if it makes it easier for you to keep it all straight.”

“We could call him Red,” said Dean, smirking over at you.

“Oh come on,” you said, blushing as you looked at your lap. “Not in front of...”

“Red shirt of sex?” asked the other Dean, Red you figured you were going with.

“Yours does it too!” said Dean, the pair laughing to themselves. “Some things even time and space can’t contain.”

“It is a pretty lucky shirt,” said Red with a smile, grabbing your cup of coffee when the machine buzzed off. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” you said, Red taking a deep breath. “What?”

“You guys smell weird is all,” he said, both your and Dean’s heads cocking. “I’ll uh, explain once Y/N gets home. She’s better at words and crap.”

“So...” said Dean, tapping his fingers on the nice kitchen table. “Nice house.”

“Built it myself,” said Red, stretching in his seat. “Took nearly a year. Y/N has the patience of a saint. I mean, it helped I had my crew of guys working on it but still, a track home would have been much easier to go with. You don’t get character when you go that route though.”

Dean just hummed, sipping from his cup as he gave you a look. You and Dean had never once thought about building a house or living in the suburbs or anything remotely close to that. Two childhoods worth of motel rooms were what you had, the bunker your home but even that was nothing like the place you were sat in.

“Thanks again for not shooting us when we popped up in your backyard,” you said with a smile, Red nodding.

“I really didn’t want to mow the lawn today anyways,” he said, eyes drawn to the back window where the rift had been. Something screwed up though. It shut almost immediately, trapping you and Dean in this other world until you could figure out how to hitch a ride back home. “What’s your guys world like again?”

“Looks just like this,” you said.

“Except we hunt monsters,” said Dean. Red raised an eyebrow but only took a long sip of coffee. “You’re not freaking out over that?”

“The freak out moment has passed for me,” he said. “Monsters...that’s intense.”

“Yup,” you and Dean said, thankful when you heard a sound come from the next room over. 

“Excuse me,” said Red, standing up quickly, returning a moment later with a baby on his hip. “Hey pup, this is me and your mom from another universe. They hunt monsters...this is so totally going to sound insane to her when she gets back.”

“He’s so cute,” you said, standing up and taking a look at him. 

“They have kids,” said Dean, running a hand through his hair.

“You guys don’t?” asked Red.

“Our lives aren’t what I’d call safe,” said Dean, Red nodding his head. 

“I get you,” said Red, the front door opening somewhere else in the house.

“Alpha, I’m home! Can you get the heavy stuff out of the trunk?” you heard a voice eerily similar to your own shout.

“Coming Omega,” said Red, putting the baby in your arms. “Could you watch the pup for a minute?”

“Is it just me or do these guys have some weird names for stuff?” you asked, holding the smiling baby on your hip.

“He keeps calling his kid a pup. Like a puppy?” asked Dean, his eyes wide when you heard the floor creak behind you.

“Well, he did say there was some epically weird shit happening in the kitchen,” said another you, scratching her head with her free hand. 

“Hi,” you said, the other you reaching for her baby. “I’m Y/N.”

“Yeah. Me too but I’m guessing you already knew that,” she said. “Is handsome over there, Dean?”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” said Dean.

“Oh, good,” she said, setting a bag on the counter. “This is completely normal.”

An hour later you were sat in the Winchester’s living room, Red and Lila, at least that was the name you’d decided on calling the other you for now, sitting down on another couch.

“Okay, so I have a question,” said Lila, Red tsking her. “We can’t smell you guys. What are you?”

“Huh?” you and Dean said, looking at one another.

“Well if you’re like us, Dean should be Alpha and Y/N Omega but you two smell flat, like nothing. It’s weird,” said Lila.

“I don’t think our dynamic exists where they come from, Omega,” said Red. Lila stared at you for a good long while before she stood up and threw her hair up in a bun, revealing a bite mark on her neck.

“This...” she said, pointing at the spot, “Is a claiming bite. Dean, er Red, gave it to me when we mated and he claimed me. You guys are saying you have none of that?”

“Dude, I know she likes a little nibble but don’t actually bite her,” said Dean, scrunching up his face at Red. “Don’t tell me you’re some kind of asshole.”

“Red’s being very patient with you right now so I’d back off,” said Lila.

“Relax,” said Red, wrapping his arms around Lila’s shoulders. “She’s getting close to heat. She gets a little protective during that time.”

“You should see this one on her period,” said Dean, pointing at you.

“Speaking of which, if we don’t get out of here soon, I’m going to need to borrow some stuff,” you said, Lila glancing up at Red. “Supplies?”

“Well...we might need to run to the store for you. I think...you guys are like Beta’s right now, even if you don’t smell like it. We can get you whatever you need,” said Red, Dean cocking his head.

“Explain this dynamic thing to us again cause right now, you two sound like a basket full of crazy,” said Dean.

“Says the guy that came through an inter-dimensional rift in my backyard?” asked Lila.

“Dammit, she really is like you,” muttered Dean, Lila smiling to herself. 

“It’s pretty simple. We have six genders. A male and female version of the three dynamics, Alpha, Beta and Omega. Beta’s normally pair off together, leaving the Alpha’s and Omega’s to get together,” said Red.

“Yeah but...you bit her,” said Dean.

“Things are a bit more...animalistic here,” said Red, Dean’s face scrunching up. “Come here dude.”

Red got up from the couch, waving Dean to follow. They ducked around the corner, Dean back with wide eyes about ten seconds later.

“Okay, animalistic, got it,” said Dean, staring at his lap. “You’ve got a...fuck.”

“It’s a knot,” said Lila. “A lot of mammals have them actually.”

“Oh, that’s why the baby’s a pup,” you said, Lila smiling that it was starting to make sense to you...in a way.

“It used to be different and it’s still possible for life to be very dangerous for unclaimed Omega’s but Red’s an amazing Alpha to me,” said Lila.

“The Alpha protects it’s pack members or in this case, it’s family?” you asked, Red giving you a thumbs up. 

“See? You got a smart one too. It’s not that difficult. The only truly dangerous part is when you’re unmated. But even then they have stuff to hide your scent and very few Alphas are actually bad. Our world is probably safer than yours from what you’ve told us,” said Red.

“I don’t understand the biting thing though,” you said, Dean nodding beside you.

“It’s a bond,” said Lila. “A permanent one. It’s like getting married but you can’t get divorced.”

“That seems...unethical,” you said, both Red and Lila scrunching up their faces.

“If you grew up in this world, you would understand it’s completely natural and safe. We’re partners, no matter what,” said Red. “Like how she was scared when she saw you two in the kitchen but because I knew it was safe, she knew it was safe. It’s a physiological bond down to your core.”

“You love her,” said Dean.

“Yes,” said Red. “She loves me and we’re very happy.”

“We should go,” you said, Dean already on his feet.

“You guys don’t-”

“Lila,” you said with a smile. “Our problem isn’t yours. We’ll find a way back to where we belong without interfering with your lives anymore. Thank you for explaining things to us but we’ll get out of your hair. It’s safer that way.”

“You guys know where we live if you change your mind,” said Red.

“Thanks,” said Dean, spinning back around. “Where do we get those supplies again?”

“A pharmacy, big box store, anywhere really,” said Red.

“Last question...do they have pie here?” asked Dean.

“Dude, the diner on Main...best pie ever,” said Red, already licking his lips.

“We’ll be sure to check it out. Thanks again.”

You and Dean got a few strange looks around the store, Dean standing closer than normal.

“What is wrong with you? Personal space, Dean,” you said, grabbing a box of tampons and pads, tossing them in a basket along with the few other things you’d picked out. You were used to living on the road so this wasn’t that big of a deal...if only Dean would back off of you.

“I don’t know, I just want to be close,” said Dean, snatching the basket from you and quickly paying.

You were halfway down the block to the diner Red had mentioned when Dean put a hand on his forehead.

“Dean? What’s wrong?” you asked, grabbing the bag as he leaned up against the wall. “Dean.”

“Talk about a late bloomer,” said a passerbyer, your glare making him shrug. “He’s starting to present. I never heard of someone that old going through it though.”

“Go away,” you said, Dean throwing his arm over your shoulders, half walking with you as you made your way out of town and back to the Winchesters place.

“Well I didn’t expect...” said Red, scrunching up his nose. “Oh shit. Y/N! We got a problem!”

Red grabbed Dean and started to drag him upstairs, tossing him on a bed as Dean groaned.

“Y/N, you need to go to the pharmacy. I need you to get a first time Alpha pack and Rut medicine. Tell the pharmacist and they will get it for you. Understand?” said Red, shoving his wallet in your hands. “My Y/N, can you get up here please?”

“First time Alpha pack and Rut medicine,” you said, eyes wide as Lila brushed past you and into Dean’s room. “What’s wrong with him?”

“His body is taking on a dynamic. It’s puberty for us basically. I didn’t think...just go and we’ll figure the rest out later,” he said. “Get the medicine and he’ll be okay.”

“Okay,” you said, Red tossing you his car keys. 

“Make it fast.”

“Here,” you said twenty minutes later, Dean shouting into a pillow when you got back, Red standing by the door.

“Dean, Y/N got your medicine so...” said Red, Dean huffing and puffing when he saw you. “Dean...”

“She’s gonna turn too isn’t she,” said Dean, clutching at the pillow before it tore in half. “What the fuck?”

“You’re getting stronger, even stronger than you were. It’s an Alpha thing. Y/N, go down the street, dark green house. My Y/N and the pup are there,” said Red.

“I want to stay with Dean,” you said, an arm instantly slapped over the doorway.

“He’s going into his first rut with no idea how to control any of this. If he’s right and you start turning too, he’s gonna claim you without even thinking about it,” said Red. “Go now.”

“I don’t wanna go,” you growled, Dean shaking his head.

“Y/N,” said Dean, wrapping his arms around himself. “Do what he said. I can’t...I’m scared I’ll hurt you. Just go someplace safe for now.”

“He is trying his best not to come over here and take you so leave, now,” said Red. 

“You better take care of him,” you said, heading down the stairs.

“I’ll get him through it. Trust me,” said Red.

You jogged outside and spotted a dark green house about a quarter mile down the road, a very pretty ranch with a front porch and two expensive cars in the driveway.

“Hey, Y/N,” said Lila, opening the front door for you. “Red called, he’s going to be dealing with Dean for a while so we’re going to keep an eye on you just in case.”

“Thanks,” you said, stepping inside the warm house, smelling fresh cookies in the air. 

“Prepare yourselves for the weirdness,” said Lila, trotting along ahead of you. 

“Oh it can’t be that weird,” said Sam as you turned the corner, watching him try to steal a cookie off the sheet, a woman you’d only ever seen in pictures swatting his hand away. “Jess, come on.”

“Wait until they’ve cooled off,” she chided, Sam rolling his eyes as he glanced in your direction.

“Wow. You weren’t kidding with the weird,” he said, walking over with a smile. “I’m-”

“Hi Sammy,” you said, wrapping your arms around him in a way too hard hug but not caring in the slightest.

“Hello other Y/N,” he teased, trying to break free, taking a breath when you finally pulled away. “You alright?”

“Yes. No,” you said, looking him up and down. “You look good, Sam. Sorry, I know you’re not...it’s just been a really hard few months.”

“Okay...” said Sam, Jess pouting beside him when she caught your face.

“Your Sam...” she said. “Oh shit. Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you said, Lila sighing.

“Her Sam’s gone, Sam,” she said, Sam making an odd noise. 

“I’m sorry. This is probably pretty traumatizing then,” he said.

“I’ve seen weirder,” you said. “Dean and I...like I said, it’s been hard. We’ve lost a lot of friends and family recently. But Jess is alive so that’s awesome and did you seriously buy a house down the street from your brother?”

“Uh, he’s sort of pack leader,” said Sam.

“Oldest child is normally the pack leader,” said Lila. “We have our own houses but it’s normal for the family to live close to each other. Plus these guys have a pool.”

“How you feeling, hun?” asked Jess, putting a hand on your forehead. “She’s a little warm.”

“When was your period supposed to start?” asked Lila.

“Tomorrow,” you said, all three sharing a look. “Why...”

“I think Y/N’s going to start presenting soon,” said Jess. “Sammy, go help your brother with our new Alpha. It might take two of you to keep him there.”

“Keep him there? What the hell is Red doing to Dean?” you asked.

“He’s sort of stuck in that room until his rut passes. But if he’s in rut and you’re in heat, he’ll do anything he can to get here and claim you,” said Lila. “It’s best to keep you separated for the moment.”

“Lovely.”

It was close to midnight, Lila poking her head in the room you were staying in with a cranky baby in her arms.

“How you feeling?” she asked.

“Spectacular,” you groaned, Lila taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “I’m changing. I can feel it. I can smell it. I can smell you and that little guy and Jess and...I can even smell Dean down the street.”

“You’re Omega,” said Lila, patting your leg. “You and Dean need to be careful not to mate. I don’t know if whatever’s happening to you will become permanent.”

“Let me ask you a question,” you said, sitting up in bed, the pup turning his head towards you.

“You’re confused, aren’t you Drew? Mommy’s got a twin apparently,” she said, Drew tilting his head and reaching for you.

“How’d you convince your Dean to have one?” you asked, the baby grabbing a piece of your hair and pulling it in his mouth.

“He’s always wanted them,” she said with a smile. “Yours doesn’t?”

“We do but we can’t, not with our lives. We work in a high fatality industry if you want to call it that,” you said. “We wouldn’t do that to them.”

“Well you’re out of a job until we can get you back,” she said, taking Drew off of you. “Take the medicine I gave you again in the morning. It’ll help.”

“Why are you guys helping us?” you asked.

“We might not kick monsters asses on the regular but we do help people out when we can,” said Lila. “Get some rest. You need it, especially during your first heat.”

Three Days Later

“Hey,” you said, following Lila into her house, Dean sitting with Red and Sam in their family room.

“Damn, you smell good,” said Dean, taking a deep breath. “They said you turned too.”

“Yeah. Nothing’s too much different,” you said, Dean nodding his head. “You?”

“Plumbing’s got a new feature,” said Red with a smirk, Lila slapping him on the arm. “He’s an Alpha. He’s got a knot now.”

“What’s that like?” you said, Dean shifting in his seat. You could feel how nervous he was, trying to cover his lap with his hands. “You think I’ll reject you.”

“What the...” said Dean, your own eyes blinking fast at saying that aloud. “How could she...”

“It’s a mate thing,” said Red. “Y/N, Sammy’s been doing some research with Jess and they have a kind of crazy idea.”

“Crazy’s in our wheelhouse,” you said, walking over to sit next to Dean, taking one of his hands in yours.

You felt warmth spread throughout you, filling you up, nostrils inhaling what had been explained to you as Dean’s scent. Only he smelled like the best thing on earth and all you wanted were his teeth sinking into your neck. Sam picked you up and pulled you over to the other couch, Dean swallowing hard as you moved away.

“No touching,” said Sam in your ear, relaxing his hold on you as you realized you’d been squirming to get free. “The research we found was odd but we’re pretty sure that your rift thing will pop back open again. It’s been four days. You guys just need to last another three and then hopefully when you go home, you go back to normal.”

“I looked it over and it’s not exactly what I’d call reliable,” said Dean, crossing his arms. “As far as I can tell, magic, monsters, it doesn’t exist here. It’s an old wives tale Sam’s reading from about what’s probably not the rift.”

“But if magic doesn’t exist here, we can’t get back home,” you said.

“I know. I guess we have to wait and see if it was true.”

Three Days Later

“I can’t believe we’re back again,” you said, glancing around at the quiet bunker, Dean sighing beside you. “What?”

“I’m never going to see Sam again,” he said. “That wasn’t Sam back in there but it was and him and everyone else is gone again. Meanwhile, it’s me and you here, scraping by, giving up everything for nothing.”

“We hunt Dean. It’s what we do,” you said, wrapping your hand around his.

“I want to have a family with you. I want to have kids and a house and we will never, ever have those things here. We’re gonna sit in this bunker, working cases until one of us dies and that’s it. I know I will do this job until the day I die but I wanted a choice dammit and we will never get one,” said Dean. “Never.”

“I think we do have a choice, Dean,” you said, glancing back over your shoulder at the rift. “But we can’t undo it once we make it.”

“Go live there?” asked Dean, nodding behind himself. “What, we gonna play house? Pretend we aren’t screwed up?”

“Beats one of us dying and the other one drinking themselves to death,” you said. “We have saved so many people Dean. The world. This family has given up everything. I don’t want to leave either but we barely have anything left to fight in this place. A monster here or there. Other hunters can handle it. All of our friends and family are in that world and they aren’t ours but think of how they treated us the past week.”

“Like we were family,” said Dean quietly, rubbing his hands over his face. 

“I think our friends, our family, they’d want us to be happy again,” you said.

“Say we go back though, I’m stuck as an Alpha and you’re Omega,” said Dean.

“Even in this world, you smell amazing,” you said. “We don’t know if we’ll go back to normal.”

“I still feel like an Alpha,” said Dean, taking a deep breath. “All I want to do is be somewhere safe with you.”

“What do you want to do then?” you asked.

“I say we pack our bags.”

You were blinking furiously a few hours later, Dean panting hard as his hands gripped the steering wheel.

“Fuck!” you heard outside the car, your head whipping to the right to see Red dropping a hose and storming over.

“Hi Red,” you said, slipping out of the car, Red shaking his head.

“Did you bring a freaking car through your magic rift thingy? Why are you even back here? I thought we fixed it,” said Red.

“We uh,” said Dean, looking over to watch the rift close up once and for all. “We sort of moved universes.”

“Okay...” said Red, Dean climbing back in to pull the Impala around to the front of the house and in the street. “You realize saying both Y/N and I had long lost identical twins we never knew about is never going to fly, right?”

“Just say we were out of town, traveling the world,” you said. “Dean and I just wanted to stop by and say hi before we take off. We can find our own quiet corner to hide away in.”

“As pack members, you’re supposed to live close by,” said Red, crossing his arms.

“But we’re not in your pack,” you said.

“Not yet. You will be though,” said Red, kicking at the ground. “Unless you think we’re too weird for you guys with the dynamic thing.”

“I’m pretty sure Dean and I are the freaks around here,” you said, Red nodding his head. 

“Well, come inside. We should go over the dynamic crap in a bit more detail now that you’ll be living it.”

“You know what,” said Dean, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck later that night. Red and Lila had taken Drew over to his parent’s house to spend the night, having their own date night and saying they’d catch up in the morning.

“What,” you sighed, running your hand up and down his back, his new scent coming off his bare back in strong waves, making you warm and calm.

“I’d like to claim you if that’s alright with you,” said Dean. 

“You can,” you said, turning your head so Dean lifted his own to look at you.

“Are you sure? Brand new universe, plenty of Alphas in the sea,” he teased.

“I want this one,” you said, putting a hand on his chest. “Red explained it to you?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s pretty much sex up until the claiming part and instinct will take over,” said Dean. “If you’re ready for that.”

“I’m ready for it. Alpha,” you said, Dean taking a deep breath. “Why doesn’t that sound as corny as it did a week ago?”

“I don’t know, Omega,” said Dean, a smile spreading across your face. “But it damn sure feels right.”

“Oh,” you said, a blush on your cheeks at the sudden wetness between your legs. “Lila mentioned that might happen.”

“Get out of those underwear, Omega. We’re doing this.”

Two Months Later

“You didn’t tell me your Dean was a handyman,” said Lila, sitting on a lawn chair, watching Drew play on his mat in the grass as the boys walked around the freshly dried foundation of your new house. 

“He’s good at a lot of things. He knows more about cars than houses but he’ll put in as much manual labor as he can,” you said, Drew crawling over to tug on your leg. “It’s Aunt Y/N, handsome. Here’s your mommy.”

“I think the twins want you,” said Lila, laughing as Dean and Red cocked their heads over at you. At a quick glance, most people assumed they were twins but it was easy for you to spot the differences. Red wasn’t quite as bowlegged and had no tattoo on his chest. Dean had more freckles and his shoulders looked broader, at least to you. 

“Boys,” you said, Dean walking on the subfloor to somewhere around the middle of the house. “Yes?”

“We have a disagreement on the layout,” said Red. “Dean wants a little library room which is cool and Lila will be super jealous that I didn’t think of one for her but why’s it got to go in the middle? Wouldn’t you prefer it to be on the edge of the house with a window seat? Or a nice big cubby to put a day bed in?”

“Library, huh?” you asked, Dean smirking to himself. “Make it a large hall way, double sided bookcases on each side, maybe some big comfy chairs in the middle, a coffee table. It’s more of a pass through that way and you’ll still get the light from the back windows.”

“That’s actually a really good idea,” said Red. “Any other tidbits of wisdom you want to spout off?”

“Make it feel like home,” you said, Dean smiling. 

“We will. We definitely will.”

_____________

[agathaandbrienneslesbian]

In Your Words

Larissa Weems x Fem!Journalist!Reader

Hiya! I've finally finished this bad boy <3 I'm uploading this lengthy fic cause I'll be having a shit ton of Uni Exams the next few weeks and won't be able to write.

Big thanks to @weemssapphic and some other friends for proofreading this fic <3

Disclaimer: English is not my first language!

Warning: SMUT 18+, minors DNI

Authors Note: Y/N is a newsreporter and wants to write a story about Nevermore and outcasts. What happens if a normie Journalist and an outcast Headmistress work together? (I suck at descriptions, have fun xD)

Words: 9'200+

Ao3 Link

Taglist

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You sat in your little office at the news station of Jericho, finger hovering over the mouse of your computer. You were hesitating. The cursor sat neatly atop the ‘send’ button, ready to send your email to its recipient. But you hesitated. Why? You didn’t know. 

It’s true that it was frowned upon to interact with the outcasts, but you just couldn’t believe that they were as terrible as everyone said they were. You have seen them plenty of times strolling through the little city, shopping and stopping by the Weathervane for a drink. None of them ever seemed malicious or evil to you. With a deep inhale, you pressed send and quickly shut your computer off. There's no going back now. 

—

The next day at the office, you were surprised to find that the Headmistress of Nevermore Academy, Larissa Weems, has replied. With a nervous breath, you opened the email:

Dear Miss Y/l/n,

I am pleasantly surprised about learning of your interest in outcasts, my students and the school in general. There are, however, a few things I would like to clarify first.

Now, if I understood correctly, you wish to catch a glimpse into the life of an outcast to then create a report about our differences and similarities with non-outcasts? 

Because of the nature of this request, I have to let you know that I will not tolerate any sort of mockery or bad-mouthing of my students or my school. 

You will have to follow our rules, outcast or not. 

I won’t allow you to follow one of my students around, as this would pose a serious safety hazard for my students and yourself. 

However, you are very welcome to settle yourself into my office and follow me around for however many days you deem necessary. 

If this is alright with you, I would be willing to meet you coming Monday at the Weathervane and take you to the Academy. 

Sincerely,

Larissa Weems

You released the breath you were holding and smiled to yourself. You replied to Miss Weems, agreeing to her terms and wishing her a wonderful weekend. 

The following two hours consisted of preparing everything you needed for your report: a few notepads and notebooks, your laptop, a tablet, your camera and some pens. You couldn't help but feel nervous at the prospect of having the opportunity to report about the outcasts. This was not a subject anyone had ever really done research on, and you were adamant to figure out why everyone seemed so fearful of a bunch of teenagers in a school in the woods. 

Over the weekend, you exchanged a few more emails with the Principal, clearing up any last logistical problems you’ve had. 

You asked if you were allowed to stay for a week, to which she replied that it would be no problem if you agreed to stay in one of the empty studios that were meant for teachers at Nevermore. 

Of course, you agreed.

Monday rolled around, and you were standing in front of the Weathervane, waiting for the Principal of Nevermore to pick you up. You have heard descriptions of her, and you knew she frequented the little Café a lot, yet you have never seen her in person before. Absentmindedly, you sipped on your hot chocolate, typing something on your phone, when suddenly:

“Miss Y/l/n I presume?” A soft voice with a wonderful British accent sounded from beside you. You turned your head to be met with a beige coat. Having to look up you finally made eye contact with the woman whose beautiful voice ripped you out of your thoughts.

You smiled up at her, nervousness flooding your chest as you took in the beauty of the woman in front of you.

“Principal Weems. It’s a pleasure to meet you!” you said quietly, nerves completely taking over your logical mind and body. You reached your hand out to shake hers. She took her beige glove off, and took your hand in hers. Her hand was soft, warm and wrapped perfectly around yours. Perfectly manicured red nails decorated her pale skin. 

“Likewise!” She smiled down at you and removed her hand, putting her glove on again, and you immediately missed the feeling of her hand on yours. 

“Are you ready for us to leave, Miss Y/l/n?”

“Oh… yes, of course!” You grabbed your bag with your equipment and personal items and followed her to her car. You set your luggage in the boot and sat in the passenger seat. Larissa sat in the driver's seat and started driving towards the Academy. After some silence, you spoke up again.

“Thank you so much for letting me stay at the Academy for a week.” Larissa smiled to herself and quickly glanced over at you before eyeing the road again.

“I should thank you. My students usually don’t get this sort of… exposure to the outside world. We are used to people avoiding us because of… fear or discrimination… whatever you want to call it.” Her tone shifted to a quieter and more serious one, her hands gripping the steering wheel just a little tighter. You sensed a shift in energy and gave her a reassuring smile. 

“I believe everyone deserves a chance to be understood and seen.” You replied, and that seemed to relax the headmistress. She shot you a thankful smile, then focused back on the road, the rest of the ride being spent in comfortable silence.

—

Once at Nevermore, Larissa showed you around the grounds, having one of the teachers carry your possessions to the on-campus studio flat, which will be your new home for the following week. 

Roaming the halls, it didn’t seem much different than a school for regular humans (besides it being incredibly fancy, of course) and you found that the students seemed like sweet kids. Truly, you couldn’t understand how there was so much hatred and fear surrounding these kids. 

Larissa led you to her office, offering you a separate desk to work on. You set your laptop bag on the desk and turned to look at the headmistress, who was standing next to her desk.

“Now, Miss Y/l/n, you are free to follow me around the Academy whenever you want, but I trust you understand why I wouldn’t want you roaming the halls on your own.” She looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Of course, Miss Weems!” you reassured her quickly. “I understand how important it is for you to protect these kids… but I can assure you there are no ill intentions by me being here! After what I’ve seen thus far, I cannot believe why anyone would be fearful of outcasts. This is why I’m here. I don’t believe that these kids are as dangerous as everyone in Jericho, let alone the rest of the world, believes them to be.” You looked at her, and there was a slight shift of emotion on her face. Hope? Distrust? Surprise? You didn't know. After a few seconds of silence, the headmistress spoke up again.

“Very well,” she said, grinning at you with her million-dollar-winning smile. “If you ever feel like you would like to see more of the school or learn about its history, don’t be afraid to ask.” Her smile softened slightly. She seemed very fond of her students and her Academy. It truly warmed your heart, and you couldn't help but blush slightly. With a slight nod, you thanked her and sat down, getting your things ready to start your research. 

Every now and then throughout the morning, you caught yourself glancing over at the tall woman. She sat in perfect posture, working on her laptop and typing away on some emails or documents. You didn’t realise how long you had been staring at her. The way her eyes flicked over the screen and the way she swiftly moved her fingers over the keyboard had you in a trance-like state. Her perfectly painted red lip curled up on the side, and she raised one of her eyebrows.

“Has no one taught you that staring is rude?” Her eyes flicked over to yours, and you quickly averted your eyes back on your own screen, mumbling a quiet ‘sorry’ her way. Your face felt hot, and you knew you were blushing, hard. Larissa chuckled and shook her head a bit in amusement. She stopped her typing and leaned back against the seat, turning to look at you, studying you as if she were… considering you. Shyly, you moved your gaze back to her. 

“Would you like to have a look at one of the classes? Our subjects can vary drastically from the ones in your schools.” she smiled at you and tilted her head slightly. 

“I-I would appreciate that, yes.” You answered, nodding, and quickly moved to grab your notepad and pen. When you looked back up, Larissa was already standing and walking towards the door of her office, only stopping to wait for you to catch up. 

This morning, the headmistress took you to several classes, telling you about all the different subjects they have. You eagerly took notes, asking questions and listening intently to subjects you’d never heard of. Magic, transformation, siren song, etc. You were fascinated, and that didn’t get lost on Larissa. The longer she watched you, the more fond she grew of you. Your interest and amazement made her heart swell with pride for her school and her students. Even though she was rather careful of what to show you, she felt that this might be the biggest step ever made for outcasts to be accepted into everyday normie lives. 

—

The day went by way faster than you would have wished for it. You have learned so much and were eager to learn even more. Larissa had taken her time explaining their school system to you and while you saw drastic differences, it still didn’t feel too out of the norm. There was one particular student that caught your eye. A rebel, you thought, someone who likes to prank and go against the rules. Those exist in every school, of course, but this girl seemed different. She did it with such nonchalance and elegance that it was almost invisible to the untrained eye. 

After asking the headmistress, she told you about the student. Not much, just enough to answer your questions. Larissa seemed tense so you decided to change the subject, asking her about her own time at the school, and from then on the two of you got completely lost in conversation. Hours passed, and you shared your school experiences and collectively decided that they weren't all too different. With a heavy sigh, you leaned against the couch and watched Larissa refill yours and her wine glass. 

“I have to be honest, even after just one day I have seen enough to tell you that this,” you waved your hand around, “is definitely nothing to be afraid or weary of. I mean… I always knew that the other… “normies”... are being way too sensitive when it comes to this place and its students but seeing it for myself… I simply can’t understand why there's so much hate and fear towards these poor students.” You sighed and took a sip of wine. “I mean… they're just kids aren't they?” You glanced up at the headmistress to see her smiling at you softly, humming in agreement. 

“I have to be honest, Miss Y/l/n-”

“Y/n! You can call me Y/n if you want to,” you interrupted her with a smile, looking back into your glass as you felt your face blush.

“Y/n… I am surprised and… relieved.” She smiled sweetly at you then looked into the fireplace, a sad expression crossing her face. “I wish more people could see the kids for who they are instead of for what they are.” A sigh left her lips and she took a sip of wine. “It’s not easy being… different… an outcast. You can try all you want, there will always be a hint of fear and doubt in non-outcasts.” She turned to look at you, her icy blues piercing yours. “Are you afraid, Y/n?” she asked, quietly, almost inaudible, but you caught the slight shiver in her voice. It broke your heart to see her like this. You didn’t really know that woman except for what she was willing to tell you, but you knew, without a doubt, that she was the most precious being on the entire planet, and you would move planets just to see her at peace. Without really thinking about it, you set your glass down and moved to hold one of her hands.

“Miss Weems… Larissa… if I may?” you started, gently, and she nodded at you, “I do not claim to know what you and your students have to go through, day by day. Being villainized, misunderstood and what not. But what I do know is that I want to help you make a difference. The kids are nothing but kids… Powers and mutations aside… No matter how different you may seem from me, you are still a person. You don’t deserve to be treated like they treat you… all of you.” You smiled at her with a caring expression on your face and gently squeezed her hand. Larissa looked at you, eyes trained on your face, searching for lies, but she couldn't find any. She inhaled shakily and took a big sip of her wine then squeezed your hands back.

“Thank you,” was all she replied. You didn’t need more. You knew she meant it. You felt it. With a last gentle squeeze, you let go of her hand, grabbing your glass again.

“To my… to our project!” you smirked and raised your glass to her. She chuckled and shook her head slightly, looking back at you endearingly and raised her glass as well. 

“To our project.”

—

As the week went on, Larissa and you started to develop a little routine. You would meet her in the morning to go to the Weathervane and get some breakfast to-go, spend the morning in her office or with a teacher of her choice (mostly Marilyn Thornhill), have lunch with her and the teachers, writing and researching in Larissas office, a dinner with staff and at the end of the day, a glass (or sometimes a bottle) of her favourite wine on the couch in front of the fireplace. Being around Larissa was incredibly easy. You loved talking to her, listening to her, discussing topics other than schools and outcasts. You felt safe, comfortable… you felt at home. And you weren’t the only one who felt this way. Larissa would catch herself, more than she’d like to admit, looking at you, watching you with adoration as you wrote and researched. She liked you. It wasn't a secret. She loved being around you and was looking forward to the evenings at the fireplace. A refreshing difference she desperately needed. Larissa had grown very fond of you, and she hoped you felt the same. 

When Friday evening rolled around you were already sitting on the couch in Larissa’s office, waiting for her to come back with the wine as it suddenly hit you. It was already Friday… you’ll be leaving again on Monday. You’ll have to go back to your office and finish the report. Would you be able to see her again? Could you stay in contact? Larissa entered, placing the bottle and glasses on the table then saw the light crease between your brows as you stared into the flames of the fireplace, obviously deep in thought. 

“Y/n?” she asked softly, and laid her hand on your shoulder, and you snapped your head towards her, not having heard her appear next to you. “Are you alright dear?” 

“Yeah!..yeah.” You smiled up at her, watching her sit down next to you and opening the wine bottle. “I’ve just realised that it’s already Friday… The week really went by in a flash, huh?” You took the wineglass she held out to you and looked at it, swishing the red liquid around absent-mindedly. Larissa’s heart constricted seeing you like this. 

“It did! But… as upsetting as it is, I am glad to see that you enjoyed your week here!” She took a sip of her wine and watched you closely. “That being said, seeing how my students seemed to like you being around,” and I, she thought, “you are more than welcome to return whenever you feel like it.” She watched you closely, seeing your eyes light up made her feel warm and content. 

“I would love that Larissa. Thank you! And you are always welcome at the news station. I’ll make sure the others behave, don't worry.” you giggled and winked at her which pulled a small laugh from her lips and she shook her head amusedly. “I mean it!” You smiled as you snuggled into the couch and took a sip of wine, humming as the liquid hit your tongue, “If any of your students ever wants to know more about journalism or is interested in it, let me know. Matter of fact…” you sat up and straightened your back, holding your hand out to the blonde, “give me your phone I’ll give you my number so you can just let me know in case there is something.” 

Larissa hesitated. She looked at your hand for a second, then smiled shyly and grabbed her phone, unlocking it and handing it to you to type in your number. She watched fondly as you typed your number in her phone. A slight tingle spread from her chest over her body as she took her phone back after you’ve saved your number. 

“Thank you!” she said quietly, “I- really do appreciate it… everything you do. For us. Me and the students.” A soft pink colour kissed her cheeks and she gave you a truly heartfelt smile. You smiled back at her, butterflies spreading through your whole body. Her smile was the most beautiful thing you have ever seen. You knew right there, she had you wrapped around her finger. You have fallen. 

—

You were able to finish your report on the last day of your stay in Nevermore, handing it in to be reviewed by your boss so it could be printed and released asap. With a heavy sigh, you leaned back into the chair, stretching your arms and back. Larissa smiled over at you and set her paperwork aside.

“I take it you’ve just handed in your story to be reviewed?” she asked with a gentle smile. Her eyes held a hint of sadness at the realisation that her office would be empty once again. You smiled over at her and nodded gently.

“Yes! Just handed it in! If everything goes well, you’ll be able to read it on Tuesday! And Larissa… thank you again… for everything!” 

The blonde stood up, walking over to your side, and placed her hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently. 

“I should thank you. This… means way more to us than you could ever imagine!” Her smile was warm, eyes soft. You felt a shudder rush down your spine as you realised that you haven’t seen her this soft with anyone but you. All of this vulnerable affection was only directed towards you, only to be seen by your eyes. 

You wanted to tell her… tell her that you like her. Tell her that she is the most beautiful woman you’ve ever had the pleasure to lay your eyes on. Just as you were about to open your mouth, she pulled away. 

“If you want to, I can drive you back. I could drop you off at the Weathervane or.. At your place, if you prefer?” Larissa spoke, closing her laptop and putting her paperwork into a drawer. The headmistress didn’t want you to go, but she knew that if she would let you stay longer, she wouldn't be able to hold herself back. Certainly you wouldn’t feel the same… right?

“That.. that would be nice! Thank you!” you replied, feeling defeated. Maybe it was better to keep your feelings to yourself. Who knows, maybe she wasn’t interested in women.. Or simply normies. You took a deep breath, collecting your things and going to your room to pack the last few things. When you returned to the headmistress’ office, she was already waiting for you. 

The drive back to Jericho was rather quiet. Neither of you knew what to say to the other. You wanted to tell her everything, pour your heart out to her and so did she, but you stayed quiet. Once you arrived at your Flat Complex, Larissa turned to you. 

“It was really nice having you at Nevermore. Again, thank you for doing this for us. And… If you should ever want to come and visit, you are more than welcome to do so! I am sure the Students would love to see you again sometime.” and herself… but she didn't say that.  You gave her a genuine smile, nodding slightly. 

“I enjoyed my week there! You truly have wonderful students. And, I mean, you have my number so… if you or any of the kids should ever need something, just feel free to contact me!” You hoped she would contact you, but only time could tell. 

—

It has been a month since you’ve last heard from Larissa. Your article got approved, and she complimented you on it, thanking you again profusely. That was the last, and only, time you’ve heard of her after staying at Nevermore. Sure, she was a busy woman, but you couldn’t help but feel upset. And you wouldn’t text her first, no. The anxiety that arose in you every time you tried to do so was enough to completely freeze you. So when you walked into the Weathervane on a Thursday morning to grab a coffee, you were more than delighted to see her there, quickly walking up to her.

“Good morning, Principal Weems” you said softly, watching her turn around and seeing her eyes light up as she saw you. 

“Good morning Y/N!” she replied with a smile. That darn beautiful smile of hers. “Are you also here to grab some breakfast before work?” she asked, turning fully to you, all herattention focused on you, your face, those eyes she came to admire over the time you’ve spent at her school. 

“I am but.. Uhm… if you’re not in a hurry, would you like to have breakfast with me?” you did it, you asked her. The second the question left your lips, you felt your cheeks heat up. Larissa looked at you with adoration and nodded. 

“I would love to, actually!” She smiled and tilted her head slightly. She noticed your blush and couldn’t help but feel giddy about it. Was she the reason you blushed?

“Wonderful! What do you want? It’s my treat!” You smile, feeling a bit more confident now, seeing her soft and happy gaze directed only at you. 

“Oh, you really don’t have to-”

“But I want to!” 

Larissa sighed, shaking her head slightly with a grin, and chuckled at how adamant you were.

“Fine. Next time, it’s my treat!” She gave you her order and went to sit at a booth, waiting for you to join her. You couldn’t believe your ears. Next time? There will be a next time? The smile that spread on your lips could only be described as the smile of a happy fool. Truly, you were a fool. A fool for her. 

After you’ve ordered and paid for your coffees and pastries, you made your way over to her, slipping into the booth. 

“So… how have you been? How have the kids been?” you asked, trying to make small talk. You felt so awkward, but that feeling quickly washed away as you saw Larissa’s soft smile.

“Very well! Your report had quite the impact on how people from Jericho treat my students. I just wanted to thank you again. The effect this has had on our lives is way greater than I could have hoped for. The article… your words… truly left an impact.” She reached her hand out, grabbing yours and squeezing it lightly.

“Thank you!”

Your smile grew tenfold, and you squeezed her hand back. 

“I am so happy to hear that this has worked out so well for you and your students.” You shyly pulled your hand back and thanked the waiter when he placed your drinks and pastries in front of you.

“How have you been y/n?” Larissa asked. She was looking at you… into you… into your soul with those beautiful ice-y blue eyes. You felt your cheeks heat up and grabbed your cup as well, trying to ground yourself. 

“I’ve been well! The Article has caught a lot of attention, so I’ve been rather busy lately…” You smiled at her and took a sip as she watched. 

“Though I do have to say, I miss being around the kids…” and around you, you thought to yourself. The blonde eyed you over her coffee mug and smiled sweetly. 

“In that case, would you like to come to the Rave’N this weekend?” She did it… she asked you. Her heart was beating like crazy but seeing the light blush covering your face she couldn't help but feel proud of herself. 

“The Rave’N? Really?” You asked, not believing your ears. Larissa nodded and tilted her head. 

“Yes really! Our theme this year is ‘Climate crisis meets extinction effect’ and the dress code is white.” She took a bite of her pastry and smiled at you. You thought for a second. You didn’t have any white outfits, so you’d definitely have to buy one, but you’d be damned if you wouldn’t agree to her invitation.

“In that case, I’d love to!” The smile you gave her made Larissa’s heart melt. How were you so precious? She nodded slightly. 

“I’ll have Marilyn pick you up here at around 5:30pm on Saturday. The students will be excited to see you again!” She finished her coffee and snack and stood up.

“I’d love to stay longer, but I have to get back to Nevermore… I’ll see you this Saturday, dear.” and with that, she left your flustered self in the Weathervane.

—

Shopping for an appropriate but also impressive garment was not easy. You currently had 2 dresses in front of you and couldn’t decide which one to pick. One was made of silk and rather simple but had an extravagant high slit up your right thigh and a very low back, whereas the other covered more of your back and arms but was a bit shorter with a princess gown puff skirt. You sighed and decided to put them on again, took a picture of you wearing them and sent them to Marilyn. You and her had gotten rather close during the week you spent at Nevermore, and you’d kept contact even afterwards. She was such a sweetheart, but she was also a pain in the ass as she has been nagging you about your outfit all afternoon already. 

It didn’t take long for you to be flooded with messages of Marilyn going crazy over the silk dress. 

Marilyn:

“Oh, you SO have to get the silky one! Larissa won’t be able to keep her eyes off of you”

Y/N:

“What do you mean? Why would you say that?”

Marilyn: 

“Oh come ooooon… It is SOOOOOOO obvious that you have the hots for her… just pick the silk one.”

You were sure Marilyn would laugh at you if she could see you right now. Your face was bright red because you’d been found out. Was it really that obvious? Did Larissa know? Was that why she invited you? Could she... no. No, that probably wasn’t the case... Just wishful thinking. With a sigh you looked back on your phone. 

Y/N:

“Fine. I’ll get the silk one. But just because you picked it 😛”

You got dressed again and went to buy the garment. 

Once back at home, you took your time to look for hair and makeup inspiration to complete your look and be ready for Saturday. Marilyn and you had been texting back and forth all day, and she’d helped you pick the perfect hairstyle and makeup for the Rave’N.

You were nervous… of course you were, but there was this little glimmer of hope starting to take hold within you. Maybe Larissa really did like you.

—

You were waiting in front of the Weathervane for Marilyn to come and pick you up. 

Were you nervous? Absolutely! 

Were you excited? Definitely! 

But you couldn’t help and worry… worry about… you were actually not sure. Your nerves were getting the better of you and there was nothing that could be done against it. Not that you haven’t tried… you definitely did! You went through every trick in the book.

Breathing exercise? No effect.

Meditation? Nothing.

A tea? That just made you worried that you would spill it on your dress, so that wasn’t helping at all. 

So you just stood there… waiting.

“Hey! You good?” you suddenly heard someone call out to you and released a sigh. 

“Marilyn! Hey!” You smiled at your friend and got into the car, leaning over to give her a hug. 

“Not really… my nerves are taking over right now.” You groaned. 

“You’re just making yourself crazy over nothing! Relax! You’ll be fine!” she smirked and turned her gaze back onto the road, starting towards Nevermore. 

“You look amazing by the way!”

You chuckled and looked out of the window. You did look nice… it also took you forever to get ready. You had braided some hair along the sides of your head and pulled everything up into a fluffy space bun, which you decorated with some crystal pins. Your makeup was soft, in nude colours, with a soft peach lip and some sparkly eyeshadow on your eyelids. The dress fit perfectly and hugged every curve of your body, and you had found the perfect off-white heels in your closet. 

“Thank you! Wouldn’t have managed to pull this off without you!” You smile and look over at the redhead. Marilyn was grinning to herself.

“If you two hook up, I deserve to be invited to dinner by you!” Your shocked gasp caused her to laugh out loud.

“Oh come on! I know you want her… and to be quite honest…” She raised an eyebrow and glanced over at you with a mischievous smirk. “I think the feelings are mutual.”

The blush that spread on your face was all Marilyn needed to know she was right.

“You’ll see! She’ll be absolutely smitten with you looking like this.”

“We’ll see…” you reply, watching the scenery outside. 

Marilyn parked the car and ran around to open the door for you with a dramatic bow. 

“M’lady.” she chuckled, and you rolled your eyes amusedly as you got out of the car. 

“You’re an idiot!” 

The teacher smirked and moved to hold her arm out for you to hold. She led you into the building and guided you towards the great hall. 

You weren’t expecting to be swarmed by students the second you entered the ballroom. 

“Hi Y/N! What are you doing here?”

“You look gorgeous! Who invited you?”

“It’s so nice you’re back! Come! Let's go dance!”

“Do you want something to drink? I’ll get you some punch!”

You were being surrounded and swarmed by the students, and it warmed your heart to see how excited they were by your presence. Marilyn slipped away from you without you noticing, the second she realised someone was walking up to the newly formed commotion around your presence. You struggled answering all of their questions when suddenly you felt a hand on your shoulder and the students grew quiet. 

“Now, now… dear y/n has just arrived, don’t crowd her like that. You’ll have enough time to have a chat with her tonight.” The smooth British voice echoed from behind you and a pleasant shudder ran down your spine. The students nodded and went back to their friends on the dance floor. You turned around to look up at the principal. 

Larissa couldn’t help but let her eyes roam over your figure. The dress you chose was absolutely exquisite, your makeup complimenting the simplicity of the outfit and your hair that just looked too soft. Vulgar thoughts flooding her mind as she finally caught your eyes. You were looking up at her with big doe eyes, so innocent and sweet. 

“Come in! Want something to drink?” she asked as she gently took your arm and led you into the ballroom. You couldn’t believe your eyes. Larissa looked… She was a goddess. Her hair was up like always but decorated with some intricate curls, her usual red lipstick a wonderful contrast to the silver dress she was wearing. Looking up at her, you saw her eyes scanning you, your heart skipping a beat. Her pupils dilated as she finally landed on your eyes, and you had to suppress a whimper. This woman will be the death of you. It took you a few seconds to register her question and notice her arm intertwined with yours. 

“I- yes… please!” you answered quietly, not being able to suppress the grin gracing your lips. 

Larissa handed you a glass of punch and took one herself. You stood at the edge of the dance floor with her, watching the kids having fun. 

You really wanted to dance with her, but didn’t know how to ask. Should you ask? What if she said no? What if she thought you were weird, and she only wanted to invite you for the kids’ sake? But… What if she said yes? What then? You didn’t know how to dance. Sure, you have visited your fair share of parties, but you didn’t think you were a good dancer. And what if you started dancing, and you didn’t do it right, and she would start laughing and-

“What's going on in that head of yours, darling?” Larissa’s soft voice pulled you out of your thoughts. You looked up at her just to catch her already looking at you. Her eyes were soft, a hint of concern shimmering in them. She looked so… soft. You just wanted to pull her into an embrace, a kiss, soft and full of affection. Taking a breath in, you set your glass on a table then held your hand out to her.

“Would you like to dance, Larissa?” you asked, heart hammering in your chest as you saw her eyes widen ever so slightly in surprise. A sweet pink hue coloured her cheeks as she blinked at you a few times, registering what you just asked her. Larissa quickly placed her glass on the table next to yours and moved to put her hand into yours, looking up at you with a shy smile, nodding. 

“I would love to!” she said quietly, almost above a whisper. The bright smile that appeared on her face was enough to get her heart racing and head spinning. Your eyes were practically sparkling with glee, and it made her feel so fuzzy and warm inside. To have such happiness and excitement directed towards her was a privilege she’s never experienced before. You giddily pulled her onto the dance floor, not believing your luck. 

Marilyn was watching from the corner, watching as you pulled Larissa onto the dance floor. She smirked at the two of you, but something felt weird… the music!

A mischievous smirk graced her features as she waddled off to the DJ and asked him to play a slow and romantic song. The second the music changed, you and Larissa shot a look over at the DJ, seeing Marilyn standing there, innocently waving at the two of you. Oh, you were so going to get revenge on her for that. Your anxiety started kicking in again, but before you could start overthinking it you felt warm hands on your waist. Larissa was pulling you closer, and she just hoped you wouldn’t pull away. 

“Is this okay?” Her piercing blue orbs held steady eye contact with you, and you felt your face heat up. With a nod, you move to place your arms on her shoulders, hands close to her neck. She smiled and started swaying with you to the rhythm of the song. Seeing you so shy and flustered by her gave her the necessary courage to take a step closer. She leaned her head down to your ear, causing a shiver to run down your spine. 

“You look absolutely delectable tonight, my dear. Have you picked this outfit just for me?” Her hot breath on your skin caused you to bite your lip. You nodded.

“I was hoping you’d like it.” You replied quietly. Larissa tightened her grip on you, squeezing your waist gently, which caused a gasp to leave your lips. 

“Dressing up nicely just for me?” She husked, feeling herself getting more confident. Emboldened by the way your body… you reacted to her. 

“You’re such a good girl!” You could hear the smirk in her voice. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.

“It’s a shame this dress will be laying somewhere scattered in my quarters after this ball is over.” 

You tightened your grip on her shoulders, pulling her closer. Your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest. The tension was high, atmosphere thick with desire. You felt your knees tremble, ready to take whatever she was willing to give you. You pulled your head back a bit, just enough to look into her eyes, and what you saw almost made you whimper with anticipation. Her usually so pale blue eyes were dark, lustrous, her breathing heavier than usual and her lips were slightly parted. 

Before either of you could say or do anything, you felt something drip on your cheek. Confusedly, you blinked a few times, and Larissa eyed your cheek in concern.

The drips quickly multiplied, and soon you were showered in, what you believed to be, blood. Your eyes widened as you looked around, unable to move. Everything was getting soaked with this red liquid. What was happening?

Larissa was the first to move. She pulled away from you but grabbed your hand and quickly led you outside, the other staff helping the kids get out of the ballroom as well. Some fled into the courtyard and some into the school halls. There was a big commotion amongst the students, and you and Larissa immediately sprang into action, trying to calm the scared kids. Marilyn came running with a pile of blankets and towels to wrap around the sopping pupils. 

Whatever had happened, it was clearly meant as an attack of sorts. You were fuming.  Even after all the positive feedback you got for your report, there were still some bad apples in the normie bunch. If you ever caught who did that, they would surely regret pulling a stunt like that.

—

After the, you now knew it to be, red dyed water attack, you helped Larissa, Marilyn and the other employees to bring the kids inside and to their dorm rooms. After the last student was brought to their room, you stood in the foyer, watching Larissa talk to the Sheriff. You could tell she was agitated… mad. But yet she kept her composure, talked calmly and was respectful. A light bump against your shoulder alerted you to the presence of your friend.

“Hey… thanks for your help! You really didn’t have to, you know?” Marilyn smiled defeatedly at you, and you returned the smile. 

“It’s okay! I really didn’t mind… Just wished that this wouldn’t have happened… it’s not like they already have it hard enough and now that… I was really hoping that my report had a bigger impact but-”

“Don’t say that!” Marilyn interrupted, “Your article was eye-opening for so many people in town! It definitely helped! Big time! There’s just always gonna be a few assholes trying to ruin everything again.” She was clearly frustrated as well. You looked at her and chuckled, then shook your head. 

“I guess you’re right..” You sighed and rubbed the back of your neck. The two of you stood in silence for a while until Marilyn noticed you watching Larissa again and smirked. 

“Such a shame the two of you got interrupted! It almost seemed as if you were about to kiss.” She teased and your, admittedly already red, face started blushing furiously. You hit her arm lightly.

“Stop teasing!” You hissed, but Marilyn just laughed and nudged you again. 

“What are we laughing about?” You both turned your head towards the voice and saw the headmistress standing in front of you. One perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised in curiosity. Marilyn just chuckled and smirked at you, then at Larissa. 

“Oh nothing important…” She took a deep breath and then clapped her hands together, “Well… I’ll be off… gotta get that red dye out of my hair somehow. Bye bye.” She waved at the two of you, leaving you alone with Larissa once more. She really had the audacity to leave you in situations like these every single time she had the opportunity to. You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. Larissa watched Marilyn in confusion, then turned to you.

“Y/N… thank you for helping out with the students! I- am so sorry you had to experience this…” She sounded… sad, upset, worried? You looked up at her and saw her looking at you. 

“It’s quite alright! I’m just sad they had to experience that! It’s not fair… they’re good kids and I just don't get why anyone would want to harm them in any way…” You gave her a sad smile, then shyly reached out and grabbed her hand to squeeze it lightly. 

“But I did really enjoy dancing with you, Larissa…” she smiled back at you and squeezed your hand back. 

“As did I… uhm… would you like to come back to my quarters and get that paint washed off? Maybe have a glass of wine?” She was nervous. She was nervous and you could tell. The way her hand lightly trembled, and her eyes darted away from yours while asking. It filled your heart with that fuzzy warm feeling. You nodded and stepped to the side, still holding her hand. 

“Lead the way!”

—

In Larissa’s quarters, she quickly went into the bathroom, returning with a damp cloth and some makeup wipes in the hopes of getting the dye off your skin and hair. You managed to wipe the paint off your face without any issues, but it really stuck to your hair. Larissa went to quickly shower off the paint, and you couldn't help but think about her in the shower. Water streaming down that smooth alabaster skin. You wished you could have joined her. 

As Larissa got out of the shower, your breath got stuck in your throat. Her damp hair framed her face in gentle curls. She wasn’t wearing any makeup now, and you seriously didn’t think that this woman could get any more beautiful, but, alas, it seems you were mistaken. Before you stood a goddess in champagne coloured silk pyjamas. 

Larissa blushed lightly and smiled at you as she saw you staring. She walked up to you and gently examined your hair, your nostrils filling with the scent of her shampoo by the close proximity of her. 

“Seems the dye really stuck to your hair… here.” She handed you a fresh towel and some spare pyjamas. 

“You can take a shower if you want to!” She added quietly. You smiled back at her and nodded, taking the items in your hands. 

“Thank you! I’ll… uhm… I’ll be right back” You stammered out and quickly made your way to the bathroom. It was luxurious, like the rest of her quarters. You weren't surprised that she handed you the probably softest towel ever and the most luxurious pyjama you ever had the honour of wearing. This woman had an immaculate taste, and it was evident in every aspect of her life. 

After your quick shower, you tossed the towel into the laundry hamper in the corner of the room and walked out, your dress in your hands. That was definitely ruined now.

You entered the living room again and saw Larissa sitting on her couch in front of the fireplace, two glasses and a bottle of wine on the small table in front of it. You put your dress in your bag and sat next to her. She looked over and smiled softly, handing you a glass of wine, which you took gratefully. 

“Thank you! And thanks that I got to use your shower and… borrow some clothes! I really appreciate it.” You smiled at her and took a sip of the wine. Holy mother of god… of course, the wine was absolutely spectacular. Larissa smiled. 

“Don’t mention it. It’s the least I could do.. Plus, I do have to admit I like how my Pyjamas look on you.” She smirked and took a sip of her wine. Larissa eyed you as you just looked at her with wide eyes and a bashful look on your face. You sat the glass down and turned to look at her, clearly gathering your courage to say whatever was on your mind. She thought you looked adorable like that. However, what came out of your mouth next was not something she’d expected to hear. 

“It’s truly a shame that you didn’t get to take my dress off and discard it somewhere in your room…” You smirked at her smugly, but before you could continue your teasing, she had you already pressed against the cushion of the couch. Looking at her, you saw her eyes were full of lust, full of hunger. She gently lifted your head with her finger under your chin, forcing you to keep eye contact as she gently pressed her knee between your legs. You inhale sharply and look at her, lust evident in your gaze. 

“If you want me, all you have to do is say it.” She husked, ghosting her lips over yours. Larissa loved the way you trembled underneath her, but every time you tried to close the gap, she would pull away. 

“You have to say it, darling,” she whispered. You were getting restless, a needy whine escaping you. 

“Please Larissa…” You whimper and look at her with your best puppy eyes. 

“Please what, darling?”

“Please… I need you… I want you,” you breathe out. The heat began to build, and you could already feel that you were soaked. Larissa grinned down at you. 

“Good girl!” 

You didn’t have time to react as Larissa finally closed the gap, pulling you into a bruising kiss. It was so full of need and lust. Your lips moved against hers in perfect harmony. Wrapping your arms around her, you pulled her close. 

The kiss quickly grew hot, passionate. Larissa bit your lower lip, causing you to gasp and giving her the perfect opportunity to deepen the kiss. She explored your mouth with her tongue, leaving you in a state of dizzying bliss. Her skilled tongue fought with yours for dominance, kissing you with such fervour that both of you almost ran out of breath. 

You pulled apart just quickly to catch your breaths before Larissa attacked your neck with hot open-mouthed kisses. Trailing her tongue over your pulse point, then latching on to it and sucking hard. Your back arched into her, head tilting to the side to give her better access. 

The aching between your legs became almost unbearable. You wrapped one of your legs around her hips, pulling her closer, but Larissa gently pulled away, causing a pathetic whine to escape. 

“Patience darling!” She husked as she sat up and swiftly picked you up, carrying you to her bedroom and dropping you on the bed. The second you laid there, she was already on you again, her lips continuing their assault on your neck. Larissa moved to slowly unbutton the pyjama shirt you were wearing, but you were too impatient. With a swift motion, you helped her unbutton the rest of the shirt and pulled it off of your body, leaving you with a bare chest. Larissa chuckled darkly. 

“Impatient are we?” she roamed her hands over your soft stomach, cupping one of your breasts. Dipping her head down again, she moved to the other breast and took your hardened nipple in her mouth, teasing it with her teeth and tongue. You moved your hands in her hair, pulling gently at the sensation she was rewarding you with. Larissa moaned against your breast as a reaction which caused you to buck your hips up. You were so desperate for her, and it was so pathetic, but you didn’t care. All you could feel, small, taste, hear, was her. And you needed more.

“Rissa please,” you groaned as you felt her lips travel towards the hem of the pyjama trousers. 

“Need you,” you breathed out. Looking down, you saw her smirk up at you. As she pulled away again you were about to protest but seeing her take her blouse off silenced you immediately. You sat up, reaching out to her and running your fingertips over her body, watching goosebumps spreading over her skin. You cupped her breasts and massaged them, teasing her nipples with your fingers as you leaned in to kiss her. 

Larissa melted into your touch and kiss. Quiet sighs and moans leaving her lips as she laid you back down. 

“I need to taste you darling,” she whispered between kisses, and you whimpered in response, nodding gently. 

“Please! Please…” 

Larissa kissed her way down your body again, pulling the trousers down as she moved her kisses down your legs. She threw the trousers somewhere into the dark of the room, then moved her hands to your knees, spreading your legs gently. She groaned at the sight of a wet spot on your white lace underwear. The blonde looked up at you, watching your reaction as she ran her thumb over the wet spot, pressing down on it gently. Your back arched off the bed and your mouth opened in a quiet moan. 

“P- please Rissa… need you so bad,” you whimpered, rolling your hips against her thumb, needing more friction. In any other situation Larissa would have loved to tease you more, but she was just as desperate to taste you as you were to feel her tongue on you. So without further pause, she swiftly pulled your thong down your legs. She almost moaned at the sight of your glistening cunt in front of her. 

“All of this because of me?” she groaned and moved to kiss the inside of your thigh as you nodded. 

“You’re such a good girl, y/n.'' Larissa couldn't hold back any more. She had to taste you. The smell of your arousal made her mouth water and her head dizzy. The second her tongue made contact with your wet and hot cunt, the breath got stuck in your throat and Larissa let out one of the most vulgar moans you’ve ever heard, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head. 

Larissa wasted no time in eating you out. Her tongue danced around your clit before she captured it between her lips and sucked. You moaned out loud, her name falling off your lips like a prayer. The way she used her mouth on you made you feel ecstatic, you felt like you were on cloud nine. The world, every responsibility you had, everything that has ever bothered or hurt you, everything that has been on your mind and stressing you out lately was just gone. 

Larissa never slowed her ministrations on you, listening to your cues, noticing how your body reacted to certain things. She loved how easily your body reacted to her. It's like you were made to be pleased by her. 

“R-issa… need more..” you gasped out between moans. You needed more of her, needed her in you. Larissa smirked and ran her tongue over the length of your slit one last time before rubbing two of her fingers against your entrance gently, coating it with your slick. You were so desperate to feel her fill you up, your hips rolling against her, motioning for her to stop teasing you. She easily slipped one finger in as soon as she thought they were wet enough. You let out a low moan and moved against her as she started pumping her finger in and out slowly. After a while, she pushed a second finger in and watched you grip the sheets. 

“You take me so well, my love.” She praised and moved kisses up your body as she picked up speed with her fingers. Larissa managed to hit spots no one ever had, curling her fingers against that soft, spongy spot that made you see stars. Your walls clenched around her fingers, and you felt the coil tighten in your abdomen. 

“M’close… Riss-ah” your moans only spurred her on more. She wanted to hear you, she wanted to see you come undone, she wanted to hear her name on your lips over and over and over again. Larissa picked up her pace again, using her thumb to rub small circles over your sensitive clit. The coil in your abdomen was about to snap, and she felt it. 

“That's it! Cum for me, y/n. Let me hear you,” she husked into your ear as she nibbled on your earlobe. That was all you needed for the coil to snap. Your legs and arms wrapped around her, needing her impossibly close as you came on her hand with a cry of her name. Larissa was gentle. She helped you ride out your orgasm and then very carefully pulled her fingers out. Your limbs went weak and dropped from her. You lay on the bed, breathing heavily and exhausted. You felt a shift on the bed but didn't have the strength to open your eyes. A few minutes later you felt the mattress dip again then felt a soft, damp and warm sensation between your legs. Larissa had gotten some towels to help clean you up. She used the damp one to clean between your legs and used a dry one to dab the sweat off your face. 

A soft smile spread over your lips as the blonde returned the towels, then came back and laid in bed next to you. Pulling her closer, you started to press soft sleepy kisses to her chin and neck, but she stopped you gently. You looked up at her with a pout, and she kissed your forehead gently. 

“Rest!” She whispered and pulled you close. You frowned at her. 

“But I want to make you feel good too,” you whispered back and held tightly onto her. She just shook her head, a content and also sleepy smile gracing her features. 

“You can. Tomorrow! We have all day to ourselves tomorrow,” she replied and stroked your cheek gently, looking into your eyes lovingly. You smiled and nodded, snuggling into her embrace, you let out a quiet and content sigh. This felt right. This felt like home. 

“Good Night Rissa.” 

“Good Night y/n.”

-------

I hope you liked it <3 Comments are greatly appreciated :3

[lowkeyrobin]

yesss love, just saw that ur accepting requests heheheh 🥰🥰

Could I request a Minho x fem reader one, where the gladers are all chilling and having fun together by a lake in the deadheads (similar vibes to bonfire night) and some gladers decide to give her a “proper greenie welcome” by picking her up and throwing her in the lake. However, she can’t swim and tries to resist them but they don’t believe her so still throw her in. She almost drowns, crying for help and Minho jumps in and rescues her. Minho carries her out, and gets mad at them, almost picking a fight.

From here she sees Minho in a different light, could end in spice, if you’re willing, if not then it’s algds hehe 🙈

nah this is so cute lol ; also I do only write they/them / gn readers so I apologize 😭😭 but I'll try and not really specify gender at all to keep it really ambiguous ; i also dont write smut but i tried to make it a little like?? makeout? idk ; thank you for requesting, hope you enjoy! ; also I've seen at least one of ur other reqs to other creators and they're so 🙏🙏 trust me when I say writers love u

MINHO ; sweet memory

summary ; you find yourself looking at minho in a new light after almost drowning

warnings ; language, almost drowning, slightly heated kissing (?)

track ; wildflower and barley, hozier & allison russell

word count ; 1.7k

masterlist

You were the newest Greenie welcomed to the Glade. But, lucky for you, you remembered your name on your first night here. The amnesia was still getting you good here and there, but by the time the sun set on your second night, you were adapting well enough. A large group of you Gladers sit out on some logs in the Deadheads, the sun softly setting over the horizon of the maze walls as you sit around a little bonfire.

A small kind of lake structure sits beside the group, the soft sound of the streaming water filling your ears instead of all the other boys around you talking and chattering over drinks. You sit beside Minho, the Keeper of the Runners, sharing a drink with him. You took small sips here and there, just trying to fit in with the others under the blanket of trees and brush around you. Minho sits the glass jar back on the ground between his left leg and your right leg, talking to Fry a few feet away.

You're more focused on the water than anything else now as the boys talk loudly.

"What's the Greenie looking at?" Gally asks, an eyebrow raised as he talks in almost a mumble, looking between a few other Gladers.

Newt, sitting beside Fry, shrugs. Ben looks over at you, studying the dazed look in your eyes.

"Shank seems focused on the water," Ben speaks, giving a little shrug.

Gally's eyes light up as some invisible light bulb flicks on in his head. "Why don't we give them a proper Greenie welcome?"

"What're you suggesting, shuckface?" Jack sighs, sitting beside Gally.

A smirk tugs at the wannabe tough-guy's lips as he looks at you. You don't notice, as you're still zoned out, staring at the water.

"Let's throw them into the water for a minute"

Gally's plan had been set into motion behind mostly everyone's backs. Ben didn't say a word, considering he didn't actually think they'd be mean enough to throw the newest Greenie into that deep water. Newt and Fry hadn't heard as they'd been bickering about food, and the others, Winston, Minho, Eric, Adam, and Scott hadn't heard either.

Gally stands up, setting his special drink down. Jack, and Doug follow his actions, standing up and setting their definitely alcoholic beverages down. They sneak their way over to you, and stand over you, their shadows cast over you as well due to the fire.

You look up at them, shaking yourself out of your trance-like state.

"Can I help you?" You ask kindly, not wanting to start any drama.

Gally grabs you by the shoes, then Jack and Doug lift you up at your shoulders. They pull you toward the water, where you try and squirm out of their grip and fight back, but are unable to. The attention of the others is caught as they watch and laugh, thinking that your desperation to get away is to just not get wet and cold, unknowing that you couldn't swim.

Minho is the only one concerned, not knowing he was the only one to know that you couldn't swim. You'd brought it up when you first met him, explaining how you weren't much of a special soul, and that you couldn't swim or climb trees, or run that fast like some others could. It was a little dimwitted comment that clouded his vision in the moment.

"No, no, no, please! Please put me down!" For some reason, you didn't want to admit that you couldn't swim.

Doug hands over your other shoulder to Jack so he and Gally could rock and throw you into the water, standing off to the side. You continue to shout in protest as they begin rocking you side to side like they were reading a jump-in jump rope.

You look down at the water, fairly still, but clearly deep. You wouldn't be landing on rocks and busting your ass, you'd be drowning in five seconds if they didn't put you down.

Minho stands up, deciding to intervene as he sets his drink down. "Hey!"

"I can't swim! Put me down!-"

They toss you into the water, listening to your shriek of terror as the water splashes beneath your crashing weight. You reach your arms up as you'd fallen in on your rear, and kick your feet rapidly under you, unable to feel the bottom on your feet.

Being soaking wet was the least of your worries as you felt the water rush into your mouth, struggling to keep your head above the surface. You choke up the dirty, muddy water, trying to use any strength you had left in you to call for help and keep yourself floating.

Minho, now wide-eyed, quickly jumps in after you, realizing you truly couldn't swim. The water splashes under his weight like it did yours, and by the time he resurfaces, you'd fallen under the surface, water quickly filling up your lungs.

Newt quickly rushes forward, Frypan and Ben following him. Newt shoves Gally.

"What're you thinkin' klunkhead?! They said they couldn't swim, yet you throw them in that deep water!" He shouts, looking for an answer or at least some remorse.

Minho pulls you out of the water, the help of Fry and Ben leading you back up to land. You cough up a fair amount of water, completely dripping wet. Your clothes cling to your cold skin, weighing ten times their normal weight.

"What is wrong with you? Are you that shuckin' stupid?!"

Fry pulls Newt away from Gally before he potentially ends up in the slammer. Doug and Jack share unsympathetic looks, same as Gally. He uses the excuse that he didn't know until you shouted it at the last second, and it was just an innocent prank.

The second in command steps away from the three boys, rushing to your aid. Your legs hang over the little ledge, feet still emerged in the water. Minho is slapping your back, trying to help you cough all the water in your lungs and throat out.

Minho rubs your back softly as you finish coughing, your face pale, your eyes clearly showing the adrenaline rush and panic.

"You need the Med-Jacks, Greenie?" The blonde asks, one knee in the dirt while the other leg supports him.

You shake your head no, leaning forward as you pound at your chest and cough on command, wanting to make sure your airway was clear of any water or debris. Minho quickly stands up, stomping toward Gally to repeat the same things as Newt, the two essentially swapping roles.

"Are you stupid? Can't you leave anyone alone?!"

"It was a joke!"

"A joke that could've killed someone, Gally!"

You share a look with Newt.

"Thanks for like, helping me, by the way" You softly speak to Minho.

The group is now departing the Deadheads, seeing as the moon indicates that it's about one in the morning by now. The fire is slowly dying out, crackling as dead leaves crush under your feet while you walk away. You and the runner lag behind a bit, wanting to stay far away from Gally and his friends. Newt leads their way, making sure you're all accounted for. Gally, Doug, and Jack would only have to hope that the blonde wouldn't tell on them to Alby in the morning.

Minho nods in response to your thanks. "Yeah, of course. I mean, I know you can't swim, and it just." He holds his hands up to his head, mimicking an explosion as he opens them. "Sorry about them, really. I think they were just trying to innocently mess with you cause they didn't know, but they should've at least asked. They know that water is deep"

You nod, your hands stuffed in your pockets. You're still damp, but not as cold and not as wet, thanks to the fire. Luckily for all of you, Zart and Jeff didn't have to wake up at that hour to tend to you. They would've killed you all for that.

"Thanks for being nice to me and stuff, I appreciate it," you comment, feeling like you aren't remorseful or thankful enough as he'd probably saved your life.

"It's cool, Y/n." He lightly smiles, making sure you're able to see it.

The fact he called you by your actual name and not Greenie made butterflies rise in your stomach. You didn't even know why, just the thought of fitting in, with him, was infatuating. Your name on his tongue sounded like the most beautiful song you'd ever heard, like your brain was going to melt if you heard it again.

You both stop in your tracks, putting space between you two and the rest of the group, now at the edge of the Deadheads. You share soft smiles, exploring each other's eyes for some sort of look, which you mutually shared.

You lean against the tree behind you, trying to read his expression as he does the same. He's inches away, like he's taunting you.

"I think you owe me, actually," He smiles. Christ, he's really gonna dangle that over your head.

"How do you want me to repay you?" You ask with a soft chuckle. "Not much I can do"

He shrugs, leaning in a little closer. When he speaks, it's just above a whisper, sending a shiver up your spine. "I know that you know how use those lips of yours"

You quickly place your hands on his cheeks, closing the distance between your lips. His hands dig into your waist, pinning you against the tree. Your left hand transfers from his cheek and into his hair, tangling your fingers in it. You feel him melt into your lips, unable to not pull you any closer.

You can feel the bruises he's creating against your lips, the way he's draining your lungs of air for the second time tonight.

He pulls away, needing to control himself. "Thanks, Y/n." He smiles before jogging away, wanting to catch up before Newt discovered their lack of presence.

You watch as he jogs away, then walk behind him as he's a few yards away, a goofy smile on your face.

"Thanks, Minho," you whisper under your breath.

[jeongheart]

03:45 am

summary: late night snack run with chan.

w.c: 1.2k

tags: established relationship, fluff.

a.n: chan in the newest code ruined my brain, he's just so boyfriend coded.

as always, english is not my first language so sorry in advance for any mistakes. leave your thoughts if you like, it means a lot.

You've tossed and turned more times than you can count in the last half hour, the clock impassively marking 03:45 am with its big red numbers. You sigh tired and put the device back on the nightstand to turn around once more; the bed was warm on your side because you been lying in the same spot for hours. You touched Chan's side, it was frozen and with the sheets in place.

With a slight groan due to the sudden movement of your muscles you got out of bed, you didn't bother to wrap yourself up and you dragged your feet across the room towards the living room, you knew exactly where your partner was at this time and, after drinking water, you went in search of him.

The study door was locked, so as not to disturb and not be disturbed. The house was completely silent, except for the faint sound of keys being pressed and papers falling to the floor from time to time.

You gently knocked the door to announce your presence, and a few seconds later, you made yourself present in the room. Chan was hunched in front of the computer, his nose was so close to the monitor that for a second you feared that the fluorescent colors would end up engulfing him, taking him to a world of musical tracks to be arranged.

Around him was all kinds of garbage, except for food wrappers, you could imagine that it had been a long time since he eaten anything and you shook your head as you approached his figure. He always had that bad habit, nothing else existed when he worked; no matter how many times you told him it seemed like your words went in one ear and out the other.

When you were almost two centimeters away, you realized that he had his headphones at full volume, an unreleased song was playing loudly and surrounding everything around him, that's why he hadn't heard the door before and hadn't greeted you when you walked in. Between the darkness of the room, the loud music and his concentration he almost seemed to be absent.

Not wanting to scare him, you put your hand on his shoulder, he didn't flinch from your touch until you put a little more force in your grip. Finally returning to the real world, he took off his headphones to leave them on the table in front of him and looked you straight in the eye.

His eyes were a little red after so many hours of watching screens, and his expression danced between confusion and exhaustion.

"What are you doing?" He asks you in a whisper.

Taking your hand off his shoulder, you moved it up to his face, caressing his cheek gently. Chan unconsciously relaxed and placed all the weight of his body on your hand, still looking at you.

"I couldn't sleep" You answer simply.

Chan laughed softly, a clear sign of his exhaustion, and with his right hand he took yours (which you weren't using to caress his face) and guided you to his lap, you let out a little cry of surprise at the sudden change of position but you let him accommodate you to his liking.

When you were comfortably seated, Chan hugged your waist with both arms and rested his head on the space between your neck and your shoulder, where upon feeling the smell of your shampoo and your perfume he sighed happily and finally closed his eyes. You kept busy those seconds playing with his hands that were still tightly gripping the lower part of your body.

You could feel his breath against your neck, he was freezing and you still had the heat of the sheets on you.

"Let's go out for a little bit" You told him when you felt his breathing become heavier. Chan let out something similar to a growl, you didn't know if he heard you or had already fallen asleep.

"It's late" You almost couldn't understand what he said, his lips were so close to your skin that the sound was almost lost.

You moved your head a little to make him pay attention to you, your heart sank a little when you saw how a small hint of sadness crossed Chan's expression for taking him out of his comfortable position against you. "I'm hungry and you need to stretch your legs, besides, how long has it been since you've eaten something?"

Chan looked away at the question, and there you got your answer. "I have to finish, love" He made a gesture to lift you from his lap and return the chair to its place in front of the computer to resume his work.

"Ten minutes, a bit of fresh air will do you good" You grabbed his face with both hands so he couldn't look away or question you, you were like this for few seconds; just staring into each other's eyes. You could feel how Chan's face was starting to heat up from the closeness and, letting out a nervous giggle, he nodded his head.

You laughed and kissed him on the tip of the nose "Don't forget to bundle up".

The walk to the convenience store was relatively short, Chan was telling you details about the work he been doing so far and how proud he was of how everything was turning out. You listened attentively, excited by his happiness and without letting go of his hand in the ten blocks it took to get to the store.

The automatic door greeted you with its characteristic sound, as did the worker behind the counter who offered you a warm smile despite the late hour and the cold January air that swept in with you. "What do you want to eat?" Chan began to drag you through the corridors of the place in search of whatever and anything to fill his stomach.

You followed him closely as he went through each shelf with the initiative of a small child, showing you package after package full of colors no matter what it was (salty, sweet, bittersweet), unable to decide what to finally buy. You laughed when you saw that he placed each package that caught his attention in the cart you were pushing, his work and the deadlines already forgotten by the promise of eating delicious things.

After a few more minutes of indecision, you finally made it to the checkout to pay for the items. The cashier laughed seeing the various items you carried (from spicy noodles to coconut ice cream to cheese sticks). Chan ended up paying for the purchases even though you insisted that you could separate the bill, he simply ignored your speech and took the three bags full of food while you followed him out of the store, reproaching him for his actions.

"I'm not listening, I'm made of wood, I have fish ears~" Your partner crooned as he began the walk back to the apartment, you rolled your eyes and decided that it was a hopeless case so you had to accept your defeat.

"Next time I'll pay" You told him as you took one of the bags he was carrying to take his hand instead, you didn't know what time it was but you didn't care at that moment. Chan was laughing out loud (so much that you were afraid that he would wake up the people who were sleeping in the houses on the side of the road) and he looked more relaxed; a fond smile appeared on your face and you squeezed your partner's hand tightly.

"Thank you for getting me out of the house, and from my own head, love. You were right, I needed it" Chan stopped walking to press you against his body and envelop you in a warm hug, you breathed in his aroma and let his presence envelop you completely.

[runnning-outof-time]

Back To Her | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by anonymous

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: It’s been years since Tommy and (Y/N) have last seen each other…will it be a bad thing now that he’s finally found his way back to her?

Warnings: language, drinking, mentions of minor character death

Word Count: 4355

A/N: oh my does it feel good to be writing again. I don’t quite know what this one is, but the ending of it is one of my absolute favorites. I hope you don’t mind how long it is - it kind of grew a mind of its own. I hope you’ll stick with it though. Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

Tommy Shelby tugged on his tie, straightening it out as he waited with a lump in his throat. What was taking so long? The maid must've told him to wait in this room several minutes ago. Each second was dragging on and it seemed as though his heart rate was increasing because of it.

This mansion had felt so foreign, yet so familiar at the same time. Even from only being in the foyer and the drawing room, he could see the subtle intricacies that the woman he was meeting used to talk and dream about having one day. Seeing them brought to fruition here - in the grandest scale possible - filled him with a sense of elation, a feeling that had been tucked deeply away and probably hadn't seen the light of day since he last heard her speak. One that he still felt that day, even though the words she spoke struck him deeper than any bullet had.

They hadn't left off on the best of terms, but she wished him the best. Now he was wondering if the time that was put between them turned things sour, and if she would even want him to be here. He'd stand and bear it though. He needed to see her again, even if it meant he'd be admonished for it.

The thought made him tug on his tie again, wanting it to be perfect for her. He wanted everything to be perfect for her. Maybe if she approached him and he asked that question - if everything had turned out to be perfect for her, and she gave her response and nothing else, he’d consider this a victory.

Footsteps then echoed throughout one of the grandiose hallways. Soon enough, a voice was heard: "who are you?"

——

-1919-

"Arthur Shelby! I'm going to need you to tell me what you said last night at the Garrison, but this time don't leave the parts that Tommy wouldn't want me to hear out," (Y/N) announced as she marched into the Shelby family's Watery Lane home.

She hoped that the eldest Shelby sibling was present and heard her exclamation - after all, he wasn't in his other, usual places. Her hopes were fulfilled when she found him draped across the couch in the sitting room; looking quite like death personified.

"Oi, what're you screamin' for, (Y/N)?" Arthur questioned, just barely lifting his head up from the couch's arm.

"I'm unhappy, Arthur," she started with a huff, dropping her hands to her hips before she continued, "you had me up half the night just thinking, and now Tommy's been acting weird around me...I need to get to the bottom of this."

"The bottom of what?" he still sounded confused.

"The plan of Tommy's you were telling me about," she wasted no time in telling him. "You were saying something...something about an opportunity being dropped into his lap; one that doesn't come around often," she continued on, hoping to jog his memory, "what was the opportunity, Arthur?"

Arthur furrowed his brows together as he racked his brain. What was he telling her last night? He couldn't quite remember. She was looking at him expectantly though, and he became more worried by the minute that she'd pounce if he made her wait for too long.

"What has Tommy been planning?" she asked another question after a few moments of silence had passed.

"He's..." he trailed off, swallowing as he prepared himself for what would follow, and also hoping that the pause would buy him more time, "(Y/N), he's found something, and it's something that's going to help us all out."

"What is it, Arthur?" she asked for more detail, becoming slightly upset that it wasn't shared with her outright.

"They're guns," he finally told the secret, "government guns, and at first I didn't understand why he was keeping them, but Tommy's got a plan, he's..."

"Oh he's got a plan, huh?" (Y/N) cut into his statement, a snort following her question.

"He does! He said that he's going to keep them in our corner and use them to bargain. Polly's tried to tell him to get rid of them, but he won't listen. It's no use going against it; we might as well ride it out," he tried to get her to understand how he was looking at the situation.

(Y/N) wasn't buying into it. "This is how it's always been, Arthur...Tommy has a plan, Tommy stays steadfast on said plan, and then usually the bloody plan blows up in all of our faces!"

"This one feels different though, (Y/N)," Arthur stated, sounding a bit like he wasn't up for the argument he was currently in.

"I think I'll have to be the judge of that," she huffed, running a stressed hand over her forehead, "these plans'll be what kills him one day...I just know it," she muttered then, shaking her head as she looked down to the ground.

Arthur sat up straight after hearing her musings. His brows were furrowed as he trained his eyes on her. He could tell the amount of struggle that was going on inside her mind, and it was clear how Tommy's dealings were affecting her. "Here, come have a seat," he said, waving his arm in her direction as a physical cue.

(Y/N) glanced over at him, seeing the compassionate look on his face. She then exhaled a sigh and made her way over to the empty space on the couch, sitting down and resting her head against its back.

"Tommy and his plans can get to be a bit much," he started off. (Y/N) held back her snort. "He's wantin' us to trust him on this one though. We've gotta see it through."

(Y/N) was unsure of what to say. So many things were running through her mind at the moment; so many different scenarios and ways that this plan could bring about a terrible end. Instead of voicing any of those worries, she said nothing.

—

Tommy was sitting at one of the main tables in the betting shop, reading through some of the recent race outlooks when the door to the shop opened. He looked up and found (Y/N) walking further into the room. Before he could say anything, she stormed right past him, going over to the doors that connected to the Shelby's living quarters so that she could lock them. He sat and watched as she moved about the room, checking the various doors and making sure that they were all locked.

"Something happening?" he decided to ask her after she went back to the door she entered through and locked that one as well, "anything I should be worried about?"

"No," her answer was abrupt, "just wanted to make sure that I could speak to you without any interruptions," she moved over to the table he was sitting at.

Tommy watched her intently as she sat down across from him, clasping her hands together on top of the table as she looked at him expectantly. "Heard anything from Ada?" he decided to ask, wondering if this could be about his sister, who'd been effectively avoiding him for the last few weeks.

"No, this isn't about her," she answered, shaking her head slightly. She couldn't help but feel a tinge of sadness at the mention of her best friend, who'd practically disappeared. She remembered the last time they spoke; how Ada had told her that she needed to break away, to live and make decisions for herself. She was happy for her friend in doing that, but it didn't make the distance hurt less.

"What is it then?" he asked her, his eyebrows raised slightly as he waited for what she had to say.

"Pol said you're going to the derby..." she started off, trying to keep her voice level while her stomach did flips. She knew that this conversation wasn't going to be an easy one, but it was one she needed to have.

"I am...John and Arthur are also. There's an important matter of business involving Kimber that we need to see to," he answered.

Fucking Kimber. Hearing his name made her frustrated. It had been the talk of every family meeting since he found his way into Birmingham a few weeks ago. "She also told me that you're taking Grace. Tommy why are you bringing the fucking barmaid with you to the races?" she asked the question that had been stewing in her mind since she became aware of these plans.

"I can't tell you, (Y/N)," he responded, speaking in a low voice so as to keep his frustration down...he couldn't keep having all of this questioning happen.

"You do know what this looks like though, don't you? You, taking the barmaid to the races instead of the woman you're with; the woman you've been with. This will make people 'round here talk, Tommy, and I'm not sure if I'll be able to take that. Tell me why...tell me, why her?" (Y/N) doubled down, feeling more and more sick with each word she'd said.

She'd been with him for years now. They’d gotten together before the war and she stayed steadfast by his side through the conflict, promising him that she'd be there for him once he came out on the other side. There were hard times...really hard times, but she relented, staying by his side through them. Now she was starting to panic. Was he going to throw it all away over a barmaid?

"They'll talk, but their words will hold no truth, love," Tommy decided to reply to one part of her statement. Of course, it wasn't the one (Y/N) was looking for answers to.

"Why are you bringing her?" she asked yet again, shortening down her questioning to get right to the point.

"I can't say why. It's part of the plan, and you just need to trust me on it." (Y/N) opened her mouth to speak, but he continued before she could get a word out, "this is as hard on me as it is you."

(Y/N) pursed her lips upon hearing the second half of his statement. She didn't quite know what to think and was shocked that he could make a blanket statement like that one. It took a few moments for her to speak again. "That's rich of you to say, Tommy. For you to use such a statement to try and compare your feelings and thoughts to mine, especially when you know what it is that's going on. The plan is yours...you don't need the answers. And I've said it before that it'll be these bloody plans of yours that'll put you in the ground one day. I..." she paused, her voice wavering and all of the venom that had been building up vanished at once as she thought of what she'd say next. She took a deep breath before continuing. It's for the best. "I don't think I can be around it for one moment longer."

The words pained her to say, but she knew that they had to be said. And immediately she was having second thoughts on uttering them when she saw the drastic shift in Tommy's eyes. He may have closed himself off since coming home from France; considering himself dead and taking everything else that came to him as extra, but (Y/N) knew that she could still see his emotions through his eyes...and right now it looked as if he'd just taken a grave shot to the heart.

"What?" was all he was able to ask, his brows furrowing deeply together.

"I can't do this anymore...I can't jump from plan to plan and hope that you'll make it out alive from it. I love you too much to see it through. I think I need to go my own way now."

"It'll just be this one. One and done, (Y/N)," he tried to speak with as much reassurance as he could muster.

(Y/N) shook her head, a solemn look on her face, "it's never just 'one and done' with you, Tommy. You're a gambling man...you always have been. This plan'll work out, because they always seem to for you, and you'll become hungry for more. You'll keep going until it kills you, and I can't be around for that," she rehashed her words, showing him that she was staying steadfast on her stance. She then stood up and reached over the table to where his hand was sitting on it. Gingerly, she took hold of it, hating that doing so also brought their faces closer together. "I wish you all the best, Tommy, I really do. I love you," she spoke from the heart, her eyes not straying from his, even when her voice broke as she said the final three words.

She left without giving him the chance to respond. It was almost as if she knew that his words would pull her back in and assure her that everything would be ok...Tommy could convince someone just like that. But if she had stuck around, she would have seen that he had nothing left to say. He went to repeat the three word phrase that she ended off with, but it died on his lips as he watched what was possibly the best thing in his life walk away.

——

-1922-

Anxiousness was coursing through (Y/N)'s body. She fluffed out her dress for probably the hundredth time and listened to her friend tell her, yet again, that it was going to be ok. She didn't know why she was nervous. This was supposed to be the best day of her life, right? She'd found a man - a good man - and he was head over heels in love with her. Hell, she felt the same for him. Agreeing to marry him came without a doubt in her mind. So why was she a bundle of nerves now that she was only moments away from walking down the aisle?

The doors opened as she was trying to answer that question. There was no time left. In a short time, she'd become Mrs. Harold Drimouth.

——

-1925-

It felt good to have the family around again. It didn't take much for Tommy to notice the difference. Arrow House hadn't been this full of life since before he lost his wife.

Everyone had traveled in for the Christmas holiday. It was a big feat, but Tommy agreed to host everyone at his home. Charlie was thankful for the influx of children, and Tommy was happy he didn't have to be alone; especially after everything that occurred in Small Heath in the months prior. It was so far from a cause for celebration, but celebrate seemed to be all that they could do. They'd made it out of the vendetta alive...although that couldn't be said for every member of the Shelby family.

After dinner and the opening of the presents, several of the adults had decided to spend some time in one of the quieter sitting rooms while the children played with their toys in the adjacent room.

"If you really think of it...a celebration of this size wouldn't have even been thought of for us ten years ago," Ada mused, steering their previous conversation into a new direction.

"So much happens in that span of time. You only start to notice the differences when you look back on it," Polly added, looking at Ada and sending her a nod.

"We have Tommy and his ambitions to thank for it," Arthur called attention to the host of the party, raising his glass towards his younger brother, sparking a similar reaction from the rest in the room. Tommy only nodded his head in acknowledgement of his brother's statement, holding his whiskey up with the rest of the group before he went back to being focused on the fireplace.

"Do you remember that one Christmas we had back in Small Heath...before the war?" Ada then attempted to jog the group's memory, "(Y/N) and I stayed up half the night trying to get the gifts ready just to have John..." she paused, a smile forming on her face at the memory of her late brother while she took a moment to recollect her thoughts, "come in and start rooting through them because he couldn't remember if he'd gotten anything for anyone. I remember being so upset, but (Y/N) was ready to do them all up again."

"(Y/N)," Arthur began, letting a breath of a laugh out in the remembrance of her, "she was one of those kinds of women that you only meet once in your life."

"It's a shame no one kept in contact," Polly commented with a shake of her head.

"She left without a word. We couldn't have connected with her if we'd tried," Ada remarked, trying to stay stoic, but the guilt was apparent in her expression. Out of all of the Shelbys - excluding Tommy, obviously - (Y/N)'s leaving impacted her the most. They'd been through thick and thin together, so to come home and find that she was just gone struck a deep chord within the younger of the two women.

"You've not spoken to her at all, Tom, have ya?" Arthur decided to question the person who'd seen her last.

Tommy's gaze snapped away from the fire at the sound of his name, and although it took him a few beats to recall what the question was, he ultimately shook his head. "No," he started, shaking his head again, "no...she wished me the best and then she left. I've not heard from her since," he finished his statement by tipping back the rest of the contents in his glass. He then silently cursed it for there not being nearly as much alcohol as he needed at the moment.

All this talk of (Y/N) was leaving him reeling. From the first mention of her name, he'd been transported back to the times that he shared with her. She was his first...truly everything, and you really can't forget someone like that, no matter how much you try to, or who you attempt to move on with. Those memories were still as raw as the day they were made.

And so as the rest of his family continued on with sharing memories of the years gone by, Tommy found himself lost in a whirlwind of questions. He couldn't keep himself from wondering what had happened to (Y/N) since he last saw her, and how she fared out once she went her own way.

If he knew one thing for certain though, it was that he now needed to see her again. His main goal now was to find his way back to her.

——

"Who are you?" the voice came from the left side of the room. Tommy's eyes snapped over to see a young girl, probably around the age of four, standing in the opening of the hallway. Her head was tilted slightly, and he had to suppress a chuckle. She looked exactly like Charlie did when he was questioning something.

"I'm, um..." he began to speak, but more voices cut him off and made him look to his right.

"I was unaware of there being any scheduled visitors today." He knew that voice...he could recognize it anywhere.

"I know, Ms. Drimouth...this visitor was not on the schedule," the voice of the maid who'd escorted Tommy into the drawing room answered as their footsteps came closer.

Then she appeared. The breath instantly got caught in his throat when his eyes fell on her. She looked even more beautiful than the day she left. Seeing her made him feel like he was frozen. His mind was empty and now completely taken up by her.

"I'm so sorry, if I'd known I was expecting company, I would have worn something a bit more appropriate," (Y/N) stated, her eyes focused on her house dress as she fidgeted with it, trying to make herself look more acceptable.

"No, you look fine...beautiful, actually," Tommy said the first thing that came to his mind, and his words made (Y/N)'s eyes quickly snap up to see him. If he thought his breath was taken away before, now he was sure that his lungs had collapsed.

(Y/N) froze the second she saw who was waiting for her. She never thought she'd see Tommy Shelby again, let alone have him turn up at her estate unexpectedly. Everything else in the room seemed to disappear as her eyes stayed locked on him.

"Who is this, mummy?" the child's voice broke both adults out of their trances, making them realize that they weren't the only two in the room.

(Y/N) managed to break her eyes away from her first love to see her daughter, Margaret, looking between them in confusion. "Darling, this…this is an old friend. His name is Tommy, Tommy Shelby," she stuttered out an introduction. ‘Old friend’ was nowhere near what he was to her, but the label would do for now.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Shelby," Margaret spoke properly, a smile present on her face as she looked up at the man dressed in black as if he was also a friend of hers.

"You as well, Margaret," Tommy managed to pry his eyes from (Y/N) for a few moments so that he could address the child.

"Maggie, why don't you go and find Bear to play with?" (Y/N) suggested, knowing that she didn't want to have her daughter present while she reconnected with Tommy.

"Yes, mummy," Margaret nodded before she exited the room the way she'd come in.

Neither Tommy nor (Y/N) knew what to say next. It felt like hours had passed with them being lost in each other's gaze before (Y/N) finally broke the silence, "you...you found me?" her voice inflected to make her words sound like a question, but she wasn't so sure if she intended it to be.

"I did. I...I went looking for you, exhausted every connection I had. I had to find you, (Y/N). I had to see you again," he answered her, not caring at the moment how this admission sounded.

"May I ask why?" she questioned, hating that the words sounded a little more snide that she wanted them to, "why now...after all these years have passed?"

"I wanted to apologize to you; for all that I put you through back then, and for the things that I left out. You deserved to know," he answered, his words holding an utmost sincerity.

"I wished you the best, and you went and made quite the name for yourself, Tommy Shelby," she commented, a smile forming on her face. She couldn't help but be proud of him. "Your name was spoken quite a few times amidst my late husband's circle."

"Late husband?" he asked, putting emphasis on the first word.

"He passed in 1924. Complications of an illness. Margaret was only two," she informed him, a tinge of sadness present in her voice. Tommy nodded at the information, a knowing look forming on his features. "Do you have anyone?" she decided to ask, hating that her heart rate increased while waiting for his answer.

"I did, but she died. I have a son, Charlie...he's four now," he offered some of his own life story.

"My daughter will be four come the end of the year," (Y/N) couldn't help but add, a small smile now present as she spoke of her pride and joy. Tommy sent a similar smile in response. It was so good to see her smile again.

Silence fell between them then, but it was one that felt comfortable. Tommy held his gaze on her for a few moments before ultimately being the one who broke it: "I, uh...I won't waste anymore of your time. I just wanted to say that I was sorry," he said to her, hating that it felt like his heart was breaking because she was leaving his life all over again.

Nothing more was said as he moved past her, heading to the archway of the foyer. He was just about to step through it when her voice stopped him: "Tommy wait!" it came out a little bit louder than she wanted it to, but it did its job in getting him to turn back around.

"Yeah?" his question came out like a breath, his heart rate increasing again.

"Maybe...maybe we should have dinner some time. There's a lot of catching up that's needed to be done between us," she offered a suggestion, biting on her lip to conceal her smile.

"I'd like to see you again, (Y/N)," he agreed with her in an instant, a ghost of a smile forming on his face.

"Very well," she tried to keep calm, but inside she was as giddy as a school girl, "how does tomorrow sound?"

"Perfect," he nodded.

——

-1927-

Anxiousness was the furthest thing from (Y/N)'s mind as she stood behind the closed doors of the church. Ada told her multiple times that everything was going to plan and that she'd be getting her turn next. (Y/N) didn't care to hear about the perfection...she'd go forward with doing this if it were happening in a field amidst a rainstorm.

She didn't know how she managed to have this be her life, how she had gotten lucky enough to be given this second chance. The doors opened one last time to let Margaret and Charlie walk down the aisle with the flowers and rings. Is this what the best day of your life is supposed to feel like?

The doors opened as she was trying to answer that question. There was no time left. In a short time, she'd become Mrs. Thomas Shelby.

She couldn't wait.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @iambored24601 @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 30: scary movies

Masterlist flufftober 🎀

The translations of the French sentences are at the end and I give special thanks to @cumulo-stratus for helping me check that they were fine. I hope you like it!

“We're here,” Spencer announced, although that was obvious, when he parked the convertible car that Rossi had very kindly offered to lend to you.

Now that Halloween was so close, the doctor had invited the entire team to the drive-in theater for the broadcast in its original language of Eyes Without a Face, a 1960 French film, but everyone had found an excuse not to attend. Most of them refused due to their ignorance of the language and Emily, who was the only one who spoke it as fluently as Spencer, already had plans that night.

“I can go with you” you had said kindly. In other circumstances you might not have accepted, but now it made you feel guilty leaving your friend alone. In addition, the plans with him were always calm and, to a certain extent, educational "But I warn you that all I know how to say in French is Bonjour”

Your friend was happy with your response and he asked you not to worry, telling you that all you had to do was take it to him so he could translate the words for you. So Rossi told you that he would collaborate on one of his cars and Spencer almost died when he saw it, not because he was a big fan but because he was worried about how much money he would have to pay if he made the slightest scratch on it.

“There are more people than I imagined,” you murmured, nodding toward the rest of the parking lot. The majority were couples, as expected, and a few older adults.

“It was a very popular story during that time, despite the censorship it involved. We once had a similar case in… Well, I'll remind you when we finish watching it. I don't want to ruin anything for you," he murmured, smiling.

That night he had chosen an outfit that was quite common to see him in at the office: brown cardigan, an argyle vest, formal shirt, and tie. Everything was fine with that, what was really driving you crazy lately was the hair. Spencer styled his hair in a certain way that… you couldn't explain it, he just made you think of Prince Charming in fairy tales.

And the fact that you started to see it that way didn't help a damsel like you at all.

“It's okay if you can't translate the entire film. Just telling me a couple of lines is enough, I will be guided by what I see”

“No, that's not a problem. I can do it"

Of course you knew he could do it, it was Doctor fucking Reid. You were just worried that you would end up more focused on his whispering lips than on the screen in front of you.

Luckily the movie started and you managed to maintain the necessary composure. Luckily your brain was able to pay attention to what you saw, what you heard, and what Spencer was murmuring to you. At first you may have only agreed to accompany him out of kindness, but as the story progressed you realized that it was actually good. Little by little you were remembering a case that, as he had said, you had investigated, but that should probably be a talk for after finishing the movie.

You had to admit that something was captivating about the French language, because even if you didn't understand a thing they said, it was nice to hear it.

Calme-toi, ma chérie.

Faites-lui confiance.

One of the characters murmured and a second later you heard Spencer with the respective translation.

“Calm down, my dear. Trust in him”

"Repeat that"

“Calm down, my dear. Trust in him?”

“No,” you murmured, seeing him frown as if he didn’t understand your request. “Repeat what he said, in French.”

The idea had come from God knows where and you had only mentioned it in the heat of the moment, otherwise you would never have asked him. It was just that the words had sounded so exquisite that you wondered if the soft voice of the man next to you would replicate them in the same way.

Spencer wanted to ask you why you wanted that, but he was afraid of ruining his only chance to impress you with his skills, so he just turned enough so you could see him better and mentally visualize the words he needed.

When he leaned a little towards you to have more privacy you felt his breath hit your neck and adding to the soft aroma of his cologne that reached your nose you felt slightly dizzy.

If a single action had been enough to make your entire body shake, it probably would have been hearing Spencer Reid whispering French in your ear.

“Calme-toi, ma chérie. Faites-lui confiance”

“Once again,” you laughed, thankful that the low lighting didn’t allow you to see a blush on your cheeks.

"Why?" he said amused, thinking that perhaps it was prudent to inquire about your request.

“I don't know, when you talk it you sound so…” so sexy “nice. Like feeling velvet between your fingers” 

Spencer was definitely flattered by you, you could tell by the way he chuckled and his body flinched slightly.

“I don't sound that good because I haven't practiced French for a long time, but my mom wants to go to Paris one day so if we go together, I'll be able to do it. I learned it a few years ago, it is a somewhat difficult language”

“Can you say anything else?” you asked excitedly, as you scooted a little further against him to the point where your knee brushed his and your faces were just a short distance away “I mean, of course you can, but could you do it?”

“Huh, what do you want me to tell you?”

“Whatever,” you smiled sweetly. You weren't even paying attention to the movie anymore, which was playing in the background, but you only had eyes for him and his pretty face.

Spencer's face. Your co-worker. 

Despite the inappropriate course that your thoughts had taken, you kept watching him while he thought for a few seconds what he was going to say to satisfy your curiosity. A mischievous smile crossed his face as he tilted his head slightly and you swore it was almost as if he wanted to maneuver his lips to yours.

“Je pense que tu es vraiment belle”

The phrase was just a caress, a feather sliding across your ears that managed to stop your breathing and accelerate your heart rate. Maybe French was called the language of love for a reason.

"What does it mean?" you asked in barely a whisper.

But Spencer didn't respond, he just stared at you and for a second you thought his attention had been diverted to your parted lips.

“Keep watching the movie or you'll miss the best part.”

“Spencer, what does it mean?”

“There he is saying that she can be admitted tomorrow morning.”

“Spencer,” you said sternly. Even with the tone of your voice, he did not look to your side, pretending to be extremely interested in the movie playing, “What did you tell me?” 

“You only wanted to hear me speak in French, you never asked for a translation”

“Reid!” You complained, extending your hand to his arm to get his attention and force him to look at you. “I swear if you offended me…”

“Je ne t'offenserais jamais”

“Stop it,” you threatened him, pointing a finger at him and frowning.

“Si je pouvais, j'effacerais ce visage en colère avec un baiser”

You responded to that with an exasperated sigh and suddenly a scream that you didn't expect on the screen startled you greatly, causing you to instinctively jump into his arms.

It was an absolute, cheap cliché, but that didn't make it any less romantic.

"You see? Pay attention” was all he said, with a tone that showed how much fun he seemed to be having.

You readjusted yourself in your seat without saying anything and obeyed his words, looking at the strange black-and-white scene. Out of the corner of your eye you watched Spencer lick his lips before he started shouting explanations about the story again which you listened to carefully, trying not to think too much about what the two sentences he had told you meant but which would keep you curious for the rest of the night.

Suddenly you felt him stir next to you and raise both arms, as if he wanted to stretch his back, while a yawn left his lips. What really caught your attention was feeling that one of his limbs, the one that was close to you, when getting off was placed on the edge of the seat behind your back and not on his lap as it should be.

“Tell me you didn’t do that.”

"Do what?" he asked, but from the stutter in his voice you knew he knew well what you meant.

“That's the most common tactic on earth,” you muttered between laughs. Spencer lowered his head as if he were embarrassed and ready to take his arm away from you, but you raised your hand until you took his and slid a little so that you were leaning against his body. “But I'll let it go just because you're cute.”

Cute. The word resonated in Spencer's mind and warmed his cheeks, while he felt how you settled your head better on his chest and began to caress the back of his hand with your thumb. You were so soft and warm he felt like he was going to die. 

“Where is my star translator?” he heard you say and that was enough to snap him out of his trance.

You stayed in that position for the rest of the show while he whispered in your ear and you listened to the soft beat of his heart, feeling that, at least for one night, the world belonged only to the two of you.

Translation

"I think you are really beautiful" (Je pense que tu es vraiment belle)

"I would never offend you" (Je ne t'offenserais jamais)

“If I could, I would erase this angry face with a kiss” (Si je pouvais, j'effacerais ce visage en colère avec un baiser)

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove @vivian-555 @r-3dlips @rhiannonhippiegirl @taygrls @simp4f1 @sdddoobydoobydoo @taintedstranger @missabsey

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 1, Unarmed - Pt. 3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, poorly translated Russian, mentions of CSA/trafficking, mentions of death, emotional repression of childhood trauma, Bucky nightmares, bonding over trauma, some fluff and comfort.

Word Count: 2.6k

Previously On...: You literally ran into Bucky in the hallway outside your rooms and bond over a shared love of Middle Earth like the fucking nerds you are. This could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

A/N: I know this part introduces some heavy backstory for our Dear Reader. Please know writing this for her has been a therapeutic exercise for me in dealing with trauma from my own childhood, which, coincidentally, has been shoved back into the forefront of my life recently, forcing me to re-evaluate things I thought I had processed. Please know that I'm not approaching this subject flippantly, and her reactions/attitudes have been based on my own healing (or rather, suppressing) journey.

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @blackhawkfanatic @marcswife21

Your friendship with Bucky only continued to grow from there. There was something about him, his quiet demeanor, his gentle sense of humor, that made you feel an immediate connection with him, as if you'd known him for ages instead of just a few weeks. You weren't one to open up to others easily; it had taken you over a year to trust that Tony didn't have any ulterior motives for befriending you, but with Bucky, it was effortless, as if you couldn't have stopped it even if you wanted to.

About three weeks into his residency at the Tower, you were exposed to your first instance of one of Bucky's nightmares. He'd told you he frequently had them, but you'd yet to experience one firsthand. You hadn't been able to sleep-- your own losing battle with insomnia--, so you were coming back up from getting a late night snack in the communal kitchen when you heard the muffled shouting coming from behind his door. At first, you were going to ignore it, sure that it was his television, but you heard him utter a single, desperate "Pozhaluysta," the sound of it so heartbreaking that your breath caught in your lungs. Please.

Crossing over to Bucky's door, you knocked softly. "Bucky? It's Pocket. Are you okay? I heard shouting." You waited for an answer... but nothing. Taking a step closer, you put an ear to the door, holding your breath. You could make out the sound of frantic thrashing, cries of "Net!" and then a whimper. He sounded like he was in trouble, like he was in pain.

"FRIDAY," you said to the AI that ran the tower, "open the door."

"I'm sorry, Ms. (Y/L/N), but Sergeant Barnes has locked his door for the evening."

"For fucks' sake, FRIDAY," you muttered. "Enact override protocol 346.78C." There was no point in being the Avenger's resident computer genius if you couldn't hack their home automation system, was there? You heard the click of Bucky's door unlocking. Turning the handle and hoping that asking him for forgiveness was easier than asking for permission, you stepped inside.

It took a moment for your eyes to adjust, but once you were able to make out shapes in the gloom of the darkened suite, you saw that the layout was relatively similar to your own. You made your way over to the bed, expecting to see Bucky writhing on it in the midst of his nightmare, but it was empty, stripped of all bedding, just a bare mattress.

Then you heard him, thrashing from the space between the bed and the wall. You shuffled over to the other side and found the super soldier lying on the floor, tangled in his sheets. A thin sheen of sweat covered his naked torso, a pair of sweat pants riding low on his hips. His face was contorted in agony as his head twisted from side to side.

"Net! Net!" he cried out in Russian, fighting off invisible assailants, "Pozhaluysta, ne nado! Eto bol'no!" No! No! Please, no! It hurts!

It physically pained your heart to see him struggling like this, so you did the first thing that came to mind-- you threw yourself across him, wrapping your arms around his body and holding him in place, whispering back to him in Russian: "Ty v poryadke, ty v poryadke. Ty v bezopasnosti. Nikto ne mozhet prichinit' tebe vred." You're okay, you're okay. You're safe. No one can hurt you. "I've got you, Bucky. You're safe."

It was a long moment before you realized that his thrashing had stopped, his heartbeat had slowed, and he had wrapped his arm around you, holding you to him as if you were a lifeline.

You pulled back, allowing him to sit up.

"Pocket?" he asked, voice laced with confusion at seeing you, as though he wasn't sure if he was actually awake or not. "What are you doing here? And... were you speaking Russian, or was I dreaming?"

Suddenly shy, you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, avoiding looking at him. Jesus. He literally just woken up to you throwing yourself on top of him. "I-I'm sorry," you stammered. "I was walking by, and it sounded like you were having a nightmare. I was worried, so I came in to check on you. I'll let you go back to sleep. Sorry." You got up to go, but his hand reached out and encircled your wrist, gently holding you in place.

"No," he murmured, pulling you back down to the floor next to him. "You were right, I was having a nightmare. I... I told you I get them, sometimes. Memories, really. Of things Hydra... did to me. Things they... things they made me do. Thank you," he looked up at you, catching your eyes through the darkness and holding your gaze. "Thank you for waking me up, for taking me out of it."

You gulped, the night becoming far more intimate than you could have anticipated when you went downstairs to grab a pint of ice cream earlier. You forced a smile. "Of course. What are friends for?"

"Are we?" he asked, his voice suddenly low, causing a pool of warmth to collect in the bottom of your stomach. "Friends?"

"Of course, Buck." You gave him a concerned look. "Why wouldn't we be?"

"Because I'm a monster, Pocket." Bucky lowered his head in his shame. "I'm a murderer and a monster."

"Oh, Bucky, no." You took his chin into your hands and brushed a strand of hair away from his face. "Sweetie, no, you're not. You were a victim. You didn't consent to a single thing Hydra made you do. I know that it's going to take you a long time to believe that, but it's the truth. I promise you it is." He closed his eyes and nodded.

"Pocket, do you think..." he looked away from you, almost shyly, "do you think you could stay? After a nightmare, I... Well, I don't really like being alone."

"And Rogers isn’t one for midnight cuddling, huh?" you teased, a playful smile on your lips. You couldn't see it, but you could practically feel the sardonic look he was giving you. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Yes, I'll stay. But Bucky, I have one rule--"

"I'll keep my hand to myself and be a perfect gentleman, I promise," he said solemnly.

"Pfft," you scoffed. "I don't give a shit about that. Be as handsy as you want. No, my one rule is: I am not sleeping on the fucking floor." Bucky rewarded you with another one of his genuine laughs. You couldn't articulate how happy it made you feel knowing that you were the cause of that laughter.

"You got it," he said, as he stood up and began to move his sheets and pillows back to the bed. "Nothing but the best for you, doll."

Your insides glowed at this new nickname, and you were positive he was going to notice how his words made you light up in the dark. You busied yourself with helping him make up the bed before crawling under the covers. You tried not to be too obvious as you inhaled the scent of Bucky on the pillowcase. He smelled like cedar and leather and something unidentifiable that was just so quintessentially Bucky that it had become your favorite scent. You wanted to bottle it up and use it like a fabric spray so you'd always be surrounded by it. 

The bed dipped as Bucky got in, pulling the covers up over himself. "Thank you for this, Pocket," he whispered.

You turned onto your side to face him. "Of course. Any time, Bucky; I sincerely mean that. I know what it's like; I have them, too."

"You do?" You felt him reach for you in the dark, taking your hand and interlacing his fingers with yours. "You can tell me about them. If you want to."

You nodded, before realizing he probably couldn't see you, so you hummed an affirmative. There was something about the cover of night that made you feel brave, safe in opening up to Bucky; you found yourself wanting to tell him what kept you awake at night. You took a deep breath.

"I... didn't have the best childhood," you began, trying to keep your voice steady. "My father took off before I was old enough to even remember what he looked like, and my mother was always more interested in getting high than she was with being a parent. I was in and out of foster care for a while when I was a little girl." Buck squeezed your hand in sympathy and you continued: "Then she got this boyfriend, Darren." God, even now, the taste of his name on your tongue was like bitter bile. "For a little while, things were… better. Mom got her shit together enough that Social Services sent me back to live with her. I could almost believe that things were going to be okay. I mean, we even stayed in the same place for more than six months. I went to school regularly. It almost made me feel like a normal kid."

"What happened?" You barely heard Bucky's whispered question. You let out a harsh, disillusioned laugh.

"Puberty," you told him. "I turned eleven, got boobs and suddenly Darren's paying a lot more attention to me." You felt Bucky tense in the bed beside you. "Of course, that's entirely my fault, right?" you continued. "At least according to my mother. They started fighting more often, and she went back to the booze and meth. Stopped giving a shit about everything. Going to work, paying bills, making sure I went to school, whether or not I even ate. Only thing that mattered was where the next fix was going to come from." You took a breath. This next part was the hardest, and Tony was the only one you'd ever told the entire truth of the matter to.

"And with Mom incapacitated, boyfriend feels he's got free reign," Bucky supplied for you.

"Yeah," you swallowed, grateful you hadn't needed to actually say it, yourself.

"Pocket," Bucky began, "that's aw--"

"There's more," you admitted before he could continue. "Darren liked to bet on horses but, like absolutely everything else he ever did, he was complete shit at it. Ended up owing some horrible guys a lot of money. There was no way in hell he'd have been able to come up with it, so he... proposed a trade."

"God," Bucky breathed. "Oh, Pocket. I am so, so sorry."

"Thanks," you said, wishing that was the end of it, but knowing that you still weren't finished. "Darren realized he had a valuable commodity that a, uh, certain kind of man would pay good money for, and he wasn't just going to let such a lucrative income stream go to waste. He was an idiot, but he wasn't that dumb."

Next to you, Bucky sucked in a breath. You could practically feel him vibrating with anger for your younger self. "How long?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"Seven years, more or less. When I turned 18, I grabbed every important document I could get my hands on, hightailed it to Boston and never looked back. But the memories, the nightmares? They still haunt me. Even after all this time, they’ve never fully gone away. So, you know, I get it."

There was silence for a moment, but then Bucky cleared his throat and asked: "Where is he now?"

"He's got himself a nice little plot of land in Pensacola," you said, a smile ghosting your face.

"So, he got off Scott-free." Bucky's voice was a low growl.

"Oh, I didn't say that, you said slyly. "That nice little plot is a pauper's grave at Pensacola Federal Prison Camp. Bastard got himself shanked in the slammer about ten years ago. Happiest day of my fucking life.

Bucky's laugh was low and dry. "What about your mom? Please tell me she got what she deserved, too."

You shifted slightly, propping your head up onto your hand. "Honestly, I have no idea what happened to her. The way she drank, she's probably long dead by now, and I could honestly not care less. That's why I have everyone call me Pocket." Bucky moved to mirror your position, using a pillow to prop himself up instead of an arm, so you were laying eye to eye, only a few inches separating your faces.

"Okay, explain to me how that makes sense," he said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his warm breath fanning pleasantly across your skin.

His touch was gentle and you found yourself subtly leaning into it. "My legal name is (Y/N)," you told him. "It was my mother's name, too. I know that 'Pocket's a ridiculous nickname, but when people call me that, it's like I'm someone else, someone new. I'm not that scared little girl that had all those horrible things happen to her. I'm someone I made myself into." Your voice had dropped to barely a whisper as you admitted it to him.

He studied you for a moment before speaking, voice low. "Thank you for trusting me with this, Pocket." 

You let out a small laugh. "I think we might need to make each other some matching friendship bracelets or something after all of this sharing," you told him. Bucky laughed with you, and the tension that had been hovering in the air lessened. You hadn't meant to get so deep into your personal history, or to get emotional, but sharing your story with Bucky brought you a sense of relief; at the very least, you'd helped take Bucky's mind off of his own nightmares, even if it had meant delving back into your own.

You both fell silent for a moment, and then Bucky spoke again, his voice soft and hesitant. "Pocket, can I ask you something? A favor?"

You looked at him, noticing how his eyes glinted in the dark. "Yeah, of course, Bucky. What's up?"

He swallowed audibly, his grip returning to your hand. "I don't want to overstep or make you uncomfortable, so maybe this is too much to ask, but… do you think…  maybe we could… I don't know… be there for each other? You know, when we have nightmares? Just... hold each other, maybe?"

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, your mind suddenly racing with implications. Was he suggesting what you thought he was suggesting? Did he want to… cuddle with you? Your body was suddenly acutely aware of how close you were to him, of the heat that radiated off of his body. You licked your lips before answering, your voice coming out a little huskier than you intended. "I mean… I wouldn't be opposed to that. If you think it would help, then I'm all for it."

Bucky let out a small sigh of relief, his hand moving to cup your cheek, his thumb rubbing soothing circles. "Thank you, Pocket. You have no idea how much it means to me."

You leaned into his touch, a shiver running down your spine at the gentleness of it. "I think I might. I mean, I don't know exactly what you went through, but I know what it's like to feel scared and alone."

Bucky leaned in, his lips brushing against your forehead as he whispered, "Neither of us have to be alone anymore. We'll be here for each other."

And then, without another word, he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close to his chest. You could feel the beat of his heart, steady and strong, and the warmth that radiated off of him made you feel safe, taken care of. You wrapped your arms around him in return, feeling a new sense of peace and security you hadn't known in a long, long time. Maybe ever.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[purplestanleypinkblanket]

A Witch Hunt, Moonlit Solace (1):

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader

Rating: M (16+)

Summary: While on a witch hunt, you and the boys unknowingly walk yourselves into a trap. A trap that opens up old feelings you have long tried to forget.

Warnings: Minor mentions of violence and blood, supernatural elements (aka witches and hex bags), mild language, heavy angst, mild unwanted physical contact (witch taunting the reader), Implied childhood trauma (is only in the final sentence but will be marked a different color and font, as well as will have a warning leading up to it. Implied childhood trauma is spoken about 'being that little girl again' and 'feeling alone'.) Reader experiences illness. Cliff hanger!

Genre: Supernatural, action, slow burn, hurt/comfort (in a sense), angst.

Word Count: 2,923

Master list: Coming Soon!

"Find anything?" Your voice echoed in the bunker's library as you leaned over Dean's shoulder, eyes on the laptop screen. One of your hands rested on the back of his chair while the other was on the table, both supporting your weight.

Dean glanced up at you, unable to keep his eyes on you for long after your last encounter in the garage. It wasn't an awkward moment, so why did he feel so...vulnerable...looking at you now?

"Yea. Some people went missing in Salem, Massachusetts. Looks like it could be worth taking a look at." His voice was slightly rough, well, rougher than usual. Dean lifted his hand off the laptop, bringing it to run over his lower face, thumb trailing his jaw.

"Sounds like you found us a job, Dean." You smiled brightly, relieved for a reason to leave the bunker. It had been a few weeks since the vampire hunt and your itch to see something other than the same damn walls was coming back.

"I don't know if you should come this time." Dean spoke up, sighing as he leaned into the chair, his back pressing against your hand.

"Wait, what?" Your eyebrows rose in surprise, had you heard him, right? He didn't want you to come? You had been with them for almost three years! Sure, it wasn't until recently that you had taken up the stabbing side of hunting, but you worked hard to be helpful!

Dean looked up at you, a frown falling on his lips. As if he could sense every single thought in your head, he spoke, "You just haven't been in-the-field hunting for very long, sweetheart." He lied, hoping his excuse was enough to mask the concern he felt. Dean couldn't just tell you that he suspected witches to be the perpetrators in Salem. Or that everyone disappearing were women who had similar features to you. He didn't need you to stress, to worry, or worse- to insist on coming even more so. You had always been so protective of others in your gender group. Dean could remember the day a man was hitting on a woman who wasn't the least bit interested in a bar you lot were at. He had never seen you rise into action faster than that moment; your fist met the man's face before Dean could even blink.

"Dean." Your serious voice broke him from his trance, "I don't give a flying fuck whether or not I've been in the field long. If people need help, I want to be there." A mutual, unspoken need to look out for the other passed between you. God, your stubbornness frustrated him. Despite how much it aggravated him, it was also endearing. You stuck up for what you believed in. That was something he admired about you.

"We don't even know for sure what we're hunting." Dean countered.

"Do you have any ideas?" You argued back, arms crossing over your torso as you stood strong.

Dean scowled softly at you, a look you returned instantly. A beat passed between you, a silent battle raging. Non verbalized words floated between the two of you.

'You're not coming,' he adamantly straightened his shoulders.

‘Yes I am. You can't stop me.' Rising to his challenge, you also straightened your shoulders, eye’s narrowing.

'Wanna test that theory?' You watched as his eyebrow lifted in the corner just slightly, a small cue to the deep rooted determination he felt. 

Finally, Dean let out an exasperated huff. "Damn it, fine. Just don't do anything stupid, got it? Don't be a hero." A beaming smile crept onto your face at his surrender, it wasn't every day you won an argument against Dean. With a victorious stance, you eagerly leaned down and pressed a thoughtless peck to his face. You knew he didn't want you to come but, boy, were you glad you could. Perhaps you did it because you wanted to cheer him up, to show him appreciation. Or, maybe, it was because of the bad feeling burrowing itself deep into your gut. All too suddenly, you were fully aware of your lips pressed to his cheek. You were aware of how delicate the action was, how your eyes had fluttered for a split second at the contact. Your eyes widened as you froze, you wanted to pull away, you were desperate to. Your face paled just before the storm, humiliation filling you. 

Pulling away far too quickly than you should've, you brought your hand to your lips. Desperate to say anything, to relieve the suddenly uncomfortable awkwardness you felt, you started to speak.

"I...."

Your face burned red hot- a dead giveaway to the deadly embarrassment flooding you. Why on earth would you kiss him?! Why make it awkward! Why wasn't he responding? You watched his jaw clench slightly, the bones of it flexing and unflexing. Dean wasn't moving, his gaze focused ahead. Oh god, what if he tried to talk to you about it? You could only dread the possibilities. With a stutter, you ushered a quick apology, racing towards the stairs in an attempt to escape the situation. Despite having reached the top of the stairs, you paused, looking back at him for a split second, waiting- no, welcoming him to say something. When he didn't speak, or even move, you left.

Dean hadn't untensed from your touch until after you were gone, his face pale as his mind wracked any form of connotation behind the kiss. He wished you had stayed longer and had given him a chance to speak. He wanted to explain why he tensed under you. He wanted to tell you that he was terrified to move only to find out you weren't there. He wanted the kiss to mean more but he found himself scared of that. Dean was petrified of caring for you, and you getting hurt because of it…of him. He looked towards the stairs you had raced up, a frown on his lips. If he had moved, had leaned into the kiss, had grabbed you before you could leave; would you have stayed? Deep down, Dean wanted you to come back, to tell him what it meant.

The only sound in the quiet drive to Salem was Sam. You and Dean had avoided each other for the last few hours, trying to hide from the awkwardness from earlier. 

"All women victims, none have been found..." His voice drowned on, just becoming another distant sound as you stared out the window.

Pain.

Searing, red-hot pain filled your limbs.

You looked down at your shaking hand. Before your eyes, claws sprouted from your nails. Jagged, desperate pleading fell from your lips but all that all that came out was an angry, pained roar.

"Hey, sweetheart." Dean's hands shaking your shoulders brought you back to reality, "You alright?"

"I..." Your gaze was frantic as you looked around, eyes finally landing on Sam and Dean. They had opened the door you sat next to; Dean was leaning inside while Sam peaked in. Concern was evident on both of their faces. "Yea, yea, I'm fine. Sorry." You murmured, shaking your head to get the delusions off your mind. The lingering stretching pain in your limbs continued to haunt you. "Just...spaced out there for a second." You shrugged, grasping Dean's hand as he helped you out of the car. Looking around, you immediately noticed all the small mom and pop shops filled with gothic or Victorian style elements. The town really seemed to embrace they're witch-rich history.

"I'll go get us a room." Sam spoke up after a beat, his eyes moving between you and Dean who still held onto your hand. You glanced at Sam, nodding. You remained silent; your mind still focused on what you had felt in the car.

Pain.

Soul-breaking pain. Your limbs cracked and snapped every which way, followed by a howl of pain each time.

"Hey," Dean called out to you, voice soft and low. His thumb trailed over the back of your hand, grazing along your knuckles. The action was simple enough, but it was exactly what you needed to return to the moment. The warmth of his skin was the perfect reassurance, the comfort of having him so close seemed to soothe the tremble of your fingers. "What's going on?" He asked, concern evident.

"I don't know." You confided, free hand finding your head. "But my head aches like hell." Dean frowned softly, pressing the back of his hand and knuckles to your forehead.

"You're super pale, and sweaty." He observed, brows knitted together as he wiped your sweat off onto your hoodie. Dean kept your hands together, savoring the feeling of your skin against him. He hated the circumstances that surrounded it though, he hated knowing you only let him do so because you needed the comfort.

"Yea, I feel like my body's stretching past its limits." You admitted, voice shaky.

"Why don't you stay in tonight?" Dean offered in a demanding tone. It wasn't a choice he was giving you, even if it was phrased as one.

Instantly, you shook your head, "No. I'll be fine, I just need to eat something, I think." You argued, eyes watching his jaw clench in reluctance. "Really, Dean. I'll be fine." You pleaded with him, hand tightening around his. You watched the internal struggle behind his green eyes. On one hand, he wanted to be able to keep an eye on you. Dean wanted to make sure you were fine, and he couldn't do that if you were in the hotel room. However, he was also worried about you. You were acting odd, spaced out. Like your mind was in a hundred different places but nowhere all at once. He wanted you to rest, to get better.

"We both know if you don't let me come with you and Sam, I'll just wander about by myself." You informed him, as if you could read every thought in his mind.

With a sigh, he finally relented, "Fine but you're staying in the car." He watched your grateful smile form, his hand squeezing yours slightly. He was happy you were smiling, proud even. Although, as the evening went on, Dean couldn't help but wonder if the price was really worth it.

You had been getting worse by the hour. You grew paler, face sickly, your limbs ached and burned more by the minute. Your hair had begun to stick to your face from sweat despite the freezing temperature of your body. Every time Sam and Dean returned to the car, Dean instantly noticed the slight differences in you. You no longer asked about how their questioning went. You never even noticed they were back in the car until the doors slammed.

"Sweetheart." Dean called out to you, snapping you from your trance. The look of concern on his face spoke volumes. Guilt swarmed you, you didn't want to be another burden- another issue. Not when all these women were going missing.

"They tell you anything?" You flashed a sweet smile that failed to reach your sunken eyes.

"Yea, they told us a lot. It's bigger than we thought." Sam added, "Maybe we should check in for the night. It's pretty late anyway." It was late? Your eyebrows shot up in surprise as you looked out the window, it was practically night.

"When...?" You started, startled by the sudden time shift. It felt like it was daytime not even five minutes ago. The cobblestone streets and iron decorative light posts added an eerie feeling to the neighborhood. Dean began the drive back to the motel, casting occasional looks at you through the rearview mirror. He hoped that if he stared long enough then the answer of what is plaguing you would be revealed.

Sam's voice filled the silence as he told you about what they discovered, "Supposedly, these women had started acting weird before they disappeared. They would start to look super sick. Stopped showing up to work, constantly talked about their limbs hurting." Sam shared a look with Dean, both of them clearly disliking how similar the experiences sounded to yours.

"Aint I flattered." You grumbled; voice hoarse. "So, who did it? Some kind of siren? Maybe a dragon?" You listed off the first creatures that came to your mind.

"It's a witch. We found hex bags in the victim's purses." Dean sighed.

The car fell silent as Dean parked at the motel.

"Hex bags...?" You frowned.

"Hex bags." Dean echoed, and, with sudden determination, hopped out of the impala as he strode towards the room.

"Dean?" Sam called out; voice filled with confusion. You shared a glance with Sam, brows furrowed, before you both clambered out of the car and raced to follow him. The door to the motel room was wide open and Dean was inside, your bag in his hands as he tossed your clothing and essentials out.

"Dean!" You gasped, racing forward to stop him. "What the hell are you doing?!" You demanded.

After a few minutes of trying to wrestle your bag from Dean's ripping grip, he pulled out a small hex bag.

"That's it. We're leaving." He adamantly decided. "Sammy, back our shit up in the car. I'll go pay the receptionist." Before either of you could interject, Dean was already out the door. You and Sam shared a look, confusion and concern evident. You cast your gaze down, staring at the hex bag that Dean had thrown aside angrily.

"Sam-..." You started, voice pleading. Women were going missing here, and maybe using this situation to your advantage could help you save those who had yet to fall target.

"Dean's right." Sam voiced; lips pursed with concern. On one hand, he wanted to help prevent other women from becoming victims. But on the other hand, he refused to let you sacrifice yourself. He and Dean had lost so much to the hunting life, and he refused to let you be another name on the list. He wouldn't do that to Dean, he couldn't. Gathering his and Dean's bags, Sam turned to you. "Look, I'm going to put these in the car, then we'll wait for Dean to get back. We'll find a way to fix whatever is going on." His tone was filled with a promise to you. You nodded, guilt and relief wracked your system as he walked out of the room, leaving you alone. You wanted to help these people, wanted to stop whatever was happening to them. Yet, you couldn't deny the relief you felt at the idea of leaving the town haunting you.

It had been almost fifteen minutes since Sam and Dean had left the room. You expected at least Sam to be back by now. With protective hesitance, you stepped outside the room. Cold night nipped your skin as you looked around the parking lot, no sign of Sam near the impala.

"Sam?" You called out, voice holding a strength you currently didn't have.

No response.

Looking around, you stepped towards the impala. "Sam...?"

Still nothing.

Sucking in an ice-cold breath, you frantically looked around, "Dean?" Any strength in your voice was gone when Dean hadn't responded. You could feel your heart pick up its pace as you moved towards the main area that the front desk resided in. Stepping inside, you noticed just how trashed the room was, as if a fight had occurred. Papers and utensils were scattered, chairs flipped and torn. Blood coated the walls and wood lined floor in inconsistent splotches. You knew Dean wasn't here, but that didn't stop the frantic call of your voice. "Dean, please." You stepped into the room more, hand reaching for the small silver pocket knife in your jeans. "I swear to fucking god, Winchester..."

"I don't think God would take too kindly to that." Someone interrupted you. The voice was cold, icy. Whipping around, your eyes landed and a brunette witch with pale eyes, a grin on her lips. Her presence was overwhelming. Just her stare made you want to run away and cry for your mommy. Standing straight, you pulled out your silver pocket knife, arming yourself.

"What in hell did you do to him?" You growled out, prepared to fight. "Tell me or I'll-"

"Or you'll what? Pretty me to death?" The witch taunted. You stepped towards her, suddenly aware of how sluggish your body was. How exhaustion wracked you. With determination, you continued to move towards her despite your failing body. Your jaw clenched when you found yourself stumbling to your knees in front of her, blade falling from your hand. The ache in your limbs was overpowering, and your eyes felt as if they hadn't found solace in sleep for almost a year. "You fought pretty damn well." The witch pointed out, patting your head as if you were a new trophy, "Lasted far longer than the others. And you're still going!" She laughed. "Yes, you'll do nicely."

Darkness closed in around you as you fell to the floor, no longer able to fight back whatever charm she had put on you. You felt alone, scared. Dean wasn't there, he wasn't there to take your hand, to call you sweetheart. Sam wasn't there to tell you lighthearted stories that humiliated his brother.

(Warning: Implied childhood trauma)

It all came crashing to you how alone you truly were right now. How you hadn't felt this alone since... A sob wracked your body.

Just like that, you were the little girl you tried so hard to leave behind.