#they should follow their sons lead and come out
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My friends and I joke about how Declan Mckenna is Miles Kane and Alex Turner’s secret son.
#i dont know anything about declan ive just been listening to his music and loving it for over 5 years#he has sparkly blue makeup sometimes and that reminds me of miles too#theres probably a lot more parallels between them but like i said idk declan well enough#please add more if you know any#they should follow their sons lead and come out#they have 2 sons actually; declan and al pacino#declan mckenna#miles kane#alex turner#charlie time#?
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Marry Me
Summary : Rhaenyra’s daughter is off limits, but Aegon won’t allow her to marry anyone else. Based off this request.
Aegon Targaryen x Velaryon (Strong)!Reader
Princess Y/N Velaryon is easily the most beautiful woman to grace the seven kingdoms, by all counts of every Lord and Lady.
Alicent reminds her son often, “she cannot speak. There is more to it than the King lets on and we’ve no way of knowing if the same condition will be present in her heirs.”
“Y/N has plenty to say, to those who will listen.” She does not speak with her voice, but through written word, through her eyes, her laugh and her smile.
“I’ve said no.” Alicent snaps, “it is out of the question.” She slams his chamber door shut behind her.
Still Aegon makes it a point to check in with the Princess, to be kind. Even if they cannot marry, surely they can be friends.
This day, she is nose deep in a book when Aegon spots her in the gardens. “What book is that now?” He asks.
Y/N smiles, lifting the bound pages to present the spine.
“A Tale Of Two…” He cocks his head to the side to make out the rest of the title, “Dragons.“
She nods.
“Is it any good?” Aegon wonders, taking a seat beside her in the grass.
Y/N slides the open page into his lap, pointing to a passage on the left.
“A love story,” he realizes.
Y/N stares down at her hands.
Aegon taps a finger to her chin, “you should write a book.”
She shakes her head.
“I would read it.” He tells her truthfully, taking in the full effect of her peach colored gown in the afternoon sun.
The princess returns her attention to the book pages.
————————————————————————
Some weeks later, Cregan Stark arrives from the North, on behalf of his house, to negotiate a potential alliance with the Riverlands which the King has the final say in.
Viserys hosts a feast in Stark’s honor, followed by festivities in the grand hall.
Aegon is polite enough when Cregan comes to collect wine from the table.
“I could not help but notice the Princess while you were dancing.” Stark says, making harmless conversation.
“Y/N,” Aegon smiles, fondly.
“She is beautiful.” Cregan is equally entranced, “I must speak to her.”
“She does not speak.” Aegon reaches a hand out to stop him, with a forced grin.
“To you or to anyone?” Stark continues staring at Y/N over Aegon’s head.
“To anyone,” Aegon tells him. If she did speak, it would be to him first. Not some stranger.
“Well that’s no matter.” He pats Aegon once on the shoulder, “I’m going to introduce myself.”
Aegon stares, eyes wide as Stark crosses the room to Y/N.
Taking her hand in his and bringing it to his lips. “Cregan Stark, your grace.”
Y/N smiles, nodding her head in acknowledgement.
“This is my darling daughter, Y/N.” Rhaenyra says, proudly. Brushing dark waves behind her daughter’s ear.
“It is an honor to make your acquaintance.” Cregan says, “I was wondering if you might like to dance.”
Y/N nods, allowing him to lead her out onto the floor.
Aegon reaches for another cup, drowning his sadness in it.
“That is a fine match.” King Viserys says, watching them from his chair.
“Indeed, Husband.” Alicent agrees.
“Mayhaps a betrothal, in time.” Rhaenyra beams at her father.
————————————————————————
Each day Stark comes to Y/N with an offer of courtship, a new way they might spend time together. He appears to her with flowers, and little gifts he’s acquired from the North. He tells stories of his homeland and the things they might do together, as Aegon plots his murder.
Squeezing his glass so forcefully at supper that night it shatters in his grasp.
“Aegon!” Viserys shouts, as the red wine bleeds onto the dinner table.
Y/N pushes away from the table, rounding the line of chairs to his side. Plucking shards of glass from his skin, with her bare hands and covering his bloody palm with the pristine white fabric of her napkin. She stares at him, expectantly.
Aegon sighs, with a shake of his head. Leaving the dinner table, quietly. Sometimes, it is best not to speak, especially when no one cares what you have to say.
————————————————————————
In the week that follows, Aegon becomes more withdrawn.
Y/N can’t help but think it is something she’s done. Mayhaps their friendship is not something that interests him any longer. Which will make it easier now that Cregan has asked for her hand.
When Alicent gathers her children to break the news that the official betrothal will be celebrated that night, Aegon nearly refuses to attend the procession.
Do they truly expect him to sit there and be merry as Y/N is given away to a near stranger?
Y/N taps her mother’s hand anxiously, before the announcement is made.
“It’s alright,” Rhaenyra assures her, “there’s nothing to be nervous about.”
Y/N shakes her head.
“You must marry, sweet girl. Cregan is a good man, he will treat you well.”
Her eyes plead with her mother.
“Who then?” Rhaenyra sighs.
The woman’s gaze flits to Aegon across the room, staring at her with clenched fists.
Aegon inhales sharply, moving toward her on unsteady legs.
“Don’t you dare.” Alicent catches his arm, but it is too late.
Aegon tears his arm free, Y/N is already moving toward him. Pulled together by some invisible force, neither one can explain. “Y/N, I first wish to apologize for the distance between us as of late.”
Y/N’s eyes soften, alight with a fondness reserved only for Aegon.
“But I do not want some Stark bringing you flowers. I want to do it. I cannot stand the sight of you dancing with him when I want to dance with you. I do not begrudge you happiness but I…I love you and I’d like you to be happy with me.” Aegon drops to his knees, “marry me.”
“Aegon!” Alicent protests, only to be silenced by her husband, the king.
“Please.” Aegon says, ignoring his mother’s outburst.
Y/N tugs at his hand, until he stands. Her eyes searching his.
Aegon cups her face in his hands, chest heaving with nerves. “You will want for nothing so long as I live, I swear.”
Y/N rests her hands over his, nodding.
“Yes?” Aegon stammers, “you’ll marry me?”
Another nod and blinding smile.
He pulls her into his arms. “Thank you.”
Y/N holds him just as tightly, tapping at his back a moment later.
“What is it, my heart?” He pulls back, ever so slightly.
Y/N presses her lips to his, sealing the deal.
#house of the dragon#aegon targaryen x you#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon targaryen#hotd aegon#aegon ii#aegon imagine
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each man's mad desire
General Marcus Acacius x F!Reader
Rating: Explicit
Summary: Marcus Acacius is a conqueror. You invite him to conquer you.
Word Count: 3.8k
Tags: marcus fucks a nymph, predator/prey, knifeplay, blood, thigh riding, rough sex, sorta consensual-non-consent? Reader very explicitly wants him and invites him to hunt her down. Marcus has an unfashionably huge dick.
A/N: I swore I wasn't going to write for another character from an unreleased film, yet here we are. I loved studying Classics, so there are easter eggs within for those familiar with mythology. "Nymph" is more Greek than Roman, but it's also the better-known version of the word. Barcinus is a completely made-up cognomen for him (from the Latin name for Barcelona). Ichor is a Greek concept, but too delicious not to borrow here. Big dicks really were considered unattractive - it was a sign of barbarism to have a big penis. Title from Book IX of The Aeneid. Painting is 'The Charmer' by John William Waterhouse. (ao3)
The battle is won, the men are settled, and General Marcus Acacius is restless. He wears the efforts of the day in the blood and grime and sand coating his skin, the ache in his muscles. The city is retaken. The barbarians have been slaughtered or captured. He knows he should rest.
And yet, he wanders.
The camp is close by the beach. As he walks, the sound of the army behind him fades away, drowned out by the sound of the sea. The inviting aroma of the campfires and roasting meat is replaced by the smell of salt. There are sentries out here, somewhere in the night. He pays them no mind; he wishes to be alone. Grass turns to sand underfoot and still Acacius walks on. At the edge of the sea, he pauses briefly.
Across the Great Sea, to the east, stands Rome. It’s veiled by darkness and distance, but he turns to look for it anyway. He misses it the way a loyal son misses a beloved father. Word of a great victory will travel before him, the whispers moving faster than any army can.
When he returns home, he hopes he will be warmly welcomed. Those seeking to ride his skirts into Imperial favour will doubtless fall over themselves to praise him, at least. They will preen and flatter, and he will nod humbly and thank them.
“The Gods were with me.” It is always his answer, when asked of his victories. It is a clean answer. Men praise him for his piety; they do not imagine the lives he has sacrificed, the atrocities he has committed, the horrors of sacking a city. The Gods were with him; he does not have to speak of loosing his men like feral dogs upon innocents, of slaughtering barbarian sons so they cannot grow up to seek their vengeance on Rome.
Acacius turns and walks down the beach, leaving the camp behind him. The silvery light of the stars and moon light his path along the coast. He simply enjoys being away from all others, the crash of the waves and his own footsteps the only noise he can hear. The ground to his right begins to rise, soft grass yielding to rock. He has no sense of how long he has walked for when the beach before him suddenly ends. The shoreline curves sharply inward, creating a rocky inlet.
He has no desire to turn back now. Perhaps the path reemerges on the other side. He follows the curve of the stone inward. Ahead, he can see the path sloping down towards the waterline, leading towards the dark mouth of a cave. The tide is coming in; the water at the entrance to the grotto must be at least knee-deep.
Acacius is turning to leave when he notices her.
The inlet in the rock forms a pool at the entrance to the cave. Even in the silvery moonlight, the water looks beautiful and clear. It should not surprise him that a maiden might come to bathe there, away from prying eyes.
For it is a maiden that stops him in his tracks, fixes his boots to the stone. Her back is turned to him; she is perched atop a rock, her bare feet dangling in the saltwater of the pool. Now that he is aware of her, he thinks he hears her singing over the sounds of the waves, a melody he does not recognise.
An honourable man would depart. Acacius can only see her back, but she must be noble. Her dress is so white it is almost blinding, even in the starlight. Her feet are bare, but he spies a pair of finely-wrought sandals on the rocks beside her. Certainly a noble lady then.
His mind is made up to leave.
And at that very moment, she turns.
***
You had not expected to be discovered. Perhaps you might have toyed with him if you had. You could have disguised yourself as a maiden in need of assistance, a princess cast ashore by a shipwreck. There are endless amusements to be found among the mortals.
Yet he has stumbled upon your grotto quite by accident, and from your first glimpse, he intrigues you.
Marcus Acacius Barcinus.
Something whispers his name to you; you know it as soon as you see him, just as you know he has dark hair threaded with grey. You allow a smile to play on your lips.
To his credit, this man does not move. Confronted with something so nakedly celestial, other men have lost their minds. What is it for a man to look upon the face of the divine? They do not always survive it. This one seems strong. He may yet survive you.
��Hail, noble General,” you start, turning in your seat on the rock so you may face him more directly. He is a handsome one. His lovely dark eyes drink you in from head to toe.
“You know me?” He manages after a moment. Not mad then, not yet anyway. You laugh, and he seems startled by the sound.
“I do.” Sliding off the rock you step into the water, your stola clinging to your skin. “General Marcus Acacius Barcinus, son of Gaius Acacius. Your piety is known.” He is always attentive with his sacrifices. You can smell the burning flesh and spilled wine dedicated to the heavens from here, in honour of his latest victory.
You take a few steps towards him. He’s still atop the rocky crest, almost looking down on you. You near the base of the slope, your skirts drying the moment they leave the water, and halt again. The mouth of the grotto is to your back; you can hear the lap of the waves echoing against the rocky walls.
“And which noble goddess do I have the honour of addressing?” He asks. You have many names, too many to sift through. A mortal wrote you into a poem once; you give him the name the poet gave you.
“I had not thought ever to look upon a nymph before.” There is something in the way he says it; a tone of disbelief colouring his voice. It’s as though he expects to wake up in his tent at any moment. In the dark violet light of twilight, the blood on his skin looks brown and rusty. You can almost taste the iron on the air.
“Are you content merely to look?” You ask him, a sly smile on your lips. You already know he is not. This man is a conqueror, and he is looking at you with all the intensity and desire of a man set upon conquest. He does not speak for a long moment. Perhaps he is afraid of offending you, of saying the wrong thing and finding himself transformed into a pig or sea foam.
You walk a little closer to him, emerging from the water. Closer now, the smell of him drowning out the salt of the sea. He reeks of man, of blood and sweat and such pure vitality you nearly stagger. He’s so breathtakingly alive. If all mortal men are thus, you understand why your sisters seek them out and take them to bed, even bear their children.
“I admire a man who knows how to take what he desires. A conqueror in all things,” you continue, feeling the warmth of his gaze as he watches the sway of your hips. Once you are an arm’s length away from him, you reach out. You cannot help it. He’s such a marvellous specimen of manhood, the kind that ought to be honoured with a kingdom or a divine son or his form traced in the stars.
He does not stop you when you rest your palm against the leather of his cuirass. It’s warm to the touch, whether from the heat of his body or a day of the sun beating down upon it. The black leather has a gilded woman’s face across the front; Minerva perhaps. It gives you pause. If he values Minerva and her strategies above Mars and his frenzy, he may not enjoy your games.
Nevertheless, you will not let the tastes of mortal men unnerve you. He watches you as you undo the knot at one shoulder, and wordlessly reaches to help you. Together, the two of you free him from his heavy armour. As he sets it down gently against the rock, you nearly choke on him. You can hear the thrum of his heart, smell the salt of his sweat, the iron in his blood.
You have never starved. Yet this conqueror of men is like being blessed with a feast and realising for the first time that you have been dying of hunger all your life. Freed from his heavy leathers, you step so closely to him that your glimmering white dress brushes against his filthy red tunic. You reach out to cup his jaw, enjoying the way his skin feels to your touch.
He swallows thickly, his lovely eyes searching your face.
“I want you.” He says it simply, though you know it must have taken courage. Men have died for such insults before. You let a smile curl around your lips.
“Mars himself had my maidenhead. I do not submit easily to the advances of men.” Standing on tiptoe, you lean in until your lips nearly touch the shell of his ear. “If you want me, you will have to take me.”
It’s all the prompting you give him before you turn and run.
You run down the beach, back the way he came. You have more powerful kin who could outrun him with ease, if they chose. Minerva could be a continent away in moments, if she chose. You do not have their same powers; you might be fleeter of foot than a mortal woman, but you cannot transform yourself into a swan and fly back to the heavens.
Behind you, you hear Acacius’ feet pounding against the sand. The noise blurs with the roar of his heartbeat, thumping harder as he chases you. You run faster, pulling your skirts up with one hand so they cannot tangle around your legs. It has been far too long since you felt this exhilarated. Off in the distance, you can see the lights of his camp, the torches and bonfires burning brightly in the twilight.
You lose yourself to the chase, paying the distance no mind as you race down the beach. Sand flies up beneath your bare feet, gritty under your toes as you run. Something in you wants to turn around, to see if the handsome general is still close behind you. You can hear him well enough to know he is behind you, but not well enough to gauge the distance.
You don’t look. You only run.
Even though you had invited the hunt, desperately hoping to be caught, the hand that catches your waist surprises you. He seizes you by the waist and tackles you into the sand, pinning you beneath his muscular bulk. The feeling of being trapped sends a perverse thrill racing through you, something warm stirring in your belly.
Though he has caught you, you do not give in so easily.
You thrash underneath him, trying to throw him off you. Acacius is unyielding. His large hands grip your arms; his knees squeeze at your sides. You get one arm free and bring it up. You’re not sure what you intend to do; you don’t want to break him. Scratch him, perhaps? You never get the chance to find out.
Before you see him move, he seizes your arm and pins your wrist beneath his foot. One hand flies to your throat; the other draws a dagger from its sheath and holds the point against the swell of your breast.
For a long moment, you cannot breathe. The large hand at your throat squeezes just enough to threaten a loss of air. The foot on your wrist makes the delicate bones there grind together on just the right side of pleasure-pain. And oh, the blade at your heart. The tip pierces your skin and you don’t know whether to scream or cry or vomit from the shock.
You have never been so still in your life.
When has anything mortal ever pierced your skin? When has anything mortal managed to cut through the skin of your kith and kin? You have vague memories; bandaging Mars’ side after the great spearman Diomedes struck him outside Ilium. You watch in horror and awe as a bead of ichor seeps from the pinprick wound. Mars has made you bleed before, but you never thought a mortal might draw your glittering, golden blood.
You look up at him, your conqueror. He is panting hard, but his face shows no exhaustion; only determination. His eyes are nearly black with desire, and his lovely black and grey curls are damp with sweat. Gods, you want him. You want him to hunt you down as he would a deer, to throw you down and take you like some common mortal whore.
Watching you closely, Acacius eases his grip on your throat. A man used to gauging the weakness of his enemies has seen right through you in turn. He knows you do not need air to breathe. He knows he has done something astounding in the knife at your breast. He holds it steady as he reaches beneath the skirts of his tunic, pulling at the strings of his underthings. He pulls it free with a grunt and discards it beside you in the sand.
Free from its confinement, his manhood pushes against the skirt of his tunic. Something low in your belly twists in anticipation, slick coating the insides of your thighs. Your blood feels as though it’s boiling beneath your skin as Acacius grips the fine cloth of your stola in one filthy hand.
“You are the most beautiful thing I have ever laid eyes upon,” he tells you, in all sincerity. You tremble underneath him as he pushes your skirts up around your waist, another bead of ichor welling up around the tip of the blade.
You gasp as the metal shifts, and his eyes flick to your face. Almost lovingly, his hand wraps around your throat again.
“Do you yield?” When no reply is immediately forthcoming, he presses his advantage. The hand at your throat and foot at your wrist push harder; more glittering blood beads at your breast. The surface tension finally breaks, sending the blood dripping down towards your neck.
“I yield.” In an instant, he relaxes his hold. The foot on your wrist disappears, as does the blade. The hand on your throat remains, tipping your head up so he can kiss you. He kisses like his master, Mars; hard and demanding. You return the kiss with bruising intensity, nipping at his lower lip. It seems only fair that you make him bleed a little, in turn.
His beard prickles against your skin, and you answer it by sliding your hand into his curls and pulling roughly. Acacius groans against your mouth, crushing himself closer to you and forcing your legs apart with his knee. His muscular thigh presses against your bare cunt, the pressure sending liquid fire dancing through your body. You rut up against his thigh eagerly, your slick smearing against his skin.
Acacius notices your movements, breaking off the kiss to stare at you. The raw lust in his eyes makes you keep going, rocking your hips desperately against him. His thigh flexes between your legs, and you groan loudly. Without taking his eyes off you, his hand drifts to cup your breast, tantalisingly close to the tiny wound on your unblemished skin.
“Are you going to stab me again, slayer of men?” You ask him, tauntingly. You wouldn’t mind if he did.
“No, dear mistress. I’ll watch you debase yourself on my thigh.” Oh, you want to keep him. Your sisters have kept mortals before; you remember well the fuss around sweet Hylas, cunning Ulysses. Your conqueror finds your nipple through the fine material of your dress, the flesh stiffening beneath his fingers as he toys with you.
Your hips roll easier, faster as you sink deeper into your pleasure. Every glide becomes slicker as you soak his skin. It’s been some time since you’ve so blatantly sought your own pleasure, and you welcome it back eagerly. That familiar tension is coiling tightly in your belly and sends you spiralling higher with every movement.
Acacius watches you with fascination. His own pleasure is forgotten for the moment, though you suppose he is enjoying this. Something divine rubbing against him like a cat in heat; no man alive would believe him if he told them. Your breath comes in short, sharp gasps and you clutch at Acacius’ wrist to ground yourself. He’s so solid and warm to your touch; his vitality is unlike any aphrodisiac you have ever known.
It’s not long before you come with a cry, your nails digging into Acacius’ skin as you shudder against him. The fire in your belly burns through you, the heat of it radiating out to your fingertips. It leaves you boneless beneath your conqueror. He seizes the advantage, pulling your legs wider apart to slot his other leg between them.
You struggle. Why not? It amuses you to make him manhandle you into place. He pulls your legs wider with one hand. With the thumb of the hand at your breast, he presses just below the cut. The burst of pain makes you hiss. Cowed, you let him pull your legs apart, his eyes feasting on your cunt. You must look a mess, swollen and soaked.
Acacius lets go of your leg and pulls up the hem of his tunic. He’s big, unfashionably so for his countrymen. Beads of fluid leak from the reddened tip, and he swipes them away with his thumb. He settles himself between your thighs, and you gasp when he notches the blunt head of his cock against your entrance. Without warning or reprieve, he forces his cock inside you.
You throw your head back against the sand, stars exploding against your closed eyelids as you dance along the knife edge of pleasure and pain. A deep groan rumbles out of Acacius’ throat as he presses deeper, working against your tight muscles to seat himself within you. He’s unrelenting, his length thick and twitching as it fills you.
There’s no other word for it; you wail up at the star-strewn sky, pleasure flooding through you. Your body feels too small to contain the fire being stoked inside you, deep in your core. You pull at Acacius, nails clawing, dragging him down to kiss you. His lips meet yours in a messy crash, all tongues and teeth as he finally seats himself fully within you.
He barely allows you a moment to adjust. He retreats almost fully, his cock nearly leaving you completely, before sliding back in with one fluid stroke of his hips. You’re shaken by how willingly your body accepts him, colouring any pain with so much pleasure you barely notice the discomfort. His hand finds your throat again, squeezing just enough to make you feel lightheaded.
Acacius’ incursions become sharper, harder, as he finds his rhythm. Your hands slide under the hem of his tunic to clutch at his back, your nails leaving behind tiny red crescents in his skin. Every breath you take is shared by him, your mouths so close together you can taste the wine lingering on his tongue. The two of you move together, your moans melting into one another as you fuck like animals in the sand.
It doesn’t take him long to send you over the edge again. Bliss wipes all words from your mind; you can only lie there and let your release crash over you. The ichor in your veins feels like it’s singing. Acacius looks down on you in awe, and it only drives you higher. You want to keep him. The Heroic Age is too far past; the world is lacking for heroes. Perhaps you and Acacius can make a few; handsome, strong boys, half-god children who reflect their father’s divine favour.
“Would you give me sons, Acacius?” You ask, breathless at his onslaught. Your foreheads are pressed together still; you cannot see the look on his face. He groans sharply, his hands clutch tighter at you. Is that a yes? What greater blessing to a pious man than a son born to a goddess.
He certainly shows no signs of stopping. He fucks you with the same vigour he fights with. You feel like you’re floating, high above your own body, lost completely to pleasure. Jupiter himself could command you to stop, and you’d be unable to obey. You grow restless beneath him. His hand has slackened around your throat, so you lean down to lick a line across his neck. The taste of salt and iron explodes across your tongue, so delicious that you have to force yourself not to sink your teeth in.
Acacius grunts above you, forcing you back down against the sand. His hips are stuttering; a sign that he’s close to his own release. You want to cry, want to prolong this as much as possible, but you know he has limits. Your sisters have pushed mortal men too far before; you will not make the same mistake, not with so delicious a playmate.
Instead you spur him on. Your nails dig harder into his back, making him groan sharply. His short, desperate thrusts make your eyes roll back into your skull as he touches something deep and private within you, unknown to anyone else.
“I- I must-” He starts, words failing him as he chases his release. You pepper his face with kisses, nip at his kiss-swollen lips.
“You must,” you agree. “I want you to fill me up.” You’re both breathless, barely any air between your bodies to breathe. One of your hands slides into his curls, pulling at them. You guide his head down until your lips are at his ear again.
“I could give you a son,” you whisper. “But only if you finish inside me. Claim me; mark me as yours. Conquer me.”
He tips over the edge with a loud groan, his hips stuttering as he comes. You can feel his cock twitch inside you as he does, filling you with his seed. Perhaps something might catch; he seems virile enough. You cradle his head against the crook of your neck as he catches his breath, his body heavy as he relaxes on top of you.
“Noble Acacius,” you murmur fondly, stroking his curls. “Marcus. What do you make of your new conquest?” He is quiet for a long moment. The crash of the waves fills the silence, the tide drawing closer. Soon, the two of you will have to move.
“I shall never know another victory like it.”
Taglist:
Tagging some people who might be interested: @iamasaddie (per their request for Acacius filth) @avengersfan25 @misscharlielulu @apenny4thots @its-nebuleuse
#general marcus acacius#marcus acacius#marcus acacius x reader#marcus acacius fanfiction#gladiator 2
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it's a date || spencer reid x reader
part 2
warnings: cannon-typical violence/mentions of murder and kidnapping, slow burn, fluff!, early seasons spencer, not proof read
word count: 6.1k
You sigh and crack your knuckles, staring down at the pot simmering on the stove. You know that the sauce would be okay if you left it for a few minutes, did something else, but you remain standing, uselessly stirring it every few seconds. Truthfully, you’re bored. Your mind shifts from cooking to work tomorrow, itching to pull out your documents and scan through them one more time. But you know you shouldn’t, advise about work-life balance tugging at your attention.
You’re debating if you should pick up a book and try to read, something light to take your mind off of the day, when a knock sounds from the front door. Your dog, Penny, a lovely golden retriever you rescued a few years ago, lets out a weak woof before slowly standing and trotting to the door. She’s old, more grey than golden, but she never fails to answer the door with you.
You turn the stove off and move the pot off of the burner, wiping your hands as you walk, when another knock echoes through the hallway. It’s sharp, official, loud. The sound fills you with anxiety. You stand on your toes to look out of the peephole.
“Hello?” You ask through the door, not recognizing the men standing outside and seeing no package in sight.
“Hello, Jason Gideon, FBI, could we have a word?” The older man says, voice stern but not unkind.
You open the door without unlatching the chain, peering out through the crack. “FBI?”
Jason Gideon, the one who spoke, pulls out his badge first. The lankier man next to him follows in suit. Your eyes linger on him for a second longer than the other agent, taking in his toussled brown hair. You scan the badges for a second before shutting the door to undo the chain.
“Sorry, you can’t be too careful, you know?”
“Oh, we know that all too well,” Gideon says good-naturedly, “it’s good to be cautious.”
He asks your name, you give it, and nods sharply, looking to his partner. “Well, like I said, I’m Jason Gideon with the Behavioral Analysis Unit, FBI, and this is my partner Doctor Spencer Reid.”
“Well, come on in, Agent Gideon and Dr. Reid,” you say, waving them both in and shutting the door.
“Just Gideon is fine.”
Dr. Reid sends you a tight lipped smile as he walks in, adjusting his shirt and otherwise avoiding your gaze. He seems nervous.
“Would you two like something to drink while you tell me why you’re here? Coffee, tea, water?” You ask, twisting the dishcloth between your hands as you lead them inside.
“I wouldn’t say no to some coffee,” Gideon says. You nod and turn to Dr. Reid, who is staring at you with his mouth slightly agape.
“Oh, yeah, coffee for me too, please.”
“Of course, have a seat,” you say, waving them to the small table in your kitchen and moving to prepare their drinks. Neither of them sit.
“How well do you know your neighbors?” Gideon asks as you start the coffee.
You shrug. “As well as anyone does these days, I guess. I wave when I drive past them, smile when they’re out front at the same time. Why, has something happened? I saw the police cars earlier, on my way home from work, but I haven’t heard anything else.”
“Yes ma’am,” Dr. Reid says, even though he looks your age, maybe even a few years older. “Your neighbor across the street was murdered last night, Mrs. Furgison, and her eight-year-old son is missing. Did you hear anything?”
You fall still, facing away from the two officers. Numb, you shake your head, “No, I didn’t. I wasn’t home last night. I was watching my niece for my sister.” You turn around to face them, leaning back against the counter. “But there are cameras outside, I’m assuming that’s why you’re here?” “Yes,” Gideon confirms with a nod. “Would you be okay if we took a look at the last few weeks of footage if you have it?”
“You want to see if he’s been visiting before last night,” you mumble, nodding. “Yes, of course.”
“Do you work in law enforcement?” Dr. Reid asks, the question erupting from him like he couldn’t hold it back. “You’re shockingly calm and seem to know what we’re going to ask before we get to it.”
“Oh, yeah,” you chuckle, waving a hand in the air and turning to pull the pot of coffee out. “BAU, of course, you’d see right through me. I’m a victim liaison. I read through this process hundreds of times a week. Sugar?”
“No, thanks,” Gideon answers as Dr. Reid blurts out, “Yes, please.”
You set the mugs on the kitchen counter along with a container of sugar.
“Help yourself, I’ll grab my laptop to get those files for you.”
When you come back, laptop in tow, Gideon and Dr. Reid are having a hushed conversation, both holding their mugs of coffee. You round the corner slowly but loudly, aware that sometimes agents can be jumpy. Gideon smiles at you while Dr. Reid looks over sharply.
It fits, given their ages and presumably how long each have been in the field. You try to send him a reassuring smile. He reciprocates but still looks obviously awkward, fixing his hair and taking a sip of coffee.
“Would you like me to put the files on a USB? Email them somewhere? Or just,” you motion with the computer, offering it over.
“I can take it,” Dr. Reid offers, “send the files to Garcia.”
You let him, passing him the computer easily. With your job, the government is already elbows deep in that laptop, anyway; you have nothing to hide.
You watch as Dr. Reid begins typing away on your computer, leaning over the table and resting his forearms on the edge.
Both of the agents are dressed professionally: button-down shirts, slacks, dress shoes. Guns ready at the hip.
“You like to cook?” Gideon asks, nodding toward your forgotten pasta on the stove.
“Yes and no,” you admit, chuckling and turning your attention to him. “It always tastes better than takeout but it’s hard to get the motivation. Are you hungry? Can I offer you anything else?”
“Oh, that won’t be necessary, but thank you.”
“Of course. I know how overworked you lot can be.” You cross your arms and lean back against your counter. “What about you? Do you cook?”
“Not as often as I should,” he admits, smiling sadly. “Victim liaison, you said?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You seem a little young.” “Could say the same about him.” You nod at Dr. Reid who doesn’t hear you, too focused on his work. “But I guess drive and pretty much no social life can get you anywhere,” you admit with a laugh.
“Garcia should have the files in a minute,” Dr. Reid interrupts, looking up from your laptop.
“I’ll give her a call.”
He steps out with a nod to you, walking back into the front hallway of your small home and leaving you alone with the doctor.
He opens his mouth to say something before his eyes focus over your shoulder and his attention is stolen. “Sorry,” he says, moving past you and into your living room, toward your bookshelf. “Is that a Russian copy of Crime and Punishment?” He asks, brushing his finger over the spine of the book.
“Oh, yeah, it is.” You follow him, staring up at your own bookshelf like you’ve never seen it before. It’s crammed full of books. There are more filling your bedroom down the hall as well. “It’s a slow read, I have to use a lexicon a lot of the time, but I sort of like the work. Translating’s a hobby of mine, I guess. When I have time. Sorry, that might be weird.”
“No, it’s not weird at all! Not to me, at least. Are you using a Dictionary-based lexicon? Can I see it? I have one that I love. I haven’t read much Russian but I have one for Greek. They’re rarely used anymore, falling out of popularity with the creation of the internet where everything is readily available to just search up, but I find them fascinating and I’ve never seen one for Russian before.”
He talks enthusiastically with his hands. His eyes shine, the interest lighting up his face. You think, before you remember the reason why he’s there, that he’s actually quite handsome. You become slightly breathless at the realization. You don’t really notice people like this often. But, towering above you, buttoned shirt pushed up to show his forearms and a self-concious smile stretching across his face, you’re a little flustered.
You take a breath, remembering that your neighbor is dead and a little boy is missing, sending Dr. Reid a small smile and motioning behind you.
“It’s in my office if you want to go look at it. I prefer it to just typing out the stuff I don’t know — mostly because I don’t have a Russian keyboard — and it’s easier to learn when you have to research it.”
“I would actually love –”
“Reid,” Gideon interrupts, ending his call, “Garcia got the files, we have to go.”
“Oh, yes, of course.”
“Thank you so much for your help,” Gideon says, walking toward you and offering his hand. “And for the coffee. So sorry to have interrupted your cooking.”
“Anytime detective,” you say, shaking his hand and smiling up at him, “always happy to help. I can give you my card if you need anything else?”
“That would be great, thank you.”
You rush to your bag to pull out one of your cards and hand it to Gideon before turning to offer Dr. Reid your hand.
“It was nice to meet you, too, Dr. Reid.”
He takes your hand firmly. “Spencer’s fine,” he says, stumbling over his words slightly but still smiling. “Thank you for your help.”
“Anytime,” you repeat, letting them out and returning to your sad pasta.
Your mind wonders, not to the murder or kidnapping, but to Spencer Reid. Wide brown eyes, tousled hair pushed out of his face, a sweet smile. Smart, too. Way too smart.
You’re not exactly experienced when it comes to dating, you hadn’t lied to Gideon when you said you don’t make time for a social life, dating included, but you do know that an interest in a too-smart profiler might spell bad news.
Still, as you portion out your meal, you can’t help but think that you’re feeling awfully motivated to return to working on Crime and Punishment. You don’t lie to yourself about the origins of this sudden spark of motivation, but you do rationalize it. What’s the harm in a fleeting crush, then? Especially if it gives you the push to finally finish one of the many projects hanging on your ever-growing list?
You suppose you might see them arround the office if they’re working in this jurisdiction, but then he’ll be gone and it’ll fade away. In the meantime, you make yourself a plate of food and settle down in your living room with the book and lexicon.
||||
“Well, that certainly poses an interesting problem,” you hear Cheif Saunders say as you walk into the police department the next morning, arms full of files ready for sorting.
You round the corner to escape this attention but aren’t fast enough and he calls you over by name. Cringing, you turn on your heel and are faced, once again, with Gideon and Spencer. With them are two more men and two girls, all intimidating and confident.
All FBI, if you had to wager a bet.
“Morning,” you say, nodding to Gideon and Spencer respectively. “Nice to see you two again.”
“You’ve met?” The tall man next to Gideon asks, pointing the question to Spencer. He grins, white teeth overtaking his dark, handsome face. He reaches his hand out to shake yours, “Morgan, nice to meet you.”
You introduce yourself, explain your position, and receive introductions from JJ, Elle, and Hotchner as well.
“Where did you meet our friends?” Chief Saunders asks, folding his hands in front of him and setting an accusatory glare on you. “Still preening for a new job?”
“No sir,” you say, uncomfortable. The chief is often cold with you, refusing to acknowledge your knowledge or work. When he found that you were looking to transfer stations to the one a district over, he’d still thrown a fit, though. You guess he can’t ignore how well your numbers reflect on him as easily as he deflects your accomplishments to your face.
“We stopped by to get access to her cameras, she lives across the street from the Furgison’s,” Gideon explains, watchful eyes glancing between you and the chief.
“They proved to be surprisingly useful,” Spencer interrupts. “We now know the make, model, and color of the unsubs car as well as his general height. Garcia is still trying to make out plates, but we are able to confirm at least pieces of our profile with the information.”
“You live across the street?” The chief asks, still staring at you. You shift your weight, holding the files closer to your chest.
“Yes, sir. In a duplex.”
“Then, fellas, I’ve found the solution to our problem. You’ll set up with our little liaison, then.”
“Sorry?” You ask, startled.
“We have reason to believe that the unsub is returning to the crime scenes after the police have left the area and allowed the family to return. But, if we know our guy, and we think we do,” Elle says, begrudingly, “he’s smart. He’s going to notice if we’re camped out in a car. And, in a residential street, it’s much harder to hide in a building.”
“So, you’ll have the opportunity to make yourself useful,” Chief Saunders chuckles, laying a heavy hand on your shoulder and shaking you.
“Only if you’re comfortable,” Gideon adds, glancing at you with a patient expression.
“Yes, it would be a complete invasion of your privacy, agents would be there twenty-four-seven monitoring. We would only stay in the front areas of the house, of course, but you needn’t do anything you’re not comfortable with. There are always other ways.” Agent Hotchner fixes you with a level look, voice sincere.
“Oh, she’s comfortable, aren’t ya?” The chief says, shaking you again with a wide smile.
“Yes, of course,” you say, nodding at the others. You mean it, you’ll do whatever you can to help out, you just wish you could’ve made the choice yourself.
“This way, you don’t have to worry about confidentiality, either. Little Miss has full access to ongoing investigations, she’ll be there for all of the briefings and such.”
You nod, discretely moving a step back so his hand falls from your shoulder.
“Yes, I’m meant to be kept up to date with all ongoing, violent investigations where and if possible to act as a bridge between law enforcement and victims and families of victims. Especially those with children involved — I should have mentioned we would cross paths again last night, I just wasn’t thinking.”
“Yes, we’ve worked with our fair share of liaisons,” Gideon chuckles, looking over his shoulder at JJ who gives him a small smile.
“Then it’s all set. You boys let me know when you have your profile ready.” Elle watches him walk off with a hard stare, obviously just as rubbed wrong by him as you are.
“Lovely man, isn’t he?” You joke, trying to make the situation lighthearted.
“We’ve interacted before. Our headquarters isn’t actually far from here, just a twenty-minute drive, we’re up in Quantico. He doesn’t get any better with time, though.” Agent Hotchner shakes his head, turning to grab a file off of the desk behind him.
“Well, he always forgets to offer his office space to visitors so I usually keep mine available. It’s quieter and there’s a whiteboard, follow me.”
||||
Since you started renting the small duplex by yourself, you’ve never felt awkward in your own home. Now, though, you feel odd taking up your own space.
The majority of the Quantico team is set up in your front room with laptops, cameras, and microphones.
“We don’t know exactly how long he usually takes to come back to scenes, only that it typically happens within the week,” Elle explains to you apologetically.
“No problem — comes with the job, no?” You say, smiling and trying to brush it off. Elle laughs gently, nose wrinkling as she shakes her head.
“No, not really. I wouldn’t be thrilled if these boys set up shop in my house, you’re taking this with much more grace than I would.”
You shrug, crossing your arms and tilting your head from side to side. “I won’t act like it’s normal, it is pretty weird having you guys here, but if it helps you catch this guy, why would I say no? Better me than some random civilian.” You hesitate, scrunching up your nose, “Better now than waiting for him to kill someone else.”
“Much more compassionate than I am,” Elle jokes, shaking her head and walking away as Gideon calls her name.
The main problem, you think, is that the duplex isn’t very big. The part of the team that’ll be staying with you — Spencer, Gideon, Elle, and Morgan — have all settled in. They won’t come and go, their car is firmly parked in your garage, and they’ll keep a low profile to prevent the unsub from noticing their presence. You’re meant to come and go as normal to keep suspicion low in case he’s cased the entire neighborhood. But, with only two bedrooms, a baths, and a small office, you’re feeling slightly cramped. Whenever you turn, you feel like you’re coming toe-to-toe with someone. It’s awkward, considering you’re very used to living alone.
Still, you’re determined to be a good host, so you set to preparing lunch for everyone. They’d insisted that you didn’t need to, but you really don’t know what else to do. You’d been given the day to help them all settle in and provide assistance wherever possible, but there isn’t much to do other than wait.
You’re pulling out the things for sandwiches when Spencer walks in.
“Hey, do you have an extra ethernet cable? Garcia thinks that a direct line would be better,” he asks.
“Maybe, you’re free to check in the office if you want. If you need, you can always pull the one from my desktop,” you say, shutting the fridge and trying to balance everything in your arms in one trip.
“What’re you doing?” Spencer asks, reaching forward to grab the ham and mayo from the top of your stack.
“Making sandwiches!”
“You really don’t have to. We can have food ordered, it’s okay.”
“I wanna make myself useful, I feel weird just standing around watching you guys work,” you say, dumping the materials on the counter. “I hope you guys like ham or turkey, it’s all I have.”
“You are being useful, though. You’ve let us set up in your home, how much more useful can you be?”
“I could provide food as well,” you say, sending him a smile. “Ham or turkey?”
Spencer looks exasperated, setting the ham and mayo down and shaking his head. Nervously, he uses both of his hands to push his hair back. “Either. Either is fine, thank you.”
You start to prepare the sandwiches, Spencer watching and still looking like he wants to say something.
“Hey, Reid, I found one, we’re all set,” Morgan says, rounding the corner and waving the white chord in the air. “Oh, what’re you making?” He asks, stepping closer and leaning over your shoulder.
“Sandwiches. I was asking Spence if you guys like ham and turkey but he wasn’t being helpful.”
“Well, Spence can be like that,” Morgan says, throwing Spencer a smirk over his shoulder. “But we’d appreciate anything.” “I was trying to tell her,” Spencer interrupts, “that it’s entirely unnecessary for her to make us lunch. She’s already done enough for us letting us set up here. The effort is appreciated, of course, obviously, you just shouldn’t have to. Because we’re already intruding.” He trails off as Morgan sends him a look, raising his eyebrow.
“Well, I, for one, appreciate the offer,” Morgan says, leaning on the counter and smiling down at you. You laugh at him.
“It’s not that I don’t appreciate it! I do,” he says, turning to you and holding one of his hands up in a placating way, “I just don’t think, it’s very kind of course, I just –”
You cut him off, taking pity, “He’s fucking with you. Relax.”
||||
“I just can’t believe that you’re actually processing any of what you’re reading at that speed!” You say, throwing your arms up.
“I actually am. Speed reading, when done right, doesn’t take away from comprehension at all. Plus, with my eidetic memory, I can always think back and process later if I need to,” Spencer explains.
“Fine, you’re understanding what you’re reading in a general sense, but where’s the enjoyment in it? How can you possibly understand all the intricacies of the writing, what the author is doing, and appreciate the characters and their growth if you don’t take your time with it?” “I tend to focus my reading moreso on informational writing, so that’s not often a problem. And when I do read something fictional or with more nuance, I’m never lacking in any way when it comes to my understanding of the content, even when speed reading.”
“So you’re not actually taking the time to have fun reading is what I’m hearing.”
“Reading is inherently fun when you’re learning something, though,” he says, lips quirked in a slight smirk and a line forming between his eyebrows as he looks down at you. The look is so disarming that you find yourself deflating a little.
You’re in your living room, a few books scattered on the coffee table between you two, debating the merits of each one.
“I dunno,” you say, argument leaving you as you become distracted.
“Just say I’m right! You know I am,” Spencer says with a chuckle, shaking his head and leaning toward you slightly, hands spread.
You thought he was cute when he was shy, bumbling in your house yesterday, but after a few hours to warm up to each other, you can’t deny you really like him.
The only thing that completely blocks the disappointment that they’ll all soon be leaving is that their UnSub will be caught when they have to leave. Your community and neighborhood will be better off for it.
“No, I still think you’re wrong. Sure, you understand what you’re reading but I just don’t buy that you could possibly enjoy it in the same way that I am!” You’re trying your damndest to regain your confidence, shaking your head side-to-side with a wide smile to erase the vision of his own smirk, his hands, his rolled up sleeves from your mind. “I mean, nothing beats curling up with a book and taking your time with it.” “Well,” Spencer interrupts, lifting a finger, “how can you say if you’ve never tried my way?”
“Speed reading? I’ve done it, actually.” You shrug at his hesitating look, suddenly feeling vulnerable under the weight of his eyes.
“Really? What method? What was your fastest time? What —” Morgan cuts off his questioning by walking in and calling for him.
“Gideon wants you to take a look at something.” “Ah. Breaks over.” Spencer stands from where he was sitting on your armchair, brushing his hands off on his pants. He points at you while he walks away, “We’re not finished, though!”
“Oh?” Morgan asks when he’s gone, raising his eyebrows at you. “Unfinished business?” You scoff, moving to pick up the books you pulled out to talk to Spencer about.
You like Morgan. He’s an easy one to like and he feels like the bigger brother you don’t have with his easy smiles. The chaos in your house hasn’t been easy, you appreciate his consistent presence to lighten the atmosphere.
You’ve actually come to like all of them. Elle with her stories, Gideon with his dry smiles, and Spencer. Really, you just like Spencer. You’re an adult, you’re not ashamed to admit it. Just, only to yourself, lest you mess something up and make him uncomfortable.
“You know, I can’t really say I haven’t seen him this excited before because the kid gets excited about everything but,” Morgan shrugs, pushing himself off of the wall he’s been leaning on and coming to sit next to you, “you do seem to get along well.”
“Oh, yeah, Spencer’s nice,” you say, standing to put the books away.
“Nice,” Morgan muses, leaning back on the couch and crossing his arms.
“He is! You all are.” You laugh when Morgan raises his eyebrows again. “I’m being serious, I would kill to work on a team like yours. You all actually work together.”
“We have to.”
“It certainly works out better when you do.”
“Yeah, your boss is a real dick. He usually walk all over you like that?” You wrinkle your nose at him as you sit down, pulling your legs under you. “More or less I guess. My personal opinion is that he’d like more men on the team and … no women,” you joke, giving him a what can you do? look, smiling sadly.
“And you tried to transfer?”
“Stop profiling me,” you say, eyes narrowing. Morgan smiles, all teeth.
“Not profiling, just remembering him saying something like that when we talked at the station.”
“Oh,” you say, slouching back. “That’s considerably less impressive.” “Ouch.”
“Yeah, yeah, I wound you. But I did look into transferring a while back. I’ve been trying to move up for a while and keep getting blocked. But, no surprise, I got blocked again.” You raise an imaginary glass, cheers-ing with the air, “Go government!”
“That’s fucked,” Morgan says, letting out a low whistle. “So you don’t want to stay a victims liasion?”
“No, I do. But it’s not my only job right now. It’s a little complicated, but our office is too small to have a head liaison. So I really just run around filling gaps wherever I can until I’m needed to do my actual job. I’d love to do just liaison work, I really like working with the public. Feels like I’m actually helping people, you know?”
“Yeah, I know.” “Hey,” you say suddenly, not wanting to keep the mood somber (or ignore the FBI agent in your house with your silly woes while a murder investigation is underway), “you want some tea? Coffee?”
“Sure doll, I’ll take some coffee,” Morgan says, a confused smile taking over his face, “if you’re offering.”
||||
“It’s actually pretty interesting,” Spencer is saying, flipping through files and leaning over to show Elle something.
“Oh, I bet. Nothing better than vicious murder,” you say, dry, rolling a pen between your fingers.
“I mean the process behind deciphering their reasoning,” Spencer says, shrugging.
“I just don’t know how you look past it to see anything other than the violence,” you say, shuddering.
He and Elle have taken the night shift and are giving you a rundown on profiling. You’ve worked with profilers before, but they’re small-town cops, more interested in closing cases than being scientific, or, at times, even correct.
“How do you look past a crying mother after her daughter has been murdered to get the information you need?” Elle asks. “I’ve worked with hundreds of victims, I think I’m pretty good at it, but your records show that you’re one of the best.”
You heat at the praise, shrugging your shoulders. “I wouldn’t say I look past them. I actually try to get into their shoes to figure out what I can say to get through to them.”
“Often the victims families know more than they think. Every bit of information they can give us or the police about the victim only lead us closer to the unsub. We often rely on your job to get important information out of victims and families that we wouldn’t otherwise have. It requires tact, empathy, and extreme emotional control,” Spencer explains, setting the file down and brushing his hair back.
“Well, thank you?”
“I think he’s trying to say what we do is similar,” Elle explains, “it’s just the opposite side of it.”
“I’m still not following — but I’m definitely not built to be a profiler, that’s for sure.”
“But you could be. You profile in your own way. We look at the bad guys, the killing patterns, stuff like that,” Spencer leans forward, enthusiastic. “You just profile less intense people. Gather information from them, figure out what they need. Get in their shoes, to use your words. You use their actions, small phrases, and what you can gather from their homes to approach them the best way, no?”
“Looking at their clothes and body language and stuff, sure.”
“We do exactly that with crime scenes. Recognize patterns. Just like you can’t imagine seeing past the violence, some of us can’t imaigne having to see past the emotion of someone dealing with fresh loss.” Elle smiles. “You’d probably make a really good profiler. You’re just a better victims advocate.”
You consider that, weighing their words. “Sure, maybe,” you admit. “I still think it’s kinda like magic, though. Your knowledge, your intuition, your teamwork. It’s cool.”
“Thank you,” Elle says kindly.
Spencer jumps back into his explanation of the types of murder-kidnappers, musing with Elle again about their profile. Their ability to constantly return to the same evidence over and over without any hesitation is still amazing to you. Despite what Elle said, you’re sure you’d get bored.
You’re even more sure that it would stick to you in a way that working with the victims never did. You visit crime scenes, sure, but you never do everything in your power to commit every bit of them to memory.
As they talk, you move toward the window and move the curtains over slightly. It’s the middle of the night, the second the team has spent in your home, and you’re curious how much longer this unsub will take to be caught.
You’ve done your best to keep to your usual schedule and luckily it’s not unusual for you to be up late. The movement behind the curtains won’t be suspicious, so you stand and peek out curiously at the home across the street.
Penny sighs from her bed in the living room, snoring softly. She’s taken a liking to your guests who are always willing to give her attention and scraps of food.
The Furgison house bigger than yours, a family home with a large backyard. It’s a faded blue, lightened by the sun, with a white door. Theres a dim porch light that’s been left on, throwing yellow shaddows across the street.
You swear you see a curtain move in the window and your entire body freezes, breath stolen from your lungs.
“Hey guys?” You say, dead quiet, as you see the curtains flutter again. Small, nearly inperceptable movement. Greys and blacks angainst more greys and blacks.
“Yeah?” Elle asks, still reading over the file with Spencer.
“You’re sure that nobodys gone in tonight?”
“Certain,” Elle says, moving quickly to stand next to you. “Why?”
“Curtains moved,” you say, nodding toward the house.
“Maybe the AC was left on?” Elle suggests and you shake your head.
“No, we would’ve noticed it before now. They have no animals, the house should be empty.”
Your heart is racing as Spencer joins you at the window.
“You sure you saw it move?” He asks, moving to stand behind you, just out of sight at the window, a hand pressed to your back. Gentle pressure, just his fingertips, that makes you siffen even more. He moves his hand, whispering an apology.
You wish he hadn’t.
Your mind spins, distracted for a moment, shaking your head again.
“Yes, I’m certain.”
“Go get Morgan and Gideon,” Spencer tells you, sharing a look with Elle.
||||
You follow the team out, despite their insistence that you don’t have to, holding your own handgun out and following the light Morgan casts.
You live in a relatively sleepy neighborhood. Shared duplexes and little houses line the streets, most with little flowerbeds out front. The Furgison house is no exception: it’s a little blue house with rose bushes out front. It backs the small patch of wood that runs along the length of the highway.
Heart racing and head light from adrenaline, you stay out front to watch for any movement inside while Morgan and Hotch creep around one side of the house, Spencer and Elle take the other side.
“Back here,” you faintly hear Morgan say through your earpiece. “The cellar door is open. It was deadlocked last time.”
You sitffen, readjusting your grip on your gun.
“Wasn’t it cleared, though, when we were here last?” Elle asks.
“Yeah, but he could’ve snuck in through the woods — there’s no telling.”
“Didn’t we position police cars on the highway?” Elle again. You can imagine them all standing behind the house, guns drawn. It’s intersting to hear them communicate so efficiently, voices low.
“We’ll worry about it later. Morgan, you take the lead, I’ll take the rear, Elle stay out here.”
For a long few seconds, you hear Morgan, Spencer, and Hotch begin to clear the basement, until you’re jolted out of the repetitive “clear!”s by Hotch yelling, “FBI, put your hands up!”
The next few minutes turn into a whirlwind as police cars arrive and Morgan drags the UnSub out of the house by his handcuffed arms.
The Furgison boy comes out next, disheveled and passed to the paramedics in the back of an ambulance. Once you see Hotch, Spencer, and Elle are okay as well, you jump into action, going to sit with the boy and comfort him. Morgan is there, too, crouched down to talk to the kid.
“You’re all good now,” he’s saying, reaching forward to ruffle his hair. “And my friend here is going to make sure that you see your dad as soon as possible.” Morgan gestures to you and you nod at the little boy.
The sight of him makes your chest ache: he’s scrawny with wide brown eyes and a mop of curls on the top of his head.
“Agent Morgan is right, your dad is going to meet us at the hospital.”
The boy doesn’t say anything, shaking under his emergency blanket.
“I’ll ride with you in the ambulance, too, and that’ll be fun, right?” You ask, jumping up to sit next to him. Slowly and sluggish the boy rests his head on your shoulder, still shivering. You wrap an arm around him before mouthing ‘I’ve got him’ to Morgan. He gives you a small sile, waves at the boy, and goes to join his team.
After being checked over again by the paramedics, the boy falls asleep quickly in the hospital, holding his dads hand. You’re leaving the room, shutting the door with a soft click, when you see Spencer sitting in the hallway.
“How is he?” Spencer asks, standing up at the sight of you.
“He’s okay, some minor bruises and scrapes, dehydrated but on an IV. They’re just happy to be back together.”
“That’s good,” Spencer says, falling quiet and looking away.
“And, hey, you guys caught the bad guy — now you all get to go home!”
“Yeah,” Spencer says, turning to look at you again, chuckling slightly without any heart behind it.
“Are you not excited?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.
“It’s always nice coming back home after a trip, even one as close to home as this one is. But it’s a little bittersweet.”
“How so?”
You practically see Spencer gathering his courage, straightening his shoulders and sending you a small but genuine smile.
“Well, we have some unfinished business, remember? And you never showed me your lexicon.”
“Well,” you say, smiling, “you’ll just have to keep in touch, then. Maybe we can get dinner?”
“Yeah. Yes, of course. Dinner.” Spencer is fully grinning now, eyes squinting with the force of it. You can’t help but mirror him, laughing a little. “Well, I do have a car to catch. I just wanted to check on him and say goodbye.”
“Well, goodbye for now Dr. Reid.”
“Goodbye,” he says, smiling at you for a second longer before turning to walk to the exit. He makes it to the doors before he hesitates, one hand on the handle. He stands there, still, for a moment before turning around and asking, “Dinner, like a date, right?”
Giddy, your smile only widens as you nod. “I would really like that, if you’re asking, yeah.”
“I’m asking.”
“Okay, then it’s a date.”
i wanted more to happen here but then i got this far and still had so much more i could write about these two aahhh
lmk if u want a pt 2 bc i kind of have ideas :) tysm for reading!!
#bubbs.writes#x reader#cm#fluff#criminal minds#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fluff#first meeting fic#derek morgan#aaron hotchner#elle greenaway#criminal minds x reader#bau team#bau#slow burn#strangers to friends#to lovers#hehehe#i rlly enjoyed writing this#sorry for any typos#i did not proof read after minor edits oopsies
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Short: Leon (The Long Suffering)
Arthur: I'm gonna mess with this goofy eared kid.
Leon: *Internally thinking* Why do I feel like Arthur just met his match??
Arthur: He's absolutely terrible, the worst Manservant I've ever seen!
Leon: I'm sure with time he will improve, Sire. It's only been the first week.
Arthur: I've already sacked him, but then changed my mind and re-hired him back.
Leon: Ah... I see... Why?
Arthur:... *Internally thinking* Because I liked the way he looked at me when I won.
Arthur: It was difficult to find good help nowadays.
Leon: Right...
Arthur: Can you believe it, Merlin went and accused himself of being a sorcerer! In front of my father during the council meeting!
Leon: He what?! 😨
Arthur: I know! All because a girl gave him a flower. That idiot. I don't know where his head is at.
Leon: Hold on a second sire, he really said that in front of the King and didn't get executed?? 😧
Arthur: *Waves it off* Yeah, I had to explain that it was cause he had a crush on Gwen. *Mutters to himself* Maybe I should get him some flowers? 🤔
Leon: !? ⁉️❕❔
Arthur: My idiot Manservant got sick and I got him flowers so he'd feel better. 💐
Leon: Arthur, he drank poison for you and you went off to find the antidote. 😑
Arthur: So you think he liked it?
Leon: ... *Takes a deep breath* I'm sure he did Sire.
Arthur: 😁 See! I take care of my servants~
Arthur: *Breaks into Leon's room*
Leon: *Jumps in fright* ⁉️
Arthur: I can't believe him!
Leon: What is it? Is there an attack Sire? Something happened with the King?
Arthur: No! It's that insolent brat Merlin. He came back with some guy, singing him praises and wants me to make him a knight?!😤
Leon: *Thinking* Is this really worth barging into my chambers? 😮💨
Leon: Really, then what did you do? 😑
Arthur: Ha, had the guy cleaning the stables.
Leon: 🤦🏼♂️
Leon: *Watches as Arthur sits with goofy smile and practically hearts in his eyes*
Leon: Sire?
Arthur: Isn't it the loveliest day to go out for a picnic? 🥰
Leon: Yes Sire, it is indeed.
Arthur: *Nods* I had Merlin pack a picnic for me and the lady Sofia. Where gonna go later today.
Leon: *Confused and concerned* But don't you have a meeting with the King today?
Arthur: *Waves it off* It's fine, I have Merlin to cover for me!
Leon: *Thinking* Oh boy...
[LATER]
Merlin: *Coming back from the stocks* I'm gonna kill that cabbagehead! 😠💢
Arthur: *Walks in* Merlin~! 🥰💐🌈
Merlin: 🌩️🔪😠
Leon: *Makes a break for it*
Leon: *Walks by Morgana's room*
Morgana: Please Arthur he just a boy and he's sick! 🥺
Arthur: I'm sorry Morgana, but my father is looking for him and if he were to find out you harboured a druid, you'll not only get into trouble but so would Gwen and Merlin.
Morgana: *Angry* 😠
Merlin: *Steps in* Please Arthur, we can't let the King kill him. 🥺
Arthur: ... *Turns away* I saw nothing, heard nothing. I've got to look for the Druid boy because clearly he isn't here. *Leaves room without noticing Leon*
Morgana: Tsk, of course he'd listen to Merlin.
Gwen: *Giggles*
Merlin: Arthur has a good heart. Of course he'd help. *The face of loyalty and innocence*
Morgana: 😏 He followed his heart alright. I'll remember next time to have you around to convince him for some things.
Merlin: 🤨❔❔ What do you mean?
Leon: *Overhears and follows his princes lead and continues like nothing happened*
Leon: *Witnessed Merlin doing Sorcery, trying to burn the Black Knight and fails*
Leon: ... I saw nothing. Just tired eyes. Yup, nothing here. *Mutters* Not like Arthur would believe it, or even care.
Uther: Where is my son and ward?! 😠
Leon: They've decided on a friendly hunting trip, they'll be gone for several days.
Leon: *Internally* They went after Merlin to his home village to fight bandits alone. And I'm not gonna say anything because
1. You'll blame Merlin and send him away
2. Merlin's a sorcerer who you'll kill if you knew
3. If any of the above happens Arthur might likely kill you and that'll be a worse headache then his pinning.
Uther: Those brats!
Leon: *Thinking* I couldn't agree more.
[LATER]
Arthur: If I ever retire from royalty, I think I'd like to live as a farmer.
Leon: Ah, is that so?
Arthur: Yup. Of course, Merlin would be there to do the work.
Leon: 😓
Arthur: But I'll get him Cows and chickens, maybe even a horse. He has a soft spot for animals.
Arthur: Merlin's mad at me. He started talking politely to me Leon! Politely. As in using my titles instead of insults. Even avoids looking at me in the eyes. 😟
Leon: 😬 Oof, what did you do?
Arthur: He's angry at me after killing the Unicorn. 😟
Leon: ... That would do it.
Arthur: What do I do Leon!
Leon: Try giving him some space for now and maybe flowers, you've said Merlin likes those.
Arthur: Alright!
[LATER]
Arthur: Merlin's not avoiding me anymore. 😊
Leon: Great to hear, what happened?
Arthur: We faced off the sorcerer of the Unicorns and I drank fake poison before Merlin could.
Leon: ... What?! 😱
Arthur: It's fine. Merlin's still mad about that but now he insults me about my intellect being the size of a peanut. ☺️🌈✨
Leon: I'm almost inclined to agree with him Sire.
Leon: *Spots Merlin and follows him to the Isles*
Nimueh: For a life to be saved, another life must be forfeited.
Merlin: He's my friend. I'd gladly give my life for him.
Leon: *Thinking* God these two are cut by the same cloth. I'm gonna go fully grey by 30.
[LATER]
Arthur: 🥰 Merlin said the most weirdest thing. He said he'd serve me for the rest of his life. That he was happy to be with me. ❤️🥰
Leon: *Bore witness to Merlins power and dedication to his loved ones*
Leon: He cares for you Sire. Would hardly leave your side if he didn't need to help Gaius make your cure.
Arthur: ☺️ Don't tell Merlin this, but I think Merlin's my best friend.
Leon: *Internally swears on his honor as a knight to support Merlin however he could and potentially get his prince to be less of an idiot. Hopefully*
Merlin: *Sneezes*
Gaius: You alright my boy?
Merlin: *Sniffs and shurgs* I'm alright.
Gaius: Hmm, some say that when you sneezing abruptly, it's because someone is talking about you at the moment.
Merlin: Ugh, probably Arthur talking about all the chores he has in stored for me. 😮💨
#bbc merlin#merlin#merlin emrys#arthur pendragon#merlin fandom#bbc merthur#arthur x merlin#shorts#leon the long suffering#Leon#short story#short fanfic#arthur loves merlin#prince arthur#Pray for Leon's sanity#He was close to committing treason
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Good Girls in the Dark - Choi Yena
"Hello, I'm Choi Yena, nice to meet you!"
"Omo son why didn't you tell us your girlfriend is so pretty?! Come in come in!" Your mom quickly leads Yena into your home, who's already locking arms with her. "Finally you bring someone back for Chuseok!" she looks back at you and admonishes. You simply shake your head and follow them in.
"You look so young, I thought you were oppa's sister!"
"Oh stop it, you have such a sweet tongue!"
Yena's a good girl.
At least, that was your initial impression when you met her for the first time—it was supposed to be a Yuehua flex, having Yena drop by to say hi, to congratulate everyone on the successful joint project between Yuehua and your company. Mindful and demure, she was considerate of everyone, smiling and greeting all of you like the energetic idol she is.
True to her energy, she insisted you all go to a club for the afterparty, but the group soon diffuses into the crowd—some people left almost immediately, others stayed for a few drinks, and yet more broke off into their cliques. You try to sneak out too, until Yena somehow gets a hold of you, pulling you into a dark corner of the club. She has a drink in hand, but by now it is empty save for a few drops of whatever she had.
"Why do you keep looking at me?" she demands to know.
"What? I haven't!"
"Don't lie, I saw you sneaking looks." You were, but you didn't think Yena would notice, that you would just blend in with your co-workers.
"How would you know?" you fire back.
"Because I've been looking at you too." It must be the alcohol in Yena talking, for she smashes her lips into yours, tongue immediately pushing into your mouth. She does have a sweet tongue. "Can I trust you?"
"You should have asked me that before you kissed me."
"Oops, oh well. Now answer the question."
"Yes."
"Good, I don't want to go home tonight," she breathes into your ear.
Yena's a good girl in the dark.
"So how did you two meet?" your dad asks during dinner.
"At work! I was at an event for our company, and he was there! He was very nice to me."
"That's all it took? My son is good!"
"Dad don't," you mutter, shaking your head and leaving the table carrying your dishes. At least Yena didn't say it started with a hookup, or your parents would have had an aneurysm. The one night stands became more frequent, and your apartment became a place for stress relief for Yena.
Over time the two of you ended up spending equal amounts of time talking and fucking, and both of you finally gathered the courage to give in to your feelings and agree to start dating—to be fair, neither of you were seeing anyone else anyways, so exclusivity wasn't a discussion that needed to be had. Ironically the dating aspect wasn't really a thing either—Yena was an idol, so any dates you two had were just at your place.
"What? Our son is so charming, he found a celebrity girlfriend! And she eats so much too, I thought you would be dieting or something, I was afraid I made too much!" you hear your mum say.
"No no, that's just a stereotype, I eat more than he does!"
"That's great, you eat so well!"
Yena's a good girl.
~~
"Fuck, you eat me so well," you moan as Yena slurps you, tongue running up the underside of your shaft. It's early in the morning, the sunlight just peeking through the curtains. You can barely make out the shape of Yena in your sleepy haze, but you can definitely identify her by her tongue and hands.
"Because your cum is so delicious!" she says as she strokes you, eager for her morning cum-ffee. "I can see some of it already!" She licks your tip, swiping up the dripping precum. Yena's hungry for more, and she goes deep on your cock, taking all of it in easily. The loud sloppy noises she makes are the lewdest alarm sounds you've ever heard, and your favorite by far.
"Oh fuck, Yena, I'm gonna cum!" There is no holding back your orgasm, and your hand finds itself in her hair, pushing her down like she was an alarm clock. You thrust up involuntarily, and Yena hums as you hit the roof of her mouth, feeling you surrender in the form of a thick morning load sliding down her throat. Yena's eyeing you as you come down from your peak, making sure you're fully drained before she let's you go with a pop.
"Thanks, I gotta go now."
"Wait, I need something for the morning too no?" You wiggle your eyebrows and Yena laughs.
"I suppose I can spare a few minutes," she sighs theatrically and slides up your body. You expect her to remove her pants and underwear, but she's already naked from the waist down.
"Tch, you were expecting it weren't you?"
"I knew you would repay the favor." She pushes herself onto your face.
Yena's a good girl in the dark.
~~
"Auntie, do you need help with the dishes?"
"Oh no no no you're the guest, you can't be helping with the dishes!"
"I don't mind, besides it makes the dishes go by faster!"
"You see son, why can't you be more like Yena?"
"I live by myself, I do the dishes back home already!"
"I don't care, come help us with the dishes or else!" your mom threatens.
"Fine."
"God it's like I have to beg you to do the dishes, at least Yena's so polite and well-mannered, offering to help!"
Yena's a good girl.
~~
"Please sir."
"What do you want me to do Yena?" you ask the naked idol bent over your lap.
"Spank me."
"What's the magic word?"
"Please spank me." You reward her with a hearty slap across her ass, watching it jiggle and turn red. Yena yelps before thanking you.
"Good." You rub her cheek to soothe her before slipping your hand between her legs—she's dripping. Carelessly you run a finger along her pussy, letting her wetness coat it before wiping it on her. Yena squirms, and you wrap an arm around her midriff, holding her flush against your body, trapping her. Yena takes a deep breath and relaxes, going limp briefly.
"T-Thank you." It made her feel taken care of—she can let her mind go blank, let the pleasure take over, leave everything to you. But you tease her, rubbing her slit as you stroke her head, petting her like you pet a cat, or a duck perhaps. All while she can feel your erection poking her from below. Yena's little gasps and moans get louder and more frequent, breathing heavily over your lap as you continue.
"Please put it in." You push two fingers in, and Yena clenches immediately around them. You push Yena forward on your lap, bending her over one thigh to give you better access to her pussy. Yena's almost folded in half over your leg, blood rushing to her head as she watches her own toes curl uncontrollably due to your fingering. You dig deep, bending and twisting your fingers, as if trying to find the last cookie crumb deep inside Yena's jar. You do find what you're looking for, and Yena's the cookie that crumbles.
"R-Right there!" Beneath you Yena's face is red, both from pleasure, and from the little droplets she sees appearing between her legs. "Wait oppa, I'm going to make a mess—"
"Oppa?"
"I mean, ah! Sir, sorry sir, wait, stop!" You dig a little harder, a little faster, and it becomes a stream of liquid pleasure, leaking down her leg and dripping off Yena's toes.
"Manners Yena."
"Puhlea—" Before she can get the second syllable fully out you press her sensitive clit with your thumb and Yena chokes out a desperate cry, drenching your hand in her slick as she cums hard. Yena claws at your leg, gripping it tightly while she splashes over you. You help Yena right herself, but her legs are weak, and she sits in a puddle of her own juices as she lays her head on your thigh, breathing shallow and labored. You lay a hand on her cheek, and she turns to kiss it, as if soothing herself on you. When she opens her eyes again she looks up at you, before looking to the tent you're pitching in your pants.
"I want you," she whispers, managing to push herself up and pull your shorts off. Her hands go to your boxers, but you stop her.
"Are you forgetting something?"
"Please." Yena says it like an afterthought, removing your boxers and getting in your lap—her slick covered legs are spreading it everywhere on your couch. She tries to sink herself on to you, but you shift your hips, making her miss. "Come on!"
"Say it like you mean it."
"Please, I need you in me." She grabs your cock, her hands wrapping around your length. "I need something thick in me, my pussy needs something to... grip!" She twists her hands, squeezing you tightly. You let her position you at her entrance, and your cock twitches a little as a few more drops of slick land on your shaft.
"Please give me your cock," Yena whispers before kissing you needily.
You slam her down on you.
"Oh fuck!"
Yena's a good girl in the dark.
~~
"Yena do you drink? Are you allowed to?"
"Oh yes of course we are allowed to, I'll have whatever oppa has."
"Okay I'll go get the beer."
"No dear, get the ginseng wine."
"Should I?" Your dad nods emphatically.
"We're all becoming one family here, we can break out the good stuff and celebrate!" You know exactly where this is going as your mum brings the wine.
"Dad no don't do that!" You grab Yena's hand in apology. "Sorry."
"No no, I'm sure Yena doesn't mind! All we're saying, your mum and I, is that we would approve of whatever you two want to do in the future. Get married, have kids, you know, whatever you want!"
"It's okay uncle, I understand, thank you for being so nice to me and making me feel so welcome! We haven't really talked about our future, but it's good to know we have your support!"
"Good, see, that's a sensible young woman! Cheers!"
Yena's a good girl.
The operative word there is "really", because you two have certainly talked about your future together.
In bed.
In the heat of the moment.
While you're deep in Yena.
~~
"How many kids should I put in you, how many do you want!" you grunt as you thrust down into her, feeling her clench around you in response. Yena's legs push uselessly against your arms, your elbows locking her knees down in a mating press.
"As many as you want, fuck! That's so deep!" Her arms have a stranglehold around your neck, keeping you close, her flexibility allowing you to kiss her even as you fuck her in the uncompromising position. Yena's tits jiggle as you pound into her, a lewd visual of just how hard you're thrusting.
"B-Breed me, breed me harder!" It was a kink that Yena let slip once, and since then you've indulged her, joining her in enjoying the thought, relishing the feel of fucking Yena raw each and every time.
"Fuck I'm going to cum, you better keep count!" you shout as you slam down into her with finality, letting loose multiple shots into her. Yena seems to go over the edge with you, clenching around your pulsing cock, lips mumbling incoherently. You collapse on top of her, burying yourself against her neck, kissing her lovingly and cuddling her. It is a little later before either of you are able to speak.
"Five, I counted five shots earlier," she murmurs into your ear, tickling you.
"That many?"
"Mmhmm, I must have drained a lot out of you, hm? Poor oppa." Yena jokes, pinching your cheek. But she pushes you on your back and gets on top of you. The sight of your load leaking out of her is enough to get you to half-mast, and her words get you the rest of the way there.
"Let me do the rest of the work. We have to contribute equally to get me knocked up." She slides her cream-filled warmth over you.
Yena's a good girl in the dark.
~~
"I'm done showering!" Yena announces to you as she joins you in the guest bedroom.
"Great, let's get some rest, it's been a long day." You pull the covers over the two of you and hold Yena close. "Thanks for coming here with me."
"Of course, your parents are so nice!"
"They got a little too excited about meeting you, sorry."
"No no it's okay, I like it, they're fans of me, because of you!"
"I guess." You kiss the top of her head, ready to sleep. Yena is not though, and she slips her hand under your t-shirt.
"Haven't I been a good girl today? Shouldn't you reward me?"
"Yena..." you start.
"I didn't tell them we started dating after multiple hookups together. I didn't tell them we do it raw all the time. I didn't—"
"You really want to have sex here, tonight?" Yena nods and throws a leg around you, and to your surprise she's already very wet.
"Just the thought, you know? Being part of your family, us being a family, starting a family. And I heard ginseng wine is good for you too, get the blood flowing." You know exactly why Yena's so wet now. "I-I even brought towels from the bathroom. I'm going to make such a mess." She says it like sex is a foregone conclusion.
"You're going to have be really quiet, I know how loud you get when you want me to breed you."
"That's what the other towel is for." She scrunches the towel up and bites down on it, looking at you pleadingly.
Yena's a good girl, but Yena's your good girl in the dark.
A/N: Just something quick and dirty, the whole "Good Girls in the Dark" song from her just gave me the idea lol. Right before her next comeback heh, maybe there's another "dirty" title there hopefully, or I'll just make it dirty as usual. Thanks for reading!
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Stitched Together
Fandom: Marvel (Mob Boss AU)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Summary: You and Bucky used to be so in love and so... ignorant of the roles you had to play, which lead to you breaking up. But that didn't seem to keep you away from each other since you now act as Bucky's nurse whenever he gets hurt.
A/N: Based off my mini fic here.
Bucky Barnes Masterlist
You were used to it by now. In the morning, you'd go into work at the hospital. The pediatrics unit was filled with light and color. You made sure to bring as much joy and light into the lives of the children you helped every day. Then when you came home, you'd do work for the darker side of life.
Bucky Barnes was born for this life. Being the first born son of George Barnes, the position of head of the Barnes Family was immediately his.
But growing up he didn't act like that life was for him. You would know since you two knew each other since you were thirteen. You grew up in the same neighborhood. It wasn't until you turned sixteen that you started dating. You knew who his father was, your own dad knew who his family was. As a detective, he told you time and time again that you needed to stay away from him. Being a hormonal and rebellious teenager, you never listened. You should've.
At eighteen years old was when Bucky killed for the first time. Because he was now a man, his father put him up in a cage fight with another man. It was kill or be killed.
He wasn't the same after. He began to push you away, keep things from you, act like a complete asshole.
Then enough was enough. You broke up with him and even though he hurt you, you never told your father the things Bucky told you. Especially after your father became the chief of police.
You two were ignorant with the roles you had to play in your youth, but reality hit you right when you became adults. You became the dutiful daughter of the chief of police, went to university to become a nurse. You stopped keeping track of Bucky's life, but would hear updates along the grapevine every once in a while.
You were there when George Barnes passed. Well, not necessarily in the room, but you were at the hospital when he passed. You were coming up from your break when you saw Bucky at the elevators. He looked upset.
"Bucky?"
He turned at the sound of his name, "Sw-Y/N. Hey."
"Is everything okay?"
"Uh, my dad. He-He had a heart attack. I'm-He-" you could see how distressed he was, so you pulled him in for a hug.
"Whatever happens, you'll be okay," you whispered in his ear.
He fell limp in your arms. You didn't know it then, but Bucky missed you like crazy and being in your arms again that night saved him from spiraling.
It's later that night that George Barnes dies. After everything he's done and been through, a heart attack was what killed him.
Karma, is what your dad said.
Despite the position George Barnes held, he was well-loved around the city due to him caring for the community. The streets were filled during the procession, your dad and his men keeping an eye out in case anything happened. You were also there for the funeral. You caught glimpse of Bucky and you couldn't breathe for a moment. He was clearly tired and you couldn't blame him, considering how things have been going for him lately.
Despite your father warning you to not make contact with him, you felt like you should.
"I'm sorry, again for your loss, Buck."
He gives you a tired smile, "Thank you again for showing up, Y/N. I-I know your dad probably didn't want you to come."
"He doesn't control every aspect of my life."
"Still. I really appreciate you being here."
"Of course. It's always hard when you lose someone you love." You would know since you lost your mother when you were young.
"Bucky," Sam, Bucky's right hand, calls his name and urges him to follow him.
"I gotta-"
"It's okay. Hope things aren't too stressful for you."
"Thank you. I'll see you around," he says as he departs. You didn't know just how soon you'd end up seeing him.
Three days later, to be exact.
It was late at night when there was a knock at your door. You hold your knife close as you peer through the peep hole of your door. Your eyes widen when you immediately pull the door open.
"Holy shit!" you whisper loudly as Sam drags a bleeding Bucky into your home.
"He didn't want to go to the hospital since we don't know whose people might be working there. So he told me to bring him here."
You guide Sam to your couch where Bucky slumps onto it, "Sorry, Y/N. I didn't know who else to trust right now." You turn on all the nights in your apartment and get a look at him. There's a stab wound in his shoulder. It looks like the bleeding slowed though.
You help Bucky out of his jacket and shirt. You apologize profusely for the pain he's going through.
He dryly chuckles, "You know, when I dreamt about you stripping me, I didn't think it'd be in this context."
You pause and look at him, "You dream about me?"
"You haunt my mind, Y/N." He must be delusional due to the blood loss. Before his father's passing, you hadn't seen nor spoke to him in years. There's no way he'd still be thinking about you after all this time, right?
"I'll be back. I need to grab my first aid kit." You rush to your bathroom and grab the small duffle of all your first aid necessities.
You also grab a bottle of vodka and hand it to Bucky, "Drink up, buttercup."
He frowns and looks at the bottle, "Thought you hated vodka."
"It's not my bottle. America left it from a party I held here," you mumble as you pull on some gloves and begin to clean around his wound. You work in silence as Bucky takes swigs from the bottle. Sam watches from the corner of the room, staying out of your way.
While you work, Bucky takes in your apartment. He takes in the pictures, the decor, the trinkets you have around. This is exactly how he'd imagine your place to be.
"Hey, still with me?" you ask as you begin to thread your needle.
"Yup."
"Okay. This might hurt-"
"Probably not as much as getting stabbed."
You can't help but snort a laugh as you get ready to start stitching Bucky's wound. He grins at the sound of your laughter and you see the sliver the Bucky you once knew.
For the most part, Bucky didn't make much of a sound while you worked. He just kept his eyes on you, taking in every furrowed brow, every twitch of your lip. After all these years, you are still just as beautiful as before.
His heart lurches at what's become of you two. You're practically strangers again after spending so many years apart. His own doing really.
Scared of what could happen to you as he fell deeper into the family business. That's why he behaved the way that he did all those years ago. He was protecting you.
Because after all this time, Bucky Barnes still loves you.
"Alright. We're done. How are you feeling?"
"Sleepy," he mumbles as he tries to sit up, but you keep him down.
"Then sleep. You and your bodyguard can stay here for the night."
The man in the corner snorts, "My name's Sam and I am not his bodyguard."
"Sorry, Sam, you and Bucky are free to sleep here for the night." Sam simply nods.
"You don't have to do this. If your dad finds out-"
"He won't. I won't tell him. And you're hurt, Bucky. Doesn't matter what you do or who you are, I can't, in good conscience, let you leave without knowing you'll be okay after this. Just-Just take this as me wanting to observe my patient for the night."
He settles further onto your couch with defeat, "Alright...you know you should've been a doctor."
"Didn't have the time or money to get my doctorate."
"I can help with the money-"
You shake your head, "It's fine, Buck. I'm happy with my job."
"Just..if you need anything, I'm here to help. That's what my dad for the people of this city and that's what I want to continue to do."
"I know. Thanks."
You stand, collecting your things, "I have some spare blankets, pillows, and toiletries. Lemme grab them."
"Okay," he says and watches as you walk to your bedroom.
Sam moves closer, "So that's her."
"Yeah."
"She's nice."
"Yup."
"And beautiful."
Bucky whips his head to Sam, glaring at him, "Watch it."
Sam holds his hands up, "I can appreciate a beautiful face, man. Besides, she's not yours anymore."
"You know how I feel about her."
"Yeah, yeah, I hear you." Sam says as he plops onto your sofa chair.
You come back with pillows and blankets in arms, "The couch is a pull out, soooo you two will have to share."
"Absolutely not."
"I'm sleeping on the floor."
You snicker, "Okaaay, uh, I have a couch in my room that one of you can take too."
Sam and Bucky look at each other and Sam immediately goes, "I call this bed!" he points to the couch that Bucky's laying on.
Bucky rolls his eyes and you chuckle, "Actually, I think I'd rather have you near me, Bucky, just in case you pull a stitch or start feeling pain again."
"If you're okay with that," he says with a shrug.
"It'll be fine," you respond as you help him sit up and then help him to his feet. He follows you to your bedroom where you show him the couch. You point to the adjoining bathroom, you can take a shower there. I already set out stuff for you and Sam."
"Thanks, Y/N. I really do appreciate it."
"Just doing my civic duty, Buck," you say with a small smile.
He clears his throat, "Yeah. Right. Of course."
"Oh!" you grab a pile of clothes and hold them out, "Here. They're my dad's for some of the nights he stays over."
Bucky can't help but snicker, "If your dad knew-"
"I know," you say with a playful roll of his eyes, "But he's not here and he won't ever know I'm helping you. So go, shower, be careful around your stiches. Call me if you need anything," you turn to set up Bucky's sleeping arrangement, but he grabs you by the wrist.
"Y/N?"
"Yeah?" you ask when you face him again.
He looks at you with soft blue eyes as he murmurs, "Thank you."
"You're welcome," you lean in and press a kiss to his cheek, "Go. Wash all that blood off you."
"Alright," he says and grabs the clothes, going into your bathroom. When the door shuts, you fall onto your bed to give yourself a moment.
A few days ago, you went years without seeing or hearing from Bucky. Now you've seen him twice in less than a week and it's throwing your mind in for a loop.
Hopefully, this will only be a one time thing and you two can go back to being strangers again.
#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky imagine#bucky barnes imagine#mob boss au#mafia au#marvel imagine
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hi, babes! i saw that you’re open to some AYW blurbs so i wanted to shoot my shot 🥹 i am YEARNING for jealous!eddie sooooo bad so could we pretty please with cherries on top have a lil blurb about him where a different dad hits on the reader while they’re picking up the boys from school or maybe while they’re doing some kind of errands like grocery shopping or something? it could be from when they’re already dating or from when they’re just pining over each other, it’s up to you! i just want possessive!eddie to come back lmaooo thank you in advance if you choose to do this! i love youuu and the entire AYW universe ❤️
Jealous!Eddie? Possessive!Eddie? Oh, you're definitely speaking my language. As much as I love Eddie being possessive after he and Reader get together, there's something about Eddie being a total jealousy monster while they're still just pining for one another that butters my biscuit.
Words: 2.9k
Warnings: age gap, Eddie is technically married to someone else but if you know this series you know what that's all about
[As You Wish masterlist]
The stoplight turns green, and you put pressure on the gas pedal of your gold Elantra. The car rumbles down the road as you bop your head and sing along to the radio. Everybody (Backstreet’s Back) by The Backstreet Boys is a great song, you don’t care what boy band haters say.
It’s part of the usual routine for you to be early when arriving at Hawkins Elementary School to pick up Ryan and Luke, but since your literature class let out twenty minutes before it was supposed to, you’re extra early. You turn your car into the school’s parking lot and find a visitor spot that will allow you to easily swing into the pick-up line when the time comes.
Car in park, you turn the volume on the radio up and tuck one leg underneath you. You’re so engrossed in the music that you have to do a double take when you see an attractive man walk past a few cars, headed toward the school.
It’s Eddie. Something is in his hand but he’s moving so briskly that it’s hard to tell what it is. Lead fills your stomach. Why is he here? What happened? Did something happen with the boys? Are they okay?
You yank the key out of the ignition mid-song and throw open the driver’s side door.
“Hey, Eddie!” you call as you jog to catch up with him—his long legs striding further in one step than either of his sons can go in three.
Eddie turns his head as he reaches for the handle of the door. He’s just reached the entrance, and he stops with his hand on top of the silver bar. You could almost swear his tense face eases into a smile when he sees you coming up behind him. But perhaps that’s just wishful thinking. Of course it is. What else would it be?
“What’s going on?” you ask. “Is everything okay?”
He sighs and pulls open the front door of the school, gesturing for you to step inside first. You do, and he follows in behind you. He lifts his other hand which is holding a pair of small pants.
“The school called me at work and said Luke spilled glue all over his pants, so I grabbed a pair from home for him to change into,” he explains. “I tried calling you when I got to the house, but I guess you were already on your way.”
It should probably surprise you more than it does that Luke got into such a sticky situation, but you’ve known him for long enough that this just seems par for the course.
“Oh, Luke,” you sigh as you and Eddie stride side by side down the hallway.
“He keeps life interesting,” Eddie says. He checks his watch and sees there’s less than half an hour left in the school day. He gestures toward a classroom door covered in student’s artwork. “Might as well grab Ryan from his class since it’s right here.”
You wait out in the hall as Eddie slips inside to get his oldest son.
“He did what?” you hear Ryan asking as Eddie opens the door on his way out. The little boy looks as if he’s going to say something else, but he sees you standing in the hall and immediately steps forward and wraps his arms around your waist. “Hi!”
“Hey, Ry.” You chuckle at his eagerness and ruffle his honey brown hair. “How was school?”
“Pretty good,” he says as he takes your hand. Both Munsons head down the hall, you tagging along since you don’t know the right direction to go in. “I played kickball in gym. I ran the bases so fast!”
“Nice!” You hold your free hand up for a high five, which he gladly returns.
Eddie stops in front of another classroom door and nods towards it.
“Okay, I’ll be right back.”
He slips inside and Ryan swings your joined hands between the two of you for a few moments until the door opens again and Luke waddles out in a bow-legged stance, feet slowly shuffling him along.
“What did you do?” Ryan asks with a sigh. It’s in the same exasperated tone that Luke brings out of a lot of people.
“Nothing!” his little brother defends. “The bottle was clogged so I took the lid off. Then it slipped out of my hands!”
Eddie lets out a silent chuckle as he closes the classroom door behind them.
“I think they’re stuck to me!” Luke says.
“Okay,” Eddie says, gently taking Luke by the shoulders and leading him towards a bathroom a few doors down. “I can help get them off.”
“Can Ryan?” Luke asks, reaching for the door handle.
“Ry?” Eddie looks at his oldest son.
“Yeah, let me help.”
Ryan holds the door open and Luke crab walks his way into the single bathroom. The door clicks closed behind them and Eddie gives you an amused look. You can’t help but giggle as the two of you wait out in the hall.
Sounds of movement come from the other side of the door, along with the murmur of Luke’s voice as he speaks to his brother. A few minutes pass before the door opens a crack and Ryan sticks his head out.
“Daddy?” he asks. “Can you get a Band-Aid from the classroom?”
“He’s bleeding?” Eddie asks, slight alarm creeping into his voice.
Ryan sighs. “Glue pulled off a scab on his knee.”
“Alright, I’ll be right back,” Eddie says. He looks at you as Ryan pulls his head back inside, and you nod, letting Eddie know you’ll be here with the boys.
Parents begin to trickle into the hallway. It’s the kindergarten wing so it’s not unusual for guardians to be waiting right outside the classroom to pick up their kids. Luke was more capable than that, he assured when he said that he could walk to the pick-up lane outside all on his own—or sometimes with Ryan.
“Everything okay?” a voice asks from behind you.
“Oh!” You’re slightly startled as you spin around to see a man standing near you.
A smile quirks up on one side of his mouth when he sees he surprised you. His smile is nice, you notice. In fact, all of his face is nice. He’s around Eddie’s age and height, with short black hair and piercing green eyes. Very attractive.
“Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“No, no, it’s okay,” you say with a wave of your hand. “Um, yeah, everything is okay. Just a glue incident.”
“Been there,” the man says with a gruff laugh. “Nail polish remover.”
“I’m sorry?” you ask.
“Nail polish remover will get the glue off of clothes,” he clarifies. “Just in case you or your husband didn’t know that.”
His words fluster you. Had he seen Eddie and just assumed he was your husband? Or was he just assuming in general? Either way, it takes a moment for you to compose yourself.
Part of you doesn’t want to correct him. But it’s possible the boys can hear this conversation through the wood of the door. Also, what if the man says something similar after Eddie comes back? Eddie would obviously refute, and you’d be mortified all the way around.
“Oh, uh, he’s um, he’s not my husband. He’s their dad. I’m the babysitter.”
“Ah, my mistake. Sorry.” He doesn’t look the least bit sorry though. “I should’ve guessed. You’re far too young to be their mom.”
He must’ve seen Eddie and at least Ryan, then.
Again, you’re flustered. He’s clearly flirting with you, so why does part of you want Eddie to hurry up and come back? This man is handsome and charming and neither of you are doing anything wrong by having this conversation with one another. There’s not a ring on his finger either, you notice.
You still haven’t responded though.
“You have a beautiful smile,” he says.
You hadn’t even realized you were smiling.
“Thank you,” you say, your smile turning shy.
The man takes a step closer to you and tilts his head to the side.
“Do you come by here every day? Or is it just my lucky day?”
Behind you, Eddie comes back with a Band-Aid in his hand. He hears the man’s question and immediately his hackles go up. His back straightens and his jaw sets as he purposely squeaks one of his black boots against the tile floor.
The sound has the intended effect, and you spin around in his direction. Why do you feel as though you’ve been caught doing something wrong? An image of Brittany’s beautiful, cold face flashes in your mind and the trace of guilt disappears.
“You got it?” you ask Eddie.
“Yep,” he states curtly.
He brandished the Band-Aid, realizing he had crumpled it in his fist in his irritation. He knocks on the bathroom door. “It’s me. Here’s the Band-Aid.”
Ryan opens it a crack and sticks his hand out. Eddie lays it in his palm as you hear a footstep right behind you.
Spinning back, you see that the handsome man is closer to you now. Eddie is not happy. But neither you nor the man notice.
“I feel like I would’ve noticed you here before,” the man says to you.
“I’m usually in the carpool,” you explain.
“See, I knew I would have recognized you,” he says with a bright smile. “You’re very pretty.”
Your face immediately fills with heat. So does Eddie’s, but for another reason entirely.
“Thank you,” you say.
A fist banging on the door behind you startles you, and you spin around to see Eddie pounding on the wood.
“How’s it going?” Eddie asks loudly.
“Good!” Luke calls back. “I’m almost all the way unstuck!”
Eddie takes a breath and turns towards you.
“Sweetheart, you don’t have to stay here through this.”
Though he didn’t consciously intend it, there’s possessiveness in the pet name. It’s not uncommon for him to call you “sweetheart,” but this time there’s a harshness in his tone that whispers he’s staking his claim on you.
This may be the only time Eddie has ever wanted you to go away from him. And it’s not because of him, but because of the flirtatious father that is not him. The father who can’t leave with you because he’s still waiting for his kid.
“Oh no, I’m fine,” you assure Eddie. “I can take the boys back home and you can go back to work.”
Eddie waves a hand dismissively.
“Nah, I already took the rest of the day off.”
The stranger behind you opens his mouth to speak, so Eddie makes sure to beat him to it.
“What do you say we go get some food once Situation Sticky Pants is solved?” Eddie asks. “The gremlins are always hungry.”
“If I had a nickel for every time Luke climbed into my car and immediately brought up food, I’d be able to buy this school,” you say with a fond smile.
Eddie’s responding chuckle makes your heart leap into your throat. You’re so ensnared by the man you’re so infatuated with that you almost miss his eldest son calling your name through the bathroom door.
Quickly, you shake it off and press your ear up against the smooth wood.
“Yeah, Ry?”
While your focus is on the boy talking to you from inside the bathroom, Eddie looks at the man behind you, steel in his deep brown eyes. The man doesn’t react or respond one way or the other. It irritates Eddie even further.
“What was the name of that movie we watched yesterday?” Ryan asks you.
“Flubber?”
“That’s it!” you hear Luke say.
“Okay, thank you!” Ryan adds.
You pull away from the door with a soft chuckle.
“I really hope whatever conversation they’re having about that movie has nothing to do with getting Luke’s pants unstuck,” Eddie says.
You lean back against the cool, white brick wall next to the bathroom door and the man sidles up closer to you. Eddie doesn’t have the chance to intervene before he speaks this time.
“I know it’s a shot in the dark,” the man says to you, “but would you want to get dinner sometime?”
You’re stunned speechless. Sure, he had been flirting with you, but you assumed that’s all it was. Just some innocent, fun flirting. A date could also be some innocent fun, you tell yourself. And this man has been nothing but kind and respectful towards you. But…it doesn’t feel right. It’s hard to parse out if it feels wrong accepting another man’s advances in front of Eddie because of how you feel for your boss, or you just don’t want to go out with the guy, as nice as he seems. Just because he’s nice doesn’t mean you owe him anything. Regardless, you feel a sense of relief when you decide to decline his offer.
What you don’t know is that Eddie is ready to combust behind you. Waiting for you to answer the question is pure agony for him. He’s pretty sure he’ll burst into flames if you keep him in suspense any longer.
“Oh, that’s very sweet of you,” you say.
Eddie’s heart seizes in his chest. He leans his shoulder against the wall, hoping it will help keep him propped up.
“But…” you continue, and Eddie’s heart starts beating again, even if it’s at an erratic rhythm.
“I actually have a boyfriend though,” you finish.
Eddie feels sick. He half thinks he’ll have to barge in on the boys in the bathroom and empty his stomach into the toilet.
The man gives you a sad smile and nods his head.
“He’s a lucky guy.”
You offer him a small smile just as the bathroom door bangs open and the boys step out—Luke clad in his glue-free jeans.
“How we doing?” you ask them.
“Good!” Luke grins and gives you two thumbs up. His previous pair of jeans are slung over his shoulder. Eddie slips them off and rolls them up into a ball.
“We ready to go?” Eddie asks.
Luke nods his head enthusiastically and slips his smaller hand into yours. He begins to pull you in the direction of the school’s exit. You turn your head as you’re pulled away and give the man a small smile.
“Have a nice day,” you wish him.
“You as well,” he replies.
Once your gang makes it into the parking lot, the boys start bickering about whose car they want to ride in. They come up with Rock, Paper, Scissors as a way to decide.
While they play that, Eddie turns to you.
“Boyfriend, huh?” he asks. It takes a Herculean amount of effort to keep bitterness from coating those words.
Eddie knows he has no right to ask you about this and it’s completely inappropriate. Yet, he can’t stop himself from asking.
“Hmm?” you question. As soon as his question registers in your brain, adrenaline pumps through your body, eager to let Eddie know that you’re very available—even if it doesn’t make a difference one way or the other. “Oh! No, no, I don’t have a boyfriend. My best friend taught me to use that excuse when I don’t want to accept. It’s a no, but the guy won’t get all bent out of shape or start harassing me because it doesn’t really hurt his pride.”
“Wow,” Eddie says, blowing out a breath. He’s immensely relieved that you’re single, but also annoyed that you’ve had to employ this trick for your safety. ‘I am so sorry that you have to do that. A ‘no’ should be enough.”
“Should be.” You agree with a shrug. “But it’s better to be safe than sorry.”
“Scissors!” Luke exclaims before he turns in your direction. “We’re riding with you!”
“Want to meet at the diner on Essex?” Eddie asks.
“Sure!”
Eddie ushers the boys into the back of your car and makes sure they’re buckled in before walking across the parking lot to his own truck. As he slips into the driver’s seat and turns the key in the ignition, Eddie replays the last fifteen minutes in his head.
“She said no to that guy,” Eddie muses out loud to himself as he navigates through the traffic that’s collected in front of the school. “She said no to that guy because she has a boyfriend. But she doesn’t have a boyfriend.”
A large sigh of relief spills from his lips. The mere thought of you having a boyfriend created a multitude of knots in Eddie’s stomach. He can’t even bear to think about how much of a hypocrite it all makes him.
“But…” Eddie continues to himself, a new sickening thought taking root. “Oh, fuck. What if she didn’t want to date that douche because he’s older than her. My fucking age.”
The thought disheartens him even more than the idea of you having a boyfriend does. He reaches up and rubs his calloused hands over his face as he rolls up to a red light.
“Jesus Christ, Munson,” he groans. “You’re sitting here, talking to yourself about whether or not she has a boyfriend, or if there’s a possibility she could be into someone older. You’re fucking married, douchebag. It shouldn’t matter one way or the other if she's with someone or not. Or who she might want to date or not.”
The light turns green, and Eddie lets his foot rest heavy against the gas.
Maybe none of this should matter to Eddie. But it sure as hell does.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#older!eddie#eddie munson fan fic#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#eddie munson imagine#AYW#AYWS#request
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can i get one ticket for here for the boos!! starring luke castellan with a pretzel! and maybe a lil spice on that pretzel :O also, i love your fics so much i always re-read them because of how good they are <333
devil inside
[STARRING: LUKE CASTELLAN x reader ; “Don’t. Move.”] wc: 1k warnings: written with aphrodite reader in mind, but not officially stated; anon asked for lil spice so this came out veeeerrryyy suggestive? MDNI for non-descriptive fondling/fingering. yandere!luke. i say the word cum once—do what y’all will with that. implied minor character death, mentions of blood, alcohol, manipulation; title from inxs song, i’m tryna keep the titles spooky hehe. oh and i hit 2k followers while writing this last night! thank you thank youuu
monster mash-terlist
꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷
Luke Castellan has always been your protector and best friend.
A two-in-one deal that you couldn’t help but thank the gods for every time you throw your offerings into the hearth at mealtimes. He always has your best interest in mind, is always devoted to taking care of you, and puts you first over anyone—so who else would you depend on to walk you home from a beach party?
Bad things happen around here at Camp Half-Blood, especially after dark, if we’re being honest. It would only be sufficient to have camp’s best hero be your escort back to your cabin. You’re giggling like a fool as Luke half-carries you through the dirt pathway toward home, purple slippers tucked in his back pocket and his thumb grazing the sliver of skin that peeks out above your daisy dukes.
It would be wrong of him to leave you like this. Truly, what type of best friend would he be if he did? He knows you have admirers—you’re beautiful, for one. And it’s in your nature to be desired by all, though he supposes even without your blood being mixed with ichor that everyone would still look at you the way they do. And it angers him more than it should, a slow bubbling in his stomach that boils through to the surface whenever anyone leers at you or ogles your form as something they hope to have, or worse—conquer. Vincent from Cabin 4 was bold enough to try, growing flowers at will and weaving them into your hair, touching you and decorating you—making it known to the others that he got close enough to something sacred. By the time Luke got to the party tonight, the son of Demeter had a smile that would make anyone think he’d won the lotto.
Well, Vincent won’t make that mistake again. Luke made sure of it.
Tonight alone was evidence enough that no one takes what belongs to him. But Luke has more pressing problems at hand as he leads you further away from the crowd, like how you keep pressing your soft hands into the growing bulge of his cargo shorts, a sly grin illuminating your face and a simple, “Oopsie!” each time you do it. The both of you know what you’re blatantly hinting at after the third pass, and he’d be an idiot to ignore the way your arms wrap around his neck, knees buckling as you beg him to divert your journey towards the lake—whichever way that may be; you’re drunk off cheap vodka and he’s drunk off the smell of sweat and salt on your skin.
You feel like you’re flying, squealing like Luke’s tickling you as he carries you in his arms. There’s something in him that loves the way you pretend to resist, like how prey fall limp in a predator’s hold just in case they might lose interest—but how could he? You’re mouthing at his collarbone, tongue tracing out the letters of your name and your body pliant under his grasp. His skin is impermanently marked where no one can see, yet he’s yours either way, especially when you tease him like this, cooing, “Luke, come onnnn….”
“Shhh…silly girl, they’ll hear you.”
The boy is grinning and has his hands wrapped under your armpits; in your drunken haze, you think it might be the wind or his long fingers caressing the underwire of your bra as he sets you down against him, back to his chest and legs dipping in the warm waters of Canoe Lake. You lean into him nonetheless, pulling your best friend in with a cute pout until he’s putty in your hands. He’d do anything for you. And right now, you’re hyperaware of that.
“Stop…don’t move,” he breathes, eyes fluttering as you wiggle against his lap and wrap his arms tighter around you, engulfing your frame from any stragglers that might be heading back from the bonfire. But Luke made sure you’d be alone tonight, your cheek against his as you both observe how the moon reflects the water. Your face is warm against his and he feels the imprint of your smile taking form by how it feels against his jaw, “M’just playing Lu. You know that, right?”
Clenching his jaw he smiles stiffly at you, and he silently thanks the gods you’re too drunk to notice his disappointment. He knows you love this—reveling in any attention you give him, drunk kisses in the moonlight and wandering hands doing very unfriendly things that he wishes you’d actually want to talk to him about in the morning. But when you’re not with him, your attention is elsewhere—preening over being treated like the ultimate prize. He was just easy access for you. And you still won’t think it means anything.
So as a typical son of Hermes, he takes matters into his own hands, literally taking you, even if you’re not his. It’s all the same to him, really, and you’re the one pushing his palms into the cotton cups of your bra. You’re using him because he’s there, and whatever this is will have to do for now.
“Gotta stay quiet f’me…stay still, okay?”
Luke unzips your shorts, tracing slow circles into your sodden underwear as you bite down on your bottom lip and look at him all needy. It almost looks like desire, but he wants you to mean it. He needs to make sure you’re devoted to him too—not just when you spread your legs and moan his name into the quiet of the night.
Being desired might be your domain, but deception is his. By morning, they’ll find Vincent's body floating in the very lake that your legs are writhing in. While you’re busy with the feeling of his fingers delving in and out of your warmth, he plans on how to get you to cum hard enough so that your eyes stay closed and ignore the smaller details, like the smell of blood on the rocks, and the Demeter boy’s flowers he’s been plucking out of your hair since you started your rendezvous—drifting back towards the still-warm body of their owner.
You’ll see how much you mean to him. He’s made sure of it.
꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷
ma1dita's monster mash is open for requests until 10/12 :)
#ma1dita's monster mash 𓉸ྀི#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan smut#pjo x reader#kinktober#made by ma1dita ♥︎#luke castellan fanfic
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“say ‘i’m the man!’”
eren’s voice carries down the hall, boisterous and loud as it easily reaches every corner of your small one bedroom apartment.
you furrow your brows and glance in the general direction of the sound, but decide to ignore it and continue on with breakfast—gathering a dollop of strawberry jam on your knife before spreading it onto a piece of toast.
you’d rather not know what the two of them are up to, eren and your two year old son that is. he’s supposed to be getting the kid ready for the day, but whether or not that’s actually happening is a different story.
“i’m da man!” his little voice repeats the sentence—not quite as powerful as his dad, but still loud enough to find your ears.
“louder!” eren shouts, and you immediately drop what you’re doing to head towards them.
your slippers scuff against the floor as you shuffle down the hall, following the source of sound until it leads you just outside the bathroom door. you nudge it with your foot, causing it to creep open and reveal the duo—your son, who’s standing on the counter, and eren, who—at the very least, is holding onto him.
“hi,” eren grins, prompting his mini me to do the same. you note the atrocious man bun, well, little man bun your son is sporting—hair haphazardly pulled together at the back of his head.
eren gestures to him, pride flooding his features as he mumbles, “he’s the man.”
“oh yeah?” a smile tugs at your own lips—every ounce of authority you waltzed over here with threatening to vanish into thin air as you look at your little family. nevertheless, someone has to enforce the rules around here. “well, tell the man that if he doesn’t keep it down, he’s not getting any chocolate milk with his breakfast.”
the two of them exchange a glance, an identical look of concern—real and genuine from your son, dramatic and over the top from your fiancé.
“should we go eat?” eren whispers to him, naively expecting him to follow in his footsteps again.
“yeah!” your son yells, excitement filling his eyes at the mention of his all time favourite beverage. he sets a new record every time he chugs a glass, and always gets a kick out of the little moustache he gets afterwards—loving that he looks like dad.
“buddy,” eren laughs as he lightly cups a hand over the toddler’s mouth. “shhh, quiet okay? you heard the boss, no chocolate milk if you yell.”
your son puts his hand over his own mouth and nods his head, prompting eren to lift him onto the floor and send him scurrying off into the kitchen—little feet padding against the hardwood.
“what the hell?” you say, keeping your voice low to ensure your baby doesn’t hear. “it’s 8 o’clock in the morning, why are you shouting?”
“hey, i’m instilling confidence in him,” he pouts, having heard you mention something along those lines once or twice—about how important it is for him to be proud of who he is.
“eren,” you sigh, because you know he means well—he wants nothing but the absolute best for your son too, which is why he more or less lets him do as he pleases.
he encourages him to jump around and dance to his favourite songs, and doesn’t care that he gets marker all over his face when he colours. he’ll give him bear paws before dinner, and hold his hand as the two of them run and giggle down the halls of your apartment building, because they’re just so happy to come home and see you after a trip to the grocery store.
eren lets your kid be a kid, and while that might put a scowl on the face of those around you, all that matters is that your son is always smiling.
“i know, just,” you pause, searching for the right words—the ones that won’t paint you as the bad cop you feel you’re being. though, you look into eren’s eyes, and see nothing but the purest love and adoration overflowing from his pupils, and you know—he thinks you’re doing perfect. “just, wait until after ten at least, okay? that old couple next door already has us on their shit list.”
“course, ‘m sorry baby,” he hums—cupping your cheek with a grin that’s a little too smug and out of place to be there right now. “but you know, you got us on that list, not him.”
“me?” you tilt your head, racking your brain for a time in which you might’ve pissed them off. did you forget to hold the door open? shit.
“mhmm,” he hums, moving his hand to the back of your head to hold you flush against him, and you look adorable—in the reflection of the mirror, with your little thinking face on and your cheek squished against him. he almost feels guilty.
“what did i—”
“nghhh eren, that feels soooo good,” he moans, quiet and sultry—changing the pitch of his voice slightly in an attempt to mimic your own.
“eren!” you gasp, planting your palms flat on his chest to push him away. “shut up, you’re the only reason i sound like that.”
“damn right,” he grins, pulling you right back in for a messy kiss—hands sneaking underneath your shirt and travelling up your—
crash.
“oh no,” you mumble, peeling yourself away from him once more. your son—who’s been alone and suspiciously quiet for the last five minutes, is now doing god knows what in the kitchen. “go check on your satan spawn, would you?”
“hey,” he frowns, swiftly backing out of the room and towards the noise, but not without putting on a quick smile to clarify, “our satan spawn.”
you roll your eyes, but still feel the corners of your lips tug upwards. eren is far from perfect, but he’s pretty good at keeping a smile on your face too.
#izurou#eren x reader#attack on titan x reader#eren jaeger x reader#aot x reader#eren x you#eren yeager x reader#snk x reader#eren fluff
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Arranged | Todoroki Shoto
Summary | Endeavor and your father both always wanted to be higher in the hero rankings. In case you and Shoto do not achieve those goals, they decided you should enter a Quirk marriage to create an even better Quirk combination. However, you and Shoto didn't want to give into those demands. So how did you end up falling in love?
Content | Smut, fluffy, virginity loss, unprotected sex, aged up Shoto (third year, 18), discussion of marriage, alluded abuse of both Shoto and reader
Word Count | 2.4k+
A/N | I've had this idea for a while, this wasn't the original direction I had in mind, but this is how it went as I wrote. I'm trying to get better at writing smut! At the time of posting, I wrote this forever ago
Your Quirk developed when you were 4 and a half years old. Since that day, your life changed, and not for the better. Since that day, you've been training. You've been training hard.
Almost the moment that your Quirk finally developed, your father had made an agreement with the number two hero. His boy had already developed his Quirk, and your father had been waiting for yours to finally appear.
Later that year, you met Endeavor's youngest son, the boy you were told you would later marry, provided everything followed the plan created by your fathers.
The next time you saw him, roughly six months later, he had gained a large facial scar on his left side, although you did not ask about it.
Throughout the next ten years, you saw the boy multiple times, training together on occasion. You had to learn how best to use your Quirks in cooperation with each other, as well as separately. That was somewhat difficult, considering Shoto's refusal to use his fire.
Despite also having a deep hatred of your father, you never refused to use his half of the Quirk you inherited.
Your Quirk is called Cryo-Phasing, giving you the ability to pass through objects, simultaneously freezing them. Your phasing Quirk works a little differently than Mirio's, being unable to pass through the floor.
Your father and Endeavor believed that combining your Quirks in a Quirk marriage could lead to a stronger version of the Ice Quirk, as well as possibly adding Phasing to the mix of Quirks, thus creating an even more powerful child.
It seemed like some things never changed.
At age 15, you were accepted in UA through recommendations, being placed into Class 1-A, the same class as Shoto.
At the beginning of the year, it was unusual for the two of you to speak much, to each other or really to anyone else. You would spend time together, sure, but that was almost purely because you somewhat knew each other already. The only real interactions you had were sitting together during lunch breaks, and training together during class.
You both excelled in academics, combat and Quirk use. Of course, you had both been training for this your entire lives, training with some of the top heroes in Japan, so that was to be expected.
It wasn't until Midoriya helped Shoto to start coming out of his shell that you two started to actually get to know each other. He started to sit with Midoriya and his friends, but he didn't want you to become lonely, so he invited you to join them. Although you were quiet and difficult to get to know, he did hold some level of affection for you already. He figured that you were in a similar position to him, and that you would be able to relate to him and his issues.
During that time, Midoriya and his friends continued to help Shoto come out of his shell and open up to people, and also helped you to begin opening up too.
In particular, you and Shoto opened up to each other a lot.
Once UA implemented the dorm system, you and Shoto spent a lot of time together outside of school hours. It seemed to everyone that you were always together, whether that was in the common areas or one of your bedrooms.
Everyone was convinced that you both had crushes on each other, both being asked many times why you were not dating. Both of you claimed you were only friends.
Neither of you truly knew what it was you felt for each other, both being somewhat emotionally stunted from your upbringings, but you both knew it was something different from what you felt for your other friends. You both wanted to deny these feelings. After all, neither of you wanted to give in to what your fathers wanted for you.
During your second year, you kissed for the first time. Everyone had thrown a birthday party for Shoto, and as everything was winding down and coming to an end, he had snuck away with you and took you to the balcony in his room, claiming he wanted some fresh air.
Once outside, he turned to you and informed you of a conversation he had with his father a few days prior. He had spoken to your father about breaking the marriage arrangement. Your father had been against it, but Endeavor insisted that Shoto is now free to make his own choices. Part of his atonement for his previous actions.
Your father was continuing to try convince Endeavor to change his mind, which is why you hadn't been informed.
He explained that he was still hesitant to give into what his father wanted, even if he had been let free from being basically forced to do them now.
You understood his feelings, of course you did, you'd been struggling with the same thoughts about this as him.
"Well, for now, while we figure everything out, how about we just try this?" you ask him, taking both his hands and stepping closer, leaning up.
He realised what you were doing and leaned down a little, your lips pressing together for the first time. When you went to pull away, his hands let go of yours, moving quickly to wrap around you, keeping you close to him, not letting you move away, or break the kiss.
You don't try fight him on it, arms moving to wrap around his neck as your lips move against his.
Once you finally do break the kiss, he moves one hand up to rest gently on the back of your head, guiding it to rest against his shoulder, allowing him to keep you close.
Just a moment later, you were interrupted by a small squeak from inside the bedroom. Shouto apparently hadn't locked the door, and someone had realised the birthday boy was no longer present at his own party, so a few friends had come looking for him. The squeak came from Uraraka, who quickly ran out of the room, being closely trailed by a slightly red Midoriya.
The two of you looked at each other and smiled softly. "I suppose we may have to answer some questions."
He nodded in response to your statement, leaving to re-join the party.
Ashido and Hagakure of course asked if you were dating now, which you both denied. For now, it was simply a kiss.
"Are you going to Endeavor's agency once school is over?" You ask, laying with your bed hanging off the bed, looking at your best friend.
He gives a small nod. "I believe it will be the best place for me to start off." He says before talking a small, sharp breath. "Can we talk about something?"
You raise your eyebrows a little and sit up, patting the bed next to you, where he takes a seat. "Of course, what is it?"
"We're almost finished with UA, and I thought it may be time to finally discuss our relationship, before we leave school."
You take a small breath in this time, feeling a little nervous about what he is about to say. Your crush on the boy had never disappeared, but you never brought up your relationship again, not wanting him to feel pressured into making a choice he wasn't ready to make.
His hands find their way to grip yours gently, keeping eye contact with you. "I would like to go into this new part of our lives together. I am still a little hesitant for us to do what our father want from us, but it's what I want too, and I hope it is what you also want."
You bite your lip, letting go of his hands and throwing your arms around him. "Shoto, I would love that. I have wanted that for years."
He nods silently, one arm wrapping around your back, the other digging into his pocket. A moment later, he pulls a small, cute box out, pulling away from you a little so he can look you in the eyes as he hands the box to you.
"I've had this since I was 15. My father insisted I should give it to you, but I never did. I want you to have it," he says.
Inside is a small ring, with a delicate diamond, dainty and tasteful rather than being large and distracting. You bring your eyes back up to look at his, surprised.
"That ring is simply proof of my love for you. We should take things at my own pace. I'll buy you a ring myself one day. That will be when I really propose."
You smile, once again throwing your arms around him, this time putting your weight behind it to catch him off guard and knock him over.
Before he has a chance to say anything, you plant your lips firmly on his, bringing one hand to rest on his cheek, the other resting on his chest, legs holding you up as his hands immediately find your waist, giving into the kiss without any hesitation.
His fingers grip you tightly, breathing already beginning to get a little heavier. Although he has no experience, it seems as though he knows what to do, at least a little, moving his leg to press between your own.
One hand stays on your waist, the other moving to wrap around your back, holding you close to him and allowing him to press him leg up more, bouncing it softly.
His movements cause a soft moan to escape your lips, muffled by his own.
"You're so beautiful," he whispers breathlessly before connecting his lips to yours once again, seemingly wanting to have all contact he possibly can with you.
His tongue runs along your bottom lip, probing into your mouth, wanting to explore you as much as possible.
Breathlessly, you pull away from the kiss, looking down at him. His heterochromatic eyes stare back up at you, lids low with lust.
You sit up, pulling your shirt over your head, discarding it to a forgotten corner of the room. His hands quickly find their way back to your waist, biting his lip as he admires you. His staring makes you blush, but you know he's just taking it in.
His hands come up higher and carefully, yet slightly clumsily, undo your bra, slipping it off your body, throwing it in the same general direction as your shirt, quickly moving one hand to your left breast, sitting up and leaning his head to take your right nipple into his mouth.
You bite your lip, moaning softly. Your arm wraps around him, one hand coming up to play with his hair. You give it a gentle tug, making him groan softly.
Carefully, he moves so that you're underneath him, mouth not leaving your breast until your back is pressed against the bed.
Your hands find your way under his shirt, resting on his abdomen, prompting him to discard his too.
He leans down to kiss you once again, hands moving down to undo the shorts you're wearing, shuffling them down your thighs along with your panties. His long fingers drag slowly down your slit.
"You're so wet for me already, baby," he whispers in your ear.
His fingers continue to tease you, dipping slightly into you, but never quite giving you what you want, enjoying your moans as they get increasingly desperate.
You only want more and more as you feel his clothed cock pressing against your thigh.
“Shoto, please,” you whimper, needing more than what he’s giving you.
He chuckles softly. “Because you asked so nicely,” he whispers, slipping two fingers inside you, moving them slowly.
You moan softly, eyes closing and head leaning back. His movements speed up, fingers quickly finding your sweet spot. His thumb moves to your clit, your moans growing louder.
“S-Shoto, so good, so close,” you moan, looking up at him, orgasm building inside you.
Shoto kisses you, tongue finding it’s way into your mouth immediately, swallowing your moans as you get closer and closer to your release.
Then, right before you get there, his fingers suddenly withdraw. Your eyes shoot open and you look up at him, breathless and confused.
He laughs softly. “You look so pretty like that, baby,” He kisses your forehead, unable to resist at the sight of your bemused pout. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to leave you unsatisfied.”
He quickly takes off his pants, his cock straining against his boxers to get out. When he finally lets it free, your mouth falls open slightly at how big he is. You’d expected him to be big, but not that big.
His hand runs up and down his cock a few times, spreading the juices on his fingers onto his cock before pressing up against your hole, which is already missing the fullness of his fingers.
“You ready, beautiful?” he asks you. You nod, taking your lower lip between your teeth.
He slowly pushes his cock into you, taking in a deep breath. “Been waiting so long for this, baby,” he whispers in your ear before moving to kiss your neck.
Your moans sound so sweet in his ear, moving slowly to give you time to adjust to the new stretch. He stills for a moment when he bottoms out inside you, stopping to kiss you.
“Are you ready, beautiful?” he asks you softly. He waits for your confirmation before moving, pulling out a little before thrusting back inside.
He pulls out a little further each time, cock seemingly perfect for finding that sweet spot inside you, as if your bodies are made perfectly for each other.
"You look so pretty for me, baby," he whispers, eyes staying on you, wanting to see your reactions to his movements, enjoying the look of bliss on your face.
You moan each time he thrusts inside you. "Your cock feels so good, baby," you whisper breathlessly.
His fingers find their way back to your clit, rubbing gently to begin with, rubbing a little harder as he continues.
"I'm getting close, baby," he whispers, breath heavy and small beads of sweat on his forehead. You nod to tell him you are too, moans interrupting your speech when you try to vocalise it.
He rubs harder, moaning as he feels your pussy tighten around him, getting him closer to his own orgasm as you reach your own climax.
Right before he reaches his own high, he pulls out, finishing on your abdomen and thighs.
For a minute, he stays where he is, both breathing heavily and just enjoying the moment.
When he does finally get up, he goes and grabs a warm cloth, cleaning you up, neither of you saying anything.
He climbs onto the bed and lays next to you, wrapping his arm around you. "This was worth the wait," he whispers to you, making you laugh softly.
"I agree."
#shoto todoroki#todoroki shoto#shouto todoroki#todoroki shouto#my hero academia#todoroki shoto smut#shoto todoroki smut#todoroki shouto smut#shouto todoroki smut#mha#my hero academia smut#mha smut#todoroki shoto x reader#shoto todoroki x reader#shouto todoroki x reader#todoroki shouto x reader#mha x reader#my hero academia fanficiton#boku no hero#boku no hero academia
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SLY FOX // DUMB BUNNY - ZENIN CLAN
ft. fox!toji, naoya, naobito, jinichi and ogi x bunny!reader
a/n: thank uuuu to @sqiim and @kaitkatme for beta'ing !!! another commission for @nexysworld :333 coolest gal out there on god 💪 gangbangs are... hard to write but... think i cooked???? fb and rbs appreciated !!
cw: 18+ content, gang bang, mxmxmxmxmxf!reader, knotting, dubcon, power dynamics, ooc naobito?, double penetration, breeding, creampies galore !!, mating press, doggy, biting, very small blood mention, size difference-ish, cockwarming, the zenins aren't nice, misogyny
word count: 2.6k words
Being a servant in the Zen'in family was difficult. Being a rabbit among a den of foxes was another thing entirely. You could feel narrowed, judgmental eyes following your every movement. You could sense their gazes on you at every moment, even when you thought you were alone.
Some of them liked to play with you for sport - tugging on your floppy ears, baring their teeth at you to watch you tremble or sneaking up on you to watch you jump. It keeps you on edge, but more than anyone, Naobito fills you with a sense of dread.
It's his silence - the way his watchful eye scours the compound. He does not discipline his family for their mistreatment of you, but he does not engage in the behaviour himself. If anything, he seems wholly uninterested in you, addressing you only when he sees fit.
You're tense when he approaches, every muscle fibre pulled taut in your body. His gaze is locked on you, but his movements are slow. Languid. Like he enjoys watching you squirm as he approaches.
“Here, little rabbit.” He orders, voice firm and unwavering, but not cruel. Your ears twitch at the authority in his tone, and you're quick to walk towards him until you're right in front of him. He nods his head to the side, turning and walking away. A silent command for you to follow.
He's silent as he leads you to the clan meeting hall. There's a few faces you recognise here - the next most eligible heads of the Zen’in clan, along with its very own black sheep, Toji. Naobito orders you to strip, and you shakily comply, shaking slightly under the fox’s heavy gazes.
“You've all failed to produce any useful heirs to secure your place as the next head of the clan. Ogi has given us women, Toji - a bastard. My own son has not even produced a child, and as for you, Jinichi… I do not even wish to speak on the matter. You have somehow disappointed me more than your brother.”
Naobito kicks your trembling form forward, your body bare as you catch yourself before making contact with the floor. The wood is rough against your soft skin, your eyes flickering across the many faces of the Zen'in men staring down at you.
“A bunny. Not ideal, of course. But fertile enough I'm sure one of you will be able to fuck a useful heir into her by the end of today.”
The men are tense, gazing at each other for a few silent moments, as if eyeing up who gets first dibs. Ogi is the eldest, but seems thoroughly disinterested. Toji, although cocky, knows well enough that a fight will break out if he attempts to be the first to approach. The toss up is left between Naoya and Jinichi, who both look like they're about three seconds away from tearing each other apart.
Naoya steps forward first, which sets Jinichi off. He takes two large steps forward, his form dwarfing Naoya's as he squares up, determined to be the first to have you. Naoya's fur bristles, his tone conceited when he speaks up.
“I'm the rightful heir. It is my duty to breed her first.” He grunts, stepping in front of his cousin, glaring as he gazes up at the older man.
“You're nothing but a spoiled brat. I could tear you apart in seconds, little fox.” Jinichi growls, thick brows pulling together as he pushes Naoya to the side, baring his teeth at his cousin in frustration. He kneels, his hand coming down to smack your clit harshly before he forces two thick fingers into your cunt.
“Your son is too arrogant, uncle. You should teach him some respect.” He grunts, scissoring you open. You're much wetter than fox girls he's been with, slick gushing from you eagerly, streaming steadily down his hand to his wrist. “Bet a cock like that wouldn't even stretch out a tiny bunny girl like this, hmm?”
Naoya's tail bristles, a low growl forming in his throat as his lips curl back. “You watch your mouth old man, or I swear I'll-”
“Enough. Both of you. I'm sharing the girl as a gift to our clan - a means for you to produce heirs. Do not think I won't keep her to myself if you don't behave.” Naobito cuts in, his eyes narrowing as he gazes at the other Zen'in's. Ogi remains silent next to him, but his gaze is harsh and unwavering as he gazes at Naoya, making his disdain for his attitude abundantly clear.
Toji, who has been too busy watching his brother’s fingers splitting you open, scoffs at the eldest Zen’in. His eyes flick up to his uncle, and he cocks his head to the side. When he speaks, it's with barely restrained amusement. “You think you can keep up with a bunny at your age?”
Ogi speaks up for the first time then, his gaze narrowing in on Toji. “You should consider yourself lucky that a runt like you was even invited to join in on this.”
“Runt, huh? I'm bigger than you, ya old bastard.” He growls, ears pulling back as he straightens up, making himself appear bigger. You whimper as you gaze at the two men, but Jinichi doesn't stop stretching you out, leaving you mewling despite your discomfort.
Jinichi ignores their bickering in favour of pulling his fingers from your tight cunt, shedding his kimono and pulling his cock free. Your eyes widen as you get a lock at it, your chest heaving with nervous breaths.
“That's not… it's too big.” You squeak, eyes wide as he grips the back of your thighs, folding you in half effortlessly. In return, you get another harsh smack against your cunt, one that has you jolting with a whimper. He bares down on you, forcing his thick length into your tight hole, bottoming out with a low groan.
The stretch stings, making you whine and squirm against his body. His grip is unwavering, not allowing you to pull too far back from him. He doesn't grace you time to adjust as he presses your thighs to your chest, the weight of his body keeping you pinned. He sets a brutal pace, fat cock rutting into you mercilessly.
“I'm sick of waiting.” Naoya growls, his ears pulling back as he glares at his cousin. Jinichi bristles as he approaches, body growing rigid as the younger man approaches. “Let up for a second, huh? ‘M just gonna join ya. Fuckin’ brute.”
Jinichi scowls, but relents, pulling out of you long enough for Naoya to lie down, lifting you so your back is pressed against his chest. He sinks into you with a whine, tail swaying contentedly under him. The larger man returns, slowly pressing his length in along his cousin's with a grunt.
“Fuck… she's even tighter.” He practically purrs, continuing the brutal pace he set before. Naoya starts moving too, their cocks pistoning in and out in a rough rhythm that steals the air from your lungs.
Jinichi senses your discomfort, but the most he offers to soothe you is his tongue lapping at your skin, a soft growl rumbling in his chest. His head dips down to your chest, dark locks tickling your skin as he latches onto a nipple, sharp teeth grazing the fat of your breast. You mewl at the feeling, slick gushing from your cunt to aid in the movements of the cocks inside of you.
“So wet. Acting all shy, but your body knows what you're meant for.” Naoya coos, a condescending tone underlying his words. He sinks his teeth into the crook of your neck as he fucks into you, the sharp pain making you cry out. He loosens his jaw, lapping at the blood spilling from the bite. “A bunny bitch acting like she wasn't born to be bred.”
The other clan members watch the exchange, but Toji is most notably affected. His eyes are hooded as he stares at the way your hole stretches around his brother and cousin, eyes narrowed in on your slick cunt.
Jinichi's thrusts grow sloppily as he reaches his peak. He feels his knot swelling, and he pulls back from your breast and grits his teeth to surpass the urge to force it past your tight ring of muscle. He growls as he spills inside of you, filling him with your seed.
“Can't keep up, cousin?” Naoya teases, a shit-eating grin spreading across his face. Jinichi snaps at him in warning, easing his softening cock out of you.
“I'll rip your throat out with my teeth, you insolent brat.” He sneers, stepping away from you as Naoya continues to pound into you. Naoya rolls his eyes, his expression still smug as he rolls the both of you over and yanks your hips up so he can fuck you properly.
“Presenting all pretty f’me.” He teases, draping his frame over yours as he ruts into you desperately. “Just like a good breedin’ bitch, hmm?”
You whine low in your throat, bunny ears flopping limply by your face as you claw at the ground, pussy already sore from being treated so roughly. You do your best to roll your hips back to meet his thrusts, but you're already tired and your movements are sloppy and disorganised.
“Gonna knot this bunny cunt.” He murmurs, brows furrowing as he fucks into your drippy cunt. His knot catches your entrance, and he forces it in with a hiss of pleasure, tail twitching behind him. You feel his cum filling you, joining his cousin's as he rides out his high. He sits back with a satisfied sigh, making you yelp as his knot tugs you back with him.
“Did ya have to knot her?” Toji growls, tail stiffening as he approaches. “Been waitin' long enough as it is.”
“You can wait longer.” Naoya huffs, stretching his legs out to get comfortable as he waits for his knot to deflate. The next few minutes are tense as Toji's gaze remains locked on his cousin, waiting impatiently for his turn.
As soon as Naoya's knot deflates enough for him to wriggle free, Toji steps forward. He's stopped by a firm hand on his shoulder, Ogi's face expressionless as he pulls him back.
“I'm not sharing with the runt.” Ogi says simply, stepping towards you as he frees his cock without bothering to disrobe. “And I'm certainly not letting his seed dirty my cock. He can wait.”
Toji lunges, clearly looking for a fight, but one firm look from the head of the clan has him stopping, seething as he steps back again to watch his uncle slide easily into your used cunt. You're already sore and tender, and you know you're not going to last long with the deep, slow strokes Ogi's delivering.
You whimper as you clench around him, cumming on his cock. Your eyes water, lash line gathering tears that threaten to fall down your face. Ogi doesn't speak, or so much as acknowledge you, using you for nothing more than his own pleasure. The overstimulating pleasure has your back arching, and you mewl as you squirt, release flooding his cock and coating his lower abdomen.
His face wrinkles in distaste, but he just continues rocking his hips against yours until his knot swells. He doesn't knot you - but he buries himself to the swollen base of his cock before cumming deep in you. He pulls back, putting his cock away before nodding once in the direction of his brother and leaving the room.
Toji steps forward, cock already aching and drooling as he approaches. He seems to soften at your fucked out, exhausted expression and twitching thighs, his features softening almost imperceptibly.
“Shhh, it's alright, little one.” He coos, voice low as he nuzzles a floppy ear so only you can hear it. He knows what it's like used and discarded by the Zen'in’s, albeit in an entirely different way. “Won't make ya take my knot. I'll be careful.”
He sheaths his cock into you slowly, guiding each inch carefully into your swollen cunt. His thumb rubs circles into your clit, hoping to give you pleasure as he chases his own. He stays still when he's buried into you fully, the head of his cock twitching as it presses firmly against your cervix. He licks at your ears gently, coaxing you to relax before he starts fucking into you.
You whine and keen under him, lips open in a silent gasp as he fucks into you. You can barely keep your eyes open, lids fluttering as you peer up at him.
“Keep your eyes open, bunny.” He purrs, tail swaying behind him. “Don't pass out on me just yet.”
You whine softly, but force your eyes open. He grabs your hips, manhandling you so he can pull you back to meet his thrusts, bullying himself into your cunt with low grunts. “So fuckin’ tight after bein’ stretched by so many cocks, lil bunny.”
The squelching sounds of your abused cunt fill the room with every shift of his hips, your moans and whines growing louder as your orgasm crashes through you once again, your walls tightening around Toji's cock. He growls at the feeling, thrusting shallowly before shooting hot ropes of white deep inside your trembling form. He stays buried inside of you for a few moments, nuzzling at your neck before pulling back, ruffling your hair between your ears.
Naobito gestures for everyone to leave once Toji redresses before he beckons your exhausted body towards him. You can't even walk straight, your body shaking with exertion as you approach him. Cum drips down your inner thighs, the sensation making you cringe.
He fishes his cock out - its hard and leaky, the tip flushed red. You whimper softly at the thought of being bred again, but he clicks his tongue to silence you. He hoists you onto his lap, ears twitching as he slowly slides you down on his length. He grunts as he bottoms out, nosing at your hair before his tongue darts out to run along the length of one of your ears.
“Shh, little bunny. Just keeping you plugged, hmm? Making sure one of those useless bastards gives our family an heir.” He coos, uncharacteristically soft. His tail sways gently, greying fur brushing the soft skin of your thigh.
“You're one of us now. Gonna be carrying Zen’in kits in you soon. I'll make sure you're looked after.” He murmurs, holding you close to his chest, large hands rubbing up and down your back.
He starts thrusting slowly, tongue coming out to lathe gently across your skin to soothe as he guides you up and down on his cock. He barely pulls out, only shifting you a few inches so it's more of a slow grind.
“You're going to take my knot, little one. Then you can relax, and I'll have the servants draw you a bath.” He murmurs against your skin, nosing at the crook of your shoulder. He's old, and his stamina wasn't what it used to be, so it's not long before he pops his knot in you.
He holds you close as he floods you with his cum, your belly feeling full from all the loads you'd taken. He reaches up to stroke one of your floppy ears, running his fingers gently along your soft fur.
“Sleep, little rabbit. I will personally see to arranging a chamber for you in the compound until we can find out who the father is.” He almost purrs, gently stroking your ears until you drift off.
#fushiguro toji x reader#toji smut#zenin clan x reader#naoya x you#naoya zen'in x reader#naoya smut#toji x reader#ogi x reader#zenin naobito#naobito smut#naobito x reader#jinichi smut#jinichi x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk smut
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this is a request!!! can you do the ending of s4 but instead of kie its reader and how she is affected by this through time
More Time
Pairing: JJ Maybank x Pogue!reader
Synopsis: You come to learn that even after the high, you gotta come back down at some point and face reality
Word Count: 1.8k
Warnings: season 4 pt. 2 SPOILERS, angst, use of y/n, mentions of death, unedited
A/n: I started this as soon as you sent it in. Tell me why I actually love it? Anyway, I hope it's what you wanted!! Keep sending in requests.
~~~
Time was a funny thing. Two minutes ago you were on a high. The plan was to get the Blue Crown, capture Groff, and get back home as soon as possible. Now you were running from Dalia and her crew, trying not to get shot.
JJ pulled you by your arm, doing his best to guide you both through the sandstorm. “Run, run, run! Come on, we gotta find the others!” he yelled.
You could barely see through the goggles you had on and the wind was so loud you couldn’t hear. When you and JJ came to a fork in the road, you decided to take the lead and go to the right, “I think it’s this way!” you said before you ran off, thinking he would follow.
You made it to a little section of the building where the sand and wind wouldn’t reach as much. Turning around, you saw that JJ wasn’t behind you. “JJ!” you shouted in panic but before you could shout again you were grabbed from behind.
You felt an arm go around the front of your neck, keeping you from escaping. “Shh! Quiet!” It was Groff. You knew you couldn’t trust him. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see he was holding a knife. The sight made you whimper out of fear. “Shut up!”
You had to get JJ’s attention. “JJ!” There was no way you were going to die like this after everything. You could hear him yell out for you, “Y/n!”
A second later, you saw his tall figure run into the room you were standing in. You let out a sharp gasp as Groff tightened the grip he had on you.
“You let her go!” You hadn’t been that scared in a while but knowing that your boyfriend could potentially watch you die in a few minutes scared you.
“You know what I want…” Groff said glancing at the Crown in JJ’s hand. “Give it to me!”
“Just… let her go,” his voice was calm but you could see that he was panicked. JJ didn’t want to give up the Crown, you were way more important, but the Crown would help him get his house and his business back. The one thing he wouldn’t be able to get back was you.
With Groff standing there with you, JJ knew he had no choice. “You could’ve stuck with me, JJ. Think of what you could’ve had. But now you… you get nothing.”
“No. I already have everything. I have everything I’ve ever wanted.” JJ’s eyes softened as he looked at you, “Things that you’ll never have. You want the crown? Sure, take it.” He said as he held out the Crown, “Take it. I don’t want it. Just…let her go.”
Groff took his offer and loosened his grip on you but didn’t let you go fully. He kept his right arm around your throat and stretched out his left arm to reach for the crown. JJ slowly extended both arms. One with the crown and the other to reach for you. In a split second, you were released from Groff’s grip and practically jumped towards JJ.
“I got you,” You were breathing heavily trying to catch your breath as best as you could. “It’s okay,” You took a second to look into his eyes before he pulled you into the tightest hug. “Thank you” You would stay in his arms forever if you could.
But of course, Groff had to ruin the moment.
“JJ…”
JJ let go of you and turned around to face Groff. He was angry about everything he had done up to this point. You stood behind them watching their interaction.
“It’s a shame…You and me.” Groff spoke
Suddenly the sound of JJ’s gasp fills your ears. You didn’t know what had happened until you looked down to see Groff’s hand on the side of JJ’s abdomen. He had stabbed his own son.
“You should have given me… the rope.” were Groff’s last words before he pulled the knife out and fled the scene.
JJ fell back into your arms, clutching his stomach with his left hand. His legs gave out and he fell back taking you with him. You didn’t believe it. His dying body was right in front of your eyes and you couldn’t believe it.
“No, no, no” You whispered trying to keep calm even though it was clear you were panicking. “It’s okay, it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay”
You looked down at his stomach and moved his hands so you could get a better look. “Let me see it,” The sight made you wince. You had never been good with blood or wounds but this was different. It was JJ, the love of your life, so if you needed to stop the bleeding you were going to.
You lifted your head to look at his face and saw that he was staring at his wound. You needed him to focus on you and not think about potentially dying. “Hey, hey, hey… hey, look at me”
His head stayed down.
“JJ, I need you to look at me” He finally fixed his eyes on you and you could see the pain in them. They were ready to close.
“Baby…” he whispered and just then you could tell
He’s accepted it.
“You are not dying. Okay? You’re not-”
“Y/n…” It hurt to speak, but he had to get your attention
“I’ll go… find the others and…we’ll get you some help and then we’ll go home and you’ll be fine. Everything’s gonna be fine.”
Nothing about this is fine.
“I never told you my wish.” he stuttered out
“What? No, JJ, it’s okay.”
He continued anyway, “I already got it… I already got my wish… I got everything I wanted.” He shifted his body, trying to sit up a bit higher but he let out a groan at the pain.
“No, no, no… Stay with me, please”
Seeing him in pain was the worst form of torture. You couldn’t bear it. You sobbed, tears running down your face as he grabbed onto your left arm, squeezing it to grab your attention once again.
“Hey… take care of the others. Okay?”
“No. No. Fuck that, that’s not what this is. You’re not dying.”
His eyes were already fluttering, ready to close for good.
Before he spoke, he used up all his strength to lift his hand, slip off his favorite ring, and place it on your left ring finger.
“I wanted to do that sooner, but I left the ring at home. I love you, Y/n”
Your heart wanted to explode for 2 entirely different reasons. “I love you too. I- I love you so much.”
You watched as his eyes shut for the last time, his body taking its last breath. “Please, no, no, no, no. No!”
Your hands reached for his face as you realized that he was gone. Forever.
“No! JJ, please! Please wake up! Please!” you exclaimed, shaking his body as if it would bring him back.
“John B! Pope! Anyone, please help! JJ, you gotta wake up baby!”
You were begging at this point, desperate to hear his voice, his laugh, see his smile, just one last time. You cried for him. For the shitty life he had been dealt. All the shit he’d gone through just for it to end like this.
He lost his mother, he had a shitty father and somehow gained an ever worse one, he’d been abused, physically, mentally, and verbally, for 20 years of his life. The only good things he had were his best friends and you.
You were his rock. His safe place. He went to you with every scar, every scrape, every bruise. You’ve seen it all and you’ve made it better every time. But this time, you couldn’t save him. There was nothing you could do.
All your friends came running in at the sound of your cries but you paid no attention to them. You were focused on JJ. Somehow hoping he would let out a big gasp and say, “Gotcha! Hahaha, you should’ve seen your face!”
It would’ve been a shitty prank but anything was better than him actually being dead.
JJ was your best friend out of all of them. He made you laugh and he made you cry. He made you happy whenever he would come home and smother you in kisses “Just ‘cuz” he’d say with a smile on his face. He made you angry whenever he would do something reckless like get into a fight, steal things, or destroy public property.
But you loved him through it all because he was your person.
You refused to leave his side. Sarah, Kie, and Cleo had to practically drag you away from your boyfriend’s— fiance’s dead body.
John B and the group talked about burying him in the sand by the beach since that was his favorite place.
“It's not,” you muttered
The group turned to see you sitting in a corner but barely paying attention.“What?”
“The beach isn’t his favorite place. I am. That’s what he used to tell me. That I’m his “home”. Wherever I go, he goes–” You spoke with a very monotone voice. Not having the energy after screaming and crying like you did. “ –and I think he deserves more than a lousy burial on the beach. He should be buried at home, maybe next to his mom. At least somewhere where I can visit him. Not across the world in Africa where I’ll never be able to see him again.”
They were silent for a bit before Pope spoke up, “Y/n, we completely understand. Trust me, but we have no way of getting home right now, and we can’t just hold onto his body until we find one.”
“I just don’t think it's right. He deserves so much better.”
“I know, but there’s nothing we can do.”
You know you weren’t the only one to lose him. His best friends lost him too, but you still thought the idea was fucked up. You all ended up burying him on the beach anyway.
Pope was right about having no way to get home. The 7 of you sat around a fire. Everyone was quiet. It had been like that for hours, no one wanted to talk. Except for Rafe.
“Groff said he’s going to Lisbon. I don’t know, if it was my friend, I’d probably go after the guy that just killed him. Yeah?”
“Shut up, Rafe” Pope muttered
You watched Groff kill JJ. Of course, you wanted him dead. It would feel even better if you were the one to do it.
“He’s not wrong.” you sided with Rafe, “You think JJ would sit here if it were one of us? You think he’d do nothing? No, he’d get even. He would fight for any one of us. So that’s what we're gonna do for him…”
You paused, looking around at the others before continuing, “We’re gonna get revenge.”
#jj maybank#angst#jj maybank x reader angst#obx#jj maybank x pogue!reader#outer banks#outer banks season 4#jj maybank x reader
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friends and feelings don’t really go well together, do they ? percy jackson x aphrodite fem! reader, wc: 6.2k, note: IT’S FINALLY HERE!! THE LONG AWAITED PIECE!! i’d like to apologize for putting this out so late but you guys have been so so patient and i’d never thank you enough for that !!!!<3 please enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it!! (i did add my own twist to the tartarus fall for the sake of the story… sorry not sorry!)
Wherever Annabeth strayed, Percy followed. It was common knowledge at camp Half-Blood. Everyone could see how hearts seemed to float around the boy’s head whenever Athena’s daughter was around.
You knew this too. And every time Percy’s pining became too obvious, you’d turn your head and swallow the bitter taste of jealousy coming up your throat.
You’ve liked Percy ever since you were thirteen, when he was just starting to grow taller than you and when he made you double over with laughter at the jokes his step-dad told him.
But Percy’s liked Annabeth ever since he was thirteen, when he held the world for her and when he desperately wished she wouldn’t join Artemis’ hunters.
And the whole camp bet on when Percy would make the first move while you were left alone with envy simmering in your veins and the sting of a heartache.
Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to push him away from your life. His bright smile and his curls always made you wonder if he hadn’t been carved by Apollo himself.
Percy has been your friend ever since your arrival at camp. But you’ve also wished he’d be more than that.
It doesn’t really come as a surprise when the son of Poseidon comes to you for advice. You should shut him out and pretend you don’t understand what he’s about to ask, but your mother wouldn’t approve of one her own getting in the way of love. So you let it happen.
“I need your help with something…” are his first words as he stands against the doorway of the Aphrodite cabin. There’s only you and a few of your other siblings inside and instantly, all eyes are on him.
You know what he’s about to ask. You look down, resuming your work on your sister’s hair. “I’m busy Percy. Can you come back later ?”
You don’t look at him but you hear him sigh. “It’s…um… pretty important ? I mean… I’m asking you because I know you’re an expert in the love department, obviously and you’re the only one who can actually help.”
“Fine, come in. But don’t touch my bows! You messed them up last time and I spent forever untangling them.” You smile as you finish little Carla’s hair, while Percy’s hands stir away from your collection.
Once the younger Aphrodite kids were shooed away, you stood up from your spot on the bed, leading Percy outside to the porch. Leaning against the wooden railing you turn your head, studying the crease of his brows and the way his hair seems messier, as if he’d run his hands through it one too many times.
“So ? What do you need me for ? Are you trying to escape kitchen duties again ?” you tease, and he tilts his head, wincing.
“Come on, that was one time… I need your help for something else. Something important” you can see the gears turn in his mind so you egg him on.
“Spit it out Percy ! I’m becoming way too curious.”
This time he turns his entire body to face you. He takes a deep breath and starts. “Can you pretend to be my girlfriend so I can make Annabeth jealous ?”
Silence. You wonder if he just heard the sound of your heart shattering.
“Are you sure this is a good idea…?”
Percy nods. “Maybe she’ll see us together and realize that she actually likes me. She knows we’ve been friends for a while so it won’t be too surprising, will it ?”
You shrug, turning your gaze to the other campers prancing around the other cabins. Part of you wants to say no, to avoid yearning for something that’s not real. But there’s this tiny other part of you screaming to accept the offer, to bask in the experience of something that might never happen again. Facing him again with a smile, you find him already staring at you expectantly.
“What do I get from all of this ?” you tease, gesturing between the two of you.
“My eternal love and gratitude of course !” he laughs as you shove him playfully.
“Okay okay I’ll help you. That’s what friends are for, right ?”
He breathes out, obviously relieved. “Thank you so much ! I owe you one !” he tells you before pulling you into a hug.
The moment you hug him back, you realize the situation you got yourself into. Percy pulls away and starts walking backwards toward the sword training area. “I have to go right now or Mr D is going to be mad and I don’t want to be on stable duty tonight! " he chuckles, but stay awhile after dinner and we’ll set up a plan alright ?”
You salute him jokingly. “Will do, sir !”
At dinner, your eyes flicker between your half empty plate and Percy, heartily laughing away with the Stoll brothers. Feeling someone softly nudging your shoulder, you divert your attention to Drew, looking at you with slight concern.
“You okay ? You’ve been staring at your plate forever.”
“Yeah yeah, just a little tired is all !” you manage a small smile. She nods before resuming her conversation.
Once everyone’s done, all of your siblings scuttle back to cabin 10 while you linger around the amphitheater, remembering Percy’s words.
There’s a whisper of your name coming from behind and you whip around just in time to see Percy jogging towards you.
“Thought you’d never come !” you tease
Your friend jokingly rolls his eyes before taking your wrist, guiding you towards the lake. “I wasn’t gifted with punctuality I know, I know no need to rub it in… Now come, we have a plan to set up !”
The both of you are sitting on the shore, the lights of Sound Island catching your attention. Knees hiked to your chest, you stare at them until Percy clears his throat.
“So… I was thinking…” he starts
“Oh, nothing good can come out of that” you joke and he chuckles.
“Seriously though, if we need to make it work people shouldn’t think our ‘relationship’ comes out of nowhere. You know what I mean ?
You nod, eyes still lost in the distance. “We could tell people you asked me out last summer, before I went home and before you went back to New York. We could tell them we were long distance and decided to make it official this summer at camp.”
You can see Percy nodding enthusiastically from the corner of your eye. “Yes ! That’s a great idea ! I would've never come up with that so quickly.”
The air is quiet now, the both of you looking at the waves lapping at the shore. Until Percy breaks the silence again.
“Do… um… Do you think we should set up rules ? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, or break any boundaries… I don’t want things to get too awkward between us y’know ?” he rubs his neck, avoiding your eyes.
Turning to face him, you place a hand on his shoulder. “I know Percy, don’t worry. And you’re right, boundaries are essential in a relationship.”
“So… What should we do ? Or not for that matter ? You’re the relationship professional here, I’m all ears!”
The boy’s words put a small smile on your face, although you’re already starting to regret this ordeal.
“Well, we should definitely act ‘coupley’ in public. Hugs, hand holding and all that…” You’re about to continue the list when Percy interrupts you. “What about kissing ?”
You can feel your heart drop in your stomach. You should’ve seen this coming. Brows furrowed, you stared at the dark body of water in front of you. “Only for emergencies. The ‘no one believes we’re actually dating so we have to prove them by kissing each other’ kind of emergency. You get me ?”
Percy laughs at the idea. “I couldn’t have summed it up better. Emergencies only then.” There’s a moment of silence between the two of you while he toys with the rocks strewn around him before hearing him sigh. “D’you think it’s gonna work ? That she’s gonna notice me ?”
Mustering the nicest smile you could, you nodded. “Maybe our plan will serve as a little push for her to make the first move. There’s no way she doesn’t like you back. And I'm saying this as a daughter of Aphrodite.” your words elicit a chuckle from the boy next to you. You’re glad to see that he seems a bit relieved by your affirmation, the same you wished someone told you.
Stretching his arms above his head while stifling a yawn, Percy stands up. “Alright, I’m gonna go to bed, you coming with me ?”
Looking up at him, you shake your head. “Think i’m gonna stay out there a little longer, the air’s nice.”
The boy nods. “Alright. I’ll pick you up from your cabin tomorrow morning so don’t sleep in too long ! Otherwise Silena might just drown me with questions and whatnot.” he winks
You giggle. “Don’t worry about that Perce. Good night, I’ll see you tomorrow.” he smiles at you, pinching your ear as was his way of saying goodbye for the past few years before jogging up the hill.
You’re awoken the next day by Carla and Jamie, the two kids fervently shaking your shoulders all the while loudly whispering your name.
“Percy’s here! He says he came to pick you up! Is he your boyfriend ?”
The sleepy state you’re in makes it hard to catch up with their excitement so early in the morning. That’s until you actually hear Percy’s voice alongside Silena’s.
Silena. You shoot up from your bed, rushing to save the boy from your cabin counselor’s inquiries.
Emerging from your cabin while adjusting a slightly rumpled shirt, you catch Percy’s eyes, silently begging for help. You can’t see Silena’s face but judging by Percy’s attitude, she might’ve been asking one too many questions.
“Percy ! Hi ! I didn’t know you were going to pick me up this morning !” you loop your arm around his, a big smile plastered on your face as you wave to your older sister.
He looks back at you with a smile, obviously relieved by your sudden appearance.
“Had to pick up my girl.” he says with a smile, eyes shifting between you and Silena’s questioning stare. You dismissively wave a hand, a way to tell her you’ll explain later.
“I swear she was going to annihilate me! She kept asking me why I came to pick you up and why now !” Percy kept talking your ear off about how scary Silena was on your way to breakfast.
“She might seem… intrusive at times, but she means well ! Silena always cared for her younger siblings. And you’re definitely in her books so I don’t think she hates you, not until you actually hurt me though…” you tell him, eyes crinkling with amusement when you see his face pale.
You noticed that your arm was still looped with Percy’s. And you liked it. It felt natural, almost real. As you approached Aphrodite’s table, Percy slowed his pace. He slightly turned towards you with wide eyes.
“Annabeth is here ! And she’s looking at us ! What do we do ?”
Shifting as discreetly as possible, you notice the girl looking in your direction, eyebrow raised and a small smile on her face. Turning back to Percy, you shrug.
“Say goodbye, the way you would say goodbye to your girlfriend.”
Percy doesn’t need to be told twice. Almost mechanically, he pulls you closer, tugging you to his chest and slightly bending down to press a kiss on your cheek. “I’ll see you later” he whispers before moving away, leaving you at your table full of overexcited Aphrodite kids.
You didn’t see Percy until later in the afternoon at the climbing wall. Yet the kiss he’d given you before breakfast was burning your cheek, as if his lips had been scalding hot iron. Part of you thought this was a fever dream, that you’d wake up in your bed with Percy’s heart still out of reach. But every camper coming to congratulate you and ask questions about your relationship with the son of Poseidon served as a harsh reminder of the predicament you were in.
It was a very hot morning when Luke decided to take the younger kids for a swim in the lake, asking you and Percy to tag along. The two of you were supervising a group of Hermes kids, Percy playing with them while you watched the scene from the dock, feet dangling in the water. Lost in your thoughts and lulled by the sunlight, you didn’t notice Percy swimming up to you until he pulled you in the water. You emerged with a laugh, hanging onto Percy’s shoulders, all the kids around you tossing water and giggling. He didn’t let you go and you’re suddenly hyper aware of the proximity you share and of his hands on your waist. The kids' incessant cheering doesn’t falter.
“Kiss your girlfriend Percy! That’s what good boyfriends do after pulling their girlfriends in the water!” the older kids teased.
“C’mon guys…” he let out a nervous laugh. But the kids didn't stop.
“Percy and Y/N, swimming in the water, K I S S I N G!”
“That’s not even the correct lyrics !” he argued, to no avail.
Percy then stared at you and you nodded, heart hammering in your chest. He leaned in and you laced your arms around his neck, hands coming to play with his wet curls. The kiss was short and sweet and sent you over the edge. When you pulled back, you could feel the blood pumping in your ears. With flushed cheeks, Percy turned towards the group, shooing them towards the shore. “Okay alright that’s enough! It’s almost lunchtime, let's go!”
As you got out of the water, shirt clinging to your body, Percy stood at the edge, hoodie in hand.
“Here. You can wear this instead.” he smiles and you gratefully accept the piece of clothing, reveling in the comfort of the material and in Percy’s scent.
It was interesting to see how everyone seemed to gobble your story. In the span of a few weeks, you and Percy became the talk of the camp. Everyone wondered how, when and why it happened. During late evenings spent idling on the shore, Percy often praised your storytelling skills and the way the two of you managed to play pretend so efficiently.
“Do you think it’s working ?” he asked one night, as the two of you were setting up the camp’s bonfire.
“Considering Annabeth seems to talk to you more than usual I’d say yes ? I can’t read her mind though.” you answer, placing the wood you picked up under your arm.
Percy nods, a small smile adorning his face. As he turns and leads the way towards the bonfire, you trail behind, lost in thought. Everything was going too well. So well that You had to remember almost every night that Percy wasn’t really your boyfriend. You knew that wishing he’d just change his mind would probably anger your mother but you didn’t care anymore. Although he was supposed to be yours in the eyes of everyone, you knew his heart belonged to someone else and you felt like an usurper. You considered putting an end to all of this, tell the truth to Annabeth and witness your biggest heartbreak come to life.
Percy’s voice brings you back to earth: “you coming?” Picking up your pace, the two of you are quick to get back to the group, everyone cheering and hollering at your arrival.
“Got lost in the woods ?” Luke teases.
As you sit next to Percy, he wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. You almost melt into his touch before remembering your inner turmoil. He looks at you with a smile and you smile back, trying your best to conceal your sadness. As you turn to face the fire, he presses a fleeting kiss to your temple and it feels so real you almost want to burst into tears.
You feel sick. His presence is suffocating and the voices in your head seem to get louder. You free yourself from his hold and stand up. His gaze is questioning and you shake your head.
“I’ll be back. I just— I need some air.” you whisper and he nods, watching your silhouette disappear in the shadows.
Sitting against the trunk of a tree, your knees hiked against your chest and your face hidden in your hands, you fight the tears pooling in your eyes. Regret and embarrassment are flooding your mind, a breathless apology to your mother escapes your lips.
All of a sudden, you hear a branch snap and you lift your head up. You brace yourself for the worst, fists clenching at the thought of Aphrodite herself coming to scold you. Yet the woods are too dark and there’s no sign of your godly parent. The rustle of leaves seems closer to you now and your heart beats faster.
A whisper of your name makes you turn your head. To your left stood Annabeth, taking off her cap and putting it back in the pocket of her jeans. You let out a breath of relief you didn’t realize you were holding as you saw her sitting down opposite you.
Annabeth is the first one to break the silence.
“I saw you at the bonfire. Wanted to know if you were okay since you didn’t want Percy to come with you.”
You smile at her words and nod, fingers toying with blades of grass.
“I am, thanks. I just needed to get away for a bit. I was probably overwhelmed or something. Had a long day.” you laugh.
The girl in front of you fiddles with her necklace, brows furrowed and obviously trying to tell you something.
“Yeah figures, Percy told you about our quest didn’t he ? I tried to tell him it was too dangerous, you know ? He was just so determined to come with me, Nico and Will he didn’t listen to me. I know you two are practically glued at the hip so when I asked him if he was sure, he told me you’d probably do the same thing.” she smiles softly before continuing. “He trusts you as much as you trust him, you know. It’s not something you see everyday.”
Annabeth looks over expectantly, only to find you staring at a crumpled daisy in the palm of your hand and you’re pulled out of your trance by her voice calling your name.
“Oh yeah, no we talked about it briefly this afternoon. He told me you guys had to leave soon. You don’t know when you’ll be back do you ?” you ask in a small voice, faking a yawn to hide the tears at the corner of your eyes.
Your friend shakes her head before pulling you into a hug.
“I’m gonna miss you, all of us will actually.” You tighten your embrace. “Me too, be safe out there.”
Annabeth pulls back with a small smile. “I’m gonna head back and let you join your lover boy.” You watch her as she puts her cap on, disappearing in the shadows.
You don’t wait long before joining the rest of the campers, guided by the firelight and the giggles of the younger kids. As you make your way back to the fire, you notice Percy making a place for you. You walk on, blatantly ignoring his signs.
No one else seems to notice what just happened. Puzzled, Percy stands up and follows your footsteps. You’re only a few meters away from your cabin when the boy grabs your wrist, turning you around to face him. The few lights around the cabins highlight the anger and sadness painted all over your face and you jerk your hand away.
“When were you going to tell me ?” you ask, crossing your arms.
His face falls.
“I– I was going to! As soon as Chiron confirmed it, I promise ! I just– I couldn't find the proper way to announce it. I swear I didn’t want to leave you in the dark.” Percy sputters
You nod, averting your attention to anywhere else but the boy in front of you. You couldn’t bear to let him see how upset you were. He couldn’t see how his upcoming departure ripped your heart apart in a way it wasn’t supposed to at all.
“Whatever. It’s not like you need me to make decisions right ? I’m just the stepping stone in your ‘how to get the girl tutorial’” you laugh bitterly
Percy shakes his head.
“No, absolutely not. You’re my best friend and I care about you. So much. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I— I didn't think wisely but you have to know how important this quest is. Annabeth wanted you to come with her but I volunteered instead. I couldn’t let you go out there and get hurt. I’d never forgive myself if something ever happened to you.”
His words burn and you wipe your tears angrily. When you finally meet his eyes, you notice how soft his gaze is, and how sorry he seems.
“Yeah right.” you point an accusatory finger at him. “Don’t you ever think that i’m going to help you with your little love games anymore. I’m done.”
You didn’t let him reply. opting to turn around, you walk to your cabin. You spare him one last glance when you step on the porch. He stands still, hands in his pockets.
“Look after Will and Nico, would you ? I trust Annabeth with my life but I wouldn’t bear to lose them because of you.” your words linger in the air and Percy winces, as if slapped by the meaning of your words.
He nods and you walk into your cabin, tears streaming down your face.
You don’t talk to Percy for the next few days, always finding excuses to avoid being in his vicinity and busying yourself with as many camp duties as you could take. You managed to escape him without anyone noticing the weird tension between the two of you. Yet Percy was desperately trying to talk to you, always searching your eyes during meals and attempting to follow you around to make amends. But you slipped through his fingers, never staying around him for more than a second.
When the day of the group’s departure finally came, you reluctantly stood next to Chiron. The whole camp came to the border to wish the group good luck, and you certainly weren’t going to let your friends go without sending them off with a proper goodbye. You ruffled Nico and Will’s hair, making them promise to send an Iris message whenever they needed to. Annabeth hugs you tightly and you wish her a safe journey. Percy follows, and he’s awkwardly shuffling on his feet, all the while the other campers wait for their favorite amusement. Although you’re upset and heartbroken, you still wish him the best. When you look up at him, you can still see the same apologetic gaze he gave you almost a week ago.
You reach up reluctantly, lacing your arms around his neck. Under the scrutinizing gaze of your peers, you manage to press a feathery kiss on the corner of his mouth. While everyone cheers and celebrates the rest of the group as well, Percy’s hands find yours.
“I’ll stay in touch, promise.” he squeezes your hand and you just nod, pursing your lips. There’s a beat of silence, his hand still holding yours. You’re the first one to pull back, crossing your arms and standing back. Percy takes this as his cue to leave. With one last glance at you, he adjusts the straps of his backpack and turns away, following the rest of the group while you watch them disappear through the fields.
Ever since Annabeth and her partners left, your days at camp seemed to go by slower. Yet the occasional message of Apollo’s son, Will, always eager to update you on everyone and the quest made you look forward to what the day could bring. Ever since his arrival at camp Half-Blood, Will Solace has been like your little brother, always in your shadow. Every time his freckled face appeared through the mist, it was as if a weight was lifted off of your shoulders. Some days, he managed to drag Nico into view to say hi and during others, he almost had to tell Annabeth off for “hogging all his time with Y/N”. On the other hand, you managed to catch glimpses of Percy, whether he was in the background or coming in to greet you, asking how life at camp was. Conversations with him were short and you hoped the others didn’t notice the tension between the two of you that persisted even through a simple Iris message.
As the days went on, Will’s messages were rare, which was worrying. He’d usually call you once a week but your most recent conversation dated back two weeks already. One late afternoon, as you were supervising the archery class along with another camper from Apollo’s cabin, the frantic sound of hooves hitting the gravel path broke the kids’ focus. In a matter of seconds, Grover is right in front of you, panting.
“Chiron wants to see you… now.”
Feeling your stomach tighten in anguish, you rush to your beloved activities director, only to find him animatedly talking to someone via Iris message.
To Will Solace.
Although he’s on the other side of the country, he notices you first and agitatedly calls out your name, prompting Chiron to turn around.
“I’ll let the two of you be. There’s something important you both need to discuss.” Chiron solemnly announces before retiring, prompting you to rush to the boy.
“Will ! Thank gods ! Are you okay ? What’s going on ? Is everything alright ?”
Will lets you ask all the questions you could think of and your heart clenches at the sight of his bruised face and his torn clothes.
“I’m okay.. Nico and I are okay.” he breathes and you answer with anguish. “What’s happening ? Why– Where’s Annabeth ? Where’s Percy ?”
At the mention of the older two, Will’s face contorts in an expression you can’t discern and your face falls.
“Annabeth tripped and fell. Percy rushed to help her but he couldn’t pull her up nor himself.” The boy swallows. “So he told Nico and I to join the rest of our crew, you know, the ones from the Argo II, the ones I told you about ?” You nod and he resumes his story. “I— I thought he wanted them to help him pull him and Annabeth up but he… He let go and they both fell. They fell into Tartarus.”
The room around you was spinning. You sat in the nearest chair and brought a shaky hand to your lips. Will was still talking but the ringing in your ears was too overwhelming for you to hear anything.
After regaining composure as best as you could, Will explained how the rest of their quest was supposed to go. You were unable to utter a single word, the shocking news weighing heavy on your heart. He ended the call with a promise to come back to camp safely. As soon as you were alone in the room, you keeled on yourself, choking out tears.
Will’s words still echoed in your mind more than a week after that fateful call, especially when word got out that Annabeth and Percy, Y/N’s Percy, fell into Tartarus. Your days were tiresome and your nights full of nightmares. More often than not, you found yourself awoken by one of your siblings in the middle of the night, their hands on your shoulders prompting you to calm down. Pitiful stares from other campers weren’t spared either, and you could feel everyone’s eyes on your back almost everyday, already grieving the loss of two people that meant the world to you.
But you tried to keep face. Every piece of meal you scraped into the campfire was a silent prayer to your mother to keep your friends safe, every night spent on your cabin’s porch was another way of pleading the stars to bring everyone back to camp quickly and safely. To clear your mind as best as you could, you began to spend most evenings on the shore where you and Percy used to hang out all the time, before everything went down. Reminiscing on past conversations, the knot in your stomach only tightened when you remembered your last exchange, regret swallowing you whole at the idea of losing Percy and never mending things with him.
Sitting on the shore and skipping stones slowly became part of your daily routine. You were there at dawn and at dusk, feet at the edge of the water. This was the exact place you found out Percy and Annabeth came back. Meg McCaffrey, daughter of Demeter came bounding towards you, yelling your name.
“They’re back !!! They’re all back !!!”
Scrambling to your feet, you follow the girl as best as you could, too stunned to speak. And indeed, as soon as you joined the group of campers in the meadow, you saw them. Your eyes caught Will’s first, holding Nico’s hand tightly. You see them next, Percy and Annabeth. They’re in terrible shape, clothes torn and faces scraped. Yet here they are, stumbling towards Thalia’s tree, holding each other up. That’s the first thing you notice: Percy’s tight grip on Annabeth’s shoulder. You let out a breath, rushing towards the group. Will launches himself into your arms and you fall to your knees, holding him tightly.
“You’re okay. You’re home.” you whisper, a hand soothingly rubbing his back. When he pulls back, you open your arms to Nico, who gladly accepts your embrace. Once the three of you are up on your feet again, Annabeth pulls you towards her and Percy, although not without wincing. You let out a teary laugh at her demeanor before brushing dirt off her cheek.
“Let’s get you patched up.” you grin as you take a hold of her elbow. You turn towards Percy, who smiles tiredly before beckoning him to follow. “You’re going too Perce.”
The next few days Annabeth and Percy stay in the infirmary, you pass by often to help with bandages or simply to strike up a conversation. The bright smile with which Percy greets you everytime makes your heart clench and you avoid his eyes as best as you can.
The duo has undoubtedly become the talk of the entire camp again, and you can’t help but remember the bitterness crawling up your throat again. They seemed closer, with Percy still hanging around Annabeth as often as he could. Yet this time, you sensed a shift in their dynamics, blaming it on your mother’s powers. Ever since the pair came back from Tartarus, you started to fall into the background again. Percy technically hasn’t abandoned you but you did feel left out, again. Evenings with your dear friend on the shore were traded for long conversations in Athena’s cabin and the feeling of Percy’s constant arm around you now seemed like a fever dream.
With a heavy heart, you let life take its course again. Having pulled away from Percy, people started to speculate your potential breakup. You didn’t deny the rumors, wanting things to go back to what you were used to, wanting to hopelessly pine in silence without pretending anymore. But what you experienced in the past few weeks felt too real and every single time your path crossed Percy’s, you felt like drowning in unsaid feelings.
The day Silena found you sobbing on the steps of the cabin was your breaking point. She rushed to your side, engulfing you in a hug.
“Hey, hey! What’s going on ?” she asked but you shook your head, unable to find the right words and ashamed of what your answer might be. But she pressed on until you cracked.
“Percy and I, we weren’t actually dating. He wanted to make Annabeth jealous so he asked me to pretend to be his girlfriend and I said yes. And I feel so, so stupid because I liked him, really liked him and I thought that was the closest I’ll ever get to actually be with him but then he left and I guess his plan finally worked.” you let out a bitter laugh before resuming. “And I just can’t look him in the eyes anymore, it hurts too much. I probably messed up our friendship because I fell in love with him years ago when he only had eyes for Annabeth. And I can’t be mad at him! She’s perfect! Sometimes I just wish it was me…”
Letting out a shaky breath, you avoided your sister’s eyes until she held your shoulders, prompting you to face her. There was no trace of pity in her gaze, only the typical fondness she addressed to her siblings. With a small smile, she was about to comfort you until the hurried sound of footsteps caused the both of you to turn towards the source of the sound.
Percy stood in front of the porch, looking as surprised as you. If looks could kill, Silena would’ve already sent him six feet in the ground. On the other hand, you felt sick to your stomach. Judging by the expression on his face, your declaration didn’t fall into deaf ears. He slowly reached the first step but you stood up abruptly.
“Don’t.” was all you could muster before running off.
You blamed it on muscle memory when you found yourself on the edge of the shore again. But Percy wasn’t stupid. He figured out it became your favorite spot almost a month after he took you there for the first time. With your back facing him, he softly called your name, sighing when you refused to turn around.
“Go away Percy.”
“I can’t. I won’t.”
“What do you want then?” you finally snapped, facing him. “Do you want to laugh in my face ? Tell me I’m an absolute idiot for thinking I could ever have a chance with you ?”
“No! Absolutely not!” There's a second of silence before he starts again. “I, I heard everything and” you’re about to cut him off when he shakes his head. “No. Let me tell you what I need to tell you. I can’t let you hurt like that knowing I caused all this mess.”
Seeing him in such a nervous state somewhat calmed your own nerves. You sat on a big rock, motioning him to sit beside you. None of you talked for a little while, instead choosing to focus on the lapping of the waves. Percy decided to break the silence.
“I have– had feelings for Annabeth. For the longest time. And looking back on it, I was a jerk for asking you to fake date me. I was selfish, I didn’t even think about how you felt in the moment because I was too obsessed with the idea of Annabeth noticing me.” He swallowed. “I was blinded by my feelings until the quest. When Annabeth told me she wanted you to come with her, I told you I couldn’t allow you to get hurt. I meant it. And when we were in Tartarus, gods, I couldn’t help but imagine you instead of me. The place tricked us, made us see things coming out of our worst nightmares. I— I heard you most of the time. It recreated your voice and made me believe you were in so much pain and I couldn’t do anything about it. I still have dreams about it: you’re the one who’s falling into Tartarus because I can’t seem to reach your hand.”
When you turn your head to look in his direction, you find him already looking at you.
“What do you mean by that?” you whisper, eyes scanning his face.
He grabs your hand and you can’t help but twitch at the contact.
“I can’t lose you, that’s what it means. I took our friendship for granted and I’ll always beat myself up for that. Annabeth realized that before I did. When we came back, she told me to always be upfront about my feelings to people you hold dear. You never know when you might see them for the last time. So that’s what I’m doing right now.”
“Are you seriously friendzoning me right now ?” you scoff at his choice of words.
“No, no!” he closes his eyes. “Gods what I want to tell you is that I can’t stand when you’re not by my side. And I’m sorry for not noticing it earlier. I care about you, more than you know. And if you’d let me, I want to make things right with you, with us.”
Your heart softens at his declaration. You heave a sigh but you can’t hide the small smile growing on your face.
“We can try.” you shrug and you feel his grip tighten around your hand.
His smile almost rivals with the first stars dotting the sky. “We can try.”
#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson and the olympians x reader#pjo x reader#percy jackson imagine#pjo imagine#pjo fluff#pjo angst#percy jackson fluff#percy jackson fic#percy jackson and the olympians#percy jackson angst
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Prev / Next / Beginning
TW: Self Harm Mentioned/Implied
AN: next update our ladies will have a proper reunion but first tree farm tree farm! (Even though only the poor kids- and Bob- are the only ones super excited about it)
Transcript under the cut
Nancy Narrates: [All those years I’ve spent yearning, wanting, my whole self calling for her—and now she’s here]
Nancy Narrates: [This isn’t a dream. She’s here. I can feel the warmth in her cheek]
Nancy: I- I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to- I don’t know why I did that. I shouldn’t have-
Vanessa: [laughs] It’s ok, Nancy! It’s good to see you too.
Vanessa: Wow, look at you. You’re all grown up, aren’t you?
Nancy: I- I-
Vanessa: Still filled to the brim with tears too.
Nancy: [softly] Sorry. I thought.. I thought I’d never see you again.
Vanessa: 16 years is a long time. I was worried you would have forgotten all about me.
Nancy: I could never forget you.
Vanessa: I’ve come all this way to see you.
Nancy: Have you really?
Vanessa: I know it’s been years, but I was hoping we could reconnect. I’m staying at the Fyres Hotel. Maybe we could have dinner there tonight. Catch up?
Nancy Narrates: [I had to physically restrain myself from saying yes. I realized, after all these years, I still would have followed her anywhere...but it can’t be this way. Not anymore..]
Nancy: [exhales] I can’t. I’m sorry. I had plans.
Vanessa: Ah! Well. I did pop in last minute. Maybe some other-
Nancy: You could come with me! I mean, If you like? We’re supposed to get a Christmas tree for the house; trying to set new traditions and what not.
Nancy: It’s silly but it’s important to them- my sons. I have two boys, by the way. I have to do this for them but- you’re here and I don’t know if I can see you leave again. God, am I rambling too much?
Vanessa: You want me to go tree shopping with you and your children?
Nancy: [blushes] Will you?
Vanessa: Lead the way.
-
Malcolm: What’s taking that lady so long!
Jonathan: Should we try and call mom again?
Geoffrey: [hums noncommittally]
Malcolm: He’s not even listening!
Bob: Hellooo? Earth to Geoffrey?
Bob: Iggy say, ‘what’s eatin’ ya, Uncle G?’
Iggy: [coos]
Geoffrey: Heh, sorry! Sorry. I guess I got alot on my mind right now.
Eliza: Is everything ok?
Geoffrey: Oh, yeah! Yeah, yeah- well...I guess I’m thinking about Nance?
Eliza: What’s wrong with Nancy?
Geoffrey: I’ve been thinking about what happened on our anniversary trip.
Bob: Yeah? What was it?
Malcolm: Mommy’s here!! Mommy’s here!!
Malcolm: Er, who’s that with my mommy?
Bob: Well, I’ll be damned! Talk about a throwback!
Eliza: [whistles] Oh, wow! Who is that? Is she a model?: Well, I’ll be damned! Talk about a throwback!
Geoffrey: Vanessa Villareal?
Nancy: These are my sons, Jonathan and Malcolm.
Vanessa: Oh! Oh, Nancy, they are beautiful.
Malcolm: Who are you, lady!
Nancy: Don’t be rude, darling. Vanessa is- was- she’s my..
Vanessa: I’m your mother’s best friend.
Jonathan: I’m Jonathan, but call me Johnny. This loud mouth is Malcolm.
Vanessa: Johnny it is. You must get those cool, blue eyes from your mom’s brother.
Jonathan: You knew my Uncle Nathan?
Vanessa: No, but I saw a picture once, a long time ago.
Vanessa: [turns to Malcolm] And you look just like your mother.
Malcolm: Are you a movie star too?
Vanessa: [chuckles] No, I’m not a movie star.
Malcolm: Then who are you lady?
Vanessa: I’m your Auntie V. You can call me that, if you like.
Malcolm: Aunt V, are you gonna pick out a tree with us?
Vanessa: You bet. You should know, I have a keen eye.
Nancy: Sorry I’m late..
Geoffrey: Better late than never. I see you had an eventful day.
Malcolm: No more talking! Let’s go already!
Jonathan: I want to find our tree with mom!
Malcolm: Well I’m taking daddy!
Bob: Alright! Long time no see, VV! Man, it’s been a while, huh?
Vanessa: Just V is fine. Billy, right?
Bob: [sighs] It’s Bobby. This is my wife, Eliza and this cool guy is Iggy.
Vanessa: [sheepishly] Right. Nice to meet you. Wasn’t there another one of you?
Bob: [chuckles] Cassie. We still keep in touch. She’s a travel blogger now. And I’m sure you remember ol’ Geoffrey here.
Geoffrey: Good seeing you, Vanessa.
Vanessa: Likewise.
Bob: Heck yeah! Let the festivities begin!
-
Jonathan: This one! This is the perfect tree, right, Mom?
Nancy: Mhm. Yes, that’s nice- I’ll be right back.
Jonathan: Oh..
Bob: Alright, what’s going on? You can tell me, it’s just us guys now, and Iggy here is great at keeping secrets.
Geoffrey: Nance was so sad on our trip, sadder than usual. I haven’t seen her so low since- well, since Vanessa left. And she kept apologizing to me.
Bob: You’ve mentioned before she gets in a mood sometimes, right?
Geoffrey: Well, yeah... that’s not all. I saw these bruises on the inside of her thigh.
Bob: [eyes widen] You think she’s hurting herself?
Geoffrey: Is that it, you think? At first I thought they were- you know, hickies?
Bob: Whoa. Hickies? On Nancy?
Geoffrey: [snorts] That’s crazy, right?
Bob: You should talk to her. If she is harming herself, you should get her help, bud.
Geoffrey: And if it’s not that...
Bob: Then, that’s another kind of conversation. But this is Nancy we’re talking about. You two have been bit by the love bug since high school. I can’t imagine her having an affair with some other guy.
-
Nancy: Hi.
Vanessa: Hi.
Nancy: Sorry if I’m being...odd. I guess, I’m still getting used to seeing you.
Vanessa: I don’t think you’re being odd. I think you’re being you.
Nancy: Is that a bad thing?
Vanessa: [giggles] No, not at all. You haven’t changed and it’s refreshing.
Nancy: Ah. Well. You haven’t either. I mean..you still feel like my Vanessa.
Nancy Narrates: [All those questions I craved answers for came rushing back to me the more I looked at her. Was my loving her just a girlish memory of our past? Did she ever hear my voicemail? Was it worth mentioning after almost 2 decades apart? After I’ve already married and had children? After I’ve sworn to dedicate my all to them-]
Vanessa: So, about that dinner. Are you free tonight?
#the art of being seen#the landgraabs#tw self harm mentioned#tw self harm#mentioned only#sims 4 simblr#ts4 simblr#sims 4 stories#sims 4#sims
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Taking a Chance
I want more TaliaxDanny stuff so how about this AU. Its mostly HEAVILY hinted though.
[Side note: Danny is in his 20s, maybe mid 20s btw, also enjoy my actual writing style, haven't done this in a while besides some small snippets I write]
Talia discovers the future plans Ra's has for her baby, her heir, her child. She is hurt and enraged because "How dare he! How dare he raise my son to be a sacrificial lamb just to extend his own life!" And the fact he had no plans to truly step down from being the Demon Head. (Basically the timeline where Ra's planned to overtake Damain's body)
-x-x-
Talia stared, her green eyes almost glowing toward the sleeping form of her son on her bed. Her eyes roamed his tiny face, the way he lightly dozed the day away unknowingly of the danger that had set in stone for him. Yes, being not just her son but the son of the Bat and the grandson of the Demon Head he was always going to be in danger but never had she really thought the danger would come from the very person who just declared him his heir. At least not in the way its been presented.
Talia had just discovered the fate her father, Ra's al Ghul, the same man that had held Damian not even a day ago and spoke of the future he could see Damian bring to the League once he was of age and would lead it, had actually planned for her son.
He planned on using her son, raising him to be the perfect heir.... to... to...
Use him as a vessel in the end.
He planned to leave his old decaying body, a body that was beginning to no longer respond to the Lazarus Pits as of late, and basically jump ship to a younger and better body...
The body of her son. The son she created and craved to have and raise. The son she made with her beloved's blood running in his veins.
Despite how enraged she is' Talia knows she can't confront her father. He would kill her... no he would torture her by hurting her baby to the point death would be a mercy if she tried. She also knows she can't go running to Bruce, she had burned the bridge to him ages ago when she refused to leave her father and his teachings and knows he would rip Damian away from her should she tell him what she did. He would, under the guise of protecting their child gain sole custody from Talia, set up next to nothing visitation rights for her to follow. He would say it would be to protect Damian from Ra's but Talia knows Bruce, knows he would use it as a half-excuse just to keep her away... but Talia wants to be in her child's life. Wants to raise him. Wants to be his mother, despite knowing next to nothing on how to be an actual normal mother, she wanted to try. She needed to try.
Running away was also out of the question, especially since Damian had been declared her father 'heir'. He would hunt them down and there was no where in this world she could hide that her father could not find them...
And-
Talia barely gives any warning when she flings the knife behind her. She waited for only a second, either to hear the ting of metal being blocked or the sound of it burying itself onto the wooden door she knew was in its pathway.
Instead she heard neither of those things and instead heard the ticking of a grandfather clock and a deep chuckle.
"As expected from the daughter of the Demon. Sharp and deadly with no hesitation in sight."
"Who are you." It was not a question but a demand. She slowly turned her head and was meet with an odd sight that even the daughter of the Demon has never seen before.
"At most.. an ally to have. At worst, merely a passing stranger with an offer."
The ticking never stopped.
Everything else outside the room though did.
-x-x-
Danny stared, his currently green eyes burning even more brightly than they normally do. Many emotions passed through them, anger, frustration, pain, sadness, regret, heartbreak, and hopelessness to name a few.
He stared at the tiny sleeping face within the healing pod in front of him and closed his eyes as memories of spending time with the one sleeping filled his mind.
"My King." A voice began, Danny's sharp pointed ears twitch for a moment and he turned his head slightly but it was all the speaker needed to know that they had his attention even if he didn't give them his full attention.
"I bring the updated reports from Chief Frostbite you requested." The young yeti ghost said, this had Danny finally turning around and looking upwards and towards the young yeti, who was smaller than Frostbite but none the less bigger than Danny. Danny held his hand out and took the stack of papers in their hands.
Once the papers were in his hands he gave a curt wave of his fingers as if to say 'go on' without actually saying the words and turned his attention to the words on the papers. The young yeti, Icewinds took the signal and began.
"Princess Danielle's core has remained the same since the last check up. No major sign of deteriorating or destabilizing... However that also means there have been no signs of improvement or healing as well..." Icewinds stopped for a moment, allowing their King to register the words being spoken "We will continue to monitor her as best as we can but... My King..."
Icewinds took a deep breath and delivered the news everyone already knew "Without a female donor to complete her Ecto-DNA, should the Princess suffers from another Fading even a minor one, I fear it might be too much for her core and with her current body form it will not be able to withstand the stress... I'm truly sorry My King."
The room fell silent, the only real sounds being the monitors in the room and sound of rustling papers in Danny's hands, who was staring blankly at the words written on them but not really taking them in.
After a moment, Icewinds shifting uncomfortably for a second, Danny spoke his voice raw but strong and firm "I understand. Please inform Frostbite I am... grateful for his, yours, and everyone's continued support and everything everyone's has done to help her... If you do not mind Icewinds, I would... Like to be alone for a while and think... For a moment."
"O-Of course My King." And with that Icewinds left the room, Danny barely taking not of the door closing and his enhanced hearing picking up the hushed soft words being spoken to the Knights that stood outside the room of Danny's request of being left alone for a while.
Once the talking outside the room faded, Danny tilted his body and head back on the chair he had been sitting in for the last few days and allowed the papers he had his hands to fall out and onto the floor. Danny took in a shaky breath and closed his burning eyes as he tried to keep his core emotions in control, knowing if he lost control the Realms would echo him and would panic or worry his people.
And he couldn't deal with that. Not now.
"Clockwork, whatever timeline you are trying to set in motion, I hope it pans out soon." Danny rasped out as he tried his best to keep himself from falling apart. Losing Danielle, losing the girl that was his clone, his mirror, but also was like a sister... daughter sometimes would break him, harshly and deeply.
He knew his advisor and resident Timekeeper had something in the works, the way the aging spirit had looked at him before he left was telling when the news of Danielle's suffering from another Fading attack and Frostbite having to perform a Core Transform nearly last second, which in turn turned her into a baby from how close she was to fully Fading, had been delivered to Danny and the others.
But despite knowing Clockwork had a plan, Danny knew that smile he had before he had left. It had been Clockwork's 'Have hope, but even I am unsure.' smile, a rare one the Timekeeper would wear when even he didn't know which way the pendulum of chance would swing first.
So he did the only thing he could do for now, and that was to remain in the room with Danielle, keep her stabilized as best as he could with his own ectoplasim flowing, and wait to see if whatever Clockwork had planned would work out.
Waiting, even with all he's done in his life from becoming a Halfa, to defending his home and haunt, from fighting off insane Fruitloops to dismantling government bigots until there was nothing left of them, all the way to fighting a tyrannicidal Ghost King to the point Danny had won the crown by Trail by Combat thus taking up the mantle of Ghost King of the Infinite Realms since his seventeenth birthday and bringing the Infinite Realms into a new age of healing the broken crumbling lands and ruling over all justly but firmly, waiting was all he could do for Danielle.
And the waiting. The stress. Was agonizing.
Because what they needed was...
Was a miracle if Danny was to be honest. They needed a female, a donor in all sense of the words, to complete Danielle's incomplete Ecto-DNA, because of course that damned Fruitloop tried skipping steps in creating a clone of Danny and it was no wonder he had failed so many times with only Danielle the most stable of them all and given the fact she still wasn't was damning, but they couldn't just have any female donate their DNA to her.
No the DNA needed the donor to at least be limenal, thus turning the DNA into Ecto-DNA because Danielle was created to be a halfa... The only problem was that the person in question needed to be Jazz level of limenal Ecto-DNA as well.
Meaning that despite both Sam and Val offering their Ecto-DNA from the years of being exposed to the Realms and Ectoplasim theirs wasn't enough to work with Danielle's. Jazz's Ecto-DNA was off the table seeing as she was his sister and mixing it with Danielle's would just lead to problems.
No they needed someone who was born near or in ectoplasm, breathed it, ate or at least filtered it, grew with it for years like Jazz and Danny did, basically the person in question just needed one odd day of dying and returning to life at the same time to becoming a halfa levels of limenal. Only those high levels could complete and combined with Danielle's.
Which given the fact only Jazz had those levels, finding someone near those levels was like looking for needle in space, because forget the haystack.
"....You've returned." Was the only words Danny said when his ears caught the sound of a ticking clock suddenly in the room, his anxiety raising as both dread and a tiny slimmer of hope both slowly climb up in his emotions, knowing whatever answer Clockwork would give him would outweigh the other.
"On time, as always My King." His cryptic Timekeeper responded "I bring... a chance."
Those words were enough to snap Danny out of his chair, he quickly looked towards where Clockwork's voice had been coming from and floated. His eyes burning with determination for a moment before he caught sight of movement behind Clockwork.
Behind the ever changing being stood a breathtaking woman. Tall and proud from the way she held herself, she looked a few years older than him but Danny could sense she was far older her soul not really matching her body. She was lovely to look at no doubt but deadly, very deadly and that was something else Danny could sense after all he was the Ghost King.
And she wasn't alone for in her arms was a baby, roughly the same age that Danielle had been de-aged to as well.
Danny blinked at them when he noticed something.
She...
She was limenal.
Very limenal. Even more limenal than Jazz.
In fact both of them were.
"I would like you to meet Lady Talia al Ghul and her son Damian, My King." Clockwork said as he gave a tiny bow towards the woman who stepped forward, a frown on her face she took in Danny's features and her eyes darting towards Danielle's healing pod for a moment, Danny could see she was tensed and a little weary from no doubt everything so far.
".... Welcome Lady Talia to the Infinite Realms. I am King Phantom." Danny greeted, his many years of training with other royalties coming forward as second nature now, he wasn't some normal teen from the middle of the Mid-West after all. "Has Clockwork told you the reasoning as to why you have been... chosen?"
He honestly would put it past Clockwork to be cryptic about the reasoning, but he hoped he hadn't because Danny really didn't want to explain the importance of it all and why they needed to hurry. And judging by the roll of his eyes Clockwork knew what Danny had been meaning as well.
"Yes King Phantom" Talia spoke, her voice rich and silky that sent a tiny shiver up Danny's spine from the sound "You need my DNA to help heal your clone. Should it be successful however it will change her from being merely a clone to instead into becoming yours and mine daughter."
"Correct." Was Danny's response, short and to the point. He needed her answer now if they wanted to save even a fragment of Danielle's core.
The room fell silent again, each them of taking a moment to think.
But eventually Talia spoke. Her voice steady and strong.
"I will offer my aid to you and yours... But only if you swear to both me and my son that we will be given sanctuary from my father and any who dares harm us for the blood that runs in our veins."
Danny only had one answer to that as his eyes caught hers.
Because despite being the Ghost King Phantom nowadays. He had once been Danny Phantom whose core started as a protector spirit and could sense the honestly of needing safety in her words.
"Yes."
-x-x-
Clockwork watched and smiled at the two adults in the room as they continued to stare at each other.
He knew he had been cutting it close, waiting for Talia to be at the ends of ropes and needing a chance to finally leave her deadly and abusive father without the toxic strings attached her ex would tie around her under the guise of safety for their son.
Turning his attention away from the two as they began to speak terms, Clockwork cast his gaze towards an window in the room and stared out of it, smile still on his face as glimpses of the rare future he saw slowly rose up more frequently.
Danny and Talia slowly and surely working together to raise not just Danielle, or rather Ellie as they renamed her since she was no longer a clone of Danny, but also Damian together. Passing them off as twins to those outside the Realms or Amity Park.
Talia learning to release the toxic love she had towards Bruce Wayne, and understand if someone truly loved you for you, they would demand sudden change from the only way of life one knows. That since she was no longer the thumb of her father she could finally be free to be herself.
Danny learning that despite being crowned so early in his life, that the weight of the crown didn't need to be carried alone. Sure he had his friends and family but Danny needed someone, someone who understood the weight of the feeling of needing to wear it head held high. And who better to help teach that than the woman who had to carry the name Daughter of the Demon Head herself.
The two growing closer and closer. Until fondness changed and shifted into more. As they raised the two infants with laughter and joy and love.
Ellie getting a kiss from Talia on the forehead when she had a nightmare and seeked her mother out for comfort. Toddler Damian riding Cujo around the castle as he copied Fright Knight after watching him ride off, Danny floating right by him making sure he didn't fall off. Ellie learning how to fight not just from her mother but from her idol Pandora. Damian learning to identify the stars and their names from the man he saw, and later wished was, his father. Ellie and Damian building pillow forts in the library and reading all manners of stories to each other. Danny and Talia holding their tiny hands as they took them to their first day of school within Amity Park their joyful laughter bringing soft smiles on their parents faces.
Danny holding a crying Talia as she explained the things she had been taught and forced to learn by the orders of her father in the dead of night. Doing his best to calm her down as he had been taught by Jazz ages ago.
Talia standing tall and firm when the Observants tried to undermined a order, no a law Danny had set in motion that had upset the eyeballs badly. How she gathered evidence of their attempts to go against it and how they were nothing but traitors towards their King and couldn't weasel themselves out of it this time.
Clockwork smiled warmly when he caught sight of one more glimpse of this future timeline.
Talia dressed beautifully, a crown made of stars and black jewels on her head. Her son dancing with her as firm as he could but his little tongue peeking out of his mouth as he concentrated on his steps and was dressed like a tiny prince complete with a tiny crown of stars on his head as well, Talia's face held a tiny smile of love watching him try his hardest to dance correctly with her. Joyful squeals of laughter rang out as King Phantom twirled with Ellie, who was dressed like a true princess, in his arms.
Around them in the ballroom the citizens of Realms laughed, joyfully danced, sang, ate, or merely watched. For the first time in many, many years the Realms felt... Complete. Whole. Happy.
A true wonderful afterlife that all could enjoy.
Yes.
He knew waiting the last second was a long shot, for a chance that almost wasn't, but the future he saw was well worth it.
A good future. A balanced one. A happy afterlife one.
Now, all he had to do was wait for the seeds of this future to bloom.
#danny phantom#danny fenton#dp x dc#blue rambles#crossover#writing ideas#random idea#danny phantom dc#dpxdc#dcxdp#royal errors#taliaxdanny#Talia runs off with baby Damian#gets an offer from CW#you give your DNA to my King for his clone turned daughter#and you get freedom and safety from your insane father#and no strings attached like your ex#Danny and Talia kinda co-parent#mostly at first its Talia trying to be a mother to her 'daughter'#Danny didn't wanna overstep boundaries with Damian but does adore the grumpy baby#eventually their kinda co-parenting does turn into real co-parenting#Danny and Talia do grow close#and eventually give dating a shot#turns out very very well#Future Damian wishes Danny actually was his bio-dad when he learns his bio-dad is Batman#like cool and all but come on his step-dad is freaking King of the Infinite Realms#Bruce learns about Damian when his class takes a trip to Gotham#And Ellie gets kidnapped oh boy
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